Читать книгу Through Unknown Tibet - M. S. Wellby - Страница 8

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MUN—LUDHKONG—TOUCHING FRIENDSHIP OF MULE AND PONY—NIAGZU.

The road for the first couple of miles was fairly good over rising ground when the lake first came into sight, and an extensive view permitted the taking of several bearings to distant hills. The lake looked blue, clear, and inviting, bounded on the further side by a fine range of mountains running into snow-capped peaks.

Besides obtaining a view of the lake, we also saw our flock of sheep, which had left Shushal the day previously, and very shortly overtook them. We were surprised and somewhat disheartened at finding the condition they were in. Two of them were already being carried in the arms of the shepherds, which will at once prove that our mutton was not of the fattest description. The remainder of the flock were going along so weakly that it seemed doubtful whether we should see any of them again. This disaster was a great blow to our commissariat arrangements. We had at one time even reckoned that our sheep might carry loads of about fifty or sixty pounds, but finding that would be impracticable, we decided to drive them along with us day after day, keeping them as a reserve, only making use of them when our own supplies began to run short and game was scarce. But now two of them were knocked up after going only a couple of miles. At this time of the year, sheep are naturally in poor condition, for they have picked up but scanty feeding during the winter months.

On this morning there was a strong north wind blowing in our teeth as we rode on ahead of our caravan, and after five more miles followed the sandy, stony shore of the lake.

As we were anxious not to be too far away from our caravan, we sought a sheltered nook by the edge of the lake, and, dismounting, allowed our ponies to graze on the little grass that grew close by, while we ourselves, seizing the opportunity, pulled out the kettle from our saddle-bags and soon had the water boiling for our breakfast. The kettle might as well have remained where it was, for here we learnt our first lesson in regard to many of the lakes of these regions, so pleasing to the eye, but deceptive as to their use. Our tea was so brackish as to defy any attempt at drinking it.

In the meantime our baggage had passed by, so we rode on over somewhat heavy and stony ground to overtake them, and before nightfall reached Mun, a small village with some cultivation around it, forming a kind of oasis in this stony, sandy country. We found here a good serai wherein to put our animals for the night, and a room for ourselves and men. There was no more transport to be had here, but the usual supplies being plentiful, we gave our animals two pounds of grain each and as much bhoussa as they could eat.

The following morning, although we were able to better arrange the loads, yet there was nothing satisfactory about them. Still favoured with the north wind we continued along the shore of the lake. Thus far we had found the water absolutely devoid of life, but after twelve miles we came to the end of the lake, and found there the only inhabitants living on it, a few gulls and a single Brahmini duck. At this spot, too, the place is called Kaba, and there is another more direct road branching off to the left to Leh.

Three more miles over deepish sand brought us to Ludhkong, the end of our march. This was the last place where any kind of supplies could be got. There was no grain here, but we were able to get plenty of bhoussa, some milk, sheep, goats, and a limited number of hired yak. The place consisted of a few stone houses built by the banks of a small fresh-water stream. Around on all sides were hills and snow-topped mountains; the land was barren, for there was no grazing ground at all.

The baggage arrived in good time, and we were glad of the afternoon for overhauling everything, doctoring our animals, and taking heights. We had, besides, to make up our minds as to which way we were going next. This was our great difficulty, and at first we could induce nobody to show us. We knew passes would have to be crossed, but as to their height, and as to water, grass, and camping grounds, we were in total ignorance.

Towards evening we learnt that, should we decide to proceed further, we could only go by one road and in this case should have to cross two passes, and that we should find no grass or water until the third day on arrival at Niagzu. This was certainly gloomy intelligence, and a bad lookout for our mules and ponies. Here they were about to go three days without grass or water before even they had crossed the frontier into Tibet. How could they ever cross the whole of Tibet and China? It was absolutely cruel to think of it. In addition to this, our hired animals had only agreed to come with us as far as Ludhkong. The only solution out of the difficulty was to persuade the owners of them to come on further with us, and this they were unwilling to do, for none of them relished three days without water and grass. By promise of higher rewards we finally overcame their scruples, and with the assistance of the Kadir who, by orders from the Wazir, had come all the way from Leh to smooth matters for us, we were enabled to hire more yak at Ludhkong itself, making a grand total of thirty-four hired animals. These were to come with us to Niagzu. As to our sheep, we came to an agreement with the men of Ludhkong, by which they were to take possession of our flock of sheep, which were coming on behind us, and were to fit us out with a fresh flock of sheep and goats, receiving an adequate remuneration for the bargain.

Things now began to look rosier for us. We arranged to put full loads on these hired animals and allow them to travel to Niagzu in their own time, while we ourselves, putting small loads on some of our own animals and none on others, would journey on in advance and cover the distance as fast as possible.

We reckoned that by leaving Ludhkong early one morning we could reach Niagzu the following evening. There we knew both grass and water were plentiful, and our own animals, while awaiting the arrival of the hired ones, would be fattening up and enjoying a rest. After seeing that all was ready for an early start the next day, we turned in for the night with light hearts.

On awakening the following morning, the first sight that greeted our eyes was that of our original hired yak being driven back in a body the way they had come, without any one attempting to stop them. It was fortunate we had woken up in good time that morning, as we were in time to prevent their straying far. We soon had them back again, and to prevent further attempt at desertion, at once set about the loading up of the two lots of transport. In spite of our instructions and arrangements the previous night, there was considerable confusion, and with the class of men we had to deal with, it was unavoidable. All as usual seize upon the nearest animal to load it up with the baggage nearest at hand, entirely regardless as to whether the load is suitable in weight or size to the animal, or whether it is required to go on with the party in advance. Until the muleteers were quite under our thumb, it was impossible to make them do otherwise.

We carried a glass lantern to hold a candle, and being anxious to save it from being broken, it was carried in the hand by one of the hired yakmen, but as to one of our own muleteers carrying a lantern for a few miles! why, he had never done such a contemptible thing in all his life, and wasn't going to do it now!

To avoid the chance of our hired transport making a second attempt to turn back, we left Shahzad Mir and Esau to bring them on, as well as our two most reliable muleteers, Bakr Hadji and Shukr Ali, and after saying good-bye to the Kadir who had done so much good service for us, and to the kind people of Ludhkong, we started on our waterless march.

We soon took a turning half-right, over some good grazing land, and then began an easy ascent of the Porandu Pass for about five miles. When we had nearly reached the summit, we stopped to boil our kettle with some snow at hand, and to have our breakfast. Below us we could see first of all our own mules and ponies, while right away in the distance our glasses showed us our flock of sheep and goats and our hired yak, and Shahzad Mir with the man carrying the plane table.

It was not encouraging, after having crossed this pass, to find the road bending still more round to the right, following the direction of the shore of the Pangong Lake, and we calculated that if we continued to zigzag in the way we had done since leaving Leh, we should stand a chance of reaching China in two or three years' time.

Our muleteers manifested anything but a willing spirit. As we were riding on ahead, we were annoyed to find the caravan had halted some way back, of their own accord, and from their general demeanour we concluded they were contemplating whether the journey they were about to launch forth on was really good enough or not. We, too, halted; this seemed to be a turning-point in their plans, for they soon began to move on again.

As we ascended the stony nullah, sleet began to fall, encouraging the darkness before its due time, and compelling us to take the best shelter we could find for the night. Close by we found a suitable place—a sudden dip in the nullah bordered by heavy overhanging rocks, with a fair stretch of level ground at their foot. Here we drove four stout pegs into the ground, with strong ropes fastened to them, making two parallel lines; to one of these lines we picketed the mules, and to the other the ponies, with the exception of a certain black mule and a certain white pony. This couple had lived together practically for all their lives; in fact, at the time when we were buying our transport in Leh, we had to be satisfied with taking both of them or none at all, for the merchant who owned them was as fond of them as they were of one another, and rather than see them separated he would lose the chance of making his profit on one of them.

This remarkable pair also found a warm spot in our hearts, and we did all we could to keep the white pony in health and strength. They always marched together, grazed together, and were never apart. On one occasion when the pony was showing signs of weakness, we decided to ride it, for by dint of walking a good deal and stopping two or three times during the march, in grassy spots, we managed to save our riding ponies considerably, and, we thought, the black mule would manage without his friend for a few hours; but nothing of the sort—as soon as we rode away with the white pony, immediately after him came the black mule, load and all. We felt more convinced than ever that should the white pony die at any time from exhaustion, his faithful friend would soon follow after him; this doubled our anxiety to keep up the strength of the white pony, for he was in no way equal to the black mule. To tell now of the fate of this dear old couple would, perhaps, be anticipating events.

Near our camp there was not a vestige of grass, so we had to fall back upon our limited supply of bhoussa and grain. Of course the mules and ponies had to go waterless, although we were able to collect sufficient snow for the use of our men and ourselves.

We had already turned to our left again, and had ceased to follow the Pangong Lake, but had continued to make a long ascent. On leaving our encampment by the rocks, up, up we went; a blinding sleet blew in our faces, making it hard to see more than a few yards. At the top of this pass, which was called the Ann Pass, sickness from the unaccustomed height in no way sweetened the temper of some of our men, and we found no pleasure attached to the operation of finding out the height of this pass with the hypsometer, with a temperature just about freezing-point. We hurried down the other side of this comfortless pass, and for the rest of the day marched along a rocky, stony pathway, amidst a continuous snowstorm, when suddenly, on a bend to our left, the whole aspect was entirely changed. The heavy clouds gave way to a warm and genial sun. Thick brushwood and green grass replaced the sharply-angled rocks and those countless loose stones that lay about everywhere, as though they were a bore to themselves and to all others. A clear stream, too, ran merrily through this pleasant spot. No wonder the kyang and antelope had chosen this as one of their favourite districts to wander into, and the hares had grown fat and multiplied.