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TO LHASA IN
DISGUISE

AN ACCOUNT OF A SECRET EXPEDITION
THROUGH MYSTERIOUS TIBET

Wm. MONTGOMERY McGOVERN

Pii.D. (OxoN.)

FORMFHLY I.ECTURFR IN COINESF AND ] \PANI’S!:, SCHOOL OF ORII NTAl,
STUDIKS, UNIV. OF LONDON

THORNTON BUTTERWORTII, LTD.
IS BEDFORD SI'REEl', LONDON

First Published

1924

MADE AKD PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN

AU rights reserved

DEDICATION

TO WILLIAM DEDERICH, ESQ.

Dear Mr. Dederich,—

It would seem to me quite wrong that this book should
go out without being dedicatiid to you, for not only were you
the kindly patron through whose unfailing support and co¬
operation the whole journey through Tibet was niad(! po,s.sibl(‘,
but it is entirely owing to your insistence that the present book
has been written.

I had intended to write a somewhat technical volume dealing
with the scientific results of my journey Ihrough Tibet, witli
special reference to anthropology, botli physical and social,
omitting all matters of merely personal reference, but you have
persuaded me tliat you, and perliaps some otlKTs, would be
interested in reading a plain account of some of the personal
experhmees which my secret expedition to 1'ibet entailed.

It certainly was interesting to be forced fo see Tibet, and
the Tibetans, from the Tibetan point of view, to live as a
Tibetan for months when a false word or act would have given
me away; to bo forced to study tlieir quaint customs, not
merely from a dry, dull, .scientific standpoint, but also that I
might journey amongst them without being detected, and so
I hav(! given way to your arguments and, departing from my
custom with previous books, have tried to describe some of
the varied experiences which I encountered during my secret
expedition to the Sacred City.

I have, therefore, put off to a subseipient volume disciLSsion
of the more technical side of my exploration work, detailed
notes on the physical geography of the country, and the
comparative anatomical measurements which I made with the
view of ascertaining the exact racial position of the people.

DEDICATION

In the same way I have postponed detailed treatment the
mimite points of Tibetan Buddhist philosophy—a subject which
greatly interested me—and have tried to make the present
volume one which can be read with interest and enjoyment
and not merely be used as a book of reference.

At the same time I have tried to include in thi® work some-^
thing which would make it of more lasting^ worth, numerous'
notes of personal observation of various aspects of the country
and of the people. I have tried to weave through the record a
general but accurate description of manners and customs and
beliefs, including some of the extraordinary institutions which
exist in the government of Lhasa.

Finally, I have tried to give an adequate description of the
great transformation which has taken place in Tibet during the
last few years, so that I hope it can be claimed that my book gives
to the general public its first exact information concerning the
present diplomatic, political, military, and industrial situation
in a country which occupies such an important strategic centre
that it is of interest to all students of Asiatic and world affairs.

This work is sent out in aU true humility. I make no
pretence to style or to fine writing, but if you and others can
get any pleasure from reading of adventures which took place,
and observations which were made onThe Roof of the World,

I shall feel more than repaid for all the trouble which the
writing of this book has entailed.

You and I both know how much I am indebted to Mr. J. E,
Pryde-Hughes for his constant and efficient help in the
preparation of the book.

Wm. Montgomery McGovern.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

I TIBET AND THE TIBETANS . . . . I3

II THE FIRST ATTEMPT ..... 18

HI BRITISH INFLUENCE IN SIKKIM . . . 30

IV ON THE TRADE-ROUTE .... 42

V GYANGTSE ; A BRITISH OUTPOST ... 49

VI PREPARATIONS FOR THE NEW ATTEMPT . 57

VII F'ROM JUNGLE TO GLACIER .... 68

VIII TRAPPED IN THE PASSES .... 79

IX “ VICTORY TO THE GODS ! ” . . . 96

X THE DISGUISE TESTED .... 110

XI PROVINCIAL GOVERNMENT . . . - 1 X 5

XII LIFE ON THE PLAINS.I30

XIII ON TO SHIGATSE.I44

XIV THE ROAD OF ENCHANTMENT . . • 163

XV SHIGATSE ONWARD.X76

XVI ALONG THE BRAHMAPUTRA .... I99

XVII GOSSIP AND CUSTOMS. 215

XVIII INTO THE lion’s MOUTH .... 223

XIX RUNNING THE GAUNTLET .... 238

XX THE GOAL IN SIGHT.254

XXI EXPOSED 1 .262

CONTENTS

CHAPTER • PAGE

XXII THE STRONG MAN OF TIBET . . . 274

XXIII BEFORE THE CITY MAGISTRATES . . . 294

XXIV SECRET MEETING WITH DALAI LAMA . . • 305

327

XXV MODERNISING LHASA .

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Dr. William Montgomery McGovern . . » Frontispiece

FACIKG PAGE

The Oracle of Tibet ....... 44

The Oracle as he is normally, with Ms Servants . , « 44

Gyangtse : The Golden Cliorten (Pagoda) * ... 54

“ Satan ''—Dr. McGovern's harebrained Tibetan Secretary , 58

The Road to Gyangtso ....... 120

Gyangls{'% the Third City of Tibet ..... lao

Monks at Prayer inside a Tibetan Cathedral , . . 166

The Trashi Lama . . 180

Procession with the Palanquin of the Trashi Lama . . 180

Tibetan Aristocrats; Mother and Daughter . . . 184

A Tibetan Princess in Gala Dress ..... 184

A Religions Dance by Lamas in a Tibetan Monastery . . 196

Tibetan Lama Dancers in Masks ..... 196

A Tibetan Lama Orchestra.. 220

Tibetan Noblemen ....... 220

The Monastery of Dr^pnng, near Lhasa .... 250

Lhasa: The Potala, the Palace of the Dalai Lama . . 256

One of the Main Streets in Lhasa ..... 268

Tsarong Shape, Commander-in-Chief of the New Army . 290

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

FACfNG PAGE

Effigy of a Dead Abbot in a Tibetan Cathedral . » . 298

A Tibetan Divinity « . . . » . . 298

His Holiness the Dalai Lama ® 306

MAPS IN TEXT

PAGE

Maps of Asia showing Tibet ...... iq

Dr. McGovern's route to Lhasa ..... 61

Dr. McGovern's route through Sikkim .... 81

Sectional Map showing Ringpo and the Rong River , . 207

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

CHAPTER I

TIBET AND THE TIBETANS

Foe many years Tibet has been the mysterious unkiwjwn
country, and Lhasa, its capital, the Forbidden City of ihc
Buddhas, into which entrance by adventurous explorers was
sought in vain.

Both nature and the inhabitants have co-operated to make
entry into the country well nigh impossible. A huge talile-
land, whose average altitude is 15,000 feet above sea-level,
as high as the summit of Mont Blanc, the highest peak of
Europe, it is surrounded and intersected by even greater
mountains, many of them over 20,000 feet high, shroude<l in
perpetual ice and snow.

Tibet has an area of over one million scjuarc miles, but
though it lies between the two fertile countries of India and
China, so bleak and so cold is it that nearly the whole land is
a desert devoid of trees and plants, producing only patch(;.s
sparse grass which serve to support the deer, the wild ass, tin;
yak, and herds of cattle and sheep. Barley, a hardy plant, is
the one cereal grown, and even this flourishes only in the
milder parts ; but hidden within the ample bo.som of this ariii
land are vast, and almost untouched, stores of natural inintirai
wealth.

Scattered over this huge territory ar<; groups of native's
fiercely jealous of every intruder. Many of’them are nomads
moving here and there with their flocks. Others form com¬
munities dwelling in settled villages. Nearer the larger towns,
perched on high hills or precipitous cliffs, are to be found

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

gigantic stone castles, of quaint old-world design, wh.id.1 frown
upon the countryside.

Even more numerous than the castles are the monasteries,
for Tibet is the country of monks. One man out of every, four
is a priest, and such persons dwell together in vast buildings
placed far away from other habitation. But su«h institutions,
instead of being havens of peace, are th§ centres of turmoil.
Many of their inhabitants become what are known as fighting
monks and spend their time in brawling.

WUd, reckless men they are. Sometimes one monastery
will wage war against another, and sometimes these ecclesi¬
astical swashbucMers wUl pour into the towns, and seize and
hack to pieces some unpopular governor. The monasteries,
having hundreds, and in some cases thousands, of inhabitants,
overawe the districts in which they are placed.

It is the monks who are fiercest in hatred of outsiders ; it is
they who present the greatest danger to the would-be explorer
of the inhabited portion of Tibet, for in their foreigner-hating
zeal they are apt to ignore any safe-conduct which might be
granted by the civil authorities to a stranger.

In the very heart of this gloomy land is the sacred city of
Lhasa. Here lives the Dalai Lama, who is both the Emperor
and the High Priest of his people, who regard him as an incar¬
nate god. In his magnificent palace, the Potala, he dwells on
public occasions surrounded with all the pomp that befits
a living deity, and receives in audience the pilgrims who
come from every part of Tibet to bring rich offerings and
to adore.

He who would seek to penetrate into Lhasa must first over¬
come the tremendous physical difficulties which bar the way
to the threshold of Tibet, and even if he rise victorious over
ice and snow, gnarled crag and precipitous cliff, he finds upon
arrival on the plateau an angry populace which bars the way
and insists on an immediate return.

In the old days various well-known explorers tried, by means
of devious routes and various disguises, to escape being turned
back at the frontier, and some, ipdeed, succeeded in passing
far into the interior, but only to find that sooner or later, before
reaching Lhasa, the abode of the Gods, that they were detected
and further progress barred. Among the most noteworthy of

TIBET AND THE TIBETANS 15

these exjSorers were the Swede, Sven Hedin, and the illustrious
American scholar, W. W. Rockhill.

In the last few years a few have been more fortunate. Sir
Francjs Younghusband, Sir Charles Bell, and General Pereira,
for example, penetrating to the goal, have been able to throw
a great deal of 4 ight upon many hitherto unknown aspects of
Central Tibetan life. •The Younghusband military expedition
of 1904 to Tibet, particularly, was destined to alter greatly the
internal histqry of the country. But in each case the torchlight
which illuminated for a moment the Tibetan darkness has been
extinguished, and once again and, in fact, more than ever is
Tibet the mysterious unknown country and Lhasa the
Forbidden City of the Buddhas.

In recent years both country and capital have become more
particularly worthy of study, owing to the curious developments
which have taken place there. While retaining the glamour of
mystery which belongs to a country ruled by monks, many of
whom are worshipped as gods, a country which shuts the door
on all intruders from without, it is now worthy of the interest
of the student of diplomacy, politics, and economics.

We are all aware of the extraordinary tramsformation which
Japan underwent during the course of the latter part of the last
century, when from a quaint kingdom of fable, closed to the
outside world, it became a first-class modem power, with all
the equipment and organization of the West.

A similar transforming movement is now taking place in
Tibet—a movement which may have an important influence
upon the political future of Eastern A.sia. Until 1912 Tibet
was a vassal of China, without a standing army or adequate
munitions of war. To-day the Chinese have been expeUed,
and Tibet stands alone and independent. She has a new army,
an army ever growing in numbers, well drilled, well disciplined,
and armed with rifles, either imported from Europe or made
in the Lhasa arsenal. Regular postal communications have
been opened between the principal towns, and Lhasa itself is
possessed of telephone and telegraph, quaint and crude to be
sure, but workable; and .that last instance of modem
European culture, paper money, is now being printed.

The government has also undergone considerable develop¬
ment. The Dalai Lama, the Supreme Pontiff of Tibetan

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

Buddhism, is now in fact, as his predecessors were^in name,
the absolute ruler of the country. Tibet has long been
possessed of two curious bodies, a council of shapds or secre¬
taries of state, constituting a cabinet, and a Tsongdu, or
National Assembly, the Tibetan Parliament or Congress ; but
in the last decade both these bodies have undergone an interest¬
ing evolution, making them correspond'more closely to their
European counterparts, and even in distant Tibet constitutional
crises are by no means unknown. What is mpst curious is
that these modem movements seem to have had no effect in
rendering Tibet less exclusive—^in fact, in some ways the ring
grows tighter. In previous years the Chinese at least were
admitted to Lhasa, and now even these are excluded. The
new institutions, such as the post and the telegraph, arc
employed as the most efficient means of keeping the European
intruder out, as in this way constant communication between
the frontier and the capital is ensured.

To the adventurer and the explorer, therefore, Tibet at the
present moment presents a fascinating field of research. In
my own case I was equally interested by Tibet as the luring
past, and as the womb of the unborn to-morrow. As an
anthropologist I became fascinated by the Tibetan people,
with their customs, their language, their religion, and their
literature. All of these are in some way uniqiie. As one
who had studied some of the modern developments in diplo¬
macy and statecraft in the other countries of the East, I was
anxious to study the changing institutions of this hidden,
theocratic empire, and to see what effect these developments
might have upon the relations of the surrounding peoples.

In bygone years I had devoted much time to a theoretical
study of the Tibetan language and customs, in the hope that
this would the better enable me to carry on exploration at fir.st
hand. But it was my privilege to utilize this stored-up
knowledge and to continue my studies under very peculiar
conditions. Circumstances forced me to cross an i8,ooo-fect
pass into Tibet in mid-winter, at a time when it was blocked
with snow and supposedly closed, to all travellers, even natives.
Arrived in Tibet, I had necessarily to disguise myself as a
Tibetan coolie, and to travel as such through the heart of the
country. During the latter part of this secret journey the

TIBET AND THE TIBETANS 17

Tibetan- Government learned of my escapade and ordered a
sharp watch to be kept for me at all the villages. The caravan
with which I was travelling, in the humble capacity of servant,
was several times stopped and examined without my being
discovered.

At last I aiyived in Lhasa. Here I was foolish enough to
reveal myself voluMarily to the authorities, with the result
that the monks in Lhasa led a popular riot against me, and the
civil Government, in an attempt to protect my person, was
forced to declare me a prisoner of state until the popular
clamour had subsided.

After a six weeks’ stay in Lhasa, I was permitted to return
to India, an escort being given me in order to ensure my safety.
In this way my adventure came to an end, but in the mean¬
time I had been able to secure numerous priceless manuscripts,
had met or seen all the principal persons in the sacred city, and
had had unequalled opportunities for studying the inner life
of the Tibetan people and the working of their institutions.

CHAPTER II

THE FIRST ATTEMPT

The journey which was destined to have this adventurous
end started in a much more conventional fashion. It was, in
fact, but the sequel to an earlier open expedition by a party,
consisting of five Europeans engaged on scientific research,
which penetrated one hundred and fifty miles inside the Tibcfian
frontier, and managed to acquire a great deal of scientific
material before it was stopped and turned back by the order of
the Tibetan authorities. It was only through this expedition,
of which I was a member, that I gained the necessary experi¬
ence and information to enable me to carry out my journey in
disguise, so that it is necessary in the first place to give a short
account of this first attempt to reach the Forbidden City.

In 1921 Mr. George Knight, F.R.G.S., conceived the idea of
organizing a research mission to Tibet to carry out a thorough
survey of the country and the people.

It was first of all necessary to get in touch with someone
who was in a position to organize and finance such an expedi¬
tion. After several disheartening failures to secure .such
support, Mr. Knight obtained the hearty co-operation of Mr.
William Dederich, F.R.G.S., who was a friend of the late; Sir
Ernest Shackleton, and who had rendered that great explorer
practical help in the organization of Shackleton’s iq 14
Antarctic expedition. Mr. Dederich is not only a generous
patron of scientific exploration, but a man whoso administra¬
tive ability renders him of great assistance to an expcxlition
faced with the complicated problems of equipment and organiza¬
tion. By his aid the idea was soon placed on a stable basis
and active steps could be taken towards sending out the explor¬
ing party.

THE FIRST ATTEMPT 19

At first the personnel of the new expedition consisted of four
persons, viz. Mr. G. Knight, the leader, who was also to look
after botanical and zoological research ; Captain J. E. Ellam,
the fo-leader, who was to devote himself to the study of the
political and religious institutions of the country; Mr.
!^federic Fletcher, who was to act as geologist and also trans¬
port officer to the party ; and finally Mr. William Harcourt,
who was appointed cinematographer, for it was realized that
in modem,times a living pictorial record of the land and

the people should be an integral part of every scientific
expedition.

At a somewhat later period—^in fact, only a short time before
the date fixed for departure—I was asked to join the mission
as general adviser, as it was thought that my previous residence
in the Orient and my knowledge of the Tibetan language and
customs might prove useful. Through the kindness of Sir

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

E. Denison Ross I was able to secure leave of absence ftom my
University, and was thus enabled to accept the invitation.

We had then to decide upon the direction by which Tibet
was to be entered. Three places at once suggested themsglves.
One was to advance from the east through China. Another
was to go from the west through Kashmir and Northern India.
The third was to start from Darjeeling, and to pass through tfae
small semi-independent state of Sikkim, which lies between the
larger countries of Nepal and Bhutan, and over thg Himalayas
into Tibet proper.

This last was the route eventually selected, because it would
bring the expedition into immediate contact with the central
portion of Tibet and with its two great cities, Shigatse and
Lhasa. This route was the more preferable because, as a
result of the Younghusband expedition, the Indian Govern¬
ment had secured the right to send certain specially-selected
persons to two places inside of Tibet itself. The first of these
places was the town of Yatung in the Chumbi Valley, just
inside the Tibetan frontier. The other was the city of
Gyangtse, a hundred and fifty miles in the interior. Persons
permitted to travel to either place were required to go in a
direct line, without deviating in any way from the main trade-
route.

The India Office and the Government of India were
approached on the subject, and after some negotiation gave
us the necessary permission to travel to Gyangtse, there to
apply to the Tibetan Government for further permission to
proceed to Lhasa and other portions of the interior, but refused
to give us any further support or recognition.

In July 1922 the party set sail for India. It was found
impossible for all the members to go out together, so it was
agreed to make Darjeeling our rendezvous. Fletcher and
Harcourt, however, accompanied me on the s.s. Nellore, and
after touching at Malta, Port Said, Colombo, and Madras, we
arrived at Calcutta in the middle of August. It was then, of
course, the height of the Indian summer, and on many occasions
the thermometer registered 110° i^^ the shade.

I have always had a fondness for tropical heat, but my
companions suffered so much from it that, after collecting the
boxes which had been sent out from England and making

THE FIRST ATTEMPT

a number of further purchases necessary for camp life in Tibet,
we went by rail to Darjeeling, where before long the whole of
our party assembled.

Darjeeling lies on an outer spur of the great Himalayan
range. It is over 7,000 feet above sea-level, and even in
summer is delightfully cool. For this reason it was made
the summer capitabof the province of Bengal: Calcutta, of
course, being the winter capital. The chief objection to
Darjeeling is its great rainfall, most of which occurs during
the summer months, which is the period of the rainy season
all over India.

Sixty years ago Darjeeling (properly Dorjeling—the Temple
of the Thunderbolt!) consisted of an insignificant village,
forming part of the territory seized by the British Indian
Government from the little independent hill state of Sikkim
by way of reparations. Reparations in those days seem
to have been a matter more easily and quickly settled
than now!

Darjeeling has had a very rapid development and is now
a flourishing city. A large portion of the land seized along
with Darjeeling, land which is known as British Sikkim, is laid
out in tea plantations, supervised by Europeans, who use
Darjeeling as their supply base and frequently ride in for dances
and other festivities : their club, the Planters' Club, is a very
important institution.

Apart from these, the resident European population is very
small The more important officials of the Bengal Government
have villas scattered along the hillsides, but these are occupied
chiefly in summer, at which time the hotels and boarding¬
houses are also packed with visitors. The native population
is much larger and is more permanent.

The great Darjeeling market-square is the famous meeting-
place for people of every race and caste. There is a substratum
of the old Sikkimese population. Sikkimese are really Tibetans
who, in comparatively modern times, have migrated and
settled south of the Himalayas. They have kept the appear¬
ance, the language, and the religion of their Tibetan ancestors,
and for their benefit there are three Lama (Tibetan Buddhist)
monasteries in the neighbourhood of the city. In recent years
numerous settlers have arrived from the Indian plains. These,

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

of course, are either Hindus or Mohammedans, and ffr their
benefit there have been erected a Hindu temple and a mosque
in the heart of the city.

An even larger number of people come from without the
bounds of British India. These include immigrants from the
still independent parts of Sikkim, and from Bhutan, Nepal, and
Tibet. Tibetans are to be seen all over the town and attract
a good deal of attention from the tourists. Many of them have
brought down curios from their native lands which are sold at
enormous profit to European visitors.

Our party stayed for some three weeks at the Labyrinth, a
small residential hotel, and it required ail of this time to com¬
plete our preparations. Knight and the other members of the
expedition frequently visited the market-place in order to secure
those supplies which had not been procured in either England
or Calcutta.

I, for the most part, was engaged ingoing native,'' spending
long hours with the Sikkimese and Tibetans who are resident
in Darjeeling. A number of the Tibetans were lamas, or priests,
who had come down to India to go on pilgrimages to the holy
places of Buddhism. Buddhism has long died out in India
which is, however, frequently visited by Buddhists of other
lands, who love to walk in the footsteps of their Master, dead
these two thousand five hundred years.

These long conversations served both to practise my Tibetan
colloquial language, and also to add to our scanty stock of
information about the conditions existing in the Forbidden
Land. The good manageress of our hotel, a dear, stout old
Scotch lady of strict Presbyterian doctrine, with singular views
on the heathen," often lifted her hands in horror when she
saw my private sitting-room crowded with weird pilgrims wlio
had come from north of the Passes, with the odour of the
mountains still strong upon them.

The Umdze, or Dean, of one of the local Sikkimese temples
was one of the most frequent of my visitors, and as he had
already been to Shigatse and to Lhasa, the goals of our journey,
and therefore knew the way, I at length engaged him as my
secretary, and procured for him leave of absence from his
temple so that he might come with us. It is considered very
impolite in Tibet to call a man by his name when he possesses

THE FIRST ATTEMPT

a title tof any sort, so he should have been called Umdze-
la la/' lit. lags/' being a term of respect which may
mean either Mr., Mrs., Miss, or Master). But this was too
much of a mouthful for our party. So they christened
him Toby," and Toby to the end of the Journey he
remained.

‘"One of the most# useful of our informants in Darjeeling
was Laden La {lit. " legs, Man lags "), a very well-known
character in this part of the world. The son of an insignificant
Sikkimese landowner, he entered the police force while a boy,
became a police sergeant, and eventually was given a commis¬
sion as captain, and became deputy and acting superintendent
of police. Shortly after our arrival in India he was made an
honorary A.D.C. to Lord Lytton, the Governor of Bengal, a
unique honour for a native. His unofficial position, however,
is even greater, and we found him the uncrowned king of the
whole Darjeeling district. Every native in the place is abso¬
lutely under his thumb, taking, changing, and losing his post
at Laden's command. It is almost entirely at his order that
Darjeeling remained nearly free from the Gandhi movement
that swept over the whole of India. In accordance with
Oriental custom and tradition, Ms position has rendered it
advisable for the natives to offer him slight tokens of their
esteem from time to time, so that he is now in the possession of
quite a considerable fortune.

Fortune has brought him into very close touch with the
highest Tibetan officials. The two great potentates of Tibet,
the Trashi Lama of Shigatse and the Dalai Lama of Lhasa,
have both made visits to India, and in both cases Laden La
was lent to them by the Indian Government to act as a guide
and guard. As a result of this Laden was made an honorary
chamberlain of the Dalai Lama’s Court, and was given the rank
of Dep5n, or General, in the new Tibetan army, and a few
months after my return from Tibet he was actually called to
Lhasa to organize, for the Dalai Lama, a police force for the
capital.

We found him an exceedingly acute and able man, and
so soon as he was good enough to grant us his favour
we found things mysteriously expedited, for not only did
he give us letters of introduction to various people in

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

Tibet, but he enabled us to secure able and <faithful
servants.

We had next to arrange for our transport. Wheeled traffic
of any sort was of course impossible over the passes, and is
unknown anywhere in Tibet. For ourselves and our bearers
we secured ponies, and for the major portion oj^our transport,
mules. We intended to keep to the great feigh-roads even aftfer
entering Tibet. Along these high-roads it is always possible
to hire animals, and as this was cheaper and less trouble¬
some, we decided against purchasing any horses, particularly
as any animals we might purchase in Darjeeling would be
unfit for use on the high plateau of Tibet. For the first
part of our journey riding-ponies were to cost us five
rupees, and transport mules three rupees, a day.

We were now in a position to start on our journey. In any
case we should have to pass through the semi-independent state
of Sikkim on our way to Tibet, but it was decided that our
main party should take the short-cut which lay through the
south-east of this little country, while I was to start a few days
earlier and make a detour in order to visit the Maharaja, or
King, of Sikkim, at his capital of Gantok, rejoining the main
party at Yatung, just inside of the Tibetan borders.

I was anxious to start on September 5, but this was an
unlucky day, according to Tibetan calculations, and Toby
insisted that I wait until the next day, which was more
auspicious. The Tibetans are grossly superstitious, and
arrange aU their affairs with reference to lucky and unlucky
days. These are calculated both with reference to the days of
the month and also the days of the week. Thus, for example,
Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays are bad days on which
to start some new undertaking, while Mondays, Wednesdays,
and Sundays are considered fortunate. The ninth, thirteenth,
nineteenth, and twenty-ninth days of the month are considered
of particularly good omen, and Toby pleaded that we postpone
our departure until the nineteenth and also a Sunday, doubly
favourable. He seemed very much surprised that I refused
to sacrifice two weeks in order to start things properly. At
last he consented to come on the sixth, a Wednesday, provided
that we started at nine o’clock, which the calendar declared
to be an opportune hour.

THE FIRST ATTEMPT 25

In ca^ urgent business makes it necessary for a Tibetan
to start a journey on an unlucky day, he will, on some
preceding lucky day, have a hat or some other article of
clothing sent on ahead a mile or two on the road, because
it is thought that in this way the gods can be beguiled
into believing tiiat the man himself started on the correct
occasion.

I was told a good tale of a Tibetan who took a long journey
with his wife. He so arranged the matter that he arrived at
and left each®town en route on a lucky day. While still on the
journey the poor wife died (was this part of the good luck ?)
and the delay caused by this event upset the whole schedule,
so that the man was held up for several weeks at a little village
waiting for the next scries of auspicious dates to come round
again.

On the sixth a special service was held in Toby's monastery
at daybreak, and at his earnest invitation I attended this cere¬
mony in order to receive the special blessing of the abbot.
Armed with this blessing, I returned and made the final
preparations for the departure at the fateful hour of nine.
This took place without mishap. Toby, Lhaten, my
bearer or personal servant, and I trotted away on our
ponies, and we were followed by two coolies on foot who
carried the baggage, for I was travelling light and required
no mules.

At first the way lay through the damp, hot, luxuriant forest
which characterizes the southern slopes of the Himalayas,
conditions in such marked contrast to the bare, treeless, arid,
lifeless plateau of Tibet, which lies just north of that magnifi¬
cent range of mountains.

From the Tibetan point of view our start may have been very
propitious, but personally I considered it very unfavourable,
for after we had gone a mile or two it began to rain, and in fact
continued to pour down for the rest of the day. This very
much hindered our progress, and we had to stop at the little
village of Peshok. The next day we continued on our way.
An important milestone was reached when we came to the
Tista River. It is spanned by an imposing-looking bridge,
but one which is really ramshackle and unsafe. There is a
cart-road which goes as far as Kalimpong and Gantok. but

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

when the carts reach this bridge they have to be taten apart
and hauled over. Here I was instructed by Toby on two
important points of Tibetan etiquette. He would not
allow me to ride over the bridge, but insisted that I get off
my pony and walk across as a sign of reverence to the
gods of Tibet. ^

In the middle of the bridge we found a number of pa{)er
prayers fluttering in the breeze. Toby brought out three such
printed prayers which he had carried with him, and tied them
on to the others, and at the same time he threw a couple of
copper coins into the river as an offering to the deities which
dwell therein. This last is an important custom which the
Tibetans share with the ancient Romans.

We next ascended a long slope, and found ourselves in the
afternoon in the town of Kalimpong. This is the last outpost
of the British-Indian Government and an important city of
trade. It has been called the Harbour of Tibet, for while
neither European nor Indian trader is allowed in the heart of
the Forbidden Land, the llbetans arc free to come down to
India and sell their goods—chiefly wool—and take back with
them cheap knick-knacks for sale in the markets of Shigaise
and Lhasa. Kalimpong serves as the mecding-grouiid for
Indian and Tibetan traders just arriving or retuiiiiiig to Lhasa,
the secret city, so that to see the caravan leaders coming in
from the north was like having communication with another,
unseen, half-fanciful world.

In order to promote trade, the local autliorities organize
various fairs in Kalimpong, which are attended hy hordes of
people of all races, chiefly Bhutanese, Sikkimese, and Tibetans,
and the anthropologist has only to go to Kalimpong to find
abundant material for the study of types.

Kalimpong differs from Darjeeling in many ways. In the
first place, Kalimpong is part of the territory seized not from
Sikkim, but from Bhutan, and is, thercdorc^, the centre of
the district known as British Bhutan. It is some 2,000 fc^ct
lower than Darjeeling (being 5,000 feet above seadevel), Init
has the advantage of being much less damp than the latter
city.

The social distinction between tlie two towms is even greater.
Darjeeling is essentially an official post, and therefore^ the

THE FIRST ATTEMPT

missionayes play a very minor and subdued part even in the
social life of the place. In Kalimpong, on the other hand,
things are very different. Here the missionaries reign snpreme.
All the important buildings belong to the Scotch Presbyterian
Mission, which also owns large tracts of land in the district.
The senior miss^naries form the local aristocracy, overawing
evefi the British-Indism officials, and Dr. Graham, the head of
the Mission, is the uncrowned king of Kalimpong, the arbiter
and dispenser of justice even to those not inside the Christian
fold. Dr. Gfaham has won this unique position largely as a
result of his forceful, and tactful, personality, for from the
purely missionary point of view the Tibetan peoples form a
singularly unpromising field and very few converts have
been won.

Considering this and other facts, it is curious that the
Tibetans prefer Kalimpong to Darjeeling as the base of
their communications with India, but certainly the fact is
undisputed, and there is, therefore, good reason to suppose
that Kalimpong will gradually rise and Darjeeling gradually
sink in importance.

From Kalimpong the caravan-road leads on direct to the
Jelap Pass and the Chumbi Valley in Tibet. This was the road
destined to be followed by my main party, but in order to visit
Gantok, I had the next day to descend once more to the Tista
Valley and follow for many miles the course of the Tista River.
In the afternoon we reached the frontier of Sikkim. We were
stopped by some Sikkimese frontier police and had to show
our passes permitting us to enter the country.

For many years the British Government has had diplomatic
relations with Nepal and Bhutan, but both these countries have
maintained their independence. Sikkim, on the other hand,
though also nominally independent, has come much more
closely under British influence and control. The Maharaja of
Sikkim recognizes the nominal suzerainty of the Emperor of
India. An English Political Officer is resident in Gantok, the
capital, and wields a great deal of influence; but Sikkim, in
common with other so-called native states, is still entirely
autonomous on nearly all local and internal matters, possessing
her own laws and courts of justice, her own ministers and council
of state, her own system of taxation, and her own defence force ;

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

and no European can pass within her borders unless arfned with
a special official pass.

I noticed, however, that the gendarmes, or soldier-police,
who demanded our passes were Nepalese who, though in the
pay of the Sikkimese Government, could not even speak the
Sikkimese language.

Soon after crossing the frontier it begaci to rain very heavily,
so we halted for the night at the village of Rangpo, situated
in the heart of the warm, moist Tista Valley. This part of
Sikkim has an infamous reputation for malaria and other
tropical fevers, so we took great care to boil our water and to
wrap ourselves up in mosquito-nets, for the air was black with
germ-carrying insects.

The next day we continued on the Gantok road, and halted
at another little Sikkimese village that evening. On the way
we stopped to rest for a few minutes from time to time, and on
these occasions we began to be troubled with leeches. These
horrible bloodsucking little creatures were hidden in the under¬
growth, but they must have smelt our presence, for as soon as
we stopped they began coming towards us with great rapidity
in their curious form of locomotion. Although they look like
black earthworms, instead of gliding along the ground in snake¬
like fashion, they rise on their tails until they are absolutely
perpendicular, then, arching their heads down to the ground,
bring their tails up to their heads. They thus measure their
distance along the ground. It is really comic to see these tiny
creatures, without legs, walking along a path, the head and
tail taking the place of legs.

In spite of my vigilance, two or three attached themselves
to my body and began thirstily sucking blood. I wanted to
tear them off, but my bearer Lhaten would not allow me to
do this, as the flesh comes off with them leaving a nasty
wound which refuses to heal for many days thereafter. In
accordance with his instructions, therefore, I had to allow the
creatures to continue their ghastly work until he prepared a
little bag filled with salt, and, dipping this in water, let the brine
trickle down on to the leeches. This had a magical effect.
The loathsome creatures shrivelled away into seeming nothing¬
ness, leaving only a little clot of blood which we easily wiped
away.

THE FIRST ATTEMPT

We foiSid the road surprisingly good, but our day's destination
proved to be an insignificant little village. We stayed here in
comfort at the little Government rest-house, fitted out in an
entirely European style. Official rest-houses are scattered all
over the inhabited part of Sikkim,

CHAPTER III

BRITISH INFLUENCE IN SIKK'iM

When the Indian Government carried through one of its
punitive expeditions against Sikkim, it forced the Maharaja’s
Government to undertake to construct, and to keep under
repair, a number of high-roads throughout the country in
place of the casual tracks which were hitherto to be found, and
also to erect a number of these official rest-houses. All the
people of Sikkim benefit from the roads, but for the most part
gain nothing from the rest-houses, for although the Maharaja
himself and one or two of the higher members of his Court are
permitted to use them, they have been erected chiefly for the
benefit of the British Political Officer and his staff, and also
for other European travellers who are given permits from the
Government. This rest-house (or dak-bungalows) .system
forms part of the general policy of the Indian Government,
which has forced a number of rulers of other native states
to erect similar institutions.

These dak-bungalows are really dainty little villas, with a
sitting-room, two or three bedrooms, and outhouses for the use
of the traveller’s servants, and animals. They are quite nicely
furnished though, in accordance with Anglo-Indian custom,
every traveller brings his own bedclothes, and also a retinue of
servants who cook for and serve him, as each rest-house has
only a chowkidar, or caretaker, in attendance. Supplies must
be procured by one’s own servants in one of the local bazaars.

Early the next morning we continued our journey. We had
for some time a level road, and so I tried to get my pony to
canter, but found that these hill-ponies have only one pace,
viz., an amble, something between a fast walk and a trot, and
nothing will induce them to break into either a real trot or a

BRITISH INFLUENCE IN SIKKIM 31

gallop. They are able to keep up their arable all day, however,
and can in the long-riin outdistance any pony with more ortho¬
dox means of locomotion.

The^ summer rains had washed portions of the road away,

“ and I noticed a number of labourers repairing it. These also,

I noticed, were Nepalese and not Sikkimese. In fact, during
the'^last few years the^ number of immigrants from Nepal has
been so great that the Nepalese inhabitants of Sikkim far
outnumber the Sikkimese.

In the early afternoon we began another long ascent, and a
few hours later found ourselves at last in Gantok, the capital
of Sikkim. I duly installed myself in the dak-bungalow, and
a few moments later the private secretary of the Maharaja
called to welcome me in the name of his master, and to state
that His Highness would receive me in audience the next
morning at eleven. Later in the evening five servants arrived
from the palace bringing presents of food, so that I was made
to feel quite a guest of state.

The next morning at the appointed time I walked along '
the ridge over to the Maharaja's palace. This consists of two
buildings, one built in Tibetan style, and the other in European
style ; but it is significant that the European house is the only
one now in use.

I found the Maharaja a very affable young man of about
twenty-five, pale, thin, and rather nervous and anemic-looking.
Affairs of state did not obviously hold particular interest for
him, though, however, he felt bound to take them as seriously
as possible. His hobby is photography, and he spends a good
deal of time in playing with his pet animals. Much more
impressive and imposing was his wife, the Maharani, a Lhasa
woman, who obviously had a good deal to say in the government
of the household.

The Maharaja was educated at St. Paul's School, Darjeeling,
and speaks excellent English, but in deference to his lady we
spoke a good deal of Tibetan together. The Maharaja spoke
Tibetan with a marked Sikkimese accent, using a number of
local words, but was quite intelligible. What he thought of my
accent Heaven only knows !

The present ruler of Sikkim came to the throne quite unex¬
pectedly.

32 TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

His predecessor was his brother, a young mar/ of great
talent and charm, who was educated at Oxford and who had
travelled very widely. He was very much struck by Japan,
and was very anxious to marry a Japanese woman The India
Office, for obvious diplomatic reasons, refused to permit such'
a match. It is interesting to note than th% India Office had
the power to do this. The young Mahafraja then tried in Vain
to marry a Burmese princess, but in the end he was forced
to take a Lhasa lady. In spite of his modernist tendencies,
his secular position, and his state of marital blfss, he enjoyed
the distinction of being regarded as an incarnation of
divinity by both Sikkimese and Tibetans. This was the
result, not of his kingly position, but of a rather interesting
chain of circumstances, which deserve narration.

It is well known that the abbots of the leading temples in
Tibet are regarded as incarnations of various deities, or, more
technically, of various Buddhas and Bodhisattvas. When
such a person dies he is supposed to be reborn again almo.st
immediately. A search is made for the sacred child who,
when found, is at once recognized as the new abbot, a regent
being appointed to administer his duties during his minority.

In some cases the selection of the child is done purely by lot.
In other cases the old abbot, shortly before his death, will give
some indication as to the place, or family, in which he intends
to be reborn.

On one occasion, many years ago, one such living deity grew
very fond of a little Sikkimese girl, and declared shortly before
his death that he would be reborn as the first male child to
whom she should give birth. After the death of the old man,
the then Maharaja of Sikkim, learning of the prophecy, married
the girl, who in due course gave him a son and heir, who was
thus regarded as a deity while his father was stiU on the throne.

It is surprising that this young ruler whose character was
thus swathed in the atmosphere of this quaint old-world
divinity should have developed into a man so modern and
European in his ideas. In fact, he proved too progressive for
his country and his people, and not long after he returned to
his native land he died suddenly and mysteriously. Rumour
had it that some of his old-fashioned ministers, disturbed by
fear of too radical changes gave enough poison to secure that

BRITISH INFLUENCE IN SIKKIM

the divihity moved on to still another incarnation, in order
that Ms younger brother in this life, who was likely to prove
more pliable, might come to the throne.

My^ morning audience with the present Maharaja was not
the last meeting I had with him for, learning that I was anxious
to push on the mext day, he invited me to tea that afternoon
in order that I migh^ meet the Englishman who acts as his
personal assistant.

This tea-party proved very entertaining, for it was quaint
to have such an orthodox English meal in the midst of such
other-world surroundings. The personal assistant proved to
be a bluff, jolly man of great simplicity, whom I liked
immensely. He had, I think, been for many years a non¬
commissioned officer doing clerical work, and had only recently,
upon semi-retirement, taken over his new post.

His position threw an interesting light on the relations
between Sikkim and the Indian Government. The senior
British official in Sikkim is the so-called Political Officer,
appointed directly by the Viceroy of India, and he exercises an
enormous amount of power. In theory, however, his post is
entirely diplomatic, his office corresponding to that of a
minister or ambassador, so that it is impossible for him to
interfere too much in the details of everyday internal adminis¬
tration. As a further check on native malpractices, therefore,
the Maharaja is given an English '' personal assistant.'' He
is nominally a servant of the native ruler, and in theory can be
engaged and dismissed by him, but in practice he holds his
post at the pleasure of the Political Officer. It is the duty of
the personal assistant to act as secretary and adviser to the
Maharaja on all matters of State (though in theory his advice
may be disregarded), and also to superintend the wheels of the
administration and to see that no serious corruption or mal¬
practices take place.

The entire control of matters of State theoretically lies in
the hands of the Maharaja, aided by the Council of State,
consisting of various ministers in charge of separate depart¬
ments, and nominees chosen from the Sikkimese landed aris¬
tocracy. All the members of this body are, of course, natives,
and it is the wise policy of the British Government to allow the
native officials to carry out their duties according to their own
c

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

desires so long as there is no flagxant injustice and sc/long as
they do not touch on diplomatic affairs.

Very occasionally an important point of policy will be forced
on the country by the Political Officer. One such point was an
importation of Nepalese settlers into the country ®

A few decades ago the population of Sikl^m consisted of
three or four thousand Lepchas, and a Rightly larger number
of Sikkimese. The Lepchas are supposedly the primitive
inhabitants of the country A timid, spiritless, nature-loving,
childlike folk, they still try to dwell in the hidddi forests, far
away in the hills. They are probably distantly, but very
distantly, related to the Tibetans, but they possess a language
and a primitive culture entirely their own
The so-called Sikkimese are Tibetans, who m the last three
hundred years have swept down into the country from the
north, conquering and displacing the Lepchas.

Great strapping creatures, most of them are, but incurably
shiftless and lazy. Sikkim is rich in resources, but neither
Sikkimese nor Lepcha could be made to develop these.
Consequently the Political Officer of the time, Mr. J. C. White,
forced the Sikkimese Government to import Nepalese labourers
and other settlers, and now there are nearly ten Nepalese for
every one Sikkimese, even in Sikkim. This has proved enor¬
mously beneficial to the wealth of the country, but needless to
say it proved unpopular among the Sikkimese, who were forced
to work in competition with a keen and industrious people.
So far, however, the Sikkimese have kept official posts entirely
in their own hands.

The Maharaja urged me to stay in Gantok for several days
longer, but I told him that it was imperative for me to go on
with my journey the next day. He was then kind enough to
suggest that I dismiss the ponies and the coolies I had brought
with me from Darjeeling, as he would supply me free of cost
mule transport for my party to Yatung, in the Chumbi Valley,
the great Tibetan outpost.

I was very glad to avail myself of his offer, and the next
morning set out for the three days' journey to the Passes. This
consisted of a long continuous ascent along a narrow trail
which had been cut into the side of the cliffs. In some places
the road was only 2 feet wide and we had a sheer drop of 2,000

BRITISH TNFLITENCK IN SIKKIM

feet below us. It was a very exciting journey, as my mule
would insist on walking along the extreme edge of the road on
the very brink of nothingness. In summer the road is fre¬
quently washed away, and in winter the path is completely
blocked by snow, so that spring and autumn are the only times
one can count oi getting through. Even in September I found
theh'oad in a very bac^^state and saw numerous Nepalese coolies
busy repairing it.

Gantok lies 6,000 feet above sea-level. The next day brought
us to Karponang, at an altitude of 9,500 feet; the day after to
Changu, with its beautiful lake, 12,600 feet above sea-level;
and early the following morning we came to the Natu Pass,
which at this point divides Sikkimese from Tibetan territory,
and which lies some 14,000 feet above the sea.

The last day the climb was so steep that it was impossible to
ride and the sharp ascent had to be made on foot. At such an
altitude climbing was terribly fatiguing, and to make matters
worse we began to suffer from mountain-sickness, a gruesome
exaggeration of the symptoms felt in sea-sickness. I was
reminded here of the story of the poor British soldier who took
part in the 1904 military expedition against Tibet, and who
remarked on the way up that he had always heard that Tibet
was a tableland, and that if so, the road up to it must constitute
one of its legs.

Very bleak and forlorn is the Natu Pass. In the winter it
is oftimes covered by thirty feet of snow, and it seems to be a
central area for great winds and thunderstorms. Nevertheless,
the view gained from the top was worth all the trouble, the
pain, and the fatigue of the ascent. In the distance we could
see the snowy cone of the sacred mountain of Clitimolhari, at
the base of which we knew the real Tibetan plateau started.
Immediately below us was the Cliumbi Valley, the curious
outpost of the Tibetan Empire, which only at this point stretches
south of the Himalayan ranges.

We had, first of all, to make our way down into the thickly-
populated valley in order that later we might work our way up
its sides until we came to the barren tableland of Tibet proper.

The descent proved nearly as difficult as the ascent. To make
things easier, the steeper portions of the road, if it could be
dignified by this name, wound round and round in a singularly

36 TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

sinuous fashion, for even a mule cannot maintain his hold
when his tail is vertical over his head. Despite the convenience
of this winding path, there are a great many casualties every
year among the mule caravans which make their way ov.er the
passes.

It was September, and no snow had fallen rince the preced¬
ing winter, but here and there we came Across great patches of
snow which even the fierce summer sun had not been able to
melt away. ^

At last, however, we came to the bottom of the valley, and
I was able to see something of its picturesque villages and their
inhabitants. In many respects the Chumbi Valley is quite
unique and is unlike any other part of Tibet. A narrow valley
on the south side of the Himalayas, it forms a wedge of Tibetan
territory lying between the states of Sikkim and Bhutan. Like
these latter countries, and unlike the barren plains of Tibet
proper, the sides of its hills are covered with trees, and it receives
a very heavy annual rainfall, something which is entirely
unknown on the Tibetan plateau.

Owing to the severity of its climate, the only crop which true
Tibet can grow is barley. In Sikkim, on the other hand, the
staple crop is rice, hence its Tibetan name of Drenjong, or the
Rice Country. In the Chumbi Valley the main crop is wheat,
and consequently it gets the Tibetan appelation of Tromo, or
Wheat Country.

EthnologicaUy, as well as geographically, Chumbi is quite
distinct from Tibet, for though the Chumbi people, in common
with the Bhutanese and Sikkimese, are of Tibetan origin, they
have a dialect and many customs entirely their own.

They have the deserved reputation of being the most beauti¬
ful of all the peoples of Tibetan stock, and many of the young
men and women I passed were really remarkably handsome.
Unlike the true Tibetans, with whom filthiness is a virtue
esteemed by the gods, the Chumbi people are occasionally
known to wash themselves.

I was particularly interested in the Chumbi Valley, because
it is only by an accident that to-day it does not form part of
the British dominions.

After the success of the Younghusband expedition in 1904,
it was arranged that Tibet should pay reparations to the extent

BRITISH INFLUENCE IN SIKKIM 37

of Rupees 7,500,000 (or £500,000) to the British Government.
And pending the full payment of the amount, the Chumbi
Valley was to remain in the hands of the British Government.
It wa§ originally agreed that this sum was to be paid in seventy-
five annual instalments, which meant that England would have
a seventy-five-5"ear lease on the Chumbi Valley, equivalent
practically to annexation; but things were destined to turn
out otherwise.

In the firsi place the Liberals came into power in England,
and in a burst of anti-imperialism voluntarily reduced the
reparations claim to one-third of the original amount.
Secondly, China, anxious to get rid of British occupation every-
,where in Tibet, came forward and arranged to pay the whole
sum immediately on behalf of Tibet. This was eventually
agreed to, and so the British occupation of Chumbi came to an
end, though the Indian Government reserved the right to keep
a Trade Agent there, and to station a small body of Indian
soldiers to act as his bodyguard ; but the administration of the
district was handed back to the Tibetan officials.

The British agency is placed in the village of Yatung (pro¬
perly New Yatung), which the Tibetans called Sashima. I
reached this place that same afternoon.

Immediately on arrival at the village, I saw a house with a
Union Jack flying over it, and knowing this to be the British
Agency, I at once set off to make an official visit. I must
confess that I went there with a certain feeling of undeserved
shame.

In order to protect myself from the bitter morning cold of
the Passes, I had put on an airman’s helmet, which completely
covered all of my face except my nose. In this very high
rarefied atmosphere any portion of the body exposed to the
sun becomes terribly sunburned, in spite of the intense cold,
and so when I pulled off my mask before making my visit I
found that my face as a whole had retained its pallor, while
my nose was a most fiery red. I looked indeed so like a con¬
firmed toper, that I determined to make a firm display of
teetotal principles immediately on meeting the British
agent.

My meeting with the Trade Agent turned out to be un¬
expectedly pleasant and informal. The term Trade Agent is

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

somewhat misleading. His duties are exactly those of a consul,
but he is given his title because he is appointed by the India
Office and not by the Foreign Office.

The present occupant of the post is a most charming Eurasian
by the name of MacDonald. His father was a Scotch tea-
planter near Darjeeling. His mother was a 'Sikkimese. His
wife is a Nepalese, while one of his daughters married an
Englishman, so that his family can be considered truly cos¬
mopolitan. His mother’s language being but a~ variation of
Tibetan, he speaks that language with great fluency, which
makes him an ideal figure for his post—the intermediary
between the Tibetans and the Indian Government, though it
it is interesting to note that, because of his Scotch blood, and -
in spite of his personal friendship with the Dalai Lama, the
supreme ruler of Tibet, he also is not allowed to go outside of
the so-called trade-route, the narrow strip of land that connects
Yatung with the city of Gyangtse, still farther in the interior.
Even to him, apart from the two towns of Gyangtse and
Yatung and the direct road which runs between them, Tibet
is the Forbidden Land.

There was a rest-house at my disposal at Yatung, but Mr.
MacDonald very hospitably insisted upon my staying with him
until my main party should arrive from Darjeeling, and in the
course of many long conversations with him I secured much
useful information.

The next day brought a little excitement in the arrival of
Major F. M. Bailey, the Political Officer in Gantok, who has also
complete charge of diplomatic negotiations with the .states of
Bhutan and Tibet.

The British Trade Agent may be called tlic Con.sul, or
even the Consul-General, while the Political Officer is the
Ambassador, save that he is not allowed to visit Lhasa, the
capital of the country to which he is Great Britain’s diplo¬
matic representative.

In the old days there was an equal ban upon hi.s visiting the
little kingdom of Bhutan, but this is gradually being lifted,
owing to some very astute diplomatic moves. The Bhutanese
were to the surrounding peoples what the Scots robber barons
were to the English at one time. No neighbouring district was
free from a raid, and they spread terror and desolation wherever

BRITISH INFLUENCE IN SIKKIM

they went. During the last century they gravely mistreated a
British envoy and the invasion of British India by some of their
marauding bands forced the Indian Government to take action
and ^ize a goodly portion of Bhutanese territoiy, which is now
^ known as British Bhutan. As a sort of rent, however, a yearly
sup of money paid to the Bhutanese Government on condi-
tion that it keeps its subjects in order.

Trouble continued for some time after owing to the weakness
of the Central Bhutanese Government. There were two
Kings'' of Bhutan . one was the Dharmaraja, or spiritual
overlord, and the other was the secular head ; but neither
possessed any efficient control over the Pdniop, or district
^governors, who were hereditary, semi-independent barons
It was obvious, therefore, that a change in policy was neces¬
sary. In 1904 one of these magnates, the Tongsa Ponlop, had
become the most influential person in Bhutan. lie rendered
very valuable diplomatic assistance to the Yoimghusband
expedition while in Tibet, and largely on the advice of Mr.
White, the previously-mentioned Political Officer in Sikkim at
that time, not only was the Tongsa Ponlop made a K.C.I.E.,
but the Indian Government decided to give moral backing
enough to allow him to declare himself the first hereditary
Maharaja, or King of Bhutan, This change was duly made,
and under the new ruler’s strong hands Bhutan has been welded
into a co-ordinated and centralized state.

The new ruler did not forget his gratitude, and though
Bhutan has remained closed to the ordinary Englishman, the
Political Officer in Sikkim has, on several occasions, made a
state visit to the capital of Bhutan. Major Bailey was just
returning from one such visit. On this occasion he was
accompanied by his wife, and by his mother-in-law, Lady
Cozens-Hardy. They seem to have had a very interesting
journey.

The next day I paid an official visit to the Baileys, and they
were kind enough to invite me to Iiincb. Later events were
to bring me into very violent political conflict with Major
Bailey, but personally our relationships were always of
a very friendly character, and certainly he is a most
interesting and capable man: a great sportsman and a
traveller. In the past he has taken several secret journeys

40 TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

through Tibet, though he only got to Lhasa in company
with the Younghusband Expedition,

He had only recently secured the post of Political Officer, and
I was much interested to learn from him something of his
policy towards Tibet, as in his hands lies, to a large extent, the
future relations between India and Tibet. Erom a personal
point of view this presents a very great Contrast to that of his
predecessor, Sir Charles Bell, and well illustrates two different
ways of handling Orientals. Sir Charles Bell aimed not at
overaweing the Tibetans, but at securing their close sympathy
and friendship. In order to do this he thought it necessary to
conform to certain aspects of prejudice and superstition. Thus,
for example, he did not either fish or shoot. He abstained from
tobacco, as the Tibetans regard the use of tobacco with horror.'
When in contact with Tibetans he abstained from eating fish
and chicken, as the Tibetan regard these foods as unclean.
This extraordinary regard for native susceptibilities is not
always successful, but in the case of Sir Charles it seems to have
worked wonders, and I was later to find that many Tibetan
officials have an unusual affection for him.

Major Bailey has followed in the more ordinary lines of
British administrators, who believe it inconsistent with the
maintenance of dignity to pander too much to native ideas, but
certainly his policy has not decreased British prestige in this
part of the world. But I believe that there is no great love
lost between the past and present Political Officers, and as
Mr. MacDonald, the Trade Agent, and nominally Major
Bailey’s subordinate, is a protege of Sir Charles Bell, the relation
between the Political Officer and the Trade Agent has some¬
times an interesting side.

A day or two later my main party arrived in Yatung, and
shortly after Major Bailey and his party returned to Gantok,
but not until he had given us final and rather unexpected orders.
As previously stated, he has authority to grant special passes
permitting Europeans to go on to Gyangtsc, several miles
farther into the interior, and these he handed to us, but only
after extracting from each of us a solemn promise that we
should not depart from the main, direct route to Gyangtsd, and
further that, in the event of the Tibetans refusing us pcrmis.sion
to go farther, we would return immediately to India. This was

BRITISH INFLUENCE IN SIKKIM

a serious blow to the scheme which I had already in mind of
going on in disguise from Gyangtse in case we were refused
permission to go on to Lhasa, but equally vexatious was the
promise we were forced to make that, even if we could extract
^permission from the Tibetan officials to go on to the Forbidden
City, we should leave our cinematograph camera behind at
Gyangtse. For scieiitific purposes we had very strongly
wanted to get a living record of Lhasa life, but we were
completely ip the Political Officer’s power, and had to sign
the necessary guarantee.

CHAPTER IV,

ON THE TRADE-ROUTE

We were now in a position to move on, but before doing so
our reunited party decided to pay an official visit of courtesy
to the Tibetan Depon, or General, who w'as the chief official of.
the Chumbi Valley, and who was placed there to carry on any
necessary negotiations with the Britisli Trade Agent.

We rode down the valley for a bit and soon found ourselves
in front of his house. It was a substantial mansion of typically
Tibetan design, being built around a courtyard. Its walls were
of stone and were four or five feet thick. The door only was of
wood, and was painted in gaudy Chinese design.

Entering the courtyard, we ascended to the second story,
which was the residential part, and met there the Depon, who
proved to be a most beguiling old man, trained in the school of
Chinese diplomacy. He assured us that since we had come to
Tibet its desert wastes would bloom with lotus-flowers, and
while flattering us in this unctuous fashion was concocting a
letter in his mind which, as soon as wc had left, he secretly wrote
to the Lhasa Government advising them to have nothing to do
with us. Nevertheless, wc got an excellent and free lunch out
of him.

Returning that evening to Yatung, we found that a
Bhutanese chieftainess had arrived with three of her husbands
—all people of Tibetan stock practise polyandry, of which more
hereafter. They were on a visit to Mr MacDonald, having been
invited to attend the wedding of his daughter and arrived
exactly a month too late—-a typically Oriental way of keeping
an appointment.

I noticed the husbands were very meek and tamc-looking,
and I heard that the doughty dame had the reputation of
being something of a bully.

ON THE TRADE-ROUTE

Both men and women in Bhutan wear very short dresses, so
that the chieftainess exposed to sight a vast quantity of leg,
but seemed not in the least discomposed about it.

In contrast to the elaborate head-dresses of the women in
"^Tibet proper, the Bhutcinese women wear their hair bobbed,
and it was rcalfy comic to see so modern a European custom
on so primitive a woman. It was obvious that she was not
only wealthy but strong, for she wore around her neck a great
necklace of coral, which weighed more than hfteen pounds.
Her conversational abilities were limited, and her favourite
amusement was chewing betel, which she spat out with great
gusto upon some of Mr. MacDonald's fine carpets. Her aim
lovas remarkable, and reminded me of the performance of certain
Kentucky colonels with chewing tobacco.

She was very courageous generally, but very much afraid of
dogs On one occasion we were out in the garden and a puppy
ran up and barked. The Bhutanese chieftainess gave one
shriek and ran for protection—not to one of her husbands, but
to Mr. Harcourt, the cinematographer, the youngest and hand¬
somest member of our party. She clung so desperately that
all the breath was squeezed out of him before I had time to
pick the puppy up and put it in its kciincL

After this episode we began to fear that Mr. Harcourt would
be kidnapped and added to the lady’s '' harem,” and so we
decided, witliout fail, to leave the next day on the road for
Gyangise.

Shortly after leaving Yatung, and while still following the
narrow ravine which leads from the Chumbi Valley to the
Tibetan plateau, we came to the great Chumbi Monastery, well
known on account of its Icarm^d abbot, and also because of the
famous oracle, or propluT, who is housed therein.

I was shown all over the monastery, and then, with two of
our party, had lunch with the abbot, and wc had a high time
talking over fine points of Ihiddliist theology The old man,
though educated at the great Traslulhumpo Monastery at
Shigatse, was born in Mongolia, and so I was able to win his
affection by talking to him in his native tongue, which he had
not heard for many years.

Our whole party then assembled to see the oracle. Like the
late 0 . Henry, I am not superstitious in that 1 refuse to believe

44 TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

in black cats, palmistry, or the weather forecasts in the news¬
papers ; but certainly our prophet friend turned out to be very
interesting.

Although at present the most famous, he is not the. only
oracle which Tibet possesses. Formerly there was m Lhasa-^
itself an oracle renowned for his prophecies, bCit in the course
of a long life he made one mistake. Af the beginning of the
Younghusband Expedition—the Tibetans dignify it with the
title of the war between India and Tibet—he foretold that
Tibet would be successful and drive the barbarians away.
After the final defeat of the Tibetans and the flight of the
Dalai Lama, he went the way of all false prophets, and had
his head removed from his shoulders, since when he has^
ceased to prophesy.

I observed the Chumbi oracle very closely, and found that
his methods correspond in general to those used by mediums
in the West. He goes into an ecstatic trance, frequently
accompanied by epileptic symptoms, and while thus obsessed
delivers semi-coherent words which foretell what is to happen.
Generally, like the Delphic oracle of old, his prophecies arc
delightfully vague, and can be made to fit the event however
it may turn out; but it is remarkable that half-way through
the great world war he foretold the exact year and month in
which hostilities would cease.

Not long after leaving the monastery we came to the village
of Gautsa, the last village of the Chumbi Valley. Here we
bade good-bye to the trees. Hereafter we were to live on the
desolate “ Roof of the World.” The next day we emerged
from the ravine-valley formation, and found ourselves on the
great Tibetan tableland—broad, treeless, plantless plains
bordered by rippling, even hills; hills, however, which were
18,000 to 20,000 feet above sea-level.

Continuing along the plateau for some hours, we at last
came in sight of Pari Castle, situated in the centre of the great
Pari Plain, with Chumolhari, the sacred mountain, looming in
the background.

On reaching the town of Pari, the first thing that we noticed
was a tiny sacred island in the middle of a frozen lake. Hereon
were erected prayer-flags which, as they fluttered in the breeze,
wiped out the sins of man, according to Tibetan belief; and

riu: ORACIl' ()l HBLl
With his servants *ind as he is normally

ON THE TRADE-ROUTE

here morning and evening was burned incense, the sweet odour
of which appeased the dark demons of the night«

Behind the island of prayer, and protected by it, is the great
castle ^of Pari, tlie giant outpost fortress guarding this part of
the Tibetan frontier. Armed as we were with special passes
permitting us to^go as far as Gyangtse, the local officials were
unable to turn us bacF, and so made the most of a bad job by
inviting us to a State luncheon, which lasted for four hours.
Most of the^food was in Chinese and not in Tibetan style
(Chinese cooking is in Tibet what PTench cooking is in
England and America), but we were forced to consume enor¬
mous quantities of Tibetan tea.

I was very much amused by one incident. The use of
tobacco is very strictly prohibited m Tibet. The smoking of
tobacco is regarded by Tibetans in very much the same way
as is the smoking of opium in Europe (it is curious that the
Chinese never taught the Tibetans to smoke opium), but one
of the two governors of the castle had contracted a great liking
for cheap English cigarettes, two or three of which he smoked
while we were there. During the lunch he sidled up io me and
in a whisper implored me to say nothing about his smoking in
Lhasa, because if it were known he would inevitably be dis¬
missed and disgraced.

After lunch was over we ascended to the roof of the castle
and gained a panoramic view of the town of Pari, which has the
well-earned reputation of being the filthiest town in the world.
Owing to the fact that refuse has been continually thrown into
the streets, these streets are now nearly on a level with the roofs
of the houses, which look as if they were built underground.
Pari is, in fact, buried in its own filth. Picturesque it certainly
is, however, for on every roof there flutters a prayer-flag or
two, and on many of them are piled heaps of barley-straw and
yak-dung.

On the outskirts of the town could be seen fields sown
with barley, but being nearly 15,000 feet above sea-level, and
exposed to the untempered influence of the Himalayan cold,
this barley very seldom ripens, and its stalks can only be used
as animal fodder. No other cultivation is possible, so that
the local inhabitants must get their living from their flocks,
and as carriers on the great caravan-route between Lhasa and

TO LHASA IN DTSGITTSE

Kalimpong Most of the precious wool which I'ibet sends
down to India conics thiongh Pan
While continuing our march the ne\t day, we were very
much struck by the great beauty of the neighbouring
mountain, Chumolhari This peak is 24 ,000 feet high, and itjj
steep sides and proudly-precipitous glaciers reader it one of the
most difficult mountains in the world t# ascend The nathral
grandeur of Chumolhari has impiessccl itself even upon the
stolid Tibetan, and he worships tiie mountain as a goddess, as
the fair lady of the everlasting snows, and fm its sides they
believe dwell the gnomes, the demons, and the goblins who
play such an important part in Tibetan folk-lore

For the most part our way lay along the gn-at liang desolate
plains, occasionally inlcrscctcd by mountains. Sometimes
the plain narrowed down lo a valley between such mountain
ranges Properly .speaking, there are no roads in Tiliet. The
officials need all the tax-money for their own piivafe icipiire-
ments, and have none to spend on public woiks ; but thougli
Tibet excludes outsiders, the Tibetans arc great travillius insuh'
of their own country, and the great caravans going to and fro
in Tibet have worn out for themselves a settled routis In
some places the ground is loo .sandy for the yaks or mules to
leave any permanent tracks, but in otlier places, where the
ground consists of mud or clay, one secs huge nils or tracks
through which the animals have picked their way for ages
Wheeled traffic is completely unknown. The only carl wliich
the country possesses is used to transport an idol inside the
city of Lhasa, and this has to be pulled by men.

We were travelling slowly, a.s we wished to sec something of
the country, and so en route we were overtakem and passed by
Mr MacDonald, who was also going to (lyangtse to look after
us while we were there. Formerly there was also a Diitish
Trade Agent at Gyangtse, but for some time jiast Mr.
MacDonald has been in charge of lioth ]»sts, so that freciuenlly
he has to go from one place to the other.

A day or two later “ Toby,” my lama secretary, became very
ill. We thought it was pneumonia, which in Tibet, owing to
the rarefied atmosphere, is always nearly fatal, so we imaginf'd
we were in for a bad time. The next clay lie grew wor.se, and
as the main party could not delay, they went on, leaving me

ON THE TRADE-ROUTE

and Lhaten behind to nurse Toby, and, if necessary, to bury
him.

There was nothing we could do except to feed him with cod-
liver oil and malt and wait for the crisis. One afternoon, a
couple *of days later, while Toby was asleep, I got out some of
my Tibetan book%—all books m Tibet are of a religious charac-
ter-^and began chaiitiBg from them, as I thought it was the
best way to continue with my Tibetan studies. This continued
some two hours, and by a curious coincidence, when Toby awoke,
we found the Crisis had passed and that he was much better.
By the natives the benefit of the cod-hver oil was forgotten,
and the '' cure was attributed to my religious incantations,
and I was put down as a holy man,'' a reputation that was
later to stand me m good stead.

A day or two later we were able to go on again, and by
travelling double stages we soon caught up with our main party.
Our long journey to Gyangtse was broken each evening by our
stay in one of the official rest-houses, erected at the order of
the Indian Government, in order to establish a line of communi¬
cation between their two outposts in Yatung and Gyangtsi\
and available for strategic purposes in case of the renewed
outbreak of hostilities. At each camp we spent some time
in trying to gain the friendship and confidence of the natives.
Throughout this part of Tibet, in this narrow six-mile strip
reaching to Gyangtse, they had become inured to foreign
barbarians, but were apt to be sullen. We found, however,
that music has indeed charms to win the savage breast. With
us we had a small portable gramophone, and the villagers
crowded around to hear the weird noises that came out of the
box. In fact, after the ice had been broken, they even entered
into a competition to see who would be the first to learn the
tango and the fox-trot and the shimmy.

It was now the autumn season, and as we passed through
occasional straggling villages we could see the peasants hard
at work harvesting their crops. Tibet is far too bleak and
cold to be an agricultural country, and the one thing that can
be grown in any quantity is barley, an unusually hardy plant.
The threshing was carried on by the process which has come
down from time immemorial, and consisted of the whole family
walking on the barley stalks and stamping out the grain.

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

Round and round they went, wife, husbands, and children,
aided by the slow-moving Tibetan cattle, a cross between
Indian cattle and the indigenous yak of Tibet.

On many occasions, as we went along the road, we parsed by
some shrine or sacred image. One of these, the famous Rfd
Idol, as it is called, is quite imposing, and I noticed, with
particular interest, the heap of tiny stones in front of it.' As
Tibet has no flowers to present to the idols, the Tibetan
peasants will carry pebbles and heap them up before the image
—certainly a very curious way of showing their respect.
Beyond is the Red Idol Gorge, named after the image, and here
I caused my servants a great deal of uneasiness by galloping
on ahead of our party and alone. The gorge is noted for its
bandits and highwaymen, and Tibetans will only go through
it in large parties. As I passed through I noticed one group of
horsemen who did indeed look somewhat suspicious, but instead
of trying to avoid them, I made straight for them, and to my
surprise they immediately turned tail and scampered away.

Two days later we came to a little village where the narrow
valley widened out into a plain once more, and we could see
ahead of us in the distance the town of Gyangtse, our immediate
goal.

CHAPTER V

gTaNGTSE . A BRITISH OUTPOST

Gyangtse is some 147 miles inside the frontier. It is the
third largest city in Tibet, and is the seat of an important
administrative district. In common with other such places,
the town itself is dominated and rendered almost insignificant
by the great stone castle, which is on the top of the hill m the
very centre of the plain. The castle is one of the most imposing
anywhere in Tibet, and certainly deserves to rank on a par with
any of the mediaeval European castles, although it has only
recently been rebuilt.

A mile and a half away from the castle the Indian Govern¬
ment has erected a strongly-fortified block-house, where are
housed the British Trade Agent and his escort of soldiers It
is necessary to keep this armed escort here in order to see that
no attempt be made on the life of the British agent by any of
the fanatical peasantry.

We found Mr. MacDonald, the agent, waiting for us, and he
gave us a warm welcome and lunch. The fort is connected by
telegraph-wires with Yatiuig and Kalimpong, so that it is
possible for the agent to communicate at once to the Indian
Government any event of especial importance which may take
place in Tibet, though communications are much handicapped
by the fact that no British representative is allowed to reside
in Shigatse or Lhasa, or anywhere within the interior, and the
agent has to rely very largely upon the vague rumours which
find their way down to Gyangtse.

The establishment of the British agency and fort here is the
direct result of the Younghusband expedition, which was of
such far-reaching importance that just a word must be said
concerning it.

50 TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

Owing to the close proximity of Tibet and India, the British-
Indian Government tried for many years to enter into diplo¬
matic negotiations with the Tibetan hierarchy. As far back as
1774, Warren Hastings, the first and greatest of the Governor-
Generals of India, sent a diplomatic mission to the 'trasM
Lama in Shigatse, under George Bogle, and followed this up by
another mission in 1783 under Turner. • Neither of these Rad
any permanent effect, and neither of them got to Lhasa.
Gradually Tibet became more rigid in her isola^on, and the
relations between India and Tibet grew worse and worse. This
was accentuated by various boundary disputes, and by the
question as to which country was to have paramount influence
in Sikkim.

A final peaceful settlement was rendered difficult because the
Tibetan officials refused even to negotiate : special letters which
were sent by the Viceroy of India to the Dalai Lama, and
couched in the most complimentary terms, were returned
unopened. In 1903 the British sent a special commission under
Younghusband to Kampa Dzong, just inside the Tibetan fron¬
tier, and asked the Tibetan Government to send down represen¬
tatives with whom they could negotiate. This request was
ignored, and as at the same time the Dalai Lama was coquetting
with Russia, it was decided to send an armed expedition into
Tibet in support of Colonel Younghusband’s mission, to see
that no harm befell the members of this mission as they
continued on into the interior in order to negotiate a treaty of
peace with the Tibetan Government.

Instead of marching forward from Kampa Dzong, it was
decided that the expedition should move forward into Tibet
along the very same line which we had followed. Skirmishes
took place between the Tibetans and the British forces at Guru,
and one or two other places between Pari and Gyangts^, but
the most serious engagement took place in Gyangts6 itself,
where the Tibetans delivered a serious attack and heavy fighting
took place, in which, in the end, the Tibetans were worsted.

For some extraordinary reason, the Tibetans still refused
to enter into serious negotiations, and it was necessary for the
mission to continue its march from Gyangts^ to Lhasa, at
which city it arrived in August 1904, only to find that
diplomatic negotiations were still difficult, as the Dalai

GYANGTSE: A BRITISH OUTPOST

Lama, the Supreme Pontiff, and many of his important
officers, had fled.

It was obviously impossible to pursue the Dalai Lama and
bring ^Mm back, and the rapid approach of winter made it
i^cessary for the British troops to return to India as soon as
possible. After ‘several weeks of delay, Colonel (now Sir
Francis) Younghusbarfd eventually got the leading people in
Lhasa together and forced them to sign a treaty of peace.

The terms pf this were very simple. It provided principally
for the opening-up of trade centres at Yatung and Gyangtse,
and also in Gartok in the extreme west of Tibet, to which
British officials were to be appointed, and to which British
subjects approved by the Indian Government might travel.

Fearing Russian and other encroachment, it was stipulated
that Tibet should not sell or lease any of her territory or
resources to any foreign Power. The Indian Government was
anxious to secure the right to keep a diplomatic representative
in Lhasa, but the Tibetans raised such a storm of protest
against this suggestion that it was waived, but only on the
condition that no other representatives or agents of any
foreign Power should be admitted to Tibet.

Immediately after the signing of the treaty the Young-
husband Expedition returned, and the close isolation of
Tibet, apart from three places specifically mentioned in the
treaty, continued.

As we were anxious to go farther into the interior, and even to
be accorded permission to go on to the capital itself, it was neces¬
sary for us to apply for special grace on the part of the Tibetan
officials. Sooner or later the matter would be referred to Lhasa
for final decision, but it was necessary to carry on negotiations
with the officials resident in Gyangtsd, and in order to secure
their recommendation we were advised to accompany our
request with a little personal keepsakein token of our
regard.

Mr. MacDonald was kind enough to advise us which persons
were the proper people to approach. In the first place* we
climbed up to the castle and paid a ceremonial visit to the
governors there; but even more importance was placed on a
State call upon the Kenchung, who is generally called the
Tibetan Trade Agent, as it is his duty to negotiate with the

52 TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

British Trade Agent in Gyangtse. The old Dep 5 n in the
Chumbi Valley is more of a consul, and the Kenchung may be
termed the Tibetan Ambassador to Great Britain, although his
ambassadorship keeps him inside of his own country. ^

He is only three-fourths Tibetan, having Chinese blood in hig
veins, and several years' residence in China ha^ taught him how
to conduct negotiations in the wiliest of ’^ays. I was surprised
to find that, though he spoke Chinese fluently, he was unable
to read or write a word of it. Later I discovered that this is
true of most of the Tibetans who claim to have a knowledge of
Chinese. There are quite a number of such people, owing to
the long period of Chinese domination in Tibet, but they are
nearly all confined to the official classes.

One of the few serious mistakes which Kipling made in his
Ktm, that most fascinating of all books, is to suppose that the
Tibetan lamas, or priests, are conversant with Chinese, or
quote from it for ecclesiastical purposes. In Tibet I never met
a single priest who had any knowledge of literary Chinese—
not even of the Chinese Buddhistic literature.

In the old days the Kenchung must have spoken Chinese
very fluently, but I found that he was getting rusty, as he
had not used it for ten years. As is generally known, until
1912 Tibet had to acknowledge the suzerainty of China. Two
Chinese Ambans, or official residents, were kept in Lhasa, and
numerous petty officials and soldiers weie scattered throughout
the country. There had long been a strong nationalist move¬
ment in Tibet, and eventually, taking advantage of the Chinese
revolution of 1911, the Tibetans were able to overcome their
Chinese masters. Many of them were killed, and the remainder
were sent back to their native country. Tibet declared herself
absolutely independent, and refused even to have Chinese
diplomatic representatives in Lhasa. This has greatly simpli¬
fied British negotiations with Tibet, as in the old days one never
knew whether to communicate direct with the Lhasa officials or
with the Chinese overlords, and this dual sway was made the
excuse for much evasion of treaty conditions.

The Kenchung received us with a great deal of state, and
after hearing our desires and requests, informed us that he was
powerless to give or refuse permission to go on, but that he
would send by courier to Lhasa a communication in which be

GYANGTSE: A BRITISH OUTPOST

would state our whole case. Pending the ultimate decision, we
were not to advance a step farther into Tibetan territory ; but
we had his permission to wander about the city as much as we
pleased.

- We were very glad to avail ourselves of his invitation. The
pefiod of waiting continued much longer than we had antici¬
pated, and, in fact, extended over a period of nearly two
months ; but so busy were we adding to our experiences that
the time pafcsed very quickly. Official visits to various local
notabilities in an attempt to ingratiate ourselves with the
natives took up a good deal of this time, but in addition
many hours were spent in casual wanderings through the
busy market-place and the teeming, irregular streets of
the city.

The market-place and a large portion of the residential section
of the city belongs to the monastery built on the slope of the hill
which arises just behind the town. This monastery, needless
to say, was visited by us on several occasions.

As monasteries go inside of Tibet, the Gyangtsc establish¬
ment is not particularly large, as it has only a thousand monks
within its walls, but historically it is both famous and impor¬
tant. The monks have at their disposal some twenty build¬
ings. Of these the most important is the Du-Kang or the great
assembly-hall, in which are placed the principal images. It is
here that every day all the monks gather together to read their
liturgy and perform their religious ceremonies.

On either side of the great doorway are two great images,
representing in all the four great guardian deities of the four
quarters of the world. The Tibetans believe that, by placing
these fearsome images at the entrance-hall, no evil spirit can
enter into the temple itself to disturb the pious monks at their
prayers within.

The images inside the temple were equally interesting, some
of them being remarkably well made. The principal image
was that of the historical Buddha, the Indian sage who walked
the earth preaching the doctrine of emancipation from the
wheel of life more than two thousand years ago. Strangely
enough, such images are rare in Tibet, as the Tibetan prefers
to worship at the shrine of some purely mythological deity, one
of the so-called non-human, or Dhyani, Buddhas.

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

Another image showing fine craftmanship was that of the
Bodhisattva Maitreya. A Bodhisattva is a being who in some
near future birth will gain the crown of Bnddhahood, or supreme
enlightenment. Maitreya, the compassionate, is the-" next
Buddha destined to be born in the world, and is adored by
nearly every sort of Buddhist. He is^ frequently portrayed
almost as a European. I have sometimes seen representa¬
tions of him with white skin and blue eyes, and in nearly all
cases his image is sitting on a chair in European st3/ie as opposed
to the Oriental cross-legged attitude assumed by the other
Tibetan deities.

What, however, proved most entertaining was a small chapel
on the third story—the hall of the abbots, with numerous
images representing the past bishops or archbishops of the
Gyangtse temple. The curious mitres which some of them wore
were particularly striking, as were also the high, and even
aquiline, noses of some of the departed worthies, a feature in
such great contrast to the broad, flat noses of the modern
Tibetan peasant.

Immediately to the left of the Du-Kang, or the assembly-hall,
is a great gilded shrine called by the Tibetans a chorten, and
popularly called the Golden Pagoda. This is the object of
pilgrimage on the part of the peasantry for hundreds of miles
around.

Let into the walls of the lower part of the pagoda were a
number of revolving barrels. These were the famous Tibetan
prayer-wheels. It is the duty of every man, as he passes along,
to stop and twist these wheels, causing them to revolve. By
this exercise, it is believed, a man acquires an enormous amount
of merit, and by his pious efforts he is ridded of all his sins.
Certainly, in Tibet, salvation from sins seems extraordinarily
easy, and it is, I think, a facility which is greatly needed by its
inhabitants.

From the bottom of the great shrine we could look up the
hill and see numerous other monastic buildings. At the top
of the slope was the great storehouse where is kept a huge
supply of dried yak's-meat and barley-flour for the use
of the monks during winter. A little below it was the
residence of the Lama Trodampa, or the abbot of the whole
monastery.

GYANGTSE. A BRITISH OUTPOST

I put on the whole ecclesiastical outfit given me by the great
Buddhist cathedral of Kyoto as a token of my honorary
Buddhist ordination, and paid the old lama a visit. He
received me with great courtesy. We had a long conversation,
jn the course of which he remarked that in order to understand
Tibetan Buddhism one required a knowledge of Sanskrit, the
classical language of India. By chance the little gift which I
had brought with me to present to him was a Buddhist book
in Sanskrit/, so after his statement I thought it a good chance
to give it to him, but I found that the old gentleman had been
“ bluffing,” because he understood not a word of it, in spite of
his exalted position.

This little misimderstanding did not militate against our
getting along together very well, and the abbot was kind enough
to let me have the use of the temple library, with its thousands
of valuable and long-forgotten manuscripts. These were
brought to our rest-house from time to time, and I was able
to make a number of interesting “ finds.” This made me feel
all the keener to get on to Lhasa, where, of course, the literary
material was much greater, and all of us waited from day to day
in anxious expectation of favourable news from the capital.

Alas! All of our hopes were suddenly blighted. One
morning we received a visit from the Kenchung, who informed
us that a definite answer had now been received from Lhasa,
and that in no circumstances would our party be permitted to
journey there. This was indeed a very sad blow to all our fond
expectations, and meant decisive and absolute failure. Anxious
to grasp at any straw that presented itself, we decided to make
one more desperate attempt to carry out part of our ideas.
We thought that possibly the Lhasa Government had been
affected in its decision by the comparatively large number of
Europeans in our party. Consequently, Knight, Fletcher, and
Harcourt returned immediately to India by the same way
which we had come, though they stopped en route to make a
closer survey of the environs of Mount Chumolhari, and
managed by their surveys to add many interesting details to
our geographical knowledge of the country.

Ellam and I remained in Gyangtsd a short time longer in
order to send in a further petition to the Lhasa authorities, ask¬
ing that they reconsider their decision and allow us to come to

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

the Forbidden City, or, failing this, that we be permitted to
visit Shigatse, the second largest city in Tibet, the seat of the
famous Trashi Lama, and the centre of an important ecclesias¬
tical organization. We further requested that, should.- both
these favours be denied, at least we be given permission to
remain for a few months in Gyangtse m order to continue pur
researches there. Another two weeks Drought us an answer
to this petition in.no uncertain terms.

All three requests were given a decisive refusal, and we were
peremptorily ordered to leave the country immediately. I was
very much put out by this curt refusal and the way it was
handed to us, and was anxious to start my attempt to reach
the Forbidden City in secret and in disguise immediately. I
had here numerous native friends and sympathizers who would
have aided me in my attempt. But I remembered my promise
given to Bailey that I should return to India in case of refusal,
and rather than break my word I decided to return to
Darjeeling with Ellam. So we turned back on our weary way ;
rendered all the more weary by the sense of failure and dis¬
appointment.

We crossed over the Jelap Pass into India at the end of
November just in time, for we met with a snowstorm which
continued for many days, and eventually stopped all traffic for
many weeks thereafter.

Once back in Darjeeling (we arrived there on December 9),
I was entirely free from my bond and began making active
steps for a new undertaking, for I was determined that, come
what might, I should make one more attempt to reach the
Sacred City of the Buddhas, if necessary even by stealth and
by disguise, and to trust to luck to help me through the dangers
of detection and possibly of violent treatment at the hands of
the religious fanatics in this land of seclusion.

CHAPTER VI

PREPARATIONS FOR THE NEW ATTEMPT

I WAS determined to keep to my promise no matter at what
cost, and so had come back to India before starting on my new
undertaking, but even during my long stay at Gyangtse, every
day I had been making special studies which would enable me
to undertake the new journey in disguise. By this time I was
so well known personally on the Yatung-Gyangtse road that
I definitely decided not to use this route again, so it was
necessary to learn something of the other roads and passes
leading from India into the interior of Tibet, and this knowledge
had to be secured very delicately, as the Tibetan authorities
were already suspicious of my movements. Consequently long
hours were wasted in casual conversation, in order that I might
slip in seemingly purposeless questions about other parts of the
country. Gradually my cipher notebook was filled with a huge
mass of miscellaneous information concerning towns, roads,
snowfall in passes, and the severity and laxity of various
officials in different parts of Tibet; but much was still lacking
that in order to carry out my designs it was desirable to
know.

As the journey would have to be done in disguise, with grave
danger of detection, it was necessary to train myself to act as a
Tibetan. The renewal of intensive study of colloquial Tibetan
since August had, of course, greatly aided my fluency in speak¬
ing. I could now converse for several hours on end with no
great difficulty, but this was far from being able to speak as a
native. More particularly, apart from orders to servants, all
my practice of language had been with my native secretary,
local officials, and other persons, who spoke what is known as
the '' elegant language.'" I decided to travel as a servant in

58 TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

order to attract less attention, so it became necessary to make
myself proficient in '' coolie talk/' Consequently, rather to
the scandal of the other members of the party, who as yet were
completely ignorant of my design, I made frequent exaises to
go to the kitchen and listen to the servants talking among
themselves, making careful note of their tones, their slan^ the
manner in which they spoke of their own and other masters,
and last, but not least, the exact way in which they squatted,
spat, quarrelled, and carried on flirtations with local dames
and damsels.

This was as far as I could go while I remained in Gyangtse,
but once I was back at Darjeeling, in India, I could go on with
active preparations. Up to this time I had kept the idea of a
journey in disguise entirely to myself, but immediately after
arriving in Darjeeling I revealed my plans to the four English
friends who had been my companions so far as Gyangtse.
This led to tremendous discussion, but in the end the proposi¬
tion was agreed to, and thereafter my companions gave me
enthusiastic support through all my difficulties.

At first it was proposed that I be accompanied by one of the
other members of the late mission, but eventually it was unani¬
mously agreed that I should attempt the task of getting to
Lhasa alone, inasmuch as I was the only one who could speak
Tibetan at all fluently. This meant that I was forced to
spend some time in learning from Harcourt the art of cinema¬
tography, as I was very anxious to" secure a film of the
Sacred City.

It took exactly a month to get everything in order. This
included the purchase of transport animals and the hire of
servants. A visit in secret to the city of Kalimpong enabled
me to secure three mules and three ponies. In Darjeeling
itself I engaged four servants whom I thought would be suit¬
able for my present purpose. These were, first, a native secre¬
tary, who was later to play the part of my master on my arrival
in Tibet. Owing to certain delinquencies in character, he
received from me the soubriquet of '' Satan.*' The second was
my '' bearer,** or personal servant, who had already accom¬
panied me to Gyangts6, and had proved his efficiency and
loyalty. The third was a syce, or groom, who was to have
charge of the animals. The fourth was a poor stunted, half-

PREPARATIONS FOR THE NEW ATTEMPT 59

witted boy, whom I called Diogenes, and who was to act as
“ odd man.”

All these were Sikkimese. Ethnologically speaking, Sikkim
is a province of Tibet, for the true Sikkimese are Tibetans
who have migrated in modern times to the south side of the
Himalayas. Their kinship is acknowledged by the Lhasa
authorities, so that they are allowed to go to the Sacred City
at will. Inasmuch as my servants were Sikkimese, and as the
Sikkimese dialect differs somewhat from that spoken round
Lhasa and Shigatse, I considered it safer to go myself as a
Sikkimese, rather than as an inhabitant of one of the Central
Provinces. Slight deficiencies in Tibetan etiquette and differ¬
ence in pronunciation would thus be explained by a story of
Sikkimese origin. One of my great difficulties in engaging
servants was the necessity of employing them under false
pretences. It was absolutely necessary to have all my plans
kept secret, as otherwise the Tibetans would certainly have
heard of the project, and everything would have been frus¬
trated. At the same time, I knew it was impossible to make a
secret departure from Darjeeling. A mysterious and sudden
disappearance would have excited suspicion immediately, and
a search would have been made for me. It is always useful
to make one’s secret preparations “ under the Hmelight.” I
therefore gave it out that I was going on a two months’ tour
through Sikkim ; exploring the unknown regions and climbing
some of the out-of-the-way mountains in order to carry on
geological work. This excuse would allow me to disappear for
several weeks on end without exciting comment. At the same
time it permitted me to test the calibre of my new servants.
If they were frightened at the idea of climbing 20,000-feet
high glaciers in mid-winter, it was obvious they would not
serve my purpose.

The question of equipment had to be finally considered.
All the camp kit of the ordinary explorer had necessarily to be
done without, but food, clothes, and materials for disguise had
to be purchased. Food-supplies were cut down to an absolute
minimum, since I intended to eat nothing but native food once
I was in Tibet, and even in Sikkim, through which once more
we would have to journey, and to rely entirely upon local
provender. As a sort of last resort, I packed away three tins of

6 o

TO LHASA m DISGUISE

Quaker Oats and five pounds of sugar. The sugar was a
luxury, my sole compromise with Hedonism, to be used along
with native food, as the Tibetans never employ it or any substi¬
tute, being one of the few people who manage to exist without
any form of sweets. The rolled oats was a necessary standby.
In the past I had been able to exist for a considerable per^d on
porridge alone when no other food was available, and I knew
that we would be in some danger of starvation should we be
caught in the passes by snowstorms and be uimble to go for¬
ward or to return.

The selection of clothes required a great deal of care. I had
already purchased, or been presented with, several lama cos¬
tumes and also costumes such as were worn by native officials,
but none of these would do in the present instance, as I had to
be clad in the poorest garb. In the end I secured three coolie
dresses, one new and specially made to order, and two old ones
which had already seen long service, as the possession of a whole
wardrobe of new clothes would have been certain to excite
suspicion.

Materials for disguise included hair-dye, a mixture of iodine
and walnut-juice to stain the skin, dark goggles, two lemons,
and a small bottle of glue to be used to camouflage the
colour of my eyes. The use of these last two articles will
be explained hereafter. No one outside the five Europeans
of our Gyangtse party had any inkling of what was being
done. To make surety doubly sure, Knight agreed to go out
into Sikkim on an independent tour in order to distract
attention from me. Ostensibly both of us were to make
by different roads for Pemayangtse, the largest monastery
in Sikkim.

In a quiet, unostentatious manner our small party took its
departure from Darjeeling on the loth of January. No one,
not even Knight, knew exactly the route I should take, though
I had already worked out the journey in great detail. I was
able to follow this plan almost without alteration, except for
several unforeseen stops en route, and slight deviations when
the road became vague, or detours were necessary for some
reason or other.

The rough outline on p. 6i will show, with greater clearness
than words, the line of march.

PREPARATIONS FOR THE NEW ATTEMPT 6i

I was anxious to see both Shigatse and Lhasa, the two great
cities ©f Tibet, but it obviously w’-ould be better to visit Shigatse
first, as I intended to reveal my identity on arriving in Lhasa,
after which I knew that further rambling about the country
wo^ld not be permitted.

The journey along the Pari-Gyangtse road being out of the
question, I decided to*take the more direct, though more
hazardous, route straight through the heart of Sikkim, march¬
ing due northward over the passes, entering Tibet proper near
Kampa Dzong; the path would continue north through the

IN DISGUISE

Tsang Province until Shigatse were reached, and just beyond it
the Brahmaputra River. After this, I had in mind to follow the
Brahmaputra River on its downward course to the east, until
we reached a point where we could again branch off to the
north and proceed straight to Lhasa. It was on this stretch
that I found eventually the marches could not proceed to plan,
as will be explained later on.

This is a little-known route occasionally used by petty
Tibetan traders in preference to the main Pari-Gyangts^-

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

Lhasa mad, but it is supposed to be closed in winter, as the pass,
18,000 feet high, or 4,000 feet higher than the Jelap-la, is as a
rule completely blocked by snow except during the short mid¬
summer period. Provided, however, that we could foi;ce our
way through this pass in the depth of winter, the official
closure of the road would prove of great advantage, because,
naturally, during this time the passes ^ould not be so strictly
watched.

For the first day or two my path would coincide with a road
leading to Pemayangts6 (Pamionchi), my ostensible goal, as I
had allowed it to be generally understood, which enabled me to
make a semi-public departure from Darjeeling. On the actual
day of my departure the usual irritating last-minute details
cropped up, so that we could not get away until nearly eleven
o'clock. Therefore I decided to go only as far as Manjitar, just
over the Sikkim frontier, and there rest for the remainder of
the day.

All sorts of people were hanging around, and I arranged with
Knight to have one of his servants sent after me with some
trifling object which I had left behind, so that, as I was leaving,
I might shout out to him to keep the article until we met in
Pemayangts6 some two weeks or so later. I heard afterwards
that this little bit of play-acting was the subject of gossip in the
bazaar and succeeded in side-tracking all suspicions as to my
real intentions.

The whole of the first day our road lay straight downhill, and
it was so steep that it was quite impossible to ride. In fact,
the freshly-fallen rain made it more of a slide than a walk,
Lhaten carried the cinematograph camera—always an awkward
load—and once fell very heavily. I was afraid that the appara¬
tus was damaged, but after the tightening of a screw or two all
seemed to be well. In the late afternoon we got to the bottom
of the mountain and arrived at a bridge crossing the Rangit
River, which marks the boundary between Sikkim and British
India. On the other side of the bridge was the town and fron¬
tier station of Manjitar, Half-way across the bridge we were
stopped and had to go through the troublesome business of
presenting passes. One of the police officials was particularly
anxious to know whether I had sent in my guarantee not to
attempt to get from Sikkim into Nepal, Bhutan, or Tibet, but

PREPARATIONS FOR THE NEW ATTEMPT 63

at this point I took refuge in pretended stolid ignorance of
Sikkimese and all other native tongues, and refused to under¬
stand a word. In the East, especially, ignorance is frequently
more valuable than wisdom, so “ ’Tis folly to be wise ” In the
end the official gave up the matter in despair. In this way I
escELped having to commit myself to anything. I noticed, how¬
ever, lhat.the police wer? much more vigilant than previously,
and heard that Major Bailey, the Political Officer in Sikkim,
was taking special precautions against any such attempt as
mine. Had I given a guarantee not to pass over the Sikkim
frontier into any other state, or had been forced to admit that I
had not entered into a guarantee, I should have landed myself
in a pretty kettle of fish. It would have meant that I should be
making my effort for nothing, for I should have had to renounce
my desire to get to Lhasa, or even Shigatse.

Glad I was to get away from this ominous frontier station,
and instead of resting in the village, I hastened my small cara¬
van through the place and beyond, camping that night in the
open, half a mile from any habitation, at a suitable spot from
where we were able to secure all necessary supplies. Besides
water, the daily requisites were wood for fuel, bamboo leaves
for animal fodder, milk for myself, and marwa beer for the ser¬
vants. The other food, such as meat, rice, eggs, and tea, we
carried in stock, and only replenished from time to time.
Generally speaking, in the inhabited parts of Sikkim all these
things are easily procurable, but on the present journey
Manjitar proved to be the only place where milk could be pur¬
chased, as nearly all the Sikkimese cows were affected by foot-
and-mouth disease, and were either dead or incapable of giving
milk.

During these early days in Sikkim our camp routine was
nearly always the same. First of all the tent was erected and
I ensconced therein. A place was also found inside for
“ Satan,” Lhaten and the other three servants sleeping outside
in the open. While the syce prepared the animals for the night,
Lhaten and the others prepared the evening meal. Our cooking
utensils consisted of two tin boilers, a frying-pan, and a teapot.
The teapot and one of the boilers were communal property, for
I ate the same rice and drank the same tea as the servants, save
that, in accordance with Oriental etiquette, I had always to

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

finish my share before the servants began theirs. The frying-
pan was used exclusively for the scrambling of my eggs—^my
diet at this stage consisted at all meals of only scrambled eggs
and rice. The remaining boiler was used to prepare the ser¬
vants’ stew—meat and greens finely chopped and then boiled
together. **

For some unknown reason I have*never been able to eat
either boiled or chopped meat with any pleasure, so I contented
myself with eggs ; but I had so accustomed mj^self to eating
with my fingers that even my eggs and rice I ate in Sikkimese
or Indian fashion, and had brought neither fork nor spoon along
with me in my meagre outfit.

Food having been finished, the marwa beer was prepared and
slowly drunk, to the accompaniment of the eternd chitter-
chatter of Eastern servants. I occasionally sucked at a marwa
pipe myself, though I preferred my milk, but always joined in
the conversation in order to improve my dialect, as only Sikki¬
mese was spoken. And then, after about two hours of this sort
of thing, to sleep.

To return to the day-by-day narrative: the morning of
January ii we started on another short journey, the seven-mile
ascent from Manj itar to N amtse (N amchi on the maps). Owing
to the precipitous nature of the road and our consequent snail’s
pace interspersed with halts, this took us five hours. As usual
there was a marked change in the temperature between early
morning and midday. We started muffled up in overocats, and
ended on the doubtful side of modesty. Half-way up the
climb we stopped at the village of Kyitam for tea and sugar-cane,
while “ Satan ” called on a friend to renew a row over the
payment of an old horse-deal. As usual the ” silent, unemo¬
tional ” Orientals managed to raise a terrific shindy, and the
heat of their arguments brought together the whole of the
villagers. The two combatants chased one another around
the bazaar, uttering bloodcurdling threats, but the affair
ended without bloodshed, for each one was too cowardly to risk
a blow.

When the entertainment thus provided had begun to pall
upon me, I jerked the two apart, and sent “ Satan ” on ahead.
Nothing was settled, of course, but then.the matter had already
rtin on for over three years, and undoubted settlement would

PREPARATIONS FOR THE NEW ATTEMPT 65

have been attended with dissatisfaction, for whenever the two
happened to be in the same neighbourhood they took the oppor¬
tunity to repeat to one another the old arguments, obtaining,
I feel .sure, a dead of satisfaction in the renewal of the ancient
quarrel.

^e arrived in the Namtse about noon, but the horses and
mules w«re already tired, and we decided to halt for the day.
In Tibet, with its great plains, a single stage is at least four¬
teen or fiftee» miles, and one expects, if in good condition, to be
able to cover two stages a day, but the rugged nature of the
Sikkim country renders such journeys impossible. Two miles
an hour is a good average, and ten miles a good day’s march,
particularly if one has not a change of mounts. In the present
instance I was particularly anxious to keep my animals fresh
for the trying time we were sure to have in the passes.

We pitched camp just above the bazaar, and as I was still
travelling as a European we attracted a good deal of attention.
In the afternoon the local Kazi, or Lord of the Manor, accompan¬
ied by his son, paid a call. During this time the Kazi and his son
managed to consume the equivalent to a week’s rations of
my tea and sugar.

The Kazi, his household, and his immediate retainers were all
pure Sikkimese of Tibetan origin, but the majority of the villa¬
gers, especially the bazaar-keepers, were Nepalese. This holds
true of nearly all the villages of Sikkim. The Sikkimese, being
Tibetans, are incurably lazy and lacking in the power of sus¬
tained application, so that the beelike immigrants from Nepal
are steadily ousting them from all competitive positions, such
as those of traders, coolies, and, to a certain extent, of agri¬
cultural labourers. It is only the fact that the lands are
entailed in the families of the Sikkimese Kazis that prevents the
Nepalese from becoming the landowners as well. At present
the Sikkimese are becoming more and more the drones in their
own country, and but for the power of the British Government,
the Nepalese would not be prevented from invading the country
and ousting the Sikkimese from their territorial rights.

The next day January 12 we continued our ascent of the
mountain until we came to the elevated plateau of Damtang.
Twice on my way I was asked for my pass—a very unusual
occurrence in the old days—^which shows that the road to

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

Lhasa becomes every year more, instead of less, difficult.
Fortunately I was still within the bounds of the law, and so
was able to proceed without further trouble. But these signs
of interest in travelling parties augured ill for later events.

It was on this day that I began my first active cinemato¬
graphy. As we rose higher and higher on our way to Damtung
we came upon a magnificent view of Kamchendzoifga—^far
surpassing that which one gets from Darjeeling—and this I
filmed. Kanchendzonga is the third highest mountain in the
world, its summit being well over 28,000 feet above sea-level,
and it is even more impressive to look at than Mount Everest,
which is nearly a thousand feet higher. Its outlying ranges
run, for the most part, north and south, and form a good portion
of the boundary-line between Nepal and Sikkim.

Kanchendzonga occupies a curiously-isolated position. It
lies several miles south of the true Himalaya range, which tends
to run in a general west to east line, so that from the Tibetan
plateau Kanchendzonga forms no part of the magnificent
Himalaya panorama. For this reason it is in some ways the
most easily accessible gf the major Himalaya mountains, but it
will probably be a very long time before its ascent is made,
since to the climber it presents far greater difficulties than does
Mount Everest. It has already claimed its toll of human life,
and every serious attempt to scale its suimnit has met with
disaster.

Kanchendzonga, which means the Great Glacier Treasure-
house of the Five Precious Substances, is the object of great
worship in Sikkim, and it plays an important part in Sikkimese
Buddhism. Special ceremonies and sacred dances are held in
its honour, some of them very old, dating from a long time
prior to the introduction of Buddhism into Sikkim, and there
are dark stories told that, in the olden days, these ceremonies
were accompanied by human sacrifices made to the spirit of the
mountain.

Arrived in Damtang, we came to the parting of the ways.
On the left a road led to the great monastery of Pemayangts^,
while on the right a road led to Gantok, the capital of Sikkim.
Up to this time all my servants supposed that I was aiming for
Pemayangts6, but it was necessary for me here to follow for a
bit the Gantok road. As I did not wish to reveal to my under-

PREPARATIONS FOR THE NEW ATTEMPT 67

lings all of my plans, I informed them merely that, as Knight
was not likely to get to Pemayangtse for another ten days, I
intended to take the road to the right and travel a few days
seeing^ something of the unknown parts of Central Sikkim.

Although onr day's journey was but half accomplished, the
mules already showed ^igns of exhaustion, and we had great
diiScul^ in getting them to go on. Whereupon the syce
(groom) gave each of the animals a large bowl of strong tea, the
usual Sikkimese expedient in such cases. To my surprise they
drank ^ this eagerly, and under its stimulus condescended to
return to work. In fact, the senior mule, a female dubbed
'' Paris,” became so exhilarated that she tried to run away,
and in her skittish attempt to imitate a playful kitten broke a
box she was carrying containing our scanty provender. The
precious provisions were carefully retrieved, to the accompani¬
ment of curses on Dame '' Paris.”

Soon after turning to the right the road became a steep
descent. As we stumbled down, and always down, we passed
the villages of Temi and Tarko, from which, to the distant
north, we could see the passes leading into Tibet, until eventu¬
ally we came near to the bottom of the valley, through which
runs the Tista River. The pass which was our immediate goal
lies very near to the source of the Tista, but it was a long and
arduous journey from the point on the river where we were to
its source.

CHAPTER VII

FROM JUNGLE TO GLACIER’

We continued our descent next day (January 13) down to
the water’s edge, and then definitely departed from the road,
turning to our left in order to follow the river-bed up to its
source. The road itself crosses the river and goes on to Gantok,
many miles beyond. From Gantok there is another road which
returns to the Tista some twenty-five miles farther on, and then
follows the river in its northerly course to the passes, so that
ordinarily we should have gone on to Gantok and then come
back to the Tista. But Gantok being the capital was
inhabited by spies of the Tibetan Government. A visit there,
consequently, was to be avoided at all costs, or Lhasa, my
objective, could never be attained. Being compelled to leave
the road we had now the problem of malcing a direct
pathway for ourselves from our present point to the village of
Drikchu, farther up the stream, where the road from Gantok
rejoins the Tista. For the most part there was not even the
pretence of a path, and for the rest there was a trail fit only for
coolies passing in single file. It was quite impossible to use this
trail for animals, especially when loaded; that is, impossible
to use it in the condition in which we found it, as the pathway
on either side was hemmed in by thick jungle growth. The
journey of only some twenty-five miles was destined to occupy
us for several days, as it was necessary for us to go ahead of the
caravan, and with our huge knives of Nepalese and Bhutanese
make, the only ones used in Tibet, cut away enough of the
ferns, bamboo sprouts, and other wild vegetation to afford
passage for our pack-animals.

I am certain that the portion of the country we covered in
this wky is destined to be opened up eventually and through

FROM JUNGLE TO GLACIER 69

communication between India and Tibet ensured along this
route. After cutting through the jungle for some miles, we
came across, here and there, an isolated hut, and once or twice
a tinj* village almost dissociated from communication with the
outer world. In many cases these were inhabited neither by
Nepalese nor Sikkimese^^but by the Lepchas, the original inhabi¬
tants di^ikkim, who were conquered by those invaders from
Tibet who constitute the present so-called Sikkimese. These
primitive Lepchas still continue to live an almost unaltered
mode of existence in the more isolated portions of the country,
such as the one through which we were travelling. The people
do a little cultivation, and are expert fishers in the river pools.
Sometimes they take the fish to market. Where cultivation is
more extensive than usual, the peasants have trouble with the
monkeys, and kfil them wholesale with poison. The Lepchas
appear to have no definite religion, though in their beliefs they
recognise spirits of good and evil. As a general rule they
practise monogamy, and they burn or bury their dead. A
simple folk, they are a dying race without energy enough to
carry on a strenuous fight for existence.

In the daytime the heat was sweltering, and as the sweat
poured down from our faces and bodies, especially when we
were working at the cutting of the path, it seemed impossible
to believe that in a short time—another week or ten days—^we
were destined to be among the glaciers we could see far away,
and buried deep in snow.

That first day in the wilds we halted at the tiny hamlet of
Nampak, and I spent the rest of the day in studying the details
of Lepcha life, as compared with that of the Sikkimese. A
difficult task it proved to be, for the Lepchas have a language
of their own utterly different from all other languages, and they
understand almost no Sikkimese. They were frightened, too,
at the sight of my Sikkimese servants, whom they considered
to belong to the conquering race, and I had to get them alone
before they would answer my questions.

The next day (January 14) provided us with our most
difficult march so far. Up to Nampak there had been vague
suggestions of a trail, but beyond that there was nothing.
Moreover, the ground became very rocky, strewn with giant
boulders, and at one point we had a sheer slide of rock for

70 TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

40 feet, tipped at an angle of 50°. For us, of course, this
presented no great difficulty, but we were forced to construct
a sort of rope brake for the animals. As usual the mules kept
a much firmer hold than the ponies, though at the last moment
“ Paris ” slipped and rolled over—an accident that very ne^ly
cost her own life and that of “ Satan.”^

Up to this time we had kept to the left bank of the r?ver, but
it now became necessary to cross to the other side. This could
only be done at a place called Shamdong, where there was a
shaky bridge coimecting two microscopic villages on either
side of the river. The Tista was still completely unfordable,
owing to its swift current and to the rocks forming cataracts in
its stream.

I had no great love for villages, however, and preferred to
camp in the open, even without our tent, under the natural
arches of a beautiful grove about half a mile before reaching the
bridge. By this time we had almost entirely broken away from
the three-meals-a-day habit. In the morning, before starting,
we consumed enormous quantities of strong tea, but had
nothing to eat, and made the whole of our march on an empty
stomach—such is Sikkimese custom. We halted about three,
and it was four o’clock before our one and only meal of the
day was ready. But what a meal this was ! I have only a
moderate appetite as a rule : the thought of having to consume
three eggs at a sitting is enough to turn me away from even
one. But here I was pushing down six, seven, and even eight
eggs at a time, mixed in a heaped bowl of rice. The others
ate to match.

This development of healthy appetites necessitated the
frequent replenishing of our larder, and later on in the evening
I was forced to send “ Satan ” and Lhaten into the village to
purchase supplies. By a curious coincidence one of Lhaten’s
old friends had managed to find his way to the village on the
other side of the river, being one of the men whom an enterpris¬
ing landlord imported into the ■wilderness in an effort to form a
new community. This meeting resulted in a con’vi’vial evening
for them, for the friend insisted on both servants remaining,
and organized for them a drunken spree that lasted until dawn.
They came reeling home just after I had got up and was trying
to get started.

FROM JUNGLE TO GLACIER 71

This was on the morning of January 15. I insisted on setting
out immediately, so they had to buckle down to the day’s work
without a moment of sleep. On the other side of the river,
however, beyond the Shamdong village—one which is also
called Manka—^the road was very considerably improved, owing
to^he activities of this same landlord, who had tried to cut a path
betwe^his village an^ Drikchu, our immediate destination.
Successive seasonal rains had washed much of it away, and the
jungle undergrowth was sprouting again, but in places we could
even ride instead of having to walk ahead of the ponies and
hew a way for them.

On passing through the village I found another instance of
the landlord’s progressiveness. In the market-place he had
dug a well over which he had erected a stone covering. In
one of the sides of this well-covering had been placed a stone-
tablet inscribed in English with a eulogy of the landlord’s deeds
and merits. No one in the village, of course, knew a word of
English, and he himself was equally ignorant. I was, in fact,
the only person who had ever come to the village who could
read the tablet; but there, nevertheless, was the stone,
imported at great expense from Calcutta, proclaiming to the
wilds, with polysyllabic pomposity, the virtues and excellencies
of the local magnate.

Yet, absurd as this story may sound, one could not but feel
that this local Caesar had made better use of his money than
the plutocrats of Tibet. In spite of the great poverty of Tibet
as a whole, the aristocratic families are enormously wealthy,
but aU of them make a display of their wealth in ways that
are completely non-productive and ephemeral. A thousand
pounds will be spent in providing butter fuel for the temple
lamps. The cost of a single evening's display of this kind is
extraordinary, and the next day there is nothing to show for it.
Temples and monasteries are allowed to faU into decay while
money is poured out in entertaining the monks to sumptuous
banquets. Even if the Sikkimese gentry are becoming enam¬
oured of seeing their own names inscribed on stone tablets, at
least they must erect something enduring—a building, a well,
or a bridge—to which the tablet shall be attached. The great
poverty which strikes the eye in Tibet is the result not of the
lack of money, but rather the misuse of it.

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

To return to our own adventures, both, " Satan ” and Lhaten
started ofi in great spirits after their night’s debauch. “ Satan,”
indeed, managed to get into a fight with a Nepalese boy we met
on the way, and sent him flying for his life into the jungle. It
always surprised me to find what terror the Sikkimese inspired
in the Indians and Nepalese, excepting, of course, the Ghurkas.
The Indians, though vastly superior to the Sikkimi!^e and
Tibetans in intelligence and industry, are easily buUied by any
Sikkimese or Tibetan swashbuckler, though to a European both
Sikkimese and Tibetans appear to be arrant cowards.

Lhaten, to do him justice, had acquired such a hard head that
he remauaed impervious to fatigue, in spite of his spree of the
preceding night, but “ Satan ” began to surrender to slumber
shortly after the fight, when we had gone only two or three
miles, and three times while riding fell so fast asleep that he
rolled out of the saddle, the third time sliding gracelessly under
his pony’s belly.

The need to press on with the utmost speed caused me
moments of acute anxiety. The weather had been fine for
some time past, and I felt that, if we could only get to the pass
before another snowstorm, we would have a chance to get
through. Every moment’s delay was dangerous. But the
last time " Satan ” feU, which was after we had travelled only
some seven mUes, he was in such a stupor that it was with the
greatest difficulty we could raise him. In the circumstances
I thought it necessary to halt for the day, much as I disliked
the idea of losing even a few hours. The short march did not
seem to have decreased my appetite, and for our single meal I
managed to consume a whole chicken and six eggs. The extra
free time available on account of our early halt I determined
to employ in getting ready with my disguise. So far I had been
travelling as an Englishman, and there was no valid reason why
I should not continue as such until we reached the passes, still
several days away, except that I was very anxious now not to
excite too much attention when passing through villages. A
European in this locality is such a rare phenomenon that h is
existence would certainly be marked. If I were seen going up
in the direction of the passes, and then failed to come back,
rumours would quickly spread that I had entered Tibet. This
I was most anxious to avoid. On the other hand, I did not

FROM JUNGLE TO GLACIER 73

wish to disguise myself definitely as yet, as it needlessly increased
the chances of detection ; for though I was entitled to go as far
as the passes, had any of the village officials discovered me
travelling as a Tibetan they would certainly have stopped me
until full inquiries had been made.

Affer.^ome mental gymnastics I decided on a compromise.
I would h«nceforth keep away from all villages and only send
in the servants for supplies. I should dress in Sikkimese
costume and stain my hair, so that, should I be seen from a little
distance away, I would appear as a native and hence excite
no comment. On the other hand, I would not dye my face nor
darken my eyes, and would admit to being English in case
anyone were to insist on coming into our camp and ask
awkward questions.

This preliminary masquerade did not seem to excite the
suspicions of my servants, strangely enough, probably because
they had always considered me half mad when in Gyangts^. I
had then frequently gone so far as to wear Tibetan costume,
and they only thought that I was up to my old trick of studying
natives by “ going native.” Up to this time the servants had
always expected me at any moment to turn back and carry
out the journey to Pemayangtse, but that same afternoon I
informed them that, as we had gone so far, I intended to go on
to Lachen and see the very famous meditative lama there, and
after having a metaphysical discussion with him, return to
Pemayangts^ by way of Gantok. My real intentions they never
fathomed, as they all knew that the passes were supposed to be
closed, and though they had doubts of my sanity, their slow wits
could not conceive that I even would be mad enough to attempt
to push through.

After I had finished staining my hair, I noticed that ” Satan ”
continued to he in his drunken stupor right out in the blazing
sun, so I had two of the other coolies pick him up and throw
him into the tent, as otherwise he would probably have had
sunstroke and thus have added to our troubles. I have never
seen a man so oblivious of the world, so Hterally dead drunk.

The next morning (January 16) we were able to continue our
northerly journey. After another four or five miles of unusu¬
ally bad road, we came to the village of Drikchu, where the road
from Gantok to the passes once more joins the banks of the

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

Tista River. For the time being our work of road-making was
over, but we were once again on the Government highway and
liable to be stopped. I was afraid that someone would hear
that I was heading for the passes without having signed the
guarantee, and was accordingly nervous.

In accordance with my new plan I did not stop in Djilcchu,
but rushed on ahead, leaving the servants behind to blry provi¬
sions for the next few days. I had impressed upon them the
necessity of saying nothing about me to the" villagers, but
merely to state, if asked, that we were a party going on pilgrim¬
age to Lachen.

As I went on alone, another six or seven miles brought me to
the curious, natural elevated plain of Akatang, where I decided
we might camp for the night. So I waited for the servants to
come up. The place was formerly the site of the village of
Drikchu, but for certain political reasons the village has been
moved several miles down the river. On the map, how¬
ever, the changed position is not noted. In several similar
instances the Government of India maps of Sikkim are hope¬
lessly incorrect.

As regards this place, even after the village had been moved
away, its former site continued to be frequented on account
of certain natural hot springs to which are ascribed marvellous
curative powers, but about two years previous to our visit
a large landslide destroyed the springs. The people, being
Sikkimese, never thought of digging them out again, and so
the site is now completely deserted.

This part of Sikkim is very sparsely inhabited, and is devoid
of thriving villages such as one meets elsewhere. This is due to
the absence of Nepalese and Indians, who are the foundation
of Sikkim’s prosperity. When left to themselves the Sikkimese
do not thrive, nor do they of their own accord develop the
natural resources of their own country. The cause of the
exclusion of Nepalese is curious. This part of Sikkim is domi¬
nated by the Pedang Monastery, the largest temple, after
Pemayangts^, in Sikkim. Its former abbot was a very power¬
ful person politically, being a past-master of intrigue. He
inherited the Tibetan dislike of outsiders, and at the time,
some forty-five years ago, when the Sikkimese Government,
pressed by the English, was importing Nepalese as labourers,

FROM JUNGLE TO GLACIER 75

he managed to secure a ruling that none of the new settlers were
to be allowed to reside in that part of Sikkim which came under
the influence of his own monastery. To his diplomatic success
is due the economic failure of his province.

The paucity of villages and the poverty of the few that we
foun^^ong the line of march rendered it increasingly urgent
to securer supplies wimout delay. Fortimately we were
becoming expert in “ scrounging ” from the country itself.
The animals had for fodder the bamboo shoots which grew
in abundance by the roadside, and the greens for the servants’
stew were supplied by three or four varieties of ferns which were
always clogging our footsteps. In place of marwa beer or milk
we had to be content with pure mountain-stream water.

Eggs and fresh meat were scarce, but on this day we bought,
from a party coming down from Lachen, some of the naturally-
frozen meat of Tibet, which the Tibetan peasants eat raw (I
was to become more than accustomed to it later), but which in
Sikkim we cooked. I ate mine grilled, though it had always a
nasty putrid flavour. The servants, as usual, chopped and
boiled it along with the ferns. The natives of this part of the
world have a prejudice against meat cooked in any way except
by boiling. They believe that roasted or grilled meat impedes
the breathing when climbing mountains. The same notion in
regard to roasted meats obtains in Tibet, I foimd out later, the
nomads in particular having a prejudice against meat cooked
in any other way than boiling.

The foUowing day (January 17) only took us another ten miles
along the road, and we camped between the two tiny hamlets
of Singtam (called Singhik, for some reason, on the maps) and
Tong. The semi-disguise turned out to be very successful, as
we passed three or four persons on the road, and they did not
turn around, as I expected, to stare, as they always do when
a European appears. The road all the way was a gentle uphill
incline, scarcely noticeable, but we were already 7,000 feet above
sea-level and no longer felt the heat. In the best of weather
we should have been cool, but to my dismay the speU. of good
weather was broken. It became cloudy and drizzly, and it
was obvious that snow was falling on the mountain-tops. As
we heard in Singtam that the snow already lay deep in the
passes, my heart was in ray boots.

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

The country hereabouts showed signs of gradual decay. We
passed several deserted houses rapidly crumbling away.
Unlike those of Tibet, where stone and sun-dried brick are
employed, the Sikkimese houses are for the most part con¬
structed entirely from bamboo. Under the best of circum¬
stances they last for only eight or nin^ years, after wl^h;they
have to be rebuilt. #

On this particular day we had great difficulty in selecting a
camping-ground, especially as I was anxious to keep weU away
from villages and out of sight, while at the same time in touch
with the road. Eventually we decided on a leaf-fiUed grotto.
The selection of t h is seemingly satisfactory den resulted in a
very unpleasant experience. We woke up in the night to find
our bodies covered with leeches which were already half gorged.
In the summer leeches constitute one of the scourges of Sikkim,
but in the winter, owing to the great night cold, they are seldom
seen. These had been hibernating under the bed of leaves and
had been reawakened into activity by the heat of our bodies.

Unfortrmately, they attach themselves to the skin without
causing the slightest pain—^the pain of an open wound which
refuses to heal comes later—so that all of us were drained of a
good deal of blood before sufficient sensation had been created
to awaken us. My previous experience had taught me that
to attempt to pull leeches off makes matters worse, so we
resorted to the only expedient known, and applied wet salt to
the loathsome creatures, whereupon they immediately dropped
off. Even after this the pain of the sores and the fear of
further invasion kept us awake nearly the whole night.

There are several kinds of leeches found in Sikkim, which
occur in all parts up to 10,000 feet altitude. In the higher
elevations a voracious black species is common, smaller than
the yeUowish-brown creature which abounds lower down.
Their activities are one of the worst nuisances travellers have
to contend with: their appetites for blood of man or beast are
insatiable, and they will attack in such numbers and gorge
so much blood that serious loss of strength may result. In
summer, travellers have noticed that, with an extraordinary
instinct, these vile pests, on the approach of any living creature
in thek neighbourhood, wiE dehberately make for it from some
distance. Ordinary clothing is no obstacle to them, for they

FROM JUNGLE TO GLACIER 77

will suck right through trousers or thick stockings. Watching
them at work, one can see the blood they draw dilating their
skins ; when full they drop off and roll up into balls. The sores
which result from dealing carelessly with leeches which have
attached themselves to the body are very obstinate, and unless
giveif^)se attention maj lead to blood-poisoning or other ills.
PoorVmn^fils when attacked have little means of getting rid of
the blood-suckers, and we had to be very careful about our
mules and ponies.

The next day (January 18) was to be a long march, and so,
for a change, we had something to eat with our tea before we
started. At sunrise we saw the beautiful sight of snow falling
on the top of the Kanchendzonga range. This mountain is such
an important part of the western horizon of so many parts of
Sikkim that there is little wonder it is regarded as the guardian
spirit of the country.

The road was good and interesting, but already we began
to see something of the treeless mountains which characterize
Tibet. In some cases trees have been planted along the road¬
side by the Sikkimese Government. We found later that the
timber-line on the north, or Tibetan side, of the mountains was
much lower than on the south. On the approach through
Sikkim there was quite a lot of timber at 14,000 feet elevation,
which gradually changed from deciduous to evergreens, the trees
between this height and 16,000 feet growing scantier and more
stunted till they disappeared entirely. On the other side of
the passes we had to descend much lower before we met any
very definite signs of vegetation, and what there was seemed
half-hearted in growth.

Half-way along the line of our day's march we crossed again
to the left-hand side of the river by a tiny but quite respectable
suspension bridge. A little farther along we could see an old
Sikkim-fashion bridge. Such a bridge consists of only three
long bamboo poles, one for a footing, and two higher in the air
for handrails. It requires a tight-rope walker to cross one with
any ease, and, of course, it is quite useless for animals.

I was more than ever struck by the absence of the industrious
Nepalese, and the few people we did meet were for the most
part Lepchas and not Sikkimese. In the afternoon we camped
in a charming little dell, invisible from the road, about a mile

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

from the weU-known village of Tsontang (called Chemitang on
the maps), to the dismay of Lhaten, who yearned for the marwa
beer procurable only in the villages. He could not understand
my aversion from sta3dag in an inhabited spot.

We fell to arguing on the subject, and while we were still
forcibly discussing the point, we heard a mystifying i^se in
the surrounding bushes. Thoughts o 5 spies and segreb agents
were chasing through my head, when to our astonishment a cow
appeared in our camp circle, stood for an instant breathing
heavily, and then feU dead. She was frothing horribly at the
mouth, and further investigation showed that she had all the
other symptoms of the last stages of the dread foot-and-mouth
disease. Evidently she had been left behind by some herds¬
man owing to her illness, and on hearing our voices, she had
come in a last spasm hoping to receive human assistance—a
pathetic reminder of man’s dominance over brute creation.

The servants were anxious to eat the corpse, but this I
forbade, so we spent some time in carting our would-be friend
away from our night’s abode.

CHAPTER VIII

TRAPPED IN THE PASSES

We started very early next morning (January 19) as I was
anxious to pass through the vUlage and Government outpost
of Tsontang before it was really light. I knew that a register
was kept of all persons who passed through, and I was anxious
to avoid having to sign this. To escape attention was rather
a difficult task, as the road lay right through the village. I
had everything well muffled up and prayed to all the gods of
Hindustan that “ Paris ” would not begin kicking and generally
“ showing off ” at the wrong moment.

AU went well, however, and we got through without being
challenged, though I heard later that after it was kno-wn that I
had managed to enter Tibet, the local police officers were
brought down to Gantok, court-martialled, and ignominiously
dismissed from the service, owing to their failure to stop me.

Immediately before coming to the village, we passed over the
river again at a place very famous historically. Just under the
bridge the waters of the river churn and boil in a series of rapids.
Until a short time ago, prisoners were thrown over the bridge
to perish in the turmoil below, and the peasants claim to hear
still, in the moaning of the waters, the shrieks of the drowning
men.

Although politically Sikkim at present extends several miles
north of Tsontang, in every other way this village marks the
boundary-line. North of it, for the next fifty miles, lies what
is known as the pass country, consisting of gigantic mountains
with a few narrow valleys forming passes leading to Tibet. It
is, in fact, a transition land between Tibet and Sikkim, with a
geography akin to neither. Its inhabitants also form a people

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

apart, differing both from the Tibetans to the north and the
Sikkimese to the south. They are known as La-pa, or men of
the passes, speaking their own dialect and observing their own
customs. For the most part they are herdsmen living from the
produce of their herds of cattle and yaks—^the latter an animal
unknown in Sikkim proper. In common with the T^J^etans,
they prefer barley to rice. Neither ^ice nor barley wilf grow
here, but the people find it easier to import barley from Tibet
than rice from Sikkim. ■ t

At Tsontang the Tista River breaks up into branches. On
the right it becomes the Lachung, or the River of the Little
Pass, and on the left it becomes the Lachen, or the River of the
Great Pass. These two river valleys constitute the habitable
portion of the pass country, but as lofty mountains permanently
separate the two systems, the people of the two valleys, though
both La-pas, differ considerably one from another. Each valley
possesses but one village of importance, called respectively
Lachung and Lachen.

It suited my purpose much better to follow up the Lachen
Valley, and so we turned to the left and continued our march
until late in the afternoon, steadily rising aU the time. For
the most part the valley was very narrow, and once a single
wooden gate barred the way. This was erected to prevent
the Lachen Valley cattle wandering down into Sikkim—the
only fence needed to wall in a district more than fifty miles
long.

Soon we began to get a foretaste of conditions we might
expect in the pass country. Patches of ice and snow crossed
our path and made progress more difficult. In places the road
itself was encrusted for long distances with frozen snow a foot
deep—a very shppery footing; so we had to dismount and
walk. Beautiful scenery abounded. Every twist in the
valley brought a new surprise, but the road was tiring, and
we were glad to camp at last about half a mile before the
village of Lachen, where we had to spread our tent on the
snow.

Though the rest was very necessary, I was very anxious to
push on, as the weather was more than ever threatening.
Though the passes might be impassable even now, they would
certainly be so after another storm, and the next morning

TRAPPED IN THE PASSES

8 i

(January 20) I was much annoyed to find it was impossible to
make any move that day. The animals were exhausted and
needed a day’s respite. Our boxes were broken and needed to
be repaired. Our provisions were completely exhausted, and
it would be days before we could reach another village, that
whickjay on the other side of the passes, in Tibet, so it became
necessary ^o lay in a supply of food at Lachen, and aU this work
would require time. It was all very exasperating, and further.

it now became necessary for me to inform the servants of my
intention to go on to the pass itself. They were still under the
impression that Lachen was my destination, and a talk with the
old lama my goal. I dared not mention anything about Lhasa
as yet, but determined to inform them that I wanted to go as
far as Kampa Dzong, just inside of Tibet. When I called them
round and explained my desire, they were horrorstruck at the
idea of pushing on, and kept repeating that the passes were
completely blocked. I insisted that we go on for a bit, and
then turn back if necessary. The servants looked on the

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

prospect in a none too friendly way, but eventually, after some
persuasion, consented to go forward, though they tried to
insist that I make a substantial money-offering to the Lachen
lama and solicit his indulgence to keep back the snow.^

All the natives of this part of the world firmly believe that a
life of ascetic contemplation brings ^ith it magical pwers,
including the ability to control the elements. The Lichen lama
is particularly famous all over Sikkim for Ms regulation of rain
and snow* Even villages in the south, domiimted by other
temples, send petitions to him with huge gifts, asking that rain
be stopped or made to fall, as is desirable.

When they brought forth their stipulation, which did not at
all accord with my desires, I told the servants that in a case
like this I was keen on getting value for my money. If I was
to pay the money, I wished to be certain that no snow would
fall, and as no guarantee would be forthcoming, this could only
be assured by paying the lama afterwards, when we saw what
the weather turned out to be as the result of his devotions.
With this they had to be content.

The early afternoon was destined to give us another fright.
The animals had been left to graze at will on the patches of
earth still free from snow. We later discovered them lathering
at the mouth like our friend the cow of the previous day. It
seems that they had been eating a poisonous weed which grows
in the pass country, and which constitutes the bane of the
native herdsmen. The herb is known as duk-shing, and is
more prevalent in some valleys than others and is deadly to
yaks and sheep. Such places where it is more common the
herdsmen generally avoid. My servants assured me cheer¬
fully that, unless something was done quickly, the effect on our
pack-animals would be fatal, but suggested that I give the
beasts my little hoard of sugar, as it was supposed to act as an
antidote. Very sadly I handed over the sugar-bag, for though
I was sceptical of its curative powers, I could not afford to run
any risks. At least the creatures did not grow any worse as
the result of this novel medicine, and when they did later drop
off one by one, it was as a result chiefly of exhaustion*

I then sent the servants into Lachen to buy supplies, but
impressed upon them the necessity for keeping absolute silence
in regard to me and my movements. Had they followed out

TRAPPED IN THE PASSES

my orders the course of subsequent events would have been very
different, but on their return I found, first that no sugar could
be found in Lachen, which meant months of discomfort for
one wfth a “ sweet tooth,” as the Tibetans eat no sugar in any
form, and it would be impossible to buy any in Tibet; and
secon'ii (and more impcgrtant), that “Satan” had met an old
bosom fri«nd from Pemayangtse, to whom, under the seal of
secrecy, he had confided who I was, and the fact that we were
bound for theTibetan passes.

I became livid with fury at hearing this ; I knew enough
about the Oriental manner of keeping secrets to be convinced
that in no time the matter would become public property, that
all my precautions for secrecy in Sikkim had been in vain, and
that in a few weeks’ time, at the outside, the news of my stay
in Lachen would leak down to Gantok, the capital of Sikkim,
where there are numerous agents of the Tibetan Government,
who would doubtless communicate to Lhasa the news of my
suspicious movements.

I was so upset at the news that I refused to eat anything,
and had a twenty-four hours’ fast—a " tantrum ” habit
inherited from nursery days. Furthermore, I ordered a start
to be made very early the next morning before people were
about, lest the news should have already leaked out and a local
official arrive at our camp and order us to remain there pending
inquiry.

It was, in aU ways, a disagreeable day, but it had enabled
us to put our things in order and prepare ourselves for possible
calamities later on, a fact which was destined, as events turned
out, to save our lives.

To make things even more dismal, the next morning (Jan. 21)
saw the beginning of a wretched, misty day, with every now
and then a few flakes of snow. It was obvious that a snow¬
storm was impending, and my one hope was that we should be
over the pass before it came on. Once on the tableland of
Tibet, I cared not a straw for snow, but that promised land
lay beyond the mountains which loomed threateningly before
us. The mules had recovered from the poison-herb troubles
of the previous day, but the ponies stUl seemed to be very
shaky, so we had to walk the whole day in the desire to give
them a further recuperative period.

84 TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

On the way we had to plough a path through a good deal of
snowdrift, so that our progress was very slow, but by early
afternoon we were some twelve miles above Lachen, and had
risen to a height of 12,000 feet above sea-level. This, 1 have
learned by experience, is the critical height. It is very seldom
that a healthy person gets mountain-sipkness under that ktight,
but once that level is reached he may begin to suffer, and
further ascent may prove dangerous. If, on the other hand,
having risen so far he experiences no pain, he'^need have no
fear of going on to 20,000 feet. He is, in fact, practically
immune.

I was therefore interested to note that it was just at this
point that “ Satan ” began to complain of racking headache
and ringing in the ears. But he was the only one to suffer, and
after I had given hi m a few cloves to chew he began to feel
better. The others and myself felt nothing more than the
exertion of the climb.

Another two miles brought us past Tangu, the last village in
Sikkim, and even this is a village in name rather than in fact.
There are a few La-pa huts inhabited only in summer; in
winter it contains only two petty officials who serve as outpost
guardians, and as keepers of the Government rest-houses. By
departing from the road I managed to get my little caravan
past this point unobserved, and heaved a sigh of relief, think¬
ing my troubles were over—^but we were not yet out of the
woods.

Still another two miles brought us to a point where, for a
quarter of a mile, the road and the whole hillside was a smooth
sheet of ice, upon which, at first, we found it impossible to walk.
The animals had even more trouble, and slithered all over the
place. Our loads suffered serious damage in the frequent falls.
To add to the confusion, the servants lost their heads completely
and began shrieking contradictory orders to one another. Two
of them, " Satan ” and “ Diogenes,” improved matters by
weeping.

I had to take a strong hand in matters myself before some sort
of order was restored, and we then began to throw gravel on the
glacial surface and cut out occasional steps in the ice with our.
knives, the same knives we had used in the jungle a few days
previously. By these methods we got our caravan across, but

TRAPPED IN THE PASSES 85

this one job had taken an hour, and we were aU so exhausted
tha t we had to camp almost immediately afterwards.

In the meantime “ Gyangtse,” Lhaten’s pony, a time-worn
nag, showed signs of succumbing. He leaned in a very disso¬
lute fashion against a tree (there were stiD, a few trees about)
and .lefused to eat or ^rink. Under such circumstances the
Sikkimese* always resort to some new concoction, and so we
brewed strong tea and added to it a half-bottle of raw spirit
which Lhateif had purchased in Lachen. The major portion
of this we managed to pour down the poor pony’s throat,
though not without a struggle, for he marshalled all his waning
strength in an attempt to hunger-strike, for evidently he had
strong convictions on the question of forcible feeding. In the
end he managed to break our one and only bottle with which
we had been feeding him. Temporarily he revived, but I felt
that sooner or later we should no longer have the pleasure of
his company.

By this time we were so fatigued that we no longer had
strength or energy enough to put our camp in order. Rather
than have the trouble of hoisting the tent, I decided to sleep in
the open. The servants picked a spot under a tree, one of the
sparse sentinels of the timber-line, while I preferred to be
without such protection. Our bags and boxes, moreover, were
left scattered about, but we were quite satisfied with our day’s
efforts and too tired to worry about orderliness. Despite the
weather conditions, we soon fell asleep when we lay ourselves
down on the ground.

It is not difficult to imagine the horror which I felt a couple
of hours later when I woke from a doze to find that snow was
beginning to faU. Obviously there was nothing to be done, and
I could only hope that this was merely the result of a passing
cloud and not the beginning of a serious snowstorm. I was
soon undeceived. The snow began to settle over me inch by
inch. In a way it was a delicious feeling, because it had been
bitterly cold and the new snow acted as a gradually-thickening
blanket. Consequently I felt not the slightest inclination to,
get up and seek protection under the tree. Only, in order to
keep a supply of air, I occasionally thrust a tiny hole through
the snow above me with my riding-crop. The snow fell
continuously, but the servants, somewhat under cover.

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

remained asleep the whole night through, but early the next
morning (January 22) when they awoke and perceived the snow
for the first time, they began to yeH with dismay, thinking them¬
selves for ever lost. Their scare was doubled when they failed
to see me, for by this time I was quite hidden from sight by
more than three feet of snow, and thej;e was no sign to- ghow
where I lay. The servants thought, of course, that J had been
smothered to death. I let them howl for a while without
moving, for I dreaded to leave the protectiorf" of my warm
natural blanket, but eventually I sat up, the top of my head
just appearing above the snow. This seemed to them to savour
of the miraculous, and something of their fright abated, and for
a while I was something of a tin-god to them.

We were able to discuss seriously what next was to be done,
and rather glad we were still to be alive. It would have been
death to push on for the moment. The snow was falling
faster and faster, and it was certain to he much deeper higher
up in the mountain guUies. There was no hut or village this
side of the pass in which we could take refuge. To stay on
where we were was equally out of the question. In fact, the
delay of another hour appeared dangerous-. It was difficult to
get back even now, and with more snow to contend with it
would be quite impossible. Being unable either to go forward
or to go back, we should perish miserably in our present
position!

It was therefore our obvious duty to fight our way back
immediately, but owing to the increasing difficulty caused by
the snow, it was inconceivable that we could get to Lachen in
one day. The servants thought that we would be lucky to
get back to Tangu, where we could throw ourselves on the
mercies of the two officials there.

Tangu was, however, absolutely taboo, as I knew that once
we stopped there our chances of getting to Lhasa would be
gone for ever. But I remembered that between Tangu and
Lachen there were one or two groups of cattle-sheds, or huts,
used by the herdsmen only in the sunamer when their cattle were
brought up thus far to graze. These huts were deserted now,
of course, but we could probably break into one of them and
find there some kind of shelter in which we could await further
developments.

TRAPPED IN THE PASSES

The nearest such shelter lay six miles hack, and I gave orders
to make for it immediately. It was hard work to make headway
through three feet or more of freshly-faUen snow, particularly
as the»path had been completely obliterated. It took us all day
to cover the six miles, but the sense of danger and the urgent
need, of finding sheltei^ made us oblivious to the feeling of
fatigue, tjjough I had a little difficulty in getting the servants
past Tangu. The snow was falling so heavily that we could
scarcely see a yard in front of us. Consequently there was
no longer need for concealment when we passed that
outpost.

In the afternoon, curiously enough, “ Satan ” began to suffer
from snow-blindness. It is well known that freshly-fallen snow
is much more irritating to the eyes than snow which has lain
for some time, but it is rare to find snow-blindness coming on
during a snowstorm. It is usually only the reflection of the
sun’s rays on the eye that brings about injury to the eyesight,
and the sun was then completely invisible. “ Satan ” had,
foolishly enough, forgotten to bring his dark glasses, and I was
forced to lend him mine, and contented myself with pulling my
fur cap down over my eyes. In other ways, also, I was feeling
far from well, and in fact was experiencing the first symptoms
of that illness which was later to develop into dysentery. The
result of eating Tibetan meat was already beginning to be felt.
We were all, therefore, delighted when we got to our destination
late in the afternoon.

The door of the first hut we tried yielded to a push, and we
found ourselves inside its one and only room. The hut was
built on American log-cabin lines, except that there was a great
smoke-hole in the roof. There were huge chinks between the
logs of the walls, and these let in a good deal of snow, and the
wind played in and out as it listed. Our abode was far from
ideal, as can be imagined, but we were more than satisfied,
particiflarly as we found inside two or three pieces of dry wood
which could be used to kindle a fire. But while unloading the
animals I was annoyed to discover that in their morning’s fright
the servants had been unable to find several of the smaller
packages which we had foolishly left scattered about the
preceding night, and which, of course, had been covered by the
snow

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

The next morning (January 23) we held a council of war.
Though the weather had improved, a little snow was still falling
and it was impossible for us to attempt to get to the passes. I
was anxious to stay where we were. But the horsed were
without fodder, and there was still danger that we might be
snowbound for an indefinite period, /iurmg which time, the
chances were that the animals, and possibly we/)urselves,
would die from starvation. The servants were clamorous to
retire, and at last I agreed to do so, though secretl;f I determined
to put as many brakes on our backward journey as possible.
I still had faint hopes, which I dared not express, that
once the snow stopped we might be able to force our way
through to Tibet.

The rearward march proved terribly exhausting. By the
time we were on the way the snow was breast-high, and each
of us had to take it in turn to act as a plough to make a furrow
through the snow in which the animals might follow, for they
were helpless otherwise. Fortunately aU of them, even the
invalid pony, seemed to be in fairly good condition to-day.
When after three miles we came to another group of deserted
huts, we were, as my diary has it, “ almost dead from fatigue,”
so that I had little difficulty in persuading the servants to go no
farther for the day. It was a wearying business. With every
step on this retreat my hopes drooped a little lower, and I think
only a natural obstinacy held me up under this dispiriting
reverse. The night’s repose stiffened me in my purpose, and
next day (January 24) our march had only covered a little over
a mile when I purposely went on strike and refused to travel
another inch farther. For here we found another couple of
huts, and I remembered that there were no more until we got
to Lachen, stiU some six or seven miles farther back. I knew
that we must avoid returning to Lachen at all costs.

It was a beautiful day. The sun was shiaing brilliantly and
the snow was already beginning to melt. Moreover, a curious
bend in the valley had sheltered a little patch on the hillside
where it was almost free from snow. Here the animals could
get a few mouthfuls of coarse winter grass. This solved the
fodder question temporarily. Our own food-store was running
dangerously low, but we had enough to last us a few days
longer, so I decided to form a little winter-camp and wait for a

TRAPPED IN THE PASSES

new opportunity to push on to the pass. Under ordinary
circumstances I should have returned to Sikkim and waited
another two months before renewing our attempt to enter
. Tibet, but I was convinced it was now or never, and preferred
to hang on desperately.

From the afternoon 04the 24th to the afternoon of the 26th
we stayed ip our little camp on the spot. Personally I enjoyed
this short time of rest, but I was careful to arrange little jobs for
the servants, ^or their morale would have been completely
destroyed in a few hours’ idle brooding. Fortunately we were
entertained in a very unexpected fashion. A huge cat began
to prowl round our hut and disturb us by its noises. It was
in looks and manner much more like a wdd-cat than one of a
domestic breed. It had started its life probably as a kitten in
some herdsman’s house, and then, being deserted, had “ reverted
to t3rpe.” The deep snow had destroyed his food-supply, so
sniffing our presence he had decided to blackmail us into giving
him free board and lodging.

We did, indeed, bestow a small piece of meat, but when we
ourselves were so near starvation, it was impossible to be over-
generous. He waxed angry at our miserliness, and began a
vigorous physical attack on our larder, and later on us, which
we had to repulse with our riding-crops. After a fierce battle
lasting for half an hour the cat retired—though not until we
bore marks of the fray in the way of scratches so serious
that they required first-aid attention. During the remainder
of our stay the cat continued on in the neighbourhood and
gave a full solo rendering of what he thought of us.

On the 26th I decided to go forward again. The snow had
been melting steadily in our part of the valley. In a very high
altitude such as this, where the air is rarefied, the sun’s rays
during the daytime have an overpowering effect, however cold
the nights may be, and under these scorching rays the snow
had begun to shrink and, though stiU deep, I thought we had a
chance to get through. The food question was becoming so
pressing that no further delay was to be brooked. A move had
to be made one way or the other, but we only got off in the
afternoon, as I had to spend the whole morning coaxing and
persuading the servants into accompan5nng me, sometimes
even bullying them. It frequently happened that bullying was

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

the best policy with these men, for they took coaxing as a sign
of weakness and became awkward and obstinate.

Owing to the late start, we were able to cover only four miles.
This brought us to the hut in which we had first takemrefuge
after the commencement of the snowstorm. Soon after arriving
we saw a snow-leopard prowling aboijt, and this so frightened
the animals that “ Diogenes ” had to sleep outside v^th them to
act as guard.

It is extraordinary how these animals can wallf over the snow
without sinking into it. The natives explain this peculiarity by
giving the snow-leopards supernatural powers.

The next day (January 27) was, to quote my diary, " the most
awful day I have ever spent.” The memory of the miseries
we had to endure remains very keen. Owing to the more
protected nature of this part of the valley, we found that the
snow had hardly melted at all, and for a great part of the way
it lay between four and five feet deep. The farther we
went the deeper we sank. Soon after this the valley began
to narrow down to a gorge which was literally choked with
snow.

For me the desperate ploughing through the snow was
absolute misery. My iUness had been growing worse these last
two days, and had sapped me of all strength. I was afraid to
show my weakness before the servants, and so sent on my
caravan ahead while I staggered along after it. Every fifty
yards or so I would get quite confused in the snow and fall.
Where I fell I was forced to lie and rest for a minute or two before
I could summon my energies to struggle up and press on. Fear
overtook me that I was being left miles behind, but afterwards
I found that the servants were faring nearly as badly.
Blundering on in my anxiety, I caught up with the party at
sunset and we ploughed on for another two hours, not in the
least knowing where we were, for the road lay deep-buried in
snow and we had only the general contour of the valley by
which to go. The vagueness of our position and direction
demoralized the whole caravan, and the animals seemed to be
as much in a maze as the men.

Frequently we thought that we were on safe ground, when
suddenly the man ahead would disappear from sight down some
gully or water-hole rendered invisible by the snow. We had

TRAPPED IN THE PASSES

used up all our spirits in a vain attempt to secure extra stimula¬
tion, but by balf-past eight we were still far from our objective,
the plateau of Sitang. Our day’s march had been only some
eight or nine miles, but it had taken us over fourteen hours to
cover even this distance. We were lost. Our strength was
failing and our hearts w^re in our boots. Where the roadway
might be we had not the faintest idea, and we were wallowing
in a long snowdrift. It was pitch-dark although the moon
should have Been visible. Suddenly, while we were in this
state, it began to snow again. I was long past all feeling by
now, but Lhaten broke down and wept. Later his weeping
changed into hysterical sobbing which could not be stopped.
The others were bordering on the same state.

It was absolutely impossible to go any farther that night, so I
looked about for shelter. We had long passed the region of
houses or huts, but what was even more serious, I could see no
place where we could possibly erect a tent. Hunting around,
we espied among the great rocks overhanging the river one
with a flat top from which most of the snow had been driven
by the wind, and it was upon this that we decided to hoist
our tent, for under such conditions to have slept in the open
would have meant certain death.

In our exhausted condition the work of hoisting the tent
required an effort of will. Snow and wind beat against us and
nearly caused a catastrophe even before we had erected the
canvas, which we had to hold down by placing boxes on its
sides and ends, for of course the rock was impervious to tent-
pegs. Into this small tent aU five of us had to squeeze, although
it was meant for only one person, or at the most for two. For
the animals a hole was burrowed in the snow by the side of the
rock. There was nothing else we could do for them, but we
were afraid that they would be frozen to death during the night.

I deemed it fortunate for our food-supply that we were too
tired to feel hungry, and were content with a small piece of meat
apiece. This we had to eat raw m true Tibetan fashion, for we
had no means of lighting a fire.

An hour later the wind dropped, but the short comparative
calm was succeeded by one of the terrific windstorms which are
known oifly in Tibet and in the passes. In a very short time
the tent had been blown in on us, and we lay huddled together

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

in one tight heap, with the canvas beating on our heads. Still
the gale increased, and at last one terrific blast carried our whole
huddled mass off the rock and into the snow beyond, where
we aU landed badly frightened but unhurt. “ Satan" now
suddenly remembered that he had been brought up a priest, and
began a long invocation to aU the Tib^an saints, being particu¬
larly vociferous in his appeal to the polygamous, vjne-bibbing
Padma Sambhava, dead these thousand years and more. He
confessed, among other things, how foolish h^ had been to
come with me, and asked pardon therefor.

The wind eventually died down about three in the morning,
and until then sleep was impossible. “ Satan ” kept up his
lugubrious prayers tUl, with the dechne of the storm, immediate
annihilation seemed averted, then he fell into a doze like the
rest of the worn-out and apprehensive party.

When I woke again a few hours later (January 28) I found
the servants were already packing up. They were firmly
minded to dash back to Sikkim. They took it for granted that
even I could not possibly want to go on. And I must confess
that they were very nearly right. All my fine hopes had evapo¬
rated, and had I been asked for my vote on the subject it would
have been cast in favour of return. But this cool assumption
that I had abandoned the enterprise was too much for me.
Fearing that argument would be useless, I rushed for the food-
bag, already nearly empty, and holding it over the great river
ravine, I swore that if they went back I would throw their food
away, which meant that they would starve before they could
arrive once more at the inhabited part of Sikkim. I then
pointed out that they were more than half-way through the
snow, and that to turn back would be as difiicult as to go on.
Letting this argument sink in, I rushed on as fast as I could,
leaving them to follow. The strategy had effect; they came
sheepishly after me. When I say I rushed on, it must not be
imagined it was with any great speed, for the snow was deeper
and more clogging and troublesome than ever.

We had a very curious bit of luck that morning. Our friend
the snow-leopard had passed us in the night and seemed to be
heading for the pass, for we could see his footprints in the snow.
There seemed to be a striking regularity about his path, and it
occurred to me that he might be travelling over the line of the

TRAPPED IN THE PASSES

road. Investigation proved that this idea was correct. By
following in his footsteps we saved ourselves a good deal of
road-seeking. It was amazing to me how the leopard knew the
road, buried as it was beneath several feet of snow, and, of
course, level with the wide white expanse on every side. I
could only suppose that^it was by means of a sense of smell,
effective through the deep snow, though why he should have
kept to the road with all its zig-zags, when he could easily
have made cr 5 ss-cuts impossible for us, was a mystery which I
did not attempt to solve.

The servants looked upon the footprints as a very auspicious
omen, or even as a miraculous intervention on the part of the
blessed Buddhas and Bodhisattvas—a notion that I was careful
not to contradict.

About four hours later we had an even greater stroke of
fortune. The valley continued to narrow more and more.
The mountains on either side closed down to form precipitous
cliffs, and it seemed as if we were crawling through a funnel.
When the snow was at its deepest and further progress seemed
impossible, the valley suddenly twisted and once more widened
out, and we came into an entirely different type of country. It
seemed as if some ghostly wizard had waved his magic wand
and a mysterious transformation had taken place.

Not a tree, bush, nor scrub was visible. There were only
three or four inches of snow on the ground, and here and there
were great patches of bare earth, earth of that sandy and
desolate kind peculiar to the Tibetan plateau. A few miles
farther on and the valley swept to the right and became a broad
plain nmning in an east to west direction, bounded on the north
and south by overshadowing mountain ranges. Technically
we Ivere still in Sikkim: the northern range of mountains
marked the political boundary-line. But geographically and
geologically we were already in Tibet. The scarcity of
the snow was an evidence of this. The Indian side of the
Himalayas is deluged by rain in the summer and by snow in
the winter. The rain- and the snow-bearing clouds wafted from
the ocean do not rise high enough to cross the Himalayan
heights against which they break and precipitate their contents,
so that on the Tibetan side there is a notable absence of mois¬
ture. In summer the rain is scanty, in some parts almost

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

unknown. In winter, except on the mountain peaks, the snow
seldom lies more than a few inches deep, and this is soon melted
by the terrific rays of the midday sun, which are so powerful
that there is always danger of sunstroke in exposed places if
one is careless.

On the other hand, the night cold i^intense, far greater than
anything known on the south side of the Himalayas, and the
terrible Tibetan winds bite through the skin into the very bones.
In these conditions death and desolation reignC There is no
country which appears so bleak and dreary as the lifeless plains
of Tibet. Even the Tista River, as we neared its source, seemed
devoid of life, for here it was but one sheet of rigid ice.

In greatly-improved spirits we continued our way until
evening, and eventually camped just under the Chumiomo
Glacier. Here the ground was frozen so hard that we broke
several wooden tent-pegs trying to drive them into the soil,
and finally we had to discard these and use only giant iron nails.
Even these were badly bent by the frost-bound ground.

The next day (January 29) I had hoped to be over the actual
pass but, owing to the gross inaccuracy of the existing maps, we
missed our way and went eight miles out of our course. The
result was that evening found us stiU in the upper Tista Valley.
By this time I had discovered our mistake, but it was too late
to retrace our steps that day.

This event was to us a great calamity, for we had completely
exhausted our food-stock and were weUnigh starving. All the
animals, too, had reached the danger-mark of fatigue. The
previous two nights in the open had, in fact, proved too much
for the ailing pony “ Gyangts^.” His lungs had caught a c hill ,
and I saw that at the best he could only last two or three days
longer.

In these circumstances I decided to end, by one stroke,
both his miseries and ours. All my servants had very strict
Buddhist religious scruples, however scampish they might be
in their private life, and refused to kih any living thing, though
they were quite willing to eat any animal killed by someone else.
Consequently I had to do the necessary work myself. With
my huge knife I slit the poor beast’s throat. We waited a few
minutes, and then, being unable to restrain our hunger longer,
we sliced off the choicer portions of his carcase and set to work

'TRAPPED IN THE PASSES 95

to devour the still warm meat. Fuel being more than ever
unprocurable, we were forced to eat this raw. To a gourmet
the raw and still-quivering flesh of a horse may not appear
appeti^g, but I had long lost all sense of squeamishness ; and
all of us sat down to the meal with relish. Regarding the inci¬
dent from a place of moderate comfort the whole thing may
seem revolting, but it was the wisest thing we could do, in fact
the only thfl^g to do to save our lives and end quickly the poor
pony’s miseri^, which could not be mitigated.

CHAPTER IX

“VICTORY TO THE GODS!”

For eight weary miles we retraced our steps the next morning
(January 30). In this part of the valley the road had long since
disappeared, but after scouting around in several directions, I
eventually managed to light on the proper course. This proved
to be along aM narrow side-alley stretching for several miles
which climbed up almost due north. This soon became a
difficult ascent, for not only were we forced to walk, but the
weakened state of the remaining animals necessitated our
carrying on our own shoulders a good deal of their loads. We
trudged stolidly up till we were at an altitude of 17,000 feet.
During this climbing we were often compelled to halt and rest,
for at such an altitude any form of exertion brings on a
torturing fatigue, and this steady climb seemed to tear the very
lungs out of us. The next i,ooo-feet rise was torture, and it
was not until sunset that we reached the path of the pass
some 18,000 feet above sea- level, and could shout with joy,

“ Lha-gyal-lo ! Lha-gyal-lo I ” {lit. “ Victory 1 Victory to
the gods I ”).

We turned back to catch our last glimpse of India. For
miles and miles on either side of us we could see the Himalayan
peaks soaring up to meet and penetrate a huge blanket of cloud
and mist. It seemed as if a shroud of fear and despondency
lay over the high places of the world. For me, with the long
and dangerous journey through the Forbidden Land stiU
ahead, it seemed like a message of doom.

We had exhausted all our energies in our battle with the snow
and starvation in the passes, and now that we had come through
it was as if we were not at the end, but at the very beginning, of'
our difficulties. We had stiU the great winds and the biting

“ VICTORY TO THE GODS ! ”

cold of the bleak Tibetan plains to contend with—^no small
matter if that were our only obstacle—^but, in addition, from
now onward we had not Nature alone, but man also, to
encounter. We were |now in the Forbidden Land itself, and
every step that took us nearer to the Sacred City brought with
it greater danger of d^ection, for the watch against foreign
intrusion, which is sometimes slack on the outer and more
sparsely-intiabited parts, becomes the stricter the nearer the
capital is approached. Knowing all the difficulties which lay
in our way, it seemed to me impossible ever to reach our goal,
and supposing by some miracle we attained our objective and
reached Lhasa, we should still be faced with our greatest danger
—an attack on the part of the fanatical monks of the great
central monasteries. As a result of their threats, not only had
we been forbidden to come to Lhasa, but had not even been
permitted to remain in Gyangtse. When they should discover
that in spite of their threats I had come to the capital, there was
no telling to what lengths their fury might lead them.

In spite of these despondent broodings, there was nothing
to do but to push on with the undertaking. We had not only
crossed the Rubicon, we had also burned our bridges behind
us, for the prospect of having to return through the passes was
even more terrible than to go on. There was nothing to do but
to steel myself against anything that might occur.

That night, however, nothing more could be done. The
animals refused to go any farther. We ourselves were at the
end of our tether, so we were forced to camp on the broad, even¬
surfaced summit of the pass, a formation which is peculiar, so far
as is known, to this pass. The natives believe it to be inhabited
by dark and terrible demons who bring disaster upon everyone
who stops there. But in the present instance there was. no
choice, and we set about looking for a camping-place. An
almost ideal spot was found in a tiny ravine hollowed out by a
stream which forms in summer from the melting of the winter
snows of the pass and the neighbouring Chumiomo Peak. Soon
we were tucked away inside our tent. It was parishing cold,
but I feared more for the less-protected animals than for our¬
selves, so I commanded the servants to take some of Our own
blankets and tie them around the beasts, for we at least could
obtain a precarious warmth by snuggling close to on© another,
c

98 TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

and I had a great dread of losing our principal means of trans¬
port.

For food we had nothing but the hunks of horse-meat which
we had brought with us, but we were fortunate enough to find
a small quantity of yak- and mule-dung—the aftermath of the
small native caravans which in summer go over the passes—and
we could make a pretence of cooking our flesh and, what was
more, were able to prepare some tea, the best o^^stimulants.
We were all of us, however, possessed of a w€ird and eerie
feeling, and soon the servants began to recite tales of the hill-
demons, and then equally fantastic stories of the wild men who
are supposed to live in the mountains. I had already heard
brief mention of these, and listened with curiosity to what my
men had to say on the subject.

In nearly all parts of Tibet one finds tradition of the existence
of a primitive race of men—former inhabitants of the land who
have been driven out of the plains by the Tibetans and who
now dwell only in the passes and on inaccessible mountain
crags. My own servants referred to them as snowmen. They
are said to be great, hairy creatures, huge in size and possessed
of incredible physical strength. Although having a certain
low cunning, they are deficient in intelligence, and it is only the
intellectual superiority of the Tibetans that has enabled them
to oust the primitive snowmen from the plains. These men
of the mountains brood upon their wrongs and wreak then-
vengeance upon any casual herdsmen who may be found stray¬
ing in their domain. So runs the legend, and many attempts
have been made to ascertain what facts may have given rise to
it, for it has been permitted to no white man to meet these
snowmen, and even a Tibetan, when pinned down to it, will
admit that he has never seen one, but that he has " heard of a
man who has ”—sometimes it comes to as near as a cousin, or
at least a cousin by marriage, who has been pursued by the
snowmen and just escaped -with his life. After aU, they will
observe, do not every year a number of herdsmen away in the
mountains fail to return to their native -villages ?—sure proof,
they will add, that they have been devoured by the -wild men 1
RockhiU, who came across this tradition in the extreme
eastern part of Tibet, suggests, in his Land of the Lamas, that
the wild men may be nothing other than bears. For other

'' VICTORY TO THE GODS !

parts of Tibet this explanation could scarcely be valid, for in
many areas—as, for example, in Kampa Dzong, Pari, and
district—^bears are unknown.

Others have suggested that they may be some form of ape.
Only one thing can be said in favour of this theory : the many
tales told about the iipitative habits of the monkey family
bearing a striking resemblance to some of the native fable,
related by Tibetan peasantry with regard to the snowmen.
As examples 1 might quote two anecdotes, crude in the extreme,
as told me by my servants that evening.

Lhaten related how a friend of his escaped from the wild
men owing to his acuteness. He was chased by one of these
monsters, and noticed that when he stopped for a second to
look back the mountain-man also stopped and glanced back
over his shoulder. This went on for some time, the savages
however, gradually drawing nearer. Eventually the Tibetan
threw himself down and pretended to go to sleep, whereupon
the pursuer again followed his example and indeed did fall
asleep, so that the poor peasant, taking advantage of this fact,
could make his escape.

Satan,'' not to be outdone in the story-telling business,
now chimed in and related an even more thrilling event, which
was supposed to have occurred in Lachen, where occasional
tins of petroleum are imported to furnish lights for the Lapas
during their long nights. A certain peasant discovered, one
afternoon, that a wild man had entered his hut, at the door of
which stood an open tin of oil. The peasant picked up a small
tub of water in order to throw it at his adversary, but noticing
that the wild man imitated his action by picking up the tin of
oil, the man poured the water over himself and was delighted
to find that the savage, in imitation, emptied the petroleum
over his own body. The man then seized a blazing stick on
the open fire, and upon the savage doing the same, the petro¬
leum caught fire and the wild man was burnt to death.

As an anthropologist I had been interested in the wild man
discussion, but I soon found out that the information acquired
belonged by right more to the folk-lorist than to the serious
scientist, and I proceeded to divert the conversation into other
channels—^viz. our plans for the immediate future. At this
point I revealed the whole of my plans to my men.

100

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

Up to that time they knew merely of my desire to reach
Tibet. I now made bold to tell them that my goal was not
only Tibet, but Lhasa itself, and that to succeed in getting
there I should be forced to go in disguisrl. There was an outcry
at this revelation. They besought me to get the mad idea out
of my head and renounce the project. ^ But I persisted, and by
cajolery and promise of reward obtained their acquiesence.
To each of them I assigned his new rdle, had ins^^ed then and
there upon a careful rehearsal of it. From the baggage I got
out a gala costume, such as is worn by Sikkimese nobility, and
gave it to “ Satan ” to try on. Hereafter he was to be the
master, posing as a small landed proprietor going on pilgrimage
to Lhasa, taking the rest of us along in his suite. Except for
this change of masters, the other servants were to continue in
their present duties, while I was degraded to the capacity of
Lhaten’s assistant, and was to act as general cook and bottle-
washer. I must admit that the servants now entered into the
project with unexpected gusto. They came to view it as a game,
for the dangers which were before us in case of detection had not
yet occurred to their slow intellects. The more they thought
over the reversal of positions, apparently, the keener they
became to start. In fact, they wanted me to diverge the next
day to the right and attempt to go directly to Lhasa, but I
insisted upon going to Shigats6 first. This, as I have mentioned,
is the second sacred city of Tibet and the seat of the Trashi
Lama, and I thought it might prove easier to get there than to
Lhasa, so that, in case we were turned back before reaching
the Forbidden City itself, I should at least have seen that city
of Tibet which ranks after the capital in importance.

It now became essential that I adopt complete disguise and
act the part of coolie which I had taken on myself, feeling that
the more lowly I appeared the less attention I should attract
to myself. The actual process of disguise I postponed until
the next morning (January 31). This turned out a particularly
painful business. My hair was already done and required only
a few finishing touches, but in order to stain my skin I had to
strip and stand stark naked in that bitter morning vdnd of the
pass, while Lhaten daubed on me my spedal concoction of,
walnut-juice and iodine. I considered it necessary to stain
my whole body, and not merely the ordinary visible pzmts* as JL'

"VICTORY TO THE GODS!”

lOI

feared that later on I might have to undergo a detailed physical
examination. Then came the question of eyes. My eyes are
blue, such as one never finds in the Orient, and this was likely
r to prove the weakest p^int of my disguise. For this I had a
twofold remedy. In the first place I sliced open a lemon,
specially brought along fcr this purpose, and squeezed the juice
into my eyes. Though sharply painful and likely to irritate
the eyeball, ^epion-juice serves to give the eyes—temporarily,
at least—a much darker hue. For further security, however, I
employed the glue and dark goggles. I pretended to have
contracted a sharp attack of snow-blindness, and dabbed
copious amounts of glue and mucilage under the eyelids in
imitation of the secretions which customarily result from this
trouble, and, furthermore, wore the dark goggles as a pretended
protection against the glare of the sun. This excuse would
pass muster, as snow-blindness is so common in Tibet as not
to call up special comment. The next thing to be done was to
wrap up all my European clothes and other incriminating
articles, and secrete them under a rock. It may.be that some
future traveller to Tibet will find them in years to come and
wonder how such things came to be placed in this far-away
corner of the world.

About nine o’clock we started on our first day’s march inside
of Tibet itself. Needless to say, I was full of very mixed
emotions. That day we were due to come in contact with the
Tibetan outposts and were to have a chance of proving whether
or not my carefully-thought-out plans of disguise were to be
effective—and so much depended upon their effectiveness.
After a short descent the path gradually rose again until we
were on the top of a second pass, only a few feet lower than the
pass which we had crossed the preceding day. From this point
the road—^if it could be dignified by this name—descended
gradually over a gently-sloping plain, which stretched for miles
ahead of us and which led down to the Kampa Basin. So
gradual is the descent, and so even the surface of the plain,
that almost any part of it could be used for motor traffic. The
thought came to me of the extensive use which is now being
• made on the Mongolian plains of light cars going from Kajgan,
only a few miles north of Peking, to Uiga, the Mongolian
capital (where also resides a living Buddha, directly connected

102

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

with the Tibetan hierarchy), and I wondered whether or not,
in the not far distant future, some use could be made of the
ubiquitous Ford across the plains of Jibet. Owing to the
difficulties of my own situation, it stride me as grotesquely
comic that perhaps, in future years, when the fanaticism of the
ecclesiastical part of the population ha(i' been appeased, a party
of tourists, shepherded by Messrs. Thomas Cook & Son, might
motor their way from the pass to the threshold q^he Potala,
where the Dalai Lama sits enthroned. Only let me advise
such future travellers never to try the journey in winter, when
the thermometer hovers between 30"^ and 40° below zero, and
the cutting winds slice their way to one’s bones.

As I had come to expect, we found only sparse patches of
snow upon the plain, but this absence of snow only served to
accentuate the bleak and desolate nature of the country.
There, stretching mile after mile, was to be found no sign of
trees, bushes, or human habitation. The constant alternation
of midday heat with night cold had broken up even the rocks
into a sandy soil, with a sprinkling of small pebbles, and had
eaten away the angles of occasional low-lying hills into an even,
monotonous downhke formation. There was only one colour
to everything : a dark and dirty yellow, alleviated only by the
brilliant snowy peaks of the Himalaya ranges, which now lay
safely behind us.

At first it seemed as if the plain was completely lifeless—
devoid of both fauna and flora. Soon we began to meet with
occasional herds of antelope, which seemed to be grazing upon
nothing but the sand and pebbles of the plain, but I then
noticed that here and there, almost hidden in the soil, was a tiny
tuft of coarse grass, to the casual observer invisible owing to its
smallness, its scarcity, and its drabness of colour, hiding itself
as if ashamed of its very existence, or desirous of detracting
notice from its weary struggle to live.

So cleverly designed was the coating of the antelopes, so
much were they in harmony with their surroundings, that they
too were almost invisible until we were practically upon them,
and they turned to flee, showing us a tiny tuft of white hair
at the t^l, like a vanishing wisp of snow. It was possible for
us to get a good look at these dainty animals owing to their
astonishing fearlessness* In Tibet firearms are scarce, and the

“VICTORY TO THE GODS!”

103

clumsy bows and arrows of the natives are useful only at very
short range ; so that Ithe wild animals of Tibet have not yet
learned to flee at the distant sight of men. Besides this, hunting
is strictly forbidden b'^ the Tibetan Government, on religious
grounds, as being inconsonant with the mercy inculcated by
the Buddha, and this prohibition is on the whole fairly well
observed, so that the herds of antelope and other wild animals
are pretty'^umerous, and surprisingly lacking in timidity.
Several times that morning the graceful animals were within
a stone’s-throw—^until suddenly “ Satan ” broke into a pil¬
grim’s song. The antelopes seemed to have regarded his voice
as a most deadly missile, for they soon scattered ; and on the
whole I was inclined to agree with them.

We went along fairly leisurely. Our pack-animals were so
weakened by their long privations that I was afraid of driving
them too hard, and as they had been without proper food for so
long, we halted now and then to allow them to crop the poor
stunted wisps of grass which the antelope herds had shown us.
Both ponies were tottering, and we were forced to walk the
whole way.

We were going on our way quite unconcernedly, having seen
no signs of human habitations, when suddenly a narrow dip
in the broad plain, the bed of a long-dried-up and forgotten
river, brought to view a little village. We were only a hundred
yards away when we saw it, and unfortunately at the same
time some of its inhabitants espied us and called out almost
immediately, so that it was impossible to make a detour.

I quickly whispered to " Satan ” and Lhaten to lead the way
while I and the others came on with the transport. The
village in question turned out to be what is called the Chinese
outpost, for during the period of Chinese influence in Tibet,
which only ended in 1912, it was the custom of the Chinese
governors to keep at this point a small detachment of soldiers
to act as a sort of pass guard. The Chinese have departed and
their fort has partly fallen into ruin. In the summertime the
Tibetans themselves always place an official or two here to
examine any traveller who may come over the passes. But the
passes are only supposed to be open during the summer months;
in winter aU traffic between Sikkim and Tibet, certainly along
this route, is closed, and the ofiicials and their underlings are

104 TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

withdrawn to the great castle of Kampa Dzong, still several
miles away.

On arriving at the village, therefore, we were lucky enough
to have no one deputed to examine us o:^, cially. Nevertheless,
I was in a great fright lest someone sh juld detect something
unusual in my appearance, so I hid myself amongst our animals
as much as I could, and we stopped only long enough to
purchase a small supply of food. /

It was a poor, meagre little village, hardly abte to support
itsdf, and could provide us with very little, so it was necessary
for us to push on to Kampa Dzong that same evening. Owing
to my whispered orders, we did not even stop to eat our food
in this village, but, placing it in our wallets, we hurried off,
making an excuse that we wished to get to Kampa Dzong as
soon as possible.

Curiously enough, we learned from the headman, who sold us
our tsampa, or barley-flour, that there were in this same village
two Tibetan peasants who, having urgent business in Lachen,
had attempted to cross this pass mto Sikkim a few days
previously, but owing to the snowstorm had been forced to
turn back. One of them had contracted pneumonia and was
then in a dymg condition. This fact impressed upon us more
forcibly the great danger which we had run and the almost
miraculous nature of our escape from death while labouring
in the passes.

The inhabitants of this village were even dirtier than the
average run of Tibetans ; there was a thick coating of grime
on every one of their faces, but considering the cold and the
misery of their lives, one could scarcely blame them. Since
leaving Lachen we also had not deigned to wash and we seemed
on a fair way to equal these natives in the extent of dirtiness,
given time enough. The dirt, the cold, and the misery seemed
to have eaten into the very souls of these poor beings, and they
had all that dead, dull, sodden look of a peasantry long since
in their decline; but since it prevented them noticing anything
unusual in my appearance, I was quite satisfied to find them as
they were.

The village itself, with its twenty or thirty straggling houses,
was of typically Tibetan design, forming a violent contrast to
the Sikkim villages we had passed en route. In the lower, or

“VICTORY TO THE GODS!”

the inhabited, part of S^ikkim, most of the houses are niad ^g
bamboo or wood, the rtiof being sometimes of thatch. In the
pass country, one sometimes finds semi-log cabins, though in
Lachen most of the houffils were made of stone ; but in aU cases
"in Sikkim and the passrcountry the roofs have all a marked
slant, in order to enable tljem to throw off the summer rain and
the winter snow.

In Tibet i^elf, where trees of any sort are a rarity, and
bamboos completely unknown, there are no houses built m
the Sikkimese fashion, but the buildings in this first little village
were even more typically Tibetan, inasmuch as they were all
built of sun-dried brick. Tibet has sufficient clay soil to render
brickmaking fairly easy, but owing to the absence of coal, oil,
and wood, which would serve as fuel for brick-kilns, the Tibetan
peasants are forced to rely upon the heat of sun-rays to give
their roughly-formed bricks sufficient hardness to use for
building purposes. In a rainy climate, such as is found on
the south side of the Himalayas, these bricks would quickly
wash away, but in the dry, rarefied air of Tibet they last
indefinitely.

Another striking evidence of the dryness of the Tibetan
climate is to be found in the flatness of the roofs. In contrast
with the sloping roofs of Sikkim, which are in keeping with the
hiU-and-vaUey formation of the country, the fiat, even forma¬
tion of the Tibetan house-tops seems but a continuation or
imitation of the broad Tibetan plains, save that they are
rendered picturesque by having placed at each corner the
prayer-tufts and prayer-flags which flutter in the wind. Each
flutter is as. a prayer which rises to the gods and brings super¬
natural protection to the house and its inhabitants.

The whole village had by now assembled around our little
caravan, and showed such a lively curiosity in the travellers
who had been able to get through the dreaded winter passes
that I left “ Satan ” and Lhaten to conclude the bargaining,
and with the rest of the party and the transport started at once
in the direction of Kampa Dzong. We moved slowly, and half,
an hour later we were joined by the other two. A mile or two
beyond the village we again halted, and sat down to enjoy the
first good meal which we had had for some considerable time
—^good, that is, as regards quantity.

io6

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

While still sitting over the remains, me were overtaken by
one or two of our villager friends, who vere on their way to the
monastery which lay in the direction of Kampa Dzong. They
came over to us to continue the conv|rsation of the morning.
I was still fearfully self-conscious, and cjuld not believe that my
disguise would hold good, and as they approached I immediately
rushed away, pretending to attend to the animals, which
in their attempt at grazing had wandered a littl^it away. I
did not dare return until our new acquaintances had safely
departed. We learned they were carrying a new flag to present
to the monastery on behalf of the poor man who was dying of
pneumonia. He was hoping that this present might enable
him to acquire enough merit to secure a longer span of life, or,
if fate was against him and he was destined for death, that he
might have a felicitous rebirth, for it seemed he had led a some¬
what merry life, and had dreamed that he was, in punishment,
to be reborn as a louse. I pitied the poor man, but could not
help feeling that in Tibet the lice—and there are plenty of them
—lead a happier existence than the men.

We had now to decide upon our own further plans for the day.
Lack of provisions and insufiicient knowledge of the road made
it necessary for us to go on to Kampa Dzong, but this necessary
visit filled me with uneasy forebodings. Kampa Dzong is not
only the capital of a large district, but it is also the official gate¬
way to this part of Tibet. There are placed the governors of
the district and all of their official underlings. Trouble to us
might arise from any or all of these people, particularly as the
Kampa Dzong officials had several times been brought in
touch with white men and knew a good deal of their ways.
In years past Kampa Dzong officials had turned back
several would-be explorers, but on two occasions they had
been forced to organize a reception committee on a
large scale.

The first was in 1903, when the British-Indian Government,
anxious to enter into diplomatic negotiations with Tibet and
bring about a peaceful conclusion to the points of dispute
between the two countries, organized a special commission
headed by Major (now Col. Sir Francis) Younghusband, with
orders to proceed to the Tibetan frontier and get into touch
with some special envoys sent from Lhasa.

"VICTORY TO THE GODS!”

107

Escorted by some^ two hundred native soldiers, the
Commissioner came up‘to Tibet through Lachen, and brushing
aside the few Tibetan spldiers who attempted to bar his way,
crossed the boundary |ass, and in July camped just before
Kampa Dzong. ^

Four weary months were spent by this party waiting for the
arrival of responsible Tibetan officials from Lhasa with whom
negotiations bould be conducted, but these failed to appear,
and in their place some nine thousand Tibetan soldiers were
hurried to the neighbourhood and threatened to attack the
British party unless it withdrew.

Eventually the commission was recalled; but in its place
there was organized the more elaborate Younghusband Expedi¬
tion of 1904, whose actions have already been summarized.
The 1904 mission did not extend the march from Kampa
Dzong, but entered Tibet through the Chumbi Valley, and from
there marched on to Gyangtse.

The second occasion was the friendly reception Kampa Dzong
was forced to give the two Everest Expeditions. Since 1912,
when Tibet threw off Chinese overlordship and claimed absolute
independence, the Tibetan Court has lain under several obliga¬
tions to the Indian Government, the nature of which will be
discussed at more length hereafter. In return, the Tibetans
have been forced to make several concessions. One of these
was to permit a climbing-party to skirt the northern base of
the Himalayas from Pair to the foot of Mount Everest. In
the course of their interesting and valuable scientific work, the
members of this party were not permitted to strike into the
interior, but in their progress along the southern fringe of Tibet
they stopped for several days in Kampa Dzong, and even used
it as a sort of base.

Unfortunately, the fact that Kampa Dzong had thus been
brought into contact with Europeans hindered rather than aided
me. The Everest Expedition had been armed with special
passports from the Dalai Lama, and the local officials had been
forced to concede them hospitality. Not only had such pass¬
ports been refused to me, but I had been especially ordered out
of the country, and as there was a shrewd suspicion that I
would make some such venture as I was actually doing, the
officials had been told to keep “ an eye open.” In the interior,

io8

TO LHASA IN DISC OISE

where the simple villagers had only alVague idea of what a
European looked like, other than that We skin was white, I felt
that disguise might not be so difficult, but in Kampa Dzong they
were acquainted with European featiltres, in which cast, in ~
spite of my disguise, my own features Irun.

Our sudden arrival in the depths of^vinter was sure to cause
some comment, and I wanted to have any inquiry which might
be made over and done with before I arrived. /Consequently
I sent “ Satan ” and Lhaten on to the town in advance, to
purchase supplies and to hire a room in the rest-house for the
night. “ Satan ” was to say that his baggage and animals and
the remainder of his servants would come on later. The syce,

" Diogenes,” and I were to stay hidden by the roadside until
sunset, and thus be able to enter the town after dark.

Accordingly “ Satan ” and Lhaten set off, “ Satan ” riding
" Lhasa,” the youngest pony, which was still reasonably strong,
as he wished to arrive in Kampa Dzong attended by a little
state, while we sat down for our long wait. Before long we were
troubled by the rising of one of the wild Tibetan winds. The
Tibetan winds have become famous from the stories which
every Tibetan explorer has brought back concerning them.
The bare open formation of the country offers these winds
great opportunity for sweeping along unchecked, and a
gale blowing at a hundred miles an hour is by no means
uncommon.

For some curious meteorological reason unknown to me, these
winds become much stronger in the afternoon. Sometimes the
whole morning will be absolutely calm and about one-thirty
o’clock a breeze will set in which by three-thirty or four o’clock
will have developed into a hurricane. The winds have a ten¬
dency to die down soon after sunset, but sometimes continue
until 'far into the night.

They are generally regarded as the most terrible and devasta¬
ting, steady winds toown anywhere in the world. The cutting
gales pierce every form of clothing and remove the little layer
of warm air which ordinarily surrounds the body, rendering
frostbite a constant and a very real danger. It is to counteract
this that the Tibetan preserves on his body the layer of dirt and
grease which renders him so obnoxious, but which is really the
finest natural clothing he could secure.

“VICTORY TO THE GODS!”

109

On this particular a^ernoon, situated as we were on the great
plain without any prWection, the wind caused us great dis¬
comfort and we felt per^hingly cold. We arranged our luggage
in a little semicircle an^ then crawled into this and curled up.
This arrangement offered us partial protection. The syce and
“ Diogenes ” fell fast a^ep, while I got out a Tibetan text or
two and started to read—something quite out of keeping with
my new role^pf coolie, for it is only the higher priests in Tibet
who can even attempt to read and write.

My literary activities very nearly led me into serious trouble.
A small party, making its way from Kampa Dzong to the out¬
post village, saw our little camp and came over to find out who
we were. Owing to the wind, they were right over us before
we became aware of their existence, and they at once started
asking questions I did not dare answer, and I began chanting
the text, as if I were carrying on a religious service which could
not be interrupted. At the same time I kicked the syce awake,
so that he could carry on the necessary conversation, which he
did. A very fine tale indeed he spun. The interview must
have proved entertaining to both parties, for to me at least it
seemed to last interminably, and while it lasted I dared not
relax my chanting for a single minute. Fortunately, the text
proved wearisomely long, and in common with most Buddhist
sutras, or religious discourses, full of repetitions, so I could
continue with my bellowing until the small party was once more
safely on its way.

CHAPTER k.

THE DISGUISE TESTED

In accordance with our plan, towards sunset we started on
our way to the fortress-town, but we had several weary hours
before we reached it. In the first place, we had under-estimated
the distance covered, and, secondly, we were considerably
delayed owing to the collapse of '' Shigatse,'' our second pony.
He had fought the good fight well, but starvation and piercing
cold had mortally weakened him, and at last he refused to go a
step farther. I was very loath to lose him, and I thought that
if we could only get him to Kampa Dzong, where shelter and
good food awaited, he might yet recover. By alternate
pushings and pullings we managed to get him another half-mile
on the way, but in the end he died under our eyes despite all our
efforts. Already overloaded as they were, it was impossible to
add another pound to the weight carried by the other animals,
so I was forced to abandon, with the dead pony, his saddle and
one of our saddle-bags which he was carrying. Our travelling
equipment had been reduced to what seemed an absolute
minimum, but bit by bit we were being forced to dispense with
a ^ood part of even this minimum. The discarded saddle,
incidentally, was of good English make and had cost a pretty
penny. In Tibet, for the most part, in spite of the abundance
of yak-hides which can be made into excellent leather, the
saddles are constructed of wood. The wooden saddles of the
richer classes are inlaid with coral and turquoise, the favourite
jewels of the Tibetan, and some are of really pretty workman¬
ship, though insufferably hard, so that it is the custom to lay
a number of carpets of native make on top of the saddle to ease
the rider's seat. When saddled, a Tibetan pony, therefore,
appears to have imitated a dromedary and grown a huge
hump on its back.

XIO

Ill

theIdisguise tested

In recent years, owinl to their greater lightness and compact¬
ness, a number of lealrer saddles have been imported from
India by the Tibetan gentry; and they are quite frequently
used by the Sikkimes^so that the fact that we had such a
' saddle would not necess^ily lead to exposure, but at the same
time I did not dare take\he spare saddle on to Kampa Dzong
in order to sell it there, for by attracting attention to it suspicion
might have be^en aroused.

Once the pony had been left behind, our journey became
easier, and I was able to appreciate more fully the marvellous
beauty of the night. The moon had risen, its light casting a
magic spell over the land. The desolation of the place seemed
softened, and far off in the distance the indistinct mass of the
mighty Himalayas reflected from their many snowy crests a
soft yellow sapphire radiance, while the moaning of the wind
seemed like the eerie voices of goblins hovering above us.

About a mile or so outside the town we were met by Lhaten.
He had become frightened by our failure to arrive, and had come
back along the roadway to see if he could trace us, and at the
t;amp time to tell us how he and “ Satan ” had fared during the
day. The offlcials had heard of their arrival, and they had been
interrogated as to who they were and what they were doing; but
they had allowed nothing to leak out about me, and as it seemed
perfectly natural that transport animals, exhausted by their
efforts in the snow, should not arrive until later, my two ser¬
vants were dismissed by the officials and allowed to go on with
the purchase of provisions in the little market of Kampa.

Here a httle problem presented itself. I had exhausted my
ten-rupee and smaller notes in Lachen, and had given Lhaten
a hundred-rupee note {£y los. approximately) with which to
purchase our supplies. Some difficulty was found in securing
change for this amount.

Rupees, of course, are Indian currency, but as Sikkim has no
currency of its own, rupees have gradually become the standard
medium of exchange. Quite a number of Tibetan traders go
down to India to seU Tibetan wool, and bring back cheap goods
to Tibet, and the Tibetan merchants have also become accus¬
tomed to the handling of rupees. In some cases, even, they
prefer them to their own currency, but in most cases transac¬
tions are carried out with the ten-rupee note, which is

remarkably like the note of loo rupees ii size and in appearance.
To an Oriental the addition of a cyphel] or so means nothing, as
anyone acquainted with Indian chrono^f )gy well knows, so Lhaten
had great difficulty in getting the Kampa merchants to believe
that there really was a difference betvAen his note and the more
usual ten-rupee note. Even when tl^‘s was done, he discovered
that none of the merchants was rich enough to change this
stupendous figure. In the end, three or four o:^the wealthiest
had to club together and buy the note, giving an equivalent
heap of Tibetan coins in exchange.

The basis of money in Tibet is the trangka, approximately
five of which, according to present rates of exchange, make a
rupee, or is. 3^., so that a trangka is about a fourth of a shilling.
These are supposedly made of silver, but of silver so debased
that 1 wondered if empty tin cans did not form a large item in
the purchases of the Lhasa mint, where these and all other
Tibetan coins are made. Even trangkas are somewhat rare,
and most of the peasants concern themselves only with the
smaller divisions of the trangka. These smaller denominations
are coined from various copper alloys. The most important
are:

1. The kakang, or one-sixth of a trangka.

2. The karmanga, or one-third of a trangka.

3. The chegya, or one-half of a trangka,

4. The shokang, or two-thirds of a trangka.

This curious division of the unit results in a good deal of
extraordinary calculation in Tibet, where the peasants are
completely lacking in a mathematical sense, and I wondered
why it had not been changed. But until Great Britain
and the United States have adopted the metric system, and
Great Britain the decimal system, these countries can
scarcely say anything about Tibetan backwardness in
this regard,

Lhaten kept me shivering in the cold for some time explaining
how things had gone, but once I found that everything was safe
I insisted on pushing on, and not long afterwards we came
under the great gloomy castle and entered the little town which
lies at its foot. In accordance with instructions, Satan and
Lhaten had found lodgings in a little rest-house on the outskirts

THE DISGUISE TESTED

113

of the Kampa Dzong, that, once arrived at the town, we had
not far to go.

By chance we had colie to Kampa Dzong at the time when a
local fair was held. This was largely attended by the small
traders and peasantry %f the surrounding villages. The town
rest-houses were all cc^pletely full. '' Satan/' indeed, as
master, was allowed to share a room in the house itself with one
or two petty^ merchants, but the other servants and I were
forced to spend the night on the roof. This, being, of course,
flat, caused no great inconvenience, except that it exposed us to
the terrible night cold. Although sleeping inside, Satan ”
took advantage of his position to procure all of our best
blankets, so that we were forced to face the night with but a
single blanket apiece—no small matter when the thermometer
registered 30° below zero !

Lhaten and the other two servants prepared themselves for
this ordeal by going down to the communal-room—used as a
kitchen—underneath, and taking a hot and stupendous supper,
washed down by huge draughts of chang, or Tibetan beer,
which they also dranlr hot. I had not yet acquired enough
courage to face the crowd that gathers in every Tibetan inn,
and remained on the cold roof, telling Lhaten to say that I was
ill and had to go to bed immediately. On this excuse he
managed to bring some food up to me. Anyone who noticed
must have thought that, for an invalid, I ate surprisingly well,
but it must not be forgotten that we came very near starvation
in the passes, and in my joy at seeing food again, I wanted to
devour everything in sight.

The festivities downstairs continued for some time, and as I
lay on the roof shivering with cold, I was fearful every moment
that, in their bibulous merriment, the servants might let fall
some words as to the true nature of things. I had given orders
for an early start the next morning, however, so before long
the party came up the rickety ladder and settled down to sleep.
Soon their snores told me that, for the next few hours at least,
they were not likely to get into mischief.

I was less fortunate in my attempts at repose. The cold,
which increased hour by hour, was so insistent that every time
I dozed off it seemed to claw me awake again. Besides the
nervous excitement of the venture, the responsibility which it

II4 TO LHASA IN DISGJISE

entailed prevented that relaxation wbch was necessary for
sleep, and at last giving np the job asrbiopeless, I sat up and
surveyed the moonlight panorama. TKe kindly night hid the
dirtiness of the streets, and made the castle which loomed on
the hill appear very impressive.

These castles, or dzongs, as they are' tailed in Tibetan (hence
the name Kampa Dzong), fill such a prominent place in the
landscape and life of Tibet that a special word must be said
about them. A great deal of Tibet is inhabited by nomads
who make no attempt at agriculture, and eke out a scanty
existence by moving about with their flocks of sheep and yaks.
Over such people the Central Lhasa Government has a scanty
and only indirect control. Where, however, the nomads have
given way to small settled communities engaged in trade, or in
agriculture, an attempt has been made to set up a definite
system of government, partially modelled on the old bureau¬
cratic regime of China, but very largely modified to suit the
ecclesiastical nature of the whole of the Tibetan political
organization.

CHAPTER XI

PROVINCIAL GOVERNMENT

At the present time Tibet is divided into fifty-three ad¬
ministrative districts, of which fifty are ordinary and three
are extraordinary, and each such district has some town or
village which has been chosen to serve as the local capital
or centre of administration. In nearly all such cases the
Governors reside in a great fortress castle, built as far as possible
of stone, and placed on the summit of a small hill commanding
a view of the surrounding plains. At the base of this hill is
situated the village itself. The castles are for the most part
really imposing-looking places, and although, as the events of
1904 showed, incapable of with.standing bombardment by
modern artillery, they are, or should be, practically impreg¬
nable against any attack by men armed with only bows and
arrows, or even rifles. But their massiveness is not only
designed to protect them against attack from an invading army,
but also to inspire awe in the hearts of the peasantry of the
district, making them the more willing to obey all orders issued
by the officials appointed from Lhasa.

In many cases these castles owe their origin to conditions
similar to those which brought about the erection of the castles
on the Rhine and other parts of Europe, and were constructed
by local chieftains who had a close resemblance to the robber
barons of the European Middle Ages. The lord chieftains
have been gradually ousted by the centralized Lhasa Govern¬
ment, and the seats of former semi-independent overlords
transformed into residences for the centrally-appointed
Governors. A few castles are comparatively modem in origin
and have been built for their present purpose by the Govern¬
ment, but in close imitation of the older robber fortresses,

ii6 TO LHASA IN DIS(^ISE

while, on the other hand, one finds all over Tibet ruins of
former stately castles and prosperou| villages which have
gradually fallen into decay. '

The interior of these castles, as I found out afterwards, is
dirty, dark, Hi-shaped, and in many c*es, owing to structural
defects, really unsafe, but their ejSerior, especially when
viewed from a distance, strikes one as magnificent, and displays
a talent and a taste for architecture which seems entirely out
of keeping with the degraded and barbarous state of the
Tibetans. I have wondered whether these buildings might
not reflect a former period of culture which has since been lost
But in this connection the recent history of Gyangtse and Pari
deserves to he brought to mind. As the results of the Young-
husband Expedition, both Gyangtse and Pari Dzongs were
razed to the ground, and it was part of the treaty signed by
Tibet that neither of these citadels should be rebuilt.

Strict observance of treaties is by no means a strong point
in Tibetan character, and a few years later the authorities set
about rebuilding these castles. The English Government
being then in the hands of the Liberals, nothing was done to
stop this procedure, and both these castles have now been
completely rebuilt, and on quite as grand a scale as previously,
so that at one stroke the Tibetans have once more justified
their reputation as architects and treaty-breakers.

An excellent instance of the double nature of the Tibetan
Government is to be found in the fact that each administrative
district is governed by two Governors, one of them a monk and
the other a layman. Needless to say, the monk Governor
ranks higher than his lay brother-official, although the power
is divided pretty equally between them. In Tibet it is only
the priesthood who are taught to read and write, and although
the lay Governor may have picked up the rudiments of writing,
it is the monk Governor who has charge of all official corres¬
pondence, while the layman is charged with the supervision
of purely business affairs.

The salary of both officials is small, but both become
enormously wealthy during their term of office, for bribery and
corruption are rampant in every part of Tibetan public life.
The officials have practically unlimited powers of extortion-
powers which they are by no means loath to us©—and huge

PROVCNCIAL GOVERNMENT 117

monetary bribes are paid to the higher officials m Lhasa in order
to secure the post of Governor in a particularly wealthy district.
Ordinarily the Gover.’ors are appointed for a period of five
years, although this period of office may be shortened or
prolonged, and it is quite customary for Governors to be
transferred from one d'Strict to another at the expiry of their
term of office, from the fear lest one man, by residing too long
m any one place and gaining too great control over it, should
be tempted to break away from the Central Government and
form a little principality of his own. In fact, the Governors
possess enormous powers of local self-government, and,
especially in the outlying districts, have very little to do witli
the higher Lhasa authoiities, except to send once a year a
small fixed tribute to the capital—a tiibute which is chiefly
paid in kind : barley, butter, or wool.

By good fortune, just at the time when I came to Kampa
Dzong, one of the Governors, by far the more active of the two,
was away in Shigatse on a visit, and his absenci^ probal^ly
influenced the .slovenly way in which my servants had licen
questioned by the officials that afternoon. Life is indeed
deadly dull in the outlying Tibetan towns, and when tlie
winter months come, suspending all agricultural work, and
thereby all chances of monetary gain on the part of the officials,
it is not uncommon for one or other of tlic Governors of the
smaller districts to discover some urgent business, or a dying
relative, which takes him to the gayer life of Shigatse or Lhasa.
Later on I came across several cases where a y<mng Governor,
who had powerful connections in Lhasa, practically never saw
the district over which he was .supposed to rule. Me appointed
some retainer to act as deputy to collect the moneys, wliile the
young aristocrat enjoyed his amusements in the capital.

Too much landscape, whether in literature or in life, is apt
to prove very wearying and sleep-inducing, so after 1 had
gazed my full at the castle, the sleeping village, and the broad
plain around, I once more lay down to sleep, and this time with
more success. But my night’s rest was very short, for accord¬
ing to plan I got up very early next morning and, accompanied
by Lhatcn, left the village before it was light, being still afraid
that if the Tibetans got too good a look at me they would
penetrate my disguise. The syce, “ Diogenes,” and “ Satan ”

ii8 TO LHASA IN DISC^UISE

were left behind to see that the animals were loaded, to pay
the rest-house charges, and to start as soon as it was dawn.
Such an early start is by no means u/msual in Tibet, and I
found that, early as we were, one or two of our fellow-lodgers
had already departed. We crossed over the little stream from
which the Kampa Dzong inhabitants g^ their water, but which
at this time of the year is practically one block of ice, and went
on for another mile and a half, then halted for a moment
to get a last backward look at Kampa Dzong, over which
the sun was just rising. The day was remarkably fine in
contrast to the cloudy weather we had experienced the last
several days, and the young, fresh rays of the sun cast a pink
radiance over the peaks of the Himalayas, which to the south
now stretched in perfect visibility on both sides to seeming
infinity. It was far and away the finest view I had ever seen,
and even so stolid and humdrum a person as myself had to
pause to drink in its grandeur. Here at last the Himalaya
was no mere geographical name, but a living reality, seemingly
aware of its own serene greatness. From no part of India is
it possible to gain so general a view of the mighty range, for
the great altitudes of the highest peaks are rendered apparently
less than the actual by the gradually-ascending foothills, and
it is impossible to see more than a few miles on either side.
Furthermore, the constant humidity of the southern slopes
brings about cloud-caps which more often than not render the
topmost peaks invisible. Here, on the other hand, the great
mountains rose sharp and clear from the dead level of the
Kampa Plain to their greatest height. The dry crystal
Tibetan atmosphere brought out every detail into relief, and
it almost seemed as if at a glance one could see the whole of
the long stretch of mountains. To the east was Chumolhari;
to the south Kanchenjao and Chumiomo, between which we
had battled with the snow; and to the west Mount Everest,
the highest mountain in the world.

It is curious to note that even the great ocean tides pay their
tribute to the massiveness of the Himalayas. Colonel Waddell
was the first to point out that the stupendous projecting mass
of the Himalayas exemplifies the earth's attraction and
pulls the sea-level of the Bay of Bengal some distance up its
sides, so that in sailing to Calcutta one is actually sailing uphill.

PRO-VINCIAL GOVERNMENT 119

It is probably known generally that, geologically speaking,
the Himalayas are of very recent formation, being the last great
range of mountains to be formed. Whereas we ourselves belong
to the Quaternary period of the earth’s history, the Himalayas
rose about the middle of the preceding or Tertiary period,
while to an earlier por .pn of the same period are ascribed the
Alps, the Pyrenees, and the great range of mountains in the
west of both North and South America, which are known in
different parts by widely-differing names. To a far earlier
period, the Primary, belong the low-lying mountains of Wales,
Scotland, Scandinavia, and the mountains of the eastern portion
of America.

We halted for some time here waiting for our main party to
come up, but as they appeared to be delayed, Lhaten and I
went our way across the Kampa Plain. Running diagonally
across it, we could see the streak of silver which marked the
frozen river. This ran for several miles to the west before it
turned south and, passing through a gap in the Himalayas,
poured down through Nepal to India and the sea. It was very
interesting to me to note that, high and stupendous as the
Himalayas are, they form no true watershed, and that the
waters of the Kampa and its allied plains, finding no other
outlet, have eaten a way through even that massive wall of
rock. Our road, however, now turned to the north and we
soon left the river behind us.

Needless to say, the Tibetan officials never dream of spending
a penny on roads, and the so-called “ roads ” are nothing more
than tracks on the plains, which have been made by the passage
of the mules and yaks of the small caravans which are con¬
stantly going to and fro all over Tibet, Were it not for the
terrible climate, the cold winds, and the absence of fertilizing
moisture, these great plains would be ideal spots for agricultural
cultivation. The soil itself is excellent and practically virgin.
But Lhaten, who, though a Tibetan, had travelled extensively
in India, expressed his interest in the great contrast there
was between the life on the Indian plains and here on
the Tibetan plateau. In India one would see such a fiat
country teerning with life, cut into paddy-fields, and at
every few miles a cosy village half-hidden behind a clump
of bush, while here there was neither field, nor village, nor

120

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

any sign of life, for now even Kampa Dzong was safely
hidden from sight.

Soon we came to a place where the rcfed broke into three, aU
of which would in the end lead us to Shigatse, but as I had no
idea which one was most direct, and as I was afraid that our
m ain party would not know which tra'lk to follow, I sat down
to await its arrival. We had not long to wait, for soon I caught
sight of our animals with “ Satan,” of course, riding our one
remaining pony, but I was very puzzled to see not two but four
men following behind. On catching sight of us, " Satan ”
spurred his pony on ahead, and as soon as he was within speak¬
ing distance I asked who the two strangers were.

To my utter astonishment, he told me that they were two
Kampa Dzong peasants whom he had hired to act as coolies to
carry the food-supplies he had bought the preceding day, as he
did not wish to overload the mules. This news was completely
staggering, and for the first and only time while on the way to
Lhasa I lost my temper. I explained very forcibly, and with
frequent reference to his genealogical table, according to the
immemorial custom of the East, how many kinds of a fool
he was, and in what great danger he had brought the whole
venture. I had ordered quite a large supply of food and grain
to be purchased in Kampa Dzong expressly in order that we
might be able to keep away from all villages until we came to
Shigatse. I thought my disguise might be good enough to pass
muster with any chance travellers we met on the road, but was
afraid of the close contact that halting amongst Tibetans might
entail, and now here was " Satan ” actually bringing Tibetans
along with us, men with whom I should have to carry on long
conversations—far worse than merely halting at towns each
evening and starting early the next morning before sunrise.

It was even impossible to stay where we were and talk the
matter over, for our new servants were almost up with us. I
ordered Lhaten to stay behind and halt the caravan for a few
minutes on the excuse of shifting the loads of the mules, while
I went on with " Satan ” and argued out what was to be done.
The mules were indeed overloaded, but it was better that they
and we should carry a few extra pounds until we got to Shigatse,
a noted train-animal market, than that we should needlessly
run chances of detection. Little did I guess the many more

(JYANCJKSi:, Tin: third city of tiblt and the cadi tad

On the hill in the left backutound is the castle, and m the lorejiround oi

Choi ten shrine

Oh’ Tiu: pkoviNci:
the rljujht is the Oolden

PROVINCIAL GOVERNMENT

I2I

serious chances with which we were later to meet. In fact, I
would have preferred to leave some of our older equipment
behind than to carry along two spies with us. Having thus
concluded to rid myself of the two new servants who had been
thrust upon me, I had next to decide how this should be done.
It would undoubted]}^ seem strange to them to be arbitrarily
diwsmisscd a few hours after they had been hired, particularly
after the master had been seen in an animated conversation
with his mysterious servant, so I told Satan to go back and
tell them tliat they had only been hired because two ol his
servants, Lhaten and myself, had been so ill in the passes that
it was thought to be impossible for us to carry any heavy loads
for the next few days, but that the good food and rest we had
had ill Karapa Dzong had completely restored us, and conse¬
quently there was no longer any need for outside lielp—at the
same time they were to be paid the whole of their first day’s
wages.

Satan ” took my remarks in no very gracious manner and
attemped to argue, l3iit 1 was very emphatic abrjut the matter,
and as I began to linger my Bhutanese daggeu in a very notice¬
able way, he went back and carried out the necessary orrler.
Lhaten, always true and faithful, backed up Ins story, and the
Kampa coolies took their dismissal surprisingly mildly—partly,
no doubt, because they were by no means loath to return to the
local festivities which were then taking place in tlie district
capital—and before very long I was again joined by the wholcj
of my original party.

The disagreeable scene, however, was destined to have lasting
and unfortunate effects. My vocabulary of unpleasant Tibetan
words was fairly large, and I had made very full and effective
use of them towards Satan'' in explaining my atlitndc‘ with
regard to his action, and they very obviously rankled in his
devious soul. I had deeply injured his pride, and from that
time on he was practically my declared enemy. To senve his
own purposes and to fill his own purse, he consented to continue
to play his part, but he was only waiting for an opportunity to
humiliate me and to wreak vengeance. I was fortunate,
however, in having all the other servants against him. Tibetan
servants have curiously little loyalty to one another, and in the
present instance there was positive rancour on either side.

122

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

Generally speaking, Lhaten and the syce stood together as
against “ Satan.” The half-idiotic “ Diogenes ” formed a
third party, but the petty quips and persecutions to which
“ Satan ” subjected him gradually began to fill his slow, stupid
mind with a burning hatred that was hkely to prove terrible m
the end.

We now had to skirt a low-lying group of hills set in the centre
of the plain, and rounding these hills we suddenly came in sight
of no less than six villages, so that my impression of the absolute
lifelessness of Tibet had to be revised, particularly as all of these
villages appeared to be in quite a thriving condition. It was
impossible to avoid them as the road led right through four of
the villages, and not being quite sure of our way, we had even to
stop once or twice in order to find out first which tracks we were
to follow. Putting on a bold face, we marched right into their
midst, though I insisted on changing loads with “ Diogenes,”
who was carrying the bulkiest pack, as it was a fixed point in
my creed that no Tibetan would suspect the humblest, and
seemingly the most oppressed, member of a party of being a
European—such is the prestige the English have acquired even
in this Forbidden Land—and subsequent events went to justify
my belief.

As we stopped for a moment at one or two of the houses, I was
able to inspect them more carefully. Although equally filthy,
they were certainly better built than those of the first village
we struck in Tibet. Nearly all of the houses were two-storied,
and quite a number three-storied, for the Tibetan peasant i.s
no great advocate of the bungalow type of architecture, and as
it is customary for all of the branches of a family to live together
they can afford to have fairly large dwellings. They appear to
be even larger than they really are, as they are built around a
courtyard. Most of them have verandahs running around the
first or second floors, looking down into the courtyard, and in
many cases the staircases connecting the floors run from veran¬
dah to verandah, there being no connection between the various
stories on the inside of the house. These staircases are very
rickety affairs, generally mere step-ladders with small round
rungs made of unplaned smaller tree-branches. In nearly all
cases the ground floor of the house is used only for stables or
warehouses, with occasionally a room set aside as servants'

PROVINCIAL GOVERNMENT

123

quarters, the residential part being on the first or second floor.
Most frequently, I was told, the head of the family had the
highest room, as it was considered injurious to his dignity to
have anyone standing or sleeping above him—think of having
the feet of a servant just over the master’s head ! The houses
of the poorer villages are uncoloured, retaining the natural
mud-colour of the sun-dried bricks, but in these more pros¬
perous communities the dwellings had been colour-washed,
either white or red, with also an occasional blue.

Our inquiries as to the way were answered very satisfactorily,
and though we were asked who we were and where we were
going, no suspicions seemed to be aroused. In accordance with
my instructions, we always gave our destination as being merely
Shigatse, as I wished to avoid any mention of Lhasa. Our
experience in this village gave me a great deal of confidence.
The villagers obviously noticed nothing peculiar in my appear¬
ance, so that I was emboldened to think that, after all, the mad
venture we were on might meet with success, though we were
still far from our goal, and the attitude of “ Satan ” worried me
considerably. In any case, I intended taking no risks, and we
halted for lunch not in any of the villages, but a little beyond
them in an open space through which ran a little stream on its
way to join, much lower down, the river we had seen earlier in
the morning. Here, in this more protected part of the plain,
the ice was very thin, and I was able to break through it and
quench my thirst with the chill water flowing beneath.

My servants preferred to drink some ckang, or Tibetan barley-
beer, which wc had brought with us from Kampa Dzong. This
is really a very refreshing drink and very mild, seldom contain¬
ing as much as 4 per cent, of alcohol, and I would very willingly
have shared it with them, but for politic reasons I thought it
better to content my.self with water.

Owing to the great difficulties I found in persuading my
Tibetan servants to accompany me, a barbarian, to Lhasa, the
Holy of Holies, I found it very convenient to employ as much as
possible the honorary Buddhist priesthood which had been
granted me several years previously in Japan, as the result of
certain scholastic studies carried on there into Buddhist
literature and philosophy; and it was only by emphasizing
my lamaistic qualifications that I got my poor, superstitious

124

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

servants to follow me as faithfully as they did. In theory, a
good Buddhist priest does not drink any form of alcohol, and it
behoved me to play the part of lama to my own servants quite
as perfectly as the part of coolie to the general Tibetan popu¬
lace. “ Satan," indeed, though a priest, drank anything that
came his way, as does nearly every Sikkimese monk, as well as
those lamas in Tibet itself who belong to the older Red-hat or
unreformed sect; but such wine-bibbing is despised even by
the most drunken of the Sikkimese or Tibetan peasantry, who
always want their priests to be something better than they are
themselves. I am, therefore, led to think that a great deal of
the loyalty which my servants (with the exception of “ Satan ”)
showed towards me was the result of the little ccclcsiasticism T
was always careful to throw in from time to time.

On the present occasion I was able to get my own back with
a little irony. A tiny vest-pocket edition of Omar Khayy4in“
was one of the two English books I had with me, and while
sipping my water, I took out old Omar and chanted two or
three of his particularly-bibulous verses, while the servants,
who, of course, understood not a word, took it as part of some
religious service.

Once on our way again we rapidly neared the northern limit
of the Kampa Plain, and soon came upon another fork in the
road. To the left ran the road to the Sakya Monastery, while
to the right lay the more direct route to Shigatse.

The Sakya Monastery is one of the oldest existing Tibetan
monasteries and more than usually famous historically. Sakya
is renowned not only for its monastery and temple buildings, but
also for its great library with its ancient manascripts. The
town is built on the eastern slopes of the Ponpo-ri, around the
foot of which the River Tom flows. It is the home of the royal
Kdn family of Sakya, and apart from its temples and abbots is
not held in very high repute in Tibet, being notorious for thieves
and bandits, and its immorality.

Lhaten had once been to Sakya, and told me a good deal
about it. According to him the buildings of Sakya are strik¬
ing, being painted red with the clay obtained on the neighbour¬
ing mountains, and with black and blue perpendicular stripes.
There are four temples with Chinese-style roofs, the many
spires being gilded, and these in days gone by were ruled

PROVINCIAL GOVERNMENT 125

over by four abbots of hereditary rank who were allowed
to marry.

The books and manuscripts are on shelves along the walls of
the great hall, the volumes being 6 feet in depth and 18 inches
broad. They are bound with iron, and on the cardboard covers
of some arc innumerable images of Buddhas. The pages have
illuminated margins, the first four volumes having illustrations
of the thousand Buddhas. Some of the books are written in
gold. There are also books in Chinese.

Another interesting relic at the Lha-Kang cliempois a conch-
shell the whirls of which turn from left to right. Lamas alone
may blow it, and they do so only on receiving seven ounces of
silver. One acquires great merit by blowing or inducing a lama
to blow this shell.

Sakya monastery is chiefly famous, however, for the fact that
for many centuries it was the headquarters of the Tibetan
Government.

When Tibet emerged from absolute savagery in the seventh
century a.b. it was ruled by a line of hereditary kings. It was
these kings who introduced Buddhism and establislied the
earlier monasteries. As the number and power of tlie monks
increased, they became jealous of the temporal authority and
eventually overthrew it.

I had ill my mind to visit this famous place and then double
back to SbigatsiS, but careful thought convinced me that I had
better push on to Shigalse directly. Sooner or later my
prolonged absence from Darjeeling would arouse suspicion tliat
I had gone to Tibet, and if I was to get to Lhasa, it was neces¬
sary to get there quickly before too many rumours about me
could circulate. And so, taking the road to the right, we soon
began to climb the mountain range which forms the liounclary
of the Kampa Plain. Altliongh called a tableland, Tibet is
intersected by a number of mountain ranges, many of tliem of
considerable height, which break up its vast level expanse into
a number of flat-bottomed basins of various sizc.*s. These
basins also differ considerably as regards elevation. In the
great Changtang, the desert wilderness which lies to the north¬
west of Shigats^, only a small part of which is inhabited, the
beds of some of these basins lie over 17,000 feet above sea-level.
The Lhasa Plain for Tibet, comparatively low, being only

126 TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

some 12,000 feet high. The Kampa Plain, which is one of the
largest single basins, is about 15,000 feet above sea-level, as high
as the summit of Mont Blanc, the highest peak in Europe.
Occasionally, as between Tuna and Shigatse, these plains are
connected by valleys which make travelling comparatively
simple, but for the most part travelling in Tibet consists of long
marches along level plains interspersed with steep ascents and
descents of mountains which may be said to act as walls or sides
of the basins.

This particular divide proved very steep and very sandy, and
we found its ascent even more difficult than that of the Koru
Pass itself. All the morning I had insisted on “ Satan,” as the
master, mounting our one remaining riding-pony, but now even
he had to dismount and help us get the struggling pack-animals
through the huge sand-drifts in which they were hopelessly
struggling. Nearer the top we came across some long-lying
snow which had become frozen into a single icy block. For the
animals this proved still more difficult, so we had to go back to
our old custom and hack out steps and footholds for them. All
this took a good deal of time, and it was already three p.m.
before we got to the top. Here we found another gyatse, and
though no one was around, we carefully followed Tibetan cus¬
tom and added a stone to the little heap in front of the mountain
shrine and called on the gods for protection.

From here we could see below us another plain, similar to the
one from which we had just come, but on a smaller scale. No
villages were in sight, but grazing on the plain were several
herds of yak and sheep, with a number of herdsmen looking
after them.

It took us some time to get from our mountain pass down
to the bed of the plain, but once this task was accomplished, I
decided to halt for the night and to pitch our camp by the
side of a tiny frozen lake we found just at the base of the
mountain. Although invisible, I knew that a few miles farther
on, on the other side of the plain, lay a large village, the village
of Kuma, but I felt that the farther away we camped from
every village the safer we were.

We were still in contact with the herdsmen, but this I did not
mind. The herdsmen belonged to one of the nomad tribes, a
simple and kindly people, though many of them, especially in

128

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

because of the expense of the fuel, these butter-lamps are
chiefly used in religious buildings, and are but sparsely employed
by laymen. The Tibetan believes in going to bed with the sun,
and in an ordinary household artificial light is seldom required
During the last few years wax candles of European design have
been imported into the larger centres, such as Shigatse and
Lhasa, and the toAvnsmen are taking to the use of them ; but
they remain entirely secular, and it would be considered
blasphemous to burn a candle before a sacred image.

As a decoration for the temple, or family shrine, butter is
also in great demand. The butter is moulded into various
shapes, having some more or less geometrical form, and
frequently having some bas-relief design representing an
animal, or more frequently a flower. Although made entirely
of butter, these torma, as they arc called, are usually dyed in
various different colours, reels and greens being the popular*
shades. Some of these tonna are made only for a special
occasion and then ceremoniously destroyed, but many of the
larger ones, on which a great deal of sculptural effort has been
expended, are expected to last a year, and are solemnly
replaced at some annual festival.

Although I enjoyed the yak's milk, Tibetan butter I always
found particularly unpleasant. The Tibetans never think
of preparing it with salt, and owing to the peculiar nature of
yak's milk, it very soon becomes rancid. Even a few days
after its preparation it acquires a smell and a taste which is,
to Europeans, extremely repulsive. Consequently, although
Tibet is a land overflowing with butter, every Englishman-
such, for example, as the officers stationed at the military
outposts at Gyangtse and Yatung~are forced to import tins
of butter from Australia. The Tibetans not only find nothing
wrong with their butter, but actually appreciate it more the
older and “ riper " it is, and the same nomad who sold us the
milk offered us some butter which he proudly declared was
forty years old. The one whiff which I got of it made me
readily believe in the antiquity claimed for it. At this moment
Lhaten came to my aid and declared that though our master

Satan ") was of excellent family, he could not afford such
a costly luxury and would prefer to buy some butter which
was fresher aud cheaper.

PROVINCIAL GOVERNMENT 129

De gusHbus non est disputandem, io use Frederick the Great’s
one Latin quotation ; in Tibet it is butter, in China it is eggs.
A Chinese gentleman considers an egg which is literally black
with age a peculiar delicacy, but until we have rid ourselves
of our taste for game and cheese which are more than “ high ”
we shall hardly be in a position to criticize Oriental preferences.

As dusk drew on the herdsmen gradually began to lead off
their flocks to a point some distance away, where their encamp¬
ment lay. These yaks seem to have an ear for music, for their
herdsmen always whistle in a peculiar way through their teeth
to keep the herds together and on the march; but the
Tibetan sheep appear impervious to melody, for in their
case the men employ slings with which they throw small
stones with really remarkable accuracy. It was very interest¬
ing to see huge flocks of sheep guided along their way by a small
hail of pebbles which assailed them on every side.

CHAPTER XII

LIFE ON THE PLAINS

Soon we were once more alone and I could again take an
active part in the proceedings. While the herdsmen were
around, I had curled myself up near our unloaded baggage
and had pretended to go to sleep, while “ Satan ” and Lhaten
carried on negotiations, though I was gradually losing my
timidity as to my disguise. The great cold, which had lessened
at midday, once more came on, and as it gradually soaked into
our pores we became nearly paralysed and stupelied both as
regard body and brain. I longed for the partial protection
which the erection of our tent would bring us, but that tried
and faithful friend was of too obviously European design, and
I was afraid that the herdsmen, or some chance traveller,
might see it and wonder as to the nature of its occupants, and
so, to the great dissatisfaction of my servants, I gave orders
that we were not to use it. Instead we made a semicircle of
our bags and boxes and crept inside this with nothing but
heaven above us.

We were partly consoled by being able to light a fire. We
had not seen a single tree for several days past, but we found
in the plain some old yak-dung, which we collected and used
for fuel. Incidentally it may be noted that this is the only
fuel used over the greater part of Tibet, which is barren of
both trees and coal. It is collected by the village children and
specially dried before being burned. It gives a quick hot fire,
but has to be frequently replenished. Owing to the ammonia
contained in it, it emits a very acrid smell, which flavours
any food cooked over it. Strangely enough, one becomes
accustomed to this taste, and subsequently finds for a time
that food cooked in an ordinary way seems almost tasteless.

130

LIFE ON THE PLAINS

131

On this paxticular evening the yak-dung was worse than usual,
for we had to use what we could find. None we recovered
had been properly dried. Some of it was so fresh that it
refused to burn, and as the bitter acrid smoke got into our
eyes, it became very painful. To a certain extent I was glad
of this. The weak point in my disguise was my eyes, and if
they were obviously swollen and bloodshot I should have all
the better excuse for wearing my dark goggles, which served
not only to hide the colour, but also the European formation
of my eyes.

Our nightly camp-fire conversation was shortened that
evening owing to the increasing cold, and all of us were anxious
to tuck ourselves in as soon as possible. In the absence of the
tent, the only thing to do was to sleep as close to one another
as possible. I never thought I should enjoy sleeping huddled
up amongst filthy natives, but then all other thoughts save
that of warmth were banished, and so we piled all the blankets
together and crept under them. Even so, we could only find
sleep by lying so close together as to feel the warmth of one
another’s bodies. Social distinctions were only to be seen from
the fact that “ Satan ” and I were in the middle and there¬
fore protected on both sides, whUe the others were arranged on
the outside, " Diogenes ” sleeping at our feet. He, poor boy,
was destined to have a bad time. The shoes he had brought
with him from Sikkim had fallen to pieces, and we had pur¬
chased for him a new pair of boots in Kampa Dzong. Unlike
most Tibetan boots, which are made entirely of wool, these
Kampa Dzong boots were made of very badly-treated yak
leather, and were insuperably stiff. During the latter part
of the day " Diogenes ” preferred the cold of bare feet to the
torture of the boots, and had exposed his toes to the frozen
soil and the biting night cold.

We were so tired from the previous day’s exertions, and our
night’s rest had been so miserable, that we slept on longer than
was intended. It was nearly eight o’clock before we were
on the move again. I was glad to see that a good feed had
improved the spirits of our animals; they looked fresher
than they had done for some time past. On the other
hand, aU three of the mules had been developing very
sore backs.

132 TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

Our packs were modelled on native Tibetan lines and were
very difficult to balance, so that they had always a tendency
to drag on one side or the other, which, of course, served to
irritate any saddle-sores. The Tibetans are notoriously callous
in their treatment of their animals, and, so long as it does not
interfere with the efficiency of the animals, do not seem to care
what horrible sight the saddle and blankets may cover. It
was always a trial to my patience to see at each rest-house the
cruel way in which the transport animals were loaded and
unloaded. With other people’s affairs I had nothing to do, but
I determined to make the lot of our own creatures as easy as
possible, and when the others were engaged in packing up our
things, the syce and I always did what we could for the mules.
I had ordered the servants to purchase in Kampa Dzong what¬
ever local remedies for saddle-sores might be used in Tibet, and
on this morning I found that they had purchased for the
purpose a tin of well-known English make of black shoe-polish !
—shoe-cream being one of the things the Tibetan merchants
bring back with them from Kalimpong. The Tibetan boots
being made, for the most part, entirely of wool, and coloured
red, the natives have no need for any kind of shoe-cream for its
ordinary purpose, but the superstition has grown up that it is
useful for saddle-sores, and in the larger Tibetan towns it is
occasionally to be found in the market for this reason.

I must confess that I had grave doubts as to its efficiency, and
would have preferred ordinary vaseline, but there was nothing
else available and, after washing out the sores, we dabbed them
over with the blacking. This was destined to give us one
further inconvenience. What in the daytime served as saddle
blankets were used as blankets for ourselves at night, so that
the blacking which came off on to the blankets was bound to
transfer itself to our clothes as time went on. But in Tibet, the
paradise of filth, a little extra black makes a very trifling
difference one way or the other.

Now that we were alone, I thought of washing my face and
hands at least before starting on the day’s journey, but even
this prudence forbade. We were likely to touch another village
later on in the day, and in case the peasants were to see me
without that grime which comes only with a long abstinence
from ablutions, their suspicions might be aroused, and so,

LIFE ON THE PLAINS 133

following my servants’ example, I set out, though reluctantly,
in all my accumulation of filth.

As our track lay across the open plain, the first part of our
march proved fairly easy, though I noticed the bed of the plain
was not as even as that of the Kampa or Tuna plains. It
rolled slightly up and down hiU, and was occasionally eaten
away into ravines by some long-extinct rivers. Judging by
the number of such dry river-beds which I saw in this land,
one is compelled to believe that at some time the climate of
Tibet was much moister than at present. I later found, after
careful inquiry and observation, that even in summer, which is
the wet season of Tibet, the rainfall is so scanty that hardly a
trickle passes over the river-beds which look as if they had been
hollowed out by mighty streams.

Under the influence of the desolate plains and the dry river¬
beds, I waxed very pessimistic that morning, and called to
mind the many other places in which man seems to be fighting
a losing battle with nature. All the great deserts seem to be
gradually widening their boundaries. In Africa, in America,
and in Australia, the deserts are slowly eating into the pasture-
land. In the highlands of Asia this devastation appears to be
encroaching even more rapidly. Just north of Tibet, in Chinese
Turkestan and in Mongolia, this transformation presents itself
as a tragedy of civilization. There the explorer everywhere
comes across ruins which show that, only a few hundred years
ago, prosperous kingdoms existed endowed with magnificent
palaces and sparkling fountains—^phantom civilizations they
were, for now not only are the palaces deserted, but for the
most part they are also covered and obliterated with the sands
carried on the death-bearing winds of the ever-encroaching
desert.

In one of the depressions in the plain we found the main camp
of our nomad friends of the preceding day. This consisted of
four or five tents, coloured black and made out of yak-skins.
These tents are very picturesque, and I was very anxious to
purchase one, more particularly as I should not have had any
hesitation in erecting one for the use of our party every night,
for it would have attracted no particular attention from the
casual observer, while our white linen tent, of course, would be
at once an object of curious inquiry. The nomads were very

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

134

much surprised at our request for a tent, and refused on any
consideration to sell us one.

It was interesting to contrast these primitive tent-dwellers
with the more sophisticated dwellers in the villages. Their
communities axe particularly important in certain circumscribed
areas, however, and they live a freer, more open life than the
townsman or villagers. Out on the hillsides and over the
moors they pasture great flocks and herds, their livestock
including yaks, sheep, goats, and ponies. In the Rudro, Ngari
Khorsum, and the Dro-to districts of Western Tibet, practically
the whole of the inhabitants belong to the nomad tribes of
herdsmen, the only exceptions being monks and Government
officials. Some live in villages during the winter, and in
Western Tibet the herdsmen retire to their stone-built huts for
shelter when the hard weather begins. In places these winter
encampments, however, consist of encircling walls and stone
defences against wind and snow, inside which the tents are
erected in deep excavations ; elsewhere, certain tribes have
hewn large galleries in the rocky hillsides. These are entered
by narrow holes, but inside it is roomy, lofty, and warm.

In summer one comes across the Dro-pas in all parts of the
country on the higher plateaux, where pasturage is to be found
for the cattle. Their picturesque encampments of black tents,
decorated with yaks’ tails and prayer-flags, are very interesting.
Each tribe clings to a particular district, or de, and each tent
houses a separate family. These tents are made of black
canvas, very coarse in texture, which is spun from yak’s hair;
hides are sometimes used. Along the centre, at the top,
runs a six-inch aperture through which the smoke escapes;
at the entrance of the tent a more or less rude shrine is placed,
and inside there is room for twenty or more persons to sleep.
The clay-built stove and oven occupy the centre, and round
this assembles the whole family. The chieftain’s tent, in
comparison with the others, is well appointed, and one may find
imported wares, tobacco, and tea inside.

The nomads live pretty well, for their flocks supply them with
ample food and material for clothing. Yak-flesh and mutton,
always boiled, are in plentiful supply, butter and che^ are
available, for the Tibetans do not drink fresh nfllk, and always
allow it to curdle or make it into cheese and butter. Parched

LIFE ON THE PLAINS 135

barley made up into soft balls in tea generally, is a staple food¬
stuff. Far better off are these nomads than the average urban
dweller, for even the poorest has a small flock, while oft-times a
family tent wiU own up to fifteen hundred head of cattle, goats,
sheep, yak, and ponies. From the wool of the long-fleeced
sheep (there are four species of sheep in Tibet), which is rarely
exported, and the soft under-wool of goats, etc., clothes and
rugs are made, while this latter is exported, and is utilized in
making the famous soft Kashmir shawls.

The dress is a sheepskin robe with the wool on, bound round
the waist by a yak-hair girdle; the women, in addition, wearing
woollen petticoats and striped shawls, with traditional head¬
dress (the form depending on the district) which is profusely
bedecked with coral and turquoise. The women, too, have an
advantage over their village sisters, in that they do very little
field-work, and attend to their homes ; the heavy labour is the
sphere of the men.

Throughout Central Tibet, covering the provinces of U and
Tsang, the nomads wander between town and village, encamp¬
ing wherever possible, probably on a ledge up the hillside
where, from their tents, they can command a view of their
pasturing flock, and at the same time be somewhat free from
molestation. They cover the land south of Lake Yamdro,
the districts adjoining the frontiers of Nepal and Bhutan, and
far away in the extensive pastoral area, a hundred to two
hundred nailes north-east of Lhasa, where the whole country
is covered by the tribes of these folk.

While within its district the tribe is an entity, the families
split up and roam about independently, but rarely, except in
the case of the marauding nomads, do they overstep the confines
of their territory. Some of these families do not retire to special
fastnesses during the winter months, but merely strengthen
their tents and dig themselves in. Taxes are paid by the
Dro-pas in cattle and ponies, also in butter and coin on their
flocks, while they must provide transport animals for the
monasteries and Government officials. But some of the
wilder tribes ignore these tax claims.

The Horpa tribes north-east of Lhasa sometimes leave their
pastoral pursuits and go off on mounted raids into neighbouring
territories and along the highways. Sometimes a gang, which

136 TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

may number up to ten score, will range over hundreds of miles
of country, raiding and carrying off flocks and pillaging
villages and travellers.

The Rong-po Dro-pas, who live in the territory contiguous
to U in the east, are a race of giants who have proved them¬
selves of sturdy character in the wars. Of an athletic bent,
they add hunting to their occupations of agriculture and
horse-breeding, while the Gya-de tribes of the eastern and
east-central districts, who practise polygamy, and not
polyandry, by the way, and raise large families, live in
permanent tent encampments, raising large flocks of sheep
and milch-yaks. Altogether the Dro-pas tribes, as a people
and for their peculiar customs and habits, provide one of the
most interesting features of Tibetan life.

After a few minutes’ conversation with these interesting
nomad folk we went on our way across the plain. About noon
we came to a small lake which, being very shallow, had com¬
pletely frozen over.

Earlier in the day I had been rendered sorrowful by the
absence of water. I was now to find the presence of water
in the form of ice even more troublesome, for the glassy surface
of the lake at which we had arrived presented a serious obstacle.
The path lay directly over the ice, and so, sillily enough, instead
of skirting the lake we embarked with all our animal s upon the
unstable footing of the shppery surface. One of our mules
fell and badly sprained a leg. This was “ London,” the most
gallant and hard-working of the three mules. I at first feared
she had broken her leg and that we should have to cut her
throat, but only a tendon had been strained, and a few minutes
later she was pluckily limping on again. Poor, faithful little
old “ London,” how brave you were, exhausting all your
strength struggling to keep up with the others, until a few days
later, having come to the end of your tether, you lay down and
died without a sign of complaint!

“ London,” who was the first to cross, taught us a lesson,
and as the other animals made their journey, Lhaten stood at
the head and I at the tail of each, and whenever one slipped
we held it up until it could find a footing again.

At last, when we thought all was well, " Satan ” slipped and
had rather a nasty fall on the ice. His cumbersome attempts

LIFE ON THE PLAINS

137

to get up were really so comical that all of the others, including
myself, had to laugh. A man of very quick temper, he was
rendered perfectly furious, and once on the other side I had
the greatest difficulty in restraining him from physical violence.
It is an interesting commentary upon human nature that
ridicule seems to be the cause of more deep-seated anger than
anything else.

Warmed by our attempts to bring the animals safely over
the ice, we stopped for a few minutes on the other side of the
lake and took our midday meal. While we were resting there
a merchant caravan with some twenty yaks came up to the
lake on their way to Kampa Dzong. The merchants gave us
but scant attention, and after a brief hail started across the
ice. It was interesting to see the slow, sure, and perfectly-
poised way in which the yaks managed to get across. Great
clumsy, awkward-looking brutes they are, but they seemed
quite unconcerned at crossing the glassy surface, and lumbered
along without the slightest suggestion of falling, though the
ponies which the merchants were riding experienced the same
difficulties as those undergone by our own animals a short
time earlier.

The yak is in many ways a remarkable animal, and a whole
book could be written about it. This beast is found wild as
well as in domestic service. There are several species and
crosses. The cross between yak bull and the Indian cow is
the beast in largest demand, being found throughout Tibet in
domestic service, farm-work, and transport.

The wild yak is a sturdy beast rather like the American
bison or so-called “ buffalo,” with a large heavy head which
the beast bears close to the ground. The back slopes down
to the tail, and the flanks are draped with long thick wool
which reaches down to the ground, the underpart of the belly,
which is practically bare, being protected from the cold in this
way. The hoofs are large and cleft as suitable for climbing,
while the strange tongue is armed with barbs enabling the beast
to tear off and masticate the coarse herbage on which it feeds
—^lichens, camel’s-thorn, mosses, and suchlike. A bull will
measure ii feet from head to tail-root and stand 5 feet high
at the shoulders. Horns, points forward, wiU measure over
30 inches. The tame yaks and crossbreeds are smaller.

138 TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

This splendid beast is very surefooted though slow, and will
climb the roughest way like a goat. It roams in herds, some¬
times with the wild ass and antelope, over vast tracks. In the
winter it scrambles up the moimtain-sides far above the snow¬
line, rooting out mosses and such stuff from under the snow.

Once we had recovered our breath and had disposed of our
meal, we hastened on again, for the wind began to blow in an
alarming fashion, the sky, which in the morning had been so
clear, became murky, and evil-looking clouds seemed to
threaten some kind of storm. We wanted to get on as far as
possible before any radical change in the weather might hinder
our march.

“ Satan ” continued in a bad temper the whole afternoon.
He had been rendered irritable by the hardships of the last
several days. The ridicule he had suffered as the result of his
slip was the last straw, and he continued to make numerous
insolent remarks. I could not afford to break with him, and
so was forced to keep the peace in spite of the fact that he was
already talking of giving information to the authorities.

Before long we came to the other side of the plain, and it
looked as if we had another mountain range to cross before dusk
should come upon us, when suddenly we saw a narrow opening
in the mountains divide ahead of us which led directly into
another plain a few hundred feet higher than the one on which
we were standing, and which, instead of being level, was tilted
slightly, forming a long shelving upward slope.

More or less at the junction of these two plains we found the
important village of Kuma, seemingly a thriving commrmity,
and though without a castle, it was the largest settlement
which we had yet come across. Seeing that we had with us suffi¬
cient supplies for the future and had therefore no need for further
purchases, I wished to pass by this village unnoticed, as I had
heard it was the residence of several Government officials ; but
though we did not stop, we were not lucky enough to escape
attention.

The dogs alone, on seeing us, made enough noise to awaken
the dead. Tibet abounds with dogs. The natives have no
conception of breeding or racial purity as regards their animals,
so that the dogs are weird mongrels of a hundred known and
unknown breeds. Apart from a few pet dogs kept by the

LIFE ON THE PLAINS

139

aristocratic families in Shigats^ and Lhasa, all Tibetan dogs fall
under two main categories, scavengers and watchdogs, both of
which are found in great numbers in every village.

The scavengers are all hopelessly hungry-looking animals,
usually of a light-brown colour. They are left free to prowl
about at will, but seem to have been divested of every form of
moral or physical courage, and with furtive eye and drooping
tail slink around the family courtyard. They are really despic¬
able curs. The only thing one can find to say in their favour
is that as scavengers they are really effective, as there is
nothing, no matter how filthy, which they refuse to eat.

The watchdogs are of an entirely different build, larger and
stronger, with a much longer coat, generally black. They are
always chained up in front of the great gateway which leads
into the courtyard, and thus lead a life of perpetual captivity.
They bark vigorously at the approach of any stranger, and
generally make a bloodcurdling attempt to bite as weU. These
dogs are purposely underfed in order to keep them in a savage
temper.

Kuma is a trade centre which depends a good deal upon
catering to the Tibetan merchants passing to and fro on their
journeys, and as in winter times are slack, a number of rest-
house keepers came out to secure our custom when the dogs
warned them of our approach. These touts were by no means
pleased when we told them that we were not stopping. Th^
told us there was no other village for many miles farther on,
for which I was not sorry, and we persisted in our story that we
had to push on to Shigats <5 owing to urgent business. This
did not seem to satisfy them, and one or two uncomplimentary
phrases were hurled at us. Not that we minded this greatly ;
much more unpleasant was the fact that a shepherd fell in with
us and said he would accompany our party until he came to his
hut, a mile or so farther on. His unsolicited company proved
more disquieting, as he insisted on carrying on a lengthy
conversation with me personally. A man of very humble origin,
he did not presume to address any remarks to “ Satan,”
the supposed master, and both Lhaten and the syce exhibited a
coldness which he could only imagine came from a dislike to
exchanging pleasantries with a poor shepherd. So he turned
his attentions to, “ Diogenes ” and me, as obviously the

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

140

humblest members of the party. Poor “ Diogenes ” was never
very brilliant at conversation, and so, very unwillingly, I had
to shoulder the responsibility of the dialogue, though I made
frank signs to “ Satan ” to come back and relieve me of my task
—signs which he completely ignored.

I had long since reached a point in my Tibetan studies where
practically every word which I heard was intelligible to me,
and my own Tibetan was always understandable and compara¬
tively fluent, but I was afraid that the misuse of some word or
false intonation might betray me.

The intonation was the important point, because, unlike any
so-called Aryan language, Tibetan, in common with the other
South Mongolian languages such as Burmese and Siamese, and
with Chinese, a Central Mongolian language, makes constant
use of various tones to indicate changes of meaning.

In Chinese, as is generally well known, several words can be
phonetically spelled and pronounced exactly alike, but can have
entirely different meanings according to whether they have a
rising or falling intonation, etc. The Tibetan tones are some¬
what differently arranged. In conversation the pitch of the
voice varies, each word having a tone in which it should
be pronounced, but it is the initial letter, or sometimes the
silent prefixed letter, which governs the tone. Grammarians
distinguish six tones, but for practical purposes these may be
reduced to three—the high, the medium, and the low tones.
Thus, for example, Tibetan has three letters ( T?*Tf. )
which in the modern colloquial sound like our letter k (all three
are so rendered in the present book), but the first is given a high
pitch, and is pronounced with the tongue between the teeth, the
second is given a medium pitch and is strongly aspirated, the
third is given a low pitch and is pronounced through the throat.
Similarly, there are in Tibetan three kinds of p’s, or t’s, and ch’s
and te’s, two kinds of s’s, and two kinds of sh’s. In speaking
Tibetan it is very important that all these distinctions be
observed.

Not wishing to show our shepherd friend too many of my
tone exercises, I was as laconic in my replies as possible, and
assumed my rdle of a dull, stupid, vacant-minded peasant, to
whom any great conversational effort was a serious mental
strain. He seemed quite content to find a good listener,

LIFE ON THE PLAINS

141

chattering gaily on, scarcely waiting for an answer, and any
divergences on my part from his conception of standard
Tibetan vocabulary or accent he put down to dialectical
peculiarity.

AH the time he was with us he busied himself spinning yams,
both metaphorically and literally, for he occupied his hands
spinning a large wad of wool into a coarse thread, which his
wife would later on weave into cloth. This yam was spun
with the aid of a curious little bobbin which he kept swinging
round and round.

This is a favourite occupation of the Tibetan peasant men
when they are on tramp or with their herds. It serves a useful
economic purpose, and at the same time gives them some way
of occupying their minds during the long idle hours when
tending their flocks, which require so little supervision.

Our companion, whose presence had proved so unacceptable
at first, really amused me with his guileless chatter, and I felt
genuinely sorry when he came to his hut and he left us with
his “ Kalepe a ” [lit. Please go slowly), the usual polite parting
phrase in Tibet.

We had felt so sure of being able to follow the track that we
had neglected to ask him for directions, and found ourselves
puzzled when we came to a place where the trail split into
three, leading in widely-different directions. Not knowing
which to choose, we at length followed the usual Buddhist
course and chose “ the middle way.” Following it for several
miles, with ever-increasing difficulty and discomfort—^for the
day had grown murkier and colder than ever and the devastating
afternoon gale drove straight against us—at length we met a
small party of peasants bringing some yaks into Kuma. Their
information told us we had battled several hours with the wind
uselessly, because for once the middle way was not the proper
way, and we should have taken the route to the right.

Kindly, simple souls, these peasants became quite excited
over our troubles, and told us how we might cut across the
sloping plain and get back on to our road without having to
retrace our steps. One, a toothless old grandmother, who was
perched on top of a yak, took pity on “ Diogenes ” and me,
who were obviously not only the humblest but also the most
miserable members of our party, and ofiered us a drink of the

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

142

chang, or barley-beer, she was carrpng. For once, in spite of
nay teetotal intentions, I accepted with alacrity.

Another hour’s weary trudging brought us back on our
road, and we continued along it until we were ready to drop
from utter weariness and misery, eventually halting at a
dreary desolate spot only some ten miles beyond Kuma, so
much time had we lost by taking the false direction. A few
flakes of snow feU and, looking back from our elevated position,
we could see that a real snowstorm was taking place on the
pass by which we had entered Tibet. Had we been but three
days longer in the mountains, we should certainly have
perished in the snow. I was thankful for our deliverance
from the danger of the pass, but certainly our present position
was heart-breaking enough.

Not daring to pitch our tent, we were exposed to the full
fury of the windstorm, which brought with it the greatest
cold we had yet experienced. Worst of all, we could not find
even yak-dung, and were unable to light a fire, so that we were
even without that Tibetan tea which cheers the soul.

We had become frightfully thirsty, and though we had
encamped by a tiny rivulet, the water of this was frozen fast,
so that the only way we could quench our thirst was by
chipping off pieces of ice and letting these melt in our mouths.
The night was even more miserable.

We tried desperately to get to sleep, but after every few
minutes’ uneasy dozing we would be awakened by an extra
gust of icy wind, which penetrated right through the blankets.
Poor " Diogenes ” moaned the whole night, owing to the
agony he suffered from his frostbitten feet.

It was too much to expect human nature to stand such
misery, and I was not surprised when, shortly after midnight,
“ Satan ” announced his intention of abandoning the project.
The other servants, unfortunately, were awake and for once
joined their voices in favour of " Satan’s ” declaration.
Considering our obvious discomfort, it was a bad time to
attempt to argue with them, so in the end I was forced to
compromise. I pointed out that their physical suffering
originated only from the fact that they were sleeping out in
the open, and that if they were to spend each night in a village,
where they could find food, drink, fire, and shelter, they woiffd

LIFE ON THE PLAINS

143

have nothing to fear, and that even if we gave up the project,
it would be impossible to return to Sikkim immediately, as the
passes were now definitely closed.

After some argument they agreed to carry on, if the plan of
halting each stage at some village were carried out. This, of
course, would enormously increase the chances of detection.
Each day I would come under the surveillance of the villagers,
but I felt that I could no longer expose my servants to such
privations as we had endured. Furthermore, I felt emboldened
by the success of my disguise. Already I had met and talked
with numerous Tibetans, who seemed to notice nothing unusual
about my appearance or speech. Peace and unanimity were
thus once more restored to our party. By a curious coincidence
the bitter wind, the immediate cause of our misery, died down
very shortly after that, and we were able to get a little real
slumber.

CHAPTER XIII

ON TO SHIGATSE

We had made most excellent plans to start early on our
journey, but all of us were still sound asleep when the sun arose,
and I was awakened to find a strange Tibetan face peering into
mine. I was astounded and thought that through some
treachery we were discovered, yet I still had enough gumption
to pretend to go back to sleep again, for in the night I had
taken off my dark goggles, and I was, therefore, afraid to let
anyone get too close a view of my eyes without this protection.

My sudden alarm proved groundless. The strangers were
an old man and his son who were on their way to Shigats( 5 .
They had halted the previous night at Kuma, and having
started early in the morning, had caught up with us soon after
sunrise. Being surprised to find a party sleeping in the open,
they had come up to make inquiries.

Lhaten told them we had lost the way the preceding evening,
and consequently were so delayed that we had been unable to
get to the next village, and had slept out. He spoke feelingly
of the miserable night we had spent in the open. Our visitors
did not stay long, but on leaving said that they were halting
a mile or two farther on to eat and rest, and that we should
probably catch them up.

Half an hour later we had packed everything up and were
on our way, though I felt in a very depressed mood. It was
impossible to go back on my promise to my servants, but I felt
that under the new conditions which were to await us I had
very little chance of ever getting to Lhasa. I felt all the
sufferings we had undergone had been in vain, and the only
thing to be done was to penetrate as far as possible into the
country before I was discovered.

144

ON TO SHIGATSE

145

The morning was very misty ; often it was impossible to see
more than a few paces ahead. Then for a moment the mist
suddenly lifted and we saw coming towards us a number of
riders armed with swords and with rifles, followed by a large
caravan of yaks ! At first the caravan smacked of something
official, but the consequent apprehension was misfounded, for
the cavalcade turned out to be a peaceful trading-party only,
though, even so, to be on the safe side, I loielt down and
pretended to attend to my boots as they came by, so that
my face should be hidden.

The presence of the armed men was easily explained. Where¬
as the villagers in Tibet are more or less under control,
the Government officials have not yet managed to imbue the
outl5dng nomads with any lively conception of discipline, and
they are always prone to turn highway robbers. Consequently,
when a caravan containing merchandise of any value is destined
to go over territory outside the influence of the towns, well-
armed guards are always employed to protect it.

The hasty glimpse I got of this party showed me that the
swords were all of native design. The inhabitants of Central
Tibet have never shown any great aptitude for design or crafts¬
manship, and most of the daggers and knives of Tibet come
from Nepal, from Bhutan, or from Kam, the great semi¬
independent province which lies between Tibet proper and
China.

The rifles, on the other hand, were of modern and European
design. Of recent years a great many modern rifles have found
their way from India into Tibet—^some legally and some
illegally. In addition, the Tibetans are now busy manufactur¬
ing such rifles in Tibet itself. Even before 1904 the Tibetan
Government had established a small arsenal in Lhasa, where
quite creditable imitations of European rifles were made,
chiefly based on samples secured from Russia, and such guns
were in the hands of some of the soldiers who fought against
the Younghusband Expedition. Since 1912 the arsenal has
been very considerably expanded, and now turns out a number
of rifles every year ! Some of these imitations, which later fell
into my hands, I found to be very exact, so exact, in fact, that
even the nameplate of the original European makers had
been copied.

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

146

I was able to catch only a fleeting glimpse of the loads which
the yaks were carrying, but from the size and shapes of the
bundles it was pretty obvious that they mostly contained wool,
barley, flour, boxes of brick-tea, and salt. The last three
articles were probably for consumption in and around Kampa
Dzong, for they have little or no export value. Nearly all the
tea used by the Tibetans in every part of the country comes
from China. It is compressed into bricks, which make the
tea much easier to transport, but it was curious to find tea
coming to Kampa Dzong from distant China, when excellent
tea is grown in Darjeeling and many parts of Sikkim. Such
is the power of custom that this nearer and far more delicate
tea is never imported. The barley was more explicable, for
even the villagers in the neighbourhood of Kampa Dzong
depend largely upon the flocks for their livelihood. Though a
certain amount of barley is grown, the chmate is too cold and
the altitude is too high to make any form of agriculture particu¬
larly successful. In some places the barley plant never fully
ripens, and on the approach of the bad weather has to be
plucked green and used merely as fodder for the animals during
the winter months.

The environs of Kampa Dzong, being essentially grazing-
land, produce more than enough wool for aU local purposes, but
Kampa Dzong itself is one of the places from which wool
gathered from every part of Tibet is, in the summer months,
sent down to Sikkim and India, where it commands very high
prices, for Tibetan wool is very nearly the best. The reason
for this is that the terrible cold of Tibet has forced nearly aU
animals that live there to grow a curious sort of inner coat of a
fine and silky nature, which lies close to the skin and keeps out
a great deal of the biting wind which penetrates the outer coat.
Although nearly all the animals, including the dogs, grow this
soft silk wool, it is particularly luxuriant on the yak, the sheep,
and the goats, and can be used for commercial purposes. Owing
to its silk-like texture it is much prized by the natives of the
surrounding countries.

Most of the wool caravans go over the Gyangts^-Pari-
Yatung-Kalimpong route, but here there is practically a
monopoly which kills aU competition, and many of the smaller
traders prefer to use Kampa Dzong as the export base.

ON TO SHIGATSE

147

Incidentally I was told that a good deal of smuggling has been
going on since 1912, when the Chinese-Tibetan customs office
was abolished. India and Tibet have established absolute
free trade, and there is no import duty levied on either side ;
but the Tibetan Government, in a desperate attempt to secure
money for its new enterprises, levies a tax of 5 trangka on
every bale of wool that is sold, and in many cases this tax is
only extorted at the frontier stations as a sort of port duty. It
is payment of this tax that the smugglers try to avoid.

The salt used in Tibet is derived in nearly all cases from the
saline crustations surrounding many of the lakes. In most
cases the natives use it exactly as they find it, with no attempt
at purification; consequently one frequently finds with it
grains of sand, and in many cases it contains mixtures of salts
other than the common sodium chloride, or ordinary table-salt.
For this reason Tibetan salt has frequently a peculiarly acrid
and bitter taste. Finally, one finds it sold in fairly large crys¬
tals, which makes it difficult to be sprinkled over food, but which
does not interfere with the principal Tibetan use of it, which is
to boil it with their tea.

We went on steadily uphill for some time after leaving the
caravan which had aroused our fears without seeing anyone
else, and I began to think that, after all, we would be spared
meeting the two traders who had awakened us that morning.
But just as I had come to the conclusion that they had gone on
ahead without waiting for us, we came in sight of a deserted,
ruined stone house, and found that this served as the halting-
place of our friends. They hailed us as we came up, and we
again stopped for a few minutes’ conversation. Learning that
we were going to Shigats^ on pilgrimage, they suggested that
we continue the journey together, Shigatse being their home
place, to which they were returning after a visit to a relative in
Kampa Dzong.

Such a proposition is not unusual in Tibet, for owing to their
fear of brigands, small parties do not like to make a long journey
alone, and where small groups of travellers are unable to hire
armed guards such as we had seen that morning, it is usual
for them to join together in order to make a show of bigger
numbers and thereby frighten away the less bold, or isolated,
brigands.

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

148

Personally, I was not so much afraid of brigands as of the
law-abiding Tibetans, but thought that at least, if these two
friendly travellers were with us, we should no longer have any
fear of again losing our way. I was still very loath to come into
such close personal touch with Tibetans, which would not allow
me to relax my disguise for a single minute, even when on the
road. Only two days previously I had made a great scene
when I found the Kampa Dzong coolies had been added to our
party. Much had happened in the short space of time which
had elapsed, and I felt much surer of myself and of my disguise.
Still, I would certainly have rejected our present companions’
offer had it been possible to discover a satisfactory excuse.
The matter was taken out of my hands, however, by “ Satan.”
During the last day or two he had waxed rather independent,
and had found the r 61 e of master so congenial that he decided
to play the part in earnest. Without even so much as a glance
at me to see how I wanted things to go, he accepted the Tibetans’
proffered companionship, and as it was obviously impos¬
sible for me to make an open protest, we waited another few
minutes until our new companions had time to reload the horse
which they had with them to carry their loads, for they them¬
selves were walking the whole way, and pushed on together.
I was rather sorry for this, for if they, like “ Satan,” had been
riding there would have been less need for me to come into
personal contact with them.

While they were thus busy with their loads, I quickly made
up my mind as to the best way to meet the new situation. I
whispered to Lhaten that I and the syce would go on and
try to keep ahead of the main party the whole day. Lhaten
was to follow on with our new companions, tell our
prearranged story, and inform them that I was a little queer
in “ the upper story.” Incidentally, I added that he was
never to leave “ Satan ” alone with them, as I had already
suspicions that the scamp might attempt to betray me. By
this arrangement I felt that there would be less danger of
detection than if I remained in closer contact with the party
all the time.

Until about noon the road continued uphill, though nearly
always with the same gentle incline, a formation which I
believe to be very rare in Tibet. We came eventually to the

ON TO SHIGATSE

149

apex of the slope, marked, as usual, by a pair of shrines with
rags and prayer-flags attached to them. We added our stones
to the votive pile, duly invoked the gods, and passed over to
the other side, where our descent began.

The pass marks the watershed of this part of Tibet. Up to
this time all the streams, when they did not evaporate on the
open plains, joined the rivers that pierced the Himalayas and
penetrated directly into India. The river which we arrived
at on the other side—a stream of important size, considering
how near it was to its source—ran down to the great river of
Tibet, the Brahmaputra, which may be called the life-artery
of Tibet, for it runs diagonally across the country many
hundreds of miles, and nearly all of Tibet’s cities are placed
either on this river or on one of its tributaries. Shigats6 and
Gyangts6 are on the Nyang, and Lhasa on the Kyi River, both
of which empty into the Brahmaputra. I felt, therefore,
that we had really entered the heart of Tibet once we had crossed
the watershed. The portion of the country drained by the
Brahmaputra is the most fertile part of Tibet, and I could
feel, as soon as we started the descent, that it was four or five
degrees warmer.

We had now come to an entirely different kind of country.
Instead of the broad, flat plains, we found a valley, a valley
which gradually widened out, but from which the mountains
rose sharply on either side, in a more or less parallel direction,
contrasting with the plains that seem to be enclosed on all
four sides by mountains.

Geographically the Tibetans divide their country into three
main types. These are known as Rang, or valley type, the
Dro, or the flat pasturage type, and the Tang, or desert-plain
type of country. The Rong type, naturally, is found in the
more mountainous part of the country, and consists of the
narrow, but frequently well cultivated, valleys and gorges
which lie between mountain ranges. Both the Dro and Tang
types are broad plains or flat-bottomed basins, but are dis¬
tinguished from one another in that the lower plains, which
are more fertile and can support a large number of flocks, are
called Dro, or pasturage country, while the higher and bleaker
plains retain the title of Tang.

The change in scenery which we noticed, therefore, indicated

150 TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

that we had emerged from the Tang to the Rong type of
country.

The Rong district, particularly between Shigatse and Lhasa,
contains numerous villages and monasteries. It is a rugged
land of steep ridges, ravines, and wild waterways, difficult to
traverse on account of the bare, forbidding mountains which
have to be crossed, and the dark narrow gorges. Yet within
this seemingly unfriendly tract the people are industrious and
happy, with villages grouped on ledges on the hillsides, and
sometimes along the sides of a valley, particularly at the
juncture of one river with another where the alluvial soil
provides profitable cultivation. The abundance of water,
and the rich, raised earth-beds washed up alongside the rivers,
and possibly the protective nature of the broken country,
make the Rong districts a favourite stretch for village settle¬
ments.

The Dro country, the territory of the semi-nomadic Dro-pas,
with their herds and flocks, lies chiefly in the southern part of
Tibet, but carries away to Dro-de, north-east of Lhasa, which,
in a district 150 to 200 miles of the capital, is surrounded by a
very beautiful country with wide and fertile valleys fairly
intensively cultivated and watered by large rivers.

The Dro districts are mainly tracts of heath and moorland,
sometimes very wild and bleak, with huge mountains which
rise up straight from the valleys and run rugged spurs from all
angles into the surrounding plains. Bogs and swamps abound
in parts, and dangerous gulches and crags. The soil is of
a dark, peaty nature, bearing a coarse herbage and some
shrubs, and near the rivers willow and poplar trees. In
favoured spots a wealth of beautiful flowers may be seen for
four months of the year, between the snow periods, and also
juniper and stunted firs. Small towns and villages are dotted
about here and there, but are not nearly so frequently met
with as in the Rong districts.

Summer lasts for four months. In October the snows come
and the whole aspect of the land is changed. Through the
winds the snows are driven and frozen hard, and throughout
the bleak winter the only life is that of hares and foxes, a few
antelope here and there, the wild ass and yak, which will be
seen high upon some rocky ledge routing round in sheltered

ON TO SHIGATSE

151

nooks for the scant herbage on which they subsist during this
drear period. The herdsmen withdraw from the plains and
upland pastures to the stone-built huts, or to the villages, with
the domestic cattle, leaviog the land to the wild life and stray
wayfarers.

The great tract of country in the west of Tibet is known as
the Tang territory, a region of wide steppes, rising out of which,
particularly in the more westerly portion, are formidable
mountains. The plains are really wide, shallow valleys
bounded by steep hiUs, the valleys being anything from fifteen
to forty miles in length. From the Mil-tops as far as the eye
can reach appear vast bare and desolate-looking even
stretches, perhaps broken by a river and shallow lakes. The
lakes are mostly salt, and fringing them are whitish borders
where the evaporated water has left deposits of sodas and salts.
The son, broken up into a flaky substance, powders into a
light, sandy nature, with occasional patches of dirty white
where clay is uncovered. The lakes and swamps between
latitude 33° and 82° E. are in the midst of a dry region where
the soil is covered with saltpetre. There is scant vegetation
and slight herbage only in the deeper, damper valley beds,
and in places it is absolutely bare. A coarse grass south of
latitude 33° and at an altitude of 15,000 feet supports the tame
cattle of the Changpas, as the natives of tMs region are called,
and also provides food for the wild asses and antelope, and
there is here also a broad belt of fertile pastures running for
about forty miles where thick grasses, wild rhubarb, and other
herbs are found. Then, again, in the saline valleys to the
north, where slabs of salt lie about on the surface, grass of a
coarse quality occurs, and still farther northward somewhat
luxuriant herbage serves as eflicient pasturage for herds of
wild animals.

Here too the summer is short, and a severe winter period
sets in early, changing entirely the aspect of the land. But
the saline lakes do not freeze, even though the surrounding
land and fast-flowing rivers are frostbound in a cold wMch
will descend to 45° below zero. The appearance of these
unfrozen lakes is rendered then even more curious by the fact
that the hot springs which occur near the lakes, generally of
the gusher type, are frozen into hard crystal columns of ice.

152 TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

In this regard it should be noted, however, that the higher
plateau of Chang-tang (or Plains of the North) are at an
altitude of anything from 15,000 to 17,300 feet above sea-level.

I was glad that I had not in my fright rushed on ahead alone,
but had brought the syce with me, as we met several natives
on our way down the vaUey, with whom an occasional word was
necessary. I let the syce do most of the talking, and contented
myself with throwing in a remark when I felt on safe ground.

In the excitement of the morning I had quite forgotten to get
out any food from our common stock, but in the load which I
was carrying there was a small sack of barley-flour, and filling
our tea-bowls full of water from the icy stream, the syce and I
mixed up the barley-flour to form a paste and with this sparse
food we had to be satisfied for the rest of the day.

We were fortunate that afternoon in having very little wind,
and consequently made much quicker progress than had been
possible the preceding day. About four o’clock a bend in the
valley brought before our eyes a village some three or four
miles away. This I knew was the place where we were to
halt for the evening.

The syce and I waited until the others came up, as I certainly
did not want to have the unpleasant task of searching out a
lodging and bargaining over the amount to be paid. We had
obviously done our march at a pretty good rate, for it was nearly
half an hour before our party arrived. When they did come
up I asked the gyepo, or old man, the elder of our two com¬
panions, where we were to stay for the night. He answered
that there was one lodging in the village in which he always
stayed, and being known there he could get things cheaper.
So he and his son now led the way, and the members of my party
followed. I pulled Lhaten aside and with him dropped even
farther behind, as I wanted to find how things had gone during
the day, and also to give certain orders as to what I wanted done
during the coming evening in the rest-house, where, of course, I
could no longer directly issue orders. This took longer than I
expected, and when we arrived at the village, the name of which
I discovered was Yako, I found that our party had already dis¬
appeared mto some rest-house courtyard. I was very angry that
they had not left a rearguard to tell us where to go, as it meant
that Lhaten and I had to wander around the whole village

ON TO SHIGATSE

153

and ask at several places before we came to the rest-house which
they had entered. At the entrance to the rest-house there
was the usual watchdog, who sprang out at us in a very
threatening way. Being in rather an irritable mood, I raised
the whip which I was carrying, but before I delivered a single
blow I noticed that the dog cowered down and slunk into his
kennel. This struck me as particularly humorous, because
it showed that the Tibetan dogs are like the Tibetan men—
fierce and threatening creatures, whose main idea is to terrorize
all around them, but like most bullies arrant cowards at heart.
On entering the courtyard we found that the syce and
" Diogenes ” were busy unloading the mules and that the
younger of our companions was helping them, an act of kindness
which I had not expected, so that without more ado Lhaten
and I went on to the rest-house common-room and began
preparing the food for that night.

This was my first real experience of a Tibetan rest-house—
in Kampa Dzong I had merely slept for an hour or two on the
roof—so I was much interested in observing how such places
were run. The Tibetans, strangely enough, are great travellers
within the limits of their own country, and nearly every village
has at least one rest-house, and sometimes two or three, where
such travellers can stay for the night and find food and drink.
At the same time such places differ a great deal from any
European equivalent, having little in common with even the
old village tavern or inn, which has come to us from time
immemorial. On the great high-roads, along which Govern¬
ment couriers and officials are constantly being sent, certain
places are appointed as official rest-houses and are more
elaborately equipped, but along the minor high-roads, such as
the one on which we were travelling, the accommodation is very
primitive. The house is properly a private dwelling. The
male members of the family engage in ordinary occupations,
such as agriculture, and the hostel side of the business is run
by the female department, the chief woman of the family acting
as the all-important nemo, or landlady.

The animals are, of course, cared for in the great courtyard.
The travellers are expected to attend to the loadiag and
unloadmg of their own packs, and must also look after giving
the animals food and drink. The water in this house was

154 TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

supplied by a well iu the middle of the courtyard, while the
fodder was to be purchased from the rest-house stores. This
consisted, needless to say, entirely of barley—a small amount
of barley-grain plus a much larger amount of the dried barley-
stalks. Any grooming of the animals that is required has to
be done by the travellers or their servants. In our case this
business was attended to by the syce aided by “ Diogenes.”

If the traveller is very wealthy, or possesses sufficiently high
official rank, he and his party are given a private chamber, but
in other cases all the travellers share a large communal room,
in which they rest, eat, drink, and sleep. Here we found the
common-room to be on the first floor, with no window over¬
looking the village outside, but with a huge opening—^to be
closed at night with a wooden shutter—overlooking the court¬
yard below, where, therefore, we could see how our animals
were faring. The shutters were already half closed, so that it
was very dark in the room, a fact which I appreciated very
much, as it allowed me to go about my duties as Lhaten’s
assistant without very much fear of detection, and I was able
to lay aside my dark goggles.

By good luck we found only one other party in the rest-house,
a group of four people, and as they seemed to be occupied with
their own affairs, after a brief exchange of greetings we were
able to ignore them.

The room contained no furniture of any kind. Both the walls
and floor were void of any covering. The floor consisted of
bare ground, though the comers of the room were filled with
the bales of the more valuable portion of the loads which we
and the other travellers had brought along inside, for petty
theft is very common in Tibet, and every traveller wishes to
keep his valuables as near to him as possible.

Shortly after our arrival the nemo, or landlady, brought in
a small iron tripod, and on it an iron brazier with holes in order
to secure a draught. Filled with yak-dung intermixed with
a few barley-straws, this was lighted by means of a tinder box,
and we were now in a position to proceed with the preparation
of our evening meal. Cooking in these rest-houses is left
entirely to the travellers themselves, for in no case is the
rest-house anything of a restaurant, though it is possible to
buy raw supplies from the landlady.

ON TOSHIGATSE

155

It can be seen that the occupation of a landlady at a Tibetan
rest-house is in no way arduous. She has naerely to provide
the room and sell any general supplies which may be wanted.
It is, therefore, quite obvious why every Tibetan traveller who
can afford it goes along with a retinue of servants, for the work
which would ordinarily be done by the servants of an inn in
the West falls on the shoulders of the traveller’s personal
attendants, if he feels it infra dig. to attend to such matters
himself.

In addition to servants, moreover, the traveller in Tibet
prefers to carry the major part of his food-supplies along with
him, instead of buying them at each rest-house at which he
stops. The reason for this I could never fathom, except, per¬
haps, that, curiously enough, most food-supplies can be bought
more cheaply in the larger cities than in the villages. As we
had laid in a fairly large supply in Kampa Dzong, we were also
able to follow Tibetan custom in this respect, and I noticed
that our party, in common with our companions, had to
purchase only fodder—^barley-straw—^for the animals, yak-dung
for the fire, and chang, or beer, all of which were too bulky to
carry conveniently along. If the accommodation in a Tibetan
rest-house is poor, and service practically non-existent, yet
we certainly could not complain as to the amount we had to
pay as mla, or rent, which, apart from supplies purchased,
was only a chegye, or half a trangka, approximately x\d.. and
this for a party of five people 1

Our two companions were too small a party to form a camp¬
fire of their own and so joined in our circle. This forced me
to take a seat behind the others, for now that my goggles were
off I was afraid that the light from the brazier might show up
my eyes if I came too near. This position also allowed me to
hear everything that was said without taking too active a part
in the proceedings.

The company sat talking and sipping chang some time after
the meal was concluded. There were no chairs, of course, and
the traveller sat either on the bare floor or on some of the
saddle-carpets which they had brought with them. When
the time came to break up, the nemo was called in and every-
thing paid for, as we intended to start early the next morning
before it was light. We then proceeded to prepare ourselves

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

156

for the night. Bedclothes are never furnished by the rest-
house, so that every traveller in Tibet is forced to bring his
own. This, of course, was no difficulty to us, for now that we
were indoors and had no longer the cold night winds to contend
with, the blankets we had with us sufficed, though, unfortu¬
nately, it was necessary to give " Satan ” all of my blankets,
while I had to take the place he had formerly held and share
blankets with Lhaten. In place of a bed, a Tibetan carpet of
conventional size—generally 5J feet by 2 feet—^is spread out
on the floor. Sometimes by the richer classes two or three of
such carpets will be used, so as to counteract the hardness of
the floor. Either no piUow at all is used, or else one of the
saddles or smaller packs wiU be placed under the head. For
covering there is the usual sheepskin blanket, the furry side
being laid underneath, or next the body.

Following Tibetan custom, all of us slept in our clothes,
though the sash which acts as a belt is either loosened or
completely discarded; yet I noticed that one of two of the
party in the other corner of the room preferred to follow a
custom which is not uncommon among certain of the Dro-pas,
or nomads, and stripped themselves stark naked, placing
their clothes over them as an additional protection.

The Dro-pas not infrequently sleep on their stomachs,
sometimes with their knees drawn up under them in a curious
crouching position, but I noticed that all of our party slept
either on their backs or sides, but always stretched out straight.
This, curiously enough, proved one of my greatest trials. I
had long got into the habit of sleeping more or less curled up,
so that when lying perfectly straight I found it difficult to get
to sleep. But as I heard that sleeping with doubled-up legs
was never done in Tibet, I was forced to try and accommodate
myself to new conditions. Incidentally, as I was in possession
of but half a blanket, any attempt at curling up meant that
knees or feet were exposed to the bitter night cold.

The next morning our two trader friends initiated us into
the routine of true Tibetan travelling. I knew that we had
agreed upon an early start, but I was certainly surprised when
I woke up at two o’clock the next morning to find that the others
were already up and making preparations for getting away.
The Tibetans are accustomed to making incredibly long marches

ON TO SHIGATSE

157

every day, and in order to cover the necessary distance
they rise long before sunrise in order to get as much as
possible of the march over before the afternoon winds
set in.

Arrangements for departure proved very short and simple.
We had not a mouthful to eat or drink before undertaking our
long march. I have long been a convert to the “ continental
breakfast ”•—a cup of coffee and a roll, instead of the porridge
and ham and eggs with which most sturdy Britons load up
their stomachs before beginning their work, so that I had no
yearning for a heavy meal at that time of day, but I should
certainly have welcomed a large bowl of tea as a stimulant.
However, when I faintly suggested such a plan, it was at once
negatived by our companions, and they were astonished that
anyone should have thought of the idea.

Needless to say, no time was wasted in washing. There
were no facilities for doing so even if we had felt inclined.
Most Tibetans never touch their bodies with water during the
whole course of their lives, and become practically encased
in a layer of fat and dirt which served the usual function of
keeping out the cold. In this connection it may be added
that from the time I entered Tibet until I entered Lhasa I
found it impossible to wash even my hands or my face. Tibe¬
tans find the layer of dirt by no means objectionable, and are
even proud of it. They believe that such a layer not only
keeps the cold out, but also keeps the luck in, and in many
parts of the country a young man wants to be sure that his
bride-elect has not washed this luck-covering away. Not
infrequently the natural layer will be supplemented by smearing
the body with butter or sheep’s fat.

As a final proof that washing brings bad luck, I was once,
while in Gyangts^, told the story of a young woman who
thought she knew better than her elders and insisted on washing
herself. The heavenly Buddhas and Bodhisattvas were
evidently displeased with this unfilial presumption, and sent
her an attack of pneumonia from which she died.

As though conscious that some criticisms might be levelled
against them, however, the Tibetans have a common proverb,
“ The Tibetan is black outside but white inside, and the
foreigner is white outside but black inside,”

158 TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

On this particular morning we were greatly helped by the
fact that the moon was shining very brightly, because other¬
wise we should have had the troublesome task of loading our
mules in the dark; but at the same time the night cold was so
intense that our hands were numbed and it took some time for
us to tie the straps together, for our fingers refused to perform
their function.

We then struck out on our journey, which continued down
the narrow vaUey worn out by the Re River on its way down
to the Brahmaputra. We had to cross and recross the stream
several times, but this offered no great difficulty, for the river
was covered with very coarse and corroded ice, and was not
very slippery.

I did not feel it necessary to separate myself from our
Tibetan companions as on the previous day. In the first place,
in spite of the moonshine, it was very difficult to see one
another’s face, and secondly, I had now established friendly
relations with them, and having heard our story they were
quite willing to accept us as they found us. I discovered these
travellers to be extraordinarily kindly, simple, naive people,
completely ignorant and grossly superstitious, but quite willing
to accept life as it came to them. The old man carried a prayer-
wheel in his hand which he kept constantly turning, thereby
laying up an enormous store of merit for himself, and he
occasionally ejaculated the sacred formula of Tibet: “ Om
mani peme hung,” spelt " Om mani padme hum,” to make
up for delinquencies which the prayer-wheel might have left
untouched.

The younger man, although nearly forty years of age, had
not yet reached the stage of piety, and instead of religious
exercise occasionally flicked his horse with the whip which he
carried, and varied this proceeding by now and then bursting
into song.

The leather used for all straps and whips is made from
yak-hide, which the Tibetans have learned to cure in such a way
as to make it soft. Most of the whips are only two or three feet
long. Many of them have handles between one and two feet
in length, made either of wood or more commonly of bamboo.
The bamboo, and a good deal of the wood, is brought in from
Sikkim.

ON TO SHIGATSE 159

The songs which our friend sang were not at all pious, in fact
they were distinctly ribald, being chiefly in praise of the merits
of chang and pretty ladies. I was surprised that his father did
not seem to take any notice of them, but perhaps the old man
was of the opinion that his religious exercises were sufficient to
cover the sins of the family, and so let his son go on unchecked.

Although all my servants were very religious, with the
possible^exception of “ Satan,” who was too much of a priest
to take religion very seriously, I noticed that they gave expres¬
sion to their ardent admiration of the wit hidden in the songs.
One of the worst of these lyrics “ Satan ” insisted on learning
then and there. In the meantime I was troubled by a matter
of a quite different kind. The walnut-juice and iodine I had
used for my face and body had proved very satisfactory, but
the " hair-restorer ” had already shown signs of weakness, the
glossy black hue had begun to fade, and I was afraid that any
application of water to the hair would wash out the dye and
leave the original brown colour. That morning, owing to the
cold, I had wrapped my face up so well in a Tibetan scarf that
even my nose and mouth were covered and my breath came
directly on my beard. So bitterly cold was it that the moisture
from the breath collected on the beard and froze, making a
hard icicle of the whole of the beard. I had not minded this at
the time, but later on, when the sun appeared and it became
warmer, the icicle began to melt, and I was afraid that the thaw
would also take some of the dye away. Carefully examining as
much as I could of my beard, I found to my horror that this
was so, and that the colour had become very streaky. I cursed
the well-known makers of the " guaranteed hair-restorer ” at
great length to myself. In our luggage there was stiU another
bottle of it, but until our next stop I would not be able to get
at it and repair the damage. In the meantime it was necessary
to bind the scarf even more tightly around the beard so as to
hide it from sight.

About nine o’clock we came to a point where the valley
widened out considerably, and the river was joined by a
tributary which came in from the right and which had its origin
not far from Gyangtse. A village lay at the junction,

I noticed something strange about this village, but could not
at first explain what it was that made it seem out of the

i6o

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

ordinary. Then I realized that for the first time since entering
Tibet we had met with trees. It was only a small clump of
trees, a dozen at the outside, bare and bleak in their winter
undress, but it was indeed a joy to see them. It is only in the
Brahmaputra basin and its connecting-valley systems that one
sees any trees at aU, and here they are only kept alive by
attentive cultivation. A wild, natural-growing tree is unknown.
What trees there are in Tibet, it is interesting to note, are
nearly all deciduous, evergreens not being able to stand the
bitter winter weather.

I had hoped that we would stop at the pleasant village, for
by this time I was ravenously hungry, but our guides kept
steadily on for another two hours, during which time we passed
two other villages, before, at last, they stopped in front of a
large isolated farmhouse, where they said we had to rest
for an hour and eat our first meal.

At last, I thought and prayed, we should be able to go
upstairs to a room which would be somewhat private and also
in semi-darkness, but we had to stay in the courtyard under fuU
public gaze, and we were soon surrounded by a host of young¬
sters, who were anxious to inspect the newcomers, and who
passed audible comments upon our appearance. In these
circumstances I was doubly afraid to expose my streaky beard,
and instead of unwinding my scarf as the others did, I pretended
to have toothache in addition to all my other troubles—tooth¬
ache, owing to lack of dentists, is very common in Tibet—and
resolutely stuck to my wrapping and buried my face in my
hands as well, giving vent to occasional short moans. This
seemed to amuse the children, who shouted, " The coolie has
got toothache ; the worms have got at his teeth.” But soon
their attention became directed to poor " Diogenes’ ” feet and
I was once more left in peace.

The woman brought the yak-dung brazier out; this time it
was of earthenware, not of iron, and before long our simple
meal was ready.

The Tibetan peasants are very irregular in the time of their
meals. There were no definite times for eating. Food is
prepared whenever they feel particularly hungry, but generally
speaking they are content, especially when travelling, with
two meals a day : one is eaten shortly before noon, and the

ON TO SHIGATSE i6i

other at the end of the day’s march, which is nsually shortly
before dusk.

These two meals consist almost invariably of the same
food • meat, barley, and tea. The meat eaten in Tibet
is either yak’s flesh or mutton. A haunch is left outside
to freeze, and this preserves it to a certain extent for several
months, though the recurrent heat of the day causes it to thaw
sufficiently to become putrescent. At night it freezes again,
a process which repeats itself as long as the meat lasts. The
Tibetans do not object to the semi-putrescent, as they consider
that the taste is in this way improved. Occasionally the meat
is cooked, but for the most part the peasants prefer to eat it
raw, hacking off small pieces with their great knives. They
eat it with their fingers.

The tea is of a very coarse kind. It is all imported, chiefly
from China in the form of compressed bricks. As it is difficult
to make leaves stick together, the tea is mixed with small
quantities of yak-dung, which acts as a cement. A portion
will be broken off a tea-brick and thrown in the water to boil.
After it has bubbled for some time a huge mass of butter will
be added, and at the same time a small quantity of soda and
salt This is thoroughly mixed, and then allowed to boil again
for several minutes. Needless to say, the use of milk and
sugar is unknown. Sometimes sheep’s fat will take the place
of butter. In any case the butter, which is made from the
yak’s milk, is invariably rancid. It is kept for months and
even years before being used. As with us wine, so with the
Tibetans butter is considered to be improved by age. This
buttered tea is consumed in increasing quantities, and served
as a food as well as drink.

The barley-grains are first parched and ground into very
fine flour. A handful of this flour is poured into the tea and
kneaded with the fingers into dough-balls. The aristocrats of
Tibet have become addicted to certain Chinese dishes, but the
peasant is forced to content himself with the above diet all
the year around. Fish and fowl are considered too filthy to
be eaten. Vegetables are unknown. Raw putrid meat,
buttered tea, and barley-flour do not constitute a very appetiz¬
ing meal, but a march of thirty miles dulls the senses to every
feeling except that of hunger, so I ate with avidity. “ Satan,”

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

162

as master, was able to purchase from the rest-house some
Chinese delicacy, but as I was forced to eat in company with
Tibetan peasants, I did not dare to secure any of this for
myself.

While Lhaten was getting out our barley and meat, I
whispered to him to secure the bottle of hair-dye as well.
He did so and managed to hand it to me without anyone
noticing the action. I at once hid it away inside of my bosom.
Lhaten saw that I wanted a little time in private to use the
dye, and while the others were reloading the mules, he ordered
me in a loud voice to take up my load and go on ahead, as I
was so confoundedly slow and he did not wish me to lag behind.

I seized upon the hint and hobbled off as fast as I could.
When out of sight of the farmhouse, I sat down and quickly
repaired the damage which my beard had suffered earlier in
the day, and at last I was able to discard my scarf.

CHAPTER XIV

THE ROAD OF ENCHANTMENT

Not long afterwards the river crossed my path again.
Coming towards me, on the other side, was a huge peasant
accompanied by a tiny wife. The man was easily 6 feet
3 inches in height, while his wife must have been under 5 feet.
The contrast was startling. In the central parts of Tibet the
inhabitants generally are rather short, an inch or two under
the average height in England, so I judged this fellow or his
ancestors must have come from Kham, the great eastern
province of Tibet, where most of the inhabitants are extremely
tall, and many of them attain to even gigantic size. This
giant peasant was obviously in a hurry, for he came along at
a great pace, but with his immense stride he seemed to have no
difficulty in covering the ground. Not so his poor wife, who,
with her short steps, had literally to run in order to keep up
with her spouse. He seemed little worried by her exertions,
and occasionally gave her a push to make her go faster, so I
was surprised at the gallantry he showed when he came to
the river. The ice was here too thin to bear any weight and
broke through at every footstep. Not in the least perturbed
by this, and seeing his wife hesitate, he picked her up with
one hand in a most casual fashion and, tucking her under
his arm as if she were a sack of flour, carried her over and
deposited her on dry ground not far off from where I was
standing.

I wished very much that I could be conveyed across in a
similar fashion, but for me there was no help but to wade
through the icy stream, the freezing water of which came
up to my knees. I was afraid to take off my shoes and
stockings, which as they became soaking wet made me feel

163

i64 to LHASA IN DISGUISE

extremely uncomfortable afterwards, and I had to walk
very fast to prevent the water which they retained from
freezing.

I now began to be overtaken by a number of mounted
parties, who seemed to be riding to a village in the distance.
All the members of these bands of travellers had on their
“ Sunday-go-to-meeting ” clothes, made of siUc imported from
China. As they passed me they all stared very inquisitively,
and certainly I must have presented a very drab appearance.
As many of them obviously belonged to the official class,
local headmen and landowners, against whom I had to be
especially on my guard, I was afraid that their curiosity might
lead them to more active steps of inquiry. So I decided to
wait till my party came up, when I should have someone
who could answer any questions, and so I departed from
the road and lay hidden in a ditch until I heard the
voices of Lhaten and “ Satan ” engaged, as usual, in a
fierce argument.

Thereafter our march continued for some time without
further incident, save that before long the river had again to
be crossed. Still suffering from the previous crossing, I
heartily cursed the Tibetans for making their roads cross
streams so frequently, particularly as at no place was there
a bridge. “ Satan,” of course, on his pony, had no difficulty,
and even the gyepo, or old Tibetan, who was still with us,
mounted his loaded horse long enough to cross the stream
with dry feet; but when I attempted to do the same with
one of our mules, the sinful creature kicked out so lustily
and made such a commotion that I was once more forced to '
wade through the icy water.

Another hour and a half brought us to the village towards
which I had seen the people riding. We found it an insig¬
nificant place depending for its existence upon the large
monastery of Ragyimpa, which lay stretched up the side of
the hill beyond.

There seems to be a curious disposition of territory between
castles, monasteries, and villages in Tibet. A village is nearly
always placed on a flat plain or in a valley, but whenever
possible at the foot of some mouiitain. A monastery is nearly
always built on the slope of a mountain, neither on the top

THE ROAD OF ENCHANTMENT 165

nor at the base, while the castles are nearly always placed at
the very summit of a low-lying but precipitous hill. The site
selected, whenever such can be found, is preferably a hill set
in the middle of a plain, so that from the castle ramparts a
clear sweep of the horizon may be obtained.

The village we now entered was astir and we saw a large
number of people going up to the monastery. There was
obviously some great religious festival taking place, which had
attracted people from all over the countryside.

In this connection the relation that exists between the villages
and the monasteries must not be forgotten.

The religious houses of Tibet are not temples, properly
speaking, but monasteries, inside the walls of which are
temples. These are the principal colleges of the monasteries,
where the mysterious Tantrik rites and occult ceremonies
of the Tibetan religion are taught and celebrated.

Every morning the monks foregather in the temples for
services, but no sermons are preached, except on rare special
occasions. There are one or two minor exceptions to the above,
such as, for example, the Cho-Kang at Lhasa. The religious
officials of Tibet, therefore, are not rightly called priests; they
are more correctly monks. There is no parochial work, and
the monasteries and their temples are not for the inhabitants
of neighbouring villages or towns, but for the monks them¬
selves and the novitiates. The village will have its shrine, or
shrines, and its prayer-wheel perhaps, but the great religious
house is built away from ordinary habitation, and while the
sick or dying peasant will call in a holy man to read prayers,
and maybe administer relic-pills, certain herbal medicines, and
mediaeval concoctions, his messenger may have a ten-mUe
journey to the monastery.

As already mentioned, the monasteries are built on hillsides.
Sometimes the outer walls of the monastery will reach down
to the valley, with the various buildings, attained by stone
steps, stretching one over the other high up the mountain-side,
the topmost building generally being the storehouse, where are
kept huge quantities of dried flesh, goat, yak, sheep, and other
carcases, etc., which are for the provisioning of the inmates.

Within the enclosure, a great wall pierced by gates facing
the cardinal points of the compass, are the dwelling-hous es of

i66

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

the monks, the colleges, and the great hall where worship is
practised. This main hall, with its carving and frescoes, its
roof supported by wooden pillars, carved and decorated,
contains images of the Buddhas on engraved wooden and metal
altars, before which butter-lamps are continually burning.
Here, too, are the effigies of departed abbots (as at Gyangtse)
aU along the walls, and the great picture of the Buddhist
deities (as at Trashi Lhumpo), which are brought out in
the months of June and November and hung on the
outer walls.

The tombs containing the embalmed bodies of head lamas
long passed are within the walls; the libraries, offices, punish¬
ment-cells, shrines, and such buildings, all go to make up a
small thriving township, with lanes and byways, and centrally
situated the great courtyard or square, where take place the
outdoor ceremonies and religious dances.

About the hillsides on which the monastery stands are seen
small solitary buildings, the isolated cells of contemplative
monks, who dislike intrusion and interruption of their vigils,
while at the foot, up against the great wall, are built the lodging-
houses and club-rooms for the monks and pilgrims who may
come in from all parts of the country. These club-rooms
are curious: the monks form themselves into societies or
unions, and each such has its separate and distinct meeting¬
house. On the wall itself, and sometimes on the top of
one of the main buildings, may be found chortens, or
pagodas.

Over the monastery is set the chief lama, who, in the case of
the larger and more important monastic communities, is him¬
self an incarnate Buddha, a personage of considerable power,
and under him a number of assistant chief lamas. The ge~
longs and other inmates of the monasteries form influential
bodies politically, and do not refrain from violence in espousing
this or that particular cause. Their numbers are extraordinary,
the two large monasteries near Lhasa containing about 6,000
(Sera) and 10,000 (Drepung) inmates.

While the chief monasteries are largely endowed with lands,
and are mainly stone-built—though sometimes sun-dried brick
is used in construction—and imposing, the lesser gompas are
poor, mean, and of nd architectural importance, being oft-times

monks at morn

THE ROAD OF ENCHANTMENT 167

insignificant collections of buildings, or just a square block,
housing a few monks.

Shortly after passing this point, we left the main-river course
and went up a side-valley which led to the right. If we had
followed the river to its mouth, we should have reached the
Brahmaputra some miles to the west of Shigatse, so we decided
to take a short-cut which led over a mountain pass. Once
more the road lay gradually uphill, but it was many weary
hours before we reached the ape.x: of the slope and the pass itself.
On the way I commenced to be beset by new troubles, this time
of a physical nature.

So far my constitution had stood up wonderfully well under
the enormous physical strain to which it had been subjected.
I had appeared to be able to stand even more than my servants.
The early symptoms of dysentery which I had experienced in
the passes had worn off, I had hoped for good, but suddenly
that afternoon they returned with increased vigour, and each
new spasm seemed to sap all my strength. I began to fall
behind the others, and only by a terrific effort of will was I able
to force myself to go on in the endeavour to keep my party in
sight.

To make matters worse, my feet began to suffer fearfully
from blisters. The wetting which my shoes and my feet had
had earlier in the day was probably responsible for most of the
damage, for nothing makes for blisters more than walking in
wet shoes. Finally, two of the blisters broke and the agony
caused by the shoes rubbing against the raw flesh was too much
for me: I puUed my shoes off and started to walk with bare
feet. This scarcely improved matters, as the sharp stones cut
my feet badly and the lacerated soles left bloody footprints
behind them. As night drew on, and the sun disappeared, the
cold nipped at my toes and I was afraid I should fall into the
plight of poor “ Diogenes,” who was now suffering terribly
from his feet. But the terror of being left behind drove me on,
and at last I came up with the others, who had waited for me
just on the near side of the actual pass.

The last two hundred yards were very precipitous, and we
had great difficulty in getting our loaded animals over it.
Poor " London,” the mule which had been limping for several
days past, found the task impossible, so we had to unload her

158 lU LHASA m DISGUISE

and distribute her burden over our own already-overtaxed
backs—faithful old Lhaten taking the bulk of it.

After incredible exertion, we eventually reached the top of
the pass known as the Nambula. The whole of the Brahma¬
putra basin lies much lower than any other part of Tibet,
so that even this steep pass was only 14,800 feet above sea-
level.

Unlike the gradual ascent on the hither, or south, side, the
descent proved extraordinarily steep and very stony. As
I was now able to move only very gingerly, I whispered to
Lhaten to go on ahead with Satan'' and our companions,
while the syce, '' Diogenes,'' and I brought up the rearguard.
This was done, and when at last I got to the bottom of the
slope and arrived at the village of Nambudzong, I found that
the main party had been there some time and that eveiything
was in readiness for our accommodation.

The name Nambudzong implies the existence of a dzong,
or castle, but I found that this was only a memory of
the distant past, that the fortress had long fallen into
decay and that the place was no longer the centre of an
administration.

Unlike most Tibetan houses, which arc built around a court¬
yard, the rest-house in which we were staying resembled more
an English farmhouse, in that it was one compact building
with the stables and storehouse in a wall-enclosed yard on the
outside.

On arriving, I found that the house was filled with people,
and that one of the parties within consisted of a Kampa Dzong
official and his suite on his way back from Shigats6. I was so
very anxious to avoid any such person, and felt so ill and so
weary after our journey of over thirty miles, that I was in no
mood for carrying on my disguise, and so I decided that, on
the excuse of overcrowding, Diogenes " and I should spend
the next night in one of the stables near to the animals, and
this plan was duly carried out. Poor Lhaten must have
noticed my disgust for the raw flesh which I was supposed to
eat, and he managed, in secret, to grill me some meat—^mutton,
of course—and his cooking was so good that it thoroughly
disguised the offensive putrid taste which it otherwise would
have had.

THE ROAD OF ENCHANTMENT 169

Not long afterwards I fell into a long, heavy, but troubled
sleep interspersed with nightmares. I began to cry out in my
sleep, and “ Diogenes ” slumbering beside me, was awakened
by the noise. In the circumstances he displayed more sense
than I had given him credit for by waking me up, lest I should
make some sound which might betray my nationality.

The whole party was, I think, exhausted by the endeavour
of the previous day, for the next morning we made, for
Tibetans, a late start, it being nearly six o’clock before we
moved off. Before our departure the syce, to whom I had
communicated my troubles, bought for me a new pair of
Tibetan boots, as I thought they would be softer than the
shoes I had been wearing.

In a few instances the Tibetan boots are made out of leather.
Those which “ Diogenes ” had bought in Kampa Dzong were
of this order ; of a different shape and size, but also of leather,
are the boots which most of the monks around Lhasa wear;
but for the most part Tibetan boots are made of closely-
woven wool, with or without a thin layer of leather on
the sole.

They reach to a point a little below the knee, and are held
up by two thm woollen bands, often prettily embroidered.
The major part of these woollen boots is dyed red, but is
frequently faced with sections of other colours. Variations
in colour have in most cases a ceremonial significance. Priests’
boots, when made of wool, are of one pattern and colour, those
made for laymen of another. In most cases those made for
women are faced with green, a colour that seems reserved for
the fairer sex.

These woollen boots are very comfortable for wear indoors,
but are less adequate for outdoor service. They absorb and
retain water. The wind seems to penetrate through the pores
of the wool, and finally the thinness of the sole allows every
stone and pebble over which one walks to be felt.

My new boots were indeed an improvement, but even they
were so painful that I once more tried the experiment of
going barefooted. But not for long; the reopening, by
the stones, of the wounds of the preceding day was even
more of a misery than the Tibetan boots, and so I pulled
them on again.

170 TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

" Diogenes ” fared even worse than I did. The long
journey had told cruelly on his frostbitten feet, and though
he uttered scarcely a murmur and did his utmost to keep up
with us, he began to lag behind. This did not please " Satan ”
at all, and he turned his pony round and, riding back, gave the
miserable boy several lashes with his whip, and threatened
even more dire punishments unless he kept up with the party.
I felt deeply outraged at this callousness, but with our com¬
panions standing by there was nothing that I could do, and
so I had to content myself with whispering to him as he
came up that, however severe his trials might be at present,
I would liberally reward him when the adventure had come
to an end.

We soon found ourselves in a wide, flat valley, and the country
assumed a more prosperous appearance. Another mile or
two farther on our road ran into and joined the great highway
which runs from Shigatse to the west. Along this rolls the
stream of traffic which connects Central Tibet with the upper
portions of the Brahmaputra River and the sacred Manasarowar
Lakes, where go every year thousands of people on pilgrimage.
Still farther beyond this Tibetan “ Mecca,” the highway runs
until it reaches Leh, in Ladak, and even into the dreamy
Valley of Kashmir.

It is indeed the high-road of enchantment, and once we were
on it we met, or were passed by, a steady stream of traffic.
There flew past us a swift Government courier carrying messages
and orders to far-away Governors in the unknown west. We
had no fear that he would stop to parley with us, for by a
system of relay horses he was bound to cover a hundred miles
a day. Buxom matrons, living in some village lying near, were
returning from marketing in Shigatse, each covered with cheap
trinkets and bright-coloured beads, which she had purchased
after enormous bargaining at some open stall. Some came
riding sedately on ponies and mules, and others trudged sturdily
along in twos and threes, and compared trinket with trinket
and talked volubly of the prices they had paid for each, and of
the marvellous reductions they had secured as the result of
their ready wit and voluble tongue. Then we would overtake
a small body of Nepalese workers in metal, who had been sent
for by the Grand Lama himself to cast a bell for his monastery,

THE ROAD OF ENCHANTMENT 171

for which the cunning of his own craftsmen was not sufficient;
then a body of Kashmiri Mohammedans, taking advantage of
their proud privilege to bring rare goods in great mule-caravans
for sale to the aristocracy of Shigatse and Lhasa; pilgrims
galore, going in either direction, spinning their prayer-wheels
and telling their rosaries at a dizzy speed, monks and laymen
alike. There came also trotting by, on a long lank mare, the
bursar of a monastery, lean and hard of face, out to collect rents
for his establishment and to drive a cruel bargain as a money¬
lender on his own.

Small caravans of every sort, with yaks, mules, ponies, and
donkeys, passed by : donkeys wete particularly notifceable, for
in this part of Tibet local traffic is largely carried on by their
means. Tiny things they are, but many a peasant went riding
by on one: the man twice the size of the animal, and only
having to stand up to be free of his mount; and last, but
exceedingly interesting, a herd of sheep, also used to transport
heavy loads, for Tibetan sheep are strong and are frequently
used as beasts of burden.

The interest of the highway and its travellers helped to while
away the long dreary hours of the morning march, but I was
nearly dropping from fatigue and weakness when at last we
stopped at a little village not far from the famous Nartang
Monastery, which we could see quite clearly from the road.

Nartang owes its fame to its printing-press. Here' are
printed most of the books which are to be found in every
respectable monastery throughout the land. Lhasa has also
its printing-press, and some Tibetan books are printed in the
Lama Monastery of Peking, but neither of these places can vie
with Nartang for fame.

Tibet has a large literature, but almost all of it of a religious
character, and a large part of it consists of translations of works
originally written in India in Sanskrit. The originals of these
works have, in most cases, been lost, so that the students of
ancient Indian literature, history, customs, and thought must
turn to the Tibetan canon for purposes of research.

There are a large nxxmber of isolated and individual works,
but most of the better-known and more authoritative works are
incorporated in two collections or canons, called " Kangyur ”
and “ Tengyur.”

lU i^tiAbA IN DISGUISE

±yz

The '' Kangyur '' [lit, Bkah-g3mr/' or '' The Rendering of
the Word'' of the Buddha himself] consists of loo (sometimes
printed as io8) volumes of approximately a thousand pages
each, and comprises 1,083 separate works. All of these are
translated from Sanskrit, a few indirectly through Chinese, and
are supposed to be a record of the actual discourses of the
historical Buddha, though the Higher Criticism will not allow
this claim for an instant. Thirteen volumes deal with the
vinaya, or canon law affecting the discipline and organization
of the monks, while the remaining volumes consist of very
long-winded discourses upon religion and morals.

The Tengyur'' [lit. Bstan-gyur,'' or '' Rendering of the
(Traditional) Teachingsis usually printed in 225 volumes,
and is the official commentary and interpretation given of the

Kangyur.'' This collection also consists of a large number
of separate works. Many of them were composed by
Nagayuna, Asamgha, and Vasubandhu, and others consist of
original works written by prominent Tibetan worthies. This
collection shows us something of the rational and philosophical
side of Buddhism. The crudities and absurdities of the
'' Kangyur " are softened down. In addition to works of a
purely exegetical and philosophical nature, the '' Tengyur "
contains books dealing with music, grammar, rhetoric, prosody,
medicine, mechanics, and alchemy, all of which formed part of
Buddhism in its mediaeval development.

Most of these works were translated or composed between
the ninth and the fourteenth century a.d., the period of
Tibet's greatest literary achievements. Modern literature is
very scrappy and inferior, and consists chiefly of pious tracts
and biographies of various important lamas.

As we were halting only for an hour, we had once more to
content ourselves with eating in the courtyard, instead of
withdrawing to the privacy of a room above. One of the sons
of the nemo, a youth of about eighteen years of age, hearing that
we came from Sikkim, took a lively interest in us, but in quite
a friendly way. In fact, he was infected with the Wanderlust,
and asked Satan " to engage him as an extra servant in order
that he might travel along and see the country and evehtually
return with us to Sikkim. From Sikkim he had even thoughts
of going down into India, where the terrible Chiling kyi mi

THE ROAD OF ENCHANTMENT 173

(foreigners, i.e. English) live, and h.e wanted to know if we had
met any, and whether they were as terrible as all the stories of
them made out. I rather liked the boy for his general bright¬
ness and interest in life, in contrast to the sodden, sullen
stupidity which characterizes most of the population, but
to take him along with us was out of the question: even
“ Satan,” in spite of his high-handedness, saw this, and
put him off.

" Diogenes,” the gyepo, and I departed earlier than the others,
leaving them to pay the bUl and to reload the animals. As
we passed down the village street, I felt so stupefied by the
prospect of another long afternoon’s march that I scarcely
noticed a mdndang, or prayer-wall, in the middle of the street
and started to pass to the right of it. I had still my dark
goggles on, and the old man, believing implicitly in the story
that I was still half blind as the result of the snow, shouted out
to me that the prayer-wall existed and that I was passing it
on the wrong side. This startled me into my right senses,
and I quickly swerved to the left, passing the sacred wall in
orthodox fashion.

In Tibet respect to a person or thing is shown by always
keeping it on one’s right-hand side. In circumambulating
any religious edifice—and this is considered an act of great
merit—^it is proper always to pass round from left to right,
“ clock-wise,” which is also the direction in which the prayer-
wheel should be turned. Any deviation from this rule is
considered an act of outrageous blasphemy.

These prayer-walls are very common in Tibet. They
consist of a thick stone or sun-dried brick wall, of varying
length, sometimes a few yards long and sometimes stretching
for a quarter of a mUe or more. They are frequently placed
in the middle of the high-road, so that travellers may acquire
merit merely by passing them in the prescribed way. In some
cases prayer-wheels are set in the walls, and in nearly all
cases the sides are ornamented with sacred inscriptions, or
with bas-relief sculptures representing various Buddhas and
Bodhisattvas.

As it is considered an act of great merit to erect such a
prayer-wall, they are to be seen in the neighbourhood of
nearly every village.

174 TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

Thereafter the course of the afternoon’s march went fairly
smoothly. The other members of the party caught us up,
and we journeyed on and on, though at every moment I thought
I would have to give up.

A great sturdy drokpa fell in with us, and journeyed with us
a good part of the way. Instead of the ordinary clothes made
of woven wool which are worn by the townsfolk and the
villagers, this fellow’s clothes were entirely of sheep’s fur, the
skin on the outside and the fur next to his skin. His coat was
also much shorter than those worn by the townsmen, only
reaching to his hips, so that his trousers, of the same material,
were very much in evidence.

He was nearly six feet tall, carried a long sword, and was
extremely fierce-looking, and most of our party were much
afraid of him ; but he soon embarked on amiable conversation
and gradually told us his life-story. He confessed that in
addition to looking after his flocks on the Chang Tang, he had
frequently acted as a brigand, and had amassed quite a little
fortune in that way. Recently he had fallen very ill, and
believing his disease to be a punishment from the gods, he had
decided to come on pilgrimage to Shigats6 and thereby wipe
out his sins, without in any way having to get rid of his ill-
gotten gains.

He kept alongside of us for some time, but as our progress
was slow and he wanted to get to the city before nightfall, he
left us later.

In the middle of the plain we came across another wide,
shallow river, but this time, learning by experience, I took off
my boots before crossing it, and consequently did not experience
the same ill-effects as the preceding day. Later in the afternoon
we came to the end of the valley plain and had to ascend another
pass. This was not nearly so difficult or so steep, but as the
result of the dysentery my weakness had come on me so fast
that I had to hold on to the tail of “ Satan’s ” pony and be
almost pulled up the incline.

Once we were over the top, however, I felt rewarded for all
the misery which I had undergone, for there at the end of the
valley, only some five miles away, we could see the huge mass
of buildings constituting Trashilhumpo, the famous Shigats6
monastery. The city of Shigats6 itself was hidden behind a

THE ROAD OF ENCHANTMENT 175

hill a mile or so farther on, but I knew then that at last we had
come to the end of the first stage of our journey, and that even
if we never got to Lhasa, the adventure would not have been
altogether in vain.

CHAPTER XV

SHIGATSE ONWARD

At the foot of the Trashilhumpo Monastery there is a tiny
village. In this our two Tibetan companions had a house.
By this time we had become such friends that they invited
us to make use of it during our stay in Shigatse instead
of going to a rest-house in the city proper. The invitation
we gladly accepted. We decided to spend the whole
of the next day (February 6) in Shigatsd in order to give
ourselves and the animals a much-needed rest. We thus
had the opportunity of looking about the city and entering
the monastery, to which so many thousands of pilgrims
come every year.

Central Tibet consists of two provinces, of Tsang in the west
and U (spelt Dbugs) in the east. The capital of the former is
Shigats^, of the latter Lhasa. Not long ago the two provinces
were practically independent states, and the abbot of the
Trashilhumpo Monastery is still the titular king of Tsang,
though now the Lhasa officials have managed to secure complete
control over this province as well as the other. Politically,
therefore, the Dalai Lama is greater than the Trashi Lama,
but religiously the two great abbots rank as equal. Owing
to the greater spiritual character of the Trashi Lama, many
Tibetans regard the Dalai Lama as merely the secular and the
Trashi Lama as the spiritual ruler of Tibet. I was, therefore,
delighted to hear that he would pass in procession through the
streets that afternoon, and by standing amongst the worship¬
ping crowd I managed to catch a glimpse of him. He was a
man with a very gentle and refined appearance, with a look
almost of shyness that fitted in well with his character as this
was reported, and with his post. The Trashilhumpo Monastery

176

SHIGATSE ONWARD

177

is generally considered the best-conducted in Tibet. It is
famous for its learning and attracts numerous monkish students
from all parts of the country, who seek to obtain the highly-
prized degree which it bestows. At present it numbers between
4,000 and 5,000 monks.

On the same day we purchased an aged donkey in the hope
of lightening our load for the remainder of the journey. In the
evening our hosts arranged to give us a farewell banquet. The
“ banquet ” consisted of larger quantities of the same foojd as
heretofore, this being washed down by copious draughts of
liquor. The Tibetans have two staple into.xicating drinks.
The first is chang, a mild beer brewed from barley, very refresh¬
ing after a long journey. The second is amk (not to be confused
with spirit of the same name known in other parts of the world),
the distilled form of chang. This latter is frightfully strong, and
generally proves too much even for hardened drinkers.

The arak very nearly proved our undoing. The evening
started in very jovial fashion. Broad jests with hilarious
Tibetan folk-songs followed one another in quick succession,
and the whole company soon became very maudlin. Both
Lhaten and “ Satan would drink only amk, despising the
weaker chang. They soon lost control of themselves, and
having become hopelessly drunk, chose this moment to start a
violent quarrel. From words they came to blows, and in the
end had to be forcibly separated. In the heat of their anger
they forgot their assumed r61es, and both appealed to me as
master to settle their dispute. I was nearly wild with terror
of being discovered, and if our hosts had not been such simple-
minded folk they would soon have grasped the true situation,
but in the end everything calmed down.

It was nearly one o’clock before everything was quiet once
more, but a calm sleep was impossible. I had no idea as to
how much of the situation the spectators may have understood,
and it was possible that they were only waiting for daylight to
inform the Shigatsd authorities of their suspicions. This fear
grew so strong in me, that, although I was mortally tired, as
soon as it began to get light, and long before the actual sunrise
took place, I got up and whispered to Lhaten that it was
imperative for us to get on the move at once. We got the
mules and the new donkey loaded and only woke “ Satan ” '

178 TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

when we were on the point of departure, and then hoisted him
into his saddle and on the road before he was sufficiently awake
to expostulate effectively.

Our road led right under the monastery and through the
city. Early as it was when we passed by the monastery we
could hear the low hum from a service taking place in the great
central hall—the services in a properly-conducted monastery
begin between three and four in the morning—and we con¬
stantly met pilgrims making a circumambulation of the whole
monastery in the prescribed “ clock-wise ” fashion. As they
did so some turned their prayer-wheels and others told their
rosaries—the rosary, generally with io8 beads, being much
valued by every branch of Tibetan Buddhism. Some of the
devotees were making the round at great speed, while others
stopped to make frequent prostrations.

We then passed through the heart of the city, once more seeing
the great dzong, which towers on high, and then struck to the
right down to the Nyang River.

To the right of us lay the Chinese graveyard, where several
hundred Chinese lay buried—an apt symbol of the extinct
suzerainty of China over Tibet. Some of these graves were old,
and covered the bodies of the Chinese who had suffered a natural
death during the old days prior to 1912, when there was a
garrison of Chinese soldiers and a small body of Chinese traders
in Shigats6. An even larger number of graves, however, were
filled by the Chinese inhabitants who were killed in the Tibetan
revolt of 1912, when Tibet declared her absolute independence
of China, and gave effect to this declaration by killing off as
many of the Celestials as possible and forcing the remainder to
return immediately back to the territory of the new Chinese
Republic.

For the most part these graves marked the resting-places of
middle- and lower-class Chinese. When a high official died,
his coffin was generally transported back to China, for it is the
highest ambition of every Chinaman, however far he may
wander during his lifetime, to sleep the long sleep of the dead
in his native land.

Curiously enough, there is no Tibetan graveyard in Shigats6
or, for that matter, anywhere else, for the Tibetans do not go
in for burials, A few of the very highest lamas are embalmed

SHIGATSE ONWARD

179

and are then gilded, to be placed in some temple to serve as an
object of worship. A few other lamas, of high but lesser rank,
are cremated in accordance with the old Indian Buddhist
custom ; but wood is too scarce in Tibet to allow cremation to
be practised extensively, and so the Tibetans have evolved
their own methods of disposing of the dead.

In certain instances the flesh is fed to the pigs and dogs;
kites and vultures join in the feast. The dogs are pariahs
which roam about every Tibetan town and village scavenging.
They are far different from the fierce mastiff breed of canine
used as guardians and for hunting.

The graveyards are special places set aside for funeral cere¬
monies. Here the dead bodies are brought out, spread on a
large stone slab face downwards, and hacked to pieces, to be
fed to the carrion birds and animals. To as.sure a good rebirth,
it is considered advisable that the corpse be devoured by birds
rather than by quadrupeds, and members of a rascally tribe
of beggars, known as “ Ragyabas,” who haunt the cemeteries,
will hire themselves out to keep off the four-footed scavengers
till the kites and vultures put in appearance, which is not
tardy, for they sense the dead from afar and foregather
quickly.

The first portion hacked off the dead body is fed to the oldest
vulture of the flock, which will waddle forward to receive its
reward when called. The birds are extremely tame, and
respond individually to the cry of the officiating lama. The
“ Ragyabas ’’ complete the dismembering of tlie body. Some¬
times the remains are buried, but this is an expensive business ;
more frequently the bones, and scraps left after the pigs have
gorged, will be interred where possible.

Before long we reached the river and crossed the clumsy
bridge which spans it. Both Shigatsd and GyangtS(S stand on
the Nyang River, and that morning I saw the same stream as
that which I had waded in at Gyangtse several months
earlier.

Shigats^ is supposed to be situated at the junction of the
Nyang and Brahmaputra Rivers, but really it is placed on the
Nyang itself, four miles from its confluence. The Tibetans,
in spite of their architectural precocity, have never arrived at
the use of the arch. All their doorways are supported by a

i8o

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

single beam resting on two pillars. This has proved no great
handicap in their house-building, but in bridges it seems that
a single span can never be more than ten yards across, so
that supporting mounds have to be placed in the river¬
bed every few feet. When the stream is rapid, these
supports are not infrequently washed away and have to
be replaced.

This particular bridge is called the Sampa Shar, or Eastern
Bridge, and is some 350 yards in length and 7 or 8 yards in
breadth. Slabs of earth-covered stones are placed on the
long wooden boards spanning the earthen supports.

“ Satan ” was stiU in a very bad temper. He must have
realized how much he had jeopardized the adventure, for he
took refuge in abusing the others. Fortunately he and I were
alone at the time, and I purposely kept him ahead of the party
until such time as everyone should have forgotten the events
of the preceding night.

I had a very good mind to tell him what I thought of
him, but I felt that to lose my temper in the circumstances
would be useless, so I contented myself with a few delicately-
phrased hints as to how such things should be done ,in the
future.

What particularly angered me was that he decided to change
hats with me that morning. Without a word of warning—I
was walking beside his pony—he seized my hat and placed his
own on my head, saying that, as mine was the finer-looking
cap, it was necessary for him to wear it, and nothing that I
could say would make him give it me back. What made my
cap so fine were the fur flaps, which could be pulled down and
which, though something of a luxury for a cooUe, served very
effectively to mask my head and face. " Satan’s ” cap was
without these flaps, and I felt much less safe in it. It is curious
how much of the ostrich there is in man : as long as my head
was swathed in leather flaps I felt content.

When at last our transport and the other servants caught
up with us, a few Billingsgate compliments were hurled at one
another by both parties, but the long morning walk had dulled
the edge of our tempers and I managed to patch up the peace.
Our two Shigats^ friends we had left behind, and we had
not yet fallen in with another caravan, so, at least for

trash I I,AM A

SHIGATSE ONWARD i8i

the time being, we did not have to wash our dirty linen in
public.

We did, indeed, meet a number of people on the road, but
for the most part these were local travellers, and we met no
one who was either going to or returning from Lhasa, for we
had once more departed from the highway and were taking
a short-cut. The official roadway from Shigatse to Lhasa
makes a long detour. Instead of following the Brahmaputra
River, the couriers and most travellers go down from Shigatse
to Gyangtse and then from Gyangtse strike once more north-east
to Lhasa. But I had no intention of passing through Gyangtse
again, and so we stuck to the short-cut, which for some extra¬
ordinary reason is very little used.

I had been so busy in Shigatse trying to see and learn as
much as possible that my stay there had given me very little
real rest, and the excitement of the previous night had done
me little good physically. As a result, not many miles after
leaving Shigatse I became so weary that I began to stumble
in my tracks. Even “ Satan ” noticed how near I was to the
end of my resources, and when we came to a long stretch where
no one was visible he suggested that I ride the pony for a bit,
while he walked. This sudden di.splay of warm-heartedness
on his part really surprised me, and I took it for an indirect
apology for the rumpus which he had caused the preceding
evening.

I gladly accepted his invitation, but it seemed as if some
angry fate was against me, for I had scarcely gone a hundred
yards when “ London,” the ailing mule, suddenly succumbed.
She had seemed much better for the rest and good fo(jd in
Shigatse, so that her sudden collapse was very unexpected.
We had now lost three out of the six animals with which we had
started, and we were still several days away from Lhasa. The
load which our new donkey was carrying consisted largely of
bundles which the two remaining mules were now too weak to
bear, so there was nothing to be done except for me to climb
down from my seat on the pony and to put the mule’s load on
to his back, while all of us walked. We stood over the fallen
mule for some time, trying to find out if anything could be
done, but shortly after she died, her last act being to launch
a vigorous kick at the syce’s .shins. This had its required

i 82

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

effect and the syce danced around in agony, so I think the
mule must have died happy.

Thereafter our march continued for mile after mile without
incident. The feeling that I had to get on kept me on my feet.
Thick heads and swollen, thirsty tongues made the journey
unpleasant for the others as well, but it was noon before we
came to a halting-place. This consisted of a small farmer’s
hut, one-storied and indescribably filthy, but we were allowed
to enter the main room of the house adjoining the courtyard
instead of remaining outside, as was usual for a midday halt,
and I lay down for an hour and rested my weary bones. In
the middle of the room there was already a pot of tea boiling,
so we did not even have to light a fire before sitting down to
a meal. The mixed cooking of Shigatsc was behind us, and
we returned once more to a diet of tea, barley-flour, and raw
meat.

The tea wc drank out of the bowls we brought with us.
Every Tibetan takes his own teacup along with him, carried
with other articles in his capacious bosom. This is curiously
in accord with modern sanitary ideas of individual drinking-
cups.

“ Satan,” as the master, drank his tea out of a very elaborate
affair. The top, or cover, and the stand, or saucer, consisted
of finely-beaten silver, while the cup itself (without handles,
of course, for no Tibetan cups have handles) consisted of earthen¬
ware. In some cases the cups of the wealthy are made from
porcelain, glass, or even from precious jade.

As servant, I had to be content with a simple wooden bowl
with neither top nor stand.

Before leaving, we purchased from the good housewife
another donkey, thinking thereby to ease our journey. Once
more our hopes ran high, but before long we found that we had
been badly " done.” Our new friend became more and more
slow in his paces and finally refused to go any farther. We
lightened his load and applied our whips, but he seemed to
remain in a state of meditation on the’ ineffable. After we
had gone only two or three miles, and .shortly after wo had
passed through the village of Pengma, the crisis came; our
obstinate purchase refused to be dragged or flogged another
step onward.

SHIGATSE ONWARD

183

I thought perhaps that he had been overworked earlier in
the day, before he was sold to us, or that he had not been given
sufficient food, so after a long discussion we agreed to let him
have a night’s respite, and all of us turned back and halted for
the night at the village of Pengma.

The villagers here turned out to be an unusually surly lot.
We tried at two or three rest-houses to get lodgings, but they
were already crowded, and we were ordered gruffly away.
Finally we were taken in at a place which was already housing
a number of monks on their way back from Shigatse to their
own monastery some miles farther down the river. They were
drinking very heartily and making such a noise that I thought
it better to camp in one of the stalls in the courtyard rather than
attempt the common-room with them. Once back in their
own monastery, they would have to lead a much calmer life,
where drinking was strictly prohibited, so that they were
probably having a last fling before returning to comparative
respectability.

Even in their festivities, however, they remained sullen.
Each village in Tibet seems to strike a keynote of its own, and
certainly that of Pengma was sullenness. I was disturbed to
find one embarrassing exception to this rule. The nemo, or
landlady, of the rest-house was a portly woman of about forty
years of age. In accordance with Tibetan custom she had
already five legal husbands, but she seemed, for some extra¬
ordinary reason, to find my appearance very pleasing, so that
in addition to playing the part of lama to my servants, of a
servant to the outside world, I had now to take on a new part
and play Joseph to Potiphar’s wife.

As in Tibet both winking “ the glad eye ” and kissing are
unknown, it can be seen from this how backward is the state
of Tibetan culture. I had often wondered how flirtation was
carried on, but I had no intention of finding out by too much
first-hand experience, and so I extricated myself out of my
difficulty as soon as I could. The filthiness which my lady
friend shared with all Tibetan women made it more than easy
to resist temptation.

Both polyandry and polygamy are practised in Tibet, and
monogamy has but few supporters. The different practices
are somewhat affected by conditions in various parts of the

JLO/j.

J^JOLASA iiN UibtrUlbJi

country, but the traditional joint-ownership of family property
is probably the strongest factor in the fixing of marital
relationships.

It is common for the wife taken by the eldest son of the family
to become the joint property of all the brothers, who share
responsibility. However, should a brother leave the family,
he is not entitled to compensation in respect of his share in the
wife. In fact, the relationship of the younger brothers to the
wife exists only so long aS they remain in the family.

There are occasions when the father or uncle of the husband
claims to live with the wife, and even—but as a general rule
only in higher circles—the father’s part-possession and marital
rights are recognised. It is less frequent that a woman
acknowledges husbands of two or more different families,
but examples of this form of polyandry are also to be
found.

The origin of the Tibetan form of polyandry, with its
desire to preserve the family property intact, is said to have
been with tjie Khams, and that the natives of the other
Tibetan provinces of Tsang and U developed the practice later.
This may well be so, for while amongst the Khams it is to all
intents and purposes universal, in the other two provinces it
is not so widely general. The womenfolk defend polyandry on
the ground that it gives the female more importance in the
community, and while polygamy is not unknown, the women
of the higher grades rather despise the comparatively help¬
less women of India and the polygamic rule under which
they live.

It is not a difficult matter to obtain divorce in Tibet, provided
the injured party desiring to sever the matrimonial bond is
prepared to pay for the accommodation. The divorce " fees ”
vary according to circumstances, but are governed by definite
laws. Should the husband desire to rid himself of his wife,
and make charges against her which are groundless, and the
wife is still content to live with her husband, he must pay to
her twelve gold sho (equal to about ninety rupees), and in
addition make over to her six pounds of barley for every day,
and an equal amount for every night, she has been with him
since the wedding-day. All presents made to the wife since
the wedding-day, or a sum equivalent to their value, must be

TIBETAN PRINCESS IN PRESS TIBi.I \N ARISU)CR\iS MOTHER AND DALGHTI K

SHIGATSE ONWARD 185

given to her, and she may retain all jewellery given her by her
relatives.

When the wife seeks divorce, and the husband is found
blameless and prepared to continue living with her, to obtain
her freedom she must pay an amount of money or goods equal
to double her settlement; but should the husband’s innocence
remain in doubt, the wife may pay him only a suit of clothes and
a pair of boots, bed-carpet, rug, and a scarf, the husband
handing his wife a scarf, or some other article agreed on.

On divorce, the husband takes the male offsprings of the
marriage, and the wife the female otf.springs, and the man, if
well enough off, may be charged to contribute to the upkeep
of his daughters ; while, should the wife have property, she will
have to consider the welfare of her sons.

These general arrangements apply more to the upper classes ;
they are much modified in the lower ranks. Where a man of
aristocratic rank has married a woman of meaner grade, but
with a distinct understanding as to equal po.ssessions, the
property is divided at a dissolution of marriage with a regard
to the degree of erring on either side. There are, however, so
many forms of marriage that these terms are liable to consider¬
able modification. For instance, the master decides the
destiny of serfs, and where a female of this class marries she
may be cast oft with one-sixth part of her husband’s goods
when she fails to be an asset in his household. Then there are
the temporary, generally pleasure marriages, the dissolution
of which is followed by an equal division of property. Divorce
does not invalidate the man or woman’s chances of remarriage.
The one and the other are facilitated by the circumstances which
prevail.

I was now in completely unknown country, unmapped even
by the native spies who were sent out during the last century
by the Indian Government to make secret surveys of Tibet.
Consequently I made a great point of noticing as many
geographical details as possible. Owing to my disguise, a
regular survey was out of the question, but as it was a moon¬
light night, I stayed awake long after the others had fallen
asleep in order to make some sketch-maps of the country
through which we had passed, and to enter up the events of
the last few days in my diary; sucli things had to be done in

i86

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

this way or not at ail. In the daytime I was constantly in
the sight of various Tibetans, and at night-time there was no
artificial light. Even so, great secrecy was needed, and every
time anyone moved in his sleep I had to hide away my writing-
pad under my blanket, fearing lest he wake and wonder at
my accomplishment.

Our journey this day had been so short, only sixteen miles
or so, that we were anxious to make up for lost time, and once
more started off at two-thirty the next morning. We kept
on at a steady pace until daybreak, having only the vaguest
idea from the murmur of the river to the left of us of where
we were going. Early as we were, we yet met occasional
parties on the road, donkey-caravans for the most part. The
Tibetan seems to be as casual about his time of travelling as
to his eating. If he feels in the mood, he travels all night and
sleeps all day, and there was never a single hour of the night or
day in which I could be certain of meeting no one on the road.

Our chief difficulty was with the occasional small streams
which run into the Brahmaputra. These were nearly all
frozen fast, and we had our usual trouble in getting over the
slippery surface, though we had become somewhat experts
at the game by now and managed to get our caravan over
without accident.

Not long before daylight we ceased to hear the river, but
as we seemed to be following a well-beaten track we went
straight on. Dawn showed us that we had a low line of hills
instead of the Brahmaputra on our left. This worried us, but
thinking that we were making a detour we continued our
march for another hour. At the end of this time we met a
peasant who told us that we had quite lost the way and were
going up a side-valley, so we had to retrace our steps some
distance, going back to the mouth of the valley.

We lost about seven miles in this way. “ Satan,” as usual,
lost his temper and blamed everybody but himself for the
misfortune. Finally he decided to vent his spleen on
“ Diogenes,” and began to beat him unmercifully with his
stick. The Tibetan peasant was .still about, so I dared give
no vigorous command, but it was impossible for me to stay
there and let the boy be so cruelly beaten, so I threw myself
in between the pair, and this forced Lhatcn and the .syce to

SHIGATSE ONWARD 187

come to the rescue. They dragged " Satan ” off, swearing
all sorts of vengeance.

“ Satan ” was not the only one who seemed to be upset at
the fruitlessness of the early-morning journey. The miserable
donkey which we had bought the day before had been coaxed
to come so far, but of a sudden recommenced his old tricks and
refused to budge one step more. Flogging was of no avail.
I thought he must be shamming, and twisted his tail to make
him show an interest in life, but even this proved fruitless,
and after literally dragging him along as so much deadweight
for another mile, we gave it up as a bad job and abandoned
him by the roadside, once more adding another load—that
which he had been carrying—to our own. Under these
circumstances, even “ Satan ” was forced to walk in order
that his pony might carry a portion of our burden, but he was
careful to point out that it would be inadvisable for him to
bear any load himself, as .such a course would be entirely out
of keeping with the role it was necessary for him to play.

Arrived back at the Brahmaputra, we were able to strike
out once more on the right road: our peasant informant
stayed with ns up to this point. I now discovered why we
had gone astray. For the most part mountain ranges ran
parallel to the river-bed, on cither side, some three or four
miles away from the water’s edge ; but occasionally a mountain
spur would run out at right-angle.s from the general range and
come down near the main stream. This made the country
bear a resemblance to the general basin-formation, except
that we saw only half-basins, as the river had eaten through
a gap in the mountain watershed between the basins.

Here the hill came right down to the water’s edge and
we had actually to wade through the stream in order to get
around it.

Not long after rounding the spur, we came on to another
plain, set in which was a large mona.stery. This was very
interesting to me, because it was the first monastery I had seen
which was not built on the side of a hill. It is also quite a
famous place historically, and it is said that its library contains
very old and interesting manuscripts.

The ancient mamiscripts of Tibet consist of writings in both
Sanskrit and Tibetan and very occasionally in Chinese.

i88

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

Contrary to popular supposition, there are no Pali manuscripts
in the country, as Buddhism had long rid itself of the Pali
literary tradition before Tibet came under its influence.

Nearly all of these remains, if of any value, date from the
period previously mentioned, the ninth to the fourteenth
century a.d. To the scholar they are chiefly of value because
many of them were not incorporated in either of the two great
canonical collections, the " Kangyur ” and the “ Tengyur,”
and are otherwise unknown.

The greatest interest is attached to the Sanskrit manuscripts
which were brought from India. In many cases these were
the originals from which the canonical translations were
made, and as these originals have eLsewhere disappeared,
they are eagerly sought by bibliophiles in every part of
the world.

It was quite impossible to attempt to secure any such manu¬
scripts on the present occasion, and we continued on our way
until we came to the little village of Rugu, where we halted
for our breakfast-lunch, a real college " brunch,” as far
as the purpose the meal served.

I was so tired that, instead of stopping in the courtyard,
I insisted on going up to the living-room upstairs, where I
laid down while Lhaten prepared the food, for I felt too ill
to act in my capacity of assistant cook.

Fortunately there were no other travellers about, but later
the mmo, or landlady, came up to talk to us and to tell us all
about the local scandal.

She had a good deal to say about the local abbot, who was
considered to be an " incarnation of deity,” and the troubles
which he was having.

He had, of course, been chosen as the true incarnation and
appointed abbot when he was still an infant, and during his
minority the power had been exercised by one of the senior
monks. Even when the young " divine ruler ” came of age,
the regent was very unwilling to renounce his power, and a
bitter enmity sprang up between the two as to who was to have
the real control of the affairs of the monastery.

The regent, as the older and craftier man, had proved
successful, and in wrath the incarnate abbot had resigned his
post and left the temple.

SHIGATSE ONWARD 189

I was very much interested to learn that an incarnate and
reincarnate abbot could resign his job, and asked our gossipy
informant what had become of him.

She answered that he had received an invitation from another
monastery to become its head, and had ordained that thereafter
he would be reborn as the abbot of the new temple, rather than
as the raler of the temple from which he had been ejected.

This little incident was of great interest to me, as it threw
fresh light on the way in which the Tibetans regard and regu¬
late the institution of reincarnated divine rulers.

Before leaving Rugu we tried to get another donkey, but our
bargain of the previous day had warned us to be on our guard,
and in this mood we could not find an animal which was to
our satisfaction. All really usable and saleable countryside
animals are sent to the animal market in the near-by large
towns, in this case Shigatse, and we found it a hopeless task
looking for suitable bea.sts in the villages.

We had brought with us the wooden pack-saddle of the dead
mule, hoping to find another mount on which to use it, and
when I realized the unlikelihood of getting another suitable
transport animal, I told Lhaten to sell it. We discovered that
pack-saddles were a drug on the market, but our spare equip¬
ment being of precious wood, we finally disposed of it as fire¬
wood, receiving several trangkas for it. This stretch of
Tibetan territory along the banks of the Brahmaputra, how¬
ever, is much better off for fixel than most parts of the country,
although, of course, lacking in trees. We saw along the way-
.side a quantity of thorn growing, and we found that this was
largely used for fuel in place of the more general yak-
dung, particularly as yaks are rare in this part of Tibet,
and the dung of mule.s, houses, and donkeys is much less
serviceable.

After an hour’s rest, we again took to the road. Once more
we had to round a spur of hills which ran down to the river’s
edge, and again found on the other side a broad, flat basin.
During the afternoon we were much troubled by the heat.
The Brahmaputra River valley is the warmest part of Tibet.
The nights continued to be bitterly cold, but at midday the
direct rays of the sun made it even hotter than in India. It was
impossible to touch any exposed object with the naked hand, so

igo TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

scorching did it become. Of course, it was only those spots
directly exposed to the sun where this great heat prevailed.
In sheltered and shady places the cold was almost as great as
at night-time. This great difference in the temperature at the
same time and place, according to whether one was in or out
of the direct sunshine, was one of the most extraordinary
things experienced in Tibet.

On many occasions the temperature would be 30° below
zero at night-time, and 110° to 120° above at midday.

This effect of heat felt only under the direct rays of the sun
is due to the fact that, owing to the rarefied atmosphere, the
heat is not radiated, and in the hottest part of the day our tea
would frequently freeze to a solid block of ice inside a dwelling.

It was a curious feeling to stand with one foot in the shade
and the other in the sun : one foot in danger of being frost¬
bitten and the other of being scorched.

Our way seemed to continue endlessly ; I began to feel worse
and worse, and it seemed impossible for me to go on. I thought
of stopping at a big farmhouse we came upon near a large and
curious backwater of the Brahmaputra, which extended far
into the plain ; but being told by a passing peasant that the
regular resting-stage of Trangka was only a little distance off,
we decided to push on. Keeping on for another two hours
without seeing anything of the village, we asked another
traveller where Trangka lay, and received the same answer as
had been given two hours previously. We were in both
instances led to suppose it was only a stone’s-throw away, but
it took still another hour’s tramp to bring us in sight of our goal,
and even then Trangka was still five miles away.

The Tibetans are, indeed, extraordinarily inexact in their
methods of measuring. For calculating distances, I heard
mention of only three terms. One of these was kosatsa, literally
the distance which the voice carries, but which in practice
seemed to vary from one hundred to five hundred yards. The
second was tsafo, or tsasa, or a half-march, ranging from five to
ten miles, and finally a shasa, a full march, which meant any¬
thing from ten to twenty miles.

These were the only methods of computation used or under¬
stood by the peasantry. The religious literature employs
a method of computation evolved by the ancient Indian

SHIGATSE ONWARD

191

Buddhists *; and occasionally more sophisticated officials
will calculate distances m Chinese li, itself a variable
quantity, or in English miles. They have learned of the
mileage system from the milestones which are placed along
the Gyangts6-Yatung road.

As regards time they are equally vague, though they have
a larger number of terms. Among the phrases I heard most
frequently employed in this connection were :

nyima = daytime

tsen or gongmo = night-time

chake-tangfo — first cockcrow

chake-ny%fa — second cockcrow

torang = just before dawn—“ false dawn ”

tse shar — sunrise, lit. “ peak-shining ”

shokke = early morning

tsating = late morning

nyin-gung = midday

gongta = afternoon

sa-rip = dusk

nam-che = midnight

Owing to the greater exactitude of the European system of
the measurement of time, the Tibetans who have come into
contact with life in India have learned to understand and
even employ European reckoning of the hours. Curiously
enough, this is quite irrespective of whether they have watches
or not. A certain position of the sun in the sky means to
them three p.m., and so on. I had brought with me a cheap
Ingersoll, the only timepiece I had dared to have with the
party (one or two Lhasa merchants have acquired such watches),
but on entering Tibet I had given it to " Satan ” to wear, as
a watch was much more in keeping with his r 61 e than mine.

Even when we had at length caught sight of Trangka, it
took a long time for us to reach it, owing to my weakness.
Lhaten insisted upon my taking a long drink of arak, which
he declared was good for bowel troubles. Chang, the mild
fermented form of barley, is supposed to be a laxative, while
arak, the distilled form, has exactly the opposite effect, and is

^ For details see my Manual of BuMhist Philosophy, part u

192 TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

incidentally supposed to be a sure cure for most internal
disorders. A similar view is taken in various parts of Europe
in regard to the ef&cacy of certain alcoholic beverages and
spirits. Certainly in my case it worked temporary wonders.
The taste of the arak was so vile I could hardly get it down,
and once down it seemed to burn my inside to such an extent
that I was spurred into activity, and managed to do the last
couple of miles in record time. “ Satan,” not troubling about
anyone else, had gone on ahead, and we found him installed
in one of the neatest little rest-houses I had yet seen.

Trangka is situated about a mile away from the edge of the
river at the foot of a curiously-isolated hill which rises up in
the middle of the broad, flat basin. On the top of the hill,
instead of a castle, was a shrine, at which every morning and
evening incense is burned. The groimd around the village
was so barren that even by cultivation no trees could be grown,
and the population were forced to find their principal support
in tourist traflic, with the result that the accommodation was
much better than in many of the villages through which we
had passed. Each house was only one story high, and the
common-room opened directly on to the courtyard. But
inside the room there were two elevated mud dais—to serve
as bedsteads for better-class travellers. On these were spread
thick, hard cushions stuffed with wool, which placed together
served as, and looked like, mattresses: with a carpet thrown
over them one got a very pleasing divan effect. These mattress-
cushions {shuden) are very common in the richer houses in
Tibet, but this was the first time we had met with them, as
the rest-houses at which we stayed were off the beaten track.

One of these divans we found occupied by a monk, who was
on his way from Lhasa to Shigatsd. The other, of course, was
occupied by “ Satan,” so that I got a better idea of what the
divans looked like than what they felt like.

The monk was the sole other occupant of the room. We
found him busy chanting some religious books, but his tea-
bowl was in front of him, and every five minutes he would
stop and take a sip. He came to an end of his chant by and
by, and then asked us to give him some money, for which he
would chant a long sutra for our benefit. His request was by
no means unusual. True Tibetans believe that one acquires

SHIGATSE ONWARD 193

great merit by the chanting of sacred books, and since the
average man is too ignorant and too lazy to chant himself, he
frequently hires a priest to perform this duty for him. This is
one of the principal ways in which a priest makes his living.

The monks earn their livelihood in various ways, some of
which are not at all compatible with their religious status, for
they sometimes break out in bands and waylay and rob
travellers. It happens also, occasionally, that a gang of the
more turbulent monks will attack and plunder merchants and
pillage villages. The money and produce received by the
monastery from various sources is not divisible amongst the
inmates, except in one or two instances, such, for example, as
the hip-la, or fees received for performing funeral rites, and the
alms which are given at harvest-time to the “ holy ” men.
Other revenue the individual monks receive are presents given
by the rich in place of the expensive ceremonies which follow
some time after the death of a member of the family. The
monks have no definite income or salary, either from the
monasteries or outside source. If their families are weU-to-do,
they may have allowances, and the cost of their education is
borne by the family. In other cases, where the parents are
landed proprietors, the inmate of the monastery will receive
the produce of a field set aside, and called the lama-i-sUng
(lama’s field). Such revenue is insufficient and must be
supplemented by the monks’ own earnings, a state of things
which brings about much abuse of their powers. The means
of augmenting allowances are various. If the monk be a
fully-fledged ge-long, he will be in request at marriages end
other ceremonies ; he will be called on in cases of sickness to
recite prayers, and be in attendance at births and on other
occasions to cast horoscopes. For these services he receives
payment in kind or money.

Many monks are money-lenders and carry on their usurious
dealings both in and outside the monastery, and charge high
rates of interest.

After harvest, it is the custom of the monks to tour the
districts about a monastery in small bands, chanting outside
each house. The husbandmen present the singers with grain,
and this is divided up in the monastery according to the degree
or grade of the inmates.

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

194

Another means of obtaining additional goods is practised
by lamas who waylay travellers in the village rest-houses and
streets, demanding alms in return for their benediction, and
some members of the fraternity hire themselves out to work
in the fields for payment.

The monasteries own considerable property, their wealth
being derived mainly from lands in the vicinity of the establish¬
ment. These lands are farmed by hereditary tenants, who
pay no rent but deliver one-third of all produce to the land¬
lord—^in this case the monastic establishment. The delivery
of this tribute is effected in various ways—sometimes direct by
the husbandly, though more often through appointed collectors,
who, while engaged in gathering the produce, drive a thriving
business, the profits of which they share with the overlords.
These men travel round the villages and farms receiving the
dues in wool, butter, and other goods, and sometimes coin.
The collector then takes the opportunity to sell brick-tea from
China and suchlike articles, the poor tenants being compelled
to purchase something. It happens also that where the
ecclesiastics are the sole proprietors of the lands round about
their establishments, taking in the territory of practically a
whole Government area, the Dzong-pon, or lay Governor of
the provincial dzong, or castle, is appointed as tax-
gatherer. As he too, in such cases, becomes a merchant,
it can be readily understood that the tenantry suffer
considerably, for the castellan has means at his disposal to
enforce trade.

The revenues obtained by the monasteries are to be applied
in three chief ways: for the reparation of the fabric of the
building and the acquirement of articles utilized in the temple;
for the provision of certain provender, including beer, for the
monks at festivals ; and to procure supplies of butter for the
lamps kept burning before the holy images. But before
account is rendered the higher officials secure choice pickings
for themselves.

While the monks are exempt from all forms of taxation
and impositions, the helpless husbandry have not finished
with the overlords by the mere rendering of the tribute.
On them is the onus of providing transport animals—
cattle and ponies—^to carry the borax, wool, and other

SHIGATSE ONWARD 195

goods in which the monastic authorities traffic, post animals,
and so on.

Monks are apt to get into a bad temper when such a request
as that advanced by the individual who shared the common-
room with us is refused, so we gave him a couple of trangkas
to calm him, and thereupon he bellowed another twenty
minutes for our special benefit.

He was not the only one to pester us. The whole village
seemed to teem with mendicant minstrels. They swarmed
out into the courtyard and went through an amateur version of
a devil-dance, wearing, however, only simple black masks. For
orchestra they had only a huge drum and some brass cymbals,
but with these made a terrific noise. Even this, however,
was drowned by the singing of the women performers. A
real devil-dance, of course, has only male actors, but in
these village shows the majority of the players are women.
Their performance seemed to last indefinitely, and we
were forced to give them some coppers to break off and
leave us in peace.

Later in the evening the monk left us : he was journeying
by night, and we had the whole common-room to ourselves.
Lhaten suggested that I occupy the vacant dais, but I told him
to do so, as I did not know when some other person might
arrive.

I had been very glad that we were at last alone, but I was
soon brought to understand that ” Satan ” was even more
glad, as it gave him an opportunity of making an attempt at
blackmail.

He saw how keen I was on getting to Lhasa, and thought I
would pay any price to avoid failure. Consequently he de¬
manded a thousand rupees, under threat of informing the local
authorities who I was. My first instinct was to knock him
down, but I realized in time that this would do no good, and so
I was forced to make a compromise. I promised him two
hundred rupees in the event of our getting to Lhasa, a sum less
than I should have given him in any case had he worked satis¬
factorily. At the same time I demanded from him a letter
repeating his outrageous offer. Naively enough he gave me
this, whereupon I informed him that he was now in my power,
and that if we were turned away or sent back from Lhasa as the

196 TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

result of any action of Ms, I could have him thrown into prison
in India on the charge of blackmail.

After matters had thus been satisfactorily settled, we
composed ourselves for sleep.

Next morning we started off at our usual time, two hours
before sunrise. We had first to skirt the curious Trangka Hill
and then strike out across the plain. This proved more uneven
and rolling than usual and also very sandy, so sandy that the
usual tracks which served as a guide to our road had been
obliterated, and we were in fear that we would once more lose
the way. I insisted, therefore, on our keeping near the river-
bank, as I felt that in tMs way we should not go so very far
astray. This hindered progress a good deal, as the river winds
in and out over the wide valley-bed. Could we have only seen
our direction we might have made many short-cuts, but in the
darkness vision was limited and a comprehensive view of the
vaUey-formation was impossible.

The sunrise was particularly beautiful—a sandy soil, over
which the air contains many particles of sand, always makes
for beautiful sunrises and sunsets.

Once it was light we could go forward with greater freedom.
In the morning my illness did not seem to affect me so badly,
so we were able to leave mile after mile behind us.

About eleven o’clock we came to the village of Namu, in the
centre of which was an important-looking monastery. Several
of the monks were walking about the streets, and some of them
stopped to look at us as we passed through. I heard later
that tMs monastery has the reputation of being particularly
reactionary. A small group of monks came up to us, and one
of their number began asking searching questions, for our
Sikkimese costumes, which differ on certain points of detail
from those worn in the central parts of Tibet, had probably
awakened his suspicions.

After '' Satan’s ” attempt at blackmail the preceding
evening, I was very much afraid that he might give me away,
in view of the threatening attitude which the monks assumed ;
but, to do him justice, he was now firmly fixed in mind to get
me to Lhasa. He was, moreover, a most consummate actor,
and answered, or rather evaded, all questions most skilfully,
so that we were allowed to pass on. It would seem, however,

TIBF.IAN LAMA DANCLBS IN MASKS

SHIGATSE ONWARD 197

that our inquisitive friend was not completely satisfied, for
“ Diogenes,” who was lagging a little behind, was also stopped
and asked not only about himself, but about us. His simple
mind had got the necessity of secrecy firmly fixed in it, and
his naive answers helped even better than all of “ Satan’s ”
volubility.

Our inquisitor was obviously a person of some standing in
the temple, and was probably the cho-trimpa, or proctor,
who sees that the monks conform their actions to the
canon law.

Every large monastery has a great number of office-holders.
These officers, their titles, duties, and privileges, differ consider¬
ably among the various orders, and many monasteries, even
inside one order, depart a good deal from general custom.
But among the Gelugpa, reformed or “ yellow-hat,” monas¬
teries, which now constitute the established Church of Tibet,
the usual monastic offices are more or less as follows :

At the head of the monastery is, of course, the abbot. He
is either a reincarnation of divinity {tm-ku), and therefore
selected as an infant, or is the specially-appointed head
ikenpo) whose selection generally lies in the hands of the
authorities in Shigats^ or Lhasa.

The organization of the temporal side of the monastery is
in the hands of a treasurer, or chaTidzo, and a high steward, or
chinyer. The welfare of the monks is looked after by a
lob-pbn, or professor, who regulates the studies and may himself
teach the senior students, and the above-mentioned cho-trimpa,
who maintains order and sees that the monastic regulations
are obeyed. There are frequently two such officials aided by
several subordinate orderlies.

The main temple building and the great ceremonies conducted
therein form the jurisdiction of the umdze, the chief celebrant
or dean, the ku-nyer, or sacristan, and the tea-dispensers, or
cha-ma, etc.

These offices are usually held for a limited period, and the
holders are elected by and from the community of monks.

In addition there are a number of monks who are given
special duties, such as the medical monks, the exorcists, the
monastic painters, accountants and tax-collectors, chamberlains
and cooks, etc.

198 TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

I had inteaded to halt in this viUage for our midday meal
and rest, but we were sufficiently frightened by the presence
of the monks to make us go on foi another hour before stopping.
Here we found an outlying farmhouse, where we took our
customary rest without interruption.

CHAPTER XVI

ALONG THE BRAHMAPUTRA

In the afternoon our road lay, for the most part, right along
the river. The range of mountains which had run parallel
to the Brahmaputra about four miles from the river-bed,
having a broad plain in between, now began to close down on
either side ; on several occasions we could look straight down
into the clear depths of the principal stream, where could be
seen an incredible number of fish, some of them of gigantic
size, while on its banks were countless ducks and cranes.
Their number is due to the Tibetan scruple against fishing
and shooting. This scruple is based on religious dislike of
destroying life. Inconsistently, there is no prohibition of the
killing of domestic animals, and the Tibetans are probably
the greatest meat-eaters in the world.

Once or twice we caught sight of a boat making its way down
the river from Shigatse.

The Tibetans are very primitive in the construction and
navigation of their boats. Their craft are made of leather,
square in shape, and are as clumsy as the ancient British
coracle. On the lakes these boats are unknown. In Tibet,
several temples and villages are to be found on islands set in
the lakes, and, owing to the lack of boats, communication can
only be had with the shore for a short time during the winter,
when the water freezes and the people are able to walk to and
fro on the ice.

Late in the afternoon we came across another long stretch of
sand. The wind at this time was blowing so strongly that we
had great difficulty in walking, but I noticed that the sand
was singularly little disturbed. This impressed upon me the

199

200

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

fact, of which I had been but half-conscious before, that for
the most part the wind sweeps along two or three feet above
the ground, so that a gale may be blowing, and yet, if one be
lying down, it is scarcely noticeable.

The sand also led me to another very curious observation.
At one place quite a respectably-sized stream ran down from
a side-vaUey as if to join the Brahmaputra, but about three-
quarters of a mile away from the main stream it gradually
lost strength, and about half a mile from its would-be con¬
fluence it disappeared altogether as if swallowed up by
the sand! It was probably absorbed into the ground,
and ran as an tmderground current into the great river ;
but certainly the sight of the disappearing waters was most
disconcerting.

Ploughing through the sand was very weary work. We
had now gone for several miles without seeing any sign of
habitation, and I was so exhausted that I seriously thought
of camping out here in the open; but the others insisted on
pushing forward, and finally we came to the bare, bleak village
of Langtru.

Just at this point the Brahmaputra, which hitherto had
been spht up into a number of small streams winding over a
large bed, converged into a single narrow stream which ran
with exceptional force and rapidity. With their backward
navigation the Tibetans are not capable of dealing with such
conditions, so that the river-traffic which goes on along the
Brahmaputra for many hundreds of miles stops here. Sixty
miles farther down-stream, so I was told, it is resumed again;
but, owing to the current, boat communication between
Shigats6 and Lhasa is impossible. The village of Langtru is
the last stop of the boats on the upper section of the river,
and we could see here a number of boats laid up by the side
of the river. These leather boats become waterlogged if they
are allowed to stay too long in the water, so the boatmen are
always careful to haul them up on to the bank as soon as
they come to a resting-stage. Being made of very thin
leather, they are surprisingly light, and I noticed one or two
men who balanced their clumsy craft on their heads and
carried them up to the courtyard of the rest-house in which
they were sta5nng.

ALONG THE BRAHMAPUTRA 201

Considering Langtru’s importance as the base for navigation,
I was surprised at its desolate appearance. The soil around
here was too sandy for brick-making, so that the houses
were constructed entirely of stone—^boulders, rough and
unhewn, and stuck together indiscriminately with rude
mud mortar.

Before long we were installed in a rest-house of the usual
kind, save that the walls were very damp, which made it more
freezingly cold than ever as night came on. Provisions, it
seems, were very difficult to get here. Chang, the barley beer,
could not be supplied (this was the only village in Tibet where
I ever found a scarcity of chang), and we could only with diffi¬
culty get fuel enough to boil our tea, so that as soon as we had
eaten we crept away to the comparative warmth of our blankets.

The Tibetans seem to regard fire as useful only for cooking—
strangely enough, considering that so much food is eaten raw !
For purposes of warmth it is very sparingly used. Fuel is too
scarce, and the Tibetan fuel, particularly, bums too fast to
permit of its use for general heating. Consequently the
Tibetan, when he feels the cold, takes refuge in more
clothes, and at night or in winter-time carries on his back
a whole wardrobe.

The next morning we were later than usual in starting, and
it was nearly dawn before we got away. I was very much
worried by the slowness of our progress, but could not see what
could be done to improve matters until we got extra transport
animals, and unless we had with us some guide who knew the
road. We seemed to lose a lot of time straying about on our
early-morning journeys in the dark.

The whole of this morning’s march lay along the cliffs which
enclosed the Brahmaputra on either side. In some cases we
had less than six inches of roadway, carved from the rocky walls,
and when we came to a particularly difficult bit, we had to
unload our animals and carry their bundles across ourselves lest
the poor beasts be pushed off the track and fall into the seething
torrent hundreds of feet below. Everywhere was bleak, bare
rock; in many cases the rock had been carved with sacred
inscriptions, and with bas-relief sculptures of various Buddhas
and Bodhisattvas; some of these were crude, but many were
beautifully done.

202

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

It is a very unusual thing to see bare rock in Tibet. The
alternation of extreme heat and cold during the seasons and
day and night has broken up the surface of the rocky portions
of the country so as to expose to sight only fine earth or sand.
Even the mountains have generally a well-roimded look, but
here the canyon or gorge in which we found ourselves must be
of recent geological formation, for the great boulders showed
no sign of weathering.

The valley of the great river of Tibet, the Brahmaputra, or
Tsangpo, the name it is known by in that country, presents
many interesting aspects to the explorer. The river flows for
nearly 1,300 miles from west to east, through the centre of
Southern Tibet, for the most part in a broad valley. Into this
valley drain the smaller rivers, pouring their waters into the
main river, which at flood season becomes a broad single stream,
turbulent in places, but at ordinary times is made up of a
number of narrow waterways running along distinct channels
worn out in the main bed.

The depression, or valley, of the Brahmaputra, for several
miles beyond Takra, has geological surprises for the observer.
From the confluence of the River Rong down to a point where
the main waterway branches off to Lhasa, the formation of the
valley is new and unexpected. It is a geological paradox
which I can hardly attempt to explain fuUy here. In general,
the valley of the Brahmaputra is an old formation with down¬
like hiUs sloping gently to the wide river-bed, the rocks covered
with soil and a quantity of vegetation and herbage. But for
some strange reason, where the Rong joins the main stream
there commences a totally new-type formation, the hiUs are
rugged, with steep valleys and bare, unweathered rocks.
This contiipies for about fifty miles, when again the old
type of valley reappears. One can only surmise that at
some comparatively recent date the river carved itself
out a new, narrower course, in the middle of the older,
broader bed. Navigation is impossible along this reach
for the crude hide boats of the Tibetans, and so there are
villages at each end which engage chiefly in the transporta¬
tion of goods.

In addition to being narrow, the track was also very uneven,
and we had to clamber up and down the face of the cliff. Later

ALONG THE BRAHMAPUTRA

203

in the afternoon the road straightened and broadened out again,
and we were able to increase our pace.

Owing to my illness, I had got into the habit of falling behind
the others, and this practice very nearly led me into serious
difficulties. A peasant came walking from the opposite direc¬
tion and passed me without comment, but on looking back I
saw that he had met with three horsemen one of whom was
obviously an official, who stopped the man and began to ask
questions.

This is no unusual thing in Tibet. The Tibetan official loves
to vaunt his authority, and when riding along the road, if in no
hurry, frequently stops pedestrians and demands where they
are going and why. In many cases the poor peasants, fearing
persecution, give the official a monetary present.

I was not much worried as to the poor peasant’s fate, but it
occurred to me that the horsemen who were following us would
shortly overtake me and put me through a similar catechism.
My party was now nearly half a mile ahead, and so I determined
to catch up with them, so as to let any questioning be answered
by “ Satan.”

I had been feeling utterly fatigued and hardly able to crawl,
but with this fear in my heart, it was remarkable how soon I
recovered and managed, in spite of my thirty-five-pound load,
to " hit up ” a pace that would have done credit to a Marathon
athlete. My bundle bobbed around on my back and one or
two things fell out, our supply of salt among them, but this
I did not mind, and I managed to flop along so fast that I
caught up with my party shortly before the riders overtook
me. They must have been surprised at the display of speed
which I had given them, and did indeed pull up to ask a
question, but I was obviously so out of breath that I could
not speak, and “ Satan ” answered for me. After a short
inquiry, the official party rode on and we were left in peace
again.

An hour later we arrived at a thriving little village
called Kulunga, where we halted for our midday meal
and rest.

In great contrast to Langtru, I found this little village
extremely lively, prosperous, and progressive. The mmo of
our rest-house was very much interested to learn that we were

204 TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

Sikkimese, and wanted to know whether, living so near to
India, we had adopted any Indian customs. I was anxious
to find out what the good lady considered typically Indian,
and was surprised to find her well informed for she had never
been outside her native village and had, of course, never seen
an Indian in her life. She informed us that Indians were
distinguished by the fact that they ate no beef (or rather,
as she put it, they ate no yak) ; that they insisted on
eating in privacy, turning their backs on the rest of the
world at meal-times; and, finally, that they observed
caste rules.

“ Satan ” assured our friend that, though the Sikkimese
were unfortunate enough to five near the barbarians, we had
not allowed our good Tibetan blood to be corrupted by heathen
practices.

In point of fact, the Tibetans are not nearly so democratic
as their scorn of the Indian caste system might lead one to
suppose.

Technically speaking, there is, of course, no “ caste ” in
Tibet, but there is a sharp distinction preserved between
patrician and plebeian families. Tibet has some thirty or
forty " great ” families, which in other countries would form
the nobility. Below these there are some hundred and fifty
or two hundred families which constitute a squirearchy, or
upper middle-class. Below these there is the broad mass of
the population, consisting of peasant farmers and petty
merchants. Lowest of all in the social scale come the outcasts,
who are taboo because of their occupation. Among such
“ impossible ” trades are those of the butcher, the tanner,
and even the maker of bows and arrows.

Entrance into the official world is in nearly aU cases reserved
to members of “ the upper classes,” and there is very great
prejudice against intermarriage of the classes. The priesthood
is open to all, except, in some parts, to members of outcast
families, and a bright young priest has a fair chance of advance¬
ment, though there is a strong tendency for priests drawn
from the aristocratic families to occupy the higher ecclesias¬
tical positions.

Generally speaking, the cleavage of the classes is even greater
m Tibet than anywhere in Europe, and this in spite of Tibet’s

ALONG THE BRAHMAPUTRA

contact with China, in some ways the most democra-li^ii of
countries.

While I was resting after our lunch, Lhaten went “ scromi^
ing ” around the village in order to purchase more salt and
more barley. In this way he met a small party of men belong¬
ing to this village who were going to the town of Yase, several
miles away, on the road to Lhasa, in order to buy supplies for
their village. They were going up light and coming back
heavy, so that Lhaten arranged with them for us to join their
party and to be allowed to ride two of their ponies. In this
way we not only got fresh and very useful guides, which would
enable us to continue our early-morning journeys without
fear of losing the way, but also for the next two or three days
Lhaten and I would be able to ride as well as “ Satan.” Lhaten
quickly came back to tell me of the new arrangement. I was
overjoyed, for, owing to the weakening effects of the dysentery,
I was beginning to fear that I should be physically unable to
reach the Forbidden City, even if no other obstacles lay in our
way. I insisted, however, on Lhaten and “ Satan ” riding
the two fresh ponies, while I mounted our own worn-out nag,
as I thought he would not be able to keep up with the others,
and thus give me a good excuse for not being always in the
close company of our new companions.

In much more joyful spirits, therefore, we started on a new
phase of the journey. It had been such a long time since I
had been in the saddle that I began, before long, to feel stiff
and sore, but even this was far preferable to the agony of
having to walk with a heavy load in my then critical physical
condition.

Shortly after leaving the village, we left the banks of the
Brahmaputra and began to ascend a broad side-valley in the
centre of which ran a tributary, the famous Rong River.
Beyond this point it was impossible to follow along the banks
of the main stream. The flanking mountains continued to
narrow down on either side, and the Brahmaputra for the
next sixty miles became a series of rapids running through a
narrow gorge with precipitous cliffs, sometimes more than
1,000 feet high.

Consequently, though Lhasa lies on the north side of the
Brahmaputra, we had now to make a long detour to the

2 o6

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

south-east, following the Rong River up to its source, the
Yamdro Lake. We could then strike to the north again and,
crossing over a mountain range, return to the Brahmaputra
near where the Kp River, on which Lhasa stands, runs into
it from the north. By following up this second tributary we
would arrive at last at the Sacred City.

On the way up the Rong Valley that afternoon we passed
in front of a small and miserable-looking monastery. Alongside
the roadway were a number of prayer-walls. In these were
placed a large number of prayer-wheels. Following the
example of my companions, I dismounted from my pony as
we passed by the walls and turned each wheel, but I noticed
one or two other passers-by were not as punctihously religious
as ourselves, though they were scrupulously careful to keep
on the right side.

These particular prayer-walls were of interest to me, because
they contained inscriptions—^invocations which were not in
Sanskrit, as is usual (even “ Om Mani Padme hung ” is San¬
skrit), but in Tibetan, and were, moreover, written phonetically
and not according to the classical spelling.

Unlike Chinese, to which Tibetan is very distantly related,
the language of Tibet has a regular alphabet consisting of thirty
letters and four vowel signs. Spelling was standardized in the
eighth century, and it is probable that at that time words were
pronounced as they are spelled. Phonetic decay, however, has
rendered a great many letters silent, and in very many cases
the majority of the letters composing a word are not pronounced.
Most frequently it is the first and last letters which are vic¬
timized. Thus, for example, dbugs is pronounced “ u,” mkas-po
is “ kepo,” dngul is “ ngU,” etc. More confusing still are the
rules whereby byin-po is promounced " chim-pa,” krag is “ tra,’’
and bris-pa is “ tri-pa.” To the uninitiated, therefore, the
spelling of a word is no indication of how it is pronounced, and
even educated Tibetans make many mistakes in orthography.
The grossly uneducated will speE things phoneticaEy, that is,
when they can write at aE, which is rare.

Very late in the afternoon we came in sight of our halting-
place for the night, the vElage of Ringpo, over which towered
a dzong, or castle, of the usual Tibetan type, though placed in a
very unusual position.

ALONG THE BRAHMAPUTRA 207

The formation of the land and the position of the castle,
monastery, and village of Ringpo, were so extraordinary that
I memorized the general outhnes with a view to making a
rough sketch at the first opportunity. This I did. It is
very rough, but may give some idea of the peculiarities which
surprised me.

The Rong (river) runs m a steep, narrow gorge, which seems
to have been worn away by the waters out of the bed of the
older glacial valley, the natural level of the land. At this
place the river gorge has divided into two streams, leaving an
island in the middle. The summit of this island is level with
the surrounding glacier valley. On this isolated crag the castle
is perched, while at the foot of the gorge under the castle nestles
the main village of Ringpo. The monastery is built half-way

lso!a.t*€i House®

ISaUfcefil HouSttS
S/ACtar ya.il«ty

*Prmc»p0il
of RjNt&PO

up in the steep outer flank of the slope above the village. On
the glacier plain on either side of these gorges one finds isolated
houses.

This queer formation of a gorge cutting through an
earlier broad glacier valley appears elsewhere, certain
reaches of the Brahmaputra suggesting a similar effect,
but nowhere did I see it so accentuated as at this particular
spot.

As a rule, in Tibet one finds the dzong, or castle, commanding
the plain from the top of some abrupt hill or towering crag.
From this eminence the watchers survey ^e surrounding
country. In other days these castles were practicably
impregnable, but where bows and arrows were up against an
insuperable barrier, the modem gun finds but a temporary
obstacle.

The monasteries, which are more numerous than the castles,
have also their regular position, though the builders are not so

208

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

adamant in this respect as the dzong constructors. One finds
the monasteries everywhere ; in every fertile valley a number
exist. Where river joins river or lake, there, be sure, a monas¬
tery stands on a commanding site ; at the head of each valley,
at lakeside porterages, and important places on the main trade-
routes the monks have built themselves in. Sometimes the
buildings are massive structures, enclosed by a wall inside
which, besides the main erections, are many smaller structures,
and often they are castellated and fitted to stand a siege. The
lesser gompas^ however, are more often just square houses,
limewashed, and striped and bordered with colours obtained
from the hillside clays.

I always had a great fear of staying too near a dzong with its
resident corps of inquisitive officials, one of whose principal
duties is to keep an eye on all travellers and newcomers to the
district, and had we been alone, I should have insisted on
staying at the little village about a mile this side of the dzong.
But our travelling companions, who obviously possessed
clearer consciences than we, insisted upon staying at a rest-
house right under the dzong, and I dared not raise any
objection.

Once more we found the rest-house common-room over¬
crowded, so that all of us had to sleep in a corner of the rest-house
itself. Our companions—three young men they were—^who had
had not yet got beyond the curiosity of youth, showed a disposi¬
tion to be talkative and tried to engage even me in conversa¬
tion. But I knew the limits of my conversational abilities in
Tibetan, and after answering a few questions, I put an end to
further inquiries by rolling myself up in my blanket and going
to sleep.

For the last several nights my sleep had been interrupted by
dreams of food. More particularly did I crave for some form
of sweet. Often when I went to sleep would I dream of some
pudding or pastry, or even plain sugar. I dreamed it lay
just beyond my reach, and in my sleep would physically
strain to reach it, an action which generally caused me to
wake up.

In general, I am not particularly fond of sweets, and
never would have supposed that I would miss them, but the
absolute absence of any form of sugar or sugar substitute

ALONG THE BRAHMAPUTRA

209

showed me how integral a part of our diet such foods have
become.

Tibet is probably one of the few places in the world where
sweets are unknown. India, even Bhutan and Sikkim, China
and Japan, have aU sweetmeats of some description, and even
where sugar as such is unknown, the sweet potato, or some fruit
such as the mango, offers an excellent substitute. But a
Tibetan knows nothing of such things, and when he first tastes
them dislikes them. This is all the more strange because sugar
is heating and would aid in counteracting the cold, but for thi=;
purpose the Tibetan prefers to use butter and fat.

The lack of sweets, however, probably helps the people to
preserve their teeth. Contrary to usual supposition, I found a
large number of peasants with white, well-preserved teeth, and
yet the Tibetan is never known to brush his teeth in any way or
at any time.

In spite of my experience of Tibetan early rising, I was
certainly astonished when prodded awake at one-thirty in the
morning and told to begin the march, but our companions were
in a hurry to get on and intended to make a long march
that day. Usually at that time of the morning there is
very httle wind, but on this occasion a regular gale was
blowing, and I noticed then and later that in the rongs,
or valleys, of Tibet the wind is much stronger because more
concentrated.

It was pitch-dark, and I could see no trace of the road, but
our guides continued steadily on without once hesitating.
It is extraordinary how well Tibetans can see in the dark,
though a peculiar disease of the eyes, through which one is
totally blind at dusk, is not unknown.

Our road was curiously uneven. Sometimes it ran along
the older upper valley, and sometimes along the lower newer
valley, and a good deal of time was lost in continually ascending
and descending the forty or fifty feet of cliff which separated
the two.

We passed through the important town of Rachampa in the
dark, and continued steadily on our way until at dawn we reached
a point where the Rong River divides in two. Following a
tributary to the right was a road which led to Gyangts 4 , only
two days’ naarch away. Three months previously I had been

210

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

living in comparative comfort in that city, and I could not
but reflect upon the great contrast that occasion presented to
my present situation. If it had not been for my parole, I
should have been able to start my secret journey from
Gyangtse and would have avoided all our terrible sufferings
in the passes. I must confess that I felt a strong temptation
to abandon the Lhasa journey and to follow the road to
Gyangts^, where I should be able to secure medical assistance
and once more be in a position to command proper food and
clothing; but I remembered that we were now less than a
week from Lhasa, and this determined me to muster all of my
energies for the final stages of the adventure, upon the success
of which so much depended, and so I followed the others along
the road to the left.

The wind continued to beat against us, and at times we had
great difficulty in making progress. I was surprised to find
in this narrow, gale-swept valley a number of thriving villages.
The Rong Valley is, in fact, very famous historically. Its
very bleakness seems to produce a sturdy set of men, and many
of the soldiers in the new Tibetan Army are recruited from
this district.

Shortly before noon we halted at the small village of Trumsa,
where we had our usual rest and lunch-breakfast—our first
meal, although we had been travelhng about ten hours.
In the courtyard of the rest-house I noticed a number of
chickens and my mouth watered at the sight of them,
as my stomach revolted at the eternal putrid yak and
sheep flesh.

Chicken is supposed to be an unspeakably filthy food in
Tibet, and custom forbids its use. Eggs, for some reason, are
also placed on the taboo list, and many strict lamas who
consume huge quantities of mutton refuse to eat eggs on the
ground that the practice deprives future chickens of life.

In conformity with Tibetan prejudice, I had hitherto kept
myself both from chickens and eggs, but while in this village
it occurred to me that, as there were chickens here, they were
scarcely kept for ornament, but that in spite of aH prejudice
and pretence they were occasionally eaten when no one was
around, for as the Indian proverb has it, “ Where there is no
eye there is no caste.”

ALONG THE BRAHMAPUTRA 211

In my desperate desire for a change in food, I decided that
if the local Tibetans were so wicked as to eat chickens there
was no reason why we should not also do so, and through
Lhaten I arranged for the purchase of two fowls. I found
that we could get them for a trangka (3«?.) apiece, hut that the
nefo (landlord) insisted that we catch them ourselves, as he
would have nothing to do with such indiscretions.

Lhaten, the syce, and “ Diogenes,” now began a merry
chase, but the fowls had never had their wings clipped and
showed a remarkable ability to fly when they found themselves
near capture. The chase continued fully half an hour, to our
enormous amusement; I noticed that the reluctant nepo
laughed the loudest of all, but in the end our game was
“ bagged ” and we moved ofi once more. For a comparison of
prices it may be added that the fodder for our animals at this
stage cost two trangkas, and the handful of yak-dung for
boiling our tea cost one trangka.

In the afternoon, as I expected, the gale grew worse, and
as the wind was sweeping down from some glaciers in the upper
valley, it was bitterly cold, the coldest day, in fact, that I had
experienced in Tibet. This brought it very clearly into my
mind that the Brahmaputra Valley is the warmest part of
Tibet, and the farther we got away from it the colder the
atmosphere became.

In these circumstances it is easy to understand the surprise
which I felt when, about four o’clock in the afternoon, on
passing a village situated in the lower valley, near the water’s
edge, I saw a number of persons lying stark naked near the
roadside. I thought they must be raving lunatics, or else
corpses, to be thus exposed to the cold. But as we came nearer
I discovered that they were ordinary Tibetan peasants lying
in shallow pools of steaming water. The village in question,
I learned, is famous for its natural hot springs. Great curative
powers are ascribed to the waters, and the Tibetans sometimes
overcome their disinclination to wash and will then soak them¬
selves in the steaming water for hours.

The crudity of the arrangements is curious. Instead of
having a room or even a courtyard built around the springs,
they are left here completely exposed, and it seems incredible
that the people are not taken by pneumonia on getting out of

212

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

the hot water and exposing themselves unguarded to the
icy-cold winds. This crudity is aU the more curious because
on one point the peasants have shown a certain amount of
art. They have scooped out the various shallow pools into
which the hot water from the spring runs, and by diverting
a small stream of cold water they form pools of varying tempera¬
ture, from some just tepid to others in which the water nearly
boils. The waters are generally impregnated with various
salts, in particular chlorides and sulphates, or potash and
magnesium; some contain iron, others are simply plain water
without any noticeable impregnation.

But, in addition to the great importance attached to the
healing properties of the hot springs, the Tibetan has an
ulterior motive for bathing in the sulphurous waters. He is
a verminous creature, and his Buddhistic beliefs preclude the
hunting and slaughter of the insects which infest his body and
clothing. The springs, then, provide him with a simple means
of ridding himself of vermin without trespassing too far on his
religious scruples.

We had not remained immune. The native rest-houses are
overrun with these pests, and I had already fotmd that a
number had attached themselves to me. At &st the sense of
their presence was extraordinarily uncomfortable, but by this
time I had become so accustomed to them as to forget their
existence. Nevertheless, I should have been glad to get rid of
the present host by means of a bath in the hot sulphur water,
but I dared not attempt to do so, lest some of my disguise be
washed away at the same time.

Such springs are very common in Tibet. Rarer in the central
province, they occur chiefly in the regions at the higher altitudes
in Tibet, in the salt lakes area, and more concentrated in the
Yeru Tsangpo district. These springs are sometimes geysers
gushing up high in the air. Others bubble up into natural
pools and basins in the rocks and in hard ground. On the
higher plateau, of about 16,000 feet above sea-level, the cold
descends to a mark 30° below zero, sometimes to 40°, and the
ground is frozen for eight months of the year. Here the waters
of the gushing fountains sometimes freeze in the air and
icicles like high stalagmites are formed. The temperatures
of the springs vary, and it is sometimes easily possible

ALONG THE BRAHMAPUTRA

213

to cook food in the water. A reading has been taken
showing 183° at a place where the extreme elevation of
the boiling-point of water stands at 18375° Fahrenheit.
The range, however, is very wide, but I often saw Tibetans
l5dng naked in the warm pools in places where, even when
wrapped up in several garments one over the other, the cold
winds cut through one with incredible sharpness and the
penalty of carelessness was frostbite.

One thing surprised me. Considering the large number of
hot springs, it was interesting to note that Tibet is lacking in
volcanic mountains, and in fact contains no volcano past or
present of any importance.

After leaving the hot-spring village, we found the valley had
a quite different formation. In place of the broad upper and
narrow lower valleys, the hills closed down on either side, and
of the valley there was left only a narrow gorge, eaten out by
the river, with high perpendicular walls, rising two or three
hundred feet above oxu: heads. We had, therefore, to keep to
a narrow ledge within this gorge only a foot or two from the
edge of the river, the waters of which were here covered with a
thick layer of ice, over which, at some places where the stream
widened out, we had to cross.

It was long and very wearying work, and it was not until
after sunset that we came to a place where the gorge opened
out a little and here found the village of Rampa, where we
were to rest for the night. We had been eighteen hours on
the road.

The syce, in accordance with his orders, had plucked and
cleaned the chickens while on the march, so that, once arrived
in our rest-house, we were able to stick them in a pot and boil
them without attracting too much attention. What a blessed
relief it was to have good cooked food again after ages of dieting
on raw putrid flesh ! And yet how strange it was to feel that
we had to eat it secretly !

That evening I had a further proof of Lhaten's loyalty. His
own dress was shghtly warmer than mine, and having observed
how bitterly I was feeling the cold, he insisted on changing
clothes with me, as he declared that he had less need for warm
clothes than I. I had started with three Tibetan dresses,
and in accordance with Tibetan custom I was now wearing

214 TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

all three at the same time, one over the other, only I
reversed the usual practice and wore my worst dress—^this
was now Lhaten's dress—on the outside, for the more poor,
miserable, and oppressed I looked the less danger there was
of detection.

CHAPTER XVII

GOSSIP AND CUSTOMS

Staying in the same rest-house we found a Lhasa lady who
was on her way to Shigats6 to visit some relations. Among
the poorer travellers women share and sleep in the same general
common-room as the men, but being of a better family this lady
was given a special, though smaller, room adjoining for her
private use. But she obviously preferred company to solitude,
for she came into our room after dinner and stayed for about
an hour, joining in the common chatter.

The good lady proved a great gossip, and told us a great deal
about the various notabilities of Lhasa. Needless to say, most
of her information was rather of a scandalous nature, and
probably only about one-fourth of it was true, but at the same
time the conversation proved very useful to me, and it told me
which of the Lhasa officials were easygoing and modern in their
ideas, and which were old-fashioned and rigorous. I was
interested to note that, though she had taU tales to tell about
many of the abbots of the Lhasa monasteries, some of whom
were also tmku, or incarnations, even her ribald tongue had
nothing to utter against the private life of the Dalai Lama.

The good dame’s accent was nearly as interesting as her
conversation. It belonged to the pure Lhasa breed, and was
in great contrast to the speech of everyone whom we had so far
met, for we were sthl, and ever since entering Tibet had been,
in the province of Tsang (the capital of which is Shigats^),
which possesses a dialect of its own.

Dialects are very common in Tibet, nearly every village
having verbal variations peculiar to itself. This was, of course,
one of the chief reasons that I got through undetected, for I
could always put accentual errors down to some outlying

sns

2X6 TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

dialect. These variations of Tibetan speech can be grouped
under three or four main headings.

In the first place, the two main types of the Tibetan popula¬
tion, the nomads and the town-dwellers, have each tended to
develop linguistically along lines of their own, though for the
most part the two types are able to understand one another.
Among the settled communities of Central Tibet, the Tsang
dialect, as spoken in Shigats6, and the U dialect, as spoken in
Lhasa, hold the field. There are probably as many peoplg who
speak the one as the other, though at present the greater politi¬
cal preponderance of Lhasa tends to make the U dialect the
official language of the upper classes all over the country.

Outside of the central provinces, the principal Tibetan
dialects, some of them very far removed one from the other,
are Ladaki, spoken in the far west of Tibet, and Khampa,
spoken in the great Kham province, which lies between Tibet
proper and China. Finally, the Bhutanese, the Sikkimese,
and the Sharpa, or the Tibetan inhabitants of Nepal, have
each a specially-developed Tibetan dialect of their own. The
Mongolians and the Chinese who have taken the trouble to
learn Tibetan—and many Mongolians particularly speak
Tibetan very well—seem in nearly all cases to have acquired
a Kham accent.

Even more far-reaching than the difference between the
dialects, as regards geographical positions, is the distinction
between the ordinary and honorific languages.

Most Oriental languages have been influenced by this
principle. In speaking to an equal or a superior, one used
certain elegant and high-flown phrases, while in speaking to
a social inferior one speaks more curtly and simply. In
Tibetan this distinction has been carried to absurd lengths.
There is not only an ordinary and an honorific language, but
also a high honorific language used in addressing high digni¬
taries such as the Trashi Lama of Shigats^, or the Dalai Lama
of Lhasa.

The difference between the three styles of address apply to
nearly every word in the language. Thus, the ordinary word
for “ to say ” or " teU ” is laf-fa, the honorific word is sung-
■nga, and the high honorific word is ka-nang-nga ; the ordinary
word for “ eye ” is mi, the honorific word is shap, the high

GOSSIP AND CUSTOMS

2X7

honorific word is chen (spelled spyan), and so on indefinitely.
It is impossible to infer from the ordinary word what the
honorific term will be, or vice versa. Consequently, when one
wishes to learn Tibetan one must learn two, and in many cases
three, words for every single object, because to use an honorific
word to an inferior or an ordinary word to a superior is con¬
sidered the grossest insult.

Our lady visitor kept us awake for some time with her
stories, but at length withdrew to her room. She had with her
no female attendants, but had three male servants, and I
noticed all of them occupied the same room as their mistress.

Not flaring to join too much in the conversation, I had long
since curled myself up in my rugs, and as soon as we were left
alone fell fast asleep, worn out by the fatigues of the day.

By half-past two we were up and off again. For a long
time our way lay along the same gorge-formation as we had
experienced aU the previous day, but instead of the road lying
at the foot of the gorge alongside the river, it now ran up on
the side of the cliffs, about thirty or forty feet above the edge
of the stream. The nature of the path was such that we had
to walk.

During the first part of the journey, when it was still pitch-
dark, I could do without my goggles and managed to follow
the trail without stumbling, but at the first hint of light I put
them on, as our travelling-companions were right in front of
me. I was now more than ever in inky blackness, and tripped
against the man ahead of me and shot over into the ravine.
The clifi had seemed perfectly perpendicular, but fortunately
I discovered that there was just enough of an incline to break
the full force of my fall, though I came down with a terrific
thump upon the ice-crust of the river. The ice, unable to
stand the strain, cracked and broke, and I was precipitated
into the freezing water below. Thus in place of the warm
bath which I had coveted the night before, I was forced to
take an involuntary cold plunge.

It is at moments such as these that one forgets matters of
disguise, and I must admit that in my surprise at finding
myself in the water I uttered a few strong English oaths. I
have lived for a year at a University settlement in the East
End supposedly in order to help the poor. The benefit which

2I8

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

the poor got from me was more than dubious, but I managed
to enlarge and improve certain aspects of my vocabulary at
this time. Fortunately my present efforts ended in a gurgle
as my head sunk under the water, and our Tibetan companions
above were too startled and too far above me to catch in any
way distinctly what I said, so no great damage was done.
The river was shalow, only some three or four feet deep, and
Lhaten and the syce managed to fish me out before I could come
to any serious harm. I found, on being hauled up, that my
servants had been more frightened than I. Both Lhaten and
'' Satan'' wasted ten good minutes in abusing me for my
carelessness, and I found that, in spite of my superior advan¬
tages of education, their supply of appropriate words was
much greater than my own. Before long we were able to
continue our journey, though I was badly shaken by the fall
and had somewhat injured my right hip. For this reason
I was very glad to find that a little later the road widened out
and we were once more able to ride.

Shortly after dawn, and after passing another village, the
valley once more entered into an entirely new type of formation.
The gorge disappeared and the valley became broad, fiat, and
even, the river running through the middle of this valley
without having carved out a canyon or ravine.

I was interested to see how one valley could show three such
entirely different geological features. At the mouth, near the
Brahmaputra, the river seemed very old and weary ; near the
source the river seemed young and new. Personally, I am
sure that the secret of this lies in the fact that until compara¬
tively recent times the great Yamdro Lake extended to where
we now were, and that it has gradually receded to its present
boundaries, and thereby lengthened the upper part of the
river by many miles. We occasionally met parties coming
from the other direction. I was much amused to notice that
quite a number of the people we met, particularly the young
men and the boys, wore masks. This, of course, had nothing
to do with disguise, but was merely a means of protecting
their faces from the biting cold and cutting winds. These
masks were made of leather, yak-leather, and had weird features
painted on them, making their wearers look like mountain
elves.

GOSSIP AND CUSTOMS

219

Yas^, the destination of our friends, was not many miles
away, but we halted about ten o’clock at a little village on the
road, as one of the men had a married sister who was living
there, and here we had our usual “ brunch,” or breakfast-
lunch, and rest.

I was interested to find that marriages took place between
families living so far apart, for here was a woman who had
married a group of brothers living three days away from her
native home, but, contrary to my expectation, I found that
in Tibet such matches were by no means uncommon.

This is partly accounted for by the Tibetan dislike of marry¬
ing near relations.

There are very distinct laws in Tibet governing consanguinity,
though these laws are not strictly abided by. Nevertheless,
despite seeming laxity of morals, both before and after
marriage, and the freedom exercised by woman and man in
matters of sexual relationships, marriage is not, as a rule,
contracted with kinsmen less than three or four degrees
removed. The law of Tibet forbids alliances within seven
degrees of consanguinity, but this is disregarded as to the letter
of the law. In the lower ranks, marriage is not unknown
between close relatives where neither party claims a common
parent, and I believe cases do exist of marriages between nephew
and aunt, and son and stepmother, though, needless to say, such
cases arc rare. I had one bit of luck in this village. Lhaten
went through the baggage trying to find a needle wherewith to
mend a tear in my clothes caused by my faU earlier in the day,
andhe found in the bottom of one bundlea handful of rolled oats
which had fallen out of the tins we had used in the passes. I
hailed the discovery with great joy, for my stomach revolted
against the eternal barley-flour of Tibet. As we were halting
with a private family, and not at a rest-house, there were no
other travellers to observe what we were doing and our com¬
panions were busy gossiping with our hosts, so I managed
to cook the oats while no one was looking. A cupful of milk
was also procured on grounds of illne.ss, and I sat down to my
feast. Sugar, alas! there was none, so I had to revert to
the barbaric custom of the Scots, and eat my oats with
salt; but even so, after this secret orgy I felt a nobler and
better man.

220

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

Shortly before noon we set out on our journey again. As we
went along I noticed a large number of springs—this time,
however, of cold water—^by the side of the road. These ran
down to the river, which was now appreciably smaller. The
river itself, being no longer hidden in a gorge, was exposed to the
devastating rays of the sun, which had melted a good deal of
the ice covering, so that we could see the water flowing in the
middle, but so strong was the wind in the opposite direction
that its blasts on the river made it seem as if the water was
flowing backwards and uphill; in fact, so strong was the illu¬
sion that the syce and Lhaten thought it to be real, and bowed
down in worship of a supposed miracle.

Before long our thoughts were turned in other directions, for
we met a Lhasa nobleman and his suite travelling in the
opposite direction to us. He had, it seemed, recently been
appointed lay Governor of the district in the extreme west of
Tibet, and was then on his way to take up his new post. AU
of the servants were mounted, and a little way behind came
another twenty mules carrying the new Governor's baggage.
It was indeed a most splendid procession.

The harness was ornamented with tufts of red wool, and
around the necks of many of the animals were strings of bells
mounted on leather straps, so that there was a vast amount
of jingling as the procession passed. Most of the servitors were
armed with modem and very efficient-looking rifles, and the
leaders had also long whips with which they drove our own and
all other parties out of the way.

The servitors of lower grade were clothed in dresses of red
wool, though the wool was of the finest texture. On their
heads they had huge flat red caps, like giant inverted plates
covered with red braid. The Governor himself, and the higher
members of his staff, wore dresses of silk, beautifully brocaded,
and for the most part yellow. Tibet, of course, is far too cold
to support the silkworm, so that all silk has to be imported
from China.

Although all along the way such an official would be housed in
the best rest-houses, the services supplied would anyhow be
primitive, so that the large retinue of servants was really
necessary. Half of the servants are placed before, and half
behind him, riding single, or sometimes double, file. Two of

GOSSIP AND CUSTOMS

221

the most important servants, however, ride some considerable
distance ahead. These are the machen, or the cook, and the
nyerpa, or the chief butler. They must get to the destined
rest-house before the others, so as to have both food and room
ready for the Governor when he arrives.

The procession of a nobleman in Tibet is indeed an
imposing spectacle, but most of the splendour is only gained
by the severe oppression of the peasants along the route
of march.

The Tibetan peasant suffers under the system of indirect
taxation known as the ula. According to the ula law every
family, according to its wealth, must supply, free of charge,
to every Government official armed with a permit, a certain
number of riding and transport animals for the use of himself
and his servants while travelling along the road. Not only
do the peasants have to lend their animals to the officials free
of charge, but they must also supply all the food for the
animals without compensation. They must accompany the
animals in order to feed and attend to them, and finally they
must silently bear the loss of their animals should any of them
die on the road, as very frequently happens owing to the
outrageous usage which the ponies and mules receive at the
hands of the official’s servants. Needless to say, this ula system
is none too beloved by the populace.

As soon as the Governor and his party came in sight, all of
us dismounted from our ponies and withdrew to the side of
the road. “ Satan ” and the elder of our companions, being
supposedly of higher ranks, contented themselves with remov¬
ing their hats as the procession rode past, but I and the other
members of the party were forced to give the more formal
Tibetan salutation. This consists of opening the mouth and
sticking out the tongue—surely a most curious way of showing
respect! The fists were also clenched and the thumbs were
elevated as a sign of surrender, while “ Diogenes ” and I were
even more humble and with our open palm pressed our right
ear forward.

The Governor, of course, made no answer to our salute, and,
in fact, two of his servants, out of pure devilment, lashed out
at us with their whips and gave me a stinging blow on the
shoulders. I was quite satisfied, however, to get off as lightly

222 TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

as this, for I had feared that our party might be stopped and
interrogated.

About two hours later we came to the village of Yase, where
we had to halt for a short time and surrender our borrowed
ponies, as our travelling-companions had now come to the end
of their journey.

CHAPTER XVIII

INTO THE LION’S MOUTH

It was stiU very early in the day, and I had intended after
a few minutes’ halt to push on to Pede Dzong, several miles
farther on, but on arriving at the village I received a most
serious shock which necessitated a change of plans.

My long absence from Darjeeling had begun to excite
comment, and when no news came from Sikkim as to my
whereabouts, suspicions began to be aroused. Finally, the
news that I had been seen near Lachen made it certain tha.t
I had entered Tibet and was probably trying to make my way
to Lhasa.

Certain agents of the Tibetan Government immediately
sent news to the Lhasa authorities of the rumours that had got
abroad, and on the 7th of February, the day I left Shigats^,
the Lhasa Cabinet had been informed that I was probably
already in the country, and was without doubt heading for
the Sacred City. The fact that no news regarding me had
come from the outlying posts made them certain that I was
trying to get there in disguise, and consequently the next day
orders had been sent out instructing all the local officials to
keep a sharp look-out for me, to have me stopped, imprisoned,
and sent back immediately. Another day or two having
elapsed without news of my capture, the Government had
issued further orders that all travellers coming in the direction
of Lhasa were to be stopped and examined, so as to be sure
that no one slipped through their fingers.

As the result of these orders sharp watches had been held
at all the main roads, but as we had been journeying from
Shigats 4 by a side-road along which official commurdcation
is much slower, we had hitherto heard nothing of these exciting

223

224 TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

events. But we had now come to the point where our side-road
joined the great highway leading from Gyangtse to Lhasa, so
that here the wildest rumours regarding the " foreign devil ”
had become public property. Consequently we found the
villagers much excited about the matter, and we were questioned
as to whether we had seen anything of the intruder—questions,
of course, which we answered in the negative.

It was very fortunate that we had been traveUing with and
arrived at Yase in the company of people who were well known
in the village, so that not the slightest suspicion seemed to fall
on any member of the party. Our Tibetan companions were
to halt here, so that we were no longer to travel under their
protection, and I became obsessed with fears as to what might
happen to us during the next few days. We were stiU seventy-
five miles from Lhasa, and as the whole of that distance would
lie along the great high-road over which the strictest watch
would be kept, I hardly knew what to do. So far we had
escaped detection largely because no one was on the look-out
particularly for us, and though I felt much more at home in
my disguise and had greatly benefited by having been thrown
into the closest contact with my fellow-travellers, I could not
believe that I should escape detection if a close personal
examination were to be made.

I had, however, either to give up the whole adventure, or
else to press on in spite of these new dangers, and, of course,
I chose the latter alternative, though I determined to make no
more dangerous experiments such as the eating of chickens
or the surreptitious cooking of oatmeal.

Only one change was made in our arrangements. Between
Yase and Lhasa we should have to pass through two towns
which were the capitals of districts, and where there were
Governors and military ofi&cials in residence. These were
Pede Dzong and Chushul. Ordinarily I should have spent the
night in both places, but I knew, as a result of instructions
from Lhasa, much stricter watch would be kept in these towns
than in the smaller villages, so I decided to halt only at inter¬
mediate points. In accordance with this plan I concluded it
wise to go no farther this day, but to spend the night in Yas6.

It was still very early, so rather than spend the whole time
in the rest-house I went out for a long walk in order to add

INTO THE LION’S MOUTH

225

further details to the map of the country which I was making.
I took Lhaten with me, and also my materials for disguise, as
I wished to repair any defects which time might have made,
and it was easier and safer to do this out in the open than in
the village. As soon as we were out of sight Lhaten touched
me up, renewing my disguise as well as could be, after which
I threw the pigments away, for I was afraid that our baggage
might be searched at some time or other, when the discovery
of such articles would give our secret away entirely.

We then continued our walk, as I wanted to catch a glimpse
of the famous Samding Monastery, which was not very far
away. Just ahead of us we caught sight of an arm of the
Yamdro Lake, the largest lake in Tibet, and one of the largest
lakes in the world, but as we approached it I noticed the river
rapidly dwindled down, then took a turn to the right and
vanished! This very much surprised me, as the Rong River
is supposed to have its source in the Yamdro Lake, to be, in
fact, the only outlet for the huge lake which is fed, according
to report, by several considerable streams. And yet the river
has certainly no direct connection with the lake. Remember¬
ing the phenomenon of the hidden tributary of the Brahma¬
putra, and the mysterious springs we had noticed that morning,
I am inclined to think that a certain amount of water from the
lake finds its way to the river by some underground source.
In any case, it cannot be much, for the Rong River is never
very large, though geologically it seems to have been much
more important in the past.

Just at this point, about the short stretch of land between the
source of the river and the outer arm of the lake, I noticed an
enormous amount of wild life, chiefly hares, cranes, wild-duck,
and the beautiful Brahman duck, quite common in parts of
India, and which has the reputation of being xmeatable.
Once again the tameness of the animals and fowl was
remarkable, and we were almost among them before they
took to flight.

But we were soon to see that, though they had little to fear
from man, they had numerous other enemies with whom they
had to contend, for lurking in the background were a number of
foxes and wolves. On one occasion we saw a hare chased and
finally caught by a wolf.

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

2^6

None of the foxes or wolves were either black or grey. They
all had the sandy-brown appearance that fitted in so well with
the landscape and which, in fact, made them invisible until they
began to move.

With the usual conception of Tibet before one, that of arid
wastes and absence of vegetation, the abundance of animal life,
both wild and domestic, seemed extraordinary. In a general
visualization of Tibet, the very fertile tracks, particularly in
the east and south-east, and also the pastoral regions, are but
dimly realized, when, as a matter of fact, the wide range and
multitude of fauna in such parts is remarkable. Even in the
higher plateaux, and in the little-known northern tracts, at an
average altitude of approximately 16,000 feet above sea-level,
the animal life is exceptionally plentiful. The chief animals of
Tibet one has come to assume as being yak and sheep, dogs and
ponies, some goats, antelope, and wild asses, whereas, while
these are found roaming about in large numbers everywhere
in the valleys and over the upland pasturages, wolves, black
and yellow bears, lynx, and in some parts tigers and leopards,
abound, and also smaller beasts such as hares, marmots, and
lagomys (the tailless rabbit), rats, and other rodents ; martens,
weasels, and badgers, otters and porcupines; wild-fowl is
plentiful: ducks, geese, partridges, sheldrakes, and sand-
grouse.

Arrived at the shore of the lake, we found the water covered
with a thick sheet of ice. We here met the Gyangts6-Lhasa
road, for the road runs along the banks of the lake for some
considerable distance; but as there was no village along this
stretch, we turned to the right and followed the road for some
little distance, until we came in view of the Samding Monastery,
which eventually we sighted at the extreme end of the lake, only
a mile or two away, placed on top of a little hill which rose some
300 feet above the level of the lake.

Samding (lit. the Temple of Soaring Meditation) is one of
the most famous shrines anywhere in Tibet. It is in one
way unique in that about half of the inhabitants are monks
and the other half are nuns, while the head of the monastery,
with all its branches, is a woman, a reincarnating embodiment
of Dorje-Pamo, the Pig-Faced Goddess, one of the most popular
of the Tibetan deities.

INTO THE LION’S MOUTH

227

Her monastery belongs to one of the red-hat, or unreformed,
orders, which are frowned upon by the prevailing yeUow-hat
hierarchy; but an exception has been made in her case, and
she is treated with royal honours by the Lhasa Government,
sharing with the Trashi Lama and the Dalai Lama the privilege
of riding in a sedan chair when she travels. She is also exempt
from the rule that all nuns must shave off their hair, and is
permitted to wear her hair long, but, on the other hand, she is
never permitted to assume a recumbent position. In the day¬
time she can sleep sitting up in a chair, but the whole night she
must spend in meditation in the rigorous position demanded
for this practice.

She is reputed to be possessed of various magic powers, one
of which reminds us of the ancient Greek legends of Circe. The
story goes that in 1717 Tibet was invaded by a body of Tartar
soldiers who were Mohammedans. On approaching this monas¬
tery,* " their chief sent word to the Dorje-Pamo to appear
before him that he might see if she reaUy had, as reported, a
pig’s head. A mild answer was returned him, but incensed at
her refusing to obey his summons, he tore down the walls and
broke into the sanctuary. He found it deserted, not a human
being in it, only eighty pigs and as many sows . . . under
the lead of a big sow! When the Tartars had given up all
idea of sacking Samding, the pigs suddenly disappeared,
seeming to become venerable-looking lamas and nuns,
with the saintly-looking Dorje-Pamo at their head. Filled
with astonishment and veneration for the sacred character of
the lady abbess, the chief made immense presents to the
lamasery.”

I did not dare draw too near the monastery with its quaint
inhabitants, for there is a story that, as a result of the visit of
Sarat Chandra Das, the Indian babu, many years ago, the water
of the tiny Dumo Lake changed its colour and became poison¬
ous, and ever since then the inhabitants have been particularly
keen in trying to keep foreigners away. As Samding did not
lie on the way to Lhasa, I did not see any reason for need¬
lessly poking my head into danger, and so, after we had seen
what we wanted to, Lhaten and I turned back, retracing our
way to the village of Yasd.

*** Sarat Chandra Das, Journey to Central Tibet^ p. 139.

228

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

Poor Lhaten had been much frightened by the news we had
heard in the village, and during our walk tried to dissuade me
from going on with the venture. He suggested that, if I go on,
I at least do so openly, so that the worst that could befall
would be imprisonment and expulsion from the country, for,
if I were caught in my disguise, he thought that I should
certainly be killed. I told him that we had now gone too far
to turn back and I meant to carry on till the end, no matter
how great the risk ; and though the faithful man grumbled, he
promised to stand by me to the end.

Once back in the village, we found the syce and “ Satan ”
busy with accounts. They were trying to reckon how much
they owed our travelling-companions for the loan of the horses.
The Tibetans are extraordinarily bad at arithmetic, and find
it impossible to add even the simplest problem of arithmetic in
their heads.

Pen-and-paper calculations are also almost unknown, so
that they are forced to count either on their fingers, with little
stones, or with beads. This last is the most common way, and
nearly every Tibetan is possessed of a rosary, which he some¬
times uses for religious purposes to tell his prayers, and
sometimes for secular purposes to add up his accounts. In
the larger cities use is also made of the abacus, which is so
frequently employed in China.

Even with this aid the Tibetans find calculation very hard
work, and it took our friends nearly an hour, squatting in the
courtyard and fingering their beads, before they arrived at the
sum which I had done in my head in a very few minutes.

This slowness of wits the Tibetans share with the Mongolians,
and in consequence both peoples were, in the old days of
Chinese influence, frequently fleeced by the more nimble-
witted Chinese merchants. And this is one of the reasons for
the deep-seated hatred which both the Mongolians and the
Tibetans have for their Celestial neighbours.

I had found the ruse of joining -a Tibetan caravan so useful
in escaping suspicion in Yas6, that I decided to join another
one, and sent Lhaten around the village to find out if there
was any other party on its way to Lhasa. He found that there
was none which was going all the way to the capital, but in the
next rest-house there was a party of three men who were going

INTO THE LION’S MOUTH

229

as far as Chushul, about forty-five miles from Lhasa, and for
lack of anyone better, we arranged to go on with these folk.

To my regret we were comparatively late in starting, and
it was nearly four o’clock before we left the village. In this
case our new friends had no extra horses to spare, so we were
once more forced to walk. But I was not altogether sorry for
this, for though my iUness made me very weak, pedestrianism
fitted in much better with my role of coolie, and I felt that by
tramping there was much less chance of discovery. It was
now a case of walking into the lion’s den, at least so I felt it,
and so, as an additional precaution, I arranged to carry the
largest and bulkiest-looking of the burdens. “ Satan,” of
course, was riding, and I kept close to the tail of his pony.

While it was still dark, we once more reached the edge of
the lake, but this time, turning to the left, we kept on for many
miles along the water’s edge. When daylight broke we could
see before us, a quarter of a mite away from the lake, the great
castle of Pede Dzong—sometimes written Palti Dzong. I had
hoped to pass this under the cover of night, but our delay had
exposed us to the sight of one of the watchmen on the turrets.
We had no intention of halting in the Httle village underneath
the castle, but as we were hastening through it, two petty
officials ran down from the dzong and commanded us to stop.
They were obviously of no great rank, but were clothed in
long woollen dresses of a dark blue-red colour, with the curious
broad, flat hats we had observed the night before. They
carried no firearms, but had long whips with bamboo handles.
We were interrogated by these officials as to where we had
come from, and whether we had seen a foreigner on the way.
At this moment I thought indeed the game was up, but though
they subjected “ Satan,” as master, to the closest possible
scrutiny, I, as the servant, was only very cursorily examined,
less attention being paid to me even than to Lhaten. Our
travelling-companions were already known on this route, so
that they were not physically inspected, although they were
also questioned as to the people they had seen on the road.
In my case they were content to tear open my dress, and finding
my chest to be as brown and as dirty as the others, we were
allowed to pass. My eyes, the feature of which I was most
afraid, they strangely enough passed over unnoticed, but in

230 TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

any case the Tibetan mind could not imagine that a white
man should be willing to trudge thirty miles a day carrying
thirty-five pounds on his back, while his servant rode a pony
in great state ahead of him.

We were eventually told that we could go on without any
further trouble, and I was very glad to do so. Our companions
suggested that, as we had been delayed, we should stay and
have our rest in Ped6 Dzong, but “ Satan,” to my relief,
negatived this suggestion, and we put our best foot forward
on the road. For mile after mile our course lay along the
side of the great Yamdro Lake and we could begin to realize
something of its vastness.

Set in a plain and surrounded by rich pastures. Lake Yamdro
is one of the largest expanses of water in Tibet. It has a
circumference of about 109 miles, and its waters are deep,
while stretching out into it is the famous peninsula which
terminates in the island-like head of To-nang. The peninsula
joins the western shores by two narrow strips of land, and the
natives liken it to a scorpion holding the shore by its two claws.
At a point where one arm reaches the mainland has been
built the renowned Samding Monastery, which I had seen the
preceding day, while on the little hills running down the centre
are four other monasteries owing allegiance to the Mother
Superior of Samding. Yamdro Lake is 14,000 feet above
sea-level, and its waters are perfectly fresh. Three small
rivers empty into the lake from the south. The Rong
River has its source at the north-west comer, and the lake
receives the glacier drainage of the north-eastern area.

The district supports a fairly large population, for to the
south are low prairies which serve as pasturages for the nomad
Dro-pas’ herds, while on the other plain, just beyond the
mountains to the east, there is a deal of pony-grazing. On the
north is a barrier of high mountains on a narrow strip which
intervenes between the Brahmaputra and the lake, the river
being 2,000 feet below the waters of the lake. The space
between is but about eight miles wide, but the Kamba-la,
as this range is called, effectually prevents any leakage from
Yamdro into the river.

Off the south shore is the small island of Yambu, where a
branch of the Samding Monastery is built, and not far from

INTO THE LION’S MOUTH

231

here a smaller lake stretches up to the boundary of the Yamdro,
being cut off only by a ridge of rocks. This lake, called
“ Rombudza Tso,” or the Corpse-worm Bottle Lake, is the
burial-place of monks, and is for this reason given so strange a
name.

Yamdro, sometimes called Lake Palti, but quite wrongly,
is situated in a really attractive position, the high snow-clad
mountains contrasting with luxuriant pasturages, and there is
a greater sense of active life here than in any other part of the
Tibetan countryside through which I passed.

Tibet is a land of lakes. One can scarcely make a day’s
march without meeting with one or more sheets of water, mostly
shallow ponds, though frequently of great size, lying in the
hoUow of the plains, or scooped-out basins on the hills. More
often than not the lakes appear in groups, strung out one after
another, or in batches in a circumscribed area. None of these
lakes is supplied by an important stream, but presumably all
rely on glacier drainage, or the melting of the snows, to replen¬
ish them. Here are to be found the highest-placed waters of
the world, inland seas at an altitude above 15,000 feet. Hora
Tso, which has 118 square miles surface, and has several islands,
holds the record in height: it is 17,930 feet above sea-level.
This is in North-west Tibet. The highest European lake is
at Neuchatel, Switzerland, at an altitude of 1,437 feet, the
record in South America being 13,700 feet (Guatapuri Lakes,
Columbia), and in North America 4,200 feet (Lake Waterton,
in the Rocky Mountains, U.S.A.). The largest Tibetan lake is
Koko Nor, in the Nan-Shan mountain range of the north-east,
which is 168 miles round, followed by Tsagyu Tso (or Chargut),
Tso being "Lake,” though frequently the saline waters are
called “ Tsakka,” i.e. " Saltpit,” which indicates to some
extent the extreme salinity of most Tibetan lakes, especially
in the northern territory.

A large number of the Tibetan lakes are excessively saline,
so that as the waters evaporate, and recede from the shores,
deposits of soda, potash, and borax are left as a fringe. The
whole of the northern lakes appear to be heavily laden with
salt, including the swamps and lakes of the Tang region, but in
the Dro territory the waters are fresh and aU contain supplies
of fish. From native salt-collectors and travellers it is reported

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

232

that nearly all the lakes of the north-western area are salty,
and great quantities of salt are available in this district. Also
pure chloride of potash is found in some places, being heaped up
in piles. The cause is undoubtedly the widespread flooding
of the rivers and the melting of the snows, which draw the salts
from the ground and deposit them indiscriminately as the
floods abate or the waters evaporate. The cold and heat take
up the work, and eventually the wind scatters the salts, or blows
them into large mounds. Some lakes hold a quantity of impure
nitrate of potash, which is collected and used for making gun¬
powder.

Near the lakes are found the hot springs which the Tibetans
appreciate so much. Most of these contain a quantity of salt.

Everywhere one sees signs which suggest a tendency of the
lakes to recede. And the traditions around the Manasarowar
Lakes, near the Kumoan Himalayas, seem to bear out this view,
for the tales treat of waters 500 miles across, whereas in no place
do they now exceed twenty miles in length. On the islands
with which many of the larger lakes are dotted are built
monasteries and shrines which the peasants visit chiefly in
winter, when they can cross on the ice, for the Tibetan native
is not a capable boatman, and in summer has other things to
occupy his time. Where the waters appear near mormtain
peaks of any importance, the peaks are given a masculine name,
or male affix, while the lakes are always feminine : a curious
conceit which is either rooted in tradition, or has given rise to
the strange stories which abound in which mountain and lake
have an animate existence.

As we went along the banks of the lake we noticed a great
number of ground-mice. There were thousands of them, and
I wondered what they could find to eat. As there were very
few villages along this stretch, they could not feed from stolen
barley; in fact, the only thing visible on which they could
subsist was a little moss.

It was, and has since remained, a mystery to me why these
little ground-mice have chosen just this place to settle in.
Along the Brahmaputra Valley I had seen nothing of them, and
in fact the only other place in Tibet where I found them was on
the bleak Pari Plain. There was one difference between the
Pari mice and the Yamdro variety. Around Pari the mice were

INTO THE LION^S MOUTH

233

of a light-brown greyish colour, while around Yamdro their
coats had in its brown a marked touch of red. But both varie¬
ties had one thing in common—^they had no tail. They were
very fat and stumpy-looking, and in general appearance much
more like guinea-pigs than mice. They had a curious way of
squatting on their hind-legs and surveying all about them until
we came sufficiently near to frighten them, when they scurried
into their holes. The ground was full of these holes ; every
two or three yards we came upon a fresh one. Satan,'' busy
in reciting his prayers for the day, did not notice them and
allowed his pony to stumble in one of them, which resulted in a
nasty fall. He had been going so slowly, however, that the fall
was not serious and he was only badly shaken, but on picking
himself up he started cursing me with enormous gusto, as if I
had been responsible for the mishap.

We had no time to argue. It was necessary for all of us to
push forward, in spite of fatigue, at our best possible speed, for
we had in front of us another difficult pass to cross that evening,
and it was doubtful whether we could make it befofe nightfall,
as it is supposed to be a full day's march from Ped6 Dzong.
We shuffled along as best we could.

The poor pony was utterly exhausted, and Satan " had
great difficulty in urging him beyond a walk. What beating
could not do, however, was effected by jealousy. For some
extraordinary reason the aged donkey we had bought in
Shigats6, and who had served us remarkably well, had won
our pony's undying hatred. Both observed a strict neutrality
with the mules, but by bites and kicks tried to render life
obnoxious to one another, and on this occasion, when the pony
tried to fall behind, we had only to spur the donkey on in front
to make the pony gather together all Ms energy to keep ahead.
He obviously did not mind allowing a mule to take the leader¬
ship, but to resign his post to a mere donkey was too great a
blow to his pride.

We kept steadily on all the morning without reaching any
other village, and I was suffering from the pangs of hunger
rendered aU the more acute because we could see no resting-
place along the coast ahead of us. A little after noon, however,
we suddenly came upon a tiny one-roomed house hidden in a
depression. This house served as a midday rest-house for

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

234

travellers along the highway and has been given the name of
Tsakang. Here we stayed only half an hour, and, having
eaten as heartily as we could, started again on our journey.

Nearly the whole of the afternoon we plodded along the shore
of the lake. We saw quite a good deal of trai&c. Two or
three times we met caravans of mules carrying bales of wool
down to Pari to be stored there until the spring, when the passes
would be open. The wool then could be taken down to
Kalimpong. Nearly the whole of the wool-trade of Tibet is
in the hands of a small group of traders, most of them inhabi¬
tants of the Chumbi Valley : and a very good thing they make
out of it. Even Tibet, in spite of its backward condition, is
confronted with the very modem problem of monopoly and
trusts. In the last few years several attempts have been made
to break this wool combine, but in all cases they have
failed. Frequently the would-be competitors have died
mysterious and sudden deaths. Poisoning has been made into
an accomplished art in Tibet, and is very frequently employed
in settling private feuds. Aconite is the poison most fre¬
quently employed, but others are not infrequent, and I believe
that there are three or four poisons employed by Tibetans
which are completely unknown to the European toxicology.
In addition to its secret use, aconite was also used openly in
preparing poisoned arrows, with which the Tibetans were
accustomed to fight. At the present day guns of modem
make are rapidly displacing the aconite-tipped arrows, except
in the outlying districts, but the use of this and other drags
for secret poisoning seems to show no sign of abating.

All the way we could see that the lake was covered with a
thick coat of ice, though with occasional seams indicating some
flow. Several times during the day we saw men walking across
the frozen lake from the mainland to the peninsula, or island,
in the middle, for hidden behind the hiUs on the gireat neck
of land were several villages. In most cases these crossings
were accomplished without difficulty or incident, but on one
occasion, late in the afternoon, we were the spectators of a
tragedy. Two men who were walking nearly in the centre
came to a point where there was a bad flaw in the ice. We
could see they had to jump across a seam. The ice on the
other side was obviously weak, for it cracked under them and

INTO THE LION’S MOUTH

235

they were precipitated into the freezing water below. They
attempted to crawl out, but they could not find a block
of ice capable of supporting their weight, and soon they were
so numbed by the cold that they fell back helpless and sank
beneath the water. We could see their heads appear once or
twice, and then they sank again—and disappeared for ever.

I was astonished at the phlegm with which my companions
looked on at a catastrophe happening before our eyes. We
passed one of the caravans just at the time, and its members
paused for a few moments to look at the tragedy taking place
a few hundred yards away, but they continued their amiable
chatter and no one made any move to save the uirfortunates.
Help was, I admit, impossible; the victims were too far
away; but I remembered the cold plunge to which I had been
subjected to the preceding day, and I could not but shiver
at their fate.

Once or twice we saw where formerly there had been villages
of moderate size, but which had now become deserted. This
is a sight which is very common in Tibet, for Tibet presents
the appearance of a djing country, though in the last few
years, since 1912, there have been signs of revival. In this
particular instance, the downfall of these villages was due, so
my companions told me, to the abolition of fishing. Although
fish is considered a dirty food, the Tibetan peasants not
infrequently eat it, and the Yamdro Lake is noted for the
size and excellence of its fish. But the present Dalai Lama,
who is more than usually strict in his observance of religious
injunctions, has issued strict orders that the catching of fish
should be stopped, and, although in the more out-of-the-way
places this order is not very strictly observed, in the villages
nearer the highway this order has had a very deleterious
effect ; the poor villagers, finding their chief means of a liveli¬
hood taken from them, were forced to go elsewhere.

In Tibet far greater attention seems to be paid to animal
welfare than to the welfare of human beings.

About four o’clock in the aftembon we came to a parting
of the ways. To the right a road continued along the shores
of the lake, leading to the villages and the pasture-lands on
the other side. To the left a trail started up the side of the
mountain leading to the Kampa Pass. We had to follow the

236 TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

latter, and soon began a steep ascent. The Yamdro Lake lies
just over 14,000 feet above sea-level, and the mountain
range dividing it from the Brahmaputra Valley, which lies
just on the other side, is about a thousand feet higher. The
upward climb was not, therefore, very long, but we and our
animals were all so fatigued—I in particular, owing to the
nervous excitement of the morning—that the ascent seemed
endless. Half-way up one of the mules suddenly sat
down, and it required all of our efforts to get her on to her
feet again.

The latter part of the climb was considerably less steep.
Shortly before sunset we arrived at the top of the pass, and
could once more see the Brahmaputra Valley stretched out
before us. The scenery was magnificent, in fact, we had here
the finest view which I had ever seen in the country, but as
I was acting the part of a Tibetan peasant it was impossible
to stop too long to admire natural beauty.

As usual, just at the top of the pass we found two chortens,
or shrines. We added our stones to the little pile in front of
each, and also tied a rag to the brush sticking out above the
stone-heaps. We recited a charm {mantram) in honour of the
gods, rested for a few moments, and then began our long
descent. The descent was much longer than the ascent, for
whereas the pass lies only 1,000 feet above the level of the
lake, it is 3,000 feet above the level of the Brahmaputra Valley,
which lies much lower. The descent was in places extra¬
ordinarily steep and rendered somewhat dangerous by the dark¬
ness which was now rapidly falling. In one place we came upon
the body of a mule that had fallen from the upper portion of
the road almost immediately above us. The corpse lay in
the little stream which ran down from here to the village at
the bottom of the valley. We later found the stream was the
water-supply for this village ; but the Tibetans are not at aU
fastidious in these matters, though they have a healthy dislike
of drinking cold water, water being only drunk in the form of
chang or tea, the preparation of which renders it more or less
safe.

It is curious to find how in many cases popular superstitions
have as their basis a certain amount of truth. The Tibetans
regard tea as a preventive of typhoid and other forms of fever.

INTO THE LION’S MOUTH

237

The truth is, of course, that in order to prepare the tea they have
to boil the water, thereby killing the germs.

It took us about two hours and a haK to descend the pass,
and we came at last to the Brahmaputra Valley itself. Here we
found the village of Kampabartse, and here we rested for the
night. Our rest-house, I was glad to find, was not in, but on
the outskirts of, the village. It was in conformity with the
general type—the common-room being but a walled-in stall
in one comer of the courtyard. I noticed several points of
difference between the inhabitants of this village and those of
the villages in which we had hitherto stayed, especially in
reference to the language, one or two minor customs, and also
the dress of the people, more particularly of the women. The
hairdress of the women was one of the most important changes.
This transformation, we found, was due to the fact that we
were now in the province of U, and had left Tsang behind us,
the technical dividing-line being the pass. We were now,
therefore, not only in Tibet, but in the very heart of Tibet, in
the province of which Lhasa itself is the principal city.

CHAPTER XIX

RUNNING THE GAUNTLET

It was thrilling to feel that we had come so far in spite of the
innumerable obstacles which had stood in our path, but I
knew that the nearer we got to the capital the stricter the watch
would become.

That evening we were to encounter one peculiar difficulty.
We had changed a good deal of our Indian money into Tibetan
currency, but the hire of the ponies to Yas6 had taken a good
deal of our stock, and on arriving at Kampabartsd we found our
little store of Tibetan coins was completely exhausted. We
had, of course, some of our old friends, ten-rupee Indian notes,
and “ Satan " tried to get our landlady to change these, but the
old dame had never seen one before and was very suspicious.
In Ped^ Dzong, which is a much larger community, we should
have had little or no difficulty in changing a ten-rupee note, but
in thus staying at the smaller villages to avoid the officials, we
had got ourselves into additional hot water.

The old nemo proved as adamant as any boarding-house
landlady in Bloomsbury, and discovering our financial difficul¬
ties refused to let us have any fuel or chang until we had paid
cash, and what we proffered as cash she refused to accept.

In these circumstances we hardly knew what to do.
“ Satan ” said that the only thing was to sell something. But
what in the world had we to sell ? Lhaten suggested one of
the tin pots in which we were accustomed to boil our tea—^for
cooking utensils are among the things the traveller in Tibet
must take along with him. We had two, and one must be
sacrificed. Just at this moment I remembered that, in addi¬
tion to our ten-rupee paper notes, I had a few silver rupees in
my bundle and I quickly got these out. Calling the mmo back,

838

RUNNING THE GAUNTLET

239

we proffered them to her. She still seemed hesitant, but after
clinking these silver coins together she decided to accept them,
and so after all we secured fire and something to drink.

I had been very much afraid that our possession of only
Indian coins might lead to suspicion as to our identity, so we
were careful to teU the good lady that we had been on a trading
tour to Kalimpong, where we had been paid for our goods in
Indian money and had not yet exchanged it for Tibetan, as the
rate of exchange was more favourable in Lhasa—a point which
was in fact true. But I was grateful to note that she was not at
aU upset about the matter, and said that only a few weeks
previously some travellers had attempted to pass off some one-
rupee notes on a rest-house in the same village.

Fortunately, while aU this colloquy was going on we were
alone, for no one was staying at the rest-house except our party,
and our three companions had gone off to see an acquaintance
in another part of the village.

After our meal, as I wanted to put the nemo in a good humour,
I suggested to Lhaten that he call her in and give her a cup of
chang. This is frequently done in Tibet, and the old lady was
not slow in accepting our invitation, in fact she stayed on
with us interminably and regaled us with her gossip.

I was nodding in one comer and pa5dng little attention to the
conversation, when suddenly I heard the woman mention that
a foreigner was trying to get to Lhasa, and as we were coming
from Kalimpong, she asked us if we had seen anything of him.
Needless to say, we possessed no information regarding any such
person. Lhaten added that though we had heard the rumour
concerning him, he thought the whole thing was probably false.

The good lady said she would like to see the “ foreign devil ”
and give him a good piece of her mind, but she was sure that,
so great was the vigilance of the ofl 5 .cials and so powerful was
the spiritual force of the Dalai’ Lama, the intruder would
certainly be detected and sent back to his own village.

I was interested in this latter statement as showing the
implicit faith which the Tibetans have in the divinity and
power of their suzerain. In spite of the many vicissitudes
which have marked the reign of this and previous holders of the
office, most Tibetans really believe that the Dalai Lama is
omnipotent, and nearly all have faith in the omniscient.

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

240

The fact that the present ruler was twice forced to flee the
country at the peril of his life is glossed over or forgotten,
or sometimes it is explained away. Our hostess was firmly
convinced that by means of his spiritual powers the Dalai Lama
could have told at any moment where I was and what I was
doing. The only class of Tibetans who are sceptical on these
matters are the monks, particularly the Lhasa monks, and
those in immediate contact with the Court.

The old lady left us at last. Our companions returned soon
afterwards, and before long all of us were sound asleep.

Very early the next morning we were off again, and painfully
made our way in the dark, for there was no moon, and it was
only the extraordinary road-knowledge of our companions that
enabled us to make progress. For several miles our route lay
along the south side of the great river: the murmuring of its
stream a few hundred yards away was frequently in our ears.
In the gloom we passed through several sleeping villages, one
or two of which had some fine old trees about them. The
watchdogs outside the houses barked at us, but we went on
without stopping. A flank of hills began to close down on the
river, forcing us nearer the banks, and here we found the road¬
way sandy. We were up to our knees in sand, but stiU we
ploughed on in silence.

Just before dawn we came to a very important landmark,
the famous Chaksam Ferry, placed where the outreaching hfll
forms a cliff overhanging the river. Here is to be found a
regular service of boats which carries passengers from one side
of the river to the other.

This is the only ferry along this portion of the Brahmaputra,
and for some reason I had been terribly afraid of this spot,
as it was possible here to see each traveller so closely that I
felt sure an official would be posted at this place to examine
all travellers. I was, therefore, particularly annoyed to find
that the ferrymen were not yet awake, and when roused refused
to cross until it was fully light. I shivered in the cold for a
short while, and then, not wishing to remain too near the ferry
hut, I continued for a few minutes along the cliff to catch a
nearer glimpse of the monastery, a half-mile or so farther down.

This monastery is a place of some repute, though it has only
some hundred inhabitants. Its fame is largely due to the fact

RUNNING THE GAUNTLET

241

that it is the starting-point and base of the great iron suspension
bridge which formerly spanned the Brahmaputra River at this
point.

The great bridge is still standing, and very picturesque it
looked in the early dawn, but it is no longer serviceable, as in
recent years the river has greatly widened its banks, so that
the farther or northern end of the bridge now forms a small
island standing in the middle of the stream. The Tibetans
did not have energy enough to extend the chain bridge to the
present bank, and so have fallen back upon the ferry system
for getting from one side to the other.

Such is the decay of Tibetan vigour; the old bridge was
well made and has stood the test of centuries. It was built
by the King Tantong who was bom about 1385, and is now
a saint in the Tibetan religion, his image being worshipped in
the adjoining monastery. The bridge was not his only
engineering achievement, for he is said to have built 108 temples
and shrines and seven other chain bridges over the Brahma¬
putra. It is said that some of the other bridges erected by
him up the river are still in use.

It was now quite light and high time to hasten back to the
ferry. As we retraced our steps we were overtaken by a group
of nuns from the convent, who also intended crossing the river.
They were gaily chatting, and occasionally burst out into
shrieks of laughter. Apparently their religious confessions
did not interfere with their enjoyment of life. The heads of
all these nuns were shaven, but I noticed that some of
them wore curious thick wigs of coarse wool and coloured
a dusky red.

I was glad to find the ferrymen were at last getting ready.
There were three or four of the Tibetan yak-hide coracles
lying beside the bank. The nuns and the three or four other
foot-passengers got into these, and though they sank deep in
the water and, owing to their unwieldy shape, turned round
and round in the centre of the stream, causing the womenfolk
to squeal excitedly, they reached the other side safely.

We had several animals with our party and so could not
cross in these kowa, or coracles. For travellers such as ourselves
there was provided a large rectangular, flat-bottomed wooden
boat, the only one of its kind, I believe, anywhere in Tibet.

■ Q

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

242

We' had a great deal of trouble in getting the animals into
the ferry, and this awkward-shaped boat was very slow and
cumbrous in its movements. But at last, with a bump, we
reached the other side, a broad, sandy plain opening before us.
Contrary to my fears, no attempt was made to search or examine
us. This may have been partly due to the fact that the ferry
is privately owned, being, in fact, the property of the monastery
which we had seen, a considerable portion of the revenue of
which comes from the toll exacted from each passenger. For
our whole party, however, consisting of five persons, a pony,
two mules, and a donkey—our companions, of course, paid
their own fees—-we paid only three trangkas (gc?.) ferry
charges, so that in this case monopoly does not seem to have
brought about excessive rates.

Our road now lay for several miles along the north bank of
the Brahmaputra. Our companions were anxious to get on
to Chushul, their home, and without waiting for us trotted on
ahead. “ Satan,” who, of course, was also mounted, accom¬
panied them, and we agreed to meet at Chushul.

At this point the Brahmaputra Valley is a little under
12,000 feet above sea-level, very low for Central Tibet, so that
it forms one of the warmest and most fertile parts of the
country ; consequently we could see villages strung out in all
directions only a very few miles apart, and passed through
two or three on the way to Chushul.

In one of these there was an inviting-looking courtyard which
stood upon our left. “ Paris,” the mule, also saw it, and
suddenly bolted into it, and it was only with the greatest
difficulty that we could get her out. In fact, she kicked up
such a rumpus that the whole courtyard was in an uproar
before we could get under way. The poor mule was trying
to give us a signal that she had come to the end of her resources,
but it was a signal which we could not understand, and which,
alas ! in any case we could not have heeded. The good farmer
into whose courtyard we had broken was not at all inclined
to take matters philosophically ; he cursed us mo.st roundly,
and even pursued us down the road to throw stones at us, and
to give us a full account of our ancestry on both sides.

This httle incident refreshed us wonderfully, and we con¬
tinued on our way in a much better frame of mind. The plain

RUNNING THE GAUNTLET

243

soon narrowed down to a gully just sufficient to let us pass
along in single file, and then we rounded a tapering cliff and
found ourselves at the important town of Chushul.

Our companions had stationed a boy outside to wait for us
and to show us where their house was, so that before long we
were able to halt and take our midday rest.

Chushul occupies an important strategic position. At
this point the Kyichu, or River of Felicity, flows into the
Brahmaputra. Lhasa hes some forty-five miles up the
Kyichu, so that here we were to depart from the great river
ag^ain.

In 1910, when the Chinese invaded Tibet and the Dalai
Lama was forced to flee to India, the Chinese sent a detachment
to capture His Holiness and bring him back. A Tibetan rear¬
guard commanded by Namgang, the present Tsarong Shape,
Commander-in-Chief of the Tibetan Army, made a stand at
this place and by a magnificent battle managed to keep the
Chinese back for several days, giving the Dalai Lama time to
reach the frontier in safety. This battle was destined to be the
turning-point in Namgang’s career, and thereby a decisive
point in Tibet’s destiny.

On the top of the near-by hill are the ruins of an old dzong, or
castle, but this had long since been destroyed, and though
Chushul is the centre of an administrative district and has its
two Governors, these officials are now housed in a large dwelling
inside the village, adequate and imposing, but obviously having
nothing of the castle or fortress in its construction.

This was very interesting to me, as indicating a gradual
change in Tibet’s social organization. Just as in Europe, the
walled city has disappeared, and with it the use of castles as the
headquarters of the governing powers, so at the present time in
Tibet, many hundreds of years later, a similar tendency is
evident, and probably there, as elsewhere, the dzong, or castle,
will give way to the palace. In some ways it is a pity, for the
castles form one of Tibet’s chief glories.

Among the various buildings at Chushul belonging to the
Government I noticed one which had an enormous hole in the
wall. This was pointed out to me, and it was explained that
not long previously an elephant was sent by the Maharaja of
Nepal to the Dalai Lama. On his way up to Lhasa he had

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

244

been housed in this building, and during the night had leaned
agamst the wall, with the result that the whole side had given
way. Frightened by the damage which he himself had done,
the elephant had bolted and caused a tremendous turmoil and
excitement before he was recaptured.

While we were resting after our lunch, our hosts regaled us
with tales of the dishonesty of Cheshul people as a whole, and
the wicked tricks which were played upon travellers to deprive
them of their money and valuables. I could well believe these
tales, as the Chushul thieves have a reputation throughout the
country, but I was surprised at the nmveU with which the local
inhabitants confessed such matters. But in other ways it is
interesting to note how the Tibetan people have a shrewd
suspicion of their own weaknesses.

We were singularly lucky in sta57ing with acquaintances in
Chushul. In this way not only were we saved from the wiles
of thieves, but, as I found out later, we escaped a searching
examination on the part of the officials.

Chushul is so much regarded as the gateway of Lhasa that
especial orders had been issued to the rest-house keepers here
to report the arrival of any unknown travellers so that they
could be searched by the officials, and it was believed impos¬
sible that anyone could escape through the Chushul net; but
our travelling-companions, who were, of course, well known in
the place, vouched for us to the officials, and we got through
without difficulty.

Even so, I was very anxious to get away from the village as
soon as possible, and shortly after noon we started out again.
Very much to my regret, we had now to go on alone, as our
friends were staying behind and we could find no other party to
which we could attach ourselves.

We were now in the Kyi Valley. For about ten mites it
preserved a wide, open formation, and looked nearly as broad
as the valley of the main Brahmaputra River. For the first few
miles it was very thickly inhabited.

On the road between two of the villages we saw a very
interesting marriage procession.

The marriage ceremonies of Tibetans of all ranks and classes
are more or less alike, and as there is no caste system, though
the aristocarats and officials are a proud, domineering race, it

RUNNING THE GAUNTLET

245

sometimes occurs that rich men claim wives from among the
women of the poorer people, though it is very rare that male
commoners marry into the families of the higher grades. Most
frequently, when an aristocratic girl fails to contract a good
match, she ends her days in one of the numerous nunneries.

Matches are first arranged by go-betweens, after which the
would-be bridegroom makes a formal offer of the marriage to
the bride's parents. Consent, which is ever delayed while a
form of traditional bargaining goes on, is finally conveyed to
the bridegroom’s parents, who then make a present of a large
quantity of wine to the house of the bride. A general enter¬
tainment is then provided, at which all members of the families
and their servants attend to dispose of the wine. Kata, or the
Tibetan ceremonial scarves, are also presented to all and
sundry by the bndegroom’s parents.

This is a preliminary to the conveyance of the dowry, or
purchase-money, called tin, which is paid over to the bride’s
father at a repetition of the previous ceremony.

The bridegroom does not go to fetch his bride, but deputes
seven or eight male friends to induce her to leave her home.
They stay with her parents for three days, when, laden with
clothing, and if fairly well-to-do, accompanied by a pony, a yak,
a milch-cow, and perhaps some oxen, carrying jewellery, plate,
and other articles for domestic use, she prepares to join her
future consort. It is strange to note that the custom of making
wedding-presents prevails in Tibet, and the bride is loaded with
all sorts of gifts, according to her rank, by friends and relatives,
A party of the bridegroom’s friends arrives to escort her to her
new home, on arrival at which she is seated on a cushion on a
raised dais, where she remains with the bridegroom until a local
lama performs a short service, and prayers are said. The two
chief parties have little to do or say, but the bridegroom’s
parents make a declaration that henceforth the bride will be
owned by the bridegroom and his brothers solely—a part of
the service which will scarcely appeal to the modern Western
women. Feasting follows, with presents to the bridegroom,
and this continues for three days, when normal life is resumed
after the wife has exchanged her bridal wardrobe for dress
presented her by her husband. Some time later there is a
renewal of festivities. But these ceremonies are not so

246 TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

elaborate in the case of the common people, though generally
the main customs are observed.

While, however, there is one bridegroom, all his brothers
become husbands of the bride and arc proportionately respon¬
sible for her welfare. Marriage takes place at a relatively early
age—between fifteen and twenty-five years of age—and very
often the bride is older than her man.

I was very much amazed to find a marriage taking place at
this unusual time, shortly before the Tibetan New Year, and
can only suppose that some urgent private reasons must have
dictated it.

Later in the afternoon the soil became much more sandy and
the line of the Little villages ceased. It also became very
inconvenient to walk, and it was only with the greatest difficulty
that I could continue to place one foot in front of the otlier. I
felt so numbed by illness, weakness, and fatigue, that [ could
think of nothing but one step at a time. Just at this point
“ Paris,” the mule, suddenly collapsed. She sat down and
refused to move.

The situation was maddening. " Satan ” got off hi.s pony,
and we added some of the mule’s load to ttie packs the pony
was carrying; but even so, much wa.s left oviir, and W(' our¬
selves could not carry an ounce more. We sat down by the
roadside in despair trying to think what we .should do. While
we were still arguing the point wc wore overtaken by four or
five peasants who were carrying curious spears, lluiy saw
our sorry plight at a glance and told us that thci village of
Jangme was only three or four miles aiiead, an<l Unit they
would, for a small fee, carry " Paris's ” discarded packs on
to that village, where we could stay for the night and try
to make further arrangements.

We were very glad to accept their offer and once more pushed
on. Once her load was off, we managed to get “ Paris ” on
her feet again, and wc even persuaded her to accompany us to
the village.

Soon afterward the valley narrowed down tf) a rocky gorge
with many twists and turnings, and we were seldom able tc» see
more than a few yards away.

About an hour later, while we were still in the gorge, a
peculiar incident occurred which I fed it necessary to relate.

RUNNING THE GAUNTLET

247

as it so nearly led to my undoing. I had pressed on a quarter
of a mile ahead of the others and was of a sudden compelled to
micturate. No one was in sight at the time, and I so far
relaxed my disguise as to perform this duty in European
fashion, i.e. standing up, instead of following Tibetan custom
and squatting down.

Just at this moment a Tibetan official accompanied by two
retainers, coming riding around the corner and surprised at my
attitude, immediately stopped and asked me who and what I
was. I was surprised to notice how so small a thing as standing
or stooping should awaken so much suspicion, and in my
confusion could only stammer out that I was ill and was but a
poor peasant coming with his master on pilgrimages to Lhasa.

Fortunately for me, at this moment “ Satan ” and Lhaten
put in an appearance. Lhaten took in the situation at once
and came to my assistance in a very effective way. He rushed
up, struck me with his whip, reproved me for dallying on the
way, and ordered me to go on immediately. I was thus
allowed to go on while the other two stopped to talk with the
official. Evidently their tale must have been very effective,
lor in a few moments they came on and waved to me that all
was well.

I was interested to find, many months later, on my return
to Europe, that Sir Francis Burton had a very similar experi¬
ence on Iris secret journey to Mecca many years previously,
though in his case the affair ended more tragically.

Not long alter this the gorge opened out to form a basin,
and here we found the twin village of Jangto and Jangme, or
Upper and Lower Jang, some thirty miles away from Lhasa.
We went to a rest-house recommended to us by our spear¬
carrying porters, and soon had our animals unloaded and sat
down for our much-needed rest. But after our evening meal
we had to put our heads together and arrange for our transport
for the next day; a most fateful and important day. for it
should bring us to our goal—the city of Lhasa.

But we were at our wits’ end, not knowing what to do as
regards our transport.

We went out to inspect the two mules, and what we saw
was certainly unpromising. “ Paris ” was obviously dropping
from exhaustion, and the other poor mule, though seeming

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

248

somewhat better, was distressingly affected by saddle-sores.
In fact, it was really worse than this. The shoe-blacking and
the other things which the syce had rubbed on the early sores
to cure them must have been septic, for the whole back of the
miserable creature was now swollen with a great abscess.

No one could look at the poor beast without a feeling of
pity, but I was surprised to find “ Satan ” become really ill
and so affected that he began to pray very volubly to the gods.
This feeling of mercy towards animals was aU the more
surprising considering how heartless he had been in regard to
the sufferings of his fellow-travellers and the merciless way in
which he had beaten “ Diogenes.”

This, however, was only another case, strange but frequent,
in which a man reveals more feeling for dumb animals than for
his fellow-man. It seems to be particularly true of Tibet,
where the killing of a man is treated in many instances as less
serious than the killing of an animal.

Sorry as I felt for the animals, I felt even more sorry for
ourselves owing to the desperate situation in which we were
placed by their collapse. Here we were only some thirty odd
miles from Lhasa, and it appeared almost impossible to get
on. To advance without our transport was out of the question ;
our animals had given in, and I did not have sufficient money
to buy any more. At this time I had only 300 rupees left, and
once these were gone I .should be utterly helpless, pcnnile.s.s in
the depths of a strange and savage land. I could not, there¬
fore, afford to buy any other animals, but I told Lhaten to go
around and try to hire some horses for the last day’s journey.
He tried in several places, but in vain. Had we been provided
with ula, or Government passes, the peasants would have been
forced to provide their animals, but without this pressure they
refused to part with any of them in spite of tempting offers.

At last, however, Lhaten met an old farmer, living on the
outskirts of the village, who seemed open to a proposition.
He refused to rent his ponies for money, but upon hearing
that we had two mules to dispose of he agreed to take the
mules off our hands, thinking that a little rest would put them
on their feet again, and in return for the mules he agreed to give
us outright one pony, and to lend us two other ponies as far as
Lhasa.

RUNNING THE GAUNTLET

249

The old farmer thought he was making a very fine bargain,
because in Tibet a mule is worth nearly twice as much as a
pony, and here he was getting two mules for one pony, and a
poor, miserable, forlorn-looking pony at that.

I, however, was quite satisfied at the turn of affairs, for it
allowed us to move on the next day, and I learned later that
“ Paris ” died not long afterwards, so that this unpromising
bargain turned out to be the only successful horse-deal with
which I was ever connected.

Before long we were aU asleep, but so exhausted by the
day's vicissitudes that it was nearly four o’clock before we
started off on the last day’s journey.

It was still dark, but we had no fear of losing the road, as
we had with us the two sons of the old farmer who were coming
with us to Lhasa to bring back the two ponies which had been
lent to us.

For two or three miles our path lay along the sandy banks
of the river, but after this the river-valley narrowed down
considerably and we were forced to clamber up and along the
sides of the rocky hills which flanked the left bank of the river.
The road was terribly rough and stony, and many huge
bouldcis lay in the way, but it was obvious that the roadway
was artificial, and in parts had been carved out of the hillside
by human hands. This was the first time I had seen a deliber¬
ate attempt to construct a road. Everywhere else there were
simply tracks made by the passage of thousands of mules and
ponies which had passed over the plains and over the passes
at the most convenient spots. I was surprised that so much
trouble was taken to build a road along the cliff, as it seemed
to me that it would have cost less time and trouble to divert
the Kyi River, which wandered to and fro over the river-bed
in such a way as to leave a road at the foot of the cliff.

I was told, however, that the apparently mild, peaceful-
looking river was subject to great floods, changing it to a
raging torrent which not only filled the valley, but also dashed
in waves up the side of the cliff. Even more important was
the fact that at several places in the sandy banks at the foot
of the cliffs were quicksands which eagerly devoured everything
which rested on them.

It was difficult to believe this until we came to a place where

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

250

we could see a little donkey which, had slid down the sides of
the hill and was already half sunk in the moist sands, which
were gradually sucking him under. The peasants were trying
to drag him out with their leather ropes, but as we passed them
it seemed a fairly hopeless task.

For several miles our way lay along this awful rocky road,
but at length it descended on to the bed of the valley again,
and we were able to force our ponies on at a trot. About noon
we reached the village of Netang, where we stopped for our
usual breakfast-lunch and rest.

During our brief stay here I found time to visit the some¬
what neglected shrine of the great Indian priest Atisa, who
came to Tibet and inaugurated several important reforms.
These reforms later brought about the rise of the yellow-hat
sect, which is now the established Church of Tibet. Atisa died
here in 1052, and the shrine erected over his remains, even
though neglected, is still considered one of the most famous
and holy places of the country.

Early in the afternoon we started out again on the road, for
we still had many miles to cover that day. I departed, as usual,
before the others, thinking they would catch up in a
few minutes, but something delayed them and I had to go on
for several miles alone. I felt rather frightened at this, as I
met several people on the road, and in case of examination I
wanted someone by me who could do most of the talking.

Fortunately I seemed to awaken no suspicion in anyone, and
was only given an occasional hail; nearly all of the people I
noticed were going towards Lhasa, and very few coming away,
for the next day was the beginning of an important festival
season, so that Lhasa was attracting a large number of visitors.

As I was riding very slowly, giving my servants an oppor¬
tunity to catch up, I was frequently passed by small mounted
parties on their way to the capital. I noticed that no man of
apparent opulence rode alone or unescorted. In every case
there was at least one servant riding before and one behind.

I overtook and passed a number of travellers on foot.
Most of these were obviously pilgrims of great poverty—or, if
they possessed means, they were wise enough to hide it. One
such pilgrim attracted my especial attention, as he was measur¬
ing his distance along the ground. He would stand up straight,

The largest monastert m Tibet, housing neaih i0,0iK) of the turbulent, led (oi ftghting) monks

RUNNING THE GAUNTLET

251

his hands stretched above him, and then, prostrating himself
on the ground, would mark the place to which his finger-tips
extended. He would then step to this point and go through
the same process.

When I came near him he stopped and begged me to give
him some money, saying he was a pilgrim who, in expiation of
certain past misdeeds, was making pilgrimage in this slow and
laborious fashion to Lhasa. He added that he had started his
journey from Shigatse and had been just a year on the road.
He had been supported all this time by the donations of pious
travellers who had passed him.

I tossed him a small coin and then went on. Such acts of
devotion are not uncommon in Tibet, though this was the first
such devotee that I had seen. More usually such prostration¬
walking is confined to the circumambulation of a temple or
city. His method of travel gave me a humorous reminder of
the leeches of Sikkim, though in other respects I thought there
was more in common between these blood-sucking creatures
and the rapacious monks of Tibet than to this simple, naive
peasant.

The valley had widened out considerably, but immediately
ahead of me was a steep-rising hill which ran at right-angles to
the flanking mountains right down to the water’s edge. I
ascended the shoulder of this hill, thinking I would catch a
distant glimpse of the Forbidden City from the top, but on
passing through the shoulder I saw only the great valley ahead
of me, a valley that gradually widened and then became two
valleys, one running to the left and the other to the right.

Of the city of Lhasa there was no sign, but immediately
ahead, several miles away, there ran a range of mountains, and
from where I was I could see, on the lower slope of these moun¬
tains, a huge and very impressive group of buildings, rising tier
by tier in ever-increasing splendour. This, I knew, must be
the great Drepung Monastery, the largest monastery in Tibet,
and in fact the largest monastery anywhere in the world. In
theory it is supposed to have only 7,700 monks as residents, but
in practice this number is far exceeded, and at present the popu¬
lation of this huge monastery is over 10,000.

Inside of the city of Lhasa there are, of course, a number of
temples and monasteries, but none of them of great numerical

252

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

importance. But in the neighbourhood of Lhasa, apart from
numerous minor ecclesiastical establishments, there are three
great monasteries, each with its hordes of fighting monks, its
colleges, its own hierarchy, and each possessed of enormous
landed estates scattered all over the country. These three
monasteries have a great deal to do with the government of the
country, and even the Dalai Lama and his Cabinet dare not face
their wrath.

Of these the largest and most powerful, and at the same time
the most reactionary and turbulent, is Drepung, the monastery
which now lay directly ahead. It was, I knew, only four or
five miles from Lhasa. The second in size is Sera, with
nominally 5>500 monks (in practice many more), which,
I was told, lay some two or three miles north of the city;
while the last of the trio is Ganden (Gal-ldan), or Paradise,
Monastery, with nominally only 3,300 monks, which lay some
twenty-five miles from the city—a day's journey away. Though
the smallest from the historical viewpoint, Ganden is the most
important, as it was founded by Tsong-Kapa, the organizer of
the ruling yeUow-hat order of Tibetan Buddhism.

I descended to the foot of this spur, and there I found a huge
bas-reHef carving of the seated Buddha of gigantic proportions
and of considerable artistic worth. Here I decided to wait until
my servants should arrive, as ahead of me the plain seemed fuU
of life, and numerous mounted parties were passing to and fro.

My little party arrived eventually half an hour later. The
delay, it seemed, was due to the httle donkey bought in
Shigats^. So far she had kept up with the other animals with
apparently no difficulty, but had now begun to lag behind,
showing every sign of exhaustion, so we stopped for a few
minutes to give her a rest and an extra feed before pushing on
again.

We now had to make quite a long detour to the left, as
the river had widened out considerably, and much of the
plain in front of us was marshy and covered with stagnant
backwaters.

Mile after mile we covered always in the direction of Drepung,
and stiU no sign of Lhasa. Earlier in the day my servants
had been very chatty, but now a feeling of desperate fatigue
had come upon us all and we rode in silence.

RUNNING THE GAUNTLET

253

At length we came to an old village surrounded by majestic
and ancient willow-trees, and here we ran into a swarm of
beggars, who followed our party for over a mile gesticulating
and clamouring for alms, for were we not pilgrims coming to
Lhasa, and was it not heretofore our duty to acquire merit
through charity ?

The few karmanga thrown them did not appease the beggars,
and eventually Lhaten had to drive them back by threatening
them with his whip.

The traffic had now increased enormously. From the
numerous villages scattered over the plain there came small
mounted parties hastening along the great highway to get into
Lhasa in time for the important festivities which started that
evening. Many of these travellers were prosperous ecclesi¬
astics who showed most obviously that the gods favoured and
the people feared them. Many of the parties looked askance
at our quaint little caravan dragging itself wearily along the
road. Several times we were asked whence we came, and on
occasion, when “ Satan ” stated that we came from near the
Sikkim frontier, he was then asked if he had seen anything of
the foreigner who was said to be trying to get to Lhasa. A
brief denial brought the matter to an end; but it showed that
the rumours about my presence had been widespread and had
caused considerable excitement.

CHAPTER XX

THE GOAL IN SIGHT

A MILE or two beyond the village we came to a point where
the river bifurcated. The main Kyi River turned sharply to
the right, while its large tributary, the Ti River, ran in from
the left. We had now to cross over this tributary by
means of a very large and imposing bridge over a hundred
yards long, with masonry piers and substantial stone
embankments.

For some time past I had been so torpid with fatigue that
I had failed to notice the surrounding landscape, but suddenly
Lhaten called out to me to look to the right. Doing so I
felt a great and sudden thrill. In the distance, some eight
or nine miles away, I could see the Potala, the great
palace of the Dalai Lama, the god-priest of the Tibetan
people, and I knew that on the other side of the hill
on which the palace was perched lay Lhasa, the abode of
the gods.

The goal was at length in sight, and at last I knew that the
long, weary journey, the exposure, the privation, the illness,
the constant danger and fear of detection, had not been entirely
in vain.

We halted for some minutes to gaze at our objective, and then
pressed on, as we still had several miles to cover over a roadway
teeming with people, for the most part peasants bringing
grain, butter, and yak-dung into the city. Ponies, mules,
and donkeys were in abundance, many of them having jingling
bells around their necks. They progressed at a comfortable
rate, but so fatigued was our little caravan that most of them
overtook and passed us.

254

THE GOAL IN SIGHT

255

At last we came to the foot of the hills which I had seen
several hours earlier, and then we turned to the right to follow
the Kyi Valley up to Lhasa, which always remained in view
but which still seemed incredibly far away.

I was utterly exhausted, but now that the goal was in sight
I hoped that we could complete our journey without further
incident. But just when we had passed under the ruins of
the old Dongkar Castle and had the great Drepung Monastery
towering above us, a few hundred yards up the slope of
the mountain the little donkey suddenly and mysteriously
collapsed.

Lhaten and I jumped off our ponies and helped the syce lift
the donkey on her feet and readjust her load, and we then
made desperate attempts to get her on the move again. It
was in vain. The incident caused quite a crowd to collect,
and amongst the crowd I could sec many of the Drepung
monks, some of whom jeered and others shouted out advice
to us.

Drepung is well known as the chief centre of the anti-foreign
agitation, and many of its monks are fierce brawlers who back
their opinions by action, so I became very much embarrassed
at the attention which we were receiving. “ Satan ” became
even more nervous and left us entirely in the lurch ; he rode
on ahead, not wishing to seem associated with us in case of
exciting developments.

In the end we took off the donkey’s load and added it to the
ponies on which we were riding, but I left the syce and “ Dio¬
genes” behind with orders to try and bring the donkey on
later, as I thought that in Lhasa wo might possibly be able to
seU her for something.

While the mob were still interested in the syce’s struggles
with the donkey, Lhaten and I slipped on our ponies and,
accompanied by our two Changmd guides, continued on our
way.

Half a mile farther on we found “ Satan ” hiding behind a
little adobe hut. Seeing that we were alone and unmolested,
he deigned to come out and rejoin the party. It was neither
the time nor the place to say anything, but I was thoroughly
disgusted with the rascal’s cowardice in leaving us in the
lurch.

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

256

We had left the imposing mass of Drepung behind us, and
had now only three miles or so farther to go. Now onwards
the road was dotted with small groups of Drepung monks
making their way back to their monastery after spending the
day in the city.

Our goal loomed up very clearly before us, silhouetted against
the evening sky. The city itself was still invisible, and what
we saw was two hills surmounted by buildings. The smaller
and more pointed hill on the right is called the Chakpo-ri, or
the Iron Mountain, and the quaint square tower-like budding
on the right was the Lama College of Medicine. On the hill
to the left, larger but more rounded, was the Potala Palace.
As yet we could only glimpse the gilded spires of the roof of
this building, as the major portion of the palace is built on the
slope of the farther side of the hill. The main city, I knew,
lay about a mile beyond the two hills, but I wanted, if
possible, to halt that evening at the little village of
Potala-shol, which lies just at the foot of the palace on the
other side of the hUl.

In order to get there we had to pass through the narrow
opening between the two hills. So narrow, indeed, was the
opening that a huge chorten, or shrine, had been placed over
it, and we had to pass along the tiny roadway miming
through the shrine.

The roadway was but a guUy, and we had to dismount
and pass through in single file. But once through, what
a sight lay before our eyes! Before us ran a long and
magnificent avenue leading to the city of Lhasa itself, the
chief buildings of which could be seen looming up in the
distance. Immediately on our left we were face to face
with the gigantic stmcture of the Potala Palace, which
covered the whole of the hiU.

Though we had seen the rear of the palace many miles back,
this sudden appearance of the main building was most impres¬
sive, and I halted almost dumbfounded by its splendour. It
is a building wrought partly in stone and partly in sun-dried
and whitewashed brick. Nine hundred feet in length and
more than 70 feet higher than the golden cross of St. Paul’s
Cathedral in London, it possesses a simplicity but stateliness
of style that cannot but impress even the most sophisticated.

THE GOAL IN SIGHT 257

The upper centre part of the building was red, the
remainder white.

In the plain at the foot of the hill are numerous outhouses
belonging to the palace used as stables, storehouses, and
the residences of minor Court officials, and adjoining these,
though outside an encircling wall, are several private build¬
ings—^residences and shops.

A number of the residences also serve as rest-houses for
travellers ; to these we directed our attention. But here we
met with a fresh difficulty. Every one of these was already
crowded ; not only were the common-rooms literally crammed
with people, but large numbers had bivouacked in the open
courtyards.

Largely by accident, we had arrived at Lhasa at the most holy
and important time of the year. That evening (Februaiy 15)
was the last day of the Tibetan year, and the next day (Feb¬
ruary 16) was the Tibetan New Year, and the opening day
of the New Year festivities which were to last three weeks.
So many imposing pageants and ceremonies are held during
this time that it is small wonder that thousands of devout
pilgrims crowded into the capital to gaze in awe and wonder.
In addition, the city was overrun by monks from the three great
monasteries of Drepung, Sera, and Ganden, and other ecclesi¬
astical centres, many of whom were to take an active part in
the religious celebrations which attend the beginning of the
year.

It is estimated that, notwithstanding its holiness and
importance, the population of Lhasa at ordinary times is only
some twenty thousand (this does not include, of course, the
monks of the three outlying monasteries), but at New Year
time the population becomes more than five times as great, and
certainly exceeds one hundred thousand.

In spite of this fact, I had thought it would be possible to
squeeze in at some odd corner, but I was now to real i ze that it
was impossible to secure a place at any price where we could lay
our heads for the night. Every rest-house in the village was
tried in vain, and the rest-house keepers became abusive when
we attempted to push our claim for space.

The last rest-house we tried furnished us an additional excite¬
ment in the form of the largest dog I have ever seen. He was

■ R

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

258

unlike most Tibetan dogs, and looked like an overgrown St.
Bernard. When Lhaten started to expostulate with the
nemo of the house and demand that at least we be allowed
to sleep in the courtyard, the nemo's only reply was to let
loose the great dog, who at once snarled and jumped to
the attack.

The Tibetans are terrified of dogs, and aU in sight scattered
immediately, while despite our utter exhaustion my little party
managed to make its way out of the courtyard in really record
time.

As it was now quite obvious that there was no place
for us an3Tvhere in the Potala-shol, we determined to go
and try our luck in the city of Lhasa itself, a mile or so
farther on.

The syce and “ Diogenes,” who had been left behind with the
donkey, had not yet caught us up, and we waited several
minutes for them to arrive, but in the end we decided to push
on without them, as it was rapidly growing dark and it was
imperative that we get some shelter for the whole party as
soon as possible. So we set off down the long avenue leading to
the city.

Although, of course, unpaved, the avenue was remarkably
pleasant, not only on account of the breadth and evenness of
the road, but also on account of the parklike pleasure-gardens
which lay on either side of it. These pleasure-gardens were
private property, partly belonging to the Dalai Lama, and
partly owned by other aristocratic families, and were separated
from the road, by high, well-constructed adobe walls. The
gardens were filled with trees—willows mostly—and though it
was winter and the trees bare and black, after the many miles
of lifeless, plantless plains, these trees, which reared their
heads high over the walls, lent to the great avenue a remarkable
sense of beauty and grace.

We met many people on the avenue who were obviously
filled with the holiday spirit. Amongst the crowd was a group
of young officials who, relieved from their ordinary pomp, were
obviously out for a gay time and made many ribald jests at the
expense of the various little groups of pilgrims making their
way to the city.

One of them, keener-eyed than the rest, nudged his com-

THE GOAL IN SIGHT

259

panion and, pointing me out, T heard him remark that I looked
remarkably like a foreigner, but his friend, seeing my poor
shabby clothes, my woebegone appearance and general air of
humility (caused, I am ashamed to say, by a lively sense of
fright), laughed at him and remarked that I was obviously only
a misbegotten servant of a lousy Sikkimese. A rather pretty
peasant-girl hove in sight just at this time, and the attention of
the young sparks was attracted elsewhere, and I once more
passed on in safety.

A httle later the road turned to the right, and we soon came
to a canal which was formerly the main stream of the Kyi River,
but which is now only a stagnant backwater. This stream was
crossed by a famous bridge, the Yutok-sampa, or Turquoise
Bridge, a curious structure which has walls and a roof,
making it look like a long corridor. Here there was
supposed to be a guard to examine all travellers seeking
entrance to the city, but to my delight we passed over
unnoticed. The city proper began some two or three
hundred yards farther on, and was entered through a low
Chinese archway.

It was now too dark to see much of the city as we passed
through. We had, moreover, only one object in view—a
shelter of some sort for the night. We were destined, however,
to meet the same disheartening reception that we had received
at Potala-shol.

Our two guides claimed to know all the rest-houses in the
city, and following them we went from courtyard to courtyard.
Many of these courtyards housed as many as fifteen or twenty
families, and every family was approached in our desperate
search for a room or a share in a room. In each case we were
given the same answer : every space was already overcrowded.
Over an hour was spent in wandering from place to place, and
I began to fear that we should have to spend our first night in
Lhasa sleeping out in the open streets. To make matters
worse, these streets were now crowded with drunken brawlers
in honour of the occasion.

Men were shouting long songs in praise of arak> and several
laid hands on some of the local ladies, who seemed none too
unwilling, and more than once a fight broke out between
various groups of revellers.

26 o

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

I was in great fear of detection, after our experience a little
earlier, and I knew that, if detected, I should be seriously
injured, if not actually naurdered, by the irresponsible mob, so
I determined to make one more desperate effort to get safely
off the streets.

We were now in the very heart of the city, standing in the
great central market-place, and I noticed to the left of us a
large and rather imposing three-story building. We were told
by the guides that this building was the property of the
Government, and was divided up into a number of small
dwellings (we should call these apartments, or flats) and used
by some of the important Lhasa officials.

Such people were not, I knew, in the habit of taking in
travellers, but I sent “ Satan ” and Lhaten inside to teU
someone that we were a small party of devout Sikkimese
pilgrims just arrived and without lodgings, and to implore
permission to make use of some small room for the night.

The pair were gone some twenty minutes, while I was left
alone to look after the animals and to try to keep as much as
possible in the darkness.

Eventually my two servants returned, announcing success.
We were to be granted lodgings for the night, though we should
have to move on the next day. Wearily I drove our animals
into the great courtyard of the house. As was to be expected,
we found stable space on the ground floor, and once the ponies
had been attended to we prepared to ascend the two flights of
■ stairs leading to the apartments of our host. But I had now
reached the end of my tether. Nervous excitement had got
me up so far, but by this time I was so weak from illness and
fatigue that I could not climb the quaint ladder-like staircase,
and had to be carried up by my servants.

We came to the apartment of the man who had granted us
room, and in the tiny little out-room I was dumped down.
This little room was obviously used chiefly as a passage, a
scullery, and as a storeroom for argol —^the yak-dung fuel—^but
I was more than delighted to be able to occupy even this.

So weary was I that I immediately fell asleep, but a little
later I was awakened by Lhaten, who brought food, and the
best food I had had for many a day. I inquired from Lhaten
whether anything more had been seen of the syce or " Diogenes,”

THE GOAL IN SIGHT

261

whom we had left behind many hours earlier, and found that
“ Satan ” had been out looking for them in vain. They were
lost in the crowd. We were a little worried by this, but I
thought that with daylight the next day we could possibly
find them.

CHAPTER XXI

EXPOSED!

In the meantime I was concerned with a much more
important matter. Our host had not deigned even to come
out and look at us! He remained in his inner room, but the
small pet dog he possessed, attracted by the smell of food,
came out to inspect us, and immediately began to cause trouble.
The sense of smell must have told him that I was different from
the others, for he started barking very vigorously at me, and
at me alone. We tried desperately to silence him, but without
avail. His yapping began to attract attention, and I feared
that in this way I should be discovered. It seemed very
curious that I should be in Tibet all this time, undergoing
frequent examinations, and never be discovered, and here on
our first night in Lhasa to be suspected, and by a pet dog!

At this excitiug crisis I quickly made up my mind, somewhat
against the call of reason, to reveal myself. In the first place
I thought it better to reveal myself voluntarily than to be
found out by others, and secondly, I had always had it in the
back of my mind to reveal myself when I got to Lhasa. This
was partly out of a silly boyish feeling of braggadocio, to show
the Lhasa Government that I had been able to get there in
spite of their efforts to keep me out. I was also afraid, if I
came back to India and told anyone that I had gone to and
come back from Lhasa in disguise, that my tale would not be
believed, so that by revealing myself I should have definite
proof that I had been successful in my undertaking.

If I were to reveal myself, I knew that it must be to the
upper and more responsible officials that I should do so. Fear
of the British Government would probably keep them from
violent action, so that at least my life would be safe, for I

262

EXPOSED! 263

knew that if I were discovered by the irresponsible mob I
should have very short shrift.

As very unusual circumstances had brought me to the very
home of officialdom, I decided to use our host as the channel
of communication to announce my presence to the Dalai Lama.
Consequently, while the little dog was stiU barking, and to the
consternation of “ Satan ” and Lhaten, who thought I was out
of my mind, I doffed as much of my disguise as was possible
at a minute’s notice, and, making my way into the inner
rooms, I eventually found myself in the presence of my host,
and to him I immediately announced my identity.

I have never seen so surprised and astonished a person!
He gazed at me for several minutes in blank and speechless
bewilderment, but when he recovered himself sufficiently to
speak he managed to give me an even greater surprise, for I
discovered that the man who had been kind enough to give
us lodgings, after we had been refused admission at at least
fifty other places, was no other than Sonam, the official who
had charge of the new communication system between Tibet
and India and the intervening points. 1 1 was through him that
the news had come that I had entered Tibet, and was probably
in disguise, and it was through him that the orders had gone
out that a special search should be made for me in order that
I might be stopped and turned back.

What wild freaks the goddess Chance plays upon us at times I
It seemed hardly credible—this dramatic meeting—and yet
here we were facing one another.

At first I thought I had walked right straight into the lion’s
den, and had revealed myself to the person who was most
hostile, but I soon discovered that things were more favourable.
Sonam was a Lepcha, born in Sikkim. He had been partially
educated in Kalimpong and had seen a good many Englishmen
and had been very much impressed by the white man’s prestige.
The Lhasa Government had brought him to Lhasa on account
of his knowledge of the " foreign devils,” and hence able to help
the Lhasa officials in their attempts to improve their means
of communication.

After the shock and surprise of the first meeting had passed
away, Sonam and I sat down to a long and serious talk as to
what was to become of me during the next few days. He

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

264

himself was very friendly, and promised to do everything to
help me out, but he warned me that I was likely to have a very
troublous and dangerous time ahead, as I had arrived in
Lhasa just at New Year time, when the fanaticism of the general
populace was at its greatest height.

After some discussion, we decided that the best plan for the
immediate future was to inform the Dalai Lama privately the
next day of my arrival, and then to wait for further develop¬
ments.

Nothing could be done until morning, but Sonam was
determined to make my first evening in Lhasa a pleasant one.
I was much surprised to see the great trouble he took to make
me comfortable.

He insisted upon making me change my quarters and occupy
his own private room, while he moved out to the room next
door, occupied by other members of his family. I was thus, for
the first time in many weeks, furnished with comfortable and
private sleeping-quarters.

Although I had already eaten the simple food Lhaten had
prepared, Sonam gave numerous sharp orders to his servants,
and a little midnight supper was prepared. The food was not
at all in Tibetan style: some dishes were Indian and some
Chinese. This meant that the food was cooked, and much more
palatable than any I had had for a long time, and I sat down
to the banquet with a relish, grossly overeating, considering
how iU I was.

Chang and arak, the native beer and brandy, followed as a
matter of course. Considering the perils which were to over¬
hang me the next few days, I thought it wise to emphasize my
priestly rank and refuse these, but Sonam overcame these
scruples, saying that even the high-priests of Lhasa forgot their
duties at New Year time and joined in the liquid rejoicing.
Having thus started on the way to perdition, how easy it was
to foUow in it I

During his stay in Kalimpong, Sonam had acquired a taste for
cigarettes —& taste which he had found it impossible to over¬
come in spite of the terrible anathema against tobacco on the
part of the Government. The sale or use of cigarettes was
particularly prohibited by the Dalai Lama, but, as with all
prohibitory laws, there was the usual “ bootlegging.” Sonam

EXPOSED!

265

had managed to smuggle in a supply which he kept carefully
hidden and locked away, for in Tibet drinking is only a vice,
while smoking is a crime.

As I was not a Tibetan, Sonam relied upon my broad-minded¬
ness in the matter, and getting out his secret store of cheap,
wretched Indian cigarettes, he ofiered some to me. It was the
supreme symbol of the confidence he placed in me. I had not
smoked anything since entering Tibet. At first the craving
for tobacco had been very terrible, but it had subsided and I had
now almost lost the desire for it, but as I knew so much of my
future safety in Lhasa lay in keeping Sonam’s friendship, I did
not dare offend him by refusing, and so went the whole gamut
of wickedness by lighting up with him. Wicked cigarettes they
were, filled with raw, acrid, coarse tobacco—^but how soothing
they were to the soul!

After our secret smoke was ended I went out to see how my
servants were faring. This also gave me a chance to see some¬
thing of Sonam’s abode and the way in which Tibetan officials
live.

On one point Lhasa is curiously modern. Only the very
wealthiest families can afford to have a whole house to them¬
selves. The poorer families, even those with good official ranks,
are forced to content themselves with what are called flats in
England, or apartments in America—a suite of five or six rooms
inside one of the great Lhasa houses.

Sonam, having only recently come to Lhasa, and with but
a small family, was forced to content himself with only four
rooms. This little flat was quite self-contained, and had
only one door connecting it with the outside world, a door
lea^g from the out-room on to the verandah, which
encircled the enclosed courtyard around which the house
was built.

Of the four rooms, one was the little out-room, allotted to my
servants, where fuel was stored, and except as a passage was
very little used. Opening out of it on one side was the kitchen,
where food was prepared, and where Sonam’s servants also
slept; it also served as a food-larder. On the other side of the
out-room was a door leading into the large common-room.
This served as the family living-room, reception-room, dining¬
room, and bedroom, for here slept Sonam’s family, which

266

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

consisted of Sonam’s brother, his wife, and a female cousin of
his wife who was there on a visit.

On the other side of this common-room was the inner private
room, used by Sonam himself. This was the room which
Sonam had given to me while he went to the next room—the
common-room, where he joined the other members of the
family.

It was extremely kind of him to treat me in this way, though
it was obvious that prudence had something to do with the
change of rooms, as we had decided it was better for me to keep
my presence in Lhasa a great secret from the general public
until it could be seen what attitude the Dalai Lama and his
ministers would assume towards me. As long as I stayed in the
inner room I should run no risk of discovery, as it was entirely
to one side, and ordinary visitors could come to and leave the
common-room without ever suspecting that anyone was in the
little room beyond.

In accordance with our plan, I gave my servants, and Sonam
gave his servants, very strict instructions that nothing was to
be said to anyone as to my arrival. Sonam gave such a vivid
description of what was likely to happen to the whole household
in case the secret was betrayed that I felt pretty sure no tongue-
wagging would take place, at least for the next few days.

After this, the sudden excitement being over, I retired to my
room for the night. There was still the terrible uncertainty of
what the next few days would bring forth, as few of the other
officials were as modemly-minded as Sonam, but after crawling
inside my blankets I was soon fast asleep, well content to let
the morrow look after itself.

Early the next morning I was awake again. Lhaten came
in with a cup of tea, and I then arranged for him to go out
with “ Satan " to the markets and buy provisions for the next
few days, for even though I was housed in Sonam’s flat, it was,
of course, understood that, in accordance with Tibetan custom,
my little party made its own housekeeping arrangements. It
was further understood that my two servants, while they were
out, were to keep a sharp look-out for the syce and “ Diogenes,”
whom we had lost the previous evening. I was much afraid
of what might happen to them, as I knew that neither one had
any money on his person when we parted from them.

EXPOSED !

267

After the servants had gone I determined to see what I could
of Lhasa. It was too dangerous to attempt to go through the
streets, and in any case I felt too ill even to attempt a sight¬
seeing tour, but with Sonam’s help I got up on top of the roof
of the house, and from there commanded a panoramic view
of the whole city. It will be remembered that roofs in Tibet
are perfectly flat, so that we were able to walk around in perfect
safety, gazing at different parts of the city. The outer parapets
of the roof rendered me invisible from the street, so that I had
an ideal place from which to spy on aU that was worth seeing,
particularly as the house lay right in the heart of the city,
and was the highest building anywhere in the city proper.

To the west lay the Turquoise Bridge, and beyond it the
pleasure-groves stretched up to the two hills dominated by the
Medical College and the Potala. Although a mile away, the
Potala seemed to lose none of its magnificent splendour, and
the rays of the early-morning sun falling on it gave it an
altogether fitting golden glow.

The Potala hill hid from view the Drepung Monastery which
lay beyond, but some two or three miles to the north, at the
foot of the same range of hills—a range which runs almost due
east and west—^lay Sera, the second of the three great monas¬
teries. Drepung wields the largest political power, but the
monks of Sera are particularly noted for the excellence of their
liturgical knowledge. To have a Sera monk lead a religious
service is a great honour, and in a country where religious
services are believed to control the forces of the universe such
a reputation is invaluable. To anyone acquainted with great
ecclesiastical organizations it will not be surprising to know
that Sera and Drepung are deadly rivals, and are constantly
trying to encroach on one another's prerogatives. To the east
the great Lhasa Plain continued for some six miles before it
was once more closed in by the mountains. Occasional manor-
houses dotted the plain, and through it ran the great highway
leading io Ganden, the last of the three great monasteries, and
far beyond that to distant China and Mongolia. Entrance to
Tibet from China, or on the part of the Chinese, is now
prohibited, but the Mongolians are permitted to come on
pilgrimage to Lhasa, and even as I looked I could see two or
three caravans of pious Mongols picking their way over the

268

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

plain. Mongolian caravans are always recognizable, as they
contain the great Mongolian two-humped camels; in Tibet
itself camels are not used.

To the south ran the K3d River, the River of Felicity, well
named, for its waters make the Lhasa Plain so fertile. On
the other side of the river the plain continued for another mile
or two until it gave way to the southern range of east-and-west
running hills.

Immediately around me lay the city of Lhasa itself, some
half a mile square. In the old days it was surrounded by a
wall, in true mediaeval fashion, but the wall has now been
destroyed, though small portions of it remain and can still be
seen.

Lhasa consists of a cluster of the usual Tibetan type of houses
made of sun-dried brick and whitewashed, with flat roofs, and
generally with a courtyard formation, most of them two stories
high, though three-story buildings are not uncommon.

Here and there a building of more imposing style or propor¬
tions would thrust itself upon the eye. Needless to say, all
such buildiugs were rdigious foimdations. A little to the
north was Ramoch6, unusual because it is a temple, and not
a monastery, the oldest temple in Tibet, and famous as an
historic mausoleum. In holiness it ranks second only to the
chokang, or cathedral, of which more wiU be said hereafter.

A little to the west of Ramoch^ was Tsomoling, and still
farther to the west, near the Turquoise Bridge, was Tengyeling.
Tengyeling and Tsomoling are two of the four so-called royal
monasteries of Lhasa. The third, Kunduling, lies beyond the
Medical College hill, while the fourth is situated on the southern
side of the Kyi River.

These four monasteries have an interesting and unique
position. They are enormously wealthy, having landed estates
in all parts of Tibet, but they have remained very exclusive
establishments. While Sera, Drepung, and Ganden have
grown steadily in numbers, these four lings have limited the
number of their members, and none of them has mote
than five hundred monks, all of them picked men, whose
daily routine is more than usually elaborate and strict. The
abbot of each of these monasteries is a remcamating embodi¬
ment of some Tibetan deity, and in times past these abbots

EXPOSED!

269

had a virtual monopoly of the post of regent, or de facto king,
of the country during the minority of the Dalai Lama. As the
present Dalai Lama was the first in many generations to survive
his coming-of-age, it can be seen that the abbots of these four
privileged and aristocratic monasteries had a great deal to say
in the government of the country. During the long reign of
the present Dalai Lama, who is more than able to rule without
the aid of a regent, these ancient establishments have lost much
of their power.

The largest and most prosperous-looking monastery in the
city was none of these four royal lings, but the Muru Gompa,
which lay a little to the north-east of where I was standing ;
yet undoubtedly the chief attraction of Lhasa was not any one
of the buildings previously mentioned, but the great chokang,
or cathedral, which lay immediately before me, just to the
south, on the other side of the market-place.

This cathedral is the holy of holies for all Tibetans
and Mongolians, the St. Peter’s of Tibetan Buddhism,
to which come thousands of pilgrims every year, doubly
interesting, moreover, because it is the centre, not only of
Tibetan religion, but also of Tibetan government, for in one
wing of this great building are the offices of the Lonchen, or
Prime Minister, the Kashak, or Cabinet, and the Tsongdu, or
National Assembly.

In spite of its fame and importance, the chokang is not nearly
so marvellous in its size or its architectural beauty as the Potala,
the palace of the sovereign. This is partly due to the fact that
a number of lesser buildings are built around the chokang, so
that one can scarcely see anything of the chokang itself exfcept
the great entrance-gate, which is on the west side, and its
glittering spires, or gyefi, which shoot high above all the
surrounding buildings, rising as points from the rather pic-
ttuesque Chinese type of roof. These spires, or cones, are
made of brass and heavily gilded, but it is said that the prin¬
cipal spire is made of pure gold.

The cathedral, with all its surrounding buildings, some
of which are official structures, and others, particularly at
the east end, private dwellings, constitutes a great square—the
central square, or block of buildings. Running around this
block is the principal street of Lhasa, called the Parkor-ling, or

270 TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

the Inner Circle. The practice of circumambulating, or walking
around, a sacred building, is held in high regard in Tibet as a
method of acquiring merit, and it is the custom for every
pilgrim who comes to Lhasa to make the circuit twice daily,
once in the morning and once in the evening, always, of course,
from left to right.

In addition to being the main thoroughfare of Lhasa, this
Inner Circle is broad enough to permit a number of stalls to be
placed in it, so that it also constitutes the great market-place
of the capital. That part of the avenue which ran before
the house in which I was staying was particularly open and
broad, and had, therefore, developed into the chief centre of
stall-marketing. For this reason the house itself was called
Trom-si-Kang, or the Market-seeing Mansion.

Sonam told me that all the great pageants and processions
invariably went around this Inner Circle, frequently starting
from the place immediately below. I was overjoyed to hear
this, as it meant that I could see everything of importance
which happened without leaving the place where I was
staying.

Sonam and I stayed for some time on the roof—-he pointing
out and explaining the principal points of interest—^but at
length he said that he must go down in order to get into
communication with the Dalai Lama and inform him of my
arrival. This being New Year’s Day for the Tibetans, the
Dalai Lama was holding a great levee, or audience, at the
Potala, attended by the principal officials, so that it was going
to be difficult to get private access to him; but Sonam was
going to arrange that he should be handed a little note giving
him the necessary information.

I followed him downstairs, for I still felt very ill and weak,
and wanted to rest as much as possible, so as to secure a supply
of strength with which to face any new eventuality.

Sonam went out to his office while I returned to the little fiat.
Here I was delighted to find not only that Lhaten had returned,
but also that he had found the syce and “ Diogenes ” and had
brought them home.

They had had a very uncomfortable time. The donkey had
eventually died and, leaving the carcase behind, they had come
on to the city, but were, of course, unable to find any trace of

EXPOSED!

271

us, and had been afraid to make too many mqumes lest it might
awaken suspicion regarding my identity. Having no money
they had been forced to sleep out in the streets, but by begging
they had secured a little food. They were wandering around
the Inner Circle, the centre of Lhasa life, when they were found
by Lhaten.

Once back in my own room I managed to draw the cushions
which formed my bed over to the window which looked out over
the market-place below. In this way I was able to rest and at
the same time observe many interesting aspects of Lhasa life.
Incidentally nearly aU the windows in the Trom-si-Kang were
provided with glass panes which had been brought from India.
This was rather unusual even for Lhasa, for in most cases cloth
with rather wide meshes, or occasionally glazed paper, is nailed
to the window-frame. In such cases there is usually a wooden
shutter behind, which could be closed at night and so keep out
the cold.

The whole morning the market-place was full of revellers of
both sexes and from every part of Tibet. These were singing,
shouting, and dancing. The dancing interested me particu¬
larly, as it was unlike anything I had seen before. Three or four
women would gather and form a circle. Each woman had in
her hand a leather strap strung with little bells, such as are
hung on the necks of ponies in Tibet when a noble rides forth.
The women would then begin to sing and stamp their feet
rh5rthmically, at the same time jangling the bells which they
held in their hands. Gradually numbers of men—strangers—
would gather around, join in the song, and stamp their feet in
the same rhythmic fashion. Verse after verse would be sung,
and the stamping would go on for many minutes until the
singers were out of breath or one of the women, weary and
jostled from behind, would fall down. Then the party would
break: up, only however, in most cases, to form again a few yards
farther to the right, once breath and voice had been recovered.
It was obvious that these parties were gradually making their
way around the Inner Circle—^performing the prescribed
circumambulation of the cathedral square. It was quaint to
see them performing this holy rite in such an exceedingly jovial
fashion.

Many of the revellers, grown men as well as children, amused

272

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

themselves by firing off squibs, or fire-crackers, some of them
tiny things and some of gigantic proportions.

The shortness of the previous night’s repose made me feel
very sleepy, and I was just dozing off when the whole house
was shaken by a tremendous explosion, which brought me to
my feet in an instant. As this took place after Sonam had
gone forth to announce my arrival, I thought at first that a
bomb had been placed underneath my window, but on looking
forth I saw that by accident the whole fireworks-stall had
exploded, stunning everyone in the vicinity. Four persons were
were Idlled and five more were seriously injured.

A large crowd gathered around the heap of victims. (In
this respect the world is the same all the world over.) But no
one seemed inclined to lend a helping hand, and everyone was
left to look after himself. This meant that the dead and
seriously wounded were let lay on the ground for really an
extraordinary time, until friends or relatives could learn of the
mishap and come and drag the bodies of the victims away.

There was, of course, no hospital ambulance—^for there is
neither ambulance nor hospital in Lhasa, nor is there any kind
of provision for first-aid to the injured. When the victims
were eventually taken away, they were carried back to then-
own homes, and some monk—^possibly, but not necessarily,
a monk from the Medical College—^was invited in to perform
his ritual either for the recovery of the patient, or, if he
were dead, for the safe passage of his soul into a favourable
reincarnation.

Even more surprising was the lack of policemen in Lhasa,
or of other officials to take their place. This is one of the chief
reasons for the lawlessness of the <fity. Most of the city
officials were out on holiday, but eventually a woebegone
looking person, wearing official dress and armed -with a whip,
arrived on the scene and ordered some scavengers to clear up
the debris.

Fire-crackers are much enjoyed by the Tibetan peasants.
They were probably brought to Tibet from China, but owing to
the faulty method of manufacture, such accidents, I was told,
are by no means infrequent, and the Dalai Lama is trying to
abolish the sale and use of all such articles. But it is obvious
that illicit dealing in Tibet has been brought to a fine art, for

EXPOSED!

273

I had seen the squibs sold in the open market-place. The
story was, however, destined to have an interesting sequel.

Apart from illicit sale, fire-crackers are still officially recog¬
nized and used in one connection. Every night at half-past
eight curfew is sounded in Lhasa, but not by means of a curfew
bell. Instead, a giant squib is let off at each one of the four
comers of the Inner Circle, as a warning that thereafter every¬
one should stay indoors.

The curfew law is largely meant as a protection for innocent
and respectable persons. There is no attempt made to illumi¬
nate the dark, winding streets of Lhasa, which are full of men
who are beggars by day and highwaymen at night, and the
Government finds it cheaper to order the people to stay indoors
at night than to install illumination or to organize a proper
police force.

The excitement created by the explosion had hardly died
down before Sonam returned. He told me that he had
managed to have a note, announcing my arrival, handed to
the Dalai Lama in the midst of his audience, but that at the
time the Dalai Lama had merely read it, and had said nothing
to anyone around him regarding the matter; he had exhibited
no symptoms of either siurprise, anger, or excitement, but this
was only to be expected from an experienced Oriental potentate.

Further developments were bound to come in due course,
and there was now nothing for me to do except passively await
them.

CHAPTER XXII

THE STRONG MAN OF TIBET

It was certainly very trying to be compelled to remain in
idleness while one’s whole destiny was being decided by the
whim of other people. About two o’clock, however, two
messengers arrived from Tsarong Shap 4 , the Commander-in-
Chief of the Army and senior Secretary of State, with orders
that I come and pay him a secret visit.

Tsarong is the personal friend and favourite minister of the
Dalai Lama, and it seems that shortly after receiving Sonam’s
note, the Dalai Lama had spoken briefly to Tsarong, telling
him to see me secretly and find out what sort of a person I was.
It was in accordance with these instructions that Tsarong sent
for me as soon as he returned from the Potala to his private
palace.

As this was a first, and therefore important, interview, from
the point of view of creating a good impression, I thought it
better to attempt to win favour by putting on the lama or
priest robes I had been given by the temple in Darjeeling, and
which I was entitled to wear, but I was careful to wrap my
head up in one of the thick Tibetan shawls so that people
should not see too much of my face as I passed through the
streets.

Attended by all of my servants (such is etiquette in Tibet,
where a gentleman will never think of paying a formal call
without being attended by at least two or three servants), and
following the messengers whom Tsarong had sent, I set out for
this high official’s palace.

Tsarong’s residence was really quite near Sonam’s house,
lying but just beyond the great central block of buildings
formed by the cathedral and its satellite edifices. This meant

274

THE STRONG MAN OF TIBET

275

we had to go along the Inner Circle, the great market roadway
which runs around this group of buildings. Along this road
we passed in the prescribed left-to-right fashion, always keeping
the central group of buildings on our right. At the two eastern
comers of the Inner Circle I noticed two gigantic wooden poles,
glorified ma5^oles in appearance, with a few prayer-tufts
fluttering at the top of each. This eastern end of the central
square was largely occupied by the shops of Kashmir and
Nepalese merchants. Many of these were closed in honour of
the New Year, and those which were open had most of their
wares displayed on little stalls outside the houses, rather than
placed on counters inside the houses. Eventually we came
to the south side of the central square and arrived at Tsarong’s
palace, the entrance to which was, however, not on the Inner
Circle, but from a narrow side-street.

Tsarong’s palace followed the usual lines of Tibetan archi¬
tecture. It was three stories high and built principally of
stone, but the outer walls were of no great importance, having
no windows on the ground floor, and only small windows on
the floors above. Obviously the life of the palace was centred
around the courtyard or quadrangle, entered by a gateway
which at night was closed by a huge wooden door heavily
barred. The courtyard was roughly paved, but muddy and
heaped with odds and ends, though much neater than most
Tibetan courtyards. All around the base under the first
balcony were the stalls for Tsarong's horses and mules, a
goodly number, some still standing richly saddled. The house
was built up around all sides of the courtyard, but the rather
imposing mass of the main residential wing rose up immediately
before us. Crossing over the courtyard, we entered this wing
by a small and insignificant door lying to on^ide. In the
gloom I could just distinguish the precipitous ladder which
led up to the floor above. This ladder, with its round,
slippery iron-sheathed rungs and polished willow handrail,
was the only means of ascent.

Once arrived up on the first floor, I saw to one side a small
waiting-room where ordinary visitors are kept until they can be
interviewed by one of the secretaries; but as soon as I arrived
one such secretary official stepped out and led me to the chief
formal reception-room, which overlooked the courtyard.

276 TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

This was also the palace chapel: in Tibet it is always wise
to show one’s religiosity to visitors. The whole of one side of
the room was occupied by huge gilded images, with burning
butter-lamps and offering-bowls in front of them. The other
side of the room was filled by a built-in dais covered by thick
woollen mattress cushions which served as chairs. On either
side of the altar proper were pigeon-holes for books—^religious
books, of course—^which were meant for adoration and not for
reading. Violent colours covered every inch of wall space—
vivid greens and blues, scarlet and gold, the latter two colours
predominating; but the general effect, aided by the gloom, was
not entirely disharmonious.

I was seated on the great dais, and tea was immediately
brought in and offered to me, but there then followed consider¬
able delay. My servants were kept in the passage outside, and
I heard a good deal of whispering going on.

Eventually a lady stepped in accompanied by a secretary.
The lady I found to be Tsarong’s wife, or, to be more exact, one
of his two wives. She told me that Tsarong was ill. The
ceremonies at the Potala in the morning had commenced before
five o’clock, and in the morning cold he had contracted a severe
rhin sT td was suffering from high fever. He had now fallen
asleep and his servants were afraid to wake him.

I told the good lady I was quite prepared to wait, and that
His Excellency was certainly not to be disturbed on my account.
I was much interested to notice that the lady of the house had
come in person. Amongst the Mohammedans to the east and
north, and in India and China, the upper-class women we
forced to lead a very retired life, and are kept to a speciM wing
of the house and never come into contact with male visitors,
even when the husband is present. Here in Lhasa, on the other
hand, in good Occidental fashion, the lady of the house sat
down and by conversation sought to lessen the tedium of my
wait.

I was sorry that our talk was cut short, for it would have been
interesting to get the viewpoint of a Lhasa woman of high rank,
but a servant came into announce that His Excellency was at
last awake and would see me immediately.

I was then led upstairs to the second floor, to a private room
very prettily decorated, where I found Tsarong lying on a dais.

THE STRONG MAN OF TIBET

377

Unlike most Tibetan houses, this room contained a table and
several chairs of Chinese design, and on one of these chairs I was
seated.

One is always supposed to give rich presents when visiting
a powerful official in Tibet. It is, of course, bribery, but
the thing is carried on very openly. I had no presents to
give; I had only the ceremonial silk scarf, which one
always presents in Tibet when making any sort of a formal
visit. Tsarong greeted me very kindly and excused himself
for not getting up.

He was a squat little man, inclined to fleshiness, and there
was nothing very imposing in his presence. Nevertheless, he
is the possessor of a very unusual personality, and is the
one really great man of Tibet. In my opinion he is destined to
play in his own country the same role that Bismarck played in
Germany and Ito in Japan, though, of course, he has to work
with infinitely inferior material. Incidentally he is, in Tibet,
the solitary instance of a self-made man.

Although the Tibetans have no caste system, practically all
the major offices of State, apart from the posts of incarnate
abbots, such as that held by the Dalai Lama, are occupied by
members of the great aristocratic families. Tsarong belongs
to none of these. In fact, his father ranked below an ordinary
peasant, being a bow-and-arrow maker. This is an occupation
much despised by the Tibetans; indeed, such a man is practi¬
cally an outcast. The name of Tsarong and the title of shapi are
both acquired. As a boy he was known as Namgang. A
spirited, reckless lad, his early escapades made Lhasa “ too hot ”
to hold him and at the age of fourteen he had to flee to Mongolia,
where he became a roving adventurer. His chance in life came
a few years later, when the Dalai Lama was forced to seek
refuge in the same country—Mongolia—^ia 1904, at the time
that the Younghusband Expedition marched into Tibet. The
temper of His Holiness at that time was such that he found it
difficult to obtain or keep any servants. Consequently he was
glad to accept Namgang as a personal attendant. The loyalty
and the intelligence of the new servant soon attracted attention,
and the young fellow was advanced into favour. As a speci^i
•mark of esteem he was raised from a position corresponding to
that of a private soldier and given a conunission. On the

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

278

return of the Dalai Lama to Tibet, in 1908, Namgang was
created a captain.

His greatest opportunity arrived with the Chinese invasion
of Tibet in 1909-10. The Dalai Lama fled—this time to India
—and the Chinese sent a pursuing army after him. Namgang,
by his magnificent defence of Chushul, kept the Chinese back
long enough to allow the Dalai Lama to escape into British
territory. Namgang then attempted to follow him, but his
retreat was cut off.

Eventually he managed to get through the Chinese lines by
dressing himself up as a courier of the Indian Government
carr5dng British mail from Yatung into Sikkim. In this way
the young officer was able to rejoin his leader in Darjeeling.
Incidentally, Tsarong took my arrival in Lhasa as a huge joke,
for he reminded me that while I had got from India to Tibet in
disguise, he had been able to accomplish the same feat in an
opposite direction. In 1911, the outbreak of the revolution in
China weakened the moral of the Chinese soldiers stationed in
Tibet. Namgang took this opportunity to restore the Dalai
Lama to power. He entered Tibet secretly, raised peasant
revolts against the Chinese garrisons, and in the end forced
them all to surrender. At the same time the old Tibetan
officials, who had been in friendly relation with the Chinese,
were either banished or killed. Among those who met the
latter fate was a shafS, or secretary of State, called Tsarong.
He and his son were hacked to pieces in the streets of Lhasa by
a party of fighting monks. The Dalai Lama returned to Lhasa
in triumph. As a reward for his servides Namgang was made
a shapi, and at the same time created Commander-in-Chief of
the Army and Master of the Mint. The old Tsarong having
left no heirs, Namgang was presented with the Tsarong estate.
Hereafter he assumed the title of Tsarong Shapd. To make
possession doubly sure, Namgang married both the daughter
and the daughter-in-law of the original Tsarong Shapd. The
latter was the widow of the murdered son. Tsarong, therefore,
is one of the few people in Tibet who openly practises polygamy.

Tsarong has retained his personal popularity with the Dalai
Lama, and is now the most powerful man in the country. He
is very modem in his ideas, and wishes to see the same awaken¬
ing in Tibet as has taken place in Japan. Acting under his

THE STRONG MAN OF TIBET

279

advice, the Dalai Lama has instituted many reforms, which
have had an enormously beneficial effect upon the country.
Needless to say, these reforms have met with vigorous opposi¬
tion on the part of the monks, and among the priestly party
Tsarong inspires only fear and hatred. Numerous attempts
have been made to assassinate him, and he is forced always to
keep a strong guard about his person.

During this first interview, after we had conversed for some
time on general matters, we turned to my own affairs. Tsarong,
I knew, had been actively in favour of permitting our whole
party to come to Lhasa from the first, and privately he was
pleased that I had been able to carry through the secret
enterprise. He told me, moreover, that the Dalai Lama was
not entirely antipathetic. Nevertheless, as the Tibetan
Government, acting under pressure from the monks, had
refused me permission to come, and I had arrived in disguise,
it was necessary for me to undergo certain formalities. He
advised me to make official notification of my arrival to the
city magistrates the next day. These officials would report
the matter to the Kashak, or Cabinet of Ministers, consisting
of a Lbnchen, or Prime Minister, and four shapis, or secretaries
of State. This body would consider what steps should be
taken in regard to me. Tsarong, of course, is a member of
this Cabinet, and promised to put in a good word for me when
the matter should come before it ofl&cially.

Whatever the decision of the other members might be, he
promised definitely, on his own responsibility, that I should
receive personal protection. He suggested that I should, in
my report to the authorities, expressly omit the names of the
rest-houses in which I had stayed and the people with whom
I had travelled. Otherwise the Government, or the clamour
of the populace, might force him to take some active steps
against me. From this I could see how powerless, in the face
of fanaticism, even Tibet’s greatest man could be. We parted
with every sign of cordiality on both sides.

I had spent nearly three hours with Tsarong, and it was
nearly dusk when I came out of his palace.

We had now to return to our residence in the Trom-si-Kang,
but we did not go back the way we had come; to have dctae
so would be to go in the wrong direction, from right to left.

28 o

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

keeping the cathedral on our left, and so we completed our
circuit of the Inner Circle, going along the south side to the
western end.

After a short time the road once more broadened out, leaving
a wide open space. This was of great interest to me, as on
the northern side of the space adjoining the main cathedral
building was a curious sort of platform, rather elaborately
decorated. This, I found, was the Lhasa pulpit, the only
pulpit I ever saw in Tibet.

Preaching plays no part in Tibetan religion. The peasants
are quite willing to pay money to the priests to perform
ceremonies for them. This propitiates the gods and demons—
why, therefore, should one be forced to listen to sermons ?
The monks, on the other hand, see no reason why religious
secrets should be delivered to the masses, and so pulpits and
preaching are alien to the religious system of Tibet—except
for this one pulpit. This is used only by the Dalai Lama, who
once a year, in the character of high-priest of his people,
delivers a short discourse to the Lhasa community, which
packs itself in the open space around.

This annual sermon is a very quaint custom, and I was very
anxious to learn something of its origin, but I found no one
who could tell me.

We now came to the western end of the central block of
buildings. At the south-western comer I could see the
Kashak buildings, really a wing of the cathedral, but very
important, as inside this building was the Central Government
of the country, with the offices of the Prime Minister, or
Lonchen, the four shapis, or secretaries of State, and the
Tsongdu, or National Assembly.

A little beyond this, almost in the centre of the western side
of the central square, was the main entrance of the cho-kang,
or cathedral, a huge and ornate gateway hung vidth black
curtains. This gateway was set slightly back, and in the open
space in front I could see hundreds of persons prostrating
themselves in adoration of the divinities who were housed
within.

In the middle of the street, facing the cathedral, were two
ititeresting stone tablets or monuments. One is comparatively
modern, being built at the time of Chinese influence, and is

THE STRONG MAN OF TIBET

281

called the smallpox monument, as on its sides are inscribed
an edict dealing with the quarantine regulations for smallpox,
the most common disease in Tibet. Curiously enough, this
has been defaced by a number of cuplike depressions resembling
the pock-marks of the disease with which it deals.

The other monument, surrounded by a high wall of stone,
is a tall edict monolith, inscribed with the terms of a treaty of
peace between China and Tibet executed in 783 between
Repachen, King of Tibet, and the Emperor of China. At this
time Tibet was a warlike, independent country, ruled over not
by monks but by a secular king, and the treaty marked the
end of a war in which the Tibetans had been successful over
the Chinese. One side of this monument was overshadowed
by an ancient willow, which is considered by the Tibetans as
thrice holy in that it sprang from a hair of the Buddha which
was brought and planted there.

Continuing on our way we eventually came to the northern
side of the square, and turning to the right we passed along it
till we came to a large shrine, or chorten, supported on four
piUars, so that one could pass under and through it. Just
beyond the chorten was the Trom-si-Kang—our own home,
to which we were glad to return.

The day had been so full of thrills that I felt very tired and
before long was asleep.

The next morning I learnt from Sonam that the city magis¬
trates, who are joint mayors and judges of Lhasa, had their
headquarters in the City Hall or Palace of Justice, a building
almost immediately opposite my window. Just in front of
this building I noticed two ringed stones fastened in the ground
several feet apart. I wondered what these could be used for.
I was soon to find out. I saw a side-door opened. A woman
was dragged out by several petty officials. She was stripped of
every stitch of clothing and thrown on the ground. Her arms
were tied to one stone ring and her feet to the other. Two men
then appeared with whips and began to flog her, giving her 150
lashes in all. The lash cut into her flesh, causing huge weltering
wounds. At first she screamed in her agony, but later fainted
away. Water was thrown over her to revive consciousness,
and then the grisly work began again. I was anxious to find
out what crime the woman had committed to merit this

282

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

punishment, and was informed that she was the vendor of
the fireworks and squibs which by their explosion had caused
so much damage the preceding day. When the sentence had
been administered she was too weak to stand and had to be
carried inside the building, where, I was told, she was flung down
and left to recover by herself. I looked at the grim building
and thought with a shudder of the ordeal I should have to
undergo before the magistrates. Nevertheless, later in the day
I sent “ Satan ” and Lhaten to them to announce my arrival
in the city and to request that they forward the information
to the ministers of State.

My servants returned and told me that the information
seemed to have caused quite a good deal of excitement, which
showed that the news of my arrival had been kept very secret.
The magistrates had stated that the matter was so important
that they could take no further action until they had consulted
the higher authorities.

I knew that this would take another day or two, and so settled
down to inactivity for the rest of the day. For some time I
amused myself by watching the crowd outside. New Year
celebrations were in full swing, and the number of revellers as
numerous as on the preceding day, but there was not quite so
much drunkenness and rowdiness.

In addition to the bell-dancers, I noticed a mimber of children
playing in the market-place—many of them, boys and girls
both, were skipping, the skipping-ropes being either of wool or
of leather. Many women were out with their babies. Most of
them carried the babies on their backs in Japanese fashion, and
not on their hips, as do so many peoples, or in their arms.

The chorten, or shrine, which lay a few yards away seemed a
special object of attraction for the women. Many of them came
with little prayer-cloths, which they attached to the shrine i
while others burned small quantities of brush in the adjoining
sacrificial um.

Burnt-offerings of some sort play a part in all primitive
religions. In Lhasa there is an even more striking instance of
this; some two miles to the south-west of the city, on the very
summit of a precipitous hill, is a gigantic urn in which very
smoky incense is burned every day. It takes several hours to
climb this hill, so that the wealthier devotees prefer to pay

THE STRONG MAN OF TIBET 283

various coolies to carry the incense up for them ; but the merit
acquired by the act belongs to the donor and not to the poor
coolie.

The afternoon of this day was marked by a very important
event—^the taking of a bath—^the first bath I had been able to
take since leaving Darjeeling, and the first time I had been able
to wash my hands since entering Tibet.

Even then, to get this bath was quite a feat. Sonam had no
bath-tub, nor was there anything like a tub anywhere in the
whole house, but eventually it was discovered that one of the
Nepalese a few doors away had a tin tub used for washing
clothes, and eventually he was persuaded to lend it to me for
the occasion.

It took some time to heat the necessary amount of water
in the ordinary teapots and then pour it into the tub, but at
last everything was ready—^when, to my horror, I discovered
that after all I did not want to take a bath I Cleanliness and
dirtiness are largely a question of habit, and perhaps of climate.
At first the steadily-increasing layer of dirt had been a misery,
but now, with the Tibetans, I had come to regard it as a secure
protection.

I did not, however, dare go back on the proposition after all
the elaborate preparations, and so I scrubbed myself to a
resemblance of cleanliness, though I knew that with my accumu¬
lation of filth I should have to get properly clean on the instal¬
ment plan.

Sonam and his family regarded my bath as a huge joke—
and in one respect the joke really was on me, for thereafter I
did suffer more acutely from two things—lice and cold.

The lice had been there aB the time—ever since Kampa Dzong
—but for some reason the dirt and grease had made it so that I
could not feel them, but now I became acutely conscious of their
presence, and set out to make war against them. But it was
a battle of a million to one—and the million were successful.

The cold I had counted on, and counteracted this by putting
on more clothes. Even in Lhasa this is the one way of keeping
warm. Lhasa, in common with the rest of Tibet, knows no
other fuel than dried dung (the better classes here use yak-
dung, the poorer classes horse- and mule-dung); this bums up
too quickly to use as fuel for anything except cooking, so when

284 TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

the temperature drops the Tibetan merely dons an additional
suit of clothes.

The water for the bath, and for all other purposes, came from
a well hi the courtyard—^the conception of running water is
entirely alien to Tibet. Every day the servants would go down
to draw the necessary supply.

Unlike most parts of Tibet, Lhasa suffers from no lack of
water. The whole of the Lhasa Plain is very marshy, and at
no point does one have to go lower than four or five feet to
strike water. For this reason the Tibetans believe that the
Sacred City is built over a great lake, which would rise and
engulf the whole city were it not for the magic power of their
god-king.

The shallowness of the well made the water very dangerous.
Great manure and refuse heaps lay all around it—the courtyard
privy being only a few feet away—so that anyone interested in
germs should have a life’s work in studying the contents of the
water, but everyone drank only tea—and prayed to the gods,
and so survived.

The courtyard was also the community slop-basin—every¬
thing left over, liquid or solid, was dumped into it.

The next day brought one further development. Early in
the morning two ofiacials sent by the city magistrates arrived
to announce that a formal inquiry would be held in a few days’
time, and begged me to remain within doors and to keep the
fact of my arrival secret until then. They were afraid that the
Lhasa rabble, always excited to fever pitch about New Year’s
time, might storm the place and tear me to pieces if they knew
that I had come into the Sacred City in spite of aU precautions
intended to keep me out. They apologetically added that at
all ordinary times the magistrates had control over the city
and could guarantee my safety; but that at the present
moment the place was so fuE of turbulent monks that they
frequently found it impossible to keep order. The position
was further complicated by the fact that for twenty-one days,
beginning with the next afternoon, the city government would
be handed over to two monks appointed by the Drepung
Monastery. This is an annual custom, and durir^ this period
even the Dalai Lama and his Cabinet would have no control over
the metropolis, and any disorder would have to be curbed by

THE STRONG MAN OF TIBET

285

the two temporary ecclesiastical mayors. These were known
to be bitterly anti-foreign, and would have little interest in
protecting me from popular attack. I thanked the officials
for t elling me aU this, and promised not to go about openly, but
reserved to myself the right to wander about the streets after
dusk or in disguise.

Cooped up as I was, the rest of the day promised to be very
tedious, but things livened up very considerably when later on
an official named Kyipup paid me a visit.

Kyipup’s interest lay in the fact that he is one of the two
Tibetans living who had been to England. Although Tibetans
have such a fanatical objection against allowing any foreigner
to enter their own land, there seems to be no feeling against a
Tibetan who goes outside of his own country, even when he
returns. For this reason several Tibetans have wandered into
Mongolia and China, chiefly bent on trade, and in recent years
more and more people have found their way down to India
in order to buy and sell in the Kalimpong market, and also
others bent on pilgrimage to the sacred places of Buddhism
which are to be found in India, for though Buddhism has long
since died out in India, India was, of course, the land of its
origin. Here the historic Buddha was born, here he retired from
the world to lead the ascetic life, here he attained complete
enlightenment, preached the first of a long series of discourses,
and here at length he died. In Tibet the historic Buddha has
been overshadowed by mythological divinities, but the Tibetan
still regards it as an act of great piety to go to the places in
India made holy by the presence of the human founder of his
religion, so that even in Lhasa persons who have been to India
and know something of conditions there are not uncommon.

But in the ordmary course of events nothing would have
brought a Tibetan to Europe. When the Younghusband
Expedition was in Tibet in 1904, it was thought wise to
get hold of two or three youngsters of aristocratic families
and send them to England to be educated at the Indian
Government’s expense. Some difficulty was found in securing
such boys, as the better-dass families were loath to entrust
their offspring to the tender mercies of the “ foreign devils,”
but subsequently three scions of the lesser nobility were obtained
with which to try the experiment.

286

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

One of them, reputed to be the most promising, died before
the success of the idea could be judged, but the other two, after
spending several years in England, are now back in their
native land.

One of them, Kyipup, who had come to see me, had been
given a general education at Rugby, while the other, Mondron,
was sent to a mining college in Cornwall, where he learned
something of prospecting and mining engineering.

Both boys picked up English very quickly—in fact, they
soon forgot most of their Tibetan, and had to write to their
parents in English, so the outraged families had to call in a
native interpreter before they could get any idea of how their
sons were faring. Kyipup was reported to be very good-
hearted and honest, but stupid, while Mondron made good
progress in his studies, but picked up a reputation for Oriental
wiliness. Nevertheless, both boys adapted themselves to
English life, and there was a good deal of interest around as to
how they would fare on their return to their native land.

On the whole the experiment seems to have been a failure.
They were considered denaturalized by their fellow-country¬
men, and instead of being promoted to higher positions, they
have lagged around the bottom of the official ladder. This is
rather remarkable considering the recent efforts which the
Dalai Lama, backed by Tsarong Shap6. has made to reorganize
his government on a modern basis. Kyipup has been made
an official in the new Post-Office, while Mondron was given an
opportunity to use his talents and find gold. When he failed
to bring forth huge quantities of the precious metal, the upper
officials decided that the fault must be not in the real absence
of gold, but in the young prospector, and so promptly dismissed
him.

Kyipup is quite content to spend an easy-going and care-free
existence in the Post-Office, so long as he can smoke vast
quantities of cigarettes in secret, but Mondron, more ambitious,
and realizing that the line of promotion lies in the Church, has
become a monk, though, of course, going on with his official
work.

It may be that part of the unofficial disfavour with which
they are regarded is due to a dramatic episode which took
place shortly after their return. Fired with youthful enthu-

THE STRONG MAN OF TIBET 287

siasm, they brought back with them a motor-cycle. The
Dalai Lama, wishing to know more of the " devil machine,”
ordered a demonstration to be made on the plain outside of
Lhasa. The motor-cycle was duly started, but the tremendous
noise that it made so startled the mules on which the Dalai
Lama and his escort were riding that they ran away, and
very nearly caused the incarnate deity of Tibet to have a
bad faU.

In an attempt to avoid high wrath for this misfortune, the
motor-cycle was immediately presented as a gift to His Holiness.
Since then it has lain unused in a comer of the palace.

The difference in the character of the two boys was well
illustrated by their attitude towards me. The naive Kyipup
came to pay me a visit and talk over old times in England. I
found he remembered his English very well. Mondron, how¬
ever, knowing that I was a persona non grata to the Government,
carefully stayed away. He was already suspect with the
fanatical monks by his previous contact with the West, and did
not wish to get himself into further hot water by having it
known that he had consorted with the “ foreign devil ” who had
come to Lhasa in disguise.

The next day the two monks from the Drepung Monastery
who were to act as rulers of the city for the next three weeks
made their official entry into the city at about ten o’clock in the
morning. In honour of their arrival the whole of the street
round the central square, which I have called the Inner Circle,
was strewn with sand so that the new Lords of Misrule would
not have to walk on ground polluted by common feet.

Attended by a number of fighting monks from Drepung, who
acted as a bodyguard, they came in solemn procession and made
a formal tour round the Inner Circle. The advance-guard
called out from time to time warning the populace to make way
for the new rulers, while others, armed with long wooden staves,
struck out at the mob as they passed by.

After the procession had gone round the central square it
returned to the open space underneath my window, halting just
before the Palace of Justice. The officials of the Palace of
Justice, who at ordinary times have charge of the city, then
came out of the building, and with all their attendants knelt
down in the sand in token of deep humility.

288

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

The two new Lords of Misrule now proceeded, one at a time, to
to give a long harangue. This was delivered in a curious chant¬
ing tone while the speaker moved in a slow, curious dancing
gait. Both of the new rulers carried singular square black
poles, wonderfully carved and decorated, attached to their
hands by silk cords. One of them, I noticed, had an
excellently-trimmed moustache and beard.

The temporary mayors, in the course of their harangue,
informed the officials that though they, the civilians, might
remain ostensibly in power, yet for the next three weeks all
ultimate power was to be in the hands of the monks, and that
even the Cabinet and the Dalai Lama were subject to their
jurisdiction.

This, of course, was true. In times past punishments have
actually been inflicted upon the Dalai Lama himself, for some
trifling misdemeanour, by the two Drepung monks during their
brief tenure of office.

These two ruling monks, let it be noted, are not the abbots
or high-priests of Drepung, nor any of its leading professors or
scholars, but monks of no particularly high ecclesiastical rank
who act as censors or deans of the monastic community.

Their appointment to the rulership of the city is due to the
fact that during their period of office all the monks from the
surrounding monasteries crowd into the city to join in the New
Year festivities, and so the monks greatly outnumber the civi¬
lian population, and the ordinary civil officials find it impossible
to keep order over the ecclesiastical bravados. At the end of
the three weeks, when the monks leave Lhasa and return to
their monasteries, the power of these two temporary rulers
automatically lapses, but it is renewed again for a further
period of ten days beginning on the twenty-second day of the
second month of the Tibetan calendar, when the monks once
more crowd into the city.

Although the visiting monks come from all the surrounding
monasteries, the two Lords of Misrule are invariably representa¬
tives of Drepung. This is a privilege very jealously guarded by
this great monastery.

It is said to be a privilege granted to Drepung by the fifth
and greatest of the Dalai Lamas. It was this man who made
the Dalai Lamas the temporal rulers of the whole country.

THE STRONG MAN OF TIBET

289

He granted this right to Drepung in recognition of the great
service which the monastery had rendered in establishing his
universal authority.

Since that time this annual custom has proved very vexatious
to subsequent Dalai Lamas, and very substantially diminished
their authority.

The present ruler, unusually keen and ambitious, has been
very aggressive in asserting his rights and in curbing the
authority of the usurpers. He has more than once hinted to
the monks that a privilege which one Dalai Lama gave another
Dalai Lama could take away. This statement was particu¬
larly pointed because, according to Tibetan belief, the present
Dalai Lama is a reincarnation of his predecessors, including the
fifth Dalai Lama.

The present ruler would undoubtedly like to carry out his
threat and abolish the New Year regentship, but dares not do
so owing to the great outcry which would follow, so he is wisely
trying the better plan of gradually reducing the powers of
the two Lords of Festivities to a shadow, having it as a
part of the New Year pageantry—^but he has still a long way
to go.

After the harangue had finished the new rulers departed to
their official residence and the procession broke up, but I
noticed that from this time on every priest in Lhasa assumed a
much more arrogant tone, and jostled out of the way any civilian
whom he might meet. As a result of this new bravado a fight
broke out in another flat in the same house in which I was
living. Thirteen monks were having a banquet together, and
subsequently drifted into a theological argument. Evidently
they must have differed on some detail, for they came to
blows, and out of the original thirteen only eight survived.
The other five were found murdered in the morning. This
case was the first to occupy the attention of the new
mayors.

The whole of the morning of the next day was taken up by
another great procession in honour of the new officials.

This was reaUy an historical pageant. Some of the members
were on foot, while others were on horseback. All the partici¬
pators were dressed in ornate silk costumes iUustrating different
important epochs in the country’s past. Many were mere

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

290

youngsters who wore masks representing various historical
personages.

As usual, the procession passed round and round the city
several times, so that from my window I got an excellent view of
the whole affair; but the most important event of the day, so
far as I was concerned, was the second visit I was able to pay
Tsarong Shape this afternoon. Officially, of course, he was not
yet aware of my arrival, so the whole affair had to be carried on
very secretly. I found that he had now quite recovered from
his recent indisposition and was in excellent spirits, though he
warned me that I should have to look out for squalls in the
near future, as some members of the Kashak were greatly
angered at my arrival and had insisted upon an official,
though secret, inquiry into the matter. In this connection
he suggested one or two things I should stress when the
inquiry came.

He once more promised that he would do all that he could for
me behind the scenes, and apologized for the fact that he was
forced to act indirectly, but he said the monks were already
extremely angry with him for the large number of European
reforms that he had introduced, and were he to stand openly
as my sponsor, it would be used as a means of stirring up
wrath against himself and the modernist tendency of the
Government.

I could not but wonder at the wrath of some of the reaction¬
aries against Tsarong when I saw how very European he was
in some of his ways. As Commander-in-Chief of the Army he
had seen the cumbersomeness of the native dress for the soldiers,
and he had arranged for all his officers and men to be dressed
in a style almost identical with that of the British Army.

He himself was dressed then, as always, in uniform, preferring
that to the dress of a shapi, to which he was of course entitled.
He confessed, however, that though they looked incongruous
with European uniform, there were two articles of Tibetan
dress he could not bring himself to discard. One was the huge
turquoise ear-ring which Tibetan gentlemen wear in their left
ear. The other was the Tibetan top-knot, or the fashion of
twisting the hair of the head into a curious little knot on the
top of the head, through which was thrust a little jewelled
ornament indicating the rank of the wearer.

THE STRONG MAN OF TIBET

291

The wearing of this top-knot is confined to the higher
officials, from the fourth rank upwards. Remembering
Tsarong’s rise from the lowest class, it was humorous to note
that he could not refrain from the use of the badge of the old
privileged nobility into whose ranks he had only recently
climbed. But certainly, if anyone deserves this or any other
token of rank, it is Tsarong.

The little room in which I was received this time was fixed
up in a European style, and the Httle dinner to which Tsarong
insisted that I stay contained several semi-European dishes,
the materials for which he imports at enormous expense from
India. For drink we had two mixtures—one ginger-wine and
brandy, the other crhme de menthe and whisky—certainly the
recipe for the latter must have originated in his own fertile
head. Most surprising of all, he hauled out after dinner a
huge English pipe, which he filled with strong shag and
smoked. Considering the great prejudice against tobacco,
this was remarkable, but even Tsarong dares not smoke in
public.

Another of Tsarong’s secret hobbies is amateur photography.
He has secured a photographic outfit and has taken some
excellent snapshots. The only people who object to being
photographed are the monks, who, as usual, are fanatical upon
the subject.

I noticed on the wall of the room a photograph of Tsarong
and his two wives, taken by one of his underlings. I was
interested to note how open he was about his bigamy, and that
the two wives seemed to be on very friendly terms with one
another, but I noticed that he was wise enough to have one
wife living in one palace and the other in another.

Apart from his country estates in the Takpo Valley and
elsewhere, Tsarong has three mansions in the neighbourhood
of Lhasa: two a mile or two outside the city, and one city
palace, in which I now was.

To my surprise, I found that he was building a new city
palace only a few hundred yards away from his present
establishment. I later found that the real reason for this was
that he believes the present palace to be haunted by the old
murdered Tsarong and his son, whose estates and womenfolk
the present man has inherited. Tsarong has had several

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

292

children who died in infancy, and there is left to him only one
sickly little boy. Medical science would account for this in
another way, but even the modem and progressive Tsarong
believes that these calamities are due to the ghosts of his
predecessors who are thirsting for revenge, and he believes
that in a new building the shades of the dead will be powerless.

We had a long and interesting talk that afternoon, and as
no one else—^not even a servant—^was within hearing, he spoke
quite freely.

Tsarong claims to be, and no doubt is, a very devout
Buddhist. He had prayers said for his recovery and even has
a learned old gesM, or doctor of (Buddhist) divinity, come
in to talk points of metaphysics with him, but he has no
illusions as to the nature and value of the average Tibetan
monk.

He claims, and quite rightly, that there are far too many
inhabitants of the monasteries. This suiplus number weakens,
he says, the economic structure of the country, and, even from
the religious point of view, it is impossible for so many people
to be really fitted for the monastic life, consequently he is
doing what he can to limit the number of entrants to the
priesthood and place it on a more competitive basis.

Tsarong is anxious to open up Tibet to foreigners, believing
the country is now strong enough to maintain its independence
in spite of their presence; but this I doubt. In any case, in
spite of his influence, there seems to be little chance that he
will have his way on this point.

Tsarong displayed a keen interest in European politics, and
to my surprise manifested a fairly accurate knowledge of the
general trend of affairs. He stated that the Bolshevik revolu¬
tion completely destroyed any sympathy which the Tibetan
Government might have had for Russia. He quaintly added,
“ It would have been aU right if the Russians had deposed
their ruler—^but to kill him was another matter." Considering
how bloodstained Tsarong’s own picturesque career was, I
rather marvelled at this opinion, but obviously the killing of
a ruler and the killing of a subject were two different things.

Realizing how European Tsarong is in so many ways, and
the fact that he had spent many months in India, I was
surprised to find that he speaks neither Hindustani nor English.

THE STRONG MAN OF TIBET

293

At present he is trying to pick up a little English from Sonam’s
brother, who has studied in Kalimpong, but lessons are still
in the elementary state and we had to converse entirely in
Tibetan.

After a long and pleasant sojourn with him, I returned to
Sonam’s abode late in the evening.

CHAPTER XXIII

BEFORE THE CITY MAGISTRATES

The next day the city had somewhat quieted down, and I
was called over to the Palace of Justice by the civil magistrates
and asked to aid them in composing a letter to the Kashak, or
Cabinet, explaining how and why I came to Lhasa. I found
the two officials upstairs in a tiny room. They were clad in red-
silk robes, with purple facings that looked so exactly like my
Oxford doctor's gown that I burst out laughing when I first
saw them. They were seated on a dais at the end of the room.
Over them was a golden canopy, and on a small lacquer table
in front of them were placed jade cups with silver stands and
covers, which were constantly being replenished by small pages
with the usual buttered tea. Along either side of the room ran
lower cushions, on which clerks were seated cross-legged.
Generally, any person who is called before the magistrates is
forced to kneel down on the bare floor before them, but a special
exception was made in my case, and a senior clerk vacated his
seat for me.

The senior magistrate expatiated upon the wickedness of my
action in coming to Lhasa, and said that many officials were
extremely angry at my audacity and wished to see that I was
given proper punishment, so that he advised me to be very tact¬
ful in my statement, which would be forwarded to the higher
authorities, and make it include a special plea for mercy.

I then made a long statement in colloquial Tibetan which I
thought would suit the purpose. This was then redrafted into
literary, or more properly epistolary, Tibetan by the magis¬
trates and dictated to one of the clerks.

The clerk took down his dictation on a black rectangular
wooden board smeared with white chalk. He scribbled with a

294

BEFORE THE CITY MAGISTRATES 395

metal-pointed instrument which, clearing away the chalk, left
the black surface exposed. When the document had been
duly copied on paper with Tibetan pen and ink, the board was
again smeared with chalk and was ready for use again.

At first both magistrates, though courteous, had been very
hostile in their attitude, but they were obviously pleased that I
was acquainted with their language and knew something of the
customs and beliefs of the land, and eventually, by the inten¬
tional naweiS and simplicity of my answers, I won something
of their sympathy. In keeping with my naivete I managed to
forget the names of aU. the rest-houses where I had stopped
on the way, as I was anxious not to get innocent people into
trouble.

After the official business was concluded, and while waiting
for the clerk to make the final copy of my statement, I
managed to have a long chat with the two magistrates on
general matters. They asked me several questions about life
in England, but, unlike Tsarong, they were appa-Uingly
ignorant of eveiything which took place outside of their own
country. To them Tibet was the centre of the world, the heart
of civilization, and even their interest in European life was
quite perfunctory—^they asked questions in quite the same way
that an average Englishman might inquire as to the cannibal
tribes of the South Sea Islands. I found that, apart from the
highest Court circles, this attitude was common all over Lhasa.

For my part, I took the opportunity to secure from them a
good deal of information concerning the native administra¬
tion of justice. Law is at the present time a very vague thing
in Tibet. The ancient custom code has broken down, and the
magistrates now attempt to judge every case on its individual
merits, irrespective of statutes and only slightly influenced by
precedent. My new friends complained to me of their present
difficulty in assigning proper punishments. Tibet has never
had a prison system. Criminals are kept locked up only while
they are pending trial. In former times it was customary to
cut off a hand or a leg and to gouge out the eyes as a punishment
for any serious offence. The present Dalai Lama, however,
considers these punishments to be inconsistent with Buddhism,
consequently he abolished them a short time ago, so that
legally the judges can now only inflict flogging or banishment

296 TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

for any crime, including murder. The Lhasa magistrates
stated that these sentences were not sufficiently severe to deter
other offenders, and expressed regret that the old system had
been done away with.

Later I heard that the judges’ regret at the abolition of the
older punishments was possibly due to mixed motives. Practi¬
cally all officials in Tibet are in the habit of taking bribes. In
the old days a man was willing to pay a large sum to the meigis-
trate in order to retain his limbs or his eyes, but to-day the
criminal is not so eager to expend an equally large sum merely
in order to avoid a beating. Yet bribing persists, and a prisoner
assigned so many lashes can have the sentence mitigated by
paying to the magistrates the equivalent of 6 d. for each stroke
remitted. Even when a certain number of lashes has been
prescribed, the official whippers beat lightly or heavily accord¬
ing as to whether or not the prisoner is able and willing to give
them a present.

During the last few months the Tibetans have just begun to
adopt compulsory labour as a punishment. A notable case of
this kind was when a clever young monk from Sera was found
guilty of forging some of the new Government paper-money.
In admiration of his skill he was sentenced to work for two years
without pay as a craftsman in the new Lhasa arsenal.

The next development took place two days later, when the
Cabinet, having read my petition, commanded me to appear
before them in order to discuss certain of its statements. I was
told once more to muflfie up my face and to come in ordinary
Tibetan clothes so that no one should notice who I was as I
passed through the streets.

The headquarters of the Kashak, or Cabinet, it wiU be
remembered, are in one wing of the great cathedral, though it
has a separate entrance.

On this occasion I had little opportunity of seeing much of
the cathedral proper. Subsequently, however, I had several
opportunities of visiting it, and may as well give a brief descrip¬
tion of it here.

It should be remembered that this building is the very heart
and soul of Tibetan Buddhism, the centre of all attraction to
the thousands of pilgrims who flock annually to Lhasa, the
abode of the gods. To be quite correct, this cathedral is itself

BEFORE THE CITY MAGISTRATES 297

Lhasa, and the city only the buildings which have sprang up
around it. It is said to have been built in a.d. 652, but it has,
of course, been restored and added to since then.

On passing through the great entrance-gates, one finds
oneself in the outer courtyard, the sides of which are occupied
by covered and pillared verandahs. The walls of this court¬
yard are covered with frescoes long since rendered invisible
from age. This courtyard contains only two things of interest:
an outer chapel, where a number of important services are held
—this is near the entrance to the inner courtyard—and, along
the left wall, a throne for the Dalai Lama where he and his
attendants sit to witness certain ceremonies which are held in
this courtyard.

Beyond the outer courtyard, and separated from it by a
long, dark passage-way barred at either end by gates, lies the
inner courtyard. The corner of this courtyard is used as
a flower-bed, and in season the blossoms should be very
beautiful, though of course it was now lifeless.

Immediately opposite, at the end of the courtyard, is the
chief shrine, but screened from view by a wall of open iron
trellis-work. In front of this, on either side, are two statues
of Maitreya, the blessed saint who now dwells in the Tusita
Paradise waiting for the time to come when he will descend to
earth to be incarnated as the next Buddha, or saviour of the
world. The pillared walls of this courtyard are covered with
hundreds of images of various Buddhas and Bodhisattvas.

Behind the walls runs a long, dark passage aU around the
courtyard. Opening out from this are various chapels also
containing important images.

In order to get to the great central shrine one has to go around
by means of the passage. On the way one sees a statue of
Shar-Tsong-Kapa, the great reformer of Tibetan Buddhism
in the fourteenth century, the organizer of the all-powerful
yeUow-hat sect to which both the Dalai and the Trashi Lama
belong.

Eventually one comes to the central shrine, the Holy of
Holies, and stands before the chief image. This represents the
historical Buddha in his youth, when he was still a royal
prince, and before he had renounced the world to become an
ascetic. This image is supposed to have been made from life,

298 TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

in India, then taken to China, and finally brought to Tibet.
Its history is doubtful, but certainly it is the most holy image
of Tibet, the object of the unbounded adoration of the Tibetan,
and enormous wealth in the form of offerings are laid on its
altar. The lamps which bum before it are of pure gold, and
everything about the image is covered with enormous, though
uncut, precious stones.

This great image of the central shrine represents Tibet’s
contact with the earlier, more primitive Buddhism, where the
historic character of the founder plays an important part.
The floor above is largely devoted to the worship of the fierce
female demon who acts as the dread guardian of Buddhism.
Female deities are a late development in Buddhism, and this
particular deity dates from an even later time (probably seventh
century a.d.), when some of the gods and goddesses had come
to be considered terrorizing and bloodthirsty creatures whose
wrath must be appeased. The lady represented here, Peden
(or Paldan) Lhamo, is the most terrible of the furies. She has
many forms, some mild, representing her as a gracious lady,
the hearer of prayers ; others which portray her as the goddess
of black magic, of war, of disease, and of death.

In the upper room of the cho-hang, or cathedral, there are
images representing her in both aspects, but naturally one’s
eye is especially caught by the image of her in her more horrible
phases. The colour is black, representing mystery and death.
She is riding on a fawn-coloured mule, but she is clad in the
skins of dead men, and is eating brains from a human skull.
Offerings of chang, or beer—a substitute for blood—are made
to her in other human skulls, while as the goddess of battle she
is surrounded by aU sorts of weapons.

All around the image, and the room, run hundreds of tame
mice, which are sacred in that they are reincarnations of
monks and nuns consecrated to her service. Mice are sacred
to her in her character of the dispenser of disease, a curious
forerunner of the modern theory that the rodents are
germ-carriers.

Considering the terrible and bloodthirsty nature of the lady,
it is rather curious and amusing to find that the Tibetans
believed she was recently incarnated in the world as the late
Queen Victoria 1

TIBETAN DIMNITY ErriG\ OF A DEAD ABBOI IX A riBETAN CATHEDRAL

BEFORE THE CITY MAGISTRATES

299

It is only proper that a large chapel on the ground floor is
dedicated to the more important of all Tibetan kings, Srong-
Tsang-gampo, and his two wives. He is supposed to have
lived in the seventh century a.d. Prior to his time Tibet was
split up into a number of small warring savage tribes, utterly
devoid of any culture, and possessing no means of reading or
writing. Not only did he unite the country into one kingdom,
but he made marauding attacks on his neighbours, China and
Nepal, and forced the ruling families of both countries to
supply him with a consort.

Both ladies brought with them something of the culture of
their native lands, and through their influence Tibet began to
assume a veneer of civilization. More important still, both
queens were Buddhists. Not only did the king adopt their
religion, but he became an enthusiastic proselytizer. He
founded the cathedral and opened up the country to Buddhist
monks.

Srong-Tsang-gampo, the Constantine of Tibetan Buddhism,
was later followed by Langdarma, who played the part of
Julian the Apostate, and who attempted to root out the new
religion, but he was murdered by a zealous monk, and there¬
after the new religion continued to make steady progress—
progress, in fact, so great that the secular line of kings was
overthrown in favour of a hierarchy of monks. For a while,
as we have seen, the chief power lay in the hands of the abbots
of the Sakya Monastery, hundreds of miles away, but eventually
Lhasa became once more the capital under the rulership of
the chief priest of the young but vigorous yellow-cap order.
Nevertheless, not only is Srong-Tsang-gampo regarded as an
incarnation of divinity (deification is the common lot of every
great hero in Tibet), but his spirit is supposed to be reincarnated
in every succeeding Dalai Lama.

On this particiflar day, however, I was more interested in
the south-western wing of the cathedral, which is used as the
headquarters of the Tibetan Cabinet. Here I met the Lonchen,
or Prime Minister, and his colleagues, NgapoShapdandParkang
Dzasa. Tsarong was careful to be absent on this occasion,
but in any case he rarely attends the Cabinet meeting, as he
usually spends most of the day on the parade-ground at Settam
training his troops, or at Norbu Linga, the private residence

300

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

of the Dalai Lama, in personal attendance on His Holiness.
Another shapS, or secretary of State, called Trimon Shape, was
absent from Lhasa during the whole of my visit, being engaged
on a political mission in Kam (or Kham), the great province
in the east of Tibet. Parkang is the only ecclesiastical member
of the Cabinet, all the others being laymen. Technically, he
is not a full shapi, as can be seen by his title of Dzasa, but for
several years past he has acted in that capacity.

The office and title of Lonchen is very modem ; its creation
was due to special causes. Prior to 1904 the Cabinet consisted
only of four shapis (the literal translation of the name shap& is
“ lotus-foot ”). As a result of the Younghusband Expedition
the Dalai Lama was forced to flee to Mongolia, and the govern¬
ment of Tibet reverted to the hands of the Tsong-du, or National
Assembly, a Parliament consisting chiefly of representa¬
tives of the great Lhasa monasteries, and, consequently,
thoroughly reactionary. This body considered that the mili¬
tary and diplomatic defeat of Tibet was largely due to the
ineptitude of the then existing shapis. The latter were removed
from office and banished, four new men being appointed to take
their place.

In igo8, when the Dalai Lama returned to Lhasa and to
power, he felt that the ex-officers should be recompensed for the
injury done them. One of them was already dead, but the
other three were recalled to the capital. His Holiness did not
dare depose the four existing shapis, so he instituted the new
office of su^Qv-shapi, or Idnchen {lit. “ great minister ”), and had
the three exiles installed as such. This was intended as a
temporary measure, and the posts were automatically to cease
with the death of the three men concerned; but for a time
the Cabinet consisted of seven men, three lOnchens and four
shapis. Two of the I 0 nch$ns are dead, and the remaining
one is an old and feeble man. On his decease the Cabinet will
once more consist only of four shapis, though there is some talk
that the Dalai Lama will decide to continue the office of lOnchen
and appoint Tsarong to fill it.

The Kashak is a very important body. The Tibetans have
never learnt to differentiate between the executive and judicial
functions of government. Every Governor is also the judge of
his district, and the Kashak, in addition to being charged with

BEFORE THE CITY MAGISTRATES

301

the administration of the country, constitutes the High Court
of Appeal. The executive powers of the Dalai Lama are aU
exercised through the Kashak. This body appoints and
dismisses the Governors of the fifty-three districts, and all other
principal ofiicers. It issues laws and ordinances, but, in order
to appease the turbulent monks, important points of legislative
policy are placed before the National Assembly. The members
of the Kashak are appointed by the Dalai Lama, and are respon¬
sible only to him. Tsarong Shap4, as Commander-in-Chief of
the Army, and as Master of the Mint, has special functions
assigned to him; but the other members of the Cabinet are not
individually charged with the supervision of a particular
department or ministry. Their duties are to attend at the
general meetings of the cabinet, before which all State matters
are brought and decided.

The Kashalc meets every day of the week except Saturday.
Every Thursday it assembles in the presence of the Dalai Lama,
either at the Potala or at his private palace, Norbu Linga, in
which he prefers to reside on ordinary occasions. On that day
the business which has transpired during the whole week is
reviewed. The Dalai Lama takes a great deal of personal
interest in these details, and frequently lays down certain lines
of policy which must be followed by the Kashak in deciding
future cases. At the same time, he is careful never to
insist on any point which he thinks may arouse public
opposition. He has twice lost his throne, and has no desire
to do so again.

On the occasion of my visit I found the three ministers seated
cross-legged in a shabby little room fuU of papers, little better
than that occupied by the city magistrates. Ngapa and Park-
ang said very little, and the conversation which ensued was
carried on almost entirely by Lonchen and myself. I felt that
the other two were inclined to be hostile, but Lonchen main¬
tained an even courtesy, though he was obviously upset by
the trouble which my entry into Lhasa had caused the Govern¬
ment. He is a mild, timid man, with much more of the air
of a religious recluse than of Tibet’s highest civil official. His
policy is one of irresolution and compromise. His intentions
are excellent, but he is easily frightened from carrying them
out by the slightest show of forcible opposition. He has none

302 TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

of that devil-may-care attitude which makes Tsarong so
charming.

He told me that the Kashak hardly knew what to do
about me. He claimed that he and the other shafds
had no anti-foreign prejudice, but as the National Assembly
had been most vehement in rejecting the proposition that
we be allowed to come on to Lhasa from Gyangts6, he
was afraid that its members would become very angry
when they heard of my arrival. Nevertheless, as I was
here, Lonchen added, he had been persuaded—^here I saw
Tsarong’s influence—to allow me to stay on for a
further period, though he asked me to remain more or
less in disguise, and not let the populace gain an inkling
of my arrival, lest a riot take place.

Lonchen was anxious to know what made me so keen to come
to Lhasa. It was impossible to get him to understand the
pleasures of undertaking an adventurous and dangerous journey;
had I talked about anthropological research he would have
thought me mad, so I informed him that so keen was my thirst
for knowledge of Buddhism that I risked everything to drink
from the fountain of wisdom at Lhasa. The old gentleman then
thought he would like to test my knowledge of Buddhist
philosophy, and asked me to interpret a text, which may be
translated as follows ; " Salutation to the peerless teacher who
has silenced all disputation by his explanation of casual origin¬
ation, without beginning and without ending, without per¬
manence and without impermanence, without sameness and
without difference, without coming and without going.” TMs
happens to be the first verse of Nagarjuna’s famous “ Madhy-
amika-Karika,” written about the first century a.d. As luck
would have it, I once spent six months for my sins in studying
this work and its commentaries, so I decided to take this oppor¬
tunity of airing a few of the unintelligible polysyllables which
I had learnt in this connection, interspersing quotations from
Sanskrit and Chinese, neither of which could the poor man
understand. In fact, the old gentleman, though deeply pious,
had very little knowledge of the technicalities of his faith, and
had asked for the interpretation largely as a joke, but I kept
him on the paradoxical grill until his brain seemed nearly
addled.

BEFORE THE CITY MAGISTRATES 303

The Tsongdu, or National Assembly, to which reference has
been made, is a very important body, since in theory, at least, it
has charge of the entire legislation of all Tibet. There are, in
name at least, two assemblies. One is the Greater Assembly.
This consists of representatives of aU the monasteries, but, in
point of fact, this Greater Assembly never meets except at very
momentous times, and the conduct of affairs lies in the hands of
the Lesser Assembly, the Tsongdu proper, a small and very
exclusive body, consisting of some twenty-odd persons whose
most important members are the representatives of the
three great Lhasa monasteries—Sera, Drepung, and Ganden.
There are also representatives of the four royal lings and
of the highest nobility, but every member is essentially a
Lhasa man.

This is in one way the weakness of the Tibetan Government.
The higher officials, including the provincial Governors, are
aU chosen from families which may have estates aU over
the country, but are essentially Lhasa famiUes, and the
Parliament of Tibet is dominated by the local Lhasa
monasteries. The peasants, and even the gentry and
monasteries of other parts of Tibet, have no voice in the
settling of affairs.

Nominally all matters of national importance must come
before the National Assembly for its approval, as well as all
matters, however trifling, relating to foreign policy, so that even
the Dalai Lama, in spite of his divinity, is not absolute. At
the same time, it is the Dalai Lama who is a judge of what
constitutes a matter of national importance, and in his con¬
stant reaching after personal power, he and his Cabinet now
frequently decide matters which by right should secure the
approval of the legislative body.

At the same time the Tsongdu is far from being a nonentity,
and even in the last few years has frequently vetoed plans upon
which the Dalai Lama had set his heart.

Consisting as it does largely of monks, the Tsongdu is a very
conservative and reactionary body, whose steady policy it has
been to check the Dalai Lama and Tsarong Shap6 in their
efforts at reform and reorganization.

The Tsongdu meets in a large room forming part of the
Kashak wing of the cathedral. The shapis, or ministers of

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

304

State, are not allowed to be actually present and take part in
the discussion, but they are allowed to be present in a small
adj oining room, curtained off, where they can hear everything
that is said : apart from the shapis, all meetings are held in
camera.

CHAPTER XXIV

SECRET MEETING WITH DALAI LAMA

After my meeting with the Cabinet I returned to Sonam’s
dwelling, there to await further developments. Three days
later I obtained my first glimpse of the Dalai Lama. He was
far too frightened to grant me a public audience lest it be made
the basis of agitation against him, but his curiosity had been
aroused, and he arranged for a secret interview, so secret, in
fact, that even my servants and Sonam knew nothing about
it. In the evening a messenger arrived and told me I was to
accompany him to the Kashak, but after turning a comer I was
led by him along another street which runs from the city of
Lhasa to the great Potala palace.

It was now dark, and it was, therefore, impossible for me to
see much of where we were going, but after arriving at the
village at the foot of the palace we entered a side-door of the
sacred enclosure at the bottom of the hiU. Though from a
distance the Potala looks like a single, unified structure, it is
really a cluster of many co-ordinated buildings and wings,
used as residences for various officials, tombs, temples, and
chapels, reception and ceremonial rooms ; one wing is used as
a training-school for of&cials.

We climbed up the hill to the base of the Great Red Palace,
the centre block of which dominates all the others, and which
contains the more important chapels and reception-rooms,
and which contains the private apartments of the Dalai Lama
used by him when he resides in the Potala.

On entering the Red Palace, and after going along a long
passage, I stumbled up an interminable number of Tibetan
step-ladder staircases until I found myself in a small room
which was very near the top. Here I was suddenly left by

3o6 to LHASA IN DISGUISE

my attendant. At first I thought I was quite alone, but
looking closer through the gloom I saw, quietly waiting,
one other person—^no other person than the Dalai Lama
himself.

I had quite a long talk with the living god of Tibet, but
though it concerned itself only with general matters, I was
forced to promise that I should keep the interview entirely
secret. It was obvious that His Holiness was much frightened
at the possible consequences of giving me an audience, and later,
when a crisis came, he denied having seen me and forced me to
do the same.

While, however, it was impossible to record what was
said, I can at least say something of the impression he made
upon me.

I found him to be a smallish man, lighter in build and with
a face longer and more oval than most Tibetans. A childhood
attack of smallpox has left slight traces upon his countenance,
but these were almost invisible in the gloom. His head is
’ shaven, as becomes a priest, but he has a long, pointed moustache
which he learnt in India to wax. He is a man who is obviously
accustomed to be regarded as a god, and who, moreover, has
a firm belief in his own divinity, and yet there is a great quiet¬
ness, and even modesty, about his manner. He has not the
delicate, half-mystical appearance which characterizes the
Trashi Lama of Shigats^. He is much more a man of the world,
a careful observer of human nature, and a shrewd conjecturer
of ulterior motives. His personal life is above suspicion. He
is rigid in his celibacy and in his abstinence from wine and
tobacco. His food is simple, and his dress on ordinary occa¬
sions scarcely to be distinguished from that of an ordinary
monk. He prefers to reside as much as possible in his villa of
Norbu Linga, another mile beyond the city, instead of living
in state, attended with pomp and ceremony, in the PotaJa,
one of the most magnificent palaces in the world. Yet he is
obviously concerned with this world's affairs. He is ambitious
in a cool, calculating way, ever seeking to unify his power and
to weaken opposition.

In his youth his violent temper frequently led him to commit
some rash or foolish act, but the trials and tribulations of exile
and deposition have taught him greater caution, one might

SECRET MEETING WITH DALAI LAMA 307

almost, say craftiness. He is afraid to commit himself to a
policy without seeing what its effect will be. He would be
the last person to claim occult powers for himself, and his
intelligence is not gigantic. Fine points of metaphysics and
theology he leaves to others, but he is possessed of a great deal
of acumen and acuteness. Above all, he is blessed with the
faculty of being able to choose wisely his human instruments.
His most notable success along this line is Tsarong Shapi, and
the wisest thing he ever did was to place in Tsarong’s hands
much of the reorganization of the state.

As is generally known, the office of the Dalai Lama is not
hereditary, nor is this supreme ruler of Tibet elected by the
will of the people. Rather is he chosen by a system which is
unique in the Governments of the world. In theory the,
Dalai Lama is an incarnation of the divinity Chenresi, and is
also an immediate reincarnation of himself. Within a short
time, varying from a few months to two years, after the death
of this pontiff the supreme council of monks announces to the
people the discovery of the new Dalai Lama. This new Dalai
Lama may be an infant of a few weeks, or a child as old as two
years, but in any case he must have been born subsequent to
the death of the last Dalai Lama, whose soul is supposed to have
transmigrated into the body of the infant. Sometimes, before
the death of the old pontiff, the latter intimates to his council¬
lors that he will probably be bom in this or that part of the
country, or in this or that type of family. Such intimation,
of course, simplifies matters for the councillors when the time
comes to make the choice. But where no such intimation is
given, or where there is a division of opinion among the
councillors, recourse is made to divination in the way of the
casting of lots. Not only is the Dalai Lama thus chosen to
succeed himself as a new incarnate Buddha, but also other
high ecclesiastics, particularly the abbots of many important
monasteries throughout Mongolia and Tibet, are so elected.
In the case of these less important lamas, however, the succes¬
sion generally follows regularly, and each incarnation attains
to a ripe old age. But the Dalai Lamas have been much less
fortunate.

The first four supreme pontiffs were purely religious leaders
and had no political significance, consequently they too ha<L^

3o8 to LHASA IN DISGUISE

the average duration of life. It was the fifth incarnation who
managed by the aid of the Tartars to make himself a temporal
ruler of the country. Thereafter a great deal of pohtical
intrigue began to be bound up with the fortunes of each
succeeding incarnation.

After the death of the fifth Dalai Lama there were a number
of irregular successions, with various rival claimants for the
divine office, each supported by various factions. Eventually
the Chinese Emperor was called in by one of the factions in order
to establish their protdg4 on the throne, and at the same time
to protect them from foreign invaders. The Chinese did
restore order, but at the usual price, and in 1720 the Emperor
Kangshi, of China, declared Tibet to be a vassal, even though
_ autonomous, state and appointed two amhans, or political
agents, to reside in Lhasa. Though nominally only diplomatic
agents, these Chinese officials exercised a great deal of power,
and from that date imtil 1912 Tibet was forced to recognize the
suzerainty of China.

Thereafter the succession to the throne was regular but
extremely rapid. The administration of power lay in the hands
of a regent, who was in turn largely controlled by the ambans.
The regent was supposed to hold office during the minority of
the Dalai Lama, but practically no Dalai Lama was allowed
to survive his minority. The limit of life for the last four
Dalai Lamas has been eleven, eighteen, eighteen, and eighteen
respectively. In other words, the boy Dalai Lamas have all
been puppets in the hands of the priestly oligarchy which ruled
the country. These all-powerful priests, fearing that an adult
Dalai Lama might not always be sufficiently plastic in their
hands, saw to it that the “ supreme ruler ” was called to a
new incarnation when he reached the age of majority.

The present Dalai Lama is the first one in over a century to
escape this fate. He is a man of acumen and of great strength
of character, as has previously been indicated. In no way has
he manifested these characteristics more than in his supreme
achievement, namely, escape from death up to his present age.
The son of a peasant, his succession to the supreme rulership of
Tibet was obviously dictated by political motives. At the time
of his succession Tibet was much under the influence of China,
^nd China did not wish the supreme rulership of Tibet to fall

SECRET MEETING WITH DALAI LAMA 309

into tl^ hands of one of the wealthy and powerful families of
that country. Hence the choice of the peasant-boy for this
office.

This one-time peasant-boy is now a man over fifty, one who
has succeeded in wresting to himself, as Dalai Lama, the power
that for so long had been usurped by the oligarchy of monks.
Suspecting, and doubtless learning from hearsay of the fate of
his predecessors, the present Dalai Lama, when he approached
the age of majority, studiously avoided eating food that was
not first tasted by his attendants, and in other ways shrewdly
escaped running into danger.

On reaching the age of eighteen he insisted upon claiming the
power that was nominally his, and grudgingly this was granted
to him. Emboldened by success and by the " will of power,’*
as well as the “ will to live,” the present Dalai Lama embarked
on his own responsibility upon a fearless, if somewhat indiscreet,
foreign policy. His apparent over-friendlmess for Russia and
his overtures to that country succeeded in arousing the hostility
of both Great Britain and China ; that of the former in particu¬
lar, of which the more or less direct consequence was the
British Expedition under Colonel Younghusband into Tibet in
1904. Upon the entrance of British troops into Tibet the Dalai
Lama fled incontinently into Mongolia, from which country he
later crossed over to China and lived for a time in Peking. In
1908 he returned to Tibet, but was destined to remain there
only about eighteen months before, " on the wheel of things,”
it became China’s turn to act the part of invader of Tibet and
the turn of Great Britain—^i.e. British India—to act the part
of host, offering refuge to the fugitive. From 1910 to 1912
His Holiness remained in India.

Since 1912, when, through the activity of Tsarong, the
Chinese were ousted and the Dalai Lama returned to power in
Lhasa, it has been the part of His Holiness to " set his house in
order.” It is a part for which, considering the many obstacles
which have beset his path, he has shown unusual capacity. As
the result of his activity, the present political situation in Tibet
is one of unusual interest.

The country is sharply divided into two actively-partisan
groups. One is the Court Party, and is supported by a
considerable portion of the lay nobility and of the peasantrjs*

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

310

The other, represented by the so-called National Asserloly, is
largely composed of the nominees of the priests of the three
large monasteries in the vicinity of Lhasa. Both these parties
are largely autocratic, but the priestly party is by far the more
reactionary. The Court party consists largely of persons who
have dwelt long enough abroad to absorb new ideas, and is
comparatively progressive. Incidentally, the Court party is
pro-British, while the priestly party is strongly anti-British and
pro-Chinese. At present there is no group which has any
especial regard for Russia.

To-day the power of the Court party is gradually on the
increase, but it is interesting to speculate upon what will take
place upon the death of the present Dalai Lama. Will Tsarong
.seize the reins of government and declare himself king, as it is
sometimes whispered may be the case, or will he, perhaps more
astutely, be instrumental in the choice of an infant Dalai Lama
of a t5^e that can be moulded to his own point of view and way
of thinking ? Or, wiU a very old prophecy be in reality fulffled,
namely, that the thirteenth Dalai Lama will be the last, and
that after his death Tibet will be opened up to the “ white
barbarians ” of the West, and the title Dalai Lama be but a
memory of the past ? Easy to put the question, but who can
answer ? My mind was dwelling on these things as I sat in
amiable conversation with His Holiness.

At the end of an hour I took my leave, and returned to Lhasa
in the same stealthy way that I had come.

The next morning the storm broke. I knew that after the
news of my arrival had been communicated to so many persons
it was impossible for it to remain long a secret. Rumours
about me had been spreading for the last several days, and had
eventually reached the ears of some of the more fanatical
monks. Consequently, in the morning I saw quite a crowd
collected under my window. This continued to swell in size,
and by the afternoon had become turbulent. Two or three of
the bolder spirits raised a howl and called on me to show
myself, while others shrieked, “ Death to the foreigner.”
Others then joined in, and a regular ” hymn of hate ” came up
from below. Stones and sticks began to be thrown. Fortu¬
nately my flat was on the second floor and was very inaccessible;
>ut a few stones hit the window and the glass panes were

SECRET MEETING WITH DALAI LAMA 311

broker^ As the mob had no firearms with them, I knew they
could (R» little damage unless they could get inside the house.
AU houses in Lhasa are built round a courtyard. The ground
floor is given over to stables and store-rooms, and has no door
or window opening on the street except one great gate com¬
municating between the courtyard and outside. Staircases
leading to the first and second floors are all inside the courtyard.
As a precaution I had the great gate closed and barred, and
prepared to hold a siege. The crowd pounded on the gate and
strove to get in, but the great beams held firm. In other
lands there might have been danger of their setting fire to the
place, but in Tibet all houses are made of stone or sun-dried
bricks and are not inflammable. There was the possibility
that the other inhabitants of the house might prove treacherous,
and by opening the gateway from within allow the crowd to*'
enter; but though I placed two of my servants on guard at
the gate, I had no great fear, as it was known that a mob was
hkely to do damage all round, and I felt that everyone else
would have an interest in keeping the rabble out.

It was rather thrilling to have a crowd outside howling for
one’s blood, but though my servants were terribly frightened,
it seemed likely, from what I saw, to prove a safe amusement.
At the same time, if by any chance the mob were to effect an
entry, things would develop into something far more serious,

I knew and realised that it would be safer for me outside
than inside, so I decided temporarily to take refuge in another
part of the city. None of the mob had any idea of what
I looked hke, so I carefully renewed my disguise and with
my servants slipped out by a small secret door in the back of
the courtyard leading into another courtyard, and which in
turn led into a small back street.

I was determined to take refuge in the residence of a petty
official who was friendly to me, but in passing it occurred to
me that it would be rather thrilling to see from the outside
something of the mob around my house.

The crowd had its attention so fixed upon the spot where
they thought I should be that they would never dream that
their intended victim was standing amongst them. Therefore,
on the way to my sanctuary, I naade my way to the front of the
house and stood for a few moments on the outskirts of the

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

312

throng. Not to be outdone by the others, I occasiori^illy let
out a yell myself, and to make things very realistic picked up
a small stone and threw it at my own window.

I heard later that troops had been held in readiness to rush
to my assistance in case the mob had got into the house, but
this proved unnecessary. When darkness crept on and the
time for dinner arrived, the crowd gradually melted away, and
I returned to my own abode by the same way that I had left.

During the next few days small groups of people gathered
in front of the house, and occasionally made hostile demon¬
strations, but these never developed into anything serious,
largely because it became known that I was under the protection
of the Government.

Nevertheless, guards were posted at the door as a precaution
'against any unforeseen eventuality, and the Government
implored me not to leave the house during the remainder of the
period that the monks continued in the city, lest I should be
recognized and attacked on the streets. After the monks had
left and the city had settled down to normal conditions all
danger would be at an end. From February 27 until March 13
I was practically a prisoner of State in the Forbidden City.
But this period was far from unpleasant.

In the first place the period of enforced rest did me a great
deal of good physically. The illness which had come upon me
while I was still on my way to Lhasa had continued, and I had
been far from well ever since entering the city. The excite¬
ment of the first few days had done nothing to improve matters,
and I was more than glad to have this opportunity of quiet
recuperation.

The i n flammation of the lungs brought about several
hemorrhages, but the freedom from exposure and efficiency of
sheepskin blankets led slowly to improvement, though the
improvement proved very gradual. For some reason the
coughing spells came much more frequently at night than in
the daytime, and when I sat up the coughing was less severe
than when I lay down. On many occasions I could only get
a few hours’ rest by sleeping propped up in a sitting position.

The dysentery proved even more troublesome. At first I
thought of calling in some of the lamas from the famous
Medical College on the Chakpo HiU opposite the Potala, for

SECRET MEETING WITH DALAI LAMA 313

I knew -^bat in addition to their chants they were in the habit
of giving*certain herbs to their patients. In many cases their
herbs are quite fantastic and their drags based on the magic
pharmacopoeia of China, but for simpler troubles many of the
herbs of the witch-doctors of primitive peoples are quite useful,
and I thought that some of their drugs might do me good and
at the same time I might, in this way, see how the lama
doctors of Tibet go about their work. But I was strongly
advised not to call them in, as it was more than possible that
they would administer some poison in place of medicine—^this
being the simplest method of getting me out of the way.

The lama doctors of Tibet know nothing of modern Western
methods. The groundwork of their medical theory is based on
the ancient Indian system incorporated in mediseval Buddhism,
but this system has been somewhat modified by ideas taken
from the Chinese pharmacopoeia.

Considering the fact that the Tibetans are in the habit of
cutting up the bodies of the dead, it is surprising how backward
the Tibetan medical system is even regarding anatomy. No
advantage seems to have been taken of the corpse-dissection to
improve on the knowledge of the shape and functions of the
internal organs. Elaborate anatomical charts are indeed
prepared, but in these the heart of a woman is supposed to beat
in the middle of her chest and that of a man on the left; red
blood circulates on the right-hand side of the body and yellow
bile on the left.

Surgery of a very primitive kind is practised, but entirely
without reference to antiseptics, and many persons in Tibet die
from blood-poisoning consequent on amputations.

Crude and primitive as this Tibetan medical science is, it is
very elaborate, and a man is supposed to study nearly ten years
before he can master it—^longer than the time required for a
European medical degree—and many aspirants fail in their
final medical examination. AU told, there is less than one
hundred qualified lama doctors anywhere in Tibet, and nearly
all of these are resident in Lhasa. In the country districts
an ordinary monk with a knowledge of ritual is considered
sufficient to banish the disease-bringing demons. Pneu¬
monia, venereal diseases, and smallpox are the scourges which
are most rampant in Tibet.

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

314

Some of the more simple and pious of my Lhas'*' friends
became worried as the days went on and I showed no‘improve¬
ment, and wanted me to go in for the more ordinary Tibetan
method of curing disease—the method used in the country
where no doctors are to be foimd. This would necessitate
calling in some priests, but as no drugs were to be administered,
it was thought to be safe.

According to this plan some priests were to perform three
rites on my behalf: one was the chanting of a famous meta¬
physical Buddhist work called the Prajna Paramita Sutra
{Sher-chin), or the Discourse on the Transcendental Wisdom;
second was the offering of food and drink to various demons,
genii, and guardian deities, to insure their good-wiU; finally, in
case these failed and I should grow worse, the monks should
perform a ceremony called chi-lu, wherein a little crude image
of myself wrapped in some of my clothes should be offered to
the gods of death with the idea that the gods could be deceived
into taking this image instead of myself.

Two other similar cures are recommended : one was to eat
some of the rilbu, or holy phis, which are prepared in somewhat
different form all over Tibet. In nearly aU cases they are round
black balls about the size of marbles, made of barley-flour and
containing the relic of past saints, or even something from the
body of living incarnations. Needless to say, the Dalai Lama
phis are considered particularly efficacious in curing diseases,
and I was assured of a supply.

The other means of conquering disease especially recom¬
mended was to purchase some animal destined for slaughter
and set him free. It is beheved that illness comes as a
pimishment for past misdeeds, and the saving of life is so
meritorious that it will counteract aU past evil and therefore
do away with the cause of disease.

I was destined, however, to receive medical assistance from
quite another source. Knowing that I was ill, Tsarong promised
to send me some English medicines that he had had especially
imported from India, but on arrival they turned out to be a
dozen boxes of very mouldy Beecham’s Pills, and three pounds
of Epsom salts. Considering the crudity of Tibetan medicine,
it might be thought that a person initiated into the mysteries of
.European medicine would find a very warm welcome in Tibet,

SECRET MEETING WITH DALAI LAMA 315

but the ^gcperience of the Europeanized doctors in Gyangtse
and Yatung prove that this is not necessarily the case. It
was thought to be good propaganda pohcy by the Indian
Government to have a European doctor stationed at Gyangtse
who could not only look after the health of the troops stationed
there, but also attend to various Tibetan patients—and by
curing them win the goodwill of the people. Conservative
prejudice, however, has meant that in most cases Tibetans who
fall ill will first call in their priests, and only when they have
given up all hope of recovery, as a last resort, will a visit be
paid to the English doctor. In many cases the disease has
reached such an advanced stage by this time that it is
impossible to effect a cure—and it is the European, of course,
who gets the blame for the death of the patient, and so belief
in the efficacy of European medicine is a matter of slow growth.

In my own case, what helped me more than any medicine was
the fact that I could get proper food once more. Whereas in
the country districts it was possible to secure only barley-flour,
tea, and putrid meat, which for purpose of disguise I had to
eat raw, in Lhasa the menu was much more varied.

In the first place the Lhasa plains are so much more fertile
than any other part that many more crops will grow there.
Peas, potatoes, and walnuts, for example, are cultivated, and
from the extreme east of Tibet come apples and dried apricots.

The upper classes of Lhasa have been much affected by
Chinese ideas, and many of their dishes are of Chinese origin.

The most common dish of the aristocrats in Tibet is a broth
called tuhpa. This contains a vermicelli, or spaghetti, made of
mUlet-flour, generally, and a mass of finely-chopped boiled
meat. This might be called the staple dish, for a man will have
seven or eight helpings of this and will, in between these help¬
ings, eat little bits from the various side-dishes—curried meat,
turnips, white radishes, etc.—^which are in front of him.

Another very popular Lhasa dish, consumed in great quanti¬
ties by inhabitants of the capital, is momo, or meat dumplings.
These are boiled pastry balls containing minced meat and
onions, and generally flavoured with sa, a pungent wild vege¬
table, nearly as hot as chilli. There are a great many eating-
shops which specialize in these momo, and they are usualy
crowded.

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

316

Even in Lhasa rice is not grown, and in any case th^fTibetans
have no use for it, but Lhasa contains many l 3 hutanese,
Sikkimese, and Nepalese, who can never get fully accustomed
to Tibetan barley, so for their benefit rice is brought on mules
from over the passes. This means that rice is procurable in
Lhasa, but it is very expensive.

Most pleasing of all to me was the fact that one can get sweet¬
meats in Lhasa. The Chinese are very fond of various sweet,
even though tasteless, cakes. They were even able to imbue
the Tibetan nobles with a famt liking for these delicacies, and
I was able to buy several boxes which had been specially
imported from China. They were aU old and mildewed, but
they were better than nothing.

Best of all, I was able to secure small quantities of sugar.
The sugar was filthy and sold in tiny paper parcels containing
only a teaspoonful of the precious stuff, and these packets
cost a rupee (is. 6 d.) apiece, but so great was my yearning for
something sweet after months of abstinence that I squandered
a small fortune on these sugar packets.

To me the Chinese dishes, such as tukpa and momo, were
scarcely more appetizing than native Tibetan food, but as
raw materials were fairly abundant, and as there was no longer
any necessity for secrecy or disguise, Lhaten was able to prepare
for me a number of dishes for which my soul yearned.

I found that living expenses were much higher in Lhasa than
an5rwhere else in Tibet, but apart from sugar, rice, cakes, and
other imported food, of course cheaper than in the outer world.

It may be interesting to some to see my average household
budget while I was in Lhasa. This does not include anything
eaten by my servants.

Fuel (yak-dung)
Chicken (whole)

Eggs (four)

Milk (yak’s milk)

Potatoes

Meat

Rice (handful)..
Sugar (three packets)

4 trangkas *
4

4
3

^ It should be remembered that i trangka is approximately equal to $4.

SECRET MEETING WITH DALAI LAMA 317

A supjply of this sort would last about two days—^wHch
shows thSt I did not stint myseU after my long experience of
half-starvation.

I was afraid that the long weeks of my imprisonment were
going to prove very tedious, but the time was made interesting
in a number of different ways.

In the first place, during this New Year period there was a
large number of pageants, ceremonies, and processions, and as
many of these took place in the market-place underneath my
windows I was able to get an excellent view of them.

More particularly did three of these affairs make a vivid
impression upon my mind. The first of these took place on
March 3, which was the fifteenth day of the first Tibetan
month, and as the Tibetans have a lunar calendar, the night
of every fifteenth is always marked by the full moon.

The afternoon of this day was marked by feverish activity.
Labourers were busy erecting great booths all around the
Inner Circle. These booths were very imposing structures,
many of them over 50 feet high. They were supported by
huge wooden poles stuck into the ground, but the body con¬
sisted of canvas or cloth cut in various geometrical designs,
each of special symbolic significance. This canvas was either
painted, or more commonly decorated with stained butter,
and frequently inlaid with elaborate and beautifully-carved
butter images.

Before these great cloth structures wooden altar-tables were
placed, and on these were put large numbers of brass lamps
filled with butter, which were lighted once dusk had fallen.

At about seven o’clock the Dalai Lama and all the great
officials of State made a solemn procession lit by torches around
the Inner Circle, followed by thousands of pilgrims. To the
Tibetans it was a most solemn and sacred affair, and even to
the outsider really very imposing, but a humorously-incon-
gruous touch was added by a large body of troops from the new
army which Tsarong is training along strictly European lines,
who went before and after the Dalai Lama as a bodyguard.

The officials and the high-priests were dressed in their
mediaeval costumes, while the soldiers wore British uniforms
and were armed with modem rifles. To make matters more
incongruous, at the most solemn and sacred moment in the

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

318

whole procession the regimental band struck up “Should a
Body Kiss a Body cornin’ through the Rye ? ”

The lamps were kept alight and large bodies of pilgrims
continued to circumambulate the central square all through the
night, but at the first sign of dawn the lamps were extinguished
and the structures quickly dismantled, and by eight o’clock
in the morning there was no trace of them. Considering
the great laziness and slowness of the Tibetans on one hand,
and the great size of the ceremonial booths on the other, it was
really remarkable with what speed they were wrecked and
pulled down.

This fuU-moon ceremony had its origin in the great Kumbum
Monastery which lies at the extreme north-east of Tibet, a
part stUl controlled by China. This monastery was the early
field of labour of the great Tibetan reformer Tsong Kapa, the
foimder of the yellow-hat sect, who brought this festival with
him to Lhasa.

There must have been over a hundred booths in all at this
Lhasa festival. It is the duty of each monastery in the
neighbourhood and of each of the great aristocratic and
official families to erect and attend to one. This duty entails
a heavy expense, and there was a tendency a few years ago to
neglect this obligation as far as possible, and at any rate to
demolish the booths early in the evening; but in spite of this
great modernity in some respects, the Dalai Lama is a great
stickler for the strict observance of all rehgious ceremonial,
and has forced the people to erect the booths in the old elaborate
manner.

The second important procession did not take place -until
the 12th of March. This was even more military in tone. In
fact it was the ceremonial procession of the old national guard
of Tibet. In the old days, before the new army had been
created, it was the duty of each of the great families and the
important monasteries to provide and equip a number of
soldiers who could be called upon for service in case of
emergency or war.

In spite of the new army, this old territorial army organiza¬
tion continues to exist. A quainter procession coiild scarcely
be imagined. There were three main groups, one armed -with
bows and arrows, one with spears, and one with guns—but

.SECRET MEETING WITH DALAI LAMA 319

such gu^s ! They were all muzzle-loaders, of old seventeenth-
or, at laiest, eighteenth-century design, top-heavy, lop-sided,
but wonderfully inlaid and decorated. Any one of them
would have found a place of honour in an historical museum.
To add to the impressiveness of the occasion these ancient
muskets were loaded with blank cartridges, and, on being
fired, caused a deafening din. Nearly all the soldiers were in
full armour of weU-worked iron, reminding one somewhat of
the old armour of Japan. They wore curious round, basket¬
like shields, and had feathers in their helmets. Even the horses
of the mounted soldiers were encased in armour. Three times
this fantastic army went in procession around the Inner Circle,
and then marched away to the open plains to carry out their
tactics.

The next great pageant took place only the next day
(March 13). This was more definitely religious, being a festival
in honour of the Blessed Maitreya, the coming saviour of the
world. An image of the saint was carried around on the one
wheeled vehicle of Tibet, a curious, clumsy cart. Why in the
world the Tibetans have never gone in for carts I cannot
imagine,' as the open plains are admirably suited for wheeled
traffic, but even the Dalai and Trashi Lamas are content to go
about in a palanquin, a privilege shared only by the abbess
of Samding Monastery, and everyone else must walk or ride
on horse- or mule-back. Even the image-bearing carriage of
Lhasa was puUed by men. Behind the cart marched in proces¬
sion the glories of Lhasa, two real live elephants from Nepal,
both of them presents to the Dalai Lama. Very fine, but very
useless, presents they are, for neither the Dalai Lama nor any
other Tibetan would dare ride on them, and even their keepers,
or mahouts, have to be Nepalese, as no Tibetan would take
on the job.

Behind the elephants came three great dummy animals
made out of cloth, very ingeniously designed and coloured.
They were of great size and each contained several men. They
represented the yak, the tiger, and the elephant.

Small boys played a very important part in this procession.
I rather wondered at this until I was told the reason, which
is certainly very curious. According to ancient Indian cosmo¬
logy the stature and the span of life of mankind are not

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

320

changeless, but undergo cycles of decrease and increase/' At the
zenith of human glory every man is a giant, and tho average
duration of life is 80,000 years, but gradually degeneration sets
in. Stature and life-span decrease until all human beings are
dwarfs and live for only ten years. After this comes a cycle of
increase when man goes back to his original size and duration of
life, but just at present, according to the Hindus and Buddhists,
mankind is on the downgrade. Every century man’s life
and size steadily, even though imperceptibly, decrease. The
average life is already less than a hundred years, and the average
stature less than 6 feet, and this degeneration will continue for
many centuries to come. But when the nadir is reached,
Maitreya, the compassionate saviour, will arise. The boys in
the procession, therefore, represent what all human beings will
look like in the era of the future Buddha.

In addition to the processions, the tediousness of my prisoner-
ship was also relieved by reading. By sending Lhaten out into
the market I managed to procure a good supply of Tibetan
books. These were, of course, of the usual sort, printed not
with movable type, but from carved-out wooden blocks on very
coarse paper. In many cases the print was insufferably bad,
the whole page being but a black smudge. But this is quite
understandable. Most of the peasant pilgrims who come to
Lhasa like to buy a few religious books. To be possessed of
holy writings is to acquire merit. It is quite unnecessary that
they be read, and as they are not to be read why should
they be well printed ?

I told Lhaten to buy for me two groups of books, one being
those which were most popular amongst the laity, and the other
which were most popular amongst the priests, and in due course
he brought me back some fifty or sixty volumes. The books
bought by the laity were largely trash—confessions of sins to
the Buddhas of the past, recitation of charms for protection
from evil, danger, and sickness, and an occasional biography
of a Dalai Lama or other saint.

Among the books which were most popular with the ordinary
monks were three works of considerable interest.

The first of these was the Domang {lit. “ Many Sutras ”), a
selection of the most popular short discourses from the great
“ Kangyur ” collection. This book is a gold-mine to the priest

SECRET MEETING WITH DALAI LAMA 321

in Tibdt, as he will be weU paid for reciting or chanting various
portion^ of this book for the benefit of private patrons. The
whole “ Kangyur ” is far too bulky to be portable, but the
Domang can be carried wherever custom calls. The whole
“ Kangyur ” contains much that is really beautiful and much
that is really silly—and unfortunately the selections contained
in the Domang are nearly all of the silly class—magic charms
and incantations for winning the protection of gods and
demons.

The second work was the collected poems of the great Tibetan
saint Milarepa (spelled Milaraspa). He might be called the
Tibetan St. Francis. A wandering ascetic vowed to poverty,
and clad only in a cotton robe, he composed many religious
poems, some of which show high artistic merit. Amongst many
magical and mythological puerilities there are very vivid
descriptions of land and of people, though the whole tone of
his poems is to declare the nothingness of all phenomenal
existence.

The third book was Lam-chen, or Lamrin-chempo, “ The
Stages,” or “ The Great Path ” (to Salvation). This is a very
important work by Tsong Kapa, the founder of the established
Chmch of Tibet, and professes to be a manual that will guide
the disciple along the path that leads to ultimate emancipation ;
but it contains many discussions of the pMlosophic foundations
of Buddhism and gives us an excellent insight into theoretical
as opposed to practical Tibetan Buddhism—Buddhism as it is
supposed to be rather than what it is.

Most of my time was spent in wandering through the dull,
dry pages of Tibetan religious literature, but occasionally I was
able to relax my mind by reading two newspapers published in
English ! These were subscribed to by Sonam as a means of
keeping up the English he had learned in Kalimpong. Both
papers were published in India, by and for Indians, and though
printed in English, were decidedly anti-English and pro-Home
Rule. One was the Bengalee, moderate in tone, of considerable
literary merit, and was most persuasive in its arguments. The
other was the Amrita Bazar Patrika, a most violently seditious
rag full of scurrilous abuse. It is certainly a token of the great
Liberalism of the Indian Government that it allows such a
revolutionary paper to be published.

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

322

It was rather funny that it is these two papers whicl^epre-
sent English literature in Lhasa. Even Sonam wa^j rather
ashamed of the Amrita Bazar Patrika and tried to hide it from
me, though in the end I managed to get hold of it.

Formerly, I was told, the Dalai Lama himself subscribed to
the Statesman and the Englishman, two real English journals
published in Calcutta, but as he was unable to read a word of
them, the subscription was stopped after a while.

The Dalai Lama is also possessed of two or three books in
English about Tibet, and he has had portions of these translated
for his benefit, but he takes very much to heart the criticisms
which have been made regarding his people and their civiliza¬
tion. The Japanese priest Kawaguchi, who managed to get to
Lhasa in disguise, won his intense dislike on account of a
criticism of the character of Padma Sambhava, the wine-
bibbing and sensual founder of Lamaism. I sometimes wonder
what he will think of some of my own remarks about Tibet!

The Tibetan officials in Yatung and Gyangts6, who are more
in touch with the outside world, sometimes forward to Lhasa
foreign comments on Tibetan affairs, and a certain English
official who was in Tibet made himself very unpopular with
the Lhasa Court on account of an article he wrote in a Calcutta
newspaper of the filthiness of the town of Pari. Apart from
the highest Court and official circles, however, Lhasa remains
in complete ignorance of the outside world, and is completely
unconcerned with what this outside world may think or say
of it.

Perhaps the most interesting interludes in my prisoner’s life
were the frequent visits paid me by various Lhasa people.
Through Sonam and Tsarong, a number of persons were
induced to come and see me so as to relieve the monotony.

Among my visitors were a number of priests of a more
liberal turn of mind than the average, who, hearing of my
interest in the study of their religion, came to talk with me.
To one dear old man I became especially attached, and he
came frequently and stayed for hours each time, consuming
incredible quantities of buttered tea, discussing the fine points
of Buddhist metaphysics.

Although completely ignorant of all Western learning—to
Jiim European religion, philosophy, and science were closed

SECRET MEETING WITH DALAI LAMA 323

books—he was a man of great learning from the mediaeval
Tibetari^standpoint. His learning was exactly like that of the
school-men of the Middle Ages. His geography was delightfully
vague. To him the world was a cylinder and the sun and moon
but tiny satellites which revolve round it, but for him such
concrete material things were of little or no importance, for
he was interested in the subtleties of being and non-being, the
nature of substance and the inherence of attributes, and on
these points his knowledge and his views were profound.

But with all his learning, he was as simple as a child, charming
and naive and possessed of an old-world courtesy; sorrowing
over the wickedness of the world, he was full of an unsophisti¬
cated piety that would have put half the saints of aU religions
to shame.

At first he talked of lesser things, of the wheel of life, to which
sentient beings, blinded by lust and ignorance, are attached,
going round and round the cycle of transmigrations until the
power of wisdom and purity sets them free.

But life and the wheel of life all belonged to the sphere of
phenomena, and there would follow long talks on the nature
and the ultimate reality of the phenomenal world, and here
would be expounded and criticized the views of the three m a i n
schools of Buddhist philosophy—^the Sarvastivadins, who were
realists; the Yogacarins, who were idealists; and the
Madhyamikas, who were transcendentalists. To make the
discussion a little more lively, I professed to take the part of
the idealists against the transcendental position of my teacher,
and the old man would grow enthusiastic in showing me the
shallowness of my views, and would come again every two or
three days with fresh arguments and new illustrations.

Weighty texts were needed to clinch a discussion, and the
delightful old philosopher gave to me. his new-found pupil,
many precious manuscripts of the writings of ancient saints
and scholars, Indian and Tibetan. These were indeed priceless
gifts. I had come to Tibet largely in order to procure such
things, and in this way I came into possession of many works
that were otherwise unobtainable.

Printed books I also secured now in large numbers. The
more metaphysical and philosophical books are never kept in
stock in the bookshops, but the old scholar managed to get*

324 TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

several printed of! for me. The wooden blocks for such&ooks
are kept in some of the larger monasteries, and when om wants
a copy of a hook one must bring one’s own paper to the
monastery, and for a small cost the monastery ofScial will have
the paper stamped with the proper blocks, but as I was a
prisoner the old man arranged everything for me.

This old priest was one of the most delightful men it was
ever my privilege to meet an37where in the world. His charm
and the genuineness of the winning simplicity of his character
were in most vivid contrast to the ignorance and boorishness
of the average Tibetan monk ; but I was to find that such
characters as his are occasionally to be found even in the great
Lhasa, monasteries, more particularly among the small group
of monks who have won the coveted Geshd, or Doctor of
Divinity degree.

This degree is the goal of every monk in Tibet, but there are
very few who acquire it, as in nearly all cases it requires twenty
years of study and vast textual knowledge to pass the necessary
exanainations, and in spite of the thousands of monks, I do not
suppose there are more than a hundred real Geshes in the whole
of Tibet.

The Geshd rank is the highest of five stages in the career of
Tibetan monk. When as a boy he enters the monastery he is
merely a novice, or an acolyte. After he has learned to read
and write and has memorized a few pages of ritualistic texts
he wiU gain the rank of Genyd. This is the equivalent to the
title Upasakha which in other Buddhist countries is given to
pious laymen who never enter the monkhood, but who are
known by their devotion and charity to the order. But in
Tibet the laity may not even have this dignity, which has
become a preparatory stage in the priesthood.

Further study and a further examination brings the rank
of Ge-tsu (or Ge-tsul), which in other countries is equivalent
to the novitiate, but in Tibet is a further stage in the hierarchy.
Particularly in the provincial monasteries, many monks never
rise higher than this stage, and a monk of this rank is allowed
to take part in most religious ceremonies.

Another set of examinations and suitable presents to the
monastery officials leads to the rank of Gelong, the full-fledged
monk or priest, capable of performing aU ceremonies, and

SECRET MEETING WITH DALAI LAMA 325

eligible for practically all the offices, elective and nominative,
in the :^onastery. This is as high as the vast majority of the
monks ever go.

Finally come the few who devote themselves to a life of study,
and who, having passed a strict examination and alsa success¬
fully maintained a thesis in the public disputations, are given
the title of Geshe. There are also one or two other scholastic
titles. Theoretically, it is only a monk with the rank of Gesh 4
who can be appointed the kempo {khanpo), or abbot, of a monas¬
tery—^i.e. of a monastery which has an appointed abbot and not
a reincarnating divinity at its head. So many abbots of the
larger monasteries, however, are reincarnations, chosen by lot
as children, that there are comparatively few very high posts
open to a young, ambitious and studious monk who has no
family influence to back him in his social climb. There are,
however, two very high ecclesiastical posts supposed to be
filled on the merit basis alone. One is the Chikyap Kempo, or
Abbot-General, the chief official in the ecclesiastical Court of
the Dalai Lama. This, however, is largely a political and
diplomatic post designed to keep the Dalai Lama in touch with
the great monasteries. A new appointment was made to this
office while I was in Lhasa, the man chosen being a representa¬
tive of the great aristocratic Pala family which at one time
underwent a great deal of persecution on account of its friend¬
liness towards the British authorities.

The other merit post is that of Ti-rimpoch6, the Abbot of
Ganden Monastery, the third of the great trio of monasteries.
Ganden, being the farthest removed from the political intrigues
of Lhasa, has the reputation of having the greatest learning,
and the Ti-rimpoch^ is supposed to be the greatest scholar in
the country. Curiously enough, he is usually appointed from
among the chief scholars of the other monasteries. Most of the
Gesh^s are really learned men, though, unlike my beloved
preceptor, their scholarship is usually more of the letter than of
the spirit. They are loaded down with a verbal knowledge of
the scriptural texts without the slightest idea of what they
mean. But they are the only ones who have any real know¬
ledge of the doctrines of Buddhism. I was surprised at the
colossal ignorance of the average monk—^ignorance concerning
his own religion. This was the more surprising considering

326 TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

the examinations they are supposed to have undergone.*^ Very
few of them could give any clear exposition of what Blddhism
really teaches. They could only repeat a large number of
incantations.

A great many monks in the three great monasteries fail in all
their examinations and become what is known as fighting
monks— dok-dokpa, or temple guardians. They smear their
faces with black grease and spend most of their time in brawling.
It is their number and influence which have given these
monasteries their current reputation for rowdiness.*

* I have decided not to bore my readexs with any discussion of my researches into
Tibetan Buddhism. This subiect will be handled in a subsequent and more technical
work. For a tieatment in Buddhist philosophy in general see my Introduchon io
Mahayana Buddhism and Manual of Buddhist Philosophy,

CHAPTER XXV

MODERNISING LHASA

Kyipup, the boy educated in England, continued to visit me
quite frequently, and both he and Sonam gave me much
interesting information concerning the new Tibetan Post-Of&cq,

From very early times Tibet has been possessed of a Govern-'
ment courier service—^with relays of ponies carrying messengers
from the capital to the most distant provinces. These
messengers were supposed to carry only Government dispatches,
but in some cases they could be bribed to deliver private letters
as well. During the great reforms of the last few years the
Government has sought to transform this old courier service
into a regular postal service, whereby the carrying of
private letters and even packets is legalized. Up to the present
time only twelve post-offices have been opened, the principal
places being Lhasa, Shigats^, Gyangts6, Pari, and various
intermediary points. These places are in the centre of Tibet,
and the outer provinces are stiU covered only by the old
courier system.

The mails are caixied from place to place entirely by pony
relays, but on the whole the service is swift. Gyangts6 lies
some 150 miles away from Lhasa, and letters come through in
about two and a half days.

The Tibetans have printed a very interesting collection of
stamps, and the postal system is supposed to work exactly on
the European scale, but much more frequently letters go
through as the result of a small present to the postman than as
a result of bearing a stamp.

^ Tibet is not, of course, a member of the postal union, and
there is no direct postal connection between Lhasa and the
outside world, but there is a British post-office in the fort of

327

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

328

Gyaiigts6, and there is a Tibetan post-office in the same city,
and provided that one has a friend in Gyangtse to transfer
letters from one post-office to the other, it is possible to send to
and receive letters from England and America while in Lhasa.

I was lucky enough to be able to make the necessary arrange¬
ments, and so was able once or twice to secure longed-for
bundles of letters from home which were waiting for me in
Darjeeling—^but, alas ! amongst them were very urgent notices
tha| my current income-tax was unpaid and information as to
what was going to happen to me in case I did not pay up in ten
-days.

An even more striking instance of the new order of things in
Tibet, rendered aU the more striking because of the continuance
pf the old right alongside of it, is the telegraphic outfit which
" has been installed in the last two years. To be sure, the tele¬
graph line only runs between Lhasa and Gyangtse—150 miles
—^and is very crude, very childish and amateurish, but a real
telegraph system it is. It breaks down every two or three
weeks, but it is soon repaired, and as many as five telegraphic
messages are sent over it every week ! By means of the British-
Indian telegraphic outpost at Gyangts^ it is thus possible for
one to be in almost immediate touch with the outside world,
while living in the most isolated and exclusive city in the
world.

I was interested to learn that the telegraph had been erected
by an executive order of the Cabinet, largely as the result of
Tsarong's influence and without the National Assembly being
consulted. Needless to say, this reactionary body was very
indignant at the new innovation ; but it was even more inter¬
esting to know that this modern invention was used to help in
trying to keep me— a. foreigner—out. It was over the tele¬
graph that the news came that I was thought to be in Tibet in
disguise, and it was over the telegraph that the orders had gone
out to the local officials that search be made for me so that I
could be turned back.

One of the most interesting of my visitors was a man called
Champela. He has had rather an interesting experience.
Although of pure Tibetan extraction, he spent his boyhood in
Darjeeling and became thoroughly acquainted with the
English language and customs. Owing to his brightness he

MODERNISING LHASA

329

was given a good post in a bank. Then something went wrong,
accounts%:ould not be squared—and Champela, knowing that
extradition laws do not apply in Tibet, fled to Lhasa, where he
found Government employment on account of his knowledge
of foreign customs. He incidentally became official translator
and interpreter to the Government when at length it became
necessary for someone in Lhasa to know English.

Year after year he has remained in Lhasa, always desiring
to retmm to Darjeeling, but the fear of prison kept him away.
A year or two ago, through the magnanimous clemency of Sir
Charles Bell, he received a pardon for the long-ago-committed
and half-forgotten crime, but he is now an old man, terrified
by the thought of the long journey back to India, and so his
departure is postponed month after month, and will probably
be postponed year after year until he dies still planning his
return to the place of his boyhood.

The yoimger brother of Champela, called Karma Suburm, had
been my Tibetan teacher in Darjeehng. I had found him a
man of unusual intelligence, one of the few Orientals capable
of teaching his own language, and so in spite of past deeds I
had looked forward to meeting Champela, and I was not
disappointed. A mild, meek, humorous little man he was,
who had led the most upright of lives since the crash of his
youth. He was one of the most genuinely kindly of men I
have ever met. His numerous acts of courtesy made my stay
in Lhasa doubly pleasant. At the same time he was one of
the few men in Lhasa, apart from Tsarong, who took an
intelligent interest in the public affairs of his own country and
who was full of reliable information. It was surprising to
find how few Tibetans, even officials, had any idea as to the
details of the country's administration, and in many cases,
when I had sought everywhere else for information, I had in
the end to go to Champela to secure what I wanted.

Two or three of the things he said were worth recording.
I was amused to find out from him particulars of the large
number of letters which the Dalai Lama receives from private
persons in England and America. For the most part such
persons assure His Holiness of then: rigid adherence to his
creed, their acceptance of his divinity, and their knowledge of
the fact that he is a Mahatma, one of the great hidden

330

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

personalities who direct the course of evolution all over the
world. The writer then adds that, as he is different from
the average materialistic Westerner, he would be pleased if
the Dalai Lama would permit him to come to Lhasa and
study the ultimate mysteries in the home of the secret
doctrine. In some cases the writer backs up his plea by
stating that he met His Holiness during the latter’s stay in
Peking or Darjeeling.

It is the duty of Champela to translate all such letters into
Tibetan, and they are duly read by the Dalai Lama, but no
reply, not even an official acknowledgment, is ever vouchsafed.
They are merely stored away and forgotten.

A similar fate used to attend official communications—
letters sent by representatives of the Indian Government; the
Younghusband Expedition had as its proximate cause the fact
that a letter from the Viceroy was returned unopened. But
the humiliation of Tibet as a result of that expedition taught
the Dalai Lama a lesson. More particularly has the effort of
his Government to maintain the independence won from China
in 1912 taught him to seek support from India, and to-day all
communications sent by the Indian Government, usually
through the Political Officer in Sikkim, receive prompt atten¬
tion, and a courteous, even though sometimes evasive, answer
is very promptly dispatched.

I was glad to learn from Champela something more concern¬
ing the relationship between the Dalai and the Trashi Lama.
Politically the power of the Dalai Lama far overshadows that
of his colleague in Shigats^, but religiously the potentates are
supposed to rank as equals. I had always supposed that for
this reason it was always found more convenient for the two
highest incarnations of divinity in Tibet never to meet, but it
seems that interviews between the two do occasionally take
place. Only two years previously the Trasha Lama had paid
a State visit to Lhasa and had been entertained by the Dalai
Lama.

Tibetan etiquette has it that though the two rulers are
equal as touching their divinity, yet they take precedence over
one another in respect to their seniority as regards the flesh.
As the present Dalai Lama is a few years older than the
present Trashi Lama, the Lhasa ruler is able to lord it over his

MODERNISING LHASA 331

rival. This is probably one reason why the Trashi Lama was
invited to Lhasa.

It is the duty of the Dalai Lamas to consecrate new Trashi
Lamas, and of the Trashi Lamas to consecrate new Dalai
Lamas, and supposedly all is goodwill and love between them.
Actually, however, there is always bitter rivalry between the
two Courts, and in the present instance the Dalai Lama has a
strong sense of animosity against the Trashi Lama on account
of certain events of the last few years. It is well known that
personally the Trashi Lama is a dreamer, a religious recluse
who takes little interest in political affairs. But no doubt
just for this reason he has been made a cat's-paw for other
interested parties.

In 1904, when the Dalai Lama, as a result of the Young-
husband Expedition, fled to Mongolia, the Chinese officials
resident in Lhasa declared him deposed and pronounced the
Trashi Lama the supreme ruler of the country. In spite of
this fact, the Dalai Lama managed, by further negotiations
with the Peking authorities direct, to come back to Lhasa in
triumph, and the Trashi Lama sank back to second place.
But in 1910 the Chinese oflicials discovered the Dalai Lama
was not subservient enough to suit them, so a Chinese army
invaded the country, as has been previously related, and when
the Dalai Lama fled to India he was once more declared
deposed, and stripped of his divinity in favour of the Trashi
Lama, who, though nominally the supreme ruler possessed of
all the privileges enjoyed by the Dalai Lama, was but a mere
puppet.

The Tibetan rebellion of 1912, which brought independence
from China, meant also the return of the Dalai Lama, and the
Trashi Lama only too willingly gave back the seals of office;
but the Dalai Lama has never forgiven the usurpation of his
power by his Shigats^ rival, and has ever since subjected him
to various minor persecutions.

These were borne for many years with great patience, but
quite recently, since my return from Tibet, the news has come
through that at last the Trashi Lama has sought refuge in flight,
escaping either to Mongolia or China, probably the latter.

This will very likely mean further trouble in the future.
The Chinese have never resigned their claims to suzerainty oygr

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

332

Tibet, and have resolutely refused to admit the claims of the
Dalai Lama Government. They have only been waiting for a
favourable opportunity to attempt once more to overrun the
country. The Trashi Lama will be a valuable puppet in their
hands. They will be able to claim they invade Tibet only in
order to restore the Shigatse potentate to his rightful position,
and the Trashi Lama has many devout adherents throughout
the country. The Dalai Lama will have to look out for treachery
from within as well as prepare against invasion from abroad ;
more particularly as the great modernist and Europeanizing
tendency of the Dalai Lama’s Court as at present constituted
and its friendship with the Indian Government have won the
ill-will of many monks even inside the Lhasa monasteries—
Drepung particularly has always been pro-Chinese—so that we
can see, in spite of the present calm, Tibet is full of the
seeds of unrest.

Incidentally it may be added that it is almost certain that the
Indian Government will continue its pohcy, pursued for several
years past, of favouring the Dalai Lama at the expense of the
Trashi Lama.

Two or three young tsifdn, or Treasury officials, also came to
see me, and from them I learned that the Tibetan Government
also had its financial embarrassments.

The trouble is that most of the Government officials become
very wealthy, while the Government remains very poor.
Nominally the officials of every rank receive only a tiny salary,
on the theory that as all the officials are chosen from the very
wealthy families they do not require large emolument, but wiU
be willing to donate their services to the State. But in point
of fact the salary is the smallest portion of the income from any
post. The acceptance of bribes, or “ squeeze,” is the openly-
recognized order of the day, and a great deal of money that
should really go into the Government cofiers as taxes finds its
way into the private pockets of the officials. When even this
proves insufficient, an official can generally secure a ^ant of
land from the Government which brings in quite a tidy income.

The Governors of the fifty-three provinces into which Tibet
is divided levy a family-tax and a land-tax—-the land-tax being
usually collected in kind, consisting of a varying percentage of
the crop—^but very httle of the money raised in this way is ever

MODERNISING LHASA 333

available for the needs of the Central Government, for not only
is much of the land owned by the monasteries free from taxa¬
tion, but out of the tax-money the Government is forced to
grant a small annual subsidy to the monks of the great Lhasa
monasteries.

A good deal of the cash for the current purposes of the Lhasa
Government comes from three other sources : a tax on wool, a
tax on salt, both levied according to quantity, and finally the
profits from the Mint. The Tibetans have found their Mint
a very paying proposition, owing to the debased coinage which
they issue and force the people to accept. In addition to the
more common copper coins, none of which is worth its face
value, a number of silver coins used to be issued : a i-trangka
coin, a coin worth 3I trangkas, a coin worth 6| trangkas, as well
as a gold coin worth 133J trangkas ; but with the march of .
civilization the Tibetans—or rather Tsarong Shap6, who is
Master of the Mint—^has found that it is cheaper to print paper
money than to issue silver coins, and so now Tibet has also a
paper currency with notes of 10, 15, and 25 trangkas. No
wonder that in place of the old single Mint Tibet has now three
Mints, and is establishing a fourth in the Chumbi Valley ! One
can guess to what lengths this debasement of the currency may
go on before it results in a financial smash.

Tsarong no doubt sees this danger, and is trying to strengthen
the financial standing of the Government by a very bold move.
This is no other than a law to force the lands owned by the
monasteries and the privileged nobility to pay their fair share
of the taxes. The great aristocratic families have been accumu¬
lating wealth for many centuries past, storing it up in their
hidden treasuries. Tsarong is very keen to institute a levy on
this idle capital, and also to establish the equivalent of a sliding-
scale income tax. How depressing it is to feel that even in far-
off Tibet one is not free from the dominating financial slogans
of the day.

Tsarong is naturally very keen on increasing the taxes, as his
new army, created since 1912, demands a great deal of money.
A number of the reforms which he is proposing will also require
a large amount of fresh capital.

The treasury and income of the Dalai Lama is, of course, kept
quite apart from that of the State. In addition to privately-

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

334

owned lands and other sources of steady income, the Dalai
Lama is annually in receipt of many valuable presents of great
financial worth in the form of free-will offerings. His yearly
income, therefore, is, and has been for a long time, greatly in
excess of his expenditure. The Tibetans have no conception
of investing their money. Their only way of saving it is by
hiding it in the ground. Consequently, year after year, large
sums of money are added to the great pontifical treasury
in the heart of the hill on which the Potala is built. By all
accounts the hidden coffers of the palace must constitute a
veritable treasure-hoard. Each year the stock is added to, and
there is a great prejudice against taking anything out. The only
record of any diminution of this supply was in 1910, when the
Dalai Lama fled to India, taking with him sufficient money to
Jast for many years of exile. But since his return the money
has been more than replaced.

There was a great deal of excitement in Lhasa during the
early part of my stay there, over a fire which broke out in the
Potala. By a curious coincidence, I had been asking about
fires in Lhasa only a short time before the conflagration, and
though the Potala was a mile away and I was known to be in
Sonam’s apartments the whole time, some people wondered
if my dark influence did not have something to do with the
accident. Fortunately the idea did not spread, or I should
probably have had a bad time of it.

Owing to the fact that so little wood is used in the construc¬
tion of houses in Tibet, there are comparatively few serious
fires. Generally they are extinguished in the early stages
either by buckets of water or else by buckets of the coarse
soda which is found near many lake-beds. This seems to be
the earHest-known form of fire-extinguisher.

In the present instance it was only one wing of the Potala
which was damaged, and this affected only the interior of a
few rooms. These were not the apartments of the Dalai Lama,
but of the special ecclesiastical school which is housed in the
great palace.

It will be remembered that there are a large number of monk
officials inside the secular Government of Tibet, e.g. that there
is a priest Governor as well as a lay Governor of each province.
These monk officials are not chosen, for the most part, from

MODERNISING LHASA

335

amongst the members of minor officials of the great monas¬
teries, but are priests who have reached a special preliminary
training in the Tsetrung College. They enter the school as
youngsters, and on graduation receive some minor appointment
and then work up the official ladder.

The lay officials have no such preliminary training-college.
They usually learn to read and write the official language by
means of private tutors, often monks, and then by influence
are selected as assistants in the Tsikang (Finance or Treasury
Office), where they learn to cook accounts in the time-honoured
way, and are then appointed to real official posts.

The Chinese introduced the Tibetans to a system of gradation
in official rank, giving even to Tibetan officials the equivalent
of Chinese stages in officialdom. Since the forced departure
of the Chinese these gradations have fallen into a good deal of
confusion, but there can still be distinguished seven stages in
the official ladder.

The lowest stages are the seventh and sixth ranks, held by
junior officials just starting on their career or without sufficient
influence to secure promotion. The Dzongpons, or Governors
of the fifty ordinary provinces, are of the fifth rank; to the
fourth rank belong the Governors of the three special provinces,
the Depons, or generals in the army, and such special officials
as the Kenchung in Gyangtse, who has charge of negotiations
with the Indian Government.

Above this there is more confusion, as the Tibetans could
not aspire to the highest Chinese ranks, but in the recognized
hierarchy it may be said that those persons who have the
titles of nobility known as Teiji and Dzasa, and Ta-Lama, are
of the third rank, the sha^pis, or ministers, as well as the
Lonchen, or Prime Minister, are of the second rank, while the
Dalai Lama is himself of the first rank.

One of my most interesting visitors was the head of the
Mohammedan inhabitants of Lhasa. Although Lhasa is the
centre of the intolerant Tibetan Buddhist monks, there are
two mosques, or Mohammedan places of worship, in the city,
though both of them are exclusively for the use of the few
foreigners who are allowed to enter Lhasa., One of them is
the Chinese mosque, for quite a number of the Chinese
merchants who used to have the privilege of coming to Lhasa

336 TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

were followers of Islam, but since 1912 this congregation has
fallen on evil days.

The other mosque used by the Mohammedan trafl.ers from
far-away Kashmir and Ladak, in the west, is stiU in a flourishing
condition, and has, so my visitor told me, about two hundred
members. These Moslems are aU Indians, and though the
Koran is read aloud in the original Arabic at the Friday
services, this is practically unintelligible to most of the auditors,
and so there follows a commentary in Urdu, the language
spoken by most of the Indian Moslems. My visitor added,
sadly, that many of the congregation were very slack and paid
only scanty attention to the Islamic rules of diet and prescribed
times of prayer, and that there was but little real learning in
the Prophet’s lore among the Lhasa followers.

I was much interested to learn something of the status of
these Mohammedans and the other foreigners who are per¬
mitted to reside in Lhasa. Tibet has always been very
erratic and inconsistent in her long-contrived policy of
exclusion. In spite of her vindictive refusal to allow strangers
to pollute her soil, a certain number of foreigners have always
found entry. Quite naturally, the Sikkimese and the Bhuta¬
nese have generally been permitted to go and come at wdll, for
these people are really Tibetans living on the south side of the
Himalayas. Mongolians, i.e. the inhabitants of Mongolia,
have also entry, for the religion and institutions of Mongolia
are the same as those of Tibet. But in addition to these, a
limited number of Chinese, Nepalese, and Kashmiris escape
the ban of exclusion. Before 1912 there were a number of
Chinese ofiicials and soldiers placed in Lhasa, and also a number
of Chinese merchants, though the Chinese authorities them¬
selves, in deference to Tibetan prejudices, limited the number
of Chinese who could come to Lhasa, and general immigration
into Tibet was strictly prohibited. Since 1912 the Chinese
officials have disappeared and with them most of the Chinese
merchants, only a tiny number of special exceptions, mostly
petty traders from the south of China, being permitted to stay,
and for the Chinese in general Tibet is now as much the forbidden
land as it is to the European,

But there is still a considerable Nepalese community in
Lhasa, and Nepal keeps a minister, or Consul-General, there.

MODERNISING LHASA

337

Most of the skilled artisans, metal-workers, and craftsmen are
Nepalese?! They enjoy certain extra-territorial privileges, and
in most cases, when in default, are tried by their Consul and
not by the ordinary Tibetan Coiuts.

I met only some four oi five of the Nepalese while I was in
Lhasa, but one of them proved very helpful to me. He was
somewhat acquainted with the mysteries of photography, and
while I was cooped up as a prisoner he went round the city and
took several pictures for me.

The Kashmiri Mohammedans constitute the only other group
of foreigners in Lhasa. What is so strange is that, though these
Kashmiris by long-established custom are permitted to come
to the Sacred City, other Indians, whether Hindu or Moham¬
medan, are not. A man from Kashmir is permitted to go from
Lhasa to Darjeeling and return, but he is not allowed to bring
back with him a cousin who may live in Darjeeling.

Not only Indians, but all other Orientals—Japanese, Siamese,
Burmese, Ceylonese, etc.—as well as Europeans, are rigidly
excluded.

These Kashmiris are British subjects, and my visitor, the
leading man of the community, had been given the title of
Khan Bahadur by the Indian Government, and as no European
is permitted to reside in LhavSa, he is more or less the unofficial
representative of the Indian Government there. All diplo¬
matic negotiations, however, pass not through his hands, but
are conducted either by correspondence or through meetings
of the Kenchung and the British Trade Agents, or the Political
Officer of Sikkim, at Gyangtse,

Another mixed nationality presented itself a few days later
in the person of a fat and jovial merchant who was a Sharpa
(often pronounced ''Sherpa'J. The Sharpas are persons of
Tibetan blood, speaking a Tibetan dialect, who reside in Nepal,
in contrast to the Nepalese proper, who are a mixed people,
but of predominating Indian blood and speaking an Indian
language. The Sharpas live quite apart from the Nepalese,
in little isolated valleys, thickly wooded, just south of the
Himalayan Mountains. Formerly they owed allegiance only
to Tibet, but of recent years the Nepalese Government has
insisted upon its territorial rights and sends an official each year
to the Sharpa villages to collect taxes. Apart from this, the
y

338 TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

Sharpas are left very much to themselves, and on local matters,
according to my Sharpa friend, are practically autanomous.
They are divided into nine groups each ruled over by a chief,
an office which seems to be largely hereditary, though not
necessarily so. The people are all Lamaistic Buddhists. In
recent years a reformed, or yellow-hat, temple has been erected,
but all the other temples belong to the old, unreformed red-
hat group. As far as I could find out, the Sharpa territory
has never been visited by any European, but of recent years
a number of Sharpas have found their way to Darjeeling,
where they have proved to make very useful and reliable
" servants.

My Sharpa friend, who is now one of the leading merchants
in Lhasa, paid me several visits, but I remember particularly
“'**well the first time he called. He had been in India, and thought
he was weU acquainted with the tastes of the sahibs,'" so he
brought as an introductory present (one must always take
presents when one calls in Tibet) two bottles of brandy. It
so happened that I was feeling particularly unwell when he
came and did not feel equal to the strain of a long conversation,
and so I sent my apologies and told '' Satan " and Lhaten to
entertain him for me in the next room.

In order to help out the party I ordered that the two bottles
of brandy which my new friend had brought be opened and
served. I had forgotten the amiable disposition of Satan "
when under the influence of any drink stronger than chang, but
I was soon to be reminded of it.

For a while, of course, things went very well. Songs, jokes,
and laughter followed in quick succession, but at the end of the
first bottle'' Satan " took exception to a witticism of the visitor
and a violent quarrel began. At first it was a question of
words, then it came to blows, and here the Sharpa, though none
too sober himself, proved more than a match for '' Satan," so
" Satan " seized his sword and made a savage lunge at his
adversary, inflicting a nasty-looking wound, though it proved
to be nothing serious. Everyone now joined in the fray, trying
to keep the two principals apart, but things seemed to go from
bad to worse until, ill as I was, I staggered into the next room,
and by slashing " Satan " in the face with my pony-whip
brought him to his senses.

MODERNISING LHASA 339

The Sharpa was a very important man in Lhasa, and if he
had been lolled by “ Satan ” (as we thought for a time he was)
there would have been very serious consequences, not only for
“ Satan,” but also for me. Even as it was, I was afraid our
visitor would be mortally offended, so I gave him an elaborate
apology and invited him to dinner the next day. Fortunately
he was a very jovial soul, and thereafter he came frequently
and we became fast friends.

I was afraid to dismiss " Satan ” for fear he might cause
trouble with the hostile elements in Lhasa, and incite them to a
further attack against me. But I gave him a long harangue
and insisted upon his finding quarters elsewhere, as I could not
have Sonam’s apartment upset by his drunken sprees. The
Lhasa crowd had now somewhat abated, and he found no great
difficulty in securing accommodation with a young and rather ■
attractive grass-widow.

Here a romance of true Tibetan fashion developed. “ Satan ”
already shared a wife in Darjeelmg with another priest, but he
now determined to leave the way of polyandry for that of mono¬
gamy. He wrote a letter to the Darjeeling woman announcing
that he gave up all claims on her—^this was his idea of a divorce
—and immediately constituted himself the spouse of the young
lady in Lhasa, who, in return for his affections, gave him free
board and lodgings—though he continued to draw living-
allowance from me. The union was without benefit of clergy,
for " Satan ” was a priest, and in Tibet a little loose living on
the part of the priests is more excusable than a legal wife. He
tried to keep all knowledge of the affair away from me, though
of course I heard all about it, but as both parties were satisfied,
I felt that it was none of my business. I was glad to hear,
however, that the lady was said to be more than his equal in
temper and vindictiveness.

There can be no doubt that the moral life of Tibet is of a
low order. This has nothing to do with polyandry, for both
polygamy and polyandry can be quite in keeping with a strict
moral code; but in urban Tibet, particularly in Lhasa, even
among the upper classes, there is a good deal of moral laxness,
both amongst the men and women. A great many of the Lhasa
women are prostitutes, and in all lay circles adultery is regarded
as a minor offence. Curiously enough, the real cause of this is,

340

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

I think, the ideal of absolute celibacy instilled by the Church.
Theoretically the only true moral life is a life oti absolute
sexual abstinence, and if a person is unable to live up to thic;
standard it makes little difference what he or she does, “ it is
as weU be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb.”

On the evening of March 13, after the great Maitreya festival,
the monks began to leave Lhasa in great numbers. The two
Lords of Misrule handed their authority back to the ordinary
civil officials. Large numbers of pilgrims returned to their
native hearths, and by the next day the population of Lhasa
had sunk back to its normal size. After the huge crowds to
' which I was accustomed, it seemed almost deserted.

With the departure of the monks most of the danger from
attack was gone and my prisonership was relaxed. Without
—waiting for formal permission to do so, I began to leave the
courtyard and to wander around the city and its environs,
though always, of course, in Tibetan clothes and with my face
muffled up so as not to attract too much attention. Very
refreshing it was to feel once more at liberty.

Several times I went around the great Outer Circle, a
parallel to the Inner Circle. This Outer Circle is a pathway
which encircles the whole of the city of Lhasa, as well as the
College of Medicine and the Potala, and is, of course, frequently
circumambulated by pilgrims. Near the eastern side of the
Outer Circle are to be seen the curious huts made of horns and
mud in which are housed the ruffian outcasts of the city, who,
in addition to begging and pilfering, arc the scavengers and
the corpse-cutters of the city. In former years they were
very turbulent and caused the city authorities a great deal of
trouble, but now the strong measures of Tsarong, backed by
his army, have very considerably checked their power.

During my numerous excursions nearly all the great sights
in and around Lhasa were seen and re-seen. The cathedral,
the four lings, Ramoche, Norbu Linga (the private palace of the
Dalai Lama, about a mile west of the Potala), and the home
of the Lhasa oracle, a magnificent building, or rather group of
buildings, lying not far away from Drepung.

But quite as interesting to see and to visit as these places
were the staUs and shops constituting the Lhasa market,
wl,iich lay around the Inner Circle and on the adjoining streets.

MODERNISING LHASA

341

The stalls were even more nucnerous than the shops. Most
of these ^alls had umbrellas or awnings over them to protect
the traders and their customers from the fierce heat of the
midday sun. It was interesting to note the large number of
stalls kept by women, for women play a large part not only
in the social but also the economic life of the country. Some
of the smaller articles were sold at fixed prices, but for the more
valuable articles there was always interminable bargaining
and haggling before anything could be sold.

In the larger shops, many of them kept by Nepalese or
Kashmiri merchants, were sold woollen and silken clothes,
and a little—a very little—cotton. The wool, of course, came
from Tibet, while most of the silk came from China. People
never buy their clothes ready-made in Tibet, but procure the
material and then have their private tailors make them up.*
Hats of all shapes, designs, and colours, there were. Apart
from the oificials, the Tibetans never seem to have hit upon a
national head-dress. The women, of course, never use any
hats whatever, owing to the elaborate fartuk, or head-decora¬
tion, which they wear, but in recent years the men have taken
to wearing European felt hats, which look very much out of
place with the rest of their outfit.

Other shops housed the sellers of precious stones, chiefly
coral and turquoise, for the Tibetans prize these above every¬
thing else, and good specimens fetch fabulous prices.

Many of the stalls were devoted to religious emblems—
prayer-wheels, bells, rosaries, little portable charm-boxes
containing images, butter-lamps, and offering-bowls; other
stalls sold only tea-bowls, mostly of wood, and at a few chop¬
sticks were procurable, for though the peasants eat with their
fingers, the nobility have learned the use of chopsticks from the
Chinese; but knives and forks I saw none, though many
steel daggers and short swords were in evidence.

Food stuffs were a very important item of merchandise, and
the sellers of brick-tea of various qualities, but nearly all
imported from China, did a roaring business.

Tibet's boycott of foreign people does not apply to foreign
goods, and quite a number of articles were on .sale which had
been brought back from Kalimpong. These included scissors,
cheap looking-glasses (a great favourite with the peasant-

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

342

women from the country, many of whom had never gazed on
their own beauty before), matches, candles, and an occasional
box of highly-perfumed soap.

The matches and candles have made a real conquest of
Lhasa, as they are so much more convenient than their respec¬
tive Tibetan protot3rpes, tinder-box and butter-lamp. The
presence of the soap was very surprising considering the known
filthiness of the Tibetan, but I found that very little of it is
used for washing purposes. The peasants like to smear it on
their bodies as an additional precaution against the cold and
because of its pleasant smell. I even heard of cases where
this perfumed soap was placed on family altars as a cheap and
more lasting substitute for incense.

The international trade of Tibet is, of course, very small.
Miscellaneous foodstufis (chiefly tea), materials for clothing
(chiefly silk and hats), and various metals and manufactures
from metals, such as copper for the Mint, knives, and other
tools, etc., form the principal imports.

The principal export is wool, followed at a great distance by
furs and by musk—^the musk-deer of Eastern Tibet are very
famous—a certain amount of borax from the lake-beds also
finds its way down to India, chiefly through Nepal, while
quite a number of mules, ponies, sheep, and goats are also
sent to foreign markets.

There are three main trade-routes connecting Lhasa with the
outside world s one goes to Peking in China, passing through
Tachienlu, though this route, formerly the one most used, is
largely blocked owing to the hostilities which exist between
Tibet and China. The second route goes from Lhasa through
Shigatse to distant Ladak and Kashmir. At one time this was
of great importance, but is less so now, owing to the great dis¬
tance to be covered. The third, and now the greatest, trade-
route is that which runs from Lhasa through Gyangts^, Pari,
Yatung, and the Chumbi Valley to Kalimpong. This seems
to be the line along which Tibet’s trade-stream now seems to
flow, though I am convinced that a much more natural outlet
into India would be from Kampa Dzong down the Tista Valley.
This would do away with the terribly-steep ascent and descent
of the Jelap Pass, for along the Tista Valley route a cart, and
even motor, road could easily be made.

MODERNISING LHASA

343

So easy, in fact, is the ascent that it should prove no insuper¬
able dif&culty even to the railroad builder, and certainly, once
arrived St the Tibetan plateau, the building of a railroad across
the plains would be a comparatively easy matter. But it is
doubtful if any such project will be carried out for many years
to come. Quite apart from the continued desire of the people
for rigid isolation, it is doubtful whether the present resources of
Tibet would warrant the expense. Tibet can never be a great
agricultural country, and though its wool and livestock trade
could be enormously increased under favourable conditions,
these alone would hardly excite the interest of the railroad
builder.

Finally comes the question of Tibet's mineral resources. All
adequate development of these has been greatly hindered by the
religious superstitions of the monks, who claim that to delve
into the earth is to disturb the subterranean demons and dS3
stroy the crops and the people. In spite of this, however, the
Tibetans themselves have opened up a number of gold-mines,
chiefly placer mining, which can be operated without undue
damage to the prejudice against digging. Some of these gold¬
mines have been operating for the last century or two, though,
of course, on a small scale and with very crude and rough
methods. Many of the mines have proved paying propositions,
but as yet no great mother-lode of gold has been discovered.

Tibet is full of iron ore, and this will probably be developed
in the future. No great deposits of coal are known to exist,
but many persons claim that great oil-wells are hidden under
some of the plains. This claim is largely due to reasoning by
analogy, because no borings have as yet been made.

Another great source of interest to me, in the days following
my release, was to go out to the Settam Plain and watch the
soldiers of the new army hard at work at their training and
drilling. The new army, of which mention has already been
made, is entirely the result of the independence which Tibet
achieved in igi 2 . The Dalai Lama was insistent that a strong
army be organized to maintain the newly-won independence
and also to secure internal order. The Younghusband Expedi¬
tion taught him the immense superiority of European
tactics and equipment; consequently, in the creation of the
new Tibetan corps, the British Army served as the model/

344

TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

Theoretically every family with more than one son can be
called upon to send one to serve in the army, but this system
is not yet enforced, owing to lack of equipment,^ money,
and accommodation, and up to the present time the soldiers
form a special professional class, increasing every year in
numbers.

There are already engineermg, transport, cavalry, and
artillery units, though the artillery has as yet only some light
mountain-guns. The greatest attention, however, has been
paid to the infantry.

The infantry is armed with Lee-Enheld long rifles and short
bayonets, and the uniform and equipment resemble those of the
British—khaki cap, tunic, trousers and puttees, with the
exception that some battalions wear a sort of turban instead
of the service cap. In the winter fur caps arc issued. Regi-
iflental badges are being adopted after the British style, but of
Tibetan design. Battalions arc distinguished by numbers
(Tibetan numerals) cut out of coloured cloth and sewn on
the sleeves just below the shoulder-straps. N.C.O.s are
distinguished by strips on the sleeve after the British fashion.
Officers wear the British-pattern tunic with collar and tic, Sam
Browne belt, breeches and puttees, leggings, or field-boots.
Rank is indicated by badges on the shoulder-straps.

Some of the battalions have bands which play, as we have
seen, British tunes. The perfonnance of at least some of these
was very creditable.

The organization of the infantry battalions is that of four
double companies with sixteen platoons, and the officers and
N.C.O.s are correspondingly distributed.

Machine-gunnery is being practised, and the Lewis-gun has
been adopted, and this, on account of its portability, is well
adapted to the country.

The Tibetan troops parade well and seem to be keen on their
work, which includes everything from squad drill to manoeuvres
across the fields, musketry, and signalling with flags and
heliograph. Altogether they provide evidence of excellent
material for the shaping of a most formidable force which may
well give a good account of itself should future necessity arise.

The weakest points in the service, as far as I could see, were
the officers. They were all recruited from amongst the rather

MODERNISING LHASA 345

degenerate Lhasa nobility, few of whom seemed to possess
ordinary physical courage.

Some 0} the guns and uniforms were imported direct from
India, while others were manufactured in Lhasa in exact
imitation of the European models. Those things which were
imported from India were secured with the knowledge and
consent of the Indian Government.

The Tibetan Army has also learned much of its drill from
English commissioned and Indian non-commissioned officers.
None of these, of course, has been allowed to come to Lhasa.
But it wiU be remembered that the British keep a mihtary
outpost at Gyanglse, and the Tibetan Government has arranged
to station various groups of her soldiers in Gyangtse in order
that they might see and copy the English tactics. Of recent
years an arrangement has been come to whereby the British
officers are allowed to give the Tibetan soldiers direct courses*
of instructions. When one group of soldiers has been fairly
well trained, it is brought back to Lhasa and a fresh batch
sent down to Gyangtse.

Considering the great indebtedness in which Tibet stands to
the British in this respect, it is surprising that Lhasa has not
become more open to the British. It will be remembered
that, when our first party came to Gyangts6 and asked for
permission to proceed to Lhasa, they had come as a body
recognized, even though not directly supported, by the
British-Indian Government. Their object in wanting to pay
a visit to Lhasa was an entirely friendly one—and yet a
decisive refusal was given them. My own subsequent secret
]oumey through Tibet was, of course, entirely and absolutely
a private venture, and was undertaken without the sanction or
even the knowledge of the Indian Government.

Of great interest, however, is the attitude of the British
Government towards the Governments of China and Tibet.
England and China are on friendly terms. China has never
recognized the independence of Tibet and refuses to do so, and
will, as soon as mihtary conditions permit, once more invade
the country. It is largely for this reason that Tibet is preparing
her new army.

Officially England is entirely neutral on the dispute between
China and Tibet. Probably it would be officially declared

346 TO LHASA IN DISGUISE

that England would like to see an autonomous Tibet under
the technical suzerainty of China, and undoubtedly many
officials in the Diplomatic Service of England hav^Tvery pro-
Chinese sympathies in the matter; but certainly the India
Office, while maintaining its neutrality, manages to make it a
very benevolent neutrality in favour of Tibet. The Indian
Government would probably hke to see Tibet an independent
buffer state, not entirely devoid of British sympathies and^
influence, and so, while the Indian Government refuses to
recognize the D a Lama’s claim of independence from China,
it has placed r afficulties in the way of allowing the Dalai
Lama so to h ase his power and his fighting forces that
China will be unable to enforce her claim over Tibet.
Certainly diplomacy is a very marvellous affair, and as the
result of diplomacy we are lilcely to see some very interesting
•developments in Asia in the next few years.

Almost every day of my long stay in Lhasa brought forth
some new item of interest, but I was already looking forward
to the time when I could return to India on my way back to
England. My leave of absence had long since expired, urgent
business called mo back, and my health continued to be very
unsatisfactory, and so at last I asked the Kashak for permission
to depart.

I am sure that most of the Tibetan officials were very glad
to get rid of so troublesome a visitor, but a large number of
details cropped up which prevented my leaving, and in the
end I had to bring a good deal of pressure to bear before the
Government would give me my official papers which would
allow me to make my way back to India in safety.

But in the end, not only was I given the necessary papers,
but I was also supplied with transport animals to take the
place of my own animals which had died, and was given
permits which allowed me to stay at all Government rest-
houses en route. Finally I was given an armed escort, probably
to safeguard against further escapades, but also to see that no
attack was made on me by a fanatic.

Eventually, March 24 was chosen as the day of departure,
and on the morning of that day a number of my new-found
friends gathered to see me off and to load me down with
parting presents. Long and elaborate farewells took up

MODERNISING LHASA 347

the whole mormng, and it was afternoon before I could
get off.

For tj\e first few days the road coincided with that over
which I had come to Lhasa, but after reaching Yas 61 continued
along the highway to Gyangtse, reaching that city on Good
Friday and leaving on Easter, April i. Thereafter I went over
the old Gyangtsd-Pari route down to the Chumbi Valley, and
at Yatung (reached April 7, for I was travelling double stages)
I naet my old friend Mr. MacDonald, the Trade Agent, who
was as jovial and hospitable as ever. How delightful it was
to see known faces once more ! I also met there two charming
English men. Dr. Bishop and Mr. Easton, of Calcutta, who had
had special permission to come as far as Yatung, and witfi
them I travelled back to India.

A very merry party we made of it. On the i6th of April
we arrived in Kalimpong, and I was back in British India at
last. That same day I went on to Peshok to be the guest of
Major Bailey, the Political Officer in Sikkim. We had a
number of things to talk over, as I was sorry to find that my
little escapade had quite unintentionally caused the Indian
Government a good deal of trouble; but business matters
having been settled. Major Bailey once more became the
charming and cultured host, and amused the party that night
by tales of his own most interesting adventures.

The next day (April 17) was a most memorable one, because
it was then that I reached Darjeeling and rejoined my good
friends Knight, Ellam, and Fletcher.

The Tibetan adventure was at last at an end, but I had still
with me vivid memories of the Sacred City, the far-off and
Forbidden Abode of the Gods, to which in the end I had
penetrated in spite of every obstacle, and these memories were
worth aU the terrible hardships which the journey had cost.

THE ENr®

INDEX

Alcoholic liquor in Tibet, 177, 191
Antelopes, 102-103
Army of Tibet, 15, 290-291, 318-319
-^ organisation of, 343"3^15

Bailey, Major I. M, 38, 39-41, 347
Bell, Sir Charles, 15, 40
Bhutan, customs of, 43
—, history of, 38-39
Bodhisattva, A, 54
Brahmaputra River, 61,149, 200, 202
Buddhism, customs in connection
with, 127-128, 165-166, 173-178,
282-283

—, introduction into Tibet, 125
—, origin of, 285
—, sects of, 227, 250
Burial customs, 178-179
Burton, Sir Francis, 247
Butter, use of, 127-128

Cabinet, the Tibetan, 299-302
Caravans, 145, 171
Castles of Tibet, 114-117
Cliaksam ferry, the, 240, 241-242
Champela, 328

China, suzerainty of, in Tibet, 15, 52,
103 , 178. 251. 308, 331-332
Chumbi, Monastery of, 43
—, Oracle of, 43, 44
—, Valley of, 20, 27, 35, 36, 37
Chumolhari, Mount, 46
Chusul, 243-244

Class-distinct!on in Tibet, 204-205
Coinage, Tibetan, in, 112, 333
Curfew jn Lhasa, 273

Dak-bungalows, 30

Dalai Lama, 14, 23, 235, 289

-, chai’acteristics, 306-307

-, history of, 307-310

-, popular belief in omnipo¬
tence of, 239

-status of, 173, 330-332

Darjeeling, 56
—, description of, 21
Dederich, William, 7, 18
Devil-dancing, 195
■“ Diogenes,*' 59, 90
Dogs in Tibet, 139

Drepung, Monastery of, 251-252, 255,
267, 288-289
—■, monks of, 287-289
Dress in Tibet. See Tibet
Dropas, the, 133-136, 156

Ellam, Captain J. E., 19, 55

Fireaims in Tibet. See Tibet
Fletcher, Frederic, 19, 55

Gan den, Monastery of, 252, 325

Gantok, 24, 27, 31

Celongs, the, 166

Gialiam, Dr., 27

Gyanglse, 20

—, description of, 49

—Kcnchung of, 51, 52

Harcourt, William, 19, 43, 55
Ilcdin, Sven, 15

Himalayas, the climate of, 93, 118-
119

349

350

Jelap Pass, the, 27, 56

INDEX

Kalimpong, 27

Kampa Dzong, arrival at, X12, 126

-, status of, 106

Kanchendzonga, Mount, 66
Knight, George, 18, 55
Kyipup, 285-287
Kyi River, 149, 249

Lachen, 80
Laden La, 23
cLamas, 166

Lama, IDalai. See Dalai Lama
—, Trashi. See Trashi Lama
—, Trodampa. See Trodampa Lama
i,aiiguage of Tibet. See Tibet
La-pas, the, 80
Leeches in Tibet, 28, 76-77
Lepchas, the, 34, 69, 99
Lhasa, 267-270
Cathedral, 269, 296-300
Curfew of, 273
Difficulty of access to, 14
Lama of. See Dalai Lama
Legal administration, 294-296
Monastenes of, 251-252
New Year festival rites, 289-291,
317-320
Plain of, 125
Position of, 149
Postal system, 327
Pulpit in, 280

Lhaten, 25, 108, 168, 214-215, 247
Manjitar, 62

Macdonald, Trade Agent, 37, 347
McGovern, Dr. W. Montgomery:
Arrives at Darjeeling, 20

-Gantok, 31

-Gyangts6, 49

-Kampa Dzong, X12

-Lhasa, 257

-Shigats6, 176

Attacked by leeches, 76-77
Before the Cabinet, 296, 301-304
— magistrates, 294-295

McGovern, Dr. W. M. — continued:
Departs from Darjeelmj, 60

— on first expedition, 25, 60

— for home, 346

Disguised as a Sikkimese servant,
I00-10I

First night in a rest-house, 153-158
Interviews the Dalai Lama, 305-
310

Secretary of State, 274-279, 290-

293

Lost in the snow, 90-91
Meets Political Officer, 37-38
— the Kenchung, 52
Mobbed by monks, 309-312
Nearly betrays himself, 246-247
Permission to proceed refused, 55
Preparations for second attempt,
57-60

Presence in Tibet discovered, 223
Rearward march, 87
Renewed attempt to proceed, 89
Return to Darjeeling, 56
Reveals his identity, 263
Semi-disguise adopted, 73
Stopped by a snow-storm, 85-86
Visit to Maharajah of Sikkim, 31

-Monastery of Gyangts6, 53

-Oracle of Chumbi, 43-44

Maharajah of Sikkim, See Sikkim
Marriage in Tibet. See Tibet
Missionaries, 27

Mohammedanism in Tibet. See Tibet
Monasteries, 14, 43, 53, 165-167, 194,
207-208, 226-227, 268-269
—, organization of, 197

— of Chumbi, 43

— of Salcya, 124

— of Trashilhumpo, 174

— of Gyangts6, 53
Mondron, 286-287

Monks, 165-166, 193-195, 324-326
Mountain sickness, 84
Mythology of Tibet, 98-99, 226-227,
232, 319-320

Namtse, 65

National Assembly of Tibet, 303-304

INDEX

351

Natii Pass, 35

Navigation in Tibet, 199-200
Nepalese in Sikkim See Sikkim

-Lhasa, 337

Nomads of Tibet, 133-136, 216
Nuns, Tibetan, 241
Nyang River, 149

Oracle of Chumbi, the, 43-^4

Pari, 44~45

Parliament, Tibetan, 303-304
Pedang, Monastery of, 74
Polyandry, 42, 183-184
Polygamy, 136, 183-184
Potala, the, 14, 254, 256-257, 305,
334

Pryde-Hughes, J. E., 8

Rangit River, 62
Red Idol Gorge, 48
Reincarnation in Tibetan religion, 32,
188-189, 307

Rest-houses, 153-156, 192

-, official, 29, 30, 31

Ringpo, 207
Rockhill, W. W., 15, 98

Sakya, Monastery of, 124-125
Salt, 147

" Satan,” 58, 70-71, 83, 92, 120-121,
i42-i4j3, i77> 3:86, 195, 338-339
Sera, Monastery of, 252, 267
Sharpas, the, 337“338
Shigats€‘, 149, 176
—, Lama of. 5 ^^ Trashi Lama
Sikkim, 21, 24, 27
Constitution of, 33-34
History of, 33-34
Maharajah of, 24, 31-33, 34
Nepalese, predominance of, 31, 34,
74 . 75

Status of, 27, 33
Sikkimese, the, 21, 34, 72

,-, privilege of entry into Tibet,

Snow-blindness, 87, loi
Snow-leopard, the, 90, 92

Sonam, 263-266

Superstitions, Tibetan, 24-25, 94, 97,
98-99, 220, 236-237, 284
Swords, Tibetan, 145
Syce, the, 58, 109

Taxation in Tibet. See Tibet
Tea, 146

—, method of preparation, 161
—, mode of drinking, 182
Temple of Soaring Meditation, 226-
227

Tibet, 13, 15, 16

Architecture, 105, 122-123, 179-
180

Burial customs, 178-179
Cabinet, 299-302

Climate, 93-94, 105, 150-151, 189-
190

Coinage, 111-112, 133
Deserts, 133
Dialects, 215-217
Divorce, 184-185

Dress, 135, 169, 174, 214-215, 291
Fauna, 225-226, 232-233
Finance, 332-334
Firearms, 145
Food, 75, 161,

Fuel, 130

Government, 115-117, 334”335
Highways, 30
History, 176, 281, 299
Lakes, 230-232

Language, 140, 190-191, 206, 215-
217

Literature, 171-172, 187-188, 320-
322

Marriage, 183-184, 219, 244-246
Medicine, 313-315
Mohammedanism, 335-336
Morals, 339-340
National Assembty, 303-304
Natural regions, 149-15 2
— resources, 343
Nomads, 133-136
Personal habits of Tibetans, 104,
152, 135, 156, 157
Politics, 309-310

352

INDEX

Tibet— continued:

Political divisions, 176
Polyandry, 43, 183-184
Polygamy, 136, 183-”! 84
Postal system, 327-328
Social customs, 26, 43, 105, no,
127, I55”i5^> 173. 201, 336

Taxation, 221, 33^-333
Trade, 342-343
Tiansport, 171
Tista River, 67, 08 , 80, 94
“ Toby,*' 22, 46, 47
Tongsa Donlop, 39
Trasbi Lama, 23

TrasM Lama, status of, 176, 330-332
Trashiihumpo, Monasteiy of, 176-
177, 17S ®

Tsarong Shape, 27^-279, 290-293,
333

Wool in Tibet, 146, 234

Yak, the, 80, 94, 127, 129, 137, 138
Yamdro Lake, 225, 230-231
Yatnng, 20, 40, 42, 43
Yomighnsband Expedition, the, 36,
49-5L 107, ir6, 285, 330
Yoiinghusbaiid, Sir Francis, 15, 105

Printed by

PURNPtX. AND SON^

Pauw’ON, England

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