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Full text of "Tibet"

TIBET 

THE COUNTRY AND ITS 
INHABITANTS 



3f. <Brenai*t> 

Translated F>y A. TUXXEURA DK 



HUTCWW&CW * CO, 



PREFACE 



'M book which I am now placing before the reader is 
l>a'tial reprint of a work entitled " A Scientific Mission 
o ,Up,ier Asia " (Paris: Leroux, 3 vols, 4to, and an atlas 
:>!'), which I published in 1897-1898 under the auspices 
f^tht? Ministry of Public Instruction. This government 
plication, important both in bulk and price, is not within 
hit reach of the mass of readers nor, especially, of all 
f 'i< w who may need to refer to it. 1 have therefore 
hi '|<ht it advisable to extract from it and to issue in a 
form all that part which relates to Tibet and 
IK Tibetans, to whom recent events have called general 
tiiion* I have omitted only purely technical matters. 
The following pages contain first the story of the 
-, unfortunately attended with tragic results, which 
informed with my regretted leader and friend, the 
i'i ,VL Dutreuil de Uhins, across an almost inaccessible 
iijoft. If devoid of any other merit, this narrative has 
that of sincerity* I have been to no pains to 
or in any way to distort it, nor have I ever 
to astonish the reader's imagination by dis- 
^ring things through magnifying-glasses or to flatter 
^jvtiv&iling taste for romantic exoticism which disguises 
V true character of countries and men under a con* 
fitional veneer. After drawing up in his journal a list 
$htij sufferings and difficulties with which we had to 
\ Dutreuil de Khms wrote; 
'We can never forget all these sufferings!" 



iv PREFACE 

Far from exaggerating them, however, I have rath' 
extenuated them, knowing how greatly he detested anythi, 
at all resembling advertisement and how bent he 
upon not appearing to solicit the admiration or pity 
others. 

The second part of this volume comprises an accott 
of the manners and customs, the social and econom 
life and the political condition of Tibet, one of the nir 
curious and least-known of countries, which is on tl 
verge of losing a notable part of its originality. Th 
account, although dating some years hack, has lost nor 
of its novelty. Of the explorers who came after us- 
Littledale, Wei by, Deasy, Bonin, Kozlof, Sven Hedin, < 
whom each was very remarkable in his way, while tb 
last stands in the first rank from the geographical poir 
of view not one was in a position to make a thorou^ 
study of Tibetan society. Two men alone the Hint 
pundit Sarat Chandra Dns ' and the Buriat Tsybikoff, 
Russian subject t have brought us any fresh informatic 
in this respect. Among recent travellers who went befo 
us, I must mention, as being in the first rank of the 
who have added to our knowledge of the people 
Tibet, Pere Deagodins, of the Foreign Missions, t an' 
above all, Mr, W, W, Rockbill,^ who is to-day the me 
competent man in this matter. I have been careful not t 
lay stress upon points which they already had sufficient, 
elucidated. 

R 0. 

* Journey to Lhtt'tta and Central Tibet. London; tocjjt. 

1 Ccnlnl Tibet. An article in the ttulletin of the St, 
Geogfttphietrl Society : J0<>3* I*ftrt MI* 

J Tibet. Pariw: 1^5. A work cntmmcU with fnctw, hut < 
the scientific spirit, 

S T/ic Land of tlw Unnax* London; i^.'-Dittry of tt 
through Mongol*** ff "d Tibet, VValurtgt<> : x94 
Tibet Washington: 1895, 



CONTENTS 

PART THE FIRST 

THE STORY OK THK JOURNEY 

CHAPTER I 

FJKST UXPt.OKATIONS IX NOKm-VKSTI.KX YIUhT AND J-ADAK 

AGC 

m Khotiin to the Tibetan frontier- Across the plateau of Upper 
Asia ! ; ix>h departure from Khofan and fresh accent of the 
phiU*au--TJieflrt Tibetans The oM route from Khotanto Lhasa 
Krom UUte Kgnye MorpuClm to Luke Pangon^- From Lake Pan* 
^oitg to Leh" H*om Leh to Khotan through the Kurukorcini raw* i 

CHAPTER II 

MAKCH ON Lit ASA -Tllli AIOl'NTAIN DESBKT- -THH JfASKQIlt) 

WITH Tin? rnti-rrAN O % "~ 



jjo in Kcnrch of it new route to Lhasa to the south 
V/c reach the eximne point known to the natives -We eross the 
Alth.u Tagh" The Outreuil de Khins Chain- A^ain the mountain 
ilcft We meet our ftrat man after sixty one days' march -The 
I TibtftaiiH try to stop tw -The prcfeet of Senju Jong-- The Num 
Chp or TVf{ri Nor Pirst envoys from Lhasa Arrival of the 
Chinese vice-legate and of new delegates from the Tibetan govern- 
ment We arc refused permission to tfo to Lhasa We are given 
Irave tn utay at Nu^chu ......... 



CHAPTER III 

MXPLOKATIONtt OF lH94'--M*OAI TUB NAM CJIO TO 

n the Mum Cho to Na^chu ; the sourcen of the Sulwen~-Nu#tihU"- 
\Vc set out for Sining - HaSu of the Upper Snlwen ; an unkown 
route from Lhasa to Tasienlu*- The Poubo Tihetan Source** of 
tliv Hliie Kiver- SourceH of the Mekong- -Taehi Oompu; hontile 
monks ; ti x^t Tibetan fair The exploration of the basin of the 



Upper Mekong continued -Jyerhundo ; hostility of the nionkH; 
the agents of the Chinese government ...... 91 



vi CONTENTS FOR PART THE FIRST continu ed 

CHAPTER IV 

FROM JYERKUNDO TO SINING DEATH OF DUTREUIL DE RHINtf 

I'AGl 

The village of Tttmbumdo Our caravan is attacked and pillaged by 
Tibetans and Dutrcuil de Rhins killed A useless combat The 
convent of Labug takes our part against the people of Tumbumdo 
Intervention of the Chinese agent I leave for Simng ; a deserted and 
unexplored country ; the Golok bandits ; the Upper Yellow River 
Our provisions fail The KokoNor; Tongkor Sitting; the Imperial 
Legate ; our baggage is restored to us The monastery of Skubum 150 



PART THE SECOND 

A GENERAL VIEW OF TIBET AND ITS INHABITANTS 

CHAPTER I 

A nKSCimVTION OF Tllli COUNTRY AS A WHO US 
The region of the lakes The region of the rivers - - JH; 

CHAPTER II 

THE INHABITANTS : THEIR PHYSICAL AND MOKAI, TYIM'.S 

Statistics; ethnical name of the Tibetans- 1 - Physical uluiructeristicH 
Moral characteristics - - - sau 

CHAPTER III 

HISTORICAL SKETCH 

Origins of the Tibetan people The chief tribes in the mth mitury 
A. i>,, According to the Chinese writersThe first Tthotmi Uin^tloni 
between the seventh and the ninth centuries Struggles bvtwven 
the civil power and the religious power j^9 

CHAPTER IV 

MATKRUf. LIVE 1 IIAWTAT10NK, CU)THINO, FOOD, HYGIENH 
AND MHDICINH 

Tents Houses Clothing Food Climate, hygiene and medicine - 240 



viii CONTENTS FOR PART THE 



CHAPTER X 

THE ORGANISATION OF THE CLERGV 

MOB 

The monastic hicrarchy-The number, power and wealth of the monks 
-The different religious orders; the real position of the Dalai 
Lama; the Dalai Lama is not a pope 330 

CHAPTER XI 

ADMINISTRATION AND POLICY 

Divisions! the IdngJooi of Lhasa-Central power; taxes; officials- 
The public forces-Predominating influence of the elersy in the 
government-!, lie Chinese protectorate and the policy ol Chiini in 
Tihet-Tlie policy of EnglanJ-Tlie principalities ad tribes M 
Eastern Tibet arc independent of Lhasa and directly subject to 
China ' :i!2 



CHAPTER I 

FIRST EXPLORATIONS IN NORTH -WESTERN TIBET 
AND LA DAK: 

From Kholiui to the Tibetan frontierAcross the plateau of Upper Asia ~ 
Fresh departure from Khottm unii fresh ascent of the plateau The 
first TibetansThe old route front Khotan to Lhasa -From Lake 
PgayiS Hoi-pa Cho to Lake Pangong^From Lake Pangong to Lch 
From Lch to Khotan through the Karalcoram Pass, 

BY a decree dated 23 July 1890, the Minister of 
Public Instruction entrusted Dutreuil de Rhins, who 
hud distinguished himself by a journey of exploration 
in the Congo and by remarkable geographical works 
on I lido-China and Central Asia, with a scientific 
mission to Upper Asia, the expenses of which were 
to be borne in part by the Ministry and in part 
by the Academy of Inscriptions and Letters, On the 
25th of October of the same year, I was appointed a 
member of the mission ; ami Dutreuil de Rhins and 
I4eft Paris on the 191)1 of February 1891. 

I do not wish to speak here of our journey across 
the Caucasus, Russian Turkestan and Kashgar to Khotan, 
the real starting-place of our mission, which we reached 
on the yth of July. In that first year, we were to 
explore the mountains which rise to the south of 
Khotan ; to discover, if possible, the traces of the 
route which, according to certain Chinese documents, 
led straight across those mountains from Khotan to Lhasa 

1 



TObet 3 

that stand for tiers of benches- Its soil is of volcanic 
origin ; and near two small lakes are layers of sulphur 
from which this site derives its name of Gugurtluk, 
This is the beginning of the immense entablature which 
separates the plain of Hindustan from the steppes of 
Mongolia and the sands and oases of Turkestan. 

Shortly after, we entered the Ustun Tagh, a mountain- 
chain perceptibly higher than the Altyn Tagh, whence its 
name of Ustun Tagh, that is to say, " upper mountain/* 
as against Altyn Tagh, which means " lower mountain." 
These two mountain systems have very different 
characters. The Altyn Tagh is very articulate, rugged, 
bristling with pointed peaks and slashed with deep 
valleys ; the Ustun Tagh, on the contrary, has very 
large rounded forms : it contains more numerous and 
more extensive glaciers ; and, while the Altyn Tagh 
abounds in calcareous rocks, primitive and schistose 
rocks prevail in the Ustun Tagh, 

Climbing up beside the River Kim, we reached, on 
the 26th of September, a large, flat and marshy valley, 
strewn with small lakes, covered with a light layer of snow 
and bordered on the west by a chain of huge glaciers 
spreading so wide that they seemed but a few feet high* 
We were nw at an altitude of 17,900 feet and we 
erroneously believed that we had come to the source of 
the river and to the Tibetan frontier. The glare of the 
sun on the snow of the plain, all that whiteness spreading 
in the quivering air to the distant horizon, with not a 
detail, not a shadow to relieve the gaze, pained our 
eyes as though they were stabbed by a thousand needles. 
When we reached the stage, our men, blinded, with 
aching heads, declared that they were unable to work 
and lay down on the ground without pitching their tent 
or preparing their meals. The next day, we descended 
the valley ag^n in order to turn our steps to the 
north-east, towards Karasai, hoping to find on our 



4 {Tibet 

right a gap in the mountains which would take us, 
next year, to Lhasa. Vain hope ! Dutreuil de Rhins 
had misinterpreted the old Chinese geographers otuthis 
point. 

We followed the foot of the glaciers of the Ustun 
Tagh through a region encumbered with moraines of 
rocks, intersected with ravines, undulated with gentle 
hills, furrowed with depressions the bottom of which, 
although generally dried up, was sometimes occupied 
by a frozen pool. All of this tract was barren, dull, 
silent as death and infinitely desolate ; and the motion- 
less giants of ice that stood sentry over this desolation 
made it appear more horrible yet. We had a few very 
hard days* We had observed as many as 40 degrees 
of heat in the sun at noon; and then the thermometer 
would fall to 20 degrees below zero.' hi the morning, 
at starting, we shivered with cold and our hands were 
swollen and cracked with the frost when we useil the 
compass or the pencil ; in the middle of the day, a 
glowing sun burnt our faces ; and, almost immediately 
afterwards, at two o'clock in the afternoon, a keen, icy 
wind got up, bringing with it snow and hail. The alti- 
tude, which was almost always higher than 16,000 feet, 
choked us and made the least movement, the least word, 
painful. At night, buried under thick blankets which 
were hardly able to restore life to our benumbed limbs, 
we were often awakened by a feeling of stifling ~iwd 
suffocation which compelled us to leave our tent and 
greedily to gulp down the niggardly air. Add to 
this the bad food, poisoned by the smoke, and the 
bud water, which was sale and bitten Less than this 
would have been enough to lay low our attendants, 
.During two days, there were three sound men in all : the 
others, blinded, attacked by mountain-sickness, harassed 
by continual physical exertion, their hands bleeding from 

Centigrade, 



ZH&et 5 

the tents which they had to fold while still covered 
with ice and snow, were all unfit for work. The horses 
weri still more unfortunate and were a source of great 
anxiety to us. During eighteen days, we found no grass 
that suited them : everywhere were rocks } snow and 
a few yapkakS) a sort of very low-growing plant, with 
exceedingly hard and deep roots, which we used for 
firewood, this being almost the only thing that ventured 
to grow in this terrible country. Our barley soon 
failed. Exposed to the snow and the cold nights, with 
insufficient food, the beasts began to die. We gave up 
to them our bread and our rice and were reduced to 
eating nothing hut mutton. Now sheep that have been 
fasting for several weeks are neither very fat nor very 
succulent : ours, to tell the truth, were mere wool and 
bone* As for game, there was no question of it ; the 
country is absolutely deserted and not so much as a 
wing is sect) to pass through the sky, 

Meanwhile, our road was marked by the carcasses of 
our horses. To save the ailing survivors, we had to leave 
the least necessary portion of our baggage behind us and 
to go on foot, a very painful mode of progress at so 
great a height. We began to fear that we should not 
arrive in time in a lower and more fruitful region, that 
we should lose all our beasts and be obliged to sacrifice 
all in order to save ourselves ; our men were becoming 
aiDjjpus and thought themselves lost, destined to die in 
this solitude with no visible outlet. We lengthened our 
stages, in spite of our ever-increasing fatigue* At last, 
on the 7th of October, having surmounted a steep 
mountain-crest which forms part of the Altyn Tagh, we 
reached the margin of the little salt lake of Hangid 
Kul, in a valley that opened out a road to the east, a 
road of safety and deliverance. 

On the 8th, we marched until pretty far into the 
night through the valley of Sarak Tu As the moon 



6 ZTfbet 

appeared over the mountains, we came to a spot where 
grass abounded., near an abandoned gold-mine, The next 
day and the day after, we descended as rapidly as possible 
by a terraced slope, carpeted with long and varied grasses, 
which follows the river and is intersected by deep and 
steep ravines, cut out as though by a punching-machine. 
On the loth of October, night surprised us while we 
were still marching in the midst of the desert and of a 
silence broken only by the sound of the waters roaring 
at the bottom of their gorge. Suddenly, as we were 
groping our way down the cliffs which embank the bed of 
the river, we heard men's voices in the dark. They were 
the people whom the Chinese mandarin of Kiria had 
sent to meet us with provisions and fresh horses. We wore 
at the end of our troubles for that year. On the i2th, 
we arrived at Karasai, where a few shepherds and their 
families live in underground dwellings. This place h at 
a height of only 10,350 feet and may be considered as 
outside the mountains* Towards the north there are only 
a few spurs which run into the desert of Takla Makan, 

From there, passing through the meadows which lie 
at the foot of the Altyn Tagh and exhale a penetrating 
odour of wormwood, through a barren plain covered first 
with pebbles and then with sandy downs, we reached the 
little oasis of Nia. In any other circumstances, the fields, 
shorn and empty after the harvest, the thinned and 
yellowing foliage, the dead leaves rolling in the dufl^ f 
the roads would have given us an impression of sadness. 
But now the softer light and the varied tints of autumn 
rested our eyes ; and the warmth of the temperature, 
the life and movement of the bazaar, the voices of men 
talking and shouting revived and gave fresh spirit to the 
travellers who had come out of the cold and the solitude, 

After a stay at Khotan, the length of which was 
greatly increased by circumstances which I need not 
recall here, we set out again on the i8th of June 1892. 



Uibet 7 

On the 1 6th of July, we saw, for the second time, 
that poor village of Polur, with its damp, dark houses 
impregnated with a smell of goats and sour milk. This 
time that wretched, exiguous corner of the earth seemed 
to us delightful, because we remembered the rude and 
wild mountainous desert at the foot of which it cowers 
so chilly. The population received us cordially, hut 
the sky frowned upon us. It mined : the mountain- 
paths were broken and impracticable ; the swollen 
torrents were filled with muddy, swift ami deep waters ; 
the roofs fell in under the ruin ; in the plain, the floods 
carried off trees, houses, pieces of the fields ; in the 
mountains, the slopes streamed with water, the top** 
became laden with snow. We had to wait, after having 
already waited too long* 

When the rain ceased and the road had been wended, 
we set out, on the icth of August Our caravan num- 
bered thirteen men, thirty-six horses, twenty-two donkeys 
and thirty sheep, to which munt be added reinforcements 
of sixty men and forty-three donkeys supplus! by IV>lur 
and the surrounding district. With all tnis assistance, it 
was nevertheless* no easy undertaking to carry, or rathe*" 
to drag, six tons of baggage to the summit of a plutcMu 
loftier than Mont Blanc. For three days, we matched 
with the greatest precaution and the greatest difficulty ia 
the gorges and gullies of the Kunrn. Oftenest we ha*} 
tfr bags and chests carried on man-back. All our 
measures were fairly well taken ; and fortune favoured us 
to the extent that we had to mourn the loss of only one 
horse. On reaching the plateau of Sura/. Kul, we foumJ 
the sky and the earth equally melancholy, Grey ami 
lowering clouds hid the mountains from our night ; the 
snow fell in flakes and covered the ground to a depth of 
two to three inches. This was on the f 6th of August. 
Everything was so wet that it wan impossible to make 
a fire* When the night was over, our local recruit*, 



8 TObet 

flinging themselves on their knees, besought us, with 
many tears and lamentations, to allow them to go back. 
The suffering was great indeed, Our eyes were affected 
by the dust, the sun and the snow ; the great height 
made our breathing difficult, our movements painful, our 
heads ache and caused all the wheels of the human 
machine to grate, The natives were ill-clad, ill-fed and 
without shelter. We therefore sent them away, ex- 
cepting eight, of whom six were to accompany us for 
three days more and two for seven. 

We resumed our march in the direction of the source 
of the Kiria Daria. The season was decidedly bad and 
the heavens capricious. At one moment, the weather 
was bright, the sun burning; and we would take off 
our too heavy furs : suddenly, a groat gust of wind came, 
black clouds hastened up and heaped themselves one on 
top of the other, bringing snow and hail ; and once more 
we would wrap ourselves in our sheepskins, shivering 
from the effects of this abrupt change. But more serious 
was that the snow which had fallen in spring and summer 
now melted and turned the country into u vast hog. The 
valleys were flooded ; the soil of t&t> slopes was muddy 
and soft. A great plain crossed by the Upper Kiria Dana, 
on which, in 1891, we had seen only two little bogs, had 
become one great pool of water, We were obliged to 
keep as much as possible to the heights, which increased 
the difficulty of our progress owing to the constant 
climbings and descents ; the horses sank into the ground 
to their knees, sometimes to their bellies ; harassed with 
fatigue, stifled by the height at which we were, shivering 
with cold, wanting grass, turning against the barley, 
which they refused, they wasted away rapidly; and, 
already, on the aand of August, we had lost two, Eight 
men of the thirteen were ifi ; the others dragged them- 
selves along as best they could* Dutreuil dc Rhin 
himself was very unwell. 



Tttbet 9 

We had meantime come to the foot of the immense 
and magnificent glaciers where the Kiria River takes its 
source. We succeeded in surmounting, by u pass at 
18,200 feet, the chain of the Ustun T:tfh, which wits thus 
crossed for the first time by travellers coming from the 
north. The water no longer flowed towards Turkestan 
and we could consider ourselves to have reached Tibetan 
territory : two days 1 march further were stones blackened 
by the fire on which Tibetan hunters had boiled their tea. 
Unfortunately, the obstacles, far from becoming fewer, 
increased ; the altitude, which was IN hi<j;h as before, 
varying from 17,000 to i,oy feet, the marshy *oil the 
scarcity of food ami the cold nights caused our be;sis to 
suffer from extreme weakness, which was sijsgravattfi! 
by the time during which they had travelled and the 
distance which they hail covered. The necessity which 
ensued of marching more slowly, of #oing only seven 
or eight miles a day, instead of thirteen^ ;wtf the (on- 
sequent insufficiency of our provisions, which had been 
calculated for a more rapid progress obliged us to take 
a south-westerly direction in order to obtain, in the 
nearest inhabited regions, ihe resources which we nmied 
and the indications that would enable us to make for 
our goal by a more practical road. 

As far us Like Surn/.i Cho, we followed, with a few 
modifications, the itinerary which Carey hud marked outj 
in J^c opposite direction, many years before* The men 
from Polur had left us, taking with them our last mail for 
France, and we now continued our journey alone Acrms 
those monotonous and desolate solitude*, where the air 
choked us like a leaden breastplate* where the cold frtMtt 
our feet and chapped our hands ami faces. We heard 
nothing but the incessant, harsh, furioun whiMtle of tht % 
west wind, which Deemed to be the voice of the mountains 
earning the disturber* of their peremtwl rest. We ww 
nothing but a wccemon of distmal hilh, sometime** 



10 ttfbet 

whitened with snow, trailing sadly and low as though 
weary from having climbed so high* Nothing grew on 
the dry soil save here and there a few hard, short bkdes 
of yellowish grass. Nothing moved in the sky or on the 
ground, except that, from time to time, we saw flying, far, 
very far in the distance, swift as an arrow, the vague 
shape of an antelope, a yak or a wild horse. Sometimes, 
however, a fine landscape aroused the attention, as on the 
25th of August, on the banks of the Yeshil Kul, the first 
great lake that we had come upon. It stretched to the 
foot of the tall mountains all sparkling with snow, its 
water of a dazzling and unshaded blue, motionless and as 
it were sleeping in the absolute silence of surrounding 
nature, a silence not ruffled even by the sound of a bird's 
flight. 

From that lake, which is two days from the source of 
the Kiria Dam, the traveller follows a scries of long 
valleys and amphitheatres with a red soil, confined within 
mountain chains, whose summits and northern flanks 
alone keep their snowy mantle at a height of 18,000 to 
18,500 feet, while behind them, towards the south, 
appear the tops of the gangri, or glaciers, which form a 
third chain, almost parallel with the Ustun Tugh and the 
Altyn Tagh, 

After skirting little Lake Tashliak Kul and going 
round the Sumzi Cho, we saw, on the 4th of September, 
our first Tibetan. He was a hunter, with long, tanked 
hair and a wild face, and he carried a matchlock of 
inordinate length. He gave us a quick impression that 
we had now entered upon a new and strange world- 
For fear of the authorities of his country, he at first 
refused to reply to our questions ; but as, on the other 
hand, he feared us no less than the said authorities and 
as the danger from our side appeared the more urgent, 
he made up his mind to show us the road to the nearest 
human habitations, on condition that we did not inform 



tfibet 11 

against him. In the afternoon of the next day, we came 
to an immense amphitheatre of snow-topped mountains, 
crossed by a deep ravine on the edges of which were 
scattered seven poor little black tents inhabited by 
Tibetans subject to Lhasa. This place is called Mangtza, 
and forms part of the district of Rudok ami the 
province of Chang ; it is overtowered by the Mawang 
Gangri, an enormous rounded mountain, behind 
which> at three days' march, lies the sacred lake, the 
Mawang Cho, called Bakha Namur Nor by the Mongols. 
In a few moments, we were surrounded by the entire 
population, men, women and children, all with their skins 
burnt and tanned by the sun, wind, cold and snow, their 
disordered hair flowing in the wind, their bodies covered 
with a dirty and rugged sheepskin or woollen gown. Good 
people, for that matter, quite astonished umi delighted at 
seeing men so extraordinary as ourselves, they gave us an 
excellent reception and made us go the rounds of all their 
tents, where they regaled us on buttered and suited tea 
and grilled barley-meal (tMmb<i) % an indifferent fiux^ it" 
the truth be told, but seasoned with good humour. One 
of them, whose hair wan more bristling, his ;ur fiercer, 
his tongue more active, his clothes dirtier, his iron pipe 
heavier and longer than the others*, offered to guide us 
wherever we wanted to go, in consideration of a fair 
wage, swearing to be faithful to us against all comers. A 
gufilc was not enough : we also wanted provisions ; 
and those poor nomads* who live by rearing u few yak* 
and a few sheep and who nend to latlak tor the little 
barley which they consume, were unable to nupply UH 
with anything* 

Meanwhile, the news of our arrival had spread, awl 
on the yth of September > the jpfo, or chief of the canton* 
made his appearance, accompanied by three men armed 
with prehistoric muskets and iron swords, Korthwith^ 
our faithful volunteer eclipsed like 'a star before the 



12 {Tibet 

rising sun and it was impossible to find him again. The 
goba spoke to us very politely, informed us that he was 
ready to serve us and that, if we wanted guides, he weuld 
put some at our disposal, except by the road to Rudok, 
where foreigners were not admitted. We had no inten- 
tion of going to Rudok, first, because we knew that 
we should not readily be allowed to pass ; and, next, 
because we should not find the needful supplies in 
that wretched little market-town, We asked only for a 
guide to lead us in the direction of the south-east ; for 
we hoped to be able soon on that side to reach inhabited 
districts, less high up and better furnished with resources 
than that in which we were. The goba, delighted to rid 
himself of our troublesome presence, picked out two men 
to accompany us and recommended them to us us being 
very trustworthy and as knowing the country perfectly. 

These guides led us towards the east, over passable 
and pretty firm ground, but barren and rarely at a lower 
altitude than 17,500 feet. We skirted the northern foot 
of a great chain of mountains, running parallel with the 
Ustun Tagh, whose snowy summits and glaciers were 
often hidden from our sight by the brown masses in the 
foreground. On the loth of September, we camped in a 
very wide and almost level valley, covered with gravel 
and sand and devoid of water or grass, like the bottom 
of a dried-up lake. Quite near, concealed by a mountain 
spur, lay the point of a great lake, the Rgaye Hc^pa 
Cho, which I was to recognise later. Beyond the lake, on 
the south-east, rose a majestic icy barrier, across which a 
cutting was indistinctly outlined. Although Dutrcuil de 
Rhins thought that he had lost his way, this was really, 
as I have since shown/ the old road from Khotati to 
Lhasa, which went by the Kyx;yl Davan, the source of 
the Kiria Daria, the Rgayd* Horpa Cho, the Mawang 
Cho and Thakdaoragpa, 

*" A Scientific Mission to Upper Asia*" Vol. in^^^ 



13 

Unfortunately, we were in u critical situation. Since 
leaving Polur, our mission had done twenty-six days of 
effective marching. Although our men had become 
better accustomed to the extreme altitudes than one 
would have expected at the start and although the 
fatigue was now less great, on iirmer ground and under a 
lighter burden, several men, ami those among the best, 
had been rendered almost useless by pains in the head 
and stomach, True, the temperature had varied only 
between 8 degrees below and 32 above /ero, nor hud 
the difference on any one day exceeded 31 degrees in 
the shade, but, at a height of 17,500 to 1 8,000 feet, 
with wind, bad food and the physical strain, a man 
becomes very sensitive to such differences. During 
the three last days' march, we had lost six horses ; on 
the banks of the Rgay<! Horpa Cho, in spite of the 
rest and the grass, we lost six more. Of thirty-nix 
with which we started we hud only twenty-four very 
tired horses left The jaded donkeys were no longer 
capable of travelling stages of sufficient length to bring 
us to the inhabited region** before the provisions gave 
out, that is, before fourteen days. 

Our losses were bound to increase rapidly in thin 
desert, where the altitude became no lower, where the 
grass was so scarce and so bad and where the road was 
barred on the south by glaciers which the surviving 
an'ynals, in their exhausted state, would not have had the 
strength to cross. Lastly, Dutreuil tic Rhins, who was in 
bad health when leaving Polur, was now so ill as to cautie 
me serious anxiety, in spite of his efforts to conceal hi* 
sufferings. 

We therefore turned back. Once more travelling 
near the Sunr/i Cho, we nkirted very wide valleys by the 
deeply-twined lope of the northern apur* of the great 
chain of which I have already spoken. Next, innteati of 
taking Carey's road by the Lunik l<a PJUW, we pushed 



H ttfbet 

into the depth of the chain through the defile of Cha- 
kar Skedogpo, between bare, red hills. On the I yth of 
September, crossing a watershed and a maze of *arid 
heights, we came, amid wind and hail, to an amphitheatre 
of snow-capped mountains and glaciers which descended 
at sixty feet from where we stood* The lower slopes 
were encumbered with moraines of stones as far as the 
banks of a great lake, the Kon Cho, which was over- 
towered on the opposite margin by enormous steep 
peaks. It looked like a drop of water lost at the 
bottom of a well ; and on its wan and melancholy surface 
floated great grey clouds. Notwithstanding the gloomy 
and inhospitable aspect of this spot, a$ it is situated at 
the junction of the two roads leading to Ladak and 
Rudok, we found a few Tibetans who came there in 
summer to graze their flocks on the lean tufts of 
grass that grow between the .stones. We frightened 
them greatly, for they took us for brigands* The 
shepherds ran away and did not return that night ; 
the sheep strayed freely over the mountain ; and it 
took three days to look for them, bring them back 
and sort them. 

Two aptuksy or policemen, seat to watch the frontier, 
arrived, wearing red turbans, armed from head to foot 
and carrying over their shoulders a copper box containing 
a sacred image, an infallible talisman against bullets ana 
sword-thrusts* They cherished the purpose, as we h^pird 
later, of seizing our horses during the night ; but, 
seeing that we looked like honest people, they changed 
their mind and thought it more expedient to employ 
persuasion, They were punished, however, for their 
sin of intention ; for, while they were meddling with 
our affairs, the wife of the younger of them was kid- 
napped by some enterprising marauders and the poor 
husband, who heard of the adventure at breakfast, hurriedly 
left his colleague to go in chase of the ravbhera. 



ZKbet 15 

The old policeman, while drinking a few cups of 
buttered tea with us in the tent of a native, tried to 
turn^ us from our road. He told us that the way 
from the Kon6 Cho to Ladak was very had, indeed 
impracticable ; that we ought to make for the Lnnak 
road if our intention was to go to JLadak ; that the 
road to Rudok was closed and that to the Kon<i Ding 
forbidden to Europeans ; that, if he allowed us to take 
it, he would be trifling with his life. But, as Dutreuil 
de Rhins gaily observed, that was no reason why he 
should trifle with us. We had learnt that, through the 
Kon6 Ding Pass, we could go straight to the north- 
western part of Lake Pangong, which is in Ladak> ami 
our scarcity of provisions did not allow us to indulge 
in circuitous routes* 

"Be it so," replied the policeman, " 1 will serul a 
messenger to Rudok at once, if you will wait for the 
answer of the authorities, which cannot take long in 
coming/' 

"You can do better than that,*' said Dutreuil tit* 
Rhins, "Go with us as fur as the Kon6 Ding, for 1 
refuse to wait another day. You will sec for yourself 
that I shall not try to go to Rudok and everybody 
will be satisfied.'* 

"Very well, 1 agree/* said the policeman, who was 
a decent fellow, " on condition that you pass through 
my olace to take a cup of tea/' ' 

un the next day, the I9th of September, we set 
out together, crossing the great moraines of the glaciers 
which run down to the western margin of Lake Konfe 
Cho* Our worthy policeman informed us that there 
used to be many bandits in those parts, but that they 
had disappeared since his appointment to watch over 
the public safety. When we reproached him with his 
colleague's adventure, he replied that it wan probably not 
so much a question of marauders, that women have their 



16 ttfbet 

fancies and that, when you've got a young wife in your 
tent, it's wiser not to go travelling the high-roads. This 
wise and formidable policeman appeared himself to^have 
been a great traveller: he had seen Lhasa, Sining, Sikkim, 
Darjeeling ; he had known Chinamen, Hindus, English- 
men ; and, in the course of his peregrinations, he had 
picked up a certain simple and decent civility. He 
received us, in fact, in his own dwelling with a good 
grace that enlivened the wretchedness of his smoky 
tent ; and this good grace was set off by a little touch 
of irony that was not without pungency. 

Our host's tent stood on the west bank of the Kon 
Cho, not far from the junction of two valleys, one of 
which opens to the south, is wide and dotted with 
fairly numerous tents and leads to Rudok in three days, 
while the other, narrower and deserted, goes up to the 
Kon6 Ding Pass on the wt\st We entered the latter, 
accompanied by the policeman, who, faithful to his 
promise, guided us to the Kashmir frontier with all the 
more alacrity in that he was showing us the way out and 
not the way in. On the 2oth of September, crossing 
the pass at a height of 17,985 feet, wo entered the 
Maharaja's territory. During all that day, we did 
nothing but climb up and down by sterile gorges, 
through which blew a fierce wind, laden with the cold of 
the glaciers. After passing the Pagrim La ((8,000 feet), 
we descended by an interminable stony and barren pipage, 
500 to 1,100 yards wide, between mountains 2,000 to 
2,500 feet high, with steep sides, bare and red, with 
enormous black rocks. On arriving at the end of thb 
defile, at 3 o'clock in the afternoon of the sust of Sep- 
tember, we saw, on the brink of a clear stream, a coppice 
consisting of humble shrubs called oml>u 9 in whose 
branches little birds were singing, Thb was the begin* 
ning of the end. We were now no higher than the top 
of Mont Blanc. A huge number of hares lived in that 



TObct 17 

coppice. We saw them on every side, basking and do/-ing 
in the sun, peaceful and unconscious of danger ; for the 
Tibgtans, who loathe the flesh of these animal*, never hunt 
them* We had the cruelty to disturb their security for 
the sake of varying our ordinary fare ; hut this sport was 
really too easy to be very amusing and peace was con- 
cluded almost as soon as broken, We took a day'** rest 
at this spot, which is called Mingy- u and which seemed 
to us the threshold of paradise. It wii^ not inhabited 
at this season of the year, but we saw u caravan of 
Tibetans encamped there who were carrying on sheep- 
back a quantity of silt, drawn from the Siwui Cho and 
other salt lakes of the region, to Leh, with a view to ex- 
changing it for flour, barley, woollens, cooking utensils, 
artificial pearls ami ornaments. Salt is entirely lacking 
n\ Ladak and is sold at its weight in barley, As> on the 
other hand, there is hardly any barley m the Rudok 
district, the natives do not hesitate to make the annual 
journey to Leh, which takes four months there and 
back. 

Although our Tibetan neighbours hut! left Niug/.u a. 
day before us, on the 23rd of September, we soon caught 
them up in the Gyu I-a Gorge, which the laden sheep 
were slowly climbing to the lazy, monotonous singing of 
the shepherds. The next morning, at six o'clock, came 
from Rudok four Tibetan mcBHengcn, in red turbans, 
carrying gaudy flags and making a great noise with the 
bells^hung round their horses* necks, Why did they enter 
a territory which in said to be British from Konc Ding ? 
I do not know ; but the fact is that they followed u 
for some distance, accosted us jtnd tried to turn UH anuic 
from the Gyu la and to make UH take a road more to 
the north. They had come to the wrong address ; 
we gave them to understand that we wanted neither their 
advtce nor their company; and, when they rode off, their 
bells sounded less noisily* The ascent of tlm Gyu L;i 

9 



18 

Gorge (18,700 feet), the highest which we observed 
in the course of our travels, is by an easy slope and offers 
neither dangers nor difficulties. On the other hand^the 
descent on the west, which is short but steep, may be 
dangerous or even impossible with snow or ice and is very 
difficult at any time. The top of the pass gives a mag- 
nificent view of enormous slices of mountains separated by 
transversal gorges, one overtopping the other and all sur- 
passed by the distant white summits of the chain which rises 
between Lake Pangong and the Indus. We made a quick 
descent of 3,300 feet, climbed up again to a height of 
16,600 feet and again went down some 1,800 feet to a 
little deserted, sandy, salt beach at the edge of one of the 
deep bays which cut the shore of Lake Pangong into 
scallops. This lake stretches tortuously, enclosed by 
huge rocky mountains, as though between the sides of 
a gigantic, odd-shaped cup. As Dutreuil de Rhins 
justly remarked, it reminds one of the Lake of the Four 
Cantons; but how much more majestic it is and how much 
gloomier ! In the presence of the Alps, man feels at his 
ease and, so to speak, on Nature's own level, for it appears 
to him as if the landscape had been created and composed 
for the express pleasure of the spectator, like a sta^e 
scene, or of the stroller, like an English garden- But, in 
Tibet, he feels too weak before the power of rude Nature, 
too small before the enormousness of what he sees ; he is 
crushed : the scene appears to him to have been painted 
for a race of Cyclops* 

On the 25th of September, we saw, at a height of 
14,200 feet, the first barley-fields and the first vassals of 
Her Britannic Majesty, who, at Lukong, inhabit wretched 
narrow dwellings contrived in the rocks of the mountain. 
It was forty-seven days since we had left Polur and of 
these we had spent thirty-nine days at a height of over 
1 6^000 feet It was time to arrive at inhabited place$, 
for, only the day before, we had been obliged to share our 



19 

provision of rice and flour with our beasts. However, 
we were no longer anxious about them nor about the fate 
of dthe caravan ; we were no longer afraid of falling short 
of victuals; and we no longer had to drink brackish water. 
We forgot our past sufferings, The traces which these 
had left on our faces seemed to disappear, such was the 
change that came over their expression. Our grim 
foreheads became unknit, our dull eyes grew brighter^ 
our stiff limbs received new suppleness in the genial 
warmth of hope. Those who had been quickest to yield 
to discouragement and least brave in the facing of pain 
assumed a valiant air. All laughed at the past, defied 
the future and treated the Chang La, which we had still 
to cross, as a wretched little mole-hill. 

One thing, however, spoilt our cheerfulness, which 
was the ill-health of our leader, who wan no longer able 
either to walk or ride* Always illj for many days unable 
to eat anything except a little flour mixed with tea, he 
had reached such a degree of weakness that, in spite of his 
wonderful courage in resisting suffering, he had become 
incapable of attending to the caravan and been obliged 
to reduce his work to a minimum, that is to say, to taking 
the astronomical observations and making a few summary 
notes. His physical pain had been aggravated by his 
smarting regret at not haying done what he wanted to do 
and by the grave care which the precarious position of the 
expedition had given him, As far as this, at least, was 
concerned, he was now reassured : the day of rest was 
approaching which would doubtless put an end to hi* 
sufferings; and the time was passing wnich, little by little, 
would dispel his regret* 

As we were making our appearance on British 
territory unannounced and without pansporta and as a 
Russian traveller had but recently turned Dock, there was 
a danger of our situation being rather delicate. Dutreuil 
de Rhins sent a messenger to the English resident at 



20 TEtbet 



who returned an amiable reply and gave orders that 
we were to be well treated on our way. 

On leaving Lukong, the traveller enters the Itng 
defile of Muglibj which is rocky, wild and deserted. On 
reaching the end, he sees, perched on a ledge of the 
mountain on the right, a thick, short tower, with a 
solitary stunted tree and, hanging from the flunks of the 
rocks on the left, a chapel with hardly distinguishable 
walls. Quite at the back, at the bottom of the valley, 
three or four houses, with a few square feet of lean 
crops, lie basking in the sun. Round about, a dozen 
sheep and small goats wander among the rocks, looking 
for the scarce grass. 

The village of TangUe, at 13,000 feet, is reached on 
the same day. It consists of twelve or fifteen houses, at 
the crossing of three gorges, amid a heaped-up mass of 
rocks and stones, AH is pale grey under a sapphire sky, 
except a clump of young willows which the Kashmir 
government has had planted to enliven the landscape, to 
give a welcome shade to summer travellers and also, no 
doubt, to instil into the Tibetans a taste for trees and 
civilisation. But the latter refuse to be beguiled : they 
see in trees a superflous invention, in civilisation a novelty 
against which it is well to be on their guard ; they are 
satisfied with the old customs of their fathers, with a few 
spikes of barley in the valley, with a few tufts of grass 
on the plateau, 

The local lama resides in a very inconvenient dwelling, 
but one particularly well situated and arranged to attract 
the attention of future Baedekers. When the traveller 
is shown this dwelling from the village, with, beside it> 
the red-painted chapel at the top of an iso!atx*4 rock, 
resembling a gigantic shaft of a ruined pillar, he U 
persuaded that the holy man lives only on what the birds 
of the sky bring him* As he approaches, he i undeceived 
and seea a sort of very steep and ahapclena atatrcasty half 



TTibet 21 

natural, half artificial, which clambers up the outside 
or even the inside of the rock and gives access to the 
lanaa's chamber, n bare, narrow room, with a hard floor, 
in which, however, one is as it were wrapped in the 
peace of the limpid sky and in which one feels nearer 
to the divine beings, the /Aas t who hover in the air, 
while, very far and very low down, he sees the almost 
imperceptible houses of the inferior and miserably rest- 
less race of men. 

At Tangtzc there is no representative of the Kashmir 
government nor of the British government. The popu- 
lation is allowed to look after its own affairs in its own way 
and hardly anything is asked of it save the payment of ;i 
fairly moderate and wisely-fixed tax. Nevertheless, we 
perceived the influence in the country of a people so 
practical as the Knglish by this fact, that, in order to pay 
our expenses, it was enough for us to give drafts payable 
at Leh, which were accepted without hesitation as cash. 

On the 29th of September, we camped at the hamlet 
of Durkug and, on the next morning, we set out at 
half-past seven to make the ascent of the Chang Lu 
Dutreuil de Rhins, who was prevented by toothache 
from eating and who was never free from pain, gave way 
to suffering and weakness. We had to carry him in a 
litter to surmount the slope of 5^080 feet which leads to 
the top of the pass, where we arrived at four o'clock in 
the afternoon. For three hours we marched through 
snow and ice and then descended, by a steep and narrow 
path, across blocks of stone, along gloomy precipices, to 
the village of Daghkar, where we pitched our tent at 
seven o'clock in the evening, 

The village of Daghkar con*Ut* of fifteen houses, 
backed against a huge rock wall, of which they aeern to 
be the natural excrescences* Thence the road leads 
through the more important and Jesa wild villages of 
Sagti and Chemdeh, Scarce and thin poplara outline their 



22 "ttibet 

slender foliage, already turning yellow, against the grey 
of the rocks ; and, in the fields, ploughmen urge on their 
indolent yaks while quavering a monotonous, dragging 
chant The road next emerges on the valley of the Indus, 
almost opposite the monastery of Himis, one of the 
richest and most famous in all Tibet and inhabited by a 
large number of Dugpa lamas. The Indus is here already 
an important stream, at least as wide as the Rhone in the 
Valais, and its green and powerful waters are crossed by 
no bridge. Its valley smiled gaily enough upon travellers 
who were descending from the desert of mountains, 
but it must appear morose and ill-humoured to those 
who come from Kashmir. It is fairly wide, contained 
within two tall, gloomy, rocky, rugged mountains, 
with straight sides and jagged ridges, lightly sprinkled 
with snow. The soil is strewn with fragments of rocks, 
leaving a scanty space, here and there, for a few fields 
of corn and barley. For the rest, the spectacle is one 
well calculated to please the eye* The Tibetans are great 
handlers of stone and have a genius for the picturesque. 
At the most unexpected places, on the most inacces- 
sible rocks rise stone buildings : chapels painted in red, 
little altars shaped like pyramids and known as thorium^ 
humble cells of solitary monks, monasteries ruined or 
still standing, that look like fortresses. 

On the 2nd of October, we came to a gravel plain, 
surrounded by a circle of barren, snow-topped mountains, 
at whose foot stood the green little oasis of Lch. A 
very wide wall, which runs along the road for several 
miles, adorned with flat stones bearing religious inscrip- 
tions, leads almost to the entrance of the town, which 
numbers about 3,000 inhabitants and consists almost 
solely of the street of the baxaar, a wide, clean street, 
lined with stone houses with one or two storeys, gdlirie 
and terraced roofs. Its appearance is on the whole more 
agreeable and more imposing than that of the mud towft 



Uibet as 

of Turkestan, such as Kashgar and Khotan. At the end 
of the street there rises abruptly a steep and rocky 
mountain, on whose slope is built a large rectangular 
stone house, less wide than high, which was once the 
palace of the Tibetan Kings. Right at the top of the 
mountain, an isolated chapel, with no visible access to it, 
is almost lost up there, in the blue sky. The descend- 
ant of the ancient kings, relegated to an honourable 
captivity at some distance from the town, is to-day no 
more than a respected, but vain image. 

The administration of the country is in the hands of 
a vizier, delegated by the Maharaja of Kashmir; and the 
English, in their capacity of protectors of the Maharaja, 
keep an assistant resident at Leh, whose special duty 
it is to protect trade, but also to control the Kashmir 
administration and to maintain in it certain principle** of 
equity and liberalism to which the Knglish have the good 
sense to remain firmly attached and to which the growth 
of their prestige among the peoples of Asia must 1> in 
no small measure ascribed, 

On our arrival, the British resident, Mr, Culitt,and 
the Vizier Argen Nuth offered the most cordial welcome 
to the travellers whom fortune had treated so badly in 
the course of an expedition, lusting one hundred ana si:t 
days, which had struck so severe a blow at' our leader's 
health and cost us the lives of half our beasts, Mr, 
Cubitt placed at our disposal a comfortable little white 
house, shaded by splendid poplars, where Dutreuil dt* 
Rhins was able to enjoy a few days* well -earned rett 
and recover some of hi old vigour. 

Leaving Leh on the aoth of October, on the next 
day we climbed the Kardcwg Mountain by a very narrow 
and exceedingly steep path, winding through an extra* 
ordinary accumulation of rocks. On the other side, a 
very stiff slope, covered with ice> leads to the bottom of 
a gorge, Pedestrians have great difficulty in descending 



24 {Tibet 

this slope without the Alpine climber's gear ; horses slide 
rather than step down to the foot of the neck ; and the 
yaks alone are able to carry baggage from the top teethe 
bottom without danger to themselves or their loads. We 
spent the night at the hamlet of Kardong, which stands 
at the foot of the mountain all covered with masses of 
stone, among which the twenty stone houses of the hamlet 
are difficult to distinguish. Thence the road descends by 
the very picturesque gorge of the little Kardong torrent, 
enlivened by small shrubs which grow in the interstices 
of the rocks, and comes out into the stony valley of the 
River Shayok, which is easily fordable at this season. 
Below the tiny village of Chati, the Shayok receives an 
affluent on the right, the Nubra, which we went up. Its 
valley, which is fairly wide, is considered the most fertile 
in Ladak. ft stretches between two huge walls of over 
3,300 feet in height, formed of bare rocks which shoot 
up their countless grey peaks into the blue of the sky. 
The bottom of the valley is no less grey and barren 
than the mountain walls which overlook it and is 
only dotted here and there with brown patches, sorry 
oases reddened by the autumn, where a few acres of 
wheat and barley and a few fruit-trees struggle for 
their lives amid the stone and sand. The name of 
Pangmig, which the Tibetans give to one of these 
oases, describes them all admirably. Pangmtg mean** 
" eye of verdure." This rugged nature of Ladak docs 
not make existence easy to man: unable to tame it, the 
Tibetan submits to it, in the same way as he submits 
to the yoke of his new masters, with the wild gentle- 
ness of a captive antelope. Rugged as nature nerself 
in his outward aspect, bristling, dirty and ragged, he 
is morally weak, indifferent and, like all weak creatures, 
suspicious and insincere ; but he pleases by an unpre- 
tentious gaiety which forms a happy contrast with the 
solemn gravity of the Moslem* 



On the 24th of October, we slept at the village of 
Pangmig, where the caravans stop to buy the victuals 
neaded for the crossing of the desert mountains to Sugct 
Kurghan and to hire yaks with which to climb the 
passes of Karwal and Sassar La. We were kindly helped 
in our preparations by the tkha of the valley of Nubra, 
who, a rare thing, understood Persian well. On the 26th, 
all was ready and we went as far as the insignificant 
hamlet of Ljanglong, where we took leave of the last 
Tibetans, !<Yom there, with the assistance of his yaks, 
the traveller climbs the mountain wall on the left bunk 
of the N ubra by the Karwul Puss, goes up the gorge of 
the Tulumbuti, strewn with mountain refuse and over- 
towered by snowy peaks and glaciers, and ascends the 
glacier of the Sassar I /a. ; then, abandoning the yak% he 
goes up the gorge of one of the sources of the Shayok 
and, splashing in the water, passes at the foot of the 
Kichik and Chong Kumdan glaciers. Our guide main- 
tained that, Ufty years ago, there was no passage there, 
the glaciers touching the mountains opposite, very steep 
mountains, from whose summits a mass of rocks stands 
out, resembling the ruins of a very enormous castle, 
which the Turks have 4 christened the 1'ulacc of AfnusKtab. 
Further on, the valley opens out and forms a circle of 
snow-mountains, in which the River Shayok spread* 
into a long lake. 

Here stands Yapchan, where we camped on the 2 9th 
of October, Beginning from here, the general aspect of 
the country is modified* After leaving Leh, the country 
had presented a series of wild and deep valleys, separated 
by high, steep and difficult pase ; but the ground wt 
firm and the march offered no danger when there was 
not too much snow and ice. Beyond Yapchan, the 
mountains have the same character which we had already 
observed in the Ustun Tagh : rounded summit** gentle 
slopes, high, wide, barren valleys, a ground which tn soft 



when it is not frozen and inconsiderable differences or 
level. This character continues as far as the Suget Pass, 
starting from which we again find the steep mountains, 
the pointed summits, the narrow and grassy gorges of the 
Altyn Tagh. 

On the 3 ist of October, we crossed the Karakoram 
Pass, the summit of the Ustun Tagh. It is the highest 
pass on the route (18,300 feet), but not the most difficult, 
for there is no ice and the rugged portion of the ascent is 
very short. An inscription, placed at the summit, marks 
the boundary between the States of the Maharaja of 
Kashmir and those of the Emperor of China. A little 
lower, on the northern slope, covered with black rocks 
and occasional patches of snow, a modest monument has 
been raised by the care of our fellow-countryman, 
M, Dauvergne, to the memory of the KngHsh traveller 
Dalgleish, who was murdered in this spot by an Afghan 
trader. 

The portion of the road which lies between the 
Karwal and Suget Passes is the most arduous because of 
its extreme altitude, its barrenness, its lack of habita- 
tions and its low temperature. We had as many as 
29 degrees of cold, and on the same day, the 3Oth of 
October, we observed a variation of 35 degrees, from 
6 above to 29 below zero. But it would be ungracious 
on our part to complain, for this same road was being 
traversed, in the opposite direction, by old men, women 
and children going on pilgrimage to Mecca. Many of 
them were on foot and the majority had no tents; when 
the evening came, strengthened by a handful of maize 
boiled in water and a cup of bud tea, they squatted down, 
pressing one against the other and shivering around a 
poor fire, which soon went out, for fuel is scarce in this 
treeless region. As poor in intelligence as in purse, these 
pilgrims, young and old, have only the discomfort of the 
journey and do not in the least enjoy the charms which 



Utbet 27 

it would have for us. They go like their beasts of 
burden, observing nothing, interested in nothing, their 
mirvA never drawn from its torpor by the varied spectacle 
that unfolds itself before their eyes, which look and do 
not see. They are content to reach the golden city, there 
to perform their pilgrim rites and to bring back with 
them a good policy of insurance against hell-fire* 

From the foot of the Karakoram, we passed 
through a series of amphitheatres of mountains which 
do not appear to be very high, crossed the principal 
source of the Yarkand River ami, on the 2nd of 
November, reached the Suget Puss, the ascent of which 
could, if necessary, be made in a carriage. After deseend- 
ing a very steep and sinuous path, over a thin layer of 
snow, we soon came down through a gorge of wild and 
melancholy aspect, lined by great snowy musscN laden 
with mist. We walked ahead alone, eager to leave the 
desert; we were soon overtaken by the shades of iii^htf, 
which increased the w/,e of the mountains and swelled 
the uproar of the waters. The veiled and uncertain light 
of the moon just enabled us to pick our wuy through 
a maze of rocks, a long scries of rugged , ravines and 
noisy torrents, and to arrive, after twelve hours' 
march, at the foot of the small fort of Suget Kurghan, 
constructed lately by the Chinese neur the confluence 
of the Suget torrent nnd the Karakash River, in 
order to assert their rights of possession over the sur- 
rounding district. Thia little fort is composed simply 
of a square yard surrounded by four crenellated walls* 
Our sudden arrival at this unseasonable hour spread 
terror among the garrison, which at that time com- 
prised a Kirghiz woman, three boy bubie* and a lame 
dog. The woman at first breathed ot a word, thinking 
that, if the importunate persons heard nothing or 
nobody, they would go their way* But her dog be- 
trayed her and we lustily shook the door, to *meh good 



28 tribet 

purpose that the unfortunate garrison had to admit the 
besiegers. Our respectable appearance stilled the alarm : 
the dog stopped barking, the children laughed^ the 
woman showed us to an empty room, spread out some 
strips of felt and lit a great fire of twigs, for the cold 
was keen. Our baggage train did not catch us up 
until the evening of the next day. 

On the 5th of November, after passing through the 
gorge of the Karakash River, at the foot of the walls of 
the fortlet of Shaidullah, built by the Kashmirians and 
long since abandoned by them, we came, at Toghrusu, 
into the midst of the gay tumult of a Kirghi'/ wedding. 
Numbers of horsemen, coming from the four points 
of the horizon, had met at this spot and pitched their 
round felt tents, They were holding high festival and 
singing at the top of their voices. We were treated to 
a madrigal and presented with a bride-cake and hulf a 
roast sheep. 

On the 7th, we left the Karaksish IXura, the valley of 
which is impracticable in the downward direction, and 
began to ascend the gorge of one of its affluents which 
runs down from the SanjuPass. Imagine an exceedingly 
narrow gorge, whimsically tortuous, deeply confined 
within tall peaked rocks, bare and strangely hewn and 
slashed and the whole gorge obstructed by flint rubbish, 
On reaching the end of this gorge, we found ourselves 
as though at the bottom of a well. With the assistance 
of some Kirghiz oxen, we scaled one of the walk of the 
well and thus reached the summit of the Sanju Pass, 
which is at a height of 16,800 feet. From there, accord- 
ing as one turns to the north or the south, the view 
offers a striking contrast. In the south is a monstrous 
chaos of gigantic snow-mountains and dazzling glacier^ 
which the rays of the sun sometimes cause to look 
like great blue lakes slumbering amid a polar white- 
ness ; in the north, a few brown hills, beyond which 



29 

stretches something like a vast ocean wrapped in a 
shroud of grey mist : this is the Kashgariau plain 
audits atmosphere laden with dust. 

The ascent of the pass was not easy, but the descent 
was worse. The slope is so steep that, in a league of 
horizontal projection, one descends 1,880 metres and, 
for a distance of 800 metres, the slope, at 45 degrees, 
is covered with a thick layer of ice. The yaks are 
really wonderful animals which, descending a mountain 
like this, uury over two hundred pounds on their backs 
without stumbling. Our horses, although carrying no 
burden, did three-fourths of the road in some other 
way than on their feet : one of them slipped so badly 
that it was hurled to the bottom of the valley and 
broke its spine. 

At the top of the pass, we overtook a poor little 
caravan consisting of an old man, a woman and two 
children. Their baggage and all their fortune were carried 
by a lean, mangy donkey, The old man, whose feet 
were frozen and eaten away with gangrene, was unfit 
for anything. The woman saw to everything, led the 
donkey, fastened the pack-saddle when it slipped, tied 
up the load when it fell, helped the old man and 
carried the children in the difficult places. Her air of 
suffering, her drawn features, her bloodshot and lack- 
lustre eyes, told of a hard life and long affliction. These 
unfortunate people, who were returning to Sanju, had 
exposed themselves to the dangers of this journey and its 
almost inconceivable fatigues, in the circumstances in which 
they were taking it, in order to go and visit, under a 
distant tent, kinsmen almost as unfortunate as themselves, 
from whom they vaguely hoped for I know not what* 
Nothing is more extraordinary than the auite mechanical 
resistance with which Asiatics meet suffering and the dull 
resignation with which they accept it as a guality inherent 
to this world, as an inexorable necessity or fate. 



so 

From the foot of the pass, one follows a deep, grassy 
valley, here and there meeting the round tents of Kirghiz 
herdsmen. Little by little, the mountains grow lower, 
the valley wider, the grass disappears, the sand shows 
itself and one sees, between two dusky hills, the trees of 
the oasis of Sanju. Here there are some thousand 
houses, scattered on every side, and a considerable 
amount of ground under cultivation; and it is easy for 
the traveller to procure all that he wants provided that 
his wants be modest. 

On the 2ist of November, we once more entered 
our good town of Khotan, much saddened by the winter, 
The flat plain was all carpeted with snow and the black 
skeletons of the trees stood drearily outlined in the 
mist; but the kindly welcome of our old friends cheered 
this desolation* A few weeks of absolute rest and the 
general sympathy with which he was surrounded re- 
stored Dutreuil de Rhins' health, consoled him for his 
vexations and made him ready once more to tempt 
fortune, 

This winter of 1892 to 1893 was occupied, as was 
the previous one, with ethnographical, archaeological and 
linguistic studies, which formed part of the programme 
of our mission, In this connection, I may be permitted 
here to recall the fact that we really laid the foundation 
of the archaeology of Chinese Turkestan and assisted to 
renew its history- Many travellers after us, such a*? 
Messrs, Klementz, Sven Hedin and Stein, have made 
remarkable discoveries in this branch of research and 
have on more than one point confirmed my own 
conclusions. 



CHAPTER II 

MARCH ON LHASA- THE MOUNTAIN DKSERT THK 

NAM CHO NEGOTIATIONS WITH THE 

TIBETAN OFFICIALS 



We go in search of a new route to Lha&a to the south of 

We reach the extreme point known tn the nativcft-Wc cw 
the Akku Tagh The Dutrcui! dc ithiflft ChainAfluin the mountain 
dcftcrt We mct our firt mim after wxty*one day** marchThe 
Tibetan* try to atop us- The prefect of Benja Jong The Nam Cho or 
Tengri Nor Firnt envoy** frnm Lhutw- Arrival of tho Chinenc vice- 
legate and of new delegates from the Tibetan government- 
We are refused pcrmittHion to go to Uwu We iire given kuvti to 
fltuy at Nagchu, 

THK problem how to cross the mountain desert which 
separated us from the inhabited portion of Tibet seemed 
to us almost insoluble with a caravan of horses which 
eat too much (4 Ita, a day) and carry too little (200 Ibs,); 
and we decided to procure camels for our expedition of 
1893 and to seek a route more practicable than that of 
Polur for the latter animals, 

We thought that we might find one to the south of 
Cherchen, where we proceeded and where we stayed 
for three months because of various difficulties and an 
illness of Dutrcuil de Rhin\ Our long stay appeared 
even longer in this little oasis without a town, without ft 
market, without trade, peopled only by jpttmnts living in 
scattered farms, seventy-six league* from the nearest 
village, a hundred leagues from the nearest town and as 
isolated in the midst of the continent u is an islet never 

81 



32 

visited by ships in the midst of the sea. On every side 
around spreads the ocean of the sand-downs, except on 
the north, where, along the bank of the river, stretches 
a belt of forest half invaded by sand, a haunt of 
deer, wild boar and even tigers. The traveller rarely 
passes here; no caravans come to enliven the country 
with the tinkling of their bells, the cries of their camel- 
drivers, the snorting of their horses, the bustle of their 
arrival and departure; the news of the distant outside 
world does not penetrate so far, or, when, sometimes, 
a small trader brings it with his bales of cotton and 
spice, it arrives distorted, vague and confused, leaving 
one and all indifferent. 

We made a number of reconnoitring expeditions, 
which failed to decide the question whether it were possible 
to cross the chain of the Akka Ttigh, which rises to the 
south of the Altyn Tagh and forms the prolongation of 
the Ustun Tagh. However, we resolved to start. We 
had over seven tons of baggage, provisions and stores 
not counting the pack-saddles and harness. To handle 
this enormous, but irreducible load and to attend to our 
thirty camels, twenty-four horses ami ten donkeys, we 
had only thirteen men* 

We had had to renew a part of our staff, not 
always very successfully, Chinese Turkestan being an 
unfavourable country for the recruiting of a good 
exploring staff. We kept the leader of our escort, 
Razoumoff, a discharged Russian soldier, a willing and 
well-meaning, but volatile and eccentric man, subject to 
strange crotchets, and old Parpai, an experienced cara- 
vaneer and an amusing type of patriarchal adventurer, 
who had a mania for founding families wherever he 
went, hoping at last to light upon an heiress for a wife, 
whose well-filled money-bags would allow him to put an 
end to his peregrinations and to rest his weary head* 
We took as our Chinese secretary a aort of giant, a 



33 

native of Hunan, a petty mandarin whom life had 
tossed miserably from province to province and flung 
inter the midst of Turkestan almost without resources : 
apart from all this, he was serious, well-educated, a good 
writer and not devoid of firmness of character. We 
engaged, in the capacity of Chinese interpreter, a certain 
Yunus, a young man of very good family, tall, strong 
and with a florid complexion showing every sign of 
health. But the signs were deceptive. The unfortunate 
man suffered from heart-disease, which proved fatal to 
him, A Moslem from Ladak, Mohammed isa, became 
our interpreter for the Tibetan language. Six feet high 
and powerfully built, he was a good servant, well-trained, 
useful, active, full of spirits as long as he had not to 
struggle with too-exceptional difficulties ; unfortunately, 
he was unintelligent, self-conceited, a great bouncer and 
a ridiculous coward, He had as his understudy a half- 
breed between a Turk and a Tibetan, Abdurrahman by 
name, a short, slight, diligent and very gentle creature, 
who was entirely in the hands of his big fellow-country- 
man, Mohammed Isa. 

On the jrd of September, the expedition started 
gaily in the sun. The horses, fresh and well-fed, went 
at a brisk pace ; the long string of camels unwound 
itself majestically in the plain and their tinkling bells 
seemed to sing the end of the boredom of repose, the 
joy of action, the freedom of the wide horizons, the hope 
ol fine discoveries, Alas, this music was soon to grow 
slower and sadder in the weariness of the endless road, 
the many sounds to cease, one after the other, until the 
final silence, when the last of those patient servants had 
fallen exhausted on a desert mound 1 But who foresaw 
this future and thought of it then ? Who foresaw that 
even these losses would be an nothing beside those 
which were still in reserve for us ; that a day would come 
when the entire mission would be dispersed, sacked, 

8 



34 Utbet 

almost annihilated without a trace ; that of the men now 
full of strength one of the youngest would die, after a 
long agony, on the harsh soil of the infidels ; above^all, 
that another, the first, the best, would die a tragic 
death, that the lamentable wreck of him who had been 
our leader would be sent rolling down the waves of a 
mountain stream ? When we left Cherchen, our imagina- 
tion described to us a very different future and read in 
the sky none but happy omens, 

On the 6th and yth, we halted at Tukus Davan, the 
last inhabited spot, and, on the 8th, we once more set out 
to cross the Altyn Tagh, which, on this side, spreads in 
the shape of a fan and presents a different appearance 
from that which it offers in the Polur district, There lie 
wild and inhospitable valleys, jealously closed against the 
rays of the sun and delighting in shadow and colti ; here 
friendly and good-humoured valleys, which open wide 
and joyous to receive the light and warmth of day* 
One cannot conceive an easier natural road, leading by a 
gentler slope to a height equal to that of Mont Blanc. 
On the way we met our first gold-seekers, returning 
from Bokalyk, The poor fellows had reaped more 
misery than gold ; and the same men whom I had 
seen a few months before on the road from Nia to 
Cherchen, full of spirits and gaiety in the ruin and 
hail, 1 now saw hanging their heads, dragging their feet, 
shivering as they held the pitiful rags of tneir clothes 
to their emaciated bodies, while the sun shone in vain 
to warm them, for they had nothing left in their 
wallets, not even hope. One of them, who wa from 
Kashgar, having not enough left to bring him home, 
asked us to take him into our service, tie little cared 
that the road was long and rough, that he would have 
to go through Tibet, Mongolia, China> provided that, 
the trip done, he were able to return to his household 
gods. 



tttbet 35 

At a short day's march from Tukus Davan, we left 
the Cherchen River and, leaving the route of the PievtsofF 
Mission on the east, we climbed the main chain of the 
Altyn Tagh by the Gold-washers' Pass (Zarchu Davan^ 
15,680 feet), so called because, a few miles to the south, 
there is a gold-mine, which is now abandoned. The 
stiff part of this pass being very short, the crossing is 
easy. From here we went down to a first plateau 
watered by the Toghru Su, a slow and muddy river, 
where the donkeys got involved in the mire to such an 
extent that we had to unload them and laboriously drag 
them across. This stream is an affluent of the Olugh 
Su, which, with the Muxluk Su, the biggest and most 
easterly of the three, forms the Cherchen Daria, Opposite 
us there rose, above the plateau, an enormous mountain- 
chain, like a perpendicular wall denticulated with snowy 
peaks. We were not long in discovering that this 
threatening obstacle was mere vanity, for the Olugh Su 
intersects it and the valley of the river offers an easy,, 
wide and almost flat road. 

On the 1 4th of September, we camped on the left 
bank, not far from the Akka Tagh, whose crests were 
hidden by the mountains in the foreground. It WAS 
useless to take the caravan further before knowing if it 
could cross the mountains and where ; and on the 
morning of the I5th of September, Dutreuil cle Rhins, 
leaving me in charge of the camp, set out reconnoitring 
to seek a passage across the Akka Tagh. 

On his return, he found the best of our men 
and the one who had been longest with us, Musa> in 
bed, attacked for the third time with an inflammation of 
the chest. He was decidedly not fit to travel on thoe 
lofty, icy, wind-swept table-lands* On the sixth tUv, 
feeling better, he asked for his discharge, which we could 
not refuse him. He left us on the 23rd. It was hard 
for us to part with a mau for whom we had always felt a 



36 Uibct 

great esteem and it gave us a pain at the heart to see him 
go off in so sad a plight and not even to feel certain that 
he could stand the journey. Many months after/ at 
Sining, 1 had the pleasure of learning by a letter from the 
prefect of Khotan that he had arrived safely in that town 
and was living there quietly with his wife and child, who, 
when all is said, may have counted for something in his 
illness and his determination to leave us. 

Those first days spent at a minimum altitude of 
14,400 feet had already given us a disagreeable foretaste of 
the journey which we had undertaken. The gusts of wind 
and the snow-flakes had entered upon the scene and, on 
the 23rd of September, the snow covered the ground, 
slowly evaporating or more slowly soaking into the 
earth, without perceptibly swelling the stream.' The cokl 
was severe for the season of the year ; and, in the tent, 
we had constantly to hold the ink to the fire before we 
could write with it. Although the fine weather, the clear 
sky and the sun had returned, we hat! only 4 degrees 
of heat in the tent at one o'clock in the afternoon ; at 
night, the thermometer fell to 15 degrees below y,ero. 
When cm his reconnoitring-trip, Dutreuil de Rhins hud 
observed a variation in one day of 40 degrees : this was 
worse than the I^adak route at the same time of year. 

On the 24th of September, while the natives who had 
come with us to carry the supplementary provisions went 
back with our last mail to the warm and populous plain, 
we plunged ittto the cold and desert mountains, alone 
henceforth in the unknown, with no other support than 
our patience, already tried by long exercise, and no other 
guide than our star, of which nothing had as yet occurred 
to dim the lustre, 

1 have now to describe the journey which we per- 
formed across a region which man had never penetrated* 
I will not dwell upon this narrative, which, if unfolded 
at too great a length, would not fail to displease through 



TObet 37 

its monotony. The things which we saw in the course 
of this long march were things great and magnificent, 
nS doubt, hut always the same, so much so that for 
us the days were distinguished one from the other by 
the date which we inscribed in our journal ; barren 
and dreary things : 

Deserts ittlc, 

Rough quarries, rocks and hills whose heads touch heaven ; 

immense countries where nothing passes but the wind, 
where nothing happens but geological phenomena* If 
the valiant Moor had hud no more interesting subjects of 
conversation, he would have stood but a small chuncc of 
winning the most willing of hearts. 1 could not, like 
Othello, enliven these rugged landscapes with marvellous 
adventures nor people them with strange men " whose 
heads do grow beneath their shoulders." For sixty days,, 
man attracted our attention only by his absence* thus 
depriving my description of any other element of variety 
than our own sufferings and our own miseries, upon 
which it would be in particularly bad taste for an 
explorer to enlarge in doleful fashion, seeing that he 
faces and braves them of his own free will. 1 shall 
therefore be brief. 

On the 25th of September, our caravan reached the 
basin of the Karamuren in the first masses of the Akka 
Taeh, which had already been visited by Dutreuil de 
Rhins, and, on the next day, we ascended by a steep 
slope, covered with several feet of snow, that which our 
leader mistakenly believed to be the chief chain of the 
system. On the other side, we camped, amid u confusion 
of blocks and of black schistose slabs, on the brim of a 
sort of dark funnel, overlooked by a chaos of fantastically 
shaped mountains which seemed #s it were surprised to 
see us. At night, we experienced 30 degrees of cold 
and lost two horses* It was a fine start, an eloquent 
exordium M abruplo; but our resolve was taken, our 



38 ZKbet 

determination fixed beforehand and our ears closed to 
all adverse argument. On the syth, we reached the 
banks and were not far from the most important afid 
most southerly source of the Karamuren. The springs 
of this river were now completely discovered. Its 
valley, which is at an altitude of 1 7,050 feet, is nearly 
two miles wide, is as smooth and level as a floor 
and, like the other valleys of the Akka Tagh, is of a 
schistose character and absolutely barren and desert : not 
a tuft of grass, not a trace of animal life, not a bird flying, 
nothing but a little water flowing swift and clear over tfie 
fijit pebbles. Near us, on our left, rose a colossal mass of 
snow and ice, solidly fixed on its enormous base and 
shooting up its tallest peak to a height 1 of 23, [40 feet 
This is the highest point not only of the chain, but 
probably also of the whole region between Turkestan 
ami the Himalayas* ft long remained in sight, diminish- 
ing slowly on the hori/on behind us: at 100 miles to 
the south, we still distinctly saw its crystal pyramid, 
which seemed to throne in its immutable majesty over the 
numerous nation of the mountains. 

The next day* march took us to the top of a pass of 
18,200 feet on the sky-line of the Akka Tagh, It was 
with beating hearts that we plunged our cyc down the 
other side ; for, if our good fortune had permitted us to 
open out a passage across the first of the chains that 
separated us from Tibet, there was nothing to guarantee, 
since there had never been a road in this direction, that 
we should not see a definitely insurmountable barrier rise 
beyond it* We were reassured when we discovered 
beneath us a table-land twenty-five miles in width, closed 
at the south by a line of mountains with summits cut into 
almost regular peaks, which fringed the sky with a white 
lace-work, but which had in their midst, straight before 
u* and clearly outlined, a pass that seemed to be awsyting 
us, We were in a pleasant mood, therefore, that evening, 



ttfbet 39 

when camping at the southern foot of the Akka Tagh, 
Nothing could be more characteristic of these countries 
oMLJpper Asia than what we saw from our tent, this 
immense desert plateau stretched between two snow- 
topped walls. The ground which, seen from above, 
appears almost flat is, in reality, dented with little 
hills and hillocks, intersected by ravines, generally 
without water, and ploughed with a number of de- 
pressions in which lie hidden as many muddy pools, 
the humble satellites of the great, blue, infinitely 
peaceful lake, which reflects the sun or the clouds 
and no other thing. The soil is cracked by the frost, 
brown in colour :uul only just relieved, at distant 
intervals, by a patch of snow or a small yellow stain of 
rough, short grass, while beyond, ovcrtowcring all, the 
huge snow mountains, with their heavy, thickset shapes^ 
as though overwhelmed by the weight of their glouuy 
solemness, complete the impression of desolate weariness 
received from this landscape so antagonistic to life. 

At this camp of the 29th of September, one of our 
camels died and in the empty sky appeared black specks, 
which, as they came nearer, we recognised us crown of 
extraordinary si'/,e, hastening to the banquet. They were 
the forerunners of Tibet, the liuul of the great crow 4. 
These filthy marauders, flying from carcass to areas*, 
make their way everywhere, even to places where no 
sparrow, eagle nor kite dare venture ; nevertheless, they 
respect the Akka Tagh, where nothing dies since nothing 
lives there, the Akka Tagh, which is too wide to allow 
the smell of dead flesh to reach the keenest scent front 
one of its extremities to the other. For this reason, on 
the north of this chain, only the small crown of 
Turkestan are seen, similar to our own. The Akka 
Tagh is the most absolute of frontiers, a frontier for the 
sky as well as for the earth, for birds as well us for men, 
This dead camel permitted us also to make an interesting 



40 

note on the moral value of the European and Asiatic 
dogs respectively. Musa had with him a very pretty 
Russian bitch, which, at the time of our last start fi*>m 
Khotan, had given birth to a litter of pups. We had 
kept one of these and had brought it as far as Cherchen 
in a pannier on horseback. It retained a lively gratitude 
for the beast which had rendered it this service and it 
was curious to observe the familiarity and the good 
intelligence that reigned between the two animals. By 
a singular effort of generalisation, the dog had extended 
its affection not only to all the horses, even those not 
belonging to our caravan, but to all the quadrupeds, 
including the camels. It could not see one of these 
animals without going up to it and giving it a friendly 
lick on its muzzle, which often brought down upon it a 
pretty severe rebuff on the part of the cross-grained 
brutes. It had a playmate in the person of an Asiatic 
dog, the property of one of our men. This latter 
animal had none of its companion's affectionate gaiety ; 
although well treated by us, it was unsociable and 
melancholy, dull and indifferent to everything except 
its food. When it saw the camel Jying on the ground, 
it reflected, like the true Asiatic that it was, that here 
was a rich quarry which would last it for many a long day, 
that there was no longer any need for it to follow those 
fools who were constantly travelling up hill and down 
dale : it therefore set itself beside the carcass and no 
efforts on our part availed to induce it to stir* Its 
companion, on the contrary, followed us without our 
having to call it. Like man, like dog. 

On the 3rd of October, we camped on the same 
plateau in the hollow of a little vale which was as a smile 
in the midst of that harsh nature. It was carpeted all 
over with very short, but almost green grass; a little 
stream of clear water flowed through it ; the tops of the 
slopes assumed a golden hue under the rays of the setting 



sun ; the sky, slightly paled, was steeped in a very pure 
and very soft light. Disturbed by our arrival, two supple 
faltew antelopes got up before us, swiftly crossed the 
valley and disappeared in a few bounds. It was not 
an earthly paradise, yet this momentary relaxation of 
the austerity of the outside world sufficed to give our 
men fresh heart for their work. One of them broke 
into song : a neighbouring hare, startled at this novel 
clamour, darted from its form and, in the twinkling 
of an eye, ran up and over the hill. 

The next day, wu climbed, through a rather rough 
ravine, the chain which bounds the plateau on the south. 
On the vexed crest of these mountains, the snow lay 
thick and the blast raised it in whirlwinds. When 
descending by a narrow gully, the bottom of which was 
occupied by a frozen brook, we were almost stopped by 
a cascade of ice, three feet deep, which hung perpendicu- 
larly over a frozen slope. European horses would have 
broken their necks, I think; ours jumped without any 
accident When the camels* turn came, it seemed to us, 
for a moment, that we should have to look for another 
road for them, especially as the rocks were extremely 
close together. However, on taking our measurements, 
we found the $pace between to be wide enough and, 
after half an hour's efforts, we succeeded in making the 
first camel take the plunge. The others followed, all 
without misadventure, except one, which broke its leg, 
As for the donkeys, we had to lift them down* 

In the evening, we pitched our tent on the margin of 
a narrow lake which stretched its gleaming dark-blue waters 
far to the east between bright-red mountains. The view 
was unusually striking. Beyond extends a scries of large 
mountainous folds, which, rising gradually one above 
the other, form a chain descending suddenly, in the south, 
upon another lacustrine valley, which we reached on the 
7th of October* Next came hills and lakes, with here and 



42 

there one or two conical mountains, once perhaps volcanoes. 

On the roth of October, we climbed a lofty chain 
on whose southern slope we saw, for the first tme, 
three stones blackened by fire, undoubtedly the remains 
of a camp of Tibetan huntsmen. Lower down, on the 
brink of a torrent, in a narrow dale that formed as it 
were a gulf of the main valley, a grassy vale strewn with 
great rocks which Nature had carved with a pretty fanci- 
fulness and disposed at random for the pleasure and 
marvel of the eyes, rose a boundary-stone with the in- 
evitable inscription, " Om want pndmi hum" and near it, 
on the slope, according to the Tibetan custom, a small 
enclosure of dry stones, u hearth and sheep-droppings. 
These vestiges of a shepherds' camp gave us cause for 
reflection ; for, if we came upon men so early, we should 
necessarily be stopped long before reaching the Nam Cho, 
which lay nearly four degrees further south. However, a 
more careful examination convinced us that this encamp- 
ment had been abandoned for several years, that those 
who had constructed it in these remote parts could have 
had no imitators, that, in a word, it was an isolated and 
quite exceptional endeavour ; and, in fact, we marched 
tor many a long day after without coming across any 
similar traces. This opinion was confirmed by the fearless 
behavour of the wild animals, which were pretty numer- 
ous in the neighbourhood. The antelopes alone refused 
to let us approach them and kept in the distance, often 
hardly visible, but recognisable by their great gleaming 
horns, straight, curved or twisted. 

The wild asses, looking like nimble and frisky mules, 
attracted by our horses, came gambolling by twos and 
threes near our caravan ; and then, startled at the un- 
accustomed things which they saw, the graceful beasts 
stopped and, at the slightest movement, at the least cry, 
swiftly and lightly scampered away* Families of huge 
yaks, with long, black hair, watched us pass with a 



43 

vaguely astonished air and only on hearing a rifle-shot 
made off at a heavy trot, leaving the oldest of the herd 
behftid them. This patriarch received the bullets with 
remarkable equanimity, contenting himself with flourish- 
ing his tail as though to drive away the flies* One day, 
we shot seventeen rifle-bullets at a yak and found a 
dozen at least in his body. The flesh of this stubborn 
beast was so tough that we were unable to eat it even 
after several days' stewing. For that matter, we rarely 
indulged in the pleasures of the chase, which would have 
interfered with our labours and soon exhausted our small 
remaining stock of ammunition. 

On the 1 4th of October, we began the crossing of 
another chain of mountains almost its tall as the Akka 
Tagh. On its southern slopes, a few wild onions grew at 
a height of almost 17,400 feet; above that, the barrenness 
was absolute. The west wind, which had not spared UH 
for the space of one hour since we had crossed the 
Zarchu Davan, was even more terrible during the two 
days occupied in crossing this chain. The unwearying 
infernal tempest 

Lu bufcra infernal, cho mm non 



rushed through space, furious, merciless, fiercely roaring, 
with, at moments, a maddened increase of strength, as 
though it would have bent the impassive summits of the 
mountains. The Run shone in the sky, lavishly shedding 
its unimpeded light ; but not one of its rays of heat 
reached us : the hurricane carried them all away and 
plunged icy needles through our furs into our skin. 
The horses, whose flanks were exposed to this torrent 
of air which they resisted with difficulty, were Htrangc 
to see, with their bodies slanting to the right against 
the wind, their heads turned to the left for breath, 
their manes and tails floating horizontally in the same 
direction. It was a hard business to take the bearings 



44 Uibet 

of our route and to compass the horizon in so high a 
wind and Dutreuil de Rhins never forgot the tortures 
which he underwent in attempting his astronomical 
observations in these conditions. On the I4th, we 
climbed a first pass and a second and higher one which 
led us to the very heart of the snow-mountains. On 
the 1 5th, we resumed our march to cross the southern- 
most ridge, which, as usual, was the highest (18,470 
feet).* Our men, terrified at this endless mountain 
desert, were seized with an ardent longing to escape from 
it, to see something different. At each step, we felt that 
they were becoming more impatient to know what would 
appear in sight behind that topmost crest, which seemed 
constantly to retire before them; for, as each summit was 
surmounted, another rose ahead. Nevertheless, by dint 
of climbing, we at last reached the final ascent : a few 
steps more and we should discern from on high a new 
horizon, a more clement, more human landscape, perhaps 
a noisy stream flowing through green meadows, with, in a 
corner, a winding column of smoke, They reached the 
top, they looked greedily and frank disappointment was 
pictured on every face. To a distance of many days' 
march, the view on every side stretched over a gloomy 
desert of bleak valleys and hills, bounded by glaciers and 
giant mountains whose imperturbable serenity was not 
far removed from insolence. We ourselves were almost 
deceived : the mountain was perpendicular, a real abyss 
opened under our feet, rendering the valley inaccessible* 
After wandering for some time on the ridge, we fount! 
a practicable descent, although it was very rugged and 
bristled with sharp, pointed pebbles. It was only with 
great difficulty that we succeeded in leading our camels 
to the bottom. 

On the next day, the wind having veered round to 
the north, the temperature fell, the sky was overcast 

* I have called tliw pa by the mime of Dutrcuil de Hhing. 



TObet 45 

and snow began to fall in thick flakes and to collect on 
the ground The atmosphere was no more than a sea 
of grey clouds, impenetrable to the eye. This lasted for 
five days, keeping us in camp. They were five days of 
mortal weariness, during which we had to remain in our 
cramped, dark tent, shivering under our heapcd-up furs 
and blankets, our feet aching with cold, our beards and 
mustaches laden with icicles, ourselves unable to make 
a fire, or stir, or hold pen or pencil, The horses, 
frozen by the snow that covered them, vainly scratching 
the ground for grass, roamed about shivering ami 
dejected. The camels, very different in character, lying 
motionless in a row, were as patient on the halt as on 
the march, seemed not to feel the wind that blew 
through their coats, the snow that gathered on their 
backs, the want of grass, the hunger that slowly reduced 
them, and turned the same face upon good and ill, upon 
poverty and plenty. This prolonged situation was not 
only fraught with irksomeness, but fraught with peril, 
There was a danger lest the passes should become im- 
practicable ; in any case, the animals were dying off 
without doing any service, the men were becoming tired 
of the length of the journey, of that funeral nhroud 
which coiled around them and of that hoar-frost which 
penetrated to the marrow of their bones. Parpai came 
to give us notice : 

"Give me," he said, "the two donkeys which you 
condemned and I will undertake to make my way 
back to Cherchen, however long and rough the road 
may be. When ML Bonvalot sent me back from Sog 
(in Eastern Tibet), I had eighty-four days* march to do 
through desert mountins before returning to Turkestan 
and I did it very well Of course, I would rather not 
leave you; but I am ill, I feel that I have not the strength 
to go further. Yes, I went a long journey in this same 
'country with M. Bonvalot ; but with him we followed a 



46 tttbet 

road frequented by the Mongols, where there were traces 
of caravans every here and there. The mountains jyere 
not so high, the wind less violent, the march less painful; 
and, besides, 1 was not so old then." 

The good apostle had another and a better reason for 
wishing to return to Cherchen, though he did not tell us 
of it. He had known a young divorced woman there 
who had sheep in the mountains and crops in the fields 
(koy taghda, boghday baghda). This was an opportunity 
which Parpai had long dreamt of finding on his travels ; 
he did not let it slip. This veteran of exploration had 
long ceased to deserve his name, which recalled divine 
Achilles swift of foot (Parpai means "winged foot") : 
he had grown heavy with age ; but he had still a fine, 
noble beard, had gained experience and the old fox 
knew how to catch chickens. After a brisk courtship, he 
won the lady's hand and heart, her sheep and her crops. 
The first husband, who repented him of his step, but 
who, by Mussulman law, could not take back his wife 
before she had gone through a second marriage and 
a second divorce, assisted Parpai in his enterprise, 
hoping that, before his departure, he would give the 
young person back her liberty. Now neither she nor 
much more Parpai looked at the matter in this light, 
seeing which, the lady's family tried to quash the 
marriage. The family was an influential one and the 
first husband took the same side ; but there was no 
going back upon accomplished facts ; the treble and 
irrevocable repudiation had been pronounced ; from 
then until the new union the legal period of a hundred 
days had elapsed : Parpai was the undoubted proprietor. 
Only, he feared lest the wretched plaintiffs should take 
advantage of his absence to return to the attack, to work 
upon the judges, to change the young woman's heart 
and provoke the breaking-oflf of the marriage; and 
that was why our man was restless, ill and anxious to 



7 

go home. We told him that discipline does not allow 
a man to abandon his chiefs in the middle of a campaign 
ancf we sent him back to his work* 

At last, on the 23rd of October, the sun reappeared 
and we resumed our march through those desolate and 
endless solitudes, whose sadness cannot be expressed in 
words. Now as before, every day, we passed through 
high, rugged valleys, skirted blue lakes or climbed 
passes covered with snow and, every evening, we saw 
before our eyes white mountains displaying their majestic, 
icy forms, valleys stretching wide, gloomy and barren, 
lakes spreading their motionless blue and evaporating 
dismally in the sun. Now as before, all visible nature 
was shrouded in silence and, but for the perpetual 
whistling of the wind, we should have thought our- 
selves transported to some old globe dead since centuries, 
resembling the world of the poet ; 

Monde muet, marquiS d'un si#nc dc col&re* 

Nevertheless, the country had changed its appearance 
a little since the first day. Instead of the immense 
valleys widely open at the cast and west, we saw, to left 
and right, short links of mountains, often very high and 
running north and south, between which we passed as 
through a long corridor strewn with lakes and often inter* 
rupted by transversal mountains* 

This region, which we crossed between the 2ist of 
October and the 3rd of November, is remarkable for its 
complicated orography, into the details of which 1 need 
not enter here, for the yellow or red-brick colour of it 
soil and for a general altitude much lower than that of the 
region which extends between the northern slopes of the 
Akka Tagh and the southern slopes of the chains which 
we crossed on the Hth and i$th of October, From 
here onwards, the passes are no higher than the valleya 
were before. The loftiest, which is situated at the exact 



48 

southern extremity of the region, does not exceed 
16,750 feet. After the 22nd, we camped at a height of 
less than I5>8oo feet and, strange to say, the great peaks 
which tower over the whole country with their 20,350 
feet afforded us a passage, on the 22nd of October, over 
a wide and easy threshold which did not reach the level 
of Mont Blanc. The reader must not conclude from 
this decrease in the height of the ground that our 
journey was any the less arduous because of it ; on the 
contrary, we never had harder days than just at this end 
of October. The snow that had fallen still covered 
all the ground and its rapid evaporation took the form 
of a thick and heavy mist which made the cold more 
piercing and breathing more difficult. This mist was 
not dispelled until the afternoon, under the keen blast 
of the wind, when the desolation of the world around 
us came into sight once more beneath its snowy shroud* 
Once only, on the 25th of October, did the rent 
veil disclose a wonder to our eyes. In the pearly and 
immaculate whiteness of a valley overtowered by dazzling 
peaks slept a limpid lake, whose deep blue was deliriously 
paled and softened by the surrounding snows, while the 
azure of the sky became softer as it descended towards 
the horizon and assumed an opaline tint where it touched 
the white crests of the mountains. The conjunction in the 
pure light of those two only colours, blue and white, 
which melted gradually into each other, formed a har- 
mony of delicate splendour which defies description 
and which was rendered yet more perfect by the 
supreme calm that reigned over all ; for the least 
movement would have appeared like a discord in this 
picture. Our rough camel-drivers themselves were 
not insensible to this beauty of things ; but the snow 
exacted a high price for its picturesque effects in the 
disastrous results which it had upon the eyes of our 
men, who were completely blinded for some days 



TCibet 49 

and suffered intolerable agonies. Dutrcuil de Rhins 
himself was nor spared and, one day, I was the only 
member of the expedition who could see. To the 
accustomed difficulties, to the scarcity of fuel, for we 
were always reduced to that produced by the wild 
beasts, to the frequent luck of fresh water, u deficiency 
indifferently atoned for by the snow and ice, was added 
the dampness of our encampments in the snow, in an as 
yet unequalled temperature of ^6 degrees below /ero. 
However, gaining by experience, we succeeded better 
than before in keeping warm at night and preventing a 
feeling of iro/.en feet from interrupting that deep and 
heavy sleep which is known only in these lofty altitudes 
and which procured for WH an utter oblivion of the 
disagreeable realities around us- But the awakening was 
rude* In order to prepare for our departure, we had to 
get up at the coldest hour of the black night. We left 
the tent with heavy limbs ; our men came ami went 
slowly, with sleepy movements, groping their way in the 
darkness ; the animals la/Jly shook their weary, numbed 
bodies, all covered with icicles ; the men's voices wore 
a fftufHt'd sound in the sort of moist wadding that en- 
veloped us ; attempts were made to light a fire with ill- 
dried fuel that refused to Ma/.e up and gave forth sw 
acrid smell. Then a little quiver of wun light made itw 
way through space: this was the dawn, a Horry dawn that 
served only to make the thickness of the fog visible; and 
the men loaded the* beasts with their customary dreamy 
ItHtleasncftH, lingering by the tire to catch a breath of 
warm smoke. We had constantly to he after them to 
Hfir up their torpor, without, however, losing sight of 
their real sufferings, their hands marting from the 
touch of the frozen iron or blistered by handling the 
stiff cords and the sense of suffocation produced by 
physical exertion in the rarefied atmosphere* At last we 
set out, finding our way as be*t we could, with the aid 

4 



50 tlibct 

of the compass, through the dense fog which rendered 
keener our sense of the weight of the silence ami ijjade 
the solitude almost tangible, Amid these flouting vapours 
glided confusedly, like a procession of dumb phantom*, 
the camels with their monotonous swinging gait and the 
horses hanging their heads and carrying on their hacks 
the motionless figures of men in fantastic wraps, 

However, many signs announced the propinquity cf 
inhabited spots. The grass became gradually more 
abundant, the plentiful game more timid ; here and then*, 
hunters had left traces of their camps. On the 27th of 
October, sifter passing the threshold of which I have 
spoken above, we saw a sheepfold which must have IKVH 
occupied that summer. We pitched our U't not titr 
from there, on the bank of a river whose water, from* 
only at either brink, flowed swiftly am! m a depth of two 
feet. In the stern and narrow valley ot" this '-M-earn* 
sparrows and partridges kept the crow* company and, in 
tne short brushwood, called foxwoot! in Tibetan (*xv/Mi^) t 
played countless hares. The Tibetan hitrcs, not |H*W 
looked upon as animals to be trapped and t'Uten at will, 
are not so timid as ours nor so difficult to uti*h> 
Mohammed Isahad hardly left the camp in search ut'wood, 
when he returned carrying one of these* hares nouml n( 
body and bright-eyed, which he had *ei/cil by the earn. 
This Is the most noteworthy feat of hunting that our 
expedition accomplished; and I mention it hm* HO tlut, 
should its author ever boast of it, hi* may not In* regarded 
as a greater braggart than he is. 

Until we came to the source of this I fare Rivi*r, our 
road had deviated but little from tht* due stwtherly 
course; afterwards, we inclined towards the wt*r '4 
direction in which the country is letter known, with rhr 
intention of discovering how much truth or probability 

Em the famou* hypothesis of thr <lira:t route trorn 
otan to Lhasa, but we saw absolutely nn ve^tig** of it, 



{Tibet si 

On the first of November, we encamped near a salt-water 
lake, which hud a fetid smell and taste, like ammonia. In 
the tall mountains that rise on the western margin of this 
lake, we saw a gap that seemed to offer a relatively easy 
passage : this is probably the way by which Captain Bower 
passed in the important journey which he hud recently 
made from Ladak to Sechuen, a journey of which we 
had not at that time heard. 

The next day and the day after, we crossed two passes 
which led us to an immense grassy valley, running 
indefinitely towards the south-east and stretching between 
the southern slope of the mountains which we had left 
and a magnificent snowy chain whose peaks rose out of 
sight, gleaming and drawn up in line like a troop of 
cuirassiers under arms* This recalled in a striking 
manner the view of the Transalay Mountains as seen 
from Sarytach, but with something much more imposing 
about it, The snow and mist had sit lust disappeared 
and we saw remains of camps lately abandoned Thin 
provoked a great sigh of relief and yet all was not over, 
The altitude was still considerable, between 14,500 ami 
15,800 feet ; the cold did not decrease ; nml the plentiful 
grtiHH wafc not relished by the horses, which found it too 
furd, and was of no use to the fiuncls, which are able to 
cut only long grass* We had already lost sixteen of 
our beasts tuul the survivors were pitiful to see* The 
very proximity of hitman beings w;i<* a source of anxiety: 
not that we had the least fear for our safety, but we knew 
that they would try to impede our passage. 

Following the valley, which nhoumfcd itt game ami 
wiw frequented also by herds of wild horses, we came, OH 
the 7th of November, to the brink of u torrent where we 
discovered a fire-place with hot ashes. And, at last, on 
the next day, two months exactly after leaving the last 
inhabited spot in Turkestan, we met our first Tibetan, a 
meeting both dreaded and longed for. \ le was a herdsman 



seated with a look of despair beside his sick goat. His 
wild and rugged face, black with the sun and dirt jnJ 
lost in the unkempt brushwood of his hair, did us good 
to see. I will not go so far as to say that the poor herd 
experienced the same sentiment at the sight of us : to 
use a Chinese expression, he looked us startled its ;i new- 
born calf. He took us for devils from hcl! or, at the 
very least, for brigands. He was too murh taken up 
with his goat's illness and too much taken aback by our 
sudden apparition to give us the smallest information. 

At some distance in the pasture-land, we saw several 
shepherds who, ou catching sight of us, collected and 
hurriedly drove away their herds of yaks and sheep. 
However, one of them came up to us and wtr 
endeavoured to enter into conversation. He put on ;in 
air of good-fellowship, but was careful to say nothing 
that would be likely to interest us* t fis replies were 
either vague or untruthful, or else, when he was driven 
into a corner, he suddenly pretended to he foolish and 
ignorant and assumed the face of one fallen from the 
clouds. It would have been amusing had it not been 
vexing* We wished to find out about Nakchang, which 
is mentioned in Chinese geography and which wa 
supposed by Dutreuil tie Rhins to be a town situated 
at no great distance from where we were, We had the 
greatest difficulty in making our interlocutor umlcmami 
what we wanted. He first opened wide eyes, then a wide 
mouth and, at last, stood with swinging arms and his 
looks lost in space. We were ready to throw up the 
game, when, suddenly, a flash of intelligence Deemed to 
light up the rustic's face : 

"Oh, yes/ 1 he said, <c u place with men as big us the 
stars ! n 

We answered yes, thinking that this might be a 
poetic way of describing public officials ami that we 
were about to receive the desired information. 



ttibet as 

" Ooh ! To ma re ! (there isn't one)/ 1 exclaimed the 
Tibetan in a sing-song voice, like a Provencal, but 
peremptorily. 

We learnt later that Nakchang was the name of the 
district in which we then were and that its capital is 
Senja Jong, to the south of the mountains. 

We camped at a place called Gadmar, or Red Cliff, 
near a fairly large lake, which is known as the Ringmo Cho, 
or Long Lake, Several black yak-skin tents displayed 
their spider-like silhouette?;, to use Peru Hue's very 
accurate comparison. Three men and a woman came to 
see us ; their types and clothing were very similar to 
those of the Tioetans whom we had met at Mangrtse, 
except that the woman's hair was differently dressed and 
diyiaed into a number of tight plaits, each as thick as the 
middle joint of the little nnger. For that matter, they 
had a very peaceful appearance, but were exceedingly 
distrustful or us, as they had guessed us to be Europeans, 
a fact which surprised us, for we did not know that 
Captain Bower nad recently passed that way. While 
the men were curiously examining anything that we 
cared to show them, the woman be^an to speak frankly, 
with no notion that she was doing wrong, of the 
things that interested us, of the roads, of the Nam Cho 
or Heavenly Lake, of Senja, the residence of the great 
chief, of Nagchukka, the trading district. But her 
husband soon went up to her and said, bluntly ; 
u Hold your tongue ; you know nothing," 
Then, filling his long iron pipe and crossing his legs, 
he sat down on the ground and, carefully drawing his 
sheepskin coat under him, said : 

w I do not know if the women are like that where 
you come from ; but here they are always talking at 
random : what she has been telling you is all rubbish 1 
Ask me what you want to know and you will be 
told," 



54 tttbet 

Thenceforth, it was impossible to learn any more, 
Evidently, since Captain Bower had been there, these 
worthy people had received severe and terrible orders. 

The next day, a man appeared, similar to the others in 
every respect, except that he had a sword stuck in his 
belt. He was grave and ceremonious ; when accosting 
us, he took off his huge fur hat, which he had put on for 
the express purpose of being able to doff it, pinched his 
left ear, showed a tongue as big as a man's hand and 
began in these words : 

" Revered lords ! If it depended only on myself, I 
would not come to trouble you ; but the formal orders 
which I have received from our venerable master, the 
lord lama of Senja Jong, compel me to address a prayer 
to you, * , , You see," he added, after a short hesita- 
tion and suddenly dropping all solemnity, u if you go 
any further they will cut off my head and, if you have no 
objection, I would rather keep it on my shoulders,* 4 

" My dear fellow, 1 * replied Dutreuil de Rhins, 
familiarly, "these orders do not concern me. I have I 
letter from the Emperor which I am going to present to 
His Excellency the Imperial Legate at Lhasa/* And, 
raising his voice and frowning, ** There is no objection, 
I hope I" 

"My lord . * 1 am at your orders I (Lafaso, 



And the worthy man withdrew backwards! with hit 
tongue hanging in the air. 

On the n th of November, having taken our astronom- 
ical observations, we continued our road and perceived 
a few armed horsemen who followed us and watched us 
from afar. Three of them rode up to tell us that the 
4rAt, or chief of the district, was on th point ~ J 
attiring and begged us to wait for him, ~ -< 
1|feifity who was suffering from a rebpsa $ 
tht m *rjr curdy and wfcmfd 




56 

show themselves within a radius of two hundred 
yards. As a matter of fact, the wretched herdsmen 
we*e very far from wishing to employ violence : they 
were performing police duty with extreme reluctance 
and they felt the unpleasant sensations of one who 
is placed between the anvil and the hammer. On 
the 1 3th, we camped on the shore of a large fresh- 
water lake, the Chargat Cho, which lay at the bottom of 
an amphitheatre of snowy mountains that bathed their 
feet in the bright-blue, perpetually roaring waters. The 
view was very fine and Dutreuii de Rhins compared it 
with that between the Bosphorus and the Dardanelles, 
after a snow-fall, on a fine winters day. The next two 
days, we followed, along a narrow path, the side of the 
prettiest lake imaginable, straitened! sinuous as a sapphire 
snake, shining in the sun and shivering in the brce/e, 
close-cased between marble walls, gliding into fantasti- 
cally-scalloped creeks, rounding curious clean-carved 
promontories and stretching out beyond the rocks that 
seemed to confine it. This would have been a delight- 
ful walk had the cold been less bitter. On the i6th f we 
again found ourselves amid one of those earlier desolate 
landscapes, in a large valley, covered with saline efflor- 
escences, with, at the foot of the great, pale mountains, 
a salt lake, coated with ice, which spread into the 
distance, infinitely mournful and gloomy. This was the 
first frozen lake that we had come upon and also the 
largest that we had yet seen* It is called the Kyaring 
Cho, a name which it deserves by its exceptional length 
of over 40 miles. It was on its southern bank that 
Captain Bower was stopped and turned back, On the 
north rise tail hills, behind which lies a more habitable 
valley- We went in this direction, over a rugged, cracked, 
gullied ground, strewn with frozen pools, covered with 
saline efflorescences and schistose stones, which sometime* 
formed a sort of ruined embankment or wall One of 



56 

those hideous breezes was blowing, violent, ice-laden, 
sharp as a sword's point, which made us repeat the cry 
that was torn from the heart of Pere Hue : 

cc Really, Tibet is a very detestable land,*' 

However, after observing the country from the top 
of a steep hill, we discovered that we were losing too 
much time in attempting to go by the other valley and 
we slanted off to the south-east, towards the lake. On 
the 20th, after crossing on the ice a considerable river 
running down to the lake, we halted at the foot of some 
perpendicular bare rocks, put together in a curious way 
and hollowed out by natural grottoes, one of which 
resembled the porch of a gigantic mosque. Continuing 
our road, we reached the bank of the same Kyuring 
Cho. It was snowing and we were wrapped in a thick 
fog through which we guided ourselves by the compass. 

We started in this way to cross the fro/en hike, but 
cracks, accompanied by a trembling of tin- surface, made 
us hurriedly retrace our steps and, after much groping 
caused by the impossibility of clearly distinguishing 
between the frozen water and the dry land in the white 
darkness that surrounded us, we passed over the ice of 
a pool, crossed some hills and came to the foot of the 
great chain, in a green valley, where we saw the black 
outlines of several tents and of the living wall formed by 
a large herd of tame yaks. This place, which we reached 
on the 24th of November, was called Tagstiipu, 

Meanwhile, the horsemen who had begun to follow 
us at Gadmar had not lost sight of us. Their defcw had 
joined them and their number had swelled considerably, 
but they still maintained a respectful distance* They 
repeatedly tried to enter into a parley with us> to gain 
time or rather to make us lose it. On the 24th, they 
again invited us, with redoubled persistency, to stop, 
informing us that the lama-prefect of Senja waft to arrive 
the next day and that: he wished to have a conversation 



ZtlbCt 67 

with us, assuring us that, if we would comply with 
this wish, we should not fail to he pleased with the 
interview and promising to supply us, in the meantime, 
with all the provisions which we could need* Dutrcui! 
dc Rhins was convinced that, if he stopped, \ve should 
soon be surrounded by two or three hundred mounted 
men, who would block our road to the Nam Cho, which he 
wished to reach at all costs, and finally oblige us to take 
the road to Sining, going through uninhuhiti'd districts^ 
for the lack of victuals would place us at their mercy. 
Our provisions were, in fact, in-arly exhausted. On 
the 20th, we had put ourselves upon rations and the 
flesh of our remaining sheep had not only become 
almost uneatable, but had decreased to such an extent 
that two sheep now gave lew than did one at the 
beginning of the journey. At Gadmar, the women, 
bribed with some small trinkets, had persuaded their 
husbands to sell us u little butter and a sheep. Thin 
went but a very short way. We meant to try to obtain 
better results at Tagstupu and we contrived to huh there 
on the 25th> knowing that> in any Asiatic language, ** to- 
morrow " stands* for w within an undecided number of 
days " and that, therefore, the prefect would not appear 
on that day. We also made our arrangements to break 
up our camp immediately, in CMC that honourable 
functionary should surprise us by being punctual, and 
we sent our interpreter to the tents to buy what he 
could. The natives refused to sell anything, having 
been strictly forbidden to do so* 

"But, since we are staying/ 1 said our man/* we mw*t 
needs be supplied with victuals. 1 ' 

The others referred the matter to the dcba, who> 
seeing that, in fact, we did not go away, withdrew the 
prohibition* In this way, we procured four excellent 
sheep and enough tnamba for four days ; but we found 
nothing for our animals. 



58 ICibet 

On the 25th, the prefect had made no sign ; and, on 
the next day, we decamped at break of day in order to 
cross the chain a little further towards the cast. About 
mid-day, as we were entering a deep gorge, we saw 
behind us about sixty horsemen, with, in their midst, on 
a caparisoned horse, a Chinese yellow-silk jacket. The 
lama had come. We pressed forward, leaning as much 
as possible towards the south, so as to cross the chain 
with the least possible delay. Just as we were turning 
into a very narrow and difficult ravine, the Tibetans 
called out to us : 

"You are going the wrong way ; the road is to the 
right ! " 

Dutreuil de Rhins was convinced that, if the Tibetan* 
told him that he was wrong, he must needs be right ami 
he went straight on. His argument was not correct. 
The ravine led us to a high, rugged mountain, covered 
with snow, which lay to a thickness of several yanls at 
the summit. The ascent cost us three camels suul a horse, 
At six o'clock in the evening, we arrived, in the already 
complete darkness, at the bottom of u precipice, into 
which we had to lower the animals one by one, holding 
them by the head and tail. The prefect took good care 
not to follow us on this side : he crossed by the right 
road and, on the next morning, we found him installed 
in front of us in the valley, If he had been .strong in 
either numbers or character, we should have been caught 
in a trap. We set out on the march as though there were 
nothing amiss. On coming abreast of the Tibetan en* 
campment, we saw the prefect come forward with only two 
or three men, an evident sign of his peaceful intentions* 
He was a youngish, beardless man, with a placid face and 
a hesitating air. He on treated us, with tears in his voice, 
to stop ; they would cut off his head if we went any 
further ; if, on the other hand, we vouchsafed to grant 
his prayer, he would supply all our needs and woulu use 



tti&et w 

his influence to induce the Lhasa government to let us 
go whithersoever we pleased. Dutreuil do Rhins replied 
shortly that he could not stop in the middle of the snow- 
fields; that his instructions obliged him to go at least 
as far as the Nam Cho ; that he intended to treat 
directly with the central power; thur, besides, he had 
a passport from Peking ; and he passed on, 

The lama, alighting from his horse, sci/cd mine ly 
the bridle and once more struck up his doleful litany, 
almost going on his knees, 1 urged on my mount, 
to get rid or him ; but the poor emaciated beast, which 
already had a drop of blood at it'- nostrils, caught its 
feet in the countless holes with which the ground was 
hollowed and fell, This ludicrous incident, ut which 
the prefect seemed quite abashed, delivered me forth- 
with from his entreaties, I went on and saw him, for 
a moment, with a tearful air, waving his enormous 
yellow sleeves like a bird fluttering its wih^s. At 
bottom, he was perplexed, not knowing exactly the 
terms of our passport ; and, being a well bred man ;H 
well as a timid official, he was more afnnd of going 
too far than of not going far enough. But it was possible 
that he might repent of his weakness ;uui get together 
a more numerous escort, which would allow him to act 
with greater decision ; und, in order to guard against this 
eventuality, we marched rapidly all day, until night fell at 
seven o'clock. Then we lit tire and made tea, while wait- 
ing for the moon to rise* We were in ;i large ami fairly 
populous valley, the short grass of which was covered 
with white dust ; on our right stood snowy mountain* 
in which a gap seemed to be marked neur our bivousic* 
At nine o'clock, the moon, which was full, rowe nbovt* the 
mountains and we took advantage of it** light to wt out 
again ; but the paleness of this light, which created 
illusions and uncertainty, made u<* abandon the idea of 
crossing the pass which we had seen and we continued 



60 

to follow the foot of the heights, We had hardly eaten 
all day and our weariness soon made itself felt. In the 
midst of the cold, the silence and the monotonous lulteby 
of the bells, we were invaded by torpor ; our beasts let 
their heads drop forward in short nods and raised them, 
from time to time, with a sudden start, when their feet 
knocked against a stone or sank into a hollow ; our 
men, incapable of reaction, slept as they walked and led 
the animals into the shallows. At last, at three o'clock 
in the morning, we considered that we had gone far 
enough to baffle the lama and we encamped in the valley 
of Pisang, near some native tents. 

Europeans were unknown in this spot. We were 
taken for Mongols on their way to perform their 
devotions beside the Heavenly Lake and in the Holy 
City ; and, on our departure after a .short sleep, w<* 
received the salutations of good people whose pre- 
judices and fears did not dim their good-humour nor 
their gay smiles, for the Tibetan carries within himself 
all the gaiety that is lacking in the scenery that surrounds 
him. A little further on, Dutreuil de Rhins entered a 
tent to warm his hands and drink a cup of milk; when 
he came out, an old woman bestirred herself to help him 
on with his cloak and to hold his stirrup for him 
while he mounted, saying : 

" Tachi chigy lathi cUg ! (May you be happy ! A 
prosperous journey !) " 

To cross the chain that still separated us from the 
Nam Cho, we first climbed a rather steep mountain 
which, on our left, was quite perpendicular ami bathed 
its feet in Lake Pam Cho, 1,000 feet below u. 
We next crossed a series of steep hills ami narrow 
valleys, the ground of which was dug out with a multitude 
of holes full of snow and dented with as many protuber- 
ances covered with blades of gra*>s hard as stakes, which 
wounded the soft feet of the camels. This is the common 



ttibet fli 

type of the pasture-land of North Tibet. The fairly 
numerous inhabitants whom we met, continuing to look 
upon us as a band of pious pilgrims> received us kindly. 

At last, on the joth November, from the top of the 
last slope, we beheld the Heavenly Lake, the sacred und 
revered lake, whose sombre und peaceful blue made a 
violent contrast with the da/y.lin^ whiteness of the 
mountains with their thousand points, like the waves of a 
turbulent sea, that stood on its southern shore ; and those 
waves, rising one on the fop of another, srcmed to he 
climbing to the assault of u hujje mav* that sprung up 
above them, quite black, for its sides were so steep that 
the snow obtained no hold ; ,wd the fixedness, the 
gloom, the enormous sr/.e of this mass, which WZIM MtninJ 
Chari Maru, gave it a very formidable air. In the cant, the 
chain of snowy peaks stretched far beyond the lakes ; and 
all were overtopped by tht 4 distant and splendid pyramid 
of the Samtan Gamcha, the Glacier of Contemplation* 
This mountain, which, secluded $n the midst of this 
almost dead region, seemed not to d^n to MT this 
low world from the height of its cold and impassive 
serenity and to be trying, with it* sharp top, to penetrate 
and to absorb itself in the heavenly void, was indeed 
the visible emblem of the Buddhist soul, which strives to 
isolate itself and to collect itself in the contemplation of 
eternal things and of absolute perfection, to strip itself of 
all that which, good or bad, attaches it to this perishable 
and troubled existence, hopes and fount, pleasures and 
sorrows, hatreds and affections, which aims at suppressing 
within itself every need, every seimtiiw, every move* 
mcntj and at becoming one, in the infinity of silence 
and of space, with Nirvana, the only absolute and perfect 
life, which does not feel, nor suffer, nor change, nor end, 

We had reached the goal 5 but our men, in the face 
of the melancholy of this new and yet unchanging 
spectacle, felt a disgust mingled with stupefaction at thin 



62 

obstinacy on the part of the icy mountains in pursuing 
them for three months ; and for us, better informed it 
was striking to see, in the latitude of Alexandria in Egypt 
and so near to the capital of Tibet, a country like this, in 
which the manifestations of inanimate nature were as 
mighty and grand as those of animate nature were feeble 
and rare. 

On the ist of December, we followed the northern 
bank of the lake, a hilly bank, intersected by valleys 
sinking between the uplands and by promontories pro- 
jecting far into the waters, which were hemmed by a 
narrow fringe of ice. There were still no trees, but 
only, growing in the clefts of the rocks, little juniper 
shrubs (fhitgpti)) whose smoke is regarded by the 
Tibetans, by the Mongols and oven by the Moslem 
Turkomans as agreeable to the divinity. In the matter 
of game, we saw hardly anything but hares and partridges; 
and human civilisation was represented solely by ;i few 
wandering herds, nibbling the short, hard grass, and by a 
few wretched tents, cowering in the corners best protected 
against the wind and serving as a shelter to the no less 
wretched serfs of the chief Jama of Tachilhunpu, the 
lord of these parts. 

We camped at a spot called Xamna, five miles from 
the eastern extremity of the Nam Cho. A sort of 
brigadier of police, wearing a reel turban, who hail come 
from Lhasa to meet us, asked us to stop where we were 
until the early arrival of the officials dispatched to 
us by the central government. He promised UK, more 
over, using the stereotyped formula, to procure for u* 
anything that we needed. Now we had furon unable to 
renew our provisions in a country whose population wan 
too scattered, too poor and too distruntful ; we had beet* 
on rations for the last eleven days ; we had not an ounce 
of flour left ; we hud emptied our ht bag of rice and 
killed our last sheep. Of our *ixty*0nc animals, thirty-six 



-Zibet 63 

had perished and the melancholy survivors, to which 
w$ had not a grain of barley to give, exhausted with 
fatigue, hunger and cold, staggered on their four legs 
and rolled like ships as they went ; their sides, in which 
the ribs stood out in vigorous relief, were, in spite of the 
low temperature, wet with fetid sweat ; beads of blood 
reddened their nostrils ; their backs were covered with 
sores. Dutreuil de Rhins therefore accepted the pro- 
posals that were made to him and wrote to the Imperial 
Legate in resilience at Lhasa to ask for his authorisation 
to go to the Holy City to rest and to reorganise his 
caravan. When his letter was written he summoned the 
brigadier : 

"Here," he said, "is a message for the Chinese 
amban* of Lhasa*" 

"What Chinese amban ? There are no Chinese at 
Lhasa ; not one ! " 

"What! You dare tell me that there is no repre- 
sentative of the Kmperor at Lhasa no #rand amban r 

" Oh, I was forgetting, . , , fie is ijuite a little 
amban ! " and he affected a very scornful tone, 

"Well, big or little, send him this packet and see 
that it reaches him within four days ; if not, I ahull 
lodge a complaint/* 

The tone of the other chunked forthwith ; he had a 
horse saddled on the spot and dispatched the letter, which 
was, in fact, at Lhasa four days later, 

There was another reason, in addition to the bad 
condition of the caravan, that prompted Dutreuil de 
Rhins to listen to the request of the Tibetan government. 
He had attached essential importance to reaching the 
Nam Che, which WUH the limit of the known districts* 
After that, one enters what i called the Tibet 
of the towns, a country whose main geographical 

*A Mongolian word which *he Tibetan* jmd Turkomun*, ;tt* ivell in* 
th* Mongol*, utfc to don<H ChincwJ 



64 

lines are pretty well known, a country, therefore, 
in which it is interesting to travel only on condition 
that one has the leisure and quiet necessary for 
serious studies, that one can make exact astronomical 
or other observations, visit the towns and monasteries, 
converse freely with the inhabitants, the officials and the 
lamas, collect books and curiosities of all kinds. For 
this the assent of the government was necessary; and it 
appeared to Dutreuil de Rhins that the best way of 
obtaining this assent, if, indeed, there were any means of 
obtaining it wholly or in part, was to make a show of the 
greatest deference to the authorities, to prove his good 
intentions by the correctness of his conduct and, in 
his intercourse with the Chinese agents, of whose power 
he was well aware, to make the most of the peculiarly 
flattering terms of his official passport and of the friendly 
relations which he had till then always maintained with 
all the Chinese functionaries. True, there was no 
room for any illusion as to the result of purely official 
negotiations ; but it was important thut these should be 
conducted correctly from start to finish, in order that we 
might give an exact account of the degree of resistance, 
of the nature of the real or apparent reasons which 
the Tibetan government and the representatives of the 
Emperor of China might offer; it was important thut the 
experiment should not be vitiated in any way, that no 
surprise, no act of bad faith or violence on our part 
should furnish our adversaries with easy arguments 
against us, arguments invented ad hoc, 

One matter embarrassed UH ; this was the affair of 
the prefect of Senja, to whose summons we had refused 
to surrender. We foresaw the objections that could 
be raised against us when we wrote to the Imperial 
Legate that an individual, claiming to be an officer of 
the government, had endeavoured to #top UK in the 
midst of the desert ; that, as we had no proof of bin 



tibet 65 

real quality and as, in any case, he was not furnished 
witjj full powers from the central government, we felt 
that we neither could nor should enter into parley with 
him ; that, lastly, he had dared to take my horse by 
the bridle and had caused it to fall, a grave insult for 
which we demanded apologies, if that man were really 
an official person. Now the prefect hail he-en able to 
think of nothing better, in order to obtain his pardon 
for allowing us to pass, than to accuse us or* wounding 
him in the arm with a pistol-shot, fie was summoned 
to Lhasa, where it was shown that he had lied and his 
trick turned in our favour, The government mat It* us 
an official apology; and an incident which seemed to u*? 
capable of weakening our argument served, on the con- 
trary, to strengthen it. 

Gradually, a few armed men came ami installed them- 
selves near us ; but it was not until eleven days after our 
arrival, when the first delegates of the government made 
their appearance, that a troop was collected of sufficient 
size to oppose a serious obstacle to our progress. !f> 
therefore, we had thought it necssury or useful to continue 
our march, nothing would have been easier than ro push 
on to the village of Dam, on the other side of the 
southern chain, and even there we should not have been 
stopped except by the lack of provisions and the weari- 
ness of our beasts. Supposing that our plan had been 
to advance at all costs an near Lhasa as possible, we 
should have taken our measures accordingly ; at the 
end of October, instead of turning towards the west, 
we should have turned towards the east, so as to gain 
the few days indispensable to our project, Beside*, 1 
consider, speaking from experience- and I aay chtft for 
the instruction of future traveller* that, with a better 
marching method than that adopted by UH, it is possible 
at the same time both to spare the animals more and to 
cover more road. As a matter of feet, prolonged halt$ 

6 



66 tXfbCt 

are of no benefit to the animals in these high-lying 
countries, where there is practically no grass, at IcasJ in 
the season during which we travelled ; there is no reason 
for stopping except on the days required for astronomical 
observations and when the weather becomes absolutely 
impossible. On the other hand, the day's march should 
in no case exceed seven hours, nor should the horses 
nor, especially, the camels be forced to increase their 
pace in the smallest degree : for the poor pleasure of 
pitching camp half-an-hour earlier,, the beasts whose rate 
of speed is hurried are subjected to a considerable 
additional fatigue which has the most grievous conse- 
quences. By strictly and patiently applying the system 
which I have described, it is possible to cover on 
an average twelve miles u clay, allowing for stoppages, 
In this way and without altering our route, we should 
have taken about seventy days, instead of eight} 1 -live, 
to go from Tukus Davan to the Nam (/ho ami our caravan 
would certainly have been in no worse plight than that 
in which it was two months after leaving Cherehen. 
Well, imagine a traveller possessed of resources sufficient 
to get together a caravan able to carry an ample provision 
for a hundred days for about twenty-five men, half of 
whom would have been trained and carefully -'picked 
soldiers, He would have gone beyond Dam without 
difficulty, reached Pumdo Jong and would there pro- 
bably have found in face of him only an insufficient 
troopj whom the resolute bearing of his men would have 
overawed and whom the fear of consequences and 
responsibilities, even more than cowardice, would have 
prevented from going to the length of an armed conflict ; 
for the watchword given to those who are instructed to 
stop Europeans in": in words firmness, but in action 
prudence, prudence and again prudence. In ths* way, I 
believe that he would not have been definitely stopped 
before reaching the very gates of Lhasa and the twenty 



Hibct 67 

and so many days 1 provisions which he would still have left 
would allow him to enjoy at his ease the mortal terror 
into which his presence would throw the monkhood of 
the country. 

Our intentions, as well as the conditions of our 
caravan, were different and \ve awaited the arrival of the 
negotiators from Lhasa without undue impatience. Two 
of them came first : a monk who was honoured with the 
title of rdjctsum, a lama in attendance on the Rinpoiheh 
Gyabang, or Dalai Lama, and a layman, the mhlfwi or 
prefect of the town of Lhasa. The latter, who was of 
mature age, had thin lips, bright eyes, movements which 
were quick for an oriental, wore handsome rings in his 
ears and on his fingers and waft the spokesman of the 
embassy. To see his trick of pushing forward his head 
when he was about to speak, his contented ;uuj self 
sufficient air, his triumphant gestures was enough to 
make one feel that he was convinced that his eloquence 
would overthrow every obstacle on the instant. While 
he gave vent to the abundant flow of his discourse, his 
colleague, the lama, a young man with a placid and 
prepossessing countenance, listened in silence, smiled 
softly from time to time ami never ceased telling his 
beads, praying, no doubt, for the success of the negotia- 
tion, The midpon, presenting us with the traditional 
katfigS)* told us that, cm hearing of our arrival, the 
government had sent both of them to present its respects 
to us > to inquire into our needs and to satisfy them, to 
point out to us the safest and easiest routes : in short, to 
assist us to continue our journey under the bent possible 
conditions. We replied that we were very grateful to 
the government for its attention and care and that wt* 
thought it our duty to go and thank it in the capital 
itself 



"The kfituft a Htfttrf whltih 3* prrtMrntod tm it owrk of homitir and 
rcKpcct. 



63 {Tibet 

"Certainly/* replied the midpon, "we should be 
profoundly honoured and charmed to welcome at Lh^sa 
guests so distinguished as yourselves ; but the law of 
the country, which is founded on a secular tradition, 
is opposed to your admission to Tibetan territory : we 
can only, to our great regret, help you to leave a country 
which you ought not to have entered/* 

"The law of which you speak was made against your 
enemies ; it is not pertinent to invoke it against your 
friends. You can have no doubt that we belong to the 
latter ; the correctness of our attitude, the deference 
which we have shown towards your ^overmnent are 
proof enough of this. We stopped so soon as its 
emissaries asked us to and, although you yourselves did 
not appear at the time fixed, we did not take your 
unpunctuality as n pretext for f*uini further; and yet 
this would have been easy for us tn do, smuj( that then? 
was no obstacle before us, We had the fueling of 
confidence, which you would not like to shake, that the 
recommendations of the Court of Peking the obvious 
purity of our intentions, your own f^ood sense and 
equity would serve us better than artifice cir force. No 
apprehension can advise you to expel UN ; your own 
interest should dissuade you from that course. The 
journey which we have undertaken is a work of science 
and peace alone and conceals no political or religious 
object, no plait connected with trade or lucre. We 
belong, moreover, to a nation whose power anil ambition 
can give you no umbrage, for it is very distant front your 
frontiers and its solo desire is that you should live peace- 
fully in your own country, Since you have no reason to 
mistrust it, clearly your interest must lie in conciliating 
its goodwill, in case your security should be threatened 
from another side. Instead of nugget ing these wise 
ideas to yourmslvufl, you had the chifromeftK, not long 
ago, to set public opinion in France agaimt you by not 



Tibet co 

offering a better reception to two of our most considerable 
and considered fellow-countrymen ; and you will end by 
alienating it completely, if you to-day hold the same 
conduct towards two official travellers who ask leave only 
to go and rest from their fatigues in a spot less cold, Ie'<; 
unhealthy, less devoid of everything than that in which 
we now are. This is a request which would cost you 
nothing, which it would be advantageous to you, on the 
contrary, to grant, a request which the humanity ami 
chanty enjoined by your noble religion do not permit you 
to refuse. No doubt you are free to at I as you please in 
your own country : every man's house, as we say, is hU 
castle ; but, if he lives like u savage, if he snubs every- 
body and closes his gate against all comers, friends and 
foes alike, none will be interested in him ami, if mis- 
fortune ever threaten hini| everyone, so far from cowing to 
his assistance, will applaud his ruin. Well, by knocking 
at your gate to-day, we pvc you an opportunity of 
retrieving your past errors. It is probably the last ; do 
not let it escape you ! ** 

"We do not,'* replied the imdpon, "contest the 
accuracy of your observations; we fully understand 
their importance and it seems to us that there would be 
every occasion to show them the greatest respect, if only 
we were free to do so. But each people has its own 
customs. As you have so well said, every man's house 
is his castle ; and now the householder says to you, 
*The castle is mine : you must go ! * The instruuimt'i 
given us arc formal ones ; we cannot change them, 
however much we would like to be agreeable to 
you/* 

This time the conversation went no further. 7'hrec 
days later, the midpon returned to the attack : 

" When do you propose to leave ? " he a*kcdL u Wo 
are ready to do all that ts necessary to assist you in 
your preparations. It is time to make up your numl*." 



70 Whet 

" I am in no hurry," replied Dutrcuil do Rhins, " I 
have written to the Imperial Legate and am waiting tor 
his answer." 

"The Imperial Legate has nothing to say in this 
matter. He is sent to Lhasa to honour the Holy City 
with his presence and to show the respece due to His 
Precious Majesty the Dalai Lama in the name of the 
Emperor, He never interferes in the government and 
our powers are absolute, within the limits of our instruc- 
tions* We can no longer wait your good pleasure, for 
a period of time has been fixed beyond which we are not 
authorised to go on any pretext." 

" I am sorry, but I will yield only to force : employ 
it if you dare. I am ill, 1 cannot leave this spot, exo.'pf 
to go south, to a better climate, If you insist, you will 
endanger my life and, if anything happens to me, you 
will be held responsible," 

The two negotiators looked sit each other with u ;vr< 
plexed air and withdrew for a moment to confer together 
in a low voice, after which the midpon said ; 

" We are much distressed that you should Imv 
taken our entreaties in bud part ; we hud no intention 
of being disagreeable to you. In proof of this, we \vil! 
dispatch a messenger immediately to Lhasa to inform 
the government of your proposals and to usk for fresh 
instructions/' 

On the next day, the lyth, the imperial vice-legate 
arrived, accompanied by a numerous retinue. He W*IM a 
Manchu, still a young man, who h;ul been secretary of 
embassy in St. Petersburg, where he admitted that he 
had picked up a few words of Russian with which he 
brightened his conversation, here anil there, to please us, 
As for Chinese, he spoke it with aa easy, fluent situ) abun- 
dant eloquence and with the clearness of pronunciation 
peculiar to the natives of Peking. He hau an agreeable 
appearance, an easy gait, under ms ample Chinese drew, 



Uibct 71 

and visible pretensions to elegance : at every turn, in 
and out of season, he would produce a fine cambric 
hiidkerchicf, of irreproachable whiteness ; hut he made 
the mistake of sniffing noisily and of spitting on the 
ground with a great crash. Mis pleasant Mnile ami 
courteous manners served admirably to cover the intrinsic 
haughtiness of his character, in the same way I hut his 
display of cordial frankness disguised to a certain evtent 
his diplomatic skill. He had a supple and resourceful 
mind, affected a great freedom from prejuui* e of every 
kind and was clever enough to allow us the SUNK* 
superiority over other men which he attributed to him* 
self, With him came two secretaries of tht* legation 
and three officers of the Chi MM.' cpu'rison of Lhasa, 

In addition to these, the King, or rather the Viceroy 
of Tibet, the Bod Gyatsab, hail sent a hrm styled a $'//>'' 
who was one of the two supreme judges, or ctM$pwt$, 
Short and fat, with a round, smooth iiuv, a wild ;w<i 
sanctimonious expression, luck lustre eyes, which often 
gave a sly, upward glance, and a slow and staid vout% 
without tone or accent, he was almost immovable in his 
serenity, which was enlivened only at rare intervals by \\ 
pale and fleeting smile ; he seemed alien to what others 
said to him and to what he said himself; sometimes, only, 
a sudden gesture, a loiuier note in the voice of one 
conversing with him would dntw him from his inner 
contemplation and make him open great astonished eyes 
to think that any man could take so impassioned 
an interest in the things of this world. It would 
have been as great a mistake to consider him a 
hypocrite as to believe him to be unconcerned or 
disinterested, He was capable of diwimul&tiort ami 
was not loth to resort to Htrutat^m ; but he diil so 
with a free conscience, in view of a lofty cause* He 
was a worthy man at bottom, not without st certain 
simplicity and a little weak ami timid : he often readily 



72 

made a promise out of kindness which his weakness pre- 
vented him from keeping* He was accompanied by 
three rather boorish and dull-witted lamas, who seemUd 
as though they had come only to listen and to act as wall- 
flowers with their yellow jackets : in reality, they had 
deliberative votes in the embassy, for they represented the 
three great monasteries in the neighbourhood of I Jiasa 
Sera, Drebung and Galdan which have a preponderant 
influence in the government. Lastly, the two jongpons, 
or prefects, of Scnja and Nagchu had arrived, so that, 
on the iyth of December 1893, there were fourteen 
officials on the bank of the Nam Cho, of whom six 
were Chinamen and eight Tibetans, Around them were 
gathered four hundred long-haired musketeers, hut 
yesterday herdsmen or peasants, similar in dress, hut 
different in type, some of them being hardly distinguish- 
able from certain Indo-Kwopt'uns by their slightly 
almond-shaped eyes, others resembling the MongoK with 
their wide, round, flat faces, others sixain recalling the 
Redskins of North America by their tall stature, tlu*ir 
long, square, bony faces, their large, hooked noses, their 
wide, thin-lipped mouths, their strong teeth, their hardy 
muscles, while differing from them, however, in the 
height and narrowness of their foreheads and u gentler 
expression of face. 

The officials at once came to visit us in great ntute. 
They were clad in splendid dresses dainty wlkt*, '<oft 
and exquisite furs and this brilliant finery matle a 
ntther amusing contrast with the wiMness ot the land- 
scape and with our own attire, which was greatly 
neglected, through no fault of our own, Stripped of 
all its polite forms and rhetorical superfluities, the speech 
which the vice-legate addressed to us might he summed 
up in the phrase with which certain slanderous tonguc# 
pretend that the Genevese are wont to receive thetr 
guests : 



Uibct 73 

" My dear sir, 1 am delighted to see you ! How 
soon are you going ?" 

He handed us the visiting-card of the chief of the 
Chinese mission, who, in welcoming us to the country, 
begged us to forgive him for not replying earlier, as he hud 
been prevented from doing so by having pressing matters 
to settle on the Indian frontier. lie regretted not to be 
able to give us a favourable reply to the letter with which 
we hud honoured hinij in spite of his keen desire to be 
useful and agreeable to visitors whom he regarded as 
friends of the Kmpire and even as personal friends of 
his own. We must he assured that he would be pleased 
to accede to all our requests, with the exception of that 
asking to be admitted to Lhasa, We were no doubt 
aware of the strictness of the usage of immemorial 
antiquity which prohibited ICuropeans from entering 
Tibetan territory ; there was no precedent of a man 
coming from Kurope who had ever been allowed to visit 
the capital of the country and he was sure that we would 
be the first to understand that it was impossible to nutkt' 
an exception in our favour. 

We protested that, in the seventeenth century, 
French missionaries had resided for many years at 
Lhasa; that, in the eighteenth century, Orattio della 
Penna had written a narrative of his journey to Tiber 
and his stay in the Holy City; that, in 1 8 jo, Thomas 
Manning, the English traveller, had remained for a 
whole year at Lhasa; that, lastly, less than fifty yearn 
had elapsed since our fellow-countrymen Hue ami Gabct 
hud spent several months there, We therefore claimed 
only the application of the common right, founded on 
an ancient prescriptive usage which had never been 
interrupted. 

The vice-legate cried cut : he had never heard of 
all this and questioned the Tibetans present, who all 
displayed a touching unanimity in their ignorance; ami, 



74 

surely, if the facts which we alleged hud really taken 
place, none could have known better than they, whiph 
showed that our credulity had been played upon by 
impostors. To endeavour to correct their wilfu! 
ignorance would have been time wasted ; but, in 
the course of our subsequent conversations, we could 
not resist the pleasure of frequently mentioning the 
relations enjoyed by our predecessors and of often 
insinuating some such phrase as, "One of our fellow- 
countrymen, who stayed at Lhasa fifty years ago, 
says ..." whereat our auditors would adjust 
their countenances and affect a stern and impassive 
attitude, They were the more embarrassed inasmuch 
as it was impossible for them to deny the accuracy of 
the facts quoted, our illustrious forerunner and fellow 
countryman having had a general curt,* lor truth whith 
his detractors have not always displayed. 

Nevertheless, on one occasion, l\,re Hut: was dis- 
approved of, in connection with the microvope. When 
we described the curiosity aroused by this iintniwrnt 
among the exalted dignitaries of I,hrr;a aiui told how, 
Pere Hue having asked for some extremely small 
object, such as an insect, for the purposes of hi 1 * demon 
stnttion, one of the principal lamas present had at onu; 
put his hand into his clothes and otYcml flu* experi- 
mentalist a propcr-sixed flea, the vice-legate could not 
help laughing and the lamas showed by their attitude 
that they looked upon the thing as quite natural ; but, 
when we added that, the flea having ptvrislu'J amid the 
general eagerness to admire it under flu* minifying 
glass, the noble onlookers hud been scandalised ami 
dismayed at this ruthless killing of a living thing, our 
audience protested that one was not expected so gnMtty 
to respect sin animal which contains so insignificant 
a particle (if, indeed, it contain one at, all) of the? 
human soul : the only thing being that one mustf 



TEtbct 75 

crunch it between the teeth and not crush it between 
the finger-nails. 

* We repeated to the vice-legate, adopting the Chinese 
point of view, the arguments which we had put forward 
in our conversation with the first envoys from Lhasa. 
We laid especial stress upon our character of disinterested 
travellers : we were not political agents, nor religious 
missionaries, nor seekers after adventures or lucrative 
enterprises against whom the Chinese government might 
have more or less well-founded reasons to protect itself; 
but what motive could possibly be alleged for impeding 
the progress of scientific explorers, bent, above all, upon 
remaining foreign to any kind of intrigue and scrupu- 
lously respecting the laws, the customs and the authorities 
of the countries through which they passed ? Could it 
be that the geographical labours with which we were 
entrusted and the maps which we were making were 
causing them anxiety, as being able to serve as a basis of 
operation for a military expedition ? Bui Kuropean 
Powers had waged successful wars in regions the 
geography of which was no better or even less well 
known than that of Tibet is to-day (in saying this, 
Dutreuil de Rhins was thinking of Tongking). And, for 
that matter, we were prepared to dispel any nuspicions 
in this respect by undertaking to execute no geographical 
labours except within those limits where we should be 
authorised to do HO* In short, our one wish was to go 
to the only neighbouring town where there were proper 
resources and where the climate was endurable, in order 
to rest from our fatigue, to restore our shattered healths 
and to reconstitute our caravan so that we might net out 
again as soon as possible, At the same time, Dutreuil 
de Rhius gave the vice-legate his map of Tibet The 
mandarin seemed greatly pleased, examined the map, 
which he understood how to read, and particularly the 
roads which he knew between Lhasa and Chamdo and 



76 IH&ct 

Darjeeling, declared that it was the most accurate map of 
Tibet which he had yet seen and thanked DutreuilUie 
Rhins effusively : 

"You must not think," he said, "that we entertain 
the least anxiety as to your geographical studies ; on the 
contrary, we look upon them as very useful to ourselves, 1 ' 
and, turning to the Tibetans, in an imperious tone," You 
will take care not to interfere with these gentlemen in 
any way in their astronomical observations or topographi- 
cal surveys ; you must help them as far as in you lies 
and, if they ask you for the names of the districts through 
which they pass or the neighbouring places, inform them 
with sincerity and accuracy." 

The Tibetans bowed low and the vice-legate con- 
tinued : 

We are entirely at your disposal for the reorganiv< 
ing of your caravan ; you can do that here quite as well 
as at Lhasa, whither the terms of your passport do not 
authorise you to proceed, Nor, tor that mutter, have 
you any great reason for regret, f Jmsu is a horrible 
place, where the sky is inclement, the men savage, the 
houses uncomfortable and the soil infertile. Nothing 
grows there but barley and pea*; ami, even then, each 
grain sown gives only four in the reaping. Since we 
Chinese have settled there, we have endeavoured to 
improve the country, to introduce frt'h crops, wheat, 
rice, vegetables, fruit-trees ; but our efforts have been 
foiled by the uncouthnesH of the population awl the 
ruggedness of nature. We have with great difficulty 
succeeded in planting a few puny and stunted trees, in 
sowing two or three fields of corn whic'h produce hardly 
anything. You would waste your time in jjoinft to look 
at a country like that. You seem to think that a fear of 
political intrigues is at the bottom of our refusal to 
accede to your request. You are mistaken : we have 
nothing to fear and, if your hypothesis were correct, we 



77 

could not but yield before the excellence of the argu- 
rrgpnts which you have unfolded. We were convinced 
beforehand that your visit, had it been possible, far 
from causing the slightest inconvenience, would have had 
none but the best results. To tell the truth, it is the 
Tibetans who are responsible for this refusal : we are not 
their masters, but simply their councillors. They decide 
as they think fit and not only are they very obstinate 
and jealous of their independence, but you can see for 
yourself, from the functionaries whom their government 
has sent to you, how very uncivilised this nation is and 
how incapable of understanding* You and I, on the 
other hand, know the Li, the code of international polite- 
ness, and> if you had a passport for Peking, I should he 
pleased to take you to Lhasa through every obstacle : if 
necessary, we would call out the whole garrison of the 
city to cause the Kmperor's orders to be respected/ 1 

If we next turned to the Tibetans, they, with great 
humility, would declare that they were acting only in 
accordance with the instructions of the Chinese 
authorities : 

" The amban is the master/* said the very men 
who had pretended that he had nothing to say in the 
matter ; and, in fact, they were very tiny people in 
his presence and kissed the dust beneath his feet, 

We disclosed to them what the vice-legate had told 
us> that, if we had a passport for I Jiasa, he would take 
us straightway to the foot of the I'ntola : 

" We propose, therefore/* we added, w to send to 
Peking for this passport which, in view of the close 
bonds of friendship that exist between China and 
France and of the impossibility of raining any serious 
objection, will certainly not be refused ; and, in this 
way, we shall soon be visiting the Dalai Lama." 

They were greatly shocked and replied that, even 
if we had an order for Peking, they would not allow us 



78 

to pass. It was useless to insist upon the inconsistency 
of their language and the incompatibility between thpir 
words and the vice-legate's ; it was vain to say to them : 

"At least, agree among yourselves ! " 

They did not feel the need for any such agreement 
nor did their mutual contradictions cause them the 
smallest embarrassment : 

"We are convinced,'* they said, "that you mean us 
no harm and we have the highest opinion of you ; but, 
according to our religion, your presence would con- 
taminate the sacred soil/' 

"But, after all, you admit Moslems and Brahmins; 
and, if it be sufficient lo be a Buddhist to have the 
right of admission, we have plenty of very sincere 
Buddhists in France, Would you receive these if they 
applied to you ?" 

"No doubt, any good Buddhist has the right to go 
to Lhasa ; but we should always have reason to suspect 
the good faith of a Kuropeun professing Buddhism* 
As for the Moslems and others, we tolerate them because 
they are of no importance ; the Piling (Kuropeans) arc 
the only people that need be considered." 

This betrayed their secret and showed us that fear 
was the guiding principle of their policy, a fear which 
had increased at the same time and in the Mime propor- 
tion as the British power in India. They reflected that, 
although we, who were scientific travellers and I'Yendv- 
men, might not be dangerous, the English, who were 
disseminators of intrigue, discord and conquest, would 
enter by the door which we .should have opened, without 
counting that, behind us, they saw those Catholic 
missionaries whose */,ea! greatly alarms the lamas on the 
Scchuen side of the country, 

Meanwhile, the days were pacing by ami our 
situation was far from enviable. There was not much 
snow, but a keen wind blew ; the lake had been fro/en 



Uibet 79 

since the middle of the month ; the temperature varied 
between zero and 33 degrees below zero, according to 
the time of day ; and we were still in our tent without 
fire. The altitude of about 15,000 feet was hard to 
endure, even for the people from Lhu**a, who complained 
bitterly ; as for the Chinese, two of them were so ill that 
they had to be sent back to the town : it is true that 
both of them were opium-smokers. The Chan&pa, or 
men from the north, on the contrary, Denied ijuite 
acclimatised and we often saw them, burdened with the 
weight of their arms, climbing hills at a run and shouting, 
witnout losing their breath or discomfort of any kiiuL 
As for us, who had been living tor nearly four months 
at a similar or loftier height, our organs had become 
resigned, but not reconciled to it. The heart-disease 
from which our Chinese interpreter was suffering had 
grown much worse and the poor man's face was terribly 
swollen, Dutreuil tit* Rhins was in a sad physical 
plight : he suffered from rheumatism ami attacks of 
painful coughing (** This cruel cuugh which shatters me,'* 
he writes) and he was subject tt> sudden fainting-fits. 
One day, when he hud gone a few hundred yards from 
the camp to measure the principal peaks around us with 
the theodolite, he swooned away and we h;al to carry him 
back to the tent. 

Our sore-footed beasts, finding no edible grass, were 
unable to recover- The horses, slavering on their legs, 
hovering like nigs in the wind, roamed about in a tiis- 
consolate way : the tamer ones came and .sniffed in ottr 
pockets and raised the hangings of our tent to ask for 
the food which we were unable to give them ; they 
no longer hud the strength to chew their hurley ami, 
every day, one of them, suddenly struck motionless* ttnj 
looking fixedly before it with its glassy and watery eyes, 
would begin to spirt round and fall never to rise aguin. 
The camels lay kneeling, solemn and impassive, while 



80 Zttbet 

great crows settled on their backs and drove the hard 
horn of their beaks into their open sores, with the 
quiet satisfaction of an honest burgess sitting down to 
his dinner; and it was as much as the tortured victim 
troubled to do, from time to time, slowly 3 to turn its 
long neck with a grunt. It availed little to drive away 
the black monsters : they constantly returned. In the 
end, all our beasts died, with the exception of two 
camels. The neighbourhood of the camp became a 
charnel-house infested with crows and even more 
horrible huge vultures, through which we had to make 
our way by flinging stones at them. They would then 
move oft* by fluttering heavily away and settle down 
again at three paces from us, whence these filthy carrion- 
birds, which looked like hunchbacks, with their long 
bare necks tucked between their shoulders, sat watching 
us with their dull and stupid eyes, 

Our men, who already had had as much as they 
could endure of the journey anil its sufferings, were 
stirred up by the stories of Parpni, who told them how 
they could get back to Kashgar in two months, ami came 
to ask for their discharge, I regret to say that the 
Russian was at their head. He acted, I have no doubt, 
as he did from impulse and green-horn stupidity rather 
than from ill-will. Our Chinese secretary himself, who had 
been roundly rated by the vice-legate for assisting u and 
for writing, on behalf of Europeans, a much too well- 
turned letter and who had come back from his blowing-up 
filled with irritation against the Tatsus,* nevertheless took 
advantage of the first opportunity to pack up his trunks 
and go. Only three men remained faithful: Yunus, xvho 
was too ill to dream of leaving ; Mohammed lsa s who 
was not a Chinese subject, who was leas mad than the 
others and who saw, in staying at his post, an excellent 

*Thu name contemptuously given by the Chinese to the 
and Mimchurian barbarians, the Tartar*. 



Bi 

means of distinguishing himself and obtaining an in- 
crease of pay ; and, lastly, Mohammed Isa's shadow, 
Abdurrahman. The Chinese secretary was the first to 
return to the fold, upon the intervention of the vice- 
legate, who was delighted to be able so cheaply to prove 
his good feeling towards us. A short time after, the 
others came to beg pardon ; but Dutreuil do Rhins 
was too angry at their dastardly conduct and refused. 
The Tibetans and Chinese, on their side, strenuously 
opposed the men's departure ; and, after much vain 
and annoying discussion, Dutreuil de Rhins yielded 
with a bad grace and took back his men, with the 
exception of the three worst, whom he sent back by 
the road taken by the Mongolian pilgrims. 

These incidents did not cause him to lose sight of 
the course of the negotiations. The delegates from 
Lhasa, who were being bored, tried different artifices to 
persuade us to weigh anchor. The vice-legate told us 
that the Nam Cho was full of terrible monsters, that an 
old woman had just been eaten by a bear, that the 
wolves could be heard howling at night and that he 
himself dared not sleep without his sword by his side. 
The long-haired musketeers sometimes went through 
their military drill In an ostentatious manner, uttering 
blood-curdling yells* One day, they thought out a 
solemn farce ; while we were at the vice-legate's, al! 
the lamas entered in a body and threw themselvcH 
on their knees to beseech His Excellency to rid the 
country of the foreigners. Their prayer was urgent 
and a little insolent. His Excellency, turning to us, 
said : 

"You see! It's a difficult situation and we mut 
not strain it any further/* 

"I can quite understand," said Dutreuil tie Rhin% 
"that you are tired of remaining in this horrible wilder- 
ness ; 1 am no less tired than you. Why do we not all 

G 



82 

go to Dam, beyond the mountains ? We can there talk 
much more at our ease.'* ^ 

" It is quite as impossible to 1^0 to Dam as to 
Lhasa, 7 ' 

"Well then, we must wait for the reply from the 
government. 1 ' 

The reply came at the end of the month. Not only 
did the government forbid the foreigners to go to Lhasa, 
or even to Dam, but it ordered them without delay to 
return by the road by which they had come, adding that, 
if these orders were not strictly executed, the negotiators 
would be flung into the river with hands and feet tied. 
When giving us this news, the Chinese and Tibetan 
delegates seemed painfully afflicted : 

" We have done what we could for you," (hey said, 
with a pitying air, "but all in vain/ 1 

1 need, perhaps, hardly add that wr did not see the 
smallest paper signed by the King or the ministers ; but 
it was clear that it would serve no purpose to insist, 
Dutrcuil de Rhins declared that, if the reply of the 
authorities of Lhasa was not wise, perhaps, nor consonant 
with their best interests, that was their affair ; that ho, as 
a peaceful traveller, considered himself bound to defer to 
their wishes ; that, therefore, he gave up his plan of* 
going further south ; but that lu: did not think if con- 
trary to the spirit of the instructions to ask to he allowed 
to go by the road to Sining, in accordance with the 
terms of the imperial passport, and to stay, on that 
road, at the village of Nagchu for the length of time 
required for the restoration of his health and the re- 
organising of his caravan, for he considered that no 
self-respecting government would, uiulcr any pretext, 
allow official 'travellers to be left hanging about in the 
midst of the desert, 

"This is my last word,* 1 he said and broke off the 
interview. 



83 

The next day, we went to see the vice-legate, who 
bad something grave and mysterious in his air. When 
the page had served the tea and handed round the pipe 
of hospitality, the mandarin gave him a sign to go, 
made sure that no one was listening outside and, after 
a silence intended to enhance the effect of what he was 
about to say, informed us, in a deep and impressive 
voice, that the Tibetans would not listen to reason ; that, 
say what he might, they were determined to turn us 
back forthwith and by main force along the road by 
which we had come ; thut he \*as powerless openly to 
prevent them from executing their designs ; but that his 
great and sincere affection for us had suggested to him 
an expedient calculated to baffle their scheme : he would 
place at our disposal two of his Chinese officers, with 
some trustworthy servants acquainted with the country, 
who, leaving with us that same night, so soon as tne 
Tibetans were asleep, would take us in the direction of 
the road to Sining, so that, by the next day, we should 
be far enough away to discourage them from pursuing 
us. This scheme was not without danger for himself, 
but he was glad to run any risk in order to be of use to 
us, Suppressing a roar of laughter that tickled his 
throat, Dutreuil de Rhins burst into protestations and 
declared that he felt touched to tears at so precious a 
proof of devotion : 

" I expected no less," he said, " from so firm a friend 
as yourself. But you must confess that this flight under 
cover of darkness would be inconsistent with our 
dignity ; we must and shall act only in the light of day, 
Grant me also that our last proposals contam nothing 
that is unacceptable or opposed to the mitxuttiofts 
from Lhasa* There can be no question of making ui 
return by the exact same road by which we came, 
because nobody in the world knows that road except 
ourselves. In ordering us to retrace our steps, it as 



84 

evident that the government meant in u general way to 
make us go back north, instead of allowing us to gg, 
down further south. We jigree on this point and, in 
order to comply with this wish, I select the road to 
Sining, because my passport allows me to travel by it, 
because it is that which my instructions tell me to follow 
and, lastly, because it is that which will take me soonest 
out of the Lhasa territory, The village of Nagchu is 
on that road and, as I must needs stop somewhere to 
make my preparations, you may as well authorise me to 
stop there as here. You will thus have the satisfaction of 
seeing me further away from Lhasa ami I shall have the 
advantage of finding a house that will better permit me 
to restore my health than my worn-out tent, which is in 
urgent need of repair. You cannot refuse me anything 
so insignificant as this or so luvcssary to myself, nor 
can you force me to travel without being prepared, 
in the month of February, a time at which the 
roads are utmost impracticable*. You have never, for 
that matter, ceased to promise rm% in agreement with 
the Tibetans, that you would do everything to assist 
me to continue my journey under good conditions ; 
and I am relying on your promise now. As for 
what you tell me of the obstinacy and ill will of the 
lamas, I venture to believe that you are too modenf, 
that you do not attach enough value to your method* 
of persuasion and that you underestimate the power of 
the Emperor*" 

The vice-legate put on an air as if he thought that 
Dutreuil tie Rhins was a terrible man, whose opinion 
it was not easy to shake. We unite well knew how 
much to believe or disbelieve of the cunning liiuio* 
matist's talk, Those lamas, who, if we had listened to 
him, were at the bottom of all the mischief, were^ when 
one saw them in private, the most amiable and compliant 
people and at the same time the most respectful to 



85 

Chinese authority. They were made to play the part 
#f bugbears in spite of themselves, 

" Well," said the vice-legate, " [ will send for the 
Tibetans and you shall hear what they say." 

When they came, there was but one voice against 
our proposals : we were all the more wrong in insisting 
inasmuch as there were no houses at Nagchu, 

"No houses at Nagchu ?" 

"Ask the prefect himself!" 

That honourable functionary was fetched and, on 
arriving, bore loud witness that he had never seen the 
smallest house in the whole Nagchu district, although 
he had lived there for several years. 

"Then you live in a tent ?" we asked. 

"Just so," 

It was as though the prefect of Seinc-ct-Oisc were 
to declare that there was no palace ut Versailles, The 
lie was too gross not to deicat its own object We 
persisted in our demands. 

"In point of fact," the Lhasa delegates ended by 
saying, "this is none of our business* The prefect of 
Nagchu is master of his own district and responsible 
for what happens there, Let him say whether he 
will or will not have you/* 

The official referred to rose and, in the tone of a 
schoolboy saying a lesson, made a little speech which 
ended with the words; 

"I draw the conclusion that it is not expedient to 
grant the foreigners' demand/* 

The game of tennis was now being played with three 
racquets, The vice-legate stated that an idea had come 
to him which was capable, in his opinion, of bringing 
everybody into agreement: it was certainly impossible to 
oblige travellers whom the imperial recommendation 
rntoe worthy of the highest respect to stay in a spot as 
as that where we now were; he had learnt that 



86 ITfbet 

there was not far from there a place called Changchalam/' 
which had been described to him as very agreeable? 
sheltered from the wind and the cold, containing running 
water and good pasture-land ; they would there fix us 
up a good tent and send us the animals, the food, the 
stores and even the workmen of whom we stood in need. 
This place was not on the Nagchu road, which would 
satisfy the Tibetan authorities; on the other hand, it was 
situated on an easy road which would lead us straight to 
Sining and which, being unknown to that day, would 
please our taste as explorers. Dutreuil de Rhins replied 
that, out of consideration for the representative of the 
Chinese government and to show that he was guided 
in his conduct not by any vain obstinacy, but only by 
serious reasons, he would send me to examine the place 
in question; that, if I considered it satisfactory, he 
would move on there ; but that, if not, he would 
go to Nagchu and nowhere else, 

On the 8th of January 1894, I set ouf > escorted by a 
Chinese officer and thirty mounted Tibetans. The road 
in question was, in fact, very easy, in that part of it, at 
least, which I saw ; but it was not unknown and did not 
lead to Sining. It was the road to the hob Nor, which the 
Mongolian pilgrims follow and which M, Bonvsilot ami 
Prince Henry of Orleans had taken. The vice-legate 
was not a little ingenuous to imagine that 1 ahoukt not 
recognise it, the more so as I had with me a man who 
had been in those travellers 1 service, A$ for the apot 
known as Changchalam, situated at 23 miles to the north* 
west of Zamna, it possessed no advantage over our en- 
campment on the Nam Cho, On my return, on the loth 
of January, Dutreuil de Rhins said to the vice-legate j 

" I am very sorry not to be able to accept your 
proposal ; you must make up your mint! to have i3* al 
Nagchu*" I 

* Meaning simply the high-road tfl the north 



87 

The next day, two of our men, who had gone to 
fetch fuel, were ill-treated by armed Tibetans. This 
was the last attempt to intimidate us ; it was also the 
boldest ancl the clumsiest. We politely, but firmly 
declared that we demanded, as a satisfaction for this 
unjustifiable act ; 

1. The punishment of the culprits ; 

2, A prompt settlement of the Na^chu question in 
accordance with our wishes. 

A few poor devils, who perhaps had h;ul nothing to 
do with it, had their legs broken and our diplomatists, 
who had been dancing attendance on us for more than a 
month in one of the most inhospitable spots on earth, in 
the middle of the winter, at a height equui to the top of 
Mont Blanc, and who were growing restless at the 
approach of the New Year's festivities, which demanded 
their presence at Lhasa at the beginning of February, 
lost patience and granted in a few moments what they 
had been withholding so long. After a few conversation* 
on points of detail, a convention, drawn up in three 
languages and in triplicate, was signal ami scaled, on the 
roth of January, by the vice-legate, the chagpon and 
Dutreuil cle Rhins. It stated : 

i> That we were to go to Nagchu by the fthortcst 
road ; 

2. That a good house should be placed at our tiisp0*dl 
there for a month from the date of our arrival ; 

3. That our baggage, as well an the provision* mA 
stores ordered by us at Lhasa, should be carried to 
Nagchu on the same conditions fts the baggagtf of 
'Chimsftc officials travelling in Tibet, that it* to say fr<& 
of charge or at a greatly reduced pric<* ; 

4. That any disputes which might wm between our 
men and the inhabitants ahould be, settled in concert 
between ouraelven and the local authorities, according to 
tjid rtiles of equity } 



88 ZTlbet 

5. That the authorities at Nagchu undertook to 
procure for us, at the usual price, the necessary food aiyi 
animals, to give us generally every facility needed to 
allow us to continue our journey to Sining,,by the most 
direct route, under good conditions and, in particular, 
to give us the indispensable directions as well as guides 
to the frontier ; 

6. That no obstacle should be placed in the way of 
our scientific and geographical labours ; 

7. That we should respect the usages and customs of 
the country. 

Shortly before the signature of the convention, the 
chief lama, despite his air of detachment from worldly 
things, had timidly manifested a keen desire to know what 
curious things we had in our boxes and what presents we 
were going to make him ; but we took care to postpone 
the distribution of gifts until after the conclusion of the 
treaty* The lama appeared very much pleased with 1m 
share and especially with a very fine musical-box, which 
he would be glad, he wild, to present to the Dalai I,ama 
in person, who would thank UK for it* Certainly* 
although the skittish Majesty of the latter had kept us at 
o strict a distance, it was a pleasure to us to think that 
this infidel toy might for a moment detract the boredom 
of this young god exiled upon earth and that the profane 
frivolity of a comic-opera time would ning something of 
the joy of life to a child of eighteen, condemned from hi** 
swaddling-clothes to enforced holiness awl perpetual medi* 
tation, imprisoned for life in his austere dignity as in a 
narrow cell, removed from the pleasures of hb age, 
solitary in the midst of the dreary reapect of the crowd* 
hedged in by how and -endless ceremonies^ an un- 
bending and superhuman idol at the same time as a frail 
plaything of human ambitions which take him from thtf 
ctmlk to act htm on a pinnacle, keep him in leading* 
stringy suggest ull his thoughts to him, dictate a!) his 



ttibet 89 

words to him, arrange all his movements for him, keep 
\^,tch jealously lest his personality should emerge from 
its immortal sleep and, lastly, when they arc tired of 
him or feel that he is weary of the existence which they 
have created for him, deliver him from his revered 
slavery by helping him, from pity, no doubt, as well as 
from prudence, to be born again under a suppler and 
more docile shape. 

On the 1 9th of January, all the officials and lamas 
called upon us, in solemn state, to take their leave. They 
were amiable, smiling, flattering and caressing and never 
was bride on her wedding-morn more complimented and 
congratulated than were we that day. To thank these 
gentlemen for their graciousness, we exhibited a collection 
of lithographic prints, which had a great success. They 
went the round of the company, one after the other, and 
not one came back to us. The chief lama himself, while 
piously telling his beads, retained on their passage two 
fair and pink, delicate and sentimental beauties, of the 
type which the English love ; he was enraptured and 
dazzled by them and asked to be allowed to have them 
for a keepsake. 

The next day we left Zamnu, fifty days after our 
arrival The vice-legate offered us a stirrup-cup in the 
form of a dish of buttered tea and, suddenly displaying a 
more extensive acquaintance with Russian than he hail 
vet done, found a number of excellent phrases in that 
language in which to express his friendship for us aitd 
to wish us a good journey. Had he known Italian, 
he might, when thinking of the little comedy which he 
had played together with the Tibetan^ have repeated 
what Pius IX, said to M de Grammoftt,our ambassador * 
Buffoni di qtt& 9 bn$n\ di /&/ N&i skmo mi 



I am not reproaching him. Let that diplomatist 

has never concealed anvthtncr and who has a heart 



90 

pure of all artifice cast the first stone ! His knavery, 
on the whole,, was very innocent and he atoned for it by 
much politeness and by the good-humour with which 
he seasoned the dinners, necessarily somewhat scanty, 
which we ate together and enlivened our long talks, 
which did not always turn on thorny questions of 
business* In the concessions which he made us s he 
went to the extreme limit of his powers and of our own 
hopes ; and perhaps he kept us waiting for the desired 
solution only to make us appreciate it the more. 



CHAPTKR 111 

EXPLORATION'S OK lfa)+ ..... FROM Til! NAM CHO TO 



From the Nam Cho to Nii^chu ; the swmv!* <!' il;' Ailwt'iv - Xojjclw We 
act out for Sinhifj Hiwn of tint Tjij'vr S.ihvcni m unknown mut 
from LhiiKJi to Taaienlu Tito i*onlw> Tibi'lim* SIMMM of the Mint 1 
River -Source!* of the Mekong' Tadii (imnjt;i ; hostile inonkn; -^ (rent 
Tibetan fair The exploration of tin; Iwimin of thr l'ppr Mi'k**^ 
continued Jycrkumlo ; luistility of the nmnb; tin: agent-, of tin* 
Chinec government* 

WHILE Dutrcuil dc Rhiiw proceeded towards Nagchu 
by the direct road, 1 net about accompanying the chief 
lama to the foot of the Dam Larghiw Lu This was a 
slight favour which was not obtained without difficulty 
and the risk of reopening the whole question ; hut we 
had insisted on it m order to he able to connect our 
route exactly with that of M, Bonvalot, I camped, in 
the evening, at the extreme point reached by the latter 
traveller. All day long, we hud horrible weather, heavy 
mists on the mountains and the lake, hail, snow, a biting 
wind and a penetrating cold. 

"See! " said the lama* "The spirit* of the iftke arc 
weeping because you have troubled it* sercitityl M , 

** No," I replied, u they are weeping ovcf ouf 
departure,'* 

, He deigned to smile at my poor joke, This chief 
for that matter, ww a goodj gentle, 
We talked long at^d far into the night, 



92 

told me that he was happy to have met us, because 
people who knew each other better learnt to esteem erch 
other more ; that the prejudices which nations entertain 
against one another disappear with their ignorance of one 
another ; that he had now a better idea of what 
Europeans were like ; that he would keep a kindly 
remembrance of us and particularly of Dutreuil de 
Rhins, who was a little plain-spoken, it was true, but who, 
It was easy to feel, had an excellent nature at bottom. 
He next indulged in a dream of a journey to Europe 
and France and asked me for information : how he 
would have to set about it ; how many days the voyage 
would take ; whether he would be well received in 
France, notwithstanding that Tibet had closed its doors 
to us ; 

"It is not our fault," he said; "custom is too 
strong for us. It is u pity ; I should have liked to take 
you with me to Lhasa to sec the New Year's festivities and 
you would have seen whut a beautiful country Lhasa in/* 

I observed that the vice-legate, on the contrary, hud 
drawn a far from attractive picture of it. 

" That is because he is a foreigner," said the lama* 
" One cannot fully appreciate the beauty of any country 
but one's own. It is, nevertheless, the case that at Lhasa 
there arc large numbers of white houses, hills crowned 
with temples with golden roofs to them, a limpid river^ 
flowing through the plain shaded by tall trees and green 
with gardens and crops, and that the soil produces all the 
necessaries of life : rice, wheat, barley and fruits and 
vegetables of every kind. While the people work, we 
Jamas pray that rain may fall when the earth needs it ; 
we bring back the sun when the country wants hestf J 
and that is why this land blessed by the gods H fertile 
and prosperous/' 

I reminded him of two promises which he h&J maita 
us : to send us, at Nagehu, two rare and interesting 



{Tibet 93 

volumes on the history of Tibet and to propose to the 
government council that it should no longer, in the 
Future, oblige travellers who appeared at the frontier 
after an arduous march through the desert to remain for 
long days at a time in uninhabited spots, but instead, to 
offer them hospitality, for a limited period, in the nearest 
village, The lama saw in this a simple Question of 
humanity, which could have no religious or political draw- 
back, and promised us to support this suggestion at Lhasa. 
He renewed his promises, but, alas, they were all blown 
to the wind. And that wind of Tibet is so terrible ! 

On the 2 ist of January > I set out again to join 
Dutreuil dc Rhins, accompanied by a respectable 
escort commanded by the tongyifF 1 * of Nagchu, This 
tongyig combined the functions of prefectortal secretary, 
clerk of the court, collector of taxes and chief of police. 
He was a jolly companion who tried to put on a 
serious air, a difficult thing with his pointed and 
tolerably bald pate, his huge red ears sticking out from 
the sides of his head, his small goggle eyes gay or 
dull according to the time of day, and hi* large, bony, 
brandy-blossomed nose* In his family, as he explained 
to us, a man became a tongyig from father to gon, 
in accordance with the Tibetan custom* and he was as 
proud of the ink-horn that hung from his belt as a 
nobleman of his sword. He was, conjointly with hi* 
two brothers, the partial husband of a lady of Gyangtwc, 
his native city; on the other hand) at Nagchu, he was the 
sole proprietor of two wives* When, in order to dr^w 
htm out, we told him that, according to our ideat* it 
would not be considered correct thu to divide one wife 
among several, white* at the same time, having 



wives for one's self alone, he grew angry ana replied 
that our ideas were the idw of barbarians, who knew 
about morality j 



94 

"Brothers have nothing to refuse one another ! " 
" So that, if your brothers came to Nagchu , . J* 
" There is a distinction ! It is quite another thing. 
My wife at Gyangtse lives on our common, indivisible, 
paternal property ; she herself, therefore, shares those 
qualities of the property, On the other hand, my wives 
at Nagchu live on my personal and private effects and 
they are my private and personal property, with which 
my brothers have nothing to do. That is logic/' 

He had under his orders a few fashionable young 
men, with panther-skin borders to their tunics, handsome 
silver rings in their ears, turquoise and coral ornaments 
in the plaits of their hair. At one time, they would gaily 
urge their horses onward; at another, they would make 
them paw the ground beside the caravan, flinging to the 
winds the notes of some profane song, while old men of 
sixty or sixty-five, their long ^rey hair floating over their 
shoulders, went their peaceful little yait, saying their 
prayers in a snuffling voice, which now rose loud and 
solemnly and again dropped suddenly in a confused 
muttering, It is curious that very distant and very 
different peoples should huve agreed in considering a 
snuffling tone to be that most agreeable to the divinity, 
The Roman Catholics sing Latin through their noses ; 
among the perfections introduced into religion by the 
Puritans, the intensity of their snuffling was one of 
those which made the most noise in the work! ; the 
Moslems would think that they were insulting the sacred 
word if they did not pronounce it through their noses ; 
I have spoken of the Tibetans ; ami the Chinese actors, 
when they want to rise to the sublime, take pains to puss 
the sounds through their olfactory organs, 

To return to my old men, they had good, simple, 
smiling faces ; they were kind and eager to be useful to 
me. At the halting-place, they arranged the tent, saw to 
it that the fire blazed, that the tea boiled, that nothing 



THbet 95 

was wanting, came and went, still brisk in their some- 
what bent old age, walking with short, quick steps on 
the uneven ground and wriggling their haunches in the 
Tibetan fashion. No, indeed: the people of this 
country have none of the shy rudeness with which our 
imagination so readily endows them; but do not press 
them with questions, for they are persuaded that their 
masters have given them speech to disguise the truth 
from foreigners. 

We crossed on the ice a tributary of the Nam Cho, 
the Chakartsang, So yards wide. Our horses were not 
rough-shodj but did not slip for a moment daring this 
crossing. Asiatic horses arc generally firm-footed on the 
ice: this was not my first experiment and, to quote only 
one, I had several times, on a horse which was not rough- 
shod, crossed the frozen river Yarkand, about Boo yards 
wide,* without encountering the least mishap. After 
crossing the little Setalaghlugh Pass, which was difficult 
only because of the snow which covered it at the lime, 
I joined the mission, on the i2tui t in u large grassy 
valley beside a lake which ran out of sight towards the 
north-west. This was the Bum Cho, which corresponds 
with the lake entered on Dutreuil de Rhins' map under 
the Mongolian name of Buka Nor. Upon my arrival, 1 
saw that the lama-prefect of Nagchu and Dutreuii tie 
Rhins were on excellent terms and talking familiarly 
without understanding each other. Laughingly, the lama, 
with his air of a good country priest, tried to thrust 
different Buddhist prayers into his interlocutor's head ; 

" You see,** he said, " religion is necessary to men* 
Come, say after me, c Om mam paJme hum I * * , No } 
not ^pedmk ; * *p<idmij through your nose. . , , 
That's it . , . You say that ten thousand times 
a day and you will be all the better for it" 

* At the apot where it ia crowed in winter and counting the turni 
which one ia obliged to tulcc, 



96 

Until Nagchu, the country is undulated by small 
mountains, generally rounded in shape, grass-grown au<i 
separated by valleys which extend freely and give the 
easiest road that one could wish for to Tibet. On the 
24th of January, we passed abreast of Lake Bui Cho, so 
called after the borax that abounds on its shores ; on the 
26th, we crossed to the Black River, or Nag Chu, which 
is no other than the Upper Salwen and comes from the 
Amdo Cho Nagh. Its bed stretches to a width of 200 
yards, but, at that time, only 40 yards were occupied by 
the firaen water of the river. On the ayth, we reached 
the plain of Nagchu, surrounded by long lines of low 
hills, covered with the wintry grass like a thread-bare, 
discoloured carpet. In the middle were gathered about 
sixty .square, whitewashed stone house's, each consisting 
of one floor alone, so that the convent of Kyabtcn 
timidly overtopped them all with its solitary upper storey 
and its flat roof adorned with many-coloured streamers, 
The r/,e of the plain made this poor group of houses 
appear still smaller and flatter. As we entered the village, 
the dirt and wretchedness of the dwellings, the silence and 
solitude of the alleys frequented by lean dogs, base and 
sullen devourers of the dead, the absence of any flowers 
or plants, of any picturesque ntg of stuff, of any bright 
colour, of all that interests or gladdens the eye gave us 
an impression of shabby dreariness, which impression 
was increased by the monotony of the surrounding land- 
scape, a monotony hardly relieved by a modest convent 
of women* on the slope of the western hill and by the 
appearance in the south, above the bare knolls, of the 
highest summits of the snow-mountains, which the dis- 
tance and the intervening strips of foreground deprived 
of their grandeur. The inhabitants have no resources 
beyond their herds and their pasturage: no husbandry, 



Mm* Rttwba* An<' uicmiH aunt imd, by cxteiiHum, worrwn in 
general, 



Wet 97 

no trade ; they have to go to fetch the wood necessary 
for the construction of their houses at twelve days' 
march, on the banks of the Sog Chu, a little to the north 
of its confluence with the Nag Chu. However, the 
caravans going to or from Tasienlu and Sining pass 
through this place and give it some Httlc movement and 
importance. A few days before our departure, we saw 
a caravan sent to Tasienlu by the Pangchen Rinpocheh 
of Tachilhunpo: it was led by three noble lamas and con- 
sisted of a hundred armed men and seven hundred beasts 
of burden ; we caught it up on the road and met it 
again at Jyerkundo. During the fine season, the move- 
ment is greater and the herdsmen of the surrounding 
districts come in from a distance of several days, or even 
a month, to sell their wool and their hides and to buy 
the tea and flour which they need. 

Such is the principal town of the province of 
Nagchukka, a very large province, although numbering 
no more than 10,000 inhabitants* It is governed by two 
prefects, a monk and a layman, according to the Tibetan 
custom, which prescribes that, in the majority of 
administrative offices, the religious and lay elements 
shall reign side by side and mutually watch over each 
other. The two prefects are supposed to take all their 
decisions in concert ; and, as a matter of fact, the layman 
has no difficulty in agreeing with the monk, for he 
approves of all that his colleague does. On the occasion 
of the stay in this spot of two persons as dangerous as 
ourselves, the Lhasa government took an additional 
precaution : it sent a new prefect, who was to replace 
the one in office after our departure and, in the mean- 
time, to watch over him. He was picked from *mt*g 
the monks of Sera, who are the most masterful, the 
hardest against the people, the most intolerant and 
the most hostile to Europeans of all the monks of 
He locked himself tip in the convent, held no 



08 TTibct 

communication with us and, every day, cross-questioned 
the prefect about us : 

" What are they doing ? What do they say ? What 
do they ask for? When are they going away ? Above 
all, be discreet and show no weakness ! " 

The Lhasa government understood very well and 
even exaggerated a little the importance of the con- 
cession which we had wrung from it We had created 
an embarrassing precedent by striking at the sacrosanct 
principle of the inviolability of Tibetan territory; for 
not only the capital is forbidden to Europeans, but" the 
whole extent 01 Tibet and chiefly the towns and villages, 
that is to say all the places where the Kuropouns are 
supposed by these maniacs of distrust and fear to be 
able more easily to keep up relations wilh the population, 
to carry on intrigues, to ;iovv I IK* stvds of discord and 
revolt* Since the time when tlr-s principle became an 
absolute dogma of Chino-Tibetan policy, all the travellers 
who, like ourselves, hud succeeded, by surprise, in pene- 
trating more or less far into the country had been 
rigorously shown out again ; they hud never been 
allowed any right except that of leaving as quickly as 
possible, by the most deserted road, and the authorities 
had carefully avoided permitting them to pass through 
any town or village. If, occasionally, they had stayed 
for a few weeks or chiys at any point in Tibetan 
territory, this had been only it state of fact, which the 
government had always declared to be unlawful and at 
once exerted itself to bring to an end: the principle, 
therefore, had not been encroached upon. Wo were 
the first to obtain, by it treaty in due form, the right 
to stay on the forbidden territory, in a village which 
wan the capital of a prefecture, in a house that wsw 
not an inn, under the .shadow of a sacred monastery. 
The government was obliged to curry out the con- 
vention signed by its plenipotentiaries, but it meartC 



99 

to keep us strictly to the limits which the convention 
ffked, to prevent us from abusing it in order to establish 
any relations with the population other than those neces- 
sary to our revictualling and the preparations for our 
journey and to put every possible obstacle in the way of 
the accomplishment of our supposed plans of espiwwjre. 
For the rest, it relied upon the unpleisantness of our 
stay in this wretched and remote place to discourse any 
one from imitating our example and it did not reflect 
that explorers find their pleasure wherever there is 
anything to see, that a small village is often us fertile in 
information as a great city and that our annoyances 
would be quite wiped out by our satisfaction in having 
opened in the wall of Tibetan prejudice i\ peep- holt: of 
which our successors would make a window. 

As a signal mark of favour, the preferct gave us the 
best house in Nagchu, It comprised* in .ill, three rooms 
on the ground-floor, opening by as many doors into a 
court-yard, sixty feet square, surrounded by walls four 
feet high. A rampart of dried cow dung flanked the 
right of the building and set oft" its architecture. Inside, 
a great heap of the same material constituted the most 
noteworthy ornament of our new lodging;,, which were 
floorless, dirty, overrun with vermin, smoke-ridden and 
dark. Outside, the wind roared, the snow whirled) the 
thermometer registered 30 degrees below 7,ero. Our 
abode had no chimney, it was impossible to light 
a fire and we begun to think that, in spite of 
the bad weather, it might have been more pleasant 
to start at once ; but it wa necessary that we should 
stay the whole month to enforce our right*. We thought 
of building stone stoves : we set to work and, in two 
clays, all was ready and the fires were blaming merrily 
in these impromptu receptacles. We hud reckoned 
without the wind, which smoked us out, ami we found 
no way of warding off this inconvenience. Luckily, our 



ion TObct 

two chimneys, having separate outlets, did not smoke 
at the same time, for the wind changed according to the 
time of day : in the morning, driven from my room by 
irritating clouds of smoke, 1 went to call on Dutreuil 
de Rhins, who enjoyed a pure atmosphere at that hour ; 
and he returned my visit in the afternoon. Although 
our experiment in masonry had not answered all our 
wishes, it nevertheless attracted a great crowd of people. 
The prefects and their suite admired the ingenuity of the 
Europeans ; our landlord, a worthy old man of seventy- 
eight, who endeavoured to make up for lost time by 
ardently spinning his praying-wheel and interlarding his 
least speeches with prayers and litanies, praised our 
architectural efforts and sent in a claim for damages. 
Our interpreter, who was a. wag in his way, replied that 
he ought to be ashamed at his age to occupy himself 
with such trifles, that he hud bolter take cure not to 
migrate into the skin of a dog or a rat and that, in 
all justice, he ought to contribute out of his savings 
towards the improvements which we had made in 
his property. He consented at last to let an off paying 
provided that he were not asked to pay himself: it 
is true that he received from us, for a month's rent, 
more than a Tibetan would ever have paid him for 
a year. 

Two things consoled us for these discomforts, namely, 
that the prefects were worse lodged than ourselves and 
that they were amiable and obliging, 1 have not 
presented the lay prefect to my readers, but thiw 
estimable magistrate, a short, thin, spare man, with his 
tuft of grey beard on his chin and his glittering diamond 
on his finger, was a very discreet person, who loved to 
stay quietly anil peacefully in his corner, and we thought 
it rigrtt to respect hin modesty, 1 1$ and his colleague 
did not omit to call on UK on the firt day of the Tibetan 
year and to present UH with their compliments, with 



101 

scarves of honour, jugs of foaming clwng ' and different 
presents. They and the members of their suite had put 
on their best clothes and washed their faces for the 
occasion. We became aware of the latter detail through 
the fact that their necks were as black as on the other 
days of the year, while their checks shone with an 
exceptionally bright, vermilion radiance. The lama told 
us that he regretted that the festivals were not very 
splendid at Nugchu, that this poor village coulvl not, like 
Lhasa, offer us a spectacle worthy of our contemplation ; 
and he described to us the gaieties celebrated in the capital 
in the course of the first month of the year; the solemn 
blessing of the people by the Dalai Lama ; his banquet 
to the Chinese and Tibetan officials ; the dance of axes 
performed by a troop of younjj; men ; the feast of lanterns 
and the exhibition ot ban-reliefs iu butter; the review of 
the troops which march three times round the Jokang 
Temple and which, to drive away the demons, discharge 
numerous volleys of musketry and iire off the big 
cannon, which is a thousand years old and which is 
redoubtable not only because of its age, but also for its 
inscription: "I am the destroyer of rebellion;" the 
horse-races ; the foot-races ; and, lastly, on the last day 
of the month, the theological discussion between the 
devil and the advocate of the Dalai Lama, a discussion in 
which the Spirit of Darkness, falling' short of arguments, 
proposes a game of dice to settle the question, but, as he 
infallibly throws blank, he takes fright and runs away, 
pursued with gun-shots, mocked, howled at and beaten 
fey the crowd of lamas and laymen. At Nagchu, we saw 
none of these diverting things ; we had only the story of 

*A wort of beer which U manufactured AH follow**: grain* of barley 
arc boiled ; when cold, a y<:;ist in addtnt compogeti of flour, ginger itnd 
bonga (aconite ? ) ; the whole to left to ferment for two or three clay* ; 
then water h added. When carefully prepared, thiu maket* a plctutunt, 
more or leaa eitcrvcscing drink ; but it doc* not keep. 



102 

them, like Don Cresar reading another's love-letters 
to the smell of dishes that were not tor him. * 

The severe cold and the snow-storms that raged 
throughout the month of February were very painful to 
us. The altitude, although lower than it had been, for it 
did not now exceed 14,600 feet, appeared to us, because 
of the dampness, as difficult to support as those above 
16,400. The relative rest which we enjoyed, coming 
after a period of extreme and continuous fatigue, so far 
from being favourable to our health, injured it by, in a 
measure, relaxing the springs of our constitution. Sick- 
ness is a person that loves ease, calm and idleness ; it 
hates bustle and flees those who march, act and toil 
unceasingly. Dutreuil de Rhins' bronchitis bcr.ime 
chronic as it grew worse : as for myself, I suffered 
from complete loss of voice, u very inconvenient coin- 
plaint for an interpreter in constant pnulkv ; but all this 
was not dangerous. The case was different with our 
interpreter Yunus, whose condition grew daily worse* 
A lama doctor deigned to come down from the convent 
to attend to him ; lie felt the patient's left pulse for five 
minutes, his right for as long and then explained to him 
at length how there were in the human body three 
cardinal humours, to wit, the phlegm, the bile and the 
wind, which in Tibetan is called ///#(;'/></, each of which is 
sub-divided into five kinds ; that from the derangements 
arising in the circulation of these three humours spring 
the four hundred and four maladies recognised by the 
faculty ; that the examination which he had just made of 
the patient's pulse enabled him to establish the diagnosis 
of a disorder of the Hwgpu or wind humour, in conse- 
quence of which he proposed t'o administer an appropriate 
remedy ; that* if the sick man were destined to be cured* 
he would not fail to get better ; but that, in the contrary 
case, his life would be in jeopardy* This doctor was an 
old man of eighty yearn, whose faee blooming with health, 



ftibet 103 

together with his air of gentle gravity and simple 
Conviction, strengthened the impression of confidence 
inspired by the wisdom ami the authentic Svience of 
his language. Our poor Yunus was comforted by it 
and had hardly taken the first remedies prescribed by 
the faculty before feeling relieved ; nevertheless, he did 
not neglect his soul and, when not sleeping, piously read 
a little book containing prayers out of the Koran. 
He had asked to remain in the common room with his 
fellows ; and, one day, the jyth of February, just three 
years after our departure from Paris, passing outside the 
closed door, 1 heard on the other side a snct-xc, followed 
by a loud and merry burst of laughter, f went in awl 
saw Yunus on his knees, in the midst of the laughers, 
with his head on the ground ; 1 went to him and, 
raising his head, saw that he Irul cease* I to live, 
Dutreuil de Rhins wished to send for the doctor to 
certify the death ; it was ditKailf to pmiwdc him 
that, according to Tibetan notions, this would have 
meant offering a mortal insult to that worthy man. 

We arranged for a funeral according to Moslem 
rites. The prefect was good enough, notwithstanding the 
contrary Tibetan usage, to permit the body to be buried 
at some distance from the village ; and, on the morning 
of the 2 ist of February, in a storm of wind and snow, we 
accompanied our unfortunate fellow-traveller to his last 
halting-place, on the side of the hill The hard earth 
refused to open to receive the sad remains and we had 
to be content to lay them in a natural crevice. One of 
the men, who was more or less of u clerk, having read 
the prayers for the dead and pronounced the sacramental 
words, " We are God's and to God we shall return/* 
we covered the body with heavy stones to protect it 
against the starveling dogs which had followed us, with 
gleaming eyes, and which hovered around us?, yelping 
with greed. 



104 

Meanwhile, we were busy making our preparations 
and collecting information as to the route to Sining" 
from people who had travelled over it. On the 5th or 
February, they brought us a man who had five times, on 
foot, made that journey of about 1,600 miles there and 
back. On his lust journey, which he hat! finished a 
month before, his feet had been frost-bitten and 
gangrened ; hideous sores kid formed and the front 
portions, almost completely severed, hung down like 
horrible rags. This poor wretch enumerated the names 
of I he dghU'"i.'i;j;ht halting-places where the yak caravans 
arc accustomed to camp. This was the actual trading 
mad followed by PITC Hut 1 ; it crosses the Yangtze 
(Chumar in Mongolian) at she Srvm Fords (kabdun, 
or Dolim Olon in Mongolian) and passes through the 
vilhtpft* of Jung, thus making \\ ivtluT wide circuit 
towards the north. \ow itccurdin^ 1 to the Chinese 
documents there must In* aitolju*r and more direct nud, 
whose existence' ! did, in fad, t^Uib!Kh later, although 
the merchants and peaceful travellers have abandoned 
it because it, in too much exposed to the incur- 
sions of the < Jolok brigaiuK If coincides with 
the other during its first portion, but separates 
from it before reaching the Vungt/.e, which it crosses 
below Chitttur Kahdim, and then pusses between 
lakes Kyuritig and Ngar'mg Chu. This is the road 
which Dutreiiil de Uhins wished to take, lie erow* 
tjuc^rioiied all who knew anything uhout the country 
lying between Nagehu antl Sining ;nid many who 
knew nothing; he tiirued them insidt: out; and he 
ended by having to lulmit tlmt this rinitt* h;ul been 
abandoned for u very lonj; time, swing that the very 
memory of it seemed to have died out, 

It wan mmt difficult to obtain intormutum, HO cute 
consenting to Hpenk without a fornml unthoriHiUton 
from the authorities, which gave ri*ic to rather 



105 

incidents. The prefect had sent to us, to'^ 
!tbout the road to Sining and, if necessary, to 
pany us, a rather shrewd young man who answered 
to the name of Dongdhub Tsering, which was the 
name of the famous warrior who, setting out from 
Khotan with a Mongolian army, invaded Tibet, by the 
road followed later by M. Bonvalot, and took Lhasa 
in 1717. In the matter of roads, he knew none 
besides the ordinary one, but we succeeded, one day, 
in making him tell us some interesting things about 
the social condition of the country. The next day, 
Dutreuil de Rhins, wishing to clear up an obscure point 
in the itinerary and seeing Donjj'tlluib near the door, 
called to him; but the other, instead of approaching, 
ran away and, the louder he was vailed to, the faster 
he made off, shouting : 

" I will go and ask leave of the ton^yiji;.** 
They had questioned him us to his interview with us, 
he had confessed his indiscretions and they had blown 
him up and forbidden him to say anything without beinf,* 
authorised to do so. He came back to us with the 
tongyig, who received a tremendous scolding at our 
hands. He protested that Dongdhub was a fool, that he 
had never been told not to speak, and, turning to him $ 
angrily apostrophised him and commanded him in future 
to tell all that he knew, all ! Dutreuil de Rhins turned 
the tongyig out of doors and buttons-holed Dongdhub, 
who was greatly perplexed what to do with himself ami 
his tongue : he got out of the difficulty thank* to an 
attack of partial amnesia. 

We and our men finding ourselves in need of tailor^ 
the prefect put two at our d'mpoftst!, who worked for 
several days in our court-yard They were excellent 
workmen, natives of Lhasa, whence they had been 
banished for unrulincHS and for airing their opinions, 
When they were together, they were secret us the 



IOG trt&ct 

tomb ; but, so soon as one of them was gone, the other 
would talk open-heartedly and betray fairly revolutionary 
ideas. According to him, the lamas were tyrants whom 
everybody hated and whom nobody had ever known to 
do the least good : 

cc If we could be rid of them, it would be a great 
relief for all Tibet. They prey upon the people with 
their tithes, collections, satas of indulgences and amulets, 
usury and monopolies. The government is their 
accomplice, sells justice, makes the people work for it 
without paying them, compels them to sell to it for 
tenpence what is worth twenty and to buy of it for 
twenty pence what i worth only ten and what they have 
no use for. The lamas of Sera are the worst of all. 
Twenty years ago, the monastery of (lakhin contrived 
a plot against the Dalai Liunu. More than one person 
of importunnj was poisoned in spile of the price which 
he hail paid for his platter;'! the people took up arms, 
but the monks of Sera put on their war-trousers |, and, 
descending into the plain, restored order. Since then, 
they are the masters . . , What the devil have you 
done with my thread? 11 he exclaimed suddenly to his 
returning companion* " I have been looking for it this 
last half-hour, without finding it; if you keep on going 
out KO often and so long, we shall never get done ; 
and they are in a hurry ! *' 

The work that had still to be done being much for 
the eight servants that remained to us, we obtained 

*T< IK* t'xsict, in iSyj. 

} Hvoiy Tibetan carru'H OH MM pmtim :i wumleu pUttlcr or pm'rtaffvr 
which hi: u so; to c;tt from uitU which lit* tint ninth to noiwnly, Somt; of 
tluw itlutturH ;irc worth as mu<*li as <<> rit(i*ttH, IH^UIIW thy 
to jK'-.Mt!>M the virtue of rciuirniiij poison iuitmniotm. 

{ Tiic hmuui wcur ;t ^/iwn \villioMt hitu'vcN ;iru! it hhnwi, c:ilU'ct 
which Hcrviis i cover their ttnttnl jiritiH, \\'hc ejtc*tptbnitl 
KtuttccH oblige them to tutu* an m'tive pnrt in ;n armed Mirugglu* tlu-y 
turn their ;atn#ost ittto breech*:*;. 



107 

leave to engage for two months two Tibetans, one of 
<whom bore the blissful name of Tachi Norbu, the 
jewel of happiness. This jewel of happiness was a 
very poor devil, whose property, as they say in Tibet, 
consisted solely of the smoke from his fire (d/wlmpa). 
As a child, he embraced the religious state, went 
through his noviciate and already saw in perspective 
an easy and certain life, with plenty of tea and plenty 
of butter, when he allowed himself to be tempted 
by a pair of bright eyes, was caught, soundly flogged 
and expelled. 

"And that," said the unhappy, forcibly unfrocked 
monk, " that is how the small pay for the great ! Do 
you think that the big-wigs stint themselves ? Not they 1 
You can indulge in sweets to your heart's content, if you 
have money ; and for the lamas whose purses are full 
their colleagues have eyes and sec not ana ears and hear 
not. They catch only the small fry, from whom the 
convent expects to gain neither honour nor profit," 

After we had repaired our plant and our tent, we 
thought of introducing an improvement into our 
campaignmg-mstallation by constructing a small portable 
stove. The comparative success of our stone chimneys 
had given us a taste and stimulated our creative 
faculties for this class of work* We discovered an old 
iron bucket, fitted a grid to the opening, planted it 
on three feet and made a circular hole in the bottom, 
to which we fixed a flue which we happened to have, 
This improvised instrument, simple, handy and light, 
never failed to fulfil its functions with the most scrupulous 
eutactness and rendered us at least as much service as the 
most perfect, shiny and highly-recommended English 
travelling-stove could have done, We regretted only 
that we did not invent it sooner, 

As for our travelling-provisions, of which we needed 
a considerable quantity, our flour and rice came from 



108 

Lhasa, while Nagchu supplied us with sheep, barley and 
tsampa. The reader will understand our weariness jtf 
counting and checking the quantities, when he learns 
that there is no other measure used in the country than 
the </e/t, a sort of square box, with no lid, which, when 
filled to the top, contains a pound at the most of tsampa. 
The person engaged in measuring has a wooden rule 
with which he levels the contents and he counts the 
successive measures aloud, repeating the last number 
several times in a different note, so as not to forget it, 
and suddenly raising his voice at each tenth number. 

Lastly, there remained the question of the beasts of 
burden. Of the animals which wo possessed on leaving 
Cherehen, we had only two camels left; and these poor 
beasts had been unable, in this wretched country, to 
find a grass that suited them : emaciated and exhausted, 
they dragged themselves sorrily on their shaking legs. 
We kept these old servants only from pity, hoping to 
be able to take them to a morv clement country, where 
they would regain their strength. We had, therefore, 
to make up our caravan afresh, \Vu needed a con- 
siderable number of animals to make the journey to 
Sitting, for, on the road which we intended to take, the 
traveller finds no resources and has to carry everything 
with him- On the other hand, Dutreuil de Khins 
no longer had enough money left to be able to depart 
from the strictest economy. He had to resign him^fU 
to starting on his new campaign with yaks, which are 
much more economical than horses, In fact, while 
currying the same load as a horse I speak of the 
Tibetan horse, for the horse of Turkestan carrir; more 
the* yak requires neither grain nor bran, but feeds 
itself entirely on the grass which it finds on the way ; 
moreover, it is much cheaper to buy. Whereas a, 
middling horse cost us about 80 rupee*, a good yak 
came to 20 rupees. Unfortunately, the disheartening 



Uibet 109 

slowness of these beasts was destined to be the chief 
?ause of the disaster which struck the mission, by 
preventing it from going straight to Sining without 
taking in supplies on the road, 

The bad weather had obliged us to prolong our 
stay at Nagchu a little beyond the fixed time. The two 
prefects began to grow impatient and anxiou* ami to 
tremble for their places ; for the Lhasa government i 
not a tender one. Accordingly, when, on the 6th of" 
March, the weather grew a little better ami we announced 
our departure for the next day, they felt relieved of a 
great burden. Our relations) which were threatening to 
become strained, grew easier ; frowning brows were 
unbent ; eyes looked bright and merry ; words became 
gentler and more amiable. The next morning, our 
two friends had the pleasure of accompanying us to 
the first halting-place, with an escort of about thirty 
horses. On leaving us, the religious prefect made us a 
farewell speech filled with ecclesiastical unction, while 
his colleague nodded approval at each word. I ie 
told us in elegant terms how agreeable our company 
had been to them during the too short weeks which 
we had spent together ; how they regretted to see 
us start so soon on a long and difficult journey ; ami 
how, nevertheless, they approved of our wisdom at 
not prolonging a stay which might have caused them 
so much embarrassment. He hoped that we would 
not take it unkindly of them that they had shown 
some impatience and ended by calling down upon 
us the blessings of the gods, which we had earned, he 
said, by our loyalty and our courage. We replied to 
these compliments as prettily aa we could and, after 
an interchange of small presents, the Tibetan official* 
left us, delighted to have acquitted themselves so well 
of the knotty task which their government hud laicl 
upon them. The government hastened to remove thorn. 



no 

I do not know what became of the layman, but the lama 
was appointed to an important post in the centraf 
government: this was a means of rewarding him for his 
services and, at the same time, of preventing him from 
coming into fresh contract with other European travellers, 
towards whom he might, perhaps, not display all the 
impartiality desirable. 

As for us, we felt as though we saw disappear, with 
them, Tibet itself, with its desert mountains, its snows, 
its icy winds, its privations and wretchedness. No 
doubt, the road which stretched before us was full 
of more rough mountains and more vast solitudes 
where the wind reigned and the cold ; but it was 
the road back. At its further end, our imagination 
saw, as in a mirage, under a beautiful and warm sun, 
rich plains, populous cities, comfortable houses and 
green trees, The foretaste of this approaching future 
smoothed all present asperities, And so we gaily once 
more donned our explorer's harness, in spite of our 
shattered healths ; for Dutreuil dc Rhins' chest was 
torn with a persistent cough and he had grown 
visibly thinner, while I myself was in no much oetter 
plight. 

The prefects had left, for our escort, a score of 
mounted men, under the captaincy of the tongyig. It 
was curious to see them, witn their long hair, their big 
caps and their great matchlocks, carelessly dangling their 
heads as they trotted on their little horses and incessantly 
turning their praying- wheels and mumbling endless 
litanies to beguile or at least to sanctify the weariness of 
the road. On reaching the halting-place and we were 
obliged to halt very soon to leave the yaks time to fe$$ 
they spent their leisure in swallowing an incalculable 
number of cups of buttered tea and in playing at dice or 
Some other game of hazard. Ardent gamblers that they 
they uttered little quivering and passionate cries to 



in 

mark their joy or their anger at the different turns of the 
contest. Still, we never saw them come to blows or 
quarrel violently. At nightfall,, the tongyig lit his lamp 
and a few joss-sticks, placed them on a little bench 
between two vases of symbolical flowers and, with 
curious inflexions of his voice, droned out a never- 
ending prayer. Often we chatted ; and our conver- 
sations, strewn with unexpected words and ideas, 
helped to make us know and understand this eccentric 
people, lovable despite its faults and its rudimentary 
civilisation. 

From Nagchu to the Tachung Pass, the appear- 
ance of the country is monotonous and devoid of 
picturesqueness : fairly wide plains stretch their long, 
flat outlines between the low mountains ; the soil is 
covered with a short grass, which gives to the whole 
landscape a yellowish tint, except where its uniformity is 
broken by a few patches of snow, a black tent or the 
blue ice of a lake. The surface of the ground, which, 
in the distance, looks level, is, in reality, dented all over 
with protuberances the size of mole-hills having between 
them hollows a foot deep, often full of water or snow. 
This sort of ground is very common in North Tibet 
and is very difficult to march on. On the i ith of 
March, we camped at the southern foot of the Tachang 
La, in the gloomy little valley of Dhuglong, which 
already is outside the territory subject to the Lhasa 
government. Beyond this spot, the country is under 
the authority of the Hortsi Gyupeko, a Tibetan prince 
residing at Pachen, in the valley of the Sog Chu, He 
himsclris under the Chinese Imperial Legate at Lhasa, 
but is absolutely independent of the Debajong, The 
majority of his subjects belong to the &cct of the 
Ponbos, whose religion is to-day regarded as a schismatic 
form of Buddhism, although, in reality, it is quite 
different and much olden 



112 

On the 1 3th of March, we crossed the Bhumcha 
Mountains, the first big mountains since Nagchu, by th^ 
Tachang Pass, 18,000 feet high, the crossing of which 
was made rather difficult by snow and bogs. Beyond, 
at the end of a very wide valley similar to many which 
1 have already described, is the place known as Chu- 
nagkang. From this point, the Chinese geographers 
give two different roads, both leading to Sin ing. 
Our Tibetans swore that they knew of one only, the 
more westernly, which crosses the Kamrong I,a, at 
whose foot we were, and the Tang La. This is 
Perc Hue's road. It is true that, us the latter had not- 
made a topographical survey of it 1 , it would have been 
interesting ami useful to go over it ayain ; but the* 
custom roud, apart from the fact ih.it it lud never been 
covered by a Kuropean, offered this advantage, thai it 
passed nearer the probable source*; of the Mekong, 
which we wished to explore. However, tlu* longyig, 
the men with him, the people of the country ami every- 
body k?iew nothing of the existence of this wad. When 
we questioned them, they gravely listened to our 
explanations, studied the map attentively, reflected at 
length and invariably ended by replying : 

" C/ies gu mti ri (we do not know)/' 

Dutreuil de Rhias had almost resigned himself to 
taking the road to the Tang La, when he saw \\ caravan 
enter a gorge which at first had seemed to him to be too 
narrow for a road to lead through, This was the caravan 
of a young Hutuketu* lama, who was going from lh;m 
to a convent of Dergyeh. We followed in hin tract**, 
despite the protests of the tongyij^ who assured UH 
that this road led not to Sining, but to Tanicnlu, 
Dutreuil de Rhins refused to believe him, fur it seemed 
unlikely that people coming from Lhasa should go 
ao fur out of their way to the north in order to go 

Mncurmttioi* of BuJUlm. 



Cibet us 

to Tasienlu ; but he was soon obliged to modify his 
-"Opinion and yield to the weight of evidence on meeting 
caravans coming from that town or going there. This 
roundabout route is naturally explained by the tact 
that the straight road, which goes through GyumJo, 
Lhari, Shobando and Lhasa and which wa* followed by 
Pere Hue on his return journey, is very bad at :il! 
times and almost impracticable at this season of the 
year. For that matter, in all likelihood, the road which 
Dutreuil de Rhins had determined to take was bound, 
for a certain time, to coincide with that of which be Wii* 
in search. If> however, this hypothesis were not verified, 
if we missed the fork and if the road led us too far 
eastwards, we could always turn to the north. We 
had done more difficult things than that ; but circum- 
stances were destined to make u alter our plans. 

The gorge upon which we had entered wan that 
of the Charong Chu, an affluent of the Chag Chu t 
one of the principal sources of the Sulwen, the others 
being the Nag Chu and the Sog Chu. It is very narrow 
and deep and runs between perpendicular mountains. 
We went where best we could, on the left bank or 
the right, on the mountain-suit 1 or on the ice of the 
river itself* On the iyth of March, we left this gorge* 
and, on the mountains on the left, climbed to the 
plateau of Tsagni, where the chief of a native tribe, the 
Atag Mcma, had pitched hi* tent* He was a I'onlw 
and appeared to us a very decent man, hospitable ami 
obliging. He showed us a paper which Captain Bower 
had given him when passing this way praising him 
for services received at his hands, We thought it; 
well to stop here for three dayn, both to collect in- 
formation concerning the country and to allow our yak* 
to feed and rest, They needed this, for they hutl hud 
a wearying march through the gorge of the Chiwwg 
Chu and had found but a meagre pittance there. 



114 

At our next encampment, near Lake Ngongkar Cho, 
on the 22nd of March, we took leave of the tongyig* 
and the men of Nagchu. We rewarded them generously 
for the trouble which they had taken in coining so tar 
and for all that they had done or could have done to 
make themselves useful and agreeable to us. There was 
no reason for their further presence. In the first place, 
they did not know the district well enough to give UH 
the names of the places or any information concerning 
the surrounding country ; in the second pkicc whereas 
a man like the tongyig of Nagchu would have served 
as an excellent recommendation tor us in an orthodox 
region, he was deprived of all credit in then* heretical 
parts. We could reckon only upon the ^ymp.itby of 
the PonboSj among whom vvv uvre, nor did wr look 
for it in vahu 

On the i^tvl of Maivh, 1 \scnt > au'unijMimi 
by a single interpreter, to pay ,1 viijt tu a uunp 
of Tibetans a few miles from our u-nt, At ibur 
or five hundred pace-*, as usual, an avaluuhr of" 
dogn cium* rushing down upon u\ lurking t'uriou-lv 
showing fierce teeth and rolling blond shut eye*** my 
intrcpreter, who had been telling me how alow; and 
armed with a mere lance, he had killed several wolves 
in the snoww of the Karakoraw, bt'g;n to trcmblv like 
a leaf and trietl to hide bchiiui tu% but in \;ti l lor 
he was much taller and stouter. It was nwugh, hmv* 
ever, to pretend to pick up stones to keep the barking 
brutes at a distance and transform their attack wtu a 
platonic, though noiny demonstatitjiu At ItM, iht? 
Tibetan came out and all the noin* cesrd They 
grcctcil us with respectful cordiality uml lat us to th 
chief of the three tcnts f which conlaihed & gathering iif 
several person**. In the fini pbct* f there were two 
women with their cheeks covered with ///, thyit hid^ou* 
black gla7*c which the TibeUn wotnen u^e to protect 



{Tibet lie 

themselves against the bite of the wind: they received 
"Us with a merry smile which for the moment lit 
up that blackness* One was churning butter ; the 
other, standing before the stone stove, was boiling tea 
in a great pot. A tiny little girl, holding on to her 
sheepskin dress, threw hesitating and timid glances at 
the strangers. Other children, not quite so small, 
looked at us with great round eyes of astonishment and 
stood motionless, with their hands before their half- 
opened mouths. A few trifles which I distributed 
among them changed their surprise into joy and they 
began to laugh silently with all their teeth and all 
their eyes, through their* disordered hair. 

Seated on the ground in a corner was n Ponbo 
luma, with long, grey hair, who went on reading hb 
prayers in a low voice and turning his praying-wheel, 
His attention did not swerve at our entrance and he did 
not even reply to the few short words which 1 addressed 
to him, for the majesty of him with whom he was 
talking did not permit of any sharing of the conversa- 
tion, At last, asking me to sit down, they spread at the 
upper end of the tent a small piece of felt, the best, no 
doubt, that they were able to find : alas, it was very 
much worn and eaten by vermin, but it still served 
to soften the hardness of the soil The five men 
present sat down in their turn and filled their pipes ; 
the women served the tea and conversation began. 
It was full of cordiality and good humour. They 
talked of those strange nations of the west whose 
marvellous inventions come o near witchcraft and 
whose fame, young and vague a yet, but ever 
increasing, has a lively effect upon the simple imagina- 
tions of these nomads lost in their solitary mountains* 
They talked of the recent travellers, of M. Bonvalot, 
of the French Prince, of the <* Captain" (Captain 
Bower), of Mr, Rockhill ; they admired their courage, 



116 Cibct 

their powers of endurance, their generosity, their spirit 
of courtesy and equity. 

" But/* they added, " seeing that among you there 
are so many people bold enough to undertake such long 
journeys, why do you not come oftener ? We would 
receive you with open arms. No doubt, the Lhasa 
government does not look favourably upon you ; but 
we ourselves are not friends either with the people of 
Lhasa. They have overthrown our once powerful 
religion and keep it in a state of inferiority from which 
we are unable to raise it, for we are few ami weak, 
Anything that displeases them is calculated to plca.se us/* 

Then they made a very violent attack upon the 
Dalai Lama and the Debajon^ and jtrred at the 
cowardice and folly of the population, which allowed 
itself to be eaten up by a heap of dea-itfui, ^rerdy and 
hypocritical lamas, who displayed an austere wanner 
in public ami enjoyed themselves in smvt. 

"Ami the ClVmesc?" 1 asked. 

There was a short silence, for the question embarrassed 
them : 

** The Chinese/* said one of them, at KtM, shaking his 
head and clearing out the bowl of Ins pipe 1 , ** are too 
good for the people of Lhasa ; but the am bun of' Lhasa 
18 a great man ; he is our chief ami does us no harm/ 1 

Returning to what they had said before, I declared 
that, in travelling through these parts, we had no slightest 
intention of creating difficulties for the* Lhasa govern- 
ment ; that we were journeying under the protection of 
the Kmperor of China and that we owed the saint' con- 
sideration to all his subjects ; that, tie vert fu'le&n, we 
could not but feel a very lively ami special *ywj>ithy for 
those who had given UK such a good and friendly 
welcome* I insisted on the gratitude which 1 felt 
towards them and 1 ended by asking them for *t guide. 
Two of them immediately offered to accompany UH* The 



trtbct nr 

next morning, just after we had broken up our camp, 
the men came with the children to wish us a prosperous 
journey : 

"Above all," they said, "remember that we shall 
always be pleased to see you and your fellow-country- 
men." 

After crossing the valleys of the l*eh Chu am! the 
Pom Chu, we ascended the narrow por^e of a little 
torrent, the Gema Chu> overtopped by tall, Miowy peaks. 
We followed the slope of the mountain to roach the 
summit of the Sot? (Jcirw La, Jit 6,Hjo fert. The soil, 
which was very much broken and intersected by ravines 
full of snow, made our progress very difficult, The 
camels, especially, proceeded only with the greatest 
difficulty. The camel-driver, seeing an almost flat field 
of snow, took it into his head to lead the camel which 
he held by its leash that way. After a hundred puces 
the thick, soft snow yielded under the weight of the 
huge brute, which sank deeper the more it struggled fo 
extricate itself- Soon nothing was seen of it but its 
head and the tips of its humps. It was impossible to 
clear it and the man could think himself lucky to be 
able to make his way back. The descent of the northern 
slope was no easier and this day of the 25th of March 
may be reckoned as one of the hardest of the journey. 
We encamped beside people of Zachukku, rvtunwjjjj 
from Lhasa. Our cook, who foul a difficulty in lighting 
his fire, went to ask them for sonic. They replied 
that they did not wish to hold any intercourse with 
Europeans. This gave us a good idea of the polite- 
ness of the people of Zachukka ; but we did not then 
think that we should later have to become more closely 
acquainted with them* 

The next day, after descending 2,000 feet in 
than four league^ we came to the hanks of the 
Chu, the most important river that we had yet seen in 



us tCibct 

Tibet It is 135 feet wide. As it was fimcn only on 
the surface to a great enough depth, however, to bear 
the weight of a caravan we were able to make holes in 
the ice to measure the depth of the stream, which is 
under three feet at this time of year. The valley is 
very narrow and gives hardly any flat surface ; it is 
contained within high, snow-capped mountains, which, 
especially on the left bank, are very steep, slushed by 
dark gorges and bristling with pointed tops, rising 4,000 
feet above the river. It is inhabited by the Sogderna 
tribe, which belongs to the Ponbo religion and is under 
the Hortsi Gyapeko, whose tents stood at two days* 
march below our encampment; of the 251(1 of March, 

When we asked some Tibetans who had come to set' 
us the name of the spot where we were, they iave us ;i 
very complicated name ; but an old mun with a rough 
beard and a crabbed look said, curtly ; 

u You don't want to know the name of this place, 
which hits nothing remarkable about it. Better put 
down on your map the name of that confluent just there, 
where you can see that red-washed dtorten. Anyone 
passing this way after you will be able to recognise it* 
It is Wabeh Sunulo." 

Surprised tit this observation on the part of a native, 
we thought Jit first that we were, perhaps, in the presence 
of an agent of the Indian government ; but nor only 
were* we unable to discover anything suspicious either 
in his person or his manner of speaking, but everybody 
seemed to know him as si man of the country. When 
we tried to make him talk, he said that he must go 
home and that he had no time to waste in fine speeches. 
We asked him if he would sell us some yaks to replace 
two of ours which were diseased in their feet, He aul 
yen, if we would go to fetch them and pay him a lot 
of money for them. And the old eccentric turned hto 
back on us and went away, spinning hb praying-wheel 



Utbet 119 

Shortly after came a rather elderly woman,accompanieJ 
' by a very good-looking boy of about fifteen: he had the 
reddish-brown complexion of Raphael's madonnas and 
wore an odd-looking gilt-cardboard helmet. I le executed 
a few gambols and asked us for food, lie told us that 
he was the son of a Ponbo lama who had died leaving 
him alone with his mother and unprovided for. He 
himself was a lama like his father, hut he was too 
young still and the trade did not pay. \\V proposed 
to take him as a guide at a decent salary. His mother 
consented, on condition that he did not stay away too 
long. He accordingly went off with us. The coU 
was still very bitter and the wind was keen. The poor 
boy, who, like many Tibetans, wore no breeches for 
lack of the money to buy them, shivered anil wan 
obliged to fasten his drew round his knees with a string 
so as not to admit too much air. He was very /caloun 
about informing us, He invented names for the 
smallest mountains and, anxious to give us plenty for 
our money, invented them very long: he smiici] to 
think that we measured the price by the yard. 

At less than three miles from our encampment on 
the Sog Chu, we perceived the bifurcation of two nwk 
The one on the left, which was known as the road of 
the Goloks, was evidently the road to Sining 5 the other 
was the road to Tastenlu, but, knowing that it passed 
by the sources of the Mekong, we preferred it to the 
first. The crossing of the huge chain of mountains 
which separates the basin of the Sog Chu from that of 
the Dam Chu is very difficult. On 'the 2Hth of March, 
we went over the steep pans known as the Gyring 
La, at 17,000 feet; on the next day, sifter crowing a 
field of ice at the foot of the Damtao la, we encamped 
at mid-height in three feet of snow. On the joth, 
crossing the pass, our caravan descended the northern 
slope, which was very steep awl thickly covered with 



120 tibet 

snow, in which the yaks sank up to their necks. On 
the following day, we reached the watershed in the pass 
of Nyaka Marbo, at 1 6,250 feet After that, the mountains 
no longer have the rugged and storm-tossed aspect 
which they present on the Sog Chu side. They descend 
with a gentle slope towards the Dam Chu } forming a sort 
of hardly undulated plateau, which is hemmed in, in the 
distance, by flattened hills. The Tao Chu, which is the 
southernmost branch of the sources of the Yangtzekiang, 
here spread its frozen waters to a width sometimes 
exceeding 2,300 feet. Also, the valley of the Dam Chu, 
of which it is the affluent, although farther from the 
watershed than the valley of the Sog Chu, is much higher 
than the latter (15,600 feet, as against 14,750), Look- 
ing backwards, there is a fine view over a long row of 
peaks of the Damtao La Chain, neaks which, on the 
north side, appear to be wrapped from head to toot in a 
mantle of snow, whereas on the south Hide, they have 
only a white cap pulled aver their heads, The country 
ahead is flat and dismal. On the ist of April, while 
a snow-laden fog, which the squalls were unable to 
dispel, hung drearily over the monotonous landscape, 
we reached the first tents of the Dungpa Tibetans, 
This tribe is dependent upon the Nanchcn Gyapo 
(Rgyalpo), a very venerable and laay king who pitches 
his camp in the basin of the Mekong, between Jyerkundo 
and Chamdo, We were now within the territorial 
jurisdiction of the Imperial Legate of Siniag, 

We halted for two days because of the bad weather* 
On the evening of the first day, we saw two or three 
men arrive, armed with matchlocks or lances, They 
remained in the tents of the natives without speaking to 
us* At our departure, they were still there and began 
to follow us at a short distance. We pulled up to aik 
them what they wanted. They replied that they had 
come in search of some lost, or probably stolen yaks ; 



121 

unfortunately, they had failed to find them and were going 
home. In reality, they wanted to know who we were 
and what our plans were* We told them that \ve were 
travelling with the authorisation of the Kmperor and 
under the protection of the amhan of Sinint*. They at 
once showed themselves eager to serve u*. Camping near 
their tents, at Kamrug, we entered into a parley with 
them for the purchase of yaks ; for alreuJy some of ours 
were good for little and it was clear to u i - that not many 
of them would last as far as Sining. But we had nothing 
but gold and the Tibetans wanted silver, for gold does not 
pass current as cash ; it is a commodity which is market- 
able only in the important villages. In every other 
respect, these good people of Kumrtij* wen/ very obliging 
and their leader himself offered to guide us as far as the 
territory of the Gejis, a numerous ;im! powerful tribe, 
he said. The Dungpn are greatly inferior to them* 
They possess no monasteries and this is probably the 
reason why we were not ill-received by them, although 
they are orthodox Buddhists. They also ktvp up pretty 
good relations with their Ponbo neighbours, the 
Sogdema and the Kongkiemn, notwithstanding their 
reciprocal thefts of horses and yaks. The Grjis t who 
are a very thieving tribe, are further off and therefore 
less to be feared* Consequently, the Dungpa, in their 
wide valleys well supplied with grass, could feed their 
herds in peace and prosperity, were it not that, five 
leagues further west, their flat and unprotected country 
is intersected by the famous roud of the Golokft. 
These horsemen with the shaved heads are formidable 
brigands and sometimes come in numerous bands to 
make raids in the district, when ail those who have 
not been warned or have not taken their measures in 
time see their tents overturned and pillaged, their 
children, their young wives, their henta carried off 
without pity and think themselves lucky when they 



122 tltbCt 

arc not themselves killed for attempting an impossible 
resistance. 

On the 6th of April, we crossed the Dam Chu, or 
Muddy River. We were unable to ascertain if its 
name is well-deserved, for the water was frozen; but, 
the wide, flat valley offering only a very slight slope, 
the river divides into seven arms, the most important 
of which measures 260 feet, When the snows melt, 
a sort of great muddy lake forms there to a width of 
some miles. On the banks of this river, three days* 
march up stream, at Damsarchaho > lives the great chief 
of the Dungpas, He occupies a tent, for there arc 
no houses in the district. 

On the 8th of April, at nine o'clock in the morning, 
we hud the satisfaction, in crossing the Xanag Lungrnug 
Lu, to achieve one of the objects which we htul set 
ourselves to accomplish. I'Yom this pass, which is 
16,760 feet high, runs the I,UIU;MUI{ Chu, the mort 
westernly of tne source 1 * of the Mekong, The joys 
of discover)', which arc enough to make any good 
explorer forget the sufferings of a journey, were increased 
two-fold for us by the tact that this humble stream of 
water, now motionless under ice, but soon to flow 
over mountains and plains to Krcnch territory, estab- 
lished an imaginary and yet a real communication 
between ourselves and the motherland of which we 
had heard nothing for HO many months, Bv holding 
one end of this Htream, of which France fwUU the 
other, we felt nearer home ami we ceased to notice 
the rugged desolation of the surrounding scene, the 
gloom of those silent, gaping clefts, the melancholy of 
those hare, red mountains, covered here and there with 
a thin, dull layer of snow. 

The Lungrnug Chu takes the name of the Zmitg Chu 
after itn junction with the Norpa Chu, It* valley, 
generally straitened between steep mountains ami 



123 

inhabited by a few scattered Geji Tibetans, led us to 
*the confluence of the Zagar Chu, starting from which 
the river takes the name of Za Chu, which it retains 
throughout Tibetan territory. Now that the sources of 
the Mekong were clearly settled, Dutreuil de Rhins no 
longer proposed to go lower down the river. It would 
have suited him to go north through the Zagar Chu 
Valley, to seek a passage over the mountains which 
stand at the source of this river and beyond them to 
meet the road to Sining. But the yaks had gone more 
slowly than we had expected and hud not resinted fatigue 
so well UK we had been led to hope. Since leaving 
Nagchu, we had covered on an average not much more 
than six miles a day, allowing for the halts necessary 
both for resting the animals and for astronomical 
observations. At this rate, we should need nearly 
a hundred days to reach Sining by a road which was 
desert almost to the end ; ami we had provisions for 
barely fifty days. On the other hand, in spite of all our 
care to take spare yaks at the rate of one to every three, 
the number of invalids proved to us that, long before 
reaching our destination, we should not have a sound 
beast left. We must therefore procure victuals and 
animals somewhere, without, however, going to Jyer- 
kundo, which would have taken UH mueh too far out of 
our way. Our Dungpa guides hud left us noon after 
crossing the Lungmug l& and none of the inhabitant* of 
the country had consented to take their place. Chance 
made us full in once more with five young wandering 
lamas whom we had already seen a few days earlier 
walking bravely through wind and snow stick in hand and 
sack on back, Natives of the Amdo country and of 
Kansu, they had been to Lhasa to present themselves to 
the Dalai Lama and were now returning home through 
Jyerkundo and the country of the Horkangtxe. Carrying 
ail their goods on their shoulders, clad in thin woollen 



124 

gowns, they walked on, braving the rigours of the 
atmosphere, the asperities and the length of the road, 
sleeping in the open air in one another's arms for warmth, 
living on what was given them for charity or in return 
for a few prayers to ward off the devils ami bud luck. 
They had no reason to congratulate themselves on the 
generosity of the Gejis, who were unbelievers, they suid, 
careless of religion and harsh to poor people, During 
the last three days, they had been given nothing except a 
dead gout, of which they had already eaten half among 
the five of them ; fortunately, thanks to the coldness of 
the temperature, the other half still smelt quite fresh and 
\vould allow them to walk another two days ami a half 
to Tachi C/ompa, where the other Iiunas, their brothers, 
would doubtless replenish their sink. They told us that 
Tachi Gompa, or the Monastery of I'Vlicity, stood on 
the banks of the X;i C'hu, that it numbered nearly ihree 
hundred monks and that, in two or three days, u great 
fair was to be held there. Dutreuil de Khins resolved 
to go to it, hoping to be able to buy what he stood 
in need of. 

Immediately after the confluence of the two torrent % 
the Zanag and the Xagar, the river becomes suddenly 
confined and forms a rapid ; its waters, free for the 
first time and only for a moment, in the deepest part 
of their bed, rush bubbling between two banket of 
ice. The path, which follows the foot of A very steep 
mountain on the right bank, is interrupted by ti 
great rock which overhangs the river. We were 
obliged to pass over the ice -kink, which, at that time, 
attacked by the beginning of the thaw, was very 
narrow. Our men had to unload the animals ana, 
with the greatest caution, to curry the package* by 
hand to the other side of the rock. We tried to 
make the yaks pans one by otic. Bur they were un- 
manageable : they flung themselves against one another, 



Briber 135 

pushed and crowded and, so soon as one of them had 
'extricated itself, it rushed through the narrow passage, 
slipping on the ice and knocking itself against the rock, 
I once again wondered at these animals, which, notwith- 
standing their heavy and clumsy appearance, are, in 
reality, nimble and sure-tooted, tor, in spite of all this 
disorder, none of them fell into the water. In this way, 
we took an hour to cover a distance of u hundred yards. 
At that day's camp, we lost two sheep, poisoned by the 
bad grass which they hud eaten. We were told that 
this was not an uncommon accident. Still, it is curious 
that nothing of the kind happened on the journey to 
either our yaks or our horses. 

Two days later, on the *5th of April, we witnessed 
some natural phenomena that to our eyes seemed almost 
miraculous. The river had thawed and its waters which 
were carrying blocks of ice, fillet! the valley with a dull, 
but loud roar, which was increased by the echoes from 
the rocks. On the slopes of the hills grew a few tufted 
dwarf-willows, poor shrubs scarcely two feet hi^h ; but 
their feeble branches, together with the music of the 
waters, aroused in us both distant memories ami the 
speedy hope of reaching gentler climes. Nevertheless 
nature seemed bent upon contriving contrast** j and 
snow-flakes and hail-stones obliged us once more to turn 
up our collars, to pull our cups over our earn, to tighten 
our belts. The one camel left to us, exhausted with 
cold and fatigue, sorrowing over the death of its last 
companion and despairing of thin ever implacable country, 
through which it had now been travelling for *o Jong 
without finding the long grass which it loved, knelt 
down on the ground and refused to rise again. It was 
at that time the oldest in our service of any of our 
beasts ; it had a year and five clays* campaign behind it, 
had covered nearly two thousand miles and, for seven 
months and six days, had had hardly any grass to eat, 



126 

We pretty frequently met pilgrims going to or from 
Lhasa, Mongols or Tibetans from the Koko Nor, poor 
people who to the direct, hut deserted route preferred 
this long, but inhabited road which passes hy Jyerkundo, 
the country of the Horkangtze and that of the Goloks. 
The Tibetans, generally, carried in their eyes and on 
their brows something that reflected a thinking and 
anxious mind ; whereas on the rude, fiat and almost 
shapeless faces of the Mongols, for the most part 
Khalkas, was depicted a simplicity that came near to 
being the stupidity of the brute. Of the immense 
journey which they had made on foot from Urga to 
Lhasa, a journey of 700 leagues us the crow flics, they 
retained only the names of Sining and the Koko Nor, 
They spoke to us of the Russians, whose traders often 
come to their country; themselves had been to the 
Russian frontier-stations* In the course of this contact 
with Slav civilisation, they had learnt to esteem the 
recent masters of the north for their fine hoots ami their 
good hramiy* This is all that struck their imagination 
in Kuropeun culture, all that they knew of it, nor did 
they feel the smallest desire to know more. The 
smallness of their intellectual needs, while depriving 
them of any idea of raising themselves above their 
present condition, enabled them to be perfectly con- 
tented with it. They had worn out the M>!CN of their 
feet on the dry wastes of Gobi and on the rocks of 
Tibet ; they suffered hunger and cold ; they foil 
oftencst on dead meat and fresh water ; at home they 
were beaten with the great whips of their chiefs, abroad 
despised by the Chinese and the lama* and insulted 
by the Tibetan herdsmen of whom they begged their 
daily pittance ; but, like roaming wolves, they 
liberty in the steppes ami mountains, the 
and serenity of healthy animal* ; ami their life 
sweet to them* 



ttibet 127 

The narrowness of the valley of the Za Chu compels 
;he traveller frequently to cross from one hank to the 
other ; and already the river was difficult to cross* At 
nine o'clock in the morning, that is to say almost at neap 
tide, it measured 95 feet in width, 3 feet in average 
depth and flowed at the rate of 4 feet to the second. 
We had to take the packages that would not resist the 
water from the yaks, which stood too low on their legs, 
and strap them one by one to the saddles of the horses, 
which made u* lose an hour at each of the last two 
crossings. 

On the 1 6th of April, we were approaching Tachi 
Gompa, when two annul men rode up to us and told 
us that the noble lamas wished to see us take another 
road. Dutreuil de Rhins replied by producing his 
Chinese passport, whereupon the two abashed horsemen 
went to the right about* Soon we pitched our camp, at 
an altitude of 14,450 feet, OH the hank of the /A Chu, 
on a platform over a mile long by not much more 
than 300 yards wide* Although we were close to the 
monastery, we could not sec it, as it was hidden by a 
jut of the mountain. The two horsemen returned, this 
time on foot, to tell UH that, as we carried an authorisa- 
tion from Peking, we were free to go where we pleased, 
but that my lords the lamas intended to hold no 
communication with my lords the foreigners, 

In order to try to bring the lamas to a better frame 
of mind, to explain the necessities of our situation to 
them and to assure them of our friendly intentions* 
we sent our interpreter to them with a few present* 
for the decoration of their chapel On reaching the 
gate of the convent, the interpreter found no one to 
apeak to ; he had to perform his meaaage after the 
manner of a herald of old, by proclaiming the object 
of his mission in a loud and audible voice. The lamas 
occupied in singing their office #ang more lustily, $o as 



128 

not to hear ; and the interpreter returned with labour 
lost. 

Dutrsuil de Rh'ms and I went to sec the abode of 
these difficult monks. Its appearance was as picturesque 
as could be wished* Between two approaching pro- 
jections which compress the bed of the river, the 
mountain stands a little way hack, without, however, 
leaving any flat surface: very steep at the summit, it 
descends to the water's edge with an irregular slope, 
broken at intervals. On the other bank rises a high 
wall of rocks. In this nest, the convent of Tachi, whose 
white houses, scattered over the mountain-side according 
to the disposition of the ground, stand out brightly 
against the brick-red of the rocks, lies hidden from the 
eyes of the world, The every-duy road respects its 
solitude; only two very rude paths bring it into com- 
munication with the herd or vulgar men, who, all 
unworthy of attention or esteem, supply the monastery 
with butter, flour, meat, money and with its very monks. 
Every year, it is the object of a pilgrimage for tne people 
of the surrounding districts, who gather from several 
dozens of leagues in every direction to offer the lamas 
their respects and their alms, to attend to their spiritual 
and temporal affairs, to their pleasures and their 
salvation. For it is not only a pilgrimage, but a fiur 
as well. 

We had arrived just at the time of this gathering. 
All round the convent, the sides of the mountain were 
strewn with white or blue tents for the rich and elegant 
and with common black yak-skin tents for the poor* 
The Highlanders had brought the skins of yaks, sheep, 
wild horses, bears, wolves, foxes and lynxes, 
rhubarb, wool and antelope-horns ; the people 
towns and the valleys offered woollen stufiv from ] 
and Jyerkundo, musk, tsamba, salt a few arm* 
copper vases from Derjaryeh. A Hindu, who partook 



129 

quite as much of the vagabond as of the merchant, was 
selling saffron and a few valueless trinkets, such as coral 
beads and artificial pearls. In the court-yard of the 
monastery, beside the chapel, two or three Chinese 
merchants had installed themselves. Two pigs sprawled 
outside their door, grunting and squealing when the 
customers knocked up against them in passing. Inside 
were piles of cottons and of bricks of tea, bags of 
flour, a few rolls of silk, boots, porcelain cups, tobacco 
and a confused heap of rusty iron-ware, gun-barrels, 
hatchets, stew-pots. The faces of the Chinamen, for 
all their gravity and composure, betrayed a certain 
constraint, a mixture of contempt for this trowel of 
an inferior race which surrounded them and of 
anxiety at feeling themselves alone and defenceless 
in the midst of these barbarians, a sudden whim 
on whose part would be enough to change their 
momentary kindliness into violent enmity* However, 
the crowd which thronged in fairly large numbers 
into the narrow valley seemed guy and good-humoured* 
All wore their holiday clothes : dresses of blue or 
red woollen stuff, sometimes, for the women, striped 
with different colours or trimmed with hems in gaudy 
tints. The young men, who hud washed their facet* 
and combed their hair for the occasion, looked proud 
and pretentious, with a silver ring in their left 
ear and a sword adorned with big coral beads passed 
through their belt, and joked and flirted with the young 
women, whose hair, plaited into numberless little tresses, 
was laden with silver coins, pearls and turquoises while 
their fresh red faces, rid of tne ordinary coating of black, 
bore no mark of moral shyness. Here, in tht* mitbt 
of a group, stood two men haggling over a piece of 
business, obstinately bargaining and discussing ; they 
took each other's right hands, hidden in their long 
sleeves, to indicate by a pressure of the fingera the 

9 



130 

price which they offered ; they exchanged remarks with 
the bystanders, who endeavoured to make them come to 
an agreement. There, gamblers were seated, wrapped 
up in their game, now calm and silent, now stamping 
and shouting. Further on, some idlers stood round 
two poor little beggars, who, with their faces covered with 
hideous and grotesque masks, sang and danced freiuiedly 
like people possessed. And, everywhere, pots of chang 
were drunk and numberless cups of tea. 

From time to time, the great round head of a lama 
passed by, with a severe and inquisitorial eye. We 
ourselves moved about freely among the crowd, which 
made way before us out of distrust rather than respect* 
Nevertheless, their looks showed no ill-will, but rather 
curiosity ami, in many cases, a frank astonishment, 
which never seemed to wcur away. And yet the 
Tibetans whom we had met until then on tin* roads 
or seen in their tents had very soon become accustomed 
to the strangeness of our appearance, 1 have often ob- 
served that isolated individuals are much less surprised 
at the sight of a stranger and less struck by his singu- 
larity than arc the same individuals when united in a, 
crowd. In fact, when, among two or three men, there is 
one who is different from the others, they will more easily 
admit the lawfulness of this difference ami will feel less 
entitled to dispute his right not to be like the others ; but, 
when the same man shows himself in the midst of several 
hundreds of people all alike among themselves and 
differing from him alone, his oddity will obviously appear 
opposed to common sense, absurd and inadmissible, 

Unfortunately, we had other things to do than (juivtly 
to look on at what was happening ; we had to procure 
provisions ; and, although everything that we wanted 
was there, it was impossible for u to obtain u single 
thing. The people avoided speaking to u and, when 
they had no choice, told us that the lamas had forbidden 



Wbct 131 

the sale of anything to the foreigners. We tried to come 
to terms, to treat with thenrij but in vain. The Chinese 
merchants themselves, who were more particularly 
obliged by our passport to assist us, coldly and politely 
avoided our entreaties. To infringe the orders of the 
lamas would have injured their trade ; however, wishing 
to run with the hare and hunt with the hounds, they sent 
to our camp, with compliments and fine words, a small 
bag of rice, a piece of butter and a brick of tea. The 
butter was rancid and the tea musty, but the intention 
was the thing and we were grateful to them for it, 

As it was now impossible to curry out Dutreuil dc 
Rhins* original plan, we decided to make for JyerkundOj 
a commercial centre of some importance and the resi- 
dence of two interpreters of the Imperial Legate of 
Sining, who act as consular agents. We were assured 
that we should there be able to procure all that we 
needed. Now Jyerkundo is only fifteen days* march 
from Tachi Gompa and we had supplies left for a 
month. We were therefore able, instead of confining 
ourselves to following the road, to make important 
reconnoitring excursions to right and left in the basin 
of the Upper Mekong, so that the ill-will of the lamus, 
far from diminishing the scientific interest of our explora- 
tion, increased it and seemed to offer no inconvenience 
save that of prolonging our journey. We little thought 
that this was to leacf us to the disaster of Tumbuwdo, 

Dutreuil dc Rhins at first thought of going dnwn 
the Za Chu* But the river, which is deep and contained 
between perpendicular rocks, leaves no practicable passage 
on its banks ; and it is also impossible to follow it along 
the ridge of the mountains, which are too irregular ami 
intersected by too precipitous a neries of ravines. There 
is no way of (going down the Za Chu, below Tachi 
Gompa, except in the winter, on the ice. Dutreuil dc 
Rhins therefore resolved to take the road to Jyerkundo 



132 

which leaves the valley of the river to cross its great 
affluent, the Purdong Chu, and runs to the source of the 
Zch Chu, one of the principal tributaries of the Za Chu. 
By ascending the first of these two rivers to its origin, 
we would have completely solved the problem of the 
sources of the Mekong and fixed the northern boundary 
of its basin. 

On the 2jrd and 24th of April, we marched through 
a country of deep ravines and grassy hills, of which 
the ground had recently thawed and made a puddle of 
water at each step that we took. A chief lama of the 
Zachukkapii, coming from Lhasa, joined us and travelled 
a few leagues with us. He was more amiable than his 
fellow-countrymen whom we had seen at the foot of the 
Sok (icma La. He hiul that yrcat ease of manner ami 
that rather haughty courtesy which characterises the 
grandee in Tibet us elsewhere. I le blamed the conduct 
of his colleagues at Tachi and begged us to fj>ive him the 
pleasure of our company us fur as Xuchukka, Our duty 
UK explorers obliged us to decline this polite offer, by 
accepting which we would no doubt have averted a great 
misfortune, but swerved from our scientific task. 

After climbing the Purdong Chalwa Lit, ;t a height 
of 16,700 feet, we descended abruptly to the bank or 
the river, at 2,000 feet lower, by it steep slope, covered 
with stones, mud ami melt ing snow* The PimUwg 
Chu is an encased torrent, not wide, but deep, with 
troubled and tumultuous wuterw. It can be forded only 
in the morning, when it measures 53 feet across, ij feet 
decn and flows at the rate of j fVrt u second ; at 
fi o clock in the evening, the averse depth is increased 
by iH inches, the width by h or 7 feet and the speed 
by over 3 feet, so that it semis down i,Kr)o cubic feet 
per second instead of 6;jo. Leaving the bulk of the 
caravan ami tightly e<juippcvl, we explored the upper 
twin of the river tor five Jays, from the a6th to the 



Zttbet 133 

30th of April. The valleys are tightly compressed 
between high, steep and sometimes perpendicular mount- 
ains, whose bare, rocky summits seem to have been 
carved by some fanciful sculptor, so strange and com- 
plicated are their shapes. They arc peopled with large 
bears, which the spring was beginning to bring out of 
their caves. We penetrated to the sources themselves, 
in the solitude of the eternal snows, at the foot of an 
insurmountable barrier. 

Resuming our journey on the 2nd of May, we 
entered, the next morning, a gloomy and desolate gorge, 
through which we splashed pitifully until we reached the 
summit of the Zeh La, one of the highest pusses of Eastern 
Tibet (17,120 feet). This is the source of the Zeh Chu. 
We descended into the valley by an almost perpendicular 
slope of 1 60 feet, upon which was heaped an enormous 
mass of snow. The astonished yaks hesitated for a 
moment ; then, taking a sudden resolution, they flung 
themselves down like an avalanche, disappearing in the 
thickness of the snow, grunting and breathing loudly. 
We pitched the tent a little lower, on a spongy soil, 
which, after a few minutes' trampling, was changed into 
a swamp. We woke the next morning trembling \vith 
cold and with stiff legs. We hastened to descend the 
valley, which soon became less wild iiml less cold and 
which remained strikingly picturesque, with the red 
hue of the ground enlivened by the green of the gra*;s 
on the less steep slopes and with its great masses of 
bare, vertical rocks, looking like mighty strongholds of 
1, 600 feet high and more. The necessity for taking 
observations and then the bad weather, the fog and 
the snow, kept us for some days in our camp of the 
5th of May, We consoled ourselves for our inactivity 
by hunting wild geese, which abound in these parts* 

On the loth of May, we halted at the spot where the 
road leaves the valley of the Zeh Chu to make for the 



134: 

basin of the Yangtzekiang and for Jyerkundo, Since 
leaving the Zeh La, we were on the territory of the 
Raki Tibetans, who had shown themselves as unamiablc 
as the Gejis and who had likewise refused to supply 
us with a guide. We had with us only one of those 

Sung clerici vagaries of whom 1 have already spoken. 
e was accompanying us for the sake of having the 
entrails of a sheep which the Moslems refused to touch, 
but he knew the country very little and his usefulness 
was on a level with his wages. Some Tibetans whose 
tents stood near ours came to see us. Dutreuil de 
Rhins made himself very pleasant, indulged all their 
childish curiosity, gave them a few trinkets which 
seemed to please them, flattered them with good words 
and chaffed them with merry jests to encourage them to 
show confidence, It was in vain. To all our requests 
for information they replied in a manner which was both 
circumspect and evasive ; they shuffled, contradicted 
themselves, ate their words ami, if we pressed them too 
hard, took refuge in an apparent stupidity, suddenly 
pretending to be unable to understand us ami ignorant 
of the most elementary things. 

"The chief of the Rakis is a great chief/* we said, 
cc Oh, a great chief! He has many yaks and sheep, 
oh, ever so many ! " 

And their features combined with their accents to 
express ecstatic admiration. 

u And docs he live far from here ? M 
"Over there!" 

And a vague movement of the head smneJ to point 
to the east, 

" How many days' march ii it with yaks ?** 
" Oh, it's fur, very far* It would take five or nix days, 
" If we could see him, we should give him some 
handsome presents and you would have your share of 
them, if you would take UK there/' 



135 

" We do not know the way ; and then we have 
something to do here and we are obliged to go on to 
Jyerkundo." 

" What is the name of the place where your chief 
lives?" 

They hesitated, exchanged glances and ended by 
saying : 

"Pam Jong." 

"But you have just told us that your chief is five 
days' march from here and, from what you and others 
before you have told us, it is twelve days from here to 
Pam Jong/* 

"Just so. Twelve days going slowly and five days 
going fast, with a good horse," 

"A moment ago, you showed us the east a<* the 
direction in which your chief lives, whereas Pam Jong is 
on the south* Besides, Pam Jong is the residence not 
of your special chief, but of the Nanchen Gyapo, who 
is the King of the Dungpa and the Gejis as well UN 
of the Rakis." 

"The foreign lord knows everything. The Nanchen 
Gyapo is the chief of the Rakis," 

It was impossible to get anything out of them or to 
convince them of their inconsistencies. They opened 
wide, stupid eyes at every word of our interpreter and 
declared that he spoke the Lhasa dialect, which they did 
not understand, Dutreuil de Rhins broke oft the 
conversation and sent for tea. He asked them if they 
liked sugar and, on their replying in the affirmative, 
gave them some lumps. But they had never seen white 
sugar and its colour frightened them. He atc k a lump 
himself to reassure them ; they persisted in refusing it j 
they had too much distrust or everything that came 
from Europe, too great a prejudice against the powerful 
witchcraft and subtle poisons of the foreigners, enemies 
of Buddha and tools of the evil one. This distrust 



136 

and prejudice are, in a certain measure, natural among 
half-savage herdsmen, isolated in their remote retreats ; 
but they are also carefully fostered and increased by the 
lamas, who are jealous of holding undivided sway over 
the minds of the people who feed them, The lamas, in 
fact, teach that we are the soldiers of the Spirit of Evil, 
who are to invade the whole earth, glorifying falsehood 
and sin, until the day when Buddha himself, alive in the 
person of the Dalai Lama, shall arise, gird on his sword 
and put his foot in the stirrup for the destruction of his 
enemies and the triumph of his religion. Although a 
certain number of the less narrow-minded lamas do not 
indulge in this trash, the anxious and intolerant ignorance 
of the remainder has only to spread the legends in order 
to bring about the most grievous consequences, Hud 
they been left to themselves, these* wild highhuuicrs would 
have been more tractable, for they are not bad at bottom ; 
but, when the fear of the despotic and mischief-making 
authorities in added to their own natural distrust, they 
become impossible to handle. Dutrcuil de Rhins told 
me that he had found it easier to get on with the savages 
of Africa* who are given to sudden and capricious fits of 
violence, but who arc less obstinate in their suspicions 
and less resolute in their ill-will. 

We dispensed with the aid of our neighbours to go 
and explore the course of the Zeh Chu below where we 
were, After five hours' march, we were stopped by 
enormous perpendicular rocks, through which the river 
forces a narrow passage and flows swift and deep and 
encumbered with great blocks of stone. There was 
absolutely no means of scaline the mountain, Dutreuil 
de Rhins, in order to see if it was possible to follow 
the bed of the river itself, bravely urged his mount late 
the roaring water. The horse, which suddenly plunged 
in up to the neck and struck its nostrils against a rock, 
was nearly carried away with its rider. Fortunately, w* 



Hibct 137 

escaped with the fright and we rode a long way into the 
mountains in order to try to circumvent the obstacle* 
We camped at the top of a pass, at exactly the height of 
Mont Blanc, on the way to Chamdo, and the wind over- 
threw our encampment. The next tiny, we succeeded 
in reaching the Zeh Chu again through the deep ^orge of 
a torrent. There, an extraordinary spectacle awuiled us, 
Above and below us ran the river, squeezed between 
two walls of rocks several hundred feet high and 
apparently quite vertical. It looked as though the 
mountain had been suwn open, \Ve were obliged to 
throw our heads right back to see a thin strip of sky, on 
which the rocky ridges outlined their grey hce-work. 
This is continued for I know not how many miles with 
windings in every direction. There is not the smallest 
ledge on the walls to afford a foothold. We were 
obliged to turn back. On the brink of the torrent 
and close to the confluence, we saw, for the first time 
since leaving Chcrchcn, some real small trees, willows 
six or seven feet high* This was the lowest point that 
we had observed for a long timer 13,^70 teet 

On the 1 4th of May, we returned to join the 
bulk of our caravan, It was cold and snow was falling 
thickly. Dutreuil de Rhins, wanting a cup of tea* went 
to a tent on the roadside to ask for fire* Just as the 
Russian, Razoumoff, was about to raise the door-curtain^ 
a Tibetan rushed at us, flinging stones at us and 
shouting to us not to go in. As other men were 
approaching, threatening us and uttering cries which we 
did not understand, iXitreuil de Rhin% to intimidate 
them, ordered Ra'/oumoflf to fire a blank cartridge into 
the air. The Tibetans kept buck and RarotimofF 
entered the tent and came out at once with some live 
embers which he had taken from the hearth. He told us 
that there was no one in the tent except u little bleating 
lamb and a sick man lying on the ground, groaning 



138 Uibet 

and giving out a fetid smell. We now knew why the 
Tibetans had tried to keep us away ; for it is one of 
their customs never to enter a tent which contains a sick 
man whose condition is beyond hope. Any violation of 
this rule never fails to bring groat misfortunes and they 
are always careful to shut up with the dying man a 
young lamb, to which they ascribe the power of warding 
off bud luck. However, we withdrew to a couple of 
hundred paces and quietly made our tea and dried our 
feet at the fire, while the Tibetans watched us from a 
distance. 

After rejoining our caravan, we resumed our journey 
to Jyerkundo. Going through very large anil almost 
level valleys and over low hills, we passed by the Poroka 
La to the basin of the Yangt/,ekiang, or Blue River, 
which the Tibetans cull the I)o GUI and the Chinese 
the Tungt'mgho. The comparatively numerous inhabi- 
tants of these valleys are rich in herds. They employ 
these in order to carry on a lucrative trade with pulsing 
caravans by exchanging fresh yaks for tired and worn- 
out yaks at the rate of one to two or three, according to 
their condition* When the tired beasts have browsed 
placidly for a few weeks and recovered a fairly good 
appearance, they arc passed on again at the same price 
to other caravans. At our request, they brought us 
five beasts, three of which appeared to have been 
recently acquired and were in a very hud state. 
Their owners, nevertheless, praised them to the nicies, 
asking their pick of three of ours for each of them, 
and explained to us that they were making a very 
bad bargain, for our animals were sure to die within 
twenty-four hours, Upon our refusal, they went off 
and then came back, lit a fire, produced a stew- 
pan, tea and tsamba ami, while lunching to protect 
themselves against the pricks of the stomach, reopened 
the negotiations. Hours elapsed, during which they 



Uibet 139 

displayed all the resources of their artful and crafty 
minds in order to induce us to buy chalk for cheese. 
They gave way regretfully and then ate their words, 
pretending to misunderstand our proposals and to 
confuse the yaks one with the other. At last, having 
exhausted their provision of tea, of tsamba, of craft and 
of patience, they were contented to take a small profit 
instead of a large one. We left our worst four beasts 
with them in exchange for their best two. The knaves, 
pretending to be hustled in the hurry of departure, tried 
to take away the good yaks and to leave us the bad 
ones; but they reckoned without their host and gained 
nothing by their trick but shame, 

On the 2 ist of May, we made the ascent of the 
Serkiem La, behind which lies Jyerkundo. It is a 
mountain consisting of terraces rising one above the 
other. When the panting, perspiring traveller has 
climbed a very steep slope and rejoices at having 
finished his labours for the day, he perceives that he 
has another similar slope above his head* He moderates 
his joy, takes fresh courage anil resumes the ascent, 
We camped on the fifth floor. We had just settled 
down, when we saw two Chinamen puss on foot carrying 
a few pieces of clothing on their backs. They were 
two merchants who had had their animals stolen by the 
Tibetans during the night and who were returning to 
Jyerkundo in this sorry state to lodge a complaint with 
the agent of the Imperial Legate. They cherished no 
illusions as to the pktonic character of this step ; but 
they had to go back, in any case, to procure fresh 
beasts, 

The next day, after climbing the sixth and lant 
storey, we were descending by a winding path like a 
balcony contrived in the perpendicular side of the 
mountain and hung over a deep precipice, when 
suddenly, at a bend in the way, we suw before us, 



140 Uibet 

planted on the top of a rock, the square buildings of a 
monastery, with its red, blue and yellow-striped temple, 
and, lower down, clinging to the slope of the mountain, 
the white houses of a little Tibetan village. This was 
Jyerkundo. The bottom of the valley is at an altitude 
of only 12,460 feet : in a few hours we had gone 
down 3,600 feet. 

Meanwhile, we had sent our interpreter on ahead to 
present our passport to the Chinese agent and to beg 
him to have a house placed at our disposal during the 
time which we would need to recruit our caravan. It 
was raining, a phenomenon which we had not observed 
for a whole year, and the worn felt of our tent was no 
longer water-tight, The road had led us to the bunk of 
a modest river which flows to the foot of the village and 
beyond. Over it was built- Jin unwonted luxury- a 
shelving bridge, fitted with hand-rials, a sort of porch 
and u staircase that led up to it. It looked very 
picturesque ; but the horses energetically refuse*! to pass 
over this unknown machine and dashed into the water^ 
which, for that matter, led to no inconvenience. Our 
interpreter was waiting for us on the other side, having 
accomplished his mission, The results were not brilliant. 
On his arrival, the inhabitants hud thrown stones at him 
and replied to his questions by an obstinate silence or 
derisive laughter ; and it was not without much beating 
about the bush that he at last succeeded in finding the 
abode of the twigf/wt Pit Lao Yeh. The latter received 
him politely and agreed to procure us a house ; hut 
the superior of the monastery interfered, forbade the 
population, upon pain of a tine and bastinado, to let 
us a house, to sell us anything whatsoever or even to 
speak to us and exacted that we should vacate the plttctf 
within twenty-four hours. After fixing our camp at two 
hundred paces from the village, we set out forthwith to 
ask the tungchen for explanations. We found him 



ICibct 141 

waiting for us in his doorway, which was reached by 
three uneven and unhewn stone steps. Beyond stretcheu 
a narrow passage in which played a little monkey from 
the forests of Nyarong ; on the right stood the wall of 
the next house and on the left a small barn, serving as a 
stable, with barely room for two horses. At the end of 
the passage, a staircase made of rough, knotty wood led 
to a sort of antechamber on the first floor, with doors 
opening upon one or two rooms and a larger one 
leading to the private chapel. We climbed up a stair- 
way on the right consisting of a few steps ending 1 in a 
very narrow and very dark apartment ; turned to the 
right, feeling our way along the walk as we went ; and, 
going down two steps, with our backs bent so as not 
to knock our heads against the door-frame, entered a 
damp room, badly lit by a small window with paper 
panes looking on the passage* A heavy smell of must, 
of fusty air and of rancid butter came from it The 
floor was of beaten earth and unearpeted. The furniture 
consisted of two or three chests ami stools* At the buck, 
according to the Chinese custom, stood a wide stone 

Clatform, covered with felt, with, in the middle, a 
)w tea-table. This was the reception-room of the 
representative of His High Excellency the Imperial 
Legate. 

Our host was very simply but tolerably cleanly dad 
in the Chinese fashion ; only, his mtikoutsv was of Tibetan 
red wool. In his hand, he held a string of Buddhist 
beads, which was intended, as was a little sacred st attic 
conspicuously placed on a bracket, to give the people a 
lofty idea of his piety and to ingratiate himself with 
them* Later, it became clear to us that religion did not 
fill a great place in his heart and served him only us a 
political mask, His tull stature and large nose dis- 
tinguished him from the everyduy Chinese type* Mis 
gait was slow, as were his speech, his mensural gestures 



142 

and movements, his vague and somewhat dull glance ; 
his thin lips hardly opened when he spoke. His person 
and his physiognomy gave the impression of a reflective, 
prudent, weak man, crafty by necessity rather than by 
character, who felt ill at ease in a part that laid upon 
him greater responsibilities than he had the personal 
authority to face, of a man who must suffer because his 
honorary and pecuniary position was not commensurate 
with the difficulty and delicacy of the task that devolved 
upon him. He told us how happy he was to receive 
guests so highly and strongly recommended by the 
imperial government. The mere sight of us would 
have sufficed to inspire him with the keenest sympathy 
for us and this feeling was still further increased by the 
fact that he knew the bonds of close friendship that 
united cur two #reat countries, I'Yanee and China 
(us a mutter of fact, he knew nothing about them ami 
suiil this at all hu/ards in order to curry favour with 
us). Moreover, he had already learnt to value the 
Europeans in the person of Mr, Koekhill, of whom 
he plumed himself upon being the intimate friend, 
for he had hud the pleasure of travelling for several 
days in his company. He placed himself entirely at 
our disposal and assured us that we could rely upon 
his complete devotion. If it depended only on himself, 
all our desires would be immediately satisfied; but, to 
his great regret, he was but one man in the midst of 
ignorant and obstinate barbarians, who distrust the 
Europeans because they do not know them. The lama, 
their chief, was a greatly venerated and all-powerful 
personage, over whom he hud no authority, It did 
not, alas, behove a modest tungehen to revoke orders 
which a chief lama had given 1 

Dutreuil de Rhins replied curtly that he was {going 
to stay a fortnight, that he meant to have provision* 
and animate and that, if the chief lama had anything 



Ift&et 143 

to say, he would go and pull his ears for him. Fright 
suddenly enlivened the Chinaman's ordinarily impassive 
face : 

" No scenes, I entreat you, no scenes ! You could 
not wish to place me, your friend, in a position of such 
cruel embarrassment. Reflect that I could not answer 
for what might happen. Really, I am not the master 
here; I cannot give a single order. The chief kma does 
as he pleases. He does not even receive me and does 
not condescend to come to see me.* How then could 
I interfere with him ? When Mr, Rockhill came, they 
tried to harm him and he was obliged to go away secretly 
under cover of the night Still, if you will be reasonable, 
there will be a way of coming to an understanding. 
There are some Chinese merchants here who are subject 
to my authority. They shall sell you flour, rice, tea, the 
material for a tent. A certain number of the natives 
owe me taxes and forced labour : I will call upon them 
to supply me with beasts and barley, which I will pass on 
to you. As you are here by command of the Emperor, 
on imperial territory, no one can object to your stay, 
provided you do not live in a house. On this last point 
we shall obtain no concession, I would with all my 
heart give up my own dwelling to you, were that 
possible ; but 1 am only a tenant and, if I entertained 
you here, I should get the landlord into trouble.' 1 

Pu Lao Ych thought himself a sly politician to lower 
himself in order to lower our pretensions, to take credit 
to himself for good-will, good offices, devotion towards 
us, while throwing the responsibility for all the difficulties 
on the native leaders. It was the same artifice as on the 
Nam Cho and, here and there, the thread with which the 
trick was patched up was visible to the nuked eye, We 
talked of the general situation of the country, Pu Lao 

* Thin wan lie. The chief Uuwu or rather the tthtuittQ of Jyerkiwtta 
comes to ee the tungchen whenever there m any huaincHH to 



M4 ttfbet 

Yeh thought this a good opportunity to retrieve himself 
in our eyes. He explained to us that the Tibetans of 
this district were very turbulent and divided into a large 
number of small cantons of which the chiefs were inde- 
pendent of one another and none too obedient to the 
Nanchen Gyapo, their nominal prince. Thefts of cattle, 
raidSj armed attacks were constantly and repeatedly 
taking place, He was incessantly obliged to interfere 
in order to allay quarrels, settle differences, prevent 
conflicts. Although this was an arduous task, the more 
so as he had no soldiers at his disposal, he performed it 
fairly successfully, thanks to the authority which he 
derived from his capacity as representative of the 
Imperial Legate, whose name was everywhere feared 
and respected ; thanks also to the personal influence 
which he himself hud been able to acquire with the 
native chiefs, who were very powerful personages in 
the eyes of the Tibetans, although very insignificant in 
those of the Chinese, They were grateful to him for 
the generally successful efforts which he made to pre- 
serve peace anil recognised so thoroughly the useful 
part which he played that they had sent a petition to 
the Imperial Legate, begging him not to recall Pu I*ao 
Yeh and promising to increase his salary, The worthy 
man spoke with conviction and with a self-complacent 
leisureliness, forgetting that he was contradicting him- 
self- His vanity compromised his diplomacy, fn fact, 
he now overpraised himself as greatly as he had slandered 
himself before. We soon had a first proof of this. One 
of our yaks was stolen during the night and the enquiry 
opened at our request by the tungchen was without 
result 

Pu Lao Yeh had a colleague of inferior rank to 
himself and of an entirely different character, called Li 
Lao Yeh, He was short, he had a small face hideously 
pitted with the small-pox, a small, flat nose, small, narrow 



TEtbet 145 

and very bright eyes. His movements were brisk, 
his gait decided, his expression gay, his voice hoarse 
and loud. Pu was the diplomatist, Li the soldier. He 
was often with a sword in his belt and a horse between 
his legs. Whenever there was a bad business anywhere, 
at Pam Jong, in Zachukka, on the Nyam Cho, among 
the Gejis or elsewhere, he set off to reconcile the 
different interests, to calm the excited passions, to instil 
sense into the stupid and heart into the wise, negotiating, 
promising, threatening, always ready to draw his sword 
if need be. Prudent, nevertheless, he knew that soft 
words are better than hard blows. He came up to us 
with outstretched hands, pressed ours vigorously and 
cordially, made us sit down on a plain bench in an 
absolutely bare room and gave us buttered tea and 
indifferently savoury pipes : 

"I have not much to offer you/* he said, "but what 
I have I offer with all my heart. Here, you see, we 
are not in China ; Tibet is a savage country, where 
ceremony is almost impossible. However, since you 
started on your travels you must have known worse 
times: it is not always pleasant, eh?'* And, noisily 
laughing his hoarse laugh, showing his yellow teeth and 
slapping his thigh, "I know all about it,'* he continued, 
" I, who am always travelling over hill and dale. One 
has rough times in these horrible mountains and among 
this race of knaves, all obstinate as mules. I admire 
you for venturing to come from so far and for resisting 
vso many difficulties. Look here ! You are brave men 
and, if I go to Sining soon, I should like to go with 
you ; I should feel safer/' 

To-day, this sentence has a sad and ironical sound. 

Meanwhile, thanks to our two tungchens, we actively 
pushed on our preparations. We changed our gold at 
the rate of one pound of gold to fifteen of silver, a very 
bad exchange in itself, but excellent considering the 

10 



country which we were in ; we chose fresh yaks ; our 
men repaired the pack-saddles ; tailors sewed up the new 
tent ; our barley was grilled in huge pots and the grilled 
grains were ground to make tsamba ; we got together 
white flour, rice, butter and tea. As for the sheep, we 
could not find as many as we wanted and they cost very 
dear, averaging four rupees apiece. Pu Lao Ych advised 
us to procure them at Labung Gompa, where one of his 
friends was the superior. There was good pasture-land 
in the neighbourhood and sheep cost only from two 
and a-half to three rupees. We wanted but little more : 
a few tools, some brandy in case of sickness. I went to 
sec the Chinese merchants who lived right in the middle 
of Jycrkundo and availed myself of the opportunity to 
sec the place. Between our tent and the main village 
stood a few lonely houses, inhabited by poor creatures, 
wretchedly ill-clad and following some despised trade, 
such as that of the blacksmith. Their children brought 
us dried cow and horse-dung for fuel, in return for a 
slight payment. Two of them one day proposed that 
we should buy their squalid little persons for a few 
rupees : 

" It would please mamma,*' they said. 

A little path leads up from the river awl is used 
by women who walk laboriously with their backs bent 
under a heavy barrel full of water : the bottom of the 
barrel rests on the small of the back and the top is 
fastened with ropes or straps which the woman holds 
in her hand. At the edge of the river, some men 
had fitted up a shooting-range, having us in view, 
perhaps* They were fairly good marksmen, so long as 
they had a rest for their guns and leisure for taking 
aim, and I noticed that their muskets did not carry 
straight beyond 130 to 160 yards. The entrance to 
the village is adorned with a very modest chorten and 
mani, Next comes a lane a little over 200 yards long 



147 

and forming two very pronounced bends. It is so 
narrow that two horses are not always able to pass 
through it abreast and is Hned with sullen walls pierced 
here and there with little embrasures which seem to 
distrust the passer-by. In all, Jyerkundo may perhaps 
contain eighty houses, sheltering five hundred inhabitants, 
including fifteen Mongols and twenty or thirty Chinese. 
The remainder of the canton numbers possibly as many 
more inhabitants, housed in some hundred tents and 
making a sum total of one thousand laymen. The 
monastery, which we were not allowed to approach, is 
famed for its wealth and contains ut least three hundred 
lamas in permanent residence. The superior is a very 
great religious person, for he has several other convents 
under his authority, with about three thousand monks. 

In the middle of the village, the little street widens 
out to form a tiny square, in which a few morose old 
men, in the company of some lean, snappish, mangy 
dogs, sit warming their aches in the sun and catching 
their fleas. The house occupied by the Chinese merchants 
stands in this square. I found five or six of them in 
a large, smoky room, seated on chests and stools and 
pulling at their hubble-bubbles. They were from Chensi 
and represented houses at Tasienlu. They exchange 
cottons, flour, tea, vinegar, brandy, tobacco, porcelain, 
copper and hardware for furs, yak and sheep-skins, 
musk, gold-dust, stag-horns, rhubarb and wool. They 
were fairly satisfied with their little trade : 

(< We sell all this very cheaply and it is worth less 
still/' they said, showing me their wares, a collection of 
the very worst articles produced by the Middle 
Kingdom, "but it is good enough for these penniless 
barbarians. They have never seen anything better and 
they are quite contented. There are no Yangjens 7 here 
to disgust them with it. As we are alone, without 

* European*. 



us IClbet 

competitors, we buy and sell pretty well at our own 
prices* Certainly, the Tibetans are greedy and bargain 
shamelessly ; but at bottom they know nothing of trade. 
We profit by this and, although we are sometimes 
beaten, robbed and held to ransom by these rogues, 
we always come off to the good," 

Their language was not quite so explicit as the above, 
but amounted to it ; and it was fine to see the proud 
disdain with which they spoke of those coarse Tibetans, 
of that tribe which was there for them to exploit and 
fleece to their hearts 7 content. 

While completing our preparations, we took care to 
collect information respecting the numerous roads which, 
starting from Mongolia, from Sining, from Lhabrang 
Gompa, from Songpanting, from Tasienlu, from Charndo 
and Batang, from Lhasa, all meet at Jyerkundo and 
give a real vStrategic and commercial importance to 
this place of inconsiderable size. We ascertained that 
there were four roads leading to Sining for us to 
choose from* One goes through Tun, in Tsaidam 
Mongolia ; the second passes between the great lakes 
of Kyaring Cho and Ngoring Cho ; a thin! goes north- 
cast, in a straight line, to the east of those hikes ; and 
the fourth and last crosses the Yellow River three times, 
at Archung, the residence of the King of the Goloks/ 
Rircha Gompa and Kueiti. The first is, at the same 
time, the longest and the easiest : it is the only one 
followed by the Chinese officials ami the merchants, the 
only one that is safe ; but it had already been explored 
by several travellers, including, among others, Pr/evulsky 
and Mr, RockhilL Although we had covered more than 
two hundred leagues since leaving Nagohukka, through 
unexplored country, rugged mountains and a still more 
rugged population, and although these travels, added 
to the long and irksome marches patiently pursued 

* Golok mean* hud head ; cf, 



mbet 149 

during the past three years, might perhaps have 
entitled us to avoid new labours, new fatigues and new 
dangers, nevertheless Dutreuil cle Rhins, whose ardour 
for knowledge made him indifferent to every difficulty 
and every danger, resolutely struck the too well-known 
Tsaidam road from his programme. He rejected the 
fourth road for opposite reasons. It has never been 
studied and is only partly marked on the maps, but 
Dutreuil dc Rhins was uncertain whether the Ma Chu 
was everywhere fordablc at this season, while he was 
sure that the Goloks would not allow us to pass 
without plundering us, even if they did not massacre us. 
There remained the second and third roads. The 
former, which coincided for the greater part of the way 
with the direct road from Lhasa to Sining, brought us 
as near as possible to our original plan and allowed us to 
verify the supposition which makes the course of the 
Ma Chu pass through Lakes Kynring and Ngoring. The 
other had the two-fold advantage of shortness and new- 
ness, for it was marked on none of the maps and was 
mentioned only in the vaguest manner in the Chinese 
geography. Moreover, nothing prevented us s if we 
thought fit, from pushing on to the lakes on our way* 
No doubt, this road went very close to the country 
of the Goloks, whose hordes often crossed it ; but the 
other road was almost as dangerous* Besides, an ex- 
plorer who has no faith in his star and dare not defy 
fate would do better to stay at home in his dressing- 
gown, with his feet on the fender* In a word, Dutreuil 
de Rhins decided in favour of the shortest road, which is 
sometimes followed by the special couriers of the Chinese 
administration, who, with two horses, cover the distance 
of over 500 miles between Jyerkundo and Sining in 
eighteen days* 



CHAPTER IV 

FROM JYERKUNDO TO SINING DEATH OF DUTRKUU 
DK RUINS 

The village of TumbunuloOur caravan is attacked and pillaged by 
Tibetans and Dutreuil ck Khins killedA usek'SH combat The 
convent of Labug Inks our part ngainst the people of Ttimbumilo 
Intervention of tlie Chinese ngenl I leiive for Sinin#; a dwsrteti 
ami unexplored country; the Golok bmiits; the tipper Yellow 
River Our provisions fail The Kolu> Nor; Toitylwr Sitting; the 
Imperial Lejjatu; our baj&'ntfe is restored to us "The monastery of 
Skulumi* 

ON the ist of June 1894, we set out at the first gleam 
of dawn, happy to leave this inhospitable place, to know 
that the caravan which we were now leading would be 
our last and to feel the object so long dreamt-of and 
longed-for almost within reach of our hands, Pu I^ao 
Yeh went with us for a very short way and took leave of 
us with his excuses at not being able to go further, as he 
was detained by a very urgent piece of business, None 
of his servants was free and the little monk who had 
come with us as far as Jyerkundo had deserted at the 
sight of the reception which his great brother had given 
us, We were therefore without a guide, a matter which 
gave Dutreuil de Rhins hardly any concern. This time 
he was wrong. The tracks of the road were lot in 
grassy bogs and he missed his way and wenr up a valley 
instead of crossing it. Being thus obliged to make a 
considerable circuit, he was unable to camp that same 

150 



tttbet 151 

day at Tumbumdo and had to halt half-way. One of 
the ancients might have believed that a hostile god was 
contriving everything to lead him to the spot and time 
at which his evil destiny awaited him. 

On the next day, our new caravan was greatly tried 
by the difficulty of the road, which climbed or descended 
steep slopes and passed through rocky ground and bogs 
in turns. Several of our yaks fell by the road. After 
seven hours 1 march, we were approaching Tumbumdo 
when rain began to fall, lightly at first and then extremely 
heavily. Our clothes were soon soaked through and 
Dutreuil do Rhins, who complained of acute pains in the 
shoulders, hurried on to find shelter in the village, On 
our arrival, we found all the doors closed and no one 
outside. In answer to our summons, two men appeared 
and told us that there was no room in the houses* A* 
the valley was very narrow and the few places where the 
incline was not too steep seemed to be covered with 
crops, we asked them to show us a place where we could 
pitch our tent. They answered with careless insolence : 

"Go down the valley ; you'll find a place there.*' 

We saw a walled enclosure surrounding a rather 
large space of empty ground with an unoccupied shed. 
It was a cattle-enclosure which was act being used at 
the time, as the herds had been sent to the pastures for 
the summer, 

" Let us camp in that yard which you are not using/* 
said Dutreuil de Rhins. * c We will pay you/ 1 

"The owner is away/* replied the owner himself 
" and has taken the key with him.*' 

" Nonsense ! " retorted Dutreuil cle Rhins, bluntly, 
losing patience. " I can't remain in the rain like this. 
Open that gate at once/' 

The man went away grumbling and called his 
daughter, who came with the key and took off the 
padlock. There was nothing inside except a little fuel : 



152 

"Leave that there," I said to the owner, "we shall 
want it. Here ! Here are two rupees and, before we 
go, we will pay you for the use of the enclosure." 

u Ah, you are people who know how to talk ! If 
you want anything, just come and tell us : we will 
supply you. M 

And, in fact, a real zeal to serve us followed upon 
the ill-will shown at the start. They brought us water, 
straw, a lump of butter. A boy of about sixteen 
appointed himself our scullion and devoted himself 
fervently to his chance employment. The rain stopped 
and a few people came to see us. Dutreuil de Khins 
produced the Tibetan letter which Pu Lao Yeh had 
given him and asked if anyone knew how to read. The 
young scullion offered his services and read the docu- 
ment to those standing around. It was a summarised 
translation of our Chinese passport, with a special ami 
urgent recommendation, in the name of His Excellency 
the Imperial Legate, that they should not steal our 
horses, nor our yaks, nor anything that was ours* 

"Di tibo ri (Very good, excellent as the thumb 
compared with the fingers)," said the Tibetans, raising 
their thumbs in the air to mark the liveliness of their 
approval* 

All this smacked a little of hypocrisy and it would 
have been prudent not to linger. That same day, a 
dorgha came from Jyerkundo on behalf of Pu Lao Yeh* 
A dorgha is the name in Tibet, as in Turkestan and 
Mongolia, of a man who combines the duties of a 
policeman and a courier and who, in a general way, 
is the errand-porter and factotum of an official of any 
kind. This one, who was called Tiso, wore his hair 
shaved, for he was a Golok by birth. This ex-brigand 
and son of a brigand had settled down, had married a 
Taorongpa wife and, changing his trade with his country^ 
had become a policeman in the Chinese service; but he 



Hfbet 153 

was careful to keep his shaven head, a sign of kinship 
with the Ma Chu bandits which might he valuable on 
occasion. He squinted in a burlesque fashion, grinned 
and laughed incessantly, always wore a hurried and 
excited air, spoke quickly, fluently and noisily, was fond 
of giving advice when he was not asked for it and 
boasted readily. He told us that he had been charged 
by Pu Lao Yeh to assist us in making our purchases 
at Labug Gompa ; that he had much influence in the 
country; that he was a particular friend of the chief 
lama's ; that he felt a great sympathy for us ; that he 
would serve us zealously and hoped that we should 
reward him with our customary generosity ; that, if we 
started on the next day, he would have the pleasure of 
going with us ; that for the moment he was very busy 
and begged for permission to leave us until the morrow, 
And he went off. 

On the following day, having risen before daybreak, 
I was giving instructions to prepare for our departure, 
when Dutreuil de Rhins came out and, seeing the sky 
covered with black and lowering clouds, gave the order 
to remain. He told Razoumoff to occupy his day in 
making the men practise their shooting, which had 
been neglected during the journey. I myself made an 
excursion up the torrent on whose right bank Turn- 
bumdo stands. This is the Deng Chu, a little affluent 
of the big river, the Do Chu, a glimpse of whose valley 
was seen from our encampment, I passed a village 
whose inhabitants kept fiercely aloof. The few people 
whom I was able to accost answered my questions in 
a curt, dry and evasive manner When I returned, I 
had a vague and confused feeling that thing* might 
go badly. Just then, I saw Razoumoff, knowing that 
Dutreuil de Rhins could not see him, indulge in one of 
ht8 ordinary eccentricities. He was showing off before 
some Tibetans, ostentatiously directing our men's drill 



154 ttibet 

and grotesquely mimicking their awkward movements. 
I put an end to this scene, which had the two-fold draw- 
back of making the Tibetans think that perhaps our 
intentions were not strictly peaceful and of showing 
them that our men did not know how to handle their 
weapons. 

The sky seemed to brighten a little and Dutreuil de 
Rhins spoke of breaking up camp in the afternoon. 
But he changed his mind : 

" Bah ! " he said. cc Why risk wetting everything 
and spoiling everything for the sake of going three or 
four miles r It's not worth while." 

For that matter, the rain soon began to come down 
and flooded us in our tent, However, Dutreuil de 
Rhins fixed the start for three o'clock on the next 
morning, whatever the weather might be. 

We had just fallen asleep, when they came to tell us 
that two horses had disappeared. Shortly after nightfall, 
a heavy shower had driven our sentry to take shelter for 
a few minutes in the shed and, when he came out to go 
his rounds, the two animals were missing. I was able by 
the light of a lantern to follow tracks of horse-shoes, 
accompanied by the tracks of Tibetan boots, until where 
they were lost in the stones on the ground. The first 
tracks were those of our horses, for the Tibetan horses 
are never shod; and the others were certainly those of 
a native, for none of our men wore those boots* Besides^ 
the tracks were all equally fresh and, as those of the 
Tibetans were always evenly beside those of our beasts, 
it was evident that the latter had been let! away by the 
former. The theft was therefore duly established and 
there was no doubt but that it had been committed 
by a man acquainted with our habits who had taken his 
measures in consequence, possibly by the over-jealous 
scullion, Nevertheless, at peep of day, we ent two 
armed men on horseback, one of whom knew the 



155 

language of the country, in search of the missing horses, 
knowing that they would be found if, against all 
probability, they had escaped of themselves, m spite of 
the care that had been taken overnight to fasten them, 
But, after many hours, the two men returned without 
having seen anything. 

The natives, meanwhile, instead of coming to our 
camp as on the previous clay, kept aloof and sneaked 
off with cunning speed so soon as they saw us go 
towards them. Those who allowed themselves to be 
taken by surprise were indifferent to the glamour of 
rupees and to soft words alike and, in a tone that 
seemed to reproach us with their theft, declared that 
they had no chief or that they did not know his house, 
This display of ill-will and insincerity confirmed Dutreuil 
de Rhins in his conviction that the villagers were the 
culprits and in his determination not to yield. He had 
good reasons for this. When he left Jyerkutido, he 
had no more horses than were absolutely indispensable 
and he had no money left with which to buy others, 
On the other hand, he feared that, if he did not insist 
upon obtaining justice, he would encourage the Tibetans 
to commit fresh thefts and would run the risk of losing 
all his animals. He consulted me and consulted 
Mohammed Isa, the interpreter, and we were all of the 
same opinion. An expedient must be found which 
would induce the population to emerge from their silence 
and the invisible authorities to show themselves and 
interfere. Dutreuil de Rhins thought that the best thing 
would be to seize two horses belonging to the Tibetans, 
not, as Mohammed Isa suggested, by way of restitution, 
but as a pledge, while declaring that we would restore 
them so soon as we should have come to an understand- 
ing with the authorities, whether these undertook to 
hunt for and recover our animals or took measures to 
prevent any similar act m the future. On the whole. 



however irritated he might be, his intentions were ex- 
ceedingly moderate and he was so Far from expecting a 
serious fight that he did not even order the few rounds 
of ammunition to be taken from the chests containing 
them* 

The orders given in consequence were executed at 
daybreak the next morning, while we were preparing 
to start. Did the Tibetans grasp the meaning of our 
declaration ? I cannot say ; but the promptness with 
which they seized upon this opportunity to attack us 
seemed to me to show that they were waiting for it 
and that they had only been looking for a pretext, good 
or bad. A clamour arose, grew ever louder and soon 
filial the whole village. A formidable cry of " A7 ho 
/in!" rang through the valley and we saw a few men 
run in the direction of the monastery, which was hidden 
from us by a projecting portion of the mountain. The 
.shiulso, that is to say the lama charged with the temporal 
administration of the convent, is at the same time, as I 
learnt later, the chief of the whole canton of Tumhumdo, 
which numbers seven villages. Hardly had these men 
returned, when, as we were beginning to leave the 
enclosure, 1 heard a musket-shot and the sharp whir/ 
of a bullet. It was a quarter-past four in the morning* 
Meanwhile, we formed our march according to our usual 
order ; Dutreuil dc Rhins in front, armed with his 
Winchester rifle; 1 bringing up the rear, armed only 
with my compass. The village is situated on an 
eminence in the angle formed by the confluence of the 
Deng Chu with the torrent which we had come down 
on our way from Jyerkundo, The road retreats a little, 
describing a small curve in order to cross this torrent 
and to pass along the side of the mountain on the right 
batik of the Deng Chu. The houses are similar to all 
those in Tibet, with thick walls, narrow embrasures* and 
flat roofs with parapets. 



ttfbet 



157 



At four paces from the enclosure which we had just 
left stood a regular donjon, square, very high and pierced 
with loop-holes, through which issued the barrels of fire- 
arms. The shots, rare at first, became more and more 
numerous. We abstained from replying, thinking that 
it was merely a threatening demonstration. Dutreuil 
de Rhins, who had taken up a post of observation 
behind one of those little stone walls, called /M^W, which 



DETAILED PLAN 
OF TUMBUMDO. 




run through the Tibetan valleys in every direction, said, 
as I joined him : 

** Those fellows don't shoot btdiy; a Wte ail Jim 
graced my coat. The devil 1 OM om't tee t$ Jniich u 
the tip of the nose of one of those blackguards 1" 

"We're in a bad po4lb<! 1 4^d7 We shall 
di. be killed, if we dk^,fewnT-tiid aet to a mew 

' 



placed 



158 {Tibet 

He made no reply, but he stood up and we crossed 
the torrent together. The firing of the Tibetans became 
very brisk and was regularly kept up and, several of our 
animals having been struck, we began to fire back, but 
sparingly, for we had only seventy-two rounds in all 
We were then following the mountain-side on the right 
bank, exactly opposite the houses and within range of 
the Tibetan muskets, without being able to move off to 
the right, because the mountain is perpendicular, The 
passage was the more dangerous inasmuch as the narrow- 
ness of the road obliged us to go in single file. I left 
Dutrcuil de Rhins in ortier to reach the head of the 
caravan, to lead it as well as I could and myself to take a 
rifle from one of the men who did not know how to use it* 
I came up with our Chinese secretary, who was dragging 
his horse by the bridle, and, while i was unfastening the 
rifle slung across the saddle-bow, two bullets struck the 
poor beast, one after the other, and it fell While firing 
in the direction of the Tibetans, whom we were still 
unable to ace, I hastened the speed of the caravan, which 
was greatly diminished by the wounded beasts. A 
few more steps and the worst part would have been 
passed ; the mountain ceased to be perpendicular, we 
could have climbed the slope, placed ourselves beyond the 
reach of the enemy's fire and turned the position to our 
own advantage. Suddenly, I heard cries of distress ; I 
realised that Dutreuil de Rhins was wounded. Turning 
round, I saw him at thirty paces from me, still on his 
feet and leaning on his rifle* I rushed to him and he 
fell swooning in my arms* He had had the fatal idea 
of stopping for a few moments to fire, instead of con* 
turning his march ; and this was doubly dangerous, for 
he was wearing his coat that day with the fur ouUide 
and made a good mark and, also, the Tibetans, who4f$ 
when shooting at the moving marl^ tre 
shots at any fixed object. 1 kid the 




ttibct 150 

unhappy man on a piece of felt in a spot where the 
road widens slightly and behind a little wall a foot high, 
so that he was sheltered from the bullets. I sent 
Mohammed Isa to the Chinese agent of Jycrkundo, with 
instructions to bring him at once, and I released the 
horses which we had seized, hoping that the Tibetans 
would give us at least a moment's breathing-space, 
which I meant to employ to prepare a litter and carry 
off the wounded man as quickly as possible* The 
sight of the wound left me no hope ; the bullet had 
penetrated far into the belly, a little below the left 
groin, 

"Do not touch me/* he murmured, "I am in too 
great pain. Make terms with the Tibetans anil take 
back the caravan to the place we came from. 1 ' 

And he asked for a glass of water. 

In obedience to his order* I sent the cook, who spoke 
the Tibetan language, to parley with the natives. 1 had 
no great confidence in the success of (his negotiation, 
although the firing had ceased for the moment ; but, 
in addition to the fact that Dutreuil de Khins* instruc- 
tions were formal, there was nothing better to <io in 
the state in which he was- Meanwhile, 1 had a litter 
prepared with a camp-bed and I began to dress the 
wound in accordance with the medical instructions which 
I carried on me. The wounded man spoke a few more 
indistinct wordvS as though dreaming : 

"Bandits! , . . Labour lost. * , , Fine 
weather for starting! . . ." 

As a matter of fact, the sky was clear and blue* 
Then the unhappy man, who was ready for the last 
start, threw up blood and fainted. His head and 
hands were colder than the stones of the road, 

They had at last brought the camp-bed, but there 
were no sticks to carry it," They went to fetch some, 
while the other men, at about a hundred and fifty paces 



160 ttfbet 

from me, close to a little hamlet whose inhabitants, 
fortunately, had taken no part in the combat, were 
struggling to collect the scattered yaks and to reload 
the fallen packages. The confusion, the lack of cool- 
ness in our men, the absence of their leaders delayed 
this business unduly. I was still alone with Dutreuil 
de Rhins, who did not regain consciousness and was 
growing colder and colder, when I saw, in the bottom 
of the valley, three Tibetans run along with bent backs, 
crouch behind a wall one hundred yards in front of me 
and fire at me over it. Their bullets flattened them- 
selves on the metal-work of the medicine-chest against 
which 1 was leaning and I had not a single cartridge 
with which to reply. At the same time, my emissary 
returned at a run : 

"They won't let us stay," he cried, "we must go 
at once ! " 

And he went out of his way to avoid me, fearing, 
no doubt, that I should stop him ; but I did not think 
of trying to do so, the poor lad was so frightened and 
was running so fast, He hmi just seen death face to 
face ami the sight had thrown his heart into his legs. 
I gave him my orders for the caravan, that they should 
at once bring me the shafts for the litter, that they 
should start the convoy with all speed and that the 
armed men should join me. To execute this commission 
would have taken two minutes. Unfortunately, he did 
not hurry to convey my orders, I saw him talking 
with a Tibetan of the neighbouring hamlet, who waved 
his hat and made great movements with his arniM as 
though to interpose his mediation with the aggressors ; 
and, 'mean while, no one came to my assistance and the 
firing was breaking out at several points at once. The 
enemies came nearer and increased in numbers, I 
shouted : no reply. I ran myself to fetch the man and 
the things that I needed to carry the wounded mart* 



ZCibct li 

"Be off quick/ 1 said the Tibetan with the hat, "ami 
they will cease firing," 

Thinking it dangerous to go down the road to the 
bottom of the valley, I gave orders to march at mid- 
slope, above the hamlet that had kept neutral; but the 
inhabitants categorically objected to this and I did nut 
think it wise to add to the number of our enemies. 
While Razoumoff was taking the forty rounds of am 
munition* from the cases in which they were packet!, 
I tried to go back to Dutreuil de Rhins. It was ton 
late: the Tibetans, ever more numerous, for they were 
constantly coming up from "the other villages, h;iJ 
advanced and taken up their position so as to prevent 1 
me from retracing my steps. As always happens in such 
a case, I bitterly regretted not having followed my first 
idea, which was to make off at once, notwithstanding 
even the wishes of my chief, forgetting the reasons which 
had made me reject this idea and which, had I to do so 
over again, would still have obliged me to act as I did. 
At this moment, I was in a painful dilemma : was I ro 
leave our chief to his now inevitable fate, but to save 
that by which he set store above all else, I mean the* 
scientific results of his mission, the cause and fruit of 
long labours and long sufferings, or wan I to sacrifice 
everything to an honourable, but useless attempt to snatch 
from the enemy's hand a man whose life had perhaps 
already left his body ? I did not hesitate, however. 
I kept five armed men with me and, although their 
awkwardness, combined with the insignificant quantity of 
ammunition in our possession, forbade all hope of achiev- 
ing a result of any kind, we opened fire on the Tibetans. 
The ktter, cleverly hidden behind wall* that served 
them at the same time as a rampart and a rest for their 
muskets, shot at us from three sides at a time* Our 

* There were alno u tew rountla, fifty pwhapfl, f<t Dutivuil tl' 
Hhtn* Winchester; but we were unnble to Hnd them, 

11 



162 ZTibet 

animals fell one after the other, the bullets rained around 
us, flinging up fragments of stones in our faces or tearing 
our clothes. By singular good fortune, only two of our 
men were hit, one in the shoulder, the other in the hand. 
Then, when our supply of ammunition was exhausted, a 
troop of the enemy came to fire at us almost point-blank 
from behind. 

" Stop firing," they cried, " and we will leave you 
alone/ 7 

Ra'/oumofF, whose rifle was still loaded, took aim at 
the most prominent among thorn. But, in spite of my 
rage and of the pleasure which it would have given 
me to see one of those brigands bite the dust, I stopped 
Razoumoff, saying : 

** If you kill him, Dutreuil de Rhins will pay for it.'* 

It was then about three hours since the first shot had 
been fired, And the ^Tibetans rushed upon us, waving 
their swords, charging with their lances and uttering 
savage yells* My terrified men fled, excepting the 
interpreter, whom I held back by the tail of his coat 
1 tried to reason with the barbarians and to remind them 
of their promise ; but they drove us along by main 
force, striking us with the nuts of their swords ami the 
shafts of their lances and shouting : 

" Seng, song I (Go, go !) " 

A lama on horseback, in full dress, apparently a 
stranger to the canton, came riding by. He wore an 
air of solemn good-nature, I begged him to interfere 
and he replied, with hesitating gravity : 

" No one shall be hurt." 

And he did, in fact, make some timid efforts to allay 
the wrath that had been stirred up- U was in vain* 
My interpreter, whom I had had the greatest difficulty 
in holding back until then, took to flight ami I had to 
yield to force. I retired slowly, with the lances in my 
back, amid the furious shouting of the Tibetans, who 



163 

were exasperated by my slowness. When they were 
not pushing me with the shafts of their lances, they 
fired at me at ten paces, deafening my ears \vith the 
noise of the reports and the whistling of the bullets. 1 
was now convinced that my last hour had come and iluit 
they were sparing me for :i moment only to muke me 
taste the relish of death the better. However, i Bulked 
with a calmness which, although artificial and Mudied ut 
first, gradually became natural and eu\y to me. Stul - 
denly, 1 heard a shout of " <V/r/X?> <*^X< ' (^ n \\ stn p ) " 
I turned round and saw two muskets pointed at me and 
fired at the same moment. 1 stood firm and they flung 
themselves upon me, rifled my pockets, robbed me of 
my watch, the only object of any value that I then had, 
and began their former game once more. 

Shortly after, still driven on by the yelling crowd 
of Tibetans, 1 came up with one of our men, who 
had sat down behind a projecting rock, I Je was 
wounded in the hand and the sight of his own Wood 
had deprived him even of the courage to run awuy. 
When he saw the Tibetans, he began to tremble and 
cry and hurriedly got rid of a carving-knife which he 
wns carrying in his belt. Taking him by the arm, I 
shook him violently : 

"This is not the time to cry," 1 Haiti and made 
him take back his knife. 

The Tibetans seemed curiously astonished at this 
scene ; their shouts and threats ceased. I thought that 
1 might profit by this and, laying my hand familiarly on 
the shoulder of the boldest : 

"Let us go that way," I said, pointing to the top 
of the valley. 

Taken aback for a moment, he soon recovered his 
assurance and, whirling his sword, he let fly with nil 
his might at my head. Fortunately, 1 was able to ward 
off the blow with my left arm* At the same time, the 



164 UH)Ct 

others once more began to shout, to strike me, to push 
me, to fire off their muskets and again forced me to go 
down along the torrent, As 1 passed at the foot of a 
big village, perched on the side of the mountain, the 
inhabitants, from their roofs, flung huge lumps of 
stone at me, which might well have done for me. 
Then the convent trumpet sounded, the firing ceased, 
my escort stopped and the children came and threw 
stones at me with their slings. I had reached the 
boundary of the canton of Tumbumdo, on the banks 
of the Do Chu. 

A great silence reigned, My power of will, until 
then violently strained, so as not to show weakness in 
the eyes of the enemy, now relaxed for a moment. The 
murmur of the deep waters of the stream seemed to call 
to me and to claim that dreary life which had remained 
faithful to me despite myself. Of what use was that 
life to me? Had I not lost all that made it precious 
to me ? Was I not alone, stripped of every resource, 
surrounded by inexorable enemies, without anyone whom 
I could trust ? And, if men's hatred spared me, had I 
not vast deserts to pass through, where cold, hunger and 
the wolves awaited me ? And, yet, had I gone through 
so much to abandon all in the despair of the moment ? 
Was there nothing more to be attempted and must I 
cast off my burden because it seemed to me too heavy ? 
What had sill this hard journey been but one long lesson 
in patience ? Had I not there learnt that there are no 
clouds so thick but the sun dispels them, no night so 
dark but retires before the dawn ? Come, then ! Let 
us take up our burden again : a day will come when our 
shoulders shall be relieved ! Besides, if the Tibetans 
had not killed me when this would have been so easy, 
was it not a sign that they were not implacable, that 
there would be a' means of saving whut was not already 
irreparably lost ? As though to force myself to hope and 



Uibct 165 

to show my scorn for hostile fortune, 1 took my compass 
from my pocket and began to take my bearings as 1 went 
up the narrow valley, deeply set between high mountains 
with rounded tops. I was resolved to look for the 
dorgha whom we had seen two days before and who 
could, perhaps, help me. I had taken a few steps when 
I met a man on horseback who greeted me with a 
kindly air. This simple greeting gave me more pleasure 
than I can tell. It was like that vague quiver in the air 
which is the forerunner of the awaited dawn. 

After walking less than two miles, 1 found four of 
my men, who, no longer hearing the sound of tiring, had 
sat down by the roadside, hoping that I would come that 
way, if I were still alive. It was exactly half-past nine 
and it was more than two hours since 1 had left the 
battle-field at about four miles' distance. 1 passed quickly 
in front of several villages and, a couple of leagues 
further, I came to the hut of the ferry- -man, for the 
Do Chu, which is eight or nine yards deep and i^o 
to 1 60 yards wide, is not fordahk 1 * It is crossed by 
means of little boats, each of which is made of two 
undressed yak-hides sewn together. The ferry-man told 
us that Tiso, the dorgha, was on the other side of the 
river ; and, when we asked him to take us across, he 
began by saying that he would want much money for 
that, in this way expressing his opinion, which, for that 
matter, was very well founded, that people whone 
appearance was so little in their favour could not be rich 
enough to pay him for his trouble. 

" You have received orders concerning us," I $aitl< 
"Our caravan has remained behind because the beasts 
are tired. I have gone on ahead myself to have the 
flour which we need got ready at Lab UK Gompa- 
When the caravan comes, you will be paid. 

The good man looked at me from head to foot with 
a suspicious eye : 



166 

"So you/ 1 he said, in a voice that betrayed his 
surprise ami his doubts, " are the mun about whom Pu 
Lao Yeh sent me his instructions ?" 

"Just so, but hurry!" I replied, adding a few 
imaginary details to reassure him completely. 

Few things in my life have been so painful to me as 
this little comedy, which was, unhappily, indispensable. 
At last, the ferryman made up his mind, fetched two of 
his boats, which were drying under a shed, and carried 
us to the opposite bank. 

Hardly had 1 set foot on land, when I met the man 
whom I was in search* of. 1 told him our terrible 
adventure. He showed some compassion, much alarm 
and more embarrassment : 

"However," he said, "all is not lost. The shadso 
of Labug Gompa, which is near here, is a great friend 
of Pu Lao Yeivs and you can rely on him* I will go 
to see him presently and we: will discuss what measures 
to take. Meanwhile, come to my house, where you 
will find food and shelter, and ( will ut once semi a 
messenger to Tumbumdo, He will arrive there to-night 
and will perhaps get something out of those people/' 

I accordingly spent the night at Tiso's house, which 
was in a village at two leagues from the Do Chu, within 
the jurisdiction of Labug Gompu* 

On the next morning, the 6th of June, I received a 
visit from a tall, thin old mun, with long grey hair and 
regular features of the Tibetan type. He wa$ the 
diplomatic ngent of the shiulso of Labup;, who hardly 
ever leaves his convent himself and who, above all, 
may not compromise himself by seeing wmrBuddhist 
strangers. I le was accompanied by a lama and by 
servants bringing meat, tsumbu, tea. and butter* Thia 
old Nestor, whose grave* gentle expression and simple, 
easy ways prejudiced me in his favour, made me a 
regular speech, long ami elegant and full of dignity and 



TObet 167 

cordiality. He told me that his chief had sent him to 
bid me welcome and to assure me of his sympathy and 
concern in the great misfortune that had befallen me* 
The shadso had been to Peking atid hud heard speak of 
France as a great and noble country ; ho would sec to it 
that her representatives were well treated on the territory 
under his jurisdiction and would do what he could to 
prevail on the people of Tumbumdo to restore the 
baggage and animals of our mission, to respect the life 
of Dutreuil de Rhins, or, if he were already dead, at 
least to give up his mortal remains. In the meantime, 
he would take care to provide Tor my wants and hogged 
me to stay quietly in the house where I was, for far of 
complicating what was already a very difficult matter. 
Having finished his speech, the old man set out at once, 
with the dorgha, for Tumbumdo, 

They returned in the afternoon, in the company of 
the tungchen Li Lao Yeh, who, at Mohammed Isa's 
entreaties, had gone to Tumbumdo on the evening of 
the 5th of June. He had been very badly received by 
the population, who had threatened him with death 
and obstinately refused to listen to reason. He hud 
seen our Chinese secretary, whom he had left at 
the village with Mohammed Isa ; but he had heard 
nothing of Dutreuil de Rhins or myself. Only, it was 
rumoured that I was seriously wounded and, as he found 
no trace of me when going up the Do Chu, he had 
already given me up for lost, when he met the men sent 
from Labug Gompa, who reassured him as to my fate f 
whereupon he hurried to come to see me. He averred 
that he and Pu Lao Yeh would make every effort to 
obtain satisfaction, that they would convoke the general 
assembly of the twenty-five Taorongpa chiefs and 
persuade them to intervene with the people of Tum- 
bumdo to force them to give way ; he exhorted me to 
have patience and eagerly invited me not to go out nor 



168 TTibct 

to take any personal steps, which would be dangerous to 
myself and prejudicial to the interests which I wished to 
defend, or, at the very least, useless. 

On the yth, they brought me provisions from the 
gompa, but no news. About mid-day, as, in the sadness 
and impatience induced by my forced inactivity, I was 
pacing up and down the terrace of the house, which 
overlooked the valley, and examining the too-restricted 
horizon, 1 suddenly perceived something red moving on 
the bank of the river. That something could be only a 
man's clothing and the r^d was Loo bright for it to belong 
to a native. 1 sent to see and they brought me Parpai 
and Tokhta Afchun* These two men had displayed a 
certain firmness in the combat of Tumbumdo, l*arpai 
had bravely fixed his bayonet at the end of his rifle and 
had stuck to his post so long as the ammunition lasted 
and the number of our aggressors did not outflank us. 
Tokhta Akhun had even distinguished himself by going 
under the noses of the Tibetans to fetch a rifle which 
had been abandoned by its owner; but he was stopped 
by a group of the enemy and prevented from rejoining 
u. iJoth of them, instead of going down the road, had 
lost themselves in the mountains, where they met each 
other and chance had led them to the valley of the 
La Chu. Their situation was a critical one: they had 
no supplies except two pounds of tsamba, they had lost 
the hope of ever finding me, they did not know the roads 
and they knew that long days' marching through hostile 
or desert country separated them from the nearest places 
where they might obtain some help. However, seeing 
that the sun hatl reached its highest point, they had ttat 
down beside the clear stream with real eastern apathy, 
had taken out their bag of flour and set about lunching* 
In reply to my questions*, they Jtaid that they had 
observed absolutely nothing ; as regards Dutreuil d<s 
Rhins, they had neither seen nor heard anything and 



160 

they did not know what had become of the man who 
was still missing, ex-captain Ahmed. 

The next day was the first day of the fair at Lalnig 
Gompa: the valley was alive with numerous gay wayfarers 
in their holiday clothes; but none of them was of any 
use to me. On the gth, tired of champing the bit, 1 
resolved to make an attempt to go in search of news 
and, if possible, to return to Tumbunulo. This step 
was an unreasonable one, but 1 felt, that I must ascertain 
for myself whether it were impossible and try to fimi 
out what they were keeping from me* The boatman 
on the Do Chu refused to ferry us across and, on the 
other side, the road was guarded by armed horsemen, 
so that we had to go back to our lodging, or rather 
our prison. On the icth, by means of promises which 
happier circumstances enabled me to keep, I persuaded 
a young Tibetan who came to see us from time to time 
to go to Tumbumdo and try to discover what was 
happening. He returned at five o'clock in the evening 
and told me that Li Lao Yeh hud been obliged to leave 
Jyerkundo to settle a conflict that had broken out 
between the people of Surmang and those of Lhasu 
and that two of our men were kept prisoners at Tum- 
bumdo ; but he had seen or hearu nothing on the 
subject of Dutreuil de Rhins. On the next morning, 
the Do Chu ferryman charitably came to warn me that 
fighting men had been posted on the banks of the 
stream to assassinate me if I appeared ; but, about 
mid-day, I received better news : my host, the dorgha, 
who had gone, on the 7th, to the convent at Lalwg 
with a message from me to the shadso, at last returned, 
explaining that his delay, which was a long one, seeing 
that we were not two miles from the monastery, was 
due to the fact that he had gone to meet a powerful 
htma of the neighbouring district of Zachukka, who had 
now arrived at Labug Gompa* 



170 

This lama, whose name was Yapsang Tenam, was 
the chief of the convent of Tubchi and, as he was a 
native of the country around the Koko Nor, he was 
commonly called "the Chinese." The dorgha repre- 
sented him to me as being a dreaded justiciary, endowed 
with a great spirit of enterprise and having a large 
number of valiant men-at-arms under his command ; 
he told me, moreover, that this lama had appeared to 
him to he favourably disposed towards the cause of 
our mission. I therefore sent him back to this singular 
monk, captain of mercenaries and justiciary, to beg him 
to interfere and to explain to him that I would recognise 
his services in u more substantial manner than by mere 
thanks. I could not have a better go-between in this 
negotiation than the dorgha Tiso ; for not only hud he 
shown great readiness to serve us and hud his loyalty 
been guaranteed by all those who had interested them- 
selves in us before or after our misfortune, bur also the 
fact that he was a Golok allowed him better than any 
other to influence the Zachukkupa, who were kinsmen 
and friends of the Goloks and who shared with them 
many characteristics that distinguish them from the other 
Tibetans* Yapsang Tenam forthwith dispatched a 
haughty and threatening letter to the chief of the 
Tumbumdo convent, swearing that, if justice were not 
promptly done, he would cross the river at the head of 
ni$ men-at-arms* At the same time, he let me know 
that he could not interfere more actively at the moment, 
because the omens were not favourable and the moon was 
unpromising. I then sent the dorgha to Jyerkundo, to 
see Pu Luo Yeh and tell him how astonished J was not 
to have heard from him for so long ; thai I did not 
doubt but that he had busied himself in this grave 
matter with the xcal which both hin duty ana his 
own interest prescribed ; that, nevertheless, it was 
strange that he should delay in having Dutreutl de 



171 

Rhins conveyed to me, a concession which it ought not 
to have been difficult for him to obtain from the people 
of Tumbumdo, since a refusal on their part would serve 
them not at all and would only aggravate their crime and 
the punishment that awaited them ; that, if he were 
unable to obtain the restitution of the baggage and 
animals of the mission, he ought at least to insist upon 
the immediate restitution of the papers and instruments, 
as well as the release of those of our men who were still 
detained at Tumbumdo : this was of urgent importance 
to us, whereas the people of Tumbumdo could not derive 
any benefit from keeping either* the one or the other. 

Tiso set out in the morning and, that same evening, 
two dorghas arrived from Pu Lao Yeh, accompanied by 
our Chinese secretary, Mohammed I$a and Ahmed* I 
had no great praise to bestow upon any one of these three 
men. Mohammed Isa had displayed a ridiculous fear at 
the beginning of the fight : true, he had acquitted him- 
self very well of the mission upon which I had sent him 
to the tungchen of Jyerkundo, but he had done wrong m 
not returning to me at once. He made the excuse that 
he had been forcibly detained at Tumbumdo, in which 
case it was very strange that they should have left him 
his rifle, his cartridges, his revolver, his sword-bayonet 
and his horse and that they should have allowed him, 
on his own confession, to return on the third day to 
Jyerkundo, where he remained for twice twenty-four 
hours without letting me hear from him. The proba- 
bility is that, despairing of my luck, he intended to 
abandon rne, but that the tungehen refused to look upon 
the matter in his light and forced him to rejoin me. 
The Chinese secretary had disappeared so noon as 
Dutreuil de Hhins was wounded and had left me alone 
at the very moment when he would have been particularly 
useful to me in helping to attend to our leader and 
perhaps in carrying him away, while the other men were 



172 mi>ct 

engaged in collecting the scattered caravan. He hid 
himself somewhere or other and, when the fighting was 
over, showed himself to the Tibetans, who, of course, 
respected his Chinese nationality and even showed him 
hospitality, As for the former captain of Yakuh Beg, 
he had prudently concealed himself in the midst of the 
yaks, which had served him as u rampart, and, when the 
Tibetans carried off the animals, they carried off the 
captain at the same time, without, however, doing him 
the least harm. 

Mohammed Isa told me that, when 1 was driven 
out, the Tibetan^ at once hired two wretched vagrants to 
take up Dutreuil de Rhins, bind his hands and feet and 
fling him into the waters of the Do Chu. He added 
that, at that moment, he still gave some signs of life ; 
but this lust detail was not confirmed by the dorghas of 
Pu Lao Yeh, whose information was official ami whose 
evidence agreed in all other respects with that of 
Mohammed Isa, Although 1 did, at first, accept the 
version of out interpreter, I am inclined to think, on 
reflection, that it should be received with caution, for 
not only was Mohammed Isa always greatly given to 
exaggeration, but it is not likely that Dutreuil de 
Rhins, who was already cold when I was obliged to 
leave him, can have survived for several hours more. 
The accounts which were then given me by our 
secretary, our interpreter and the dorghas corroborated 
what I had already heard elsewhere ami proved 
evidently that the aggressors had acted only upon 
the instructions received from their chief, the superior 
of the convent, who commanded them to kilt the 
Europeans and to spare the others ami who then, 
when Dutreuil de Rhins had fallen, ordered them to 
seize upon him, the baggage and the animals, but to 
kill no one so soon as we were disabled and disarmed. 
This quite explained the Tibetans' conduct, which at first 



ZffbCt 173 

seemed very strange to me, Dutreuil de Rh'ms was 
considered and treated as alone responsible for an act 
which was a mere attempt at pressure to obtain the 
justice denied us, but which it had pleased our aggressors 
to qualify as an act of brigandage in order to palliate 
their own. 

In certain conventicles that had taken place since' 
among the Tibetans, there had, according to Mohammed 
Isa's account) which the others neither denied nor 
confirmed, been a strongly-urged question of prevent- 
ing me from reaching China and of doing away with 
me as an inconvenient witness. It would have 
been simpler for our enemies to do away with me 
when they showed me the polite attention of accom- 
panying me for more than an hour to the river ; 
but they had not thought of everything and it now 
occurred to them that my complaints were very 
annoying and that my depositions at Sining would 
be unfavourable to them, whereas those of our 
servants, who were almost all Chinamen and people 
of low condition, could easily be influenced in such a 
way as to throw the fault upon the Europeans. How- 
ever, I troubled but little about what I heard in this 
connection, for it could be only a rumour spread with 
a view to intimidating me and 1 was firmly resolved 
not to yield by a line's breadth to any pressure of 
this kind. Lastly, 1 was told that all that could be 
found of our baggage had been collected at the 
instance of the Chinese agents and placed under 
seal by the authorities of Tumbumdo, who, however, 
persisted in refusing to restore any part of it. Tht* 
negotiations, moreover, had become more difficult be- 
cause Pu Lao Yeh was alone at Jyerktuulo ; his 
colleague, Li, had had to go to the Tno Lti to settle the 
difference to which 1 have referred above, a difference 
caused by the Tibetans, subject to Lhasa, who hud gone 



in search of suit in the direction of Surmang and who 
laid claim to the right to revive an old custom by which 
the population, who were once themselves subject to 
Lhasa, were obliged to furnish a thousand yaks for the 
carriage of the salt from their territory to that of the 
Debajong* All this I learnt on the 12th of June. I at 
once made the Chinese secretary write to the tungchen 
all that I had instructed the dorgha Tiso, in the 
morning, io tell him in connection with the baggage 
and papers and I also directed him to order a search 
to be made for the body of Dutreuil de Rhins, so 
that we might give it a Refitting burial. Alas, it was a 
very useless recommendation : the river had long since 
curried off" the sud remains in its deep waters, confine*! 
between perpendicular bunks, and he who had been 
snah'hed from the honour due to him in life was to be 
deprived also of honour in death. 

T!u* night that followed was the most anxious and 
the longest of sill. 1 tried in vain to sleep: the ruin, 
which hud not ceased pouring in torrents during the 1 
day, now soaked through the ceiling of the narrow 
and dump lodging that served as my bed-chamber. 
Wrapped in u dirty blanket, worn and full of holes, 
which I owed to the charity of my hosts, 1 was soon wet 
through and lay shivering on my straw mattress, which 
swarmed with vermin. I moved it to each corner of my 
cell in succession, but to no purpose, for the rain entered 
everywhere. 1 cursed with all my heart the lama who, 
on the preceding day, clad in the nacrcd emblem?* of hi# 
office, had gone to pray on the river's bank and to fling 
pellets of flour and butter into the water, in order, by 
this propitiatory sacrifice, to prevail upon the genius of 
the waves to send down the rain which wan wanted for 
the Imrley-cmpn. 1 remained thus almost all the night, 
sitting with my blanket over my head, thinking of those 
terrible things which had happened beyond recall, of 



{Tibet 175 

that shipwreck in sight of port, of that death on the 
eve of happy days. A brutal certainty had suddenly 
destroyed the vague hope which I had insisted on 
preserving against all likelihood. The loss of a chief 
whose noble and courtly soul had not belied its kindness 
to me during the whole course of three and a half years 
of life shared in common and had changed the bonds 
of discipline, which united me to him, into the sweeter 
and surer links of friendship; my sorrowful powcrlessness 
to help and relieve him in his distress ; the bitterness of 
the defeat inflicted by barbarians devoid of all generosity; 
the fruits of long labours, whicl* hail ripened only by 
dint of care and pain, spoiled by an hour's storm ; the 
absolute destitution which condemned me to rely upon 
the charity of strangers, wavering between their pre- 
judices and their humanity, between the fear of the 
present and the fear of the future ; the sense of my 
solitude, of my subjection, of the inanity of my effort* 
deprived of any point of support : all these miseries, 
added and multiplied together, gave mo the impression 
that I was sinking into a dark and silent depth from 
which there is no returning. Two things, however, 
strengthened me and inspired me with the energy to 
fight against despair: on the one hand, the consciousness 
that, in these painful circumstances, I hud done nothing 
which I did not consider useful to the interests of our 
chief and of our mission, nothing that was inconsistent 
with our dignity as men and Europeans, and that I had 
abandoned nothing to the fear of approaching peril, but 
only to material necessity ; and, on the other hand, the 
feeling that there still lay upon me great duties which, 
whatever measure of success I might achieve, demanded 
all my zeal and all my strength. 

Nothing happened during the next two days and I 
did my best not to give way to the evil suggestions of 
impatience, which, in Asia, is the most serious and the 



176 

most dangerous of faults. On the ijth, the dorgha 
Tiso returned with the tungchcn's reply. The tungchen 
regretted that he had not yet been able to do anything 
because, in the assembly of the twenty-five Taorongpa 
chiefs which he had summoned, the majority were against 
us and some of them used violent and threatening 
language ; he asked me nevertheless to have confidence 
in him, assuring me that he would do all that he could 
to appease their minds and to satisfy my demands ; he 
hoped to come to see me to put before me the results of 
his efforts and to procure for me the means of reaching 
Sining ; in the meantime, he was writing to the shadso 
of Labug to supply me with the money and the 
provisions necessary for my support and that of my 
men. 

What Pu Lao Ych toM me of the hostility shown 
by the majority of the assembly did nor astonish me, 
tor not only is the canton of Tumbumdo one of the 
most important in the district, hut, above all, its 
monastery belongs to the rule of Saslcya, us does the 
Jyerkundo monastery, on which it depends* and of which 
the chief lama is the most influential am! powerful 
individual in the country* The Utter, therefore, from 
ft spirit of comradeship, supported his colleague and 
subordinate with all the weight of his high authority 
and carried with him all the convents of the Sankyapu, 
which seerm to predominate in this part of Tibet, On 
the other hand, the monastery of Labug, which belonged 
to the reformed order of the Gdupa, of whom thr 
Dalai Lama is the chief, had taken our part, because it 

* To umplity s\ ctmipnrimm which th' nuulcr will iMsily uiulw*itaitit, 
kit HH way thai the convent ;tt Tmntuumlo IH th rcnitU'tUT of :u it)*Hat 
that tit Jyrrkutulo cf n provincial ;uu! tlmt the HI'IIPIM) of the onter 
tv-mlc'4 (it SnsKyu (}<unp:i. In tlu: Niuttii way, tiu 1 . wupi-i-itM- of Lrtbttff it 
it provinciul of the {JelujM order tuut it tni^ht uclt In; that tlu- i 
of Ttitidii WHH a nicft: tiMnrt who w=^ imtrv {xw^rfut tcmporulty 
h'.s liientrchicnl MUpviriur, the provinciul of 



177 

did not consider itself bound to make common cause 
per fas et nefas with the monks of another rule and 
because the Gelupa, without being less fanatical than 
the other lamas (the reader will remember the reception 
which we met with at Tachi Gompa), are more devoted 
to the Chinese government, which gives them its special 
protection. 

Here is a fact which will throw more light than 
any other upon the real sentiments of the lamas of 
the reformed rule, A very numerous caravan, sent 
to Tasienlu by the Panchen Rinpocheh, the second in 
dignity of the Gelupa lamas, had come to Jyerkundo 
about the beginning of the month, It was led by a 
religious of high rank whom we had often seen on our 
road and who had treated us with politeness, but reserve. 
Shortly after the disaster to our mission he sent me 
a message to express his regrets at the misfortune of 
which we had been the victims and to assure me that, 
if a similar thing had happened to us within the 
jurisdiction of Lhasa, we should only have had our- 
selves to blame, but that, in a country where we 
had the right to travel by virtue of a passport from 
the Emperor, the case was different ancf that he, for 
his part, disapproved in the highest degree of the 
action of the people of Tumbumdo. It will be seen 
that his reservation as regarded the Lhasa jurisdiction 
was a pretty strong one and that his friendliness 
towards us depended solely upon the orders of the 
Chinese government* 

On the 1 6th, the shadso of Labug sent me a little 
money and some provisions and informed me that he 
had had a conference with the lama of Tubcht touching 
the best way of assisting me and of making the people 
of Tumbumdo disgorge and that they would act with 
energy so soon as the circumstances and the almanac 
be propitious. 

13 



178 . 

On the same day, I tried to distract my thoughts 
by going to see an old spiytt^ or fastness, whose ruins 
rose picturesquely on a tail rock on the other side of 
the valley, some 400 yards from where we were. It was 
difficult of approach because of the steepness of the slope 
and, when I had reached the top, I saw that the peak on 
which the castle was built was separated from the 
mountains on the left bunk of the La Chu by a very 
deep and unsurmoimtable precipice, so that it was isolated 
on every side. It was a very strong position in the 
absence of cannon ; and the very thick pieces of wall, 
ten yards high, which 'remained and a few cells, over- 
looking the valley through narrow embrasures, that still 
stood intact- would have afforded a solid defence in case 
of need. When I returned from this excursion, I was 
given to umk'rstiuul, with much circumlocution, that I 
was not to go out, or they would be responsible tor 
nothing. 

Confined to my gaol, I can think of nothing better 
to pass the time than to describe it in detail, as the 
negotiations are stopped for the moment. Imagine a 
square court-yard of about 30 feet, surrounded by & 
plain wall on one side and by galleries or sheds on the 
three others. Under two of those sheds arc a dung- 
heap and Dutreuil tie Rhinfi* white horse, which was 
given him by the imperial vice -legate and brought back by 
Mohammed Isa. The third shed serves us as a drawing- 
room, dining-room and kitchen. It U furnished with 
two stone*, which do duty for a stove> a htcw-pan and a 
wooden dish. In a corner is a little dark hole with 
a litter in it : this is my bed- room ; in the* opposite 
corner, a staircase leads down to the street and up to 
the terrace that runs above the galleries* The front 
looks over the narrow little rough and winding street of 
the village^ which leans against the mountain ; on the 
left, a yard similar to the first helter% at night, a 



Uibct 179 

she-goat and its kid ; the hack gives a view of the valley, 
which is four hundred yards wide, stony, almost barren, 
between fairly high and gloomy mountains, enlivened, 
however, by a few poor barley-fields and the clear and 
pretty current of the La Chu ; the terrace to the right 
rests upon the main building, the walls of which 
are constructed of flat, unhewn stones. The first 
floor consists of a barn full of straw which opens on 
to the terrace ; above it are (he rooms of our host's 
family. Their large window is fitted with shutters 
of wood painted red and sometimes shows the little old 
wrinkled head of the grandmamma, a very good person 
for a daughter and sister of brigands. As for her 
daughter-in-law, who is one of the beauties of the 
country, I should be pleased to introduce her to you, 
but she left the house, with her children, a few days 
before our arrival. The entrance to the apartments of 
the master of the house is on the street and is reached 
by a wooilen ladder, which leads to a square hull, around 
which the different rooms arc distributed. The recep- 
tion-room is very small and is furnished with a platform 
covered with a piece of felt and a tea-table ; the walls 
arc adorned with somewhat clumsy, faded and peeling 
pictures representing flowers, animals, human figures. 

But let us return to the court-yard : it was a reduc- 
tion of the " Court of Miracles," peopled us it was by 
half a score of beggars in rags and tatters, the staff of a 
mission of the French government, employing its en- 
forced leisure as best it might. Ka/oumoflf chattered 
incessantly ; Parpai mended his clothes ; Tokhtu rubbed 
his bad leg ; the cook, whose work had never been 
intricate, hat! a holiday, for, by the munificence of the 
lamas, we had some solid quarters of beef which hud been 
preserved since the last autumn and which wus eaten 
raw, in thongs, in the Tibetan manner : he employed 
this holiday in hunting his parasites ; the Chinese 



180 trtbet 

secretary, an eminently serious man who had never burst 
into song in his lifej now, seated on the edge of the 
terrace, warbled a tune that would have served to bury 
the devil to ; Mohammed Isa sat squatting in a corner, 
trembling with fear and dressed in a filthy, worn-out 
coat of black cloth, under pretence of mourning, but 
I soon discovered that it was rather from a tear of 
showing his European clothes and I peremptorily made 
him doff his disguise and brine out his English coatee 
adorned with brass buttons, like those worn by the 
soldiers in India : nevertheless, he was perhaps right 
not to tin re to display those buttons, for they are 
usually seen on sturdier breasts, 

The days came, the days went, slow and dreary, void 
of occupation filial with preoccupation, But there is 
nothing so sad but has its comical side, The interlude 
was supplied by our friend the shadso of Labug : one 
day, he sent his lay and clerical delegates to tell us that 
in the treasure of the convent there was a European 
machine which they did not know the use of, but which 
they supposed to be intended for a mincing-machine ; it 
was out of order and the shadso sent word to me that, if 
I would repair it, I should have a great claim on his 
gratitude. I replied that I had an ingenious and skilful 
Russian artisan in my service, who would perhaps be 
able to do what was necessary, They brought us the 
mysterious machine, which proved to be a sewing- 
machine that had come from Russia* In addition, as he 
did not doubt but that we were prepared also to mend 
anything that Europeans know how to manufacture, the 
shadso sent us several objects, instruments or arms out 
of use; an American revolver and cuckoo-clock, a Russian 
fowling-piece, an English telescope, a French watclytlHfr,. 
Swiss musical-boxes. Our court-yard was thus fti|&* 
formed into a workshop and a European museum, which 
attracted all the people of the village, men, women and 



181 

children. The sewing-machine puzzled the idlers, the 
musical-boxes amused them, the telescope, with which 
they saw nothing, hut by means of which they were per- 
suaded that European eyes pierced through the thickest 
mountains, filled them with superstitious respect ; as for 
the cuckoo-clock, no sooner was it in going order than 
it became a popular favourite* It achieved the greater 
success inasmuch as the hands completed the circuit of 
the face in fifteen minutes, which enabled the cuckoo to 
give a larger number of performances to the great joy 
of the spectators. It was curious to see these Tibetans, 
but lately so hostile and infuriated, now so respectful, 
merry, good-humoured, smiling amicably to the unhappy 
foreigners who had just been fighting against their 
brothers. I reflected in how small a measure the ill-will 
which we had since long encountered among these people 
was due to their natural wickedness, but much rather 
to the policy of their lords and masters, a policy of fear 
and sectarian tyranny, which keeps up in every class 
of society a spirit of mutual spying and of universal 
distrust, destructive of all pity und justice. 

From the i6th to the 20th of June, matters made 
no perceptible progress, notwithstanding some conversa- 
tions which I had with delegates from the convent of 
Labug, from Pu Lao Ych and from Yapsaug Tenum. 
However, I prevailed upon them to procure me the 
barley which I considered necessary for my journey to 
Sining and I had it made into tsamba. I debated for a 
moment with myself whether 1 should go secretly with 
my horse and my interpreter to the nearest Chinese 
post of Kfitweh, which was half-way to Tomcnlu and 
about as far as the distance from Milan to Stmsburg. 
By travelling double stages, 1 could reach it in eight or 
nine days, half the time, or a little more, needed for the 
whole journey to Sining* But this post consisted only 
of a very insufficient force of twenty soldiers, commanded 



182 

by a mere lieutenant, who took his orders from the 
Viceroy of Sechuen and hud no authority in the Jyerkundo 
country, which was under the Imperial Legate of Sining; 
also, 1 had no passport for Sechuen. It was a desperate 
expedient which my situation, uncertain though it were, 
did not seem to me to justify : it was better to wait. At 
last, on the 20th of June, Yupsang Tenam came and 
camped with some armed men on the banks of the Do 
Chu and laid definitely before me the conditions upon 
which he was prepared to intervene. These were, first, 
a reward in money for himself; secondly, an under- 
taking given in my own "name, in the name of the family 
of Outreuil de Rhins and in the name of our government 
to forego any further claims if he succeeded in restoring 
the baggage which 1 had lost and in punishing the 
offenders. His object was to avoid any intervention on 
the part of the Chinese, whom the Tibetan,-; prefer to 
know to 1)0 at si distance than to MX close at hand. I 
replied that, as for the money, 1 would gladly give him 
the sum demanded on my arrival at Sinin# (we had not 
in our boxes enough money having local currency) ; that 
I would pay half of that sum if all the papers, documents, 
instruments and collections were restored to us and the 
other half if he brought me the body of Dutrcuil tie 
Rhins ; that, if he succeeded in these two matters and 
furnished me with the means to reach Sin ing, I declared 
myself personally satisfied, but that I could not answer 
for it that our government, even in the supposition that 
all our baggage and our money were restored to ua t would 
refrain front claiming any further reparation or damages ; 
that, in the mutter of the punishment of the offenders, it 
must lake the regular course ; that an act of violence 
must not be atoned for by another act of violence ; that^ 
if the offender* were sentenced on the spot after a regular 
trial, I was not in a pouition to guarantee that there 
would be no appeal to Sluing or Peking ; lastly, 1 



TttbCt 188 

recommended him to use prudence and not to forget 
that it was a question less of waging war than of saving 
manuscripts which a spark was enough to destroy, but 
which nothing could replace. Although my language 
was not entirely to Yapsang Tenam's liking, he did not 
throw up the game : he parleyed with the people of 
Tumbumdo and then, seeing that they were obstinate 
and that they resisted more strenuously than he had 
expected, he sent, on the ijrd, to his own district ibr 
reinforcements, which were to be ready in three days, 
Meanwhile, the tungchen did not enme, in spite of 
his promise, and the superior of Labug (lorn pit sent to 
me to express his astonishment, adding that, if he did 
not come soon, the convent would procure me the 
provisions and animals which I needed for my journey 
to Sining. On the 25^ I at lust saw Pu Lao Yeh, who 
seemed struck with consternation* He bore witness to 
being painfully affected by the calamity that had over- 
come us and by the pitiable condition to which we 
were reduced and showed his regret that the body of 
Dutreuil de Rhins had not been found and that there 
was now no hope of ever finding it. lie added that the 
negotiations with the people of Tumbumdo were no 
further advanced and that, as ill-luck would have it, two 
facts kept alive their obstinacy nnd that of their [xirtmn*. 
In the nrst place, in the fight which had followed on the 
fall of Dutreuil de Rhma, a Tibetan had been killed by 
one of our bullets, which had passed through his chest 
from front to back. I replied that, if that were so, the 
Tibetans had only themselves to btatne ; that, at that 
moment, we were more than ever on the lawful defen- 
sive ; that our enemies, after wounding, or rather killing 
our leader, after recovering possession of their animah, 
after giving us to hope that they would cease hostilities, 
had suddenly renewed their attack with a perfidy that 
doubled the gravity of their crime ; and that, moreover, 



if we had killed one of their men, there was no doubt 
but that the Tibetans would not have failed to take an 
easy revenge when I fell into their hands. 

"They did not know of it then," said Pu Lao Yeh. 
"Also, if they did not kill you, it was not that they did 
not intend to do so, but they pretend that you threw a 
spell over them and that the spirits protected you. In 
any case, I assure you that I have myself seen the dead 
man. Certainly, no one can blame you for it, seeing 
that you were obliged to defend yourselves, and I only 
mention the fact to explain to you the persistent ill- 
will of the people of* Tumbumdo. In the second 
place, the Kakis accuse your leader of having, in your 
absence, ordered or allowed one of their men to be 
shot dead ; here is the petition which I have received 
on the subject ." 

So saying, he showed me, with an embarrassed air, 
a piece of paper half the si/.r of a man's hand, containing 
two linen of writing, without seal or signature. ! replied 
that this story was a contemptible and ridiculous trick, 
an odiou* machination invented by our enemies to make 
some nort of excuse for their conduct by charging 
their victim with an imaginary crime and that any 
difficulties which we had had on the way with ill- 
disposed inhabitants had never degenerated into an 
affray, thanks to the Kpirit of wisdom and modera- 
tion which our leader had never failed to show. And 
I mentioned the incident of the I4th of May,* 
which* distorted in the main and in detail with 
more audacity than skill, had possibly served as 
a groundwork for the fabrication of the charge with 
which they were trying to sully the memory of Uutreui! 
de KhitiH* This incident was, in reality, *o devoid of 
importance that, during the two days which we spent near 
the wot where it happened, we never heard *pe#k of it 



TObet 165 

and that, during the whole of our stay at Jyerkimdo, no 
one said a word to us about it It was not until several 
days after the fight at Tumburndo that the Tibetans had 
thought of employing it to lend colour to the calumnies 
with which they were seeking to palliate their crime. 
There could be no greater proof of the knavery of the 
accusers than the care which they had taken to remove 
my evidence by pretending that the act with which they 
were reproaching Dutreuil de Rhins had been committed 
in my absence, whereas it so happened that, during all 
the time that we were on Raki territory, I had never left 
my leader's side* Lastly, in spite of the indignation 
deserved by the ignominious methods to which the 
Tibetans resorted in their defence, 1 was not without 
deriving a certain satisfaction from them, since they 
proved that our enemies were conscious of the iniquity 
of their conduct at Tumbumdo and that it was im- 
possible for them to lay the blame upon us. 

Pu Lao Yeh did not wait for me to develop the 
whole of my argument before he assured me that he had 
never believed that story and that he recognised in this 
calumny one of the ordinary methods of procedure of 
the natives. He next told me that I must stay another 
fortnight. I observed to him that he had already kept 
me waiting five or six days longer than was arranged 
and this to no good purpose and 1 asked him what he 
proposed to do in that fortnight and if he could promise 
to come to a result of some kind within that time, He 
replied that his authority was too uncertain for him to 
give me any positive assurance ; that I must even not 
cherish too great a hope of obtaining the result by 
which I set the greatest store, for he had been told 
that all the papers were burnt ; but that I knew that 
he was not a rich man and it would take him quite a 
fortnight to get together what I needed for my journey. 
At the same time, he took from his breast a set of twenty 



IHO TObct 

rupees strung together, saying that this was an ornament 
of his wife's which she hud consented to give up to him 
for me ami that it was all that he hud been able to find, 
because his colleague's wife was very miserly and had 
refused to hand over her jewels. The poor man was 
at great pains to play his comedy of /cat and devotion. 
There was no denying that he hud the good intention to 
serve me, but he puffed it to excess and affected this 
great spirit of sacrifice only because he wished to force 
as great a one upon me. I told him that I could not 
accept the money which he offered me ; that I had only 
to say a word to the lama of Labug to have everything 
that 1 mjuiivd ready for me by the next day and that 
I did not me;m to remain much longer, 

Pu Lao Ych had his own reasons for wishing to 
prolong my stay. He dmuled tin- intervention of the 
Imperial legate as much as did the Tibetans, although 
for other reasons : the Tiluluns feared any Chinese 
middling in their affairs, berausc it would be more or 
less prejudicial to their independence ; l*u Lao Yah 
feared that he would be made to bear the responsibility 
for the difficulties from which he hud not succeeded in 
saving his government : that was why he was trying to 
settle thing* as bent he could before the Imperial Legate 
was toll! of them and, if he were forced to admit the 
imtxwsibility of this, he wished at least to be the first to 
inform Sining of the events that hud taken place, so as to 
present them in the most favourable light to himself* 
As for me, I did not cure whether ! found a well or ill- 
informed heari*r at Sining ; besides, I considered that the 
failure nt i'u Lao Ych and his friends to obtain satisfaction 
arose cither from radical impotent*)* or from defective '/cal 
and that, in cither case, it was my business to betake 
myself, with the least possible delay, to the only authority 
capable of removing that impotency or reviving that %tisu. 
I wan kept back only by the hope that Yapsang Tenant'* 



THbet 38? 

efforts might be more effective than those of Pu Lao 
Yeh. I had heard that the latter did not look favour- 
ably upon the lama's attempt. I taxed him with this 
and told him how wrong he was, since he and the 
lama both had the same object in view, adding that, 
if their combined influence and forces succeeded in 
making the people of Tumbumdo yield, the authorities 
at Sining would thank him and he would reap both 
honour and profit, lie protested that he had done 
nothing to impede Yapsang Tenant's action, that he had 
long hud excellent relations with him, and he promised 
me to act in concert with him ii* to the best measures to 
be taken to achieve the desired result and even, as he 
was in the minority among the Taorongpa, to instigate 
a collective intervention of all the Zachukkapa chiefs, I 
replied that, in that case, I would wait patiently. 

The tungchen thereupon left me and went to the 
convent of Labug. He soon returned with horses and 
provisions and told me that we must not reckon on the 
intervention of the Zachukkapa chiefs, that the lama of 
Labug was formally opposed to it and that I must leave 
at once* I retorted curtly that I should leave when 
I pleased. The delegates of the shadso then spoke and 
assured me that their superior was inspired by my own 
interests and those of the cause which I was upholding 
as well as by those of the country as a whole ; that 
he had been in favour of Yapsang Tenam's intervention 
so long as he thought that demonstrations and threat** 
would be sufficient, but that he disapproved and would 
do all in his power to prevent a recourse to arms which 
would provoke a general war, the issue of which would 
be in doubt owing to the strength of the people of 
Tumbumdo and their partisans ; that, on the other 
hand, my departure for Sining would probably make 
the people of Tumbumdo more tractable, because it 
would spare their susceptibilities and allow them to 



188 

appear to be yielding to the Chinese government and 
not to a foreigner and adversary and also because 
they would become more frightened if the intervention 
of the Imperial Legate appeared to them to be more 
imminent. 

This was very well argued and these reflexions 
were the more calculated to convince me inasmuch 
as I had already made them myself and as they came 
from a man to whom I owed everything and with- 
out whom I could do nothing. It would, no doubt* 
have been very picturesque to fling that con4otlitre 
of u Yapsang Tenam with his band of moss-troopers 
against Tumbumdo, to make twenty or thirty native 
chiefs take up arms for or against me, to cause a fine 
break ing of lances and a fine plunder ; hut that was 
not what we had come to Tibet for; we had come to 
work; ami, given the impossibility of doing anything 
for Dutreuil tie Rhins, of even showing him the last 
duties, 1 considered myself fortunate in having been 
able to gather round me all the men of the mission* 
without exception, and my only object now was to 
recover the scientific documents, Now there was always 
the danger that an armed attack would prompt tne 
Tibetans to burn these, if they had not already done 
so. By vexing the only friends of whom I felt certain, 
I risked the chance of setting them against me, of 
depriving myself of al! support and of rushing into a 
new disaster without even having right on my side* 
Nevertheless, I wished to know Yapsang Tenam's 
opinion i that was why I put off my departure; but I 
waited in vain for him to send a messenger to conier with 
me and I could dispatch no one to htm because Tiso 
had been sent on another mission by the tungchetv V 

On the evening of the 2yth, being still without ttW*> 
I decided to start the next day. As 1 wished to arrive 
first and as soon as possible at Sining and ts I wished 



189 

also, out of respect for the memory of my unfortunate 
chief, to carry out the programme of our mission to 
the end as he himself had settled it at Jyerkundo, I 
was resolved, in spite of the danger, to follow the direct 
and unexplored road which skirts the country of the 
Goloks, But 1 did not care for the brigands to he 
told beforehand of my passing and I therefore con- 
tinued to declare to all-comers that I should not start 
before the 301(1 and that I should go through Tsuidam. 
Only, I sent for Pu Lao Yeh and the shatiso's delegates 
and confided my plan to them. They dissuaded me 
eagerly and told me that they wotild not answer for my 
safety except on the Tsaidam road and that they could 
not procure me a guide for the other. I replied that 
my resolution was immovable, that I had no time to 
lose and that I should quite well find my way alone* 
At last, they determined to acquiesce in my plan, 
which, however, was executable, they assured me t 
only if the secret were not rumoured forth too early 
and if 1 marched very quickly. I charged them to 
follow up the question of the restoration of the mission 
documents by every means, even by payment ; J 
especially urged them not to allow themselves to be 
turned from their efforts because they were told that 
the papers had been burnt ; and I made them under- 
stand that, if this rumour were true, the action of 
the Chinese government would be twice as vigorous 
and the punishment twice as severe, i recommended 
them also to resume their search for the body of 
Dutreuil de Rhins and, if they found it, to send it 
to Sining, I undertaking to pay for their outky 
and trouble, They swore that they would do all that 
they could and the best guarantee of their sincerity 
was their desire by a tangible result to prove the truth 
of their zeal and the usefulness of their services to the 
Imperial Legate, who would soon be informed of the 



190 UVbCt 

business and would ask them for an account of their 
action, 

The shadso sent me a letter for his brother, a lama 
in residence at Tongkor Gompa, and a guide, an old, but 
still active man, who had formerly been a merchant} who 
had often made the journey to Si rung by the different 
roads and who, having one clay fallen into the hands of 
the Goloks, had been pillaged, ruined and reduced to 
turning monk. That night, 1 once more saw Tiso, my 
host : Yapsang Tenam had asked him to tell me that he 
saw no objection to my departure ; that, on the contrary, 
matters would probably take a better turn because of it 
and that he would continue to deal with the people of 
Tumbumdo in accordance with my last instructions, 

Although the interference of this lama did not have 
all the success that 1 hoped for, it did, at least, thanks 
to the anxiety which it causal, make my friends the 
tungchcn and the shadso display more liberality and 
a greater eagerness to contribute towards the expenses 
of my journey, I handed Tiso, as a reward tor his 
excellent services, a certain quantify of gold which I had 
found sewn up in the clothes of one of my men and, 
while the village was still sleeping and a little uuivering 
of the air accompanied the first pale rays of tne dawn, 
I left this sad, though hospitable placej where I had 
passed twenty-three days of anguish and mortal weari- 
ness. Notwithstanding the thought of the sufferings 
and dangers that awaited me on this new journey under- 
taken with the slightest possible resources across an 
unknown, mountainous and desert country, infested 
with bands of brigands and as wide as that which 
stretches between Lyons and Florence ; notwithstanding 
my grief at recognising my helplessness and at being 
obliged to leave everything behind me, buried in 
a disaster from which perhaps nothing would ever again 
emerge, I felt a genuine relief from the necessity that 



Efbet 101 

drove me from these parts, to which such cruel and 
gloomy memories were attached. 

We went first towards the north, in order to avoid 
the more populous parts of the turbulent region of 
Zachukka and to give the impression that we were 
making for the Tsaidam road. Shortly after our depar- 
ture, while we were crossing the high hills on the right 
bank of the La Chu, we suddenly suw, at some distance, 
coming in an opposite direction, a troop of thirty or 
forty mounted men armed with muskets and extraordi- 
narily long lances. On seeing us, they stopped and we 
ourselves halted, wondering whal could be the meaning 
of this challenge and whether the road was already 
going to be barred to us. However, I ordered the 
march to be resumed ; the Tibetans, closing up 
their ranks, did the same and passed close to us 
without saying anything. It was the head of the 
canton of Chinto and his escort ; when he learnt who 
we were, he sent two men on horseback to the village 
to forbid the inhabitants to admit us to their houses 
or to supply us with any goods. When we passed 
through this village, which squats humbly and slily 
in a slightly wider portion of a narrow valley, there 
was not a soul outside. 

A little further, we came to where four valleys 
meet, between two monasteries which, instead of 
settling themselves comfortably w the plain by the 
waterside, have taken refuge in the barren ruggedness 
of the mountains : on the right, a Saskyapa convent 
scatters its many-coloured buildings along the side 
of the red hill ; on the left, a reformed and more 
modest convent perches its white walls on a projecting 
rock. Next, going up the Chareh Chu, we passed 
before a village and, a little further, before a long 
array of tents drawn up in line at the bottom of a 
valley, pressed one against the other and surrounded 



m tttbet 

by a wall of stones, high as u man and pierced with 
loop-holes. We felt ourselves to be in u curiously 
ticklish country, plundering or plundered as the occasion 
demanded, at the gate of the Goloks, those mountain 
pirates, and of their advance-guard, the Zach ukkapa. We 
camped, at nightfall, in a deserted cornet- and, the next 
day, a first pass took us into the territory of the short- 
haired Zachukkapa and a second led us from the basin 
of the Do Chu to that of the Za Chu, which is some- 
times called the Za Chu Golok to distinguish it from the 
Za Chu Mekong, The gorges of the basin of the Do 
Chu, its narrow, deep 'and gloomy valleys, with their 
swift and roaring torrents, and its steep, grassy, rounded 
hills were ".ueceeded by the wide, dour and sad valleys, 
the slow and silent rivers, the fl.il :uu! bare hills nf the 
basin of the Zu Chu. On both Mtir, nf tlu- mad stood 
snow mountains, of which those MM the Irti fnrm the 
sources of the river. The country, more barren ami 
doubtless higher, becune <nuiu ( illy lev, populous ; the 
houses were replaced by tent%, which themselves dis- 
appeared on the ^oth of June, when we hud tlu; pletwire 
of seeing the last of them. After crossing the Zn Chu, 
which was fifty yards wide and half u yard Jeep, we went 
up the valley of its affluent, the Clm t'hu, the volume of 
which is very similar* Our delight at finding ourselves 
alone, without alarming neighbours and masters of all 
we survey ed, was spoilt by a very bail storm, which 
dashed hundfuls of hail in our faces* When the wind 
dropped, the hail gave way to ruin and the rain to MIOW, 
We had to lie down in the mud and the little calico 
tent which had been given us prevented us, it is true, 
from seeing the clouds, but not from receiving their 
water, A few men pretended to In* ill, being of opinion 
that ! was going too fust. Indeed, we had far to go 
every day and little to cut. For all our food, we had 
barky-meal mixed with about a tenth part of nund uiul 



Ufbet 193 

gravel to make up the weight, unstalked tea and rancid 
butter; we had also taken two sheep with us, but, as 
they delayed our march, we killed them and carried only 
the best pieces. This was little for ten men, for fifteen 
or, perhaps, twenty days : the more reason to hurry on, 
I said that all laggards would be abandoned without 
pity and forbade every man to turn his head to see if 
anyone was left behind. My threat took effect ; the idlest 
found their legs again and forgot their aches and pains. 

On the rst of July, at the foot of some snow-topped 
mountains, we came to the source of the Cha Chit and, 
in order to cross the not veryJiigh Pachong Pass, we 
splashed through deep, slippery mud strewn with a 
host of great stones, The northern slope was covered 
with snow, sometimes to a height of several feet. As 
the darkness of the night was invading the cold and 
desolate valleys and rugged mountains that surrounded 
us, we camped, again in the rain and snow, on the bank 
of a torrent that ran into the Ma Chu. The next 
day, still in bad weather and in the teeth of the wind, 
we finished the crossing of the chain that separates the 
basin of the Za Chu from that of the Ma Chu, or 
Hoangho, and went down the valley of the Kala Chu, 
which runs into Lake Kala Nam Cho and runs out of 
it again under the name of Kiang Chu. This valley, 
which is two milevS wide, rich in water and grass ami 
peopled with wild yaks, is a sacred valley. It is over- 
looked by the white summit of the Kula Dagseh, the throne 
of a revered spirit, a siJag 9 to whom every traveller must 
do homage, if he would avoid misfortune. On the 
slope of the hills is a little wall of dried ox-dung against 
which, in legendary" antiquity, stood the tent of a 
nymph, or spamo^ the sovereign of these parts and u 
great huntress ; and the traveller who pusses before this 
relic of her wandering palace never fails to bow and to 
mutter a few deprecatory words. 

13 



194 iribet 

On the 3rd of July, the fine weather fortunately 
returned and we crossed the great valley of the Kiang 
Chuj the river of the wild horses. The valley is seven 
miles wide at this spot and stretches for a distance of 
fifty miles from the mountains that rise to the south 
of the Ngoring Cho to the valley of the Ma Chu itself, 
drowned in the mist of the distant horizon. The ground 
is now grass-grown and marshy, for want of a slope to 
drain the water, and now pebbly and barren. We halted 
to take a cup of tea on the bank of the sluggish and 
muddy river, not far from the road which the Goloks 
take when they go for >salt to the Kyaring Cho. Our 
guide told us how, many years before, he was surprised 
by the brigands with his caravan of forty-two men, as 
he was descending the pass which leads from the Ngoring 
Cho to the Kiang Chu, and how the brigands, discharging 
their fire-arms and uttering savage yells to terrify the 
peaceful merchants, had flung themselves upon them 
with couched lances, carried off* the beasts of burden, 
robbed the men of their trinkets and exchanged their old 
clothes against the newer ones of their victims. My 
interpreter, who had long been anxiously examining the 
horizon, suddenly cried : 

"There are the Goloks I " and pointed to a great 
dark, moving mass, strewn with gleaming points, far 
across the plain* 

It was a huge herd of wild yaks, whose horns, shining 
in the sun, looked in the distance like the lances of a 
squadron. We laughed heartily at the coward and 
finished the stage gaily, although the danger was more 
than imaginary ; but we had so little to lose that, had 
the robbers come, themselves would have been robbed- 

On the 4th of July, we came to the brink of a little 
lake hidden in a fold of the mountains on the right bank 
of the Ma Chu and stopped for a few moments, beguiled 
by the charm of the landscape, so rare in this centre of 



IHbet 195 

Asia. The easy slope of the hills was thick with long, 
close, supple grass, such as we had never seen, and, in 
this narrow frame of verdure, the lake smiled sweetly 
under the pure sky. There was no other sound and no 
other movement than a light buzz of insects in the air, a 
light antelope's flight at the bottom of a gorge, the light 
quivering of the ripples shimmering on the surface of 
the water. We would gladly have lingered in this 
peaceful, warm and luminous retreat, which lightened 
some of the burden with which our hearts were weighted. 
But we had to go on, for the road was long and time 
precious. We crossed the Ma t Chu, which, at this spot, 
is a slender river, fifty yards wide and not much more 
than two feet deep. It flows through one of those 
valleys which arc exactly characteristic of this region, 
many miles wide, flat, stretching out as far as the eye 
can reach, resembling the alleys of a classical park 
immensely magnified, even as the mountains which hem 
them in on either side remind one, with their flat, 
monotonous and unending lines, of some classical 
building whose proportions have been enlarged by ex- 
tending it indefinitely. We have here an architecture 
of straight, horizontal lines which takes the place of 
the Gothic architecture, with its broken, perpendicular 
lines, of the basins of the Za Chu Mekong and the 
Do Chu f Allowing for the differences caused by the 
decrease in height (13,000 as against 16,000 to 17,000 
feet) and by the greater display of the mountains, one 
is struck by the resemblance between the appearance 
of this country and that of the Ustun Tagh, even as the 
Pachong La had seemed to me an exact 'counterpart of 
the Karakoram. At more than eight leagues to our left, 
at the end of the valley, rose a great chain of snowy 
mountains in front of which runs the famous road from 
Lhasa to Sining which we had intended to take when 
leaving Nagchu, It passes between the two lakes, 



196 

Kyaring and Ngoring, and is, therefore, constantly 
traversed by bands of the Goloks, on their way to fetch 
salt, which abounds in those lakes and in which they 
carry on a lucrative trade, for they make sure of a 
monopoly in it through the terror with which they 
inspire their neighbours. 

Beyond the valley of the Ma Chu, we climbed a mass 
of mountains, which is wide, but not very high, by a 
series of passes called the Maladun, that is to say the 
Seven Passes of the Ma Chu, although I counted only 
three. On leaving this mass, we dropped into the valley 
of Dug Jong, similar to the last, except that it is almost 
without water and barren, It also opens on the Golok 
country, which, in the distance and almost endlessly, 
displays its lofty mountains, whose whiteness seems to 
evaporate into the sky. The brilliancy of the sun in the 
spacious horizon was very painful to the sight. Our 
guide suffered from it to such an extent that he was 
unable to see the road and that I had to correct his 
mistakes and myself to direct the march across the Dugri 
Mountains by the compass and the appearance of the 
ground. In this way, we arrived exactly at the fork 
formed by our road with that of Lhasa, south of the 
Stongri Cho and north of the Stonga Alacha mountains, 
which must be numbered among the strangest in the 
world, uncommonly rugged and abrupt, slashed and 
jagged and bristling with rocky white crests* After 
passing the southern extremity of the Stongri Cho, the 
road crosses a valley, still very wide, but more broken 
up than the others, which reveals, on the left, a close 
chaos of ugly mountains, bare, grey and dismal, which 
suggest the sands of Gobi and separate us from the 
Mongol country, and, on the right, much further away 
than it seems, a prodigious and resplendent mass of 
snow and ice, which strikes any man, however accus- 
tomed to mountains, with admiration and astonishment* 



TTfbet 10? 

Since leaving the great peak of the Akku Tagh> \vc had 
seen none that presented so marvellous an effect. It 
was the Amyeh Machen, the sacred mountain of the 
Goloks, before which they pray, striking the earth with 
their foreheads, while its redoubtable divinity, who is 
not assimilated by Buddhism, proteets their imlepcr.dence, 
makes their herds increase and prosper and Messes their 
marauding raids. 

We had at last succeeded in crossing without let 
or hindrance the regions generally frequented by th; 
Goloks. On the 7th of July, we found a camp of I'anak 
Tibetans, numbering some ten^c;ulvw the shore of the 
Pcritun Cho. These Tibetans, who wittth their herds 
on horseback, in the Mongolian manner, have a rather 
bad reputation as thieves, but they sire not so t|uan el- 
some as the Goloks ami do not, like these, travel in 
large bands. They were not greatly to he feared, then*- 
fore, and we had only to look after our woods to prottvt 
them. We would have been glad to renew our to,k 
of provisions, which was corning to an end ; but they 
would have none of our rupee's, declaring that they 
accepted only Chinese money. Beyond the Perium 
Cho> the country was once more inhabited, which wemed 
to confirm our guide's statement that these Pawiks hail 
come so far only to escape taxation* 

The appearance of the country had now decidedly 
changed and recalled the Altyn Tagh, with the narrow 
gorges of the Chemorong Chu and Angarong t'hu and 
the deep gash of the Yamatu, similar to that of the rivers 
of Kashgar, When we had passed this lust river, we iul 
twelve miles without finding a drop of water, going first 
through pretty, verdant valleys, studded with tiny flowers 
and scented with fragrant herbs, ami next through ;i 
wide,, flat valley which stretched between dusty hills ami 
which might have been compared pretty correctly with 
the Sanju valley, if it hml hail trees and crops. lit the 



198 Ufbet 

evening, we at last came to the bank of a very modest 
river, the Cheche Chu, where we drank our last cup of tea 
and ate our last pellet of tsamba. This was on the 9th 
of July. Notwithstanding the uncommon swiftness of our 
march, it was less than 1 had reckoned upon, as I had 
expected to reach Tongkor Gompa on the roth, whereas, 
now, the greatest effort could not bring me there before 
the 1 2th. I resolved to make for the nearest habitations 
as quickly as possible and, as there was none on the 
direct road, I resigned myself to lengthening the journey 
by half a day and turned straight towards the Koko Nor. 
Having taken our las* meal, we pursued our way until 
nine o'clock in the evening and camped in the middle of 
a large steppe, having marched for fifteen hours that day. 
Before five o'clock the next morning, we had done half 
a league across the same steppe, which measures over 
twenty-five miles in width and stretches as far as the hills 
which edge the Koko Nor on the south. This dull 
waste, with its sandy clay soil, at one time offers level 
ground, covered with gravel and tall grass, and at another 
is intersected by ravines with perpendicular sides or else 
bristles with earthy, white paps, sometimes with downs, 
We could have believed ourselves back in Kashgar. In 
the middle lies a small lake, the Kongu Nor, with marshy 
banks, infested with mosquitoes, and a little further to 
the north runs a slimy river, the Obeh Chu, a smaller 
reproduction of the Cherchen Daria. We lost two 
horses in the crossing and the men, wearied by the 
unusual effort of the previous day, by hunger, by a 
violent north wind, which raised clouds of dust, arrived 
exhausted at the foot of the hills. We began to climb 
them slowly by a stony ravine, but we still failed to see 
the longed-for smoke, to hear dogs barking or herds 
lowing* To complete our wretchedness, there wast no 
water anywhere : we explored every corner of the 
mountain, but everything was hideously barren and dry. 



ttibet 109 

At last, we discovered in the hollow of a rock a small 
store of the precious fluid, just sufficient to fill all our 
cups. We lay down here. The next morning, a slender 
stream of water was trickling between the stones of the 
ravine. 

We resumed our march and, as \ve went on, the 
water became more plentiful, the hills greener ; ami 
soon we saw, hanging on the mountain-sides, black tents 
similar to those of Central Tibet, but much larger^ 
without being any higher, and measuring as much a> 
50 feet by 30, They were occupied by Panuk Tibetan'-, 
who revived us with cups (if excellent buttered tea 
and agreed to accept three rupees for a sheep; they took 
good care, however, to break one of the rupees to make* 
sure of the quality of the metal. At :i short distance 
further, I met a little Chinese merchant, whom I asked if 
he had any provisions to sell. He said yts, thut he \vnuU 
let me have all that 1 wanted and that I could pay him at 
Sining, where he would be in a fortnight. One hour 
later, he brought me all that I had askeil him for t 
apologising for not being able to do more* I never saw 
him again nor was I able to learn who he was or what 
had become of him. 

These mountains to the south of the Kciko Nor arc 
comparatively very populous ami the pastures which 
grow richer and richer as one approaches the lake, teed 
great herds of excellent horses of Mongolian breed and 
of fine red cows like those of Europe. On leaving the 
hills, one emerges on a grassy plain, sloping gently 
towards the immense lake, which i nvcrtowereJ* far 
away in the north, by snow mountains. This lake, which 
the Mongols, with their usual poverty of imagination, 
have called simply the Blue Lake, is not by a long 
measure so picturesque as the Num Cho or a large 
number of other Tibetan lakes, for it is not *o well 
framed and decorated with mountain* ; the scenery in 



200 ttfbet 

empty and spacious ; but, on the other hand, it is in- 
finitely less wild and rugged, infinitely more friendly 
towards man, who, under the genial warmth of the sun, 
feels much more at his ease here. In the middle of 
the water stands a little barren rock, used as a dwelling- 
place by four or five solitary lamas, who never go on 
land and who receive their provisions in the winter 
only when the lake is frozen ; for there are no boats 
on the Koko Nor- This eyot is sanctified by legend, 
according to which it was brought by a divine bird to 
close the orifice through which the water, coming from 
the place where Lhasa *jow stands, poured and trans- 
formed the meadow into a lake. 

Along the Koko Nor, the traveller comes across 
numerous tents, some of which are of felt and round, 
like those of the Mongols: they are never pitched on 
the plain, but take shelter at the foot of the mountain 
and hide away in the dales, so that they rarely catch the 
eye of the wayfarer. On the I2th, we joined the Tsaidam 
road again and, on the I3th, we once more came 
upon the old Lhasa road. On the same clay, we arrived 
at the gorge of Tongkor Gompa, which is very deep, 
steep and rocky. At the bottom, by the water's brink, 
grew a cluster of shrubby trees, the first that we had 
seen for eleven months, that is to say since leaving 
Cherchen. This was to us an undeniable emblem 
of civilisation. On the slope of the rocks stood the 
monastery buildings, built in the Chinese style, one 
of which served the Labug convent as a hostelry, a 
warehouse for goods and a residence for its representa* 
tive, who was an own brother of the shadso. The little 
brother was not worthy of the big one : he was short 
and fat, with an apoplectic face and unruly mpve- 
ments. He had drunk a good drop of brandy that 
morning and received us with enthusiasm ana with 
tears in his eyes. The next day, having recovered his 



Cfbet 201 

composure, he was more reserved, but nevertheless lent 
me some fresh horses and some money. We descended 
swiftly to Tongkor by a carriage-road, feeling, in spite 
of the terrible memories that kept on coming to the 
surface, the immense relief of thinking that an en- 
thralling, ungrateful, interminable tusk was ended at 
last, From every side, the waters of the rivers and 
brooks ran softly murmuring ; the abrupt sides of the 
mountains were divided into fields' of crops of different 
colours; the valleys were strewn with villages with white 
houses surrounded by green trees; a large number of 
Chinese came and went, busy, Active am! culm, looking 
so refined and graceful by comparison with those 
rude and rough Tibetans ; and the carriage-wheels 
grated, the horses neighed, the dofjs barked, the cocks 
crowed Life and plenty had followed upon scarcity ami 
death. 

At mid-day, the walls of Tongkor came in si^ht, 
marking their geometrical square and their regular 
battlements among the confused and disordered lines 
of the mountains. Pert* Hue gives us an animated 
and picturesque description of this town which leaves 
the impression of something singularly tierce and 
gloomy. The reality, on the contrary, gave me 
an impression of brightness ami gaiety ; this wun 
because Pere Hue came out of the light, whereas 1 
came out of the shadow, and, us the Persian poet says, 
"To the houris of paradise, purgatory is a hell ; but ask 
the damned in hell: purgatory is a paradise!" Thcne 
truculent Tibetans, whom the good father depicts for u* 
in the streets and inns of Tongkor with their awords 
stuck in their belts, their shaggy hair> their repulftive 
dirtiness, their proud gait, their abrupt gesture.*, their 
loud voices and their fierce glances, are, in fact* quiet 
people enough, even somewhat timid, because they feel 
that they are among stranger*, a little awkward in their 



202 ttfbet 

Sunday clothes ; people who have washed, combed, 
decked themselves out to make themselves presentable 
in a polished town, who make it their business to appear 
elegant and well-mannered, as is seemly in the noble 
neighbourhood of a sub-prefect of the august Emperor ; 
and if, sometimes, they shout and make a noise, this does 
not mean that they wish anybody mortal harm, but that 
they are amusing themselves, that they are gay and 
merry and that they want everybody to know it. Pre 
Hue compared them with the Chinese ; I compared 
them with themselves and I was pleased with them for 
their efforts to clean and polish themselves. For that 
matter, the Tibetans are far from being in a majority at 
Tongkor, which is, above all, a town of Dungans and 
Chinese and, although those Chinese inhabitants are not 
the flower of China, they were a change after the 
Tibetans. I saw the sub-prefect and the colonel, who, 
knowing nothing as yet, were greatly astonished and 
touched at the piteous state in which I was and at the 
catastrophe of which we had been the victims ; they 
showed me a very genuine sympathy and did me every 
service that lay in their power, during the few hours that 
I spent in their town. 

On the next day, the I5th of July, at five o'clock 
in the evening, I passed through the west gate of the 
town of Sining, which at first appeared to me a very 
imposing, bustling, noisy, populous city, and I was a 
little deafened by the tumult that reigned in its narrow 
streets. The inns were full of people and I had to 
instal myself provisionally in a miserable tavern, than 
which I had seen none worse in the whole course of 
my journey, I at once sent my curd to the Imperial 
Legate (Kincka)^ Koei Choen, My arrival and the sad 
news which 1 brought made a great sensation in the 
Yamen : a number of functionaries and officers, with the 
prefect at their head, came to call on me that same 



Cibct 203 

evening and, seeing my lodging, at once had the best 
inn in the town evacuated ami placed it at my disposal. 
On the 1 6th, I had an interview with the Imperial 
Legate, who received me with great honour. His face 
betrayed the profound agitation into which he was 
thrown by the tragic and unexpected nature of the 
affair in question, the grave responsibility which it 
caused him to incur, the vexation which it promised 
him. He was quite overcome, he kept his eyes lowered 
or raised them only with an effort, he spoke in a low, 
very gentle and uncertain voice* After expressing to 
me, with emotion, hh sorrowful concern in my great 
misfortune and his intense regret that the event 
had not permitted him to receive Dutreuil de Rhins 
with the honours that were due to him after so 
long and arduous a journey, he decided to go in 
person to Lanchow in order to telegraph to the govern - 
ment in Peking, to arrange with the Viceroy as to 
the best steps to be taken and to obtain from him the 
necessary resources and soldiers for an armed expedition 
to Tumbumdo. Alone, indeed, he wu able to do 
nothing, for he had hardly any money, and disposed of 
no troops except a few Mongols encamped in their own 
country and armed with bows and arrows, 

In the meantime, I made him at once send two of hi-^ 
interpreters to Jycrkumlo to recall the two interpreters 
on service, Pu and Li; to carry a mandarin's button, 
with the official thanks of the Imperial Legate, to the 
superior of the convent of Labug, in recognition of the 
assistance which he had jfivcn me ; to order the body 
of Dutreuil de Rhins, if it could be found, to be 
conveyed to Sining ; and to call upon the people of 
Tumbumdo to restore the lost baggage and, especially, 
the papers. I hoped that the Tibetans, on receiving 
the direct and express orders of the Imperial Legate, 
knowing that he was determined to act and to treat 



204 

them with rigour and thinking that perhaps they would 
escape more lightly by making an easy concession, would 
no longer persist in their refusal. I was right ; but, as 
the interpreters took the high-road through Tsaidam 
and, in spite of the orders of the Imperial Legate and 
the pecuniary encouragement which I gave them, 
travelled by short stages, I did not hear of the partial 
success of their mission until I reached Peking. In 
addition to this, the Imperial Legate advanced me, even 
before I asked for it and not only promptly, but 
abundantly, all the money that I needed, so that I 
sent back my guide tfr Labug, in the company of a 
caravan which was going there, with letters for the lama 
and the tungchen, money to refund their outlay and 
various presents. 

Meanwhile, I had explored every corner of the 
town of Sining, which is small enough, in spite of the 
number and importance of the dignitaries whom it 
shelters. Its walls, which are higher than those of 
Khotan and which look dignified with the dark colour 
which the years have given them, form a quadrilateral 
of four thousand by two thousand feet, containing a 
population of about fifteen thousand inhabitants. In 
this figure I include the garrison, which consists of 
three thousand soldiers on paper, although the effec- 
tive force does not exceed fifteen hundred men, the 
pay of the other fifteen hundred going to swell the 
salary of the very amiable general or division, the 
commandant of the place* Without the walls lies a 
considerable suburb, peopled almost exclusively by 
Moslems, to the number of nearly ten thousand. 
These are distinguished at first sight from the rest of 
the population by their little caps, which are polygon^ 
instead of being round ; by their generally tftller 
stature ; by their very prominent features, their^ firmer 
and manlier gait, their brisker movements > their bold 



tlibet 205 

glance and an air of turbulence and bravado that beram 
their impatience of the yoke. They rake little trouble" 
to conceal their contempt for the Chinese infidels or 
their sympathy for the Europeans On the secern! 
day after my arrival, some of their notable* and 
mollahs came to offer me their condolence and 1 ha.l 
always every reason to be satisfied with them and with 
their correligionists in the other parts of China, 

The little streets of the town are generally calm an,i 
lonely, frequented by rare pedestrians picking their way 
through the mud, the tilth and the dogs and lined by 
low, bare walls, with hardly an}^ windows to them, for 
the Chinese lodgings are lighted most often from the 
inner court-yards* Only in one or two streets which 
have shops drawn up on either mdc is there an animated 
crowd, a crowd in which an occasional wild and discord- 
ant note is struck by a thick-set, stupid-looking Mongol, 
with a face shining with grease, or a more slender, but 
still very clumsy Tibetan. The great number of saddlers 
felt-makers and sellers of hides, skins and furs indicate 
the neighbourhood of a nation of horsemen, herdsmen 
and hunters; but, close at hand, in the carpenters' .shops, 
those great displays of substantial coffins, giving out ;t 
good smell of dry wood and presenting tlieir inviting 
and comfortable interiors to the public, recall old 
China, sedentary and slumbering in the coffin of her 
traditions, 

I will speak here neither of the trade of Sining 
town nor of its monuments. 1 shall have occasion to 
return to the former in the second part of this* work 
and, as for the monuments, it is unnecessary to enlarge 
upon them, for all the buildings in China are but repe- 
titions one of the other and are more remarkable and 
more imposing for the vast extent of their inner courts, 
which follow one another in long rows, than for the 
effect of the architecture, which is heavy and us it were 



206 

crushed under the excessive development of the roofs. 
The insignificance and ugliness of the human construc- 
tions are atoned for, in a certain measure, by the beauty 
of the site. The valley in whose bottom the town 
stands opens, in its bright and happy grace, like a basket 
of verdure and fruit, between high hills whose natural 
ruggedness is modified by a few crops and a few trees 
scattered over their sides. They are not so near as to 
interfere with the free effusion of the light nor so far 
that one is unable from any part of the valley to 
distinguish the details of their structure. What remains 
of their barrenness, t^he steep red rocks that every- 
where pierce through the thin vegetal layer, reminds the 
traveller of the proximity of Tibet ; but he feels very 
far removed from that country of poverty when he sees 
at the foot of the rocks and thrown into relief by them 
that flourishing champaign covered with kitchen-gardens, 
with wheat, barley and millet. Although the fertility 
of the soil is not very great in itself, he is nevertheless 
driven to admire it, when he reflects that he is at a 
height of 7,400 feet, that is to say far above the 
extreme point reached by the coarsest crops in our own 
alpine regions. 

Here and there the picturcsquencss of the hill-slopes 
is increased by the varnished roof of a Buddhist temple 
and one might think that the religion of Sakya Muni 
reigns over men's souls , even as his temples command 
the valley ; but, on climbing the path that leads to the 
sanctuary, one discovers that it is abandoned, almost 
without worship or worshippers. A custodian alone 
keeps watch over the chapel which contains the gods of 
bronze or of striped and gilded wood : in the middle 
sits Buddha, grave and culm, with his long mustaches 
drooping after the fashion of a Chinese mandarin, 
himself tearing the stamp of a dull serenity, as though 
he felt> from the destitution to which mankind has 



tttbet 207 

condemned him, that the end of time is at hand ; on 
either side stand the spirits whose mission it is to 
destroy the infidels : they are gigantic and grotesque, 
armed from head to foot ; they roll furious eyes and 
show fierce teeth : vain grimaces which there is none 
here to see or fear. Around the chapel are disposed 
clean and well-paved courts, well-constructed buildings, 
bathed in the warm light of the sun, cooled by a vivi- 
fying breeze, and, from the outer galleries, the view 
embraces the whole landscape, in its severe frame of 
mountains, and looks down upon the valley, upon the 
watered-silk ribbons of the rivers and brooks, upon the 
check mantle of the fields dottul with houses and with 
clusters of white flowers, upon the grey walls of the 
town, which, from this height, resembles a town of 
dwarfs. This charming abode ought to be peopled with 
monks, but the hostility of the Confucian administration 
and the steady indifference of the populace tend to 
keep it empty : in the air, which ought to drone with 
pious orisons, the only sound was that of a profane 
lute, twanged by a Chinese, the one inhabitant of the 
place besides the watchman. He was a consumptive 
patient^ who had been recommended by the doctors to 
Dreathe the pure air of the hills and who had come 
to spend the fine season in this deserted convent. 
At the moment of my visit, he had taken shelter from 
the heat of the day in a charming, verdant summer- 
house, beside a pond of clear water, and, to huntcn 
the flight of time, was accompanying on his instru- 
ment the shrill and quavering song of one of his 
friends, who had come up to enquire after him. The 
Buddhist monasteries of China are not only country 
refuges for the use of convalescents : they serve also 
as pleasure-resorts for the townsmen, who often send 
one of their cooks to prepare a good dinner for a troop 
of merry table-companions in one of these charming 



208 

retreats so well-suited to promote g:iy conversation and 
a good digestion.* 

Very different from this is the famous monastery 
of Skubum, a really Tibetan monastery, dependent 
administratively upon the Imperial Legate. It is the 
most celebrated of the convents of Kansu and the most 
important after that of Lhabrang, It is separated from 
Sining by an easy road of seventeen miles, following a 
little tributary ot the river, which leads first to a small, 
bustling village, full of shops anil inns, of merchants and 
pilgrims, purveyors and clients of the monastery, I 
there met a lama doctor whom 1 had already seen at 
Tongkor, an old man with a lively anil prepossessing air, 
si voluble talker and a curious type of adventurer. A 
native of JLudak, he had left that country many years 
since, to escape creditors who put forth exorbitant 
pretensions to be paid. He had shaved his head, placed 
the threatened remnants of his fortune in a bag, girded 
up his loins and, saddling a stout hack, had set out with 
a light heart for Lhasa, where he arrived as a devout 
pilgrim as well an an unscrupulous debtor* Received 
as a monk and furnished with the Dalai Lama's blessing, 
he studied medicine at the same time as theology, visited 
the principal sanctuaries of Tibet, travelled through 
Nopal, Kashmir and a portion of India, made a long 
stay in Turkestan and in Mongolia, where he followed 
the trade of a horse-dealer, pushed on his peregrinations 
as far as China and Eastern Tibet and then, beginning to 
feel the weight of age, settled down at Tongkor, I do 

* There exist* a fallacy, difficult to uproot that China belongs to 
the Uuddhiwt religion. Aa a matter of fuel, there to a, fairly large 
number of Buddhist monks in China; but there J no BudtlhiHt popula- 
tion. The case in the mime with the majority of the nation* which the 
fancy of the Htatit*ticiim include*) among the votartett of BiuUlhu. In 
point of realty Buddhbt nation*, I know only the Mongol* and the 
Tibetan*, or Icsa than mx millions of people (/. my " Scientific Motion 
In Upper A#Ia/' Vol. I., pp. 378-380). 



Htfcet 309 

not mean to say that he kept the house, for he was 
still very active. To-day, he was at Tongkor; to-morrow, 
he was seen at Sining; and, soon, at Skubum or Lhabrang, 
on the banks of the Koko Nor or at the gates of the 
Great Wall, with the Salar Moslems or the Tsaidam 
Mongols. He travelled by hill and dale, in the stone 
cities or the woollen tents, atoning for his lapses from 
his monastic vows by frequent devotions at the most 
reverenced sanctuaries, gathering simples, selling prayers 
and incantations, prescriptions and remedies, spices and 
tea, stuffs and horses and, in general, all that was to be 
sold at a profit. He knew how to read and write his 
mother-tongue, was fairly well-vSrscd in Tibetan literature, 
spoke the Turkic and Mongolian languages decently, 
jabbered Hindustani and murdered Chinese, Ever 
ready to serve me, he cured me of a painful cramp 
in the stomach by means of a certain black powder of 
his compounding, gave me many particulars about the 
countries which he had visited ana tried to sell me a 
one-eyed horse with a cracked saddle. The variety of 
the nations which he had seen and the manners which he 
had observed had singularly enlarged his ideas and his 
theology smacked of heresy. He expressed to me his 
opinion, based upon a great abundance of arguments, 
that the three religions the Buddhistj the Christian and 
the Moslem were, at bottom, only one and the same 
religion, laying down the same rules of morality, and 
that Sakya Muni, Jesus and Mohammed were prophets 
inspired by one and the same divinity, who bears 
different names Sangy6, God the Father or Allah a 
divinity one in its essence, but infinitely varied in it$ 
attributes, a principle from which everthing emanates 
to which everything must return : 

"In short/* said he, "the difference betwee.- 
three doctrines lies in this, that the Buddhists look 
the divinity as immanent in all nature, which is 

14 



210 ZHbet 

a perceptible and hence illusory manifestation of the 
supreme Intelligence, whereas the Christians and the 
Moslems, with their narrow and precise minds, consider 
God as a Being distinct from all the others and outside 
nature, although He is infinite. Now this is a contra- 
diction, for, if God be distinct from other beings and 
outside nature. He is necessarily limited by them and it, 
In the same way, the Christians and Moslems think 
that God wished for the creation of the world and that 
this creation pleased Him, that He is offended by bad 
actions and gladdened by good ones, that He desires the 
conversion of sinners: and yet they add that He is 
perfect. These, again, arc two contradictory proposi- 
tions, for a desire is an aspiration after that which is 
wanting ; now, if God be perfect and absolute, He can 
want for nothing : therefore He can desire nothing nor 
foci cither joy or sorrow.*' 

And the worthy man wiped his forehead with his 
wide red sleeve ; for he spoke with heat. 

The monastery, which is in a lateral ravine, is not 
visible from the village. You have to go round a pro* 
jection of the mountain before you can catch a vague 
glimpse, through the trees, on the slope of the hills, 
which are hollowed out like a cradle, of a few pieces of 
wall, rising in storeys one above the other, and the gUt 
roof of the great temple. This wild and towering site 
was chosen expressly, according to the Buddhic custom^ 
to show how greatly superior to the worldly life, which 
seethes in the plains, is the religious life, which blows on 
the uplands, in a purer air, untrodden by the crowd, 
where man is freer, more the master of his soul and his 
destiny, delivered from the slavery of earthly relations^ 
interests and passions and by so much the nearer to the 
divinity as he is further from the vulgar herd it* 
ignorance and its blindness and more wrapped up in 
silence and calm, which are the forerunners of eternal 



ttibet 211 

peace. When you have passed through the entrance- 
gate, you see a large number of different, scattered 
buildings, large and small, chapels or dwellings of lamas, 
so that this monastery resembles a village. Three 
thousand five hundred monks live here, each in his own 
room or house and each on his own money ; for the 
community supplies its members with only a piece 
of woollen stuff and a certain quantity of barley per 
year and with three measures per day of buttered tea, 
which is prepared in colossal cauldrons on huge cooking- 
ranges. 

Among the visitors, some of whom receive the 
hospitality of the convent m return for their pious 
donations, the Chinese are remarkable by their scarcity ; 
on the other hand, people come from every corner of 
Tibet and Mongolia, even from British Tibet and 
Russian Mongolia. They all seemed very devout and 
very much occupied in prostrating themselves and burn- 
ing lamps before the sacred images or in turning 
round the sacred edifices. I saw, however, a Mongolian 
lama who was abominably drunk and who was still hold- 
ing in his hand one of those little tin cups which serve to 
measure brandy, The figures which he described as he 
walked scandalised some and roused laughter in others, 
He greeted me in Russian as he passed and I was not 
vey proud that the first words that I hud heard for a long 
time in a European language should come from such a 
mouth. But for how much did this imperfect fact count 
beside all the perfections acquired and heaped up in thin 
great prayer-factory ? On every side, banderoles covered 
with religious inscriptions streamed in the wind, rows of 
cylinders, large as barrels and full of mystical invocations 
and sacred formulas, turned on an axis, driven by hand, 
uttering numberless orisons. It is a pity that steam- 
engines have not made their way so far ; by their 
means, a much greater output could be secured and 



212 THbet 

perhaps it would become possible to counteract the 
terrifying sum-total of -imperfections, which increases 
day by day and which, for some years, has been visibly 
dragging poor humanity into a circle of ever more 
deplorable ills, 

In one of the principal temples, glittering with a 
multitude of lighted lamps, perfumed with the smoke 
from the censers, several hundreds of monks were 
assembled, chanting the divine office in a double choir 
and presided over by a mitred and crosiered chief 
lama. In the last row and alone in the middle aisle 
was an old monk, kneeling on the bare flags, with bent 
head, motionless : feeling his approaching end, he had 
resolved to give up his personal property and to divide 
it between the coffers of the convent and his poor 
colleagues, in order to spend the rest of his days in 
meditation and privations and, having nothing more in 
this world, to hoard up an inexhaustible treasure for the 
next. A large court beside the chapel was filled with 
children, with novices learning their lessons aloud under 
the direction of professors. When school was over, 
the noisy and restless band filled all the space around, 
crowded about me to look at me and prevented me from 
passing ; but a disciplinary prefect came up with a great 
whip at the end of his bare arm and all the Tittle 
friarlings flew off hurriedly and laughing* 

At last, we came to the marvel which has made 
Skubum famous throughout the world. In the small 
court-yard of a chapel stood a few shrubs * of which 
the bark and even the leaves were studded with 
Tibetan characters. According to the legend spread in 
Europe by P&re Hue and widely diffused among the 

* The tamaa have it that thene shrub* are sandal-tree*, fthrub* held 
acred by the Buddhiat*. The talieat ii ju*t about tan feet high; th* 
leave* AT* lanceolate and not very sharp-pointed. There arc no hrub 
like thm to the country. 



tttbet 213 

Buddhists of Asia, these letters were formed spon- 
taneously by some unknown mysterious influence. 
At first sight, I thought that they had been artificially 
carved by means of a knife, although the incisions 
were neither very clear nor very fine ; but the two 
lamas who accompanied me said that it would be 
considered a sacrilege to apply the steel to these 
revered trees, for they grow upon the exact spot where 
the great reformer Tsongkapa was born and it wus the 
very blood which escaped from his mother's womb that 
fertilised the soil and gave birth to the first of these 
trees, from which the others sprang. For this reason, 
childless women come to this place to pray and lick the 
ground at the root of the tree that stands in the centre 
of the court : it is an infallible remedy for barrenness. 
The lamas went on to say that, in order the better to 
assert the miraculous origin and virtue of these plants, 
the monks had, with their finger-nails, traced religious 
characters on the trunks and leaves, I told them what 
I had heard said of these characters, that they were the 
result of a miracle and appeared upon the new leaves 
without any human intervention. They told me that this 
was a fable, born in the imagination of clumsy people 
given to exaggeration and to attributing a marvellous 
character to everything at random, 

" However/' they said, " the legend is based upon 
fact : the first shrub that grew on this spot, immediately 
after the birth of Tsongkapa, did bear letters proclaiming 
the divine mission of the child. This shrub, which is 
much smaller than those which you see here, is preserved 
to-day inside the temple with the gold roof and none 
is allowed to see it except the loftiest incarnations of 
Buddha. It is related that letters appeared upon it 
new leaves in divine circumstances, but the impioumiess 
of the age has withdrawn the favour of heaven from 
us and the sacred tree is dumb/' 



2H 

This golden-roofed temple, so jealously closed, stands 
in the centre of the monastery and contains one half 
of the body of Tsongkapa's father, whence the name 
of Skubum> which means mausoleum. This was the 
only portion of the convent which the lamas were able, 
by dint of entreaties, to save from pillage and ruin at 
the time of the Moslem revolt of 1862. All the other 
edifices are, therefore, of recent date and, at the time 
of my visit, the monks were still engaged in building. 
Among the masons and carpenters, I observed a large 
number of Moslems, men of acknowledged skill, who 
were only too pleased to earn money in the service 
of the idolaters and who considered themselves free to 
destroy what they had done so soon as the occasion 
offered. 

I here end my narrative, sparing the reader the 
Htory of the 1,532 miles which I had still to travel on 
horseback in order to reach Peking, where I arrived on 
the 1 6th of December 1894. Nor will I enlarge upon 
the negotiation!* which, thanks to the good offices of 
the Viceroy of Kunsu and of the Imperial Legate of 
Sining, backed up by the firm and persistent action of 
ML Girard, at that time French Minister in Peking, 
ended by bringing about the restoration of the docu- 
ments of the mission and, later, in consequence of a 
Chinese military expedition, the punishment of four of 
the Tibetans who were most deeply compromised in the 
crime of Tumbumdo, The head of one of them was 
set up on the gate of Sining* Unfortunately, it wa<* 
impossible to touch the superior of the convent of 
Tumbumdo, whom I have always regarded as the real 
culprit* 



PART THE SECOND 

A GENERAL VIEW OF TIBET AND 
ITS INHABITANTS 



CHAPTER I 

A DESCRIPTION OF THE COUNTRY AS A \VIIOLh 
The region of the lakesThe region of the rivm, 

TIBET occupies the most enormous and the highest mass 
of mountains in the world, Bounded roughly by the 
Dapsang peak on the west, the towns of Skardo and 
Simla, the chain of the Himalayas, Likiang, Tasicnlu, 
Sungpan, the monasteries of Lhabrang and Skubum, 
the Koko Nor, the Kyaring Cho and the Baycn Kara, 
Akka Tagh and Ustun Tagh Mountains, it affects the 
shape of an immense shoe, or, geometrically speaking, of 
a trapezium with elliptical sides, It measures 1,600 
miles in its greatest length between Skardo and 
Sungpan, 250 miles in its shortest width from the 
Karakoram Pass to the banks of the Sutlej and 800 in 
its greatest width between the Koko Nor and thr 
southern bend of the Takiang or Blue River, Its total 
superficial area is considerably more than a million 
square miles, covered by a series of snowy mountain- 
chains, which are gathered up on the meridian of the 
Karakoram into a narrow sheaf, spread out towards the 
east in the shape of a fan, turning north and south, and 
then close up ag^in, turning in the opposite direction* 
Physically, Tibet is divided into two parts, the lake 
region and the river region, which surrounds the former 
on three sides in a semi-circle. The lake region, which 
extends between Lake Pangong, the sources of the Indus, 

217 



218 

the Dam Larkang La, the sources of the Salwen and the 
Blue River and, lastly, those of the rivers of Turkestan, 
takes the form of an axe, having a width of 200 miles 
at the handle-end, on the side of Lake Pangong, 450 at 
the other extremity and a length of 700 miles, and 
covers a surface equal to that of France. As this part 
of Tibet is the furthest from the sea, atmospheric 
precipitations are rarer here than elsewhere, the climate 
is exceedingly dry and the rivers are unable to acquire 
enough power to overcome obstacles and to force a way 
to the sea. The mountain-chains are widely spread, 
rounded, ill-jointed anfl separated by almost level 
valleys,* similar to the Pamirs, at a considerable absolute 
altitude, but fairly lower than that of the summits. 
There is no sufficiently determined general slope to 
enable the waters to collect into rivers ; the streams and 
torrents run into numberless lakes, scattered in every 
direction like the fragments of a broken mirror. The 
draining of the waters receives so little assistance that 
the ground, except on the declivities, is entirely soaked 
in water, which is frozen and solid during eight 
months of the year and muddy and shifting in the 
heart of summer, exactly as in the Siberian tundra, 

No other country in the world has a like mean 
altitude with a similar surface* This mean altitude is 
over 16,500 feet, the valleys being at 14,500 to 
1 7,400 feet, the peaks at 20,000 to 24,600, the ptte$ 
at 16,400 to 19,000. The northern part of this region 
is the highest : the valleys there are never lower than 
15,800 feet ; and the temperature is very severe, rising 
with difficulty, in summer, to 15 or 16 degrees at "~ 
o'clock in the afternoon and falling to zero or " 
night: in winter, a sharp cold rages of 40 
more. Vegetation is almost non-existent and 

*Tht* are the valleys called tang fa Tibetan, *s oppo**4 to fifr^, 
an *tabftkl vsiltoy or 




Zibet 219 

as grows is never green. The Tibetan herdsmen do 
not come to pitch their tents there. To the west of the 
8oth degree of longitude, they go as far as a little to 
the north of the 34th parallel, but to the east they 
venture only a little beyond the 33^ in the warm 
season and remain below the 3 2nd in winter. 

That portion of the lacustrine reign which extends in 
an elliptical segment between Lake Pangong and the 
Nam Cho, along the itinerary of Nain Singh, being more 
to the south and a little less high (15,000 feet on an 
average) is more habitable and even contains a few 
poor market-towns built of stone* such as Rudok, Ombo 
and Senja Jong. It is almost quite unsuited to cultiva- 
tion, there are no trees in it and, at best, a few pastures of 
shottj hard grass in the midst of absolutely barren wastes. 
The waters are more abundant and seem to wish to 
unite into rivers, without, however succeeding. This 
is a transition zone. Further south, after crossing the 
southern chain of the Nam Cho, the transformation is 
complete. There, in the same way as in the west and 
east, the so to speak shapeless mountainous mass which, 
like a donjon, commands the centre of the Asiatic conti- 
nent, becomes articulated, diversified, fashioned. The 
climate Is less dry, provides more moisture and assists the 
erosive work of the waters, which have hollowed out 
deep valleys and found a course towards the sea. Thus 
great rivers have taken birth ; the Indus, the Sampo or 
Brahmaputra, the Salwen, the Takiang, the Mekong, the 
Hosmgho. Near the sources, the appearance of the 
mmfty changes but little : we have still the same wide 
valleys, very high and inhospitable to life. At the 
sources of the Blue River, the country is uninhabited 
and the Tibetans do not take their herds beyond a 
broken line drawn from the extreme north-west of the 
Kko Nor and passing through the Stongri Cho, 
tlie .Ngoring Cho, the source of the Mekong and the 



220 

Tang La Pass. Between the Tibetans and the Mongols 
lie desert marches which grow narrower as we go 
further east, that is to say as the ground becomes 
lower, so that, on the northern banks of the Koko 
Nor, the two peoples touch and intermingle. In Eastern 
Tibet, the vegetation, very scarce and poor, begins 
to appear at a line drawn from Dam (14,400 feet) 
to Labug Gompa (12,400 feet); then, a little more 
to the south still, the mountain-slopes beconie clad 
with mean and thinly-scattered timber : juniper-trees, 
tamarisks, willows, pines and firs, cedars, elms. The 
more we go towards tfce east, the closer the mountain- 
chains come together, narrowing the valleys, the ground 
of which falls lower and lower without any notable 
decrease in the height of the summits, so that the country 
bristles with very tall mountains, steep, rocky, difficult to 
climb, which leave between them only a series of very 
restricted spaces for pasture and agriculture. Neverthe- 
less, as we go lower, we see the crops improve, the forests 
thicken, the villages become more numerous until, at last, 
when we leave the Tibetan prison-house, at the border 
of the Chinese country, the valleys do not go above 
8,200 feet, arc fertile, produce wheat, vegetables, fruits, 
even grapes, pomegranates, rice in the more southern, 
such as Batang, and important towns arise Batang, 
Darchado, Sungpang, Tongkor where the two ethnical 
elements, the Chinese and the Tibetan, clash and mingle 
together. On the west, towards Ladak, we see the 
same contraction of the mountain folds, the same deep 
and narrow valleys, separated by enormous rocky walls; 
only, the altitude remains higher, the vegetation is 
thinner and there are no trees. The southern zone of 
Tibet, formed of the basin of the Sampo-Brahmaputr% 
is the most favoured by nature. The valleys are generally 
a little wider and their greater proximity to the equator 
permits rice, apricots and jujuoes to be grown at an 



221 

altitude of 11,500 feet It is here that the most 
important towns in the country are built; Shigatse, 
Lhasa, Gyangtse. 

Tibet is a hard and miserly land which only grudg- 
ingly yields a little bread to the men who inhabit it. 
The wildest cantons of Switzerland are as pleasure 
parks beside it. In whatever part of it one may 
be, one is surrounded by heights which the snow 
never leaves, lashed by violent and piercing wimis, 
exposed to arctic colds. The appearance of the scenery 
is austere, monotonous, overwhelming, thanks to the 
hugeness of the proportions, and seldom enlivened 
by the least touch of fugitive grace. Life there 
would be almost insupportable if the sky and the water 
were not clear. Such a country as this could even 
less easily than Turkestan be the cradle of a brilliant 
civilisation; it was destined only to serve as a refuge 
for some race wanting in ordinary intelligence ; and, in 
fact, the Tibetan people have never achieved more than 
an indifferent culture, a pale reflection of the civilisations 
of China and Hindustan* The Tibetan writers them- 
selves have had the rare modesty to recognise the 
inferiority of their country by calling it Kol yul^ the 
barbarian land* 



CHAPTER II 

THE INHABITANTS : THEIR PHYSICAL AND MORAl TYPES 

Statistics ; ethnical name of the Tibetans-Physical characteristics- 
Moral characteristics* 

THK immense territory which I have described is very 
sparsely inhabited. There would not appear to be in 
all more than three millions of Tibetans, subjects of the 
Emperors of China and India respectively,* but all, 
in spite of the distance that separates them, present a 
remarkable unity of manners and language. They all 
give themselves the generic name of Bodpa. The 
inhabitants of the kingdom of Lhasa and those of 
fjulak look upon themselves as the purest portion of 
the Bod race and distinguish their congeners of the 
north and north-caw by special names, The nomads 
who frequent the pastures of the high table-lands between 
Like Fangong and the Nam Cho are called Changpa 
(Byangpa), that is to say the Northerns. The nomauic 
or sedentary Tibetans who live beyond the Nam Cho and 
to the north of Chamdo, from the district of Nagchu 
Jongf to the Koko Nor and to Tasienlu, are designated 
by the word Horpa, which probably has the general 

, * I do nut include in this figure that part of the population of Nepal, 

? utn and Hurmah which in cnnmsrtdl with the Tibetan r. Mto 

*x*hllP conctuHiortu on the rtathtici of the Tibetan populated agre* 

1th mine, t *m ccrtuin that alt the other cntimntcs arc exflggerated, 

f The pcopla of Nagchdtkn arc already Horpu, while thow cm the 

Nam Cho are Htill Chancy. 

229 



Hibet 223 

sense of barbarian. The Mongols are often so called in 
the books, whereas in modern usage they are more 
often given the more precise name of Sokpo. In 
Western Tibet, where the Mongols are very little known, 
the word Horpa is applied solely to the Moslem 
Turkomans of Kashgar, The herdsmen of the steppes in 
both the west and the east are called Dogpa (Hbrogpa), 
in opposition to the sedentary husbandmen. None of 
these names has any ethnical meaning and all the Bodpa, 
from the Koko Nor to Baltistan, look upon one another 
as brothers. 

They all have a certain family likeness, but they are 
a heterogeneous family, whose members recognise one 
another only because they do not resemble the neighbour- 
ing families and not because they resemble one another 
mutually. When you see a Tibetan, you at once decide, 
judging by his manners and his dress, that he is not a 
Chinese, nor a Mongol, nor a Turkoman, nor an Indo- 
European, but you would do wrong to conclude that all 
the Tibetans are cut after the same pattern, for, should 
a neighbour come into sight, you will set* that he differs 
almost as greatly from his fellow-countryman as no 
matter which Chinese, Mgfljjglor Hindu* If you take 
a group of fifty Tibctap ~ ~'^ l ^ m ****i^h to pick out 
among them three or ' **<which have 

little in common with the same 

2 pes are found pretty M se among 

the ethnical groups *,. ated to form 

the Tibetan people there ,/usatuis of years 

pa$t> been intimate, frequent a..,. terrupted relations 
which have completely mixed up , *e ethnical frontiers 
while unifying the language.* It therefore becomes 

* Whatever the dialectical difference* may be, they arc ICN great 
than formerly existed in France on a much amattor surface, m>r do 
they prevent the TibctsuM of the moat dint ant, district* from under- 
*timding one another. 



3*4 Uibct 

impossible to evolve a general type from amid this 
confusion. As to describing with exactness and 
classifying the three or four irreducible types to which 
all the individual types may be carried back, this 
is an enterprise that could be attempted only by a 
specialist who had first studied the question very 
minutely on the spot* Here, however, are some of the 
characteristics that are most often seen : a high, narrow 
and sometimes receding forehead ; large ears standing 
out from the head ; a nose sometimes wide and flat, but 
oftonest prominent, not unfrequently aquiline, but 
almost always with wide nostrils ; eyes less prominent 
and not so almond-shaped as in the Mongols : in certain 
individuals, even, the almond-shape is hardly notice- 
able ; targe, prominent cheek-bones ; a long, bony face, 
sometimes square, hardly ever round as in the Mongols; 
a wide split mouth ; strong teeth, very often irregular 
and rotten ; lips thick in some, but thin in the majority; 
hands and feet large and clumsy ; thick, hard hair, with 
a more or less pronounced tendency to wave; beard 
rare, with a few exceptions ; I have seen Eastern 
Tibetans bearded like patriarchs, but, as a rule, it is their. 
custom to remove ^e^hrjiao their faces with tweezers* 
The wtature of jk^* ^hove the middle height 

and b talk- - - " Tibet, where it averages 

5 feet $ #est, where the mean 

height is Their bones arc large, 

their muscle .tard and firm ; stout- 

ness is extreme ,n the women, i met no 

fat people, excejx the monks; and even then 
I saw none that L *id be described as obese* The 
skull is visibly brachycephalic, but less so than among 
the Mongols. The colour of the eyes is light btoWn 
or hazel, of the hair always black, of the skin m* 
determinable, because of the dirt with which all alike 
are covered ; nevertheless, I had the good fortune to 



Uibet 223 

see a few Tibetans who had just washed themselves : 
they appeared to me to be bronzed like Italians, with 
a slightly reddish foundation. The collection of legends 
of Padma Sambhava speaks of Tibet as the land of the 
red-faces, dongmar bod yuL There is no room for estab- 
lishing any characteristic distinction between the Tibetans 
of Lhasa and Tachilhunpo, of whom I saw a fairly large 
number, and the nomads of the north and north-east, 
except that the latter naturally have a rougher bearing. 
On the other hand, the Panaks of the shores of the 
Koko Nor must be set apart ; they are much nearer the 
Mongols than the other Tibetanj ami, in particular, their 
eyes are more almond-shaped, their noses less prominent 
and their figures more thick-set. 

The Tibetans have much more suppleness, agility 
and grace in their walk than the inhabitants of Chinese 
Turkestan; they move very fast, excepting the grandees, 
with comparatively short, quick steps, wriggling their 
hips as they go, I have pointed out elsewhere how easily 
they accommodate themselves to the excessive altitude 
of their country, which is no inconvenience to them. 
Thanks to this power of accommodation, they are able, 
without too much difficulty, to endure long marches and 
to indulge in rapid journeys of which few Europeans 
would be * able in such mountains as these. Never- 
theless, v> : ****^ not find that the Tibetans were better 
able to resist fatigue or to endure suffering than we 
are: rather is the contrary true, for, though their bodies 
are leas delicate, they have not so powerful a moral 
energy, 

It is, perhaps, a rather deceptive undertaking to try 
to draw a moral portrait of the Tibetan, The few 
characteristics which are common to all the inhabitant* 
of Tibet and to them alone in no way help to compose 
the Tibetan soul, but are simply supentddal, resulting 
as they do from historical antecedents and social and 

15 



political conditions. In general, it may be said that the 
Tibetan possesses gentleness not devoid of hypocrisy; 
he is weak, timid, obsequious and distrustful, like all 
weak people. This is a consequence of the clerical 
government that is laid upon him, a tyrannical, sectarian^ 
suspicious government, trembling lest it should sec its 
authority escape it, mindful to keep every one in a state 
of servile dependence and making a system of mutual 
spying and informing the basis of the social edifice. Fear 
hovers over the whole of Tibet : the government fears 
its subjects and the subjects their government ; each 
man dreads his neighlpur, his enemy and his friend; 
the private individual is afraid of the arbitrary power of 
the official and the lama ; and these both tremble before 
their superiors, who, in their turn s stand in constant alarm 
of the secret intrigues which they discover or imagine 
among their inferiors. Fear usually leads to cruelty and 
this explains the frequency of murders and especially of 
cases of poisoning, as well as the barbarity of the punish- 
ments to which the Tibetans condemn their criminals ; 
for their hearts are not naturally hard and closed to 
pity* It goes without saying that the Tibetans show 
even greater distrust with regard to strangers than 
to their fellow-countrymen and that is why it is so 
difficult to extract the least information from them, 
But it is so greatly a matter of policy that the 
Ponbo Tibetans, who detest the Budemists, open out 
quite readily to Europeans, in whom they sec a 
possible support against their orthodox enemies. In 
the same way, the Tibetans of the east, who are 
divided into independent and mutually hostile tribes, 
exposed to the raids of their neighbours and always 
upon the alert against attack, are much more dis- 
putatious and quarrelsome than their congeners ih the 
west and south and yield with less constraint to the 
violent impulses of instinct. 



227 

There is no traveller but has observed the heedless- 
ness of the Tibetan. He does not love long reflection : 
"Sufficient for the day is the evil thereof" is his 
maxim ; and, when occasion offers, he amuses himself, 
sings, dances and has good cheer without troubling about 
the morrow. And what is there of which he should take 
heed ? The social organisation is such that he can scarcely 
hope to rise above his condition and that, wherever fate 
has caused him to be born, he is almost sure of his 
daily pittance, with which he is contented because he 
knows that he can obtain no better. Anxious characters 
occur only in societies as complex and as unstable as ours, 
where there is a superabundance of population, where 
nearly every man, instead of finding a place kept for 
him in the sun at his birth, is obliged to make one 
for himself by his own efforts, at the cost of much 
time and trouble, where it is impossible to procure 
contentment cheaply, where men's ambitions are un- 
loosed by the capacity which all possess or believe 
themselves to possess for climbing to the topmost 
summits. 

It is well to be on one's guard, in a certain 
measure, against the accusations of lubricity made against 
the Tibetans by the missionaries, who are always 
curiously inept when speaking of this sort of matter, 
and by the Chinese, wno are always full of national 
pride and smug respectability. I do not believe that 
the Tibetans arc, at bottom, worse in this respect than 
the majority of men* To tell the truth, notwithstanding 
the recommendations of the Buddhist religion, they 
attach but a very slight importance to what others regard 
as very immoral. Their example serves excellently well 
to prove the vanity of the theory according to which 
the inhabitants of cold countries have naturally better 
morals than those of hot countries. In any case, the 
Tibetan, who is coarser and less restrained by prejudice 



228 . 

than the Chinaman, indulges his libertinism with less 
refinement and less viciousness. He is also less proud 
and less of a scoffer ; he is not prone to insolence and 
depreciation and is given rather to displaying frank 
admiration. He has a simple gaiety, an ingenuous good- 
humour, that causes him to be amused by the least thing, 
like the big baby that he is. Of very indifferent culture, 
both in the towns and the steppes, he has a less prudent 
and less industrious mind than the Turkoman of Khotan 
or Kashgar ; and yet education is a little more wide- 
spread in Tibet than in Turkestan, But this education is 
limited to the first elements of reading and writing and 
to prayers and the catechism ; and this necessarily rude 
religious instruction has but increased the profoundly 
superstitious character of these munis us yet dark and 
crammed with childish fears and credulousncss. How- 
ever, the TibeUn is the intellectual superior of the 
Mongol, less heavy and less stupid ; he does not lack 
vivacity or goodwill ; ami, with fj;ood mamifjement, there 
is sometiag to be made of him. 



CHAPTER III 

HISTORICAL SKLLTCtl 

Origins of the Tihctnn people The chief tribes in the Htr.th century 
A.I),, according to the Chinese writers The first Tibetan kingdom 
between the ttevcntli and the ninth eiHurit!K8tru$jlc between the 
civil power and the religioim power, 

WE have no precise and certain Information as to the 
origin of the Tibetan race, The Tibetans declare that 
they are descended from an ape-god and a female 
demon (shrinm); in the same way, the Turkomans 
contend that their first ancestor was a wolf. The 
Chinese state that the Tibetans are the descendants 
of the Sanmiao tribes, which Chun, the mythical 
emperor who lived in the twenty-third century )i,c., 
sent to the neighbourhood of the Koko Nor. This 
would prove that, in the opinion of the Chinese, the 
Tibetans originally occupied the fertile valleys of China, 
whence they were driven by the conquering people of 
the Hundred Families, and that the settlement of the 
Tibetans in their present country dates back to pre- 
historic ages. 

It is very probable that the Tibetans belong to the 
same stock as the different Turco-Mongol nations. Not 
only is there a considerable resemblance between the 
physical types of all of them, but their respective manners 
and beliefs present striking analogies. No doubt, the 
processes of civilisation being much the same in all 
races, we must not, in order to prove their ethnical 

229 



relationship, rely too much upon the identity of certain 
customs between two nations nor even upon the simi- 
larity of the general principles which serve as a basis for 
their respective social systems. Otherwise, it would be 
very easy to demonstrate that the Chinese have the same 
origin as the Greeks. But, in the case of the Tibetans, 
we observe between their oldest usages and those of the 
Turkomans and Mongols resemblances so close, following 
one another sometimes so exactly down to the smallest 
detail, that it is impossible not to see more in this than a 
chance coincidence. The difference in language is a 
difficulty: we know that the Tibetans speak an idiom 
which is partly monosyllabic like Chinese, partly agglu- 
tinative like Mongolian, and which already possesses 
rudiments of declension und conjugation which permit 
it to have a syntax more nearly allied to the Turkic 
than to the Chinese syntax; moreover, its vocabulary is 
quite special* It is certain that, if the hypothesis of the 
common origin of the Tibetans and Mongols be correct, 
the former have undergone remarkable modifications in 
the course of the ages, an their physical type proves. It 
in very possible that, coming from Mongolia, they found 
another race settled before them in the land of the 
sources of the great rivers uiul that they mixed with 
this race ami, in a certain measure, borrowed it* 
language and its corporal structure. Perhaps a few 
remnants of this primitive race still survive among the 
wild horde* of Sechuen, Yunnan or the Himalaya** 

The Tibetan legends of the Book of Kings teach 
us nothing as to the origins : they are only inventions, 
laboriously arranged by pedantic scribes, which remind 
one greatly of the traditions of primitive China, distorted 
with a puerile rationalism by later historians. ThiJM 
the same system that consist* in attributing to a $erie 
of very wine kings the discovery and application of 
the arts necessary to life and the establishment of the 



Uibet 231 

institutions that are the ground-work of society. The 
first of these kings, Nyati Tsanpo, is said to have come 
from India ; he entered Tibet from Bhotan and crossed 
Mount Yarlhachampo to go to Lhasa. This is a legend 
which was evidently fabricated by the Buddhist monks 
accustomed to attribute everything to India and which 
must be rejected at once. Nevertheless, it is not 
impossible that the monks, in saying this, were uncon- 
sciously uttering a truth and that a part of the Tibetan 
people did, at an extremely distant period, issue from the 
plain of the Ganges. The oldest certain mention made 
of the Tibetans in history is to be found in the annals 
of the Hans, which apeak of* them under the general 
name of Kiang and relate that, in 770 B.C., they were 
at war with the Chinese.' 1 ' As early as the commence- 
ment of the Christian era, traders crossed Tibet to go 
from Palibothra Regia (Patna) to the capital of China, 
passing through Nepal and Lhasa, Pliny the Elder 
calls Tibet the land of the Attacori, a name which we 
find again in Ptolemy under the form of Ottorokorrhu, a 
town situated near the Sampo and corresponding very 
probably with Lhasa. The Alexandrian geographer 
already knows the real name of the Tibetans, t /fcu'wu ; 
but for him the Bauti are only one of the hordes 
inhabiting the country lying between the Himalayas 
(Emodes) and the Nan Chan (Kacian Mountains) and 
he places them north of Lhasa, However, it seems 
that this was the chief of the tribes of Tibet, since it 
gave its name to the River Buutisos, an ideal generali- 
sation of all the streams which derive their source 
between Nepal and Tsaidam and which, for Ptolemy, 
all join the Hoangho. 

In the fourth century of our era, the Tibetans 
assisted in bringing about the downfall of the Tsiu 

* We rnuttt not attach much importance to thin date of 770, an Chinese 
history acquires no certainty until the second half of the third century n.c. 



232 ZEfbet 

dynasty : they then numbered one hundred and fifty 
tribes, sub-divided into a swarm of little clans, established 
on the left of the River Min and of the Takiang, Their 
most important chief resided to the east of the river of 
Lhasa (Loso)j probably on the site of the present town. 
The annals of the Soei and the Tangut give us the 
principal tribes in the sixth century and supply indica- 
tions of sufficient precision to enable us to place them 
on the map. They are, beginning at the north-east ; 

1. The Tukuhun, so called after the name of a 
Turko-Mongol chief who came from Liaotung to settle 
in their country in 312* They occupied the region 
lying between Sining and the Yellow River, the neigh- 
bourhood of the Koko Nor and Tsaidam. They are 
the ancestors of the Panaks and the Gomis. Their 
capital was situated at 15 or 50 lis to the west of the 
Koko Nor, In the fifth and sixth centuries, their 
dominion extended as far as Cherchcn. The women 
of the country of the Tukuhun, like the Tibetan 
women of our own day, parted their hair into a 
number of little plaits and adorned it with beads 
and shells. The bulk of the population certainly re- 
mained Tibetan, but the Turko-Mongolian element 
introduced by the invaders was far from unimportant, 
numbering no fewer than 1,100 families, according to 
the annals of the Soei j 

2, The Tanghiangj* to the south of the above and 
to the east of the River Tao and of Sungpanting, 
occupied the mountainous district of the Upper Yellow 
River and the Za Chuu They were a people of horse- 
men, warlike and given to pillage, having no houses 
but only yak-skin tents, We recognise in them tl$ 
ancestors of the Goloks, the Zachukkapa and the people 
of Ngamodo. It was from one of their tribes, probably 

* The term Tangut come* from the immt of tbia honk. It 
Mongol plural of Tang, 



mbet 233 

that of the Topa, that the celebrated Sihia dynasty 
took its origin ; 

3, Various tribes, such as the Chunsang, Misang 
and others, to the south of the Tanghiang and doubt- 
less corresponding with the people of Dergyeh and the 
five Horpa clans ; 

4, Nukno, that is to say the kingdom of women, or, 
more correctly, Nuwangkno, the country governed by a 
queen. This country, situated to the east, or rather to 
the south-east of the Tanghiang and to the north-east 
of Yachow, is the modern Toskyub and Somo. Mr, 
Rockhill notes that, when he passed through the 
Horpa, Somo was governed by a woman. We must 
be suspicious of information given by the Chinese 
authors, who are apt to exaggerate customs differing 
from their own and who imagine that, if women do 
not occupy in a particular society a place as low as 
that which they fill in Chinese society, they become 
sovereign mistresses through this very fact. Note that, 
in Nukno, all the officials who are not employed in 
the interior of the palace, the military officers? and the 
priests are men ; 

5, The Tangchang, to the west of Sechuen (Ta- 
sicnlu) ; 

6, The Tengchi, beside the above (Li tang or Batang) ; 

7, The Pelan, to the west of the Tanghiang, occupied 
the country of the Nyamcho, of the Taorongpa and, 
generally, the territory of the Nanchen Gyapo* Their 
name is found under the form of Paliana in Ptolemy, 
who places them at Long, 162 25', Lat. 41 between 
Tsaidam and Lhasa ; 

8, The Tomis, to the west of the above, occupied 
the present territory of the Hortsi Gyapcko in the 
bain of the Sog Chu ; 

9, The Tufan, to the south of the above and east of 
Nepal, occupied the Lh?*';* country urn! th<; whole 



234 

province of Bu : they were the most powerful tribe in 
Tibet from the fourth century onwards ; * 

10, The Silis, to the south-west of the above, a tribe 
of 50,000 families dwelling in towns and villages. 
Their country was South Chang and more especially 
the neighbourhood of Tachilhunpo ; 

1 1 , The Changkiepo, nomadic Highlanders, number- 
ing about 2,000 tents to the south-west of the Silis, 
that is to say on the confines of Nepal, in the neigh- 
bourhood of Nilam ; 

12 and 13. The Yangtung, divided into Little and 
Great, were nomads who grazed their herds west of the 
Tufun, north of Nepal, "south of Khotan, that is to say 
in West Chang and in Eastern Ngari, or, roughly, 
between Long. 77 and 83. The Little Yangtung 
lived in Ngaris and the Great in Chang ; 

14, The Great Poliu or Polu, to the west of the 
Yangtung. These are the people of Ladak ; 

15* The Little Poliu, to the west of the above, 
occupied what is now Baltistan, They were at the 
outlet of the road to Kashgar through the Pamirs,t 

The annals of the Soei and the Tangut depict to 
us these Tibetans of yore as very similar to those 
whom we see to-day, with their dirty faces, their tangled 
huir, their long skin robes, their yak-hair tents in the 
north and their flat-roofed houses in the south. Even 
as to-day, they made barley-beer and kneaded pellets at 
tsambu into a buttered drink ; they had a taste for 
brigandage and never went out without their bows and 
their sword* ; their manners were very free and the 
punishments which they inflicted upon criminals very 

* They had nbxorhtid, umontf other tuition*, the Supi, who probably 
intuibitcit Nstgtihukkii urul Naniru, 

| Klaproth ; //MoriVi/f Wtrturtrs qM*to-ButihisU: The 
of TibutVf. Kockhill : The Land of tha Lattnatt Whet: a 
MiKtorltMt ttnti Mthttotfrtrphivat Skftuh derived from Chinete 
Uitdiourtne : A MixtQry of Tibet and the Kolto Nor (in 



ZCibet 235 

ferocious. Their women wore their hair divided into a 
mass of little plaits * and coated their faces with a black 
glaze. The crops were scarce and comprised little 
besides barley, buckwheat and pease. The father passed 
his authority as head of the family on to the son when 
the latter was grown up. Their religion was the same 
as that of the ancient Chinese and the ancient 
Turkomans, consisting in ancestor-worship and a coarse 
naturalism : we shall sec presently that this religion 
has survived almost in its entirety among the people. 
The priest-wizards, similar to the Turkic kttms^ wielded 
a great influence over the superstitious minds of 
the ancient Tibetans ; by means of sacrifices and 
prayers they gave a religious sanction to the oaths of 
political fidelity which the chiefs took to the prince 
every year and, with greater solemnity, every three 
years ; and it is related that, at the great triennial 
celebration, human beings were sacrificed. For the rest, 
the civilisation of these Tibetans was very rudimentary ; 
they did not know how to write and, to convey orders 
or establish contracts, they used notched wooden pins, 
like the old Turkomans and like the Tibetan or other 
hordes who live in the south-eastern corner of Tibet 
to this day* 

About the year 630 A.U., the Tibetan Prince 
Srongtsangampo (the very mighty and very wise [?] 
Srong)t collected a large number of Tibetan tribes into 
a confederation and founded a great State, with Lhasa for 
its capital. This new kingdom took the name which it 
has since kept, Tufa in Chinese, or rather, according to 
the old pronunciation, Tupat. l\n is a transliteration of 

* At IcuHt, among the Tanghwng Tibctanw of this north -cast. 

fSrong to often pronounced Kong, wherefore the Chinese writer* 
have transcribed thiw name a Lung, The meaning of Gumpcj or Stfnmpft 
in very doubtful (Cf. Ja*Hchk*B Dictionary, p. 114). Thi sovereign in 
more shortly called 



236 

the word Bod^ which the Tibetans use to denote their 
country and their race ; tu represents the Tibetan mfo 
(pronounced /'0) 5 or high. The Arabs have turned it into 
Tibbet, 1 which is pronounced very nearly as if composed 
of the two English words " tub, but,'* and Marco Polo 
wrote Tebet, which afterwards became Tibet or Thibet.! 
A few rays of civilisation began to illumine the country. 
Srongtsanpo sent a missionary to India> who brought 
back a writing and translated two or three Buddhist 
treatises ; he gave some encouragement to the religion 
of Sakya Muni and built several temples: the lamas 
rewarded him later by raising him to the dignity of 
an incarnation of Avalo&teshvara, However, Buddhism 
spread very little in Tibet in this reign. It was not 
until after the arrival, in the middle of the eighth century, 
of Muster Padma Sambhava, the tamer of demons, that 
the monasteries were founded and a regular clergy 
created. The influence of Chinese civilisation at once 
made itself felt with much greater strength than that 

* Generally pronounced Bod as written. 

tThey ought to have transliterated it with n T and not with a T; 
but we know that it was their custom to Arabicine foreign words by 
substituting the simple t for the aspirate t\ As for the reduplication 
of the & this Is a later corruption, which probably owes its origin to 
the effort that was made to pronounce the particular sound of the 
vowel tt. 

| GJ, M, L. Peer's pamphlet, Etymology of the word Tibet. I thitffc 
that I am right in writing Tibet without the ft, because, first, tfat 
letters Th represent to me not a t aspirate, but the English sound of th t 
which cannot be figured in any other manner ; secondly, it is absolutely 
useless to encumber the spelling of names so current in every-day us* 
as that of Tibet with superfluous letters which are not pronounced an4 
cannot be pronounced ; thirdly, if it be thought necessary to . 
the Tibetan aspiration, then there is all the greater reason for i 
the vowels t and t, which make the original word quite t 
fourthly, the oldest texts of Marco Polo give Tebtt oftener than * 
fifthly and lastly, It is possible that the first syllable, 
ft transcription of m**o, it that of stod, which faaj f 
and almost the same sound, but without the aspiration. 



237 

of the Buddhist religion, Srongtsanpo recognised the 
suzerainty of the Emperor of China > married a princess 
of the imperial family, dofted his hides of beasts in 
favour of silk garments in the Chinese fashion, surrounded 
himself with Chinese literati who conducted his official 
correspondence, sent the children of the Tibetan nobility 
to study the classical literature of China and had work- 
men brought from Singan to make paper and ink. 
At the same time that they were putting themselves to 
school in China, the Tibetans acquired a material power 
which they were never to know again in all the course 
of time. In 663, they destroyed the Mongolian dynasty 
of the Tukuhun, which held sway in the region of the 
Koko Nor, and soon their empire extended from Lanchow 
to the gates of Badakshan, They entered into relations 
with the caliphs of Bagdad, who at one time allied them- 
selves with them against the Chinese, at another with 
the Chinese against the Tibetans ; they repeatedly 
captured Singan, the capital of China, and would 
perhaps have succeeded, in the eighth century, in 
breaking up their suzerain's empire, if he had not 
provoked an almost general coalition of Asia against 
his dangerous neighbours. 

I have explained elsewhere how, for nearly two 
centuries, they had been the more or less irregular 
and disputed masters of Chinese Turkestan and how, 
in the course of the ninth century, their kingdom 
became dismembered in consequence of the legendary 
rivalries between the civil power and the clergy. 
The lamas, fed, protected and loaded with favours by 
royalty, rewarded its benefits, so soon as they felt 
strong enough, by trying to expel it from the home 
where it had made room for them. It is the ever- 
lasting story. The kings defended themselves and one 
of them, Lingdarma, signalized his reign by u relent- 
less persecution of the clergy, lie was no other, if 



238 

we may believe the chroniclers, than the devil incar- 
nate : he had an incipient horn on his head and he 
carefully concealed this deformity, which would have 
revealed his true character to his people. Only those 
to whom he entrusted the care of his heard and hair 
were able to see the accusing; sign, but they had no 
opportunity to be indiscreet, for they were put to death 
so soon as their task was done. At last, an ascetic 
saint, who, by dint of ruining his health in contem- 
plation, had acquired the gift of second sight, came 
to know of the existence of the horn and realised 
that his duty was to rid the sacrecl land of Bod of 
this uncleun monster. * He succeeded in penetrating 
secretly into the monarch*.'; palace and killed him 
with an arrow. 

In the tenth century, the clergy was restored to 
its privileges, Kublai Khan recognised as the chief 
of the Tifcctan clergy the superior of the convent of 
Saskya* and conferred temporal authority upon him 
under his own suzerainty ; and, since then, China has 
not ceased to support the clergy. The power of the 
monks as against the lay monarchy declined together 
with the strength of the emperors and again resumed 
its vigour at the same time as they. Tsongkapa, the 
great reformer, triumphed with the Ming dynasty ; his 
successors were eclipsed by the secular kings, who were 
supported by the Hi Mongols so soon as the Ming 
dynasty had lost its ascendant, and recovered their pre- 
eminence so soon as the Tsing dynasty was established ; 
and, lastly, when the lay prince tried once more to aei&e 
the authority, the Emperor Kicnlong, who raised the 
Chinese power to its topmost point, ordered him to be 
condemned and executed ant! awarded the royal title 
to the Dalai Lima and the functions of viceroy to 
another lama in 751. The consequence of this good 

* The prcdeccHKor and uncle of the famous 



Uibet 239 

understanding between the Tibetan clergy and China 
was that the latter was able to dispense with sending 
a colony to Tibet, kept up a much smaller number of 
officials and soldiers in Tibet than in Turkestan and, 
nevertheless, exercised a much greater influence over 
Its civilisation, so that, generally speaking, everything 
which. In the civilisation of Tibet 5 is not of Indian 
origin may be said to have derived its source from 
China* 



s 



CHAPTER IV 

MATERIAL LIFE : HABITATIONS, CLOTHING, FOOD, 
HYGIENE AND MEDICINE 

Tents HQIIHCJI Clothing -Food Climate, hygiene juitl medicine, 

I IUVK already, in the' first part of this work, given 
some details concerning the different subjects which arc 
treated in this chapter, Also, Mr, W. \V, Rockhill hiv 
handled these questions with remarkable accuracy in his 
/Vto wi the Kt/iHfikgy '/ Tikty which are abundantly 
illustrated from nature. I refer the reader to this hook 
and will content myself here with very briefly sum- 
ming up my own observations and information, which 
confirm the work of the celebrated American traveller 
without adding greatly to it. 

1'Yom the point of view of dwellings, Tibet may be 
divided into two regions ; the region of tents and the 
region of houses. The latter does not extend further 
north than the itinerary of Nain Singh by Rudok, Ombo 
and Senja Jong, hast of the Nam Cho, Nagchu, 
Jycrkundo and the villages of the La Chu Valley present 
the last specimens of stone houses. Beyond those limits^ 
tents mingle with the stone houses, more numerous 
than the latter at first and then less numerous, without, 
however, disappearing entirely, except in a few district* 
specially favourable to agriculture and unfitted for 
gnuing, Thus, in Ladak, from Like 1'angong to Lch 
and from Leh to the Karaul Pass, there are no tents. 
Although tents are pre-eminently the dwelling!* of the 

340 



herdsmen, there are, nevertheless, a certain number of 
Tibetans, as, for instance, the inhabitants of Nagchu 
Jong, who, while living solely on their cattle, live in 
houses. 

The Tibetan tent (gur) is quite different from the 
Mongolian tent. It is made or a coarse black web of 
yak-hair, greatly inferior in every respect to the Mongol 
felt ; is quadrilateral instead of round ; and is held up 
by one horizontal and two vertical poles, which arc fixed 
and strengthened by a large number of ropes stretched 
outside, passing over little stakes at some distance from 
the tent and then pinned into the ground. It is never 
pitched on level soil, not only hfecause Tibet has hardly 
any flat surfaces, but also because the natives avoid 
the low ground and take shelter on the slopes of the 
mountains in order to escape too much moistness in 
spring and, generally, to protect themselves better against 
the brigands* The tent rests most often against a thick 
wall of dried ox-dung, which serves at the same time 
as a stack of fuel and as a screen against the wind ami 
snow ; it is usually surrounded, at some distance, by 
a little stone or mud wall, very low and insignificant in 
Central Tibet, very high in those parts of Eastern 
Tibet where brigandage is frequent. This enclosure is 
called the niwa (rabti^ the yenchu of the Chinese^ ; and 
this is the name which I have always heard given to the 
Tibetan tents ; the enclosure, in fact, has a capital 
moral importance : it is the limit of the domain of 
the household gods and the stranger who has crossed 
its threshold at once becomes the owner's guest* 
Inside the tent, at the back, is the cella^ the cup- 
board of the gods, before which, on the ground, in 
the place of honour, lies a great block of wood, one or 
two yards long by eight or ten inches high and badly 
squared, on which he who is admitted to the place of 
honour puts down his cup of tea. In the middle is 

16 



the hearth. The dried dung burns cither in a little 
iron apparatus consisting of three hoops placed one 
above the other and supported by three legs, or else 
in a stone furnace, long, narrow, breast-high, with a 
hearth at one end and a transversal channel with room 
for several stewpots to boil upon. The smoke escapes 
through the hole contrived in the top of the tent or 
most often spreads through the interior, black, acrid and 
sticky, contributing in a marked way to bronzing the 
faces of the natives. To the right of the entrance, 
near the canvas, stands a row of small bags containing 
rhe provisions ; to the left, the strips of felt and the 
blankets that serve for bedding are piled up with saddles, 
iron-ware, pots, pans, cups, a lump of stone for pounding 
the tea, a churn, a number of mutton-bones, sometimes 
one or two live lurnbs ami a heap of dried dung. The 
furniture of the houses displays the same simplicity, 
except in towns of some importance : the furnace is 
similar to those in the tents and the chimney is also 
reduced to u hole in the ceiling* 

The Tibetan houses (k/MNgpttJt built for rhe most 
part of stone slabs, have generally several storeys, two 
or three, the ground-floor serving as a stable 1 . The 
roofs are flat, the windows sparingly contrived and, as 
often as possible, looking out on the court-yard ; most 
of the rooms are lighted merely by narrow slits: only the 
state-rooms admit the light by wide windows fitted with 
paper panes and thick shutters of red wood. Every 
respectable house has, on the first or second floor, a 
verandah, which does not stand out, but which consists 
simply of a room of which the outer wall has been 
removed. The poor houses have a yard at the front or 
back, while, in the rich dwelling*, the building* arc 
arranged around an inner court or Horn (khyam)* The 
tsom is sometimes on the first floor, the ground-floor 
being entirely covered over, in which cane there is 



Gibet 243 

nothing resembling it in European buildings : the 
tsom becomes a large open-air upper halL According 
to the somewhat summary descriptions which the annals 
of Tang give of the houses of Tibet in the seventh 
century, it would -seem that the architecture has not 
changed since. These houses, though more solidly 
built than those of Turkestan, are, on the whole, less 
convenient and are arranged in an odd and awkward 
manner, but they are pretty well-suited to serve as a 
refuge against an armed aggression or as a base for 
nu attack. Like the tents, they exhibit a marked 
preference for sloping groun^, preferring to look 
down upon the passer-by rather than to see him from 
below. 

The Tibetan dress consists essentially of a very wide 
gown, 5J feet long, with very long sleeves, tightened in 
at the waist and gathered up so as not to fall below the 
ankle of the men of quality or the townsmen nor below 
the knee of the common people, who have much walking 
ami work to do. Thus gathered up, the gown puffs out 
at the breast, forming a huge pocket. At night, the 
wearer lets it fall and is thus wrapped up from his ears 
to his feet as in a bed. The women wear the same 
gown, but never raise it above the ankle. This 
garment is called chuba^ the same as the pelisse of the 
eastern Turks (juba, jiw)* Among the herdsmen of 
the north, it is made of unlincd sheepskin, sometimes 
adorned with wide edgings of panther-skin or coloured 
woollen stuff. In the towns, they wear the same gown 
M indigo-blue or dark-red wool. The latter colour is 
the most popular, A woollen gown of the first quality 
costs at Lhasa as much as 400 tonka, or .15, The 
ceremonial dress of the chief lamas and officials is the 
Chinese silk costume with the mrtkoatw. Trousers are 
not a national garment ; neither the lamas nor the 
majority of the nomads use them* Delicate people wear 



241 

drawers of the Chinese pattern. As for shirts, these 
are worn only by the refined : they are made either 
of calico or of a sort of very course Nepal silk called 
bun (hunu)) which 1 have always seen grey, but I 
have never been able to discover its original colour. 
Then? arc two sorts of boots worn : Chinese boots 
and native boots, which hitter have undressed yak-skin 
soles and stuff uppers with coloured bands. The chief 
lamas also wear white boots, which are made at Lhasa, 

Perhaps there is no country in the world where one 
sees a greater variety of head-dresses than in Tibet : 
slender red turbans ; little Chinese felt hats with narrow, 
turned-up brims ; hut r c fur caps with eur rlups, with or 
without wide ribbons ; tall hats for the summer, with 
narrow crowns and very wide brims, fastened under the 
chin by straps; and straw hats of the Tyrolese shape. 
Some are worn at the same time in liw same places; 
others arc peculiar to certain districts, certain tribes or 
certain groups of tribes, Thus, the shape of the fur 
caps of Ladak differs greatly from that of the caps in 
common use at Lhasa, The Goloks and the Xaehukkapa 
have a special round cap, fitting close to the head 
behind ami forming a peak in front ; the Panaks wear 
a round cup, ending in a point, but quite low, Matty 
of the nomads are content to cover their heads am! 
ears with a strip of sheepskin like a peasant-woman's 
kerchief. Lastly, a large number go bareheaded, which 
offers no inconvenience, because the Tittttans allow their 
hair, which is thick and tangled, to grow freely. They 
are in the habit of twisting the hair at the top of the 
head into a plait, so as to reconcile the national way of 
doing the hair with the Chinese, and they adorn this 
plait with an ivory ring and a narrow band of stuff, in 
which they fix turquoises or coral;-:, In the towns, the 
hair is dressed in the Chinese fashion, but not no care- 
fully as among the inhabitant* of the Middle Kingdom, 



Uibet 245 

The Zachukkapa, the Goloks and the Panaks are 
exceptional in having their heads shaved. 

The Tibetans, like all nations still in a state of 
barbarism, delight in showy and massive jewels. In the 
Jyerkundo district, there are scarcely any men but wear 
in their left ear a large, heavy silver ring, set with a coral 
or precious stone. One of the officials who came from 
Lhasa to the shores of the Nam Cho to meet us wore, 
by way of an ear-tirop, an oblong sapphire not much 
smaller than a pigeon's egg. As for the women, they 
wear regular jewellers* shops on their heads. Among 
the nomads, their hair, arrange^ in innumerable small 
tresses that involve more than a whole day's work, is 
decorated with three great bands of woollen stuff or red 
Htlk strewn with rupees, shells, artificial pearls, corals, 
turquoises, amber beads, red agates, gold, silver or copper 
reliquaries and the rest. The head-dress of the women 
of Ladak is more modest. The women of Lhasa, I was 
told, wear their hair like the women of Chinese 
Turkestan, gathered into two plaits hanging down their 
back, 

The dress of the women varies more according to 
the districts than that of the men. In the east, they wear, 
in addition to the chuba, a sort of petticoat striped blue, 
green, yellow and red. At Leh, they cover their backs 
with a sheepskin shawl fastened at the throat with a 
brooch. This shawl is indispensable at all ceremonies or 
visits ; the rich women line the sheepskin with silk or 
English cloth, bringing the gold letters of the trade-mark 
well in view on the shoulder- There ha been much 
spoken of the custom general among the Tibetan women 
<^f coating their faces with catechu and much discussion 
of the reasons for this odd custom. The real reason ia 
the wish to protect themselves against the chaps which 
would otherwise be caused by the wind and the cold. 
When the women go into society^ as we should say, they 



246 trtbet 

remove this coating and are very proud to be able to 
show a fresh, pink complexion. 

The Tibetans, especially the nomads, generally carry 
on their persons a host of accessories : a knife, a needle- 
case, a tobacco-box, a pipe, a powder-horn, a tinder-box. 
The tinder-boxes are similar to those of Turkestan and 
Altai. A man rarely goes out unarmed, at least in the 
districts which I visited. Usually, he is content with a 
sling and with a sword with a straight, strong, two-edged 
blade, stuck slantwise through his belt, like a dagger. 
When he is fully armed, he carries also a long rapier in his 
belt ; in his hand, a lance six feet long, with an iron head 
and u light, but solid shJft ; and, slung across his body, a 
lung matchlock, with a slender butt-end and a widfc and 
thick iron barrel, furnished with a forked rest, 

The food of the Tibetans has been described too often 
ant! in too much detail for me to dwell upon it here, 
I will only make a few remarks, Tsamba, which consists 
of barley-corns grilled and ground, is not, as some have 
said, the staple food of the people. U is a very expensive 
commodity, chiefly among the nomads, and they are as 
sparing with it us possible* A man eats little more than 
one or two handfuls of it a day ; on the other hand, he 
is continually drinking innumerable cups of tea beaten up 
with butter and salted and he cannot do without this for 
long, for there is nothing that he dreads so much as a 
dry stomach* This, with dry, more-dialed cheese, forms 
the real basin of Tibetan food* They add to it a very 
respectable quantity of meat supplied by the dead 
animals of the hen), beasts killed when hunting and a few 
yaks and sheep slaughtered ou great occasions They 
arc in the habit of carefully preserving a certain IXMC (l 
forget whidV) of each animal eaten and this is why we *t%* 
long rows at bones arranged in the tents, At Lhaoa, yak- 
flesh is mostly eaten* As a rule, the animals intended 
for food are killed at the end of autumn, when they are 



THbet 247 

well fattened ; they are cut into quarters, which are 
hung up to dry ; and, during the rest of the year, the 
natives eat this raw meat, which they cut into thin 
shreds. Pork and poultry are absolutely unknown to 
the nomads and are found only in the southern towns. 
A change of diet is supplied to the herdsmen of the 
north-east by a root (toma ?) which grows freely up to 
an altitude of 14,500 feet ; it is almost black, the size 
of a small red radish and, when cooked, tastes not 
unlike salsify. At Lhasa, they have cabbages, potatoes 
of the European kind, onions, carrots, turnips, peas and 
beans. They cat a fair quantity of wheat-meal and rice. 
The rice is usually boiled in the Chinese manner and 
served with different meats in a sauce, after the Kash- 
mirian style* They also know pilau and different Chinese 
dinhes. But the Tibetans are not at all dainty in their 
food and set no store by variety- They are naturally 
large caters, although many of them are obliged to go 
on short commons. A Tibetan who had travelled in all 
the neighbouring countries and who stayed some time 
with us expressed surprise at our abstemiousness and 
told us that he had never seen any but the English eat as 
much us his fellow-countrymen. They have a very pro- 
nounced weakness for alcoholic liquids; they drink large 
quantities of their national beer (eating) and of brandy, of 
which one kind (arak) is manufactured by themselves and 
another is supplied to them by the Chinese. One may 
be sure that, if a Tibetan has brandy within his reach and 
money to buy it with, he will get drunk. But his 
poverty sometimes mounts too strict a guard over him- 

The very severe climate of Tibet is healthy because 
of its dryness, which is not so extreme as in Turkestan, 
and of the ordinary purity of the atmosphere. Its chief 
danger lies in the great variations of the temperature* 
We observed daily variations of 27 degrees, in December 
and January, on the sthores of the Nam Cho and at 



Nagchu, and of 24 degrees, at the end of May, at 
Jyerkundo. At Lhasa, the thermometer fluctuates most 
probably between 30 degrees in the winter and + 35 
degrees in the summer. The thaw also presents draw- 
backs owing to the moisture which it produces; but, on 
the whole, the climate is not favourable to illness. I 
cannot say as much for the habits of the natives. They 
have, it is true, the advantage of living much out of 
doors ; but, also> their houses are dirty, as they were 
thirteen centuries ago, and full of draughts ; they 
sleep immediately over the stables ; the court-yards 
are poisoned with rubbish of every kind and dung- 
heaps. Among the norrfluls, whole families are crowded 
promiscuously in tents which are always too close and 
sleep in greasy beds eaten up with vermin, in an 
atmosphere tainted with smoke and with the emanations 
of the herds gathered around. Neither the men nor 
the women take any care of their persons. They wear 
their clothes very long without changing, brushing or 
shaking them, keep them on even at night, use them 
as clusters and towels and take them off only when 
they drop off of themselves. They never wash their 
bodies and only in quite exceptional circumstances wash 
their faces and hands. However, to protect themselves 
against the hites of the wind, they cover themselves over 
with butter, the most rancid that they can find, pre- 
ferring to cat the other ; and this i.s very efficacious, 
for the dust, sweat and morsels of cuttle-dung, settling 
on this greasy layer, form an outer covering which, 
fortunately, doubles or trebles the connivency of the 
already thick skin allotted by nature to the Tibetans 
Thanks to this process, the people of the country 
give out a characteristic smcll^ not so much agree- 
able as penetrating and persistent, from which the 
greatest personages are not exempt* They neglect their 
hair as much as the rest of their bodien and comb it wo 



more frequently to-day than they did thirteen hundred 
years ago. They content themselves with, from time 
to time, buttering their hair to drive away the fleas. 
One is inclined to ask what their plight would be if 
they did not take this precaution, 

In these conditions,, it is not surprising that illness 
is extremely frequent, as well as infectious and con- 
tagious diseases of every kind, such as cancerous ulcers 
(ftwgpit)* k'p ros y (mttet)) plague (nyan)^ syphilis and 
malignant smallpox* The cold causes many cases of 
rheumatism and gangrene. Cases of ophthalmia are also 
very numerous, because of the dirt, the smoke and the 
glare of the snow* Mediciile, of Hindu origin., is 
practised exclusively by lamas, who use mainly Chinese 
remedies, 1 have spoken of this in the first part of 
the present' volume and need not return to it. 



CHAPTER V 

THE FAMILY 

Solidity and extension of the Tibetan family, compared with the Turkic 
family and the Mongolian family Marriage ; polyandry : Tibetan 
polyandry to only a form of patriarchism -Condition of the women 
'Amusements. f 

FAMILY tics arc not nearly so much relaxed in Tibet as 
they arc in Turkestan. Individualism has made but 
little progress and Tibetan society is to this day 
essentially a communistical society. It is based upon 
the idea of the $w/ of a group of persons who can 
go Kick, by an uninterrupted chain of generations, to 
a common ancestor, Every Tibetan traces his pedigree 
to a very remote stage and all those who arc united 
in blood have not only vague duties of courtesy towards 
one another, but precise and serious obligations, All 
are bound collectively to assist their kinsman in his 
need, to come to his aid with money when he marries 
his children, to pay his debts, to see that he is ritually 
buried and, in case of murder, to exact the price of his 
blood, The difficulty of gathering information in Tibet 
prevents me from fixing this solidarity exactly, but 
everybody admits it, proclaims it ; and if, probably, it 
has grown weaker with time, it is nevertheless a very 
living thing still and reveals itself in every action of 
life, When an individual is guilty of a crime of high 

" QyuJ (brgytttt)) a word which ul*o mcaiift cord or, M w *hottU 

ttuy, ciutin, 

250 



treason, it often happens that all his kinsmen, to a very 
remote degree, are included in the punishment inflicted 
on him. It seems that, among the nomads, the tribes 
are only so many large families, all whose members 
look upon themselves as springing from a common 
origin. In fact, it is customary for them all to bear the 
same name, adding to it, to distinguish themselves, a 
surname usually borrowed from Buddhic nomenclature. 
Lastly, the Tibetan nation as a whole is regarded as a yet 
more extensive family ; to denote it, the same expression 
is used as indicates the series of generations issuing from 
a common ancestor (Mkft Mi$ytitl)\ and the king Ls 
sometimes given the title of th father of the family. 

So far, we have seen nothing that docs not exist also, 
in different degrees, among the Chinese, the Mongols 
and the Turkomans, Pursuing our analysis and passing 
from the family in the wide to that in the narrow sense, 
wo shall find that the principles upon which it rests are, 
at bottom, the same among the Tibetans as among the 
Turkomans, with the exception of one point, a very 
important one, it is true, and so strong that it has 
caused the points of resemblance to be unduly for- 
gotten* The father of the family is the sole and 
absolute master ; his wife and children owe him an 
entire obedience, possess nothing in their own right 
ami are not even able, at least in theory, to dispose 
of their persons. The sons thus remain minors until 
the day of their marriage ; but, on that day, the father, 
contrary to the Chinese usage, keeps of his patrimony 
only so much as is necessary for him Co live on and 
to provide for the cost of his funeral and constitutes 
his sons the owners of the rest. It is here that we 
see the difference between the Turkic at\d the Tibetan 
custom. Among the Turkomans, each son receives his 
distinct part (inchi) at the moment of his marriage ; 
among the Tibetans, the eldest son alone receives the 



252 

whole and becomes the head of the family : the younger 
sons pass under his authority, fall to his charge and 
remain incapable minors under his guardianship, even as 
they were under that of their father. This is primo- 
geniture driven to the utmost point. Are we to behold 
in it two radically different customs, or to consider that 
one is derived from the other ? And, in that case, which 
is the older of the two ? I am content to put the 
question, knowing no fact that will permit me to solve 
it, I will only observe that, among the nomads of the 
north-east, there is a very marked tendency to divide the 
herds among the children, although this is not the 
general custom. It mvf be contended that this is a 
survival of the old usage, the nomads being more 
faithful to tradition than the settled population ; but, on 
the other hand, it would be urged, with, perhaps, greater 
probability, that non-division, being more in accordance 
with the principle, which is being impaired, of solidarity in 
families, was the original rule and that the nomads modified 
it, as time went on, because they felt its drawbacks and 
because it is neither difficult nor detrimental to divide 
herds, while the husbandmen persevered in the errors of 
the past because they found it inconvenient to portion out 
houses and fields and because they considered that, by 
dividing and subdividing among the children and the 
children*** children lands which do not increase of 
themselves like herds, they would end by turning si 
large and rich family into a collection of small, poor 
households, incapable of keeping up the honour or the 
ancestor's name. 

In the matter of marriage, we notice the same 
analogies and the same differences. Marriage, among 
both the Turkomans and the Tibetans, has us its object 
and its effect to hand a woman on from one family to 
another, to submit her not only to the authority of her 
husband, but also to that of her husband's family* The 



Ufbet 253 

bond which attaches her to that family is so strong that 
it is not broken even after the husband's death ; she 
then remains under the guardianship of the brother or 
the nearest kinsman of the deceased, becomes his 
property and, what is more, his wife, without that this 
entails any new ceremony. The nuptial rite performed 
by the first husband has given his relations rights 
over the woman married which each of them may be 
called upon to exercise in turn on the death of the 
last holder. The brothers-in-law of a Turkic woman 
are thus her deputy-husbands, whose rights are only 
suspended during the principal husband's lifetime. In 
Tibet, there is no suspension*: all the brothers collec- 
tively become the husbands of the same woman so soon 
us the rite is accomplished. There is therefore an 
exact correspondence between the rule of marriage and 
that of property. Among the Turkomans, each man has 
his own portion, takes up his residence in a separate tent 
with his wife, of whom he is the sole owner in the same 
way and within the flame limits as of his herds. In 
Tibet, the land being undivided among the brothers, 
the wife shares this quality; or rather, for these terms 
" undivided " and " non-division " are full of confusion 
and errors, the eldest brother is the sole possessor of 
the land and the sole husband of the wife. In the 
nuptial ceremony the younger brothers have absolutely 
no part ; as incompetent minors, they can enter into 
no valid contract except through the medium of their 
elder ; they have not the power of making a marriage 
on their own account, even as they have not that of 
inheriting from their father in equality of right with 
their elder, 

The Tibetans look upon the family as a group of 
such absolute unity that there an be only one individual 
of full age, who is the first-born of each generation, 
He alone has power of attorney and lieutenancy over 



264 CibCt 

the land of his ancestors ; he wields authority over the 
persons of the family and administers the patrimony; he 
is the living link or the chain at once mystic and real 
that is formed by the dead ancestor* and their urtborn 
descendants ; he has the duty of providing for the con- 
tinuation of that chain after him by begetting sons and 
of keeping for them the property which' he has received 
from his fathers, The first-born son is henceforth the 
depositary of the rights of the ancestors and, when he has 
grown to man's estate, when he is capable of acting 
tor himself and of fulfilling the duties that devolve 
upon him, his father retires before him, marries him and, 
in consequence, emancipittes him, tor his marriage is in 
itself an net of majority, since it enables him to fulfil 
the essential office of the head of the family, which 
is to ensure the succession of" the descent. The father 
has solidly forged his- link in the chain ; his task in 
this world is done ; he retires superannuated and has 
nothing more to do than, with the little estate which he 
has kept back for hirrsdf, to wait for the hour to strike 
for him to go and join his ancestors under ground. It 
is the emancipated son who is now the real and sole 
muster ; he alone is charged to continue the family cult ; 
he alone is responsible and able to act and speak in the 
name of the ancestors whom he represents ; he alone i 
master of all that the patrimonial house 4 contain* : the 
women who enter it are his, the chiMrcn who are 
begotten in it are his, But his younger brothers', born 
of the same lints h' e l * l sor ^ * natural proxy of his 
powers : when he is dead, his junior will become, ipw 
facto) sui juris ; he will be the master of the wife, of the 
children under age and the goods of the deceased, within 
the same limits as the latter w;is, that w to say, ntbject 
to the duty of retiring, when the time comes in favour 
of the first-born son, whether it be his own or the dead 
man 1 *. During the elder'* life, all his brothers have the 



tHbet 256 

faculty of taking his place In all the actions of life ; they 
are really his substitutes. They, for their part, enjoy 
the paternal property, which they own virtually, without 
being able to administer it ; and, if their elder, for a 
time, cease to enforce his rights over his wife, they 
may, thenceforward, enforce theirs and the wife has 
towards them the same obligations as towards the 
head of the family, of whom they are the born 
helpers in his task of perpetuating the race. They 
are not allowed to take a wife for themselves, since 
no strange person may be introduced into the paternal 
home, which must be single, according to the Tibetan 
idea, except by an act of tfce father of the family, 
the only major, and any woman introduced is neces- 
sarily the wife of the master; on the other hand, 
the latter is not entitled to refuse the co-operation of 
his juniors, for he would run the risk of compromising 
the continuity of the family, which only the birth of a 
considerable number of sons can ensure for certain. 
Although he has the right to refuse his wife to his 
brothers, even as he has the still graver right of expelling 
them from the home, nevertheless, if he reserved to 
himself the sole exercise of the husband's prerogatives 
simply from aversion for the sharing system, he would 
be universally and severely blamed. This sharing 
system is in no way repugnant to Tibetan ideas, for 
not only do the relations of the woman with several 
brothers issuing from the same ancestor fail to impair 
the purity of the descent, but all other considerations 
disappear before the legal conception that everything 
that shoots, grows or is born in the paternal nouse, 
whatever its origin, belongs to the master of the 
house. Legal conceptions of this kind have, in general, 
a much greater hold upon the minds of barbarians 
than upon ours and it is not always true to say that 
primitive or very ancient nations are nearer to nature 



256 trtbet 

than ourselves. Nevertheless, if one wife be not 
considered sufficient, the eldest brother can marry 
a second and a third, without being limited save by 
his wishes and his means ; and there is nothing, Jrhen, 
to prevent each brother from having practically a wife 
to himself: it is a question of friendly arrangement, 
This leads me to think that the idea of limiting the 
population has not contributed at all to the establishment 
or the continuance of polyandry. 

To sum up, the principle of Tibetan polyandry He* 
in an extremely strict conception of the privilege of 
the first -born and the unity of the genealogical line, 
which musf not be broken ami scattered into number- 
less divt'rqait branches* It is closely connected with 
tht* rule of property, which is concentrated in one 
hand and sfttk\l by primogeniture because it is necessary 
that the [possessions, which the ancestor made sacred 
by his ownership and bequeathed to his posterity, 
should be preserved in their integrity. Thin con- 
nection is peremptorily shown by the tuct that, when 
one of the brothers leaves the paternal roof and settles 
down apart to live on his industry ami his work, he 
can introduce into his new home a lawful wife, who 
belongs to him alone ami over whom his brothers have 
no rights, for she does not live on the property of the 
family ; and, at the same time, he retains his rights over 
the wife of his brothers as over the paternal inheritance, 
of which he continues to enjoy the usufruct to the extent 
of his share- Among the nomads, who sometime** 
divide their patrimony, polyandry ccu?tt*s when property 
no longer remains undivided. If it be true that, at, a 
prehistoric period, the Turkomans and Mongols lived 
under the system of non-division, it is probable* that 
polyandry prevailed among them also* The custom 
which I have mentioned above *cerm to 1x2 a vestige 
of it and, beside*, we know, from the tnnab of Liang, 



ttibet 257 

that, in the sixth century, a Turkic horde, that of the 
Hoa or Yeptalites, was still practising polyandry in the 
same manner as the Tibetans, that is to say restricted 
to th<; sons of the same father. 

The custom of polyandry is considerably reduced in 
practice, among the rich families, where the sons have 
many opportunities and facilities for settling down apart 
and, consequently, for having each his own wife. Orazio 
delta Penna observed this correctly, but he made the 
mistake of believing that polyandry was only an abuse 
introduced by the luxness of morals in the poor classes 
(tra A' />*TO;/<; non motto cctm&Jt}* It is among the rich, 
on the contrary, that the primitive custom has altered 
and then only in practice, for the theory remains un- 
changed. What led the Itstlian monk to think that 
polyandry was not authorised by law (non ordinal ddln 
faggt) was that the over-strict lamas do, in fact, censure it ; 
but it had penetrated so deeply into the morals of the 
nation that Buddhism has always been powerless to 
extirpate it and, to-day, the members of the clergy accept 
it without taking any steps to contend with it ami arc 
satisfied with replying to travellers who ask their opinion 
that every country nas its usages. The brother who 
separates himself from the community to found a new 
family may take as many wives as he pleases and it is 
only poverty that compels him to content himself with 
one* To sum up, there are four kinds of regular 
households in Tibet, namely, in order of frequency, 
those in which there are several husbands and several 
WIVCH ; those in which there are several husbands and 
only one wife ; those in which there are only one 
husband and several wives ; and those in which there 
arc only one husband and one wife. 

Tibetan marriage is exogamous : marriages do not 
take place within the fourth degree of consanguinity 
and the nomad chiefs have to marry outside their clan. 

17 



258 ttibet 

Conjugal union being a family affair and not a matter 
of personal inclination, the wishes of the young people 
interested are in nowise consulted ; the marriage is 
usually arranged upon the birth of the children by the 
parents of the two parties. I will not dwell upon 
the ceremonies that accompany it ; they resemble in 
essence, if not always in form, those in use among the 
Kazaks and the Kirghiz. The negotiations are conducted 
and the betrothal concluded by brokers (barmi) sent by 
the suitor's father, who pays a kalyn (p'yosma, pro- 
nounced choma) to the father of the affianced bride ; 
but the latter, instead of returning only an insignificant 
present according to th^ Turkic custom, sends back 
almost the equivalent of what he receives and the kalyn 
or choma does not represent the purchase-price of the 
wife.* The marriage-rite itself is divided into three 
parts : the ceremony by which the young girl is parted 
from the gods of her family ; the transfer to the bride- 
groom's house and the sham struggle between his friends 
and the friends and relations of the girl, which typifies 
the old wars in consequence of which the clans obtained 
jus connubii among one another ; lastly, the introduction 
of the bride to her husband's domestic hearth, the puri- 
fication which she is made to undergo and the partaking 
of tsamba, butter and milk (this is the confarreatio), 
She 'then receives a new name, for she is as a new-born 
child to her husband's family ; next, she takes between 
her teeth a piece of wood, which her husband bites 
between his, and twists a rope out of a few strands of 
wool which he holds in his hand. The whole thing 
ends with a great banquet and with part-songs, executed 

* The wife ia considered to have always belonged to the family which, 
she enters by the marriage-rite. Her father, who has provided for her 
maintenance until the wedding-day, is like a foster-father whose expenses 
are refunded with the kalyn (C/> "A Scientific Mission to Upper Asia/' 
Vol. U,, p. 114)- 



Uibct 259 

alternately by the girls and the young men ; * he who 
stops short when his turn comes to improvise a distich 
or quatrain has to pay forfeit. 

The matrimonial bond is indissoluble in principle 
and it seems, if my information be correct, that there 
is no legally organised divorce. However, the hu-oumi 
has the right to put away his wife for a grave reason, 
such as adultery. When the husband dies, the wife 
continues to be bound by marriage to the brothers of 
the deceased ; but, if she have no children, she can re- 
sume her liberty, provided that she have taken cure to 
announce her intention before the decease; of the eldest : 
if he agree, he holds one tfhd of a thread of which 
she holds the other, both pronounce the words of the 
separation and break the thread by burning it* This 
rite having been performed, when the decease of the 
first husband takes place, the widow is at liberty to 
return to her own family. It must be remarked that 
the husband must obtain the consent of his brothers 
in order to repudiate his wife against her wish* If the 
younger brothers refuse to part with her and the eldest 
persist in his decision, it may be expedient to divide 
the patrimony, the younger brothers taking their share 
and keeping the wife whom the elder has rejected, 
This proves the exceptional seriousness of the marriage- 
bond and shows that the younger brothers are not 
only, as has been contended, slaves and authorised 
lovers of the wife of their elder brother, but that they 
possess private rights, derived from their ancestors, 
which rights f r all that they usually remain latent 
and slumbering, are capable of being revived in certain 
circumstances. 

It is important that we should not confuse the 
solidity of the marriage-bond with conjugal fidelity* 
There is no fixed connection between these two terms. 

* The itm<j custom pi'uvuitH turning the 



260 TObet 

Tibetan husbands and wives, though united by a very- 
strong chain, as a rule observe none too strictly what 
we should consider their first duty. True, adultery is 
esteemed to be a grievous faultj because it affect? the 
purity of the descent; but it is not a mortal crime: as 
a rule, the husband contents himself with correcting 
his wife and exacting a light penalty, four or five 
rupees, from her accomplice. From the point of view 
of family law and domestic religion, it is the judicial 
notion : Is pater est who obtains control ; the essential 
thing is not so much the material reality of the filiation 
as the legitimacy of the wife, the recognition of the child 
by the father and its solemn initiation into the family 
cult. It is for this reason that the Tibetan who is unable 
to have a child by his wife or wives sometimes introduces 
a stranger into his house and charges him to perpetuate 
his line in his place and stead. In reality, this stranger 
becomes a conventional brother, having the same rights 
as a brother born. In the same way, since hospitality, 
among primitive peoples, consists of the accession of 
the guest to his host's family, it follows that he can 
lay claim to the favours of the lady of the house* This 
is what takes place in Tibet, although the privilege 
is reserved for intimate friends or for distinguished 
persons who deign to honour their host of the 
moment by looking upon themselves as belonging to 
his family. I remember one Tibetan who was extremely 
proud that the head of the embassy of Ladak had shown 
his esteem for him in this way. This custom implies 
polyandry and, in some nations, survives it. 

The Tibetan women enjoy a freedom of demeanour 
unknown to the women or China and of Moslem 
countries ; but the Chinese authors and many European 
writers after them have greatly exaggerated the superiority 
of their condition and their influence upon the family 
and in society. They are perpetual minors, under the 



Hibct 261 

wardship first of their father, then of their husband, 
lastly of their son. They attend to all the duties 
which are most repugnant to their weakness or which 
the ^nen refuse : they work in the fields, fetch water 
from the river in heavy casks, gather the clung along 
the roads, carry the loads of the caravans in the difficult 
places. The Chinese authors, often more yiven to 
argument than to good and faithful observation, have 
given out that they are stronger than the men* This 
allegation is utterly incorrect, although, in truth, I need 
hardly say that they are less feeble than the Chinese 
women and, in general, more robust than the pale scribes 
of the Imperial Legate, tho firmness of whose wrists 
does not equal the elegance of their pencils. If they 
carry things with a high hand in household matters, 
this is due more especially to the idleness of their 
husbands ; besides, they would not be women if they 
did not know how to profit by the plurality of their 
lords and masters in order to stir up rivalries between 
them, play off one against the other and thus attain 
their ends. There are some who have one of the 
brothers as their favourite and make the lives of the 
others so miserable that they drive them to a division 
of the property or to exile. But it is a fur cry from 
this to laying down the principle that the Tibetan woman 
is the mistress in the house and, as it matter of fact, 
she is not a little despised and harshly treated. I gave 
up counting the number of times that Tibetans expressed 
to me their surprise that England was governed by a 
queen and it was beautiful to see the air of pity ami 
contempt with which they spoke of it an though J 
were personally responsible for the fact : 

"With us/* they would conclude, "the female line 
is the inferior*'* 

However, I rose again in their esteem when I 
explained to them that, if a woman was then reigning 5n 



262 TTibet 

London, it was only because the last king had left no 
male posterity. The Tibetan nuns stand far below the 
monks in the general opinion and are hardly superior 
to the laity. The murder of a woman is settled ky a 
compensation half as great as that exacted for the murder 
of a man. Tibetan polyandry has no kind of relation 
with matriarchism : it is only a form of patriarchism no 
less absolute in its principle than the Chinese or Roman 
forms. Those who imagine that polyandry marks a 
transition between matriarchism and patriarchism might 
lay stress, in support of their theory, on the fact that, in 
Tibet or, at least, in several parts of that country, the 
consent of the brother of.a girl's mother is required 
before she can be given in marriage, But patriarchism 
has never implied the suppression of all relations between 
an individual and his mother's family ; marriage breaks 
only the judicial and religious bonds that connected a 
daughter with her father : it allows the natural bonds to 
subsist ; the parents of the girl continue to be her 
protectors after her marriage : they have the right to 
make representations to the husband if he behave badly, 
to take back their daughter if she be ill-treated, 
abandoned or become a widow, to see to it that her 
interests are respected ; and this protection may, in 
certain cases, extend to the daughter's daughter without 
there being any need to seek an explanation in the 
hypothesis of a primitive matriarchism, which there is 
nothing in the case at issue to justify. 

The Tibetan families arc moderately prolific : more 
so than the French, less than the Chinese. Our own 
investigations agree sufficiently well with the information 
which the prefect of Nagchu gave us concerning 
Gyangtse and Lhasa to permit us to state that a 
polyandric family numbers, on an average, seven or 
eight viable children, say about three children for two 
parents* The monogamous households procreate less 



ttibet 263 

absolutely, more proportionally. Girls are a little less 
numerous than boys, at the rate of seven to eight, 
according to the prefect of Nagchu, which is the exact 
ratio which Sir Alexander Cunningham gives for Ladak.^ 
It cannot, therefore, be said that the insufficiency of 
daughters was the cause of the institution or the reason 
for the continuance of polyandry. On the contrary^ 
there are too many women in Tibet to-day and many of 
them do not get married for these two reasons, that, on 
the average, there are a few more husbands than wives 
in the Tibetan families and that a host of men arc 
devoted to religious celibacy, Some of them become 
nuns, a larger number abandpn themselves to prostitu- 
tion, In all the towns and in the smallest villages, 
there are unmarried women who ostensibly ket k p small 
businesses and particularly drinking-bars ; but brandy 
and beer are the least important things that they sell. 
Lhasa is no less renowned for the multitude of its 
courtesans than for the multitude of its monks ; and 
a Tibetan who was not apt at glossing over the truth 
told me, one day, that, like the majority" of his 
countrymen, he went there on pilgrimage more from 
the first motive than the second. In the main, the 
Tibetans are very immoral, from our point of view, 
and they are too coarse to attach much importance 
to the matter, 

In the eyes of a passing traveller, the interior of 
the Tibetan families seems devoid of light and joy, so 
wretched is the appearance of things : outside, an icy 
cold prevails and the whirling snowstorm rages : inside, 
a poor, smoky, stinking, almost useless fire burns ; the 
tent or house is dirty, uncomfortable, cold and km* t 
with its felts too much worn to soften the hardness of 
the ground ; the clothes are neglected and full of vermin, 
the food insipid and dull, the duties rough or mesm* 
And yet none loves his country and his home HO fondly 



264 

as the Tibetan : to him his sullen and obstinate country 
is the finest in the world ; for him outside his dilapidated 
house, outside his tattered tent, shaken by the wind, 
there is neither peace nor mirth. He finds means of 
being gay oftener than sad ; he has a fine time of it and 
enjoys himself at a cheap cost. A cup of buttered tea 
or a pot of beer, with a good pipe of tobacco ; a noisy 
talk, seasoned with spicy jests ; a lively game of dice or 
huckle-bones: that is all a Tibetan asks to make him 
happy, I did not notice that their amusements were 
very much varied : what matter, if they always find a 
now pleasure in them ? In this connection, I will point 
out a mistake made by Mr. Rockhill, who is usually 
such a safe observer : he maintains that the Tibetans 
do not indulge much in games of chance and that, in 
particular, the game of dice is unknown to them. Now 
there is no people more smitten with the passion for 
gambling than the Tibetans : they outdo the Chinese 
themselves and would wager their very shirts, if they 
had any ! The game most commonly played with them 
is just this of dice : they use three cubical dice (cko) 9 
marked, on the opposite faces, i and 6, 2 and 3, 4 and 5. 
But, of sill amusements, those which occupy the first 
place in their opinion are stinging and dancing. They 
have strong voices and do not raise them in so shrill a 
tone as the Turkomans; their songvS and also their dances 
are less gay and less lively, but not devoid of grace. 
Although the slowness and monotony of the voices and 
movements seem sad to us, the Tibetans arc convinced 
that nothing could be more joyous* Their musical in- 
struments are the Hindu guitar (piwang} 9 the guimbard 
or Jew's harp (khapi)^ the bamboo pipe with nix or 
seven holes (tingbu) and the tambourine. They love 
double choirs or men and women, drawn up in opposite 
rows, replying to each other in alternate verses and 
moving slowly forwards and backwards in time to the 



265 

music. They indulge in these musical exercises especially 
in the spring and always surround them with a certain 
solemnity: the date is settled beforehand and the men 
and ttomen who are to take part in them must have 
made their ablutions and donned clean garments, as if 
for a religious ceremony. It would be unbecoming to 
dance at random and out of due form, merely for 
amusement The Tibetans have the habit of singing 
when going through the different labours of agriculture: 
ploughing, sowing, reaping- In Turkestan, Cherchen is 
the only place where 1 observed the same custom. In 
1892, at Leh, we were present at a dance similar in 
every respect to that at whick Bogle assisted at Jikatsc 
in the last century: a large number of men ami women 
dancing very slowly in a circle, with a few men cutting 
extraordinary capers in the middle,*' 1 ' The women who 
took part in this dance all belonged to the nobility ; 
for only ladies of high degree arc permitted to dance 
before the king ; it is their duty and their privilege, 
In this case, the king was represented by the vizier 
of the Maharajah of Kashmir, 

*C. R, Markham : Narrtttive of tht Mission > &C M p* 92* 



CHAPTER VI 

SOCIAL ORGANISATION 

Ari&tocrtvtic organisation nf society, stability of social conditions, heredi- 
tary character of the professions Nobles and commoners. 

TIBETAN society is essentially aristocratic, with hardly 
any of the compromises tbat have been introduced into 
the social systems of China or Turkestan. There is an 
hereditary nobility, which concentrates in its own hands 
all such wealth, power and influence as the lay element 
has preserved. As for the clergy, I will not mention it 
here ; its communities are neither more nor less than 
collective nobles more powerful than the others. 

The hereditary principle rules everything and makes 
itself felt everywhere. Each man is very solidly, if not 
indissolubly linked to the profession and condition even 
as to the house of his father. The constitution of the 
family is excellently designed to perpetuate in one and 
the same line the possession of the same lands and, as 
far as possible, to prevent the property from being 
parcelled out and passing from hand to hand. Not only 
do the sons succeed to their fathers* estates, but they 
succeed also to their callings. The son of an official is 
an official ; none is an administrative secretary, a farmer, 
a painter or a tinker, if his father have not followed the 
same profession before him. A few exceptions are met 
with, but their rarity confirms the rule. The protonotwjr 
of the prefecture of Nagchu exhibited profound astonish- 
ment when 1 asked him what his father had been; truly* it 
would have been a wonderful thing if they had ventured 

366 



Uibet 267 

to profane the corporation of protonotaries by the intro- 
duction of people who could not have qualified with 
a respectable number of quarterings of protonotarial 
nobility ! 

There is something in all this that recalls the Indian 
castes, with less rigour and complication, however. It 
does not appear that there is anything to prevent a 
man from passing from one to another equally honour- 
able profession, and Tibetan society is not, like that of 
^Hindustan, divided into it host of small and strictly 
exclusive clans. I should look upon it rather, in HO far 
as 1 was able to ascertain the state of things, as divided 
into different classes between which were barriers difficult 
to overcome: nobles, burgesses, plebeians, serfs, pariahs. 
The last all belong to certain despised trades which are 
followed by none but pariahs from father to son, such 
as the smith's, the corpse*carrier ? s, the currier's and the 
butcher's, all of which imply religious defilement. 1 do 
not think that we must look here for an effect of 
Buddhism, for the smith's occupation is not Wamablc 
from the point of view of the doctrines of Sukyji 
Muni* If a person belonging to an honourable class 
of society be deprived, through hard times, of every 
means of existence, he will beg rather than take to one 
of those derogatory professions* There are degrees 
among the pariahs themselves : the smith despises the 
currier and the latter the bearer of the dead. The 
trades which are accounted honourable arc not cither 
all on the same footing and a tinker, for inntaticc, is 
less esteemed than a maker of religious statuettes, AH 
a general rule, the arts connected with religion confer 
a special dignity upon those who practise them ami 
place them apart among all the workmen ; this 
Favoured treatment they evidently owe to Buddhism. 
What makes it very difficult in practice for a man to 
change his trade in order to rise in the social scale is 



268 TObet 

that the employers take no apprentices from among 
the sons of the profane. When, however, a pariah 
succeeds, by way of exception, in following a decent 
trade and making money at it, he is none the less 
exposed to the scorn of respectable people, who treat 
him as an intruder, and, at the same time, he loses the 
esteem of the pariahs, who spurn him as a traitor. 
Everybody refuses to accept him as a son-in-law and 
should, at last, a decent, but poor man be found who. 
submits to stoop, for the sake of a little money, 
and to give his daughter to the pariah's son, the original 
stain remains attached to the latter and also to the issue 
of this mixed marriage and will not be wiped out until 
the second generation. 

It is still more difficult, not to say impossible, for 
commoners to enter the ranks of the nobility. They 
may succeed when, by chance, a needy noble consents to 
give his daughter to a wealthy commoner ; in time, the 
descendants of the latter may be looked upon as noble, 
if they always manage to marry girls of noble birth 
during several generations ; but this is not easy, for 
it is a debasement for a nobleman to allow his daughter 
to pass into an inferior class* As for the aspirant to 
nobility, his position is an embarrassing and ambiguous 
one. I was given the instance of a man of Ladak 
who, having acquired a considerable fortune, succeeded 
in allying himself by marriage to an aristocratic family : 
during his lifetime, he was able to command more or 
less respect by virtue of his money ; but, after his death, 
there was none to attend his funeral : neither the nobles, 
who had never looked upon him as one of themselves, 
nor the commoners, whom he had disowned and who 
now disowned him in their turn. Class prejudice is 
stronger than religion itself. The Buddhist king 
of Ladak and the little Moslem kings of Baltistan 
consent willingly to enter into mutual matrimonial 



269 

alliances, but they agree to no match between their 
family and that of a cot-religionist of inferior rank. As, 
on the other hand, there are but few opportunities of 
self-enrkhment, since big business is almost unknown 
and trade is in its infancy and almost entirely in the 
hands of the government and of the lay or religious 
aristocracy, it follows that, even as there are great 
obstacles opposed by manners to the change of class, 
there appear but few aspirants to any such change. 
The stability of social conditions is therefore very great. 
The monarchy has done nothing to impair it; for the 
purpose of government it has employed the nobility, 
in whose favour it has reservtyUall the important public 
offices, so that official and noble arc synonymous terms. 
The government delivers no patents of nobility ; only, 
it may happen that a commoner, thanks to exceptional 
merit or singular good fortune, rises to one of the 
highest places in the State : should his descendants 
succeed m maintaining the position, they will end by 
taking rank among the hereditary aristocracy. 

Apart from the private domains which they have 
inherited from their ancestors, the Tibetan nobles receive 
from the State, by way of fiefs, lands of more or less 
considerable extent, which constitute the salary attached 
to the office which they fill ; they exercise rights of 
justice, taxation, requisition and base service over these 
lands in the place of the government- In return, they 
owe the latter a certain annual fine and a certain military 
contingent in case of need* The population that inhabit* 
these seigniorial domains is in a state of serfdom which 
my imperfect information does not allow me to define 
with exactness* It appears that, by law, no man is bound 
to the soil and that all arc free, at any time, to leave the 
master's service ; but, in practice, they remain heredi- 
tary servants of an hereditary master, in consequence 
of the very great difficulty of finding the means* of 



270 Utbet 

livelihood elsewhere. These serfs are called miser or 
yog (gyog); they are husbandmen, herdsmen, artisans, 
office-clerks, domestic servants and secretaries and they 
give their work for a certain salary or a ccrtaitl share 
in the profits of their work. The State, on its side, 
possesses private domains, organised and administered 
in the same manner, and it may be said that the State, 
or rather the King, is only a great noble, richer than 
the others, but possessing, besides, like our own 
mediaeval kings, a conspicuous right of property over all' 
the land of the kingdom, in addition to their born serfs, 
the nobles have around them some men who have taken 
service with them of their* own free will, in the hope of 
obtaining a decent post through their protection and of 
nuking their fortune : these dependants are usually 
younger sons who were not comfortable under the elder 
brother's roof. Lastly, let us add to these different social 
classes that of the freeholders, of the small landed pro- 
prietors, who, though plebeians, are able to dispose of 
their goods at their pleasure and owe nothing to any- 
body, with the exception of the taxes, military service, 
forced labour and requisition due to the State. 

The territories of the nomads of the north-east, 
which are not within the jurisdiction of Lhasa, have a 
social organisation similar to the above, but simpler and, 
probably, olden Each of the different kings is surrounded 
by a court of hereditary barons, who divide the chief 
offices of State among themselves and receive per- 
petual concessions of land, of which the inhabitants are 
their serfs. Under them are the chiefs of tribes, also 
hereditary and invariably the largest land-owners of their 
respective tribes, and, next, the chiefs of clans, who form 
the lowest degree of the nomad nobility* The monarchy 
is a comparatively modern function which has been $et 
above the two essential and primitive groups, the tribe 
and the clan. These appear to be, in the first instancy 



TEiftet 271 

more or less extensive families, whose heads possess not 
only political power, but also all the authority of the father 
of the family and all the prerogatives of the landowner. 
The Tibetans have no other surname than that of their 
tribe' 1 ' and the titles which they give to their chiefs 
are the same that serve to denote the relations between 
master and servant and between landlord and tenant. 

To sum up, the great mass of the lay society of 
Tibet appeared to me to be divided into two principal 
-classes : that of the very powerful and highly honoured 
lords and masters on the one hand ; and, on the other, 
that of the menials and serfs, whose condition is a pretty 
wretched one, except in the cg^ of those possessing the 
master**; confidence. Almost all the men whom we met 
were dependent on the great landlords, had charge of 
only a small part of the latter's property, had heavy 
burdens and but little profit, did not own the right of 
disposing of a single sheep and were concerned only to 
live from day to day with the least possible toil. As for 
what might be called the independent middle-class, it 
seems unimportant and uuinfluential ; the small owners 
of land and herds are generally over head and ears in 
debt, to the greater profit of the nobles and, especially, of 
the monks, who lend to them at a high rate of intercut, 
allow their obligations to mount up, suddenly exact 
payment when they know their debtors to be insolvent 
and then have the goods of the unfortunate borrowers 
seized and sold at a contemptible price. However, these 
are questions which are as yet very obscure and which 
would require long, careful and patient study made on 
the spot. I am fully aware that my observation* are 
incomplete, but I shall be satisfied if I have succeeded in 
attracting the attention of an intelligent traveller to a few 
important points, 

The annuls of the Soei (nixth century) show that thto waft sdlO the 
emit among the Tanghiung. 



CHAPTER VII 

ECONOMIC CONDITIONS: CATTLE-BREEDING, AGRICULTURE, 
MANUFACTURES 

Social conditions of economic development Physical conditions 
Agriculture Cattle-breeding Hunting Mines Manufactures. 

THE family and social organisation which I have just 
sketched is very unfavourable to the good economic 
management of the contry* It discourages the spirit of 
initiative and enterprise. Everyone is certain of finding 
all that he needs in the paternal house, which is common 
to all the sons ; everyone is confined to the condition 
and profession of his father, without having the means 
of raising himself. Those, however, who are too 
cramped in the too-crowded family home ; those who 
dislike their father's calling ; those who aim at issuing 
from the obscure station in which their birth has placed 
them : all those, in short, who, among us, form the 
most powerful lever of the progress of the public wealth 
go to swell the numbers of the dependants of the nobles 
or the countless army of the monks, who live at the cost 
of the industrious population and accumulate ever-in- 
creasing' capital, whose economic activity is accompanied 
by a great waste of strength* A few useful trades arc 
considered vile and are reserved for the pariahs ; a man 
of decent station who lapses into poverty prefers to 
beg rather than follow a derogatory profession* The, 
serfs have no interest in improving tnc cultivation of the 
soil or the breeding of cattle, because they would gain 

272 



TEibet 273 

much less by it than their masters; the small landowners 
are crushed by the great proprietors and the convents, 
who bear them down under the weight of taxation, ruin 
them {>y usury, prevent them from improving their 
condition by disposing of their property, monopolise the 
produce and fix the market prices ; the large individual 
or collective landlords are not stimulated by competition 
to keep on developing their output. And so, from 
top to bottom, routine reigns side by side with neglect 
v and all efforts towards improvements are banished, for 
they would be almost always useless and sometimes 
dangerous. To these general facts, common to the 
whole of Tibet, must be adcjjjd, in the eastern portion 
of the country, political troitoles, struggles between the 
different tribes, local brigandage and lack of security 
for life and property. 

Bad physical conditions join with bad social conditions 
to make Tibet one of the poorest countries in the world* 
We have read how naturally scanty the vegetation is* 
Spread throughout the whole of Tibet are great spaces 
covered with snow and rocks and occupied by rugged 
slopes on which nothing grows. The spaces that are 
not absolutely barren produce, in the greatest portion 
of the country, only an herbaceous vegetation which 
is anything but luxurious. In 1892, 1893 and 1894, 
we travelled in Tibet without seeing any timber. The 
forests do not go beyond a line drawn about NJK. 
by E,, starting a few miles to the north of Lhasa, 
passing through Batsumdo, to the north of Dergyeh, 
and ending at Ltasen Gompa, at the bend of the Yellow 
Riven To the north of this line there are only in certain 
specially favoured spots a few shrubs or bushes which 
could easily be counted. In Ladak, the juniper-tree 
(chugpa) and the tamarisk (ombu) are the only trees 
that grow naturally ; on the northern banks of the 
Nam Cho, a few juniper-trees appear ; tuul, in the 



274 tttbet 

basin of the Upper Mekong, at about Lat 33, there 
are a few dwarf willows (changma). In the south, the 
same species exist, but the willows are taller ; one also 
comes across the pine and the fir-tree (somching)* which 
are by far the most wide- spread species, the holly-tree, 
the birch and, in small quantities and only, I believe, 
in Eastern Tibet, the cedar, the oak and the dm. Nor, 
for that matter, is the absence of variety made up for 
by plenty, for the wood is nowhere sufficient to provide 
fuel for the natives, who use dried horse or cow-dung 
in all parts of the country. The crops, which, in 
Western Tibet, reach as far as the foot of the Karaul 
Davan and the western extremity of Lake Pagong and, 
in Eastern Tibet, as farT,s Dam and Labug Gompa, 
are not at all extensive, nowhere form large, continuous 
fields and are only like so many small spots of mould 
on the huge skeleton of the Tibetan mountains. 

Generally speaking, the ground and climate suit 
only barley, which does not require a very rich soil nor 
great moisture and which is sown in May> when the 
winter frosts arc over, and gathered in September. 
This cereal grows up to a level of 15,000 feet in Ladak 
and of 14,450 at Dam. It might, perhaps, be possible 
to grow it in a few districts at present entirely un- 
cultivated, such as, for instance, certain cantons of the 
basin of the Upper Mekong which arc below 14,700 
feet ; but it is evident that there are no great hopes to 
be based upon this possible extension of the areas fit for 
cultivation. The price of barley in the places where it 
is reaped is more than double that which it costs in 
Chinese Turkestan, varying from i\ to i|j rupees the 
bushel. Wheat, which is rarer and of inferior quality> 
grows at a highest level of 13,000 feet in Spiti and <Jt 
12,450 feet in the Jycrkundo country. The yield is 
very small, does not often exceed the proportion of five 
to one and reaches ten or twelve only in the very beafy 



tHbet 275 

warm and low valleys. They say that rice is grown at 
Lhasa at a height of over 11,500 feet, but the informa- 
tion which I received varies in this respect. In any 
case, Jibetan rice is very bad and hard, more or less red 
in colour and formed of small and irregular grains ; and 
the well-to-do send to China for the rice which they 
consume. In the matter of vegetables, those which 
grow best and in the largest quantity are onions (tsoug) ; 
they are found wild, in the uninhabited districts, at a 
height of 17,400 feet. Turnips and pease are also very 
common. As for fruits, the first place, in point of 
quantity, is occupied by nuts (suirka) and apples, I 
have stated elsewhere all thejfruits and vegetables grown 
at Lhasa. As rain is scar*^ they generally resort to 
artificial irrigation- Agricultural implements are few in 
number and clumsy and thin shortness of took aggravates 
the ill effects of the thankless soil The plough (M} t 
which is of Indian origin, consists of a piece of bent 
wood with a sock at the lower end : this machine is 
drawn by a yak and does no more than scratch the earth. 
The Tibetan husbandmen use also the spade and the hoe 
and they reap with the sickle, I do not know if there 
are any harrows outside of Ladak, 

The chief resources of Tibet at the present time 
lie in the pastures and herds. There are no natural 
meadows and, so to speak, no artificial meadows except 
a few fields of lucerne. The food of the cattle is supplied 
solely by spontaneous common pastures, indifferently rich 
in consequence, but at least very wide. The grass is very 
nourishing, but hard and rough and is suited only to 
specially adapted cattle, Sheep and yaks are the most 
numerous and the most valuable kinds, Kverybody 
knows the yak (gyag)^ the kutas of the Turkomans, a 

* The inittal $ in qutanucnt, like mnny initial It'tlcr* in Tibetan; the 
final ' in pronounced very hard, according to the gitrturut rule : that in 
why we tranvcrlhc it with a ft. 



276 {Tibet 

very large, grunting ox, with long, black (sometimes 
grey, or even white) hair ; it is used as a pack-animal ; 
it gives hair for the manufacture of tents and coarse 
stuffs, meat which is savoury, although a little tougji, and 
hides for export ; the female, moreover, gives excellent 
milk, similar in every respect to that of the cow, of 
which the Tibetans make butter and cheese. The butter 
is white, of moderate firmness, and has an insipid, but 
not at all disagreeable flavour ; it is very much like 
Russian butter. This commodity plays a leading part 
in the life of Tibet, which is the real land of butter : 
it forms the staple food and serves as pomade, cold- 
cream, vaseline, lamp-oil jinl a material for modelling 
different religious figureij tw certain festivals. The 
price of a good pack-yak varies between [5 and 20 
rupees at Nagchu and Jyerkmulo; the beasts intended 
to carry burdens are naturally exceptional animals and 
an ordinary yak is worth, on an average, only ro to 
12 rupees. 

The sheep supply meat, furs for the winter and 
wool for export and for the manufacture of the native 
stuffs. In Western Tibet, where the yaks are less 
numerous, sheep are used for the purpose of carrying 
loads. The Tibetan sheep is less fat than the Kirghiz 
sheep and the sheep of Ladak, a country with but little 
pasture-land, is smaller than that of Eastern or Central 
Tibet. Its flesh is less delicate than that of the Khotan 
sheep, the fat more plentiful ; the wool is less fine, is 
thick, hard and rather coarse. The price of the wool 
is about the same as at Khotan, 26 to 28 rupees the 
hundredweight; only, it must be remembered that, the 
cost of living being dearer in Tibet than in Turkestan, 
the Tibetans in reality derive less profit from the wool 
of their flocks than the Turkomans, A fat sheep which 
you could buy at Polur for a rupee or a little over 
generally costs 2j rupees in the Tibetan pastures. Tibet 



tHbet 277 

supports only a small number of goats, the inhabitants 
caring for neither the flesh nor the skin, which is 
reserved for people of the lowest class. It seems that 
they do not know how to shave the goats' wool, except in 
Ladak, This very dry and rocky country is well-suited 
for breeding goats ; it contains over 80,000, all very 
small in size ; their wool, amounting to 360 hundred- 
weight at 300 rupees the hundredweight, is sent to 
Kashmir, where it is employed for the manufacture of 
shawls, together with the superior quality of wool which 
conies from Turfan, 

The horses are few in number, small and indifferent, 
excepting on the shores of he Koko Nor, where a host 
of horses, of Mongol breed, graze: these are rather short- 
legged and stubby, with short, stout bodies, thick necks, 
short, wide heads and low cruppers* They differ sensibly 
from the Kirghiz horses and are exactly similar to those 
of Polur. Excellent ambling-horses, good trotters on 
occasion, they are, above all, resisting, sober, gentle and 
patient; they cover very long distances without stopping, 
drinking or feeding, in the deep sand of the desert or or* 
the hard rocks of the mountains, under the burning sun 
of summer or in the snow and the icy winds of winter, 
content to wait until the halting-place for some brackish 
water and a little grass of the consistency of pen-holders 
or pencils, always even-tempered and ready to start again 
at the first signal A few of them, by way ot exception, 
are big and long in the body ; I have even seen some 
of the size of our Norman beasts. An ordinary saddle- 
horse, of suitable age, fetches 80 rupees at Lnasa and 
only 50 at Sining : these prices must be doubled for 
an animal fit for the service of an official, The grazing- 
grounds of the Koko Nor, which are probably the best 
m Tibet, feed oxen and cows similar and not inferior 
to those in Switzerland, The crossing of the cow 
with a yak gives a special product called d%o (mdzo). 



278 Uibet 

Donkeys are found only in Ladak; at Lhasa, they 
know of that animal's existence, but hold it in great 
contempt ; and we once greatly shocked a worthy 
Tibetan by offering him one of our donkeys *as a 
present. 

Side by side with the domestic animals, the wild 
animals form a resource that is not to be despised. The 
nomads are good hunters; they make long journeys, 
sometimes lasting for months, in search of game and 
penetrate to distant, uninhabited and very inhospitable 
regions. They go to the north of the Nam Cho as far as 
the 34th parallel, rarely as far as the 35th* An astonish- 
ing number of animals find^fic means of supporting life 
in the icy and barren solittfdes of North Tibet* There 
are three kinds which are met with everywhere ; the 
wild yak, which is called dong (brwg) and resembles the 
domestic yak, but is bigger ; the wild ass (cyuus 
hemionus), called kiatig (rkiaxg) by the Tibetans, kulan 
by the Turkomans and Mongols, which has the fawn 
colouring, the size and the appearance of a mule ; and 
the antelope (kiik in Turkic, chawa^ goba or tsod in 
Tibetan). There are five different kinds of antelopes, 
of which I know only the Turkic names : the yurga ; 
the sarygh tskkeh) which has very long, straight, grooved 
horns and is perhaps the tsod of the Tibetans ; the aka ; 
the djura ; and the white kukm&t?' Nowhere are there 
so many of these different animals as in the upper basin 
of the Yellow River, to the north of the Golok country* 
where they wander by thousands in the fine pastures, 
forsaken by men, which extend over the wide valleys of 
this region. It is the most wonderful hunting-ground 
in Asia. The Tibetans hunt the yaks and the wild asses 
for their skins, the antelopes for their horns, which the 
Chinese pharmacopoeia regards as possessing the most 

* There arc two other varities of Iclik which are not met with In th 
mountains : the 2>ug*, or deer, and the djiran> or gazelle* 



mbet 279 

marvellous tonic and restorative properties. Hares 
abound in the remotest and wildest districts ; but 
superstition protects them against the hunters. The 
brownbears are more fastidious than the animals already 
named : although we established their existence all along 
our road between the Nam Cho ami Jyerkundo, they 
appear not to frequent the deserted portions of the high 
table-lands. The wolves penetrate a little further : they 
are small-sized and not feared by men. We camped 
more than once near a lair of wolves, but no one thought 
of taking any special precautions ; they are dangerous 
only to the sheep and dogs, which are very frightened of 
them, except the huge red-haired mastiffs of Lhasa. 
Foxes are very common in Both the south and north and 
avoid only the most inaccessible and the coldest regions, 
Lastly, there are other animals which are met with 
only further south, beyond the roads which we followed ; 
such are the small monkey, which, in Eastern Tibet, 
comes as far as Nyarong, at Lat, 32 , the lynx, the 
squirrel, the otter and the panther. The skin of this last 
animal is especially esteemed and the fashionable Tibetans 
love to trim their clothes with it. A panther-skin costs 
at least ten rupees at Lhasa and a fine one quite double 
the money. On the whole, Tibet is far from supplying 
so many or such valuable furs as North Mongolia and 
Siberia. The wild animal most profitable to the hunter 
ia the musk-deer, moschus moschlfsrus^ known as Uiba 
(gkba), I will only just mention the, various birds j 
partridges, which are very common on the shores of the 
Nam Cho ; wild geese, frequent in North-eastern Tibet ; 
cranes in the same parts ; the Tibetans do not care to 
waste their powder on them. Although many lake* 
abound in fish, as, for instance, the Nam Cho, and we 
caught small trout in the basin of the Mekong at a 
height of 14,750 feet, fishing does not seem to be 
in favour nor to constitute an appreciable resource 



280 mbet 

for the population, at least - in the districts which we 
visited, except at Chuchul on the Indus, south of Leh, 

It is difficult to give a valid opinion on the mineral 
wealth of Tibet, This is probably important. Auriferous 
ground is found more or less in every direction, especially 
in the valley of the Do Chu or Takiang, where gold costs 
only fifteen times its weight in silver, and in the province 
of Chang ; there are copper-mines, silver-mines and 
mines of precious stones, such as turquoises and lapis 
lazuli ; sulphur, sal ammoniac and borax are plentiful, 
The Tibetans carefully conceal their lodes of metals and 
gems from foreign travellers, because they suspect the 
latter of having no other object than to steal their under- 
ground treasures : a serious thing, for, if a profane hand 
were laid on the riches buried in the bowels of the earth, 
the incensed divine dragon would at once cause them to 
disappear and would spread poverty through the land. 
This superstition makes the Tibetans very cautious of 
exploiting the subsoil ; but, even if it did not exist, the 
rudimentary condition of their industries would not allow 
them to make a great profit from the extraction of 
mineral matters. 

The Tibetans display an uncommon ignorance and 
awkwardness in the most usual and every-day trades. 
The smiths, whose stock of tools is often confined to a 
small anvil, a bad hammer of Chinese origin and a 
bellows resembling those used by the Soudanese, do the 
little that they know how to do with the greatest clumsi- 
ness. We were never able to use a steel axe made at 
Lhasa : a prehistoric flint axe would have been prefer- 
able ; and yet it was the master-piece of the best workman 
in the capital. In the matter of wood-work, the Tibetans, 
who, in the parts which we visited, have no other instru- 
ments than the axe and the adze, make hardly anything 
themselves except churns, buckets and, in Dergyeh ana 
at Lhasa, stools and wooden cups or basins, which 



ttfbet 2si 

latter are the principal ariS only indispensable piece of 
native table-ware. In the east, the framework of the 
houses is almost always built up by carpenters from 
Sechuoji. The rosary-beads, the bamboo tea-strainers 
and many of the wooden basins are of Chinese or Hindu 
origin. The pottery is of native make, but they use the 
Chinese wheel. They do not know how to cut or set 
their precious stones. The art of the armourer and of 
the worker in copper, which have always been in favour 
^throughout Asia, are less neglected than those which I 
have mentioned. Lhasa and Dergyeh are the two most 
important centres that I know of these two industries, 
some of whose products are not to be despised either 
for their solidity and fitness tu; for their ornamentation ; 
but the daggers, swords, gun-barrels, tinder-boxes and 
copper tea-pots that are turned out by the little Tibetan 
workshops are far from satisfying the local consumption. 
1 may also mention, in particular, the metal-workm, 
who make trinkets, mostly of solid silver and a little 
coarse, but not without a certain artistic stamp ; at the 
same time, it must be noted that the most skilful 
silversmiths in Lhasa are natives of Nepal* 

Apart from and above all the manufactures must be 
ranked that of wool-weaving and the arts necessary to 
religious worship, which are comparatively flourishing 
because of the special encouragement which they receive* 
The religious arts are generally practised by the lamas, 
who print books, paint frescoes on the walls of the 
convents, cast copper-gilt, broir/,e and silver statuettes 
and make sweet-smemng sticks out of sandal-wood, 
powdered juniper, musk and incense. The production 
of woollen stuffs is very considerable everywhere and, 
although they are very greatly used, is sufficient for 
local consumption and, to a certain extent, supplies the 
foreign trade. At Lhasa or in the surrounding districts, 
they make very thick, warm and stout blankets which 



282 

are perhaps the best of all travelling-rugs. In the tents 
and houses, all over Tibet, one steps on felts which are 
rather indifferent and very inferior to the Chinese or 
Kirghiz felts. The nomads, in the long leisure* hours 
of their pastoral life, weave a large quantity of wool and 
themselves make it into very coarse stuffs, probably similar 
to those which their ancestors manufactured in the sixth 
century. In the villages of Eastern Tibet, the inhabit- 
ants weave woollens of a little superior quality, streaked 
with green, red, blue and yellow stripes and adorned 
with little crosses. But the best fabrics, known by the 
name of tug (pntg), are manufactured in certain towns 
between Lhasa and Tachilhunpo and especially at 
Gyangtse, which is the chfef centre of the industry. 
They are dyed in one colour, blue, yellow, or dark red, 
this last shade being by far the most sought after. The 
piece, which is ten good fathoms (about twenty yards) 
long and only twelve inches wide, is sold at a price that 
varies according to the quality : the more indifferent 
kind fetches 6;. at Lhasa ; for ^4 you get a very fine 
cloth ; and for 6 (about 20;, the square yard) you can 
buy one of the marvels of human industry, a stuff 
thinner than cloth, but supple, strong, warm, smooth and 
glossy, very different from the poor specimens which 
European travellers have brought back with them so far. 
This industry belongs to the government, which obtains 
the necessary wool in the pastures of the north on the 
score of taxation and distributes it among the inhabitants 
of the midland districts with orders to weave it free of 
cost for the government ; this forced labour takes the 
place of all taxes in the houses subject to it. The State 
sells a portion of the produce to the trade at a rate settled 
beforehand ; it sells another portion to the population 
through the medium of special commissaries, who 
themselves usually hand over the retail transactions 
to the local officials ; in that case, the government 



283 

overcharges the prices in accordance with the needs of 
the treasury^ the commissary adds his commission, the 
prefect allots himself a small profit, the head of the 4 
canton ^>ays himself for his trouble and the ratepayer is 
charged twice as much for the woo! ^is it is worth. 
It is certain that, if weaving were free, the prices 
would fall noticeably, while individual activity,, at present 
fettered, would have un excellent* opportunity of display- 
ing itself. We thus sec that the most important two 
Industries in Tibet, weaving and the religious arts, are, 
in fact, almost wholly monopolised by the two great 
official powers in the country, the government and the 
convents. 



CHAPTER VIII 

ECONOMIC CONDITIONS ( concluded) ; COMMERCE 

AND ROADS 

The Tibetan's small capacity for commerce The grout trade is in the 
hjtnds of the monks and the chief land-owners; organisation of 
trade Roads to Chinn; to India Tibet'n trade with China The 
markets of Lihiangfu and *fontfkingTibct's trade with British 
India ; xvith other countries The currency. 

TRADE affords an even smaller outlet for private 
enterprise, It is, in fact, almost entirely in the hands 
of the State, the lamas, the grandees and foreigners; 
and there is not, so far as I know, a private individual 
who makes trade his regular and exclusive profession, 
except in Ladak, but only among the Moslems, Yet 
the Chinese look upon the Tibetans as endowed in a 
high degree with the spirit of traffic and brokerage. 
To tell the truth, they deal in all sorts of things so 
soon as the occasion presents itself; and, should the 
occasion not present itself, they readily bring it about, 
offering to all comers every manner of thing in exchange 
for something that seems to them worth more, It is not 
easy to strike a bargain with them, still less to come off 
best at it. Where there is anything to be made, the 
Tibetan displays a resourceful, suspicious, crafty, cunning 
and tenacious spirit ; he scrutinises with the greatest 
attention the object that is offered him in exchange for 
his wares, handles it, smells it, weighs it in his hand and 
tosses his head, discovers all the flaws which it has and 

284 



tribet 285 

ascribes to it all those which it has not, looks at you 
out of the corner of his eye to fathom your views 
and to see the effect produced by his words, gauges 
your commercial capacity, measures the degree of your 
generosity or your avarice, sounds and flatters your 
vanity, tries your patience, for the rest makes no firm 
offer, uses vague circumlocutions and beats about the 
bush indefinitely, shows the greater disinclination to 
conclude the transaction the more advantageous it 
appears to him, docs not bind himself until he is certain 
that he will never obtain better terms and, if, neverthe- 
less, he thinks that he has gone too fur, comes back to 
declare that he has consulted his wife and that she 
refuses to ratify the bargain* and makes you a humble 
bow, putting out his tongue Smd scratching his ear. 

But this is not the way in which a real trader acts* 
Commerce demands more liberty and breadth ; and the 
Tibetan, unlicked highlander that he is, with his in- 
genuous cunning, is too much afraid of being taken in 
and too eager to take in others ever to do much 
business* Besides, he is domesticated to excess, like 
all primitive peoples and particularly nomads ; he does 
not want to see anything new ; and, when, by chance, 
circumstances make him come out of his hole, he is 
uncomfortable, bewildered, and thinks only of returning 
home at the earliest possible moment, incapable as he 
is of altering his habits in the smallest degree or of 
accommodating himself to unaccustomed surroundings, 
At bottom, he is a husbandman and a herdsman and 
is only an occasional dealer. He does not settle 
down to business as a merchant ; all the shops and 
warehouses in the country are kept by Chinamen, 
Nepalese, Kashmirians, Moslems from North-west India, 
Laaak and Baltistan. The drinking-establishmcnts 
(thwgkang) run by native women cannot be considered 
an exception. The business of the home trade is done 



286 mbet 

either in the bazaars of the town (krom^ pronounced tom)^ 
or in the periodical, generally annual fairs which are held 
near the villages or the monasteries. People go to these 
fairs from many hundreds of miles around ; there are 
herdsmen who travel 400 miles to go and sfll their 
produce at Nagchu Jong. There, private individuals, 
shepherds or farmers, exchange their respective wares 
among themselves or sell them to the professional 
traders, who are the foreigners above-mentioned, or to 
the representatives of the great nobles and the monas- 
teries, who, together with the State, are the only 
merchants on a large scale. They alone, in fact, dispose 
of important funds, consisting of their properties, their 
benefices, taxes, perquisite^ more or less voluntary gifts 
and bequests, which are paid, to a good extent, in kind, 
and the produce of the manufactures which they carry 
on, or cause to be curried on for their benefit. Thus, the 
Lhasa government, the heads of the several principalities, 
the officials, the convents accumulate considerable stocks 
of goods, collect in a central point the produce of the 
surrounding country and fit out large caravans to carry 
it to places at several months' march and to bring back 
foreign goods, which they sell off, at the best possible 
profit, at the most favourable time. For the rest, 
princes, lords and lamas all abuse their power to 
increase their gains : if the buyer does not turn up 
of his own accord, they hunt him down and sell him 
at a very high price something for which he has no 
use ; they oblige the villein bound to labour and 
service to work for nothing or at a ridiculous wage, 
force him to sell at a loss everything that he possesses 
and condemn him, for the least fault, to pay a fine 
consisting of so many bricks of tea, furs or pieces of 
stuff. 

The great lay or religious nobles who do a foreign 
trade keep, in the places where this trade is centred^ at 



Uibet 26? 

Tongkor, Darchedo, :: Likiiing or Leh, their responsible 
agents, called t$ottgpon$ y that is to say overseers of 
commerce, who remain constantly at their posts, super- 
intend the warehouse in which their employers' goods 
are kejtt, receive and lodge the caravans dispatched by 
the latter and attend to the operations of buying and 
selling. These tsongpons, some of whom have small 
armies of servants and inferior agents under their orders, 
are men of importance, confidential persons, sometimes 
Delations of their masters, government officials or lamas 
of mark. They arc not the same as our agents or 
managers of branch establishments, for they are bound 
to their principals not only by commercial obligations, 
but also by social duties; hey are their subordinates 
in the capacity of subjects, olledicntial monks, depend- 
ants, serfs or domestic servants, before being so in 
their capacity of business-agents. 

The roads being long, difficult and sometimes 
dangerous, consignments of goods are not made often : 
it is more profitable to fit out the largest caravans 
possible, in order to diminish the general cost, to travel 
only at the best seasons and to be better protected against 
the brigands. Thus we mot, on the road from Nagchu 
to Jyericundo, a caravan dispatched by the chief lama of 
Tachilhunpo that numbered no fewer than Koo horses 
and 90 men* These great convoys are led by tsongpons 
who are similar to those who live abroad and who are 
more or less high in rank according as he who sends 
them is himself a more or less great person. The 
tsongpon has supreme authority over all who accompany 
him ; he can, us a special favour, permit private in- 
dividuals to join the convoy with a limited number oif 
loaded animals, on condition that they submit to his 
command and pay a certain fee- On the journey, he has 
the right to requisition animals and food everywhere and 

* The Tibetan name for T;tsicnlu. 



288 tHbCt 

in the same measure in which his master possesses it ; if 
he be a monk, he receives hospitality in all the convents 
of his order, if a royal or ministerial agent, from all the 
officials, if the agent of a minor noble, from all those who 
keep up relations of hospitality with his employer* This 
organisation of the foreign trade goes back to the 
remotest antiquity; in former days, China knew no other 
and the imperial and royal caravans were no different 
from the political embassies. In the same way, the 
commercial expeditions dispatched periodically to Peking; 
by the Maharajah of Nepal and the chief lamas of Lhasa 
and Tachilhunpo and to Lhasa by the King of Ladak or, 
in his stead, since 1842, by the vizier of the Maharajah 
of Kashmir to this day assupie the character of a political 
mission, 

The means of communication are extremely incon- 
venient and difficult and arc no more encouraging to 
trade thun are the lack of resources of the country and 
the aristocratic organisation of society. What is known 
as a road, him^ or even a high-road chalam (rgy#t&w) t is 
a mere track that crosses valleys deeply set between 
mountains, tumultuous torrents seldom supplied with 
bridges and not always fordable and rugged passes over 
jt 6,000 feet high, on whose slopes the snow lies heaped 
to a thickness of several feet ; the ground, full of dents 
and holes or encumbered with blocks of stone, seldom 
offers a space wide enough to allow two loaded animals 
to pass abreast ; sometimes the road consists only of 
a ledge of a few inches wide jutting oufr from the 
perpendicular wall of the mountain, a ledge covered 
with ice or sticky mud and hanging over deep precipices. 
The yak is the animal best-suited to roads of this sort : 
its weight breaks the ice and it hardly ever slips ; its 
huge mass and its short legs give it a wonderfully firm 
balance, which enables it to pass everywhere and to 
extricate itself from the worst scrapes. It is Hot 



Ufbet 239 

necessary to carry fodder for the yak, which contents itself 
with such grass as it finds, hard though the grass may be ; 
and this quality is particularly valuable on the desert 
roads, devoid of all resources, such as that from Nagchu 
to Jung. But the yaks are lazy, undisciplined, fond 
of feeding and ruminating at their ease ; they can only 
go short stages and carry tolerably light and not easily 
breakable loads, for, instead of marching with even steps, 
in a regular file, like the horses and camels, they go in it 
, troop, promiscuously, shaking from side to side, jumping, 
trotting, knocking one against the other. In the mount- 
ains, they cover only nine or ten miles a day ; over 
flat country, as between Tsaidam and Sitting, one can 
get as many as sixteen mil^s out of them. Horses go 
twice as for in a day as yahfs and they are sometimes 
preferred, although they are more expensive and more 
difficult to feed. 

The high-roads of Tibet may be divided into five 
groups. The first group joins Lhasa with Sining (Ziling 
in Tibetan) and Lanchow, The most westerly of the 
roads of this group, which is also the longest, but the 
most frequented, because it is the only one that is safe 
from the incursions of the Golok brigands, goes through 
Nagchu Jong, the Lugrat and Chumar Rabdun fords 
find Jung in Tsaidam* This road, which was followed 
by Hue, has been gone over by no Europeans south of 
the Do Chu, It is 1,160 miles long, or only 1,130 to 
Tongkor, where the Tibetan agents reside. The yaks 
take 108 days to cover it : 20 days from Lhasa to 
Nagchu, 88 from Nagchu to Sining* It passes through 
populous districts for only 56 miles from Lhasa until 
a little beyond Pumdo Jong and 92 miles from Sining 
to Tongkor Gompa : between thene two narrow belts, 
the traveller comes upon only two small villages, those 
of Nagchu and Jung, in the distance of 1,060 milcs > 
of which over 500 are uninterrupted desert, that 

19 



290 

separates those two localities. At any rate, the region 
which it crosses, being very near the sources of the big 
rivers, does not, as yet, present any very deep erosions 
nor, consequently, great marching difficulties, notwith- 
standing the lofty altitude, Another road, wh&h was 
used in the last century, has been abandoned because 
of the Golok robberies. It is straighter than the former, 
from which it parts a little to the south of the Chumar 
Rabdun fords, to make for Lakes Kyaring and Ngoring, 
between which it passes, and then for Tongkor : it, 
measures 1,060 miles to this last town, of which 800 
are in the desert, and therefore offers no appreciable 
advantage, even if its safety were restored- The road 
which we were the first to reconnoitre and which 
runs past the sources of* the Mekong, Tuchi Gompa, 
Jyerkumlo, the Stongri Cho and Tongkor Gompa is 
not perceptibly longer (r,iro miles) and is uninhabited 
for only 360 miles between the Za Chu and the neigh- 
bourhood of Tongkor Gompa. Still, from the com- 
mercial point of view, it does not compare with that 
which leaves it at Labug Gompa and, passing through 
Archung, Ltasen Gompa, Lhabrang Gompa and Hochow, 
reaches Lanchow, which is the real commercial centre 
of this region. It goes almost wholly through inhabited 
country and the journey is only 1,275 niilesj as against 
1,315, the lengtn of the road used to-day. But the 
Goloks who occupy it allow none save the Lhabrang 
Gompa caravans to pass, even as they leave the Kyaring 
Cho road open only to the chief lama of Tachilhunpo, 
when, every three years, he travels to Peking, and the 
road from Jyerkundo and Tongkor only to the caravans 
of the monasteries around Jyerkundo. 

The second group of roads connects Lhasa and 
Tasienlu (Darchedo)* These roads arc three in 
number and, by a strange chance, the first Europeans to 
see them and travel by them have all been Frenchmen. 



291 

The most southerly, the most direct and also the 
most difficult is that which passes through Gyamdo, 
Lhari, Chobando and Chamdo and has been followed 
so far % only by Hue and Gabet: it is 1,030 miles long 
and takes the yaks three months and a half, M. 
Bonvalot and the Orleans prince inaugurated the middle 
road by Sog Jong and Chamdo, which appears to be 
little used. Lastly, we ourselves were the first to trace 
out the north road through the sources of the Mekong 
and Jyerkumloj the portion which joins this lust point 
to Tasienlu having been covered by Mr. Rockhill in 
1891. This third road is more frequented and is uot 
much longer than the former (1,140 miles, as against 
t, too). The reason for *h$ preference which many 

ive it over Hue's shorter road Is that the latter is 
etestable. The description which the famous missionary 
gave of it cannot be far removed from the exact truth : 
several of the details were confirmed to us by Tibetans 
who had followed it and notably that relating to the 
pass which the yaks can descend only by sliding from 
the top to the bottom of the frozen slope. Never- 
theless, the Imperial Legate of Lhasa never takes any 
other road, because this is the most inhabited and 
the best supplied with resources. To this group we 
may add the road of 540 miles which goes from 
Songpanting to Chamdo through Zogchen Gompa, 
with a branch road to Jycrfcundo, but which is not 
open for regular purposes of commerce and is used 
only by the Songpan smugglers, who are good friends 
with the Manchu bandits. 

The third group joins Lhasa and Likiang in Yunnan, 
The distance 'between those two towns is 950 miles, 
passing through the valley of the Sampo-Brahmaputra as 
far as Chum Jong, through Po Jong, either K'umgka 
or Dayul, Tseku and Wisi. This is the least-known 
district of Tibet. 



292 ttfbet 

The fourth group comprises the roads which connect 
Lhasa with India* The most practical of these is closed 
to commerce by the Tibetan government, acting in 
concert with the Chinese government. It is 32; miles 
long and takes a mounted man in nine days from Lhasa 
to Darjeeling, the terminus of the English railway. The 
open roads reach India through Bhotan and Nepal. 
Tasisudan, the capital of the former country, is only 250 
miles from Lhasa; Khatmandu, the capital of Nepal, is 
530 miles, going through Gyangtse, Tachilhunpo, Saskya, 
Lasikar Jong and Nilam, A fourth road goes from 
Lhasa to Assam through Chetang, Dirang Jong and 
Odalgari, but the traffic on it is insignificant 

The fifth group is composed of" the two roads that 
lead from Lhasa to Leh, one through Tachilhunpo, 
Gartog and Rudok, the other through Senja Jong, 
Ombo and Rudok, The first, although the longer of 
the two (1,340 miles as against 1,175), is the only one 
that carries any considerable traffic, because it passes 
through much more populous districts, the most 
populous, in fact, and the most flourishing of Tibet. 
This is the road taken by the mission of the vi^ie^ 
of Ladak. The traders make the journey in four 
months with yaks and in two and a naif with horse**, 
while the official messengers, who travel day and night 
and change horses at each station, do it in eighteen 
days, thus covering about 75 miles in twenty-four 
hours, I will not speak here of the roads that lead 
from Lhasa or Tachilhunpo to Chinese Turkestan, 
because these have no commercial importance, 

One would naturally expect that Tibet would have 
more active relations with India than with any 
other country ; but history and politics have decided 
differently. The greatest part of Tibetan trade is 
carried on with China and finds an outlet at Tongkpr, 
Taaicnlu or Likiang, the towns where the tsongpona 



{Tibet 293 

are settled. At Tongkor, the Tibetans buy Mongolian 
horses, leather, saddles and harness, boots, felt hats, a 
few silks for the lamas, a few cottons which the Panaks 
are almost the only ones to use, flour, tobacco from 
Lanchow and Singan, paper, iron pots and different 
articles of hardware, swords and fire-arms* They sell 
wool, furs, musk, joss-sticks, rhubarb and, moreover, 
saffron, sugar-candy, dates, shells and amber which 
they have bought in British India. The value of 
the turnover does not appear to exceed forty thousand 
pounds. 

Much more important is the Tasienlu market, 
although the roads that lead there arc no shorter and, 
indeed, if we look upon lh$ real commercial centres, 
namely Lanchow and Chingtu, as the termini, we find 
that the former is less far than the latter from Lhasa 
(1,310 miles and 1,210 miles as against 1,360 and 
1,250). But the districts passed on the road to Tasienlu 
arc more thickly populated ; while Kansu is poor, 
Sechuen is one of the richest and most populous prov- 
inces in China and produces almost everything that 
China produces. Tibet depends politically upon Sechuen, 
and Tasienlu has the monopoly of the tea-trade with 
Tibet just as Sitting has the monopoly of the same trade 
with Mongolia and Turkestan. Now tea is the article 
that is sold in much the largest quantities to Tibet and 
at much the highest profit, According to the official 
accounts of the likin^ Tasienlu sells every year to its 
Tibetan customers over thirteen million pounds of tea, 
fetching, according to the quality, from 4d* to 6d. per 
pound at Tasienlu and from nd* to is. yd. at Lhasa ; a 
respectable figure to which must be added all the tea 
that is smuggled, principally by way of Songpan, This 
trade is a source of great profit to the Chinese houses 
at Singan, which have obtained from their fellow-country- 
man, the Viceroy of Sechuen, the exclusive privilege of 



294 ttibet 

selling tea on the Tibetan market. The absence of 
competition enables them to charge a very high price 
for very bad material. This export tea contains more 
wood than leaves in the bricks of inferior quality ; 
it is often damaged and the best is not calculated to 
flutter our European tastes. But the Tibetans are used 
to it and like it. They have a fixed prejudice in their 
minds that any other tea is adulterated and dangerous. 
Kvcn in Ladak, subject to British authority, where they 
can obtain tea from India of a better quality and at 
a lower price, they obstinately insist upon drinking that 
awful tea from Tasienlu, declaring that the tea sold 
by the Knglish is a poison capable of giving the con- 
sumer every sort of discos*. Merchants, government 

and lamas often, for that matter, one are all alike 

interested in encouraging this popular prejudice, the 
merchants because of the material profit which they 
derive from it, the government ami the lamas in order, 
us far as possible, to prevent commercial relations with 
the Knglish. 

One might write ;i curious chapter on the influence 
of prejudice in commercial matters, We have just seen, 
in regard to the tea-trade, that prejudice can be stronger 
than personal interest. The saffron-trade affords a no 
less singular example of the same fact. China gets her 
saffron from Tibet, which itself is obliged to buy it from 
India. The road is bad and long, the carriage costly. 
In order to make up for the consequent increase in 
price, the goods arc adulterated and the Chinese buy 
under the name of saffron an ingenious and abominable 
mixture. It would evidently be to their advantage to 
have this article sent straight from India by sea ; they 
would then have it cheaper and of a better quality. But 
the Chinese arc persuaded that Tibetan saffron is the 
best of saffrons and they will not exchange their 
persuasion for the truth* 



ttibct 295 

Besides tea, Tasienlu exports to Tibet cottons in 
small quantities, cotton tents, silks to a somewhat import- 
ant value, brocades, katags (a sort of coarse silk scarves, 
which%the Tibetans give to persons whom they wish to 
honour and which perform the functions of our visiting- 
cards), expensive furs, saddles, porcelain, turquoises finer 
than those of Tibet, tire-arms, hardware, drugs, tobacco, 
Japanese matches, which are used all over Tibet, wheat- 
meal, rice, black sugar, vinegar and preserved provisions 
for the Chinese functionaries and officers. The Tibetans 
bring in exchange woollen stuffs and blankets, hides 
and furs, musk, joss-sticks, gold-dust, antelope-horns, 
rhubarb, borax and Indian goods* They buy much 
more than they sell and *njake up the difference in 
rupees, which they obtain through their trade with 
India, where they sell more than they buy. 

The Likiangfu market scerns to have been important 
before the revolt of the Moslems of Yunnan. But, in 
consequence of the war which unsettled that province 
from 1855 to r8y3, I-'ikiang was ruined and has never 
completely recovered itself. This town is the centre 
of the rather slender trade which Tibet carries on with 
Yunnan ; and musk passes through Likiang on its way 
to Tongking. It is the natural outlet for the products 
of South-eastern Tibet and of the comparatively rich 
and populous valley of the Mekong to the south ot 
Ycrkalo. There is no doubt that, being without the 
tea-trade, this market is in a condition of decided 
inferiority to Tasienlu, Still, it occupies a fairly good 
geographical position : situated at seven days north of 
faltfu, which itself is the meeting-point of the valleys 
of the Mekong and the Red River, it is nearer to 
Lhasa than any other Chinese town and, what is more, 
the Tibetan capital is, by way of Likinng, hardly any 
farther from the Tongking frontier than from Chtngtu, 
It is therefore not impossible that, if the proximity 



296 ZTfbct 

of our Indo-Chinese colonies give new life to the trade 
of Yunnan, JLikiang will profit by this and supply us 
with the means of establishing lucrative relations with 
Tibet. We would buy sheep Vwool, goatVwool, hides 
and furs, meat, cattle, Mongolian horses, gold and musk, 
all of them things which, in this part of Asia, are hardly 
to be procured except in Tibet* We would give in 
exchange glossy cloths, in plain colours, by preference 
red or blue, wrought and set precious stones, amber, 
arms, telescopes, spectacles with smoked glasses, clocks 
and watches, musical-boxes, metal plates and dishes, 
ornamental paper-weights, broad-nibbed steel pens, 
strong, unglazed writing-paper, mirrors, thread, needles, 
large scissors, knives. In th houses of the great people 
and especially in the convents arc rather curious col- 
lections of European objects from all parts. The Dalai 
Lama and the Pungchen Uinpochch have little museums 
of our arts and industries. It is quite certain that, if 
only our merchants urn! manufacturers succeed in plant- 
ing their economic influence in Yunnan, this influence 
will be able to spread over Kustern Tibet and it will 
then do so qritc naturally. But we must cherish no 
false ideas; the radius of Tongking's commercial activity 
is very limited ' and extends only to inhospitable lands 
whose scattered and poverty-stricken inhabitants arc 
unable to buy much of us and* what is worse, arc not 
disposed to be satisfied with the costly and rubbishy 
articles that ait* too often offered them. In this respect 
there is even much less to be expected from Tibet 
than from Yttnnan. Only if Tongking becomes an 
industrial country, which it is quite capable of becom* 
ing, can it Wjl^f^j a considerable centre of 
attraction- In' iBPBBPI\jMan and Tibet, which ate 
now insignificant and not v^-Jq^prfuL customers, will 
he useful to the development of the colony through the 
metals and wool with which they will supply it. 



At present, Tibet buys in British India almost all 
the European goods that it requires. But this trade 
is not encouraged by the Tibetan and Chinese authori- 
ties anji suffers greatly from the prohibition against 
the import of Indian tea, which might compete 
triumphantly with the Tasienlu tea. I have said that, 
the Sikkim road being kept strictly closed, there are no 
direct dealings between Tibet and India, except through 
Assam, :m exception of no importance. India trades 
nvith Tibet mainly through Nepal; next to that, through 
Laduk ; lastly, to an almost inconsiderable extent, 
through Bhotan, Tibet sends to India across its 
southern frontier woollen blankets and stuffs, raw wool, 
hides and furs, gold, silver, -Aorax and salt, musk, karui 
(%ira) y or cumin, and medicinal plants ; and it receives 
inferior cloth-stuffs, a few silks and flowered cottons, 
brocades, indigo, spices, sugar-candy, coral, pearls, 
amber, shells, arms, knives, scissors and needles, copper 
kitchen-utensils, a few metal plates and dishes and 
different European knicknacks. The greater part of 
the rice consumed by the Tibetans comes from Nepal, 
Sikkim and Bhotan ; Bhotan also supplies them with 
much -appreciated tobacco and Nepal with the cloth 
known as buras and with jewellery* 

To Leh, Lhasa sends principally tea, woollens and 
rdigious objects. The inhabitants of I-adak use no 
other tea than the brick-tea from Tasienlu, which 
costs them 35. per lb,, more than double the price at 
Lhasa, while the Indian dealers offer them good tea at 
one rupee the pound. I -eh also receives from Western 
and Central Tibet and sends on to India gold from the 
mines of the province of Chang, turquoises from Lhasa 
or China, salt, borax and sulphur from the northern 
uplands (Changtang), shecpVwooI and goat's-wool from 
the provinces of Chang and Ngaris (to the value of about 
250,000 rupees), musk, rhubarb and various medicinal 



293 Uibct 

plants. It imports from Kashmir, to send on to Western 
and Central Tibet, shawls, brocades, English cloth, 
indigo, saffron and spices of every kind, sugar-candy, 
a little barley and rice, copper dishes, cutlery, jewellery, 
coral, artificial pearls, &c. The total value of the trade 
between India and Tibet is very small. The inevitable 
insufficiency of the English statistics does not enable me 
to estimate it with exactness, but I do not think that 
it amounts to two million rupees. Between 1891 and 
1893, the fluctuating trade with Ladak averaged 53,5ocf 
rupees and 169,000 rupees with Tibet through the 
intermediary of Ladak. During the same period, India 
did business to the extent of 38,500 rupees a year 
with Tibet through Sikkimj of 2,815,000 with Nepal, 
of 49,000 with Bhotan, The trade between India and 
Tibet, therefore, amounts to 261,000 rupees, plus the 
undecided amount, very much greater, however, than 
this figure, of the business done through the intermediary 
of Nepal and Bhotun. 

The increase of this traffic depends upon the throw- 
ing open to commerce of the road between Darjecling 
and Lhasa by thu Chumbi Valley. The attempts made 
by the Anglo-Indian government to secure this opening 
ended, in 1893, * n a commercial treaty of which I shall 
speak later, because at present it offers only a purely 
political interest. But, even if trade were entirely free 
on this side, neither India nor, still less, England could 
expect to find in Tibet a very important market for 
disposing of their produce ; only, from the clay when 
the Himalayan region is given up to British activity 
and is dependent, at least from the economic point of 
view, upon the Indian Empire, it will supply that empire 
abundantly and cheaply with the things in which at 
present it is most lacking : salt, hides and, above allf 
metals and wool, which, in India, is of very^ inferior 
quality. India will then definitely be what it is already 



ICibet 299 

on the way to becoming, one of the greatest manu- 
facturing Powers in the world. 

Lch is at present as important a commercial position 
as any Commercial position can be in the midst of poor 
or indifferently rich districts. It is not a centre of 
production and consumption, for Ladak is one of the 
most barren and thankless countries of Tibet and its 
population does not exceed 178,000 souls ; but it is still 
the necessary point of transit between India, Baltistan, 
iJiulakshan, Turkestan and Tibet. The roads which 
run to it from Lhasa are prolonged to Srinagar and 
Rawal Pindi, to Yarkand and Khotan by the Karakoram 
Puss, to Badakshan and Bactriana by Iskardo and Gilgit. 
This last route, nowadays $f no great importance to 
Tibet's foreign relations, was famous in the middle ages 
and was the great connecting-road between Balkh and 
Lhasa. From Lch to Iskardo is ten days 1 march (185 
miles) along the Indus ; from Iskardo to the Baroghil 
Pass, thirteen days (250 miles) down the Indus, up the 
rivers Gilgit and Yasam and across the Darkot Pass. 
Beyond the Baroghil Pass, the road joins, at Sarhad, on 
the banks of the Ak Su, the routes from Kashgar, goes 
down the Ak Su as far as Ishkashim, crosses the Sardab 
Pass and, through Zebak, runs down to Feyzabad, which 
is twelve days from the Baroghil Pass and nine from 
Balkh* This town, therefore, is twenty-one days, or 440 
miles, from the Baroghil Pass ; forty-four days, or 475 
miles, from Lch; and 2,200 miles from Lhasa* This is 
the road which the Tibetans used in the seventh and 
eighth centuries when they went to occupy Wakhan 
and to spread themselves as far as the extreme western 
limit of the Arabian Empire. Since then, the Tibetan 
race and language have receded as far as Baltistan and the 
relations between Tibet and the region of the Upper 
Qxus have became almost insignificant. The yak-oxen 
of Tibet carry to Wakhan a little hashish bought in 



300 zribet 

Chinese Turkestan and, in the Iranian dialect of the 
Wakhan, the hashish and the yak-ox have kept their 
Tibetan names, bang and dxo. Tibet receives a small 
quantity of rubies and lupis-lazuli from Bajlakshan 
and a few dried fruits, especially apricots, from Baltistan. 

The very small trade done between Tibet and 
Chinese Turkestan uses almost exclusively the Kara- 
koram Road. Leh imports from Yarkancl, either for 
local consumption or for export to Tibet I am not 
speaking here of what is destined for India a little 
tobacco, hashish, of which the Western Tibetans have, 
unfortunately for themselves, acquired the habit, dried 
fruits, Kirghiz horses and Ili horses, which hitter are 
known in Tibet as Yarkani horses and are sought after 
for their relatively larger size, felts and rugs, especially 
Khotan saddle-rugs, a few sable and otter-skins and a 
little Russian leather. I am not aware that Tibet sends" 
anything to Chinese Turkestan in return, except a few 
turquoises and some musk, which has become famous in 
the writings of the Moslem authors under the name 
of Khotan musk. The Karashar Mongols, who go to 
Lhasa by the Ambalashkan Pass or the Angirtakshia Pass, 
take a few of their native horses to the Tibetan capital 
and bring back some religious objects and a few woollens j 
but this is unimportant. 

Among the European goods sold iu Tibet, German 
or Austrian goods occupy the first place after and a very 
long way behind those of English origin* Cutlery, drugs, 
fancy goods, needles and thread are the articles that most 
often bear the mark "Made in Germany'* or "Made 
in Austria/' Imitation jewellery commands no sale at 
present, for the Tibetans are not stupid savages and buy, 
in respect of jewels, only such objects as can be sold, 
when necessary, at not too great a loss. A very small 
quantity of Russian goods finds its way into Tibet 
through Yarkand or Lanchow, I, for my part, saW no 



<* 

accepted by the Tibetans on the shores of the Koko Nor, 
The Chinese ingots occur less frequently, because they 
are not so convenient to carry ; but the ounce of silver 
(SMUX) ^ considered from one end of the eountrf where 
the Tibetan tongue is spoken to the other as the real 
monetary biisis. The silver ounce does not vary, 
whereas the rupee and the tangka arc subject to slight 
fluctuations* The former was quoted, "in 1894, at 
3125 ounce, the latter at -125. The value of the 
currency has not been affected by the fall in the pric^ 
of silver and the price of commodities has remained 
stationary. Only gold has gone up in price, but not so 
much us in Turkestan ; it still costs only eighteen times 
its weight in silver at f Jutp and fifteen times at Jyer- 
kundo or Batang* 



CHAPTER IX 

RELIGION : SURVIVAL OF OLD FORMS OF WORSHIP 
THK 1'ONBOS 

Dogmatics of Buddhism in general and of Tibetan Buddhism in par- 
ticularHow the original principles of Buddhism have become 
degraded and distorted Cult of the dead, of ancctor and of the 
domestic hearth Remains of the old worship of natural phenomena; 
gods and demonsThe Ponbo sect, which has remained faithful to the 
primitive religion True character and role of Buddhism in Tibet. 

WITH the exception of the 'people of Baltistan, who 
are Shiitc Moslems, and about half % million Ponbos 
^distributed over every part of the country, all the 
Tibetans are Buddhists. But, though 1 have only to 
say that the inhabitants of Chinese Turkestan arc 
Moslems for the reader to know what 1 mean, explana- 
tions are necessary to point out precisely what must 
be understood by my statement that the Tibetans are 
Buddhists* The religion of the Tibetans is very 
different from the doctrine which the Enlightened One 
preached in India in the fifth century B,C. This doctrine 
conceived the world to be a mere collection of attributes 
which are not attached to any real substance ; the 
universe is composed only of appearances, is an immense 
illusion ; nothing exists in itself, for everything ceases 
to exist at the very moment at which it is, everything 
lapses in a perpetual evolution. Happiness is, there- 
fore, not possible, since it would be destroyed at the 
very instant when it was attained ; life, an aggregate 
of indefinitely changing modalities, is necessarily im- 
perfect, devoted to evil, suffering and death, Death, 
in its turn, is only a speck in the universal evolution, 

303 



30* {Tibet 

a passing from one form of life to a new form ; for 
so great is the power of illusion that the elements that 
constitute the appearance dissolved by death retain in the 
depths of the unconsciousness the desire to ettfer into 
the composition of a new appearance and, like* a blind 
man who does not see the vanity of things, they wander 
through the empty night, allowing themselves to be led 
by karma, the effect of all their former actions, and 
to be flung into the mould, whether superior or inferior, 
which the latter assigns to them; : the form having beejp 

* The Hucidhist conception of the ntctumpyehosu# i very different 
from the vulgar conception. It l& not the continuation of the personality 
of eaoh individual after death, the passing of the soul into another body. 
The first ttudtlhists and the profound Hindu philosophers upon whom 
they huned their teaching, the pUiluHOphern who invented, five or HIX 
centuries toforc Christ, almost aff the utanii which the German philosophy 
of our own ;>Rc thought that it luul diiicovcrcd, were fur from entertain- 
ing any such childish notion** To them the soul m only :\ soric-H of 
psychic attribute'!* und net*;, in the ame way an the hirdy in only f 
Hcrit'H of physical fiicts. When the whole of the fctctK that coimtitutc 
the corporeal appearance in diNtiolvtMl by death, it docn not disappear 
any more than tloen the whole of the psychic factH that constitute the 
moral personality, for nothing is lost, nothing in created. The uctH mib- 
Hit mid continue to influence the entire life of the world by entering 
into new combinations. If an individual have led a bud life* the bud vffect 
of hia uetti will make itwelf felt after hU (tenth by entering into tho form- 
ation of new moral beings, who will have the warne qualitten of covet- 
ouHneMB, of vain attachment to the thingn of the world ; and the evil of 
the universe \vtlj be increased by it. On the other hand, he who hau 
led A good life, who has Htiflcd desire within himnelf and supprcKited 
activity, will* by thut very fact, have uuppreHticd the CUCB of future 
evils, will not have contributed tr> the motion of the wheel of life that 
engender** wretchedneH* *, nd, if all living beings follow bin example, 
that fatal wheel will at hint come to K HtandxtiU, rest will nuccecd 
action nd perfection Hnd the cemtutton of existence, thone two indis- 
soluble term, will reign iilone. The rewnrd or the penalty of u gotnt 
or u bud life m, therefore, not individual happinew* or tmhapplnew* in 
the world to come, but general happiness or unhuppincs*. 

Thii theory wan too lofty for the universal #oim to foUow: each 
wiwhcd to keep the benefit of bin clfort for lumelf, instead of plucing it 
In the public money-box ; and the Buddhmts, with the exception of the 
mtmt distinguished tcachem, ended by accepting childish and popular 
opinion0 on the soul and the life to come. 



305 

recovered, consciousness returns and, after i^ 
sensation, the desire for life, the love of the go 
things of the world, the transmission of existence 
to an heir, suffering and death, The wheel thus turns 
withouf end ; and we cannot escape from this circle of 
wretchedness save by the knowledge of the truth that 
shows the falseness of things and the irreparable evil of 
existence and by the abolition of passion and desire, 
which are the causes of life. By realising absolute 
apathy, we avoid the law of becoming, we enter into the 
perfect, immutable state, from which consciousness, 
feeling, joy and suffering have disappeared, This pessi- 
mistic philosophy excludes all theodieean speculation* 
God is superfluous, since everything in the world is 
rigorously determined. He Trannot exist as a perfect, 
distinct Being and master of the universe ; for either 
fccxistcnce cannot be conceived without action ami move- 
ment, whereas action and movement derogate from 
absolute perfection, or else existence is conceived 
abstractly, stripped of all its modalities, in which case 
the perfect, immutable Being, without thought or will, 
without anger or love, incapable of acting or of thinking 
of acting, without limits and, consequently, indistinct, 
without attributes in short (for attributes are relative 
and therefore incompatible with perfection), becomes lost 
in Nirvana, that is to say in the cessation of existence, 
which differs in nothing from the absolute, 

This severe doctrine, reserved to the initiated few, 
was soon corrupted and was invaded by the mythologies 
of Brahmanism and Shivaism, by {wpular superstitions 
and by the metaphysics of the theologians, The deteriora- 
tion was especially perceptible in the countries of the 
north, which adopted the teaching of the school known as 
that of the Great Vehicle, or Mahstyamu, because, making 
the greatest allowance for human weakness, it boasted 
that it carried more men to the shores of salvation. 



306 mbet 

The Enlightened One, the Buddha, who, they say, 
under the name and form of a small prince of the 
north-west of India, was the first to preach the good 
rule, became a god and was considered as the universal 
soul in place and stead of Brahma. He was tlie first 
principle, the sole being, eternal, incorruptible, mani- 
festing himself in three persons without affecting the - 
unity of his essence : the first is the transcendental 
Buddha, the personification of Nirvana and of the 
Supreme Law ; the second proceeds from the first, o 
which it is the reflection and the representation in the 
celestial world, where conscious and active life develops 
itself with all the splendour and all the perfection of 
which it is capable, an intermediary world between that 
of the absolute and that <?f humanity ; lastly, the third, 
which proceeds from the two others, is the Buddha 
made man. 

Later, but still in very remote ages, each of these 
three persons was multiplied by five ; each of the five 
metaphysical Buddhas (Dhyani Buddhas) and of the five 
celestial Buddhas (Bodhisattvas) was subdivided, in 
accordance with the Shivaistic conceptions, into two 
principles, male and female; and, above this ramification, 
was recognised a supreme and primordial Being (Adi- 
Buddha or Togmai Sangyeh), of whom all the others arc 
only emanations in the first, second or third degree. It 
was a desperate effort to pass through a degradation of 
subtle shades from illusion to truth, from movement 
to repose, to bridge over the space between miserable, 
lying, transient man and the true eternal, infinite, 
immutable, impassive being, the Nirvana-God, by 
ascribing to that Motionless One an eternal evolution, 
begetting throughout eternity a conscious and active, 
but wholly spiritual manifestation, which, in its turn, 
begets an active and carnal hypostasis. Buddhism thus 
became a form of monotheism deeply impregnated with 



ttfbet so? 

pantheism and Nirvana was transformed into absorption 
into the bosom of the divinity or of the universal soul, 
of which each individual soul is a detached atom. 

This view seems to have prevailed among the 
Tibetan people, who were unable to understand the 
theory of primitive Buddhism. They generally speak 
of Sangyeh without an epithet, as of a sole God, not- 
withstanding his different names which denote his 
numerous manifestations. They semi up prayers to 

-him and believe him capable of interfering in the 
affairs of this world and even of modifying the effect 
of karma ; or, rather, each pious invocation goes to 
increase the assets of him who utters it and entitles him 
to a better life in the neat world* Many ascribe to 
Sangyeh a, creative power similar to that wfiich the old 
Hindu mythology attributed to Brahma, By an effect 

of his will and the power of his meditation, he is said 
to have formed out of pre-exlsfcnt chaotic matter the 
Rirab Gyalpo, or King of the Mountains, which, 
stretching its prodigious mass of ^old, rubies, sapphire* 
and crystal from the depths of the abyss to the 
summit of the skies, was to be the axis of the universe ; 
then he brought forth from the bonom of the primitive 
waters a first world which was successively destroyed and 
reconstructed, for an incalculable number of times, under 
different forms, Sangyeh, according to the same people, 
is interested in the universe and in men in particular: he 
is a god-providence. Originally, men were superior 
beings, who looked at Sangyeh face to face, whose bodies 
were illumined by an inner light, performing the office 
of the absent sun ; they enjoyed extraordinary length of 
days, were exempt from the ills ami maladies that distress 
modern mankind and had no need to work to live* 
But, in time, they became perverted ; their bad actions 
weighed down their good deeds ; and, lofting their 
privileges, they descended (probably by successive 



308 tttbet 

regenerations) to the level of the men of to-day and 
were plunged into darkness in consequence of the loss of 
the divine light that formerly shone from their bodies. 
Then, Sangyeh created nine suns, whose excessive heat 
liquefied all that existed, and the world became no more 
than a mass in a state of fusion, in which the King of the 
Mountains alone subsisted. Next, by the force of his 
meditation, he provoked the formation of a sort of proto- 
plasm, which, solidifying, increasing and subdividing, 
constituted a new world, with its four real or fabulous 
continents, its stars, its gods, men and beasts. Men, 
trusting the subtilty of their intellect, will become per- 
verted again until, despising the supreme and eternal law 
which Sakya Muni preached, they will, in the pride of 
their apparent power, come to make war upon the last 
of the faithful and upon the terrestrial incarnation of 
Buddha, the Dalai Lama, who, under the name of 
Gyaser (?) Gyalpo, will have to mount his white charger 
and draw his sword in defence of the truth. Then, the 
end of time will be at hand ; and, when the universe 
has been destroyed by the will of Sangyeh, he will 
fashion another in a later period, Note that the world 
in this conception does not cease to be an appearance 
without reality : it is the product of the power of 
illusion of Sangyeh and as it were a dream of the 
Divinity, the only really existing thing. This essentially 
Shivaistic doctrine does not, perhaps, agree with the 
teaching of the majority of the Tibetan doctors, except 
the conclusion, which presents anew the legend of 
Krishna, recalls that of the Antichrist and is an article 
of faith ; but, as no great importance attaches to these 
questions, it is possible for even Gelugpa lamas to hold 
these ideas without being treated as heretics. 

Apart from Sangyeh and his celestial and terrestrial 
emanations, who make only one with him, Tibetan 
Buddhism recognises a host of secondary divimtie$ 



300 

borrowed from Hindu mythology and from the old local 
religion. These divinities, good and bail alike, receive 
a regular worship and enjoy special attributes and inde- 
pendent power. The Tibetans are very much afraid of 
their whims and their anger and are more anxious not 
to displease them and to appease them or to force their 
favour by ceremonies, forms and sacrifices than to follow 
the mystic road that leads to the final deliverance* 
Therefore, Buddhism is atheistic, monotheistic, pantheistic, 
polytheistic, according to the view which one takes of it, 
The disciples of Gautama are not at all embarrassed 
by what we are inclined to look upon us monstrous 
contradictions. Anyone who is more or U'ss accustomed 
to metaphysical speculation knows how easy it is to 
pass from one to another of those categories by almost 
imperceptible shades and how frail are the barriers 
that separate them, barriers set up by the prejudice or 
the limited logic of the philosophers or theologians. At 
bottom, Tibetan Buddhism bears a strong resemblance 
to Hinduism in its metaphysics, save on a few important 
points, m its doctrine of karma, of the transmigration 
of souls, of the renunciation of the good things of the 
world, of the absorption into the universal soul ; in itn 
mythology, worship and ceremonies* Buddhism, origin- 
ally devoid of worship, has taken to itself almost the 
whole of Hindu worship, with its array of uiols, 
formulas and complicated rites* It has also borrowed 
some details from the Christian liturgy, through the 
intermediary of the Nestorians established, in the middle 
ages, in China and Mongolia ; but it appears that thin 
influence has been exaggerated, many of the things which 
were believed to be taken from Christianity having mnce 
been found to exist in the religions of India, 

Moral perfection and indifference to the outward 
illusion, necessary to obtain salvation, have been relegated 
to the background and the coarse, popular conception 



310 mbct 

of religion has gained the day. The divinity has ceased 
to be inactive, insensible to the prayers of men and to 
their efforts to please it ; it has become a king whose 
wrath is to be feared, but whose favour can be skilfully 
captured ; it has again fallen under the domination of 
rites and formulas. Prayer is no longer a simple 
homage, but solicitation and even, in certain conditions, 
a means of effective compulsion. Works have assumed 
an excessive importance and by works we must under- 
stand not morally good works, but acts of material' 
devotion, intended to circumvent the divinity, to force 
his attention, to tire his resistance, to oblige him, by 
special favour, to bend the impassive law to the will of 
his courtiers, Buddha, whQ'laid down the principle of 
the renunciation of the vanities of the world, Buddha, 
who set up for an object the annihilation of the 
personality, is asked to grant wealth, health, the satis- 
faction of covetousness and pride, is constrained by a 
ceremony more solemn than any of the others to distil 
the elixir of long life. His devotees pray for the dead as 
though the dead could escape the fatal consequences of 
their acts. If Buddha refuses to be moved, they apply 
to one of the thousand gods that surround him, each 
of whom has his particular role, his special power, his 
own horrible or amiable shape, his personal harsh or 
benevolent character, a host of courtly chamberlains, 
graceful maids-of-honour, generals, fierce defenders of 
the faith, dread duennas, not to speak of the diabolical 
animals that go about in the purlieus seeking whom they 
may devour. The supernatural world is a court where 
they distribute good and bad seats for the life to 
come, spiritual graces and temporal goods, calamities and 
miseries : to obtain the former and to be dispensed from 
the others, the Tibetans exhaust themselves in measures, 
in solicitations, intrigues, gifts. They build thousands of 
temples ; make tens of thousands of statues ; prostrate 



themselves ; sing hymns ; mutter endless prayers ; grind 
out an even greater number by water-power or by hand j 
say their rosaries ; celebrate solemn services ; make 
offerings and give banquets to all the gods ami all the 
devils ; wear amulets and relics ; write talismans ; wave 
streamers covered with prayers or lucky emblems, which 
the breath of the wind sends flying through space ; pile 
up numberless heaps of stones with pious inscriptions ; 
turn around all the objects which they regard as sacred: 
"mountains, lakes, temples, heaps of stones ; go in pro- 
cessions and on pilgrimages ; swallow indulgences in the 
shape of pills made by the lamus out of relics ; drink 
down with compunction the divine nectar (dudtfti) com- 
posed of the ten impurities 1 ^ such as human flesh ami 
worse ; practise exorcism, witchcraft and magic, even to 
obtain spiritual blessings ; perform pious mysteries ami 
dance strange and fren/.ied sarabands to drive out or 
shatter the devil : and thus is Tibet made to spin dis- 
tractedly, without rest or truce, in religion's mad round. 
I will linger no further on the dogma or ritual of 
Tibetan Buddhism. Mr, Wadtlell has treated this 
subject lately with much greater accuracy am! detail than 
I could do from my unaided memory. 1 will content 
myself with giving a few notes on a mutter that particu- 
larly attracted my attention in the course of our journey, 
namely the remains that still survive of the old local 
religion. What I have already said show* that the spirit 
which animated this religion of former rimes is deep- 
rooted in the Tibetan soul, has grafted itself on the 
Buddhic stem and made it bear fruit* which it was* not 
intended to produce. Much more, a certain number of 
forms, rites, divinities of the old religion have remained, 
if not untouched, at least recognisable* Such in the cult 
of ancestors, although Buddhism was of all religions* the 
least disposed to leave a place for that, for it doe* not 



Zttbet 313 

in the dead man's clothes and place on the top a piece of 
paper which is supposed to be his portrait ; and, every 
day, they offer him food to eat. We know from Tibetan 
books ^that this was a general custom in the seventh 
century ; nowadays, the ceremony is limited to forty- 
nine days, by the end of which period the spirit of the 
dead man has necessarily found a place in a new body, 
But they continue to show him worship. The ashes of 
the burnt portrait are mixed with earth and made into 
Hlittle cones (chacha), which they carefully preserve on the 
domestic altar. They also place a few in rough monu- 
ments raised in the country. Throughout Tibet one 
comes across these chachas, which are sometime** said 
to be representations of Bu4ilha ; this is only a manner 
of describing their sacred ^character. The relics of 
important persons, of chief lamus, are placed in more 
imposing monuments called clwrcfwn (mtcfmtlrtm)^ that is 
to say receptacles of offerings, altars. Nowadays, these 
very numerous chorchens are oftenest only empty tombs 
or cenotaphs ; but it was not the same in former days, 
as may be concluded from their old name of thwgrun 
(gdungrten)) receptacles of bones. The Chinese authors 
tell us that, in the seventh century, tumuli were raised 
over the tombs of the dead kings and even great build- 
ings to which people came to do homage and to present 
offerings to the spirit of the prince- Here we have the 
prototype of the Ishmiscd mmars of Turkestan, Again, 
the shades Jived in the tomb a life similar to that which 
they had led on earth, for with the king were buried hi 

Rges, his horses, his clothes, his jewels and his arms* 
owadays, the Tibetans celebrate a commemorative 
ceremony one year after the death of their kinsman and, 
every year, in summer, they offer libations to the shades 
of their ciead ancestors. Before every tent one sees a 
cord, stretched horizontally, to which are fastened 
streamers, generally nine in number, They reproduce 



the somos of the Altai Turkomans, which represent the 
souls of nine ancestors, whose duty it is to protect their 
descendants ; but, in modern Tibet, these protective 
streamers are covered with Buddhist inscriptions with 
wishes for happiness. 

The cult shown to ancestors is not only a token of 
pious memory, is not only a provision served out to them 
to save them from starving in the next world, but is also 
a homage shown to divine beings, to superior powers, in 
exchange for their protection. The ancestors receiver 
the title of gods (//;<?). It is from their ancestors that 
the Tibetan sorcerers, like the kams of the northern 
Turkomans, derive their power and they are necessarily 
hereditary. The grand official sorcerer of Tibet, who 
resides at Nechung, always invokes a special demon 
called the king (gyalpo}, from whom he himself is 
descended and who came from Mongolia. The lama 
summoned to a sick man to exorcise the demon that 
possesses him has recourse to his own tutelary genius, 
who is very probably, in that case, the Buddbic form 
of the ancestral genii, the natural protectors of their 
descendant. A certain number of gods or devils, 
honoured by the Tibetans, are considered to be the 
shades of heroes or heroines whose cult has spread from 
their own family to a wider circle. Thus the spamos, 
or fairy huntresses, are the ghosts of ancient queens* It 
is contended that the most terrible of all the devils, 
the duds y are the spirits of the old persecutors of 
Buddhism. But the fact that proves beyond doubt 
that they are divinities of an earlier date than the 
religion of Sakya Muni is that offerings of swine are 
made to them, although sacrifices of live animals are 
forbidden by that religion. 

The cult of ancestors is complemented by the 
worship of the household godvS, which stands toward* 
the former in a correlation which my insufficient 



315 

information does not enable me to state with precision. 
Every house has its divinity (nanglha), which ordinarily 
occupies the hearth, although, at certain times, it is 
installed^ in other parts of the home* This god does not 
love strangers, who, for this reason, are admitted into 
his presence only with certain precautions. Kvery 
morning, the members of the household offer him water, 
wine, milk ; they light a lamp before him and take care 
to revive the fire in the hearth with ;i brunch of juniper, 
tfhich is a sacred shrub to the Tibetans, as it is to the 
Turkomans. At night, they again burn a branch of the 
same plant and carry it through and about the house in 
order to drive away evil spirits; for fire itself is regarded 
a$ a divine being and as the* natural protector ot those 
who keep it in. It might be worth finding out if this 
domestic fire was not originally confused by the 
Tibetans, as it is by the Turkomans and the Mongols, 
with the domestic divinity and the" divinities of the dead 
ancestors. Be this as it may, the community of domestic 
worship forms the link that bind 4 * together the members 
of one family and is able to take the place of real 
relationship. All the Tibetans are organised into lirtltf 
mutual burial-societies, composed of neighbours and 
friends who are not related by blood, but who all huve 
the same god and who, consequently, are assimilated to 
descendants of the same ancestor (ruspa digchigj : they 
are called faspon^ or cousins, and it is their duty to 
provide one another with burials ; and none but a 
paspon can show the last honours to a deceased person, 
for the shades reject the homage of any vtwngcr to their 
family and cult. Consequently, the soul of one who 
dies far from his paspons and who is interred without 
their aid will be for ever miserable and will rojun the 
earth to the great terror of the living. To allay the 
irritation of the shades that have not received regular 
burial, the lamas go from time to time and fling pellets 



316 {Tibet 

of tsamba into the rivers and wells, inviting all wander- 
ing spirits to come and share the feast. In the same way, 
two Tibetans who propose to conclude a compact of 
friendship similar to the andalaku of the Mongols 
solemnly sacrifice an animal and drink its blood, the 
essential vital fluid, in order to bring themselves in 
intimate communion with the divinity to whom the' 
victim has been offered and who has become infused by 
consecration in the animal's veins : in this manner, the 
contracting parties have within them the blood of the 
same god, that is to say of the same ancestor, and are 
brothers. 

Side by side with the remains of the domestic religion, 
we find a large number of remains of a religion of nature 
absolutely similar to that cr the ancient Turkomans and 
the ancient Mongols and to that which is still in vigour, 
in spite of some modifications, among the Chinese. Thef 
Tibetans behold a divinity in every natural phenomenon, 
in every external object that attracts attention by its 
peculiarity or its she. Many lakes and mountains have 
a divine character and are the object of worship : such are 
the Nam Cho, the Iki Namur, the Koko Nor, the 
Samden Kansa Mountains, Mount Tiseh near the 
sacred Lake Mansarovar, the Amnyeh Machen, the 
sacred mountain of the Goloks, whose name means 
the August Ancestor Ma and seems to point to a con- 
nection with ancestor-worship, I could prolong this 
list indefinitely. There is a god who makes liquids 
to ferment ; another who causes illness ; a third who 
causes death : whenever a decease takes place, a special 
ceremony is performed to drive him away. There is a 
goddess who looks particularly after little children 
(tumlhamo) ; a god who presides over the chase. Each 
canton, even each inhabited valley has its special genius 
(juiag). On the rocks and in the caves live mischievous 
gnomes (twn); the depths of the earth are occupied 



Uibet 317 

by legions of jealous and spiteful demons (sadag), of 
gloomy and hideous aspect, who fly into a rage when 
men dig the earth in search of hidden treasures or for 
other reasons and who kill them or spread misery and 
disease Hn the neighbourhood ; the sources and rivers 
are guarded by so many man-snakes f/#j, who remind 
-one of the naiads and have been assimilated by the 
Buddhists to the nagn of the Vedic mythology. Above 
these particular divinities reigns the celestial dragon 
(4hug)) the personification of the clouds and, perhaps, 
more generally, of the gloomy sky, who makes the 
storm burst forth, sends down the gentle rain, causes 
floods, the plague and contagions. He is the exact same 
as the dragons of the Mongols and Chinese, His 
earthly enemy is the red tig$r (nagmar). The latter 
is often represented in five-fold : one, yellow, in the 
oniddlc, personifies the earth ; and, in the four corners, 
the blue one is wood, the red metal, the white 
fire and the black water* These are the five sacred 
elements, which are revered also by the Turkomans, 
the Mongols, the Chinese and the Annamites, The 
divine tiger has been turned by the Buddhists into 
a protecting genius of the true raith. As for the five 
elements, although the Tibetans still know them ami 
speak of them as sacred things, their worship has lost 
its Importance and tts precision. Traces of them survive 
in the five flags carried by the official sorcerers when 
accomplishing their rites, in the five colours with which 
the Saskyapa lamas paint their convents and, especially, 
in the successive groups of five hypostOHca in which 
Buddha is manifested. With the worship of the five 
elements are also connected the two crossed sticks, ji 
symbol of the sacred fire, and the feast of water, which in 
celebrated in September: at that time, water is considered 
to be gifted with supernatural properties and everybody 
bathes in the rivers, thinking thus to obtain n long life. 



318 TCibet 

Another ancient god, having also the form of an animal, 
is the Wind-horse (lungsta)^ who is depicted on in- 
numerable streamers waving in mid-air. This Tibetan 
Pegasus, whom the Buddhists have laden with the 
three precious jewels of the good law, appeafs to be 
a personification of the wind galloping through space 
and breathing good and bad luck by turns. When a 
hurricane gets up, the lamas send a host of sheets of 
paper, with the effigy of the Wind-horse, flying in the 
air, so that the god, accepting the homage, may he 
appeased and cease to endanger the lives of travellers.* 

The celestial bodies play a smaller part in the 
religious preoccupations of the natives, although the 
latter believe in their influence over destiny ; but their 
astrology, which is wide$ practised, is of Chinese or 
Hindu origin. As in China, a sacred respect is shown 
to the hare, which the hunters never touch ; this animal 
is probably connected with some lunar cult* In the 
month of December 893, we assisted at the feast of 
lanterns, or rather of lamps, which is known in China 
as in Tibet. The poor herdsmen on the shores of the 
Nam Cho lit, at night, in their tents, all the butter- 
lamps which they had at their disposal ; this ceremony, 
in its humble simplicity, showed us better than any 
sumptuous festival in a big town could have done the 
depth of superstition of which it was a manifestation. 
Its object is to ask for the return of the sun and to 
pray for the triumph of the light threatened by the 
winter darkness. The lamas have made it into the 
feast of Tsongkapa ; but the example of China proves 
that its origin is much older. 

At a later period, an attempt was made to put a little 
order into this chaos of primitive deities by arranging 
them all under two categories, each with its supreme 
head. The terrestrial gods were subjected to old 

* Hue, describing this ceremony, distorts its renl meaning. , 



Mother Earth, dressed in yellow, mounted on a ram 
with great horns ; an ugly, gloomy and fierce goddess, 
the guardian of the gates of the infernal abyss, which, 
if they % opened, would spread terror and death among 
the rac of mankind. We have seen that she was 
\vorshipped by the inhabitants of Chinese Turkestan 
before the introduction of Buddhism, The gods of 
the sky and air received for their master Namlhakarpo, 
an old white-haired man, dressed in white and riding 
on a dog. He, like Zeus, represents the clear sky that 
distributes light* These two higher divinities of the 
sky and earth have their equivalents in the Turkic, 
Mongolian and Chinese mythologies ; they were the 
chief objects of Tibetan worship in the seventh century 
and their cult most probablt- dates back to that pre- 
historic period in which the four nations were neigh- 
^bours in the mountains north of Mongolia and formed 
only one ethnical group. 

The Tibetans thus live in the midst of a formidable 
swarm of gods and demons * whose rustling they hear, 
whose breath they feel, of whose vague forms they 
catch glimpses in the darkness, They have a heavy 
task to conciliate, to avoid offending or to appease all 
those fantastic beings, jealous, susceptible, powerful and 
always ready, like savages, to abuse their strength. 
Hence come the innumerable practices to which the 
natives devote themselves and to which Buddhism has 
only added. Some of them, of course, are of earlier date 
than the introduction of the religion of Sakya, Muni* 
For instance, the nomad, before drinking, dips the fore- 
finger of his right hand into his bowl and sprinkles a 

Oml in Mitt, dumrm </</* (hdruh). ThtM latter ward seem* to have ft 
very general ntf titling uniting ail the cuti^nrieu <>f demon*. We must 
lutt trannlutc iku by good #i*nhiH and deli by bad #ouiu; the lhatt, at 
bmtnm, atv no totter thuti thvf dcliH ; but, tin genii of the uir d light, 
they huvc more benefits to bo.unv, whereas the other* are fiuhtcrruncan 
And tenebrous genii, 



320 Uibet 

few drops towards the four cardinal points, while reciting 
a prayer : this is a libation in honour of the genii of the 
air and the ghosts of the dead that may be wandering in 
the neighbourhood ; in the same way, they are Coffered 
the remains of each repast. The traveller does not fail 
to pay homage to the special divinity of the canton 
through which he is passing, for fear lest it should play 
him some trick. The mountain-passes are supposed, 
because of their height, to be more particularly fre- 
quented by the gods and the Tibetan, on reaching the 
summit, mutters a deprecatory formula and throws a 
stone on the little pile heaped up by those who have 
come before him and almost always surmounted by a 
few nigged streamers. These heaps of pebbles (oto in 
Mongolian, dobum in Tib|tan), which resemble the old 
Kirghiz tombs, are sacred monuments and not mere 
land-marks to show the road,* The people often turn 
around them, which among most of these nations con- 
stitutes a pious act* These pious turns (skorba)^ are 
certainly not of Buddhic origin, for we know that the 
ancient Turkomans employed the same method to show 
their veneration for the holy places and for their dead 
in particular. It is worth noting that this ceremony 
is performed by keeping the object of worship on the 
right, that is to say by turning in the same direction as 
the course of the sun ; and this leads one to think that 
it was originally a form of sun-worship : indeed, we 
know that the sun, especially the rising sun, filled a great 
place in the primitive Turkic religion. 

There subsist a few traces of the old animal sacrifices 
banished by Buddhism, To drive away the ghosts 
returning from the other world, the Tibetans sacrifice 
animals in effigy. On the last day of the year, the lamas, 

* The obo ia the analogue of the ansab of the Arabs and the 
of the ancient Romans. 

f The tawef of the Arab*. 



ttibet 321 

dressed up as skeletons and as hideous demons, perform 
the dance of the red tiger, the most extraordinary of the 
ceremonies of Tibetan Buddhism : they cut into pieces 
and pretend to eat a puppet in human form representing 
the eneiAy of religion and of the country. This festival 
is evidently the survival of that at which the Tibetan 
chiefs, meeting on the first day of the new year, took the 
oath of fidelity under the auspices of the priests, who 
immolated a number of criminals and divided their flesh 
among those present* The Tibetan sorcerers are very 
like the sorcerers of the Mongols and Turkomans ; like 
these, they indulge in frenzied and convulsive dances 
and in horrible yells, addressed either to their own 
ancestors or to the earth and sky. The first among 
them, the grand sorcerer of Nijichung, who is one of the 
principal persons in Tibet, contends that his ancestors 
were natives of Mongolia. It is very possible that he is 
descended from the high-priest of the old Ponbo 
religion. He who is said to be his first ancestor is 
that same white god of heaven who is the first divinity 
of the Ponbos and the tradition which declares that his 
.ancestors were Turkic and Mongolian kings suggests the 
idea that the clergy of the ancient Tibetans was perhaps 
of the same stock as that of the ancient Turko-MongoK 
The almost entire similarity in the religion of these 
peoples, as opposed to the characteristic differences of 
language and customs, would thus be explained of itself, 
All the sorcerers (n#gpa) y to whatever category they 
belong, arc lamas ; they foretell the future,! point out 
which practices should be fulfilled in order to remedy 

* Hence the stceuHtttiotiB of cannibuliKm of which the Tibet an have 
been the victim*. 

f Some of their method* of divination are purely Chinese. Qflwtt 
uw Turko-Mongoliun, ftuch mt the pebbles arntnged in ft certain order, 
corresponding with the kumttlttk of the Kiunhn, and the consulting nf 
the nhouldcr-hladc of a sheep (wtffrt) put to the fire, which fa especially 
In discovering lost or Htoten ottjcctH, 

SI 



322 

present evils and ward off evils to come, conjure up and 
exorcise devils and cure the sick. There are some who 
make a specialty of causing the rain to fall or cease ; 
they correspond with the Turkic yadachi and, lifce these, 
employ a stone to which they attribute sujfernatural 
virtues, calling it the water-crystal (chuchel) : it is prob- 
ably jade. However, the orthodox lamas have recourse 
to a simple offering in honour of the divinities of the 
waters (nagas) y accompanied by an appropriate form of 
prayer. 

Not only has the old religion left a deep impression 
on the soul of the Tibetans who profess Buddhism, but 
it has also retained to this day a large number of adherents, 
who are called, as in former times, Ponbos. They are to 
ho found in every part ofjfTibet, but especially in Eastern 
Tibet and in the province of Chang, which they look 
upon as their cradle, or, at least, as the seat of they: 
most revered sanctuary. The Buddhists having brought 
their efforts to bear mainly upon Central Tibet, in other 
words upon the richest district in the country, one meets 
with but very few of the votaries of the old faith there. 
On the other hand, Eastern Tibet having never been 
subject except in part and superficially to the Lhasa 
government, the Ponbos are still strong there and their 
number amounts to not far short of half the popula- 
tion. All the Tibetans living along the high-road from 
Nagchu to Jyerkundo, between the Chachang La and the 
Damtao La, are Ponbos, as arc also many of those who 
live in Dcrgyeh and in all the country to the north-east 
of Chamdo. The Ponbos are said also to predominate 
in Poyul. Zogchcn Gompa is the most important of 
their monasteries in the north-east ; it is there that most 
of their books are printed* Hating the victorious religion, 
they have nevertheless felt its influence and, prompted 
by fear, they have tried to lessen the dogmatic differences, 
so as to be able to pass for heretical Buddhists and ttot 



323 

for infidels. Thus they ascribe the foundation of their 
sect to an incarnate divinity whom they assimilate to 
Buddha and call Chenrabyungdung (Gchenrabsgyung- 
drung). Nevertheless, they recognise none of the 
human 'hypostases of the Buddha whom the orthodox 
revere and they treat the Dalai Lama as an impostor. 
He whom they look upon as the true and only 
incarnation of Chenrab bears the title of Ma Rinpocheh. 
They say that the first head of Buddhism in Tibet, who 
pretended to be a god made man, maintained a long 
controversy with their high-priest. The latter proposed 
to his adversary, in order to settle the quarrel, that they 
should together attempt the ascent of the great ice- 
mountain, Gangrimochehj the sacred and inaccessible 
mountain said to be situated^in Chang. The proposal 
was accepted and then the Ponbo high-priest had 
recourse to powerful enchantments, which enabled him 
to rise in the air and to arrive without difficulty at the 
inviolate summit of the mountain, amid thunder and 
lightning, while his rival was struggling to climb the 
lower slopes. The orthodox accept this legend at least 
in pnrt ; but they declare that the infidel magician was 
struck by lightning while flying through the air, thus 
leaving the victory to the protagonist of the true faith, 

The Ponbo lamas are not compelled to celibacy 
ant! they wear their hair long ; some of them live in 
convents, others are distributed among the lay popula- 
tion, from whom they are distinguished neither by their 
manner of life nor by their appearance. The Ponbo 
priests are often hermits, leading isolated lives in remote 
mountains : the more solitary they are the better are 
they able to influence the powers* of heaven and earth* 
At a place called Zama, in the dark gorge of the 
Charrong Chu, we passed not far from the tent of a 
Ponbo hermit, much revered as a priest and feared as a 
magician, and the terrified Tibetans who accompanied us 



324 

hastened their steps. The institution of convents is, no 
doubt, borrowed from Buddhism. The primitive clergy 
of Tibet does not seem to have had a monastic organisa- 
tion. It was none the less very powerful, as may he 
conjectured from the important part which it played in 
the most solemn act of Tibetan politics, the taking of 
the oath ; from the vigorous struggles which it main- 
tained against Buddhism ; and from the high position 
retained in modern society by the official sorcerers, who 
are certainly the successors of some of the Ponbo higk- 
priests, if not their descendants. 

The Ponbo lamas are, before all, sorcerers and 
necromancers and exactly resemble the kams of the 
northern Turkomans, the bos of the Mongols and, lastly, 
those whom we call sharfans* When exercising their 
magic functions, they wear a tall, pointed, black* hat, 
surmounted by a peacock's feather or merely a cock's 
feather, a death's head and a pair of crossed thunderbolts ; 
they have a drum formed of two human skulls^ which is 
as essential an object to them as is the tambourine to the 
Siberian shaman. Different from the orthodox lamas, 
they sacrifice animals and especially cocks, whether 
because they attribute a sacred character to this bird or 
because it has this advantage for the worshippers, that 
it is not expensive. They throw spells in the same 
manner as our mediaeval sorcerers, by sticking pins into 
a little figure representing the person upon whom the 
spells are cast. To cure diseases, they employ the same 
method as the Mongols : they put the sick man's clothes 
on a clay figure upon which they write his name and 
throw it away in a distant and desert spot ; the spirit of 
death takes this little statue for the patient himself and, 
believing him dead, troubles about him no longer. If 
the patient be a notable chief, a man plays the part of the 

* it is probably the colour of their hate which hat* cttuaed them to 
be vulgarly called black lamas. 



Eibet 325 

statue for a small sum of money : he has to leave the 
camp or the village and go away as far as possible, 
without returning so long as the chief is alive. These 
customs are perhaps not quite unknown to the orthodox 
Tibetan's. 

The principal divinities of the Ponbos are the White 
God of heaven, the Black Goddess of the earth, the 
Red Tiger and the Dragon, They profess a profound 
veneration for an idol called Kepang, made of a mere 
Week of wood dressed in bits of stuff. I was not able 
to ascertain what it represents, but they say that it is the 
same divinity that, under the name of Pekar, inspires 
the orthodox sorcerers. The most sacred symbol ot the 
Ponbos is the gammadion cross, the swastika of the 
Hindus, but turned from right to left. This emblem 
is a remnant of fire and sun-worship : it represents the 
solar wheel and the two sticks (the antni of the Hindus) 
which, when rubbed together, produce the sacred fire. 
The presence of the name of this symbol, yungdun& in 
the name of the mythical founder of the Ponbo religion 
shows the predominant importance of fire-worship in the 
primitive religion. The Buddhist Tibetans also possess 
u similar emblem, except that the brackets are turned 
in the opposite direction ; they, however, ascribe a less 
value to it than do the Ponbos. For the rest, we can 
apply to the latter all that I have said concerning the 
survival of the old native creeds amon^ the so-called 
Buddhist Tibetans. Their religion, which is a coarse 
naturalism combined with ancestor-worship, is the same 
as that practised from time immemorial among the 
Turkomans, the Mongols and the Chinese ; and that Is 
why it so greatly resembles Taoism^ which is no other 
than the primitive religion of China, covered with a 
varnish of Hindu metaphysics* 

The religious practices of the Tibetan Ponbos do not 
differ essentially from those of their Buddhist brethren; 



326 

both recite endless litanies made up of invariable 
formulas, unwearyingly spin their praying-wheels, erect 
wants * and obos^ wave pious streamers, turn at every 
opportunity around the religious monuments, temples, 
manis and sacred lakes and mountains. But the 
Ponbos are distinguished by small details of form. 
Instead of employing as a prayer the Buddhist formula 
" Om mani fadmc hum ! " they use the formula " Om 
mate muyasaledo ! " of which I do not know the meaning, 
Instead of turning their praying-wheel inwards, from 
right to left, with the sun, they turn it outwards, from 
left to right ; and again, while the orthodox Buddhists, 
in describing the sacred circle around the objects of 
their cult, always keep them on the right, the Ponbos 
always keep them on th* left. This is the capital 
difference between the two sects, the only one which 
each takes account of; and the mills that turn to the 
right abominate the mills that turn to the left. In the 
old religions, we often find the two ways of turning 
and the two svastikas employed concurrently, those 
which go with the sun being considered divine, the 
others demoniacal and suited for magical operations. 
The Buddhists having preserved only the first, the 
Ponbos attached themselves solely to the second, from 
a spirit of contradiction and also because their religion 
bore a strongly accentuated character of black magic.wjy 
And so, in this citadel of Buddhism which is Tibet, 
the population either is very hostile to the religion of 
Sakya Muni, or else adheres to it only with its lips 
and in form, while neither men's hearts nor their minds 
have, at bottom, changed. The lamas allow the infidels 
to live around them, even as they let false opinions live 
in the minds of their faithful. The real fact is that 
Buddhism, whose expansion has sometimes been com- 
pared with that of Christianity and Islamism, ia a religion 

* The ntttni is a heap of etoney covered with pious inscription*. 



tEibet 327 

of monks and initiates that is not made for seculars or 
the vulgar. There is no genuine Buddhist save him 
who has known the vanity of the world and who has 
renounced it absolutely. Without that there is no 
salvaticfh. The monks, who have taken vows of poverty 
and chastity, who are plunged in meditation and who 
are not concerned with the cares of this world below: 
the monks alone are within the pale of the church ; 
the laymen, the black men (nnnag)^ as they are called, 
poor people with dim minds, chained to falsehood, 
steeped in the flesh, eaten up with desires, arc necessarily 
without the fence: they are definitely those who do not 
follow the way of truth. That is why the lamas deeply 
despise the laymen, the more so as the latter are unable 
to allege any excuse, to clain^ any indulgence, seeing that 
the inferiority of their condition is the consequence of 
the inferiority of their conduct in their previous 
existence, 

Christianity also, no doubt, preaches indifference to 
the world and one need not stretch greatly certain 
passages in the Gospels to deduce u theory of renuncia- 
tion as absolute as that of Buddhism ; but beside those 
passages there are others which make allowances for the 
necessities of active life and which make room in the 
house for all men of good will. If the tendencies 
towards perfect renunciation nearly prevailed at the 
beginning, when men were enclosed in a narrow circle 
and believed the end of the world to bo at hand, the* 
practical side of Gospel teaching soon gained the ascend- 
ant when the community had spread. As for Islamism, 
this is an entirely practical religion, which does not stray 
into the indefinite regions of the ideal and which, there- 
fore, is, even more than Christianity, a religion of laymen, 
of men engaged in the business of the age ; and, whereas, 
in Christianity, the priest preserves a marked spiritual 
superiority over the layman, he has none in Islamism, 



328 Itibet 

Such are the reasons for which these two last religions 
have always exercised an incomparably greater social and 
moral influence than Buddhism. 

The Tibetan lamas trouble hardly at all abqut the 
people, except to extract their sustenance from it*and to 
keep it under their temporal authority. For this reason, 
they solicitously foster its superstitions instead of crush- 
ing them and nurture its belief in their superiority, which 
is inaccessible to any layman, and in their power over 
divine beings, demons and nature. They pass fo$ 
the necessary intermediaries between mankind and the 
divinity. "There is no god without lama," says the 
proverb ; and the clergy has constituted itself the dis- 
tributor of temporal as well as of spiritual benefits, has 
given a fillip to Buddha to Compel that impassive god to 
trouble himself a little about the affairs of this world, has 
infused new life into all the popular deities whom the 
Enlightened One flung back into their nothingness, 
has monopolised them and made itself their com- 
missioner on earth. The necessity for strengthening 
their credit with the common people that supports them 
has obliged the monks to modify their original character 
as well as alter their doctrines : they have had to 
diminish their isolation, to step down from the tower 
of ivory in which Sakya Muni meant to enclose them, 
from contemplative to become militant, to combine 
with their monastic profession the functions of priests 
and sorcerers. They have purely and simply taken the 
place of the Ponbo priests of old and resigned them- 
selves to rendering the people the same services in 
order to receive from them the same wage. Shrewd 
dealers in religious commodities, they supply all articles 
in demand after the desired pattern ; ana, more eager 
to satisfy their customers' tastes than to impose their 
own, they have opened more departments * in their 
shops than Buddha ever expected. To tell the truth, 



TCibct 329 

some of these wares arc of a quality so inferior that 
the lamas do not stoop to use them for themselves : 
such s for instancej are the ceremonies intended to guide 
the sank of the dead in their passage from this world 
to thfi next ; hut, since the vulgar herd likes them and 
is willing to pay a good price for them, they let it have 
as many as it asks for. 

On the whole, Buddhism has but very little improved 
the manners of the Tibetans* It has added to their 
superstitions without removing any in return ; it has 
kept alive their distrustful and crafty highland ways ; 
it has done nothing to inspire them with a deeper sense 
of virtue and honesty. From the religious point of 
view s it has not inculcated a more wholesome conception 
of the divinity ; and of all ifs beautiful metaphysical and 
moral doctrines only one has pervaded the whole people: 
that of the transmigration of souls, but spoilt and 
debased to such a pitch that the Tibetan employs it to 
silence his scruples and, with a safe conscience, to cheat 
his neighbour, whom he presumes to have been capable 
of cheating him in a previous life* Still, we must 
honour Buddhism for abolishing human sacrifices, for 
spreading the respect for science and books, for setting 
a noble moral aim before a few chosen soul% for kindling 
a flame of ideality, feeble though it be, on the mountains 
of Tibetj which, but for that flamt% would have remained 
dark and devoid of glory- 



CHAPTER X 

THE ORGANISATION OF THE CLERGY 

The monastic hierarchy The number, power and wealth of the monks 
The different religious orders; the rcai position of the Dalai 
Lama; the Dalai Lama is not a pope, 

THE influence of Buddhism has been, above all, material 
and political, thanks to its cltygy, which has obtained an 
unprecedented temporal power and ended by holding 
universal sway, by bending all men's minds to passive 
obedience and imbuing them with a certain gentleness, 
which has been very wrongly attributed to the theories 
of Sakya Muni, The clergy of Tibet owes its social 
and political mastery to several causes and, first of all, 
to its powerfully-organised hierarchy and to the inflexible 
discipline to which all its members are subjected. At 
the head stands a general, whose jurisdiction, which 
comprises rights of life and death, extends over all 
the convents and all the monks of his order spread 
over the whole surface of the countries where the 
Tibetan tongue is spoken, In each district is a pro* 
vincial appointed by the general ; at the head of each 
convent an abbot (kanpo) deputed by the provincial 
and sanctioned by the general 

Under the abbot, in each monastery, are two classes 
of dignitaries, spiritual and temporal, The spiritual 
dignitaries are the kbpon (sbbdpon), or director of studies ; 
the bumdxad (dbumdzad),w minister of reli|-^; and 
the chochimpa (chwkrimspa), or prefect of discipline and 

830 



331 

ecclesiastical judge. When the first dies or resigns, he 
Is regularly succeeded by the second and the latter by 
the third. This last is chosen by lot before the sacred 
imagoe by three lamas appointed for that purpose by the 
princfpal dignitaries. It often happens that the lobpon 
is the same as the kanpo, but this depends upon the 
wishes of the provincial The administration of the 
temporal goods is confided to u shtiJstt (pyagmdzoth), 
or treasurer, who comes immediately after the bumdzati 
in rank and who has under his orders a >/tr/w, or bursar 
and coadjutor of the treasurer CM spc sttccessionisy who is 
himself assisted by a nerchonfa or undcr-bursar, nominated 
by the treasurer* The under-bursar is the ordinary 
agent of the convent outside its walls ; he looks after 
the workmen, the husbar^lmen, the herdsmen of the 
convent. Different inferior functions, some profitable* 
some honorary, are distributed by the spiritual awl 
temporal heads, who thus keep up among the monks 
a spirit of emulation beneficial to good order and 
discipline. 

The monks are divided into two classes : the #'/0;/jf 
(dgfshng)) who are monks in the full enjoyment of their 
functions, and the getsul) or deacons, who have received 
a solemn initiation, by which they become the husbands 
of the church, and who spend twelve years in passing 
through different stages. Below these two classes of 
monks are the dapa (graft* )* or novices, and, lastly, the 
simple candidates for the noviciate, who are subject to 
discipline without having any privileges* Not every 
one is allowed to present himself as a candidate : thc k more 
important convents receive only the sons of good families 
all accept only children of decent birth and endowed with 
good physical and mental constitutions* The monas- 
teries skim the cream of the population for themselves ; 
they talce the most robust and the most intelligent 
individuals. As, on the other hand, the clergy is usually 



332 

better fed than the laity excepting a few of its members 
who practise maceration the expression "as fat as a 
monk " is as current in Tibet as it used to be elsewhere ; 
and, as they have leisure and are obliged to study^ they 
maintain and increase their intellectual superiority* over 
the rest of the nation. 

To the powerful organisation of the monastic body 
and the superior quality of its members must be added 
the extraordinary number of the latter. There is no 
instance of any ancient or modern country containing so< 
great a multitude of monks, for they number, on the 
average, one to every four laymen. There are certainly 
in Tibet at least 500,000 monks, without counting Ladak 
and Sikkim. All the superfluous children who would 
grievously overcrowd the paternal house, all those who, 
though of poor birth, are ambitious and feel that they 
have the intelligence and the will to succeed go to swell 
the army of monks* To people of low origin to enter 
the religious state is the only way to rise above their 
condition : by this means, they may hope to attain the 
highest positions, with great difficulty, it is true, and 
with a great disadvantage as against members of rich or 
noble families, who are always preferred and privileged 
in those homes of poverty and humility, the convents ; 
but still the door is not hermetically closed to them, as it 
is in the lay state, In this way, not only does the clergy 
draw to itself all individual men of worth, but again there 
fa not a Tibetan family, noble or base-born, but has several 
of its members in convents and is thus interested in 
the prosperity of the clergy. The prefect of Nagchu 
Jong told us that, in every family, two male children 
out of five become monks* This evidence was con- 
firmed by several persons and nothing could be mote 
imprudent than for a family to try to avoid paying this 
human tithe. Moreover, the considerable material 
advantages offered by the ecclesiastical state and the 



Utbet 333 

compromises that can easily be effected with the 
apparently so strict rule remove any reason for 
fearing to take the cloth. 

The monastic army is not only numerous and well 
disciplined: it is concentrated in 3>ooo monasteries re- 
sembling so many fortresses, perched on the mountain 
rocks, amply stocked with provisions, filled with arms 
and ammunition, to which the lamas, despite their 
ministry of peace, are not afraid of resorting. In case 
of public danger, the sacred trumpet sounds and the 
monks take down their matchlocks and lances, make 
trousers of their shawls (stingos) and go off to the war. 
Around these monasteries lie vast domains which are 
their property, crops and pasture-lands which feed 
immense nocks. These fields and pastures are entrusted 
to farmers (gonyoks) who work on shares, who hold 
nothing in their own right, who contract to cultivate 
the land and watch the herds of the monks and who 
are bound to supply annually a quantity of butter, wool 
and barley fixecl beforehand by the treasurer, If the 
herds or the fields entrusted to the farmer produce more, 
the surplus is for him ; in the same way, the probable 
increase of the cattle is fixed each year by the treasurer 
and the farmer benefits by any residue. The treasurer 
makes his calculations strictly enough to prevent the 
farmer's profit from being more than a slender one and 
he nearly always takes more than half the gross income 
for the convent. These gonyoks are not only tillers of 
the soil and shepherds : they are also manufacturers ; 
they make woollen stuffs, jewellery, pottery for their 
ecclesiastical masters ; they are masons, carpenters, 
smiths, millers, caravaneers. They are subject to the 
jurisdiction of the lamas and owe them all the labour 
which the latter choowe to exact, without being entitled 
to any w5ge, Nevertheless, they do not entirely escape 
the authority of the Lhasa government: they pay taxew 



334 {Tibet 

to the amount of two-thirds of those paid by its direct 
subjects and are allowed to appeal to its judicial system 
in certain cases and according to certain rules which I 
was not able to ascertain with precision, 

Over and above their landed and house property and 
their herds, the convents possess treasures accumulated 
during centuries : gold, silver and precious objects, 
sometimes of considerable richness. They receive a host 
of gifts and bequests: not a Tibetan dies but leaves a 
good part of his personalty to the nearest convent; every 
child that takes the vows brings a dower in proportion 
to his means: every lama gives to the convent a share 
of his personal gains, for the lama is anything but a 
worthless asset. He is, according to circumstances, a 
parish-priest, a fortune-teller, a wizard, a doctor, an 
apothecary, ;i painter, a sculptor, a printer, a writer, a 
reader, a trader or a beggar ; he sells little statues, 
praying-wheels, books, lucky trinkets, rosaries, indul- 
gences in pills, prayers, formulas, charms and amulets 
against all possible and impossible misfortunes, remedies, 
incantations and horoscopes. When a man marries or 
dies, the lamas come in the greatest possible number to 
assist him, for cash ; when he meets with misfortune, they 
charge for driving away his bad luck ; when he meets 
with good fortune, they charge for offering up thanks ; 
when nothing happens to him, good or bad, they charge 
again for preventing things from becoming worse* All 
perquisites remain the monk's own property, except the 
tithe deducted by the community. If a lama leave a 
personal fortune at his death, it goes to his family, all 
but the part which he always bequeaths by will to the 
monastery. For the rest, the monks support themselves 
at their own expense. They have a separate house or 
room in the convent, where they live more or less 
comfortably according to their means and thfiir ptet^* 
The community supplies them only with a certain 



quantity of barley (about 24olbs. a year in Ladak), 
with buttered tea three times a day and with a piece 
of stuff for clothing. Its expenses do not amount to 
the profit which it derives from its members ; and, even 
then, Jits burdens are relieved by the offerings of the 
laity or the rich lamas, who often pay for a round of 
tea or a piece of stuff to all the monks of the convent. 
The chief lamas, being personally richer than the 
others, are, of course, supported at the expense of the 
community ; by virtue of their dignity, they receive 
plentiful alms from the devout ; the treasurers, in the 
course of their administration, make considerable sums 
and always have a share, generally a fifth, in the 
commercial business of the convent 

As the monasteries dispose of most of the capital of 
the country, they have monopolised nearly all the trade 
and all the finance and these do not form the smallest part 
;>f their revenues. Of the trade I have already spoken ; 
'is to finance, the convents undertake to make the money 
sf private individuals pay by investing it in their own 
business ; also and above all, they lend money at thirty 
per cent, to all applicants, on good security, chiefly on 
mortgages. If the borrower does not pay at the given 
time, they show kindness and consideration, let him sink 
deeper into debt, help him a little and end by selling 
him up and annexing his fields to those of the monastery, 
They do not lend to the poor, for that would be giving ; 
and the lama receives, but does not give* 

t If you cnre to seek for a comparison in history, you 
might say that a Tibetan convent is a Roman patrician, 
great landlord and justiciary in one, having under its 
orders many agents and many servants, who make of 
its house and its annexes one large city, producing all 
the commodities necessary for life, supplied with nil the 
necessary* or superfluous manufactures, importing and 
exporting great quantities of goods. The comparison 



336 

becomes still more accurate when you consider that the 
lamas, like the patricians of old, are masters of the 
auspices, alone possess the formulas that influence the 
gods and reign over souls as over matter. This .moral 
cause of the strength of the clergy is perhaps nti less 
powerful than all the others put together. It has not 
converted men's minds to the truth, but it has taught 
them to respect the ministers of the divinity, some 
hundreds of whom are gods upon earth,* while a few 
others are able, by force of meditation, to hold then 
breath long enough to defy the laws of gravitation and 
to float in mid-air. 

The religion of Tibet consists in its essence of a 
concatenation of superstitious practices and of a constant 
veneration shown to the lamas, to whom it would be a 
namelesss crime to do the feast injury. A theft com- 
mitted on a lama entails a ten times greater penalty than 
one committed on a layman; to murder a layman is 
thrt k e or four times as cheap as to murder a monk. 
This docs not keep the Tibetans from loving to sneer 
at their monks, to criticise their greed of gain and their 
tyranny, to scoff at their hypocrisy and to tell sprightly 
stories about them. In this they resemble the Italians 
of the middle ages; but their boldness shows itself only 
in words and they are all the humbler and more servile 
in action. 

And so, to sum up, the Tibetan clergy possesses all 
the known elements of dominion : religious authority, 
territorial wealth, financial and commercial supremacy^ 
armed force, numbers and discipline. Even the spell 
derived from the principle of heredity has been pressed 
into their own service by these celibates in a very par- 
ticular fashion ; for those of the lamas in whom the 
spiritual authority resides are considered as being divine 

* The incarnntloiiK of Buddha number 70 in Tibet, 76 in Mongolia 
and 14 !n the neighbourhood of Peking. 



ttlbet 337 

hypostases, of which not only is the race perpetuated 
through the ages, but their very persons are reincarnated, 
ever identically, under successive forms. 

Until now, I have presented the Tibetan clergy as a 
body <Jne and indivisible. This is its first appearance ; but, 
' if we prolong our examination, we find that this clergy 
is divided into several different monastic orders, each of 
which has its special hierarchy and its own independent 
general. The Dalai Lama is only the most important 
general of these orders : the other generals show him the 
deference due to a person of eminent dignity, but they 
are in no way subordinate to him from the religious 
point of view ; they owe him no obedience save inas- 
much as he is actually their temporal sovereign ; and that 
is why it is quite inaccurate ^to compare the Dalai Lama 
with the Pope. Within the order of the Dalai Lama 
himself there is a person, the Pangchen Kinpocheh of 
Tachilhunpo, who enjoys no less a spiritual dignity and 
Is his inferior only in temporal power. The Chinese 
take good care to support him and to keep hint in 
reserve, in case the Dalai Lama should cease to show the 
necessary docility* 

The monastic order of which the Dalai Lama is the 
head is that of the Gelugpa (Dgelugspa), which was 
founded about the year 1400 by Tsongkapa, a monk 
of the Koko Nor district, who may be compared with 
Hildebrand (Gregory VII.), like himself a reformer of 
the monastic orders which had lapsed into laxity and 
forgetfulness of their good rules. He endeavoured to 
restore Buddhism to its original purity, to rid it of the 
Horccry and the superstitious practices that dishonoured 
it and to compel the true believers, that is to say the 
monks, to display a more austere virtue and a greater 
respect for their vows of renunciation and poverty* He 
Succeeded *in part ; and although, since his death, the 
convents of his rule have gradually degenerated, there are 



338 

still some in which the greatest austerity and discipline 
prevail, The monks who drink brandy or have com- 
merce with women are beaten and expelled ; and one 
comes across a good number of unfrocked Gelugpa. It 
is said, it is true, that punishment reaches only tfte poor 
devils who have no money with which to soften the 
rules and those who apply them ; still, we must not 
put greater faith in the popular talcs than they deserve 
and, though abuses evidently exist, it is none the less 
true that many chief lamas are above all suspicion. A^ 
for sorcery, it was too effective a means of domination 
to be given up without, at the same time, being replaced 
by some inferior substitute ; and, accordingly, the 
Gelugpa, while maintaining a certain reserve in this 
respect, nevertheless number among their ranks the 
greatest two or three sorcerers in Tibet and the famous 
convent of Ramocheh, at Lhasa, is a veritable school of 
magic. 

Since the time of Tsongkapn, nil the heads of the 
Gclugpu, called Dalai Lama or Gyamcho Rinpochch 
(Rgyamcho Rinpocheh)* have been looked upon as 
incarnations of Avalokita or Chara/i (Spyanrasgyjgs), 
the Creator, the judge of souls, the celestial hypostasis 
of Amitabha, the Sun-Buddha. Charazi had already 
been incarnated before in King Srongtsangampo ; he is 
the special patron of Tibet, he to whom the invocation, 
a million times repeated, "Om mam padmt hum /" is 
addressed. The present Dalai Lama, Tub Chan, born 
in 1876, is, according to the only authentic list officially 
recognised at Lhasa, the twelfth successor of the first 
Dalai Lama, born in 



i Uimu h Mongolian; Gyamctw Kinpocheh it* Tibetan. The 
former title, although couched in *i foreign language, J* fairly wett 
known in Tibet, Dalai means aea or ocean, UH doc Gyamcho ; Kinpocheh 
mean* prectouft jewel. The title mrwt frequently uncd^ncxt to th^ 
Above, U Bang (Dbang) Rinpocheh : Hi* Mont Mighty and Mont 
PrecbuM Mtgcwty, 



{Tibet 339 

Side by side with the Gelugpa exist some twenty 
different orders, of which only four deserve mention. 
The oldest of all and also the most corrupt is that of 
the Nyingmapa (Rnyingmapa), or the old ones, of 
which'the origin goes back to Paclma Sambhava himself. 
This first apostle of Tibet was obliged, in order to 
spread Buddhism widely in the eighth century, to make 
it more agreeable with a host of devilries borrowed 
from India and from the old local religion, thus fighting 
4he Ponbos with their own weapons. The Nyingmapa 
have followed in the errors of their patron, to whom 
they offer an idolatrous worship, and they are to 
this day addicted to all the practices of magic familiar 
to the Ponbos* Their rule is not a severe one and 
does not enjoin celibacy. Their principal convent, 
where their Living Buddha resides, is that of Tsari ; 
Sugti Gompa, in Ladak, and perhaps Dergyeh Gompa 
belong to this rule, as does the convent of women at 
ISamdingj on Lake Yamtog, whose abbess is an incarna- 
tion of a greatly-revered sow-goddess, assimilated to 
the Indian goddess of the dawn, but probably a relic 
of the old local creed, The Tibetans believe that 
the nuns of this convent are sows in human shape 
and that they resume their real nature when they 
please. The pig plays a great part in the popular religion 
of the Tibetans : it is a powerful enemy of the evil 
spirits and the god of the hearth is represented with 
tnj head of a pig. It is probably a symbol of the 
fecundity of nature. The number of the Nyingmapa 
monks is considerable and it is not certain that it does 
not equal that of the Gelugpa, 

The reforming movement introduced in the eighth 
century under the influence of Atisa gave birth to two 
separate qfdcrs, which were subsequently divided into 
several sub-orders. That of the Kargyupu was not very 
l, because it was ait order of hermits ; but from 



340 tCibet 

it issued the two important sub-orders of the Karmapa 
and the Dugpa (Hbrugpa). The principal Karmapa 
monasteries are those of Sutsur, to the north of Lhasa, 
and of Gyeseh ; the centre of the Dugpa is Dejenchu 
Gompa(?) and their most famous and wealthiest convent 
is that of Himis, in Ladak. In Bhotan there are no 
monks except of this latter rule, which is not much 
severer than that of the Nyingmapa. 

The order of the Saskyapa, which received from 
Kublai Khan the temporal sovereignty of Tibet, stitt 
holds sway to this day in Mongolia and North-eastern 
Tibet. Its living Buddha, who resides at Saskya Gompa, 
to the south-west of Jikatse,* is also venerated by the 
Nyingmapa. The gcgen of Urga, the chief lama of 
Mongolia, belongs to thij order. The monks of 
Jyergu Gompa and of Tumbumdo arc Saskyapa. Their 
convents are painted in longitudinal white, black, red, 
blue and yellow stripes, which are the five colours 
representing the five sacred elements. The lamas oi 
this order are not allowed to drink brandy ; celibacy 
is not looked upon as necessary or obligatory, but 
only as meritorious. 

All orders other than the Gelugpa arc commonly 
spoken of by the Chinese as red lamas, in opposition to 
the Gelugpa, who are called yellow lamas because of the 
colour worn by the celebrants in the ceremonies of their 
religion. All these orders are distinguished more par- 
ticularly by their rules of discipline, by a peculiar 
devotion for this or that hypostasis of Buddha, by the 
choice of a special tutelary divinity. The dogmatic 
differences do not mean much to us : they are no 
greater than those which separate the Roman Catholic 
Church from the Greek Catholic Church, Many lamas 

* This incarnation of Buddha can be born again only in tibet \ * trick* 
of Chinese policy, which has than tried to withdraw the choice from 
the always} considerable influence of the lay prince* of Mongolia. 



341 

know nothing of them ; and the sometimes very keen 
rivalries that exist between the various orders are based 
upon temporal rather than spiritual reasons. AH, with- 
out exception, recognise the Pangchen Rinpochch and 

the Dalai Lama as the loftiest incarnations of the 
divinity ; the Gelugpa, in their turn, admit the authen- 
ticity of the incarnations venerated by the Nyingmapa 

or the Saskyapa; and the latter are not subordinate to 
the former, because both, in principle, represent one 
%nd the same god. The Dalai Lama is merely primus 
inter pares : he has no authority over the other orders 

and cannot reform their rule, which has never been 
submitted for his approval* As for the people, they care 
not at all for these divergencies ; in their eyes, all the 

lamas, yellow or red, are equally qualified to influence 
the supernatural powers on their behalf, to save them 
from the tricks of the devils and to obtain for them 
good health, good harvests and a happy transmigration.* 

* Thcttc various considerations, added to the fact that there are very 
few real Huttdbtt outside Mongolia and Tibet, nhow that any policy 
founded on " PunbudUhinm " would be the vainest of vain illusions. 



CHAPTER XI 

ADMINISTRATION AND POLICY 

Divisions : the kingdom of Lhasa Central power ; taxes ; officials The 
public forces Predominating influence of the clergy in the govern- 
ment -The Chinese protectorate and the policy of China in Tibet - 
The policy of England- -The principalities and tribes of Extern 
Tibet arc independent of Lhasa and directly subject to China, 

FROM the political point of* view, the whole of Tibet, 
with the exception of Ladak, Baltistan, Spiti and a part 
of Sikkim, is dependent on China ; but it is fur from 
forming one administrative whole. Since the remotest* 
times, Tibet has been divided into four provinces which 
cut up the country into longitudinal zones and which 
are, beginning in trie west : Ngaris (Mngaris), the inde- 
pendent region ; Chang (Gtsang), the pure country ; 
Bu or Wu v (Dbus), the central country ; Kam (Khams), 
the land. Ngaris includes Baltwtan, Ladak and the 
Gartog and Rudok districts ; Chang has Jikatse for its 
capital; Lhasa is the capital of Bu ; and Charmio may 
be considered as the centre of Kam, which is the largest 
of the four provinces, This purely historical division 
corresponds, at the present time, with no reality and I 
mention it only by the way. 

For the purposes of the Chinese administration, 
Tibet, in our day, is divided into three parts : the south* 
west, which is directly dependent on the Viceroy of 
Sechuen; the north-west, which is subjeft to the 1 



342 



authority of the Imperial Legate of Sining ; 
remainder, which is under the Imperial Legate of ^ 
The boundaries of this third division contain the 
kingdom of the Dalai Lama and various detached 
principalities. 

Let us speak first of the kingdom of Lhasa* which 
forms the most important and the most populous^ part 
of Tibet Its limits are British India and Chinese 
Turkestan, the sources of the Chumar, the mountains 
that separate the Upper Nag Chu and the Upper Chag 
thu, the Tachang La, the Nfagchu Valley, the Mekong 
Valley from about I/at. 31 to nearly Lat. 28. Beyond 
these limits, certain territories are in dispute, as we 
shall see ; within them, the Pangchen Rinpocheh of 
Tachilhunpo holds sway over nearly 100,000 souls in 
the province of Chang an< the chief lama of Saskya 
Gompa is master over his own district. Poy^'j which 
is inhabited mainly by Ponbos, forms an enclave inde- 
pendent of the Dalai Lama and directly dependent upon 
the Imperial Legate of Lhasa. I estimate the territories 
directly .subject to the authority of the head of the 
Gclugpa to contain a population of 1,500,000 inhabit- 
ant^ including 300,000 monks, 

The government, in its present form, was organised 
by the Chinese, who, in 1751, finally abolished the lay 
monarchy and placed the temporal power in the hands 
of the Dalai Lama, who, however, has but a purely 
honorary title from the political point of view : he is 
only the nominal depository of public authority, ^ nor 
could he well be otherwise, seeing that, on principle, 
he in raised to the throne while still in his si waddling* 
clothes; moreover, he would degrade his divinity by 
busying himself too closely with the world's afflun^ The 
effective power belongs to a lama who bears the title ot 
gyatsat Ctgy&faabJi w viceroy, who appoints of confirms 
all the officials and who settles all business of high 



344 

importance in concert with the kalons (bkabhn). These, 
who are four in number, are all laymen : they have the 
general direction of the administration and are the 
keepers of the royal seal, but they are bound to report 
any weighty business to the viceroy. Under the Galons 
are sixteen or seventeen administrative colleges of two 
or three lay or religious members, such as the college 
of accounts (tsifon)> the college of the treasury (shadso)^ 
the college of public granaries (nyertmngfa)^ the college 
of justice (chagpon) and the rest. The kalons have 
around them a court of young attaches (tungkor), all 
of noble birth, from among whom the lay adminis- 
trative staff is almost exclusively recruited. The Tibetan 
territory is divided into 80 (?) districts administered by 
prefects (jongpon} t who, like the Chinese officials, 
combine administrative, judfcial and financial functions. 
The Tibetan government raises few taxes in money; 
most often, it draws from each district contributions in 
kind according to the nature of the produce proper 
to the district : butter, hides, raw wool, barley, wheat, 
horses and so on. Nominally, the taxes amount to 
about one-sixtieth of the capital (one rupee to five 
yaks), but the arbitrariness of the officials largely 
increases the proportion. Moreover, there arc contribu- 
tions in manual labour : the manufacture, on behalf of 
the State, of woollen stuffs, arms, appliances, tools ; the 
carriage of baggage ; the building and repairing of roads, 
bridges, forts and various structures. If, luckily for 
the tax-payers, the State is not lavish in the matter 
of public works, it and its agents, by way of retalia- 
tion, are constantly sending over the roads all manner 
of goods and baggage, for the carriage of which its 
subjects arc bound to supply, free of cost, hones, 
yaks, or, on occasions, the use of their shoulders* 
Nothing makes them grumble more than tMs forced 
labour (ula& from the Turkic ulagh}, which often takes 



TCibct 345 

them by surprise at the moment when they most need 
their time and their beasts* Add to this forced sales 
at exaggerated prices, of which I have already spoken and 
to which the government resorts more or less according 
to the condition of its coffers, and free gifts, which 
are obligatory, for every good and loyal subject and all 
subjects are thus defined is bound to give alms to the 
State and, when he dies, to bequeath to it a part of 
his personal chattels. In the main, in Tibet, children 
inherit none of the personalty of their fathers, all that 
(Joes not fall to the government going to the monks. 
The Dalai Lama, for his part, has a special resource in 
the sale of indulgences, which takes the most unexpected 
forms, and in that of statuettes, amulets and blessed 
rosaries, He sends his agents into every Buddhist 
country, into Tibet proper, Ladak, Mongolia and China,* 
to sell tea or pieces of wool, in his name, at the most 
exorbitant prices and to throw in with the goods a 
^quantity of indulgences in proportion to the generosity 
of the believers* 

The officials are paid no salary, but receive, by way 
of privilege, more or less extensive territories, upon 
which they have the right to administer justice** and 
to raise taxes on their own account. They have also 
various sources of profit, lawful and unlawful ; they 
make deductions from the product of the taxes ; they 
requisition workmen free or almost free of cost for their 
private needs ; they exact presents on various occasions : 
accession-gifts, parting presents and so forth ; they 
pocket the fines in which they mulct culprits ; lastly, 
they receive the fees of the litigants* This last source 
of revenue is one of the most profitable, for, if the 
litigant docs not bring a few lumps of butter under his 
cloak, if the money does not chink in his purse, if no 

* The Chiruttte buy object a coming from the Dalai Lama a magic 
talisman*. 



346 

sheep bleats behind him, if a few chickens do not pule 
in his bag, his case is dismissed and he has to pay the 
costs. The Tibetans know this and comply without 
reluctance, thinking, with Crispin, that justice is so fine 
a thing that you cannot pay too dearly for it.r The 
lower orders, in general, display towards the magistrates 
and the agents of authority a crawling servility which 
I have never seen equalled in cither Turkestan or 
China* This respect is not instilled into the Tibetan 
by esteem, but by a state of mind in which arc mingled 
the fear of blows, superstitious terrors and the sense ol 
his own wretchedness and of his weakness in the face of 
the evils that beset him. The king and his agents, even 
the laymen, arc considered to partake of the divine nature ; 
consequently, the. people have the same opinion of them us 
of the gods, those formidable and malignant beings whom 
one must carefully avoid irritating and against whom one 
must protect one's self by means of incantations. No 
Tibetan goes to law before performing certain rites, 
intended to oblige the judge to decide in his favour. 

The public peace is maintained by a sort of mounted 
police consisting of men called aptuks. There are many 
hundreds of these under the direct orders of the central 
government ; in addition, the prefect has several at his 
disposal The policemen of the central government are 
fed at the expense of the State, but they all live apart, 
each with his own family, and receive no salary. They 
must have their arms and their horse and be always 
ready to start at the first call When the father is too 
old, his son succeeds him. The departmental policemen 
are not fed at the cost of the administration ; they are 
merely exempt from taxation. It is rather a title of 
honour, the aptuks all being men of good family and 
enjoying a certain credit. 

There is no regular army, except a small* troop at 
Lhasa which serves as a pretext for the employment on 



347 

active service of six dapons (mdadpon)^ or generals, and 
^i 56 other officers. The whole population is organised 
into a militia in the same way as the Mongols, but less 
severely. Every man capable of bearing arms and of 
paying the cost of his military outfit is bound to serve 
as a soldier whenever he is ordered to do so. His 
keep during the continuance of the campaign is at his 
own expense. This expense is very heavy, for there 
arc great distances to be covered and the roads are very 
bad. Under good officers, the Tibetans would make 
fairly good soldiers, provided that they were not taken 
out of their country. They are accustomed to marching, 
make little of crossing mountains that would cause 
foreigners to hesitate, are easy to feed, do not fear the 
inclemency of the weather, are practised in the use of 
weapons and have a profound respect for their leaders, 
while nothing is easier than to inspire them, by human 
or supernatural means, with the most absolute confidence 
5u victory. But clericalism has enervated the military 
spirit and they who have constituted themselves leaders 
of men are often violent, but timid and cowardly. At 
the time of the Sikkim business, the government was 
at great pains to collect on the British frontier 30,000 
men, some of whom came from Chatndo > having marched 
for two months, carrying all their provisions with 
them : when the day of battle came, the English shelled 
the chief lamas, who stood gathered on a rising ground 
and who immediately turned to the right about, having 
imposed all this labour and almost ruin upon poor 
people only to treat them to the spectacle of their 
leaders' shame. 

In sptte of the absence of a standing army and the 
weakness of the police, the government is able to make 
its orders obeyed even in the most remote districts. 
This is title to the terror inspired by the severity with 
which it punishes the least offences against its authority ; 



t; 



to the presence in every centre of any importance of high 
officials, who are great enough to command respect and 
too small to venture to attempt anything against the 
State ; to the cunning system of mutual espionage that 
prevails in every section of society ; and to the* great 
number of lamas distributed throughout the country, all 
of whom are devoted to the government, which works 
through them and for them. In fact, from the political 
and administrative point of view, the clergy has reduced 
the lay clement to a small pittance and has left it onlj 
so much as could not well be taken from it without 
exasperating it to the pitch of revolt. It is true that the 
four ministers are laymen, but they are subordinate to 
the religious viceroy. In the central government there 
is an equal number of lamas and laymen ; in each district 
there are two prefects, one religious and one lay, who are 
supposed to be equal, whereas, in reality, the chief duty 
of the second is to nod his approval of all the acts of the 
first. If a layman be placed in charge of a special 
mission, diplomatic or other, he is always accompanied 
by a lama, who says nothing, who seems to have nothing 
to do but tell his beads, but who watches his companion's 
words, deeds and movements and reports them to Lhasa* 
The social condition of the clergy, as described in the 
last chapter, prepares us for this state of things. 

Though absolute in theory, the authority of the 
central power is limited in practice by the privileges ot 
the clergy in general, to whom the greatest deference 
is due, and by the privileges of the local magnates. 
At Lhasa, the viceroy is the master only in appearance. 
Chosen obligatorily from among the members of one of 
the three more important monasteries of the neighbour- 
hood Depung (Hbrasspungs), Sera, or Serra, and Galdatt 
(Dgaldan) he is a tool in the hands of that one of the 
three to which he belongs and he allows it to enjoy 
a predominant influence. Moreover, the ecclesiastical 



349 

authorities of these three monasteries are always con- 
sulted in important affairs and each of them assigns 
a special delegate to every official mission. All three 
place j large number of their members in the public 
offices and there is hardly a civil servant but comes 
from one of them ; all three alike are supported at 
the cost of the State ; and it may be said that all that 
portion of the net proceeds of taxation which is not 
absorbed by the Court of the Dalai Lnma and the 
rt?quiroments of public worship ' is employed in pension- 
ing Depung, Sera and Galdan. In conclusion, these 
three convents are the real masters of the State by 
reason of the number of their monks (20,000),^ 
of their wealth, of the multitude of their servants, of 
their proximity to the capital* of the large number of 
priories under obedience to their abbots and of their 
relations with the greatest families of the country^ all of 
^which number members of the monasteries among their 
kinsmen. The result is a series of ardent rivalries and 
intrigues, in which poison and riots play their alternate 
parts ; Sera owes its present pre-eminence to no more 
laudable means. In the provinces, the government is 
limited by the landholders^ who have certain rights of 
justice, forced labour and taxation over their serfs, 
notably by the chief among them, namely the great 
monastenCvS, such as Dikung, Mindoling, Tsari, 
Gyangtse, Mingeh and Lharu Furthermore, it limits 
itself by abandoning all or a part of its rights over portions 

* The expense* of public wornhip, ceremonies, prayer* and HO forth 
amount to 32,000 ; of the Dwlui Lama and his Court to 8,000 charged 
upon the tuxes, without counting the Dalai Lama's private profits, 
which are much greater. 

i They mty that there arc 9,000 at Dcpung, 8,000 at Sera and 
5,000 at GuUlun, Theae figures are p r0 bably u little exaggerated, but 
ttfrtt much, ^Thti plain of Lhaaa contains 30,000 itwnka, all of whom, 
tm fitting, wee the ftnrt ray* of the gun tthirtc upon the golden roof 
of the 1'otwin. 



350 

of territory in favour of its officials or of the convents, 
leaving it to them to provide for their administration 
and to keep a special register of the receipts and 
expenses connected therewith. 

We now see the complex nature of a political situa- 
tion that hides itself under an apparent homogeneity: 
two aristocracies, one of which is lay, enfeebled and 
subordinate, but nevertheless exists ; the other religious 
and itself divided into a score of monastic orders, of 
which four or five are important. In the first of these 
orders are two persons who are equal ecclesiastically, 
although unequal politically; among the dependants of 
the first of these persons are three convents disputing one 
another's influence. This enables us to understand how 
the Chinese government can keep up its authority in 
Tibet with twenty-one officials and less than 1,500 
soldiers. It was the Chinese government that placed the 
Dalai Lama and his partisans in the high position which 
they enjoy to-day, because it saw in them the best instru-' 
ment for bridling the king and the lay aristocracy, ever 
turbulent and impatient or the yoke ; because it clearly 
saw that an ecclesiastical administration is eminently 
adapted to humble men's souls, to teach them meekness 
and obedience ; lastly, because, by attaching the principal 
religious head of Buddhism to itself, it made sure, at the 
same time, of the fidelity of the pious Buddhists that arc 
the Mongols. Even if the Dalai Lama and his followers 
were tempted to forget the obligations under which they 
lie towards the Chinese government, they could not 
forget that Tibet is unable to resist a Chinese army and 
that the Emperor, by shifting his good-will to the rivals 
of the Dalai Lama, could cause the latter the greatest 
annoyances. Besides, the Emperor does not admit that 
an incarnation of Buddha can, by virtue ot fcis divine 
nature, escape in any manner from the imperial 
authority ; and, should the case occur, he arrogates to 



fcfbet 351 

himself the right to withdraw from circulation the 
Buddhas who have ceased to please, by issuing decrees 
prohibiting them from reappearing in human form. 
And, therefore, the Resident General, who represents the 
Empefor at Lhasa, enjoys considerable authority in both 
internal and external affairs ; I say considerable and not 
undisputed authority, for the Tibetans, for all their 
appearance of gentleness, are not lacking in that 
obstinacy and that stubbornness which we observe in 
the devotees of all countries. 

This Resident General or Imperial Legate (kinch&i) 
has the same rank as the governor of a province (second 
class of the second rank, with the dark-red button), 
He is always selected from among the Manchus, as are 
the Imperial Legates of Sining and Mongolia. He is 
under the Viceroy of Sechufcn, but he has the right of 
corresponding direct with Peking. He is assisted by a 
vice-legate, who is also a Manchu, and by fifteen officials, 
TVlanchu, Chinese or Nepalese secretaries and inter- 
preters* Moreover there are a commissary (kiingtai) 
and a military officer at Lhari, with 130 soldiers; a 
commissary and four military officers at Lhasa, with 
500 men; a commissary and six officers at Jikatse, with 
700 men; and an officer, with a few soldiers, at Tingeh, 
on the road between Jikatse and Nepal The troops 
are kept up by the Scchucn treasury; the commissaries 
arc appointed by the viceroy of that province; it is 
their business to pay the troops and to fulfil the 
functions of consuls, that is to say, they adjust the 
differences between the Chinese merchants and between 
the latter and the Tibetans* 

The Imperial Legate alone is qualified to conduct 

the foreign affairs of Tibet, although he has to consult 

the local ^authorities. In the interior, no official, no 

*sihbot of a great monastery is appointed without his 

approval; he has practically the last word in the 



352 afbet 

election of the Viceroy ; he has the right to control the 
public finances- Moreover, he is the equal in dignity 
of the Gyatsab and, consequently, superior to the 
ministers, who have only the rank of laotai (third rank, 
pale-blue button), and to all the officials, who, in principle, 
owe him absolute obedience. But his authority is 
accepted and respected only on condition that he does 
not make it felt too severely. He has ulag rights 
over all Tibet and, like all Tibetan officials, receives, 
by way of allowance, a certain number of cantons, 
in which he levies taxes and exercises all the rights of 
sovereignty. In this way, the canton of Dam and part 
of the country north of the Damlurkang La are within 
the jurisdiction of the Imperial Legate, In Tibet, as 
in Mongolia, the Court of Peking remembers to grunt 
salaries to the chief pcrsSnugcs : this is a sign of 
sovereignty as well as a means of action ;' :< a feeble one, 
it is true : the Dalai Lama himself and the Viceroy 
receive a certain sum under this head ; the ministers* 
receive ^30 a year each, with four pieces of satin, and 
the convents, in the aggregate, about ^12,000. 

The Chinese do not seek here, any more than in 
Turkestan, to profit by the economic resources of the 
country. They do a certain amount of trade and, as 
in Turkestan, have kept the tea-monopoly for them- 
selves ; but they have done nothing to improve the 
means of communication, to perfect agriculture, to 
develop the pastoral industry, which ought to be able 
to supply the whole of South Aia with wool, or to 
exploit the different mines in which the subsoil seems 

* The dependence of Lhuga on Peking is, for that matter, marked in 
a more formal manner. The new Diilai Lama cho*cn by lot muttt receive 
tav<stitur<! from the Emperor, who J# free to withhold it. The Vteefoy 
hold* his flcul at the Emperor's pletimire ; the kalona are furnished with 
imperial patents ; the imperial edictH are valid in Tibet, *lm condition* 
that the local authorities countersign them, which they cannot refunts 
to do. 



Tttbet 353 

to be very rich. Chinese goods are admitted only on 
payment of a piece of silver per package ; the Chinese 
merchants are not allowed to live in the country nor 
to enter it for the purposes of trade, unless supplied 
with a* ticket from the Sechuen administration, which 
is valid only for a year : at the end of that period, they 
have to go. As for the Chinese women, all of them, 
even the wives of functionaries and officers actually 
serving in Tibet, are absolutely forbidden to set foot 
in the country. And so, whereas, in Turkestan, you 
find at least a small number of Chinese colonists, you 
do not see a single child of the Middle Kingdom in 
Tibet. These measures may be ascribed to a sense of 
prudence on the part of the Peking government, which 
prefers to avoid difficulties and unpleasant businesses, 
and to the national want <jf tolerance of the Tibetans, 
who refuse to suffer strangers within their gates. The 
monks, those representatives of a religion which was 
able to pass for a religion of universal brotherhood, 
open their convents and grant orders only to Tibetans, 
the sons of Tibetan fathers. 

The economic and colonial points of view are quite 
secondary matters for the Chinese ; it was, above all, for 
strategic and political reasons that they annexed these 
marches of Tibet, so that they might serve them for a 
barrier against independent and encroaching neighbours, 
According to the principles which I have set forth in 
connection with Turkestan, 1 " it appeared to them that the 
best way for them to hold the country easily and cheaply 
was to prevent strangers from entering it and thus to 
deprive them of any temptation to concoct intrigues 
with the malcontents, under pretext of opening up 
commercial relations, and excite the people to rise in 
rebellion* The question has sometimes been mooted 
whether It is the Tibetans who wish to close their door 



*' A Hdentlti a0a{. 

23 



354 ttibet 

or the Chinese who force them to close it This is an 
idle question. The Chinese and the Tibetans sometimes 
quarrel with each other, but they are quite at one against 
the foreigners. The lamas, jealous of holding undivided 
sway over the people that feeds them, fear lesfc new 
ideas should enter together with the foreigners, lest the 
simplicity of their dependants' hearts should be impaired 
and their numbers decreased. They well know and 
the example of Ladak is there to remind them that, if 
another Power than China should take possession of 
Tibet, it would not fail, with the complicity of the laity, 
to cut down the prerogatives and the exorbitant profits 
of the monasteries : hence, to whatever order they 
belong, they feel it to be to their interest to keep the 
foreigners at a distance, to checkmate their pretensions 
as far us possible and to mgke common cause, in this 
respect, with the Chinese government. Taking advant- 
age of the unbounded credulity of their flocks, there is 
no absurd legend that they do not sanction with regard 
to the Europeans, those sinister wizards who are coming 
to rob Tibet of its protecting gods and to deliver it as 
a prey to all the devils of the abyss let loose. 

However, the government of Lhasa is unable to 
close the gates of its territory hermetically : it is needs 
obliged to admit, under close supervision, those natives 
of India to whom their common religion, or old custom, 
or a regular treaty gives the right of travelling and trad- 
ing in the country. Notwithstanding irksome obstacles, 
the trade between India and* Tibet is fairly active: 
Kashmirian, Nepalese and Hindu merchants live in the 
principal towns, at least provisionally ; the Moslems of 
Western India have built a mosque in the shadow of the 
acred mountain. Through their subjects, merchants, 
pilgrims and bandits, who move secretly about Tibet, the 
English are perfectly well-informed of all thUt occurs 
among their auspicious neighbours : of the religious 



zrtbet 355 

dissidcnces, of the restless factions, of what they may 
hope to expect. The geography of the country is well 
enough known to them to enable them, in case of 
needj to dispatch a military expedition into the country, 
the present maps being no worse than those which we 
used to conquer Tongking. Certain signs warrant 
one in believing that English money has been dis- 
tributed among influential persons in Tibet to pay for 
actual or virtual services of a political order. But the 
system of isolation of the Tibetans has, none the less, 
the double advantage of fostering the distrust and 
prejudice of the people against the Europeans and 
turning it into a vigilant guardian, like a chained watch- 
dog, and) besides, of preventing the English from freely 
organising and supporting a party of their own, around 
which the malcontents ami seekers after novelty would 
be able to range themselves* 

Up to the present, the English have displayed 
little enterprise or decision in their attempts to end 
this state of things. The last important event was the 
conquest of Sikkim, which they achieved in 1888 
and which was confirmed by the treaty of 1890. This 
conquest gave them the whole sky-line of the first 
range of the Himalayas, except, however, the little 
valley of Chumbi, to obtain which they made fruitless 
efforts. This valley being the key of the best road 
leading from Lhasa to Calcutta, the Tibetans attach great 
importance to its retention. 

When, in 1893, wc arrived on the shores of the 
Nam Cho, the English and the Tibetans were just 
engaged in discussing, at Durjeeling, the terms of a 
commercial treaty; and this coincidence caused us some 
difficulty. The Indian government demanded that the 
road frpm Darjccling to Lhasa through the Chumbi 
Valley should be thrown open to trade and the Tibetans 
opposed this with all their might* Troops were brought 



356 

up and we heard that they were ready to close with one 
another. Finally, everything was arranged and, on the 
5th of December, a treaty was concluded between the 
Chinese and the English stipulating that a market sijould 
be established in the Chumbi Valley, seven miles beyond 
the Jilep Pass, which marks the frontier. The Indian 
merchants were authorised to go to this market and 
there to trade under certain conditions. The English 
thought, perhaps, that, by establishing the market at 
Yatung, they were at least opening a garret-window into, 
Tibet ; but the Tibetans took care to put ground-glass 
panes to it. This Yatung is an absolutely deserted place, 
with not a man in it nor a house, The Chinese, it is 
true, undertook to put up the necessary buildings ; 
the promise may be taken for what it is worth ; 
"///*/ A? fan hllki qifn Lti*C/Mtre!" as Ninon do 
I'Knclos said on a famous occasion* The sale ot 
Indian tea being prohibited for five years, there is no 
hope, in any case, of doing much business on this 
market ; but the English, no doubt, think that, if no 
goods are exchanged, there will, at least, be an ex- 
change of blows, which would permit them to send a 
few Sepoys to restore order.' 1 

If England has succeeded in chipping the frontier of 
Tibet, she has lost the faculty which she enjoyed in the 
eighteenth century of keeping up agents there* In 1772, 
the chief lama of Tachilhunpo having written to Warren 
Hastings to ask him to withdraw the British troops 
from Bhotan, Hastings acceded to his request and Kent 
Bogle to him as an ambassador, who was exceed- 
ingly well received. In 1782, the Pangchen Rinpocheh 
having meanwhile died* his successor received the con- 
gratulations of Warren Hastings through the medium of 
Captain Turner, After him, a Hindu, Purungir^Gosaify 
remained at Tachilhunpo as^the permanent agent of the 

* In reality, thi treaty haw mwrtJ* bi&u iuittUcd (Notu o/ 



IKbet 357 

Viceroy of India and was even received at Lhasa, In 
1792, Warren Hastings* successor, instead of assisting 
the Tibetans against the Nepalese, who had invaded 
Tibet, took the part of the Nepalese against the Chinese, 
who had sent an army to drive out the invaders. From 
that time, the Tibetans ceased to have friendly relations 
with the English and coalesced against them with the 
Chinese, We must not, however, attach greater value 
to this fact than it deserves: the Indian government had 
had relations of an intimate character only with the chief 
lama of Tachilhunpo, whose political importance is very 
insignificant ; since then, there has been no absolute 
rupture, the Pangchen Rinpocheh is not in the main 
hostile to the English and there is reason to believe that, 
if the matter depended only on himself, he would be 
glad enough to receive their visit. 

The Dalai Lama, on the contrary, has always shown 
grcut reserve, although things were not so bad at first as 
they are to-day. In 1810, Thomas Manning, who, it is 
true, bore no official character, was admitted into the 
presence of the Dalai Lama at Lhasa and remained in 
the capital for a year, No European hzis been so far 
since, except Pere Hue, who was soon expelled. 
Alarmed at the immense and continuous progress of the 
Imlo-British power, the Tibetans have sat lurking in 
their kir, have barricaded the entrance and refuse to lot 
the foreigner establish a footing, lest he should soon 
establish more* I believe that China and Tibet are so 
firmly convinced of the necessity of keeping their door 
closed that they would risk a war rather than give way 
on this point Now, whatever interest England may 
have in keeping up untrammelled relations with Tibet, 
not only would she never undertake a war to end the 
itfolatiqp in which that country confines itself, but she is 
not even anxious to embark upon a serious diplomatic 
campaign with this object, As a matter of fact, Tibet, 



358 ftibet 

so soon as it had become accessible to the English, 
would, at the same moment, become accessible to the 
Russians, who could thus easily push their intrigues 
as far as the Indian frontier ; and England, whc^ can 
never be sure of the loyalty of the numberless popula- 
tions of India, considers Russia's intrigues to be more 
dangerous than her arms. 

I am therefore of opinion that Tibet will never be 
open to Europeans until it is under British protection* 
The Indian government is in not so great a hurry to 
extend its territory in the direction of Tibet as in 
that of Afghanistan, because it has not, on that side, 
to fear the progress of so ambitious ami formidable a 
Power as Russia. It has, I know, up to the present, 
been a fundamental axiom of Indian policy to keep 
China as far as possible ; hut China has only just 
enough power in Tibet to prevent herself from being 
driven out by the natives : she is not capable of taking 
the offensive and asks only to In* left in peace and to 
leave her neighbours in peace in their turn. Only, 
should the day come when Kngliuui would be unable to 
defend Turkestan against Russian conquest, then it would 
seem to her necessary to enforce her protectorate on 
Tibet, not only by way of compensation, but especially 
in order to establish on her northern frontier a Ixmler- 
state similar to that of Afghanistan and serving to 
keep at arm's length a disagreeable aiul dangerous 
neighbour. This is the same object which she 
pursues on every side of the Indian frontier ; and, 
when she has attained it, she will be furnishedwhat 
with Afghanistan, a portion of the Pamirs, Ludak 
extended to the edge of the Desert of Gobi, Tibet unit 
Burmah with a colossal buffer of mountains, behind 
which she will at last enjoy her repose in her garden, 
sheltered from the storms that sweep the desert and 
feeling only the soft and refreshing iwc/ea that Wow 



Tttbet 359 

from her seas. It is a glorious and charming dream, 
similar to that which China had, but not beyond 
realising, nor absurd, 

One sometimes hears it said that their pro- 
tectorate over Afghanistan is more embarrassing than 
profitable to the English and this would be all the 
more so in the case of a protectorate over Tibet. 
This opinion does not seem to me to be inspired 
by a sound acquaintance with Asiatic things. The 
^Calcutta government is ambitious, but it has a clear 
and accurate view of the conditions under which it can 
exist and expand* History is there to teach it that a 
powerful and warlike enemy, having the upper hand 
in Afghanistan, would soon be master of the basin of 
the Indus and the plain of the Ganges, To this the 
examples of the Glmnevids, of Sultan Baber and of 
Ahmed Shah bear evidence. Now the case is exactly 
the same with Tibet, So soon as the English have 
reason to fear that the influence of so dangerous a 
Power as Russia will make way in that country, 
they will bo driven to establish their protectorate 
over it. Let the Cossacks enter Kashgur and Khotan 
and the Sepoys will enter Tachilhunpo and Lhasa. 
These two eventualities will depend strictly upon one 
another-* 

* I make no alteration in my text of ityH. Since then* the Indiun 
{government has been led to interfere in Tibet by the miH#tvm#H which it 
hit* felt ut the attempts* made by Kututht to entabtinh relation* with the 
Dtttai I/anm. 

A chief tumtt of LhaHU, Agouti E)ordjiiiIT, ti Burial and u Rumtian 
nubjeet by birth, went to St. Peternburtf In 1900 and njoi and w*m officially 
received by the Kmperor, The Kutwiiui government, on it* Hide, tent 
M, Twybikoff, a Uurlat, ft graduate of the faculty of oriental language* 
of St, Peteraburg, on u minwion to Umtia, where lie rcmttineU during 
tttmoHt the whole of 1901, The TibiJtnna, cloning their dotr to all the 
world jtMfce, by that very fact t'ouHtitiited thcmclvc this voluntary 
proti^tom of the northern frontier of India and it WH to Uftgliittd'* 
intereht to reujiect their i notation. As they now however, ceued to play 



360 tribet 

There is another matter : Tibet would be for England 
an excellent position from which to defend against the 
attacks of any other nation that basin of the Blue River, 
or Yangtzekiang, of which she is so jealous and to k;eep it 
dependent upon her from at least the economic pomt of 
view. If China should show herself definitely unfit to 
resist both the enemies that beset her on every side and 
the internal troubles that gnaw at her vitals, if the 
advance of "Russia towards Mongolia and the northern 
provinces should come to threaten the basin of the great* 
river, the English will feel the necessity, to protect their 
interests, of spreading to the gates of Sechuen and, by 
occupying the Tibetan citadel, of obtaining a strong hold 
on land of the stream which their naval power would 
not be great enough to guard, 

China is quite aware of* the precarious nature of 
her dominion over the kingdom of Lhasa, which is 
threatened by the Knglish, on the one side, and com- 
promised, on the other, by the lamas, who suffer her 
cmly for fear of falling into a yet worse evil. She 
seeks to remedy this situation not by taking action at 
Lhasa and endeavouring to substitute her direct govern- 
ment for her protectorate, which would be too difficult 
and dangerous, but by gradually reducing the extent of 
the country subject to the authority of the Dalai Lama> 
by stripping it, whenever the occasion offers, of some 
morsel of territory, by eating the artichoke leaf by leaf. 
She would be quite content to leave tin: Tibetans in 

that part, it suited the liritwh government in nt-ck to maku it* influence 
paramount in their country. The object HUH remained the name; 
circumsttuiccK und the means* employed huv ttltcrtftl. 

Ruttftta, separated from Lhuan by ifttmy thmmund miles of ttautrt 
utid of partly irmtpcrable mountains, IB IntUly ituatu4 to offer opptmitittn 
to tho ttction <rf the Knglmh. Moreover, tthe can affurdl to ftUvui aloof, 
IKCWUC Buddhitmi in of but very little fxrfiticul importune^ while th* 
infiucmi* of th Dalai lHmtt, which watt crettt&S by the ciJll power, 
cun bit by It destroyed, reduced ttr trun^fcrrcd to other incwrnktiotn of 
Buddha (Note of 1904;. 



{Tibet 361 

peace ; but a powerful and rebellious Tibet does not 
answer her purpose. 

In previous centuries, the struggles between the 
clergyand the civil power were an excellent means of 
weakening Tibet and, when the Emperor decided to 
intervene in favour of the representatives of religion 
and to restore the government to them, he took care to 
keep a good slice for himself: the portions in the east 
and north-east now administered directly by the Viceroys 
*>f Sechuen and Kansu; so that, if the kingdom of Lhasa 
rume to be destroyed by a national revolt or by foreign 
amc}uc5it, there would still remain a belt of land to serve 
as s protection to China proper* The successors of 
Kienlong followed this policy of successive and almost 
imperceptible encroachments with the continuity of view 
and the tenacity that chsfracteme Chinese diplomacy. 
They took advantage of the now latent, now active 
rivalries between the native princes, the chief lamas, the 
different sects, as so many constant pretexts for inter- 
ference ; and, so soon as a landed magnate put forward 
a violent claim to his independence and showed himself 
strong enough to maintain it, they explained to the Lhasa 
government that it did very wrong to undertake to keep 
HO turbulent a vassal in order ami that it would be worth 
much to its peace of mind to shift the burden to China's 
stronger shoulders. 

Tne Dcbajong>on its side, made use of every circum- 
stance to try to recover the land that had been snatched 
from it ; and this led to conflicts that were incessantly 
renewed. The terrible reverses which China experienced 
after 1860, the Taiping Rebellion, the revolt of the 
Moslems of Turkestan, Kansu and Yunnan gave Lhasa 
it opportunity. In 1863, a war having broken out 
bctwecnJMcnyag and Dergyeh, the Debajonjg interfered 
in favour of the latter, upon which it imposed its 
protectorate, and annexed Menyag in 1866, 



362 

The general of the Dcbajong, a certain Punropa, 
governed the country for ten years and ground it 
down, without pity, to provide for the barbaric luxuries 
with which he surrounded himself. An able politician, 
he had succeeded in preparing for the annexation flf the 
neighbouring countries of Litung and Butang and had 
already made secret conventions with the chiefs of those 
two territories. But the inhabitants had complained to 
Lhasa of the exactions to which they were subjected 
and jealousy of the ambitious general's power and 
success-es caused their complaints to fall upon willing 
ears* Punropa was recalled, on the understanding 
that he would be made a minister, but he had hardly 
returned to the capital, when he died, suddenly, in 
December 1877; a few weeks after, his son, his 
daughter and nil his relation* disappeared ; and to-day 
there is not u single member of his family living. 
Pergyeh took advantage of Punropjfs departure to 
recover its independence; in 1890, Menyag, in its 
turn, at the instigation of the Chinese, rose in rebellion 
and drove out the Lhasa functionaries, 

In 1887, the Dcbajong intervened in the country 
of the Hor Kangsar ; in 1894^ it entered upon a 
conflict with the people of Surmang, whom it laid claim 
to submit to ulug ; but, in both cases, its intrigues were 
baffled by Chinese diplomacy. The Chinese, having got 
rid of the Moslems, had regained the upper hand in 
Tibet : Rtbocheh and the Hortsi country were detached 
from Lhasa in 1886, the chief lamas of Jaya and Chitmdo 
received authority to send periodical embassies to Lhasa 
in the same way as the Dalai Lama and the Pangchen 
Rinpocheh and their independence towards the Debajong 
was recognised. At the moment of writing, I hear that 
a Chinese prefect has been installed in Men/ftp* 

Chinese power does not make all thin p*ogrc^ 
without encountering .serious obstacles on the part of 



ttibet 3C3 

the local chiefs as well as of Lhasa, Although the name 
of the Emperor still carries great weight in those 
countries and the chiefs prefer the mild and almost 
imperceptible suzerainty of Peking to the harsher and 
more mperious sway of Lhasa, nevertheless the efforts 
made by the Chinese to restrain the jurisdiction of the 
Dcbajong have not been free of disadvantages to them- 
selves. They stirred up feelings of independence in the 
princes near their frontier and urged them to revolt 
appinsf Lhasa in order to make them subject to their 
, direct authority ; but those princes did not shake off 
one yoke to pass tamely under another and the Chinese 
felt the difficulty of submitting to their law those whom 
they had encouraged to throw off discipline. The 
native chiefs reduced their obligations to a minimum ; 
some even refused to make any act of submission. 
The Prince of Dergyeh allows no Chinese traders to 
live in his territory and does not let them travel on 
Ihe high-road except on payment. The seventeen other 
Tibetan States of Sechucn Chagla (containing Tasienlu), 
Litang, Batting, on the Chando road, Mili 7 south of that 
road, Menyag, the five Horpa clans, Toskyah, Somo, 
etc., in the north although they have long been direct 
vassals of Chmu, give the Viceroy great trouble in 
making them respect the small authority to which he 
lays claim* The Chinese are installed seriously only 
at Tasienlu ; on the Jyerkundo road> they have only 
three little posts of twenty men, of which the farthest 
and the most considerable U that of Her Kangsar, near 
the Za Chu. Of their recent occupation of Menyag 
5t is impossible to aay anything as yet. 

Apart from the Tibetan States that are directly 
subject to the Viceroy of Sechuen, there are two other 
classes ttyc are dependent on the Imperial legates of 
Lhau and Siniug respectively. The Imperial Legate of 
Lhana is empowered to exercise the Chinese protectorate, 



36* fttbet 

not only over the possessions of the Dalai Lama, but 
also on all the independent countries enclaved within 
them Tachilhunpo, Saskya Gompa, Poyul and .all 
the outlying countries that have been detache^I from 
them subsequently to Kienlong's conquest, ftamcly, 
the principality or the Hortsi, Ribocheh, Chamdo and 
Jaya. The boundaries of the Imperial Legate's influence 
are formed, on the north, by the Tang La and Dumtao 
La Passes, by the mountains that separate the basin of 
the Nu Chu from that of the Pam Chu, by a line crossing 
the Pam Chu and the Za Chu, or Mekong, at about Lat 
31 40*. Then the frontier reaches the valley of the 
Blue River, goes down it to about Lat, 29^ 30', from 
there turns into the valley of the Mekong and follows it 
until about Lat, 27. The Chinese keep a small garrison 
at Kiangku, under the order* of a captain, and another at 
Chamdo, under the orders of a colonel ; but they are 
not even represented in Ribocheh or in the Hortsi 
country. This latter country, which lies between th<f 
Tatsang La and the Damtuo La, comprises the basins of 
the Chug Chu and the Sog Chu ; south of the Tatsang 
La, the little valley of Duglong also forms part of it* 
The majority of the population are Ponbos and thin was 
the cause of its separation from Lhasa* All the Tibetans 
living on the road from Nagchu to Jyerkundo within 
the limits specified, the Ataka, the Horpongntma, 
the Sogdcma, the Kengkicma, are, without exception, 
dissenters* This is the case also with their chief, who 
bears the title of Hortsi Gyabpcko, is a layman and 
lives in a tent like all his subjects. Hi* residence is at 
Pachen, two days below Wabeh Sumdo on a little affluent 
running into the Sog Chu on the left* It may be remarked 
of the Tibetan chiefs that, like the Mongolian chiefs, they 
do not care to instal themselves on the hjgh-roaids, 
beside the big rivers, or in the plains ; they generally 
resort to remote places, difficult of access, near the 



tHbet 365 

sources of the rivers. Three days below Pachen, in the 
Sog Chu Valley, stands the monastery of Sogzendeh, 
wHpse lamas are independent of the Hortsi Gyabpeko. 
The latter's dominion extends, from west to east, be- 
tween the great eastern tributary of the Nag Cho to 
Bumundo. He has a number of tribal chiefs or debas 
under his orders and receives a small allowance from the 
Emperor of China. The kinglet, whose country is 
poor and sparsely peopled and who wears a simple 
sheepskin gown, seems to be fairly well obeyed ; he 
levies on each family and each head of cattle a very light 
tax, of which the Imperial Legate takes a share. The 
latter has no agent in the country, but, from time to 
time, sends an officer to Pachen to receive the prince's 
homage and tribute. 

The third part of Tibet subject to China lies within 
the jurisdiction of the Imperial Legate of Sining, who 
himself is dependent upon the Viceroy of Kansu. 
This jurisdiction is bounded by that of the Imperial 
Legate of Lhasa as far as the sources of the Dergyeh 
Chu ; next, the frontier goes up to the north-east, crosses 
the Do Chu at 60 miles to the south-east of Jyerkumlo, 
runs to the north of Dcrgyeh and the Hprpa country, 
crosses thcTa Kinchuen at Lut, 32 and, in the north- 
east, joins the frontier of Kansu proper, following the 
watershed between the Hoangho and the River Min. 
Within these boundaries arc contained the States of 
the Nanchcn Gyapo, the four tribes of the Zachukkapa, 
the States of tnc King of the Goloks, the Gomi and 
Panak tribes and, lastly, the district of Ngamdo. The 
Nanchen Gyapo, a lay king, resides at Pam Jong, on 
the Pam Chu, north of Rtbochch, The whole region 
from the Damtao La to the frontier of Mongolian 
TVaidam ^nd to the boundaries of the Do Chu basin 

placed under hi* suzerainty. The Tibetans speak 
of aim as a venerable person, but ulso an a poor fellow 



366 ZEtbCt 

who is led by the nose by the lamas. For that matter, 
in all the principalities of Eastern Tibet, the lamas 
either are the nominal and real masters or else jure 
completely independent of the civil power and exercise 
a considerable influence over it The King of itisienlu 
is the only one who has authority over the clergy of his 
States, for which reason he is surrounded, in the eyes 
of the Tibetans, with a formidable and mysterious 
majesty, no less than the petty King of Ladak, with 
whom nobody in the world is fit to be compared, unUss 
it be the Emperor of China in person. The power 
of the Nanchen Gyapo is effective only in the Pam 
Chu Valley, in the immediate neighbourhood of his 
residence, Elsewhere, the tribal chiefs, more or 
less encouraged by the Chinese, render him little 
more than a platonic homage. The tribes known 
to rnc arc the Dungpa, the Gejis, the Rakis, the 
Taorongpa and the Nyamcho. The Dungpa extend 
from the Damtao La to the source of the Mekongf 
Their chief h encamped at Damsarchawo, near the 
source of the Dam Chu, three days to the east of the 
road, The Gejis, who are more numerous and consist 
of 3,000 laymen and 500 lamas, are distributed over 
the upper basin of the Mekong, between the Zanak La 
and the Zeh I A. Their chief is encamped at Zamar- 
sang The Rakis run from the Zeh l& to the Serkyem 
La* The Taorongpa, a much superior tribe to the 
foregoing, are bounded by the Serkyem La, the Tao La, 
twenty miles south-east of Jyerkundo, and the water- 
shed between the Do Chu and the Zachu Golok. Their 
not very large country is comparatively thickly populated 
and covered with numerous villages; and they are the 
only one of all the tribes which I have named that occupies 
itself with agriculture* They are divided inty twenty- 
five clans, each commanded by a lay chief; it wouicf 
not appear that they have a general chief and their 



ttfbet 367 

common affairs are settled in the assembly of the chiefs 
of clans. In reality, the Saskyapa abbot of Jyergu 
Gompa is the veritable master and the chiefs of clans 
are, in fact, no more than his agents. He has 3,000 
monks* in his obedience, distributed over various con- 
vents, each owning large properties and having rights 
of high and low justice over the surrounding cantons. 
The only parts of the country that escape his authority 
arc the lands and villages belonging to the rare Gelugpa 
rponasteries, which have the abbot of Labug at their 
head and do not number more than 800 monks. To 
the north of the Taorongpa are the Nyamcho, who 
themselves border upon the Mongols of Tsaidam, 

In the east, the region of the Upper Za Chu, which 
is fairly populous and contains crops and villages except 
in the part which 1 traveled through, is independent 
both by right and in fact of the Nanchen Gyapo. It is 
divided into four cantons, administered by four native 
'chiefs, whose head is the superior of Tubchi Gompa, 
Next come the superior of Kanar Gompa, the lay chief 
of Yongka and the lay chief of Chuma. The people 
of this country are distinguished at first sight by their 
tihorn heads from the long - haired subjects of the 
Nanchen Gyapo, Also, they carry longer lances, measur- 
ing about 1 1 J feet. These points make them resemble 
their neighbours the Goloks, to whom they arc closely 
related by kindred. They arc particularly turbulent 
ami, if they are a little more cautious in their robberies 
than the Goloks, this is only because they live in houses 
and are more exposed to reprisals. 

If the subjects of the Nanchen Gyapo give the people 
of Zachukka a bad name, this does not mean to say that 
they are much better themselves. Private property is 
but little respected among them ; one often meets small 
'caravans *of Tibetans or Chinese that have had their 
horses stolen by the natives ; and the people of Lhasa 



368 Uibet 

never travel that way except in numbers and well-armed. 
As for the cantonal chiefs, for the most part lamas 
perched in their lamaseries as in sparrow-hawks' nests, 
it is not uncommon for them to be parties to the pillage 
and to justify it by invoking the law of reprisal In 
fact, everybody, afraid of being robbed by his neighbour, 
indemnifies himself as and when he may, often enough 
beforehand, and pays himself by theft for the losses 
which he has suffered or may suffer in the future. The 
Kirghiz system of the banimta is practised everywhere. 
When an individual has occasion to complain of a theft, 
a murder, a rape, an outrage of any sort, on the part of 
an individual of another clan, instead of running off to 
his solicitor, he appeals to his own clan, which takes up 
arms and goes off to plunder the herds of the clan to 
which the culprit belongs- ^This is the Tibetan way of 
serving a writ of caution* Struggles ensue, not always 
unattended with bloodshed ; prisoners are taken and 
often drowned ; and, from reprisals to reprisals, the, 
quarrel can be indefinitely prolonged. It is very difficult 
to settle it definitive peace that wipes out all the wrongs 
done and suffered on both sides. 

The Goloks/ generally called Sifans by the Chinese, 
are masters of the whole region lying between the 
Kyaring Cho and the watershed between the Ma Chu 
and Min rivers ; they extend aouth to Lat 32 and are 
bounded by Dergyeh and the Horpa clans. They arc 
divided into twelve tribes, of which that of the Kengens 
is the most important. Their king, who bears the title 
of Archungnurlm Gyapo, resides in the Ma Chu valley, 
to the south of the mighty chain of the Amnyeh Machem 
They are equipped and dressed in the same manner as 
the Zachukkapa : sheepskin garments, long lances, short 



* From Oa (n^o), face, ami fof, crooked, that IB to *ay r<$cl. 
chedfrr, to pull a crooked face, is a currant phrase meaning to rite in 
rebtilion, 



Uibet 369 

hair, flat, round caps fitting close to the head at the back 
and forming a kind of peak in front. They have no 
houses and live in tents, the lamas and the king as well 
as the rest. The clergy seems to occupy an inferior 
positirti among them, although it is fairly numerous and 
not devoid of influence* The Goloks arc absolutely 
independent of China, both nominally and in reality. 
They form a regularly-organised society of brigands. 
Every summer, they fit out one or more expeditions of 
300 to 1,000 horsemen, who ride mostly in the direction 
of Lhasa, carry off herds of cattle, women and children 
and plunder the caravans of merchants. These expe- 
ditions are commanded by the chiefs of tribes, with the 
consent of the king, who receives a percentage of the pro- 
ceeds. They sometimes penetrate within sight of Nagchu 
Jong and pursue their end% until well within Mongolia, 
The people of Tsaidam fear them greatly : Naichi, whose 
pasture-lands were formerly frequented by the Mongols, 
has had to be abandoned because of the repeated inroads 
of the Goloks. A void has been made all around the 
country of those bandits ; large and rich pastures arc 
to-day deserted, none daring to venture there and put 
his head in the lion's mouth : although they never pitch 
their tents nor drive their herds beyond the Amnyeh 
Machen Mountains, they permit nobody to settle there 
or even to pass between these mountains and Lake 
Kyaring. This is not the policy of the dog in the 
manger : it is a mere variant of Protection. The 
Goloks, in so acting, confer upon themselves, by virtue 
of the right of the strongest, the monopoly of working 
the salt of the Kyaring Cho ; and this monopoly is a 
very profitable one, for a large part of Eastern Tibet 
has no salt : the whole country between the Tatsang 
La and Jyerkundo is without it and the poorer natives 
Use salt fed earth instead. The Goloks therefore sell 
their salt at their own price to the Zachukkapa and to 

24 



Ufbet 371 

money which the Emperor sends for the maintenance of 
the troops. 

There remains but little for me to say of the 
Panaks, who live on the shores of the Koko Nor, 
to tjre south, east and north, the western margin 
being occupied by Mongols. They wear their hair 
short like the Goloks and are distinguished from the 
other Tibetan nomads by their round, peaked caps 
and their blue trousers of Chinese cotton-cloth. I 
have already pointed out the peculiarities of their 
physical type, which indicate an admixture of the 
neighbouring Mongolian element. Like the Mongols, 
they always guard their herds on horseback, which 
is the habit of the people of the plains or of wide fiat 
valleys. Their tents are similar to those of the other 
Tibetans, except that they jre larger, measuring as much 
as 50 feet by 30. The stone stove is also a little 
different in appearance. Some of the Panaks have white, 
round felt tents like those of the Mongols, but this 
is an exception. The Panaks seem to have but few 
relations with their Tibetan congeners of the south, from 
whom they are separated by many days' march, and 
they would hardly know them, if they did not go on 
pilgrimage to Lhasa and if they did not see a few 
caravans from Lhasa and Jycrkundo pass their way. 
This fact at once becomes evident to the traveller 
through the disappearance of the rupee, which is replaced 
by Chinese money* The Panaks arc known inTsaidam 
and at Tongkor and Sining as incorrigible thieves, 
though they struck me as decent people enough: they 
ure only pilferers and not brigands like the Goloks 
They have no king, but only cniefs of clans ; they are 
more nearly subjected to the Imperial Legate of Sming 
than the other Tibetans and pay him annual taxes, 

it if safe to say that the authority of China is not 
firmly felt btyond Tsaidam, the chain south of the Koko 



372 tibct 

Nor, the country of the Gomis and that of Lhabrang 
Gompa, The Goloks do not trouble about the Imperial 
Legate, except to rob his agents on occasion, and the 
Imperial Legate, on his side, pretends to ignore them! 
Fn the vast region that stretches between Tsarijlam, 
Chambo and the Damtsto La, he has only two representa- 
tives at Jyerkundo, mere interpreters of his yamen, 
knowing the Tibetan language. These modest agents 
employ their abilities as best they can in persuading 
the petty local chiefs to keep the peace and their 
mediation sometimes has good results ; but thtff 
mediation is of the platonic order, for they have 
no serious means of compelling respect of their 
authority, beyond a thivut of Chint-w intervention, 
'nicy have no escort, but only a few dorghiis, or 
native policemen, similar to the aptuks of Lhasa. 
The few Chinese merchants who trade in the country 
are allowed to reside only at Jyt'rkumio ami, although 
thi^ village is subject to Kiinsu, they have to be 
furnished with letters from the administration of 
Sechucn, The Imperial Legate i^ur-i letter* only 
for the immediate neighbourhood of the Koko Nor 
and for Tsaidam ; and these letters are valid only 
for forty days, which prevents the holders from 
going as far as Jycrkundo. The only reason for thin 
measure is to preserve for the Sechuen administration 
the whole profit from the Tibetan trade*, part of which 
passes through Jyerkundo. The fiscal obligations of 
the inhabitants of this district towards the Chinese 
government are limited to the payment of u tax of 
one-eighth of an ounce of silver, suy cmi'-third of a rupee, 
per hearth and per annum* to the maintenance of the 
two interpreters and their durghas and to the free supply 
of the animals, straw and fuel which they need for 
their movements, The Imperial Legate ncvei* appears 
in the countries which he is ordered to administer) 



373 

he tftinks, very justly, that his majesty gains by not 
being seen close at hand. Only 3 every three years or* 
perhaps, every year, he goes in great state to the first 
pass affording a view of the Koko Nor and makes his 
offerings and prayers to the divinity of the Iake 3 \vhOj 
in return, assures to him the possession of the whole 
country under the divinity's protection. Moreover,, 
every three ycars s he sends to Jyerkundo a Chinese 
official having the rank of a prefect, in order to receive 
the solemn homage of all the assembled chiefs. This 
is the same ceremony that was observed in the sixth 
century and doubtless earlier still* In truth^ the 
Tibetans are one of the nations that have changed 
least in the course of the centuries and it is greatly 
to be regretted that they are so difficult of access and 
so obstinately opposed to enquiries. 



THE END 



I'iUN'TKl) BY A, r, I'OWLNIl, 
ftlOOHFIltfiDH AND 
HltUUK.mTt'H,