CHAPTER LXVIII

HIS EXCELLENCY THE GOVERNOR OF SAKA

On April 25 we rode in a compact body to the mouth of a valley east of Chomo-uchong, called Radak. Six Tibetans guarded me on both sides, and our journey had some resemblance to a convict train. Now I was not obliged to dismount before we passed a tent. On the left hand was a large open plain where Raga-tasam is situated. A shot was heard in the deserted country, and Rindor sent two men to see what it was. An antelope hunter! He was arrested and beaten; for the Government, at ecclesiastical instigation, had forbidden the extinction of life for three years, except in the case of sheep and yaks. I was reminded of the agreement to forbid Europeans to travel in Tibet for three years.

Now I drew my map of the route, took compass bearings, and sketched a panorama quite at my ease. The Tibetans wondered at me and questioned me, but did not trouble themselves much about my work. And I had plenty of time to think of the line of policy I should adopt during the following negotiations. I knew that they would urge me to return by the way I had come, through Bongba, or by the road I had taken to Ladak the year before. For my part, I had now had enough of Tibet and I longed to get home, and wished to avoid routes that involved loss of time and that I knew already. Now I only wished to travel to India _viâ_ Shigatse and Gyangtse, and I would try to obtain permission to travel to these towns by roads where no one had been before. After the excitement in which we had lived so long came a reaction. I was worn-out, weary, and indifferent to everything except the nearest way home. Therefore I sat down and wrote a letter of fifteen pages to Lien Darin, referred to his friendly letter sent to Gartok, gave an account of our last journey, pointed out to him that no Great Power could take it amiss if I travelled out of the country through Gyangtse, promised that in return I would give him information about the occurrences of gold and salt I had seen, and about the measures which should be taken for the promotion of sheep-breeding,--all natural resources, which would contribute to the advancement of China's newest province, Tibet. And I concluded my letter with wishes for the happiness and prosperity of Lien Darin himself and peace to his forefathers' graves.

I did not doubt a moment that he would give his consent to such a modest request, and I saw in my mind's eye the dramatic scene when I should make my first call on Major O'Connor in Tibetan dress, and have a little fun with him before I made myself known. But I may as well say at once that this long epistle to Lien Darin was never sent. My opponent's tactics lured me to a contest in which he was checkmated in two moves. My merit was as little now as formerly; I was always a marionette, and the hands which held the strings hung over the paths where the clouds and stars move.

In the evening I had a visit from Pemba Tsering and Kamba Tsenam. The former was much more gentle and friendly than the year before; the latter was a great humorist, who did not seem at all annoyed that he had omitted to close the bag when he had us in it, and had let a valuable booty fall into the hands of another. They had heard of my adventurous voyages on Tso-mavang, and were astonished that I had escaped with my life.

Two short days' marches took us over the pass Kule-la and down to the valley where Semoku stands on the great high-road. Here stood some scattered tents, and the Governor and his colleagues had established themselves in the small stone house of the station. All the more important posts in Tibet are entrusted to two gentlemen: thus, for example, there are always two garpuns or viceroys in Gartok, a system adopted with the intention that one shall control the other or shall inform of the other if he is guilty of any roguery. In Saka-dzong, however, the one governor seemed to be of higher rank than the other; at any rate, he conducted all the negotiations as though he possessed greater authority.

As soon as we were ready Rindor and two other men came into my tent and brought a message from the Governor that he awaited me in the station-house. I answered, that if he wanted anything of me he might come to my tent. It was not long before a party of men crossed the hundred yards between our dwellings. I went out to meet them, invited them to come in and sit down as far as the space allowed, took up my position on my bed, and had before me three gentlemen, namely, Dorche Tsuen, _pun_ or Governor of Saka-dzong (Illust. 327), Ngavang, his colleague, and Oang Gye, his eighteen-year-old son (Illust. 331). A crowd of servants, nomads, and soldiers massed together at the tent door.

Pun Dorche Tsuen is an unusually tall Tibetan, forty-three years old, of sympathetic and refined appearance, dressed in a Chinese costume of silk, with a small silk cap on his head, a pigtail behind, and velvet boots. He is a man of wealth, owning large flocks in the province over which he rules and a stone house in Lhasa, his home, for he is an _upa_ or domiciled inhabitant of the province U, the capital of which is Lhasa. There dwell three of his four sons, and one of them is a young lama. His wife has been dead some years.

Ngavang, his coadjutor, is a little, fat, kindly man in Tibetan costume, but with a Chinese cap and pigtail. Oang Gye wears his hair in Tibetan fashion, wears no head-covering, and, like his father, is exceedingly sympathetic and good-natured.

"I hope that you have had a successful journey and have not suffered much from cold," said Dorche Tsuen.

"Oh, it was cold, and we have lost our caravan, our clothes are in rags, and our provisions are at an end, but, as you see, that is of no consequence to us."

"At the time of your visit to Saka-dzong last year I was in Tsonka, but I received an account of your movements. You were sent away. Why have you come back again?"

"To visit the districts I was then prevented from seeing. I am ashamed to have given you the trouble of coming here from Saka-dzong. I hope that we shall soon come to an agreement about the route I am to take in order to leave the country."

Now I should have to play my cards well. I had changed my mind during the last few days. I had rested, the reaction after the excitement of travelling in disguise had passed away, and I was exceedingly eager to attempt some new discoveries before I gave up the game. I had, it is true, succeeded in making a very valuable traverse across Bongba. I had travelled straight across the word "Unexplored" on the latest English map of Tibet--yea, I had passed between the _p_ and _l_, so that "unexp" lay on the west side of my route and "lored" on the east (see Map 1, Vol. I.). But I had left quite untouched two extensive stretches of the large blank patch, and I dreamed of nothing else than to cross Bongba again by two fresh routes. It would certainly take four or five months to return to India after a northerly zigzag course, instead of a couple of weeks if I made for British territory through Gyangtse, as I intended at first. But if I succeeded in making the northerly detour I should carry home material of perhaps greater value than the discoveries already made. Dorche Tsuen answered with firm decision:

"As to your way back, I will tell you at once: not a step further east; my head depends on it. Here you see the order I received a couple of days ago from the Devashung. I will read it to you. Last year you travelled without leave to Nepal, to Kubi-gangri, across the holy lake, round Kang-rinpoche, and to Yumba-matsen. I know exactly where you went. You cannot do the same this year. It is probably in consequence of your journey in all sorts of forbidden directions that the Devashung has distributed through the country instructions regarding Europeans. Two officials have recently been sent from Lhasa to Shansa-dzong to see that no European approaches the holy city from Naktsang. Some time ago a Chinese officer with 200 soldiers was moved to Tingri to guard the country from intrusion from the south. Not even a Gurkha or a Hindu can now travel in Tibet without especial permission. The other day I received a letter from the Chinese frontier official in Tingri which I will read to you. As you see, he orders me to force any European who may come to Saka from the north to return in his own footsteps. If he refuses, I have to send off a messenger to Tingri, and shall receive assistance in a few days from the soldiers stationed there. Times are changed in Tibet. If you will not listen to me and travel back by the way you came, I will send a messenger to Tingri. But, like you, I hope that we shall come to an agreement without unpleasantness and outside interference."

My next move was a feint, namely, to try for the Gyangtse route; I would in the end conform to his wishes and give up the Gyangtse route under the condition that I should not be compelled to travel along roads I knew already. I pointed out how near we were to Gyangtse, and how easily he would get rid of me if I went thither, but nothing made any impression on him. He only answered, "All that is true, but the road is closed to you."

"Well, I will give it up for your sake, but only on condition that you forward a letter from me to the British Trade Agent in Gyangtse. You can understand that my family are disturbed at my long absence and are looking for news of me."

"Yes, I can understand that, but I regret to say that I cannot forward your correspondence. All the authorities in Tibet are strictly forbidden to assist a European in any way, as he has no right to travel in the country."

"You will perhaps allow two of my own servants to carry a letter from me to Gyangtse?"

"No, never!"

"Well, at least, you can inform the Devashung of my arrival, and ask the Government to send notice of it to Gyangtse."

"I sent a messenger to the Devashung as soon as I received the letter from Rindor. They will know in Lhasa in a few days that you are come here again."

I had never induced any Tibetan magistrate to forward my letters. That Dorche Tsuen refused to do me such a trifling service had the deplorable consequence that my family did not receive any reliable report of me till September, and therefore supposed that some misfortune had befallen me. Instead of reaching the frontier in a couple of weeks, I was sent back again into the silence of Tibet, and the waves washed again over our track. But I took it for granted that news of our arrival on the _tasam_ would penetrate to Gyangtse both officially and through reports, and would then be made known everywhere. Such, however, was not the case, and after we left the _tasam_ our fate was buried in the same complete silence as before.

"No, Hedin Sahib," Dorche Tsuen cried out, "the only way open to you is the one by which you came from the north."

"I will never travel by that road. It is no use talking about it."

"You must."

"You cannot force me to do so. To begin with, I will not let you know which way I came, and I travelled in disguise."

"It does not matter. It is very well known that you came from the Samye-la and the Kinchen-la. Beyond that the escort I shall send with you will ask the way from tent to tent."

"The nomads will answer that they have seen no Ladakis, for fear of being punished."

"I shall find means of making them confess more than you think."

"You can kill me if you like, but you shall never force me to travel over the Samye-la. Remember that I am a European and a friend of the Tashi Lama. You may lose your button."

Much disturbed, Dorche Tsuen conferred in whispers with Ngavang.

"I will give way so far for your sake that I will allow you to return to Ladak by the same road you followed last year, through Tradum, Tuksum, Shamsang, Parka, and Gartok."

That was the very solution I most feared. If there were any road in all Tibet that I wished to avoid at any cost it was the road to Ladak. I answered:

"Never! Not a step on the great high-road to Ladak!"

"But why? You ought to be thankful for so great a concession."

"It is forbidden by the laws of my country for a man to return in his own footsteps. You can cut my throat, but you will not force me to do anything of the sort."

"You must have strange laws in your country. May I hear which way you really wish to take?"

"I have already said through Gyangtse. You refused and I understand your motive. You have urged me to go back to the north. Even in this respect I will conform to your wishes, but only on the condition that I am not obliged to retrace my steps. I will go over another pass east of the Samye-la and northwards to the Teri-nam-tso and then westwards by the shortest way out of Tibet."

"That is not to be thought of. But let us take the matter quietly. Will you agree to accompany me to Kamba Tsenam's tent, four days' journey from here? You have been there already, and before we reach it we shall have come to some understanding."

"Yes, willingly."

Opposition spurred me on. It now became a point of honour to win a new game of chess. My position was very strong. The _tasam_ was eliminated. If I could only cross the Trans-Himalaya by a more easterly pass, I should by some ruse or other gain the Teri-nam-tso, Mendong-gompa, the lower Buptsang-tsangpo, the Tarok-tso, Selipuk, and an eighth Trans-Himalayan pass. Yes, now I must, if ever, play my cards well. I still felt young and strong. The political entanglement which encompassed me on all sides in Tibet rendered it difficult for me to make geographical discoveries, but it stimulated my ambition. Therefore I remember with particular warmth and sympathy all those who, in virtue of their temporary power in the world, sought to raise obstacles in my way.

We then talked on various subjects. He wished to see our weapons, and asked if he could buy a revolver. "No; you shall have it as a present, cartridges and all, if you will let me go the way I have proposed."

"H'm!"

"You must procure us all the provisions we need for two months, besides new shoes, clothing, tobacco, horses, mules, yaks."

"With pleasure; make out a list of all you want."

It was done at once. Meal, _tsamba_, tea, sugar, Japanese cigarettes, which were said to be procurable--all was to be brought from Tsongka, whither mounted men were sent the same day across the Tsangpo and over the Nevu-la. Everything was to be in our tents in a week. The rest could be obtained from Saka-dzong. In the evening I paid an equally long return visit to my valiant friend Pun Dorche Tsuen, and at night I consigned my letter to Lien Darin to the flames. Ah no! no Chinese interference in Tibeto-Swedish affairs.

On the 28th we remained quiet and visited one another by the hour together. The two governors sat on benches fastened to the wall, Rindor and Oang Gye on mats on the floor, and all four played at dice. The two dice were shaken in a wooden bowl, and turned out on to a round piece of skin. The markers were small Indian snailshells. Then they played with Chinese dominoes. Meanwhile they drank tea, smoked pipes, sang, joked, laughed, and moved the bricks with wonderful and graceful dexterity. Ngavang won ten _tengas_ and was greatly elated. In this way they pass the time when the day's work is done. Rindor is the Governor's private secretary, and on a bench and a table lay piles of documents and letters, written on coarse Chinese paper, and folded up one on another. The Governor's correspondence now comes to Semoku, and his daily work must run its course. His province, Saka, is very extensive, and he states with some pride that his power stretches to Sangsang in the east, to the Nevu-la in the south, to the Marium-la in the west, and northwards some days' journey beyond Kamba Tsenam's tent.

The illustrious gentlemen were much amused with my costume. "You are a Sahib," they said; "you were for six weeks the guest of the Tashi Lama; you employ one caravan after another, and leave a quantity of money behind you, and yet are dressed more shabbily than any of your servants."

At night their horses and mules were driven to the station-house by soldiers, and we ought to have taken the same precaution, for our horses were attacked by wolves. The brown horse we had bought two weeks before for 100 rupees had his two right feet tied together lest he should run away, and the wolves directed their attack on him, as he could not escape, ate him up, and took the head off with them. At any rate it was missing in the morning from the skeleton, which was pretty closely stripped.

On April 29 we rode together on the road down the Semoku valley, which runs to the upper Brahmaputra (Illust. 335). This we left on the left hand, as well as the _tasam_, and ascended a valley where the little village of Ushy with its stone huts and barley fields is situated. The 150 inhabitants are at home only at seedtime and harvest; the rest of the year they are away, tending their sheep. Thence we proceeded the following day to the pass Ushy-la. The way is marked by a succession of _mani_ heaps and _chhortens_, and the pass by rods so thin as to be invisible at a distance, and the streamers they carry look like a flock of tied birds. A little farther to the north-west we crossed the pass Gye-la, where Chomo-uchong makes a fine display, and soon after we were on the main pass of the same name (16,135 feet). From a hill near, the eye can sweep over all the horizon, the peaks and glaciers of the Himalayas, Chomo-uchong, and close at hand to the south-south-east the Brahmaputra valley with the river meandering in several arms. We encamped on the bank of the Sachu-tsangpo, which flows into the Chaktak-tsangpo west of Saka-dzong. Here also lies a votive block of a hard green rock, covered with offerings, bits of butter, and streamers.

The 1st of May was celebrated by a march over the Lamlung-la, a difficult pass, on the saddle of which, 16,791 feet high, the traveller is again rewarded by a magnificent view over this complicated sea of mountains. From here Chomo-uchong's seven summits appear in a compact group; the central one is of a regular conical shape and is pure white all over; the others consist chiefly of black cliffs and projections, from among which issue small blue-tinged glaciers. The length of the massive corresponds to that of Lunpo-gangri, of which it is a continuation.

In the Namchen valley our united camp formed quite a little village, for all the chiefs of the country were convened to a consultation. And here it was that Rindor and Pemba Tsering joined us with all the goods we had ordered from Saka-dzong. We stayed here two days. The weather was raw and chilly, and the temperature constantly fell to 8.2°. There was no spring as yet. But the wild-geese were on their migration, and when Tubges once shot a gander at a neighbouring brook, Oang Gye came to complain to me. He was quite overcome at this brutal murder, and could not conceive how my servant could be so heartless and cruel.

"You are right," I answered; "I am myself sorry for the wild-geese. But you must remember that we are travellers, and dependent for our livelihood on what the country yields. Often the chase and fishing are our only resources."

"In this district you have plenty of sheep."

"Is it not just as wrong to kill sheep and eat their flesh?"

"No!" he exclaimed, with passionate decision; "that is quite another matter. You surely will not compare sheep to wild-geese. There is as much difference between them as between sheep and human beings. For, like human beings, the wild-geese marry and have families. And if you sever such a union by a thoughtless shot, you cause sorrow and misery. The goose which has just been bereaved of her mate will seek him fruitlessly by day and night, and will never leave the place where he has been murdered. Her life will be empty and forlorn, and she will never enter upon a new union, but will remain a widow, and will soon die of grief. A woman cannot mourn more deeply than she will, and the man who has caused such sorrow draws down a punishment on himself."

The excellent Oang Gye was quite inconsolable. We might shoot antelopes, wild sheep, and partridges as much as ever, if only we left the wild-geese in peace. I had heard in the Lob country similar tales of the sorrow of the swans when their union was dissolved by death. It was moving to witness Oang Gye's tenderness and great sympathy for the wild-geese, and I felt the deepest respect for him. Many a noble and sensitive heart beats in the cold and desolate valleys of Tibet.