Gulam Razul and Robert were the only ones who were initiated into my new plans, for in them I could place the blindest confidence. During our conferences we spoke in Persian, and Robert kept a watch that no eavesdropper came near my tent. Gulam Razul undertook to get together the new caravan from Leh, and it was to reach at a certain time Drugub, where I meant to dismiss my last thirteen men; they were worn-out and longed to get home. Gulam Razul undertook the responsibility of finding me fresh men.
On October 20 we left Gartok to await in Gar-gunsa the arrival of the consignment from India. Gulam Razul, Thakur Jai Chand, the postmaster Deni Das, and the doctor Mohanlal, also moved thither. Robert had heard in Gartok the sad news that his elder brother had died in Further India, and now he received a fresh blow, for his little brother, ten years old, had been drowned in Srinagar. He was inconsolable, and begged me to let him go home to his mother, who had now only one son left. So I was to lose him also.
Gulam Razul had three large tents within his fence of boughs (Illust. 254). There he sat like a pasha on his divan, smoked a large silver narghilé, and received his guests with Oriental dignity. He was jovial and agreeable, undertook to do everything, and thought nothing of difficulties. There we made our plans and long lists of things to be bought, and as my arrival in Ladak could not be kept secret for long, we spread the report that I wanted a new caravan for a journey to Khotan, and that I intended to travel to Pekin in the spring. For the success of the plan it was essential that no one should have any suspicion of my real intentions; for in that case, especial orders would be sent to Rudok and to the nomads. My own servants and all Hajji Nazer Shah’s household believed therefore that it was my settled purpose to go to Khotan, and that I had given up all thoughts of Tibet. I even went so far as to send a telegram from Drugub to Reuter’s correspondent in India, my friend Mr. Buck, with the information that I was about to make a short journey to Khotan. The object was to mislead the mandarins. If no one else would help me, I must help myself, and, if necessary, with cunning and trickery. None of my Indian friends must have any suspicion of my real plans, not even Colonel Dunlop Smith; it would, of course, be silly to put them in a position where they must either betray me or be disloyal to their own superiors. Except Gulam Razul and Robert, only my parents and sisters were let into the secret. But, unfortunately, I had given them a far too optimistic estimate of the length of my enterprise, and therefore when they heard no news they became day by day more uneasy, and at last came to the conclusion that I had come to grief (Illust. 234).
On October 29, 1907, Gulam Razul’s mules arrived, and were subjected to a thorough inspection. They were in splendid condition—small, sturdy, and sleek animals from Lhasa, accustomed to rarefied air, and, according to the owner, capable of enduring hardships of every kind. Gulam Razul even offered to buy them back at the price I paid, if they returned alive. I paid for all the twenty 1780 rupees. I still possessed five of my own animals, after a small white mule had been torn to pieces by wolves in Gartok. A whole pack had attacked our last six animals, the camp watchman had been unable to drive the wolves away, and the mule had been horribly wounded. He had been seen running before the wolves with his entrails trailing on the ground. The last mule from Poonch still survived, as well as my little Ladaki grey and one of his fellows, the veterans of Leh.
| 285. On the Way to Tankse. |
| 286. In the Indus Valley on the Way to Ladak. |
| 287. The New Horses and Mules at Drugub. |
Gulam Razul also undertook to procure for me fifteen excellent horses from Ladak at a price of 1500 rupees. The other purchases consisted of: barley for the animals, 60 rupees; rice, 70 rupees; tsamba, 125 rupees; provender sacks, 60 rupees; clothes for the new men, 152 rupees; butter, 80 rupees; tea, 50 rupees; stearin candles and sugar, 104 rupees; a Lhasa skin coat for myself, 40 rupees; and a sleeping-bag of soft goatskin, also for myself, 25 rupees; in addition there was the hire of the pack animals which conveyed my baggage to Leh, 40 rupees, and the cost of transporting the newly purchased goods from Leh to Drugub, 20 rupees. Eleven men were to be enlisted in Leh, all having served in Hajji Nazer Shah’s commercial house and known as honest respectable people. They were to receive 15 rupees a month each, though their usual wages had not been more than 12, and three months’ pay in advance. The caravan bashi was to receive 50 rupees a month and be selected with very great care. My whole debt to Gulam Razul amounted to nearly 5000 rupees, for those who had had the trouble of making all these purchases were to receive a douceur over and above. I sent a note of hand to Colonel Dunlop Smith, with directions that this sum should be paid to Gulam Razul, in order that he might have security if I did not return from this journey.
On October 30 Gulam Razul sent his son to Leh to equip the new caravan, which was to reach Drugub, ready in all particulars, on November 30. For the valuable services rendered me on this occasion Gulam Razul afterwards received from H.M. King Gustaf of Sweden the gold medal “for distinguished service,” and I recommended him to the Indian Government for the title of honour, Khan Bahadur; of course I based my appeal in this case on the great commercial services he had rendered to the Indian Empire.
In Gar-gunsa I heard news of a new treaty between Great Britain and Russia, which had been concluded in October of this year. “Great Britain and Russia bind themselves not to allow any scientific expedition of any kind whatsoever to enter Tibet for the next three years without previous agreement, and call upon China to act similarly” (Illust. 274).
It seemed as though this clause were especially designed to meet my case. I said not a word to Gulam Razul about it. But I saw that I could no longer travel in Tibet as a European. Last year I had been successful when the political situation was still unsettled, but I had taught both the Chinese and Tibetans a lesson, and shown them that it was possible for a European to travel right across the country. I had also placed a weapon in their hands against me. I should not be able to manage it a second time. Now they would keep their eyes open along the periphery of the inhabited country. I must travel in disguise to attract as little attention as possible. Another courier was therefore sent to Leh to procure me a complete Ladaki costume in Mohammedan fashion. Gulam Razul also was of opinion that, considering all circumstances, it would be wisest to travel as a merchant. The new caravan leader was to be our master, while I myself should figure as “the least of his servants,” and keep myself out of sight in all negotiations.
The whole affair was a desperate game, a political and diplomatic game of chess, the stakes being my own life or great geographical discoveries. I, who had hitherto stood on the most friendly and confidential terms with the Tibetans, must now avoid them as enemies. I should not be able to see any Tibetan face to face, and should have to conceal my own eyes in order not to be caught. Therefore a large pair of round goggles with dark glasses was bought; inside them I fastened polished glasses of the strength suited to my sight. My European outfit was restricted as much as was at all possible; the large camera and the boat were sent to Leh with my other baggage, and I took with me only a small Richard’s camera.