To give a quotation from the other side, I will here reproduce an expression of opinion from Lord Curzon, formerly Viceroy of India, whose knowledge of Asia is unsurpassed. In the Geographical Journal, April 1909, he says:
Alongside of this great discovery (Bongba and Chokchu) I would place the tracing for hundreds of miles and the assurance of a definite orographical existence to the mighty mountain palisade or series of palisades to which he has, in my opinion very appropriately, given the title of the Trans-Himalaya. This range has been surmised to exist in its entire length for many years; it has been crossed at its extremities by Littledale and by native surveyors. But it was reserved for Dr. Hedin to trace it on the spot and to place it upon the map in its long, unbroken, and massive significance.... It is no mean addition to human knowledge that we should realize the assured existence of one of the greatest mountain masses in the world. As regards the name which Dr. Hedin has given to it, I will only say that the desiderata for the title of a new and momentous geographical discovery appear to be these: (1) that the name should if possible be given by the principal discoverer; (2) that it should not be unpronounceable, unwriteable, over-recondite, or obscure; (3) that it should if possible possess some descriptive value; and (4) should not violate any acknowledged canons of geographical nomenclature. The name Trans-Himalaya combines all these advantages, and it has a direct Central Asian analogy in the Trans-Alai, which is a range of mountains standing in the same relation to the Alai that Trans-Himalaya will do to Himalaya. I am not in the least impressed by the fact that the name was once given to another range, where its unsuitability secured its early extinction. Any attempts to substitute another title on the present occasion will, in my opinion, be foredoomed to failure.
My long journey backwards and forwards over the Trans-Himalaya cannot be regarded as more than a cursory and defective reconnaissance of a country hitherto unknown. It is easier to go to Lhasa with a force armed to the teeth, and shoot down the Tibetans like pheasants if they stand in the way, than to cross Tibet in all directions for two long years with four Governments and all the authorities of the land as opponents, twelve poor Ladakis as companions, and not a single man as escort. It is no merit of mine that I was long able to maintain a position which from the first seemed untenable. The same lucky star looked down, as often before, on my lonely course through vast Asia, and it is twenty-four years since I first took up my pilgrim staff. I have been able to follow and lay down only the chief geographical lines; between my routes many blank spaces are still left, and there is sufficient detailed work for generations of explorers and travellers more thoroughly prepared and better equipped than myself.
Go, then, out into the world, thou ringing and sonorous name for one of the world’s mightiest mountain systems, and find thy way into geographical text-books, and remind children in the schools of the snow-crowned summits on the Roof of the World, among which the monsoon storms have sung their deafening chorus since the beginning. As long as I live, my proudest memories, like royal eagles, will soar round the cold desolate crags of the Trans-Himalaya.
CHAPTER LXXIV
SIMLA
Like a troop of beggars and knights of the road my twelve servants and I left Tokchen on July 24. We had stayed there nine days with nothing to do but watch the monsoon rain, which I had incautiously promised the natives, pelting down on the hills. The authorities of the place insisted this time that, as we were not furnished with a passport from Lhasa, we had no right to make use of the great high-road to Ladak, but must turn back to the interior of Tibet whence we had come. If I had not already had enough of the great blank, I would have agreed to their demand with pleasure, but I was now weary and longed for home, and as they refused the assistance and the transport facilities we required, we set out on foot with the baggage on our last ten horses and mules. I had still the white horse from Kamba Tsenam’s tent at my disposal. We had no escort, for the authorities wished to be quite clear of blame in case they were called to account. By the holy lake, where we followed the northern shore by known ways, we at length found a tramp who offered to show us the way to the Totling monastery.
In Langbo-nan I visited hastily the young abbot, as sympathetic and good-natured as the year before, and at Chiu-gompa we met our old friend Tundup Lama, fretful, melancholy, and weary of his lonely cloister life. Large streams now emptied their water into both lakes, and with a feeling of regret I left again the scene of so many precious memories.