Chapter XXIV: With Friends at Last

In the night a large number of horsemen arrived. There was a great commotion in the place, the people running about shouting.

Tibet is farmed out to officials who have practically become small feudal kings, and who are constantly quarrelling with one another.

To royal jealousy, and to disputes over the rights of the road, was due the appearance of the new army. There were altogether some hundred and fifty men armed with matchlocks and swords. The chieftain of this band came to me with eight or ten other officers. He spoke so excitedly that I feared there was trouble in store for us. There was indeed. These new arrivals were officers and soldiers from the districts of Gyanema, Kardam, and Barca. They had come with strict orders from the Barca Tarjum that we were on no account to traverse his province or to cross into India by the Lumpiya Pass. This was both amusing and tantalizing, for we had now no way across the frontier open to us. Our guard and some of the Jong Pen's men who had remained behind, finding they were in the minority, thought it prudent to disappear. Anxious as I naturally was to get out of the country as quickly as possible, I approved of all the Gyanema men said, and urged them to fight in case the Jong Pen insisted on my going through the Tarjum's province. All ways out of the country were now barred to us, and unless we resorted to force, I felt we would never escape at all.

The Gyanema men asked me whether I would lead them in case of a fight with the Jong Pen's soldiers. Though not overconfident in their courage, I accepted the post of general-in-chief _pro tem._, Chanden Sing and Mansing being elected there and then as my aides-de-camp. We spent the greater part of the night in arranging our plan of attack on the Jong Pen's troops. When all was properly settled, the Tibetans, to show their gratitude, brought me a leg of mutton, some _tsamba_, and two bricks of tea.

Morning came. I was given a beautiful pony to ride. Chanden Sing and Mansing were mounted on equally handsome animals. Then followed my Tibetan troops--a grand cavalcade. We started gayly toward Taklakot. We had been informed that the Jong Pen was concentrating his men at a certain point on the road, where he intended to bar our way. It was this point that we must force. My Tibetans said that they hated the Jong Pen's men, and swore they would slaughter them all if they dared to stand before us and prevent our passage.

"But they are such cowards," declared one of the Tibetan officers, "they will run away."

All this talk suddenly stopped when we heard the distant tinkling of our enemies' horse-bells. I encouraged my men as best I could, but a panic began to spread among them. The Jong Pen's men came in sight. I witnessed the strange spectacle of two armies face to face, each in mortal terror of the other.

Notwithstanding my remonstrances, matchlocks and swords were deposited on the ground with anxious eagerness by both parties, in order to show that only peaceful intentions prevailed. Then a conference was held, in which everybody seemed ready to oblige everybody else except me.

While this was still proceeding, a horseman arrived with a message from the Jong Pen, and at last, to everybody's satisfaction, permission was granted for us to proceed into Taklakot.

My army retraced its steps toward the north-west. Deposed from the high military post, which I had occupied only for a few hours, I became again a private individual and a prisoner. A large escort took us along a rocky road following the course of the Gakkon River along barren cliffs. We passed hundreds of _choktens_, large and small, mostly painted red, and _mani_ walls. Then, having descended by a precipitous track on whitish clay-soil, we reached a thickly inhabited district, where stone houses were scattered all over the landscape. We saw on our left the large monastery of Delaling, and, a little way off, the Gomba of Sibling. Describing a sweeping curve among rocks and bowlders, we rounded the high, graceful cliff, on the top of which towered the fort and monasteries of Taklakot.

Such was our anxiety, when we reached this point, lest something should happen and we should be taken back again by another route, that as soon as we were across the wooden bridge over the Gakkon River, Chanden Sing and I, on perceiving the large Shoka encampment at the foot of the hill, lashed our ponies and ran away from our guard. Galloping our hardest along the high cliff, riddled with holes and passages in which the natives live, we found ourselves at last among friends again. The Shokas, who had come over to this market to exchange their goods with the Tibetans, were astounded when they saw us. They recognized us with great difficulty.

We inquired at once for Doctor Wilson. When we found him the good man could hardly recognize us, so changed were we. He seemed deeply moved at our pitiable condition.

When the news of our arrival spread in camp, we met with the greatest kindness at the hands of everybody. In a corner of Wilson's tent was a large quantity of candied sugar--several pounds. So famished was I that I threw myself on it and quickly devoured the lot. Later, my Shoka friends brought in all kinds of presents in the shape of eatables, and Rubso, the doctor's cook, was set to prepare an elaborate meal.

The British Political Frontier Officer, Karak Sing, hurried to me with a change of clothes. Other garments were given me by Doctor Wilson. My own ragged attire was literally swarming with vermin. Our guard had not allowed us a single change of clothes, nor would they even hear of our washing daily. It was by a special favor, and merely on account of its sanctity, that we were allowed to plunge into the sacred Mansarowar Lake.

Later in the day my wounds and injuries were examined by Doctor Wilson, who sent official reports to the Government of India.

Tenderly nursed by Wilson and Karak Sing, and having partaken of plenty of good food, my spirits, which had fallen rather low, revived as by magic. After a few hours of happiness, I was already beginning to forget the hardships and sufferings I had endured. I remained three days at Taklakot, during which time part of my confiscated baggage was returned to me by the Tibetans. I was overjoyed to discover that among the things thus recovered were my diary, note-books, maps, and sketches. My firearms, most of my money, the gold ring credited with wonderful powers, several mathematical instruments, collections, over four hundred photographic negatives, and various other articles were still missing,[15] but I was glad to get back as much as I did.

To Doctor Wilson's tent came the Tokchim Tarjum, his private secretary, Nerba, whom the reader may remember as having played an important part in my tortures, the Jong Pen's secretary, and Lapsang in his handsome green velvet coat with ample sleeves. These Tibetan officials admitted before the Political Officer, Doctor Wilson, Pundit Gobaria, and many Shokas, and even professed to be proud of what they had done to me. They used expressions not at all flattering to the British Government, for which they seemed to entertain great contempt.

I nearly got the Political Officer and the doctor into a scrape. My blood, the little I had left, was boiling with rage at hearing the Tibetan insults. The climax came when Nerba refused to give back my mother's ring, which he had upon him. In a passion I seized a knife that was lying by me, and leaped upon Nerba, the ruffian who had once fired at me, and had held me by the hair while my eyes were being injured, as well as during the preliminaries for my execution. Wilson and Karak Sing checked me, and took the knife out of my hand. There was a general stampede of the Tibetan officers, and our interview and negotiations were brought to an abrupt end.

In further conversation I learned how my release had been brought about. Doctor Wilson and the Political Agent, having received news that my servants and myself had been beheaded, proceeded across the frontier to make inquiries and to try to recover my property. They heard only on arrival at Taklakot from the man Suna, whom I had sent from Mansarowar with my message, that I was still alive and a prisoner, covered with wounds, in rags, and starving. They had not enough men to force their way farther into the country to come and meet me. Besides, the Tibetans watched them carefully. Together with the influential Pundit Gobaria they made strong representations to the Jong Pen of Taklakot. By threatening him that an army would be sent to my rescue if I were not set at liberty, they at last obtained from the reluctant Tibetan potentate permission that I should be brought into Taklakot. The permission was afterward withdrawn, but was at last allowed to be carried into execution. It was entirely due to the good offices and energy of these three men that I was brought back alive.

Pundit Gobaria was the most influential Shoka chief and trader on our frontier in Bhot. He was on very friendly terms with the Tibetans and was the intermediary through whom negotiations were carried on for my immediate release. It was largely owing to his advice to the Jong Pen that the negotiations led to satisfactory results.

After a short rest to recover sufficient strength, I recommenced my journey toward India. Having crossed the Lippu Pass (16,780 feet) I found myself at last on British soil again. We descended by slow stages to Gungi, where, in Doctor Wilson's dispensary, I had to halt for a few days on account of my weak condition.

Wilson had here a quantity of my baggage, instruments, cameras, plates, etc., which I had discarded at the beginning of my journey. They came handy. I had photographs taken of my two servants and myself, showing our wounds and general condition. In the full-face photograph, reproduced in this book, can be noticed the injuries to my left eye, as well as the marks of the hot-iron torture on the skin of my forehead and nose. I could see comparatively well with my right eye, but was unable to use the left eye at all.

The injuries to my spine were severe, and gave me much trouble. At times the whole of my left side became as if paralyzed. I experienced great difficulty in sitting down when I had been standing, and in getting up when I had been sitting down. Through the great strain they had undergone, my joints were stiff and swollen, and remained so for several months.

I was anxious to return to Europe as soon as possible. From Gungi and Garbyang I travelled down to Askote in the company of the Political Agent. The Nerpani road had fallen in two or three places. Rough, shaky bridges had been constructed across the deep precipices. We met with a hearty reception everywhere, and kindness was showered upon us by all alike.

At Askote I met Mr. J. Larkin, hastily dispatched by the Government of India to the frontier to conduct an inquiry into my case. Though still suffering much pain, I insisted on turning back once more toward Tibet to help him in his task. By quick marches we reached Garbyang and climbed toward the snows. We intended crossing over the Lippu Pass into Tibet to give the Jong Pen an opportunity of being interviewed. The Tibetan official refused to meet us.

In order to give the Tibetans every chance, we climbed over the Lippu Pass. It had been snowing heavily, and it was very cold. A Shoka had only a few days previously been frozen to death in the snow trying to cross over the pass. There were some twelve feet of snow, and the ascent was not easy. Toiling for two hours from our last camp on the mountain-side, we reached the summit of the pass. I was once more in Tibet. Doctor Wilson, the Political Agent, and others were with us. Having found a suitable spot where the wind did not cut quite so furiously into our faces, we halted for a considerable time and waited impatiently on the Tibetan side of the boundary for the Jong Pen or his deputies, to whom letters had been sent asking them to come and meet us. They did not put in an appearance.

In the afternoon of October 12th I finally turned my back on the Forbidden Land. I was still far from well, but was glad indeed at the prospect of seeing England and my friends again.

We returned to our camp, a few hundred feet lower than the pass, where we had left our baggage and many of our men who were laid up with mountain sickness.

Having fulfilled our mission, Mr. Larkin and I returned by quick marches to Almora. In conducting the inquiry for the British Government, Mr. Larkin obtained at the frontier ample testimony of what had occurred. A full report was sent to the Government of India, and to the Foreign Office and India Office in London. A copy of the Government Report will be found in the Appendix.

Winter setting in, the Shokas, who had then all returned from Tibet, were beginning to migrate to their winter homes lower down on the mountains. When we passed the settlement many were already at work repairing the fallen-down roofs of their winter habitations. A large number of Tibetans with their sheep had also come over to spend the winter on British territory. Their encampments could be seen all along the road wherever there was sufficient grass for their flocks. The Tibetans--Lamas and officials--maintained a high-handed and insolent demeanor as long as we were in Bhot, which they regarded as part of their own country, but which was in reality British soil. It must, however, be said for them that the moment they came out of Bhot, and had to deal with Hindoos instead of Shokas, their manner changed considerably. Servility took the place of haughtiness and insolence.

We proceeded with no delay to Almora, and from there to Naini Tal, the summer seat of the Government of the North-West Provinces and Oudh. At the latter place a conference was held on my case by the Lieutenant-Governor.

I paid off my faithful coolie Mansing, giving him enough for a start in life. He accompanied me to Kathgodam, the northern terminus of the railway. Genuine grief showed on his face when Chanden Sing and I stepped into the train. He begged that, if ever I should go back to Tibet, I must take him with me; only next time he, too, must be provided with a rifle! That was the only condition. As the train steamed away from the platform, he waved his hand affectionately.

Chanden Sing, who remained as my servant, travelled with me to Bombay, and from there we went direct to Florence, the home of my parents, who had suffered in their anxiety at home almost as much as I did in the Forbidden Land.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 15: Some of the articles missing were some months later recovered by the Government of India.]