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SI HP'S LIBRARY.

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TIBET AND
TURKESTAN

A JOURNEY THROUGH OLD LANDS

AND A STUDY OF NEW

CONDITIONS

OSCAR TERRY CROSBY, F.R.G.S.

ILLUSTRATED

ROBERTA SARAH TWYFO!
MEMORIAL PUBLIC LIBRA
PARKSLEY, VA,

G. P, PUTNAM'S SONS

NEW YORK AND LONDON

Cbe ftnlcRerbocRer prces

«9°5

■v

OSCAR TERRY CROSBY

tTbc imkfcerbodfcer pr«M, Hew port

PREFACE

THE reader need not fear that he is here invited
to traverse the weary marches of a traveller's
diary. In the following pages, incidents have been
subordinated to the things suggested by them.

The journey herein recounted was made in the lat-
ter half of the year 1903. As I have many otherduties
in life than those of travel and writing, the prepara-
tion of this book has been of fitful and slow process.

Although originally undertaking the expedition
alone, it was by happy chance that I met in Tiflis
Captain Fernand Anginieur of the French Army,
who became a companion for the journey and a
friend for life. He shared with me the responsibili-
ties of every kind that were to be met after a tele-
graphed authorisation from his War Minister per-
mitted him definitely to cast his lot with mine.

I wish more of my compatriots could meet and
know such Frenchmen as are typified in Anginieur.
"Brilliant but superficial and frivolous" is a hasty
judgment which one often hears from English-
speaking critics of the French. "Brilliant, loyal,
and earnest'* — such is the type whom one finds in
making the acquaintance of my friend Anginieur,

As to the route followed by us: starting at the
Caspian Sea, we went by rail eastward through Rus-
sian Turkestan to Andijan ; thence by caravan, over
the Trans-Alai Mountains t& Kashgar in Chinese

Preface

Turkestan ; thence skirting the Taklamakan desert,
through Yarkand and Khotan to Polu, a village on
the slopes of the Kuen Lun Mountains; thence up
to the Tibetan plateau, whose north-west corner we
explored, passing through the unknown region called
Aksai Chin ; thence out through Ladak and Kashmir
to Rawal Pindi on the railway; thence to Bombay.

The disasters which overtook us on the plateau
were those more or less familiar in the recitals of
other adventurers into this most difficult land. We
travelled for eight weeks, never at altitudes less than
15,500 feet, often rising to 18,500 feet. The country
is quite barren and uninhabited, and the cold is ex-
treme. Hence the ponies rapidly die T thus imperil-
ling the lives of men, who, at such elevations, must
have transport. The hardships were in every re-
spect more severe than those experienced by me in
a considerable journey in Africa — from Somaliland
to Khartoum.

The Turkestan region, at a much lower level than
Tibet (about 3500 feet), offered little difficulty. Its
historical interest is great, and has direct relation with
the development of European civilisation. Geo-
graphically and topographically the Central Asian
region differs so much from familiar lands that it
must be closely studied in order to be understood.

In many parts of Asia (but not all), the civilisa-
tions, both past and present, have had as their
physical basis a highly developed irrigation system.
Consideration of the facts presented to the traveller
and to the student has led me to conclude that irri-
gatiojitizi/isations are of a special type. They are
easily distinguishable, not only from commercial or

Preface v

military societies, but also from agricultural societies
of the kind familiar to us in Europe and America.
Such a view of the matter, when properly worked
out in detail of proof and conclusion, seems to me
to contain the key to certain historical problems of
the first importance. In the following pages it has
not been possible to do much more than to state the
theme; I hope to give it full treatment at a later
date. Meanwhile, I shall be gratified if the interest
of some inquiring and critical minds should be
awakened by the suggestions now presented.

In Western and Eastern Turkestan, respectively,
the traveller may observe, and compare, Russian
and Chinese colonial administration. Most inter-
esting are the indications thus given of the charac-
teristics of two peoples now challenging the world's
closest attention. Incidentally, one is of course
drawn to consider the general relation of Europe to
Asia. I trust that if any of my readers have been
uneasy as to the Yellow Peril, these pages may
quiet some fears and awaken some charities.

The recent British attack upon Tibet is of much
more moment, I believe, than would be inferred
from the isolated situation and relative weakness of
the Tibetan people. Although at this writing the
withdrawal of all British representation from Tibet
may seem to leave matters almost in statu quo antt\
it can scarcely be presumed that so considerable an
effort will be permanently left without result. The
whole affair seems to have been largely due to one
man — the late Viceroy, Lord Curzon. London in-
fluences seem never to have gone heartily into this
lamentable excursion, and the treaty dictated by

Viceroy was emasculated by the Home Govern-

But a fixed source of irritation has been

m ! n t ld Ultimate re-conquest by the stronger

tTC * C will doubtless be the result; and permanent

^ruoation of Tibet, as provided by the Curzon or

Vounehusband treaty, will doubtless be established.

h case a new situation arises in Asian politics.

The two great rivals, Russia and England, will

a k at China's back door, hidden from our view.

"Discussion of the history and institutions of Tibet

A of the present political situation occupies a con-

^derable part of my text. Knowledge of the geo-

hic,i! situation is of the utmost importance in

.. \[i,,.- with these topics. I feel myself fortunate

i that no official obligation of any kind burdens me

tlu expression of the opinions that have arisen

t m such direct observation and subsequent study

I |iav<- mail':. It is, I believe, true that all others

ftavc perhaps Sven Hedin) who have visited these

accludcd regions in recent years are more or less

nib. ur iva «l by iosbc official or personal ties. It is

||i(| ,,,, ,,it by this to assail the honesty of the views

!,,,,, ,1 by the two correspondents (Messrs. Lan-

,,n,l Candler) who were permitted to go with

,,,. | v on ri| '.husband, and who have written very

Ifitarfltlflg and valuable accounts of the historic

,,,.,,< h to Lhasa. Yet it may fairly be expected

il,.,t men who have been given such unique favour

by .-Hi ' 1 1 influence should cither openly approve

,l • official policy or maintain a gentlemanly re-

•rrvc. In differing with the authors just named as

|0 thr Mrftdoffl "f the Tibetan War, considered only

#• ,i\ the material interests of the Empire, I

Preface v\\

find myself in accord with many opinions emanating
from men of weight in England. The moral aspects
of the matter demand the deepest concern of all
citizens of the predatory states constituting the
"civilised world." That this particular war finds,
even in England, only apologists rather than parti-
sans, must be taken as a sign of progress away from
violence.

In considering polyandry, the peculiar marriage
institution of the Tibetans, I have been led to
point out the dependence of all marital forms upon
property considerations. The special adaptation of
Tibetan unions (of various sorts) to peculiar land-
conditions is, I trust, presented in a manner which
will convince without offending.

Perhaps many of those who may read this book
are less concerned than is the writer about religion
in general. To such it will doubtless seem that the
faith and the works of Mohammedans and Buddhists
are too frequently put in contrast with the corre-
sponding elements in the life of Christendom. And
to some it may seem that this contrast is urged with
prejudice against the religion of our Western world.
But prejudice lies not in the mind of one who be-
lieves, as 1 do, that all thoughts, acts, and things
are, alike, the creations of one Power. Hence con-
cerning the philosophtsings which may be encoun-
tered in these pages only two charges may be held
possible— honest error in the substance and uncon-
scious faults in the treatment.

Among recent works (not given in the bibliography
of Tibet in the Encyclopedia Britannica, ninth edi-
tion), the following may be mentioned as helpful.

Preface

Mr. W. W. RockhUTs Land of the Lamas, M. Gre-
nard's Le Tibet, and Mr. Landon's Opening of
Tibet are the most important works, in English or
French, bearing on this subject. The recital of
Sarat Chandra Das, an East Indian surveyor who
went to Lhasa some ten years ago, is of value and
is in English. The journeys made by Sven Hedin,
VVelby, Deasey, Bowers, Littledale, and Bonvalot
have been also put before the world in instructive
form. The British Blue-books are as a mine of
wealth — but the gold must be separated from the
dross therein, which is bulky and cumbersome be-
cause of the repetitions involved in printing hier-
archical correspondence. The British public chiefly,
and the general reading world beside, have been
already stirred by the revelations contained in the
Blue-books from which considerable extracts appear
in appendices to this volume. The careful reader
will desire to be refreshed concerning his recollec-
tions of these official recitals; hence the rather
lengthy citations.

It is hoped that the Tibetan songs appearing in
an appendix will be appreciated, not only for their
literary value, but also for the intimate view afforded
by them of the characteristics of a people who are
as yet very unfamiliar to us. A considerable collec-
tion of such songs has been made by several of the
Moravian missionaries at Leh. This graceful work,
added to their more serious undertaking, should win
for these noble men a general gratitude.

O. T. C.

Washington, D. C. U. S. A.
September l, 1905.

CONTENTS

PAGB

CHAPTER I

RUSSIAN TURKESTAN — ACROSS BLACK SANDS — FROM

KRASNOVODSK TO ANDIJAN .... I

CHAPTER II

ANDIJAN TO KASHGAR — OVER THE HILLS AND FAR

AWAY 23

CHAPTER III

KASHGAR — THE YELLOW PERIL — TAOTAI AND CON-
SUL GENERAL 36

CHAPTER IV

KHOTAN — DREAMS OF THE PAST — DOUBTS OF THE

PRESENT 52

CHAPTER V
ON TO POLU — AND THE LURE OF THE UNKNOWN. 64

CHAPTER VI

A PLUNGE TO WHITHER-AWAY — THE AKSAI CHIN

OR WHITE DESERT 78

CHAPTER VII

CAMP PURGATORY — PHILOSOPHY AND RELIGION VS.

PROBABLE DEATH — KIRGHIZ SAMARITANS 97

x Contents

CHAPTER VIII

PAGE

GLACIERS, YAKS, SKELETONS, A LOVE AFFAIR, AND

A HIGH SONG ON THE KARAKORAM ROUTE . 108

CHAPTER IX

TREES, TIBETANS, AND THE TELEGRAPH — PANAMIK

AND LADAK LEH 120

CHAPTER X

LADAK LEH TO RAWAL PINDI— FROM YAK TO RAIL-
WAY VIA PONY TRAIL, OVER THE HIMALAYAS,
INTO THE VALE OF KASHMIR . . . . 131

CHAPTER XI
A LITTLE STUDY OF THE MAP . . . . 141

CHAPTER XII

THE TIBETAN PEOPLE — POLYANDRY AND MONAS-

TICISM 146

CHAPTER XIII
RELIGION 167

CHAPTER XIV

INDUSTRY AND ART — TIBETAN ARCHITECTS — CARA-
VAN VS. RAILWAY 178

CHAPTER XV

SKETCH OF TIBETAN HISTORY FROM MISTY BEGIN-
NINGS, 350 A.D. (?), TO JOHN BULL'S APPEAR-
ANCE 185

Contents xi

CHAPTER XVI

PAGS

A CENTURY OF IRRITATIONS — THE FUMES OF THE

OPIUM WAR CLOUD THE POLITICAL SKY

FATHERS HUC AND GABET .... 200

CHAPTER XVII

CHASTENING OF HERBERT SPENCER — BRITISH POLICY
— CONTEST FOR A BARE BONE — PRESENT PO-
LITICAL SITUATION 214

CHAPTER XVIII

THE WOLF AND THE LAMB — COMMERCIAL CON-
VENTIONS and Christ's code — what is

THE RIGHT ? 228

CHAPTER XIX
COUNSELS OF PERFECTION 248

CHAPTER XX
THE SACRIFICE OF YOUNGHUSBAND — WHAT NEXT ? 255

CHAPTER XXI
SKETCH OF THE HISTORY OF TURKESTAN . 260

APPENDICES 274

INDEX 325

ILLUSTRATIONS

PACK

Yak-caravan on the Saser Glacier, in a Snow-
mist, 18,000 Feet Elevation . Frontispiece

In the Heart of Bokhara — "City Water-
works" 6

Photo by Comte Berber.

Beauties (?) or Bokhara 10

The Boy-bayaderes of Bokhara ... 14

One of the City Gates, Bokhara .18

Photo by Comte Berber.

A Samarcand Jewess in Ceremonial Attire 22

From Turkestan Russe, by M. H. Krafft.

The Righistan, Samarcand .... 26

Ruins at Samarcand 30

Taking a Rest in Samarcand .... 34

Committee of Reception in a Village of Chi-
nese Turkestan 40

Madrasah Khodja-Akhbar, near Samarcand . 46

From Turkestan Russe % by M. H. Krafft.

Russian Chapel after the Earthquake —

Andijan 50

In Front of the Officers' Club at Osh . 56

River Bank at Osh 60

Photo by Comte Berber.

Youth and Middle Age in Osh ... 64

xiii

xiv IUustnuioas

Typical Irrigated Regk>x sear Oss 7°

Russian Officer Coxmaxdexg the Border-post

near Russiax-Chxxesk Froxtikr 74

Crossing the Traxs-AlaI Mocxtaixs 80

a cottox-caravax traxs-alai mocxtaixs . &f

A Kirghiz Family uxdee Observatwx 9°

Holland, America. Exglaxd. axd Russia tx

Kashgar W

A Kashgar Crowd ,eo

A Morning Bath at Kashgar ... - 106

A Busy Corner ix Kashgar . .no

Kashgar Types "4

Father Hendricks ix his Priv ate Car . nS

A Type ix Khotax »«

Busy Traders in Khotax «* 6

Specimens op Manuscript Recovered from a
Sand-buried City of the Taklamakax

Desert 130

Specimens of Manuscript Recovered from a
Sand-buried City of the Taklamakax

Desert 136

Clay Ornaments Found in a Sand-buried City

of the Taklamakan Desert . 140

Our Rescue Party at Camp Purgatory . 146

Cave-dwellers near Polu 150

The Beo of Polu and Caliban . 156

Friends of Ras Worke, Abyssinia" . . .162
Photo by Mr. J. H. Baird.

Illustrations xv

PACK

A Stiff Bit of Up-grade near Polu . . 168

Our Grain Transport up Polu Gorge . .174

Reloading after a Break-neck Pull . .180

The Author at Karakoram Pass . . .186

Captain Anginieur — Taken at Elevation of

18,000 Feet ....... 190

The Pilgrims — at an Elevation of 18,000

Feet 196

Seeking a Way through Unknown Mountains . 202

Man-handling the Loads. Mir Mullah in

Middle Ground 210

The Author — Taken at Elevation of 18,000

Feet 214

Tibetans of Nobra Valley .... 218

Wayside Tombs (Chortens) in the Nobra Val-
ley 226

A Happy Home in Turkestan .... 230

Example of Myriad Prayer-stones (Half

Natural Size in this Case) . . . 234

"Om mani pad me Hud."

Where Watered Sands Burst into Life . . 240

Typical Chorten in Tibet .... 244

King's Palace and Remarkable Group of

Chortens in Ladak Leh .... 248

A View in Lhasa 252

Photo by the Buriat Dorjieff. Furnished through cour-
tesy of the National Geographic Society.

xvi Illustrations

MOB

A Corner in Lhasa 256

Photu by the Buriat Dorjieff. Furnished through cour-
tesy of the National Geographic Society.

A Structure in Lhasa 260

Photo by the Buriat Dorjieff. Furnished through cour-
tesy of the National Geographic Society.

Tibetan Book, as Taken from the " Library."

Leaves from Tibetan Book . . . 264

Map of Central Asia .... at end

Showing route of Captain F. Anginieur and Mr. Crosby.

TIBET AND TURKESTAN

CHAPTER I

RUSSIAN TURKESTAN — ACROSS BLACK SANDS —
FROM KRASNOVODSK TO ANDIJAN

SERIOUS changes, of international importance,
are about to be made in Central Asia, where
conditions are known but vaguely, except to certain
officials who can speak only in accord with the poli-
cies they serve, and to a few travellers. Concern-
ing the actualities in Turkestan and Tibet, there is
an English administration point of view — which is
loudly proclaimed; a Russian administration point
of view — which is imperfectly known to Western
Europe; a Chinese administration point of view,
which cannot be frankly expressed by the Peking
Government; a Tibetan point of view, which is
vainly uttered to the unresponsive snows; and an
independent point of view, which I endeavour here
to set forth. When one observes the activities of
three great empires, four great religions, and a dozen
races, interacting among conditions whose simplicity
permits sharp definition, he may perchance see things
that are somewhat hidden in the larger, overwhelm-
ing world to which we belong.

Tibet and Turkestan

On the map of Central Asia, not many years ago,
it was all Turkestan. Now it is Russian Turkestan
and Chinese Turkestan, Soon it will be simply
Russia.

You may, if you care to, get aboard with me at
Krasnovodsk, on Caspia's shores, and sweep across
the black deserts to Bokhara, Samarcand, Andijan ;
thence onward, but not by rail, to far Tibet. The
little special car which you enter will make us com-
fortable enough — that is* comfortable as may be in
a July crossing of hot sands. I shall first telegraph
my thanks, anent the car, to the Russian Railway
Minister, acknowledging his great courtesy in car-
ing for an American traveller who has no special
claims upon him. Then let me introduce to you
your travelling companions — Captain Fernand An-
ginieur of the French army, and myself. He and
I have known each other just three days. We met
in Tiflis, over there in the Caucasus, on the other
side of the sea. Captain Anginieur intends going
the length of the Trans-Caspian railway ; and since
he has heard of my plans in re Tibet, is already re-
volving a request to his Ministry for permission to
go with me. You are to know him very well, and
hence you will like him very well. Meanwhile he
helps to fill with cheerfulness the cozy little carriage,
which contains a bedroom, a sitting-room, a wee
storeroom, where the moujik makes tea, and a
toilet room with a shoivcr-hulh! Think of that, O
dusty traveller, even of the first class! Think of
that and envy us, while we vow many candles to
Prince Khilkoff, Minister of Railways.

Whether the moujik stands up all night in the

Russian Turkestan 3

kitchen or whether he sleeps in the narrow corridor,
we know not; he is always at hand, always making
tea, which we are always drinking. He is an ideal
porter- valet -cook combination. Let me present to
you also Joseph, our interpreter. He was found in
Tiflis; he speaks French admirably, and of Oriental
tongues, Russian, Persian, Turki, Armenian, a little
Arabic, and, if there be a surviving dialect of it,
Chaldean, for by race Joseph is a Chaldean; he
lived until recently in Persia; he was educated by a
French missionary; has journeyed as far as Kashgar
with French travellers, and promises to go there, —
yea, even beyond Kashgar — with us. He is a rather
weak little man, honest, 1 believe, and well informed
—altogether a superior representative of that disap-
pointing class, Asiatic Christians. He called me
"Excellence" until he discovered that my purse and
manner made no special response. Joseph is trav-
elling second-class, but he is a neat person and
does n't look rumpled in the mornings. He forages
M the well-appointed railway restaurants which are
a precious fruit of Russian civilisation. We go for*
ward to the dining-car; yes — there is a dining-car in
Turkestan! In it are plenteous vegetable soups,
cucumbers ad infinitum* good meats, cold drinks.
The service is slow, but clean enough. Here you
meet the Russian officials and their wives going to
distant duty in the queer places which now bear the
Czar's yoke and enjoy the Czar's peace. Here, too,
you may meet, on this particular journey, three
charming young French gentlemen, who are going
as far as Samarcand, thence returning, and up the
Volga — thence across Siberia. Two of them are

Tibet and Turkestan

£cole Polytechnique men — both sons of prominent
railway officials. Their culture is wider and deeper
than that of young American or English engineers.
In observing a given thing they see more of its re-
lations with the rest of the universe than we ordi-
narily see.

You and I, O Anglo-Saxon spirit-companion,
shall find that our forty-year wisdom may learn
much from twenty-five-year French intuition, and
we shall learn to doubt the meaning of the word
"decadence" as applied to the ripest — but not
rottenest — people of our European world. A sug-
gestive thing it was to watch Anginieur and these
other temperate, complicated, critical, sensitive, in-
tellectual Frenchmen in their amused association
with the lusty, simple, strong, confident, physical
Russians. What strange secrets hath nature in the
mixing of clay to make men ! Some sure bond there
undoubtedly is between chemistry and psychology,
but alas! the formula of that bond is the Great
Secret which man, I think, shall never know. Thus
it was that I could but ruminate and wonder, while
listening for hours to the explosive French jargon of
a young Russian officer, whose hairy breast heaved,
whose bold, kind eyes glistened, whose brow ran
wet while he drank at us, jested with us, rattled all
the cups of the dining-car, and explained by his sole
personality the measureless strength of his people.
A mere commentary on this personality seemed the
conquered deserts through whose heats we travelled,
— whose children we saw quietly gathered at the
stations which had been battle-fields whereon the
Cossack Christ overcame the Turcoman Mahomet.

Russian Turkestan

When the great bridge across the Amou Daria —
the classic Oxus — has been passed, when our re-
luctant eyes have again turned from its cool flow to
the dark, hot sands, the Russian officer recalls to us
the hardship his people suffered in constructing this
railway, which is a mighty engine of war, and a
yet stronger implement for peace. The Oxus once
flowed to the Caspian Sea — but the Amou Daria
flows to the Aral basin ; truly an erratic, radical
change to be made by a great, dignified river. Yet
not less radical has been the change in the political
destiny of all the vast region which the river trav-
erses. And as there is now no other basin to
which it would seem possible that its waters could
run, so there seems no other power than Russia
which could govern this Central Asian region.
Neither of these parallel propositions shall here be
argued at length, but a relief map and a skeleton
history would establish both.

Bokhara is our first halting-place. We find and
monopolise the three rooms of a decent boarding*
house near the station, in the small Russian
settlement. Here is the residence of the Czar's
representative who "advises " the Emir — and whose
advice is so singularly sound that it is always
followed. The relation thus established is one of
the oldest in political history, and may safely be
recommended to any strong power desiring to econ-
omise its strength, while never ceasing to threaten
and "protect " the weaker one.

From the Russian town we drive over to the
native city — fifty thousand people or more pro-
tected by several miles of sand from the rush of the

Tibet and Turkestan

desecrating locomotive. The bazaars are like ani-
mated tunnels, being narrow streets covered over
with matting or boughs that the sun's intemperate
rays may not burn up the busy movement of parti-
coloured people who patter back and forth, passing
the squatting merchants. You enter by way of
melons — quantities of them, on both sides the big
• iiy gate; you progress through brass-work, iron-
mongery, saddlery, butchery, cookery; then you
arc in a sort of focus of bazaars, and the appetising
fumes from open-air restaurants may float tempta-
tion in half-a-dozen directions. Near by are sweet-
meats, then brilliant skullcaps, then European
calicos, then true, fascinating Bokhara silks; then,
around a corner, are equally fascinating rugs, then
sweetmeats, then spices, vegetables and all garden
truck and then — and then — so it goes through all the
series of wants of this Mussulman ant-hill. Not many
women are seen, but the colour-effects of the crowd
are made startling by the backs of men clad in
gay hues. At the silk counters are a few ladies,
formless in their all-enclosing cloaks, the long black
veils falling like a great ink stain on a coloured page.
Through little windows sewed jealously in the veil-
ing, or around its perilous edge, their unseen eyes
peer at the soft tissues of strange designs, and their
low, controlled voices urge a zestful bargain to tardy
conclusion, — so sweet is that universal communion
between Possession and Desire. The very close
concealment of women's faces seems here to be pro-
portioned, when compared with fashion in other
Mussulman cities, to the reputation for superior
sanctity so long enjoyed by Bokhara. Its teachers

Russian Turkestan 7

have gone out to preach the very letter of the Koran
— the letter of rigid practice among the Faithful,
and of rigid hate against the Infidel. Until the day
of the railway, the European's presence in any one
of Bokhara's eighty mosques (somehow fabled to be
three hundred and sixty- five) was ever a probable
cause of riot.

But all this has been changed by the Russians.
One is now as safe in the Emir's territory as in Mos-
cow. His army, which we saw manoeuvring hand-
somely under its native officers, has been organised
by Russian advice and is tamely uniformed and
armed in European fashion. Because he feels irri-
tated by the watchful supervision of the Muscovite;
because he is saddened by the vain show of emascu-
lated power, which is now all that remains of a
former omnipotence; because he is a lazy lover of
luxurious ease — for one or all of such surmised
reasons, the Emir has left the rather tawdry palace
just outside the city's walls, and now dwells in re-
tirement some thirty or forty miles away, returning
only on state occasions or when some unusual oc-
currence draws htm to his capital. We were told
that such visits were not relished by his subjects,
over whom the vestige of his power may yet be
tyrannically exercised in many petty matters.

One must not, however, take too literally the
point of view adopted by European administrators,
or their native sycophants, in a subjugated Asiatic
state. Practices that seem the sheerest abuse of
power, even to the Russian, may yet be not disliked
in these communities, whose traditions and whose
present sentiments we but dimly apprehend. Nor

Tibet and Turkestan

should occasional violence be taken as conclusive
evidence of a radically bad status. Were the game
of interference played among populations less pli-
able than those making up the majorities in Central
Asia, it would certainly be found that the benefit of
mere regularity in a foreign-born government would
not be accepted as against native, though violent
and tyrannical rule. The truth of this proposition
has been abundantly shown in the fierce resistance
of Bokhara's neighbour state — Afghanistan — to
British or Russian domination. But the Turkestan
majorities are sheep-like people, accustomed ever to
be mastered by some hardier, wandering folk from
the far east plains of Mongolia or the nearer steppes
and mountain valleys wherein irrigation methods
are impossible, and hence where the struggle of man
for daily bread and comfortable shelter develops
those qualities which make conquerors of wanderers,
or more yielding rebels of those who plough the
stiff soil for an uncertain crop.

Not generally in the study of history's lessons
have we sufficiently emphasised the special charac-
teristics due to the unvarying fertility, the enervat-
ing facility, and the great vulnerability of irrrigation
systems. Societies have been divided into nomadic,
agricultural, manufacturing, and commercial types.
The distinction that has not been clearly made and
studied in its very important results is that which
makes a separate class of the irrigating agriculturist
— safe against climatic risks; crowded in small
holdings; dependent on combined action for the
construction of irrigation works; the ready victim of
any violence which seizes some certain ditch. Con-

Russian Turkestan

trast him with his brother who lives by the grace of
uncertain rains; forced to a prevision which makes
the lean year borrow from the fat; able to live wide
away from his neighbour, developing thereby an
independent individualism which may ripen into
civil order and liberty; each farmer whose land has
its own water-supply capable of making some mili-
tary resistance.

There is not space in these pages to develop an un-
familiar principle which has its demonstrations and
applications in the foundation and growth of almost
all human history. We must ask a large exercise
of inferential reasoning, based upon the scant sug-
gestions which have been outlined, or a large faith
on the part of those whose tastes refuse to drudge
the details out of which generalisations are made.
To leave this subject, without leaving the country
through which our journey now takes us, is hard
indeed; yet it is a duty which one owes to the
general reader, who, according to all sound morality,
should not be dragooned into being a specialist. Let
it go at this— the dense, settled populations of culti-
vators and small tradesmen in all the great artificial
oases of Turkestan (Russian and Chinese) are like
so many fat sheep when viewed by predatory wolves
such as you and I, or such as the fierce mountain
tribes or hardy nomads. Down any bazaar in Bo-
khara, Samarcand, Andijan, Kashgar, Yarkand,
Khotan, you and I, each armed with but a shillalah,
might victoriously drive the herded, happy people,
provided always that there chanced not to be within
the herd some Kirghiz, mountain Afghan, or no-
mad Turcoman. What you and I can do others

Tibet and Turkestan

have done — and thus the checkered history of Cen-
tral Asia and India has been written for lo ! these
many centuries. 1

Again we rumble over black sands, leaving the
gardens and groves of Bokhara behind us. We
have seen the city as Alexander saw it, save that it
was larger, 1 think, in his day, and perhaps there
were no cotton-fields round about. Now we shall
see Samarcand — glorious from Tamerlane's day —
notable indeed when, as Marcando, it was destroyed
by his great Greek predecessor. A little farther he
marched north-eastward, but Samarcand may fairly
be said to be the proper monument of Alexander's
extrcmest reach in this direction, and only the Czar's
recent conquests have ever carried European arms
farther into Asia's heart. Here also may be marked
the western verge of China's power, whose long arm
once reached — only to be withdrawn— toward the
great monuments which Tamerlane had left. This
conqueror, who was of the Mongolian, virile strain,

1 The vast development of irrigation work now progressing in the
Tar Western States of America will inexorably produce, generations
hence, a type far less hardy in mental constitution than that which
we now present. Were it not that these new regions are part of a
vast country chiefly filled with people who must fight uncertainties,
and were it not that no great neighbour lies close to their irrigated
field, we might well hesitate to produce the conditions which shall,
in turn, be the source of enormous wealth and little virility. Meso-
potamia, Egypt, Bengal, Middle China, Mexico ! Since the first
ditch was dug in your yielding soils — how many billions of slaves
have been engendered, fed, and reclaimed in death by your thirsting
sands ! How many fretting tyrants have come down, with the fresh
mountain dews upon their brows, to riot in your slave-breeding
plains, and fatally to breed a later race of slaves, whose necks have
also bent to later mountain men!

Russian Turkestan

put upon Samarcand the crown of empire. Here
he builded — and some rulers after him — the great
mosques and tombs whose white-and-blue beauty it
is so hard to suggest in words. Under their spell,
even an unimaginative American may feel the same
enthusiasm which moved a cultivated French travel-
ler. M. Hugues Krafft, to express himself as follows:

"Worthy of taking rank among the masterpieces of
architecture, the 'great monuments of Samarcand ' ought
to be known equally with the most majestic edifices
of the Greeks, the Romans, our Gothic cathedrals of
France, and the most celebrated creations of the Italian
Renaissance.

' ' Beyond the bridge commences the native city. The
shops, the tea-counters follow each other, almost without
interruption, along a gentle rise, up to the basin which
immediately precedes the Reghistan. Here one is at the
heart of 'old Samarcand,' at the centre of all the bazaars
and in the midst of the population's most feverish move-
ment. . , . Should I live a hundred years I should
ever retain the extraordinary impression left upon me by
the first sight of the Reghistan, with its maJrasas and its
many-coloured masses. . . . The horses of our light
phaeton moving at a furious gallop, we made way through
the Asiatic crowd ranged, immobile, on either side of the
highway, and through people on foot and on horse, whom
the stationed police scattered as best they could. Along
the whole distance, the Sarts, hands crossed on breast,
bowed and bent one after the other; and I might have
thought myself an Oriental sovereign passing before his
subjects, had I not known that these humble salutations
were addressed solely to my companion (the Russi m

Tibet and Turkestan

Governor). Thus there was a hasty view of the Reghis-
tan filled with moving shops and with Mussulmans; of
porticos and of minarets bright with shining faience
which glistened in the sun. Beyond, there was the first
sight of the majestic walls of Bibi Khanim and of the
innumerable multitude which surged around them.
Then, still farther, the marvellous view which dominates
the plateau of Afrasi.ib Mini ilic sandy slopes occupied by
the mosques of the Chdh-Zindi. The impression which
I experienced from this succession of fairydike spectacles
v. as so strong that I could scarce utter a word, wholly
overcome by an extraordinary emotion, little guessed by
my companion, doubtless long since accustomed to so
much splendour. How many times since have I seen
these scintillating monuments, that motley crowd, with-
out ever tiring of the sight! "

The most graceful of the marvellous structures,
raised here by a tyrant's power, is a monument to
the power of a yet more universal tyrant, him whom
all delight to honour, the great god Love. Tamer-
lane had many wives, probably loved many ; for it
is a proof of a certain largeness of nature that a
man's heart should go out to many women, willing,
wanting to be loved. Rut chiefly this heart of many
mansions was filled by love for Btbi Khanim, a fair
maid from far Cathay. And when God took her
away from the Emperor, he commanded her name
to be given to this structure, great and beautiful as
their love had been. Later, when mountain and
desert and river had been crossed, I saw in the world
of India another most beautiful monument to a dead
queen, who pleased another Mussulman Emperor,
and whose bones now lie in the Taj Mahal, at

Russian Turkestan

Agra — in the Taj Mahal, priceless pearl of archi-
tecture.

Think of it — polygamous Asia's two most lovely
structures are monuments to the triumph of wo-
man's charm for man. Can the system, then, be all
unjust, or all unhappy, or all wrong for the given
conditions of climate, geography, topography, and,
finally, of temperament? Perhaps so — yet, then, a
wrong ordained by the Power. We of European
condition have been made to develop much mono-
gamy with responsibilities, and some polygamy
without responsibilities. Asia and Africa have been
made to develop much polygamy, some monogamy,
and some polyandry, all with responsibility. There
is plainly a difference of social adaptability — as there
are differences of flora and fauna. Let us cease to
curse our divergent neighbour. Let us ccaie to
worship tribal gods, race gods, continental gods, —
let us try to feel that all trees and all men and all
relations of things have been made by the same
power and that they constantly obey it.

At Samarcand Captain Anginieur and I were
agreeably entertained by General Madinsky, Gov-
ernor-General, in the spacious, handsome official
residence. His goodness took practical form in the
gift to me of an excellent Smith and Wesson. So
perfect is the Czar's peace, that the General said he
was tired of keeping a loaded weapon, a use for
which had not occurred in many years of wandering
throughout Russian Turkestan. I was glad to get
even so small an addition to my armory — which
then consisted only of one Mauser pistol. The woes
are many of him who would acquire arms of defence

•4

Tibet and Turkestan

in Russia. The old army rifles, now discarded,
are tantalisingly numerous in the arsenals, and
tantalisingly cheap, if only one could obtain per-
mission to buy them. Hut even for a Russian officer
such permission is by no means a matter of course —
and only the War Minister may give it. Of course,
a dealer cannot handle military arms — only sporting
pieces and pistols; perhaps you may buy the shot-
guns (smooth-bores) without permit : for pistols,
written permission is required, and report must be
made of the purchase. The im p ro mptu is not en-
couraged in Russia,

Surely, surely, the Russian, soldier or civilian,
will woefully lack initiative— surely he is but a weak
competitor with, let us say, the American, if meas-
ured man for man in the strife of war or industry.
A hard saying, it may be thought, when one's mind
dwells upon the brilliant intellects which may be
met in St. Petersburg, or the faithful, patient moujik
who is seen all over the great Empire. A hard say-
ing, it may seem, when one thinks also of the cour-
teous, watchful, intelligent officers who administer
the wide lands through which our journey takes us
— who have created the substantial little white cities
that guard the big black native towns. But they
are too few— too few. And it remains, that if the
■age individual were strong in himself, then we
should not see the cancelled columns of newspapers
in hotel reading-rooms— for the man in the street
would then be wise enough to read whatever the
London, Paris, or New York papers chose to pub-
lish. We would not see the Jewish woman I chanced
to meet in the Moscow police office, asking in vain

Russian Turkestan

that she be allowed, without special report on each
occasion, to go and come between the city and a
near-by suburb whither her work carried her twice a
week; for the average Russian would then be able
to protect himself against the Jewish competition by
ordinary means ; while now his inferior intelligence
makes necessary the brutal methods of protection
which American workmen once used against Chinese
coolies. We would not hear Russian officers con-
gratulating themselves on having duty in the rela-
tively easy-going borders of the Empire, because
there excessive bureaucracy is sheer impossibility.

It is in these border lands, I believe, that Russia
will learn the lesson of ordered individualism which
shall transform and glorify her future. I cannot
forget the most vivacious Russian whom I met t it
route from Moscow to Tiflis — a young electrical
engineer who emphasised the fact that he was a
Siberian, and because of that he insisted that he
could understand America. Nor shall I forget the
jolly station-master at Krasnovodsk, who refused
the fifteen roubles offered out of deference to the
false tradition which makes every Russian a bribe-
taker, while he indicated that he would accept a lot
of French magazines because their outlook was larger
than the native literature. Nor shall I forget the
l&dies in the household of the Natchalik— colonel
commanding the Osh District. There were mother
and daughter, and two young friends from Tash-
kent, capital of Turkestan. One of these was a
telegraph operator — orphan, of a good family; all
three were cultured young women, better musicians
than the average well-educated American girl —

Tibet and Turkestan

speaking French, dancing prettily, nucleus of a true
frontier aristocracy of refinement. They had been
educated at Orenburg in Siberia, had never seen
the Moscow- Petersburg form of Russian society, and
would probably marry officers or civilians who like-
wise know nothing of European Russia,

So it was in far Kashgar. The old retiring
Consul-General had spent a lifetime in Asia — and
now, the end of labour drawing near, he had decided
to die, not in one of the great towns of the West,
but in Tashkent, in the very heart of Russian Turk-
estan. In Kashgar, too, were several civilians who
had never been west of the Ural Mountains. It has
been impossible to subject those frontier folk to
Moscow discipline. True, there is always one re-
servation due to the very essence of the Russian
system, and which sharply marks off any Russian
from any American, that is, he rarely talks politics
with strangers; never, at least, any radical politics.
He might — though this is not on my part experi-
mental knowledge — question the wisdom of the pro-
tection policy of his Government, or any such similar
policy, but the form of his government seems to be
adopted as a necessary background to life — as a
form of thought." Either a loyalty, almost uni-
versal, or a fear, equally universal (the former, I
think), prevents the average Russian mind from
entering this region, mysterious to him, familiar
and vital to nearly all Europeans and Americans.
Once outside this reservation, these frontiersmen in
Asia show much of the self-reliance, the mental
temerity which characterise our own frontier, or any
other frontier occupied by strong men.

Russian Turkestan

Now the conditions of life at the circumference
are unlike those at the centre; the acceptable social
organisation at St. Petersburg is not the same as
that at Samarcand or Irkutsk. Sacred as are the
old traditions now, for the period of expansion is
short, it seems that they must be inevitably weak-
ened by time and distance. Even now one may
note, because this addresses the eye, that in the
new cities men show less than in the old of fetish
worship for the religious thing or priest; there is
less genuflexion, bowing, and crossing, but not less
of morality in practical life. In Russia, the Church,
with ail its forms, is part of the form of the State.
He who finds himself unconsciously drifting from
the one set of forms is also departing from the other.
If the existing political body is unfit for the devel-
opment of a great people, we may feel that in the
ceaseless extension of its frontier the aristocracy is
preparing conditions which shall operate to peace-
fully modify those institutions which are inconsistent
with reasonable individual liberty. Powerful as will
be this retroaction from circumference back to cen-
tre, it will not, I surmise, be of the violent character
which may be expected in the centre itself. For
these colonisations which have carried the Czar's flag
so far, are made by men of old patriarchal customs.

The father has himself a highly centralised au-
thority; he teaches and would enforce the tradition
of loyalty to the Czar, Generations must pass be-
fore you could make a radical of him. Indeed he
might be expected to indefinitely propagate Czar-
worshippers if it were not that the frontier ceases to
be frontier. It has its big towns in time; and a

Tibet and Turkestan

big town that is vigorous — not a Rome of the second
century, or an Antioch — is a favouring environment
for the liberty germ. And such movements as may
hereinafter begin in Siberian towns will have, if not
too radical, a support from the farming class which,
in Russia proper, is almost wholly lacking. There
the peasantry is a black mass in which the town-
lighted fire must burn slowly; it is a mass of coagu-
lated ignorance and superstition. And it is moulded
by the old landlord class, who are not in any coun-
try good revolutionists. In the new Russia there
are more settlers who own their lands— they are in
conditions which encourage wide-awakef ulness ; and
though the central Government endeavours to con-
trol everywhere the consumption of that dangerous
drug, education, yet it cannot wholly refuse satis-
faction to a strong appetite prevailing in a great
distant province.

The cause of Reform in Russia will, then, I think,

I-. nmetliing like this: In European Russia, vio-

I hi . \|-l..,ions in cities, violently repressed by the

dull strength of the moujik; in Asiatic Russia, stub-

I -.I it rcaiitancc against class privilege and against

.Hi. u.l tyranny of thfl imtatiiii; sort : finally, steady

Ltnd i"i moderate reform in the direction of

.. nnui.il> t.jMi-stiitativc government, freed

I- i . bun 111 ritk veto-power, which now so largely

,i ul! tii.'. tit. 1,(1.11 of various elective bodies in

i i. i. h\.l. . .1 it is not difficult to imagine these

. i hni pi.ivmiv-i ai bcinjj the seats of progressiva^

'I Hi rnlng *tatc». long before it will seem

lili i • • % 1. 1- iblc i|ii.mtitic& of reform to

thl Oldtl niiiiiiiiif*, m.iih- up as they arc of a

v as

Russian Turkestan

thin layer of highly febrile material, overtopping a
very thick layer of an inert mass. But however
variant may be the progress in the Empire's wide
stretch, I see nothing to suggest destruction of the
essential unity of that Empire, or any cataclysmic
change in its form.

The local irritations in Finland, Poland, and the
Caucasus, however justifiable they may be, cannot
go to the length of establishing independent gov-
ernments in an age which demands consolidation.
Geographic and ethnical resemblances will tend to
hold together all the vast tract from Moscow to
Vladivostok — save in the Turkestan region — which
we are now traversing. Here, too, there is basis for
unity of empire — since all these regions must be
administered by the superior race, whose members
will never be considerable in these territories.
They are a common heritage to the Russian people.
When an inheritance is not easily divisible it be-
comes a force tending to conserve unity or union
among its owners. While thus of common interest,
yet they give political might chiefly to the new
Russia in Siberia. The best administrators for
Turkestan — certainly the majority of the forceful
ones whom I met, are men who knew not St. Peters-
burg. The case is analogous to that which would
have arisen had not Mexico redeemed herself within
the last twenty years. Under pressure from our
Western States the Southern territory would have
been annexed, and, not being ripe for amalgama-
tion to our forms, would have been ruled by men
from Iowa, Colorado, California.

The man from Denver and the man from Omsk

Tibet and Turkestan

are better frontier governors, generally, than the
man from Boston or Moscow, Whatever may have
been their birthplaces, General Medinsky at Samar-
cand, and Colonel SaitsefT at Osh, remain in my mind
as fine types of the Californian, less one-tenth of his
verve and nine-tenths of his political instinct.

The Smith and Wesson, silent so long, exploded
into a political discourse which now is ended, leav-
ing us free to take train again for Kokand — the first
big town beyond Samarcand. Here the Russian
quarter is again found; avenues poplar-shaded and
wide; substantial white houses; public carriages at
the station offering a somewhat rickety service, but
cheap and rapid. No monuments here to beguile
us, but we meet a most agreeable Frenchman, one
of several engaged in purchasing silk for shipment
to Lyons. Besides the Russians, they seem to be
the only Europeans having business interests in
Turkestan. The very sharp discrimination of the
Government in favour of its own subjects makes
commerce an up-hill work for the foreigner. The Ko-
kand bazaar is less interesting than that at Bokhara,
but in a fairly good Russian shop we were able to
make some purchases of dry groceries and canned
goods, none of fine quality, all quite expensive and
very Russian. Joseph assured us that Osh — though
thirty miles beyond the railway terminus, would be
found to offer superior stocks because of the large
garrison there, and the fact that it was a point of
distribution to distant troops. So it was that we
passed on to Andijan, — poor tumble-down, earth-
quake-shaken Andijan, — southwestern terminus of
the great Trans-Caspian Railway.

Russian Turkestan

Here about three years ago ten thousand human
lives— and some dogs and horses — were suddenly
snuffed out because of something which a solar-
system physician might diagnose as being merely a
mild case of Asiatic colic. Our Mother Earth was
indisposed, and she swallowed ten thousand of her
children while shaking herself to rights. The death
of each one of us, however regularly and decorously
it befalls, does exemplify this singular appetite of
the great mother, but an Andijan earth quake- feast
advertises it, proclaims aloud the universal requiem
"to dust returnest," and changes the ever- sorrowful
"why " of our yearning race into the groan of one
who is stunned to black unconsciousness.

In the general ruin one sees the broken cross that
crowned a Christian church, and there the muezzin
tower, scattered now into mere fragments, that, fall-
ing, crushed the roof of its mosque, consecrated by
generations of prayer — cross and crescent alike gone
down in helpless confusion. But whate'er betide
the dead, we know that the faith of the living faints
but for a moment, and the yearning for help never
dies. So it is, that now in fallen Andijan, until the
mason shall again lift the graceful dome, we hear
the prayers of the believers go up from the enclosure
of hasty earthen walls, through a roof of thatch,
half open to the sky. And I am awakened by the
early chant of a Russian priest who, in his chapel —
on wheels — blesses the union of two young moujiks.
They have come, ere the sun is fairly up, from
among the long line of railway carriages which
shelter hundreds of their kind. They are wed
ded; and leaving the churchly car, while still the

22 Tibet and Turkestan

attendants chant, they stumble across the rails,
stolid, apparently unmoved; a few friends, smiling
faintly, follow the pair with significant, but not joy-
ous I'lanccs. Verily your Russian peasant is a mas-
ter in concealing his emotions — if he has any. Nay,
but lw surely has emotions of sorts; for this railway
chapel would not otherwise minister to people
shaken from their homes, and the young peasants
would not have demanded the priestly blessing on a
venture to which they are invited by Mother Nature,
who wants another crop, and another, and another
for her perennial devouring.

A Saniir" ind Jewess in ceremoiii il ■tttre.

From Turkman A '.■.-... , b] U II. KmSt,

CHAPTER II

ANDIJAN TO KASHGAR — OVER THE HILLS AND FAR
AWAY

AN affectionate good-bye to the special car, and
we are off for a day's smart, hot drive to Osh.
We stop there at the post-house, in charge of a
simple Russian whose sick wife looks on while he
tries to cook for the travellers. That he can make
chat (tea) is incontestable. An all-comprehending
soup he also makes. As to anything else, we prefer
simple fare rather than watch his sloppy prepara-
tions. The stable is very near, the flies are nearer,
the smells are nearest, and the man's methods are
dirty. We do not like him. Even his just division
of labour between the cooking of our dinner and the
washing of his little child, insistent at certain critical
moments, could not disarm our hostility. But the
morrow shall bring a change, for we know there are
Russian officers at the sobranje, or club. To these
we make ourselves known and soon are invited to
make our beds in a comfortable room.

And now we must stir, for Osh is the limit of
wheeled transportation. A caravan must be organ-
ised. Colonel SaitsefT, local governor at Natcholik,
looks at a letter which is addressed, not to him, but
to Consul-General Petrovsky at Kashgar. It is our
only authorisation, and was given me by the Minister

of Foreign Affairs at Petersburg. We had not
known that special permission from the Provincial
Governor would be required for leaving Russian
territory. Anginieur, who has now decided to go
as far as Kashgar, thinks that his quality as an
officer of the nation, amh- it attit'e, may diminish
difficulties. There are several days of uncertain, but
courteous, negotiation. Colonel SaitsefT heliographs
and telegraphs. He then calls to say there is no one
at Marghclan, the provincial capital, who could give
the pass, but perhaps a personal note from him
will be accepted by the Chinese frontier officials.
An hour later we go to his office, where his aide,
Captain Kuropatkin, brother of the famous general,
surprises us by saying that the Marghelan governor
has given consent. We are bewildered, but con-
tent. The passes for ourselves, our men, and our
ponies are duly made out in two languages, and
when we hasten to bid adieu to the Colonel his
daughter says he is asleep, but will see us when he
wakes. A few minutes later his wife says he is
not asleep, but has had a headache for several
hours and begs to be excused. We are sorry and
ride away, never having thoroughly understood the
situation. Yet eventually all went well. The cara-
van had been gotten together by the authority
of the Natchalik, who evidently kept its prepara-
tion wholly under control. When the permission
to depart was promised for a certain day, the
ponies were to be had at the moment ; when helio-
graph delays occurred, the difficulty as to ponies
began; when the delay ended, the ponies promptly
reappeared. Perhaps the simple story of our

Andijan to Kashgar 25

chanceful meeting at Tiflis seemed a superlative
machiavellianism, invented to cover some interna-
tional deviltry. The combination of an American,
going as far as he could towards Lhasa, with a
Frenchman who thought he also might make the
venture, but would first go only to Kashgar, mean-
time telegraphing to Paris for further instructions —
all this, occurring at military Osh, doubtless seemed
to Russian official minds a thing to outwardly ap-
prove and inwardly doubt. However, we were at
last able to canter away from the Residency, hats
ofT to Madame' and Mademoiselle, feigning ease,
all of us, as to the Colonel's non-appearance.

Our little caravan of seven ponies was now well
under way ; we were off for Kashgar, about two hun-
dred and fifty miles south-east, in Chinese Turkes-
tan. There we must reorganise, for these men from
Osh would go no farther. We had engaged a good-
humoured Sart as cook and general helper. There
were three men to take care of the ponies with bur-
dens. We had paid the proper head man at Osh
half the caravan hire, which amounted to $7.00 per
pony for the whole journey. The Sart was to have
$12.50 per month. Joseph was our luxury — $2.50
per day and his food while with us, and half-pay
for a reasonable period covering his return. This
■ princely hire, but what is to be done without an
interpreter? Our food-suppty had been increased
by the purchase of a considerable quantity of coarse
canned goods, some macaroni, rice, sugar, etc.
Joseph had misunderstood Osh as a market-place,
:ind consequently we fared badly for many days
thereafter.

Tibet and Turkestan

Just as we rode away I went to the postmaster,
making what I thought to be a very clear arrange-
ment as to the forwarding by next carrier of my
chronometer (of the montre-torpilleur type), which
had been notified to me as being at Andijan straight
from a Petersburg dealer. The unresponsive official
was asked to see the Colonel, if any sort of doubt
could arise as to the immediate forwarding; we had
already wasted some days, were anxious to go on,
and in a moment of weakness I left the matter in
that condition. Just why a man of some experience
in travel should commit such folly I know not. A
few months later there was full and fair punishment
for my error. Indeed, my whole experience in life-
leaves me unconvinced concerning the necessity of
a purgatory — much less a hell — as a device for
" getting square" between justice and myself.
Even you, gentle reader, who may be a profligate
— a seven-ways sinner — could satisfy all of my
mind's requirements for justice merely by having
less of heaven, not more of hell than should fall to
your righteous pastor, or to myself.

The road was dusty, and it was hot, because Cen-
tral Asia in July is always hot. But our mounts
were fairly good; the country was green all about
us through the twenty-mile strip of irrigation; the
people were interested and interesting. Altogether
a fair start, — only the recollection of the Colonel's
compound of courtesy and of curtness to worry us.
The first night out we slept happily under the
spreading trees that sheltered an old Kirghiz, having
two wives. He was a rare bird, by the way — for the
Kirghiz is almost universally a monogamic nomad.

Andijan to Kashgar

And now comes the question — how much, O
gentle, general reader, do you want of detail about
a journey across the AlaT Mountains, from Osh, in
Russian Turkestan, to Kashgar, in Chinese Tur-
kestan ? Half a dozen Russian telegraph-engineers,
two small garrisons in Russian Turkestan, one small
garrison in Chinese Turkestan, — so much for the
evidences of fixed civilisation along the two hundred
miles of caravan route between the suburban villages
of Osh and those of Kashgar. The Chinese frontier
officer was more polished, less forceful, than the
Russian post commanders. The only native in-
habitants seen were Kirghiz, perhaps a half-dozen
groups of tents, three or four in a group. We slept
at times in these yurtes, smoky and smelly enough
to make us prefer open-air beds except at most
freezing elevations. The pasturage near the caravan
route seemed not to be used to its full capacity.
Joseph was told by the Sart that the Kirghiz com-
plained of being forced by Russian soldiers to sell
sheep for less than their proper value. Hence, he
said, they had retired to secluded valleys. We
passed many caravans, chiefly those bearing diminu-
tive bales of raw cotton, trifles hoisted over the
mountains by a toss of the horns of bulls rampant
in New York and New Orleans — for surely nothing
less than fifteen cents per pound could pay such
toilsome transportation.

At the top of the Taldyk Pass, 1 1,800 feet above
sea, we gave thanks to the Russian engineer who
had smoothed the zigzag route, and memorial-
ised himself in stone at the dizzy top. Here the
complacent and prophetic Slav may widely gaze

Tibet and Turkestan

upon mountain-desert* already won, and, eastward,
sweep horizons which still salute the throne of far
Pekin. Unless your mind be wholly given to con-
templation' of things abstract and general, or to
things concrete and narrowly personal, you must
feel something of thrill when, after Taldyk's descent,
you stumble into the first Chinese station. The
simple Cossack officer, with whom we ate black
bread three days ago, was commissioned by a magic-
worshipping, devout Christian tyrant in St. Peters-
burg. This courteous yellow man, whose ragged
soldiers light the way with paper lanterns, lives by
the breath of an old woman who guesses at outside
things from Pekin 's thick-shadowed imperial gar-
den. That barren ridge behind is the political
ridge-pole of Asia. On one side are the electric light
and the cherished rifle, on the other the fantastic
lantern and the neglected battle-axe. On which
side shall be found the greater number of units of
happiness per capita of human beings I do not
know. Three hundred years ago it would have
been easy to say on which side could be found the
greater light of human reason and civility and worth
of all kinds save that of savage strength. Where
shall be found fifty years hence the balance of value,
merely as measured by European standards, we may
not know. Playing prophet is but risky business
since Japan began using Christian devices and has
adopted our most popular paraphrase of the Sermon
on the Mount, in which "blessed" is changed to
"cursed," and the whole is spoken in sprightly tones
by field artillery, accents given by magazine rifles,
and the gathered fragments are legs and arms disjecta.

Andijan to Kashgar

We have now our first experience in circumlocu-
tory interpretation from French to Chinese. Joseph,
receiving in French, transmits in his variety of Turki
to our Sart, who repeats in the Kashgar variety to
a local Beg, who roars it in Chinese to our host-
Joseph's general education may have reached that
of a high-school boy ; the Sart and the Beg may be
classed as to book-learning' among the infants.
When my courteous French companion started this
sentence on its travels, "Tell him, Joseph, that in
my country we are deeply interested in the phi-
losophy of Confucius, and are constantly increasing
our knowledge of all Oriental classics," it was
wrecked at the first station out.

Floundering across the Kizil Zu (Red Water) on
camels, our ponies swimming free; drinking cool,
acrid Kumyss on the hot mountain-side, frightening
the upstart marmots into their underground homes ;
urging vainly the Sart to use his falsely credited art
as cook ; encouraging and scolding the inept Joseph,
whose lantern jaws declared that rough riding and
doubtful fare were no longer possible for him— thus
we reached the villages which announced Kashgar,
still three days distant. Food was again plentiful
—chicken, eggs, sheep, fruit and melons now re-
freshed rebellious stomachs, giving complete inde-
pendence of the deceptive Sart. The Turki people
were curious and cringing; the Chinese, masters of
the country, were indifferent, but not ugly. In an
earthquake-wrecked village we climbed to their di-
lapidated little temple, whose gods had not saved
the people from ruin, and were correspondingly
held, it seemed, in light esteem.

30 Tibet and Turkestan

The twelfth day brought its promised reward, —
arrival at Kashgar, — historic, populous, wide-scat-
tered. Nearly three hours we marched our dusty
way, past farms and villages, without interval ; past
Mohammedan cemeteries whose coffined citizens
were slipping down into the great rut which is the
main highway; past groups of Turki workmen,
ditch-digging under Chinese bosses ; past a great mud
fortification wall into the heart of the town, focus
of the oasis that breeds half a million souls — nay,
for what do I know of souls? — half a million bodies.
The small ones— this year's crop — are rolling about
under our horses' hoofs, splashing naked into the
little ditches that wondrously combine the office of
aqueduct and sewer, and in fatal rhythm generate
and destroy the brown masses that can suffer, enjoy,
and die. Looking at lovely white women, elabor-
ately covered, one may doubt a little that crude
saying, "Dust thou art"; but here! — Bah! there "s
the dust, there 's the water. You feel that any one
might have rolled the muck into the little bifurcated
trunks which sprawl everywhere in the spawning
sun.

And now where shall we go? Caravanserais there
doubtless are, but that Europeans should lodge
among natives — that is infra dig., super-dirty,
vexatious to all. Ordinarily you go to any resi-
dent European, if such there be, and ask advice;
or, if you know him, you bluntly ask a roof. My
letter to M, Petrovsky should help us; and as to
Anginieur, is not France friend and ally to great
Russia? The caravan is discreetly halted a little
way from the consular compound. We enter, are

Andijan to Kashgar

shuffled about by a loutish soldier, whom finally we
browbeat into immediate delivery of the letter,
which goes not to M. Petrovsky, who is old and
-ly sleeps at 2 P.M., but to his assistant, a young
officer, fortunately speaking French. We are court-
eously received. Our host is evidently embarrassed
when we ask about quarters; at last, he helplessly
asks if we know Colonel Miles, the British repre-
sentative. "No," I reply, "but of course we shall ;
and may he not be able to direct us to quarters?"
"Yes indeed ! "—This said rather eagerly sent us
straight to our impatient caravan. Again we thread
through narrow bazaars, defenceless gates and blind
alleys, until the British compound is reached.
What moral and physical security one feels on
reaching, in the earth's far-away corners, Eng-
land's straightforward officers, speaking one's native
tongue! No, I am not an Anglomaniac, and I r ve
made a fine list of British faults waiting to be aired ;
but when I think of Sir Rennell Rodd at Cairo,
General Creagh at Aden, Captain Harold at Zeila,
Sir John Harrington and Mr, Baird at Adis Ababa
(Menelik's capital), Major Parker at Roseircs on the
111 Lie Nile, a lot of kind hearts at Khartoum, Miles
here at Kashgar, Colonel Sullivan at Srinagar (in
Kashmir) — then I must make sure that manliness,
kindliness, steadiness, frankness, shall be italicised
as counterpoise to various misdemeanours which the
list shall disclose.

"This is Colonel Miles? "

"Yes."

"This is Captain Anginieur, of the French army,
and I am Mr. Crosby, an American traveller. I

Tibet and Turkestan

have no letters to you, Colonel, but am sure we
have mutual friends in London. We have just
come over from Osh, and would like to know where
we may find lodging in Kashgar.

"Why not stop here with me?"

"Gladly, Colonel."

Such was the beginning of a six days' "at home"
with this sole Britisher in all Turkestan. His mis-
sion is that of sentinel on the picket line of empire.
Uncomplainingly he labours under the awkward
title, "Temporary Assistant to the Resident at
Srinagar for Chinese Affairs." And Consul General
Petrovsky had a habit of saying, whenever questions
arose between British and Russian subjects, "Mr.
Miles, my good friend, we shall discuss this matter,
not because you have any official position justifying
a demand r but because I like you." There was un-
necessary emphasis on the "Mr.," for Miles 's rank
in the Indian army is independent of his temporary
duty. Yet, in a way, M. Petrovsky was right —
Colonel Miles's civil title is an absurd and embarrass,
ing one, save on the theory that London might
in some crisis freely disavow or adopt the acts
of an official in Chinese Turkestan, who is a mere
assistant to an official in "independent" Srinagar,
who is in turn named by an official in Calcutta, who
reports to the Secretary of State for India. The
enjoyment of such independence in Downing Street
may easily outweigh many years of annoyance to
the lonely sentinel in Kashgar.

Colonel Miles helped us much in finding men
and horses for the journey. The latter are easy,
the former are hard, to obtain. The ordinary

Andijan to Kashgar

Kashgari is not adventurous. Our three recruits
for permanent service were: one an Afghan, Mir
Mullah ; one a Ladaki, Lassoo ; and one a half-breed
boy, a Yarkand-Kashmir cross, Achbar by name;
he came at the eleventh hour, was joyously wel-
comed, and as an interpreter for many days strenu-
ously tried us. His vocabulary was painfully
extended from twenty-five up to fifty words, and
one blank stare. Achbar was the only human being
available as interpreter in all the province about us.
Joseph was exhausted; he must return to the soft
care of civilisation in Tiflis. The persons speaking
European languages in Kashgar were the members
of the Russian colony : Colonel Miles and his moon-
shee (clerk), from India; Father Hendricks, Catho-
lic missionary; a Swedish missionary family of
Lutheran persuasion; and Achbar, whose English
had come from another Swedish missionary, now
dead. Ik- had taught the boy to call the Bible
"Angel Book,** and enough of Christian doctrine to
make of him an indifferent polytheist, ready to give
youthful credence to any set of supernatural pre-
sented by any respectable authority.

With all reverence for our Occidental faith, it may
fairly be wished and believed that AcrTbar should
soon be firmly re-established in the faith of his
fathers, since, in the nature of the case, he could
never be other than a hazy, slipshod Christian.
His theology clearly resembled his English. After
two days' labour to teach him the word "now" he
startled me by stolidly saying: "You mean ' at
present.' And when despair had come to close
further exertion on the word "perhaps," there came

Tibet and Turkestan

quietly this: "You mean 'probably.' " So it was
that all simple, basic ideas about God had been
obscured by the good Swede's zeal to superpose
Christ and St. John upon a still vivid background
of early Mussulman teaching. Far from the full
stature of the ideal convert was Achbar, yet he
seemed to be the most complete accomplishment
resulting from years of devout work by the Swedish
mission. One other, indeed, an humble Chinaman,
was thought to be nearly ready to adopt definitely
the Christian title, his inner consciousness being left
to negotiate a compromise like unto that which has
already admirably conjoined Confucianism, Taoism,
and Buddhism into a vague triple control of Chinese
morals.

Lassoo, the Ladaki, was, for our purposes, almost
pure gold. The ways of the sahibs were known to
him as familiarly as his money-pocket, for he had
served in the household of Colonel Miles's predeces-
sor, who had regretfully dismissed him as discipline
for some wrong done to one of his Kashgar wives.
So it was, I remember, with my caravan in Africa
— the cleverest native of the lot left Adis Ababa
under some marital cloud, which should roll away
as we wandered far; while he courted Danger's
face, time might heal the bruised, too numerous
tendrils of his unbroken heart. Must it be ever
thus? Must the sprightly and inventive mind be
found only in the shifting lover? To us Lassoo was
faithful. Whether his fidelity ran to the person or
to the rupee of the Christian dog, his employer, I
know not; but he was steadfast and intelligent in
moments of great trial.

Andijan to Kashgar

Mir Mullah, an eminently respectable merchant
and horse-trader, had threaded the mountain passes
of Afghanistan and Hindostan for many years — yes,
for too many years, as the event proved; when
hardship and danger came the old man's strength
wasted. The only valiant work he could do was
that of prayer, while the need was — but that is
theology again.

CHAPTER III

KASHGAR — THE YELLOW PERIL — TAOTAI AND
CONSUL GENERAL

KASHGAR is the seat of a provincial govern-
ment whose head is a Taotai. His power
extends to that western verge of empire over whose
rough border we have just passed. Among all the
Chinese governors he is farthest removed by distance
from the source of authority in Pekin. To what-
ever difficulty this condition may create is added
that inherent in the task of governing a population
alien in race and religion, and the yet greater diffi-
culty due to the aggressiveness of the neighbour-
ing Russians. Between the Taotai and the throne
there is, in the official hierarchy, one other magnate
— a viceroy, stationed about six hundred miles east-
ward, and having all of Chinese Turkestan within
his administration. As numbers go in Chinese pro-
vinces, this proconsulate cannot be ranked high,
with its one or two million souls, as against an aver-
age of fifteen or twenty millions for the Eighteen
Provinces. But its peculiar constitution and its
exposed situation must give it importance as long
as there exists in Pekin a government cherishing
the prestige of the Great Empire. It was through
this region that Mohammedanism has blazed its way

Kashgar

into China. The older faith there is peaceful, toler-
ant; the younger faith, like its rival in Europe, is
virile, militant, intolerant; whence great wars in
China proper, and revolt here in Turkestan, where
bloody deeds were being enacted in the self-same
epoch with Gettysburg and the Wilderness. The
forty years that have passed since those great days
seem to have worked out, in Western China, a status
for the Mussulman fairly satisfactory to him and to
his neighbour. Doubtless this might also be said
of the Turki Mussulman (for his subjection to China
is of long date), but that here the situation is again
made complex by the "Russian advance." The
importance and the sensitiveness of affairs in Kash-
garia, as they ate viewed in Pekin, seem clearly
manifested by the fact that China has built and
maintains a telegraph line from Pekin to Kashgar —
more than two thousand miles. We were aston-
ished to learn this, more astonished on reflecting
that this work, quite stupendous for China, had
been completed without blowing of trumpets— in-
deed, so quietly that many well-informed Europeans
have never given the matter a thought. It seemed
to me most significant as to the unheralded develop-
ment of material strength which may go on in China
when her own scientifically educated people, or the
headlong Japanese, shall be running in multitudes
to and fro in the land.

Invention's great miracles — telegraphy, telephony
— are thus made an ofTering by America, the young-
est to China, the oldest among great nations.
Over this desert-spanning line, and from its terminus
at Pckin, through the great submarine lines, the

Tibet and Turkestan

heart of Asia may be put in simultaneous pulse
with the heart of America.

It is believed by some that when Asia shall have
eaten of the fruit of the tree of modern knowledge,
there shall arise a Yellow Peril, threatening the
peace of the Caucasian world. That some dis-
turbance of the present balance of things may be
produced seems indeed not unlikely. But shall In-
dustry be affrighted at the prospect of the birth of
more coats, chairs, ploughs, and loaves in a world
which ceases not to find that the appetites of men
(white, black, and yellow) grow with feeding? And
if we are really to be overwhelmed, is there not tariff
and non-intercourse policy to keep us poor? Shall
Morality be affrighted when mothers, all the world
over, shall hear, each the other's common cry of
pain and common speech of love? When Charity in
one clime shall hear and answer the prayer of suffer-
ing in every other? When Honour shall find a mir-
ror, now held up in East and now in West, its
lineaments everywhere the same? Shall Letters be
affrighted when through the magic of the printing-
press the rich stores of temple and of monastery
shall be spread broadcast to feed and inspire thou-
sands of hungry minds? Shall Religion grow pale?
Nay, whoever hath the truth, let him rejoice, for
the way shall be open to the preacher as it never
was in all our dream-haunted past ! It remains
that these yellow men, become gods even as we are,
shall perhaps desire to possess us as we now possess
others. They may enviously study our accom-
plished facts in India, Egypt, Manila, Algiers.
They may dig up the history of the foretime dwel-

Kashgar

lers in the two Americas, Yes, it is true, the strong
shall possess the weak ; to their own good, we say.
Then, when we shall be the relatively weak, our
wisdom should be that of submission. If out of
the long, death-like sleep of old age in the East (so
it seems to some of us) there shall now be born a
new youth, let it attend our senile steps, if so be
we are now going a breaking pace which shall lead
to premature decay. But that reversal of things,
if indeed the Fates shall ever decree it, must be
set off to a date so distant that wisdom refuses its
consideration, and only jest or idle fancy paints the
picture in.

Within the interesting future — say one hundred
and fifty years — any threat of a military movement
of the United East against Europe would result in
a United States of Europe and America—an invin-
cible, probably beneficent union. One might almost
wish for some high heat of war to produce a fusion
in which should be seared to death many childish
differences — childish, yet pregnant with strife and
sorrow. Let the weak become strong — 't will be
easier to establish a balance. Let the weak become
strong — 't will be harder to make markets by the
cannon's roar. Let the weak become strong —
't will be easier to stifle a national avarice when
its gratifications shall be made dangerous.

Taking into account the covetousness and the
kindness that arc in us, the wisdom and the folly,
it appears clear that there can be no condition of
stable equilibrium until there be developed in the
great national units a condition of approximately
uniform strength — military strength, manifest or

Tibet and Turkestan

potential. Now, in respect to military strength,
ignorance of physical science is weakness. If the
Chinese, possessing organisation, intelligence, expe-
rience, patience, and character, but lacking science,
should be put under European rule, it could be only
temporary — they would thus, perforce, get science
and be strong. They will enter the syndicate of
those who rule the weak, And these, the weak, we
shall ever have among us because of certain ineradi-
cable climatic race-differences which will always
cause certain races to be subject to their neighbours
of sterner mould. The great moral and intellectual
qualities which have made the Chinese Emperor to
be the "Elder Brother" to all Eastern Asia suffi-
ciently mark the potentialities of this powerful
people. Until these larger movements, shall have
taken place it is profitable to the occasional Western
traveller to study the dignity, the poise, the civil-
isation of such a man as the Taotai of Kashgar.

To this worthy official we paid due visit, interpre-
tation being done by Colonel Miles's cultivated
moonshee, a Mohammedan gentleman from Lahore,
who tabulated his ancestry through the Prophet to
Adam's self. Conversation ran in well -worn ruts —
health, age, number of children, nativity,— present
objective. When I pointedly asked that we might
have letters of safe-conduct to Khotan and Polu,
the old gentleman simply did n't answer, and soon
began sipping his tea, a decorous signal that the in-
terview was closed. We felt "in our bones" that
the cautious Mandarin wanted to hear from M.
Petrovsky before committing himself. We were, in
a measure, under Colonel Miles's wing, yet, as we

Kashgar

were in no way accredited to him, it was impossible
that he should officially adopt us and ask theTaotai's
good offices. The presence of his moonshee and our
temporary establishment in his quarters went far to
give us good character; yet, after all, we were chance
wanderers, save in so far as the sealed letter to M.
Petrovsky might give to me the harmless character
of an American citizen without a mission, while
Anginieur's claim to be a French officer entitled him
to a certain consideration. But whether our simple
story of accidental association was believed by M.
Petrovsky we never knew. In our first interview
with him, before visiting the Taotai, he had seemed
to warm genially toward us, but utterly discouraged
the venture up the plateau. He made no offer of
assistance save that he would write to his repre-
sentative in Khotan to help us there. Farther than
Khotan, even if so far, he thought we should not
go. If by chance we should reach the inhabited
portion of Tibet he believed we would be killed,
etc.

Now, the old gentleman's conduct was a bit an-
noying, yet reasonable enough from the Russian
point of view. We were fairly under some suspi-
cion as to our motives, and even if the simple facts
were believed, it remained that our presence might
produce complications in a region where Europeans
are events, and where Russia's present preponder-
ance of influence has been expected at any time to
become Russian control. Such a situation is always
delicate until worked to an accepted conclusion.
China is still the actual and effective ruler. Great
Britain is still an eager critic of all Central Asian

Tibet and Turkestan

happenings, and ready, if to her it shall seem good,
to write her criticism in the blood of men. Hence
much discretion, much patience on the part of Rus-
sia. The sixty of M. Petrovsky's consular guard,
and the similar body strangely stationed at Tash-
kurgan, — up there on the shoulder of the Pamirs a
hundred miles away, — must idle away hours, days,
years perhaps, before they shall be told to destroy
the Chinese force, whose mean appearance suggests
that butchers of men and butchers of cattle occupy
the same grade in Chinese philosophy. The Tibet
expedition of the British-Indian Government was
not yet undertaken. Its normal effect would be to
hasten the Cossacks' march of conquest from Kash-
gar to Khotan, as a reprisal at China's expense.
But the Japanese war, on the other hand, must tend
to check him, if for no other reason than that every
spring of action in St, Petersburg is now bent to-
wards Manchuria. Meantime it is not to be desired
by Russia that the minds of the Turkestan native
should, by intrusive travellers, be disturbed from
their simple conceptions. "We must be ruled by
somebody. The rulers of the earth are the Chinese,
who now possess us; the English, who possess
India, and who do not seem much concerned about
us, since there is but one sahib here, and he has no
soldiers ; and the Russians, who possess all the
world to the north of us, and whose officer, with
soldiers and merchants at his back, is able to do
almost as he will with our Chinese masters. Besides
these three great peoples there are none other rulers
of men on earth.*'

Such being the sentiments of a million or more

Kashgar

of docile folk whom you would benevolently exploit
by firm government and an exclusive commercial
system, it appears plain as a pikestaff that vagrant
French and Americans should not be encouraged to
spy out the land and perhaps to create incidents out
of which new ideas might be born. Would Cortez
have welcomed independent English or French
travellers in Mexico while he was preaching to won-
dering Aztecs the doctrine of his master's universal
dominion ? Would the British have left a free latch-
string to indiscriminate Europeans when they had
undone the work of Dupleix in India, and were
considered as special envoys of the gods, irresistible?
Already the Russians have done much political and
commercial pioneering in Chinese Turkestan. Our
international code gives them what we call a "right"
to garner the fruits of seed sown in wild places.

We watched the play between Petrovsky and
Miles with some amusement and much serious
concern as to our plans. The cards ran to Miles,
A parade of other nationalities through Turkestan
could do no harm to British designs, which cannot
reasonably look to conquest north of Tibet. And,
small as was our individual importance, we might a
little disturb the Muscovite program.

The powerful Consul General could probably de-
termine theTaotai's mind for or against us. As to
the result we were left in dangling doubt until the
very morning which we had set for our departure.
Then came the Taotai's smug young secretary bear-
ing letters which we might present to the Ambans
in Yarkand and Khotan, and telling us that other
letters would be written to the chiefs of nomad

Tibet and Turkestan

tribes in the corner of the plateau still under Chinese
direct control, M. Petrovsky also called in formal
fashion, mounted Cossacks riding before and behind
a quaint low carriage which looked homesick. He
said that since he had so promised he would write his
Aksakol (=white-beard=chief of merchants) at
Khotan to advise him of our coming. And, in-
deed, the sleek Andijani who spoke for the Consul
in Khotan was on the qui vh>e and watched us well,
and did naught else. Whether our later misfor-
tunes were in any way connected with the sealed
letter, or were caused by the left hand of Chinese
policy undoing the work of the right hand we never
knew. Most probably 't was only the duplicity of
the timid native Begs which undid us.

A pleasant visit we had from a young Mandarin
of great name, acting as mayor of Kashgar, under
general direction of the Provisional Governor
(Taotai). This young man was the son of a Man-
chu general who reconquered, forty years ago, all
Turkestan from the failing power of Yakoob Beg,
whose rise and fall make the last great epic of ambi-
tion which has been played across these sands and
within these waving oases.

While this delicate-featured, refined, peace-loving
Asiatic was making his call, there came another
caller, another Asiatic (?) whose personality, in its
strong contrast with that of the young mayor,
seemed to present the whole Russo-Chinese ques-
tion. He was a captain of Cossacks, who might
have been the original of the Russian officer in Kip-
ling's powerful sketch. The Man Who Was. He
had entertained us with song and drink, with tossing

Kashgar

us up on the strong arms of his soldiers, who caught
us in breathless fall, as rubber balls are caught ; he
had reviewed military history in masterly order, and
in the two languages we used ; he had declared, in
good-humoured banter, that might is right, that his
people had the might to take what they wished, and
that they wished much of Asia. His manner was
nervous with surcharge of energy; his spirit was
vexed by inaction. He was impatient Aggression.
The young Chinese aristocrat was patient Resist-
ance, and between them Colonel Miles was interested
Peacemaker. A fourth characteristic personality in
the international good-bye assemblage was Father
Hendricks, Hollander by birth, Christian priest by
profession, Mongolian citizen by love of his heart,
dweller in Kashgar by love of change, I suppose.
A good man, a polyglot, a missionary without fol-
lowers, a priest without a bishop, reporting only to
the great one in Rome, and to him only as moved
by the spirit; a European plunged deep into Asia
for thirty years; a lone man dreaming new sciences
out of multitudinous but inaccurate data; hated by
Petrovsky because he represented something other
than Russia; liked by Miles for the same reason,
and because of his goodness, his versatility, and his
loneliness; loved by some of the natives, who con-
sumed his medicines; celebrating mass on a table
whose untidiness measured the loss of one Dutch
trait by a lifetime in Asia. Such was Father
Hendricks.

If his heart harboured any malice, 't was some-
thing impersonal in the way of Russophobia — justi-
fied, he believed, by biblical condemnation. "They

Tibet and Turkestan

are the cursed people of the north," said he. "But
the Russians were not known to the old Hebrews,"
said I, ignorant, "Nay," he answered, "read you
this," Then he must run over to the Swedish mis-
sion, borrow a Swedish Bible, and show me Ezek.
xxxviii., r-4, reading In our King James Version
as follows: "And the word of the Lord came unto
me, saying, Son of man, set thy face against Gog,
the land of Magog, the chief prince of Meshech and
Tubal, and prophesy against him, and say, Thus saith
the Lord God : Behold I am against thee, O Gog,
the chief prince of Meshech and Tubal; and I will
turn thee back, and put hooks into thy jaws," etc.
Now in the Swedish edition, plain as print can make
it, stand the words "Prince of Russ r "" instead of
"chief prince," for reasons good unto Swedish phi-
lologists and unto all who love not the wide-spread-
ing Slav. 1 A great comfort was this to one whose
nature and whose creed forbade that he should curse
the persecuting Petrovsky! Behold, now, him and
his all cursed together by Ezekiel!

The indifference which marks the attitude of all
highly developed peoples toward religion appears in
the relations between Father Hendricks and the
various dramatis persona on our far - away scene.
It is political or personal sympathy which binds
or loosens amity here. If their national or indi-
vidual interests chance to clash, no consuming zeal
for common Christianity can weld together the half-
dozen Europeans found far in a most sequestered

1 1 find our English Revised Version also reads as follows : " , Set
thy face toward Gog t of the land of Magog, the prince of MuM,
Mcihech, and Tubal," etc.

Kashgar

population of unbelievers. The Christian official
will brother to the Mohammedan or Buddhist more
firmly than to his fellow-servant in Christ if so be
that worldly profit cometh from the heathen.

Now if humanity be wider and more vital than
dogma, this subordination of creed to life may be
accounted as progress. Whether it be so rated or
not, it is undoubtedly pleasant to put behind one
the dividing creeds of Christianity and Moham-
medanism, and ride forth merrily as we did, cheek-
by jowl ; Indian moonshee, good Mussulman; Chi-
nese moonshee, good Confucian; Cossack captain,
good Orthodox; Miles, good Anglican; Father
Hendricks and Anginieur, good Catholics; Mr,

(the Swede), good Lutheran; and myself,

good American. And our parting was the parting
of men who liked each other — of mutually helpful
beings thrown together, thrown apart, by the Power
which made your eyes brown or blue and your faith
whatever it may be.

Of this fraternal cavalcade all turned back after
a five-mile gallop save the two Catholics and the
American. Father Hendricks had agreed to travel
with us as far as Khotan — a most fortunate happen-
ing. Achbar was thus coached for two weeks before
it became necessary to put him into play; man-
darins, merchants, and horse-dealers were met in a
variety of tongues; our evening meal was spiced
with a potpourri of mechanics, philosophy, theo-
logy, history, philology, the germs of which were
drawn from Father Hendricks's Latin notes. An-
ginieur and I were unable to assimilate much of the
classic original, being far from our Arma virumqui-

ROBERTA SA r
MEMORIAL PUBU

Tibet and Turkestan

days. But the good Father's French seemed to
have taken on no rust in Central Asia, hence he and
1 were able to dispute our radically divergent views
on nearly all abstract topics, while in philology his
superior wisdom changed discussion into authorita-
live declaration.

In such days and in such ways it is learned how
slight are the material requirements for satisfactory
existence in either one of two planes — that of the
lazy, dirty, sensuous, or that of contemplation.
We, contemplative, were happy in learning new
finite facts about a part of our earth, and in specu-
lations concerning things infin it e, unknowable; and,
being few, we were free from pose, almost free from
vanity. The daily march across the heated desert,
the nightly shake-down in langar (empty road-
house) or in the comfortable mud home of some
village notable, kept body and mind in good me-
chanical condition and produced a sense of solidarity
with stars and sand and trees and men. Without
woman, art, or ambition— those chief elements of
general life — value in living may yet be found, for
a time at least, merely in regulated exercise of body
and mind.

As for the values given by the lazy, dirty, and
sensuous life, they were abundantly, Incontestably
in evidence everywhere about us. Leprosy may
claim its fiftieth, goitre its fifth, unseen disease its
third, dirt its four-fifths, political tyranny its nine-
tenths, yet let me fill the belly, destroy ambition.
and pour sunshine over all, and I shall guarantee
something that a jury of wise men must call happi-
ness — though not the variety which grows in New

Kashgar

England, yet a modest, evenly distributed growth,
which might be called "Asia's early and late spe-
cial," and which, when the years shall be old, may
grow a little in Southern Europe, A nearly related
variety may now be seen in Mexico.

The cleanest-looking people, and the handsomest,
whom we saw in Turkestan were the Hindoo mer-
chants. Of these a prosperous colony is found in
each of the three big cities — Kashgar, Yarkand,
Khotan. In the two latter, we were met by a com-
mittee of these gentle-folk, whose official leader or
Aksakol, named by Colonel Miles, prepared our
quarters, sent us fruit and sweetmeats, aided us in
purchasing horses and provisions, and in all ways
showed us as much hospitality as is permitted in a
world of caste, which builds walls between the most
loving friends.

These Hindoo merchants are the bankers of
Turkestan. Frightful as is the route which connects
Kashmir with Yarkand, it is yet so much shorter
than the lines reaching toward the far eastern centres
of Chinese wealth, that the shrewd celestial leaves
the field largely to his southern rival. Because of
the railway to Andijan, only twenty days by camel-
caravan from Kashgar, Russian goods and Russian
money are coming rapidly into competition with
Chinese and Hindoo products. A branch of the
Russo-Chinese Bank, recently established at Kashgar,
(how the world changes!) gave me Russian gold on
a New York letter of credit. This Muscovite move-
ment, however, is slow as yet to cross the sands
stretching between Kashgar and Yarkand. One
sole Russian was said to be in the latter city, — a

50 Tibet and Turkestan

cotton buyer, — but he was some sort of Asiatic
Russian. No true European residents are found
east of Kashgar. At Yarkand you are in Asia, run
qttt {a. Our best acquisition made here was Mo-
hammed Joo — Kashmir man, Mohammedan horse-
trader, follower of Captain Deasey in his journey
across Western Tibet and Turkestan. He had just
come down from the Himalayas — a week's softening
in Yarkand was enough for such a sturdy traveller.
Danger and toil at twelve dollars per month were
preferred to inglorious ease and nothing per day.
He and Lassoo live in our memories as associate
heroes and saviours. We learned later that the
Kashmir man generally is, in North India, con-
sidered to be a commercial craven, fair prey for the
warlike Dogra people, who now rule him. But
Mohammed Joo had sucked strength into his bones
from a thousand mountain-sides. In the morning
he rose with might. The day was filled with his
good counsel ; by watchfulness he brought peace for
the night. Whether his heart would be stout against
the glint of steel or the loud report of powder, I do
not know, but as against the menace of starvation
and death in loneliness, his courage failed not. And
what a master of horses! He soon out-general led
good Mir Mullah at every point and modestly took
away from him, at our direction, the title and func-
tion of caravanbashi. The wonders of trans-
portation contained in the history of Asiatic horde-
movements become in part understandable, when
one sees Gordian knots untied without swords;
horses made to ascend impossible mountains, yet
without Pegasus* wings; hoofs shod under con-

■

Russian chapel, after the earthquake — Andijan.

Kashgar

ditions that would discourage Vulcan's self; men
plodding across gasping deserts, and again across
shivering snows without the protection, in either
case, which would be given to a manikin in Europe;
and through it all a patience which knows not
neurasthenia.

CHAPTER IV

KHOTAN— DREAMS OF THE PAST— DOUBTS OF THE
PRESENT

REINFORCED by Mohammed Joo and another
helper (his pay was five dollars per month),
we fared forth from Yarkand and in nine days
reached Khotan, last of the big oases in Turkestan.
The two hundred miles intervening between these
cities, like the shorter stretch between Kashgar and
Yarkand, is chiefly desert. The big towns and the
little intermediate ones may all be said to lie on the
irregular border of the Taklamakan desert, which
the general reader may perhaps best consider as the
south-western corner of the Gobi. The streams that
fall from the Alai and Kuen Lun ranges crawl as
best they can across the sandy wastes. The smaller
are lost. The larger conjoin to make the Tarim,
and eventually reach Lob-nor, a great inland basin.
The towns are found not far from the mountain
range, whose cold white heights may be seen to the
south, as one swelters across the hot sands. This
distant line is about sixteen thousand feet high, the
desert from which we gaze is not more than four
thousand. Some of the reaches of sand are close to
forty miles in width — f*. <r. , from irrigated tree to
irrigated tree. In certain exposed stretches where
the wind has a habit of putting the traveller into a

Khotan

deep night of sand -clouds, we found stakes driven
where the trail ought to be — a sort of ratsed-letter-
print for the blind and groping caravan.

At intervals of about fifteen miles the Chinese
Government has had langars built, houses of stone,
without furniture, but offering welcome shelter from
sun or snow or sand. If near a farm, one could buy
horse provender, perhaps chickens or a sheep. We
paid the attendant fifteen cents per night for this
shelter — covering ten men and as many horses.
Generally the same sum was paid as rent to a private
owner for our rooms and a court where our men and
horses wete lodged. Chickens usually cost five cents
each ; wood for cooking dinner and breakfast, an-
other five cents — a little more if in the blank desert.
Forage for horses cost about ten cents per day per
head. The scale of expense is pleasing, is it not?
Trading generally seems all retail — straight from
producer to consumer without intervention of the
wholesaler. The turn-over is quick, I fancy. The
stock may be incredibly small. While developing
Achbar's English I one day painfully conversed
thus:

*' What did you do before you came with us? "

"Merchant."

"In the bazaar? "

"Yes."

"Who bought your goods when you left? "

"My brother,"

"How much?"

"Nineteen tenga."

Now a tenga in Chinese Turkestan is worth about
five cents, so it appears that Achbar's daily bread

Tibet and Turkestan

was made from the profit on a stock worth ninety-
five cents.

During a bad quarter of an hour of wounded
vanity, I wondered whether in the universally re-
duced scale of things the native estimation of my
honor's worth had likewise shrunk to the dimensions
of a rupee. It happened a few miles out of Khotan,
when we were met by a committee of the Hindoo
merchants, all eager to do honour to the friends of
Miles Sahib, who doubtless were mighty sahibs
themselves. As each man advanced, dismounted to
my saddle, there were many "Salaam, salaam,
Sahib," and then I felt a palmed coin drop into my
hand from each welcoming Hindoo grasp. It was
instantly returned, and accepted, without a word on
either side. My rising indignation was well dis-
sembled until it quite disappeared in the light of the
explanation given by Father Hendricks.

'T was tribute money offered to their lord — a
pretty compliment of which the most appreciated
element is the giver's confidence that the coin will
not be kept. Would any save the satiated High*
born release the rupee in his grasp ? What a gallery
of pictures was opened to the mind by that touch of
Indian silver on the palm of the Man on Horseback !
I am no longer an humble, khaki-clad, peaceful
traveller, with but a dozen ponies and armoured
only in the courtesy of a Chinese Taotai and of a
British Assistant to the Resident at Srinagar for
Chinese Affairs. Nay, I am a great emperor, my
name it is Timour, it is Aurungzeb, it is Clive; I
am clad in the dress of pomp and of power. In my
hand is a sword which drinks men's blood. For

Khotan

escort there rides behind me an army in myriads.
My will is their law. In my heart is the lust of do-
minion and glory. Suppliant to my knee are come
these merchants — thousands of them — from Lahore,
Amritzar, Delhi, Lucknow, Benares, from a hundred
cities of the plain are they come, begging of me the
privilege to live, urgently praying that, for a price
paid to me, they may have their lives, their wives,
their children, their goods, all the things that were
their own until I came, until in the name of the
great gods and by might of the warriors whom the
gods gave me as a sure sign of my divine agency, I
had declared that the land with all its fatness of
men and of beast and of grain, was mine. Where-
upon I had killed many of the men (what matters
it? they must soon rot), and am now permitting
these to live, upon strict condition that they support
myself and my army, even as is meet for the Heaven-
born and his friends. And in this brown mad city
of Khotan I shall erect a great palace; shall hang it
with silken rugs, for the Khotanese slaves are famous
rug-makers; and shall establish a harem of delight,
for the women here are reputed fair above the wo-
men of all the land. Thus it was in the days that
are now as dreams. Thus it is now. Thus it shall
be again. When the great conquering lord is also a
great administrator, able to make a system by which
all the rupees shall closely come to his treasury,
whence they may go out as sufficient largess to the
small lords — then are these small lords men of
honour, like the English officials of to-day, spurning
the surreptitious silver. If the conqueror knows
not the art of the exchequer, and has not the

Tibet and Turkestan

practices of system at ised official generosity, then the
small lord welcomes the furtive coin, like the Eng-
lish official of yesterday, the Chinese official of to-
day, or the American alderman. Therefore the
Hindoo who honoured me by presenting a rupee
which, he well believed, would not lose the warmth
of his own palm ere it would be returned from mine,
had marked me as a satiated sahib.

When Father Hendricks had explained that I had
been complimented, not insulted, and when I had
come back from meditating upon the troubled his-
tory which the custom of the tribute money sug-
gested, I enjoyed all the more our cheerful entry into
ancient Khotan, survivor of many sister cities now
asleep under the moving sands. The welcoming
escort, eight or ten well-mounted, well-dressed men,
galloped bravely along, their white turbans and
bright-hucd silken "Sunday clothes," conspicuous
and gay in contrast with the dirty cottons of the
increasing stream of natives flowing in and out of
the busy central bazaars. Quite in advance, with
much show of zeal and authority, rode the Russian
Aksakol, an Andijani, a trans- Ala'i Turkestani, and
here on the dusty road to do us honour and much
lip-service. He had gone even farther than the
Hindoos to meet us, had seemed to take possession
of us, but we learned from Mir Mullah, who had
been sent on one march ahead, that it was the Hin-
doo, not the Andijani, who had placed at our dis-
posal a large house, with garden and court.

The appearance of this smart-looking chap, and
his many protestations, had much surprised us, until
we learned that he had been ordered by M. Pe-

Khotan

trovsky to meet us and offer his help. At news of
this, remembering the cautious, ineffectiveness of
the Consul General at Kashgar, we expressed grati*
tude, but were the more content to feel the Hindoo
at our side. Father Hendricks was keen to discon-
cert the Andijani, particularly when the latter prof-
fered to present us to the Amban, to his very good
friend the Amban.

"Thank you," said our wily man of God, in
Turkestan i, "but he is my good friend also — it is I
who will present these sahibs." Then, to us, in
French: "The rascal! He wants to take you in
leading-strings and with blinders, but I am sharper
than two Andijanis. It is true I do not know this
Amban, but his predecessor, who died suddenly of
apoplexy two years ago, was one of my best friends;
that is enough truth for this man j we shall not let
Pctrovsky beat us — we shall win ! "

We were still uncertain as to whether the way
would be left clear for us to go to Polu, a village on
the Kuen Lun slope, and thence up to Tibet. The
Amban of Khotan governed this Polu territory, and
we were in his hands. What instructions had been
given by M. Petrovsky to his Aksakol we did not
know. Father Hendricks, in the double zeal of his
friendship for us and his almost-animosity toward
the Russian, moved on the very ragged edge of
policy in his rejection of the Andijani's obtrusive
aid. Even to his saintly mind, satisfaction came
from pitching French invective in the very face of
the unconscious Aksakol, who curvetted in yellow
silk dignity and drove the common people befo
our cavalcade as we splashed over irrigation ditch«

Tibet and Turkestan

crawled over the occasional fearsome little bridge,
shied from a wayside beggar, disappeared into the
man-high, centuries-old ruts which are roads; and
finally along a well-shaded avenue, marked by the
dull mud garden walls, we get into the maze of
alleys, paths, streets, which for more than two
thousand years has been a well-known breeding-
place of men. From the main bazaar, where a
submissive but curious crowd can scarcely let us
pass, we turn into an alley, skirting an empty en-
closure whose stench quite staggers us. We thread
our way between lines of expectant horse-holders,
then enter the gate of a respectable court, flanked
by roomy quarters for our men, and closed by a re-
ception platform. This is under cover, and consti-
tutes the front part of the building in which are four
good rooms — the quarters for the sahibs; back of
those rooms, a garden of fruit trees and some flowers,
all growing in thick disorder. Personal cleanliness
one does see among high-class Asiatics, but general
neatness, order, decorum, in all surroundings — that
is European, We were very comfortable, however;
our bedding was soon put in its proper corner, and
a few rickety chairs were found for our use, this
house having already received Sven Hedin, Dr.
Stein, Captain Deasey, and perhaps other white
men before us. As the two Americans (Mr. Morse
and Mr. Abbot) who had preceded me in Turkestan
had not gone as far east as Khotan, that ancient
city now felt its first thrill from contact with the
Very New.

To fleece the sheep bearing wool-of-gold is a
hereditary right of all communities small enough to

Khotan

be sensibly disturbed by the sheep's demands for
food and shelter. Yet we think that in Yarkand
and Khotan our purchases were made at rates not
inordinately above the market. Our ordinary ponies
cost an average of about $17. For special mounts
of excellent blood we went as high as $35, and in
one case $50. Big coats of undressed sheepskin,
carrying the wool, cost about $3 each ; native shoes,
a sort of high-quartered moccasin, cost fifty cents
each. Saddles of painted wood, with excellent felt
pads, complete with girths, stirrup, and bridle, cost
$to. Pack-saddles, shaped like a long letter U and
filled with straw (ah, how it burned up there on the
cold plateau, when the horse lay stiff on the sand !),
cost about one dollar each. Wheat was approxi-
mately forty cents per bushel, and the bread made
by the natives was excellent and seemed to be abun-
dantly provided in the bazaars of all considerable
places. Meat also, in the large towns, was appar-
ently plentiful, market and butchery being generally
combined in one unedifying shop.

Silk carpets, for which in old days Khotan was
famous, are not as fine as those made in Persia,
Even here the mineral dye has done its meretricious
work. We saw a very big carpet in the making for
some equally big mandarin. Part of its hundred
feet of length was rolled around a beam resting on
the ground, thence rising to a yard-arm fixed athwart
the top of a tall tree-trunk. Forty feet of width ex.
posed a brilliant but well controlled design. The in-
dustrious workmen sit under a rainless sky and quietly
weave the giant fabric. What clattering of looms,
what paling of faces, what straining of nerves would

60 Tibet and Turkestan

be the price of the mandarin's luxury If he and his
carpet were of our manufacture? Rugs of raw silk,
not fine in any way, and about five feet by nine
cost us $r2 each; rather dear, we thought. But if
ever there was soreness of heart caused by Khotan-
ese prices there came a day which salved and healed
it all, a day when I bought a mass of old paper,
mere scraps are many of the pieces, but so old, and
so miraculously preserved with their messages from
the dead \

Dead twelve hundred years ago are they who
wrote the strange characters and fashioned the
strange clay heads whose images you see in illustra-
tions here. Forgotten are the societies to which
those dead belonged. Buried in the desert sands
are the cities in which those societies dwelt. Choked
and obliterated are the streams which gave to those
cities the water of life. Can the busy, noisy present
spare a moment to hear the story of the silent
past ?

In 1895-96 Sven Hedin discovered ruins of ancient
dwellings in the Taklamakan desert of Eastern (or
Chinese) Turkestan. These ruins are in no sense
impressive from the architect's point of view, being
quite similar to the ordinary Turkestan dwelling of
to-day — plaster or adobe around wooden frames.
But historically they are of prime interest. For
testimony is thus given that civilisation once existed
In regions which are now quite uninhabitable be-
cause they are completely without water. As the
distance of the ruins from present watercourses is
too great to justify the supposition of irrigation
ditches stretching from the one to the other, we are

■

Khotan

forced to conclude that the same great sand move-
ments which destroyed the towns must have resulted
in a shifting of the stream-beds which were once the
source of life.

In addition to the sites discovered by Sven Hedin
in several great journeys, others have been found
by Dr. M. A. Stein of the Indian Educational Ser-
vice. His admirable work at a number of points
around the modern city of Khotan, together with
the philological research of Prof. Hoerule, now at
Oxford , may be taken as the basis of a special body
of learning which we shall call the archaeology of the
sand-buried cities of Turkestan.

It may seem strange that even in Khotan one
must be on guard against forgery in ancient manu-
scripts. Yet Dr. Stein, by close cross-questioning,
forced confession from a clever native, who for
several years, and until 1901, fed the Aksakols, and
through them the great museums in London and
St. Petersburg, with mysterious bits of yellow paper
over which the wise men vainly studied. They were
particularly puzzled, and at last made suspicious
by the fact that a number of different alphabets, all
unknown, were represented in these cabalistic writ-
ings. Now, alphabets are generally less numerous
than languages, and when Dr. Stein, fresh from his
own personal unearthings, saw that the genuine
manuscript showed no letters similar to those that
had been coming from this industrious forger, he
was able to confound him and turn him over to the
mandarin for punishment.

The true manuscripts are hard enough for the
paleographs, since they seem to contain, in separate

Tibet and Turkestan

pieces, three distinct languages — one is Sanskrit,
one a language simply called Central Asian, and
Prof. Hoerule, to whom I showed the bundle bought
by me, says a third language, not yet deciphered,
also appears in some of the fragments.

Whether all the leaves in the manuscript as handed
to me had been taken from the same site, Father
Hendricks could not learn. Those in Sanskrit are
almost wholly Buddhist sacred literature, and they
constitute the bulk of the whole. Their approxi-
mate date is 750 a.d. The other fragments have
not yet been studied sufficiently to fix a date.

Prof. Hoerule, in the short afternoon which we
spent together at Oxford, was able to determine
only this as to the non-sacred, non-Sanskrit pieces
— that they seemed to contain a contract for agri-
cultural materials, I hope some of our scholars may
be interested to probe deeper. Prof. Hoerule was
good enough to say that he would be glad to corre*
spond with any one desiring the aid of his work,
which stands almost alone in this field. As it is not
probable that other examples of these finds will be
seen in this country for some time, I have placed
these in the Congressional Library, with request that
they be made available, as far as possible, to any
inquiring paleograph.

The discoveries thus far made indicate that during
a period of about four hundred years there was a
progressive diminishment of the habitable area. It
is ever shrinking toward the sources of the streams,
which find it ever more difficult to fix a constant
course across the wind-swept sands. Thus we see
the desert as destroyer, the desert as preserver, but

Khotan 63

as preserver only of the empty husks of that life
which for a season was permitted to Sourish.

These fatal movements, however, were not cata-
clysmic. There is no reason to suppose that our
forgotten brethren of the destroyed oases were
smothered instantly, as were those of Pompeii or
Martinique. There was, perhaps, time to starve
through many years until, hopeless, they aban-
doned home and farm to seek some friendlier spot
where they might meanly support their diminished
numbers.

Some unconsidered trifles they left behind, to be
folded in the warm bosom of the sand while the
centuries moved on. These we now cherish as
mementos of that drama, intimate to each one of
us — the drama of human life and death.

CHAPTER V
ON TO POLU— AND THE LURE OF THE UNKNOWN

A CHEERFUL, probably a sincere individual
we found the Chinese Amban of Khotan,
He urged us not to go to Polu, the village which
should mark the beginning of our ascent to the
great plateau. He thought it foolish to try un-
known dangers, when Ladak, our nominal objective,
could be reached by the arduous but familiar route
via Yarkand, Whether or not we should have
frankly told him that we wanted to make a try to-
ward Lhasa, I do not know. Father Hendricks
thought not. He believed we would not be per-
mitted to even start for Central Tibet as our avowed
objective, nor, thought he r could we try to provision
for so long a journey without arousing suspicion.
So we talked Ladak— a province once belonging to
Tibet, now lately stolen away by the Maharajah of
Kashmir — and thought Rudok, a village in terri-
tory that is still Tibetan, and where we hoped to
reprovision ; and where, if pressure of time required
it, Anginieur, whose year's leave approached its end,
could start for Ladak, and I might try again for the
East, eventually returning to Ladak,

The Amban advised, but did not command; and
after a four-days' stop in Khotan, we were off one
fine day with Father Hendricks, the Hindoo Aksa-

„

o
JFlm- ^|

On to Polu

kol, and a collection of Begs escorting us to a big
surburban bazaar about five miles from the town.
Then came horseback good-byes, our hearts quite
upset at leaving the good priest behind us, and we
were away to struggle with the desert, the mount-
ain, the deathly cold, and with Achbar.

Think of it — your comfort, and, as befell us ere
many moons, your life, depending on the painful
marshalling together of about fifty words over the
empty parade-ground of a boy's mind ! That we
came out alive has been a marvel to us— that Achbar
lives, is a double marvel.

'T was a week to Polu, much like the earlier desert
march, except that the oases became narrower as we
entered the rougher foot-hill country, and the human
type became also rougher and more sturdy. Those
whom we met en route were shepherds driving
sheep, goats, and inferior yaks down to the Khotan
abattoir. The yak of moderate altitudes is doomed
to slaughter. His usefulness as a moving machine
is in the high places. In every village we were hos-
pitably received, plenteous food was purchasable;
often there were offerings of fruit, apparently with-
out thought of pay. No Chinese, either official or
private, were seen after leaving Khotan, but the
Amban's messenger announced our coming and gave
directions as to our privilege of travel. The general
kindly conduct of the people toward us seemed,
however, to be wholly unofficial.

In Polu we hurried our final preparations for ascent
to the plateau, spurred by fear of some complication
with the authorities, and by desire to cover as much
ground as possible before being forced to ma'

Tibet and Turkestan

the passes ere the winter set in. Our haste was also
is part due to the mere fascination one feels in
affronting the unknown — as such. Why, by the
way, may not this sentiment, of common occurrence
in respect to things mundane, offer an element of
character which, if carefully "bred to," should take
away all the terrors of journeying to the unexplored
land called Death?

The village was not entirely a stranger to Euro-
peans. Seven years ago it had sheltered Captain
Grombtchevsky of the Russian army while he sur-
veyed the tortured country around it, possibly
dreaming of Muscovite empire, to be won in peril
and suffering by a soldiery that thinks not, but
obeys. Przhevalsky also reached it from the north.
Both the Russian travellers considered the place as
an impossible starting-point for long journeying on
the plateau. Then the fated Frenchman, Dutreuil
du Rhins, with his brave companion, M. Grenard,
twice visited Polu during their unhappy but fruitful
travels* Captain Deasey, in 1901, again put Polu
on the map, and as far away as 1886 Carey had
descended from the plateau by way of the wretched
river-bed which we were to climb. It is this absurd,
but possible, trail between the plateau and the
lower desert, this slanting fissure in the northern
slope of the Kucn Lun range, which gives to Polu
its geographic prominence.

Even while we were still bearing the scrutiny of
many curious eyes, it was announced that another
white man was in Polu, and we wondered greatly
how this had come to pass in the very jumping-off
place of Turkestan, for we had heard no rumour of

On to Pol u

a European in the hundreds of miles traversed since
we left Kashgar. Soon he came to our quarters,
truly a white man, a Russian; but whether a man
born in Siberia and never west of the Ural Mount-
ains, should be called European or Asiatic let each
determine as he will. A genteel chap he seemed,
and kindly, as we had reason to know when he gave
us Chinese money for Russian gold. His mission
was a queer one. On the surface, he had no other
occupation in life than to astound the natives by a
graphophone performance — a polyglot machine that
spoke Russian mostly, but also gave echoes of the
Boulevards and of the Bowery — words and music
that almost denied the existence of the deep Asiatic
world around us. Through a clever Andijani our
Russian friend seemed to be presenting the grapho-
phone as a miracle of his own people. No fee was
charged, at least while we were present, nor did it
seem possible that the venture into these remote
and small villages could have a commercial motive.
Rather it seemed political propaganda— eccentric,
childish, but perhaps effective. Had he been sent
by M. Petrovsky to follow our trail a bit? Or was
the probability of meeting him the secret of the
Consul General's opposition to our eastward wander-
ing? Certainly he and the Andijani would not be
holding hither and thither across the Turkestan
desert without knowledge and consent of M. Pe-
trovsky. And then, when later our troubles began
— but why speculate thus in the trackless air? More-
over we learned, the second day out, of a sounder
and more familiar reason than political misgiving to
explain such double-dealing as may have been meted

Tibet and Turkestan

out to us. 'T was lust for gold that inspired the
first limping effort of the natives to scale the rough
valley of the tumbling stream above Polu. Guided
in part by the dead bodies of their predecessors, in
part by the dizzy, man-made trail, the patient don-
keys strive up and down the gorge, laden, down-
ward, with the placer "concentrates," upward with
bread and tea for the score or more of Turkestani
toilers who do the bidding of their Chinese masters.

One group of gnome-like miners appealed to us,
through Achbar, lamenting their enforced stay away
from the village, and praying the sahibs to intervene
with the Kitai (Chinese) in their behalf. But the
men did not seem hungry or overworked, and we
left them, absorbed as we were in trouble of our
own. Their methods, compared with placer work
which I had chanced to see in Mexico, California,
and Alaska, appeared very crude. The number of
worked-out pockets, multiplied by their evidently
small rate of daily progress, attested long usage.
The village tntrcpSt showed no sign of garnered
wealth from the operations, which must be a strict
government monopoly* let out, perhaps, on some
royalty basis to the Amban, one hundred and twenty
miles away in Khotan.

Looking back now upon the troubles which befell
us after our departure from Polu, and which seemed
to be bom of treachery, I am reminded of sim-
ilar troubles occurring when I chanced to stumble
into a gold-bearing territory far in the interior of
Abyssinia. As in the present case, I knew nothing
of the gold until close upon it. But the local digni-
tary, a handsome, courtly Ras — or duke — fairly

On to Polu

suspected me of the universal cupidity which marks
us all, and felt that even Menelik's passport was not
sufficient warrant for permitting a white man to
enter territory theretofore unknown to our race.
Fearing to contravene the King's authority, con-
cerned because I insisted upon going to a village
which to me was only the outpost of an unknown
territory, but to him was known as a native gold
market, he finally resorted to deception, telling me
of impossible trails and of the fearsome Shankalis,
not yet thoroughly subdued, he said, by Abyssinian
arms. "I love you as a brother," said he; "you
tell me that you have a wife and children whom you
love; then for your sake and for theirs, I tell you,
do not go to Gomer." He furnished me with an
intelligent guide — and evidently told him to lead
me away from the desired village.

Fortunately, the map and compass showed me
that we were being drifted north instead of properly
to the south ; the guide repeated the stories of im-
possible roads, then when I persisted he yielded and
looked troubled. About this time came two run-
ncrs, Jewish-looking Abyssinians, I remember, an-
nouncing that, wherever I may have been thus far
taken by the guide, I was to now know that I
should go where I chose, and not where the guide
willed. The "Duke" had probably had time to re-
ceive assurances from Menelik that he really meant
me to go anywhere along the Blue Nile, Then the
whole thing came out. We reached Gomer by some
of the best trails that fell to me in Africa. There
were no threatening Shankalis, but the natives were
trading gold in the sky-covered market, filling the

jo Tibet and Turkestan

dust into quills for one measure, and weighing small
nuggets against pebbles for another. Moreover, my
interpreter found that Gomer also boasted another
lucrative trade, which the Ras fairly supposed should
be concealed from the European, — for have not the
white men cajoled Menclik into some sort of agree-
ment to suppress the slave trade in his realm? But
his great vassals, far in the interior, where the
troubling European had never been seen, feel no
hesitation in maintaining the patriarchal relation of
master to such Shankalis or other low tribes as may
sell themselves or be seized in war.

Now, the Ras did not like to lie to me, I feel sure
of that, for he was very much a gentleman ; but in
statecraft, alas! who is spotless? He fenced with a
lie, while seeking a sure footing between new policy
on the one hand and consecrated tradition on the
other. So perhaps it was at Polu, We knew no-
thing of their wretched little placers (they may be
direfully rich for aught I know), but when, within
the short period of twenty years, four different sets
of white men poke into an almost impassable valley
and spy at things through tubes and are seen to
write in books every night, is it not fair to presume
that they are possessed of the Devil of gold-love,
which is known to enter white and black and brown
and yellow hearts all alike? And if you are snugly
ensconced in life as the Beg of Polu, making by the
sweat of the miner's brow an honest living for your
hard-earned wives and children, would you not feel
constrained to set a pitfall under the feet of a spy-
ing stranger? Ras Worke, Lord of marches in far
Godjam, and you, humble Beg of little Polu! a

On to Polu 71

great circle's quadrant separates you in space, a
hundred kowtows separate you in social rank, but
you stand together in one white man's memory as
having given him, each of you, a bushel of trouble
for an even bushel of reasonable suspicion against
him !

Now, the things which the Beg did, or inspired,
or seemed to inspire, were these : the desertion of
the head-and-tnil holders for our ponies before the
plateau was reached; the disappearance of the
donkey -caravan, bearing two-thirds of our grain-
supply, of which a part was recovered; and the de-
sertion of our guide before he had taken us to an
agreed point on the plateau, beyond which neither
he nor we knew the way, but which we wanted as a
tic-point on the map. It all smelled of treachery.
But one never knows. We dealt through the un-
speakable Achbar. There was room for some
misunderstanding.

The assistant caravan-men, eight in number, did
excellent work for three days, fording the ice-cold
stream scores of times, legs bare, coats soaked in the
swirling torrent, no possibility of warming their half-
frozen limbs. Then, all the frightful steps saving
the last two having been surmounted, they disap-
peared one after the other. The caravan was badly
strung out — impossible to watch them. Hence
Achbar was told to promise backsheesh when the
end should be gained. Their regular pay, fifteen
cents per day, had been deposited with the Beg.
The backsheesh would have nearly doubled it.
The donkey men started away from Polu ahead
of us. We stipulated that they should take

Tibet and Turkestan

their burdens of grain, together with a live sheep
and the bread-supply of one of our regular men,
up to the top of the pass, thus relieving our
own ponies. These were now sixteen in number,
and their strength must be husbanded against the
unknown, but surely great, demands which awaited
them.

We passed the donkeys the second day out on
our way up ; they were struggling bravely against
mighty odds. We were harassed during four try-
ing days, from Polu to the pass: horses falling in
the torrents and slipping on the narrow trail, men
and beasts breathing harder as we climbed into the
thin upper air; sahibs as well as servants sleeping
in holes in the ground or in the open cold, because
all were too tired to mend a broken tent-pole. But
at last it was over, and we were camped about ten
miles beyond the pass, which looks northward over
all Turkestan and southward over the far-rolling,
mountain-marked plateau of Tibet. We were
warmed by a splendid sun ; the waters of a little
lake shone at our feet, the tent was cosily set, there
were grass-roots from which fire could be had to
boil a pot of water for brewing tea, and for the
softening of a hare which Anginieur had killed at
fifteen thousand feet elevation; wild ducks and
geese invited us to make resounding shots in the
empty waste; we were tired, but happy, and wc
waited for the donkeys. Each one of us in turn
played Sister Anna, mounted on some bare hillock
and far-gazing across the desert which closed around
us. No signs of life save an occasional hare and a
troop of wild dogs. These must have been a hungry

On to Polu

lot, as we saw no prey for them during several days'
march, save one wild horse.

A day and a half we remained in the lazy lap of
repose. Then the sky clouded, literally and figur-
atively. Each meal given to men and horses meant
a shortening of the possible journey across the in-
hospitable region which Mohammed Joo described
as "Adam Yok," — "There is no man," — and which
certainly extended a hundred miles or more In every
direction. Two good men were sent back to search
for the truants. They took three ponies, and on
the next day returned, quite played out, but in a
measure triumphant. No hide or hair of man or
donkey had been seen, but they found, cast down
by the trail-side, a part of our grain and our sheep,
its throat having been thoughtfully cut. The miss-
ing grain may have been stolen, or, more probably,
lost in the torrents. The three ponies were just
able to bring the salvage. On taking stock we
found about a thousand pounds of grain. If each
horse were given four pounds a day we were good for
fifteen days. If we found occasional grass, or if we
shot some horses as their loads were consumed,
we could hold out yet longer. If we had no bad
luck we ought to reach Rudok in about twelve
days. As to the men, we were provisioned for
thirty days.

Perhaps we should have gone back, made a row,
gotten more grain, and made a fresh start. But the
trail behind us was a fearsome thing, worse now by
reason of a snow-fall since the ascent, and we could
not be sure of better treatment a second time. If
we were to make a try at the plateau, it seemed best

Tibet and Turkestan

to push on ; we might reach Rudok or meet nomadic
Kirghiz. So off we started.

Our guide, Caliban's double, had been ugly from
the moment we crossed the pass, and Mohammed
Joo had thumped him a little to keep him from
balking. He was, or pretended to be, ill; remem-
bering that the mountaineers are occasionally sub-
ject to nausea when taken to unusual elevations, we
put Caliban on a pony, though none of our own
men complained of anything more serious than
shortening of the breath. We were then at an
elevation of about sixteen thousand feet. It seemed
wise to tie our Mercury to a less volatile element,
and Mir Mullah was chosen for the r6le of anchor
by night and shadow by day. Except for the cords
that bound his legs to Mir Mullah's the fellow was
well treated, and was promised backsheesh, besides
the unpaid half of his hire, if he duly led us past
Baba Hatun, an ancient, deserted Tibetan fort, to a
point which had been agreed upon by Mohammed
Joo and the Beg, and which we hoped to identify
on the map. We were therefore disgusted and
troubled when at the end of two long marches from
the lake the guide was understood to say that we
had already left Baba Hatun to the rear. Remon-
strance was useless. We were told that the Beg
had ordered us to be taken by another road, but
that we should reach the other agreed point in two
days. I remembered similar trouble in Africa. Not
infrequently and not unwisely the simple native re-
fuses to take explorers into his country if it has
heretofore been free from the curiosity that finally
upsets him. We wanted to be fair, and were forced

On to Polu

to be patient. When we pitched camp at the end
of a day's tortuous march Caliban was more cheer-
ful than usual, chatting with our men in human
fashion. The next morning Mir Mullah awoke with
a free leg — Caliban had vanished. With only a
crust of bread he started alone and on foot across
the trackless and bitter cold desert. His good
humour had probably resulted in a loosening of the
bonds that held him to Mir Mullah, who now could
only sheepishly report that he had slept heavily and
knew nothing of the escape. The man safely re-
gained Polu, as wc learned months later when in-
quiry was made through Mr. MacCartney, now
representing Great Britain at Kashgar. And our
complaint of desertion is answered by Caliban's
statement that we were forcing him to follow a bad
road! Poor Iambi Now, indeed, was the summer
of our content made dismal winter by this inglorious
son of Belial. He had bestowed us at the end of a
valley, whose blackened volcanic sides gave it a
more than usually sinister visage. But no question
of appearance would have weighed against it if we
had only known where it was — I mean if we had
known with that satisfying intimacy which latitude
and longitude alone can supply.

I had left behind me all hope of recovering my
chronometer, lost by reason of the mulish delay
of the Osh postmaster. That meant no longitude.
But latitude by meridian passages is determinable
without a chronometer, provided you know the de-
clinations of the bodies observed. These, with all
other required astronomical data, arc given in
nautical almanacs, and nautical almanacs should not

Tibet and Turkestan

be lost. But when a thorough search of all our kit
at the lake encampment failed to find the precious
book of figures, I knew that latitudes also must be
rare.

Even a very exact determination of position
would not have given us a trail, but could have
determined general directions toward an objective
and the distance to be traversed. As things were,
we had nothing save compass readings for guidance.
My instrument was small, not well made, and I did
not know the magnetic variation on the Tibetan
plateau. Experience had taught me in other jour-
neys that results, sometimes remarkably accurate,
may be had by compass work, assuming an average
rate for caravan speed. This must vary with the
animals used. Thus, Somali camels go steadily at
about two and a quarter miles per hour; Abyssinian
mules may be counted to do three miles per hour
over anything but very rough country. Our Tur-
kestan ponies, as we had determined on the lower
desert, were good also for three miles. And this
figure was, for a time, assumed on the plateau,
making specific allowance for all stops over one
minute. It proved to be too high, the animals
being slowed down by the rarified air and equally
rarified food.

During the first five days beyond the pass the
error of magnetic variation was of small account, as
our course had been generally southward with ap-
proximately equal east and west diversions. It be-
came serious on the long westerly course soon to be
pursued. The compass course pointed a wavering
and inaccurate path across the untracked wastes.

On to Polu 77

When later corrections were made by tying to
known points at the ends of the journey over the
unexplored region, and checked by corrected, inter-
mediate latitudes, 1 a fairly good result was reached.

1 Meridian passages of the sun were observed, declination being
calculated, after return to civilisation, based on approximate longi-
tudes.

CHAPTER VI

A PLUNGE TO WIIITIIER-AWAY— THE AKSA1 CHIN
OR WHITE DESERT

THIS dissertation on survey methods seems not
to belong to the narrative which brought us
up short at the end of a scoriae valley. It is prob-
ably here as a reflex from memories of the halting
and embarrassment experienced while getting out
of that valley. Caliban's desertion led to the dis-
covery of a curious mental phenomenon. He had
already deceived us in the important matter of the
fort. He seemed brutally ignorant, and we feared
he would make a bad use of such small intelligence
as God had granted him. Yet we were sorry to lose
him. There were seven of us left, but we felt lonely
on that great desert without Caliban. It is the
power of a word, — and of faith, — irrational faith, I
suppose. We had engaged him as a guide, and,
indeed, he had taken us to the lakes, which were on
the map. We very much needed a guide. After
the lake, Caliban had only pretended to know, or
had actually deceived us. Yet he was our guide.
The word is a noble one, full of sentiment. Trust
on the one side, helpful knowledge, all the way up
to omniscience, on the other. That is what the
word implies. And though all these elements of
sentiment were lacking in our case, yet, for a few

A Plunge to Whither- Away 79

r minutes, we mourned for our guide. But it is one
of the fixed laws of travel in a foodless, fireless,
houseless, roadless land that no feeling, however
sacred, can be indulged, standing still. "Move
on ! " That is Alpha and Omega as you must learn
them there, provided you wish to remain You. So
it was that, cursing Caliban lightly for the bad heart
that was in him and for his evil face, yet hoping he
might not suffer on his long journey homeward, we
saddled up and began to speer a way outward and
onward.

We said we must travel south-westward — toward
Rudok— and we hoped to find trace of some path,
or an occasional pile of stones laid by the hand of
man. It was a grievous job, I remember, getting
out of the valley. The gorge, which was its vermi-
form appendix, was attempted by us, but refused us
admission, scattering boulder behind boulder. So
we turned away from it, and climbed out, having to
unload the ponies and man-handle our goods in the
first quarter mile, covering, all told, about a mile
of progress in three hours of labour, Some of the
ponies were badly shaken up and bruised from fall-
ing, but we had lost none. Here, as in the Polu
gorge, Mohammed Joo ranged on the field, a valor-
ous Achilles, saving, not destroying.

More than once our most precious packs had trem-
bled to their fall, as the ponies slipped and gripped
against a thousand-foot roll down the luring slope,
which seeing I, at the rear, unable to pass, could but
cry out for our Achilles, who then, holding in some
spider- fash ion to the face of the steep, found his
way to the point of peril, got foot-hold or hand-hold

So Tibet and Turkestan

unitrr the i:rs.t*s belly. let the burden gently down,
urgei the ar.izr.i2 past the projecting rock, re-
gs.ir.tz the triil. mcve-i forward the loads to some
Sift, -a iie-strctchir.g plain that might measure four
feet in «ii:h. where the charge was repacked and
cur ncrvr-us mirch resumed. H* told the ponies in
their native tongue h:»w he expectrd to pull them
c -*. : : the snarl : : packs and recks into which they
miy hive fallen. The rest of us did such obvious,
but r.Dt always help: -I. things as might occur to
stringers Izokir.g at some family trouble, but only
those r.v;.. Mohammed loo and the beast, knew
how four-foot was tD be rolled over to come up, all-
standir.g. on some scarce perceptible bench that
broke the smioth face of the steep descent.

Something of remorseful ceal burned, I think, in
the breast of MDhammed loo. now that we were
thrown helpless on an unkn:»wn desert. He had
believed that he would be able to take us to a point
from which the route to Ruiok would not be diffi-
cult to pick up. Now, only four days from the
pass which puts one on the plateau, he found that
the mountains and valleys traversed three years
before with Captain Deasey were confused in
memory with thousands of their kind that cover all
this roof-region of the world over which his endless
journeys were ever leading him. The sahibs now
must determine the march which should result in life
or death for all of us. Mohammed Joo would nobly
do his part in nursing the afflicted ponies, prolonging
their lives beyond the span which would reasonably
be measured to them in terms of the hunger and cold
and fatigue which were their daily discipline. Dis-

—

3
O

A Plunge to Whither- A way 81

cipline? That is the theological term under which
many of our ills are covered. What is it for the
poor beast? What is the object of his discipline?
Briefly, we do not know— neither as to horse nor as
to man. Suffering is a part of the universe, in-
herent as is joy. While watching them, one after the
other, stagger to their death I could see only this:
a mass of carbon, oxygen, nitrogen, and hydrogen,
which, for reasons unknown to me, or to you, had
for a time been endowed with the fatal gift of con-
sciousness. And a man-corpse suggests nothing
different, save a less weight of carbon, oxygen, hy-
drogen, and nitrogen, with a greater weight of con-
sciousness. That is all we may know ; but there are
infinities for which we may hope.

In getting out of Caliban's valley we were led up
over a ridge 18,300 feet above the sea, and then, at
the end of two days' march, we were down again to
about 16,500, As to direction, we yielded to the
welcome constraint of mountain and valley, glad to
note that our general trend was south-westward.
So powerful is the reasoning of desire, we had con-
vinced ourselves that we could identify certain
ranges as shown on the meagre maps, and for a few
days we actually saw, at about five-mile intervals,
artificial heaps of stone, probably marking some
native trail of rarest use, from Polu to the salt lakes
or to Rudok. But we now know that we depended
too much on maps that were necessarily sketches
only.

We turned away westward from the best course
to Rudok, earlier by a good two days' march than
should have been done, and were thus thrown in

Tibet and Turkestan

the desert known as Aksai Chin — White Desert.
This region had not been anywhere traversed by
Europeans, but the compilers of the maps had, as
is customary, put in certain features as vaguely re-
ported by natives. These were erroneous, but \\c,
not then knowing definitely our position, were mis-
led by giving some faith to the representations.
Finding the mountain system very different from
that indicated for what was our actual latitude, and
very similar to that indicated for a lower latitude,
we were thus confirmed in an error which at the end
came near costing us "life, liberty, and the pursuit
of happiness."

On each day we were sternly asked, by each of
the four elements, certain embarrassing questions,
and the witness must answer. The Fire Spirit said :
"How shall you find me, that you may have hot
water for your tea and for the warming of your
tinned foods?" And we answered: "With the happy
trove of yak dung, or the grass-roots, or, these fail-
ing, with splinters of our two wooden packing-cases ;
and these being sacrificed, with this straw torn from
pack-saddles, whose bearers are stretched stiff there
a mile behind us. Thus, O Fire Spirit, we shall
seek you and conjure you to the end that we may
have tea, and we shall not ask then your direct com-
forting of our bones." And the Air Spirit spoke,
saying: "How shall you protect your pulpy bodies
from me, relentless, cold, as I seek to steal away
from them the heat which is their life?" And we
answered: "With the sheep's wool, and his hide;
and these protections against your sharp tooth we
shall not at any time put aside. And at night the

A Plunge to Whither-Away

tender Europeans shall sleep in a tent, and the
Asiatics shall sleep on the uncovered ground and
pile up packing-cases against your blast."

Then the Water Spirit spoke, saying: "You may
perchance live without hot tea, you may, with food
in your packs, burn those internal fifes whose pro-
tected warmth shall defy the Air Spirit. But how
shall you deal with me when I shall mock at you as
a mirage, when I shall sink into the sands at your
feet, when I shall change into stone before your
eyes? How shall you possess me, the Indispen-
sable?" And for answer we could but say : "When
you mock at us with a shining lie, we shall yet seek
after you ; when you are buried in the sand, we
shall go yet farther to find your reappearance ; when
you have turned into stone, we shall be the bet-
ter able to carry you from place to place until
you shall melt to the wooing of the Fire Spirit,
We shall thirst for you, and struggle for you, but
you shall yield, you shall comfort us." And, lastly,
the Earth Spirit spoke, saying: *T have trapped
you here, you who have come into my sanctuary
which I have kept apart for its quietness. You
shall see doors in my mountain walls, they shall
seem to be open, but they shall be closed against
you. Your feet shall be heavy, your breathing
shall be as a bellows that creaks. This land I have
lifted far above the thick air which your lungs de-
sire for the quick cleansing of your blood. This
land is not made for man. You have sinned against
me in leaving the habitations which I have widely
prepared for you, to come into my high solitudes."
And we answer: "The shut door shall we leave,

Tibet and Turkestan

seeking yet another, though the feet be heavy.
Your solitude shall then be respected; open only
the way. Let no strange skeletons be mingled here
with those of the yak, the gazelle, the wild dog —
proper offerings on this your barren altar."

Thus may struggle the spirit of man with the
spirits of all the conspiring elements. But the
ponies? Ah! they could but answer to the shrill
jibe of the death-bearing night wind; "We bear the
burdens of man, his will must we serve while we
live, yours to-morrow when we die." How the
poor brutes churned and churned all night long!
They were tied in pairs, head to tail. Thus they
could move, but could not stray. Little rest for
them, this all-night milling round and round. But
to stand still meant death.

The loss of one's ponies is the peril that hangs
over all travel in this fatal region. It is impossible
to soften the frightful conditions in which they
strive to exist. They must travel to the limit of
their endurance, because the land is foodless. They
cannot be relieved from the effect of excessive alti-
tude; nor can they be protected at night from ex-
ccssive cold. If the journey be long, they must
be fed on small rations. A fair load for a pony in
rough country is one hundred and fifty pounds, or
say two hundred. If he were fed ten pounds a day,
he could carry nothing more than his own food for
a twenty-day journey. The occasional grass one
meets counts for something, and we always sought
to camp near even the meanest-looking patch of it.
But one cannot rely upon it, and in the short time
available for grazing over sparse growth, the animal

3
O

4
>

m
a

c
5

A Plunge to Whither-Away 85

gets only a lunch — not a dinner. If one starts from
a mountain-base, such as Darjeeling or Ladak Leh,
the animals are hardier than those recruited in Tur-
kestan. But even these are not accustomed to
regular life at elevations above fourteen thousand
feet, and the increase to an average of sixteen
thousand feet, which must be met in any consider-
able journey on the plateau, seems to tel! on even
the hardiest.

The first to succumb was Captain Anginieur's
mount, a high-bred animal with too much mettle.
For about ten days after ascending the Polu gorge
he continued to be ready for a morning gallop. He
soon dropped, fell several times under his rider,
tried to follow the caravan, bearing a nominal load;
then, on another day, without load, he stumbled
forward several times, bleeding at the mouth as he
recovered; finally, gave it up, and when I last saw
him he was on his knees. Anginieur did not like
the thought of shooting him ; the cold of the night
must have promptly done the bullet's quicker work.
My own mount, an excellent Kashgar purchase,
died one night a few days after he had made a noble
effort for his salvation and mine. We had made a
hard march the day before and went into a dry
camp, moistened a little, however, by water carried
in my rubber bed from the previous camp.

We were moving in a valley about ten miles wide.
Small streams coming from the neighbouring snow-
tops wandered lazily over level surfaces, and often
disappeared almost while you watched them. At
night they were frozen. We ought to reach them
early enough to let the animals drink liquid water.

Tibet and Turkestan

Ten miles is a wide stretch to cross and re-cross,
unless you have nothing else to do. But we wanted
to move forward as rapidly as possible. At about
twelve o'clock noon I left the caravan, which was
near the middle of the valley, agreeing with Angi-
nieur that he should keep the march headed on a
selected peak far in front of us, while I sought for
water near the foot of one of our bounding ranges.
At about four o'clock, finding none, I turned
to rejoin the caravan, and soon reached the line
of the front-and-rear peaks agreed on in the
morning.

The caravan was not seen, nor the trail. For a
time we kept on the supposed line of march, but
when no trail was found and the sun sank low both
horse and I were troubled. Finally, quite against
his will, I turned the animal square across the val-
ley, determined thus to find the trail before dark, or
prove that the caravan had not gone so far. The
poor beast flagged now; he thought I was wrong
and he knew he was tired. But when the tracks
were seen, what an intelligent leap he made ! Turn-
ing freely to follow, now forward, he again tried to
gallop. But the fire was gone. Thus we passed
on, hoping every moment to see the caravan in
motion or the tent set for a cheerless night. Then
came a stony stretch, the moon sank in clouds, the
trail was gone.

It was no longer possible to make out anything in
the dark. Just what to do was a puzzle. I must
not stop too long, as that meant sleeping and freez-
ing, but I was very tired; hence I concluded to lie
down for a while, keeping the bridle on my arm.

A Plunge to Whither-Away 87

Then, remembering a crust of bread in my saddle-
bag, I providentially moved round the horse's head
to get it, when a flash — no sound, but an instant's
flash — struck through the black night. As we were
the only men for several hundreds of miles about,
that flash was conclusive evidence that the camp
was near. Now we need not fight the bitter night
through against hunger and the killing cold. I
sprang to the saddle and again urged forward the
over-worn horse. The signal he could not under-
stand, yet he forged on, dejectedly but patiently.

In less than half an hour we were splashing
through a good stream. Shot after shot guided us
on, then shout after shout, then hand -grasp after
hand-grasp, for even the men put aside the reserve
of station to welcome the lost sahib. But the poor
horse never recovered his spirit. He had endeav-
oured, yea, accomplished, too much. He could
scarce make the next day's march, and, though he
showed again a bit of energy, in a week he was
dead. Even when an enforced halt had come to the
caravan, and he had days of repose ahead of him, he
chose eternal rest. Our trouble had arisen, like
many others less serious, from a mirage. My long
absence from the caravan caused Anginteur to feel
that he must look out for water, A beautiful little
lake spread out to the left of our agreed line of
march. He veered over toward the vision, which
was n't water, but only the ghost of it. That ac-
counted for the long loop in the trail and my failure
to pick it up when I reached the line of the direction
peaks. Moral. When you have been long sepa-
rated from your friends, remember that they may

Tibet and Turkestan

have excellent reasons for changing rules of conduct
supposedly fixed.

The caravan was in motion about ten hours dur-
ing the day just described; that is a long pull for
weak, underfed horses, so we had to shoot one on
breaking camp next morning. The straw of the
now useless pack-saddle was given in part to the
tea-making fire, and in part to the famished horses,
each one striving for a mouthful of the woody
fibre.

We are now nearly at the end of the long, flat
valley in which we had marched for eight or ten
days. It was closed just ahead of us, and there was
thus closed one chapter in the history of our woes.
Yet withal a few pleasant elements had entered into
the experience. Two lakes were discovered, one
drinkable, the other salt. The fresh water lay beau-
tifully blue at the foot of sharply rising mountains
and gladdened our eyes for two days. Around the
other tracks were found, some quite new, and these
lifted our hopes. But the trails thinned out into
the silent hills. They were evidently made by wild
horses coming to the salt licks. Both the lakes were
ii. u to the maps.

It was near the sweet water that we had a half
day's diversion furnished by a herd of wild yak.
Miles had given us a Berdan rifle. With this and
the Mauser gun- pistol we taught the yaks and the
virgin echoes how noisy and how harmless may be
the artillery of the breath-spent hunter. That we
exhtUfted by our vain stalking efforts was of
small concern; that we failed to get fresh meat was
a disappointment, particularly for the men, who

A Plunge to Whither- A way 89

worked hard and shivered much during thirty days
or more on a diet of tea and bread, while we had
sustaining tins of sausage and pork in various other
forms; also dreadful Russian fish. The folded val-
ley in which we saw the yaks contained a bit of
grazing, which would have been relished by the
ponies, but we had to retreat from its impassable
sides and regain the broader desert in which our
course had been held. Even here occasional ga-
zelles browsed invisible grass, and invariably flung
away, rejoicing, from our long-range shots.

Except for these things, the lakes, the yaks, and
the gazelles, yes, and the sunshine, and the solitude
and the snow-tops around us, I can think of nothing
agreeable in connection with the long valley which
stretches across the Aksai Chin. Except for these,
life there was but a constant strain of search for
water, for fuel of roots or dung, for a bit of grazing,
and always for a trail that never was found, because
it never had been.

Now, ahead of us the mountains closed the way.
They were not ugly heights; we felt that they could
be climbed, or a way threaded between them. The
portentous question was, which way? We had evi-
dently passed beyond any opening, if it existed,
that would lead us by short line to Rudok. Might
we not be near Lanak Pass? That is on the map.
Several explorers had crossed it. Indeed, Moham-
med Joo now took courage and declared that he
recognised the black mountain there in front. We
microscoped the rumour-made maps more closely
than ever and then plunged into the heights which
confronted us. Soon we were up again to eighteen

9 o

Tibet and Turkestan

thousand feet, then down again to sixteen thousand
five hundred, in a rather narrow valley. Lassoo now
began to revive memories of his march with Captain
Welby. His little yellow face was turned know-
ingly from side to side, and he soon delighted us by
declaring to Achbar that we were going in the wrong
direction. Think of it, somebody who knew what
was the wrong direction! The next morning we
gave Lassoo his head, and were soon scaling another
eighteen-thousand-foot ridge, down into another
valley at about sixteen thousand five hundred feet
elevation. Mohammed Joo, ever an optimist, said
that was Lanak Pass. Lassoo said it was not, but
he could take us to Lanak and probably find shep-
herds there. Our hearts swelled with satisfaction.
A shepherd meant a trail ; a trail meant a way back
to the world where people lived, where the map
should no longer be blank and where the ear
should no longer be hurt by the refrain "Adam
Yok!"

Another day we followed Lassoo, who held down
the valley wherein a friendly stream accompanied us
for a while. But now the little compass read N.
W., and all day long N. W., and there were no
shepherds. But men had been in this valley. Lassoo
triumphantly chuckled over a piece of pottery found
near to three blackened stones, dear to the eyes of
the trail-seeker. Then we passed a curious line of
little stone-piles about a foot high, two feet apart,
and stretching a clean mile across the valley, with a
six-foot opening about the middle. I think it
served to cull the foolish flocks that may have
grazed last year, or a hundred years ago, or a thou-

A Plunge to Whither- Away 91

sand, on the hillsides, that now bore, here and there,
only a little furze like the three days' beard on a
man's chin.

Night came on, and our stream had left us by
burying itself alive. We turned up a side valley
and pitched camp in the dark, all very blue. We
had not filled the rubber bed in the morning, and
all my previous exhortations in respect to water
bottles resulted only in two — mine and Achbar's.
Two pints of water for seven men. Achbar's bottle
went to the men. They would not accept the
whiskey I offered, and whose use under such cir-
cumstances I thought even the Prophet himself
would have allowed ; but he was not there to make
a dispensation.

And now the worst of it came. Poor Anginieur

Phad been always more affected by the altitude than
the rest of us. He was forced to open his lips for
breathing. We had been riding for days into the
teeth of a cruel wind, which, I suppose, inflamed
the exposed tonsils and made things worse. It was
impossible to keep warm enough for continuous
sleep at night, though we wore all our day-clothing
and got under everything else available. This lack
of sleep produced general feverishness, and now a
long night had to be passed with only one cup of

t water, a body temperature of 103 F., and an
atmospheric temperature of — 20° F.
My little stock of medicines had not seemed to
be selected to meet this case, though they had been
rather liberally applied during the past few days.
Moreover, I never treat Europeans with the same
confidence which spreads from patient to doctor

9 2

Tibet and Turkestan

when the patient is a native. In Africa, where I
had a flourishing practice, another condition added
to my professional aplomb. I was always moving
forward and thus left my clients behind me, cured
by faith, I trust. Now, when the case seemed grave,
and was that of my friend, I felt miserable in my
ignorance. I could but give quinine and look cheer-
ful ; it was a hard night for Anginieur, whose fever
gasped for water, though he must be covered cap-a-
pie to keep from freezing. Very early we were up,
looking about for H 4 in any form.

Mohammed Joo climbed to a forbidding niche
about a mile away and came back about seven
o'clock with a bucket full of reviving snow. Then
Lassoo explored a near-by elevation, found abun-
dant running water within a quarter of a mile, and
soon the rubber bed was full. Perilous as was our
position now, a day's rest for the invalid became im-
perative. And it was equally imperative that the
caravan should be lightened. We had now eleven
horses and grain enough to quarter-feed them all for
about five days. Unless some of them were better
fed, all would soon die. So we made a pile contain-
ing civilised clothing, books (about a dozen good
heavy ones that had come with me all the way from
London), our little camp table and chairs, my sex-
tant, and various odds and ends, altogether amount-
ing to about two loads. Then we redistributed the
packs and found that we could get rid of at least
three animals. Mohammed Joo was told to give
no grain to these three, to let them follow, if they
chose, in the hope of some sudden relief, or, if he
preferred, to shoot them. As his heart was half

A Plunge to Whither- A way 93

horse, he did not shoot them and did, I fear, sneak
them a mouthful of food.

After one day's rest, Anginieur was again able to
get in the saddle. In an hour's march we had
picked up our disappearing, re-appearing stream,
and in another hour it was running strong wherever
it could break through its fetters of ice. But the
valley trended stubbornly north-west. This seemed
to mean that we should soon be in the open desert
again, and certainly we were wearing away from
Lanak Pass — away from possible food and life. So
when a wide opening appeared, looking south-west,
we felt that reason pointed toward the new valley.
I had many misgivings about leaving a descending
stream to ascend a long valley. Lassoo's leathery
face almost changed colour when he saw us leading
away on a new tack, and my conversation with him
was thus :

"The sahibs will surely die if they leave this
stream/'

"But how do you know we shall not die if we
follow it ? ' '

"At Lanak Pass there was big water, and this too
is big."

"But I am sure now that we are far from Lanak;
the sun has told me so."

" Even if we are, this is good water."

" But many times we have seen the streams die in
the sands — why not this one? "

"There are fish here. I saw some under the ice
as long as two hands ; such fish are not in the waters
that die in the sands. And we now go down, that
is good. If we go up the horses will die first. The

94 Tibet and Turkestan

sahibs cannot sleep without horses to carry their
food and their blankets. Even we cannot walk and
bear burdens in this land; we shall all die."

"But this stream goes ever in the wrong direc-
tion."

"It will change — if it does not yet I shall soon
find men — shepherds of the Botmen (Tibetans) or
the Kirghiz, perhaps."

I felt that Lassoo's talk was good medicine, but
the compass and the maps won the day and carried
us on to further trials. One of our ponies had
dropped just before we changed direction. Another
considerately went down a short time before we
camped, thus assuring us a straw fire for our tea.
The next night, a bitter one in a snow-fall at an
elevation of seventeen thousand five hundred feet,
was cheered by this sort of death-flame. Three
ponies had now eliminated themselves from the
grain equation without help of powder and shot.
By noon of the following day we had clambered out
of the upper defiles of our tempting valley and
found ourselves on a mountain-top, the very abomi-
nation of desolation. Again we looked at the world
from an elevation of eighteen thousand five hundred
feet, and it was not good to behold; magnificent,
but not good. Vast snow-crowned heights, like
gigantic foam billows, met at every point a now
threatening sky. A deep valley looked up at us
from the west, but visible issue there was none.
There was absolutely nothing to suggest a way out
of the wildly massed region of snow save death or
retreat. Again the little leathery face of Lassoo
seemed drawn as by cords, yet* composedly he said

A Plunge to Whither-Away 95

to Achbar, who composedly interpreted to us:
"Now the sahibs see that we must all die if we
go on; and shall we go there, or there, or there?
It is all the same. Last night the ponies were
nearly all dead in the snow. All of us were very
cold. You see it is worse around us. But it is not
too late, I think, if we go back! "

Just then, at the psychological moment, the snow
began falling around us, and even Anginieur, who
sympathised less with Lassoo's views than I, felt
that our lives were now hung on a slender thread,
which pulled us backward. Lassoo was all wrong
about Lanak Pass, but he was all right in respect to
the wisdom of sticking closer than a brother to a
good descending stream. And now we could hold
out but a few days longer, for our grain supply was
just two bushels. We had been travelling for more
than twenty days without seeing a human being and
had no idea where to find them, and we were simply
lost. So down we went. There remained much to
suffer, but that decision saved us eventually. I re-
member just a little regret at leaving so splendid* so
savage a view. And, as we knew later, the spot was
geographically of unique interest. The ridge which
stretched its forlorn length to right and left of us
separates the Hindustan plains from the central
desert. It is the true ridge-pole of the Asiatic con-
tinental mass. The snowflakes that fell around us
might be divided even as they melted, part going to
the hungry sands of the cold northern wastes, part
to be warmed in the glistening bosom of the Indian
Ocean. Here is such a frontier as Titans would de-
clare for fending wide apart their jealous empires.

9 6

Tibet and Turkestan

And here is such a seat as Icy Death would sit upon
for throne.

In a day and a half we were again camped in the
big valley near the point where we had left it, an
unusually fine grass-patch near us, abundant water
at our feet, and a fair supply of yak dung, garnered
there by passing decades. On the way down we
had proposed to Mohammed Joo and Lassoo that
they should go alone down the good stream to seek
help, while the rest of us remained in camp, thus
avoiding transport of five men and our European
necessities, tent, and heavier bedding. They
eagerly assented. Indeed, it was evidently the
only course possible. We had now just one bushel
of grain. That would keep two horses going several
days, and at good speed, but it would last eight
horses only two days, at half rations. Lassoo was
calmly confident that he could return in six days.
Just why he said six instead of sixteen I don't know,
unless he merely wanted to comfort us, for we could
live comfortably for ten days on the food remaining
to us, and we hoped the idle horses might keep their
life-sparks burning by consumption of the grass.

Our two messengers then fared forth to ask of the
silent mountains whether we were to be granted a
few more years of respiration, of see-saw 'twixt pain
and pleasure. How grave it all seemed to us!
How indifferent to the dumb world around us!
How petty to the babbling world of men to which
we once belonged! Perhaps a few broken hearts
there, grief-filled for a season, then the salve of
time and routine, then, for them also, the sovereign
cure-all, death.

CHAPTER VII

CAMP PURGATORY — PHILOSOPHY AND RELIGION
VS. PROBABLE DEATH— KIRGHIZ SAMARITANS

THE tardy sun reached the black mountain-tops
and slanted his arrows upon our tent some-
what after eight in the morning. When thus we
were invited forth from our covers on the first day
of our sojourn in Camp Purgatory (for so we called
it i, it came to pass that another blow from Fortune's
hammer fell upon us. Now it struck Anginieur's
leg, and the effect thereof is called phlebitis, and
the effect of phlebitis is acute pain, a sort of paraly-
sis. A short cable's length of assisted promenade,
that was a day's work for a so stricken leg. For
the upkeeping of our courage we had talked much
and fallaciously about walking toward safety, when
the ponies should all have died ; scheming to use
them inside of us when they could no longer bear
us as burdens on their backs. But if no help came
fn.m down stream, whither our messengers had
gone, we should be forced back into the maze of
fatal mountains which had encircled us since we left
the Aksai Chin valley. Even the natives felt the
hopelessness of such an effort for themselves.

The attempts that I had made to give relief to
my pitiful mount whenever the uphill work halted
him had made it clear to me that even a well man,

98 Tibet and Turkestan

burdened with a few pounds of food and the cover-
ing necessary to protect from freezing at night,
would be able to make not more than three or four
miles per day. Now, as we frequently had to travel
twenty miles a day to secure water, the shorter
march might be fatal. Of course, the immortal
principle of Micawber would doubtless keep a live
body moving as long as motion was possible, but I
had now revolved the situation in many different
lights, and had become convinced that relief could
come only from the down-stream course of the black
valley in which we found ourselves. If not there,
then a good dose of Mauser lead could at least
shorten heartache and hunger pangs.

Anginieur's spirit had for days been far stronger
than his body, and even now, when this sore afflic-
tion fell upon him, he always joined me in wfafUng
away the long hours by talking about what we
should do when we should get out. When several
days had passed, and our poor ministrations to the
invalid leg were shown to be futile, there came— so
secret and complex are mental processes — a sort of
resignation to our inactivity, a sort of restful finality
concerning the impossiblity of walking out of our
trouble. As the days wore on we even tried to bar
the wearisome discussion of what to do if the men
came not back within the necessary limits of days,
or if they came back empty-handed. And in this
the phlebitis helped us. Nursing it gave occupa-
tion to sunlit hours that came staring at us, and to
rushlit hours that came peering at us, inquiring,
"What can you do with us? We must be lived
unto our death." Anginieur's leg and the Bible,

Camp Purgatory 99

these were the two diversions, the two clean -picked
bones of discussion.

The story of how the Bible came to Camp Purga-
tory is this : I have told you that before making our
dash up Disappointment Valley we had cast aside
all save the indispensables. Now, we found our-
selves about ten miles below Camp Abandon, im-
prisoned for a time or for eternity. My little library
spoke to me through the solid earth, and I longed
for it. The intricacies, the profundities, the absurdi-
ties which should be found in Kant, Spinoza, Des-
cartes, the Koran, the Bible, Buddha's Meditations
these would lead one away from self, a too intimate
personage when his existence seems threatened.
The little collection had been put in a leather box
and named Kitab, this being Hindustani for book.

Mir Mullah now was sent with two ponies that
could walk to recover Kitab, ten miles away. The
old man had done nothing thoroughly, save his
prayers, but there seemed little chance for error.
"Go back to the abandoned camp and recover
Kitab, also some shoes." We reckoned not, how-
ever, with the possibilities of Achbar's translations
falling upon a mind vacant and now disturbed.
Mir Mullah returned, after a day and a half, bringing
my trunk,— Kitab still ten miles away. Both were
of leather. On this similarity Mir Mullah stumbled.
The trunk contained evening dress, summer clothes,
and the Bible ; and weighed twice as much as Kitab ;
the wretched pony died of it two days later. The
book had been accidentally separated from its com-
panion volumes. It was ungracious that one, even
nominally a Christian, should curse a Mussulman for

IOO

Tibet and Turkestan

bringing him the Bible, but I could fairly scold the
poor old stupid for putting half a normal load on a
pony having only one-tenth its normal strength, and
no grain at the end of the journey. When men look
at you with the deep, patient eyes that light those
Asiatic faces, and when one's wrath must filter
through Achbar's brain and Achbar's tongue, the
victim still lives when you have finished with
him.

And the morning and the evening were the second
day when I began to read the Bible to Anginieur,
Ere a week had passed, even my orthodox Catholic
friend felt that the early books of slaughter and the
vitriolic prophets left much to be desired as an ele-
vating preparation for probable death. Job, the
patient and Ecclesiastes, struck a more sympathetic
note. The ante-Abraham traditions were suggest-
ive, even absorbing, to the intellect that would in-
quire critically into the history of religion. So,
also, though of far less hold upon one's interest,
the childish babbling of the dream-interpreters,
down to Daniel. Much of all this turns around
life, but the life of a nation rather than of an indi-
vidual. It could enter little into the meditations
of those whose chances of living were down to the
Camp Purgatory measure. Ruth, Esther, and the
Songs of Solomon were read, together with some
torn pages of Childe Harold, which had been hid*
den in our kit ; all these spoke to us of the Heaven
of woman's love, from which we seemed to be per-
manently exiled. To the life of Christ, he of
Christian childhood, though long since forced be-
yond the fold, might fancy that he could more con-

Camp Purgatory

IOI

fidingly turn for inspiration and for solace. But
those who were chosen to tell us the story of this
great life piled Pelion on Ossa of intellectual diffi-
culty — Pelion of resurrection on Ossa of virgin
birth. Frightened by these uplifted rocks, we are
then forced to sail between the Scylla of individual
interpretation of ancient writings, on the one hand,
and, on the other, the Charybdis of severe church
authority, rising from foundations of musty tradi-
tion. Under the lee of this Charybdis rock, Angi-
nieur's bark, driven by fate, had been anchored, and
some peace found, but a peace disturbed by thoughts
of the many who seemed to have vanished out into
the far sea of unbelief. And lo! there, where the
storm of doubt has been outridden, there also is
peace. There one sees his neighbour-barks sink
quietly, sails all furled, into the sea from which
they rose. Some, in the gradual engulfment of
age, seem but to nestle back into the water as the
tired child seeks its couch. Others, downward drawn
by a law more sudden and more secret in its drift,
swirl quickly out of vision.

As the mariner goes down, the clear sky around
him is not peopled by fantastic forms of Jewish,
Egyptian, Greek, or German myth. Under the
smooth sea which receives him, no Satan, no Pluton
dwells. The law gave him birth, set him to move
athwart the sea of existence, called the voyage Life;
is now about to end it, and for whatever he may
now be, something or nothing, he is still held by
the law. Or so it all seemed to me in the black
silence of the nights when the days were ended and
their hopes were buried with the setting sun. The

102

Tibet and Turkestan

silence and the darkness were as waters to quench
the thirst for identity, for separateness.

Although it was clear that Lassoo's six-day limit
was purely fanciful, we could not but feel a bit more
lost when the seventh day's sun rose on our un-
broken solitude. Our men would undoubtedly have
made great effort to return on the appointed day.
Moreover, their horses must now be dead unless
they had found help. The grain, less than a bushel,
could not keep them going more than six days of
hard work. We counted our paltry store of tins
and hefted our bag of rice. This had now to be
divided among our three servants whose bread stock
was very low, Mohammed joo and Lassoo having
been supplied generously for ten days' constant
riding or walking. Allowing Anginieur and myself
together one box of sardines, a one-pint tin of pork
swimming in water, a cup of rice, and four ounces
of bread, and to the men a cup of rice and eight
ounces of bread (for the three), we were still, good
for eight days. Happily the tea supply would go
even a little longer. Oh, blessed beverage ! As we
were quite inactive, the rations would have been
satisfactory but for the extreme cold, which de-
manded the production of a lot of heat units. We
usually spent fifteen hours in bed, covered in due
form with all our trappings, thus minimising the
heat losses.

It was, perhaps, an hygienic regime ; we could
not eat enough to satisfy appetite, but we had
enough to tame hunger. The only severe trials
proceeding from our larder came when some un-
readable label gave us a mere mess of cabbage, with-

Camp Purgatory 103

out meat, for our piece de resistance. Then we
gripped our belts and had doubts as to Russian
civilisation. The men were stolid and uncomplain-
ing, though Mir Mullah's resigned assertion that
Allah had surely chosen this spot, as his burial-
ground did not tend to make the two younger ones
light-hearted. And the old man's voice was dis-
tressingly broken and womanish when lifted up in
long prayers which every day became more plaintive.
There was a note of dissolution in it, of incorporeal-
ity, which shivered one's nerves. Was it ugly of
me to have Achbar tell him to pray like a man, not
like a weeping child?

When we had been in Camp Purgatory a week
three crows began to visit us, our only friends.
Achbar said these birds would eat nothing but men
and horses, and that they knew three days in ad-
vance when God meant to give them a feast. We
laughed at him and flung stones at the crows.
Then we discovered some fish insultingly curling
under the ice of a near-by pond. Here was occu-
pation and food, if we were successful. Fish-hooks
were found and let down through ice-holes. The
cunning beasts viewed our stratagem and sailed
away. Several hours of several days were patiently
dedicated to such wiles, but each night closed up
our silly breaches in their walls, glazing over an
undiminished number of these water foxes.

The tenth night was a blue one, for we had laid
great stress, when instructing our messengers, upon
the importance of sending some word on that day,
in case help had been found, even if our men could
not themselves return. However, nothing remained

104

Tibet and Turkestan

to us but to await the designs of slow-moving
Fate.

Three of our ponies, having nothing else to do,
had now died. The others were festering racks,
their proper sores having spread and grown more
malignant under the pack-saddles, which Mir Mullah
had not removed during the whole period of inactiv-
ity. Anginieur was still a prisoner to his leg,
charging himself at times with being a burden upon
the move, which now, he thought, we ought to at-
tempt. But it was not difficult to convince him
that, without a single horse that could carry a bur-
den, we were not all tied to his leg, but that all were
separately tied to our desolate prison ground in
a common inability to cope with conditions all
awry.

The eleventh day wore away to its afternoon ;
for distraction it was suggested that the fishes be
bombarded behind their ice-fortress. Perhaps our
smooth-bore, belching out duck-shot, would break
the ice, and repeated cannonading might somehow
reach the finny garrison. Three futile shots had
set the echoes ringing, when lo ! an answering, dis-
tant sound rolled up from the valley's hidden stretch
below us. The long strain was ended. That single
rifle-shot meant life. Then masters and men looked
into each other's eyes as brothers and strained away
their gaze toward the black cliff which closed the
down -stream view. When the sober, silent joy of
first relief had changed to laughing gaiety that felt
its right to live, our anxious watch discovered two
horsemen urging up the valley. In half an hour
they were at our sides, the faithful two, weary with

Camp Purgatory

105

long travel, radiant with success, happy because
they had saved their friends.

Achbar's halting words were spurred to tell the
story. Four and a half days down the valley, their
ponies pushed to the limit of endurance, they had
at last found mart. The thirty-day refrain of "Adam
Yok" was ended. Three Kirghiz tents, set where
the valley widened and bore abundant grass, shel-
tered a kindly people. The exhausted ponies, the
way-worn men, were fed. But the paterfamilias
being absent, nothing there could be done for our
relief. Nearly two days' away were two other
tents. There the elders had gone, there our mes-
sengers must hasten, on fresh ponies now. The
good Kirghiz were quick to act. Three men, four
camels, and two extra ponies were at once set in
motion. Grain for the going and for the return,
and food for all, were promptly gathered. The
Kirghiz knew the valley well, though none had gone
as far up as was our camp. Travelling fast, under
the friendly constraint of our servants, they covered
in four days what we afterwards covered, with fair
marches, in seven. They were now only an hour
behind our Achilles and Ulysses. Soon we saw the
familiar swing of the camels rounding the black
rocks, and ere the sun set, we were a happy camp
of friends. So material a thing is life that we must
mark the reassurance of it by eating away all hunger
and all appetite; the fresh mutton was good, the
yak's butter was good, and the yak's clotted cream
was good.

Good and surprising it was also to learn where we
were. The great valley was that of the Karakash,

io6

Tibet and Turkestan

one of the principal rivers that digs a torrential
course down the Kuen Lun Mountains, to fret its
way through the slow sands of the Taklamakan,
and to die of inanition as part of the great Tarim
stream. The waters which appeared between Camp
Abandon and Camp Purgatory were evidently its
permanent sources, instead of the much more dis-
tant points which the maps had heretofore assigned
to that character. Thus our stumbling among the
mountains turned to some good account in the
laborious effort which man has made to know
the globe he inhabits.

Then came the blow to my hopes. The Kirghiz
would not go farther from their tents; they could
not help me to get back to Rudok. We must go
out, if we wanted to be saved, by going northward,
back to their grazing ground, thence westward until
we should reach the Karakoram caravan route be-
tween Yarkand and Ladak Leh. They had not grain
enough to furnish me forth for another journey,
even if I had the horses, and they could not afford
to part with such animals as I should need for such
an attempt. Man is an essentially Unsatisfied De-
sire and an Irritated Sensibility. These people had
come in the nick of time to save my life; their
refusal to help me Rudokward was in every way
reasonable, yet there was a moment of rebellious in-
dignation. Soon, however, It-might-have-been was
buried deep in It-is, and we turned towards thoughts
of departure. Something like thirty days must pass
ere we could reach the railway on the far north of
India, but the route was known to our Kirghiz as
far as the link that should bind Camp Purgatory to

*L *\

A morning bath at Kashgar.

Camp Purgatory 107

a well-known trail, thence to all the Yarkand-Ladak
world. And at Ladak we knew the telegraph could
be reached — that was only twenty days away.

There should be some hardship still — the Karako-
ram route is not Rotten Row — but, barring such
accidents as are always possible in crossing glaciers,
snow masses, and narrow defiles, we might now
consider ourselves at the railway station in Rawal
Pindi, or in Paris, for that matter.

CHAPTER VIII

GLACIERS, YAKS, SKELETONS, A LOVE AFFAIR, AND
A HIGH SONG ON THE KARAKORAM ROUTE

ARETRI E VE of the luggage at Camp Abandon,
a day of rest for the weary ones, plenty of
grain in the bellies of the surviving ponies, and we
were off again down the dismal valley whence had
come our salvation- We were delighted to find that
Anginieur, once trussed up on his mount, could
"stay put" without much suffering. Then, the
third day out, came a sensation, and for the game
leg the beginning of its cure. We had a roaring fire
made of shrubs that grew at least three feet high,
the most gigantic vegetable we had seen since leav-
ing Polu. The leg was fairly roasted by the leaping
flames, and a luxurious biai itre took hold of Angi-
nieur's soul.

Then two days later came the triumphal entry
into the Kirghiz camp. What a simple, hearty
welcome from these good people! Their little
population normally filled the three lodges — those
felt-warmed, lattice- framed tents which sparsely dot
all the wilds of Central Asia. One was given to the
sahibs ; one received all the men, a dozen of them ;
while women and children swarmed in the third. It
would be pleasant to believe that one-fourth of all
the Christians whom one must meet in an ordinary

toi

Glaciers, Yaks, Skeletons 109

life should possess the elementary virtues developed
as they were in this band of nomads, dwelling in
the western wilds of Tibet, hundreds of miles from
their kind. They were dignified, yet respectful;
they were poor, but honest ; they were hospitable,
but not fawning; we were helpless in their power,
and they sold their scant provisions and their labour
(vital to us) for the usual Central Asian prices. On
the mere word of our men they took Russian gold
in payment, though they were familiar with no
money save the Chinese silver, and must send the
gold to Yarkand or Kashgar for exchange.

The service of the camels that brought us out,
including the men who tended them, was charged
at forty cents per day each. The ponies which we
rode were also forty cents each per day, including
the necessary grain, which is here very precious, as
it must be brought by caravan from Yarkand. The
Good Samaritan could not have better played the
r61e which he created than did these Mussulmen,
astray from temple and from mosque. Judging
from the glimpses of Kirghiz life which we had
while crossing the Alai Mountains from Osh to
Kashgar, I had thought these nomads quite careless
about all religious ceremonial, as, indeed, must be
probable, since they are never in communities where
they may be assembled in pious celebrations. Yet
so strong was the hold of the Prophet's law that the
morning sun, looking into their cheerless camp,
found all the men in genuflexion toward Mecca.
This persistent but unostentatious performance of
the prayer rite is — well, it is not European, or, shall
I say, not Protestant European.

I IO

Tibet and Turkestan

Yaks, camels, horses, sheep, these are their
wealth. Tradition seems to give the right of graz-
ing in certain valleys to certain families, who must
have several places of accustomed resort in order to
keep their animals in condition. Few, 1 believe,
have been found living at higher elevations than our
friends, who spent regularly a part of each year in
the spot which received us, at an elevation of four-
teen thousand feet above sea. If their pasturage is
good they may eat meat not infrequently; if scant,
they must not vary from milk, in many forms, and
bread. This they obtain, by exchange of skins or
condensed milk, from the caravans that may pass
nearest their camps. So also they obtain their
clothing, which is generally heavy and well made.
Their rugs are home-made and excellent. The
women are modest, though not veiled. The high,
white turban of myriad folds seems never to be laid
aside, though the whole day is filled with a leisurely
industry, milking, cooking, weaving, nursing babies.
They work quietly ; one never hears the scolding
and quarrelling which so frequently advertise the
concourse of working women in civilised lands.
Their faces are strong and comely, but not viva-
cious. Both men and women seem gentle with
children, who, like their parents, are not noisy.
The babies cry but little, unless ill. They all
seem to suffer from colds, nasal catarrh being not
uncommon.

While our new caravan was being organised,
clothes patched, and bread cooked, we passed two
days in Capuan ease at Camp Kirghiz. The tent
was warm, and one's eyes harden to the smoke.

Glaciers, Yaks, Skeletons 1 1 1

We put our camp folding-table in commission again,
stretched our legs, all four of them, in defiance of
phlebitis, and voted the world a merry one. Then
we were off, following the stately camels, not to be
warm again for a week or more ; but there was food
a-plenty and action a-plenty. We were bound for
Sasar, several days' march beyond the junction with
the Yarkand-Leh caravan route. There we must
change camels for yaks, thus to get over the great
glacier on which pad-feet would slip and ingloriously
sprawl the humped majesty of Asia.

In the week's hard march we passed one habita-
tion, a single Kirghiz tent, whose owner's cattle
struggled for existence in as dismal a loneliness as
hermit could desire. We stopped there while our
attendants gathered a few small sticks from the
furze-growth. The men of the family were absent,
but we were permitted to sit by the scant fire and
watch the household life of the women. One of
the daughters wore the matron's turban ; her sisters,
comely girls, were not yet mated. One of them,
however, was thejkmcfy of a young man in our
caravan. It was a pretty play of hide-and-seek wc
witnessed. When his voice was heard approaching
the tent, she bustled quickly behind a screen, where
she must remain while he warmed his fingers. Sur-
rounding nature's severity is thus reflected in their
customs. He must not see her during the year of
their engagement, then, with guise of swift violence,
he will seize her away to some lonely neighbouring
tent, distant fifty miles or more. Does the picture
please you, O Araminta? No matter: there are
Jeep reasons for it, which I could better explain to

ii2 Tibet and Turkestan

your mother than to you. In the decent veil of
figure, the fact may thus be presented: If the pent-
up volume of some mountain lake can find but one
outlet, down into some one valley whose wasting
sands shall be fertilised into life by the rushing
waters, and if the due season be not come for the
flood-letting, then it is better that the valley be
hidden from the covetous lake by some great dam
(or slender screen) of custom.

The women were neatly clad in Bokhara patterns
of the cheap silks, which give colour to brown
humanity in Central Asia. When I wondered,
through Achbar, where our hostess did her shop-
ping, "From the caravan," she said, " Have you
ever been to Yarkand, only ten days away to the
north-west?" "No." "Or to Leh, only ten days
away to the southward?" "No, the caravans pass
two days from here." So this happy, incurious
female had never seen the bazaars, palpitating with
men and women, though to say ten days' journey
there is as a few hours to our nervous selves. Had
she not, for neighbours, those whom we had left
three days ago? Yes, she had even seen one Euro-
pean before, when in another camp. Was not her
existence full enough ?

When, a few days later, we struck the main trail
beaten by the foot-fall of the centuries we felt that
we were again suddenly caught in the whirl of life's
currents. Now caravans were met — one, two, or
three each day. Now we got tobacco and sugar;
we even had news of a friend, the Hindoo Aksakol
from Yarkand, en route to his old home in the Pun-
jab and now just a day ahead of us. All the while

Glaciers, Yaks, Skeletons 113

we were gaining elevation, the cold growing sharper ;
water carried in ice-cakes to provide the dry camps ;
fuel in precious bundles on camel-back, two stretches
of four days each being wholly without vegetation.
When we mounted the great Karakoram Pass we
were eighteen thousand three hundred feet above
the sea, the fourth time we had exceeded eighteen
thousand feet since leaving Polu, The route, which
is often designated by naming this pass, is abomi-
nable, but the divide itself, while rough and cold, is
not perilous save when snow-covered. We crossed
without difficulty, but were reminded of the true
merit underlying the reputation given to the spot,
by an almost unbelievable number of horse-skeletons
which blaze the way for more than a day's march
on either side- Where the death-harvest had been
most rich, they could be counted a hundred to the

L quarter mile. Legs ridiculously in the air, heads
absurdly ducked between legs, backs broken, backs
curved, necks defiantly lurched upward, rampant,
bodies half set up on haunches, every possible fan-
tastic position was seen, as resultants of three forces
— rigor mortis, gravitation, and vulture. Thus in
regions uninhabitable, death remains the only evi-
dent monument of the transient life that ventures
here.

Throughout the vast length of the Karakoram and
Himalayan ranges Nature seems to have raised these
tremendous masses that here, wrapped in spotless
white, she might sleep undisturbed by her inquisi-
tive progeny, her enfant terrible, restless man. But
in vain. Children of the desert, children of the
delta, led by love of gain, led by lust of war, for

1 14 Tibet and Turkestan

thousands of years they have climbed and crawled
over the frowning mountains. Religion too has cast
its spell over the minds of men, to send them across
these uplifted sands and snows, some uttering the
battle-cry of Mohammed, some chanting Buddha's
peaceful name. And after the fever of it all reigns
Icy Death.

It was the chill hand of night which drew us into
the unwonted life of Camp Sasar, the bourne to
which our Kirghiz led us, the term of their travel,
the limit of the camel's usefulness. Here were en-
closures, unroofed walls of stone, mute prophecies
of return to the world of man. The lune, the demi-
lune of brooding nature's refuge were now taken , it
remained to storm the citadel's self, — the bleak
heights of snow and ice which put a cruel crown on
Sasar's head. It had been hard to understand Ach-
bar's report of this strange sentinel-post of com-
merce. We had learned that it was a point of
exchange and of deposit for goods of all kinds, but
that, save for the passing caravan men, it was still
"Adam Yok." How can precious bales be left,
guarded only by the untenanted rocks? Yet so it
is — opium lies here in many two-hundred-pound
masses — left by Kirghiz or Turkestan's caravans
which turn backward to the north, taking with them
bales of silk or cotton, which, perhaps a month
before, were here deposited by some yak caravan,
shuttling between Leh and Sasar. Meanwhile
caravans have come and have gone, "through"
caravans of ponies paying tribute of dead to the
mountain spirits, and "shuttle" caravans of camels
working between Sasar and the north.

Glaciers, Yaks, Skeletons 115

Opportunity breeds the act, and here the Euro-
pean would look for theft and deem it a wrong
almost condoned, provoked by negligence. But
this upheaved world is only seeming wide. The
perilous track which we ha,ve followed is its whole
n idth, for man ; and some hundreds of Ladakis and
Varkandis, bound in a sort of acquaintance-guild,
are its population. Familiar to each other are they,
nor less familiar their yaks, camels, and ponies.
These honest brutes, in conspiracy with the very
snows and sands, spread over this too-narrow world
their tell-tale tracks, the entangling meshes of a
Bertillon system ; and the keen Hindoo merchants,
squatting at Srinagar, Leh, Kashgar, and Yarkand,
those master minds which defy nature for traffic's
sake, would not easily let go the unseen threads
which bind the caravan-man; they are harmless
guiding threads if the opium and the silk find their
true way over the passes to the destined recess of
the noisy bazaar, but sure strangling ropes if aught
should go awry. So honesty salutes necessity as her
mother, and the riches of the Hindoo may be left for
days visited only by that blustering roundsman, the
night wind.

We were three caravans camped cheek by jowl
among Sasar's rocks, all content with much hot tea,
wherein was brewed also a certain sense of brotherly
love, of sympathy with each other, compacted to-
gether in struggle against the night, the mountains,
and the bitter cold. Even the luxury of giving to
the poor was not denied us, shaggy-haired, dark-
faced men from the Balti country coming to the
camp-fire, asking bread and warmth that they might

Tibet and Turkestan

continue some hard, wild venture across the mys-
terious mountains stretching westward.

One of the caravans of Sasar was that of our old
friend, the Aksakol of Yarkand. What a clear-cut
face he had ! Our Eurppean type seems gross when
set against the bronze cameo features of the high-
bred Hindoos. And such hospitality in his wel-
come, in his congratulations over our escape, in his
pleasure over this chance meeting within the heart
of the great mountains! His little tent, where we
sat to smoke and tea-drink, seemed, because of his
kindness, a nest-like home, and Achbar, squat in
the tent-door, redeemed himself with fluent phrases,
employing at least fifty words. And all this court-
esy, this true charity and gentlemanly spirit, grew
out of a stomach which had not known meat — no,
not even pre-natally — for generations unnumbered.
His caste (one of the subdivisions of the four basic
castes) forbade that animal life should feed on animal
death.

It was a glorious, breathless, freezing struggle we
made on the morrow, up and over the great glacier
and the vast fields of feathery whiteness. Starting
at sixteen thousand five hundred feet, we were soon
testing the thin, keen air of eighteen thousand feet
elevation ere the icy crest was gained. And from
the serene, glistening heights five thousand feet
above us we felt the reproving eyes of the Himala-
yas looking down upon the toiling ants that strove
and sank and rose again in the rifted green, in the
drifting white. The vision that comes back to
me is one of supernal clarity ; across it, here and
there, a veil of snow-born, wind-driven mist ; pressing

Glaciers, Yaks, Skeletons tij

through it, a line of small black figures, men and
yaks and ponies, surging slowly forward to some
end known only to these heavily burdened, uncouth
Tibetans striding cheerfully in the van of the pant-
ing column. Sound is dead. It lives again in the
heavy grunt of some shaggy beast as he slips, re-
covers, and struggles forward. Then up to the
high, clear heaven floats the wild song of the moun-
taineers. It rings in the empty air, a triumphant
bugle-cry flung into the face of Mother Nature,
who, with icy fingers, would slay her children and
shroud them here in the eternal silent snows. It is
a brave, confident, manly note. By memory's trick
comes back to me, as my soul rises to the carol,
another song of Asia — the last-heard music ere this
— three months agone, in fetid Bokhara. *T is the
low whining and womanish drone of the boy bay-
adere, the voice of weakness and of shame.

And if, indeed, in the tired tumult of the city
the only concord heard is that which sated luxury
sounds, forget not that Asia has yet her mountain-
tops and her mountain tribes, who shall lift their
incorrigible heads to shout and to echo the cry of a
strong man's heart. We may spurn the heavy-eyed
sloth of the crowded town, but this man of the hills
is our brother.

Another memory of the great glacier is that which
pictures two among the exhausted toilers, slow,
overcome, but persistent. Last of all were they to
reach the spent camp at nightfall. They had joined
us near the Kirghiz tents, the good Hadji (pilgrim)
and his wife. Bound from some obscure town in
Western China, they had reached Yarkand in sixty

Tibet and Turkestan

days; had, through mischance, been separated from
the caravan with which they journeyed thence; had
been befriended by the nomad Kirghiz, had waited
ten days for our coming, and for another ten days
had now been our patient, courteous companions.
Each rode a stout pony, which must carry also a
twenty days' provision of bread and tea, and such
thick clothing as was not permanently worn on the
body. No daintiness in this, my lady fair, but if
your husband be full of zeal for the life to come, if
your duty and your pleasure be to follow him, and
mayhap gain heaven also, if you live in Western
China, and if Mecca lie across vast deserts, titanic
mountains, burning sands and freezing snows, then,
O lady fair, you must, like the rest of us, Hadjis
and explorers, bundle your delicate body in many
warm folds and leave it there for many cold days.
The good man had already won the green turban,
but now his soul yearned again for the sacred city,
and this time he goes to live in the shadow of the
Kaaba until his spirit shall have been caught up to
its awaiting joys, welcomed home by the compas-
sionate Prophet, whose word is the Law. And she
goes with him, a plain, brown woman, forty-five or
more, unconscious of her heroism.

She has done more for duty on earth and for hope
of heaven than you, average man or woman, may
dream of doing. Her home life was of scant com-
fort, — you would consider it hard, indeed, — but it
was languorous ease compared with the strain which
for weeks she had now uncomplainingly borne. It
is three months since she quitted some quiet shelter-
ing roof, another month or more ere they may reach

Glaciers, Yaks, Skeletons 119

the railway, then pell-mell in the crowded carriages
of slow trains, to Bombay or to Karachi. Thence, as
steerage passengers, a weary, suffocating voyage to
Jeddah; then the short, dusty, teeming, glorious
march to Mecca, the body begrimed and worn, the
soul enraptured. And if disease and death be met
on the way, they are seen to have angelic smiling
faces — they are the welcome guides to Paradise. Of
true truth in all this, nothing I suppose; but of
dream truth, of life-supporting, joy-making, faith-
begotten, heart- believed truth, a great deal. The
Mohammedan Hadji really believes in immortality
and makes light of things mundane, as you and I
would do if the creed of after-life were fixed in our
minds as is the creed of next winter's cold weather.

CHAPTER IX

TREES, TIBETANS, AND THE TELEGRAPH— PANAMIK
AND LADAK LEH

SPLENDID visions of mountain majesty, wrapped
in cloudy glory, ten thousand feet above Sasar's
crest; gorges riven as though by a giant's thrust at
the heart of mighty hills; quick avalanches crashing
down the startled slopes-, torrents of boulders, wait-
ing to be unleashed by some puny force, that they
may rush to fill a valley or destroy a fated caravan ;
such are the memories that come and go as now, in
slippered ease, I nimbly fly where once I crawled.
They are memories that will not tether to the pen.
But there comes another image more tractable. At
the turn of the dizzy trail, we look across the chasm
whose sides we scale, and lo ! a tree, the first to wave
familiar salute since fifty days or more. Then the
naked mountains, as if resenting the too intimate
prying of man, now soon to be seen in his dwellings,
began to clothe all their secret places with leafy
growth.

The eglantine overhung our crag-encircling path,
and its perfume subtly evoked memories of the wild
approaches to Harar in distant Abyssinia, of plan-
tation lanes in sunny Louisiana, of youth and man.
hood garlanded, perfumed by this sweet, bold,
flower. While our delighted eyes are not yet wonted

Trees, Tibetans, and the Telegraph lai

to these lovely sights, when we have climbed by
an ever-reversing, ever-returning trail far up the
granite facing of a high cliff, there lay far below us
the wondrous Nubra valley, green, gold, and russet
groves, yellowing fields of grain, and behold ! there
were men's houses! White, squared, well-roofed,
walled about, and set in orderly array, trooping
toward a goodly village called Panamirgh, A
nobler sight one may not see than this Himalayan
vale set against the far-shining snow -peaks from
which the high gods look down to bless. Here
Lamaism, sheltered by Sasar's icy rampart on the
north, by Kardung's glassy heights on the south,
still turns its prayer-wheels, flutters its painted ap-
peals to the passing breeze, builds its white shrines
more numerous than the living men, piles its myriad
carved stones on roadside monuments, sounds its
solemn drums, teaches Buddha's distorted word,
yet practises a peaceful life and a resigned death,
all unmindful of the thin streams of Hinduism or
Mohammedanism, flowing backward, forward, along
the road which time and Asia's genius, Patience,
have worn through the tranquil valley, over the for-
bidding mountains, this way to Yarkand and far
Kitai, and there to Leh, Kashmir, and all the In-
dian world beyond.

Dark superstitions may haunt the minds of these
remote valley people, but the outward expression
of religious feeling is seemly enough. The ckortins
— wayside tombs of saints and shrines for living
prayer— are white, shapely structures, so much be-
yond the building capacity of any one generation
of this sparse people that they attest the secular

122

Tibet and Turkestan

piety of many ancestors. So, too, the long, low
mounds whereon are placed countless stones re-
sembling this book in size, each bearing in neat
carving the myriad-throated prayer, "Om mani
padma Hum." From twenty to a thousand feet
in length, from ten to thirty feet in width, these
masses built up of rubble walls bear not less than
millions of these mute appeals for grace — and this
in a valley some sixty miles long, and containing
not more than six thousand souls. The people
have been hewn from the political body to which
they belonged. Lhasa is now only their spiritual
capital since the Maharajah of Kashmir, some forty
years ago, struck at Leh, where reigned a Ladaki
king who bent to the distant Dalai Lama's sway.
Now the king's palace is empty, and Kashmiri offi-
cials lord it over a land whose cue-wearing heads
avouch the long reach of China's emperor, overlord
to wide-stretched Tibet.

The present rulers from the West seem to have
emptied, by fright or famine, several of the big
monasteries, even here in secluded Nubra, distant
three hard days from Leh. But now again the
dingy red robes thread back and forth, carrying
consolation to satisfied believers. Groups are seen,
wayworn, of calm face and worthy mien, who are
just in from Lhasa, five hundred miles away.
They bring superstition, inspiration, and direc-
tion, as it would be brought from Rome to a
secluded valley in Spain or Mexico, by some pilgrim
priest of long ago. Perhaps because of the recent
exodus of priests to Lhasa, the lamas now, in all the
Ladak country, are not a devouring horde of locusts,

Trees, Tibetans, and the Telegraph 123

eating up the people's plenty, but seem to be a re-
served and dignified body not over-numerous for
men so profoundly religious as are the Tibetans.
Throughout this vale of delight there seemed to be
a reasonable comfort, and with less apparent dis-
tinction between very rich and very poor than I
have seen elsewhere. The houses are rather lar
generally of two stories and of solid build; the
monasteries, from three to six stories high, rose in
dignity from all but inaccessible rocks. Supplica-
tion to heaven is literally "in the air," Nearly
every dwelling floats a closely written flag of prayer.
Occasionally a vertical cylinder, set in an outer
niche, permits the passing worship to be made by a
respectful twirl, or the deposit of another prayer-
slip that shall find its way to others inside the cylin-
der; whence, if there be a listening God, I think its
spirit shall fly to Him, for in His sight there should
be no little and no big, no poor and no rich, no
ridiculous and no solemn in religious ceremonial.
Your softly breathed prayer, but for the thought in
your heart, is only a vibration of the air. The
cylinder-prayer makes also a vibration of the air,
and as there is a thought behind it, the celestial
values may be equal.

In each village we were shown to some proper
place for receiving the stranger; abundant food was
procured, — that is, chickens, eggs, milk, and bread,
— and no effort was anywhere made to annoy us by
extortion. A pleasing drink, tasting 'twixt wine and
beer, cheered the thirsting palate. Curiosity to
watch our movements was strong but bridled. The
women looked frankly at us and merited ouradmiring

124

Tibet and Turkestan

glances at their comely features and their turquoise-
decked tresses. The men were genial, frank, and
dirty. We once more had become sensitive in
the matter of cleanliness, — we could again criticise
the unwashed, — for had we not bathed ? Yea, at the
first village, riding up the mountain-side near a
high-perched monastery, we found a hot spring, a
blessed gift from the Plutonian deeps! The awful
need which it subserved, the revelling joy which it
produced, give to that water a perennial current
through memory's greenest field.

The Maharajah of Kashmir was mighty enough
to send conquering armies from Srinagar, sixteen
marches distant from Leh, and reduce a country
whose military vigour had been sapped for ages by
partial application of the non-resistance principle —
dear to the hearts of Gautama and of Jesus. But
the Maharajah himself was not mighty enough to
escape the "protection" of a valorous European
people whose hearts, like those of all their brethren,
have never learned to love humility. So it came
to pass that in Panamirgh, twenty marches distant
from the nearest permanent British official, we came
upon a proclamation of King Edward's enthrone-
ment, avouched in proper English and hung in the
dak-bungalow. In such strange and outcast places
do the antenna? that radiate from London and Pekin
now learn to touch each other, to irritate, withdraw,
return, first at Leh, then at Lhasa, then farther
afield.

Thrusting aside all contemplation of the eventual,
the probable, and the vexed ethical, we rode merrily
on through this valley of sumptuous scenery,

Trees, Tibetans, and the Telegraph 125

ordered industry, inordinate piety, and average
morality. On the third day we were at the base
of huge Kardung. Its glacis of solid ice proved
steeper, its eighteen thousand feet elevation nar-
rower, than the front and crest of Sasar. The
ponies on which we had cantered through the low
lands (twelve thousand to thirteen thousand feet
elevation) were quite out of the climbing if burdened
with aught save their own weight. They could have
done it on stones, but the deceitful ice laid hold
upon their feet and tripped them to a bone-breaking
fall. Substitution of yaks, happily found at the base
of the ice-slope, permitted us to top the slippery
height, whence we looked far down into the Indus
valley. Now, indeed, the way was won, for ere the
night had gone two hours, we were in the dak-
bungalow at Leh, and there were English maga-
zines, a few months old, but for us, contemporaries.
Lassoo had told us of the Padre Sahib — we were to
see white faces again. Of these we found five all
told ; an Englishman and his wife, a German and
his wife, and a young unmarried Englishwoman, a
few months out, all of the Moravian Mission. Yea,
and there were others, baby faces in both house-
holds. It was the usual story — pathetic to all save
the actors.

For forty years this mission has been at Leh, and
there are forty poor Ladakis who profess some
sort of allegiance to the gods of the good sahibs.
Plainly, conversion is not supposed to be an intel*
lectual process. Its usual course may thus be de-
scribed : There is a dispensary whose bottles and
powders affect the bod y. There are brilliant chromos

126

Tibet and Turkestan

shown before dispensation of medicine. They repre-
sent, crudely enough, certain stirring scenes related
in the Bible, The sahib, who knows the secrets of
the bottles, tells the wondering yokel that here,
wearing a purple or green robe, is God on earth,
here are His chosen friends, here, in sickly yellow, a
man new-raised from the dead. He tells them that
God on earth gave rules for living, the same in gen-
eral terms which they have heard from Buddha;
some particulars, and many European interpreta-
tions, constitute the bill of differences. Chiefly this
is told; If you believe that the God on earth, of
whom the sahibs now speak, is the true and only
such manifestation ; then, living as padre sahibs
live, you may inherit with them a glorious life eter-
nal. If you do not, the alternative is not pleasant.
I do not know how much it is emphasised.

As result of all this, — the medicine, the chromo,
the good sahib, son of a powerful people, — some
humble soul does now and then declare that he be-
lieves the God of the sahib and of the bottles to be
a good spirit for worship, and he is declared a Christ*
ian. No quibbling here about higher criticism, no
paltry inquiries into the authenticity of the Gospels,
no question of homoosian and homoiosian ; no tear-
ing to pieces of the miracles, no fright as to the
concordance between Jew-made prophecies and
Jew-rejected fulfilments. The sahib's medicine is
good, the sahib's chromo is brilliant, the sahib's
words are kind — then the sahib's God may safely
be acknowledged. Poor, dull brain, poor tired
heart! Rome and the Bishop of Westminster are
as far away from him as is the seventh pleiad, but

Trees, Tibetans, and the Telegraph 127

the mrriidnr Uo« gk l
life Sucnabramaad
quinine and gfrc Hint
sahib.

I think it would be a destructively parhrtir expe-
rience for the mm* wink s were it not that the
gentle hand of daily cu st o m leads as around the
sharp flints of disapp ointed emotion. The mission-
ary becomes attached in human ways to the human
lives around him, and the fierce letter of denun-
ciation against the unbeliever is unbelieved. The
simple, helpful days at the mission slip quietly into
years. Jesus will convert the heathen in His own
good time ; meanwhile faith, and, above all, interest
in the new wing of the dispensary, in the new baby
of last year's sole convert, in the water-on- the-knee
case reported yesterday, in the folklore that is being
slowly transformed into literature, in the last white
man who flitted through the station, in the papers
from home with their strange talk of wild excite-
ment on the Bourse, in the letters from home with
their talk of mother and sister and cousin — cvni
this growing now a little strange to the tranquil
hearts in the mission. Such lives have I seen in
Abyssinia, in Alaska, in Egypt, in Turkey, in Tur-
kestan, in Kashmir, in India. 'T is true my ptfli
glance could not read all that time had writ Oil
the exiled faces. Sometimes disease had drawn
its furrow across the once placid brow; somctiim I
the eyes still mourned a dead love Off ;i dfftd ambi-
tion. But generally, carried on the smooth ii.l-
of occupation in medical and school wmk. tlN
mission life passes the measured botiff nrStfa I H h

128

Tibet and Turkestan

contentment as you may find in household, in club,
or in office.

The predecessors of those whom we met in Leh
had grown old and had grown away from our world
in this sequestered western capital of Lamaism.
Age had come on to stale their powers, but not their
interest in this Himalayan home. Much persua-
sion, we were told, was needed to start them on
the twenty days' march to Rawal Pindi, where the
shrieking locomotive should remind them of that
noisy civilisation which was their birthright.

It was a stiff climb which took us up to the mon-
astery, temple, and palace, all looking protect ingly
down upon white houses, half hid by trees, hay-
covered roofs, and broad bazaars. In the temple is
a great statue of Buddha thrusting its broad shoul-
ders through the roof, the head sheltered by an
added structure. One mounts a stair in order to
look into the quiet, benignant face. Here is no
agony of the Crucified. Repose of self-submersion,
of self* immersion, of the "dew-drop in the ocean"
— that is the motive of a Buddhist artist. This was
Gautama's dream long time ago, and the dream has
been. in the minds of millions since, and men have
tried to carve and paint this dream into the attitude,
into the face, into the very hands of Buddha statues,
hoping that other men, gazing in rapt vision, might
also have this dream, and that these many should
try to live it, and thus be led away from self, the
sooner to fall, formless, calm, as the dew-drop in
the ocean. For further guide to him who gropes,
candles are set at the feet of the statue, as saying,
"Here is eternal light I "

Trees, Tibetans, and the Telegraph 129

The Christian looks through such symbolic lights
and sees the suffering martyr, save where Rome, in
substitution, answering the heart's cry for beauty
and for love, has set Mary's beatific face; then,
above, he sees the radiance of the risen Saviour who
beckons to Him, to the self, and smiles a welcome
to that self in its eternal individuality. How should
the souls of men be gloriously tried if each might
meditate quiet hours; first in a noble cathedral, with
its via cruets, its saints, its woman-god, its Christ
crucified and triumphant; passing thence to a near-
by temple, where the silent, brooding peace of the
Buddha might be contemplated while time and self
slip unnoticed by; then, moving the body but a
stone's throw, entering a lofty mosque, untenanted
by statue or by picture, unfurnished save by the
Koran on a reading-desk, empty save of the felt
presence of the only God. This was an insistent
thought as we wandered through the sanctuaries on
the high hill at Leh. At my side one, a priest of
Christ; another, reverential before the Buddha's
altar which he daily tended ; and, waiting at the
door, faithful Lassoo, looking toward Mecca as the
sun sank behind the Himalayas.

The king's palace, a rambling, uneven, dark but
imposing structure, is now unpeopled. Across the
Indus, yonder a dozen miles away, lives the illus-
trious, once royal, family, poor but honest. Power
has gone to the Dogra, and his power in turn has
become but a mirage, floating at the pleasure of the
British sun. One of the passions of kings all the
world over (this does not include Napoleon) seems
to be that for private chapels. Our Ladaki monarch

130 Tibet and Turkestan

worshipped in several elaborately furnished sanctu-
aries, one of which had not been opened for years,
it was said, when an obsequious attendant showed
us its unprovided altars.

On a high balcony or rampart, outside the palace,
queer little flags were flying, efficient to protect the
royal residence from devils, we were told. But that
may be symbolic. To European minds it would
seem much more important to know how to get
water into the palace than how to defy devils out of
it. Our own forefathers of the Middle Ages like-
wise put their monasteries (can a monastery supply
forefathers?) and their castles in just such impossible
places as these Tibetan buildings occupy. It is
humiliating to think that our monks were probably
equally dirty with the Lamas, and more obviously so
since the dust of which we are all made has, in these
people, been left in its native hue — and brown upon
brown is still only brown.

CHAPTER X

LADAK LEH TO RAWAL PINDI— FROM YAK TO RAIL-
WAY VIA PONY TRAIL, OVER THE HIMA-
LAYAS, INTO THE VALE OF KASHMIR

WHEN we had seen the sights of Leh and bid
watched its four thousand people pour along
the bazaar, when we had broken bread with the
hospitable missionaries, when we had sent the tele-
grams that quieted fears at home, then came the
breaking up of our little force, Mir Mullah had m.i
been willing to brave the Karakoram route ; ha had
left us at the Kirghiz camp, and his prayers by this
time were rising again from a Kashgar roof. Lai-
soo (who was here in the bosom of one of his several
families) and Achbar, must go with us to Srinagar,
for there were no English along the greal caravan
road from Leh to Kashmir, and we must make shift
to speak with the attendants at dak bungalows.

Because you have probably read Kipling, that
word has gone into my text unexplained, but by
some scurvy trick of fate you may be outside the
Kipling pale; then, for you, dak-bungalow is post-
road house. They are open to all white travellers
and to big natives. You are supposed to have your
own bedding, and it is best to have with you any
European food which you chance to crave. 1 he
dak-bungalow is a shelter, has several room?

i3t

132

Tibet and Turkestan

sometimes chairs. Your servants care for you as
best they can, and you put down in a book found
in the bungalow an entry of the rupee which you
have paid the native attendant, and which goes to
the up-keep fund. The whole caravan route is well
kept. There is a British Commissioner, assisted by
a native, to look after it.

Mohammed Joo and Osman, faithful, humble,
uncomplaining, these two would go back to Yarkand,
and they must hasten over Kardung, Sasar, and the
Karakoram, that the snows of coming winter might
not fatally entrap them, or imprison them idly in
Ladak. Grateful for the backsheesh which their
courage had so generously earned, they left us, and
out of our sight faded two who shall live in our
hearts, eminent citizens of that republic of the affec-
tions into which the memory of the traveller intro-
duces men of every colour, every tongue, every
creed.

Now we are off again, clattering through the
Himalayas, two stages in each day, changing ponies
at every post. For two or three days we are still in
the country of the Tibet people: long, black, and
dirty cues, three-cornered hats, rusty lama-gowns,
fluttering prayers, graven stones, rude shrines in
high places, eyrie monasteries, the scant, laborious
fields rock-anchored on the steep hillside, huddled
villages, the sinuous and sparkling Indus, the un-
attainable heights of snow crowning the barren slopes
— such was the ever-changing, ever-recurring vision
which fleeting day disclosed, while night was for
deep sleep. Then at a turn of the trail we were
again, and for the last time, suddenly ushered into

Ladak Leh to Rawal Pindi 133

the serene presence of the Buddha, where he stood,
carved in the living rock, as if the impersonated
Earth should to her toiling children say: "Peace —
let the dewdrop to the ocean fall."

Just a moment's meditation, then we cantered on,
out of Lamaism, and slept in another world, a pukka
Mohammedan village. Pilgrims are met in the fine
feathers of new preparation ; they have but yester-
day bade good-bye to homes which shall not see
them until they return, glad and crowned with the
green turban of the Hadji. A dozen of them were
sheltered one night by the same roof under which
we had found place for our bedding. When the
waking hour had come, I lay awhile amazed, sor-
rowful, hearing from the neighbouring sleeping-
rooms such groans and cries as we give to our
dearest dead. Alas? has misfortune already joined
their caravan? Has Death so soon struck at those
who go gladly to meet him, but who would first win
the Prophet's smile? Perhaps I may serve them in
their sudden distress, perhaps the loved one is not
yet dead, and even that minimum of European
medical science which is mine may happily win in
the struggle with disease. Achbar, lethargic with
cold and sleep, is called — sympathetic messages are
carefully set forth. Unmoved by the wailing, he
slowly answers, "That is prayer." Yes, but we
must try to help. "They cry for Ali."

Ah! now my heart is relieved. He whom they
mourn died thirteen centuries ago. His name was
Ali, and he was Mohammed's nephew. Many
people thought him a sort of prophet on his own
account and that he should reign as Caliph. Others

'34

Tibet and Turkestan

thought differently and enforced their opinion by-
thrusts of a poisoned weapon, which ended All's
life in the year 66 1 a.D. His saintly reputation
lived and grew, and these, our chance companions
of the caravan trail, were lamenting his demise, as
all good ShiTtes do and have done, for lo! these
centuries gone. But their grief is controllable. Its
expression lasts just so many minutes, and, as I re-
membered when the spell of sympathy was broken,
St rhythmic, more cadenced even than the rudely
musical lu-lu which the black women in Africa chant
in misfortune's hour.

The recovery of spirits takes place automatically
as soon as the wailing is ended. Our combined
cavalcade set off as merrily as if AH had never lived
or had never died.

Our speedy march soon left the cheerful mourners
far to the rear. We hastened on, dodging past the
slow caravans of commerce, meeting here the tins of
Caspian kerosene which once we saw in far Baku,
giving the courtesy of the road to a native governor
or what-not, whose escort swarmed the trail and
whose invisible wife rode for hours on end, silent
and stiff in her litter. We chatted (you may imagine
chatting through Achbar) with coolies who pack
dried fruits two hundred miles or more across the
Himalayas, fifty pounds, pig-a-back; we talked with
a golf-stockinged, English-speaking, joke-loving na-
tive Commissioner, fresh from Kipling's pages, who
proposed a drink and mystified Anginieur by calling
it a "peg," and then we crossed the Zoji Pass, thus
ending all hardship and dropping into fair Kashmir.
This pass is not quite twelve thousand feet high,

Ladak Leh to Rawal Pindi 135

but it gave us a hard struggle through a new-fallen
snow. It is an ugly spot, claiming native victims
almost every winter and stopping (or several months
of each year the thin stream of official or sporting
travel which sets toward Leh. There were twenty-
five Europeans up and down during the summer
which had just ended as we, the last birds of the
season, made our escape from the Himalayan
mountain-cage, to spread an easy wing over India's
open plains.

We haltingly trudged the steepest slopes; the
ponies rolled and lunged heavily in the belly-deep
snow, losing the trail on dangerous side-hills, and
finally we had once more the joy -killing experience
of discharging the animals and man-handling the
loads. But night found us under smoky shelter —
we rejoiced in our success — and the morrow! Arc
there not a few days in your memory which are
garlanded for their beauty and are perfumed by
their happiness? — the day you learned to swim, the
day you went to college, the day you left it, the
day you were engaged, your wedding-day, the day
you won your first case, the day your underwriting
was complete, the day you were elected to the office
that sought you, the day your story was accepted?
Such a day comes to him who, breasting still the
Himalayan snows, out from the Himalayan naked-
ness, rides down from Zoji Pass, viewing the glorious
vestments of the Sind, where it rushes to sink on
the fair bosom of the vale of Kashmir, Hindoo,
Afghan, Persian, and Arab have seen and sung this
Eden, whose riches of spreading branch, clinging
vine, brilliant flower, and sparkling stream have fi

Tibet and Turkestan

ages fed the famished souls of travellers, incoming
from all the bleak mountains that guard it. Love-
liness, that would charm the senses in any land, here
ravishes criticism of its censure and receives from
flattered imagination the crown of perfect praise.
By nature's unwonted opulence sober judgment is
bribed, and declares that here is every tree and
shrub and flower that would delight the eye in gaz-
ing wide "from China to Peru." Set against this
sudden magnificence the splendid verdure of Cha-
pultepec, of the flaming Catskills, or the Abyssinian
Nile all seemed to me but grudging penury ;
so false is memory, so powerful is the force of
Now.

If the soul be but ripe for it, a gentle hill in Surrey
may outrear the mightiest Alps. But as we exult-
ingly galloped forward there was no introspective
scalpel that might pare the beauty which filled our
hearts. Absolute, relative — no matter. Life be-
came precious because it contained this waving of
green, golden, and red banners, and each of us could
ride through the rich carnival as a king to his pre-
pared heritage. We had come into the vale of
Kashmir through its most beautiful gateway, and
we were among the few Europeans to thus have the
great canvas flung before them, for the first time,
from this point of view. The general travel into
Kashmir has been from west and south to Srinagar.
If then Ladak be sought, the traveller goes up the
Sind, as we came down. But the great lower plain
will already have shown him glorious views (though
a sparser beauty), and perhaps the piled-up riches
of the narrow valley will not be deemed by him so

Ladak Leh to Rawal Pindi 137

splendid as to us they seemed, coming out from
months of travel in naked lands.

One starry night we spent in this enchanting spot.
Near by t the Sind curbs his impetuous speed and
purls a gentle way, while his valley opens a gracious
door to those who come up from the flat, teeming
field below. The morning gave us sunshine, fresh
eggs, good ponies, and light hearts. To ask more
than this is avarice. And now if the eye were for a
moment sated with the leafy luxury spread before
it, there were men and women to gaze upon — clear
eyes, graceful garments, upright mien, and some-
what of that Caucasian cleanliness which avouched
them as our kin.

Neatly uniformed natives were directing road-
gangs to smooth the path of commerce, and then
I knew that I smelled the blood of an English-
man, and, dead or alive, I should soon find him.
Ere an hour's ride had ended, ponies were seen
bearing such truly squared kit-boxes as are unknown
to native caravans, and coolies were met, shoulder-
ing gun-cases which fairly cry out in leathery tongue,
"We were made in England!" Lassoo and Achbar
mingle in the train: "This is a Sahib's caravan?" —
"Of course."— "And the Sahib?"— "He is there."
Aye, there he was, and the very back of him all
British, from the comfortable outing-gear which he
wore, to his imperturbable tread which puts sur-
veyors' marks on the vale of Kashmir and makes it
an extension of Regent's Park. His welcome was
not the less courteous, but his measured surprise
was the greater when the two white men who bore
down upon him proved to be not JJritish, but a

*3«

Tibet and Turkestan

Frenchman and an American — rare birds in that
part of the world. Colonel Sullivan had started, a
few days too late, to make Zoji Pass and do a win-
ter's shooting in those fastnesses which, if they
would but yield the head of an Ovis Ammon, would
be for him Paradise enow. Note the distinction
between Colonel Sullivan's ideal retirement and
that of Omar Khayyam, The inhospitable wilds
of bleakest mountains, a gun, an arduous chase of
hermit brutes— that is one. The other

M A book of verses underneath the bough,
A jug of wine, a loaf of bread, and thou
Beside me in the wilderness;

Oh ! wilderness were paradise enow."

Mark particularly the absence of '*Thou" in the
first ideal.

There you have the conquest of the Asia that is
luxurious or literary by the British man, who has
two natures, one that loves and builds St. James
Street and the National Museum, and one that loves
and conquers the Himalayas.

Hindoo ruins, mysteriously suggestive; a good
hotel ; plenty of white people, sahibs and mem-
sahibs; golf grounds; gay marriage-boats on the
river boulevard; shops overflowing with fascinating
goods and oily smiles of the merchants; a meretri-
cious palace rising, effective withal, from the water's
edge and hiding the Maharajah's many wives; din-
ners, all mutton because the pious ruler will not
have beef slain in his realm ; a busy, comely people
filling all the bazaars; two-storied wooden houses,

Ladak Leh to Rawal Pindi 139

somewhat rickety but sufficient unto man's needs;
mosques and temples in neighbouring rivalry; splen-
did tree-lined avenues leading toward the mountains ;
caravans coming and going; dogs and babies under
one's feet in the narrow streets — such is Srinagar
with its hundred and thirty thousand souls domi-
nated by the great hill Fakht-i-Suleiman — Solomon's
throne — whose crown is half-temple, half-fortifica-
tion. Around it waving green fields, which are cut
by roads straight, smooth, and beautifully shaded.
And beyond the fields ever the white guardian
mountains. The whole valley is such a spot as
would be chosen by the high gods (if they had not
invented man) for exclusive garden-parties, with the
rabble of lesser gods peeking enviously over the
walls. Gods failing, the English will doubtless take
and "preserve" it.

Had not the home-fever now laid fast hold upon
us, we should have lingered in this fair lotus-land.
Our horseback days were past. We were now to
roll on the king's highway, four good wheels beneath
us. Three days, and sixty miles 'twixt rising and
setting of the sun, would let us gain Rawal Pindi,
lying over the western range. These are not tower-
ing mountains like the Himalayas, but high enough
to have cut off Kashmir from the greasy touch of
the locomotive, high enough to have given for ages
almost a separate history from that of the surround-
ing countries. Englishmen in Srinagar still speak
of "going down into India." Most of those who
hot-weathered in the English hotel had already
"gone down," as we were now well into November.
It cost us a pang to turn our backs upon Lassoo and

140 Tibet and Turkestan

Achbar, who must hasten over the Gilgit route to
Kashgar. Lassoo had compounded in some way
with his Ladaki wife and no longer talked of spend-
ing the winter in Leh. In parting with these faithful
servants we were definitely closing a short, eventful
act in our life's drama, an act in which both of them
had nobly played their allotted parts. So, it was
with a yearning back to the Chang, the great, deso-
late, high plains, and to the humble companions
who had shared our toils, that we jumped into the
impatient tonga and were swept down the royal road
to the Outside. And the Outside is, first, Rawal
Pindi, which is on the railway, then all India lying
before us. It is in the guide-books and in Kipling.
You may drink it as beer from the guide-books or
sip it as nectar from Kipling.

CHAPTER XI

A LITTLE STUDY OF THE MAP

POLITICAL history is as the flesh applied to the
dry bones of the skeleton, geography. Study
of the one implies knowledge of the other. Were
we not, from youth up, generally familiar with the
geography of those countries whose history most
concerns us, we should the more clearly and often
be brought to consider a relation which is obscured,
even by its familiarity. The osteology of Central
Asia and Tibet is peculiarly important to a study of
Asian politics because of its unusual characteristics.
While the field for exploration there is still con-
siderable, yet the important outlines have been well
determined by recent travel. To the practised eye
the map (opposite page ) will be, perhaps, more
instructive than textual description, but a n'sumt in
words will aid the general reader.

[Let us begin our survey at the point where we crossed
the Russo-Chinesc frontier on the way from Osh to
Kashgar — in the Alai Mountains, approximately 75 east,
40 ° north. Using round figures for all distances and lo-
1.1 1 ions, let us now go north-east twelve hundred and fifty
miles. We shall then be at the top of Mongolia, 95
east, 53° north. Everything west of this line is Russian,
everything east of it Chinese — at present, — and our top

141

142

Tibet and Turkestan

point is within two hundred miles of the Siberian Rail-
way. Now go east one thousand miles — Russia to the
north, China to the south, — the railway generally parallel
to our line of march, and two hundred miles away, W«
have reached the western tip of Manchuria — but the dis-
tinction between Manchuria and Mongolia, both being
Chinese territory, is not politically important. We may
go eastward another two hundred miles, into Manchuria,
making this second line twelve hundred miles in length
— east and west. Now strike south-westward twelve hun-
dred miles, — on a line nearly parallel to the first one, —
and we shall have left Southern Manchuria and Northern
China proper (the China of the eighteen provinces) to
the east, enclosing Mongolia, lying to the west; now
westward, on ■ line which refuses to be even approxi-
mately straight, for it must follow a curve of the gTcat
Altyn-Tagh— Kuen-Lun range, but which is roughly an
east and west line. We have now nearly closed our 1 200-
mile trapezoid. We have reached the Pamirs; and by
running north about three hundred miles we are back at
the starting-point, having enclosed the area known as
Mongolia, and in the south-west corner of the pentagon,
which is nearly a trapezoid, we have skirted the region
known as Chinese Turkestan — roughly, one million and
a half square miles, one half the area of the United
States. Now for Tibet

Go back to the south end of the third line, near the
lake known as Kuku-Nor; thence go southward, cross-
ing mountains and streams if you can — a hard journey
of, say, six hundred miles. You have the southern part
of China on the east, Tibet on the west. Now another
twelve-hundred-mile line, trending a little north of east,
—Assam, Bhotam, Sikkim, and Nepal are on the south;
Tibet on the north, — and you have been cresting the
Himalayas all the while. The valley of the Brahmaputra

A Little Study of the Map 143

has been crossed at its unexplored elbow, where it turns
south, and you have seen it in the great valley north of
you, where for hundreds of miles it flows from west to

I and is known to the Tibetans as the Tsang-po.
Lhasa is in the valley — not far from the great river.
Now to complete the investiture of Tibet, run a line
northward from the west end of the last line, a little
west of Nepal's north-west corner; make it about four
hundred miles long to join the Kuen*Lun range, and you
will thus enclose Tibet, lying to the east of this last line,
with Kashmir and part of the north provinces of India
to the west of it. Thus your straight lines are, respec-
tively, 1200, 600, 1200, and 400 miles in length — about
six hundred thousand square miles in area. Every foot
of the boundary is in great mountains— on their tops or
crossing impossible gorges of rivers that flow out of
Tibet; none of those you have crossed flow inward, be-
cause Tibet is high — very high — and the rivers are seek-
ing the seas. We have crossed, in drawing the first line,
north and south, six hundred miles — the headwaters of
the Hoang-ho, the Yang-tse-Ktang, the Mekong, the
Salwin, and the Irrawaddy — these are all the great rivers
of China, Siam, and Burmah. Going eastward we have
crossed the Brahmaputra and the headwaters of the
Ganges, or its northern tributaries. Going north we
have crossed the waters of the Indus. These are all the
great rivers of India. On the northern boundaries of
Tibet we have crossed the headwaters of the Keria, the
Khotan, the Karakash, and other smaller streams — all
going to swell the Tarira or to be lost in the sands. And
the Tarim flows inconclusively into an inland lake, Lob
Nor, which has no visible connection with the sea.

And so it was also for running the boundary of Turkes-
tan and Mongolia, except for the desert streams from
Tibet, just mentioned, and the Kizil Zu near Kashgar,

144

Tibet and Turkestan

also a Tarim affluent. We found nothing coming in — -
all going out. We crossed, or passed near, the head-
waters of the Anion Daria (Oxus), the Syr Daria(J .\
artes), whose waters go to the great Russian lake, the
Aral Sea, so-called. Then proceeding on the long lines,
drawn north-east, then east around Mongolia, we could
cross or see the sources of the Irtysh, the Yenisee, the
Lena — all the tribe of Siberian streams that seek the
Arctic Ocean.]

We may now give meaning to the long circumfer-
ential inspection — an airy journey of seven thousand
four hundred miles. It is evident that we are deal-
ing with great plateaus, one much lower than the
other- The Mongolia-Turkestan region has an
average elevation of about three thousand five
hundred feet. The Turkestan region, separately
considered, and with which we are most concerned,
is at once a plateau and a depression, since it lies
much lower than the mountains surrounding it.
This characteristic is not so marked in the Mongol-
ian region, as the Gobi desert area is in a sort of
great terrace-form, stepping up to the surrounding
mountains eastward. The Tibetan plateau, in all its
northern (much the larger) area, is approximately at
sixteen thousand feet elevation. The great valley,
toward which the slope is more gradual from the
north than from the south, varies from thirteen
thousand to eleven thousand feet elevation ; Lhasa
is between eleven and twelve thousand ; Gyangtse,
Leh, and indeed all the other considerable towns
in similar region are at about the same elevation.

The whole of the three great regions we have

A Little Study of the Map 145

considered, Turkestan, Mongolia proper, and Tibet,
may be broadly put down as desert, save for a few-
oases (chiefly artificial) and the narrow valleys, in
which there is some natural grazing, but which yield
valuable crops only to irrigation. There are some
regions of good natural grazing, considerable in ex-
tent in north-eastern Mongolia. But no important
concentrations of population are found except in
Turkestan and in the Tsang-po valley of Tibet.

Kashgar, Yarkand, and Khotan, which you have
patiently traversed with me, are the three big
towns. Lhasa, largest of Tibetan cities, is now
well understood to contain not more than twenty
thousand souls. The present inhabitants of all this
almost empty empire are much better fitted to the
physical conditions than any European race. And
for commerce, the Chinese and Hindus will un-
doubtedly hold all the trumps as against possible
white competitors. Yet, despite all these frowning
facts, Tibet is to-day the scene of a great and bloody
political drama, in which the white man plays the
rdle of — hero or villain — which shall it be? And
to-morrow, the Turkestan theatre will probably open
a rival show, changing the dramatis persona and
the stage setting, but closely copying the plot that
unwinds itself in Lhasa.'

1 Some geological and minor geographical notes are given In an
Appendix, "A." They are taken largely from a paper read by the
author heforc the Royal Geographical Society, London.

CHAPTER XII

THE TIBETAN PEOPLE— POLYANDRY AND ItONAS-
TICISM

AT the foundation of Tibetan character there is
probably the Mongol nature; an East Indian
strain has come in from the rough watershed and
I at valleys of the trans-H imalayan world. To meas-
ure the relative value of these ethnic elements is
impossible. Nor is this greatly important in view
of a diminishing confidence in our ability to sharply
define the traits distinguishing those various stems
which constitute the early Eurasian family. The
lessons taught us by embryology indicate that the
differences must be less as we approach the begin-
ning of things, and we look more and more to
long-continued geographical and climatic effects for
explanation of existing divergences.

Even in adopting the highly probable theory of
multiple origins for our race, we are yet bound to
a recognition of the wide range and enormous force
of earth-environment lying between the pole and
the equator, between sea-level plain and mountain-
top, between rain-sodden swamps and arid desert.
So restless has man been, that history records not
a single example of a social body known to have
been subjected to but one type of physical environ-
ment during the period of its development from the

146

The Tibetan Pe?ple nr

bescsz^szzz-t. :- L:«s ~.i--srja.ge -r t? ics present
re£atrreiv hizh ilrftiies an-d i.2^1 litrrudes hire

of the Euphrates delta, from the salty breath of
Aral plains, from the freezing wines c: Siberian
forest, from the heavy exhalation •>: ^ i: -»* ;un^ie.
HoTr.tr remposite he may have been when £rsc

valley and ft* even less hospitable neighbo-ur-Cands,
be has. shire that time, been singularly free from
miscegenation, ar.d has had time :d develop a type
strongly marked by the very special conditions
which surround him. A similar isolation may be
noted of peoples in the far north, of the Arab in
his inaccessible deserts, of the Abyssinian in the
northern part of his hi^h plateau, of the Chinaman
in the core of his valley empire, of the African pig-
my in his ur.desired forests.

Unique physical features have, in each case, de-
veloped unique human traits, which shall be found
ineradicable within periods of ordinary historical
view. The process of "benevolent assimilation"
may then wisely be restricted to the control of
external relations and the introduction, slowlv. of

Tibet and Turkestan

a few of the material ameliorations which art has
given to human life. Add, perhaps, a regularly
and sufficiently paid body of public officials (always
a late invention of society), and we have reached
the- limit of healthful assimilation possible in a body
of such special organisation as the Tibetan state.
The constraint under which that state has developed
is chiefly to be found in the scant area of arable
land, the lack of a distributed rain-supply, and the
extreme elevation of the whole country. As to the
effect of this last very special condition we are un-
able to give definition. Certain physiological results
may, indeed, be determined, but just how these are
translated into physical traits we do not know. We
may assume, safely enough, that no such consider-
able difference of physical environment can be with-
out its due mental effect in man. It is not easy to
argue even from the known influence upon those
who suddenly enter these conditions back to the in-
fluence working itself out in the lives of those who
have never known sea-level conditions — neither they
nor their fathers for many generations before them.
The most frequent mental manifestation in the new-
Comer is an abnormal nervousness, often enough
Culminating in insomnia.

At Leh (eleven thousand eight hundred feet) we
were told that a certain British officer had found it
-•dingly difficult to sleep in the town proper,
and frequently descended to the Indus bank, find-
in this change of about one thousand feet enough
relief to insure norma] repose. Akin to this un-
pleasant demonstration of nervous excitement, is a
i ■ i tain elation, not infrequently felt, if great physical

The Tibetan People 149

effort be avoided ; and, in the long run of travel, this
may become a cheerfulness under difficulties which,
at lower levels, frequently induce heaviness of spirits,
if not actual discouragement. Certain it is that
every Tibetan traveller has met with conditions
which are always on the edge of being fatal to him,
yet in no recital familiar to me can I recall any ex-
pressions of that gloom which the honest traveller
in Africa or other lowlands has often recounted.
Certain also it is that in his struggle for life the
Tibetan is cheerful, almost gay. He is dirty — it is
not easy to be clean when you are poor and live in
a perennially cold country, where fuel always, and
water often enough, are in scant supply.

Would you not, O dainty reader, compromise
with your morning bath if it were frozen, if you had
no fuel but yak dung, if you must strip in a tempera-
ture anywhere below zero? Since, in spite of his
dirt, which is a depressing influence, the Tibetan is
still a cheerful being, he may fairly thank the thin,
keen air, the clear sunshine, the blue sky, for the
simple joyousness of his narrow life. But these, for
their good results, suppose a living, nourished body,
warm with the internal combustion of food. And
there 's the rub ! Nearly all the Tibetan fields have
been wrenched from the valley's arid flank, have
been terraced and revetted against occasional rain-
fiood, and then have been fed through a tortuous
ditch with water from the nearest mountain -stream.
The difficulty of thus obtaining workable areas is
great, or, in other words, the land supply in this
shut-away world being so closely limited, it is obvi-
ous that population must be correspondingly limited.

150

Tibet and Turkestan

The further difficulty of dividing small fields, which
must retain fixed relations to an irrigation system,
will largely affect the means which shall uncon-
sciously be adopted by society for its perpetuation
without increase. Here, indeed, we have the simple
relation considered by Malthus — the pressure of
population upon sustenance, — a relation obscured in
our world, where continued expansion into new lands
(either by direct immigration or by commerce with
new peoples) and continued invention, have com-
bined to fill easily an increasing number of stomachs.
But the Tibetans are so situated that their world
is apart ; it is for them almost as if it were all the
world — a narrow, snow-bound, treeless, upheaved
world, in whose rough creases and folds they must
scantily live or incontinently die. That some sys-
tematic check upon population should appear, to-
gether with the variable checks, war and pestilence,
is to be supposed. The relative indivisibility of the
land has, I believe, determined the particular social
forms, polyandry and monasticism, as such system-
atic checks. A marriage relation so unique as this,
standing quite on the opposite side of normal mono-
gamy from the more familiar variant, polygamy,
challenges attention and at once declares the exist-
ence of special predisposing causes. This is not the
occasion for insisting at length upon the generally
intimate relation of property to marriage relation.
It will be sufficient to summarise thus: In highly
developed societies, polygamy (including concubin-
age) suggests concentrated wealth and privilege.
Monogamy is democratic ; it suggests divided prop-
erty and privilege. Polyandry suggests poverty and

■i

(X,

The Tibetan People 151

indivisibility of property. If the last generalisation
seems hastily put in line with the two preceding and
more obvious principles, I think its truth may be
established by inversion of reasoning in considering
Tibetan conditions.

Suppose a family of three sons, without just now
inquiring into the marriage relations of their parents ;
suppose a patrimony of miserly fields, which are
barely sufficient to sustain the family in question,
and suppose this patrimony to be physically difficult
to subdivide; the house and court being obviously
indivisible, the fields practically so by reason of
their small individual areas and their relation to
water supply t Suppose it to be exceedingly diffi-
cult, nay, practically impossible, to have other fields
anywhere within a distance of hundreds of miles.
Suppose, in spite of these untoward conditions, each
of the three brothers to marry him a wife. We may
then postulate as follows : There will be a light
about the division of floor space; then' will be con-
tinued wrangling between the families; thru will l«
frequent and murder-making adulUius. and there
will be too many children to be fed from the meagre
field, hence child-killing, or fell disease, must cull
the o'er-rich crop. How then shall two objects
be accomplished, that of securing a certain sense of
unity in the conglomerate family and that of dimin-
ishing the number of births? However we might
have ingeniously devised other systems, it remains
that, impelled by the forces just described, the
Tibetans have evolved a custom by which, first,

rthe property goes into the control of the eldest
brother; second, the wife chosen by this eldest

'52

Tibet ami Turkestan

brother becomes also the legal spouse of the younger
twain. The children of this woman are the objects
of a common affection, and when one of her sons
shall have grown to full manhood, and shall have
married a wife chosen by his parents, he in turn
shall come into a primacy of power over the patri-
mony, his elders reserving just enough to prolong
their habitual comfort— not enough to prevent the
establishment of a new generation. And thus, in-
definitely, the cycle repeats itself; not less regularly,
not less blindly, obeying nature's demand for new
individuals, than elsewhere in more favoured lands,
by other forms.

Should some rare good fortune befall, then the
eldest brother may choose another wife, even a
third. And so it may be, if the first wife have no
children, though the property be not increased.
And even when the number of wives is equal to the
number of husbands, in polyandrous marriage, it is
thought that the fertility of the women is less than
if living in the monogamic relation, thus securing in
part, that restraint upon population which is most
fully developed when, as is often the case, the three
brothers have but one wife.

Chinese officials reported to M. Grenard that
female births are to male as seven to eight. If this
be true, we have here a second, unconscious effort
to diminish the surplus of unmarried women, which
would result from the one-wife and three-husband
marriage, taken as the type of polyandric unions.
But it is by no means the universal type. Equal
numbers of husbands and wives in one family are
frequently seen. The women not disposed of in

The Tibetan People 153

some form of polyandry are found in polygamous
and monogamous unions (not infrequent), in con-
vents, and in the loose life. As the various forms
of marriage operate to establish almost a balance of
sex-numbers, it results that nuns and prostitutes are
probably not more numerous than the correspond-
ing classes in monastic Europe.

The withdrawal of men into monastic life does not
affect the problem as directly as it would in a mono-
gamous country, since in the typical polyandric
family it merely results in a diminution, by one, of
the number of husbands married to the wife or
wives. It diminishes the number of women actu-
ally married under some form, only in so far as the
monk may be considered as belonging to a family
which might have enjoyed the luxury of mono-
gamic or polygamic marriage. Such monks are not
numerous. M. Grenard thinks that the various
forms of marriage are seen, as to frequency, in the
following order: Several husbands with several
wives; several husbands and one wife; one husband
and several wives; one husband and one wife.
Whether or not this be exact, it is obvious that by
giving legal recognition to this variety of unions,
the Tibetans have created an elastic system easily
adjustable to the economic condition of individuals
or communities. Relatively stable as are these aver-
age conditions in Tibet, it may well be supposed
that, in so far as they may be disturbed by war or
pestilence, there will be change in the position of
any particular type of union, appearing in the above
series, while the forces work toward the end of main,
taining a fixed population in times of normal peace.

'54

Tibet and Turkestan

That even this ingeniously flexible system has not
been able to prevent the considerable development
of prostitution goes without saying. That is a bye-
product of all systems, or rather it is the fixed and
necessary product of forces planted in us when we
were indiscriminate as are the unpropertied beasts,
and even more indiscriminate than we shall be when
socialism shall have swept away private property and
marriage with it. The nested wild bird, the laired
lion, and the housed man— those who have individ-
ually built or pre-empted houses for themselves and
their young, these are mated. But the man-pro-
tected barnyard fowl, the unsheltered grazing herds,
and the state-protected man, these are or will be
carelessly indiscriminate. And as we never find a
human society that is not in transition, bearing
marks of dead processes, so we never find a perfectly
symmetrical, definite marriage-system, or property-
system (these two are wedded), but we must ever find
irregularities, exceptions, vermiform appendices.

Our European-American world is one of private
property, tempered by state ownership and adven-
ture to wild land. Its marriage-system is one of
monogamy, tempered by adultery, with adventure
into the indiscriminate relation.

It is not improbable that other influences than
those just described have conspired to the establish-
ment of polyandry ■, as, for example, the need of
protecting women and children when separated for
long periods from that portion of the male popula-
tion which must be occupied in caring for distant
flocks. If one of three could remain, having at
heart the supreme interest of the Family, which en-

The Tibetan People 155

globes all his own personal rights and properties, he
would be held to a duty which works in favour of all.
It may further be supposed that the impossibility of
maintaining strict observance of the marriage tie,
under these conditions of absence, which must have
been more frequent in the past than now, has led to
the practical course of legalising, and thus control-
ling to good ends, an irregularity which would other-
wise breed destructive jealousies and cloud titles of
descent. The whole thing may be viewed as an
example of family co-operation carried beyond the
limits familiar to us, because the conditions pro-
ducing family co-operation in any degree are like-
wise carried beyond all limits familiar to us.

The very rigour of nature's restraints in Tibet has
required a more flexible marriage scheme. As there
is no such thing as specific morality in the abstract,
so there is, in the discussion of this system, no other
reasonable inquiry than this— Would the substitu-
tion of some other system, as ours for example, be
followed by greater or less product of human happi-
ness — happiness in this world ? That deep -searching
question will not be discussed in these pages. It
is sufficient to say that the best observers have re-
ported no special, considerable evil as traceable to
polyandry, and that, in general, social conditions
are, in the long run, adjusted, for the best good, to
the controlling physical conditions — that "best
good " never resulting in an extermination, but
only an alleviation of inherent evil in our lives.
We, the strong, should be therefore slow to impose
our methods upon those whose relations to material
nature are widely different from our own.

156

Tibet and Turkestan

The feature of Tibetan life which would next at-
tract attention by its relative unfamiliarity is the
great development of monasticism. M. Grenard
estimates the number of monks at five hundred
thousand in all Tibet. This obviously is inaccur-
ate, if, as further supposed by several observers,
the total population be about three million. Adult
males would then be about seven hundred thou-
sand. Of adult males, M. Grenard estimates the
monks to be about one-fourth; but he neglects to
work out the result of this assumption, which, for a
total population of three million gives approximately
one hundred and seventy-five thousand monks —
widely at variance with the first-given figure. The
lower total thus reached is far more probable. The
higher figure would, inversely, lead to a total popu-
lation of about ten million — obviously too giv
Dismissing any attempt at accuracy in totals (and
apologising to M. Grenard for seeing a single bad
grain in a heaped-up measure of soundest wheat)
we remain astonished at the high ratio which un-
doubtedly holds in this matter. In explanation of
it, we do not feel satisfied by a mere reference to the
well-known ascetic doctrines of Buddha. Monas-
ticism finds in those teachings, as in the gospel
of Christ, abundant authority, nay. more, a very
special favour, for its practices. Yet we have seen
monasticism pass almost entirely from the Christian
world — the doctrine meanwhile unchanged by any
subsequent revelation. And Buddhism has not
elsewhere produced such a full crop of adherents
(more or less formal) to its creed of abnegation.
The causes which filled Europe with monks in the

The Tibetan People 157

Dark Ages may fairly be taken as related to those
that now crown so many Tibetan peaks with high-
walled monasteries. The contrast between the
European situation during the centuries when mon-
achism flourished, and the situation now, in Europe
and America, when it does not flourish, may give
suggestion as to what are the special conditions
tending to develop an institution which is no longer
prospering in our world.

The most general and striking contrast between
the old and the new, in our Western civilisation, is
perhaps this, — a far wider present extension of set-
tled peace, a far greater development of physical
comfort, a far wider field for the fruitful application
of a man's labour to the piling up of treasure in this
world where moth and rust do corrupt. It seems
universally true that no inhibition in accepted creed
can effectively work to keep large numbers of men
from the pursuit of wealth, if that pursuit be rea-
sonably safe and reasonably productive. Vows of
poverty are taken by multitudes only when it is
difficult to escape poverty — 7villy nilty. Moreover,
poverty is a relative term, and certainly the self-
denial to which monks are pledged often enough
became a comfort greater than that enjoyed by the
average poor peasant in the brave and hungry days
of old. Communal labour added its store to the
gifts of a superstitious people, eager to buy celestial
favour through a purchased intercession measured
to the price. Relative also is obedience. Not more
exacting is the abbot, bound by the rule, than the
temporal lord who in feudal day owned the homage
of his followers as well as the land on which they

158

Tibet and Turkestan

lived. And

for the third

v — one cannot
strictly say that chastity also is relative, yet men
know the dark ways of compromise that have been
trod by those who failed to follow either the steep
heavenward path of observance or the flagrant way
of open breach.

In all the long record— from St. Augustine's pro-
test against the upstart ways of the low-born monks
unused to respect, down to the recommendation of
a Christian Pope in 1650 that certain monasteries be
closed, their revenues to go to the Venetian State
for the making of bloody war; in a hundred ways
we learn that the cloister was at once a chamber of
travail and of triumph for a few pure religious souls,
and, for grosser minds, a comfortable refuge from
the rough battle of life, or an alcove for crime. Its
occupant made a better bargain with this world
than many a poor devil outside, caught in the
meshes of a society marked by poverty for the
mass, privilege for the class, and turbulence for all.
Such was European society when it bred many
monks. Such is Tibet to-day, save that the tur-
bulence perhaps is less than that which existed
generally in Europe during monkish days. This
probably is due to the steady pressure from with-
out — from China — a directing force which has
permitted the churchman to control the state, thus
making his career more than usually attractive,
while rendering the suzerain's task less trying. If
the country were a fertile, temperate land, even
this ecclesiastic rule might not be bad enough —
economically bad— to prevent an accumulation of
wealth among the people and a subsequent revival

The Tibetan People 159

of lay power* But here nature seems to have
made permanent those conditions which favour
monastic development. Nor can it be doubted that
in spite of some moral decay (less, it would seem,
than in the shameful eras of European orders) there
is a certain civilising, conserving influence exerted
by bodies of men whose theoretical rule of life is one
of simplicity and charity, and who keep alive the
flame of learning among rude peoples. True, theirs
is the puerile learning which was so dear to the
Christian mind for centuries — so satisfying until this
world began to be made agreeably interesting.
And some may charge the monks with delaying
progress toward that betterment of physical condi-
tion which will alleviate the misery and eventually
lessen the ignorance of the people.

In an existence like ours, made up of inextricably
crossed cause and effect, we can see but a few se-
quences at a time. We do not know that an irrup-
tion of the Gauls, an establishment of the feudal
system, or an enraged Reformation, have been fol-
lowed by more, or less, of evil than would have re-
sulted from some supposed alternative course. We
only know that they existed ; that we may discover,
in close connection with them, certain elements of
pain, certain elements of pleasure; and that we are
blindly driven on to do and to undo. We may be
fairly secure in this, that the violent destruction of
any long-established institution by a force exterior
to the society which has produced such institution,
must generally be immediately followed by evil in
much greater proportion than good. The distant
future, perhaps, will balance the account ; yet

r6o

Tibet and Turkestan

uncertainty as to the result may well temper an ar-
dour for reform which often gratifies the sensibilities
of the reformer at the expense of his victim.

We (Christendom) have abolished Suttee— while
we have extended the opium trade. The occasional
immolation of a widow on the pyre was a dramatic
tragedy which offended us, while the commonplace
stage-setting of the hovelled opium-infamy spares
our nerves and thus protects itself. So it may be
when Tibetan institutions are held in the glaring
light of European examination; our sympathies,
which are but the furthest scouts of selfishness,
may cry an alarm, affrighted by evil in an unfamil-
iar form, and may strike at it hastily, not measur-
ing its true magnitude nor making survey of its
relations.

Imagine, in the European provinces of the year
J 200 A.D. , organisations whose powers should be
those of feudal lord and prelate combined; imagine
buildings which should be castle and cathedral in
one. Then you have, in part, the Tibetan monks
and their monasteries. Add to this imagination
something borrowed from the great overland traders,
lords of commerce, and you may then understand
the importance, in Tibetan society, of these bodies
of men who combine more functions than any
associations with which we are familiar.

With the complexity of function has come, of
course, a corresponding complexity of organisation.
First, there are the two great Orders — the Yellows
and the Reds — and several lesser ones. Each has
its General, supervising all the establishments of his
order. Each establishment has its head ; its officials

The Tibetan People 161

for spiritual and temporal duties; its candidates, its
novices, its full-fledged monks of two degrees. Sub-
ject to the temporal rule of the monastery — much
as in our feudal times— are the fanners of a certain
territory who pay their rents into the treasury of the
establishment. Nor have the monks been able to
stop their development within the lines of peaceful
activity. Rude arms hang on their walls, bows,
arrows, spears, and the mediaeval matchlock. Not
more ready to be hastened toward the Nirvana of
their creed than is the lusty Christian to grasp his
promised crown of personal immortality, these
monks, who are men, have given blow for blow in
that primitive competition which still holds Europe's
self under the thrall of its fierce charm. Territorial
rights within the land have been delineated thus by
force; attack from without has been met by bat-
talions of monks; and attempted rebellion of the
lay chiefs has been by them subdued. Indeed, by
virtue of their superior intelligence and organisa*
tion, a long era of quiet, a true pax eet /rsiiis/ica,
seemed to be stretching mild years before the
country when the storm of British anger fell upon
the land.

Special privilege in Tibet runs not only in favour
of the powerful religious bodies just surveyed, but it
also upholds a lay aristocracy of inherited wealth—
the term, of course, is comparative, for Tibet is poor.
The important lay functionaries of government are
drawn from this class. And indeed, the powerful
monks are frequently scions of the noble houses
— younger sons who find, in their sacred role, l
larger power than can now be otherwise secured.

l62

Tibet and Turkestan

The lower classes, therefore, have but little oppor-
tunity for individual advancement; more, however,
through the monastery than in any other way.
Pride of family is strong, marriages beneath one's
inherited rank are rare. As in all lands, the posses-
sion of exceptional wealth may put a young man or
woman into a class above that of one's birth — but
the opportunities for fortune-making are very few,
for reasons already outlined. In this respect, there-
fore, Tibet offers less hope (or fear?) of social revo-
lution than might have been held in Europe even
in her darkest hours. There, Nature invited, or did
not severely punish, the timid efforts of art and
commerce. Here, it almost prohibits.

Besides the ownership of their inherited lands, a
noble family may enjoy the control of certain State
lands, given instead of salary, for the exercise of
administrative function. Whenever this system of
irregular compensation is found, we may confidently
look for an equally irregular administration of just-
ice. Western civilisation is now outgrowing this
evil. The wide corruption in American legislative
bodies arises from a neglect of the sound rule of
fair and stated compensation for all public service.

A somewhat intimate knowledge of this evil has
been forced upon me in various affairs, and I do not
hesitate to affirm that many American municipalities
are conducted, in their legislative and police depart-
ments, with as much systematic corruption as has
been reported by European travellers and residents
in any Asiatic community. Our State legislatures
are bad also — not quite as bad as the municipal
councils. Our city judiciary is bad occasionally,

Friends of Ras Worki-, Abyssinia.

Photo by Mr. 1. H. Bttrd.

The Tibetan People id.i

bat not at all bad in comparison with I In- li^jlil.iiivn
bodies. Our higher judiciary is practically |miik
Our national legislature contains generally iiImmiI
five per cent, of members in both hou-iei who will
sell their votes for money, but probably would In .,|
tate to thus be brought to the suppoit u| any m. ,,„
ure believed by them to be really vh loin. M,..,|
frequently — and this is measurably Inn "I ,il| ||„.
bodies here mentioned — the bribe talo • '» uppiuvi., in
their unbiased judgments (if tiny tan In >mIi| \, t
have such) of those measures to will* It tin y it.|u.,i.
a vote unless purchased.

The five-per-cent. ratio of corruption foi tin i ,,„
gress of the United States is \r\vm it* n Inm.i.iy
approximation by Mr. Bryce in h i » .mImiIi.iU. |,.„,|,
The American Commonwealth. I had ll In mind win n
circumstances required that I should Vwtn I In uuui
ber, names, and prices of "approai ImI*I» " »„ »,»!»».».,
It is substantially correct. Nov/ noh tin m IhIIou to
our comments on Tibetan orjj.i mi«m! ion A Mi mm* m
are practically without rryuUr \»ay »«l .111/ liml
The government of a city i» fyni'd »»v« 1 to tin mi
and they take their pay ai betil lb* y « >m I In ' ,i.it».
legislators are paid a little. In t* j{lont win »» lMri|<
is 1 still relatively simple and In* 'p« " >'/' , l In pn? h
sometimes adequate; tin: corruption l , l» .. In *,.o
national legislature tin: \m-/ i; lufli'l'ffl to tin imp
port in comfort, and without mod' in Iu.mm/, of >««i
ordinary family. The corruption I, .till I*.*., |„
our higher judiciary, the p;iy, "J"'' »''* !»«»?• . I«i ■»!«#
ficient for comfort, and Is, in nniny ' .» >» j, msniM d for
longer periods than thow fixing th' \* y,UU\\-n I' »mm.
There is substantially no corruption. In city poln*>

164

Tibet and Turkestan

organisations the pay is generally fair and con-
stant. The corruption here is due to two causes:
example of the aldermen, and extraordinary power
over public women, saloon-keepers, and gamblers,
due to our crude methods of dealing with the three
irrepressible evils. The same explanation may be
given as to the occasional lapses of our police ju-
diciary, though a reasonably high pay has largely
reduced the evils in this direction. It may thus
broadly be seen that when we fail to give a stated,
regular, and reasonable compensation for public
service, we find bribery taking the place of honour-
able reward.

We must recognise that we cannot be governed
without paying, on the average, nearly as much for
the talents employed as would be gained by the
same talents engaged in private effort. The rule is
somewhat obscured by the value put upon celebrity,
more easily attained in public than in private service,
and the varying degree of security in employment,
— sometimes greater, sometimes less, for the office-
holder than for the private citizen. These ex-
ceptions are more readily understood than those
supposed to be offered by such great non-salaried
legislative bodies as the English Parliament. The
exception, however, is much more in appearance
than in reality. First, the hard work of Parliament
is done by comparatively few among the more
than six hundred members, and most of these few
are holders of salaried offices; and, second, as nearly
all members of the House, and all members of the
Lords, are drawn from the wealthy class; and again,
chiefly from the class of inherited wealth, the nation

The Tibetan People 165

Is paying handsomely enough for their service by
permitting targe patrimonies to descend from gen-
eration to generation, thus giving to the inheritors
a very substantial support, against which it draws
a moderate return of public service. Because all
inheritors of estates do not make such return, the
implied compact is somewhat obscured to the in-
telligence of some observers. The true principles
stand out more clearly in the actual relations of
the royal family, and the theoretical relations of
the nobility, toward the State. In so far as the in-
heritance of great fortune, wit/tout public scrvict, is
continued, there begin now to appear adjustments
which express the public conscience on the subject.
These are obvious in England. They were loud as
the thunder, vivid and fatal as the lightning, about
I century ago, in France.

This excursive reflection upon the lordly states of
our Western world may seem to be an unwarranted
going-away from our text, which is just now the
poor mountain state of the snow-world. But the
comparison is meant to suggest something which I
consider more important at my hands than the
piling up of detailed description of Tibetan custom.
Other travellers have had much larger opportunity
than I to obtain such facts, and, in all their mani-
fold suggestiveness to various special students, they
have been admirably set forth in works from which,
if such full presentation were my task, I should
be forced to bountifully copy. But it has seemed
to me a better use of my small experience and my
reading to set forth only the larger features of
Tibetan life; to seek that which is common to us all,

1 66

Tibet and Turkestan

under various manifestation, and, lastly, chiefly, to
urge that inward charity of thought, and that out-
ward charity of act (soon perhaps to follow), which
is born only of intelligent sympathy.

This tendency to seek the good that is cloaked in
evil is one that may not at once meet the approval
of Exeter Hall or Faneuil Hall, though ultimately
their reach toward honest things would bring us
together. Uncompromising war upon an obvious
evil, with incidental wholesale condemnation of men
who have inherited an offensive institution, — such
is the rough-and-ready method, which has a merit
that I shall not contest and cannot attain.

Polyandry, polygamy, monastic power, feudal law,
— all these appear as abuses to the hasty eye ; and
indeed they fall within the universal rule of good-
and-bad, the bad being prominent to our examina-
tion. But they will "yield to treatment." to the
treatment of physical science relieving physical
want. Let us then give, nor urge even this, a
knowledge of those things which have helped us in
this world (as we think), and let this force work
its fated changes. As to our religion, let it be
offered only by humble, patient men who shall not
damn a thousand dear traditions as deadly sins.
Perhaps then some of their hearers will prefer
to utter the name Christ, rather than some other
sound, in addressing the Power behind the Law
and the Hope.

CHAPTER XIII

RELIGION

IN Tibet there are two religious bodies; the Bud-
dhists, whom we now generally call Lamaists,
and the Pon-bo. These two have a common basis
in the ancient worship of a medley of gods, repre-
senting more or less obviously the forces of nature.
Connected with this mythology was a burdensome
belief in magic* Much of all these tyrannical fears
has survived even in Lamaism, while the Pon-bo
creed of to-day, which does not profess Buddha at
all, is substantially the ancient cult, still held by
those whose ancestors, for various reasons, failed to
"go over " in the days when the newly imported re-
ligion was covering the land. The lower, grosser
elements of Lamaism are substantially repeated
among the Pon-bo ; or rather we may say that the
vulgar Lamaist has the Pon-bo creed plus some
vague notion of Gautama's high abstractions.

The relation between the two bodies is similar to
that which might have been seen in Europe as late
as the sixth century A.D., when there still existed
communities professing the ancient paganism, while
enthroned Christianity had not been able to free
itself from a heritage of magic, witch and devil cult,
and had shifted the worship of the Finite from demi-
gods to saints. But then in Europe, as now in Tibet

167

[68

Tibet and Turkestan

there were some (a few) who drank such pure water
as the higher creed may offer to the most enlight-
ened, thirsting soul. A personal, anthropomorphic
God, an individual, personal, corporeal immortality,
a half-militant faith in certain personal relations of
the Teacher — these are keystones in the arch of
Christian belief— not to be displaced by the most
generalising mind that would still call itself faithful.
And most helpful are they to the spirit of lower
flight, just rising from the earth, building its resting-
place with familiar concrete material.

Even the frightful vision of hell which, wonder-
fully enough, was not expelled from the compas-
sionate dreams of Christ, would stimulate rather
than destroy the faith of those who, in gusty bar-
barism, had sought the extremes of punishment
for their enemies, and had imagined their dead as
still on horseback, still fighting some undying foe.
Gratified with the hope of a happy resurrection of
the body for himself, the zealous saint felt urged by
childish reason, as well as by inspiration, to con-
struct for the unfaithful sinner an eternal bodily
punishment, equal in its kind with the felicity
promised to himself. Surely these are easier steeps
to climb, for untutored minds, than the ascent to
Buddha's heights. Here, there is no God, only an
unnamed, infinite, hence undefined, principle of
creation. The universe is bound in absolute law.
Separate existence is bound up, under the invaria-
ble law, with desire, and desire with evil ; death is a
portal, opening, first, to another life, whose evil will
hr proportioned to the desire that has raged in this;
through successive deaths life is led to Nirvana,

H
u

■

Religion

169

extinction of personal identity, the sole reward to
those who have wholly conquered desire in the
struggle of human existence. Our sins shall punish
another entity than that which is the present ego;
our virtues shall ultimately help the separated drop
to sink again into the untroubled ocean, not to
sparkle for ever in some iridescent beam of personal
happiness. Nor can this return of the troubled part
to everlasting peace in the undivided whole be ac-
complished here in our life, save by an ascetic course
which lies far beyond the power of the usual man.
He, however, by strict virtue in the common life, as
father, brother, husband, neighbour, may happily
reflect that the Kharma of his life, the resultant
moral force of it, shall permit some other man, later
born, to start his course nearer to the goal, which
ever is extinction of desire and of separated self.
Truly this is too hard for rough mountain barbarians.

Even the corrupted doctrines which came to the
Tibetans a thousand years after Gautama died have
by them been yet further corrupted. A vast sys-
tem of Aberglaube (extra belief of Matthew Arnold)
has overgrown the Buddha's original impersonal
generalisations. Moral qualities have grown into
gods. ' ' Emanations" ' have become persons.

Myths of virgin birth, giving sanctity to Gautama's
mother; of infantile wisdom and heavenly prodigies
leading to worship of the babe by wise men; of
superhuman strength in human contest with spear
and bow,— all these had been added to the Buddhist
arsenal of argument before the Great Vehicle was
taken up to Tibet from Northern India. Doubtless
they were of great avail in making converts. Weaker

170

Tibet and Turkestan

minds found support in all these grosser imagin-
ings, the work of all the early minds of like weakness
who had vainly tried to grasp the abstract and had
unconsciously built rude scaffolding in the trees
when their wings refused to bear them toward the
sun.

Yet in spite of these deformations, the doctrine
retained something of beauty. It seems particularly
to have put a higher value upon human life, and
what we consider a grotesque value upon life in
general. It stopped human sacrifice and softened
men's hearts and manners by its insistence upon
universal charity. Much — very much — remains to
be done in this, the master work of Christian and
of Buddhist doctrine, but surely a beginning was
made among the wild people of the snows. The
troublesome element in the establishment of the
new faith seems to have been the monkish organisa-
tion. It at once became a rival in power-lust with
the lay chiefs. Nothing shows more clearly than
this the great departure which had been made from
the original teaching. Buddha, even less than
Christ, had imagined his followers as a sort of mili-
tant body animated by the demon of ambition.

There is nothing in Buddha's speech of the deep
partisan spirit ringing in the words, "If ye are not
for me ye are against me," and again, "I come to
bring a sword." Bat he had told his followers to
preach his doctrine. To this end, they had organ-
ised. Organisation carries with it the seed of con-
test, and we are at once led to Darwinian phrase,
while making the double struggle, to know what is
"fittest," and how to use it, for survival against

Religion

171

our competitor. It seems not improbable that the
persecutions which drove Buddhism from India, its
birth-place, where it had greatly flourished for cent-
uries, were due to excesses of the monastic orders.
The people were unable to see the Enlightened One
through the dark cloud of his nominal followers; no
reformer arose to correct the abuses from within,
and away they were swept, abuses and monasteries
and all, and have never yet reappeared in India.
Ceylon, Burmah, Siam, Tibet, China, and Japan
(after a fashion), these are the lands where Gautama
is now worshipped.

The early persecution of the monks by a Tibetan
king suggests that their organisations were full of
the spirit which caused their destruction in India,
but has eventually caused their triumph in Tibet.
Ik-re they proved the stronger, partly because the
people were more ignorant, more superstitious in
their bleak mountain homes, and partly because of
the external pressure already mentioned. When the
purification due to persecution had again changed
to decay, another effort, this by reformation, took
place in the fourteenth century. There arose one
who, himself a lama, cried out against the abuses of
the lamas in their private lives and in their relations
with the people. Tsongkapa's work has been com-
pared by Catholics to Hildebrand's, by Protestants
to Luther's. There is indeed a similarity but also
a marked distinction between the Tibetan and the
German reformer.

Lamaism had not developed a power as concen-
trated as that of Rome. It was not necessary to
break from an all-including organisation, nor did

172

Tibet and Turkestan

Tsongkapa present new theories of control. If
Luther, while insisting upon better morals among
churchmen, had, for furthering that end, set up a
northern Papacy, he would have more nearly dupli-
cated the work of his predecessor, dead a century
before the beginning of the great struggle between
mighty pope and simple priest. Tsongkapa lived to
see great monasteries under his rule, to hear his
yellow-hooded monks acclaimed by the people, who
turned their backs upon the older unreformed Red-
hoods. The order which he thus founded — or, more
strictly, rejuvenated, — became so powerful that ere
long its head was called the Dalai Lama, the great
Lama. 1 This great Abbot was soon recognised,
together with another Incarnation, the Pantchen
Lama, as forming a sort of sovereign partnership
over the whole country. And now the horn of the
Dalai Lama has been exalted, it is higher than
that of his brother or rival. He is called Glorious
King, while the other is Glorious Teacher, and he
has great temporal power added to his religious
function.

When one of these two has died, the other seeks
his successor; three children are chosen, signs of
special virtue in these three being discernible by the

1 Father Hendricks declares the true etymology would establish
Dalai as meaning Ottan as well as great, and that this name was
given to the abbot who was supposed to descend, in office, from the
Christian priests sent in by Gengliiz Khan, a priest from afar, from
the ocean. Failing foreign successors, he who administered the
ritual of the Ocean Lama was called by that name. The similarity
of rites and organisation between Rome and Lhasa is believed by
Father Hendricks to be due to such early mission work. But
Buddhist ceremonial was developed before that of Rome.

Religion

*73

initiated ; their names are put in a golden urn, and,
in the presence of many abbots and of the Chinese
legate, a heaven-directed lottery takes place: the
first-drawn name is believed to be that of the child
who has received the Khartna of the dead. These
incarnations are called Bodisats, a series of individ-
uals ancestrally related to each other in so far as
Kharma (general moral influence left by a life) can
be said to constitute ancestry. They are in a series
which will inevitably end in the production of a true
Buddha, an Enlightened One, receiving that fulness
of wisdom which came to Gautama meditating under
the Bo tree. And this wisdom shall again declare the
ways of salvation to a world which shall have for-
gotten the messages already heard. The dreamers
of the faith have imagined Bodisats celestial and ter-
restrial ; they are here and there in various stages of
development ; and the theory of them provides an
inexhaustible source of saint-making, yields an an-
gelic hierarchy and multiplies the objects of adora-
tion. The similarity between this evolution and
that of angel-and-saint cult in Christian history
must strike the most careless observer. The com-
mon effects suggest a common source, which cannot
well be an exclusive revelation.

The selection of a babe as spiritual head con-
stitutes a most important point of departure from
the Roman system, and marks the Tibetan method
as distinctly the inferior in respect to obtaining
meritorious chiefs. The way is left wide open for
cabal and chicanery, such as existed for a time in
the Roman Church, permitting children (a Benedict
IV., and even a maid, 't is said), to be named as

■74

Tibet and Turkestan

the Vicar of Christ. There is no contrariety in
this choice of children, to the requirements of in-
spire J pronouncements an doctrine alone; or to the
conditions involved in the mere existence of a
passive, meditating soul, forgetful of the world, as
in the abstract of the Tibetan creed* But masses of
men never get far away from the interests of this
world, save by the wide door of death ; hence upon
both systems has been grafted the branch of tem-
poral power and church administration, which
requires a stout trunk of personal intelligence,
sobriety, honour, and mature judgment in the chief.
The choice in Rome is now largely determined by
the known record of abilities displayed on a large
stage of action. As the Tibetan system ma
this impossible, the appearance of intelligence and
strength in the pontifical chairs is merely chanceful.
Power, therefore, is generally left to the ring of
monks who correspond roughly to the College of
Cardinals at Rome. The present Dalai Lama marks
an exception to the rule of incompetence in the
Sacred Head.

Between the two great incarnations and their re-
spective orders there seems to have been a creditable
peace for longer periods than would thus have been
measured, I think, had not the Chinese power been
strong to check, encourage, balance, as the interest
of the State and that of the suzerain required.

Free as was the earliest Buddhist teaching from
the almost universal beliefs in magic, witches, and
devils, these had already gained control of the minds
of all who professed the Great Vehicle when it came
to Tibet,— of all save the occasional few who, in

Religion

175

every age, in every religion, have had clearer, higher
vision. There was, therefore, no generally recog-
nised principle in the new faith which could ever
make war upon the gross fetich ism of the ignorant
tribes who were so far from all the world's centres of
thought. Yet even a closer touch at that time would
not have done much to expurgate from their minds
those childish and dreadful fancies which civilisation
has not yet entirely driven from Paris or New York.
While palmists, clairvoyants, and sellers of images
may flourish in our capitals; while Friday bears a
shady reputation, and dinners of thirteen are much
less frequent than those of eleven and of fifteen, just
so long may we feel sure that on the far Tibetan
plateau we have found a long-lost brother with
whom, hand in hand, we wend a painful way across
the glooms of time.

"And yet dark night strangles the travelling lamp.
Is "t night's predominance or the day's shame,
That darkness does the face of earth entomb,
When living light should kiss it? "

We, however, seem to be in the thinning edge of
the black, witch-haunted forest, while our Tibetan
brother is still in its darkest centre. Let us learn,
by translation from M. Grenard's vivid pages, what
we were, what the Tibetans are, by virtue of de-
veloping such ideas as those that damn the day
Friday and the number thirteen.

"Of Buddha, who established as principle the abnega-
tion of worldly vanities, who set forth us aim the annihila-

176

Tibet and Turkestan

tioii of self, they ask riches, health, and the satisfaction
of covetousness and pride, they constrain him by the
most solemn of all ceremonies to produce the elixir of
longevity. Prayers are said for the dead, as if the de*
parted could escape the fatal conaequenca of then acts.
If Buddha is not to be moved, they address prayers to
one of the innumerable gods who surround him, each of
whom has his particular role, his special power, a shape
peculiar to him, horrible or agreeable, his personal char-
acter, peevish or kind, courteous chamberlains, gracious
ladies-in-waiting, generals, savage defenders of the faith,
fearful duennas, not to speak of the devilish beasts which
prowl in the neighbourhood, seeking something to de-
vour. The supernatural world is a court where good
and bad places are distributed for the life to come, as
well as spiritual graces and temporal goods, calamities
and misfortunes. To obtain the one, and to escape the
others, the Tibetans exhaust themselves in attempts, in
petitions, in intrigues, and in gifts. They build thou-
sands of temples, make thousands of statues, burn
myriads of sticks of incense, prostrate themselves, chant
hymns, murmur endless prayers, grind still greater num-
bers of them in water- or hand-mills, recite the rosary,
celebrate solemn services, make offerings and give ban-
quets to all the gods and devils, wear amulets and relics,
write talismans, and fly streamers covered with prayers
or emblems of good-luck, which the breeze scatters to
the four winds, accumulate countless heaps of stones
covered with pious inscriptions, turn around all the
objects which they consider sacred, mountains, lakes,
Lei n pies, stone piles, make processions and pilgrimages,
swallow indulgences in the shape of pills, which the
lamas have compounded with relics, imbibe with, contri-
tion the heavenly nectar composed of the ten impurities,
such as human flesh, the excrements, and urine, practice

Religion 1 77

exorcism, necromancy, and magic, even to obtain spiritual
blessings, enact pious mysteries, perform strange and
furious dances to drive away or destroy the demon; and
thus is Tibet wildly caught up and carried off by the
whirlwind of religious insanity."

It is not intended here to treat at length of the
language and literature of Tibet. Several specialists
— such as Csoma dc Koros, Ed. Foucaux, A. A.
Georgi, H. A. Jaeschke, and W. W. Rockhill— may
be consulted by those who desire to study these
subjects.

Very briefly it may be stated that the Tibetan
dialects are said to be of the Tibeto-Burman family,
which, in turn, is referred to the Turano-Scythian
stock.

Changes of pronunciation that have taken place
in the last twelve hundred years have not been
followed by corresponding changes in the original
written forms of words. Tibetan orthography, there-
fore, as tested by present usage of spoken words, is
perhaps farther removed from a true phonetic sys-
tem than is the orthography of any other language
pretending to represent sounds by letters.

Tibetan literature consists almost exclusively of
sacred writings and historical records. Their char-
acter may be given approximately by the one word
' " monkish." It is the literature of our own dark ages.

In Appendix C are to be found some examples of
Tibetan songs, as gathered from the lips of the
people by Moravian missionaries. Many readers,
I think, will be surprised at the gracefulness of
thought appearing in these compositions.

CHAPTER XIV

INDUSTRY AND ART— TIBETAN ARCHITECTS-
CARAVAN VS. RAILWAY

AMONG the notable achievements of our mount-
ain folk must be accounted their progress as
builders. Such structures as the great monasteries
and the kingly residences would be remarked in any
country, at least for their magnitude. In China
are pagodas high enough, in India are magnificent
mosques, of one clear spring from floor to dome-
top; but neither in China nor in India are to be seen
such many-storied, myriad-roomed buildings as in
Tibet. Yet from China and from India have come
the seeds of all development beyond the tent and
the hut. Special influences have caused the extra-
ordinary growth of the building art among a people
whose souls are not mechanical. Analysis of such
a result, in the absence of full historical data, is
hazardous, hence somewhat tempting.

Three conditions have seemed to me chiefly re-
sponsible for a superiority, which, in comparing all
other characteristics with those of their neighbours,
may be considered as almost an eccentricity of the
Tibetans: An abundance of stone, steep roughness
of building sites, and the communal life of the
monks,— these three conditions conspire to produce
the sky-scraping masses, in which are hived the

178

Industry and Art 179

pious bees who sip every flower that blooms in
Tibet, In a land so sterile and so cold, architecture
is saved from rioting into an over- florid style and is
even stunted in its outreachings toward grace, but
it attains unto dignity. As in every similar case of
a single inspiration operating within almost unvary-
ing environment, there results great uniformity,
such, indeed, that the monasteries of Ladak and
those around Sining in the Far East might change
places over night without discovery. It is highly
suggestive as to the future possible development of
the Tibetan people that, given a powerful impulse
in a given direction, they have shown engineering
capacity of so high an order as that involved in the
erection of these great structures. That they have
often chosen the most inaccessible among many
difficult sites may be due chiefly to the same mili-
tary consideration which determined the uncomfort-
able and picturesque locations of so many European
piles built in the brave days of old. It is pleasing
to think, also, that the artistic fitness of the thing
— isolation of dwelling, and withdrawal from the
world's illusions — may have partly ruled the build-
ers' minds.

Shall we also charitably assume that the theoreti-
cal unworldliness of the ruling class may account for
the neglect of ways of communication? One who
has been tried by these roads is quick to wrath, yet
I have seen as bad in Abyssinia as in Ladak. And
every traveller Ed China bewails the strange lack of
public spirit which bequeaths to each generation the
ruts and bumps of its predecessor. Even America,
inspired with mechanical cult, sins greatly in this

r8o

Tibet and Turkestan

respect. Wheeled vehicles would demand a vast
expenditure — probably an impossible sum — for so
poor a country as Tibet, having such long lines,
such rough conditions. Until the wagon road is
justified, pack-trails remain everywhere just good
enough to permit passage, and are an abiding marvel
to European travellers.

Several continuous tracks may be followed from
Lhasa to China; the route followed by the English
expedition from Darjeeling is the shortest line con-
necting Lhasa with the civilised world ; a long,
difficult line leads to the far west of Tibet and to
Ladak, now belonging to Kashmir; branching to
the south from this east-and-west trail are several
possible routes leading into NepaL To the north
there are no recognised lines save well to the east,
going up to the Kokonor region, and, farther west,
I pilgrim route for Mongolians coming to their H

The main streams of commerce flow to and
fro 'twixt China and Tibet.

The burly yak demands as little in the way of
fooling and of food as any self-respecting beast
could ask, yet even he must pant and strain and die
in the hard scramble over glacier and stone that
mark the long leagues to China, Slower than the
horse, the yak is also surer-footed and less easily
(rote* to death. He makes up into an irregular
jumbled caravan, never le arni n g the strict discipline
el liag It He march, which ponies are taught to pre-
fer, and which ca m els seem to hiw. leaned m an
earner mcaraatioau It is this aapassrre, dignified
tea**, the cameL who has so powerfully affected
and thas falsified the

■

Industry and Art

181

of European travellers in their estimates o{ Oriental
wealth.

When Europe was poor, Asia was relatively rich,
but never as rich as the camel would have one be-
lieve. When you see even a hundred of him mark-
ing the distant plain with immutable pace you would
swear him to be some gnome in Pluto's service,
bearing half a world's wealth. Hut the simplest
arithmetic shows that the whole caravan load is less
in weight than that of one big American freight car.
So it is that only the most precious commodities
can be interchanged even at the astonishingly low
per-diem rates of hire for man, and the equally
low rate of food-consumption exacted by the self-re-
straining brute. Thus let us pursue the calculation
on the basis of forty cents per day per camel, paid
by us to the Kirghiz in Western Tibet. Each burden
was about four hundred pounds, and the day's
march averaged about fifteen miles; that makes the
cost per ton -mile about thirteen cents. On the
great railways of America the corresponding figure
is 0.65 cents, or one twentieth as great. Such com-
parisons have led to the dreaming of fabulous profits
by the over-zealous promoters of steam railways
in caravan lands, the infirmity of their calculations
arising from an over-estimate of the total amount
of merchandise to be handled.

The dominating feature of Tibetan traffic is tea,
imported from China, chiefly through the mart of
Ta-chien-lu, where caravans sent from Lhasa and
even from Shegatze are loaded annually with thir-
teen millions of pounds of the heaven-sent le? f
Coming out of Tibet, their loads have been 1"

182

Tibet and Turkestan

— wool, hides, musk, amber, saffron, and some gold-
dust from the various small placer-works of the
Himalayan slopes.

Compared with this tea-trade, all other commer-
cial movements in Tibet are insignificant.

A few European trinkets and some cotton goods,
a small quantity of amber, and, lately, a fair volume
of rupees are brought in exchange for the wool and
gold-dust and Chinese tea which go into Nepal or
Sikkim, and a little to Ladak. If we consider the
tea trade alone at Ta-chien-lu, its value there, in-
creased by, say, twenty per cent., will cover the total
foreign trade of the country. Considered as weight
of merchandise to be transported, it will exceed that
of all outgoing and all other incoming goods. In
the Ta-chien-lu market, M. Grenard, whose figures
are the latest reliably reported, found common
varieties worth about seven cents per pound (8.5
pence per kilo), while high grades sold at about
twenty cents per pound. It is probable that there
is much more of the former than of the latter. We
may take ten cents per pound as an approximate
average. Hence it would appear that the Tibetans
pay $1,300,000 for that staple, which means more
to them than does any other food, except bread, to
any civilised people. Increasing this by twenty per
cent, we find $1,560,000 as the approximate total of
their present purchasing power.

The average price of tea in Lhasa (Grenard)
seems to be about twenty-five cents per pound, cost
of transport and profit having added one hundred
and fifty per cent, of the value at Ta-chien-lu. If
we assume ten cents per pound for transport and

Industry and Art 183

five cents for profit we shall fall measurably near
the figure above given for caravan charges (thirteen
pence per ton-mile) and measurably near the figure
for profit which would be enforceable as against
frauds on the custom house and the recognised
monopolies. The figure thus given for annual trans-
port charges, say §1,500,000 (or, say, £300,000), is
one that appeals somewhat to our cupidity. But
let us study it further, first remarking that the city
of Washington, with three hundred thousand in-
habitants (about one-tenth the population of Tibet),
pays twice as much annually for its tramway fares,
i. e., twice as much as Tibet pays for substantially
all of its "long-haul" freight service. The thirteen
million pounds of tea may, with other imports, sup-
posing all to be concentrated at one point, be in-
creased to a total of say sixteen million pounds of
incoming merchandise. Taking a sixty-car train of
modern American freight cars, we see that sir trains
per y tar would haul the entire imported load of the
country, and these trains, outgoing, would not be
more than half- filled.

The length of line over which this sixteen million
pounds must be carried is something like twelve
hundred miles. The idea of building a railway of
such length in such country is, indeed, fantastic;
but, merely to pursue the matter to its limits from
our usual point of view, let us calculate such con-
struction at the tow figure of sixty thousand dollars
per mile, then the interest charge at five per cent,
on seventy-two million dollars is more than double
the amount now paid for freight transportation, even
though the rate be twenty times that familiar in

1 84

Tibet and Turkestan

Western countries. The substitution of the shorter
line of caravan travel via the Chumbi valley to Dar-
jeeling would diminish the national expenditure for
transportation by a considerable amount — probably
would cut it in half. But, short as that line is, its
profile is such as to make railway construction and
permanent railway operation fall beyond the bounds
of practicability. Invention must make some other
great conquest of nature's secrets ere the Himalayas
be scaled by other transport than the crawling
caravan.

Let us not fancy, then, that we shall be able to
bless the Tibetans with our civilisation, which is dis-
tinctly that of steam, marked in a hundred ways by
steam ; set off by steam in a hundred ways from
the European civilisation which preceded it; and
which, indeed, being without steam, resembled the
Tibetan civilisation more than it resembles us. We
are its children, indeed, but children who have seen
another light.

In Tibet, where the country is particularly stub-
born against the engineer's attacks, we may find in
the years to come our only refuge in all the civilised
world from the clangour of our Frankenstein's bells.
Let us here and now offer up thanks to a foreseeing
Providence for that the Himalayas have been made
high and steep.

CHAPTER XV

SKETCH OF TIBETAN HISTORY FROM MISTY BEGIN-
NINGS, 350 A.D. (?), TO JOHN BULL'S
APPEARANCE

HERE al! is darkness until the fourth or fifth
century of our era. In Chinese records, long
anterior to the establishment of an ordered state,
reference is made to the Kiang tribes of the Koko-
nor and adjoining regions; but they seem to have
been then merely savage bands, not constituting an
organised government advanced beyond the tribal
status. The impulsion toward centralisation came
from without, and may have been accompanied by
some measure of compulsion, though the record
runs that a disaffected prince from the province of
Kan-su (North China) moved his people westward
and established himself among the Kiang tribes,
who were won to his sway by his justice and firm-
ness as a ruler. This exodus is presumed to have
taken place about 433 A.D, The name of F.mni is
given the leader, and his nationality is presump-
tively Chinese. It must be remembered, however,
that the region from which he came lies not far from
the home of the northern barbarians, and that the
time was, and for a century had been, one of great
disorder, marked by incursions of the Mongols across
the line of the Great Wall.

i»5

i86

Tibet and Turkestan

It is not improbable that these semi-civilised im-
migrants into what is now Tibetan territory were of
mixed blood, in which the nomadic Mongol instinct
predominated over the stay-at-home feeling of the
true Chinaman from the central provinces, who had
civilised and absorbed several conquering hordes of
the north. However that may be, the subsequent
fusion with indigenous tribes has produced a type
easily distinguishable from that of Pekin. Tib-
etan chronicles, written by Buddhist lamas, boldly
ascend beyond the fairly well-established date of
the coming of Fanni, and recite legends concern-
ing kings from the south. To derive their nation's
origin from this quarter would flatter their religious
prejudices. The unsatisfying character of these
legends, until the stream of them reaches the time
and event set forth by the Chinese records, tends
to give to the latter a yet greater credence. Never-
theless, the traditions looking toward India, or at
least toward Bhutan and Nepal, are not to be wholly
neglected. Travel between Tibetan territory and
any other is, indeed, hard, but between Central
Tibet and Nepal it is easier than with Western China.

It is not improbable that there is something of
truth in these stories of southern kings establishing
dynasties antedating by several centuries that which
was founded by Fanni. There is space enough,
and the central (Lhasa) region is separated from
the eastern districts by enough physical difficulty to
justify the supposition that independent, though
inconsiderable, states may have existed in the Tsang
valley before Fanni came to the north-east region.
His success there may have soon resulted in coali-

tion of government and blood with the central and
western peoples, thus putting into the veins of the
modern Tibetan strains which run from widely sep-
arated sources, and producing a type marked by
special characteristics. It cannot be supposed,
however, that the immigration from the south was
numerous or that it came from the splendid Hindu
civilisation which lay south and west of Nepal, and
which was highly developed long before even the
legendary beginning of the southern dynasties (circa
300 B.C.). For even these prejudiced compilers of
the pro-Indian stories declare that knowledge of
arithmetic was imported from China about the year
600 A.D., and, though the art of writing is said to
have come from India, it is evident that it came but
as a part of the Buddhistic mission work and was
not known until the year 632 A.D. The Hindu
civilisation would have furnished both these accom-
plishments from the beginning of any colonisation
traceable to such a source.

Nothing could better illustrate the seclusion of
tli is people than this extraordinarily late date for the
introduction of the three R's. It suggests that the
Fanni movement was, indeed, that of a people on
the rim of Chinese civilisation and that the mythical
Indian kings of the lamas' chronicles were but rude
mountain chiefs from Bhutan or Nepal. Turkestan,
desert- and mountain-bound as it is, had its letters
eight hundred years cailier than this secluded land
— a Bastile built by demons, where a nation might
be forgotten,'

1 In accepting the early part of the seventh century as the date of
writing's* birth in Tibet, we must compromise with a Chinese record,

Tibet and Turkestan

The acceptance of a religious creed by a people
already endowed with civil arts can never be as pro-
foundly efficient to inspire a national development
as when there comes to barbarians, with religion, a
first knowledge also of all the things which make
for material enlightenment. Adopted Christianity
could not save the gilded, educated Rome, which
enthroned it, from a direful fall. But given to the
invading barbarians, with all the retinue of Roman

quoted by kr.ikhill, uhi-h wrmld seem to establish the existence as
early as the year 600 A.V. of b wo man -governed country, lying in
Eastern Tibet, and near to the territory occupied by the Tu-Ku-Hun
(I';inni) immigrants. The difficulty presented by this record lies in
the fact that the queen is reported as living in a nine-storied house,
and her subjects as occupying smaller, yet considerable buihii
It seems incredible that a people capable of such engineering as is
involved in the construction of great buildings should be without a
written language. If tliis woman's kingdom existed as reported, if
it had a written language, then the Inr^er Tibetan state, whose or-
ganisation must have included the domains of the legendary queens
would not have stood in need of mi imported alphabet ; and,
further, a nine-storied civilisation could fairly be expected to leave
some record of its existence, written or traditional, among the people
who are its direct descendants. Yet, apparently only the Chinese
learned of the extraordinary society which they report as having its
scats adjacent to those of the other sixth-century peoples, the Tu-
Ku-Hun and the T'ang Hsiang. Both of these arc described by
the same records as living in tents, signifying a rude, nomadic life
strongly contrasted with the civil development suggested by the
royal "sky-scraper." If this record bore a later date ; if its inser-
tion in the Sui annals were due to an error of a century, then we
might believe that Chinese travellers found an accidental case of
woman's rule, following the introduction of Indian and Chinese
learning and art ; and that an obsequious chronicler exaggerated the
role of some transient female royally, out of compliment to the
great Empress Woo How, or her domineering daughter-in-law, who,
between them, governed China for almost the whole of the century
650-750 A, li.

■

Sketch of Tibetan History

arts, it seems the mother of virtues. Buddhism,
powerful for a time in the land of its birth, was
powerless to uplift the old Ganges valley, full of
fixed tradition, sacred literature and established arts.
So, in the great middle plains of China, it became but
a quiet partner with Confucianism to steady, not to
revolutionise the spirits of a race which had already
lived and died and written and built and sowed and
reaped through the centuries. But in the newly
colonised Ceylon, in Burmah, in rough Western
China, in lost Tibet — here it became a passion, a
propelling force, formative of societies in their pliant
youth. Assuming merely a substance of human
nature, in the way of rough mountain-men, grazing
their flocks and tilling their difficult, terraced fields,
we view this force with its powerful adjunct force,
knowledge of the arts, acting to produce what may
be taken almost as the birth of a people. In these
cases the creed, which immediately has its votaries
organised as such, thus obtaining interested spokes-
men, is proclaimed as the sole flame of inspiration;
yet, truly, it may often be seen that the spirit of
wild men cannot accept peace doctrines; they bum
with zeal for the personality involved in the creed,
their intellects arc tremendously stimulated by the
e^rtritement of "conversion," and, above all, by the
mental food contained in the newly acquired arts;
but the inconsiderate selfishness of youth is still in
their hearts. Hence they may be seen — Goths in
Europe, Tibetans in Asia, crying out the names of
the two great Compassionate Ones, Christ and
Buddha, while they rush to battle, while they split
the heads of children, while in blood they cement

Sketch of Tibetan History 191

been attempted bespeaks a powerful central force.
Such tyranny rarely exists save as the outgrowth of
a theocratic tendency. This may take the form of
a concession of earthly power to a religious teacher,
as in the case of the Pope or the Dalai Lama; or, by
reversal, the ascription of religious character to the
earthly ruler, as in the case of the Roman tyrants,
the Russian Czar, and the Turkish Sultan; or,
lastly, the yielding to an organised priesthood of
that general power which superior intelligence can
gain, and can easily gain, when playing upon the
superstitions of the ignorant. It may well be sur-
mised that the lamas, corresponding to the priests
and monks of our Dark Ages, were then, as now,
almost the only writers in the land ; and when a peo-
ple, not given to industry as in the modern world,
cease for a time to fight, then the* 'clerks," the cleri-
cals, the "learned," will soon control the king and
the people, who yield much to the combination of
crown and book. The impractical levelling effort
of Munibtsan-po may be taken as an indication of
clerical influence at its best, when it is still aiming
at high moral ideals, and has not yet grasped the
sceptre, or even begun systematically to struggle
for it. That follows.

Meanwhile, another encounter with China took
place, noticeable because the peace-treaty ending
the bloodshed (821 A.D.) is still in existence, on bi-
lingual tablets preserved at Lhasa. They are, per-
haps, the earliest indubitable historic monuments of
the country, significant of its greatness, important
also to the philologist. It is recorded that shortly
after this event the reigning king instituted a

I 9 2

Tibet and Turkestan

persecution of Buddhism; a remarkable statement
when measured by the fact that for a long time all his
predecessors are said to have shown more or less zeal
for the Faith. One may well question whether this
may not be the monkish way of stating that the king
was not friendly to them. Our European records
arc full of such solecisms: "Religion" and "the
Church" are, among Catholics, systematically con-
nected, and even a Catholic king, engaged in curb-
ing merely the excesses of the "Church," may
appear, in clerical records, as an oppressor of re-
ligion. However it may be, the objectionable king
was soon assassinated, and disorder followed for a
weary period covering generations of his successors.
Two rival thrones first divided the country east and
west; then thrones were multiplied as sons were
begot. While the temporal power waned, the
spiritual waxed. About the year 1040 A.D. (the pre-
ceding two centuries presenting only a confusion
of kingdoms, now divided, now reunited) a great
Buddhist teacher, Atesha. was invited into the coun-
try by one of the Western kings. He attained much
esteem throughout the country, reformed the calen-
dar, and by his wisdom undoubtedly increased popu-
lar respect for the priesthood.

Another two-century period rolls over the country,
which is still broken into fragments; Kublai Khan,,
one of the greatest of the Mongol emperors, is on
China's throne. His forces make their victorious
way across the eastern frontier of Tibet, subjecting
portions of the national territory. The rest may
not have been thought worthy of sacking. Some
sort of overlordship seems to have been recognised

Sketch of Tibetan History 193

in him ; for a lama, from the Sakya monastery, was
invited to the Court of the great Khan, where Mon-
gol religious indifference made a place and a cere-
monial for every respectable creed- Phagspa Lodoi
Gyaltshan, the favoured lama, would scarcely have
gone to him who had just ravaged part of Tibet, had
not the Eastern Tibetan king already bent to the
majesty of the ruler, who in that part of the world
seemed universal. That the temporal power was
at ebb tide is evident from the fact that the mere
fiat of the distant Khan seems to have been suffi-
cient to place Phagspa as ruler over all the Eastern
country.

This seems to have been the formal beginning
(i27<3A.D.)of the system of lama rule under Chinese
suzerainty, which, with some interruption, has con-
tinued until the present day. Rivalries have existed
between monasteries, as in other countries between
contending royal families; and when these rivalries
became acute, and too much energy was expended
in monkish intrigue, occasion offered for the uprising
of some lay nobleman, or the special exertion of the
recognised authority of the Son of heaven, or of
some temporarily powerful chief of the Mongol
peoples west of China proper and north of Tibet.
Not until the eighteenth century was there disturb-
ance from the south, nor from Turkestan on the
north ; save that Ladak, so distant from the central
provinces, was overrun in 1531 a.D. by a Moham-
medan ruler coming up from Kashgar, and again,
about i6io A.D., by the Balti tribes to the west of
Tibet, and who have continued their annoying raids
against caravans up to our own day. A temporal

i 9 4

Tibet and Turkestan

ruler, Phagmodu, about 1350 A.D., succeeded in tak-
ing away the strictly lay power from the monks,
and his dynasty was recognised by the Imperial
Court at Pekin, but by the middle of the fifteenth
century his course seems to have been run. In-
deed, while his family were yet on the throne, there
were several great monasteries exercising independ-
ent lordship over the properties belonging to them,
independent except as they were subject to the over-
lord in Pekin. As against the royal authority in
Tibet, they constituted a true imperium in imperio.
Monastic orders were constantly recruiting from
the body of the people, hence their organisation was
not subject to the deterioration of luxury which saps
every royal family, determines dynastic changes,
and would overthrow monarchy itself were its prin-
ciples not so important to certain societies that in-
stinctively there develops a ruling aristocracy or
family or class which yet declares itself as acting
only in the name of royal decoy— awaiting a resur-
rection of kingly merit, or a revolution.

It is worthy of remark that Phagmodu, the founder
of the kingly power just mentioned, was in the maxi-
mum of his activity when the great Mongol dynasty,
founded by Jenghiz Khan, was in the agonies of
dissolution, its last representative (1 333-1368 A.D.),
Shun-te, presenting the perfect type of the royal
scion debauched by inherited power and luxury.

The Ming dynasty, of true Chinese blood, flour-
ished and weakened, falling before the present
Manchu rulers in 1644 A.D. The affairs of Tibet,
as to governmental authority, were much compli-
cated during all of this period. Religious considera-

■

Sketch of Tibetan History

tion for the great lamas was, however, spreading,
and as early as 147 J the head of the Galdan Monas-
tery (near Lhasa) seems to have been able to rule
nearly the whole country, but his authority in civil
matters was exercised through a regent, called
variously Depa or Jaypa; and this method of com-
promising, with the theory that an incarnation
should have no concern with things earthly, has
been followed ever since. So wide was the reputa-
tion for sanctity of the Tibetan Incarnations that
rude tribes of the Far North bent to their authority,
in spiritual matters, while brooking on earth no for-
eign sway which could not write its title in blood.

One of the great Tartar chiefs, Altan, desirous of
knowing more intimately the sacred teachings, and
perhaps thinking to add lustre to his savage Court,
secured a lama of special power and veneration to
visit him. This was in 1576, and this lama, Sodman
Gynatso, seems to have been the first to bear spe-
cifically the title of Dalai (Great), which now distin-
guishes the ruler of Tibet. This establishment of
a body of spiritual followers of Lamaism in distant
territory was soon followed by important conse-
quences, and is to-day the source of a current of
events which promises to radically change the politi-
cal orientation of the country. Feeling that their
conversion gave them a proper interest in the con-
duct of pontifical affairs, the Mongols came down
about the year 1644 A. D. to intervene in the troubled
affairs of the land, which was that of their newly
adopted shrines. A powerful lama of the time, un-
appreciative of their burning zeal, bought their
departure with a price. This the Mongol leader

196

Tibet and Turkestan

accepted as tribute money, with the dream that he
might be recognised as suzerain instead of the
Chinese throne, which was just then being emptied
of one dynasty (Ming) to be filled by another (now
reigning).

As soon as the wily lama saw the backs of the
Mongols, and knew that a firm command of China
was now practically in the hands of the Manchus,
he sent to the new sovereign of that mighty empire,
asking intervention on his part. This seems to have
angered Yuchi Khan, son of the Mongol prince who
had so recently been the patron of the land; or it
gave occasion to some rival monastery unfriendly to
the Chinese party. From whatever cause, Yuchi
Khan swept down upon Tibet, upset a number of
princelets and recalcitrant monks, and established
the Dalai Lama of that date (1645) as supreme ruler.
Neither these Mongols nor their Manchu succes-
sors, attempted to take in hand the direct and de-
tailed control of Tibetan administration; but the
Ambans, delegates-resident of China, must be con-
sulted in the selection of all important officials.
And even the divinely guided choice, by the head
monks, of the Dalai Lama is not effective until ap-
proved in Pekin. Something of this worldly aid
to inspired action has been seen in the election of
more than one Roman pontiff of modern date, while
in the past he who wore the crown of the Holy
Roman Empire boldly claimed and exercised a right
of approval, entirely analogous to that possessed by
the Chinese Emperor in respect to the Dalai Lama.

The patronage of art by corrupt churchmen, the
building by them of great monuments which became

c
.2

P-*

Sketch of Tibetan History

the pride of their most pious successors, — -this also
is familiar reading in Catholic history, and had its
counterpart at Lhasa about the beginning of the
eighteenth century, when the Potala (Vatican and
St. Peter's combined) and other notable buildings
were beautified and enlarged. The occasional pro-
minence of the pontifical "nephew" was also then
illustrated in the person of Sangji Gyamtso, putative
natural son of that celibate, the Dalai Lama, who
had founded the Potala.

How familiar is this figure in royal and pontifical
European records! Talented, ambitious, unscrupu-
lous, accomplished, the scandal and the pride of a
Court and nation, this Sangji Gyamtso ruled as
regent for many years. The death of his patron
was for a long time cleverly concealed, and, even
when announced, Gyamtso was able to give a satis-
factory explanation of his duplicity. The troublous
Mongol interventions gave reasons of state; he re-
tained his influence and, when a new Incarnation
was to be discovered, was able to direct the direct-
ing spirits toward a dissolute youth, upon whom he
had evidently lavished his destructive care since the
date of the concealed death, nearly sixteen years
before.

The Jesuit, Father Desideri, who was in Lhasa
from 1 716 to 1 72 1, witnessed the last efforts of the
Mongols from the north (this time from Dzungaria)
to control Tibetan polity. The definite triumph of
Chinese arms occurred in 1720, when Lhasa was
taken from the foreign troops and the native faction
which supported them. This European observer,
who doubtless thought of the invariable pillage and

»9 8 Tibet and Turkestan

rapine which were implied in the taking of Christian
cities by Christian armies at that time, records his
admiration for the order and restraint of the Chinese
soldiery.'

After two generations of quiet in Tibet, the prow-
ess of the Celestial soldier was again illustrated in
the campaign against the Goorkhas. These fight-
ing men, now so highly prized by the British, had
come up from the Rajput country, driven by the
Moslems, and had overrun the Nepal country about
1768, there subduing the native Buddhist state,
composed of tribes not unlike the Tibetans, and in
religion holding much in common with them. Suc-
cess makes boldness. From newly conquered seats
the restless warriors climbed the passes through
which the jealous Himalayas permit a difficult entry
to their uplifted court. From this quarter the by-
gone years had brought no dangers to the lama peo-
ple, whose unguarded peace was now wounded by
the sudden rush of furious Goorkhas, trained to war.
A cry for help was sent to the "Elder Brother";
weary days of waiting passed, filled with bloody
deeds of the advancing foe. But, what with the
resistance offered by men fighting for their homes,

1 In view of the contempt in which Europeans generally hold the
warriors of China, their exploits in overcoming Mongol brave* of
the Wind who marched across Europe in our early centuries, are
worthy of study, It is probable that investigation would discover
the recruiting grounds to be of rather limited area and of compara-
tively rude culture ; but the Empire has shown itself to be bo fruit-
ful in soldiery for Central Asian conquest, that, discounting as we
may the military value of the swarming millions of the valleys, we
must not assume that a mechanically wise China shall not be %
redoubtable war power. Happily its people are lovers of peace.

Sketch of Tibetan History 199

what with the rigours with which Nature makes a
bulwark for these, her little-favoured children, the
Goorkhas were not able to widely conquer an unwar-
like land ere an army and its leaders came from the
east. Then the doughty invaders met their match ;
they were forced to an inglorious peace ; and until
a very late date, perhaps even now, the Raja sends
an embassy with tribute to far Pekin, remembering
1792.

CHAPTER XVI

A CENTURY OF IRRITATIONS— THE FUMES OF THE

OPIUM WAR CLOUD THE POLITICAL SKY —

FATHERS HUC AND GABET

SO vigorous was this Chinese campaign that a
treaty of peace had been signed ere the appeal
of the Goorkhas to British power at Calcutta could
be answered. The East India Company was ready
to respond, but Colonel Kirkpatrick, sent by Lord
Cornwallis, arrived too late to enter into a bloody
contention, which, if thus complicated, might have
altered Tibetan history. His visit accomplished
little, except to sow in the minds of the Chinese
that distrust of the British which they have had so
many occasions to justify, and which properly ex-
tends to all European military nations.

It is pleasant to turn from the contemplation of
a possible unprovoked British attack (which was
postponed for more than a century) and read of
the friendly relations which existed between Tibet
and the Company, under Hastings, the great prede-
cessor of Cornwallis, as Governor-General. Bhutan,
east of Nepal, its people and institutions much re.
sembling those of Tibet, had given offence by way
of some violence against territory claimed to be
under British protection. The Bhutanese were duly
punished, and when measures of special rigour were

A Century of Irritations 201

about to be enforced, there came a letter from the
Teshoo lama, co-partner with the Dalai Lama in
saintliness, and, like him, an Incarnation, At that
time he seemed also to have had a certain jurisdic-
tion or suzerainty over the Bhutan country. The
letter is addressed to Hastings, grants that the mis-
chief was probably chargeable against the Bhutan-
ese, recites the punishment already inflicted, then,
setting forth his mission as one of intercession for
all mankind, and his special concern for the poor
mountain people, he, as an intermediary whose
office, religious and temporal, warrants interference,
presents his plea for mercy- The tone of the letter
and the representations made by the legate who de-
livered it were so marked by fairness and dignity
that a just cause was quickly won.

Mr. Bogle was first sent into Tibet representing
Hastings. He became very fond of the Teshoo
lama and has left a pleasing report of his relations
with the people, who had not then learned to fear
his kind. The presents sent to Hastings, following
universal custom in the East, made as much impres-
sion on the Englishman as did the pleadings for the
weak. "Perhaps there are trade opportunities in a
country whose chief is so enlightened and so (appar-
ently) rich," thought he who ruled for a trading
company.

Other correspondence followed, and finally a
second mission to Tibet, consisting of Captain Tur-
ner and a medical officer with a small escort, bearing
gifts and assurances of friendship. Turner has left
one of the most interesting records that have come
down to us from the early travellers, who were so

Tibet and Tc

MmJmt- KCS pfCMBHECx EBwU uBC

Tiimf r hy rhr rrj^rTir wfin irtrrf frir rV Tr ihm 1

Ike

the cheerful

r.-.-, M ail i

with

received

Ota ■*■

Itoi

Bi I

:*:•—

i» • * ~^

Hal

9 then, interposed s
objection to bis progress tint her. Whatever

UmI DM LfllMC

Bogie reacted
has Iris seat to

: been the i
the sacred city. The Teshoo
the westward of the capital, and here Turner saw
much and intimately of Tibetan life, which be de-
scribed with critical but sympathetic observation.
It will be but the beginning of justice to quote from
this Englishman, for comparison with present-day
representations, the following words: "The Tibet-
ans are a very humane, kind people. " and again:
"Humanity and an unartificial gentleness of disposi-
tion are the constant inheritance of a Tibetan/' '

The Nepal war ended, there followed years of
peace for Central and Eastern Tibet. But another
attack from India had to be repelled in 1S46, and
again the enemy was an ally of the British. There
is no evidence that the attack of the Goorkhas in
1791 was incited by the English, for the Goorkhas
were then bound to Calcutta only through a com-
mercial treaty. Nor can it be said that the attack
of the Jammu-Kashmir army upon Ladak and sub-

1 Even the «emi-official Timet correspondent with the recent expe-
dition find* 1 jjuod word for the peasants. Sec Appendix P.

A Century of Irritations 203

sequent!y upon Rudok (1846) was known to English
officials until after it was made. Rut the Chinese
may well have learned that the Jammu Maharajah,
once a great Sikh leader and enemy of the British,
was now their ally, and it might fairly be supposed
that he would not attack Tibetan territory unless
he had the tacit approval of his suzerain. The rape
of Ladak was scarcely resisted; possibly the extra-
ordinary difficulties of the march from Lhasa, to-
gether with the delay involved in getting leaders and
some troops from China proper, had rendered im-
possible any effective opposition. But now a fur-
ther thrust of the Dogra troops, who ventured from
newly acquired Ladak just as the Goorkhas had
come out from Nepal, roused the distant giant. An
army, partly Chinese, partly Tibetan, crossed the
vast and desolate country which separates Western
Tibet from Lhasa.

The intruders were forced back, keeping Ladak,
it is true; but again we admiringly find the majesty
of the Elder Brother recognised by the periodic pre-
sents sent from the Maharajah of Kashmir to the
Emperor who leigns so far away, across so many
leagues of upheaved and pathless wilderness, — in
memory of 1846.

This date is of special importance in the history
of European relations with Tibet. In this same
year of the Ladak war, Father Hue entered Lhasa,
was kindly received by the Tibetan authorities, and
after a stay of a few months was required by the
Chinese authority in Lhasa to leave, reasonable
provision being made for his transportation to, and
through, China. No other Europeans entered Lhasa

204

Tibet and Turkestan

or its immediate neighbourhood until the year of
our Lord 1904, when a Britishded force of Indian
troops shot their way over defenceless villages to a
distracted capital.

The expulsion of Father Hue was not an isolated
episode in the history of an isolated country. It
grew out of one of the blackest crimes with which
our civilisation is chargeable. Will it not be suffi-
cient to say that the Chinese official who chanced
to be then at Lhasa was Ke-Shen, a man who had,
as signer, under duress, of a treaty at Canton in
1841, terminated the opium war and had thus par-
ticipated in his country's humiliation, as well as in
the disgrace of his country's enemy — England —
more shameful in success than China in defeat? For
fifty years the Pekin Government had endeavoured
to arrest the fatal traffic. Insignificant when the
Mogul emperors ruled India, it had grown with the
growth of British power. Declared illicit, it had
flourished in British hands; from British ships as
depots it defied Chinese authority in Chinese ports.
When, for a season, righteousness had prevailed;
when a Christian English officer had yielded up
twenty thousand smuggled poison-cases to be de-
stroyed ; when they had been burned by "heathen"
Chinese officers, zealous to protect their country
from a curse, then a Christian Government declared
war and forced by cannon's might a helpless people
to admit the baneful drug. And, even if not bane.
ful, even if it were ambrosia, what shame to override
— but why argue this cause nifaste ? Let it not be
rehearsed, for all have heard it, and let it not be
forgotten in judging all Chinese- European history

A Century of Irritations 205

which followed. For in the sequestered valleys of
Tibet the echo of British cannon was heard, a tocsin
arousing every dormant suspicion against the white
man.

Nor ask these startled people to narrowly dis-
tinguish between French and English and German.
Do not we, pride-blind in our wisdom, fill books
with level criticism of "Asiatics," mingling civilisa-
tions and barbarisms, plainsman and mountaineer,
Mohammedan and Buddhist, Mongol and Aryan,
in one foolish mummery of insulting classification?
So it was that Ke-Shen — wiser than the kindly
Tibetans, knowing better than they the fearful
power of the white man, remembering Nepal, re-
membering Rudok, burning with shame for Canton
— inflexibly demanded that the French missionary
should go.

" Fear the Greeks, bearing gifts." Like so many
of his predecessors, Father Hue seemed — indeed
he was — an humble, devoted evangel, seeking not
the glory of France, or of Europe, but of Christ.
Yet he was Europe; he will, in spite of himself,
spy out the land; he will spread knowledge of it
through the peoples to whom his body and his mind
belonged, and, even if he be only a lama (who
knows in Lhasa what he really is?), his story will
excite the gold-lust, the power-lust of the restless,
the irresistible; of the people who ride on the
waters with fire, and who seize the uttermost parts
of the earth with hands that run with blood.

The obvious co-operation in later years between
Chinese and Tibetans in enforcing a determined
policy of exclusion against all foreigners, Asiatic as

206

Tibet and Turkestan

well as European, has caused some thoughtless
writers to question the good faith or acumen of
Father Hue and earlier travellers who attest the
friendliness of the Tibetans as contrasted with the
rigidity of their Chinese advisers. The explanation
is not far to seek. China, being more exposed, first
felt the shock of European aggression. Since the
time of Father Hue, the Tibetans have learned from
happenings on their western and southern frontier
something of the danger to native states which arises
from the smallest opening left to the coming-in
either of the European or of his subject native
races. Bhutan, Sikkim, and Nepal, rough mountain
states on Tibet's northern border, have been forced
to admit British residents at their capitals. How
far-extended might be the influence thus gained no
one, except the principals, could at any time know.
That their neighbours would have preferred com-
plete independence was, of course, a fair presump-
tion for the Tibetans. But whether the ruler of
either, at any particular time, was or was not,
through bribery or fear, ready to lend his power to
the ever-growing British-Indian Empire, could only
be surmised.

The Goorkhas, masters in Nepal, were not related
to the Tibetans by blood or religion, and were thus
the more readily suspected. When, in 1854, Tibet
was again attacked by the Goorkha-Nepalese, who
hoped for better luck than had been met in 1792,
the Chinese and the Tibetans might well suppose
that their neighbours were receiving aid and comfort
from the "protecting" power, which particularly
watches over the foreign relations of its charges.

A Century of Irritations 207

This war resulted more happily for the attacking
party than the earlier effort — probably because the
Taiping rebellion interfered with the normal action
of the Chinese Government. When the Tibetans
were forced to make concessions of territory, they
may well have deplored the increasing strength near
their borders of that great power which had humili-
ated their Elder Brother a few years before, and
which seemed to be supporting their younger, im-
pulsive brother in his assault against their kingdom
of snow. Following fast upon this came the Anglo-
French war against China, terminated by a humiliat-
ing treaty, something of which would be known in
Tibet. While China is still suffering from the effect
of this blow, and by a chance which to the Tibetans
might almost seem calculation, the British force a
closer protectorate over Sikkim, following upon a
quarrel between the Sikkimites and the Nepaiese,
already protected. The ruling family in the little
mountain state had for centuries been of the Tibetan
nobility and had recognised a sort of Tibetan suzer-
ainty.

Then, again, in 1863, an occurrence at their very
door must have further frightened these secluded
people. Bhutan had admitted, years before, a Brit-
ish Resident; otherwise its ruler tried to keep white
men out. When some contentions arose between
the Bhutan authority and neighbouring states more
directly controlled by Calcutta, an envoy was sent
to arrange the quarrel. To the discomfiture of those
who.sent him, this officer made a treaty by which
most of the claims of Bhutan were recognised and
certain territory was handed back to it. This is not

208

Tibet and Turkestan

customary when the lion is negotiating with the
lamb. The agent claimed duress and the treaty
was disallowed by the Governor-General, who then
resorted to the more familiar and convincing argu-
ments applicable to such cases.

An army was sent in, and of course modern rifles
always enforce justice against matchlocks. Bhutan
was taught that an envoy could be overridden in
Calcutta and that the "prestige" of Great Britain
demands that the arguments of its representatives
shall always prevail, 1 think the doctrine true. It
often applied to dealings between the United States
and various Indian tribes, but the prestige in ques-
tion is one for power — not always for justice, as
understood between individuals. It cannot be sup-
posed that the lesson of such an incident would be
lost upon the Tibetans, whose relations with the
Nepalese, Sikkimites, and Bhutanese have imme-
morially been closer than with any other peoples
save the Chinese.

Followed next ( i 865 et seq.) many internal troubles,
rising to the dignity of revolution. This serious dis-
turbance throve while China was herself rent by the
Taiping rebellion, which, in turn, was itself caused
(in large part) by popular wrath against a dynasty
that had failed to repel the aggressive European.
It was about this time that the Abbe" Desgodins,
French missionary, was forced to abandon an at-
tempt to maintain mission work in Tibet. He has
left a most uncharitable series of letters to immor-
talise his disappointment. He denies the pleasant
description of the Tibetans given by Hue, who calls
them "frank and loyal," and is hard pressed to find

A Century of Irritations

enough ugly words for the making of his own de-
scription. Being much piqued by his failure, and
being quite without the historic sense, our good
Desgodins falls to exaggeration. The true Tibetan
will perhaps be found somewhere between the pane-
gyrics of Turner and Hue on the one hand and the
maledictions of Desgodins on the other. The grum-
bling missionary scarce tasted the crumbs of a hos-
pitality which had once provided full loaves.

Perhaps if the Tibetans could read Le Tibet
d'aprcs la correspondance dt's Missionaires, they
might confess to present incivility, while pointing
back through the years to show how they had
treated the European before their hearts were filled
with dread of him. They had received occasional
Europeans since Odoric de Pordenone traversed
Tibet on a westward journey from China in the
fourteenth century.

In the sevemteenth century two adventurers have
left trace of wanderings in this far land. In the
eighteenth century various Capuchin and Jesuit
missions — in one case numbering twelve persons —
were lodged almost continuously in Lhasa from
1708 to 1754; and a Dutch lay traveller lived there
during part of the same period. In 181 1, Manning,
sole Englishman to make peaceful entry, dwelt in
Lhasa, enjoying the kindness of the lamas, great
and small. Next came Fathers Hue and Gabet,
last of Europeans in Lhasa until the gates were
yesterday opened to the sound of the insistec* **«fle
— a sound which has scarce ceased to startle tiv
1 lindustani plains or the Himalayan valleys since the
field of Plassy (1757) became an empire's birth-place.

2IO

Tibet and Turkestan

This it is that affrights them* this ever-advancing
boom of cannon, rattle of musketry. They have
cherished a tradition that the snow-gods inhabiting
the colossal seats of their southern border would
protect them against all enemies coming up from
that region : but the Goorkha and Kashmir invasions
brought a doubt, and now they know that there is a
people mightier than their ancestral gods, mighty to
conquer, and mighty, we shall hope, to rule wisely
and justly. It has been increasingly clear to the
Tibetans and to their suzerains, that only complete
exclusion of Europeans would effectively preserve
the status quo. It was also clear that their watch-
fulness and rigour might be specially directed toward
the southern frontier (British Darjeeling being only
twelve marches from Lhasa) rather than toward the
north where interminable deserts stretched their
rampart of desolation.

They had seen Nepal, Sikkim, Bhutan, and
Ladak, constituting the whole of their southern
and western frontier, pass under British "protec-
tion," and recently, in 1888, they had seen Sikkim,
a little territory (2600 square miles) wedged in be-
tween Bhutan and Nepal, fall into a much more
direct control of the invaders. Vainly had they
protested against this last approach— for Sikkim was
in a sense Tibetan territory, interposing only a two-
days sharp march between Darjeeling and their now
recognised boundaries. Protest took the form
indeed of an army, a monkish rabble armed with
spears, matchlocks or bows, and which wisely fled
before the organised destruction of British cannon.

Then must the Tibetans have felt that they were

A Century of Irritations 211

justified three years before (1885) in resisting the
approach of the "Commercial Mission," the organi-
sation and disruption of which, at Darjeeling, caused
so much newspaper disturbance and balked so many
ambitions that have been bequeathed to the more
fortunate personnel of the Younghusband expedi-
tion. As early as 1876, in the Chefoo convention
with China, a treaty basis was laid for a "commer-
cial mission" to Tibet, the date of the intended
expedition being indicated as "next year." But
this convention was not fully ratified until 1885,
the clause referring to the establishment of Tibetan
relations sleeping more soundly, perhaps, than any
other.

When diplomatic delays had ended, and the signa-
ture of Chinese officials had been subscribed to an
engagement in respect to passports and a general
smoothing of the way for British intercourse with
Tibet, there was a gathering of men and things at
Darjeeling. The men were three hundred in num-
ber, but among all the three hundred, not a commer-
cial agent. Was it British humour which Parliament,
the Chinese Minister, and the Tsung-li-Yamen at
Pekin heard, when the Under-Secretary of State
for India, referring to the leashed warriors at Dar-
jeeling, said: "The object was to confer with the
Chinese Commissioner (the Amban at Lhasa) and
the Lhasa government as to the resumption of com-
mercial relations between India and Tibet," and he
adds, does this saturnine Under-Secretary, "look-
ing to the delicate nature of the mission it had not
heat thought wise to appoint a special commercial
representative. ' '

_i>f: am _:

rspottcd

Thar. ".: tiir -zcjizj^z n: sazi. t mmssrrns nasod -

zrBZc:::; zlzi ~ wa- thuL^tz: xs rr abandon the
project. Tirt russir-r ¥-25 rrjrtnned. Its aganisa-
ti'jz. wa= i. i.^t3sr. Tr z-^osrtd ir wsb-Dst making
a Tngr'y Tfr—-ient :•: the arigis &l error was another
bfcnder. Ir. :?;*•£ * new rDcreztacci »hh r*h^ a
reflected tbe zb^zk by rnserri:>r of a danse which
releaser Crira fr:>rr try prrsirrre engagement to
fpvt Tibetan passp.-rts ant relegated the whole
matter to the limbo of * ' China shall use her best
endeavour." or such like empty generality. The
armed attack upon Tibet's frontiers, in iSSS. did
not fail, we may well believe, to further convince
the Tibetans that missions of all sorts must be kept
out at all hazards.

This seizure of Sikkim not only completed the
white man's hold upon the southern crest line of
the Himalayas, but it gave control of the easiest
roadway over the mountains, down into the Chumbi
valley. That the trap should be sprung in due
course of time was obvious enough. Something

A Century of Irritations 213

must arise which should again force that expansion
of empire which English historians (and latterly
American apologists also) virtuously deplore. The
way was now prepared for the self-sacrificing ad-
vance. It was, then, in a moment of fatal digres-
sion from a traditional policy of non-intercourse,
that the Dalai Lama, a few years ago, sent presents
to the Czar, thus "offending" the British Govern-
ment and giving Lord Curzon argument with which
to partially satisfy the Exeter Hall conscience of
his nation. We are now brought to a consideration
of recent events.

CHAPTER XVn

CHASTENING OF HERBERT SPENCER — BRITISH

POUCT — CONTEST FOR A BARE BONE—

PRESENT POLITICAL SITUATION

HERBERT SPENCER (PrtmcifiUs *f Stcitlogy,
p. 5S4; D. A. & Co.. 1897) delivers himself,
rather intemperate!}-, I think, as follows:

' ' U % in oar days, die name ' birds of prey and of pass-
age,* which Burke gave to the English in India at the
time of Warren Hasring's trial, when auditors wept at
the Account of the cruelties committed, is not applicable
as it was then; yet the policy of onscrnpnlons aggran-
disement continues. As remarked by an Indian officer,
Deputy Surgeon-General Paste, all oar co n quests and
annexations are made from base and selfish motives
•lone. Major Raverty, of the Bombay army, condemns
* the rage shown of late years for seating what does not
and never did belong to us, because the people happen
to l*e weak and very poorly armed, while we are strong
And provided with the most excellent weapons.' Resist-
knee to an intruding sport wain or a bullying explorer,
or disobedience to a resident, or even refusal to furnish
transport-cooties* serves as sufficient excuse for attack,
conquest, and annexation. Everywhere the usual suc-
cession runs thus: Missionaries, envoys to native rulers,
concussions made by them, quarrels with them, invasions
01 l hem, appropriations of their territory. First men are

Chastening of Herbert Spencer 215

sent to teach the heathens Christianity, and then Christ-
ians are sent to mow them down with machine-guns!
So-called savages who, according to numerous travellers,
behave well until they are ill-treated, are taught good
conduct by the so-called civilised, who presently sub-
jugate them — who inculcate rectitude and then illustrate
it by seizing their lands.

"The policy is simple and uniform — Bibles first,
bomb-shells after. Such being the doings abroad, what
are the feelings at home? Honours, titles, emoluments
are showered on the aggressors. A traveller who makes
light of men's lives is regarded as a hero and feted by
the upper classes; while the lower classes give an ovation
to a leader of fillibusters. ' British power,' ' British
pluck, * 'British interests,' are words on every tongue;
but of justice there is no speech, no thought."

Viewing the eminence of the authority just
quoted, it may seem bold to endeavour a recast of
the philosophical setting in which historical critic-
ism should be placed. But Spencer's tone, in the
paragraph above, seems rather that of an angry
Isaiah than of a scholarly determinist. Let me
therefore endeavour to clothe the nakedness of his
condemnations — while averring that the program
outlined in the excerpt seems to have been closely
followed in British Tibetan events.

There is in the universe but one Will (or self-
existent law). It has expressed itself to us in the
hateful tempests of Nero's soul, not less than in
the ineffable happiness of accomplished i- 1 1 ■ ..
the cross; in the fury of Attila, not Ichk than in the
wrapt ecstasy of Gautama under tin Bo ''.< , in
the turning of this leaf by you, O law-||ovcii< l

2l6

Tibet and Turkestan

reader, not less than in the sweep of a solar system
through unmeasured space; in every evil, not less
than in every good. Such is my belief. If then
the British power, ruthless, shall complete its
destruction and construction in Tibet, then this
ruthless act shall have demonstrated its necessity
in the general scheme of things. Why preach about
it, then? I do not know why, the ultimate why.
But this preaching is also compelled ; it is an effort
toward something desired.

As to the application of adjectives such as
"unjust," "unwarranted," "cruel," "unnatural,"
and the like, to any act of individual or government,
with the seeming intent to condemn, as one con-
demns who believes in individual free-will; concern-
ing this, it must be explained that the determinist
finds his tongue taught certain tricks in childhood.
He cannot easily lay them aside. Language has
been formed chiefly by those who have been made
to believe, among many other errors, that concern-
ing the freedom of the will. The words "sunrise"
and "unnatural" spring equally from erroneous
belief, which it pleased the Power to create. The
sun does not "rise" and nothing is "unnatural."
When the determinist condemns and executes for
murder, his position toward the murderer is this:
"You have been brought to kill a man under such
and such conditions. I have been brought to
believe such an act as directly or indirectly harmful
to me; I have been brought to believe it now to my
interest to kill you. We are both acting under law,
no man or beast can act otherwise." Now if the
determinist stands quite alone in his condemnation

Chastening of Herbert Spencer

and execution of the other man, we call his act priv-
ate revenge or justifiable homicide, etc. If he is
acting with many others, through organised instru-
ments, we call this united action, "public justice."

The difference between condemnation made by
him who thus recognises the universal force of one
Power f from that made by him who thinks he
believes in many wills, lies chiefly within the
respective breasts of the critics* In the first case,
there cannot exist anything of bitterness; in the
second it may exist. Having thus by a little dis-
cursive philosophising taken away the sting from
my quarrel with British-Tibetan policy, lest the
Government die of it, we may set ourselves to an
inquiry into this most interesting and important
question.

As the brute power to execute its will against
Tibet undoubtedly exists in the British Govern-
ment, it is important to determine what are the
motives actuating British policy. The question is
not stated because of a conviction that national
policies are always clearly conceived and systemati-
cally followed by any government. Generally this
is not the case ; haphazard and awkwardness proba-
bly play a larger part in the affairs of state than
they do in the affairs of John Smith. Yet in the
case we now consider, the territory in question lies
so far beyond the world's general movement that
the existence of any policy whatever, in its regard,
would suggest that suCh a policy must have definite
beginnings and direction.

If we turn to the past — to the spectacular days of
Warren Hastings, we need not hesitate to interpret

218

Tibet and Turkestan

his outreachings toward Tibet as being merely part
of the luxurious growth of a marvellously rich
mind, fertilised by ambition, heated by the sun of
success. That something great might be found
among the Himalayan summits, was enough to set
his imagination aflame, and in his strong nature,
action followed close the heels of fancy. We may
safely vault from his day almost a hundred years of
Indian history, before finding events which could
seriously fix responsible minds upon the Tibetan
problem. Within those years, and since France
withdrew from the fields where her genius had
blazed the way for England's power, that power
had been extended over three classes of territories.
First are the lowlands — wide-spreading, populous,
easily subdued, rich (relatively) in commercial op.
portunity and in state-revenue payment. Here
the motive for conquests is not far to seek; they
were made by a commercial company. Next come
the first tier of mountain states, difficult to conquer,
more expensive to administer (relatively) and not in
themselves rich in returns of any kind, save military
glory in the first days of blood. They were dis-
turbers of the border peace, and it seemed cheaper
to subdue and rule them, than to forefend at the
frontier. Last come the outpost countries of the
Himalayan region, valueless as commercial fields,
not dangerous to their equally valiant and better
organised neighbours of the first tier of mountain
states. The sole motive for their conquest lies in
the fear of Russia, the power which, in Hastings's
day, lay so far to the north that it was not within
the range of "practical politics."

Chastening of Herbert Spencer 219

Whether or not the Russians, by attacking India,
would ever bring upon the world the most appalling
calamity which could befall it as an outgrowth of
present international jealousies, we may not know.
That reasonable precaution should be taken even
against this improbable atrocity, no responsible
officer would doubt. But there has been wide
difference of view among enlightened English states-
men — not all of them stay-at-homes either — as to
the wisdom of constantly advancing and lengthen-
ing a frontier whose character is now frankly mili-
tary. It has been strongly argued that strategical
advantage lay in the way of leaving upon an enemy
the burden of approaching over long lines which
are among the most difficult known in the world.
Even if the natives be more or less friendly to an
advancing European army, yet the natural obstacles
remain to wear away the force of the intended
blow. "Let us meet such an onset," say the ad-
vocates of this policy, "on a shorter front, drawn
within countries which are self-supporting, and near
to the great rich plains which are the only regions
worthy, in themselves, of permanent occupation.
Let us at least await the attempted seizure of the
unprofitable border-lands by our northern rival; let
us await some clearer evidence of Russia's intent
to dethrone us, before spending the treasure of
our subject-races, their bodies, and some precious
lives of our own people in the conquest of barren
mountains.

" If the attack is being prepared, it cannot be done
in a day or a week or a month ; the sudden foray of
the mountain wolves against the defenceless lamb

220

Tibet and Turkestan

of the plain is no longer possible, for to the lamb
also we have given fangs and his bloody claws. If
we hold only the first tier of hill-lands, we shall be
able to destroy any incoming foe, or even to ad-
vance, meeting him. For are we not as intelligent,
as quick as he? Are we not able, with a tithe of
the money spent in conquest and occupation, to buy
for ourselves information and interested loyalty
— loyalty of the only sort upon which we can
count in playing our r6le of Foreign Tyranny?"

But these arguments have not prevailed. Re-
joinder has been made that in general it is best to
hold the highest passes rather than to await the
enemy somewhat lower down ; that his presence in
the border lands, uncontrolled, might result in stir-
ring up of revolt among the plainsmen, this being a
possible program as full of danger as one of open
war; that the valleys have, since time was, been
conquered from the northern hills, until British
ships and gunpowder opened a new way from the
coast. Yet, now the northern danger may recur.
There has been added to these arguments the prod
of restless military spirit in the army of occupation.
Very important is this ambition in making the
character of a soldiery ; very dangerous also to the
world's peace. For quarrel-making there has been
the time-honoured question of boundary lines in
rough country. Even with most pacific intent on
both sides, there must be frequent misunderstand-
ings as to frontiers in the wild, almost unknown
regions of towering peak and winding ravine where
is played the game of Himalayan politics. When
on one side is the delicate pride of a conquering

Chastening of Herbert Spencer 221

race, on the other the outraged sensibilities of war-
like, ignorant tribes, it is obvious that a big crop
of V.C.'s and D.S.O.'s must be the result.

It is just a little pathetic, this thought that in the
world of printed history, each such quarrel, with its
attending tragedies, is reported as "an unwarranted
attack upon British territory," or again "a maraud-
ing expedition boldly projecting itself over our
frontier." We shall never know how cruelly exas-
perating it must be to the disinherited — this seizure,
on paper, of unmarked lands to-day, the outcry of
injured sovereignty to-morrow, the hastening of the
"punitive column" the third day, fresh seizure of
unmarked lands the fourth day, and so on ad
infinitum.

The algebraic sum of all the soliciting forces has
been in the direction of advance — west, north, east
— ever advance. Baluchistan has been conquered
and held ; Afghanistan has been marauded piteously
in two campaigns emblazoned with death, heroism,
and decorations, but the bold and crafty Afghans
could not be subjected; the Chitral and the empty
Pamirs have been sentinelled ; the uncouth Baltis
have been punished and controlled; pacific Ladak
remains an outpost of empire, though in a Mahar-
ajah's name; Nepal, Sikkim, and Bhutan have been
forced to obey orders from Calcutta, and now,
because a Bhuriat from far-away Lake Baikal has
taken photographs in Lhasa and seduced the Dalai
Lama into the courtesy of gift-making to the Czar,
lo! Tibet is visited with the hot breath of war —
and a thousand skeletons testify to the prowess of
the white man; to the glory of Christ and to the

222

Tibet and Turkestan

satisfaction of the ghoulish dogs whose bellies are
the tombs of Tibetan dead.

It is harrowing. Yet after all, death is for all;
the cutting off of even ten thousand shepherds at
an average of say fifteen years before disease and
age would claim them, is not a large sacrifice for
humanity to make in keeping an empire's peace.
But the sacrifice would not end with the death-
rattle in ten thousand throats. There would be,
yea, to-day there is, and for many morrows there
will be, bitterness in a million hearts. That is evil;
not measurable, but great. And there is, beyond
all else, a wounding of ideals all the world over —
unless it be very clear to the world that some
greater evil has been forefended, or some great
good established by the myriad rotting corpses,
and that reasonable inquiry found no other protec-
tion from the evil, no other instrument for the good
than in the killing of many innocent men. That,
indeed, is the crux of the matter. Given the possi-
bility of Russian desire to attack the British-Indian
establishment, we must question then the amount
of harm that might reach English interests if Tibet
had been left in her isolation.

Two lines of effort would be considered by the
Russians, if in any way Tibetan territory were to
be used in the game. The first would be by military
occupation with the view of descending upon India
from Tibet ; and the second would be by stirring
up, through intrigue, the Tibetans, in coalition
with the Nepalese or Bhutanese, to strive unaided
against the British power. To accomplish the first,
Russia must have forced or cajoled the Chinese

Chastening of Herbert Spencer 223

Government to give up two provinces, Turkestan
and Tibet, since an advance (assuming it physic-
ally possible to reach Lhasa with an army from the
north) must be over Chinese territory. It is obvious
that such an effort by Russia, in the face of known
opposition in England and America against the
disintegration of China, would be attempted only
as part, and the last part, of some great program
of an international war of the first magnitude. In
such case no conduct of Russian affairs, short of
one headquartered in an insane asylum, would
squander upon the Tibetan plateau forces urgently
needed elsewhere.

So terrible are the obstacles placed there by
nature, that the Chinese strength, small as it is,
would be more than sufficient to stop an army
moving toward Lhasa, from the difficult north,
and would be, if friendly to Russia, wholly power-
less as against British force, moving from the easy
south. Those who were impressed, in a vague way,
by the long delays of the Younghusband expedi-
tion, with the view that the military operations were
difficult, must yield that opinion to the facts. It
was diplomacy, not strategy, which ate up the long
months, which gave the Tibetans ample time to
prepare a resistance doomed to be of the opera
boufff kind, and which aggravated greatly the
problem of supplies for the British force.

Imagine a single company of Cossacks, known or
reasonably supposed to be actually on the plateau,
and you may at once imagine Lhasa reached,
conquered, and destroyed by the British within
two weeks from the time a column should leave

224

Tibet and Turkestan

Darjeeling. On the other hand, imagine Russian
columns starting from Osh or Irkutsk, even with a
suppliant court in Pekin, and you may imagine time
for British agents to spread the news across desert
and ocean, time for British concentration at Darjeel-
ing, time for the sack of Lhasa, a] I before a rem-
nant of the devoted Cossacks should have time to
struggle into the valley of Tsang-po, asking but one
boon of the British— to be captured and fed.

This enormous difference in the physical relations
of Tibet toward the north and toward the south, is
a vital fact in the consideration of the probable
complications. That the view here expressed is not
a peculiar one, appears from the familiar recitals of
distress experienced by all the explorers, with their
small and specially equipped caravans. As shown
in one of the appendices,' it is moreover a view held
by some distinguished and expert British authorities.
But let us suppose the incredible to have been ac-
complished; that the supine Lion has permitted the
outrageous Bear to hibernate in Lhasa's monas-
teries, and that the whole world has definitely
yielded the "Chinese integrity" policy, — a supposi-
tion which involves satisfaction of enormous appe-
tites by a wholesale cutting up of the Chinese body,
wrongly supposed to be a dead carcass.

Russia can get no substantial benefit out of
Tibetan occupation per se. She would find it ex-
ceedingly difficult — impossible, I think, to hold
Lhasa against any Tibetan liberating effort. Rus-
sian soldiers must be fed, and only constant physical
pressure at the centre would bring in food from

1 See discussion of paper read before R. G, S., February 8, 1904.

Chastening of Herbert Spencer 225

Tibetan fields. Substantially the whole force
would be rendered impotent for offence by the
requirements of the commissary department. So
narrow is the present margin of food-supply, so
impossible the import of food from the north, that
every augmentation of numbers attempted by an
occupying power would only increase the difficulty
of maintenance. But let us further suppose the
incredible. Imagine, then, a small band of surviving
Russians, who shall have committed such frightful
slaughter as to paralyse the faculties of the lamas,
preventing them from offering even the Quaker
resistance of the English nonconformist to irritating
school-rates. Imagine some of them enrolled be-
hind Russian leaders and newly learned in the art
of firing Russian rifles. Now they must be pro-
jected against, nay, through, Bhutan, Sikkim, or
Nepal. In the nature of the case, the Europeans
are but a handful, and the natives are but a rabble,
and the ammunition. supply is small and the food-
supply precarious. It would be wearisome to try,
in these pages, the chances of every pass by which
they might graze the crest of the Himalayas.

I appeal for justification to every British officer
in whose breast burns even a spark of the old flame,
when I say that not a single man of such an invad-
ing force would ever reach the soil of India proper.
The Himalayas would swallow them; the place of
their graves need never be known save to the Brit-
ish-led Sikhs and the Goorkhas who would have
killed them. And if this be not true, then the
emasculated Briton should render to Cesar the
things that are Caesar's, for Cxsar is ever enthroned

230 Tibet and Turkestan

attractive, honourable in ail private intercourse;
yet prostituting, as you and I may do to-morrow*
the magic power of the telegraph and the printing-
press for spreading abroad and perpetuating such
crude nonsense as may be read by any one who
takes even the blue-book side of the Tibetan story,
beginning with the "Commercial Mission" of 1885
and ending with the "Negotiating Mission" of 1904.
The first was a harmless fiasco, the second a tragedy,
with possibilities of becoming a fiasco. It was
organised to prevent Russian interference. Lord
Curzon has not yet disclosed any reasonable ground
for supposing Russia had endeavoured in Tibet any
acts unfriendly to British-Indian interests. But he
feared they might. This reason for the bold step
is openly enough alleged in the correspondence. It
was even more frankly admitted by every intelligent
discussion of the subject, particularly in the admin-
istrative columns of the London Times. For accur-
acy's sake, however, it is well to record the other
alleged motives, though if the historian, like the
judge, may adopt as a maxim, de minimis non curat
lex, then all the other incidents might be passed in
silence. After the Tibetans had been forced back
from the Sikkim frontier in 1888, it became prudent
to have some precise demarcation of boundary lines,
as nobody in London or Calcutta seems to have been
prepared just then for forward movement, nor had
any occasion been given which could be thrown to
Little Englanders (f. c, those who declare for ethics
of the individual in national affairs) as an excuse for
following the extremist policy of empire-stretching.
Therefore in 1890 a convention was drawn be-

s
i

The Wolf and the Lamh

*t '

i o ffici als on the one hand and | mi i
of Chinese and Tibetans on Lin ndin
The meetings were held near the- front u-i line, ,,..
tcuUlifeljr agreed upon. Provision was i.
aScaHy made for erecting monument* aUn^; .i Inn
which, in the nature of the case, defied 41*11
description.' Recognition was had alio of the fai 1
that shepherds had from time immemorial wiin>l> 1. 1

back and forth over all these Imaginary J i>

nor does tt appear that trouble hail ->> 1 11 until un
the British insistence upon strict den nit Ion whore
definition is substantially impo.s -. 1 1 ■ I •■ . Pffl IllOfl
was also made, though this was oppnsrd l>i tin-
Tibetans, for the establishment of .i marl, uo.il, of
the frontier, to which Indian tradeoff might I •
access, and in which the traffic wan to be |y 1 1
only to limited burdens of tax.

The Chinese officials finally consented to co-
operate with British agents in <i mi h
Several years of delay in this reaped drugged -m
and finally the monument-, wire set up by Hiitisli
officials acting alone. It was ,<i |., ..., ntly . hcirged
that some of these bad been kn,„ l..<l down by

Tibetans. As their location w.i lumi I • >nly

by their enemies, and as they were of no value aave
to give further occasion for offence in tin In n tefON
careless movement of a few shcpli. i.l BVBI 1 -I'so-
late country, one may understand sui I • 1 " < -
We of course have no way of accurately learning
the Tibetan view of any of these events. There
was also charge of delay in making the necessary ar-
rangements for the market-place at Yatung, though

' See Appendix E.

232

Tibet and Turkestan

little was needed, if the Indian traders chose to
present themselves at a known spot in a desert
and take chances of selling their goods. That
those who do not want to buy your goods shall
be forced to build your storehouses and your
temporary dwelling-places and establish means of
supplying you with food — that is hard. Among
people of nearly equal strength it would be called
outrageous.

The Tibetans were opposed to contact of any sort,
as it is probable that through Chinese channels they
already knew of the success of various disguised
surveyors, in the service of Calcutta, who had pene-
trated their country in many directions, even to
Lhasa's self, and had carefully mapped its roads,
mountains, and towns and rivers. Such maps are
precious to the scientific geographer and to the
thoughtful warrior. The difficulty of protecting
themselves even by theoretical non- intercourse is
great: they might well consider the task hopeless
if various traders were to be admitted. Some of
them would certainly be spies. The Chinese had as
much reason to hesitate, in this special case, as the
Tibetans. Loss of their suzerainty was to be con-
templated as probable, and also loss of their tea-
trade. A period of five years was fixed for the
non-importation of tea from India, and other word-
ing showed plainly enough that the day would come
when the Tibetan market would be forced open.'
This you may say is righteous; monopolies are
generally bad. Free trade is good. That, too, is
my belief. But there is something better than free

1 See Appendix, G.

The Wolf and the Lamb

233

trade, and that is the right of a people to govern
itself.

Another tea episode — more than a hundred years
old — stands out in English history, in its details dis-
creditable to both parties, yet illustrating the fact
that liberty is dearer than tea. It is not in the least
probable that the effort by England to force Assam
tea on Tibet will be followed by such consequences
as those belonging to the more famous incident in
Boston Harbour; for the Tibetans are weak. The
parallel is of value only on the sentimental side,
removed by many degrees from the field of practical
empire-building. The Chinese doubtless make a
profit out of the tea trade with Tibet, and doubtless
the English or native tea growers in India would
like to have this profit. As the matter stands,
however, the Tibetans prefer Chinese tea to any
other, and even pay more for it, in Ladak, where
Indian tea is easily obtainable, than the price of this
latter. And even if they did not like it better, the
vast danger of receiving any other is so great that
they must be willing to sacrifice a nuance of taste
for the very substance of political liberty. The
Yankees, be it remembered, did not have even brick
tea as a substitute. It is of no consequence — all
this commiseration of the poor Tibetans who are
forced to take Chinese tea — nay, it is of conse-
quence, for it is hypocritical and mean. They do
not want to trade with India. They are afraid to
trade with India. They will be forced to trade with
India.

Of this treaty of 1890, as of a later convention in
1894, we may say, in charging the British policy as

254

Tibet and Turkestan

the cause of all subsequent troubles, what Pym said
of the Earl of Strafford, under impeachment: "If
there were any necessity, it was of his own making •
he, by his evil counsel, had brought the king into a
necessity; and by no rules of justice can be allowed
to gain this advantage by his own fault, as to make
that a ground of justification which is a great part
of his offence."

The chain of events is an unbroken one — treaties
made under duress, slow fulfilment or misunder-
standing of terms, further demands on the part of
the aggressive power, allegations of petty wrongs
that have obviously proceeded from the initial great
wrong. Such allegations constitute the fringe
hanging on the naked body of Tibetan offence;
that naked body was the gift-sending to the Czar.
As to why that was considered a wrong, we have
already inquired. As to the propriety of dwelling
but shortly on the contentions about a non-existent
trade, JEsop wrote fables to serve in just such
cases. We are hearing the wolf and the lamb
engaging in a world-old conversation. The action
follows, and we may now follow the action.

When the South African war had been ended r when
the chase of the Mad Mullah had ceased to demand
great attention, when Japan had begun a brisk
correspondence with Russia about Manchuria, the
time seemed ripe for urging again an unwelcome
trade upon the Tibetans who ask but one thing in
all the world — that they be let alone. A high com-
missioner was appointed, his escort was gathered;
just enough, he declared to the frightened Tibet-
ans, for illustrating the dignity of his office; it

The Wolf and the Lamb

rapidly grew, when the Tibetans begged him to
desist from entering their country. Soon it became
an army of about ten thousand men all told.

The commissioner indicates at once his mild at-
titude by declaring that he will not negotiate at the
point within Tibetan territory which his hosts have
nominated. Imagine that message coming from a
man leading an army into your country; imagine
the nauseating hypocrisy of it ; imagine the terror,
the despair, the final frenzy of it among the victims
of this Christian-led force of Mohammedans and
Hindoos going into a land of monkish farmers and
shepherds ! There was honest hope, stupidly in-
dulged, that the poor creatures would yield their
country without a fight. They were known to be
helpless, but they were not known to be heartless,
and why Colonel Younghusband continued to nego-
tiate for the control of the country before shooting
a goodly number and thus satisfying their natural
desire for effort and for sacrifice one hardly knows.
Could he be Machiavellian enough to have con-
sidered that every day's delay meant a larger in-
demnity ; could he have tarried until that indemnity
reached a figure which meant indefinite occupation
of the country? No, it is not probable, yet pos-
sible.' The probability is that his course was
merely halting from two causes: an honourable
desire to avoid bloodshed, and a stupid belief that
he could accomplish his object without it.

There were the usual delays of waiting for Chinese
Ambans, tentative discussion, frantic appeals by

1 See below for confirmation appearing tfler this chApi**-
written.

236

Tibet and Turkestan

various Tibetan officials that he should withdraw to
the point named by them, remorseless advance of
the armed executioners, and finally ' a day came
when — oh, but it was all their fault.

We only wanted to disarm them, and they ''began
it." We were disarming them and they began it!
We are sorry, but such stupidity, such disobedience,
clearly puts us in the right. The hundreds whom we
shot down were really suicides, and our men were so
moderate! They killed only some hundreds (we
never knew how many) and yet they were filled
with righteous vengeance, for several of our people
were killed by the rebels and several more were
injured. How wickedly stupid of them to resist
this disarmament ! Have we not come for their
good? And did they not send presents to the Czar?
And now is anything left to us, followers of Christ,
except to march on to Lhasa and teach these
people a lesson ?

Yes, O lordly Briton, you have taught them a
lesson and all the world is the worse for it. Per-
haps good shall come out of the evil you have
done, but you have been made to do what men call
evil, even as the tempest that wrecks our ships,
even as the fever which ravages our health, even
as the serpent which poisons all the body.

So the march was made to Lhasa, after the glorious
victory of Guru and many other butcheries.

Decorations were being devised while the treaty
was under consideration. But the Dalai Lama had
gone from his seat ere the British entered. While
they were gazing with ambitious eyes upon the build-

1 See Appendix O.

The Wolf and the Lamb

ings which represent a people's faith, and were violat-
ing by their presence a people's rights, he was errant
on the plains; where, we do not know. Then came
his deposition from temporal power by Chinese edict ;
the arm that reaches from London to Lhasa swings
heavily round to Pekin.' The Pantchen Lama is
set up by British force, because somebody must
sign the treaty they have drafted, something must
be done to give basis for further action next year.

The season draws on apace, and it would be a
fearsome thing to be shut up in Lhasa all the long
winter, Even these unarmed people might find a
way of deliverance during the months when no more
cartridges could come from the land of Bibles. And
food is scarce, of course ; while the fear is upon
them, the Tibetans let the grain come in, but even
their fear or their good-will cannot grow another
crop to feed the unusual mouths. If all these be fed,
Tibetans must starve. Starving men "are desperate.
Nay, we must go down the hill, having gaily
marched up its steeps. But somebody must sign
something; so the poor recluse from Teshalumbo
is brought to Lhasa; clothed, by the British, with
authority which amounts to a revolution in Tibetan
administration ; signs a paper drawn by the British,
and they go away. The work is done, or well begun.
Next year, when the impossible indemnity shall still
hang over the land, we shall be in Chumbi Valley,
and does not Clause IX. make us suzerains in fact
though (now) we hypocritically declare that we have
not disturbed the peace of China, and though we

1 But the Pckin authorities were canny enough to call this only a.
" temporary " deposition. The play is not yet ended.

Tibet and Turkestan

actually must await Pekin's action before claiming
the whole thing as a fait accompli f

But surely we have done enough to justify us in
further interference. We can ever claim that this
treaty, signed by our Pantchen Lama, gave us vested
rights. There ! Is not that worth a whole deluge of
decorations ? Think of it ! We have vested rights
in Tibet ! Why these people are under out protection?
In our paternal care of them we may exclude every-
body else. We may even exclude the Buriat wor-
shippers (Russian subjects) from the shrine of their
religion; for did not great danger come to our wards
through one of them ? Were we not vexed by his
taking of presents to the Czar ? And suppose we
had not been the considerate, too-tender, too-for-
giving Christians that we are, how terrible might
have been the fate of these people !

Twice have they grievously sinned against us,
yea, thrice. Once — never let it be forgot ! — they sent
presents to the Czar; once they refused to receive a
peaceful mission of soldiers, when and where Colonel
Younghusband desired to be received ; and once they
declined to be disarmed by us. And yet many of
them are alive! Has ever a people been so full of
Christian grace as the English people? And, lastly,
we can now arrange that these people shall buy tea
from us. It may be cheaper than the tea they now
prefer, and yet at a lower price there will be profit
in it for us. Truly our Good-Samaritanism is with-
out bounds!

And now we must go. because we see we cannot
be comfortable here, all of us, during their dread-
ful winter; and though we have won their love.

The Wolf and the Lamb

239

yet we think it wiser not to leave a small number
of us here. That wicked Dalai Lama might return,
and then — ! But we also shall return, for must
we not bear the white man's burden? Must we
not protect them? Remember, then, that we are
now married ; has not the bond been signed ? And
if there ever was a question as to the propriety of
our attentions, there can be none now. Yes, we
shall come again. Meanwhile they must be faithful
to the marriage vow in Clause IX, ; otherwise — but
how could they be so wicked? — after such a gentle
wooing, after such a happy wedding!

These tender adieux having been cried out to a
listening world, the high commissioner and his es-
cort went away, bearing the marriage certificate and
reaping much glory. Of course the Russian Govern-
ment interposed its objection to so flagrant a breach
of faith as appears from a comparison of promise
at the outset with performance at the end. Even
far.away Washington, long before the treaty was
drafted, but when a few observers pointed the drift
of things, uttered a word, merely a sort of "We
view with concern," — yet of some significance.
The Chinese Government up to this writing has not
formally accepted the terms forced upon its local
representative. Lansdowne has indicated that he
would listen to Russia's proposals of modification;
the Dalai Lama is still in the offing. The Tibetan
people are again wrapped in obscurity, and it remains
to see whether they will be quiet under a new gov-
ernment ; the change involves so many complicated
threads of religious and political habit that we can
see little of the future.

240

Tibet and Turkestan

Doubtless one thing, full of opportunity to the
English, has been securely accomplished ; that is
the establishment of discord in Tibet. There are
few countries, however civilised, in which the fire
of faction would not burn high after the giving of
power by exterior force to one group of men, tak-
ing it from another. We do not sufficiently under-
stand the real sentiments of the influential lamas
toward the two great Incarnations; we do not know
well enough the real attitude of the Chinese au-
thorities as distinguished from their enforced ac-
tion under British pressure; we do not know well
enough the degree of stupefied despair which may
have taken hold of the Tibetans at large on seeing
the recent exhibition of barbarous will working
through the power of science. It may be that this
alone will bring submission, all internal adjustments
between factions being made secondary to the desire
to escape from the vengeance of the Christians. Yet
even their submission may be checked by the
resistance of others.

The proposed treaty clearly threatens the rights
of Russia's subjects — Kalmuks and Buriats — who
have from time immemorial journeyed to Lhasa's
temples. The fierce, and, I believe, unwarranted
suspicion, which has led to the war just ended,
might at any time, if wielding suzerain power, cut
off this pilgrimage or unduly harass the pilgrims.
The rights of China are flouted; the proposed treaty
is, in fact, an attack upon the integrity of the Chinese
Empire, as a corresponding aggression upon North-
ern India by Russia would be considered as an
attack upon the British Empire. Yet England is

Where watered sands burst into life.

The Wolf and the Lamb

particularly loud, in chorus with the Americans,
in demands for the maintenance of Chinese integ-
rity. Her ruthless act in Tibet must undoubtedly
shake the prestige of Pekin authority all over Mon-
golia and Turkestan, and may have indirect results
of most serious character.

As to what will be the duration and vigour of
resistance offered by Russia and China to the con-
firmation and enforcement of Younghusband's con-
vention, that is plainly a question whose answer
must be heard in some echo from the mountains of
Manchuria. China's diplomatic movements are ha-
bitually slow, even when her interests would seem
to demand haste. In this case, unless she is pre-
pared to brave the insistent English, her interest
lies with delay. But Russia and China are not
alone, though vastly preponderant, in their interest
in the Tibetan question. The indirect effects may
be of wide international import. This phase of the
question was broached by me in a paper appearing
in the North American Review of May, 1904, shortly
after my return from Asia, and before the rigorous
Clause IX., or any part of the drastic Younghus-
band convention had been published. That its
near-by previsions were just, the event has proved.

A quotation from that paper may well explain
the ultimate danger to the Asiatic — hence to the
European — situation that may spring from the
apparently isolated events in an almost unknown
mountain-region.

" The practical destruction of Thibetan independence,
which may be assumed as the object of the present

242

Tibet and Turkestan

YoangJmftaad expedition, win serve Russia admirably,
m aathorizing the easy conquest of Chinese Turkestan.
For such is the accepted code of balances generally
adopted by the nations who believe themselves com-
missioned to benevolently assimilate certain other na-
tions. Indeed, except for her present preoccupation in
another part of the Chinese Empire, the consular guard
might at any* moment be put to the easy task of seizing
the reins of government now in the hands of the quiet,
dignified, philosophical Chinese officials, who, alas * have
somewhat outgrown that simple faith in Force which
controls the policies of Christian nations. The easy-
going Turki people, natives of the soil, accustomed to be
mastered, will doubtless be indifferent to the change,
perhaps even hopeful. Already they feel that the Russian
Consul-General largely influences the acts of the Chinese
Taotai,

"Recognizing then that the status quo is now being rude-
ly shaken in Thibet, and may at any time be destroyed in
Turkestan, let us note that in both cases there will result
a partial disintegration of the Chinese Empire, for whose
integrity the world may well be concerned. In neither
case is the territory now considered a part of any of the
eighteen provinces constituting China proper, but in one
case the administration of all public affairs is directly in
the hands of men named in Peking, and in the other the
suzerainty of China is distinctly recognized in the presr
ence of three Ambans residing in Lhassa add exer*
cising preponderating influence in all important matters.
If, however, the encroachments from this direction could
be guaranteed to be arrested at the frontier, separating
china proper from Turkestan on the one hand, and
Thibet on the other, the world-at-large — wisely shirking
the moral questions, because all have sinned alike —
might be content to exhibit only the interest of curiosity

The Wolf and the Lamb

243

in the changes now working in the heart of Asia. But
can such an arrest be possible as against the compelling
rivalry of two great, forceful, belligerent empires ? They
will each have long frontier lines at the back door of
China, In each case the controlled territory has intimate
relations with China proper. A hundred petty questions,
some large ones, will arise, each capable of being de-
veloped into a cause of complaint. Complaints against
China when made by the peoples of iron and fire are
usually satisfied by taking something from China, unless
objection be made by some yet stronger nation of iron
and fire. Quite independent of any plan looking thereto,
even against their vague plans of moderation, the jealous
rivals may find themselves driven on to continued ag-
gressions. And these jealousies will thus operate in a
theatre so remote from the world's success that gravest
injuries might be inflicted upon the peace-loving celes-
tials long before such injuries could be known to friendly
critics, ourselves for instance, who insist that no harm
shall be done to China which may do harm to us.

"This, then, is but a word of caution. There is no
room for cant or self-righteousness on the part of any
nation. We have all been made sordid. What we call
progress has self-interest as its mainspring. To prevent
surprises and recriminations it is best that there should
be no misunderstanding. European and American dip-
lomats in China should now endeavor to watch the back
door as well as the front door of the great mansion which
all desire to enter. My prayer is that our quarrels may
not urge us to do unmeasured violence to a great, civil-
ized, non-military people."

In discussing with Mr. Rockhill the probable
i-istward extension of the contest for advantage
between Great Britain and Russia, he justly pointed

*44

Tibet and Turkestan

out, as tending to minimise the danger, the fact that
the Lhasa authority ends long before the frontier
of China proper is met, going eastward*, that, in-
termediate between the great Central Tibetan state
and the Empire, are several large districts, some
substantially independent, some under a Chinese
rule far more direct than that at Lhasa, and in any
case free from political connection with that city.
Some of these smaller states, indeed, as Mr* Rock*
hill and other travellers in Eastern Tibet have
testified, are more or less jealous of the Lhasa
Government. These conditions, it seemed to Mr.
Rockhill, would put a stop to English movement
eastward; these states, he thought, would be a
buffer between the Lion at Lhasa and the Dragon
of China. But. though yielding to none in my
respect for Mr. Rockhill's authority, I yet feel sure,
that if Nepal and Tibet have not served as buffers
in the past, we may not count anything as a sure
buffer in the future. The very dissensions which
now indicate a certain independence of the small
states, will become inducements for endless exten-
sion of British Power if once it be established at
Lhasa.

Assuming Russia in Kashgar and England in
Lhasa, we must observe, moreover, the new phase
of parallelism of march as distinguished from frontal
approach. The faces of both will be turned east-
ward and prestige will drive them forward over
perils, as neck-and-neck horses arc driven over
hurdles to the finish. True, if China meanwhile
is solidified by external or internal force, so that
her frontier is one that can resist pressure by force,

a
v
C
o
jq
U

o
'5.

The Wolf and the Lamb 245

then our coursers may be stopped, but not other-
wise.

Whether or not complications in Western China
will be viewed as seriously by others as by me, it yet
may betaken for granted that the rape of Tibet will
not be forgotten by the statesmen of interested
nations when they gravely begin that general read-
justment which must follow the close of the Russo-
Japanese war. No incident as large as that just
precipitated by Lord Curzon's fears and Colonel
Younghusband's ambition can stand alone in the
world's politics of to-day. It is probable that even
if the main wise upon Tibet be permitted to be per-
manent. Great Britain will somewhere else be re-
quired to yield a quid pro quo out of proportion to
the value gained in Tibet. I say out of proportion
because I consider that value as nil or negative, and
1 mean the value to the average inhabitant of Great
Britain and also to the average inhabitant of India.

If Great Britian were a cooped-in nation, if her
energetic sons found no open spaces in the world for
stretching their legs and sharpening their wits, then
perhaps the opportunity for even the few whom
Tibet could support would be of general benefit.
But the administration of present holdings by Gov-
ernment, and the maintenance of a sharp commercial
contest throughout the world, — these two national
activities create demands for men, for brains, which
are not more than met. There is no surplus. Such
work as England has so largely in hand requires
high-grade men. The ordinary white man is not
the typical sahib, yet in many corners of her sub-
ject-world, it is only the sahib quality in her

Tibet and Turkestan

the

down of many by ok. Without it, there might be
r cqa i rrd almost as mmrjr Tommy Atkinses as there
are satires to be held. That this jafat fmmtity has
been wider/ furnished, that it docs wooderfnl work.
I can stoutly testify. I can also testify that it is
not wise to have one solitary sahib in Zcila, as was
the case when I went thence into Africa. Only
two were at Adts Abeba, one of these leaving with
me. Only one at a frontier post near the eastern
border of the Soudan. Only forty white men at
Khartoum in June, 1900. (The smallness of this
number was a surprise, even to those who counted
noses at my suggestion.) One only, as related in
these pages, at Kashgar; and so in many a lost spot.
Then suddenly, because the one man is overworked
(as I saw at Zeila), there comes a war which might
have been avoided had there been time to get into
the hinter-land. There would be time to feel the
country ahead of one, as I know had not been, could
not be, done on the Abyssinia-Soudan frontier.
Need one say anything further as to the fatal lack
of good men before and during the great Boer war?
Not every white man has the sahib quality. That
is the important thing. So it is that the ever-
wing demands of administration, and the ever-
growing demands of a new competition in commerce,
run almost beyond the output even of the mighty
womb which has sent its sons to girdle the world.

A conservation of the British Empire seems to me
,1 m.itlci of maximum importance to nil the world.
That it should be conserved, it must, I think, be
Conservative, The raid into Tibet I believe to have

The Wolf and the Lamb 247

been wild, not capable of bearing good fruit. Its
occupation is not necessary to the preservation of
the Empire's peace; nor would it conduce to the
Empire's prosperity. Any harm that could possibly
come out of Tibet could be met, at the moment of
its appearance, at less moral and material cost than
by years of repression and injustice based on mere
suspicion. The whole world must come under the
British flag if the "maybes" which cost Tibet its
independence were to be applied to the rest of us.

IF, then, the Younghusband raid seems to be what
men call a crime, and what men call a blunder,
what next? Let us suppose two possibilities: first,
that in a reasonable time the treaty shall be rati-
fied substantially as written. Then, in order that
any effect be had, in order that things be not as
they were before, there must be occupation by force
sufficient to awe the Tibetans, The corresponding
occupation of Turkestan by Russia, sooner or later,
must be contemplated, and the probable series of
complications already described in the excerpts from
the North American Review. Second, suppose the
treaty to be not ratified, but emasculated. The
most difficult point may be the excision of the in-
demnity clause, for it must be supposed that even
in India, non-voting, non-represented India, her
British rulers would hesitate to charge up an ac-
count of ;£ 5.00,000 against Indian revenue, acknow-
ledging its expenditure to have been unwise. Yet
that would be the cheapest way out, I think, and, if
necessary, London might help to bear this burden;
but that is a counsel of perfection. The perfectly
honourable, perfectly Quixotic, and hence perfectly
improbable course would be the following: Let it
be frankly stated, " We believed you might be in con-
spiracy to put yourselves in Russian leading-strings;

243

Counsels of Perfection

we are willing that you should be independent. We
find we were mistaken in regard to the Russians,
hence we revert to the position always held (on
paper) that we have no designs against you. As we
were wrong in our suspicions we of course have
no right to a war indemnity. Our claim in that
respect is remitted. You desire to be isolated, and
your desire should be a recognised right. We want
peace of mind in the future concerning the possible
intrigues of our great rival.

"As a fair compromise, representing less than our
force might demand, we, acknowledging our initial
error, now propose that a British agent be stationed
in Lhasa, without any authority, since there are to
be no relations except those you may desire, but
merely as an observer, a visitor, whom, knowing,
you shall learn to like and to trust. The trade-
privileges extorted from you, and considered dan-
gerous by you, will be abandoned. If gradually,
by reason of our agent's representations, you come
to a different opinion as to us, we shall be glad to
strengthen our relations in all friendly ways. We
want your friendship. Our God and your great
Incarnation, the ineffable Buddha, are both reported
to have urged men to love each other. We may
not be able to live, as our Master advised, a life of
non-resistance *, we may not be able to do good to
those that despitefully use us; but we think our-
selves capable henceforth of being good to you if
you are good to us, i. r., if you have no conspiracy
by which Russian influence shall become dominant
in Lhasa, whatever that may mean."

Now, gentle reader, you may imagine how

Tibet and Turkestan

^iir ■

nfcni

Dwil

would seem to Lord
r of tic genttrmen around him who
■d the world so seriously and make
The u n tinhi featuring to criticise is
to be ignorvd : as a matter of fact he is
i with MinWirnt data for wise cri ti-
the affair in Tibet to be

one in which only the admitted facts need be con-
sidered. I shook! feel that the able men in Calcutta

prooaorjr i

ionJK

my first impressions to
Bat it is true that administrative
ends ate often cl ou d e d by knowledge of the very
detail which gives them a sense of superiority. And
again, the imfor iMmt mtral wtimtmms between com-
mumibes, as bet w een men* are best guided by a few
general principles, and even one who b not viceroy
of India may grasp these.

So dear is it to me. however, that outside amateur
criticism is liable to error, when the case becomes
c o mp lKn ted , that I now proceed with much more
hesi ta tion than before to state one of my first and
strongest impressions as to the unwisdom of the
present Tibetan policy. It has seemed to me that
when the facts shall be understood in Afghanistan,
as in the end they wul be, grave risk will arise of
losing the nascent favour of the Ameer, and of
compromising British interests, in a quarter where
none wul question their present importance, how-
ever one may criticise the course which led to their
creation. How different the situation there from
that existing m the north-east ! Afghanistan is co-
terminous with British -administered territory. Tibet
is not. Afghanistan b inhabited by a warlike peo-

Counsels of Perfection

pie. Tibet is not. Afghanistan is a bridge spanning
directly from British to Russian territory. Tibet is
not. Afghanistan is of like religion with millions
of the least pliable among the Indian populations.
Tibet is not. Afghanistan is blown with fanaticism
and the pride of past conquests in Hindoo lands,
Tibet is not. Such are their dissimilarities. But
both are small nations, clinging devotedly to their
present political and social conditions; both felt
themselves as sitting insecurely just beyond the last
reach of the lion's claws. Afghanistan had twice
been torn to the entrails by his outstretched wrath,
but had flung death aside; and now, through the
skill of an English surgeon who healed the Ameer's
hand (wounded in a shooting accident); through the
elation caused by news of disaster in Manchuria to
one of the threatening neighbours; through several
transient favouring causes, the royal mind has un-
bent and leaned, or now seems to lean, toward
British friendship.

The observer who knows only these facts might
well inquire as to the wisdom of a course which,
by a needless attack upon a hermit people, may
frighten the young confidence of the Ameer and
confirm him in the faith, held by so many of his
people, that the lion never sleeps and is always
hungry. The possibility of losing ground in Af-
ghanistan by virtue of a raid into Tibet, with doubt-
ful gain as maximum reward, must certainly have
been contemplated by a watchful Government in
Calcutta, In respect to such an indirect and some-
what complicated relation, the amateur and foreign
critic is silent, or merely wonders. He bows to the

252

Tibet and Turkestan

great god "Government" like a loyal Briton, not dar-
ing to say of it, " TanUzne animiscotlestib

Except that confession and restitution are not yet
among the phenomena of national ethics, no one, I
fancy, would find fault with the speech of peace-
making which I had ventured to put into the mouth
of the British Government. Exceptional as it is, I
feel sure that, if uttered in sincerity, it would be
followed by the happy results which most of us have
experienced, now and then, in our private lives.
Surely the best relation, selfishly considered at Cal-
cutta, and assuming Tibet to be a point of possible Rtu~
sian intrigue, would be that of friendship. But the
course of past events has made it impossible that the
Tibetan should not entertain fear rather than love of
the British. Little has been done to dissipate, much
to encourage that fear. Even in the acts which were
extraneous to Tibetan relations, as in China, and
which had no conscious reference to them, this had
unfortunately been true. All the more reason for
special effort here. How shall friendship be shown,
you ask, to a people who refuse our modest "com-
mercial missions"? Let them alone, or slowly gain
their good-will through the Ladakis and Kashmiris
who have access to them and who afford you a far
more useful intermediation than Russia possesses.

1 This view of the case seems to be abundantly justified by the re-
cent refusal of the Ameer to meet any of the substantial demands
made by the British Commissioner who sought modifications in the
existing treaty between the two Powers. Resulting from his unex-
pected obstinacy are several threats of punishment appearing in seri-
ous British publications. True, they are not official — but they are
straws in the current of public opinion .

5 c

J 8

J "S

■"* 1

•s £

5 -s

< i

Counsels of Perfection

253

It will take time to win them. It has taken a
century of encroachment to fill their hearts with fear
of you. But you know that there is nothing, save
fear of you, to cause them to give a second thought
to Russia, far away across the dreadful deserts.
Then remove the fear of you in Tibetan hearts, and
you thus remove the fear of Russia in yours. It is
possible that this should be done. The whole his-
tory and delineation of the people suggest it. Con-
sider their weakness and your strength. If ever
they have listened to the Buriat's words of sugges-
tion, if ever he suggested anything more than the
welfare of his own community as hanging upon the
favour of the Czar, then it could be only because
you have bred fear instead of love. These people
received you kindly in the past ; they have opened
their doors to those who preach your faith; and
they have seen a wall of fire approach them. Try
to assure them that the flame will not again tongue
the peaks of their mountains. Try to take into
your dealings with this poor people the warmth, the
hospitality, the friendship, the quick charity which
your splendid officers have shown to me, a helpless
stranger, in many forsaken spots of the traveller's
world. And as to that unselfish interest in the de-
velopment of a people which, after all, does exist in
your hearts, let it be satisfied by reflecting that the
vast changes now making in China must reach Tibet,
even if you let it alone. Slow indeed would be the
process; with less of heartburn and despair; less
loss of faith in something great and good; less vio-
lence done to honesty in your own breasts; less
strain upon the peace of nations; less worship of

254

Tibet and Turkestan

the brute throughout the world,— such would be
the awakening of Tibet by China.

Summarising, we may say that Russian military
occupation of Tibet is almost incredible; that if ac-
complished, it must be done across the corpse of the
world's Chinese policy; that, if extended against
India, it could result in nothing but a massacre of
such Russo-Tibetan forces as might be entrapped in
the Himalayas; that mere intrigue could produce,
if, incredibly, it produced anything at all, only some
abortive effort even less serious than the imagined
movement under Russian leadership; that there is
as yet no known evidence of Russian anti-British
"intrigue " -, that in either case the imagined attack
upon India from Tibet could be foreknown through
a moderately efficient secret service; that it could
be met when precipitated with far less expenditure
of energy and of treasure (practically no lives are
involved in either case) than the Younghusband ex-
pedition has involved ; that the maintenance of en-
forced trade-privilege will result in absurdly small
commercial advantage and ominously large political
irritation. The course actually pursued has con-
firmed the Tibetans in their fears of British conquest ;
the Afghans in their blackest suspicions ; the Rus-
sians in their charges of British duplicity ' ; and the
world at large in its suspicion that brute force, not
justice, must be the protection of any cause what-
ever. Against such evil effects there is not now
any righteous remedy except that known aforetime
—confession and restitution.

1 See Appendices showing relation between diplomatic relations
and actual results.

CHAPTER XX

THE SACRIFICE OF YOUNGHUSBAND— WHAT NEXT ?

SINCE writing the preceding chapter, there has
appeared a second Blue Book in re Tibet. It
reveals a contest between Policy and Logic. Lon-
don had heard the notes of discontent emanating
from several capitals, and vigorous protest from St.
Petersburg, the capital most seriously and directly
interested. The Younghusband treaty had not been
received as a source of sweetness and light in inter-
national politics.

Wisely mindful of the vast burdens which the
Empire is accumulating, and fearing that the sure
gain of Tibetan occupation might be far less than
the loss due to European (and American) opposi-
tion, it was decided to sacrifice Colonel Younghus-
band, and, with him, those terms of the treaty
which, alone, can give it substance.

Clause IX, declares in effect a protectorate over
Tibet. This clause was dictated in London. To
obtain for it the signature of even a trumped-up
Government, London had permitted — yea, com-
manded — the slaughter of many innocent men. It
stands for a violation of Tibetan autonomy and of
Chinese suzerainty. To make it effe
thing more must logically be bad-

256

Tibet and Turkestan

secured by Colonel Younghusband. His corre-
spondence discloses the {act that — as was surmised
above — the indemnity had been fixed at an "ex-
orbitant " figure. The adjective is Colonel Young-
husband's. But he wanted to use it "in trade."
He finally "accepts their own proposition " (so
gracious is the wolf to the lamb), and provides for
seventy-five annual payments, pending the comple-
tion of which — that is. for seventy-five years — there
is to be British occupation of the Chumbi Valley.
That is Tibetan territory — and the military key to
the situation.

Here is something out of which enforcement of
Clause IX. could be had. But, as logically belong-
ing to the haughty pretensions of that clause, there
must be closer touch with Lhasa than would result
merely from the establishment of troops in Chumbi
Valley — still half a dozen good marches distant from
the capital. So it was in the earlier negotiations
wisely provided that the British commercial agent,
ordinarily charged with the conduct of affairs at the
two trading-marts provided in the treaty, should be
allowed, when he deemed it necessary, to proceed
to Lhasa. Thus supervision and force were reason-
ably created to perpetuate a control which, xvithout
them, must be the veriest sham. Both these pro-
visions have been disallowed, in whole or in part, by
the Indian Office in London, and Younghusband
has been publicly reprimanded for wilfully exceeding
specific instructions.' But if no British are to appear
again in Tibet, how shall the ghost of Russian in-

1 The provision for visiting Lhasa was struck out before signatures
were had.

Hie Sacrifice g£ Yramghusband *$?

tefta e u cc be laid?" What check exists now a^aitM
the drearifui DorrijierF voidi did not exist helot e-
the raid': "Tie treatr exists/* replies the Indian
Office, "uid now. if we hear further rumour*
at intrigue. we smil have, out of our treaty* a ♦>»>»#.»
bfili. ' '

Bur you have just made a war without a treat v
you made it jt ,w«r art/*,, alleging only atwtinl 111
mours as your excuse — and such rumouti wilt ittptln
be created for you or by you in the future <t* lit I hi*
past. Indeed, they are muck more /♦• be e\f*% f, ,/ n,'h*
than ever before. Now, as never hefoie, I tin I ||m>
tans may be led to give car to him who iiil^lil l»>
guile diem with promise of protect ion hum void
blood-stained hands. And, without «upi 1 vhlon it I
Lhasa, without nearby force ever thieali'iilnii pun
ishment, the nervousness, the iltntt u>«t , I lit. Imllvu
hope of the Tibetans, co-operating with votti uwii
suspicions and enforced ignorant e, muni main
troublesome situations which wnv lmpon>tilili: Itv
fore the raid.

Occasions for misunderstanding will hnllui ittinu
from the presence of unwelcome trath-t* ««l tin- m.n In
which the Tibetans arc requited to mUUIlnlt, «tml
especially from the attempted ilUotgituiitalloii ul the.
tea-trade, now the source of a coimltlerahle pail ot
the revenue of the governing ila**. The indemnity
has been reduced from seventy live <tunu<tl pay
ments, aggregating Rs. 7,5111 >,<*■»>, to I went v live
annual payments aggregating Ki. J,tnM»n The
occupation of Chumbi Valley ha* been reduced from
a definite period of seventy-five years, to a mil)'
of three years. Hut the door is cunningly lof

258 Tibet and Turkestan

for returning substantially to the Younghusband
provision. It is declared that

"the British occupation of the Chumbi Valley shall
cease after the payment of three annual installments of
said indemnity, a fixed by the said article. Provided,
however, that the trade-marts, as stipulated in Article 2
of the said Convention, shall have been effectively open
for three years, as provided in Article 6 of the Conven-
tion, and that in the meantime the Tibetans shall have
faithfully complied with the terms of the said convention in
ail other respects.'' (Italics are mine. — O. T. C.)

In dealing with Tibet (if standing alone) the
British Government will be the sole judge of its own
complaints. On the very face of the Viceroy's
edict, just quoted, it is apparent that the gracious
reduction in the period of occupation may at any
time be withdrawn. Real or alleged grievances of
Hindoo traders; real or alleged exploits of Dord-
j Jeff's spectre ; real or alleged resistance to the proper
setting of boundary stones — almost any of a thou-
sand pitifully small acts of a disturbed people,
treading a new path, may serve to end the farce of
grace.

The Blue Book discloses, too, all the wrangling
between authorities which led to the making of the
magnanimous edict. It shows him who officially
uttered the gracious words strongly contending for
the retention of the terms exacted by Younghus-
band. It shows the Secretary for India, who de-
mands the changes, urging British international
interest, not justice or clemency for the Tibet,
as the effective reason for modification. And it

The Sacrifice of Younghusband 259

shows both finally compromising their divergent
views in the "act of grace." Had the Blue Book
not been published, the Tibetans might have been
deceived. But as the English language is under-
stood in Chinese embassies, the fraud must be known
even in Lhasa. There, men wear hideous devil-
masks that hide good-humoured faces. Now they
know that the English "act of grace" means simply
this: "Unless prevented therefrom by rival powers,
we shall do with the Tibetans whate'er we will."
*T is a fair mask hiding an ugly face.

The rejection of Younghusband by the Govern-
ment adds nothing of morality to its r61c. The
publication of the Blue Book does, however, suggest
an engaging simplicity.

Confession and Restitution — these still remain to-
day — approved by Religion, neglected by States-
manship.

■

CHAPTER XXI

SKETCH OF THE HISTORY OF TURKESTAN '

Turkestan abc

curtain rises

lotan is known in the Chinese records at
about that date. In 177 B.C. these records set forth
the expulsion of Khotanese and Kashgaris from
their homes due to the incoming, from North-east
Mongolia, of swarms of Yue-che, of Mongol or
Tartan race, who sought new homes vi et armis.
Those whose vines and fig-trees they coveted were
a people far advanced beyond the Yue-che in all the
civil arts. Enough has been said in connection with
the ancient MSS. recently discovered (p. 60) to in-
dicate that the Khotan country (doubtless includ-
ing the region farther westward) was the seat of
some learning as early as the date ascribed to this
movement; and even without the specific evidence
which has been found to indicate that fact, it might
be fairly deduced from the mere existence of several
considerable cities in the Tarim basin. Their exist-
ence in such a land supposes extensive systems of
irrigation, and these, in turn, always bespeak a highly

■ The author has delivered several lectures on the journey recounted
in this book. Subsequent conversation with his hearers has sug.
gcsted the need of a short presentation— such as here is attempted —
of the history of Turkestan. It is not essential to an understanding
of urgent problems, but will, perhaps, interest some lovers of the
BOt.

260

. -5

2 |

•c

Sketch of History of Turkestan 261

developed social organisation- Tiat their ultimate
effect would be to weaken toe organisation as a
military force has already been pointed out. It is
not probable, therefore, that the hardy shepherds
from Mongolia paid much of their blood for the
conquest of the rich oases.

In speaking of the expuhicn of these earliest
dwellers I have used a term frequently found in
that connection, but in strictness it should be called
merely a conquest. The attack of the Yue-che
was not that of a ravaging army led by a Jenghiz
Khan or a Tamerlane, having his seat of power
already fixed, and now merely hungry for dominion.
It seems to have been the effort of a displaced peo-
ple to find new homes. They were unaccustomed
to fixed agriculture with all the niceties of a tangled
irrigation works: wholesale slaughter or expulsion
would then have left them without toilers for the
ditches and the fields, whose fruits they might take
as landlords. That a considerable number of the
conquered should leave is not unlikely — in particu-
lar the pride-hurt chiefs and their closer following.
The traditions of West Turkestan, indeed, bear wit-
ness to such a movement ; the earlier settlers there
were disturbed by this secondary wave — the dispos-
sessed becoming thus the dispossessors. But the
body of the people probably remained. To what
race they belonged is not known, and because of the
darkness, many students have boldly stumbled for-
ward with theories equally lacking in proof or dis-
proof. Such speculation was rife even before the
recent extended discoveries and studies of Sveii
Hedin and Dr. Stein. While the latter hit* n'

262

Tibet and Turkestan

far as I know, expressed himself on that point, it
has seemed to me that the facial types shown in
certain statues found by him, and the mental type
disclosed by some of the recovered writings, point to
a race not Mongol as having constituted the superior
and clerical element of the Khotanese inhabitants
as early as the beginning of our era. Yet» on the
other hand, little has been found to cause the temple
ornamentation or religious literature to be accepted
U proper expressions of the general genius of the
people.

Religious antiquities, coming from an era just
following the acceptance of a new faith by a con-
verted people, must not he lightly adopted as evi-
dence in the establishment of racial affinities. The
mere susceptibility to Aryan influences, as shown by
the various "finds " in the buried cities, hints of a
certain docility and suppleness which may mark any
people dwelling in the dense and enervating condi-
tions of oasis life; while the absence of original work
in any developed art suggests affinity with the Mon-
gol who has ever been extremely indifferent to all
that may be known to us as classic influence. The
few facts available to us for reconstructing this pe-
riod in Turkestan seem entirely consistent with the
theory that the invaders of Tartar-Mongol blood
were gradually absorbed by their more numerous and
more civilised victims, while the resulting composite
race became, for a time, at least, of tougher fibre,
but not insensible to the artistic and religious im-
pulses reaching it from the south-west or west, and
which, even before the coming of the Yue-che, had
already influenced the Tarim civilisation.

Sketch of History of Turkestan

Many students indeed would suppose, not merely
Aryan (Grasco-Bactrian or Graeco-Indian) influence,
such as might be exerted by the incoming of a few
enlightened teachers or great merchants; but would
trace the very origin of the Tarim race itself to some
western or south-western source. A reference to
Darius's dreams of conquest and colonisation in the
farthest East is thought to point the way toward a
theory of Iranian ancestry. The frequent occur-
rence of monkey images in day among the an-
tiquities taken from Boresan, about three miles from
Khotan, suggests a popular familiarity with Macca-
cus Semnopithicus, an animal commonly found to the
south of the Himalayas. This toy, together with
the similarity of head-dress shown in small terra-
cotta images to that known in Northern India sev-
eral centuries before Christ are seized upon to give
Hindu-Aryan grandfathers to the Tarim people.
The idealised lion-faces (see p. 140) are also numer-
ous at Boresan; those from which the illustrations
are made were picked up by the natives from some
new-cut face of the loess, formed by the wandering
current of the river. These lion-faces do duty as
proofs of Mesopotamian influence, or, to the ad-
herents of Hebraic ideas, of Mesopotamian origin.
The lion is not known in Turkestan. Its image is
everywhere — even in snowy Tibet it is a common
architectural ornament.

An inspection of toy-shops or bric-a-brac counters
in London or New York might, by reasoning similar
to that just recorded, result in bringing us all from
Africa — home of the menageries which, in paste-
board and in flesh, have furnished our childish or

264

Tibet and Turkestan

our grown-up curiosity with its choicest satisfac-
tion- Western influence, beginning probably not
later than the Alexandrian conquests, seems to me
well established; western origin of the body of the
people of that age seems to me not established, and
even improbable.

The body of the people were perhaps always, as
now, related in blood to the Mongol-Tartar family
— well represented by their near neighbours of the
mountains, the shepherd Kirghiz. Some of these
would gradually form permanent settlements in the
foot-hills of the great ranges, where grazing and
irrigation-agriculture could be combined. Then as
the knowledge of the latter method grew, its ex-
tensions would form the great oases, having perma-
nent cities, which would become permanent marts.
To the modification of type due to this change in
occupation and physical surroundings would be
added the blood change due to the incoming of
traders from other lands. A nomadic people is of
stable type — mixture of blood being almost impos-
sible. But no city-dwelling people, having markets
even measurably open to the world, can long remain
of pure stock.

Returning to the Yue-che invasion, and assuming
it to have been followed by a period of assimilation
of victor by vanquished, the two having an under-
lying kinship, antedating the fixed settlements of
the Tarim people, and postdating their uplift by
Aryan influence, we come, in the Chinese chronicles,
to a conquest by the Chinese themselves. That
was the beginning of a hold upon Kashgaria which
has continued, sometimes shadow, sometimes sub-

Sketch of History of Turkestan 265

stance, until to-day. This conquest is definitely
placed in the first century of our era. It may have
been preceded by an intermediate wave of Mongols
— the Hueng-nu (Huns) who were the cousins and
enemies of the Yue-che, Indeed the earlier move-
ment of the Yue-che was due to the pressure upon
them by the Hucng-nu, who were constant dis-
turbers of the peace on China's north-eastern fron-
tier until, shortly before the date last mentioned,
they had been worsted by the Emperor's armies and
were streaming westward, eventually to work their
fatal course across Europe. They moved chiefly
along the easier line through Dzungaria, north of
Turkestan; but it is not improbable that they sent
minor streams southward to infiltrate among the
populations which had been vanquished by those
whom they themselves had vanquished one or two
centuries earlier. Such additions (probably not nu-
merous), to the Tarim people might have disturbed
some of its centres, but would not have seriously
altered the general racial status. Nor indeed does
this status seem to have been largely affected by the
advent of the civilised Chinese for whom this distant
region was but a military frontier and a tribute-field,
not a region of colonisation. Even now, when pop-
ulation density in China proper is much greater
than it was two thousand years ago, the number of
resident Chinese in Turkestan is small. The prin-
cipal officials, Manchu-Chinese, bring their families
with them and return to their proper homes as do
the English from India.

But this laying hold upon a distant province on
the other side of the interior desert caused the

266

Tibet and Turkestan

hastening of a momentous change in the great Em-
pire. It was here that the Chinese came into close
contact with Buddhism, which had come over the
snowy mountains to call men's minds away from
this sorrowful world of desire.

The devoted missionaries from India would
doubtless have found their way across nature's
hazards to the multitudes who swarmed on the
eastern ocean, even if the Tarim basin had not
already heard the gospel and had now become a
Chinese province. But the facilitation of missionary
effort, due to such conditions, is obvious, and may
have meant centuries, rather than decades, in the
progress of one of the world's most important re-
ligious movements.

Burmah, Siam, and Tibet offered possible paths
to the missionary who would go from India to
China; but they were themselves converted only in
the fifth, sixth, and seventh century, respectively.
Nor did the way through Turkestan long remain
open. Shortly after China had received the words
of peace, all intercourse with Turkestan was much
disturbed by the violence of the times — the Mon-
gols intruding themselves between China and her
distant province. Had the Buddhist propaganda
not been made just when it was, Christianity might
have disputed, centuries ago, the great field in
which now its labours yield so little fruit.

Behold the complexity of things: Mongolian no-
mads, the Hueng-nu, attack the settled Chinese
and are repulsed. Then they attack neighbouring
tribes, and are successful, driving their victims to
seek new homes afar off. Later they again attack

Sketch of History of Turkestan 267

the Chinese, who disperse them and follow the newly
opened way westward to conquer a country. East
Turkestan, which had first been conquered by those
whom the Hueng-nu had dispossessed. This coun-
try had received Buddhist missionaries, who con-
vert the victorious Chinese, adding many millions
to those who believe that Gautama found the
great Deliverance through the great Renunciation.
In a little while the intimate coming and going
through Kashgaria is interrupted; China loses its
hold, but the seed is sown; and in 399, 318, and
629 a.d. Chinese Buddhist pilgrims, Fa-hien, Song-
Yang, and Weng T'sang, respectively, pass through
Turkestan to visit Indian shrines made sacred to
them through knowledge of the Teacher, and leave
to curious generations such scant knowledge of the
country as the troubled times permitted. Mean-
while, ere the first of these pilgrims had set his face
westward, Christianity had mounted the throne
of the Eastern Roman Empire; and while Weng
T'sang was drinking his soul's fill at fountain-spots
of Buddhist worship, his own Emperor was cour-
teously receiving a Christian missionary at the
national capital. Nor had Mohammedanism yet
uttered its world-wide cry, the Prophet being still
but a struggling Arab preacher. But the centuries
which had passed since the words of the Meditative
One had been carried over the Himalayas, from
oasis to oasis, and across the wide desert to
China's heart, had now given to Gautama's memory
a veneration which their successors have not yet
destroyed.

The Christian missionaries have in later days

268

Tibet and Turkestan

renewed the work of O-lo-peen, the Nestorian of
the seventh century; Islam has with the sword con-
quered the Turkestan region, which was the eastern
of Buddhism, and it raises its mosques in many
a village of China's sacred soil, yet the millions of
the great Empire are Buddhists, not good ones—for
it is hard, so hard, to be a good Buddhist — but
Buddhists as Smith and Jones are Christians.

Shortly after the journey of YVeng T'sang, that
is, about the year 640 A.D., the administration of
Turkestan was again firmly in the hands of the
Chinese officials, only to be disturbed by marauding
bands of Tibetans ; whether from the western Ladak
country, relatively near, or from the Lhasa country,
relatively far, seems not to be known. The centre
of Tibetan power was in the East, but the newly
conquered Ladak country may have served as the
base of operations and recruiting depot for this dash
against Kashgaria. This probably meant nothing
more than the killing of some thousands and the
maiming of some other thousands of field-workers
and shopkeepers — a too frequent occurrence in the
world's history to cause any shudders when sepa-
rated from us by thirteen centuries and seven thou-
sand miles. The Chinese soon drove out the Tibetans
(whose leaders, it seems, were but a few generations
down from Western China) and next had to contend
with the Mohammedan power which had established
itself, at the beginning of the eighth century, in all
the Samarcand region, west of Kashgaria. The
Chinese bond seems to have been strong enough in
716 A.D. to permit a troubled Emperor to call upon
Kashgaria— and even far Bokhara — for troops to

Sketch of History of Turkestan 269

aid in the overthrow of a mighty rebel against the
throne. There followed other rude attacks from
Tibetans, who for a time threw themselves across
Western China, cutting communication with Tur-
kestan, Again a vigorous ruler was born into the
Imperial throne or a vigorous usurper chanced to
seize it ; whereupon the annoying Tibetans were
hurled back to their lonely seats. A little later,
another Mongol people, invading from the north,
grasped the sheep-prey which was the desire of
many wolves. These were the Hoi-he or Hu-he,
doubtless only another branch of that puzzling,
widespread family, whose kaleidoscopic marches
and countermarches across Asia have given to his-
torians a fine juggling exercise with shifting names
— Mongols, Tartars, Hueng-nu, Yue-che, Uigurs,
Tanguts, Ephthalites, Tu-Kiu, HoUHe, Kirghiz,
Kalmuk.

From the Chinese Wall to the Dnieper, from the
Tibetan frontier to the Arctic Zone, they are seen
fighting each other; overrunning the borders of
civilisation ; upsetting the beginnings of order which
some of their own blood may have established;
powerful while yet fresh from the steppe or the
mountain-side; easily corrupted by contact with
civil luxury; forming widespread and ephemeral
organisations which passed leaving no traces within
their bounds and only blood to mark their excur-
sions ; generally careless about religious matters;
building little and moving much; they are the will-
o'-the-wisp of Asian history. And the story of
Turkestan is the story of one inroad after another,
ever with reversion to China.

270

Tibet and Turkestan

These Hu-he were followed by the Kara-1
in the eleventh century; then came the desolation
of Jcnghiz Khan. He massacred freely, but he and
his free-thinking family were a protection against
the fanatic proselyting-by-violence of the Moham-
medan states on the west of the AlaJ Mountains;
Islam, however, stead Uy gained ground throughout
Central Asia, and ere many centuries had pa-
persecution ceased because of a happy uniformity
of sentiment.

In the sway of empire hither and thither. Kashgar
once, in the fourteenth century, enjoyed the perilous
distinction of being the capital of Tughlak Timour,
Some regal attention, in the way of bloodshed, it
also received from the great Tamerlane. Then, as
the centuries rolled by without producing other
universal tyrants, the priesthood, the letter-worship-
ping Khojas from Bokhara's schools, seem to have
usurped the State, until, in the seventeenth century,
a Kalmuk power northward from Kashgaria entered
to control the struggle of priest-ridden factions, and
at last, about the time America was preparing to
fight for independence, Turkestan sank back into
the arms of China, whose battalions had decimated
Dzungaria and spared not the resisting zealots of
Kashgaria. It seems not improbable that some-
thing of protection for the cities remaining in the
Kashgar-Khotan district resulted from that desic-
cation which, by destroying the towns lying nearer
to Lob-nor, rendered more difficult the inroads
of Mongolian hordes from the north-east. These
would be forced to a more northern route for west-
ward migrations, leaving the southern region to a

Sketch of History of Turkestan 271

slower, kinder, but surer desolation than their
bloody swords could make.

That the desiccation in itself was the cause of
great movements which reached and radically af-
fected Europe has been a favourite suggestion of
several writers- To me it seems improbable. The
destructions that were cataclysmic (a few such are
in Khotan tradition) would not furnish emigrants,
— only corpses. Those that were slow would not
extrude large numbers at the same time but would
cause some gradual displacement of population to
neighbouring oases and some decimation by dimin-
ishment of food-supply. The fixed inhabitants of
such regions, moreover, were not of the stuff of
which great migrations are made.

On the other hand it may be urged that, in so far
as this desiccation limited the regions within which
war-driven shepherds of the north-east might find
plunder and ultimately fixed seats, it may have
contributed to the force which urged them farther
westward. And further, in so far as the Tarim
basin held nomad populations, these might, in the
space of a few years, find themselves dispossessed
of grazing lands by the encroaching sands, — and
these nomads might thus join the westward-ho!
movement ; but there is no evidence that such
people were at any time numerous enough in the
doomed area to become in themselves conquering
armies.

The wars which followed during the nineteenth
century, quite up to our own time, were generally
religious rebellions, often fomented across the
mountains in Bokhara. At the end of one such

272

Tibet and Turkestan

failing effort nearly a hundred thousand people fled
over the mountains (or died while trying), in order
to join their kindred people in West Turkestan.
The last of these dramatic struggles began in 1864;
the Chinese were forced out of Dzunyaria, and a few
years later Kashgaria was in the power of Yakoob
Beg, a name which has a familiar sound to ears of our
generation. His bloody exploits were known even
to the European world, and his sudden elevation to
regal power was the theme of much admiring com-
ment. But his glory was short. Back came the
Chinese and down went Yakoob Beg, his sun setting
in a sea of blood.

It was scarce thirty years ago that the Chinese
Peace was re-established, yet the province is now
ruled almost without a semblance of military power.
It seems to have been immemorially thus. When
the fire of rebellion flames, the great Empire throws
upon it quenching floods from its bottomless well
of humanity, and then awaits the next conflagration.
Something there is in this of justice — the genera-
tions which yield are not burdened with the support
of the armies of "benevolent assimilation/' while
those who would strike at the great leviathan are
slaughtered as soon as armies may be brought from
the over-teeming fields within the wall.

And now the long drama, with an all-Asia caste,
is ended. When the curtain next rises we see
Europe on the stage modestly attired as a consul
and having about her a handful of soldiers, merely
guards, to preserve her dignity from breach. Be*
hold her in constant pour parkr with the former
heroine of the play — the fair maid from far Cathay,

Sketch of History of Turkestan 273

while round about them the rabble of subjects awk-
wardly, supinely, are massed, awaiting the pleasure
of the gods to determine the rivalry which cannot
be hid by ceremony. These people have ever been
puppets. They have submitted to their own history
rather than enacted it, nor have they had the wit
worthily to record their woes or their weal. We
know their past chiefly through the writings of the
great civilising power, China.

APPENDIX A

GEOLOGICAL AND MINOR GEOGRAPHICAL CONSID-
ERATIONS IN TIBET AND TURKESTAN

Partly from a Paper read before the Royal Geographical Society,
February 8, 1904.

WHILE ascending the mountains from Polu, one
sees rapidly at work the forces of disintegration
attacking the vast masses of exposed friable material.
Slates, shales, conglomerates, loose sandstones — such
are the abounding substances which the torrents wear
1 way. One also sees some large pebbles of the harder
materials scarcely to be found now represented by the
strata above them in situ. Great as are these changes
now, they must be pigmy efforts compared to the titanic
movements of the past. On the plateau one sees and
travels in veritable rivers of sand; its large limits mark
the boundaries of some great slow stream whose waters
came down from vanished heights. Again, where the
slope is greater, the course of a mighty torrent is marked
by close-packed, rounded boulders. In one case, we
followed the bank of such a silent river of stones to an
elevation of eighteen thousand feet, where a flat area
about three miles long showed boulders laid so accurately
to the level, so cemented by sand, sometimes so regu-
larly formed in circles, that one would have thought it a
pavement of giants leading to the foundations of huge
temples. Save, perhaps, in some stretches of the upper
Blue Nile, I have never seen a stream having at the same

274

Appendix A

275

time the width, volume, and velocity suggested by these
boulders, now for ever dry. Many of them seemed to
be granitic, though granite strata were not seen in the
neighbouring heights, which here — as generally across
the Aksai Chin — rose to an elevation of from one thou-
sand to three thousand feet above the flat areas. The
existence of such tremendous hydraulic force acting on
materials no longer seen in the position of upheaval, hints
of the degradation of complete strata of the towering
masses that have been crumbled from a uniform eleva-
tion perhaps not less than that of Mount Everest- When
one considers the wide-stretching sands of all Central
Asia and the empire valleys of India as being probable
deposits from these heights, the supposition just made
seems not over- bold. There is thus imaged to the eye
of the imagination a vast mound one thousand miles in
length, five hundred miles in breadth, and five miles or
six miles in height above the sea. Its southern front
and portions of its flanks are exposed, with varying
directness, to moisture-laden winds from the great seas.
Here then the secular attack upon the mound will be most
fierce. If the first snows that fall on the plateau's top
are frozen by perennial cold into a shield protecting
against hydraulic action — yet the lower vertical or in-
clined surfaces will be rapidly eaten away, and in their
fall the higher snow-covered portions are soon involved.
The debris is partly swept into the engulfing sea, never
to be seen again — partly deposited as new shore-line,
varied in direction by secret ocean currents; and partly
left as high, secondary formations, constituting a rough
ramp, — cut by a hundred streams, — yet gradually rising
from plain to plateau. On the northern slope, looking
toward the v.ist interior, which received only the pool
precipitation coming southward from Arctic waters nnd
the scant meltings of the plateau's snows, the process of

276 Tibet and Turkestan

destruction must be much slower; the northern body of
the plateau will hold a greater elevation than the south-
ern, and the northern face of the great uplift will be
more nearly vertical. (Hence it is that history must
record the giving over of Tibet to a southern. D
northern power.)

As time goes on this giant mound must grow smaller
in every dimension — for Neptune will have it that all the
mountains of the earth shall be dragged down to the sea
— and he sends up hourly millions of little rain-drop
coolies who dig the very rocks away. If the structure
of such a great mass be relatively homogene>
wear will be less ragged, particularly on the wide top, at
considerable distance from the much-disturbed edges.
But if there be somewhere a line of soft material, or if
the tilt of the surface, however small, shall chance to
throw considerable volumes of water along a given line,
even of average hardness, then we shall find a great de-
pression — as that of the Blue Nile, whose steep gorge
descends five thousand feet below the neighbouring
plateau elevation — yet the river-bed is still four thousand
feet above sea. And so here in Tibet the long line of
the Tsang-Po, or upper Brahmaputra, flowing in a de-
pression which begins many miles away on either side of
it, lies also about five thousand feet below the northern
(relatively undisturbed) plateau, and about eleven thou-
sand feet above sea-level. It leaves to the south, border-
ing its east and west course, high lands and great peaks
ere the true descending ramp be met.

Such a gash having been formed, the process of denud-
ation is hastened, because the width of level table-land
is diminished, and the small surface streams become less
sluggish. Wherever the elevation has been so lessened
that snow-coverings are removed by summer warmth,
there enters another element tending to quick removal

Appendix A 277

— the direct action of water being substituted for the
under-cutting, which must, for extreme elevations, be
almost the only possible method of attack. One sees
even now throughout the mountains we traversed this
process constantly at work, producing thousands of land-
slides — a favourite sport of the spirits that inhabit
mountains geologically young— and particularly those
I hat are high enough to have their upper portions covered
all the year round, or for a long season. They change
watercourses and caravan routes, give birth to short-
lived lakes which burst their sudden bounds and mad-
deningly confuse the exposed strata.

Snow appears on the Kuen Lun range at an altitude
of about 14,500 feet, and at about 16,500 on the moun-
tains rising from the plateau, the level spaces of which,
in September and October, are substantially clear. The
light snowfalls, such as we experienced, were quickly
evaporated during the warmer hours of the day by the
fierce winds blowing quite regularly from the south-west,
and constituting one of the serious hardships of travel.

A great part of the whole plateau is therefore exposed
to direct erosion. The effect near the edges of the plain
is marked. In the interior, the water being of small
volume, the streams meander hither and thither, cur-
rent scarcely observable, and form shallow lakes which
hold for a time that small part of the flow which has not
been drunken by the thirsty sands, Such tremendous
action of the past, of which we found the witness above
described, has not, to my knowledge, been discussed by
other travellers. I am therefore the less confident
theorising about it — yet suggest that, in spite o1
ably constant precipitation of snow and rain,
volumes of these plateau streams
larger when the area above eighteen thous
much greater, thus permitting an or-

2?& Tibet and Turkestan

snow far exceeding the present deposit, and this ac-
ilation then yielded, under the influence of the
summer's midday heals, those mighty torrents which
must have existed to do the work which has been done.

Vol< 'in. m tion has not been of wide extent. Indeed,
one sees so little of it along the whole line traversed bj
us over the Alai, Kuen Lun, Karakoram, and Himalaya
ranges, that I was the more forcibly struck by tht
areas in which this action is unmistakable. One is near
Lake Sarakul, and is about five miles square. Within
that area one may see several true craters and number-
less black, tortured masses rising about seventy-five feet
above the surrounding coarse sand. On the edge of (fail
area was another smaller one showing petrifaction of all
the stems and roots of a hardy grass. There was nothing
to indicate the continuation of any process of infiltration
to account for the petrifaction, though possibly the area,
which Jay four miles from a sulphurous lake, may at times
be flooded.

The second volcanic region was about forty miles
south of the first. Here the surface of the narrow valley
was covered, for a distance of several miles, with char-
acteristic volcanic boulders, and outcroppings of lava
in mass showed in the sides of the confining heights.
In the great east-and-west valley, however, nothing is
seen save what may be attributed to the ordinary effects
of erosion. That which is particularly noted here, how-
ever, is the marked difference in material and appear-
ance between the two chains limiting the valley. That
on the north is a sort of double chain, presenting toward
the valley a front of foot-hills, black or dark greyish in
colour, and showing the rounded forms that have been
subjected to erosive action for a period relatively long.
Behind them, and sometimes concealed by them if the
intervening distance were considerable, rose the main

Appendix A

chain, always snow-capped, and also showing rounded
characteristic smooth forms. This chain sometimes re
ceded from the line parallel to our route, but seemed
never to lose its continuity until merged in the Kara-
koram range.

On the south side the colour was bright brick-red, the
forms sharp, turret-like, fantastic, suggesting relatively
short and violent hydraulic action. So great was the
difference that I was led to suppose the southern chain
may have resulted from some later earth-movement than
that which gave birth to the northern range. These two
characteristic forms and colours are found mingled in
inextricable confusion at both ends of the valley; and,
again, the chapels, towers, and minarets of red appeared
along the short valley which we ascended near Camp
Purgatory. This appearance has probably given rise to
the misplaced name Kuil Jilga, shown farther south on
existing maps. The Kirghiz had never heard of this
name as belonging to this locality, nor, indeed, of any
of the names shown on the R.G.S. or the latest Russian
map, as along and near the Karakash. They applied
the name Kizil Jilga to a big red mountain on the Kara-
koram route. As in all this region there are no inhabi-
tants other than the Kirghiz met by us, it would perhaps
be well to omit these noms de faniaisie from future maps.
The two lakes shown on our route deserve, on the other
hand, that some name be given them. One, of fresh
water, is possibly that called Lake Lighten by Wellby.
The other lake is salt, and has been visited by natives,
we thought, because a trail was seen near it, which we
tried to follow, but vainly, — it gradually disappeared in
the sands. Perhaps it had been made only by wild yak
and wild horses. A remarkable lowering in the level of
the lake seems to have taken place in recent years.
Well-defined banks stand up about fifteen feet from the

280

Tibet and Turkestan

general level of the sand now separating them from the
water's edge — sometimes by a distance of two miles or
more. These banks are still sharply defined, suggesting
that only a few years have passed since they were filled.
No such affluents were seen as are shown on the latest
Russian map in connection with a lake occupying nearly
the position given by my notes to this sheet of salt water.
Information concerning the lake, and concerning the
mountain system of Aksai Chin, has doubtless hereto-
fore been taken only from the reports of natives. The
error in respect to the mountains is considerable. The
dominating chain is not north and south, as heretofore
shown, but there are two east-and-west chains, generally
parallel to the Kuen Lun. The first lake and the salt
lake both lie closely ensconced in bounding hills of the
valley, which narrows at these points. Heretofore they
are shown as in open plains.

Another correction of some importance has to do with
the course of the Karakash, which has been shown here-
tofore as extending sixty miles or more farther south
than is the fact. We chanced to come into the valley of
this stream above its permanent sources, which come up
out of the sand. There was seen, indeed, a small break
in the valley wall, corresponding to the point where the
assumed southern extension appears on older maps. But
this opening was seen to have a steep incline upward,
and no water came from it. Nor can a considerable
volume come at any time, as just below this point the
valley was crossed completely, from hill to hill, by a
very curious line of small stone monuments, about two
feet apart, and consisting of small boulders piled about
a foot high.

APPENDIX B

FROM DISCUSSION OF THE PAPER BEFORE THE

ROYAL GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY, FEBRUARY

8, 1904

AFTER the reading of the paper —
Sir Thomas Holdich *: Mr. Crosby has given us
a very vivid description of the desolate nature of one of
the remote corners of Tibet up in the extreme north-west,
and he has expressed an opinion, which I think we most of
us share, that it is absolutely impossible for any large
party, any force of any size, to journey from north to
south across the wild and bleak and desolate region of
the northern half of Tibet down into the southern, which
is of a very different character — the valley of the upper
Brahmaputra. But perhaps it will be interesting to
you to know that this question as to the feasibility of
crossing the Alai Mountains was discussed four hundred
years ago just as keenly as it is discussed now. Just
about the same time that the Emperor Baber was es-
tablishing the Mongol dynasty in India, a general of
his t who was much connected with Central Asian affairs,
discussed the question as to whether it was possible to
reach Kashmir by the same route which Mr. Crosby
attempted and found impracticable. He came to the
conclusion that it was not possible, so he resorted to
the route which Mr. Crosby finally took, and crossed
the Karakoram; and he crossed, with not half a dozen

1 Former Surveyor-General of India,
23 1

282

Tibet and Turkestan

followers, but with a large force. They came down into
Rudok, and conquered that country, making it a base
for a fresh start into Lhasa, This is interesting to us
from the point of view as to whether it is possible for an
armed force to reach Lhasa from the west. The Mongols
made a good try, ami then the inevitable thing happened
— their horses died; but with only ninety men they suc-
ceeded in getting as near as Shigatse, which they reck-
oned was eight days' march from Lhasa. Then they
turned round and went back to Rudok. Another in-
teresting point is that the Tibetans, after true Tibetan
fashion, received the Mongol general with great hospi-
tality; they even assisted him to get together another force
to harry another part of their own country. Well, it was
centuries after, that the next attempt was made from
Rudok to reach Lhasa. This time it was made by Sikhs.
General Zorowar Sing, acting for Ghulab Sing, who was
Raja of Kashmir, attempted to reach Lhasa by Leh. He
came to grief exactly as Mirza Haidar had come to grief
before him — his horses gave out before he got to Lhasa,
and he beat a somewhat hasty retreat. It is curious to
observe that the fighting that was done was not done by
Tibetans, but by Ghurkas, who were sent across the
border to fight them. Thus we learn from history that the
attempt to make any military movement, at any rate from
the west, is an exceedingly difficult and perilous one.
Once again, not long after, a small and turbulent tribe
of the Himalayas, the Ghurkas (who had conquered
Nepaul), thought it was time to have a look into Tibet
itself. They made their attack directly over the passes,
and they were successful; moving very rapidly, they
succeeded in reaching Tashilumpo. They absolutely
destroyed the place, and they were inclined to settle
down there. When the authorities fled to Lhas i they sent
information to China, and asked for assistance; and then

Appendix B

followed what I really believe to be one of the most re-
markable military movements that ever was made in
the world — seventy thousand Chinese are said to have
crossed the passes from the east to get to Lhasa. From
the borders of their own country to Lhasa is a good
twelve hundred miles, and although a part of the country
is very different from that which Mr. Crosby has de-
scribed, i.e., the upper valley of the Brahmaputra and
the immediate neighbourhood of Lhasa, which is com-
paratively low, and where there is a considerable amount
of cultivation, still the greater part of the journey must
have been across most horribly difficult mountain passes,
where they must have lost multitudes of men. Never-
theless, they not only reached Lhasa, but, having got
there, they started for another four hundred miles M
route to Nepaul. They beat the Ghurkas handsomely,
first of all to the north of their own mountains, and then
followed them over their passes. The Ghurkas made
their last stand some twenty miles in front of Khatmandu,
and there the Chinese finally defeated them, and left
such a reputation behind them that to this day the
Nepaulese send deputations to China once every five
years to pay tribute. It only shows us the danger of
depreciating a possible adversary. The best fighting
met) that we know in the East are Ghurkas and Sikhs,
and yet they have been beaten all to nothing by ChJl
in times gone past. And to this day Chinese authority
over the whole of Tibet is practically as sound, I In.
agine, as ever it was. I would ask you, in conclusi
to differentiate carefully between Northern Tibet — the
Tibet which Mr. Crosby has described to-night— in. I
the true M Bodyul," which is the scene of Colonel
Younghusband's mission at the present moment. It i*
only in South-eastern Tibet, in the upper valley of the
Brahmaputra, that there really if a country which yea

284

Tibet and Turkestan

may say, rHmariraPy, is tolerably suitable for European
fife; and it it a point to iffwhri that 1 hava, the capi-
tal of Tibet, is situated — if not on die banks of the
Brahmaputra River itself— on the banks of a snail tribu-
tary of the Brahmaputra; and that it is not only the
capital of Tibet, but the religious centre of such a vast
number of people that I believe, taking them all together,
they number almost one-third of the population of the
world. Now, I have been told that during the war in
China, about one-third of China did not know that any
war was going on at all; they did not take any interest
in it. But I will venture to say that if two European
officers were to reach Lhasa, within a few months it
would be known over the whole of China whether these
officers were British or Russians.

The President % : We have listened to a most interest-
ing paper, and to an equally interesting discussion. The
great plateau of Tibet to which Mr. Crosby has alluded,
and portions of which he has visited, is, geographically
speaking, I consider, one of the most interesting portions
of the globe. He has suggested various causes for the
existence of that vast plateau, and he has described to
us the changes that have been taking place in it, I do
not believe that any army, for the invasion either of
Tibet or India, has ever crossed it. The invasions Sir
Thomas Holdich has alluded to have all gone along the
valley of the Tsanpu or from the eastward ; none have
ever passed over the lofty desert. Therefore I think in
that respect it does form a great barrier.

1 Sir Clements Markham, a distinguished traveller and student of
Central Asian questions.

APPENDIX C

LADAKHI (WESTERN TIBET) SONGS, EDITED IN CO-
OPERATION WITH KIV. s. RIBBACH AND DR.
E. SHAWE, BY II. FRANCKE, LEH, 1 899

5
6

7
8

9
10
iz
12

»3
14.

■5

The King's Garden, Lek.

Through perfect good fortune

The happiness containing garden karbio

Not being built, was completed by itself.

It is the house of the gods and the sun.

Having in the zenith of the clear sky

Sun and moon like umbrellas, so it arose.

It is a wonderfully pleasing sight.

It is like a fine room with pairs of pillars.

Within on the lion's throne

Sits a famous and strong family.

That is Cfiosrgyal Thsedpal with mother and son.

May their lotus-like feet stand 100 kalpas!

On this magnificent high nut tree

Boys and girls sing melodious songs like birds.

Underneath the youths gather

And sing a song of happiness and welfare.

2 Karbto means, "risen by ilself."

g The lion's throne points to the King's castle, which was built
in the middle of the garden.

11 The King's name means " religious king, glory of the time."

12 Kalpa, a fabulous peri«l of tunc, at least 100,000 years. Skr.

13 The royal family is compared with this high walnut tree, under
whose shelter happiness dwells., walnut trees do not grow in Lch.

285

286 Tibet and Turkestan

This song of praise was written by the Leh minister
iNgosgrub bstanadzin in the fine castle within the karbxo
garden.

The Game of Polo.

i. With an earthquake we shall shake the sky!

2. Where goes our Master ?

3. To the Polo ground in the middle of the village.

4. There goes our Master for playing Polo.

5. To the Polo ground of the village Cigtan

6. There goes our Khan for playing Polo.

7. In the uppermost part (of the Polo ground)

8. Our Master hits the ball in the air.

9. In the downmost part (of the Polo ground)

10. Our Master hits it straight through the goal.

11. There our Master brings [the ball] to please his

friends.

12. There the Master brings [the ball] to grieve the

enemies.

13. There on your high horse

14. You are like a flower in bloom.

15. There on your high black horse with white hind

feet.

15 Horses are of different value according to their colour, those
described in 15 are about the most valuable.

Pleasure of Youth.

1. The high ones (live) in high places.

2. Into all the heights of the sky

3. Besides the king of birds none flies.

4. During the three summer months, whatever can

bloom, blooms.

Appendix C 287

5. Besides the

three summer months, oh, there are no

flowers.

6. Besides this

one life-time I shall not belong to my

mother.

7. In this one

life-time, whatever can be happy, is

happy.

8. Enjoy this one life-time as ever you can enjoy it.

The Beautiful Thseringskyid,

First girl. 1.

Have you not seen my companion ?

Have you not seen my companion

Thseringskyid?

Second girl.

Your companion I do not know,

Your companion Thseringskyid I do

not know.

A girl, whose body was built as of gold

Was passing by here just now.

First girt. 2,

Have you not seen my companion ?

Have you not seen my companion

Thseringskyid t

Second girl.

Your companion I do not know,

Thseringskyid I do not know.

A girl with a mass of matted hair (full

of) turquoises

Was passing by here just now.

First girl. 3.

Have you not seen my companion ?

Have you not seen my companion

Thseringskyid t

Second girl.

Your companion I do not know,

Thseringskyid 1 do not know.

A girl, glorious like the moon on the

15th

288

Tibet and Turkestan

The whole

not to be taken seriously, the girls are

teasing each other.

First girt.

Hare yon not seen my companion ?
Have too not seen my companion
TksertMgskpdf

Second girl

Your companion I do not know,

Tkurmgskjii I do not know.

A girl with eyebrows like the O of the

(Tibetan) alphabet
Was passing by here just now.

First girl

S-

Have you not seen my companion,
Have you not seen my companion
Thserii^ikyiit

Second girl

Your companion I do not know,

TJkserixgskjrid I do not know.

A girl with teeth like curdled milk

and pearls
Was passing by here just now.

First girL

Have you not seen my companion ?
Have you not seen my companion
TTtseringskyid t

Second girL

Your companion I do not know,

Thsering&kyid I do not know.

A girl with a waist tike a monastery

bell
Was passing by here just now.

First girL

Have you not seen my companion ?
Have you not seen my companion
Thseringskyidt

Second girL

Your companion I do not know,
TAsermgs&yt'J I do not know.
A girl, who is spinning a silk thread.
Was passing by here just now.

Appendix C 289

Another

person. 8. You all belong to the shoe-maker caste,
Why did you come to my house ?

3 On the fifteenth of the Tibetan month there ought to be a full
moon.

8 This verse is either part of a different song, or it might be taken
to express : Now we have had enough of this nonsense, go away !

Secret Love.

The girl says: i. On the meadow, on the upper meadow,

2. On the upper meadow there is a flower

in bloom.

3. Hollah, my boy !

4. A flower of very fine shape is in bloom

there, my fellow !

5. Gather the flower, my boy.

6. Gather the well-shaped flower !

7. If you gather it with your hand, it will

fade.

8. Gather it with your soul and keep it

(fasten it) in your mind !

9. Gather it with your soul and keep it

in your mind !
19

APPENDIX D

From the London Times, May 34, 1903. Mr. James Bryce
at Aberdeen, May 23, 1903.

The Tibetans asked nothing better than to be let alone.
They were not fierce raiders like the Afghans. They valued
their splendid isolation. They wished, like Mr, Chamberlain,
to exclude foreign goods, and, like the Government, to ex-
clude alien immigrants except the Chinese. We had some
petty frontier disputes with them. They had been tiresome
and discourteous, refusing to send or receive envoys, Their
conduct had given material out of which those who wished
to have a quarrel could make a quarrel. But their very
weakness and ignorance rendered it possible for a great Power
to be indifferent.

The Tibetans were said to have had some communication
with the Russian Government, but the Government had de-
clared that they accepted Russia's denial, They called it a
peaceful mission and professed to believe it could have a
peaceful reception. The mission had become a war, etc.

290

APPENDIX E

Pages 6 and j of "Papers Relating to Tibet, 1004.*'

{Note Clause 11. as to control, by the Sttserain, of foreign
correspondence in a protected country. Note Clause VI. as to
reservation concerning future determination of method of com-
munication between India and Tibet. Lord Cur son did not
wait for this determination before making direct address to the
Dalai Lama.—Q. T. C.)

Convention of l8go between Great Britain and China
relating to Sikkim and Tibet,

Whereas Her Majesty the Queen of the United Kingdom of
Great Britain and Ireland. Empress of India, and His Ma-
jesty the Emperor of China, are sincerely desirous to main-
tain and perpetuate the relations of friendship and good
understanding which now exist between their respective
Empires, and whereas recent occurrences have tended
towards a disturbance of the said relations, and it is desirable
to clearly define and permanently settle certain matters con-
nected with the boundary between Sikkim and Tibet, Her
Britannic Majesty and His Majesty the Emperor of China
have resolved to conclude a Convention on this subject and
have, for this purpose, named Plenipotentiaries, that is to
say;

Her Majesty the Queen of Great Britain and Ireland, His
Excellency the Most Honourable Henry Charles Keith Petty
Fitzmaurice, G.MS. I., G.C.M.G., G.M.I.E., Marqeuss of
Lansdowne, Viceroy and Governor-General of India,

And His Majesty the Emperor of China. His Excellency
Sheng Tai. Imperial Associate Resident in Til>ci . Military
Deputy Lieutenant-Governor.

Who having met and communicated to each other their

PDl

2g2

Tibet and Turkestan

full powers, and finding these to be in proper form, have
agreed upon the following Convention in eight Articles: —

Article I.— The boundary of Sikkim and Tibet shall be
the crest of the mountain range separating the waters flowing
into the Sikkim Teesta and its affluents from the waters
Sowing into the Tibetan Mochu and I rdfl into other

rivers of Tibet. The line commences at Mount Gipmochi on
the Bhutan frontier and follows the above-mentioned water-
parting to the point where it meets Nipal territory.

II. — It is admitted that the British Government, whose
protectorate over the Sikkim State is hereby recognised., has
direct and exclusive control over the internal administration
and foreign relations of that State, and except through and
with the permission of the British Government, neither the
Ruler of the State nor any of its officers shall have official
relations of any kind, formal or informal, with any other
country.

III. — The Government of Great Britain and Ireland and
the Government of China engage reciprocally to respect the
boundary as defined tn Article I., and to prevent acts of
aggression from their respective sides of the frontier.

IV. — The question of providing increased facilities for
trade across the Sikkim'Tibet frontier will hereafter be dis-
cussed with a view to a mutually satisfactory arrangement
by the High Contracting Powers.

V. — The question of pasturage on the Sikkim side of
the frontier is reserved for further examination and future
adjustment.

VI. — The High Contracting Powers reserve for discuss
and arrangement the method in which official communica-
tions between the British authorities in India and the au-
thorities in Tibet shall be conducted.

VII. — Two Joint-Commissioners shall, within six months
from the ratification of this Convention, be appointed, one
by the British Government in India, the other by the Chinese
Resident in Tibet. The said Commissioners shall meet and
discuss the questions which by the last three preceding
Articles have been reserved.

VIII. — The present Convention shall be ratified, and the
ratifications shall be exchanged in London as soon as pos-
sible after the date of the signature thereof.

Appendix E

293

In witness whereof the respective negotiators have signed
the same and affixed thereunto the seals of their arms.

Done in quadruplicate at Calcutta this seventeenth day of
March in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred
and ninety, corresponding with the Chinese date the twenty-
seventh day of the second moon of the sixteenth year of
Kuang Hsu.

[Chinese
[seal] (Sd) LANSDOWNE. seal and

signature.]

APPENDIX F

Pages 8 and o of "Paftrs Relating to Tibet. 1904."

{Note the declaration of the British Agent that nothing short
of the complete destruction, as to British interests, of the isola-
tion desired by Tibet, would be considered as satisfactory. —
O.T.

Letter from the Government of India, in the Foreign De-
partment ', to the Right Honourable the Earl of Kim-
berley, K.G., Her Majestfs Secretary of State for
India, dated Simla, the 4th J"uly t iSftf. (Received
the 2 5 th July, 1S93.)

(Extract)

With our despatch, dated the 45th March, 1890, we had
the honour to forward copies of the Sikkim-Tibet Convention
which was signed on the 1 7th of that month, and His Excel-
lency the Viceroy's telegram of the ,31st December. 1890, in-
formed Lord Cross that Mr. A, W. Paul. C I.E.. C.S.. had
been selected for the appointment of British Commissioner
under Article VII. of the Convention, In our despatch,
dated the and November, 189a, we reported that, although
we had made numerous and important concessions to China
in the course of the ensuing negotiations, matters had come
to a dead-lock owing to the persistence of the Chinese in the
determination to entirely exclude Indian tea from Tibet. A
compromise has, however, at length been effected, and as the
reserved articles of the Convention appear now to be within
measurable distance of settlement, it will be convenient to
place before Your Lordship a sketch of what has passed since
the negotiations were opened nearly two and a half years ago.
As a first step representatives on behalf of China were ap-
pointed under the terms of the Convention by the orders of

294

Appendix F

295

His Excellency the Araban Sheng Tai, Chief Resident in
Tibet, who had signed the Convention in Calcutta; but the
leading parts in the negotiations were taken on the Chinese
side by Sheng Tai himself and by Mr. J. H. Hart, Secretary to
the Ambon. On the 16th January. 1891, Mr, Hart com-
municated to Mr. Paul an outline settlement of the reserved
articles which he suggested should be filled in in accordance
with the views of the Government of India. This outline
was worded as follows: —

First; Pasturage. — Such privileges as Tibet enjoys on the
Sikkim side of the frontier will be enjoyed by Sikkim on the
Tibet side.

Second: Communication. — Communication shall be be-
tween the Chinese Resident in Tibet and India, and shall bo
transmitted through the medium of the officer in charge of
trade in the Chumbi valley.

Third: Trade. — Place of trade or trade-mart yet to be
designated shall be opened under regulations and with tariff
yet to be arranged.

Under instruction from the Government of India, Mr.
Paul, on the 33rd February, i8gi, informed Mr. Hart that
the Government of India accepted this outline, and that,
although nothing short of free trade and free travel for all
British subjects throughout Tibet would be considered a
satisfactory solution of these questions, the Governor-General
in Council, who was desirous not to unduly press or em-
barrass the Chinese Government, was prepared to agree to
an arrangement on the lines of the following articles, namely:

Pages 22 and 23 of •'Papers Relating to Tibet. 1904."

(Note that while provision is made for correspondence with
the Chinese Imperial Resident, nothing is said as to corre-
spondence directly addressed to the Dalai Lama. Such corre-
spondence, it is plainly assumed, will not exist. The Tibetan
authorities are not parties either to these Regulations or to the
original Convention of i8qo.^-0. T C.)

Regulations regarding Trade, Communication, and Pas-
turage to be appended to the Sikkim- Tibet Convention
0/ 1890.

I. — A trade-mart shall be established at Yatung on the

Tibetan side of the frontier, and shall be open to all British

subjects for purposes of trade from the first day

Trade. of May, 1894. The Government of India shall

be free to send officers to reside at Yatung to

watch the conditions of British trade at that mart.

II. — British subjects trading at Yatung shall be at liberty
to travel freely to and fro between the frontier and Yatung,
to reside at Yatung, and to rent houses and godowns for
their own accommodation, and the storage of their goods.
The Chinese Government undertake that suitable buildings
for the above purposes shall be provided for British subjects,
and also that a special and fitting residence shall be provided
for the officer or officers appointed by the Government of
India under Regulation I. to reside at Yatung. British sub-
jects shall be at liberty to soil their goods to whomsoever they
please, to purchase native commodities in kind or in money,
to hire transport of any kind, and in general to conduct their
business transactions in conformity with local usage, and
without any vexatious restrictions. Such British subjects

306

Appendix G

297

r shall receive efficient protection for their persons and pro-
perty. At Lang-jo and Ta-chun, between the frontier and
Yatung, where rest-houses have been built by the Tilxun
authorities, British subjects can break their journey in con-
sideration of a daily rent.

III. — Import and export trade in the following Articles —
arms, ammunition, military stores, salt, liquors, and in-
toxicating or narcotic drugs,
may at the option of either Government be entirely pro-
hibited, or permitted only on such conditions as either Gov-
ernment on their own side may think fit to impose.

IV. — Goods, other than goods of the descriptions enu-
merated in Regulation III., entering Tibet from British
India, across the Sikkim-Tibet frontier, or vice versd, what-
ever their origin, shall be exempt from duty for a period of
five years commencing from the date of the opening of
Yatung to trade, but after the expiration of this term, if
found desirable, a tariff may be mutually agreed upon and
enforced,

Indian tea may be imported into Tibet at a rate of duty
not exceeding that at which Chinese tea is imported into
England, but trade in Indian tea shall not be engaged in
during the five years for which other commodities are
exempt.

V. — AD goods on arrival at Yatung, whether from British
India or from Tibet, must be reported at the Customs Station
there for examination, and the report must give full par-
ticulars of the description, quantity, and value of the goods.

VI. — In the event of trade disputes arising between British
and Chinese or Tibetan subjects in Tibet, they shall be en-
quired into and nettled in personal conference by the Political
Officer for Sikkim and the Chinese frontier officer. The
object of persona) conference being to ascertain facts and do
justice, where there in a divergence of views the law of the
country to which the defendant belongs shall guide.

VII— Despatch©* from the Government of India to the
Chinese Imperial Resident in Tibet shall be
handed over by the Political Officer for Sikkim
to the Chinese frontier officer, who will forward
them by special courier.

Despatches from the Chinese Imperial Resident in Tibet

Communica-
tion.

398 Tibet and Turkestan

to the Government of India, will be hanrtrrf over by thw Cht-
neae frontier officer to the Political Officer for . Ifchiiii . who
will forward them ae quickly as pnesihW

VIII. — Despatches between the Chinese and r»— *«— of-
ficials must be treated with due r e sp e ct , and: cumins vfl
be assisted in passing to and fro by the ameers of esscfe. Gov-
ernment.

IX. — After the expiration of one year from the date of the

opening of Yatung, such Tibetans as amtinu e to grass their

cattle in Silrtrfiw will be subject to sacs. Reguia-

PMfwas*. tions as the British Government may from thus

to time enact for the general conduct c£ graxzng

n Sikkim. Due notice win be given of 1

APPENDIX H

Pages 25, 42-3, and 52-3 of "Papers Relating to Tibet, IQ04."

(Note the admissions that (a) no practical inconvenience re-
sulted from delay in demarcation, (b) that the territory in
question is valueless to Sikkitn, (c) that there are good grounds
for supposing the contention of the Tibetans to be just. Then
note the expression "surrender of territory." — O. T. C.)

Extracts from a Letter from the Government of India, in
the Foreign Department, to the flight Honourable H.
H. Fowler, Her Majesty's Secretary of State for
India, dated Simla, the 25th June y i&qj. (Received
the 15th July, 1895-)

5. The Lieutenant-Governor of Bengal recommended
that, if the Chinese and Tibetan delegates were unable to at
once join Mr. White, he should be authorised to proceed
alone to lay down the boundary where no dispute is known
to exist. Demarcation was not, however, provided for in
the Treaty of r8oo; no serious practical inconvenience had
apparently arisen through the frontier being undemarcated,
and under all the circumstances we considered it preferable
that Mr. White should not proceed alone beyond the Doka
La. We accordingly directed that, if the Chinese delegates
failed to meet him there on or about the 1st June, he should
explain matters by letter to the Chinese Resident and return
to Gantok.

6. Mr. White subsequently reported that the pillar
erected at the Jeylap La had been demolished by Tibetans,
and that the pillar on the Donchuk La had been wilfully
damaged. The Lieutenant -Governor wished us to bring

*99

300 Tibet and Turkestan

pressure to bear on the Chinese Resident in order to secure
reparation. There is, however, at present no evidence that
the mischief is to be directly attributed to Tibetan officials,
and it is in our opinion uecessary to make allowances for the
difficulties of the Chinese Resident's position in respect to
the Tibetans.

(B)

Letter from the Government of India, in the Foreign De-
partment, to the Right Honourable Lord George F,
Hamilton^ Her Majesty's Secretary of State for India,
dated Simla, the jrd September, iSgj. (Received the
23rd September, 1S95.)

Our Despatch, dated the 25th June, i8gs t informed Her
Majesty's Government of the position of affairs on the
Sikkim-Tibet border. We have since been in further corre-
spondence with Sir Nicholas O'Conor, and on the 10th August
instructions were issued that our demarcation party should
break up and that Mr. White should return to Gantok,

S. The Chinese Resident in Tibet suggested postpone-
ment of demarcation until after five years from the date on
which the Trade Regulations attached to the Convention of
rSgo came into force. His Excellency the Viceroy has de-
clared his inability to seriously discuss such a suggestiun and
has communicated to the Chinese Resident a hope that
nothing will prevent the work being carried out amicably
next year.

(C)

Front the Viceroy to the Secretary of State for India, dated
Ijth February, iSq6.

{Telegraphic')

Please see our letter of 3rd September, 1895, and your
despatch of 6th December, 1895. There are grounds for be-
lieving that the Tibetans possess reasonable claims in the
extreme north of Sikkim to a tract of land which is excluded
from Tibet by the boundary line laid down in the Convention.
The tract in question is of no value to Sikkim. Would you

Appendix H

301

approve of my intimating our willingness to meet the Tibet-
ans' claims and of my addressing the Chinese Resident with
a proposal for a joint enquiry into them? If there are exist-
ing grievances that are capable of being removed I hope an
impetus will be given to trade.

From the Secretary of State for India to the Viceroy \ dated
2nd March, 1896.

(Telegraphic)

Your telegram of 15th February. Your proposal is ap-
proved by Her Majesty's Government, but the completion of
the demarcation [vide your letter of 3rd September) must be
made a condition of the surrender of any territory to Tibet.

APPENDIX I

Page 116 "Papers Relating to Tibet, 1004."

Despatch from Sir C, Scott to the Marquess of Lansdowne,

dated St. Petersburgh % jFuiy 4^ igoi. (Received

JuIyS.)

{Extract)

With reference to my despatch of the tst instant, I have
the honour to transmit herewith, in translation, further ex-
tracts from the Russian press referring to the arrival in
Russia of a so-called Tibetan Mission. Count Lamsdorff, in
the course of conversation with me yesterday, characterised
as ridiculous and utterly unfounded the conclusion drawn in
certain organs of the Russian press that these Tibetan
visitors were charged with any diplomatic or political mis-
sion. Count Lamsdorff said, that the Lama Akban was a
Mongolian Buriat of Russian origin, who came occasionally
to Russia with the object, he believed, of making money col-
lections for his Order from the numerous Buddhists in the
Empire. He said that on the occasion of Akban's last visit
in autumn to Yalta, the Emperor had received him, and he
himself had had an opportunity of learning some interesting
details from him of life in Tibet. The Russian Geographical
Society took an interest in his visit, which had no official
character whatever, although he was accompanied on this
visit by other Tibetans. Count Lamsdorff said that Dr
Badmeyeff, who takes a special interest in Tibet and Lama
Akban's visit, was an eccentric character, but it was difficult
to understand how the Russian press, in view of the inter-
national position of Tibet as a dependency of China, could
have attributed an official or diplomatic character to the
Lama's visit to Russia.

302

APPENDIX J
Pages 1 18 and ng of "Papers Relating to Tibet, IQ04,"

Letter from the Government of India, in the Foreign De~
partment^ to the Right Honourable Lord George F t
Hamilton, His Majesty's Secretary of State for India,
dated Simla, the 25th fuly, 1901. (Received the 1 2th
August > 1901.)

(Extract)

In despatch dated the 8th December, 1899, Your Lordship
approved of the measures which we had adopted with the
object of establishing direct communication with the Tibet-
ans. We have now the honour to forward correspondence
which shows the further action taken in the matter. When
our despatch dated the 26th October. 1899, was written, we
were awaiting the return of Ugyen Kazi, the Bhutan Vakil,
from Tibet and the outcome of a letter which he had under-
taken to deliver to the Dalai Lama. That letter having met
with an unfavourable response, we decided to defer making
any further attempt to obtain access to the Dalai Lama by
the Sikkim route, and to seek some new channel of com-
munication. Enquiries were accordingly instituted as to the
possibility of despatching a suitable emissary to the Tibetan
capital either through Yunnan, or through Nepal, or by way
of Ladakh. Our resident in Nepal, who was verbally con-
sulted, advised against any attempt being made to reach
Lhasa via Nepal, except with the knowledge and consent of
the Nepalese Darbar, to whom we were not prepared to
refer. The agent whom we suggested to the Government of
Burma as a possible emissary for the mission through Yunnan
wu reported to be unsuitable- The proposal to communi-
cate through Ladakh, however, seemed to offer some prospect

303

304

Tibet and Turkestan

of success. The plan suggested by our Resident in Kashmir
was that the Assistant Resident who annually visits Leh
should enter into negotiations with the Joint Governors of
Western Tibet, known as the Urkhus of Gartok. by whose
agency it was hoped that communication with the chief au-
thorities at Lhasa might be secured. Upon this suggestion
we authorised Captain Kennion to visit Gartok in the autumn
of iqoo. He was entrusted with a letter addressed by the
Viceroy to the Dalai Lama, and was instructed to hand it
over to the Urkhus, should there appear to be a reasonable
prospect that it would be forwarded to its destination. The
letter was delivered to the Chaktar Urkhu, who undertook to
transmit it to the Dalai Lama. After a delay of six months,
the letter was returned to Captain Kennion with the intima-
tion that the Urkhus had not dared, in the face of the regula-
tions against the intrusion of foreigners into Tibet, to send it
to Lhasa. This enterprise having failed, we determined to
make one more effort to procure the delivery of a letter to the
Dalai Lama through Ugyen Kazi. A favourable oppor-
tunity was presented by the fact that he had recently pur-
chased two elephants on commission for the Dalai Lama,
and could, therefore, proceed to Lhasa without exciting sus-
picion. We have accordingly entrusted Ugyen Kazi with a
second letter addressed by the Viceroy to the Dalai Lama, in
which stress is laid upon the forbearance shown by the
British Government in their relations with Tibet, and a
warning is conveyed that, if the overtures which we have
made with a view to establishing friendly intercourse are
still treated with indifference, we reserve the right to take
such steps as may seem necessary and proper to enforce the
terms of the Treaty of 1890, and to ensure that the trade
regulations are observed. Should this letter meet with the
fate of its predecessor, we contemplate, subject to the ap-
proval of His Majesty's Government, the adoption of more
practical measures with a view to securing the commercial
and political facilities, which our friendly representations
will have failed to procure. As to the exact form which our
altered policy should assume, we shall, if necessary, address
Your Lordship at a later date. But we may add, that before
long, steps may require to be taken for the adequate safe-
guarding of British interests upon a part of the frontier where

Appendix J 305

they have never hitherto been impugned. We trust that our
proceedings, as indicated in the correspondence forwarded
with this despatch, will meet with the approval of His
Majesty's Government.

From the Viceroy to the Secretary of State for India, dated
2gth October , igoi.

(Telegraphic)

Your despatch of 16th August. Ugyen Kazi, who has re-
turned from Lhasa, reports that my letter was delivered by
him to the Dalai Lama, but that the latter declined to reply
to it, stating, as his reason, that the matter was not one for
him to settle, but must be discussed fully in Council with the
Amban, the Ministers and the Lamas; and further that he
was afraid that Ugyen Kazi might be killed were it to become
known that an answer had been given to him.

From the Viceroy to the Secretary of State for India, dated
3rd November y igoi.

(Telegraphic)

My telegram of 29th October. My letter has been brought
back by Ugyen Kazi with the seal intact. Ugyen Kazi re-
ports that the Dalai Lama refused to accept it, stating, as his
reason for so refusing, that he was bound by agreement not
to enter into any correspondence with Foreign Governments
without consulting the Chinese Ambans and the Council.

J.-LL3L

jZs

-= *si

=i-T ae jt ^

■2ft! 3S tif.

APPENDIX L

Pages 151-156 and (B) 193 of "Papers Relating to Tibet, 1904."

(The long and energetic letter of Lord Curson, from which
extracts arc here given, may fairly be considered as the official
basis for the attack upon Tibet, It is verbose, but it cries
" Forward f" so insistently that the weary Indian Office in
London finally echoes "Forward/" — a Utile weakly, yet loudly
enough to satisfy the strenuous Viceroy. His enthusiasm
makes him swallow secret treaties and Russian arms in Lhasa.
—O. T. C.)

(A)

Extracts from a Letter from the Government of India , in
the Foreign Department, to the Right Honourable
Lord George F. Hamilton, His Majesty's Secretary
of State for India,, dated Camp Delhi, the 8th Janu~
ary t iqoj. ( Received the 24th January, IQOJ.)

In a despatch, dated nth April, 1902. Your Lordship
agreed to our proposal for the employment of Mr. White, and
you forwarded to us copy of a letter from the Foreign Office
dated March a 6th, in which the Marquess of Lansdowne ex-
pressed his concurrence with us in believing that further
negotiations on the subject of our relations with Tibet with
the Chinese Government would not be likely to lead to any
satisfactory result, and that it would be necessary to resort
to local action in order to vindicate British rights under the
Convention of 1S90. Mr. White conducted his Mission dur-
ing the past summer with expedition and success. In a
despatch, dated roth July. 1902. we explained to Your
Lordship the revised instructions which we issued to him
before starting and which he duly observed; and we now

307

3o8

Tibet and Turkestan

have the honour to forward the correspondence contained in
the attached list, showing the results of his tour. The
Tibetans who were in occupation of the Giaogong pl.T
were directed by Mr. White to withdraw beyond the frontier,
and our right to insist upon the observance of the boundary
laid down by the Convention of 1890 was clearly asserted.
We have since learned from Mr, White that the grazing
rights on the Sikkim side of the border which had been
usurped by the Tibetans are, in fact, balanced by similar
rights which are conceded to the Sikkimese across the
Tibetan border, and that the status quo is probably the
most convenient arrangement in the interest of both parties

and it is probable that the chief advantage derived from Mr.
White's mission up to the present time consists in the fear
inspired among the Tibetans that it is the prelude to some
further movement — an advantage which would be wholly
sacrificed when the discovery was made that no such conse-
quence was likely to ensue. If, therefore, we now ester upon
negotiations with no other vantage ground than the success-
ful reassertion of our authority on a very inconspicuous sec-
tion of the border, it does not appear that there is much reason
for anticipating a more favourable solution of the Tibetan
problem than has attended our previous efforts, unless in-
deed, we are prepared to assume a minatory tone and to
threaten Tibet with further advance if the political and
commercial relations between us are allowed any longer to
be reduced to a nullity by her policy of obstinate inaction.
The second combination of circumstances that has materially
affected the situation is the rumoured conclusion of a Secret
Agreement by which the Russian Government has acquired
certain powers of interference in Tibet. We have ours<J
reported to Your Lordship circumstantial evidence derived
from a variety of quarters all pointing in the same direction
and tending to show the existence of an arrangement of some
sort between Russia and Tibet. . . . It is unnecessary
for us to remind Your Lordship that the Russian border no-
where even touches that of Tibet, and that the nearest point
of Russian territory is considerably more than a thousand
miles short of the Tibetan capital, which is situated in the

Appendix L

309

extreme south, and in close proximity to the northern
frontier of the Indian Empire. Neither need we point to the
historical fact that no other States or Powers have, during
the time that the British dominion has been established in
India, had any connection with Tibet, but, firstly. China who
possesses a nominal suzerainty over the country, secondly,
Nepal, a State in close political connection with India, and,
thirdly, the British Government itself. The policy of ex-
clusiveness to which the Tibetan Government has during the
last century Income increasingly addicted has only been
tolerated by us, because anomalous and unfriendly as it has
been, it carried with it no element of political or military
danger. At no time during that century do we imagine that
Great Britain would have permitted the creation of a rival
or hostile influence in a position so close to the Indian border
and so pregnant with possibilities of mischief. We are of
opinion that the only way in which to counteract the danger
by which we regard British interests as directly threatened in
Tibet, is to assume the initiative ourselves, and we regard the
Chinese proposals for a conference as affording an excellent
opportunity for pressing forward and carrying out this
policy. We are in favour, subject to a qualification that we
shall presently mention, of accepting the Chinese proposals,
but of attaching to them the condition that the conference
shall take place not upon our frontier, but at Lhasa, and that
it shall be attended by a representative of the Tibetan Gov-
ernment, who shall participate in the proceedings. In this way
alone does it appear to us that we shall escape the ignominious
position of having an Agreement which has been formally
concluded with the Chinese subsequently repudiated by the
Tibetans; and in no other way do we regard it as in the
least likely that the wall of Tibetan impassivity and ob-
struction will be broken down. We might find many prece-
dents in the history of India for missions with a not
altogether dissimilar object. ... In view of the contin-
gency of opposition, we think that the mission, if decided
upon, should be accompanied by an armed escort, sufficient
to overawe any opposition that might be encountered on the
way, and to ensure its safety while in Lhasa. The military
strength of the Tibetans is beneath contempt, and serious
resistance is not to be contemplated. It would, however, be

Tibet and Turkestan

to nm njnik. for reports have ranched us that an

to drill the Tibetan troops at Lhasa.

that breaeh-feadcfs and other laa nn irai a of war have

•ecretly imported ttto the rexefsl At

of aa cxckxsrreiy < « ■ ii mnii al ch a racfrr . that we re-
rfrfeiert «1 designs of a pnhriral nature upon Tibet, that we
bad no desire cither to declare a Protectorate or permanently
to occ up y any portion of the c o untr y, bat that our intentions
were confined to removing the will m go that at |siJt>iit rests
span al trade b e t e ecu Tibet and India, and to establishing
those 'WK*^ relations and means of communication which
ought to subsist between adjacent and friendly Powers.

(B)

From the Secretary of State fir India to the Viceroy, dated
May *8 y 1903.

{Telegraphic)

Your proposals of the 7th and a 1st May regarding Tibet
have been considered with great care by His Majesty's Gov-
ernment. They agree with you in desiring the promotion of
trade facilities in Tibet, and a guarantee that the Tibetans
shall be prevented from evading or rejecting engagements
made on their behalf in any new treaty or convention. A
procedure, therefore, whereby both the Chinese and Tibetan
Governments will be bound by the acts of their representa-
tives has their approval. They wish, however, that the
negotiations should be restricted to questions concerning
trade relations, the frontier, and grazing rights; and they
desire that no proposal should be made for the establishment
of a Political Agent either at Gyangtse or at Lhasa. Such a
political outpost might entail difficulties and responsibilities
incommensurate, in the judgment of His Majesty's Govern-
ment, with any benefits which, in the circumstances now
known to exist, could be gained by it. The Foreign Office
have recently received assurances that Russia has no in-
tention of developing political interests in Tibet. Moreover.

Appendix L

311

His Majesty's Government are unwilling to be committed,
by threats accompanying the proposals which may be made
to any definite course of compulsion to be undertaken in the
future. They authorise you, then, subject to the conditions
above stated, to communicate with the Chinese Resident
and Tibetan representative, fixing Khamba Jong as the
place of meeting. They also request that the purport and
progress of the negotiations, as they proceed, may be com-
municated to them from time to time.

APPENDIX M

Page 187 of "Papers Relating to Tibet, 1904."

Despatch from the Marquess of Lansdowne to Sir C. Scott \
dated April S, ipoj.

(Extract)

The Russian Ambassador informed me to-day that he had
received from Count Lamsdorff a reply to the communica-
tion which he had made to him after his conversation with
me on the 24th ultimo. Count Lamsdorff s letter had been
despatched from St. Petersburgh before he could receive the
further despatch which Count Benckendorff had addressed
to him after our conversation on the 1st instant. Count
Benckendorff was now able to assure me officially that there
was no Convention about Tibet, either with Tibet itself or
with China, or with anyone else, nor had the Russian Govern-
ment any Agents in that country, or any intention of sending
Agents or Missions there. Count Lamsdorff had even ex-
pressed some surprise that Count Benckendorff had not taken
upon himself to give an immediate contradiction to these
reports. He was, indeed, astonished that they should re-
ceive so much credence by His Majesty's Government.
Count Benckendorff went on to say that although the Rus-
sian Government had no designs whatever upon Tibet, they
could not remain indifferent to any serious disturbance of
the status quo in that country. Such a disturbance might
render it necessary for them to safeguard their interests in
Asia, not that, even in this case, they would desire to inter-
fere in the affairs of Tibet, as their policy "ne viserait le
Thibet en aucun cas," but they might be obliged to take
measures elsewhere. They regarded Tibet as forming a
part of the Chinese Empire, in the integrity of which they

312

Appendix M

took an interest. His Excellency went on to say that he
hoped that there was no question of any action on our part
in regard to Tibet which might have the effect of raising
questions of this kind, I told His Excellency that we had no
idea of annexing the country, but he was well aware that it
immediately adjoined our frontier, that we had Treaties
with the Tibetans, and a right to trade facilities, If these
were denied to us, and if the Tibetans did not fulfil their
Treaty obligations, it would be absolutely necessary that we
should insist upon our rights. His Excellency signified ab-
sent. I added that it seemed to me that in cases of this
kind, where an uncivilised country adjoined the possessions
of a civilised Power, it was inevitable that the latter should
exercise a certain amount of local predominance. Such ;i
predominance, as I had before explained to him, belonged to
us in Tibet. But it did not follow from this that we had any
designs upon the independence of the country.

(While both these despatches cover the same incident, it itemed
best to preserve, not only the concise detail of facts given by
General Macdonald, but also the philosophic generalisation of
Lord Cur ton. His unconscious effrontery even in talking
about a weak people — not to them — would be humourous were
it not painful. The italics are not in the original print. —
O. T. C.)

From the Viceroy to the Secretary of State for India, dated
the 1st April, 1904.

(Telegraphic)

Younghusband telegraphs, 011 the 31st March, to following
effect: "Some resistance was offered at Guru, but we have
occupied the village, and will establish there an advance
supply depot, the force returning here in the evening. Our
casualties consisted of only a few wounded, of whom only
Candler, the correspondent of the Daily Mail, is severely
hint; we have none killed. The losses of the Tibetans
amount to 300 or more killed and many wounded and pris-
oners. Amongst the killed are the Lhasa General and an-
other General. The scene of the fighting was a post, which
had been recently constructed by them actually on the road;
they were surrounded to such a degree that our men were
pointing their rifles into the camp over the walls. No vio-
lence was used by our men who showed very great self-
restraint ; O'Conor told the Lhasa General that, if his men
would surrender their arms, they would be permitted to
retire. This, however, had no effect, and General Mac-
donald then ordered our men to begin disarming the Tibetans,
who resisted and attacked our troops with swords and with

Appendix O

3i5

firing. We then returned the fire. This result was wholly
caused by the complete inability of the Tibetans, even when our
troops absolutely surrounded them, to take in the seriousness of
tit* situation."

From the Viceroy to the Secretary of State for India, dated
the 1st April, 1904.

{Telegraphic)

Following telegram received from Macdonald:
"Thuna, 31st March. I moved to Guru this morning to
establish a supply depot at that place, taking the following
force with me: Two guns. No. 7 Mounted Battery, two 7-
pounders 8th Gurkhas, one-and-a-half companies Mounted
Infantry, three companies 23rd Pioneers, four companies
32nd Pioneers, two companies 8th Gurkhas, machine gun
Norfolks, and section Field Hospital. We moved out of
Thuna at 8 a.m., the ground being covered with snow, about
two inches of which fell last night. Colonel Younghusband
accompanied me. When we had moved about four miles
across the plain we were met by a deputation of Tibetan
leaders, who demanded our retiring to Yatung, and threat-
ened trouble if we advanced. Colonel Younghusband re-
plied that we would proceed to Guru, and asked if they were
prepared to oppose us, to which no definite answer was given ;
Colonel Younghusband accordingly asked me to refrain from
firing till fired at. A large number of armed Tibetans, esti-
mated at about 2,000, were observed on a hill jutting out
into the plain some four miles short of Guru, where they
occupied sangars and a high wall commanding the road. I
advanced in attack formation, shouldering the Tibetans off
the hill, and outflanking them on the plains, without firing,
the troops exercising the greatest restraint. The result was
that 1,500 Tibetan troops collected behind the high wall,
blocking the road, and refusing to budge. They were in-
formed that they would have to lay down their arms, and an
attempt was accordingly made to disarm them, a portion of
the reserve being moved up for the purpose. The Lhasa
leaders then incited an attack upon us, the- Lhasa Depon
firing the first shot and the Tibetans firing point-blank and

Tibet and Turkestan

charging with swords: they were, however, so hemmed in
that they could not make use of their numbers, and after a
few minutes were in full retreat under a heavy fire of guns,
Maxims and rifles, which caused them heavy loss. The and
Mounted Infantry were despatched in pursuit, and the
balance of the troops reforming pushed on to Guru. The
two eastern Guru villages were evacuated, but the west cm
one was held, and, after being shelled, was taken by the and
Mounted Infantry and Gurkhas, the garrison surrendering
This ended the engagement, except that the ist Mounted
Infantry continued the pursuit for some miles further. Our
casualties are — Major Wallace Dunlop slightly wounded;
Mr. Candler* ' Daily Mail ' correspondent, severely wounded,
and seven sepoys wounded. The enemy's loss is nearly 500
killed and wounded, and aoo prisoners, all their camp and
baggage, about 60 yaks and 30 mules, with a gingalls and a
large number of matchlocks and swords, together with a few
breechloaders, two of which were of Russian make. Amongst
the Tibetans killed was the chief Lhasa Depon and the Lama
representative of the Gaden Monastery; also one Shigatse
Depon, whilst the Phari Depon was captured, severely
wounded. Two companies 32nd Pioneers and the and
Mounted Infantry arc established at Guru, as an advanced
post, the remaining troops returning to Tuna by 7 p,U., after
a long and trying day, having marched j 1 miles and fought
two engagements. Fuller details follow. Writing report.
All Tibetan wounded have been brought in, and are being
attended to."

APPENDIX ?

Despatch tf ' m ctrraptmte* 2* &e ftbd

From the Locdcc Ts*«r JCi-r jr ryt^ *-a*er ■!**•*
April 22nd. — The TzbKara -fsHszzrx xarrn^wn w». -,*><*»«
The small boy pxsspt r £ 'j& rasrvr tc*x v"ui*» i#* ts* -*^?
having a ride, and, ssepgsf iai kc$ V,-»t -rrit u» f*e*A
hands in front of has faos. •Zzrsvx ■*£. ssuc ngxs ia*yt vwr. Jt
householder smiles, {rres ri'. =u*iu* 'JL vjs^se srnt £>*i* *
Napoleonic salute as *t ;a*l

3»7

APPENDIX Q

Pag* go (et seq.), " Further Papers Relating to Tibet, 1905"

Convention between Great Britain and Tibet.

Whereas doubts and difficulties have arisen as to the
meaning and validity of the Anglo-Chinese Convention of
1890 and the Trade Regulations of 1895, and as to the lia-
bilities of the Tibetan Government under these agreements;
and whereas recent occurrences have tended towards a dis-
turbance of the relations of friendship and good understand-
ing which have existed between the British Government and
the Government of Tibet; and whereas it is desirable to
restore peace and amicable relations, and to resolve and deter-
mine the doubts and difficulties aforesaid, the said Govern-
ments have resolved to conclude a Convention with these
objects, and the following articles have been agreed upon by
Colonel F. E. Younghusband, C. I. E., in virtue of full powers
vested in him by His Britannic Majesty's Government and on
behalf of that Government, and Lo-Sang, Gyal-Tsen, the
Ga-den Ti-Rimpoche, and the representatives of the Council,
of the three monasteries Se-ra, Dre-pung, and Ga-den, and of
the ecclesiastical and lay officials of the National Assembly on
behalf of the Government of Tibet.

The Government of Tibet engages to respect the Anglo-
Chinese Convention of 1890 and to recognise the frontier
between Sikkim and Tibet, as denned in Article I. of the said
Convention, and to erect boundary pillars accordingly.

The Tibetan Government undertakes to open forthwith
trade marts to which all British and Tibetan subjects shall

318

Appeals Q 319

have free right c£ acse» n ^y inyar m Gssnai: . jk -wel *j
at Yatung.

The Reg^tkos ccuo.se n -rat Tank sasr ar T «aa£
under the Asg&Gsaot ip-sareir- of =*:;; satl *=^«er t,
m ch amerxhzeca is aaay asMesar t#t *£-^=c sn =r &&■
mon coeaeg; herwes. tie ?rr.ig «csi Thieac arn ta t— s .
apply to the =ara alxfft xtertrret.

In addhfen t.t «u.":asaraf rase =arr et t^c ^atj- ^ex-
tioned, the TZueac 5n*- g=s e g r =aerta*— v. c^x at -a-
stricti^cs :- the trait **■ ~=et=£ ta-aa aci r S3nc«> -r>-
questios cL csta toKTrr if ±tsl -=m* sects tssar « — "a- .~r_
ditions if dgTfcbcges^ 3 ^rast »ss5 n

The qaeracc :* ^e s=*ez.c=erT rf •=* r-eesJirasa -
1893 k reserred *te swerar.* ssaKflessi* =cc — * ""^jZ
Govenznert ?=ds-2X£s v. vyyzzr. zzZ- izrz.-—^ '-.
gates to aegedate -»r± reisers.— « - -j> i-7~I ^T

erament as tc the aeuais :r tie «=e=c=*r-^ -—— 2!1

The TTbetar Gorgaag
any load '.-.her thar those jsvxtai
agreed spoc - — - *

The Tibetan Gcrgsagr ^-'>—i^ - -
Gyangtse azd tec* 5-e ;« 1*.^ /^^ ^ -*"« "

tkm and ht a rate tt rec&r as**** - ■=-- " " k " J *"" *'*

and to estabesh v. "ivxz^. >v:y.^ ' - - •, J . * "'*'*
each of the other VKi* trAr-.; •'--• —... ***""■" • - * .-
liahed. a T-betaz A*~- t*-x ^ w.'.T*'. * ' '"""

Agent *ppfe*ed » -r?vr. '«>r >• _„ "* '*

question acy letter -vfsri: -.^i--"^ "^'.. ?! f * ' ' ' ' ""
Tibetan cr % ^ •>„...»► W ^J "~ f ""
shaH also be resc«SL-.i« f v . h- , ...^ v " " ^ —
nmnkati»a^5«the-flbu»r.i a «. r ,*'.*, "

JU an mdemnit? % -h*. .VitUk V

pense mcarred m the 1***wy&

320 Tibet and Turkestan

exact reparation for breaches of treaty obligations, and for
the insults offered to and attacks upon the British Comrnii-
sioner and his following and escort, the Tibetan Government
engages to pay a sum of pounds, five hundred thousand —
equivalent to rupees seventy-five lakhs — to the British
Government.

The indemnity shall be payable at such place as the Brit-
ish Government may, from time to time, after due notice,
indicate, whether in Tibet or in the British districts of Dar*
jeeling or Jalpaiguri, in seventy-five annual instalments of
rupees, one lakh each on the ist January in each year, begin-
ning from the ist January. 1906,

VII

As security for the payment of the above-mentioned in-
demnity, and for the fulfilment of the provisions relative to
trade marts specified in Articles II, III, IV, and V, the
British Government shall continue to occupy the Chumbi
Valley until the indemnity has been paid and until the trade
marts have been effectively opened for three years, which-
ever date may be the later.

VIII

The Tibetan Government agrees to raze all forts and
fortifications and remove all armaments which might impede
the free communication between the British frontier and the
towns of Gyangtse and Lhasa.

The Government of Tibet engages that, without the pre-
vious consent of the British Government, —

(a) No portion of Tibetan territory shall be ceded, sold,

leased , mortgaged, or otherwise given for occupation,
to any Foreign Power ;

(b) No such Power shall be permitted to intervene in

Tibetan affairs;

shall be admitted to Tibet;

(d) No concessions for railways, roads, telegraphs, mining

or other rights, shall be granted to any Foreign

No Tibetan revenues, whether in kind or in cash, shall
be pledged or assigned to any Foreign Power, or the
subject of any Foreign Power.

In witness whereof the negotiators have signed the same,
and affixed thereunto the seal of their arms.

Done in duplicate at Lhasa, this 7th day of September in
the year of our Lord one thousand nine hundred and four,
corresponding with the Tibetan date, the 27th day of the
seventh month of the Wood Dragon year.

[The seats of the Tibetan Commission (British), of the Coun-
cil (Tibetan), of the Dalai Lama (applied by the Ga-den Ti-
Rimpoche), of the Dre-pung, Se-ra, and Ga-den monasteries, and
of the National Assembly are then affixed, and the signature of
F. £. Younghusband, Colonel, British Commisioner, also
appears— Q. T. C]

In proceeding to the signature of the Convention, dated
this day, the representatives of Great Britain and Tibet de-
clare that the English text shall be binding.

(Seals as above repeated. — O. T. C.)

This Convention was ratified by the Viceroy and Governor-
General of India in Council at Simla on the 1 r th day of No-
vember, A.D., one thousand nine hundred and four.
(Signed) S. M. FRASER,

Secretary to the Government of India,
Foreign Department.

APPENDIX R

Declarations signed by His Excellency the Viceroy and the
Governor-General of India, and appended to the
Ratified Convention of jth of September, 1904.

His Excellency the Viceroy and Governor-General of India,
having ratified the convention which was concluded at Lhasa
on the 7th of September, 1904, by Colonel Younghusband ,
C. I, E,, British Commissioner for Tibet frontier matters, on
behalf of His Britannic Majesty's Government, and by Lo-
Sang, Gyal-Tsen, the Ga-den, Ti-Rimpoche, and the repre-
sentatives of the Council of the monasteries, Se-ra, Dre-pung,
and Ga-den, and of the Government of Tibet, is pleased to
direct as an act of grace that the sum of money which the
Tibetan Government have bound themselves, under the
terms of Article 6 of the said convention, to pay to his
Majesty's Government as an indemnity for the expenses in-
curred by the latter in connection with the dispatch of armed
forces to Lhasa, be reduced from Rs. 7,500,000 to Rs. 2,500,-
ooo, and to declare that the British occupation of Chumbi
Valley shall cease, after the payment of three annual install-
ments of said indemnity, as fixed by the said Article. Pro-
vided, however, that the trade marts, as stipulated in Article
a of the convention, shall have been effectively opened for
three years, as provided in Article 6 of the convention, and
that in the meantime the Tibetans shall have faithfully com-
plied with the term of the said Convention in all other
respects.

3*3

APPENDIX S
No. 193

Despatch from the Secretary of State for India to the
Government of India, December 2nd, JpOj.

[Note the inconsistency between tlte declaration concerning
isolation, and the insistence upon trade relations, an insistence
for which London is equally responsible with Calcutta,—'
O. T, C.)

Section 6. The object of that policy, as stated in Lord
George Hamilton's despatch of the 37th of February, 1903,
was that British influence should be recognised at Lhasa in
such manner as to exclude that of any other power; and that
Tibet should remain in that state of isolation from which,
until recently, she bad shown no intention to depart, and
which has hitherto caused her presence on our frontier to be
a matter of indifference to us. We have intended effecting
this result not by establishing a Resident at Lhasa but by
obtaining the consent of the Tibetan Government to a con-
vention by which they undertook not to receive the agent of
any foreign power, nor to grant concessions or assignments of
revenue to the subject of any foreign power without the pre-
vious consent of the British Government.

P<*g* 35 " Further Papers Relating to Tibet, 10.05."

Extract from a Letter from the Government of India to

the Secretary of State for India, dated Sim/a,

the joth June, 1904.

If on this occasion also, after protracted discussions and
costly military operations in Tibetan territory, we retire,
leaving no visible sign of our authority within their borders,
and are content to secure a Convention which like its prede-
oessors may be rendered nugatory by the non-existence of
practical guarantee?, then we shall only find ourselves, .<
heavy outlay, in a worse position thun before, and the Tibe
ans will believe more firmly than ever that our fail*
gain our ends is due to inability to forcp submit*

3»3

APPENDIX T

Page 483 'The Opening of Tibet," London.

In the hands of the three monasteries, therefore, lies all
the power at this moment, and their bitter hostility to
foreign influence of any kind is the strongest guarantee we
have that no further philanderings with Russia will be al-
lowed to go on. This, after all, is our chief aim. All other
considerations are of insignificant importance, and we are
willing on our part to co-operate with the Tibetans on our
side of the frontier to keep unauthorised persons from visiting
Tibet, provided, of course, that an equally strict isolation is
enforced on all other frontiers.

We have not made ourselves beloved by the Lamaic hier-
archy, but their grudging respect we have won, and that for
an understanding with an Eastern oligarchy is a better basis
than love.

3*4

■:■

INDEX

Abyssinia, troubles of author
in, due to gold, 68

Achbar, limitations of, as in-
terpreter, 3j ; value of his
(typical) commerce, 53

Afghanistan, compared with
Turkestan, 8; importance
of, to British interests,

Africa, troubles of author in,
with guides, 74

Aksai Chin Desert, entrance
into and character of, Sa ;
erroneous data concern-
ing, found in maps. 280

Aksakol of Yarkand, line-
character of. 116

Alexander, north-eastern lim-
it to march of, 10; influ-
ence of, in Turkestan, 264

Amou Daria. change in
course of, 5

Andijan. character of people,
9; destruction of, by earth-
quake, ar

Anginicur, Capt. Fernanil.
meeting of author with, 2 ;
compared to Russian offi-
cer, 4; suffers from fever,
91; suffers from phlebitis,
97; opinion of, concer
Hebrew prophets,

Architecture in Tibet, how de-
veloped, 178

Aryan influence in T
Basin, 26 a

Asia, Central, impending
angesin, 1 ; effect of irri-
gation upon, 10; general

description of, 141; cities

of, 14C

Asia, polygamy in, not with-
out sentiment, 13; degen-
erate and manly types in,
1 18

Baba Hatun, led away from,

by guide, 74
Balti, representatives of,

seen in Himalayas, 115;

attack by, upon Ladak,

193

Bhutan, plea for, by Pant-
chen Lama, aoo; troubles
of. in 1863, 307

Bibi Khanim, monument to,
at Samarcand, ia

Bible, how it came to Camp
Purgatory, 99

Births, rate of male to female,
in Tibet. 152

Bodisats, character of, 173

Bogle, Mr., sent to Tibet by
Warren Hastings. 201

Bokhara, residence of Rus-
sian adviser to Emir,
5; bazaars in, described,
6; Emir of, his political
situation, 7; songs of Boy-
Bayaderes in, 117; Mo-
hammnl.tM nii.s>iuns from,
to Kashgar, 370

Books, aba nt of, 93

IB, images found Jn,

Briii of, for

335

3^6

Index

British policy, author's sum-
mary of, as relating to
Tibet, 254; official state-
ment of, 323

British, withdrawal of, from
Tibet, 257

Bryce, James, remarks of,
concerning Tibet, 290

Buddha, statue of, at Ladak
Leh, 128; statue of, carved
in living rock, 133; certain
of his dogmas compared
with those of Christ, 168;
non-militant character of
his religion, 1 70 ; where his
creed is now found, 171;
reported persecution of
Buddhism in Tibet, 192;
doctrines of, reach China
through Turkestan, 266

Camel, deceptive appear-
ance of, as transport, 180

Caravan comparea to rail-
way, 181

China, present weakness and
possible strength of, 40;
attack upon, by Tibetans,
190; treaty with Tibetans,
191; beginning of present
Tibetan suzerainty, 193;
definite triumph of, in
Tibet, 197; relations with
Great Britain concerning
Tibet, 211; her power in
Tibet threatened by recent
events, 232, 237; her pres-
tige shaken in Central Asia,
241; may slowly awaken
Tibet, 253

Chortens, numbers of, in
Tibet, 121

Chumbi Valley, occupation
of. 258

Christ, life of, considered, 100

Christianity known in China
in seventh century, 267

Chronometer, loss of, 75

Convention, between China
and Great Britain, 1890,
text of, 291 et seq.; regula-
tions affecting the preced-
ing, 296

Correspondence, suggestion
as to method of, 294 ; with
Tibet, report from Cal-
cutta on, 303

Corruption, official, in Amer-
ica and Asia compared, 162

Crows, Achbar's description
of, 103

Curzon, Lord, his statement
concerning mission to Ti-
bet > 3°7I expresses con-
tempt for military strength
of Tibet, 309; declares
against occupation of Ti-
betan territory, 310; re-
ports on battle of Guru,
314; Act of Grace pub-
lished by, 322; objects to
retirement of British from
Tibet, 323

Czar, Tibetan gifts to, arouse
British suspicions, 238

Dak-bungalow, how used in
Himalayas, 131

Dalai Lama, his relation
to Pantchen Lama, 172;
chosen when a babe, 174;
first use of that term,
195; probable return of,
to Lhasa, 239

Darius, effort by, to conquer
Turkestan, 263

Demarcation of frontier, not
specifically provided for,
299

Desgodins, Abbe, his criti-
cisms of Tibetans, 208

Desidiri, Father, his stay in
Lhasa, 197

Discord probably estab-
lished by British in Tibet,
241

Index

327

Dorjief, mission of, to St,
Petersburg, 302 ; report on,
by Sir C. Scott, 303 ; fur-
ther report on, by Sir C,
Scott, 306

East India Company, its ap-
pearance in Tibetan af-
fairs, 200

Eglantine, wide distribution
of, 120

Emanations, sources of, 169

Family, solidarity of, in
Tibet, 154

Fanni, reported move of, to
Tibet. 185

Fire, materials for, on pla-
teau. 88

Food, small supply of, in
Camp Purgatory, 102

Force, physical, European
faith in, 24a

Foreign Office, answer of. to
Lord Curson's proposals,

3«o

French travellers compared
to Russians, 4

Frontier, Indian, British pol-
icy concerning, 221

Frontier, Tibetan, trouble
about, after 1890, 231

Galdan Monastery, power of,

Geological notes, various, 274
ct sea.

Gold, found near Polu, 68;
troubles from, in Abys-
sinia. 68

Goorkhas, attack by, upon
Tibet. 198; defeated by
Chinese. 283

Grain, loss of, in ascending
plateau. 71

Grenard, M., quotation from,

'75
Guide, tied to Mir Mullah's

leg. 74; desertion of, 75
Guru, massacre of Tibetans

at, 236
Gyamtso, his remarkable

career, 197

Hadji, or Pilgrims, their
hardships, 117; their
mourning for Ali, 133

Hastings, Warren, sends mis-
sion to Tibet, 201

Hedin, Sven, discovery of
ruins by, 60

Hendricks, Father, his char-
acter, 45; our separation
from, 65

Hindoo merchants, position
of, in Turkestan. 40; offer
of tribute money by, 54;
their traffic over the Him-
alayas, 115

Hoerule, Prof., reading of
ancient MS. by, 63

Holdich, Sir Thomas, com-
ments of, On author s
paper, 281

Horses, sufferings of, on
plateau. 81, 84. 104; tracks
of wild. seen. 88

Hostilities, British report on
beginning of. 236

Hue, Father, his visit to and
expulsion from Lhasa,
202—204

Hucng-nu, movements of, in
Turkestan, 263

Indemnity, a step toward
occupation, 235*. dimin-
ution of, 257

India, history of, affected by
irrigation, 10; movement
from, into Tibet,
ish policy in, as affecting
Tibet. 218

SI*

Index

Indian Ocean, watershed of,

95
Interpretation, difficulty of,

a 9
Irrigation, its effect upon
human society, 8, 9

Jenghir Kbon. operations of ,

in Turkestan, ijo
Joseph, the interpreter,

sketch of, 3

Karakoram Pass, its elva-
tion and skeletons there,

Kardung Pass, its elevation
and glaciers, 125

Kashgar. general character
of people, 0; approaches
to, 30; present govern-
ment of. 36

Kashgaria, early attack upon,
by Tibetans. *68

Kashmir, Maharajah of. rules
Ladak, 122; Vale of, its
beauty. 136

Kharma. meaning of, 173

Khilkoff, Prince, furnishes
private car. 2

Khotan, general character of
people, 9; march to. from
Yarkand, 51; its rugs and
women, 55 ; our entrance
into, 56; author first Amer-
ican in, 58; prices of mer-
chandise in, 50; an early
seat of civilisation. 260 '

Kiang tribes, in early Tibetan
history, 185

Kirghiz, character of, 9; usu-
ally monogamous, 2 6; re-
tirement of from pasture,
27 : prompt aid given us by.
105; their possessions and
characteristics, no. irt

Kizil Zu, passage of, on
camels, 29

Kokand, French merchants

in, zo
Krafft. Hugues. quotation

from. 1 1
Kublai Khan, attack by.

upon Tibet. 192

Ladak, when conquered by
Tibetans, 190; overrun by
enemy from Kashgar.

uk upon, from Kash-
mir, 201

Lakes, discovery of, on pla-
teau. 88

Lamaism, its relations to
Pon-bo, 167

Lanak Pass, search for, 89

Landon, Mr., quotation from,

3 a 4

Langars, construction and
use of, 53

Lassoo, value of. as servant.
34; marched with Captain
Welby, go, prophesies our
death, 93; sent out for re-
lief, 96

Letters, introduction of, into
Tibet, ;

Lhasa, sends monks now to
Ladak. 122; when first
settled. 190; admission of
E uro p ea ns to. 209; diffi-
culty of reaching, from the
north, 223; difficulty of
wintering in, 237

Macdonald, General, report

of, on battle of Guru, 115

Magic, practice of, in Tibet,

*74
Malthus law of population

seen in Tibet. 150
Manuscript, ancient, found

in sand-buried cities. 60;

forgery of, 61; age of, 62
Mark nam. Sir Clements.

comments of, on author's

paper, 284

Index

329

Marriage, its various forms,
150: relation of. to private
property, 154

Medinsky, General, courtesy
of. 13

Miles, Colonel, our reception
by, 3 1 ; has clerk with, re-
markable ancestry, 40

Mir Mullah, piety of, 35 ; his
weak prayer-tones, 103

Mirage, troubles caused by.

Mission, for negotiation,
reasons for sending, 330;
commercial, proposed oy
Great Britain, 211

Missionaries, their usual
lives, ist; Moravian, at
Ladak Leh, 125; their
methods of conversion, 1 36 ;
literary work of, 285

Mohammed Joo, his charac-
ter, 50; his skill with
horses, 79; our parting
with, 131

Mohammedanism, its status
in China, 36

Monastery, at Ladak Leh, 1 28

Monasticism, effect and ex-
tent of, in Tibet, 153, 156;
relation of, to poverty,
157; orders of, in Tibet,
160

Mongolia, compared with
Turkestan, 8; limits and
area of, 14a; character
of, 144

Mongols, interference of, in
Tibet, 195; probable rela-
tion between them and
Tarki people, 264; various
families oi, 369

Monogamy, is democratic,
150

Morality of British expedi-
tion discussed, 350

Nestorian doctrine presented
in China, 268

Nobility, position of, in Ti-

bet. 161
Nobra Valley, beauty of. lai
North Amertcan Review, quo-
tation from, 341

Omar Khayyam, his ideal
contrasted with Colonel
Sullivan's. 138

Opium war, effect of, upon
Tibet, 303

Orenberg, education of Rus-
sians there,

Osh, organisation of caravan
there, 25

Oxus. See Amon Daria

Palace of former Ladaki
king. 129

Panamik village, substantial
character of, 121

Pasturage, exchange of. be-
tween Tibet and Sikkim,
295

Pekin, telegraph line from, to
Kashgar, 37

Petrofsky, Consul General,
first visit to. 31; influence
of, on Chinese governor.
41 ; his attitude toward us
doubtful, 43; his farewell
visit, 44

Phagspa. appointed as ruler
of Tibet, 193

Polu, march to, from Kho-
tan, 65; geographical im-
portance of, 66; strange
Russian seen in. 66 ; Bey of,
his policy toward stran*
gers, 70; ascent from, to
plateau, 72

Polyandry, has responsibiH-
ties, iv, its relation! to
buid -holding, 150 ; pro-
duces restraint upon pop-
ulation. 153

530

Index

Polygamy, has responsibili-
ties, 13; suggests concen-
trated wealth, 150

Pon-bo, relation of, to Lama-
ism, 167

Potala, when enlarged, 197

Prayer, many forms of, in
Tibet, 123

Purgatory, Camp, our en-
forced stay in, 97

Race, characteristics of, diffi-
cult to trace, 147

Railway, charges of, com-
pared with caravan, 181;
cost of, for Tibetan serv-
ice, 183

Ras Worke. his conduct in
Abyssinia, 70

Rawal Pindi, arrival at, 140

Relief, arrival of, at Camp
Purgatory, 104

Religious creed, effect of, on
barbarians, 188

Roads, character of, in Tibet,
180

Rockhill, Mr. W, W„ views
of, on Tibetan situation,
244

Royal Geographic Sod
paper for, by author, a 81

Rudok, our effort to reach,
79; our false move con-
cerning, 81; our failure to
find road to, 89; impossi-
bility of reaching, 106

Russia, lack of general edu-
cation in, 14; probable
future effect of Siberia on,
15; Church and State in,
17; probable progress of
reform in, 18; racial units
composing, 19 ; effect upon,
of conquest of Turkestan,
19 ; permission required
for leaving, 24; prepon-
derance of. in Chinese Tur-
kestan. 41; how referred
to in the Bible, 46 ; attack

by, on India feared by Eng-
land, a 19; possible meas-
ures of, in Tibet, 222;
no evidence of her activity
in Tibet, 339; proposal by,
for mixlilication of Treaty,

Rtmo-Chinese Bank, branch
of, in Kashgar, 49

Samarcand, character of peo-
ple- in, 9

Sasar. mountain and camp
so named. 114; splendid
scenery of, 120

Sikkim, conquest of, by Brit-
ish, 2 jo; importance of.
212

Sind Valley, entrance into,

Spencer, Herbert, quotation
from, 214; correction of,

Somaliland, small number of
British in, 246

Songs of Ladaki people, 285

Soudan, small number of
British in, 246

Srinigar, description of, 1

Sullivan, Colonel, caravan
of, 1 38

Survey, methods of, on pla-
teau, 76

Stein, Dr., discovery of MS.
by. 61

Taj Mahal, monument to a

wife, 13
Tamerlane, love of, for a

wife, ta
Taldyk Pass, view from.

Tarim Basin, desiccation of,

271

Tanm River, streams com-
posing it. 51

Index

33 »

Tea, importance of, in Tibet,
181 •, cost of, in Tibet, 182;
from China preferred in
Tibet, 3^3 ; importation
from India contemplated,
232, 297

Telegraph, Pekin to Kash-
gar. 37

Tibet, cheerful songs of, 117;
substantial houses of, 123;
native drink of, £23; ap-
pearance of women 01, 1 24 ;
area of, 143; effect of its
elevation on character.
148; general character of
people of. 146; difficulties
as to cleanliness in, 149;
tnonasticism in, 156; ex-
clusion policy in, why
adopted, 205 ; fear of Great
Britain in, 228; attack
upon, an international
question , 245; valueless to
British interests, 24?; un-
derstanding in, of Act of
Grace, 258; military move-
ments on plateau of, 283;
polite manners in, 3 1 7 ; oc-
cupation of its territory,
320

Trade, British demand for
freedom of, 295

Treaty, not signed by Dalai
Lama, 237; emasculation
and ratification of, 248;
modification of, 255; se-
cret, between Russia and
Tibet, rumour of, 308;
secret, between Russia and
Tibet, denial of, 312; text
of, as made by Younghus-
band. 318

Trees, first seen in fifty days,

Tsongkapa, compared to Lu-
ther, 171

Turcoman, character of, 9

Turkestan, history of, 260;
conquest of, 264

Turkestan, Chinese, open to
Russian attack, 42; views
of natives concerning Pow-
ers. 42 ; area of. 142 ; career
of Yakoob Bey in, 272

Turkestan, Russian, telegraph
in, 27; garrisons in. 27

Turner, mission of, to Tibet,

301

Volcanic action, where noted,
■' 7 8

Washington, diplomatic in-
quiry from, 239

Yak, reliable beast for gla-
cier travel, 125; use of, in
China and Tibet, 180

Yarkand, character of people
in, 9; wholly Asiatic, 50

Yatung, establishment of
market at. 207

Yellow Peril, estimate of, 38

Younghusband, Colonel, ne*
gotiations by, 235; logical
treaty made by, 256

Yue-che, attack by, upon
Tarim Basin, 361

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