Sven Anders Hedin

“ We had still a fairly long march to the camp. It grew dusk. We descended the steep slope on foot, stumbling over the rubbish and the mouse-holes. Darkness came on, but a white streak was seen in the valley, the ice of the river. The light of the camp-fire looked tempting in the cold and darkness. But nothing is so deceptive as a blaze of light in the darkness; you go on and on, but the fire seems no larger. At last, however, tired and starved, we arrived at the camp and sat as close as possible to the glowing argol, and the conversation with Muhamed Isa began—cheerful and animated, as usual. ”

“ On August 15, exactly twenty-one years had elapsed since I started on my first journey in Asia. What would the next year bring? the culminating point of my career or a retrogression? Would opposition still continue, or would the Tibetans prove more friendly than Europeans? I knew not: the future lay before me as indistinct as the Indus valley, where dark masses of cloud swept over the mountains and the rain beat on the tent canvas. We let it rain, and rejoiced to think that, if the precipitation extended far over Tibet, the pasturage would be richer and the springs would flow more freely. ”

“ Tsering and Bolu now reach the pass with the small caravan. They fall on their knees before the heap of stones and recite their prayers, and Tsering tears a strip off his ragged coat to tie as an offering on to one of the strings. We all feel as though we were on a pilgrimage. The Tibetans who let their yaks on hire see after the loading and unloading, gather fuel, and relieve the Ladakis of many of their duties. The older men of our own people are allowed to ride. They have easier work in every way, but still they are pilgrims on the way to one of the greatest centres of Lamaism. ”

“ Then we cower again over the cold ashes of our fire. We constantly look to the east and watch the new day, which slowly peeps over the mountains as though it would look about before it ventures out. At five o’clock the highest peaks receive a purple tinge, and we cast a faint shadow on the bottom of the boat, and then the sun rises, cold and bright-yellow, over the crest to the east. Now the springs of life revive. Rehim Ali has disappeared for an hour, and now we see him tramping through the swamp with a large bundle of wood, and soon we have kindled a sparkling, crackling fire. ”

“ But Rabsang, Rehim Ali, and a couple of other men listen attentively, and express their satisfaction from time to time. I join them for a while. They rise to greet me, and lay a fresh armful of dry dung cakes on the fire. The flickering flames throw a glaring light over the snow, which crunches under the feet of the men. But the brightness does not extend far, and, beyond, the darkness of night yawns on all sides. The grazing animals can neither be seen nor heard, but the snow hisses as it falls continuously into the blaze of the yak-dung fire. ”

“ Often the bottom is filled with fallen blocks, which obstruct the way, but elsewhere it is occupied by a brook, now frozen up. The rapids and waterfalls of this brook are also congealed into glassy ice, and shine with a bluish-green tinge in the depth of the valley, where the summer flood has excavated curious caves. Here the wind is confined as in a pair of bellows, and roars and whistles round the cliffs. In an expansion of the valley we kindle a fire and take a rest. Along the precipice above us six proud eagles soar with motionless wings. ”

“ Before us, to the east, we have the gardens of the villages at the foot of the mountains in the Nyang-chu valley, and behind us stretches a whole town of blue-and-white tents with spectators of more or less importance, and in the best position stands a blue-and-white tent open towards the show-ground—there sit, cross-legged, on soft rugs, the officials of the dzong in yellow raiment, solemn as statues of Buddha, and take refreshments now and again. All these tents rise like islands above the sea of heads. ”

“ Here physical laws work out their perfect complicated scheme, exacting absolute obedience. On a shelf below us a part of the 86 caravan halts and puffs; the animals appear like black spots on the snow. Up here the south-west wind enwraps us in swiftly passing clouds of whirling snowflakes.
All this agitated sea of the highest mountains in the world seems singularly uniform as the eye passes unhindered over its crests. You conceive that no summit rises above a certain maximum height, for before its head lifts itself above the crowd, wind and weather, denudation, have worn it down. ”

“ Some Tibetans had betaken themselves to Muhamed Isa’s tent to sell us horses, but when the singular darkness fell, they shook their heads and returned to their tents. The Ladakis are outside, sitting at their fire and murmuring prayers. The ravens are quiet and do not move. An eagle circles with heavy pinions close above the ground. Our sheep come in of their own accord from the pastures, just as they are wont to do in the evening, and yet the vanishing sun stands at its mid-day altitude. The puppies break off their play, creep timidly into the tent, and lie down on my bed. ”

“ On the heights above the Dras we pass the famous stone figures of Buddha, and then we descend a narrow picturesque valley to Karbu. The river constantly increases in volume, and presents a 40 grand spectacle; small affluents fall between the rocks like silver ribands, and spread out over the dejection fans. The pink blossoms of the hawthorn wave gracefully in the wind, which cools us during the hot hours of the day. Fine dark juniper bushes, tall as cypresses, adorn the right bank.
In front of the station-house in Karbu an elderly man in a white turban came up to me. ”

“ I call men to close the opening of my tent. I hear Robert raise a whoop as his airy dwelling flaps about and threatens to split up into shreds. But a dozen men set it to rights again. Then my tent is strengthened with sand heaps and boxes; I am shut in with my brazier, but a small spy-hole is left in the tent opening. The moonshine glistens on the surf of the billows rolling against the shore—a grand spectacle—wild, weird, almost theatrical in its beauty. A storm of unsurpassed violence rushes ruthlessly along. ”

“ Not infrequently we can count southwards three or four such ridges, and we have to pass over them all. We have lost ourselves in a sea of rigid undulations; we are like a ship that has lost its rudder and is on the point of sinking: no islands of refuge, no ships coming to meet us, boundless sea on all sides. We should like to pour oil on this rough sea; we long for calm waterways, but as long as a plank remains we will cling fast to it. At camp No. 40 there was good grazing, and water we could obtain from ice. ”

“ After four-and-a-half hours we are up on the small terrace-shaped halting-place, Singrul, and the bluish-grey smoke of the fires of yak dung floats over the soil, scantily carpeted with grass and traversed by a rivulet of crystal clear water. An alpine, cold, barren landscape surrounds us. Muhamed Isa sits enthroned like a pasha in his fortress of boxes and provender sacks, the usual sheep is killed and cut up, and is then thrown into the general cauldron, stomach, entrails, and everything. The head and feet are broiled before the fire on stones. ”

“ Hlaje Tsering bristled up at once and exclaimed: “To the Dangra-yum-tso? Never! The lake is holy; the mountain Targo-gangri on its southern shore is holy, and there lies the great monastery Sershik-gompa, in which influential intriguing monks dwell. Your visit to the lake would lead to complications. No, if such is your intention, I will leave only one road open to you, namely, that along the eastern side of the Ngangtse-tso. I cannot and will not compel you, but I implore you to give me your word of honour that you will not go to the Dangra-yum-tso.” ”

“ When we marched on September 22 over the old terraces of the lake and up to the threshold of the pass separating its basin from that of Yeshil-kul, the view of Lake Lighten opened up more the higher we rose, and at length the whole of the great blue lake in all its beauty lay before us at the foot of the snowy mountains. The pasturage was excellent everywhere, and the Pantholops antelopes in their surprise and perplexity often did not know in which direction to make their escape, and prompted by curiosity came thoughtlessly to meet us. ”

“ Not the cold, but the wind, kills our horses; all my people say so. Winter was coming down upon our mountains in all its severity. The rarefaction of the air and the scanty pasturage were the worst troubles.
The wind whistled mournfully round the corners as I went to sleep, and the same sound fell on my ear in the morning as Tsering, muffled up in a thick fur coat, brought the brazier in. A dreary morning! Everything in the tent was buried under a thick layer of dust and drift sand, and I was thoroughly frozen before I had dressed. ”

“ Just outside the camp the last horse that had perished lay cold and hard as ice. Tsering told me that he was scarcely a stone’s throw from the body when the wolves had already crept up to feast on it.
The ground is good, sand, dust, and fine gravel. Afterwards the soil becomes brick-red. One cannot see far, the air is hazy and the sky overcast, but as far as the sight can carry, only low mountains are visible. One or two brooks, almost frozen up, run out of side valleys on the north. We slowly ascend to a pass, whence the country eastwards seems just as level and favourable as hitherto. ”

“ In the court, round which the stables and servants’ quarters are situated, a large black watch-dog, with red eyes and a red swollen ring round his neck, is chained up, and is so savage that he has to be held while we pass. After mounting two ladder-like staircases we come to the reception-room, which is very elegant, and has square red pillars with carved capitals in green and blue. Along the walls stands a row of shrines of gilded wood with burning butter-lamps in front of them, and over them hang photographs of the Tashi Lama which were taken in Calcutta. ”

“ In the shelter of the boat I took off my Kashmir boots and my stockings, and Rehim Ali shampooed my feet, but I felt no life in them till he had opened his chapkan and warmed them for a long time against his naked body.
There was no sign of life anywhere about. Amid the roaring of the surf we had to shout to make ourselves heard. How were we to pass the night with 29 degrees of frost, and wet clothes already stiffened into cuirasses of ice? Could we keep alive till the sun rose? Rehim Ali disappears into the darkness to search for fuel, but he comes back empty-handed. ”

“ They are as cheerful and contented as though they were going to a harvest festival. From time to time Muhamed Isa’s voice growls forth like rolls of thunder, shouting out Khavass and Khabardar. We see him standing up above at the last turn up to the pass, and hear him distributing his orders from the centre of the semicircle now formed by the caravan. His sharp, practised eye takes in every horse; if a load threatens to slip down he calls up the nearest man; if there is any crowding, or a gap in the ranks, he notices it immediately. ”

“ When I halt to sketch, he takes his breakfast out of his coat, lays it out on the sand, fetches water from the river in a small bag, shakes tsamba from another into a wooden dish, pours water over it, stirs it with his forefinger and then swallows bowl after bowl of this delicious mixture. He hopes to receive so much pay, that for once he can afford himself a plentiful meal while his old woman cannot see him eat. As often as one looks at him, out shoots his tongue and hangs like a fiery red flag in the middle of his black face. ”

“ Not a wisp of cloud, not the slightest breeze—weather all the more enjoyable after the storms of the past days. The lake shone against the light turquoise-blue vault of heaven, when we looked southwards, with as bright a green as the tender foliage of birches in the spring.
For a few minutes we heard the bells of the mules as they tramped off, but the black line of the caravan soon vanished in the hilly lands along the shore. Rehim Ali rowed like a practised boatman. At the second sounding-station the depth was 115 feet, and at the third 161. ”

“ As a novice he had left for ever in childhood the free existence among the black tents and grazing herds, said farewell to the world and its vanities, and was received into a community of monks, of whom none now remained alive. He saw his elders die one after another, the young ones grow up to manhood, and new recruits come in. They wandered for a season through the temple halls, lighted the candles, and filled the water-bowls before the statues of the gods, and then passed on to other scenes on the endless road to Nirvana. ”

“ I hear Muhamed Isa’s tent flapping about; then the sound of men’s voices is heard no more, only the howling of the storm and the thunder of the waves disturb the silence of the wilderness. If I do but look out of my spy-hole I am almost suffocated by the pressure of the condensed air. Only the yaks delight in such weather; they grunt and snort with pleasure when the long black fringes of hair on their flanks flutter in the gusts. ”