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the English became hot under their peculiar collars in an attempt
to invade us or strangle us they did not mind which. This Mr.
Bell, who was on the spot, saw that we had no desire to side with
any nation; we wanted to stay on our own, to live life in our own
way, and keep clear of all dealings with foreigners who, in the past,
had brought us nothing but trouble, loss, and hardship.
The Inmost One was pleased indeed with my remarks after this
Mr. Bell had left. But he thought of me in terms of more work
 Yes, yes! he exclaimed,  we must develop you even more,
Lobsang. You will find it of the utmost use when you go to the
Far Countries. We will have you given more hypnotic treatment,
we must cram in all the knowledge that we can. He reached for
his bell and rang for one of his attendants.  Mingyar Dondup, I
want him here, now! he said. A few minutes later my Guide
appeared and made his leisurely way across. Not for anyone would
that Lama hurry! And the Dalai Lama knew him as a friend and
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so did not try to hasten him. My Guide sat beside me, in front of
the Precious One. An attendant hurried along with more buttered
tea and  things from India to eat. When we were settled, the
Dalai Lama said:  Mingyar, you were correct, he has ability. He
can be developed still more, Mingyar, and he must be. Take what-
ever steps you consider necessary so that he is trained as quickly
and as thoroughly as possible. Use any and all of our resources
for, as we have been so often warned, evil times will come upon
our country, and we must have someone who can compile the
Record of the Ancient Arts.
So the tempo of my days were increased. Often, from this time,
I was sent for in a hurry to  interpret the colours of some person,
perhaps that of a learned abbot from a far distant lamasery, or a
civil leader of some remote province. I became a well-known
visitor to the Potala and to the Norbu Linga. In the former I was
able to make use of the telescopes which I so enjoyed, particularly
one large astronomical model on a heavy tripod. With this, late at
night, I would spend hours watching the moon and the stars.
The Lama Mingyar Dondup and I frequently went into Lhasa
City to observe visitors. His own considerable powers of clair-
voyance, and his wide knowledge of people, enabled him to check
and develop my own statements. It was most interesting to go to
the stall of a trader and hear the man speak loud in praise of his
wares, and compare them with his thoughts, which to us were not
so private. My memory, too, was developed, for long hours I
listened to involved passages, and then had to say them back. For
unknown periods of time I lay in a hypnotic trance while people
read to me passages from our oldest Scriptures.
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CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THE SECRET NORTH-AND YETIS
During this time we went to the Chang Tang Highlands. In this
book there is no time for more than a brief mention of this region.
To do the expedition justice would require several books. The
Dalai Lama had blessed each of the fifteen members of the party
and we had all set off in high spirits, mounted on mules: mules will
go where horses will not. We made our slow way along by Tengri
Tso, on to the huge lakes at Zilling Nor, and ever northwards. The
slow climb over the Tangla Range, and on into unexplored terri-
tory. It is difficult to say how long we took, because time meant
nothing to us: there was no reason for us to hurry, we went at our
own comfortable speed and saved our strength and energy for
later exertions.
As we made our way farther and farther into the Highlands, the
ground ever rising, I was reminded of the face of the moon as seen
through the large telescope at the Potala. Immense mountain
ranges, and deep canyons. Here the vista was the same. The un-
ending, eternal mountains, and crevices which seemed bottom-
less. We struggled on through this  lunar landscape , finding the
conditions becoming harder and harder. At last the mules could
go no farther. In the rarefied air they were soon spent and could
not manage to cross some of the rocky gorges where we swung
dizzily at the end of a yak-hair rope. In the most sheltered spot
we could find we left our mules and the five weakest members of
the party stayed with them. They were sheltered from the worst
blasts of that barren, wind-swept landscape by a spur of rock which
towered upwards like a jagged wolf fang. At the base there was a
cave where softer rock had been eroded by time. A precipitous
path could be followed which would lead downwards to a valley
where there was sparse vegetation on which the mules could feed.
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A tinkling stream dashed along the tableland and rushed over the
edge of a cliff to fall thousands of feet below, so far below that even
the sound of its landing was lost.
Here we rested for two days before plodding on higher and
higher. Our backs ached with the loads we were carrying, and our
lungs felt as if they would burst for want of air. On we went, over
crevices and ravines. Over many of them we had to toss iron hooks
to which ropes were attached. Toss, and hope that there would
be a safe hold at the other side. We would take turns to swing the
rope with the hook, and take turns to swarm across when a hold
was secured. Once across we had another end of rope so that when
all the party had negotiated the canyon, the rope also could be
brought over by pulling one end. Sometimes we could get no hold.
then one of us would have the rope tied around his waist, and
from the highest point we could reach, would try to swing like a
pendulum, increasing the momentum with each swing. With one [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]