August 20.—Started for Ladak again, nominally at some desperately early hour of the morning, but in reality at about half-past five, the sun not shining upon our position until late, in consequence of our proximity to the mountains. Mr. Rajoo being still indisposed, and, in his own belief, dying, we mounted him upon a hill [[203]]horse, where he looked like a fly on a dromedary. Halted for breakfast half way, and had a hot wearisome march afterwards into Ladak, the sun being intensely powerful, and the greater part of the journey over a glaring desert of shifting sand and loose stones. So deep was this in some places, that it was with difficulty we could drag our steps along. The latter part seemed perfectly interminable, and not until four o’clock, burnt, tired, and parched with thirst, did we reach our old halting place. Since our departure, the Thanadar had changed his fancy as to brandy, and now requested a bottle of vinegar. This we promised in the event of his procuring us some tea, our stock being low, and none other procurable without government assistance. By this means we obtained a decorated bundle of pale-looking tea for thirteen rupees, or 1l. 6s. The bundle contained 7½ lbs., so that the price was heavy enough, considering our proximity to the land of tea.

My shoe-leather being in a doubtful state, I invested in a pair of the sheepskin Chino-Esquimaux ones of local manufacture, but soon found that the old saw of “nothing like leather” was quite a fallacy, when the leather savoured so strongly of mutton as that composing my new boots did. In the morning they were [[204]]absent, and it was not until after much search that the mutilated remains of one foot was discovered, gnawed and sucked out of all semblance to Blucher, Wellington, or any other known order of shoe or boot, while the other appeared irretrievably to have gone to the dogs. Our lantern here was also carried off by some of the canine race, and left beautifully cleaned, but unbroken, not far from our tent door.

Finding that there was no news of caravans, or probability of their arriving, we determined upon striking our camp, and retiring again towards Cashmere, having attained the furthermost point which the limits of our leave allowed. [[205]]


[1] Of this custom Turner remarks, alluding to Thibet Proper:—“Here we find a practice at once different from the modes of [[185]]Europe, and opposite to those of Asia. That of one female associating her fate and fortune with all the brothers of a family, without any restriction of age or numbers. The choice of a wife is the privilege of the elder brother; and singular as it may seem, a Thibetan wife is as jealous of her connubial rites as ever the despot of an Indian Zenana is of the favours of his imprisoned fair.” [↑]

[2] “As the inscription of course begins at opposite ends on each side, the Thibetans are careful in passing that they do not trace the words backwards.”—Turner. [↑]

[3] This is Mount “Everest,” which has been called, the King of [[188]]the South. The King of the North, “Nunga Purbut,” is 26,629 feet above the level of the sea. [↑]

[4] Vide illustration, Hemis Monastery. [↑]

[5] The only information I here again received was “Ûm mani panee!” The wheel consisted of a roll of the thinnest paper, six inches in diameter, and five and a half in width, closely printed [[201]]throughout with the eternally recurring words, which all appeared so ready to pronounce and none seemed able to explain. The roll was sixty yards long, and was composed of a succession of strips, one foot nine inches in length, and all joined together. The whole was inclosed in a coarse canvas cover, open at both ends, and marked with what was no doubt the official seal of the particular society for the diffusion of ignorance at Lassa, from which it had originally emanated. Each of the strips contained the mystic sentence, one hundred and seventy times, so that I was thus at once put into possession of all the valuable intelligence to be derived from “Ûm mani panee,” repeated between seventeen and eighteen thousand times. Vide [Appendix B]. [↑]