A thin veil of mist lay over the country all day long. But when the sun set, the western sky glowed with purple flames, and the cold glaciers and snowfields were thrown up by a background of fire.
| 200. Lundup’s Squadron. To the Left a Part of Targo-gangri. Camp 150. |
At last, on April 29, we take to the road and ride up the affluent Chuma, flowing down from the right and called in its upper course Nagma-tsangpo. We climb higher and higher up regularly curved lake terraces; the view widens out the nearer we approach the summit, where the Ladakis are waiting for us with a fire. The southern basin of the Dangra-yum-tso was clearly visible as a bluish sabre-blade, and the valley of the Targo-tsangpo widens out like a trumpet to the broad plain beside the shore. It was the easier to trace the course of the river to the neighbourhood of the lake because it was marked all along by white glistening ice flakes and dark spots where bushes grow. At the end of July the river is said to rise so high that it cannot be crossed. So when letters have to be delivered to nomads on the eastern foot of the mountain they are weighted with a stone and thrown across a narrow part of the stream.
The water of the lake is said to be as salt as that of the Ngangtse-tso, and is not fit for drinking; but nevertheless pilgrims drink it, because it is holy. At this time the winter ice was breaking up, and long sheets of ice lay only at the shore. In contrast to most other lakes of Tibet, the Dangra-yum-tso runs north and south, and it narrows in the middle, just as Nain Sing has drawn it on his map; but he has made the lake a little too large, and has especially exaggerated the dimensions of the southern basin. A horseman can travel round the lake in five ordinary or seven short days’ journey; the pilgrim road closely follows the lake shore. The pilgrims always make the circuit of the lake in the direction of the hands of a watch, if they are orthodox; but if they belong to the Pembo sect, like the monks of the Sershik-gompa, they begin their march in the opposite direction. Most of them come in late summer or autumn. I was told that the pilgrimage round the lake, which of course must be made on foot, was in honour of Padma Sambhava, the saint who came to Tibet in the year 747, became the founder of Lamaism, and enjoys almost as great a reputation as Buddha himself. He is called in Tibet Lopön Rinpoche, and his image is generally found in the temples.
Sershik-gompa, of which we had frequently heard, and which Nain Sing names Sasik Gombas on his map, stands on an even slope at the eastern foot of the mountain. The monastery is under the Devashung, and has twenty Pembo brethren and an abbot named Tibha. Some of the monks are said to be well off, but on the whole the convent is not rich; it is supported by nomads in Naktsang, Largep, and Sershik. The monastery is constructed chiefly of stone, but it also contains timber transported hither from the Shang valley. There is a dukang and a number of small images of gods. The Targo-gangri massive can also be travelled round, and only one pass has to be crossed, namely the Barong-la (or Parung), which lies between Targo-gangri and the mighty range on the west of the Shuru-tso.
The short, lofty, meridional range which is called Targo-gangri, and is rather to be considered an isolated massive, ends in the north not far from the lake, the flanks of the last peak descending gently to its flat plain. Nain Sing calls the massive Targot-la Snowy Peaks, and the district to the south of the mountain Tárgot Lhágeb (Largep). The river is marked Targot Sangpo on his map. His Siru Cho to the east of the lake is known to no one here, and his Mun Cho Lakes marked to the south of it actually lie to the west of the lake. His representation of the mountains to the south of the lake is confused and fanciful. Some nomads named the holy mountain Chang-targo-ri.
On the way back I took levels, assisted by Robert, and found that the highest recognizable terrace lay 292 feet above the level of the river. The Targo-tsangpo is here certainly not more than 6½ feet higher than the surface of the lake. As the Dangra-yum-tso is surrounded, particularly on the south, by rather low, flat land, the lake must formerly have been of very large extent. At that time the Targo-gangri skirted the western shore as a peninsula.
In the night there was a noise like an avalanche falling; it became feebler and died away. The horses and yaks of the Tibetans, frightened by something or other, had stormed the detritus slope of the terrace. Half an hour later I heard whistling and shouting; the men were coming back with the runaways.
| 201. Lundup (on horseback to the left) and his Retinue prevent me from proceeding to the Dangra-yum-tso. Targo-gangri and the river Targo-tsangpo in the background. |
Before we took leave of our troublesome friends they were photographed on horseback (Illust. 201). They all wore roomy, dark cerise-coloured mantles, and, unlike the bare-headed Largep men, a bandage round the head, in many cases drawn through silver rings like bangles. One had a tall white hat like a truncated cone, with a flat brim, a head-covering I remembered seeing in Nakchu. Their guns, with the military pennants on the forks, they had slung over their shoulders, and their sabres stuck out horizontally from their girdles in silver-bound scabbards decorated with three pieces of imitation coral. Over the left shoulder some carried a whole bandolier of gao cases with glass fronts, through which were visible the little innocent gods which bring their wearers good fortune on their journey. Their fat little horses stamped and snorted, longing for their old well-known pastures on the shores of the Kyaring-tso. They also were decked with needlessly heavy but dainty ornaments. The white horses with red riders on their backs made a particularly striking picture. It was a varied scene in the blazing sunshine, with the snowy summits of Targo-gangri as a background and Nain Sing’s lake to the north. I begged them to greet Hlaje Tsering heartily from me, and tell him that I hoped to see him again.