A DEAD ANTELOPE.
A DEAD ANTELOPE.
On the 29th August, when we vowed our three mules were worth their weight in gold, for with heavy loads they plodded most pluckily through the sodden soil, and over nasty, deep, stony nullahs, I happened to be walking on higher ground along the side of hills. I had my shot-gun and was after hares, for we were all very fond of them. Quite by chance I came upon the first sign of man's work.I had found a māné. A māné is a heap of stones, consisting of only a few or of thousands, upon which are inscribed sacred sayings. They are common all over the country, wherever Tibetans live. This particular māné consisted of three stones placed edgeways in the ground, and forming three sides of a square. Resting on these was a fourth stone, and they all bore inscriptions. This was a great find, and I shouted and waved to Malcolm and the men below, two of whom were soon eagerly making their way towards me to learn the news.
All were buoyed up with hope of soon meeting people, and when we halted after our first march, all were full of suggestions and expectations, and looked forward to once more getting some flour, mutton, salt, sugar, and butter. In two days at the most we calculated nomads would be found.
On one green hill we could see hundreds upon hundreds of yak grazing; there was, I believe, more yak visible than hill. We were particularly partial to these animals, for the reason already given on a previous page. The fat of the yak was so precious to us that we used to boil down every ounce of it, and put it into our old cocoa tins. These cakes of yak's fat were very much appreciated by all. We used to knock off bits of it and eat it as if it were Everton toffy.
We found that to cross the river would have been hazardous, but we discovered that, after winding round to the left, it made a sharp bend to the right again, and at this point rose up precipitous cliffs, forming the basis of high hills. We should, therefore, either have to go round or over these hills. The former would have taken days, and probably have led us out of our depth altogether. In such a situation we had no choice, and commenced to climb them.
In the midst of our difficulty, another of those violentstorms fell on us, accompanied with hail, that was blown painfully against man and beast. It was impossible to struggle on against such adversity—a stiff ascent and a blinding storm. Even this came to an end, when we slowly breasted the hill again. By nightfall we had come out victorious; we had descended again the other side, and had encamped close to the river. We knew, though, that we were not sufficiently strong to overcome many more obstacles such as we had just surmounted. A wet morning of mist and rain followed this event. When we were able, we marched off again along the banks of the river till we found it was joined by another river coming from the north. This we had to cross with care.
On the other side, some distance off, I saw a yak, and set out ahead to shoot it. I wounded him grievously, and feeling certain that he would not go very far, I waited for the caravan to arrive, so that a man could come after me to bring along some meat. He gave me a longer chase than I had anticipated, but the last bullet told, when he rolled over on his back and kicked violently with all fours in his final struggles. He was a very fine fellow, as the man with me remarked, "Pahar ke muafic" (like a mountain), and his horns were over three feet long.
Laden with meat, I walked on in search of our camp, and was beginning to get a little uneasy at not having seen any signs of which way they had gone, for the sun was setting, when two very faint shots announced their whereabouts. That night we fared sumptuously, for Malcolm too had slain a yak near camp, as he thought it quite possible that the one I had gone after might have escaped altogether, which would have meant no supper.
We were aroused early by moans from Lassoo. We found him lying on his back and groaning, and argued that he must have been suffering from indigestion. We had been anxious to make an early start, but Lassoo's sickness anda thick, wetting mist quickly dispelled this wish. By midday Lassoo was relieved by administering warm flannel and Cockle's pills, and the mist, too, by the cheering sun. On the march I shot a goa with my shot-gun. He was very tame, never attempting to run away more than twenty yards from me. Later on two yak came charging down upon our caravan, within fifteen yards. Had they come much nearer we should have had to shoot them in self defence; yet we had no wish to, for we had abundance of meat for the time being, as much as we could manage to carry.
AN ENORMOUS YAK.
AN ENORMOUS YAK.
Although Colonel Prjevalsky writes that "wild yak shooting is as dangerous as it is exciting, for a wounded beast, especially an old bull, will often attack the pursuer," yet, personally speaking, I never found a yak attempt tocharge, wounded or not, and consider there to be absolutely no more danger in shooting a yak than an antelope.
Towards evening, when we were thinking of calling a halt, we found another important river running in from the north, and which we should have to cross. We elected to do so that same evening, for we doubted being able to get the men to face the icy water the first thing in the morning. Both Lassoo and Shukr Ali were sick, so we only had Shahzad Mir and Esau to help us.
In first attempting to find a crossing, the current carried me off my legs, for the water was waist deep at this spot. By making more trials we found we could manage higher up the river, by crossing in a diagonal direction with the current. Here the river was twenty-five yards across, with the water up to the thighs, and the bed was uneven with big boulders.
These operations took some time, for, fearing accidents, we had to make double journeys. Worst of all was the cold north wind, that blew without pity. It was chilly work, to say the least of it, and when all had reached the green turf on the other bank, we all felt we could never have crossed that river again, not even for a sack of sovereigns!
ANOTHER CHULA—MOUNTAINS—A QUEER ILLUSION—STRANGE VOICES—WE FIND WE ARE DESCENDING—A TIBETAN CAMP—ESAU SENT AS AN AMBASSADOR—AN INVITATION.
The 1st of September was a dull morning with a very biting east wind, but our two invalids had been cured by means of Cockle's, and all of us felt relieved when we woke up to find we were on the right side of the river. I am afraid that our two sick men would not have recovered, had we delayed the crossing of the torrent the evening before. During our morning's march we kept close to the river's edge, which now flowed by majestically. In the latter half of the day the travelling was bad and toilsome, over a white, stony soil, abounding in unexpected quagmires, and enticing us further on to spongy, sloping ground, sliced up by innumerable nasty ragged nullahs. Even in this inhospitable stretch of land Lassoo found a hope of further good tidings in the shape of a chula, or mountain fireplace, apparently a month or two old.
Close to the river we quite unexpectedly hit upon a beautifully grassy spot, sheltered by some green hillocks from the incessant wind. It promised at sunset to turn out a bright, clear night, so as to afford us a chance of taking some latitudes, but clouds again began to gather around and eventually obscured every star, and produced a dim yet penetrating rain. This at daybreak was replaced by snow. Still we loaded up, and struggled along against the storm ofsnow and sleet that blew against our faces and impeded our progress. Later on the sun forced a way through the unkindly clouds, and the snow was quickly melted into the soil. All our labour in drying our baggage was wasted, for everything was soaked with rain again as soon as we began our second march, over a country alternating with patches of grass and white stones. It was an impossibility to see for any distance, but we steered by the noise from the swollen river, till, just before dusk, all became clear again. Then we learnt the cause of the icy wind that had been persecuting us. There rose up north and north-east of us, forty or fifty miles away, some lofty, snow-capped mountains, a truly magnificent picture to gaze upon. A sunny morning was an agreeable change for us, and, added to the fine sight of the snows, compensated for the sterile and monotonous plains of white stones over which we continued our march.
The only life we saw was a large gathering of sand-grouse. So confident were we of shooting a sumptuous meal, that as we drew near to these birds we began to reckon how many of them our four barrels would account for. They, too, must have had their share of reckoning, for without giving us a chance, they with one accord took to wing and flew high and far away, irritating us with their well-known notes.
After proceeding for about four miles we came to a large heap of stones, conspicuous in this flat, open plain. It was an indication of man's presence at some time or other. There was no writing on any of the stones. From here we descended to a lower level in the bed of the river. On one of the adjacent hills I had noticed, through my glasses, actually a man with a little dog. Look as often as we might, still there was no mistaking their identity, yet we could scarcely realise the fact.
Whilst the meat was being prepared for breakfast, I went off to interview the stranger. The nearer I came the morewas I convinced that there really stood a man and his dog. Suddenly they disappeared from view, and fearing their escape I hastened my step, which soon brought me to within an easily recognisable distance, when, on the man with his little dog again showing themselves, I learnt that they were no other than two marmots.
After breakfast we heard what sounded like men shouting from the other side of the river. We all turned our eyes in the direction from whence it came, and, in spite of getting a good view, nothing was visible. We speculated as to what could possibly be the cause of the noise, for all had heard it, and, as is usual on these occasions, were none the wiser in the end. The only result was that there was considerable excitement amongst our little party. I have read of travellers hearing strange voices when traversing some of the deserts of Turkistan. Perhaps some of these phantoms who emitted those remarkable noises had wandered over into Tibet.
The monotonous plain we marched over in the afternoon seemed interminable, making the men wearier than the animals, for the going was firm and level. As soon as we had pitched our camp, clouds gathered around us from every quarter, and at length burst open with a violent thunderstorm. At such times we could do nothing more than lie down in our tent, and try to keep dry and look pleasant.
The day before yesterday the men had told us that they had meat left for five more days. We did not, therefore, trouble about shooting any of the kyang that happened to come and look at our camp, or to stalk any of the antelope we saw. After the storm had abated, they came to inform us that the meat was finished, not an uncommon state of affairs with us. It shows how difficult it was to provide for such unreasonable men, worthy as they were in most other respects.
We were beginning to think that, as we had marched so long and so far without seeing any living being, we must be the only people in existence. To any one who is anxious to avoid the police authorities, I can strongly recommend the Chang.
On the 4th of September we learnt from our own observations that we were actually at a lower altitude than Niagzu is, where we had last seen brushwood. We had unmistakably been descending ever since the great disaster befell our animals. After we had made our midday meal off the scrapings of a yak's tail we had carried for some days, and the carcass of a hare, we moved on again, still traversing the same kind of country.
Towards evening we found an old chula close by the river side, and, at no great distance from here, the ground whereon only a few months previously there must have been a fairly large encampment of nomads or merchants. From traces we found round and about, it was evident the caravan had consisted of camels and ponies; there were even the remains of a dead pony close by. We found the single horn of an antelope stuck into the ground, which was a convincing proof that the owners had possessed firearms. We saw also some pieces of string and odds and ends, which our men, of course, picked up. The caravan had evidently marched along the river we were following, for further on we found more camel droppings, but as to who they were and whence they had come from and where they were going, it was impossible to say. They benefited our little party by putting every one in the most hopeful and cheery frame of mind. Here were we at inhabitable altitudes, and we had seen unmistakable signs that told us that other people, too, had travelled in this part of the land.
There was much rain during the night. After loading up, Malcolm and I, separating, went ahead to do ourbest to shoot some meat. Malcolm luckily wounded a kyang, and drove the animal to the spot where we had halted. His heart was soon cut out and hissing with the onions in the frying pan, and all fared sumptuously. We carried away sufficient donkey flesh to last our party three days, and proceeded over the same monotonous plain, which later on was relieved by some sandy hillocks. The men's spirits were kept from falling through the discovery of some more chulas. This encouraged them to weather the storm that enveloped us.
During the night at Camp 107 our mules had strayed, so that on the morning of the 6th of September all idea of making a double march had to be abandoned, especially as there was a steady downfall of rain. It was, in fact, 11 o'clock before we were able to make a start, and at that hour a cold wind was blowing from the northern snows, and the day was altogether dull, heavy, and depressing; it awakened us to the realisation of our actual feelings. We became aware that we needed some little luxury, such as flour and salt. We seemed to be having rather a surfeit of our finds of wild donkey's flesh.
More than four months had elapsed since we had gaily cantered out of Leh post-haste. We longed to find somebody, and we would willingly have given a large sum for a loaf of bread. We wondered how it was that while our four men had of late been always nagging and quarrelling with one another over every little trifle, we ourselves had never disagreed for a minute. Our only solution was that there was nothing at all we could have argued about, for both our minds were bent heart and soul on the same object, namely, the accomplishment of what we had undertaken to do.
As we had seen signs of mankind, we began to talk over plans. We decided that when we reached a locality abounding in game, to leave three men and one mulethere, and ourselves, with the other man and two mules, lightly loaded, to make enormous marches, and find people and bring back assistance with the greatest possible expedition. Thus, filled with these thoughts, both of the past and of the future, we continued our march in silence, so gloomy was the day. The daily practice of exploring on ahead had made the work of always keeping a sharp look out in front, to right and left of our route, habitual to us all.
Suddenly, in the dull light, I noticed far down the river, on the stretch of pasture lands that extended to the hills on the other side, something of whitish appearance. This at first, by means of our glasses, we made out to be a number of stone houses. Yet the idea seemed so ridiculous to us that we declared it was only some irregularities of the ground, such as we had often seen before, and conjured up into no end of impossible resemblances.
The dull, gloomy day had doubtless made us less sanguine of help than we usually were. Nevertheless, we still kept our eyes on the thing, and halted every three or four hundred yards to inspect again with our glasses, but only to repeat once more, "Merely irregularities of the ground." At length we reached a piece of rising ground, where another inspection produced the words, "Merely irregularities," and, "Stop a moment! Some one else have a look," I called, as I held out my glasses for the nearest man to take, stating, "I think it must be something else than 'merely irregularities of the ground.'"
The first man gazed intently, removed the glasses from his eyes, and passed them to another, still keeping his eyes fixed on these "irregularities of the ground." Thus we all looked and gazed, and all were astounded, for some could even discern smoke rising from the spot. We moved on quickly another few hundred yards, full of excitement, and suggesting a thousand problems in a very short time. Once more wehalted and repeated our observations. Now the smoke was as clear as a pike-staff, and, what was still more astounding, we could actually solve the question of the "irregularities of the ground." These, indeed, we made out to be tents, and if there was a doubt it was soon dispelled by our noticing a short distance from the tents an immense number of animals, which we conjectured to be yak. We put two and two together and agreed with ourselves that the tents formed a large encampment, and the animals dotted about were the transport.
But our next question was, "By whom could they be inhabited? " The tents were certainly white, and we knew the tents of ordinary nomads were black. Was it an encampment of the Golok, or other robber tribes? Surely, we said, they have black tents too? Was it a Russian caravan travelling from Turkistan? Could it by any possible chance be some other travellers' camp, like ourselves, but on a much larger scale? Were they a body of Turkistan merchants? Then, again, we reflected that their tents would probably be black. We could not help thinking there must be some European dwelling in them. Whatever they might turn out to be, we decided to waste no more time in useless speculation, but to resort to action.
We decided on the following plan:—We sent Esau, because he could speak Tibetan well, with Shukr Ali, because he was of least use to us, armed with rifles, to cross the river and reconnoitre the camp, find out who they might be, and, if possible, bring back food and help. We ourselves, with Shahzad Mir and Lassoo, continued the march along the river till opposite the encampment, which lay a mile or so back from it. We then selected a hollow, surrounded by high rocks, and with good grass around, to pitch our camp on, completely out of sight of those on the other side of the river.
Thus we were thoroughly prepared for any emergencythat might occur. From our position we could take note of their every movement without being seen ourselves. While each of us watched in turn from the summit of the rocks, which we called our battlements, the rest were busy with the usual duties connected with pitching a camp or bivouac. We saw that our two men had safely crossed the river, and watched them getting nearer and nearer to the camp, till darkness hid them from our view.
As the night was dark and our two men had been explicitly told where they would find us, and as it was highly probable that the strangers opposite had no idea at all of our existence, we saw no reason why we should keep watch throughout the night. We certainly kept awake a later hour than usual, chiefly, I think, in the expectation of Esau turning up with a loaf of bread or some other food—for Esau is a shrewd, cunning fellow—whilst our conversation consisted merely of repeating our conjectures as to who these people might be, and what might be happening to our two men. With a gnawing feeling at the pit of our stomachs, which we thought might have been satisfied, we fell asleep.
Snow was on the ground when we anxiously rose the next morning, glasses in hand, to mount the battlements and watch. We found the previous day that with glasses we could just distinguish and count the tents, and with difficulty make out men. At first I could distinguish nothing of the strange camp, and merely put this down to the fact that it was not yet full daylight. Still I kept on straining and straining my eyes as the day grew brighter, yet I could see nothing.
So remarkable did it seem to me that I called Malcolm. Neither could he distinguish any signs of the camp up or down the river. We stood astounded, and somewhat crestfallen. What could have happened to the tents, and where were our two men, we asked over and over again? All ourhopes, raised so high, of seeing people once again, and of getting food, were all of a sudden cruelly shattered. Yet surely, we argued, if there had been no tents, and our certainty, after all, was only an illusion, what could have happened to our two men? Had they been swept away in trying to recross the river, or were they lying ill behind some rock? It was impossible for us to know, and we resolved to wait and watch for them the whole day, and then, if there were no signs of them, to continue our march down the river bank, for we could not say how many more or how few days we might hold out without getting any help.
We were more surprised than ever to see two men, about 10 o'clock, trudging along up stream on the same side of the river as ourselves, and before very long were glad to recognise them. To judge from the way they were walking, we guessed they had good news for us, and such proved to be the case. We were all soon eagerly listening to their adventures.
Esau related how this encampment proved to be a joint one of Tibetan merchants on their way from Lhassa to China, and how he had been taken to the tent of the head merchant, where he had received hospitality, and slept the night. Esau had been primed with a story to tell that we were a merchant and a doctor on our way to China. The merchant had at once recognised Esau as coming from Ladakh, and, on hearing his story, he remarked they must be either English or Russians, for, he said, men of no other nations could accomplish such a journey. Then Esau related the whole truth, detailing how matters stood with us. At the mention of rupees the merchant pricked up his ears, and expressed his desire to see us and do a little business by selling us food. In order to gain his friendship Esau had told him we had nothing else but bags of rupees, while as a matter of fact we had only something like fourhundred. Esau also accounted for the miraculous vanishing of the entire encampment. He said that before daybreak they had marched off along the river, which they had crossed lower down, and thence were going to travel on to Barong and Tankar on the Chinese border. The merchant had sent his salaam, and advised us to follow in his tracks and catch up his caravan, for he said he was most anxious to make our acquaintance. This plan suited us admirably, for we, like the merchant, were steering for Barong and Tankar. We pictured to ourselves the friendship and hospitality that awaited us, and anticipated overtaking the caravan that same evening, and the enjoyment of a cosy tent and a good supper, for Esau had told us he carried all kinds of supplies.
WE CATCH UP THE MERCHANT'S CAMP—TIBETAN HOSPITALITY—WE FIND THAT WE HAVE DISCOVERED THE SOURCE OF THE CHU MA—BARGAINING.
It can well be imagined that we were not long in loading up our three mules, and were soon marching faster than was our wont down the banks of the river. Still, as we covered mile after mile, we were growing disappointed at finding no tracks of the caravan, especially, too, as from any high mounds that afforded a far-stretching view, we could see no signs of any camp at all. We began to lose heart and to fear the whole affair was a myth. We wondered whether the merchant had been deceiving Esau. Just then, as our doubts had become really serious, we reached the place where the caravan had crossed the river.
The merchant had certainly given good advice, and easy to follow, in telling us to overtake him by means of his tracks. They were clearly seen and numberless in the soft sandy soil; it seemed as though a whole army had swept along. By the water's edge was a mud pile two feet high, decorated with a stick on top. We were convinced that it was a landmark to point out to merchants where to cross in safety. Here we had to leave the river, which we had been following for nearly twelve days from its very source. We kept to the tracks of the merchant, expecting every moment to come upon the encampment. Our three mules were beginning to show signs of fatigue,and as sunset was close at hand we were reluctantly compelled to halt for the night without the fulfilment of our hopes. We were a little anxious and disappointed, for we argued that if the merchant always marched like this, we should never be able to catch him up.
The next morning, the 8th September, we tried hard to come in sight of the merchant. The tracks took us over a steep pass of deep sand and a descent down to a fine grassy valley, fed with a stream of clear bright water. Close to this we found they had encamped the night before. Here was the first good grass we had seen since leaving the river, so it was clear the merchant had declined to halt until he had reached a really good camping-ground, and we reckoned that the chances were that the next march would only be a short one.
We found the fires that had been lit were still burning, the dried droppings or argols were still red-hot, and various marks denoted where the different tents had been pitched, and the yak and ponies picketed. Such preparations as fire and water at hand induced us to halt for breakfast, and after despatching this frugal meal, Malcolm, Esau and myself, loaded with some rupees, which we had not set eyes on for months, set out in front, determined to catch up the merchants that very night, no matter how far they might have gone. We could no longer stand this vanishing like a will-o'-the-wisp. The other three men and three mules were to follow on in their own time, making as long a march as they could manage.
There was no difficulty in following the tracks, for we could sometimes see miles a away a broad black-looking line over damp grassy or deep sandy ground showing the route that had been taken. We had a long though pleasant tramp before us, mostly through grassy valleys, bounded on either hand by fine ranges of hills. The sun had set, yet we were able easily to distinguish the tracks, and finally, afterturning the corner of a valley, we saw lights burning some way off in some low-lying land, well sheltered by neighbouring hills from the bitterly cold wind that was blowing.
As long as we continued on the move we did not suffer, but a halt of a few minutes soon became unpleasant. After an eighteen-mile walk we were within half a mile of the tents, so we sent Esau on ahead, armed with one of our Chinese visiting cards, to announce to the merchant that we were outside, and were anxious to pay our respects to him, and, if possible, do a little business in the shape of food and hiring transport.
As soon as Esau had left us we quickly grew cold and impatient, for we had expected he would have at once come himself, or sent some one else, to bring us to the presence of the merchant. We could stand it no longer; we were famished with cold and hunger, and there lay the tents. We had done our share of being polite by sending our servant on in front. Why should we not go ourselves and enter the merchant's tent without more formality? As we drew near to the tents, the loud fierce barking of the big dogs gave tidings of our approach. Hunger and cold made us indifferent to these monsters, and had it not been for the kindness and intelligence of a small boy, who saw us, we might have had a very unpleasant time of it. With his aid we at length found our way to the head merchant's tent, where a dangerously fine-looking dog, luckily chained up to the pole, by his angry growls soon brought the merchant's servant from within. He must by this time have heard all about our arrival, for without more ado he beckoned to us to come inside the tent. We wanted no second invitation to escape from the icy-cold north wind that seemed to penetrate our very bones. We smiled with unfeigned pleasure and delight as we entered this cosy warm abode. On either side of the tent was a thick mattress, covered with dull red cloth, and on the end of each of themsat a Tibetan merchant, clothed in dark red robes. At the end of the tent was burning a gentle light, displaying his religious articles of silver and other precious metals that lay on a table—a light that was quite in accordance with the surroundings of comfort and snugness. In the middle of the tent was a fire of red-hot argols, glowing particularly bright on this cold night, supporting a shining copper kettle filled with tea.
At the end of one of the beds sat Esau, busily engaged in filling his inner man; whilst able to satisfy his own wants he seemed to have lost his senses and forgotten all about his masters'. A few sharp words of reproof soon brought him to his feet, and we were introduced to the two chief Tibetans in the camp. They signed to us to be seated, and then handed us a basin each, which the servant filled with hot tea. Into this he dropped a large lump of butter, and then held before us a large red leather bag, filled with tsampa, or finely-ground barley meal. From this we took several large spoonfuls and mixed up with the tea, adding whatever salt we fancied. The merchant's servant then handed us some chopsticks, and we were soon at work shovelling the hot mixture into our mouths, rather greedily, I'm afraid, and if I were to relate the number of basins we emptied that night, it would never be credited.
As soon as we had somewhat satisfied the gnawings of our hunger, we opened negotiations about purchasing supplies. The prices far excelled our purses, and as everything was packed up for their early march the next morning, no business could be done in that line. The merchant informed us that he only intended making a six-mile march, and he consented to lend us two ponies for our baggage, that they might help our three mules in reaching the camp the next day. He said he would leave his servant with them, with instructions that if our three mules did not arrive before midday, he was to wait no longer, but come on without them.
After thanking the two merchants for their hospitality, we left the tent to go to the shelter where it had been arranged we were to spend the night. We found ourselves stumbling over picketing ropes and threading our way amidst hosts of yak, till we drew up before a huge pile of goods with a large awning stretched over them. We sat down in the darkness by this mass of merchandise. Here we found no shelter from the wind, and to have remained there for any length of time would have been impossible; such a bitterly cold wind we had never experienced before—besides, we did not feel we were being treated with the little respect we were entitled to. In our present condition we could certainly not expect much, but here were we, two Englishmen, chucked along with the baggage under an awning, absolutely no shelter on a night like this, while the two Tibetan merchants were sleeping peacefully in warmth and comfort. We could withstand it no longer, and rose to find our way back to the merchants' tent. They had both gone to bed, but we informed them that we, too, had come to sleep inside the tent, and at once began to make ourselves at home. The merchants, though surprised at our intrusion, still were not in a frame of mind to object to our company. Either they had some pity for us on this bitter night, or more probably, owing to the late hour we had kept them up eating and talking, they were too tired to resort to argument or resistance. A numnah was placed on the ground between the two beds for us to lie upon. As soon as various coverings had been spread over us, we were soon warm again and both sound asleep.
Before daybreak I was aroused by some energetic Tibetan, gifted with a voice like a bull, bellowing forth "Chou-chou, chou-chou, chou-chou-ou-ou-ou!" which, I am told, means, "Up and get ready!" I think I must have dozed again after this, for I next remembered finding myself in the open on the ground. It was just getting light, and masses ofladen yak were moving past us. We were both struck with astonishment; nobody seemed to take any notice of us. There we lay; there was no noise—everybody seemed as though he was going to do his own work and look to nothing else. Batch after batch quietly disappeared—merchants, tents, yak, ponies, men, dogs, and all. All seemed to know what was happening but ourselves; we could not grasp the situation, but cold made us rise and try to warm ourselves.
THE KUSHOK'S TAME YAK.
THE KUSHOK'S TAME YAK.
In spite of the wonderful disappearance of this wonderful camp, we were glad to find that the merchant had kept his word, for we found two very fat-looking ponies had been left behind for us in charge of his servant Nimbri, who was provided also with the large red bag of tsampa and theother ingredients for mixing it up with. We weren't long in having the kettle boiling, and Malcolm and I sat down along with Nimbri to breakfast.
Esau had gone back to hasten on the mules for fear they should not arrive before noon. Nimbri was fully aware of the position he held as master of the ceremonies, and for some time was stingy with his doling out of the food; but a present of a knife and a rupee, which at first he refused, made him more liberal, and although all our conversation was carried on by signs, we all laughed heartily and enjoyed the fun. After our remarkable breakfast Nimbri gave us two large coats, and wrapping ourselves in these, we separated and went to sleep in some sunny nook.
I was aroused by Malcolm some time afterwards to come and have some more breakfast, when Nimbri made signs to us that it was about noon, and that he could wait no longer. Just at that moment the mules came into sight round the corner, the baggage was quickly transferred to the ponies, and our men had soon finished the tea and tsampa, which they so well deserved. We now looked forward to reaching the merchants' camp before darkness and learning something about the management of it, its size and composition. Malcolm and I, who were in front, were soon surrounded by a number of Tibetans, who made friendly jokes amongst themselves and were evidently amused at our appearance.
As soon as our baggage arrived, we pitched our little tent and attempted to return the hospitality of the merchants by inviting them to tea, which was all we could give them. We were anxious, too, to make a bargain with them for hiring a yak or pony for our baggage. Just before darkness the two merchants came, for our tent was not more than a hundred yards off from their own. The hospitality and comfort of our tent was but a poor apology for that of their own, as we all four of us sat crowded up in an uncomfortable heat. Esau was close at hand asinterpreter, but we failed to come to any agreement about hiring animals for the morrow. We were able, however, to purchase some supplies, flour at eight annas, and afterwards one rupee a pound, and ghi and salt at correspondingly high rates.
The following morning the whole merchants' camp had moved off before we had begun to load up. We had no trouble in finding their tracks, and after a pleasant march we noticed one of the mountain sides thickly dotted with the merchants' yak out grazing, so we knew the tents would be close at hand; everything was in full swing as if the camp had been there for months. As we approached we were told by Nimbri to pitch our tent near the head merchant's, into whose tent we were soon invited to drink tea.
As we sat sipping and chatting about the country and the people, to our great astonishment and delight he informed us that the name of the river where we had first seen his camp was no other than the Chu Ma, the very one we had been in search of. Without being aware of it at the time, we had actually discovered the source of the Chu Ma just after leaving the beautiful fresh-water lake abounding in wild yak. We had also followed its course for nearly twelve days, a distance of about 120 miles. This river is also known to the Tibetans as the Ma Chu, and to the Mongols as the Nap-chitai-ulen. He informed us that the intention of the Tibetans to oppose the entrance of foreigners into Lhassa was stronger than it had ever been before; and it was his firm belief that no one ever would reach Lhassa.
After we had made some purchases in the shape of cheese, dates, and a piece of meat, we took our departure. In the course of the visit we had presented the head merchant with a small tin of saffron, which all Tibetans value so highly. We hoped that by doing so, when he came to visit our tent in return, he would be more inclined to listen to a bargain for helping us with our baggage.
As soon as we were ready for the reception in our tent of the two merchants, we sent word to them. We had purposely got out our bottle of brandy, and hoped that, if they would take some, they would become more liberal-minded. They certainly warmed up and appreciated this valuable intoxicant, although they were most cautious in the amount they took. We produced more saffron and talked and argued for a long while in hopes of buying a pony at a reasonable price. At length they agreed to let us have an old but powerful and useful pony for Rs. 60, for which they had at first demanded Rs. 120. It was a great relief for us to be able to do something for our three mules, and having struck this bargain, we soon hinted to the merchants that it was time for bed.
Before telling further of our adventures, it will be worth while to devote a chapter in describing the merchants' camp.
MANAGEMENT OF THE TIBETAN CARAVAN—TEA WITH THE MERCHANT—SHUGATZA RIVER—FRICTION—AN ALARM.
The general management and internal economy of this wonderful caravan was sufficiently full of interest to merit a small space being devoted to its description. The head of the caravan was a very fine-looking Tibetan from Lhassa; he must have stood well over six feet and was exceedingly well-built, decidedly the biggest Tibetan I have ever seen. In the camp he was always known as the "Kushok," and all attempts to find out his real name resulted in failure; I very much doubt if more than one or two members of the caravan knew it, and they dared not disclose it. The title "Kushok" was originally applied only to living Buddhas, but latterly it has become merely a term of respect or affection, and no longer has any religious significance.
Next in importance to the Kushok came another big merchant, who lived and slept in the same tent with him; besides these two there were numerous small merchants, some of whom owned, perhaps, as few as half a dozen yak; and, lastly, a lama or priest. Altogether they made up an imposing caravan of close on 1,500 yak, as near as we could calculate. We were told that one herdsman was employed to look after every sixty yak, but I cannot help thinking that, in reality, there were rather more; every man in the party, merchants, herdsmen, as well as the cooks and servants, was mounted, so that, when on themarch, they presented a striking contrast to our sadly reduced little party.
Their daily routine was somewhat as follows. About 4a.m.the inferior of the two big merchants would wake up and call to the head cook that it was time to get up, the latter would then give a loud shout, which sounded like "Chou-chou, chou-chou, chou-chou-ou-ou!" and which was promptly echoed by men on guard all through the camp. In a few moments every one was astir, tents were being struck and yak being loaded; in an incredibly short space of time this work was completed and the ponies were being saddled, and in rather under an hour from the word to get up being given the vast caravan was on the move.
The 1,500 yak were divided into seven distinct companies and moved in column, each company superintended by the merchants to whom the animals belonged, and kept in order by the servants and herdsmen under them. These seven companies were again divided into two wings, one consisting of four, the other of the remaining three companies. Every day they marched in the same order, generally with a considerable distance between the two wings, one moving off some time before the other, but everything was managed without the slightest noise or confusion. From the time the watchmen aroused the sleeping camp till the moment of marching off scarcely a voice was heard; it might then be necessary for some one of the mounted men to scream at a refractory yak to make him fall into his proper place; but so little, even of this, was there that, after the first day or two, we slept peacefully on while our Tibetan friends passed close by our tent. I am sorry to say that we were never able to witness their arrival in camp, but we saw enough to convince us that everything must have been conducted in the same systematic manner as the morning start.
On arrival in a fresh camp each company drove in itspicketing pegs with ropes attached, so as to form a good large rectangle; in the centre of this the baggage belonging to the company was carefully piled. Every load was lifted off the yak, and left ready tied up, so that it had merely to be placed on the brute's back in the morning, for as each load was accurately balanced no further tying was necessary. Over the pile of baggage an awning was pitched, and the servants made themselves snug little shelters in the middle, where they spread their bedding. The saddles were removed from the yak, and placed near the baggage, and then the animals were sent out to graze, a certain proportion of the attendants being told off to look after them. Then, and not till then, food was prepared for the first time during the day, for to save time in the cool of the morning, when only yak can travel with any comfort, the start was always made on empty stomachs; but now the cooks had got their fires going, work was over, and the cravings of hunger could be attended to.
We had no opportunity for seeing what arrangements the lesser merchants made for rationing their own men, but they were, I imagine, the same as those made by the Kushok. His plan was as follows:—Each man was provided with a leathern bag, which held about forty pounds of tsamba, that is, twenty days' rations. On ration days this was filled up for him by the cook, and he was at liberty to eat as much or as little as he pleased. He also had butter in proportion, but whatever he chose to do with his food no more was issued till next ration day. The cook brewed tea for all the employés in a huge cauldron, and when ready he gave a peculiar cry, upon which every man came round the fire, bringing his own tsamba, butter, and perhaps a little cheese (chura), sugar, or other delicacy provided out of his own pocket. Bowls were then produced from the ample folds of the sheepskin gowns, filled up with tea by the cook, and the meal began. When satisfied, bowls were lickedperfectly clean and replaced in the gowns, and pipes produced. This took place twice a day, usually about midday and again about half-past four in the afternoon. About dusk the yak and ponies were brought in from grazing, and this, too, was a sight well worth seeing. I was enabled one day to get a photograph with the kodak, but my space does not allow me to reproduce it here. Most interesting it was to watch how cleverly a very small number of men could control a vast herd of semi-wild animals. All the herdsmen were armed with long slings, with which they slung stones or clods of earth at any stragglers, and the accuracy and strength of the practice they made, up to about seventy yards, was astonishing. Once in camp, a very few minutes sufficed for saddles to be adjusted, and for every yak to be picketed in his proper place ready for a start in the early morning. If by any chance an animal was missing, his absence was promptly discovered and reported to the Kushok ; but, while we were with them, the absentees were always brought in before nightfall.
If there was one thing more than another which aroused our wonder in connection with this caravan, it was the extraordinary knowledge the Kushok had of every little thing that went on within it. Outwardly he appeared to take scarcely any interest in anything. He rarely came outside his tent, and seemed to spend most of his time in drinking tea and praying. Nevertheless, nothing occurred without his knowledge, and he certainly had managed to inspire the lesser merchants and underlings with the greatest awe of, and respect for, himself. No doubt he was kept carefully posted in all camp details by his private servant, a regular little prying busybody; but, even allowing for that, the way he kept his subordinates in order, without appearing to know or care what went on, was very remarkable.
Another thing that surprised us considerably was the civility of everybody in the caravan. Few, if any, of themhad seen a European before, but we were strangely exempt from any offensive curiosity. Later on, in China, we often wished that we could move about with the same freedom as we had done in the Kushok's camp, and I am sure that many a foreigner in England has experienced far greater annoyance from the inquisitiveness of our fellow-countrymen than did we among these rough Tibetans. Equally strange was their respect for our property. While we had been in the wilds we had got into the way of leaving a lot of baggage outside the tent, the space inside being very limited, and to our delight we found that we could still do so with perfect safety; for, although the wholecortègepassed our tent every morning, our cartridges, ropes, saddles, tent pegs, etc., were every bit as safe lying outside as if they had been inside with us. Enough has been said of this particular caravan and of its management to show that years of experience have resulted in an almost perfect system, but a few words about these caravans in general may not be out of place here.
To begin with, on the Lhassa-Sining route there is no regularly defined road, but every year the caravans renew various old landmarks, and set up new ones on prominent features, especially in the vicinity of the camping grounds. It may sometimes occur that there is no one in a caravan who has done the journey for two or three years, and if these landmarks were not carefully kept up, great difficulty might be experienced in finding sufficient grass and water for the animals, on whom so much depends. As it is, they frequently have to make long marches from one camp to another, there being no grass between the two. The greatest distance they did while we were with them was eighteen miles, but they told us they often did twenty-five, and even more, miles in a day. One caravan only leaves from each end every year.[2]They usually start in May or the beginningof June, and arrive at their destination, whether it be Lhassa or China, in October, thus getting the warmest time of year to travel, when grass is fairly plentiful, the ice is melted, and water easily obtainable.[3]The loads are very light, rarely being over 120 pounds, and the marches are regulated entirely by the supply of grass and water. They make the yak travel a great pace, close on three and half miles an hour, so as to get in before the sun is very hot, as they say that travelling fast takes less out of them than travelling in the heat.
A caravan going from Lhassa into China brings the famous pulo cloth, and great quantities of dried dates (kasur). These come into Lhassa from Calcutta, so that by the time they reach China they are naturally very expensive, running, as they do, about fifteen for a rupee, in Chinese coinage thirty cash a-piece, or a penny each in English money. When with the caravan we bought a hundred of these dates for two rupees, and thought we had paid a most exorbitant price, but on arriving in China we learnt that we had really got them very cheap.
Caravans from China into Lhassa are mostly employed carrying tea, the main staple of food in Tibet, and a certain amount of tobacco. The reason why only one caravan goes each way in a year is, that all the merchants are very much afraid of encountering robbers on the road. They therefore prefer to wait for one another, and travel in one large body, to running the risk of being looteden route. Very often these large caravans are employed trading for the Talé Lama, or other high officials in Lhassa, but whether this is invariably the case, or whether it was so on this occasion, I am unable to say. In matters of business, as well as of geography, the Kushok and his servants were very reticent after the first day or two.
At Tankar, the frontier town of Kansu, there are four Tibetan officials appointed by the Talé Lama to look after the interests of Tibetan merchants, and to arrange any difficulties that may arise between them and the Chinese, in addition to which duty one of the four has to accompany the tribute to Pekin each year. They thus have plenty to do, as there are many Tibetans on the Chinese frontier and a big merchant, such as our acquaintance was, might stay three years or more trading in China before returning to Lhassa. During that time he is bound to come in contact with numerous officials, some of whom would undoubtedly pick quarrels with and extract undue squeezes from him, if he had no official to whom he could appeal.
On the 11th of September we found the merchants had made such a long march, that it would be wise for ourselves to make two. The day was bitterly cold, for it was the coldest march we had experienced, and during our first halt we felt the weather so severely that Malcolm and I walked on ahead, leaving the men to bring on the three mules and the pony, for the men now were quite happy and living on the fat of the land. As soon as we had reached the merchant's camp, we took shelter under one of the awnings, and beckoned to Nimbri to tell him we wanted to take tea with the merchant. Nimbri gave us to understand that if we wanted to have tea with the merchant, we must pay one rupee for the pleasure. Having produced this sum, we were soon inside the Kushok's cosy tent, warming our toes and fingers by the glowing fire as we sipped our hot tea. Our conversation without Esau was very limited; besides, as the two merchants were anxious to pray, we soon took the hint and departed.
During the days spent with the merchant, we used to payone of his servants to supply us daily with argols for our fire, although, while leading a nomad's life, we had always found an inducement and pleasure to go argol hunting. A well-dried argol was well worth finding, and we experienced the same delight as a mushroom gatherer in finding an unusually large one, or a stamp collector in discovering a rare issue.
While pursuing the caravan the next day, we noticed some yak grazing in a nullah, and only a couple of miles or so from the new camp, and I thought that if I could shoot one of these, we might induce the merchants to carry the trophy for us into China. These yak were so placed that I had no alternative left me but to walk openly up the valley they were grazing in. They took no notice of me till within 150 yards, when they began to move off, but a single shot from my carbine knocked over the largest one stone dead. I was somewhat surprised, for I considered my shot had been directed too far back. On cutting up the brute, I found I had destroyed his liver, which had been the cause of his death.
On arrival into camp, I found one of the Kushok's ponies, on which he placed a high price, was dying. In order to save the animal's life, he had bought a spoonful of brandy from Malcolm, for a pound of flour. In this transaction the merchant was certainly the loser.
We learnt that the Kushok intended to remain halted the next day. This was welcome news to us, for our three mules had not had an entire day's rest for over two months, and all our writing and mapping was behindhand. We wanted, too, to purchase more supplies, which operation with these people always took up a great deal of time. Above all things, we thought we should be able to take a number of pictures with our kodak, illustrative of typical scenes in the camp.
The day of rest was a glorious one of peace and sunshine.The smoke from the different fires curled straight up towards the heavens, and all seemed to be enjoying the quiet change. On the opposite side of the valley we could see all the hundreds of yak, resembling at that distance a large ants' nest. The morning was spent entirely in buying supplies. The prices had been raised, so that we tried to buy from some of the minor merchants. But the ever inquisitive Nimbri, on discovering this, informed his master, who, being all, powerful in the camp, forbade the selling of any supplies to us except by himself. He made himself unpleasant with regard to other small matters. We could see it was the Kushok's intention to bleed us, and we were so placed that we could not help ourselves, yet, during the morning, he sent us a special blend of tea. It was certainly first-rate, both a thick and sustaining drink. During the afternoon we managed to take some snap-shots before the members of the camp could grasp what our little game was, or, more correctly speaking, grew suspicious of our intentions.
We were all reinvigorated by the one day's halt, and at daybreak continued our descent, all the way down a magnificent gorge, the mountains on either side being very lofty and precipitous. Eventually the gorge became very narrow, before reaching a well-marked camping ground of short, green grass. We had come to a district abounding in scrub and thorn bush two or three feet high. Some of the sticks of these bushes were an inch in diameter, while the air was scented with the fragrant smell of herbs. To see vegetation, even of this barren description, was a pleasant sensation to us, for we had seen no kind of vegetation bigger than a wild onion, since leaving Niagzu, some four months ago.
After our breakfast we proceeded on our march, following the dry bed of a stream, which brought us to a river which we learnt was the Shugatza, or Shuga Gol. This, strange to say, was flowing in a nearly opposite direction to thatin which we ourselves were going, and was soon lost to view, hidden by the hills in its north-west course. On the right bank of the river, to which we had to cross, was the Kushok's camp, with the yak wandering about in the plain, which was covered with splendid grass. On the left bank was a range of hills called the Tong Hills.