Mount Everest the Reconnaissance, 1921 Part 3

[Ill.u.s.tration: KHAMBA DZONG.]

Chapter III

FROM KHAMBA DZONG THROUGH UNKNOWN COUNTRY TO TINGRI

Our camp at Khamba Dzong[3] was pitched in a walled enclosure at the foot of the fort, built on a great crag that rose 500 feet sheer above us. They called this enclosure a Bagichah, or garden, because it once boasted of three willow trees. Only one of these three is alive to-day, the other two being merely dead stumps of wood. The Jongpen here, who was under the direct orders of Shigatse, was very friendly, and after our arrival presented us with five live sheep, a hundred eggs, and a small carpet which he had had made in his own factory in the fort. Next afternoon Morshead, Wollaston and myself went up to pay the Jongpen a visit in his fort. It was a steep climb from our camp, past long Mendongs or Mani walls covered with inscribed prayers. The Jongpen was at the entrance waiting to receive us. He then showed us over his stables, where he had several nice Tibetan ponies, which strongly objected to Europeans and lashed out fiercely as we approached them.

After looking at them we went up many flights of most dangerously steep stairs, almost in pitch darkness the whole time, until we came to a small courtyard. Then after climbing up more steps, we were ushered into a small latticed room where we were given the usual Tibetan tea and sweetmeats. I presented the Jongpen with one of the new lever electric torches, with which he was much pleased, saying it would be of much use to him in going up and down his dark staircases. After tea he took us up on to the roof of the fort, which was quite flat, and from which we had a most magnificent view. We stood on the top of a great precipice and looked straight down at our camp, which lay many hundred feet below but almost within a stone's throw. From here too we could look across the wide plains and valleys of the Yaru and its tributaries to the main chain of the Himalayas which formed the Southern boundary to the picture. From this side they do not appear nearly as imposing as they do when seen from the South. Seen as they are from a height of over 15,000 feet, the distance to the sky line is not nearly so great, and as a rule we found the Northern slopes to be much less steep than those on the Southern side. The snow line, too, was also several thousand feet higher. Every day great ma.s.ses of moist c.u.mulus clouds came rolling up and round the peaks to the South of us, indicating heavy falls of rain and snow on the South, but very little of this came over the watershed--only an occasional slight hailstorm or a few drops of rain.

From this point we could see as far West as Mount Everest, still over a hundred miles away. After spending some time up there and admiring and discussing the view, we descended once more into the fort, where the Jongpen showed us some of the carpets that his womenfolk were busy making and promised to have some ready for us by the time that we came back. We also much admired the curious old locks by which the doors and boxes were fastened; before leaving, he made me a present of one of these locks.

[3] Dzong means fort.

June 7 saw us still at Khamba Dzong, as the transport would not be ready till the following day. Raeburn, who for some time had been suffering from the same complaint as Dr. Kellas, was unfortunately getting no better and was getting weaker every day. We were therefore reluctantly compelled to send him back again into Sikkim to Lachen, where he could be taken charge of by the lady missionaries and properly looked after.

Wollaston and Gyalzen Kazi were to accompany him down to Lachen, and if possible to rejoin us by the time that we got to Tingri. This break-up of our climbing party was most annoying and seriously weakened our party, obliging us to alter our plans for reconnoitring in a thorough manner the various approaches to Mount Everest. The following day, after a good deal of delay and argument about the loads, we got everything loaded up and started off for Lingga, a march of about 16 miles to the West. For the first few miles we rode across a great plain on which were several small herds of goa, but these were very wary and kept well out of shot. The path then took us alongside a small isolated rocky hill in which we kept putting up numerous hares who often got up right under our ponies' feet. We crossed the Yaru River, now only a small stream, at the picturesque village of Mende with its fine willow trees, and then after pa.s.sing over a spur, formed of slaty rock, we descended into another great plain which extended all the way to Tingri. Five miles across this plain was the village of Lingga, surrounded by marshes and ponds, with barley fields and rich gra.s.s growing between the patches of water. There were several other villages in sight, so that the plain was evidently fertile and could support a considerable population. This was the first place where we became bothered by sand flies, which in the morning were very troublesome; but when the wind got up, as it always did in the afternoons, it blew them away, and for once was welcome. The villagers were very hospitable; they produced tea and beer brewed from barley for us as soon as we arrived there. The latter is quite a pleasant drink on a hot day, but it did not agree with my inside at all. The people here had never seen a European before, and though at first inclined to be rather shy, they soon became very friendly and curious. Some pieces of silver paper from chocolates quite won the hearts of the children who flocked around and did not in the least mind being photographed. To the South extended the chain of snows of the main range of the Himalayas, and on the way we had several clear and distinct views of Mount Everest.

Morshead, who had left the day before, was camped at a small monastery a few miles to the North of us in order to follow the crest of the ridge of hills and to survey both sides, but was to join us again at Tinki.

The weather now was really delightful, though to the South of us we still saw heavy clouds which brought showers of snow as far as the mountains, but they did not reach us.

From here to Tinki was about 13 miles over a perfectly level plain. The midges or sand flies were very troublesome the whole way and came in hundreds round one's head, got inside one's topee, and were thoroughly objectionable. The plain appeared very fertile, as there seemed to be plenty of water and great herds of yaks and flocks of sheep were grazing upon it. In the marshes and ponds were many bar-headed geese, Brahminy ducks, mallard and teal. After the rains, it is evident that a great part of this plain is under water. About a couple of miles from Tinki we crossed some curious sand dunes, about 20 feet high, which are evidently on the move, and soon afterwards the Jongpen of Tinki came riding out to meet us with a few mounted followers, he himself riding a fine white pony. He was very Chinese in appearance, wearing finely embroidered silks with a Chinese hat and a long pigtail, and his manners were excellent. He escorted us to the place where our camp was to be, and had had three or four tents already pitched for us. Tea and country beer were at once served, and we rested in the shade of his Chinese tents until our transport arrived.

[Ill.u.s.tration: TINKI DZONG.]

We were encamped in a very picturesque spot beside a large pond that was full of bar-headed geese, Brahminy ducks and terns. On the opposite side of this pond rose the walls and towers of the fort of Tinki. As soon as we had settled down, the Jongpen came again to pay us a formal visit, presented us with four sheep and a couple of hundred eggs and promised to do everything he could to help us and to forward us on our way. Half a mile above us was a large village and a big monastery belonging to the Yellow Sect of Buddhists who also owned a fine grove of willows. The bottom of the valley was all covered with barley fields, now a tender green and coming up well. As the fresh transport had not arrived, we had to spend the following day there. This gave an opportunity for Abdul Jalil, our photographic a.s.sistant, to rejoin us. We had sent him back to Phari in order to change some more rupees into Tibetan currency, as we found that Indian notes or rupees were not accepted any further to the West. Abdul Jalil had been very nervous about travelling with so much money and had borrowed a revolver and a rifle from members of the Expedition besides two large Tibetan swords and a dagger which he obtained from the Jongpen. In the morning, with Bullock, I went to return the call of the Jongpen. His fort at the time was under repair, so he was living in a small house outside the main building. He was very affable and gave us tea: we were then able to make all the arrangements for transport except the actual fixing of the price. For this he said he would have to consult his head-men. Just as we were about to leave he insisted on our eating the large meal which he had had prepared for us.

He gave us small dishes of excellent macaroni and mince, seasoned up with chillies and very well cooked--much better than anything our cooks could produce. This we had to eat with chopsticks--a somewhat difficult proceeding, as we were not yet used to them. Later on, however, after much practice, we found no difficulty in consuming the numerous bowls of this excellent dish that the Tibetans always set before one. The Jongpen told us that he had been twenty-nine years in Government service, and he was expecting to have a better post than this shortly. His health was poor and he said he had been suffering much from indigestion, so I gave him some pills and tabloids, for which he was very grateful. On the return journey, he told me that he had greatly benefited by my treatment. The bar-headed geese and the wild duck here were extraordinarily tame, allowing us to approach within five yards of them and showing no signs of fear. They would come and waddle round our tents, picking up any sc.r.a.ps of food. The Jongpen had begged us not to shoot or kill any of them, as he said a Lama had been sent specially from Lhasa some years ago in order to tame the creatures, and certainly the result was extraordinary; it was most interesting to watch these birds, ordinarily so wild, from so close a distance. In the evening the Jongpen came over to see us again, and after a good hour's bargaining over the price of the transport, we finally reached a reasonable and amicable agreement. Every evening, to the South of us, there were constant flashes of lightning all along the horizon. In the morning I woke up to the unusual sound of drops of rain, but this only lasted for five minutes and then cleared up, though the sky remained clouded all the morning. There was the usual fighting and confusion about the loads, each person trying to get the lightest loads for his own animal. The result was that there was much talking and fighting, and nothing was actually done until some head-man would come and take control and decide the dispute. The method of adjudication was as follows:--From each of the families who were regarded as responsible for the supply of a transport animal was taken one of the embroidered garters by which the man's felt boots are kept in their place. These garters were shuffled, as one might shuffle a pack of cards, after which a single garter was laid upon each load. The family to which the garter belonged thereupon became responsible for that load and had to pack it upon the animal's back. Although we had only ninety animals, there were forty-five different families supplying them.

The march from Tinki to Chushar Nango was about 14 miles and was up the valley behind Tinki to the Tinki Pa.s.s. On the way we pa.s.sed well-irrigated fields of barley and then climbed up a spur covered with a small yellow cistus. After this a long gentle pull brought us to the top of the pa.s.s, 17,100 feet. There was a very fine view from here to the East looking over Tinki and Khamba Dzong and along the Northern slopes of the Himalayas. I climbed up a hill about 600 feet above the pa.s.s, whence I had a more extensive view still. I could see far away to the East to Ch.o.m.olhari, while in the foreground was the large and picturesque lake called Tsomotretung backed by the rugged chain of peaks that separated us from the valley of the Brahmaputra. To the West we looked down into the valley of the Yaru, which flowed gently through a broad and flat valley. To the South-west was a range of sharp granite peaks rising up to 22,000 feet, which ran North and South and forced the Yaru to flow round them before it could find its way into Nepal. The descent from the pa.s.s was much steeper. We pa.s.sed many of our old friends the pink trumpet-shaped flowers, also a curious white and pink flower, rather like a daphne in shape, and smelling very sweetly, which grew in ma.s.ses along the path. It was evidently poisonous as no animal would touch it. I picked some flowers of it and put them in my b.u.t.tonhole, but was warned by the Tibetans not to do so, as they said it was poisonous and would give me a headache. Lower down the valley was full of small dwarf gorse bushes--1 foot to 18 inches high--which carpeted the ground. Everywhere were flocks of sheep and cattle grazing in the valley. Our camp was pitched on a gra.s.sy flat just below the village of Chushar Nango with its fine old ruined tower of stone with machicolated galleries all round it. To the South of us was the Nila Pa.s.s, which afforded an easy way into Nepal. The climate here was fairly warm, but the wind blew very strongly all that evening. Next day we saw the mountains all covered with fresh snow down to 16,000 feet, but we only experienced a slight drizzle as most of the snowflakes evaporated before they reached the ground, though clouds remained overhead all the morning. Morshead and his surveyors had been kept very busy up till now surveying and plotting in the intervening country from the tops of the hills, but owing to the clouds they were unable to do anything. We were all very late in starting, as our transport animals had been changed and the yaks that were supplied to us were very wild. In the first few minutes after starting we saw the plain strewn with our kits and stores, and yaks careering off in every direction with their tails in the air.

The march to Gyangkar Nangpa to-day was only a short one and led across a wide plain through which flowed the muddy and sluggish waters of the Yaru. The existing maps of this country were quite misleading and we could no longer depend on them. The rivers flowed in opposite directions to those shown on the map and mountains were shown where there were none. After about 2 or 3 miles, we had to ford the river, which was about 80 yards wide and not quite 3 feet deep. We then rode on across the plain, which was in some parts sandy and in others muddy or gravelly; evidently during the rainy season a shallow lake. In places the dwarf gorse grew on it. The sandy tracks were covered with curious hillocks 5 to 6 feet in height formed by the drifting sand and the gorse bushes. These in order to keep alive were compelled to push their branches through the sand which in its turn became piled up around them.

Towards the West end of the plain were marshes and shallow lakes around which we had to make big detours.

Gyangkar Nangpa, which was our destination, was the country residence of the Phari Jongpen. His brother, who was acting as agent for him, rode out to meet us and escorted us to his house, a fine solid stone building dominating all the small houses. The tops of the walls were covered with gorse and juniper, rather suggestive of Christmas decorations. Tents were pitched for us in a gra.s.s paddock close to a grove of willows. We were then conducted upstairs into a pleasant room where were some fine gilt Chinese cabinets and some good Chinese rugs. Here the Jongpen had a meal prepared for us. We were first given tea, milk and beer, after which some fifteen dumplings apiece, each as big as a small apple, were put down in front of us together with three other bowls. In one of these was a black Chinese sauce, in another a chillie paste, and a third contained a barley soup. We were then given chopsticks with which we were expected to convey the dumplings into the barley soup, break them up there, season them with the various sauces, and then convey them to our mouths--a not too easy feat. This meal was so satisfying that we felt that we did not want to eat anything for a long time afterwards. We were told that in the rainy season the river here was unfordable, as it rose several feet and flooded over the plains, and it was then necessary to keep to the North or to the South of it. In the evening the agent came to make an official call and presented us with a sheep and a number of eggs. We invited him to dinner and gave him his first taste of such European cooking as could be provided by our native cooks.

[Ill.u.s.tration: GYANGKA RANGE FROM NEAR CHUSHAR.]

There was a slight frost during the night, but the day turned out very fine. Our host accompanied us to the village of Rongkong, one of the villages belonging to his brother, and here he said good-bye to us. The day's march was uninteresting. We followed along the left bank of the Yaru past well-irrigated barley fields, for there was any amount of water here, until the valley narrowed and the sides came down steeper, when it became covered with gorse bushes. This valley we descended for about 10 miles until it debouched into another, a broader sandy valley where the Yaru changed its course to the South. We forded it at a point where it was about 90 yards wide and 3 feet deep, and we then sat down and waited for our transport to come up. Beyond us lay a wide sandy valley through which a stream flowed sometimes on the surface, but more often underground, when it formed dangerous quicksands. When the transport came up, our drivers were very anxious to cross immediately, as there was a strong wind blowing and a violent sandstorm. They said that it would be much safer to cross now that all the fresh sand had blown over the wet sand. In the morning, they said, after a still night, it was very dangerous, so following their advice we started off, every one dressed up as though for a gas attack, with goggles over the eyes and comforters or handkerchiefs tied over the mouth and nose to keep the sand out. At first we wound our way through big sand dunes, off which the sand was blowing like smoke. Under one of these sand dunes we found our coolies halted and lost. Some of the donkeys, too, had been unloaded here, as they could not find their way across in the sandstorm.

After leaving the dunes, there were wide stretches of wet sand to cross, over which the dried sand from the dunes was being blown like long wisps of smoke so that the whole ground appeared to be moving. In places where the wet sand shook and quivered we galloped along. Eventually we and our transport arrived on the far side of the plain in safety. It was now too late, however, to go on any further, so we camped on the dunes near the quicksands in the teeth of the gale. The sand was being whirled up on to us and into our tents until everything and every one was full of sand.

Water was handy, but yak dung, our only fuel, was scarce and scanty.

Just before dark a very beautiful and lofty peak appeared to the Southwards. Our drivers called it Ch.o.m.o Uri (The G.o.ddess of the Turquoise Peak) and we had many discussions as to what mountain this was. In the morning, after taking its bearings carefully, we decided that this could be no other than Mount Everest. We found out afterwards that the name, Ch.o.m.o Uri, was purely a local name for the mountain.

Throughout Tibet it was known as Ch.o.m.olungma--G.o.ddess Mother of the Country--and this is its proper Tibetan name.

Next morning, after an uncomfortable and windy night, we rode for several miles across a plain covered with sand dunes 20 feet or more in height. On reaching the entrance to the valley of Bhong-chu, I determined to separate myself from the main party in order to explore a peak which attracted my attention on the North side of the valley and seemed to promise good views of Mount Everest and its surroundings.

After a climb of some 3,000 feet, I found myself on a spur from which I had a very wonderful view. The view extended to the East from beyond Ch.o.m.olhari--over 120 miles away--and embraced practically all the high snow peaks from Ch.o.m.olhari to Gosainthan, a distance of some 250 miles.

In the centre Mount Everest stood up all by itself, a wonderful peak towering above its neighbours and entirely without a rival. I spent four or five hours at the top of this hill, basking in the sun, as it was delightfully hot. I saw several swallow-tailed b.u.t.terflies, also a number of bees, wasps and horse flies. Major Morshead and his surveyors soon afterwards joined us, intending to take advantage of the fine view.

In the afternoon I left the peak and descended into the valley in search of our new camp, for we had now left the Yaru and had turned up into the valley of the Bhong-chu, a river that flowed from the West, with a very considerable volume of water. As there was rinderpest in the valley, our transport consisted now of donkeys only, many of them being very diminutive in size, but quite accustomed to carrying heavy loads. Our camp was pitched at a place called Trangso Chumbab, where there was an old Chinese rest-house. The Bhong-chu here was nearly 200 yards in width, but there was quite a good ford across it to Tsogo. Here we found many flourishing villages and much cultivation. We seemed to be entering a much more populated part of the country; from the top of the hill I counted in one valley no less than fifteen villages and quite a number of willow groves. From here a longish march of 18 miles up the valley of the Bhong-chu brought us to Kyishong--a pretty little village on the banks of the river. There were a few willow trees here and a lot of sea buckthorn. I did not keep to the road, but started early across a big plain on which I was lucky enough to shoot a goa with quite good horns. The day was very hot and sultry, and after crossing the plain I went up a side valley which turned out to be extremely pretty.

It was very narrow and a ma.s.s of wild rose bushes. These roses were all of a creamy yellow, and every bush was covered with hundreds of sweet-smelling flowers. There was also a curious black clematis and several species of broom and rock cistus. Here and there were gra.s.sy patches with bubbling springs of crystal clearness. Rock pigeons, Brahminy ducks, blackbirds and numerous other varieties of small birds came down to drink here and did not mind us at all. About two o'clock the weather suddenly changed and violent thunderstorms started all round us, first on the opposite side of the valley and then on every side. Heavy hail came down at the same time and the ground soon became white. On descending into the valley, I put up what was to me a new kind of partridge, also numerous mountain hares. On emerging into the main valley, I noticed a group of five large Chortens. I was told that the centre Chorten had been built over a very bad demon, and that it kept him down. The other four Chortens at the corners prevented his ever getting away.

The next day's march to Shekar Dzong was a short one of only 12 miles.

We followed the main valley for about 6 miles through some interesting conglomerate gorges alternating with open s.p.a.ces covered with sea buckthorn. We then turned off Northwards up a side valley which led us to the town and fort of Shekar. This place was very finely situated on a big rocky and sharp-pointed mountain like an enlarged St. Michael's Mount. The actual town stands at the foot of the hill, but a large monastery, holding over 400 monks and consisting of innumerable buildings, is literally perched half-way up the cliff. The buildings are connected by walls and towers with the fort, which rises above them all.

The fort again is connected by turreted walls with a curious Gothic-like structure on the summit of the hill where incense is offered up daily.

On our arrival the whole town turned out and surrounded us with much curiosity, for we were the first Europeans that they had ever seen. A small tent had been pitched for us, but there was such a crowd round it that I retreated to a willow grove close by, which was protected by a wall. As the Jongpen had not come to see us, Chheten w.a.n.gdi went over to find him; presently he came along with a basket of eggs and with many apologies for not coming before, but he said that he had had no warning of our arrival. This was but partly true, for though our pa.s.sport did not particularly mention this place, it authorised all officials to help us to their utmost, and the Jongpen certainly knew and had heard that we were coming. I asked him to give orders that no intoxicating spirits should be served out to our followers, remembering the trouble we had had in one or two places before owing to their all getting drunk. Our tents were all pitched inside an enclosure and in the shade of the willow grove, and above us towered the picturesque buildings of the fort and the monastery. This was by far the largest and most interesting place that we had yet come across. For our mess tent we were given a fine Chinese tent such as they always seem to keep for the entertainment of guests of honour. As in most places, there were two Jongpens residing here, one lay and the other ecclesiastical, and finding that Tingri was under their jurisdiction, we asked them to issue orders to their representatives at Tingri to help us in every way with supplies and transport.

[Ill.u.s.tration: SHEKAR DZONG.]

June 17 we spent resting at Shekar. In the morning Morshead and I went to call on the Jongpen; he lives in a poor house at the foot of the hill, his official residence being three-quarters of the way up, but he wisely prefers to live at the bottom, not being very fond of exercise.

He was busy adding on to his house, and we were shown into the old part in which he was living. He gave us the usual Tibetan tea and sweetmeats and then insisted on our having macaroni and meat seasoned with chillies, which was excellent, followed by junket served in china bowls.

He had some very fine teacups of agate and hornblende schist with finely chased silver covers, which I admired very much. That afternoon several of us went up to visit the big monastery of Shekar Cho-te. This consisted of a great number of buildings terraced one above the other on a very steep rocky slope. A path along the face of the rock brought us to several archways under which we pa.s.sed. We then had to go up and down some picturesque but very steep and narrow streets until we came to a large courtyard. On one side of this was the main temple. In this temple were several gilt statues of Buddha decorated all over with turquoises and other precious stones, and behind them a huge figure of Buddha quite 50 feet high. Every year, they told us, they had to re-gild his face.

Around were eight curious figures about 10 feet high and dressed in quaint flounces which they said were the guardians of the shrine. We then went up steep and slippery ladders, in almost pitch darkness, and came out on a platform opposite the face of the great Buddha. Here were some beautifully chased silver teapots and other interesting pieces of silver, richly decorated in relief. Inside the shrine, which was very dark, the smell of rancid b.u.t.ter was almost overpowering as all the lamps burnt b.u.t.ter. The official head of the monastery showed us round.

He was apparently appointed from Lhasa and was responsible for all the revenues and financial dealings of the monastery. We were given very b.u.t.tery tea in the roof courtyard, which was a pleasant spot, and here I photographed a group of several monks. They had never seen a camera or photographs before, but they had heard that such a thing was possible and were very much interested in it. Before leaving we went in to see the Head Lama who had lived over sixty-six years in this monastery. He was looked upon as being extremely holy and as the re-incarnation of a former abbot, and they therefore practically worshipped him. There was only one tooth left in his mouth, but for all that he had a very pleasant smile. All around his room were silver-gilt Chortens inlaid with turquoises and precious stones and incense was being burnt everywhere. After much persuasion the other monks induced him to come outside and have his photograph taken, telling him that he was an old man, and that his time on earth was now short, and they would like to have a picture of him to remember him by. He was accordingly brought out, dressed up in robes of beautiful golden brocades, with priceless silk Chinese hangings arranged behind him while he sat on a raised dais with his dorje and his bell in front of him, placed upon a finely carved Chinese table. The fame of this photograph spread throughout the country and in places hundreds of miles away I was asked for photographs of the Old Abbot of Shekar Cho-te, nor could I give a more welcome present at any house than a photograph of the Old Abbot. Being looked upon as a saint, he was worshipped, and they would put these little photographs in shrines and burn incense in front of them.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE ABBOT OF SHEKAR CHoTE.]

About midnight that night I was suddenly awakened by yells and loud shouting and hammering close to my tent and next to that in which Bullock and Mallory were sleeping. The latter turned out and found that a Tibetan had seized an ice axe and a mallet and was busy hammering on our store boxes. He gave chase, but failed to catch the intruder. Some of our coolies, however, found out where he had gone to, and Chheten w.a.n.gdi had him handed over to the Jongpen. On investigation in the morning the man proved to be a madman whom his parents always kept locked up during nights when the moon was full, but he had managed to escape, so we handed him back to his family.

Our transport was very slow in arriving, and there were so many delays that it was midday before the procession finally moved off. The loads, too, were very badly put on and kept falling off, also the transport was quite the worst that we had yet had. For about 5 miles the path went up and down hill and through much sand until we came to the bridge over the Bhong-chu. This bridge consisted of four or five stout pillars of loose stones which acted as piers, on which were laid a few pieces of wood, on which flat stones were placed. It was a rough form of bridge, but served at ordinary times for its purpose. During the course of this summer, however, after heavy rain, these piers so dammed up the water as to cause it to rise some 4 or 5 feet on the upper side of them with the result that the immense weight of water swept the whole bridge away.

Bullock and Mallory with half a dozen coolies had left early in the morning, intending to bivouac out for a couple of nights and climb one of the hills to the South of the Bhong-chu in order to get a view of Mount Everest. After we had gone about 5 miles we met them close to the bridge, as they had lost their way and had been walking for about 15 miles: not having found the bridge, they had forded the river and had got wet up to their necks in crossing it. At dusk we reached the village of Tsakor, where we found a tent pitched for us, and here we spent the night. Our transport did not turn up till nearly nine o'clock, and so we all slept in the mess tent. From here to Tingri was still another 20 miles--the path following the right bank of the Bhong-chu the whole way.

In places the river was as much as 200 yards wide and flowed very sluggishly. We were told that the waters were very low, but that next month, when the rains had broken, the river often filled the whole of the bottom of the valley. On the way we pa.s.sed some very handsome black-necked cranes as large as the Saurus crane. These had black heads and bills, with red eyes, light grey bodies and black tails with fine feathers. On this march the midges were dreadfully annoying the whole way, and we were surrounded with clouds of them the whole time. Their bite was very tiresome and extremely irritating. On the way we pa.s.sed a Mongolian who had taken eleven months in coming from Lhasa and who was on his way to Nepal. His method of progression was by throwing himself at full length down on the ground. He then got up and at the spot where his hands touched the ground repeated the motion again. As we approached Tingri, the valley widened out and bent round to the South. Tingri itself was situated on the side of a small hill in the middle of a great plain, from which, looking to the South, was visible the wonderful chain of snowy peaks, many of them over 25,000 feet in height, which extends Westwards from Mount Everest. We crossed the Ra-chu--a tributary of the Bhong-chu, partly by bridges and partly by fords; it was split up into a number of small and very muddy channels that took their rise from the Kyetrak Glacier. Tingri was to be our first base for reconnoitring the Northern and North-western approaches to Mount Everest. It was June 19 when we arrived there, so that it had taken us just a month's travelling from Darjeeling to perform this part of our journey.

CHAPTER IV

TINGRI AND THE COUNTRY TO THE SOUTH

Tingri is a place of some importance, with a considerable trade at certain seasons of the year. It is the last place of any size on this side of the Nepalese frontier and boasts of a military governor. The garrison, however, when we visited it, consisted only of a sergeant and four or five soldiers. There were about three hundred houses in Tingri, all cl.u.s.tered together on the slopes of a small isolated hill standing in the middle of the great plain. On the top of the hill was the old Chinese fort, now all falling into ruin, but still littered with papers and books, written in Chinese characters, left behind by the Chinese on their hasty departure. Inside were quaint mural frescoes of curious old men riding stags or winged dragons painted in many colours. All the way up the valley of the Bhong-chu we had seen ruins of walls and evidences of much fighting. These all dated back, we were told, to the time of the Nepalese invasions of Tibet in the eighteenth century when the Gurkhas penetrated so far into Tibet that they actually got to Shigatse, and the Tibetans had to call upon the Chinese Empire for help. The Chinese came into the country with a large army, defeated the Gurkhas, drove them out of Tibet and crossed the Himalayas with a considerable army into Nepal, an extraordinary military feat considering the enormous difficulty of moving an army in these unhospitable regions over the high mountain pa.s.ses through which it is approached. The Chinese, after this, never left Tibet until they were driven out by the Tibetans only a few years ago. In the hills round Tingri we came across many evidences of the fighting which then took place. This probably accounted for the large number of ruined and deserted villages that we saw in the valleys around. At the foot of the hill was a large Chinese rest-house which was only used to house Tibetan officials when they came there on duty. The Tibetans themselves did not like to live in or use the place, as many Chinese had died there and they thought that their ghosts haunted the spot. This rest-house was, however, swept out and prepared for our reception, as we had told the Tibetans that we should probably stay there for some time and should want a house to protect us from the wind and to provide a dark room for developing our photographs. The rest-house consisted of three courtyards in the outer one we put the coolies, in the middle one the surveyors, and the inner one we kept for ourselves. In appearance the building was quite picturesque with its mural paintings of flying dogs and fierce dragons; but in spite of its picturesqueness outside and its handsome appearance, the rooms inside were small, and when the rain came it poured through the roof and our beds had to be shifted many times during the night to avoid the drips of water. It however provided an excellent dark room for us after we had well plastered the walls, the floor and the ceiling with mud and got rid of the dust of ages. To do any photographic work in Tibet a house is a necessity, as with the violent wind that blows every day all one's belongings get covered with dust which would ruin any negative. At first we found water a great difficulty as the local water was full of mud, but we eventually discovered a beautifully clear spring, about half a mile away, which bubbled up in a deep bluey green basin, and this water we used always, both for drinking and for photographic work. Tingri had many advantages as a base. Stores, supplies and transport were always available there, as it was the headquarters of the district. It also provided an easy means of approach to Mount Everest from the North-west and to the high group of mountains that lay to the West of Mount Everest. After sorting out all our stores and equipment and seeing in what state they were after the journey, our next business was the making of a dark room, as we had taken many photographs on the journey that required developing. The weather at this time was very fine, but the Tibetans kept on telling us that the rainy season ought to be starting, so we determined as soon as possible to send out parties in different directions to make the most of the favourable opportunity. The first morning after our arrival we were up on the top of the hill by six o'clock in the hope of getting a good view to the South, but the clouds were already over most of the mountains. Everest we could see quite clearly, and Cho-Uyo, the great 26,800 feet peak that lies to the West of Mount Everest. The Depon here, who was acting as the Governor of the place, was a nice young fellow and very cheery, and later on I got to know him very well and went over to his house and was entertained by him and his wife. He told me that the Tibetans still paid tribute to Nepal for all that part of the country, and that the amount they had to pay was the equivalent of 5,000 rupees per annum. The Nepalese kept a head-man at Tingri and another at Nyenyam to deal with all criminal cases and offences committed by Nepalese subjects when in Tibet. I found later on that the Tibetans were very frightened of the Nepalese, or of having any dealings with a Gurkha. I took photographs of the Depon's wife and all their children, and of his mother-in-law, which delighted them immensely; the wife at first was very shy of coming forward, but after many tears and protestations her husband finally induced her to be photographed. The great semi-circular head-dresses that the women wear are usually covered with turquoises, and coral, and often with strings of seed pearls across them. Round their necks hang long chains of either turquoise or coral beads, sometimes mixed with lumps of amber. Suspended round the neck by a shorter chain is generally a very elaborately decorated charm box, those belonging to the richer or upper cla.s.ses being of gold inlaid with turquoises, the poorer people having them made of silver with poorer turquoises. The officials, as a rule, have a long ear-ring, 4 or 5 inches long, of turquoises and pearls, suspended from the left ear, while in the right ear they wear a single turquoise of very good quality. Nearly every one carries a rosary, with which their hands are playing about the whole day. We were told that the laws governing marriage in those parts were strictly regulated. Owing to the excessive number of males, a form of polyandry prevails. If there were four brothers in a family, and the eldest one married a wife, his wife would also be the property of the three younger brothers; but if the second or third brother married, their wives would be common only to themselves and their youngest brother. In Tibet, when, owing to the severe climate, digging is impossible for about six months in the year, if a man dies his body is handed over to professional corpse butchers, of whom there are one or two in every village. These butchers cut the body up into small pieces, which are taken out on to a hill-top and scattered about for the birds of the air or the wolves to devour. If by any chance there is a delay in consuming these remains, this is looked upon as a sign that the man has led an evil life during his lifetime.

On June 22 Wollaston rejoined us again. He had escorted Raeburn to Lachen, and had there arranged for an a.s.sistant surgeon to come up and take him back as far as Gangtok. Wollaston had then come on as fast as possible to rejoin us. His kit did not arrive till the following day, as he had ridden in direct from Shekar Dzong. The following day Bullock and Mallory left us, making direct for Mount Everest, and intending to reconnoitre the North and Northwestern slopes. Looked at from here it is certainly a very wonderful mountain, as it seems to stand up all by itself, but from this side it looks far too steep to be climbed. On June 25 Wheeler and Heron went off to Kyetrak, from which point Wheeler was to begin his photographic survey. I had intended to start the following day and join them, but the acid hypo that I had been using for fixing had given off so many sulphur fumes that I had been quite "ga.s.sed" for several days and had lost my voice in consequence. Unfortunately my orderly and Wheeler's bearer, who were both Mahommedans, were taken ill with enteric. Wheeler's bearer was in a very bad way, and a few days after my departure he died, but my orderly, after a bad attack, recovered, and when I returned three weeks later he was able to be up and to walk about a little. As Wollaston was likely to be detained here for some time owing to these cases of sickness, and as Morshead wanted to get in some surveying all round Tingri, I thought it would be a good opportunity to visit the different parties that we had sent out, and also to get, if possible, some information about Kharta, which I intended should be our second base. The coolies that we had still with us at Tingri were kept busy by Wollaston, and daily they would bring in rats, birds, lizards, beetles, or fish which they had collected for him.

The local people would not make any attempt to collect these animals, as they said it was against their religion. On June 26 I started out to the South and camped the first night at Sharto, a small village about 9 miles across the plain to the South of Tingri. On the way we pa.s.sed numbers of bees that seemed to be coming up out of the ground and swarming. These were all of a very light brown colour. Sharto is only a small village, but there are no other houses between it and Kyetrak, so that it was necessary to stop there. As the wind always blows with great strength here, the tents were pitched within some sheltering walls. In every place that we went to now we managed to get some kind of green food which was turned into spinach; a small kind of weed that grows in the barley fields was generally thus used. At other times we tried turnip leaves, or again, when we were higher and above the limits of cultivation, the young shoots of the nettle which grows up to 17,000 feet, and is really very good. I had taken with me this time a Tibetan whom we had picked up on the way. He was called Poo, and he turned out to be an excellent cook who could make any of the Tibetan dishes. As he was a sensible fellow, and very seldom drunk, I made a good deal of use of him. He accompanied me in all my wanderings, and I could not have found a more useful servant when travelling, as he never seemed to mind the cold or the height and could always produce a fire of some kind, even though he had forgotten to bring any matches. That evening at Sharto there was a curious false sunset in the East with rays of light in the deep purple of the sky. All the hills stood out with wonderful sharpness, and the colours were very beautiful. Towards nightfall we saw a number of kiang, which came quite close up to the camp and started feeding on the barley fields in spite of the pillars of stones and the strings which are put round the fields to keep both them and the hares away from the crops. The next morning I started off early as I intended to climb a hill 17,700 feet, on the way to Kyetrak. This hill, however, proved further off than I antic.i.p.ated, and we had some difficulty in crossing a glacier stream, so that I did not get up to the top till 9 a.m., by which time the clouds had hidden a great part of the mountains to the South of us. The view, nevertheless, was extraordinarily fine.

The top of Everest just showed above a great icy range to the East of us, and South-east was that great group of mountains of which Cho-Uyo, 26,800 feet, is the highest. Immense granite precipices descended sheer for several thousand feet until they reached great winding glaciers, while from over the Khombu Pa.s.s long wisps of cloud came sailing round these peaks and eventually hid them from our view. To the North the view extended right up to the watershed of the Brahmaputra, 80 to 100 miles distant. The different colours of the hills, the light and shade from the clouds, all formed a charming picture. Once over 17,000 feet, I met my old friend the dwarf blue poppy (_Meconopsis_) and many pretty white, blue and yellow saxifrages that grew on the rocks. Descending from this hill into the Kyetrak Valley, we pa.s.sed a number of goa which were quite tame, but unfortunately they were all females. We had two more big glacial torrents to cross which later in the afternoon would probably have been impa.s.sable as by that time they would have risen another 2 feet, due to the melting of the snow and the ice by the hot sun in the morning; indeed, we only just managed to get across when we did. The main Kyetrak stream comes from the great glacier that descends from Cho-Uyo and the Khombu Pa.s.s. Opposite the village of Kyetrak it is luckily divided into a number of small streams, so that it is usually possible to get across it, though in the afternoons it is always somewhat difficult.

This village lies at a height of 16,000 feet, at the foot of the Khombu or Nangba Pa.s.s and the Pusi Pa.s.s. The former is a high glacier-covered pa.s.s, about 19,000 feet, that leads into the Khombu Valley in Nepal. The other, the Pusi Pa.s.s, is a much lower and easier pa.s.s that leads into the Rongshar Valley. Between these two pa.s.ses lies a very beautiful glacier-covered peak called Chorabsang. Here at Kyetrak I met Heron and Wheeler encamped in the shelter of some walls close to the village, which consisted of a few dirty stone houses and a big Chorten. The people told me that they lived here all the year round, and that they owned the grazing for many miles to the North and possessed herds of yaks several thousand in number. Traffic could be kept up over these pa.s.ses, they said, at all times of the year, though only with great difficulty, and with much danger, whole convoys being sometimes wiped out by blizzards when trying to cross the Khombu Pa.s.s, as the fine powdery snow is blown down into their faces from every direction and they finally get suffocated by it. That night there was a sharp frost, and the following morning Heron and I started to go up towards the Khombu Pa.s.s, following at first the East side of the Kyetrak Glacier.

For about 6 or 7 miles we rode beside the great moraine that extended along the East side of this glacier; every now and then we climbed up on to a mound on the edge of the glacier in order to take photographs of it. The ice was all torn and riven into wonderful shapes and opposite us was the finely creva.s.sed peak of Chorabsang. I pushed on, leaving Heron to come on at a slower pace, as I was anxious to get to the top of the pa.s.s before the clouds should have come up and hidden all the views.

Every day it cost us a race to get up to a point of vantage before the clouds should have come up and hidden everything. Leaving the pony behind, with one coolie, I pressed forward for some 4 miles up a very stony and slippery moraine on the glacier. Here were many curious ice formations--ice tables with a big flat rock superimposed, curious upright pillars of ice, and the main glacier itself was worn by stone and water into the weirdest shapes and forms. In places, too, we came across that curious formation which in South America is called Nieve Penitentes. As we pa.s.sed onwards, new glaciers opened up in every valley. The views up some of these side valleys, which often widened out into great amphitheatres, were very grand, especially that of the huge glacier that swept down from below the rock walls of Cho-Uyo.

On arriving at the end of the moraine, the boots that my coolie was wearing came to pieces and he said he could go no further across the snow, so shouldering the big camera, I started off alone. At first the ice was firm, but soon I came to soft snow and much water underneath it: they made the going very unpleasant and I kept floundering about up to my knees in snow and water. At length I came to a large creva.s.se along the edge of which I followed for over half a mile as most of the snow bridges across it were unsafe. At last I found my way across and by climbing on to some rocks was able to look over the top of the pa.s.s and down into Nepal. The height of the pa.s.s seemed to be about 19,000 feet, and as the day was very hot, I lay down and went sound asleep, only waking up when it began to snow. I then started, none too soon, on my homeward journey: all the way back snow fell heavily. I was very thankful to meet my coolie again and to hand over the camera to him: carrying a camera for five or six hours in soft snow at a height of over 18,000 feet is a heavy tax upon the endurance of anyone unaccustomed to carrying weights. Wheeler meanwhile had moved up his camp from Kyetrak to a spot on the moraine East of the glacier and intended to spend a week or fortnight in that valley.

The next morning Heron and I started to go over the Pusi Pa.s.s (Marmot Pa.s.s), so called because of the number of marmots that frequent the Southern slopes. After fording the Kyetrak River, we climbed up the moraine to the West of the Kyetrak Glacier and then turned up some easy gra.s.s hills until we came to the top of the pa.s.s, 17,700 feet.

Here at the very top were growing some delightful little dwarf forget-me-nots--not an inch high--also many white and yellow saxifrages.

Most of the views were unfortunately hidden by clouds, though one fine triple-headed peak showed up well to the South. We pa.s.sed several flocks of female burhel (_Ovis nahura_), which were quite tame, and allowed us to ride up to within 50 yards of them. The hillsides were bare at first and gra.s.sy and the air felt distinctly cold and damp. We now commenced our long descent, and at 16,000 feet began to meet with juniper bushes and many dwarf rhododendrons. As we got lower, many more varieties of bushes appeared. There were two or three kinds of berberis, loniceras, white and pink spiraeas, and quant.i.ties of white roses; besides these were ma.s.ses of primulas and anemones, and pink, white or mauve geraniums. We now followed the right bank of the Shung-chu, a great glacial torrent, which joined by several others became an unfordable stream. The path was well engineered, sometimes close to the river, and sometimes built out on rocks high above the stream. All of a sudden the valley narrowed into a great gorge. We had left all the granites and slates behind and had suddenly come into the zone of the gneiss, which extended many miles to the South. A little way further down, at a place where two other valleys meet, we caught sight of some green barley fields lying round the small village of Tasang where we encamped on a terrace for the night. We were now at a height of only 13,300 feet, and were able to get fresh eggs and vegetables again. It was a great pleasure once more to have wood fires in place of the yak dung with its acrid smoke, which caused all one's food to taste unpleasantly. Here we used as fuel the aromatic wood of the juniper.

This valley is looked upon as a holy one, owing to the number of juniper bushes that grow in it, and several hermits and nuns had taken up their abode in it and shut themselves up in caves in order to meditate. The nearest village used to supply them with food, and morning and evening could be seen ascending the blue smoke of the juniper, which they burnt as incense before the entrances of their dwelling places. There was a hermit who lived close to the village and whose cave we could see high up in the rocks above. The villagers told us that after meditating for a period of ten years, he would be able to live on only ten grains of barley a day, and they were looking forward to that day. There was another anchorite female who was supposed to have lived here for 138 years and who was greatly revered. She had forbidden any of the animals in the valley to be killed, and that was the reason why the flocks of burhel we had pa.s.sed were so extremely tame. The next day, giving our transport a rest, Heron and I walked for 7 or 8 miles down the valley.

On the opposite side of the valley the only trees were birches and willow, and it was curious that, at these comparatively low heights, there were no large rhododendrons or fir trees. On the other side of the valley, the vegetation consisted wholly of juniper, berberis or wild roses. We descended to 12,000 feet, most of the time going through narrow gorges. At one place we came across a number of gooseberry bushes covered with young gooseberries, of which we gathered a sufficient supply to last us for several days. The rose bushes were charming all the way. At first they were all of the white creamy coloured variety, but lower down we came on the big red one with flowers often more than 3 inches in diameter. Wherever there were springs of water there grew ma.s.ses of anemones and yellow primulas. We now returned to our camp at Tasang, and rain then started and continued the remainder of the day.

The people told us that this valley was pa.s.sable for animals for three days' journey, after which the river entered into some terrible gorges down which it was only just possible for a coolie to get along, and these latter gorges formed the boundary between Tibet and Nepal. On July 1 we started to return to Kyetrak; the morning was misty when we started, and though the higher peaks were all hidden in the clouds, the sun shone brightly and the day was quite hot. Our kit did not arrive till between five and six o'clock, and the yaks had a great deal of trouble in getting across the Kyetrak River, as it had risen considerably. Wheeler was still at his high camp further up the valley, waiting for a really clear day. The clouds, too, were his great enemies, as they came up very early every morning from over the Khombu Pa.s.s.