Tibet anc Turkest a n Oscar Terry Crosby REESE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA. Class TIBET AND TURKESTAN A JOURNEY THROUGH OLD LANDS AND A STUDY OF NEW CONDITIONS BY OSCAR TERRY CROSBY, F.R.G.S. ILLUSTRATED G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS NEW YORK AND LONDON Gbe luiicfcerbocfeer 1905 REESE COPYRIGHT, 1905 BY OSCAR TERRY CROSBY ttbe fwfcfcerbocfcer press, new ?orft PREFACE THE reader need not fear that he is here invited to traverse the weary marches of a traveller's diary. In the following, pages, incidents have been subordinated to the things suggested by them. The journey herein recounted was made in the lat- ter half of the year 1903. As I have many other duties in life than those of travel and writing, the prepara- tion of this book has been of fitful and slow process. Although originally undertaking the expedition alone, it was by happy chance that I met in Tiflis Captain Fernand Anginieur of the French Army, who became a companion for the journey and a friend for life. He shared with me the responsibili- ties of every kind that were to be met after a tele- graphed authorisation from his War Minister per- mitted him definitely to cast his lot with mine. I wish more of my compatriots could meet and know such Frenchmen as are typified in Anginieur. "Brilliant but superficial and frivolous" is a hasty judgment which one often hears from English- speaking critics of the French. "Brilliant, loyal, and earnest" such is the type whom one finds in making the acquaintance of my friend Anginieur. As to the route followed by us: starting at the Caspian Sea, we went by rail eastward through Rus- sian Turkestan to Andijan ; thence by caravan, over the Trans-Alai Mountains to Kashgar in Chinese 1 56473 IV Preface Turkestan ; thence skirting the Taklamakan desert, through Yarkand and Khotan to Polu, a village on the slopes of the Kuen Lun Mountains ; thence up to the Tibetan plateau, whose north-west corner we explored, passing through the unknown region called Aksai Chin ; thence out through Ladak and Kashmir to Rawal Pindi on the railway; thence to Bombay. The disasters which overtook us on the plateau were those more or less familiar in the recitals of other adventurers into this most difficult land. We travelled for eight weeks, never at altitudes less than 15,500 feet, often rising to 18,500 feet. The country is quite barren and uninhabited, and the cold is ex- treme. Hence the ponies rapidly die, thus imperil- ling the lives of men, who, at such elevations, must have transport. The hardships were in every re- spect more severe than those experienced by me in a considerable journey in Africa from Somaliland to Khartoum. The Turkestan region, at a much lower level than Tibet (about 3500 feet), offered little difficulty. Its historical interest is great, and has direct relation with the development of European civilisation. Geo- graphically and topographically the Central Asian region differs so much from familiar lands that it must be closely studied in order to be understood. In many parts of Asia (but not all), the civilisa- tions, both past and present, have had as their physical basis a highly developed irrigation system. Consideration of the facts presented to the traveller and to the student has led me to conclude that irri- gation-civilisations are of a special type. They are easily distinguishable, not only from commercial or Preface v military societies, but also from agricultural societies of the kind familiar to us in Europe and America. Such a view of the matter, when properly worked out in detail of proof and conclusion, seems to me to contain the key to certain historical problems of the first importance. In the following pages it has not been possible to do much more than to state the theme; I hope to give it full treatment at a later date. Meanwhile, I shall be gratified if the interest of some inquiring and critical minds should be awakened by the suggestions now presented. In Western and Eastern Turkestan, respectively, the traveller may observe, and compare, Russian and Chinese colonial administration. Most inter- esting are the indications thus given of the charac- teristics of two peoples now challenging the world's closest attention. Incidentally, one is of course drawn to consider the general relation of Europe to Asia. I trust that if any of my readers have been uneasy as to the Yellow Peril, these pages may quiet some fears and awaken some charities. The recent British attack upon Tibet is of much more moment, I believe, than would be inferred from the isolated situation and relative weakness of the Tibetan people. Although at this writing the withdrawal of all British representation from Tibet may seem to leave matters almost in statu quo ante, it can scarcely be presumed that so considerable an effort will be permanently left without result. The whole affair seems to have been largely due to one man the late Viceroy, Lord Curzon. London in- fluences seem never to have gone heartily into this lamentable excursion, and the treaty dictated by vi Preface the Viceroy was emasculated by the Home Govern- ment. But a fixed source of irritation has been created. Ultimate re-conquest by the stronger party will doubtless be the result; and permanent occupation of Tibet, as provided by the Curzon or Younghusband treaty, will doubtless be established. In such case a new situation arises in Asian politics. The two great rivals, Russia and England, will knock at China's back door, hidden from our view. Discussion of the history and institutions of Tibet and of the present political situation occupies a con- siderable part of my text. Knowledge of the geo- graphical situation is of the utmost importance in dealing with these topics. I feel myself fortunate in that no official obligation of any kind burdens me in the expression of the opinions that have arisen from such direct observation and subsequent study as I have made. It is, I believe, true that all others (save perhaps Sven Hedin) who have visited these secluded regions in recent years are more or less embarrassed by some official or personal ties. It is not meant by this to assail the honesty of the views expressed by the two correspondents (Messrs. Lan- don and Candler) who were permitted to go with Colonel Younghusband, and who have written very interesting and valuable accounts of the historic march to Lhasa. Yet it may fairly be expected that men who have been given such unique favour by official influence should either openly approve the official policy or maintain a gentlemanly re- serve. In differing with the authors just named as to the wisdom of the Tibetan War, considered only as affecting the material interests of the Empire, I Preface vii find myself in accord with many opinions emanating from men of weight in England. The moral aspects of the matter demand the deepest concern of all citizens of the predatory states constituting the "civilised world." That this particular war finds, even in England, only apologists rather than parti- sans, must be taken as a sign of progress away from violence. In considering polyandry, the peculiar marriage institution of the Tibetans, I have been led to point out the dependence of all marital forms upon property considerations. The special adaptation of Tibetan unions (of various sorts) to peculiar land- conditions is, I trust, presented in a manner which will convince without offending. Perhaps many of those who may read this book are less concerned than is the writer about religion in general. To such it will doubtless seem that the faith and the works of Mohammedans and Buddhists are too frequently put in contrast with the corre- sponding elements in the life of Christendom. And to some it may seem that this contrast is urged with prejudice against the religion of our Western world. But prejudice lies not in the mind of one who be- lieves, as I do, that all thoughts, acts, and things are, alike, the creations of one Power. Hence con- cerning the philosophisings which may be encoun- tered in these pages only two charges may be held possible honest error in the substance and uncon- scious faults in the treatment. Among recent works (not given in the bibliography of Tibet in the Encyclopedia Britannica, ninth edi- tion), the following may be mentioned as helpful. Vlll Preface Mr. W. W. Rockhill's Land of the Lamas, M. Ore- nard's Le Tibet, and Mr. Landon's Opening of Tibet are the most important works, in English or French, bearing on this subject. The recital of Sarat Chandra Das, an East Indian surveyor who went to Lhasa some ten years ago, is of value and is in English. The journeys made by Sven Hedin, Welby, Deasey, Bowers, Littledale, and Bonvalot have been also put before the world in instructive form. The British Blue-books are as a mine of wealth but the gold must be separated from the dross therein, which is bulky and cumbersome be- cause of the repetitions involved in printing hier- archical correspondence. The British public chiefly, and the general reading world beside, have been already stirred by the revelations contained in the Blue-books from which considerable extracts appear in appendices to this volume. The careful reader will desire to be refreshed concerning his recollec- tions of these official recitals; hence the rather lengthy citations. It is hoped that the Tibetan songs appearing in an appendix will be appreciated, not only for their literary value, but also for the intimate view afforded by them of the characteristics of a people who are as yet very unfamiliar to us. A considerable collec- tion of such songs has been made by several of the Moravian missionaries at Leh. This graceful work, added to their more serious undertaking, should win for these noble men a general gratitude. O. T. C. WASHINGTON, D. C., U. S. A. September i, 1905. CONTENTS PAGE CHAPTER I RUSSIAN TURKESTAN ACROSS BLACK SANDS FROM KRASNOVODSK TO ANDIJAN .... I CHAPTER II ANDIJAN TO KASHGAR OVER THE HILLS AND FAR AWAY 23 CHAPTER III KASHGAR THE YELLOW PERIL TAOTAI AND CON- SUL GENERAL 36 CHAPTER IV KHOTAN DREAMS OF THE PAST DOUBTS OF THE PRESENT 52 CHAPTER V ON TO POLU AND THE LURE OF THE UNKNOWN. 64 CHAPTER VI A PLUNGE TO WHITHER-AWAY THE AKSAI CHIN OR WHITE DESERT 78 CHAPTER VII CAMP PURGATORY PHILOSOPHY AND RELIGION VS. PROBABLE DEATH KIRGHIZ SAMARITANS . 97 ix x Contents CHAPTER VIII PAGE GLACIERS, YAKS, SKELETONS, A LOVE AFFAIR, AND A HIGH SONG ON THE KARAKORAM ROUTE . 108 CHAPTER IX TREES, TIBETANS, AND THE TELEGRAPH PANAMIK AND LADAK LEH I2O CHAPTER X LADAK LEH TO RAWAL PINDI FROM YAK TO RAIL- WAY VIA PONY TRAIL, OVER THE HIMALAYAS, INTO THE VALE OF KASHMIR . . . .131 CHAPTER XI A LITTLE STUDY OF THE MAP .... 141 CHAPTER XII THE TIBETAN PEOPLE POLYANDRY AND MONAS- TICISM 146 CHAPTER XIII RELIGION . -. 167 / CHAPTER XIV INDUSTRY AND ART TIBETAN ARCHITECTS CARA- VAN VS. RAILWAY ...... 178 CHAPTER XV SKETCH OF TIBETAN HISTORY FROM MISTY BEGIN- NINGS, 350 A.D. (?), TO JOHN BULL'S APPEAR- ANCE 185 Contents xi CHAPTER XVI PAGE A CENTURY OF IRRITATIONS THE FUMES OF THE OPIUM WAR CLOUD THE POLITICAL SKY FATHERS HUC AND GABET .... 2OO CHAPTER XVII CHASTENING OF HERBERT SPENCER BRITISH POLICY CONTEST FOR A BARE BONE PRESENT PO- LITICAL SITUATION 214 CHAPTER XVIII THE WOLF AND THE LAMB COMMERCIAL CON- VENTIONS AND CHRIST'S CODE WHAT is THE RIGHT ? . . . . . . . 228 CHAPTER XIX COUNSELS OF PERFECTION 248 CHAPTER XX THE SACRIFICE OF YOUNGHUSBAND WHAT NEXT ? 255 CHAPTER XXI SKETCH OF THE HISTORY OF TURKESTAN . . 260 APPENDICES 274 INDEX 325 ILLUSTRATIONS PAGE YAK-CARAVAN ON THE SASER GLACIER, IN A SNOW- MIST, 18,000 FEET ELEVATION . Frontispiece IN THE HEART OF 'BOKHARA " CITY WATER- WORKS" 6 Photo by Comte Berlier. BEAUTIES (?) OF BOKHARA 10 THE BOY-BAYADERES OF BOKHARA ... 14 ONE OF THE CITY GATES, BOKHARA 18 Photo by Comte Berlier. A SAMARCAND JEWESS IN CEREMONIAL ATTIRE . 22 From Turkestan Russe, by M. H. Kraflft. THE RIGHISTAN, SAMARCAND .... 26 RUINS AT SAMARCAND 30 TAKING A REST IN SAMARCAND .... 34 COMMITTEE OF RECEPTION IN A VILLAGE OF CHI- NESE TURKESTAN 40 MADRASAH KHODJA-AKHBAR, NEAR SAMARCAND . 46 From Turkestan Russe, by M. H. Krafft. RUSSIAN CHAPEL AFTER THE EARTHQUAKE ANDIJAN 50 IN FRONT OF THE OFFICERS' CLUB AT OSH . . 56 RIVER BANK AT OSH ...... 60 Photo by Comte Berlier. YOUTH AND MIDDLE AGE IN OSH ... 64 xiii xiv Illustrations PAGE TYPICAL IRRIGATED REGION NEAR OSH . . 70 RUSSIAN OFFICER COMMANDING THE BORDER-POST NEAR RUSSIAN-CHINESE FRONTIER . . 74 CROSSING THE TRANS- ALAI MOUNTAINS . . 80 A COTTON-CARAVAN TRANS- ALA! MOUNTAINS . 84 A KIRGHIZ FAMILY UNDER OBSERVATION . . 90 HOLLAND, AMERICA, ENGLAND, AND RUSSIA IN KASHGAR . . . . . .94 A KASHGAR CROWD 100 A MORNING BATH AT KASHGAR .... 106 A BUSY CORNER IN KASHGAR . . . .no KASHGAR TYPES . . . . . . .114 FATHER HENDRICKS IN HIS PRIVATE CAR . . 118 A TYPE IN KHOTAN 122 BUSY TRADERS IN KHOT AN 126 SPECIMENS OF MANUSCRIPT RECOVERED FROM A SAND-BURIED CITY OF THE TAKLAMAKAN DESERT 130 SPECIMENS OF MANUSCRIPT RECOVERED FROM A SAND-BURIED CITY OF THE TAKLAMAKAN DESERT ....... 136 CLAY ORNAMENTS FOUND IN A SAND-BURIED CITY OF THE TAKLAMAKAN DESERT . . . 140 OUR RESCUE PARTY AT CAMP PURGATORY . . 146 CAVE-DWELLERS NEAR POLU 150 THE BEG OF POLU AND CALIBAN .... 156 FRIENDS OF RAS WORKE", ABYSSINIA . . . 162 Photo by Mr. J. H. Baird. Illustrations xv PAGE A STIFF BIT OF UP-GRADE NEAR POLU . . 168 OUR GRAIN TRANSPORT UP POLU GORGE . . 174 RELOADING AFTER A BREAK-NECK PULL . . 180 THE AUTHOR AT KARAKORAM PASS . . .186 CAPTAIN ANGINIEUR TAKEN AT ELEVATION OF 18,000 FEET 190 THE PILGRIMS AT AN ELEVATION OF 18,000 FEET ........ 196 SEEKING A WAY THROUGH UNKNOWN MOUNTAINS . 202 MAN-HANDLING THE LOADS. MIR MULLAH IN MIDDLE GROUND 210 THE AUTHOR TAKEN AT ELEVATION OF 18,000 FEET 214 TIBETANS OF NOBRA VALLEY . . . 218 WAYSIDE TOMBS (CHORTENS) IN THE NOBRA VAL- LEY . . . . 226 A HAPPY HOME IN TURKESTAN .... 230 EXAMPLE OF MYRIAD PRAYER-STONES (HALF NATURAL SIZE IN THIS CASE) . . . 234 " Om mani padme Hun." WHERE WATERED SANDS BURST INTO LIFE . . 240 TYPICAL CHORTEN IN TIBET .... 244 KING'S PALACE AND REMARKABLE GROUP OF CHORTENS IN LADAK LEH .... 248 A VIEW IN LHASA 252 Photo by the Buriat Dorjieff. Furnished through cour- tesy of the National Geographic Society. xvi Illustrations PACK A CORNER IN LHASA 256 Photo by the Buriat Dorjieff. Furnished through cour- tesy of the National Geographic Society. A STRUCTURE IN LHASA 260 Photo by the Buriat Dorjieff. Furnished through cour- tesy of the National Geographic Society. TIBETAN BOOK, AS TAKEN FROM THE " LIBRARY." LEAVES FROM TIBETAN BOOK . . . 264 MAP OF CENTRAL ASIA ... .AT END Showing route of Captain F. Anginieur and Mr. Crosby. TIBET AND TURKESTAN TIBET AND TURKESTAN CHAPTER I RUSSIAN TURKESTAN ACROSS BLACK SANDS FROM KRASNOVODSK TO ANDIJAN OERIOUS changes, of international importance, O are about to be made in Central Asia, where conditions are known but vaguely, except to certain officials who can speak only in accord with the poli- cies they serve, and to a few travellers. Concern- ing the actualities in Turkestan and Tibet, there is an English administration point of view which is loudly proclaimed; a Russian administration point of view which is imperfectly known to Western Europe; a Chinese administration point of view, which cannot be frankly expressed by the Peking Government; a Tibetan point of view, which is vainly uttered to the unresponsive snows; and an independent point of view, which I endeavour here to set forth. When one observes the activities of three great empires, four great religions, and a dozen races, interacting among conditions whose simplicity permits sharp definition, he may perchance see things that are somewhat hidden in the larger, overwhelm- ing world to which we belong. 2 Tibet and Turkestan On the map of Central Asia, not many years ago, it was all Turkestan. Now it is Russian Turkestan and Chinese Turkestan. Soon it will be simply Russia. You may, if you care to, get aboard with me at Krasnovodsk, on Caspia's shores, and sweep across the black deserts to Bokhara, Samarcand, Andijan ; thence onward, but not by rail, to far Tibet. The little special car which you enter will make us com- fortable enough that is, comfortable as may be in a July crossing of hot sands. I shall first telegraph my thanks, anent the car, to the Russian Railway Minister, acknowledging his great courtesy in car- ing for an American traveller who has no special claims upon him. Then let me introduce to you your travelling companions Captain Fernand An- ginieur of the French army, and myself. He and I have known each other just three days. We met in Tiflis, over there in the Caucasus, on the other side of the sea. Captain Anginieur intends going the length of the Trans-Caspian railway ; and since he has heard of my plans in re Tibet, is already re- volving a request to his Ministry for permission to go with me. You are to know him very well, and hence you will like him very well. Meanwhile he helps to fill with cheerfulness the cozy little carriage, which contains a bedroom, a sitting-room, a wee storeroom, where the moujik makes tea, and a toilet room with a shower-bath! Think of that, O dusty traveller, even of the first class! Think of that and envy us, while we vow many candles to Prince Khilkoff, Minister of Railways. Whether the moujik stands up all night in the Russian Turkestan 3 kitchen or whether he sleeps in the narrow corridor, we know not ; he is always at hand, always making tea, which we are always drinking. He is an ideal porter-valet-cook combination. Let me present to you also Joseph, our interpreter. He was found in Tiflis ; he speaks French admirably, and of Oriental tongues, Russian, Persian, Turki, Armenian, a little Arabic, and, if there be a surviving dialect of it, Chaldean, for by race Joseph is a Chaldean; he lived until recently in Persia ; he was educated by a French missionary ; has journeyed as far as Kashgar with French travellers, and promises to go there, yea, even beyond Kashgar with us. He is a rather weak little man, honest, I believe, and well informed altogether a superior representative of that disap- pointing class, Asiatic Christians. He called me "Excellence" until he discovered that my purse and manner made no special response. Joseph is trav- elling second-class, but he is a neat person and does n't look rumpled in the mornings. He forages at the well-appointed railway restaurants which are a precious fruit of Russian civilisation. We go for- ward to the dining-car ; yes there is a dining-car in Turkestan! In it are plenteous vegetable soups, cucumbers ad infinitum, good meats, cold drinks. The service is slow, but clean enough. Here you meet the Russian officials and their wives going to distant duty in the queer places which now bear the Czar's yoke and enjoy the Czar's peace. Here, too, you may meet, on this particular journey, three charming young French gentlemen, who are going as far as Samarcand, thence returning, and up the Volga thence across Siberia. Two of them are 4 Tibet and Turkestan Ecole Polytechnique men both sons of prominent railway officials. Their culture is wider and deeper than that of young American or English engineers. In observing a given thing they see more of its re- lations with the rest of the universe than we ordi- narily see. You and I, O Anglo-Saxon spirit-companion, shall find that our forty-year wisdom may learn much from twenty-five-year French intuition, and we shall learn to doubt the meaning of the word "decadence" as applied to the ripest but not rottenest people of our European world. A sug- gestive thing it was to watch Anginieur and these other temperate, complicated, critical, sensitive, in- tellectual Frenchmen in their amused association with the lusty, simple, strong, confident, physical Russians. What strange secrets hath nature in the mixing of clay to make men ! Some sure bond there undoubtedly is between chemistry and psychology, but alas! the formula of that bond is the Great Secret which man, I think, shall never know. Thus it was that I could but ruminate and wonder, while listening for hours to the explosive French jargon of a young Russian officer, whose hairy breast heaved, whose bold, kind eyes glistened, whose brow ran wet while he drank at us, jested with us, rattled all the cups of the dining-car, and explained by his sole personality the measureless strength of his people. A mere commentary on this personality seemed the conquered deserts through whose heats we travelled, whose children we saw quietly gathered at the stations which had been battle-fields whereon the Cossack Christ overcame the Turcoman Mahomet. Russian Turkestan 5 When the great bridge across the Amou Daria the classic Oxus has been passed, when our re- luctant eyes have again turned from its cool flow to the dark, hot sands, the Russian officer recalls to us the hardship his people suffered in constructing this railway, which is a mighty engine of war, and a yet stronger implement for peace. The Oxus once flowed to the Caspian Sea but the Amou Daria flows to the Aral basin ; truly an erratic, radical change to be made by a great, dignified river. Yet not less radical has been the change in the political destiny of all the vast region which the river trav- erses. And as there is now no other basin to which it would seem possible that its waters could run, so there seems no other power than Russia which could govern this Central Asian region. Neither of these parallel propositions shall here be argued at length, but a relief map and a skeleton history would establish both. Bokhara is our first halting-place. We find and monopolise the three rooms of a decent boarding- house near the station, in the small Russian settlement. Here is the residence of the Czar's representative who "advises " the Emir and whose advice is so singularly sound that it is always followed. The relation thus established is one of the oldest in political history, and may safely be recommended to any strong power desiring to econ- omise its strength, while never ceasing to threaten and "protect " the weaker one. From the Russian town we drive over to the native city fifty thousand people or more pro- tected by several miles of sand from the rush of the 6 Tibet and Turkestan desecrating locomotive. The bazaars are like ani- mated tunnels, being narrow streets covered over with matting or boughs that the sun's intemperate rays may not burn up the busy movement of parti- coloured people who patter back and forth, passing the squatting merchants. You enter by way of melons quantities of them, on both sides the big city gate; you progress through brass-work, iron- mongery, saddlery, butchery, cookery; then you are in a sort of focus of bazaars, and the appetising fumes from open-air restaurants may float tempta- tion in half-a-dozen directions. Near by are sweet- meats, then brilliant skullcaps, then European calicos, then true, fascinating Bokhara silks; then, around a corner, are equally fascinating rugs, then sweetmeats, then spices, vegetables and all garden truck and then and then so it goes through all the series of wants of this Mussulman ant-hill. Not many women are seen, but the colour-effects of the crowd are made startling by the backs of men clad in gay hues. At the silk counters are a few ladies, formless in their all-enclosing cloaks, the long black veils falling like a great ink stain on a coloured page. Through little windows sewed jealously in the veil- ing, or around its perilous edge, their unseen eyes peer at the soft tissues of strange designs, and their low, controlled voices urge a zestful bargain to tardy conclusion, so sweet is that universal communion between Possession and Desire. The very close concealment of women's faces seems here to be pro- portioned, when compared with fashion in other Mussulman cities, to the reputation for superior sanctity so long enjoyed by Bokhara. Its teachers i: V : m \ | 1 u o PQ Of THE Russian Turkestan 7 have gone out to preach the very letter of the Koran the letter of rigid practice among the Faithful, and of rigid hate against the Infidel. Until the day of the railway, the European's presence in any one of Bokhara's eighty mosques (somehow fabled to be three hundred and sixty-five) was ever a probable cause of riot. But all this has been changed by the Russians. One is now as safe in the Emir's territory as in Mos- cow. His army, which we saw manoeuvring hand- somely under its native officers, has been organised by Russian advice and is tamely uniformed and armed in European fashion. Because he feels irri- tated by the watchful supervision of the Muscovite ; because he is saddened by the vain show of emascu- lated power, which is now all that remains of a former omnipotence; because he is a lazy lover of luxurious ease for one or all of sucli' surmised reasons, the Emir has left the rather tawdry palace just outside the city's walls, and now dwells in re- tirement some thirty or forty miles away, returning only on state occasions or when some unusual oc- currence draws him to his capital. We were told that such visits were not relished by his subjects, over whom the vestige of his power may yet be tyrannically exercised in many petty matters. One must not, however, take too literally the point of view adopted by European administrators, or their native sycophants, in a subjugated Asiatic state. Practices that seem the sheerest abuse of power, even to the Russian, may yet be not disliked in these communities, whose traditions and whose present sentiments we but dimly apprehend. Nor 8 Tibet and Turkestan should occasional violence be taken as conclusive evidence of a radically bad status. Were the game of interference played among populations less pli- able than those making up the majorities in Central Asia, it would certainly be found that the benefit of mere regularity in a foreign-born government would not be accepted as against native, though violent and tyrannical rule. The truth of this proposition has been abundantly shown in the fierce resistance of Bokhara's neighbour state Afghanistan to British or Russian domination. But the Turkestan majorities are sheep-like people, accustomed ever to be mastered by some hardier, wandering folk from the far east plains of Mongolia or the nearer steppes and mountain valleys wherein irrigation methods are impossible, and hence where the struggle of man for daily bread and comfortable shelter develops those qualities which make conquerors of wanderers, or more yielding rebels of those who plough the stiff soil for an uncertain crop. Not generally in the study of history's lessons have we sufficiently emphasised the special charac- teristics due to the unvarying fertility, the enervat- ing facility, and the great vulnerability of irrrigation systems. Societies have been divided into nomadic, agricultural, manufacturing, and commercial types. The distinction that has not been clearly made and studied in its very important results is that which makes a separate class of the irrigating agriculturist safe against climatic risks; crowded in small holdings; dependent on combined action for the construction of irrigation works; the ready victim of any violence which seizes some certain ditch. Con- Russian Turkestan 9 trast him with his brother who lives by the grace of uncertain rains ; forced to a prevision which makes the lean year borrow from the fat ; able to live wide away from his neighbour, developing thereby an independent individualism which may ripen into civil order and liberty ; each farmer whose land has its own water-supply capable of making some mili- tary resistance. There is not space in these pages to develop an un- familiar principle which has its demonstrations and applications in the foundation and growth of almost all human history. We must ask a large exercise of inferential reasoning, based upon the scant sug- gestions which have been outlined, or a large faith on the part of those whose tastes refuse to drudge the details out of which generalisations are made. To leave this subject, without leaving the country through which our journey now takes us, is hard indeed; yet it is a duty which one owes to the general reader, who, according to all sound morality, should not be dragooned into being a specialist. Let it go at this the dense, settled populations of culti- vators and small tradesmen in all the great artificial oases of Turkestan (Russian and Chinese) are like so many fat sheep when viewed by predatory wolves such as you and I, or such as the fierce mountain tribes or hardy nomads. Down any bazaar in Bo- khara, Samarcand, Andijan, Kashgar, Yarkand, Khotan, you and I, each armed with but a shillalah, might victoriously drive the herded, happy people, provided always that there chanced not to be within the herd some Kirghiz, mountain Afghan, or no- mad Turcoman. What you and I can do others io Tibet and Turkestan have done and thus the checkered history of Cen- tral Asia and India has been written for lo ! these many centuries. 1 Again we rumble over black sands, leaving the gardens and groves of Bokhara behind us. We have seen the city as Alexander saw it, save that it was larger, I think, in his day, and perhaps there were no cotton-fields round about. Now we shall see Samarcand glorious from Tamerlane's day notable indeed when, as Marcando, it was destroyed by his great Greek predecessor. A little farther he marched north-eastward, but Samarcand may fairly be said to be the proper monument of Alexander's extremest reach in this direction, and only the Czar's recent conquests have ever carried European arms farther into Asia's heart. Here also may be marked the western verge of China's power, whose long arm once reached only to be withdrawn toward the great monuments which Tamerlane had left. This conqueror, who was of the Mongolian, virile strain, 1 The vast development of irrigation work now progressing in the far Western States of America will inexorably produce, generations hence, a type far less hardy in mental constitution than that which we now present. Were it not that these new regions are part of a vast country chiefly filled with people who must fight uncertainties, and were it not that no great neighbour lies close to their irrigated field, we might well hesitate to produce the conditions which shall, in turn, be the source of enormous wealth and little virility. Meso- potamia, Egypt, Bengal, Middle China, Mexico ! Since the first ditch was dug in your yielding soils how many billions of slaves have been engendered, fed, and reclaimed in death by your thirsting sands ! How many fretting tyrants have come down, with the fresh mountain dews upon their brows, to riot in your slave-breeding plains, and fatally to breed a later race of slaves, whose necks have also bent to later mountain men! Russian Turkestan 11 put upon Samarcand the crown of empire. Here he builded and some rulers after him the great mosques and tombs whose white-and-blue beauty it is so hard to suggest in words. Under their spell, even an unimaginative American may feel the same enthusiasm which moved a cultivated French travel- ler, M. Hugues Krafft, to express himself as follows: "Worthy of taking rank among the masterpieces of architecture, the 'great monuments of Samarcand ' ought to be known equally with the most majestic edifices of the Greeks, the Romans, our Gothic cathedrals of France, and the most celebrated creations of the Italian Renaissance. " Beyond the bridge commences the native city. The shops, the tea-counters follow each other, almost without interruption, along a gentle rise, up to the basin which immediately precedes the Reghistan. Here one is at the heart of 'old Samarcand,' at the centre of all the bazaars and in the midst of the population's most feverish move- ment. . . . Should I live a hundred years I should ever retain the extraordinary impression left upon me by the first sight of the Reghistan, with its madrasas and its many-coloured masses. . . . The horses of our light phaeton moving at a furious gallop, we made way through the Asiatic crowd ranged, immobile, on either side of the highway, and through people on foot and on horse, whom the stationed police scattered as best they could. Along the whole distance, the Sarts, hands crossed on breast, bowed and bent one after the other; and I might have thought myself an Oriental sovereign passing before his subjects, had I not known that these humble salutations were addressed solely to my companion (the Russian 12 Tibet and Turkestan Governor). Thus there was a hasty view of the Reghis- tan rilled with moving shops and with Mussulmans; of porticos and of minarets bright with shining faience which glistened in the sun. Beyond, there was the first sight of the majestic walls of Bibi Khanim and of the innumerable multitude which surged around them. Then, still farther, the marvellous view which dominates the plateau of Afrasiab and the sandy slopes occupied by the mosques of the Chah-Zindi. The impression which I experienced from this succession of fairy-like spectacles was so strong that I could scarce utter a word, wholly overcome by an extraordinary emotion, little guessed by my companion, doubtless long since accustomed to so much splendour. How many times since have I seen these scintillating monuments, that motley crowd, with- out ever tiring of the sight! " The most graceful of the marvellous structures, raised here by a tyrant's power, is a monument to the power of a yet more universal tyrant, him whom all delight to honour, the great god Love. Tamer- lane had many wives, probably loved many ; for it is a proof of a certain largeness of nature that a man's heart should go out to many women, willing, wanting to be loved. But chiefly this heart of many mansions was filled by love for Bibi Khanim, a fair maid from far Cathay. And when God took her away from the Emperor, he commanded her name to be given to this structure, great and beautiful as their love had been. Later, when mountain and desert and river had been crossed, I saw in the world of India another most beautiful monument to a dead queen, who pleased another Mussulman Emperor, and whose bones now lie in the Taj Mahal, at Russian Turkestan 13 Agra in the Taj Mahal, priceless pearl of archi- tecture. Think of it polygamous Asia's two most lovely structures are monuments to the triumph of wo- man's charm for man. Can the system, then, be all unjust, or all unhappy, or all wrong for the given conditions of climate, geography, topography, and, finally, of temperament? Perhaps so yet, then, a wrong ordained by the Power. We of European condition have been made to develop much mono- gamy with responsibilities, and some polygamy without responsibilities. Asia and Africa have been made to develop much polygamy, some monogamy, and some polyandry, all with responsibility. There is plainly a difference of social adaptability as there are differences of flora and fauna. Let us cease to curse our divergent neighbour. Let us cease to worship tribal gods, race gods, continental gods, let us try to feel that all trees and all men and all relations of things have been made by the same power and that they constantly obey it. At Samarcand Captain Anginieur and I were agreeably entertained by General Madinsky, Gov- ernor-General, in the spacious, handsome official residence. His goodness took practical form in the gift to me of an excellent Smith and Wesson. So perfect is the Czar's peace, that the General said he was tired of keeping a loaded weapon, a use for which had not occurred in many years of wandering throughout Russian Turkestan. I was glad to get even so small an addition to my armory which then consisted only of one Mauser pistol. The woes are many of him who would acquire arms of defence 14 Tibet and Turkestan in Russia. The old army rifles, now discarded, are tantalisingly numerous in the arsenals, and tantalisingly cheap, if only one could obtain per- mission to buy them. But even for a Russian officer such permission is by no means a matter of course and only the War Minister may give it. Of course, a dealer cannot handle military arms only sporting pieces and pistols ; perhaps you may buy the shot- guns (smooth-bores) without permit : for pistols, written permission is required, and report must be made of the purchase. The impromptu is not en- couraged in Russia. Surely, surely, the Russian, soldier or civilian, will woefully lack initiative surely he is but a weak competitor with, let us say, the American, if meas- ured man for man in the strife of war or industry. A hard saying, it may be thought, when one's mind dwells upon the brilliant intellects which may be met in St. Petersburg, or the faithful, patient moujik who is seen all over the great Empire. A hard say- ing, it may seem, when one thinks also of the cour- teous, watchful, intelligent officers who administer the wide lands through which our journey takes us who have created the substantial little white cities that guard the big black native towns. But they are too few -too few. And it remains, that if the average individual were strong in himself, then we should not see the cancelled columns of newspapers in hotel reading-rooms for the man in the street would then be wise enough to read whatever the London, Paris, or New York papers chose to pub- lish. We would not see the Jewish woman I chanced to meet in the Moscow police office, asking in vain Russian Turkestan 15 that she be allowed, without special report on each occasion, to go and come between the city and a near-by suburb whither her work carried her twice a week; for the average Russian would then be able to protect himself against the Jewish competition by ordinary means; while now his inferior intelligence makes necessary the brutal methods of protection which American workmen once used against Chinese coolies. We would not hear Russian officers con- gratulating themselves on having duty in the rela- tively easy-going borders of the Empire, because there excessive bureaucracy is sheer impossibility. It is in these border lands, I believe, that Russia will learn the lesson of ordered individualism which shall transform and glorify her future. I cannot forget the most vivacious Russian whom I met en route from Moscow to Tiflis a young electrical engineer who emphasised the fact that he was a Siberian, and because of that he insisted that he could understand America. Nor shall I forget the jolly station-master at Krasnovodsk, who refused the fifteen roubles offered out of deference to the false tradition which makes every Russian a bribe- taker, while he indicated that he would accept a lot of French magazines because their outlook was larger than the native literature. Nor shall I forget the ladies in the household of the Natchalik colonel commanding the Osh District. There were mother and daughter, and two young friends from Tash- kent, capital of Turkestan. One of these was a telegraph operator orphan, of a good family; all three were cultured young women, better musicians than the average well-educated American girl 1 6 Tibet and Turkestan speaking French, dancing prettily, nucleus of a true frontier aristocracy of refinement. They had been educated at Orenburg in Siberia, had never seen the Moscow-Petersburg form of Russian society, and would probably marry officers or civilians who like- wise know nothing of European Russia. So it was in far Kashgar. The old retiring Consul-General had spent a lifetime in Asia and now, the end of labour drawing near, he had decided to die, not in one of the great towns of the West, but in Tashkent, in the very heart of Russian Turk- estan. In Kashgar, too, were several civilians who had never been west of the Ural Mountains. It has been impossible to subject those frontier folk to Moscow discipline. True, there is always one re- servation due to the very essence of the Russian system, and which sharply marks off any Russian from any American, that is, he rarely talks politics with strangers; never, at least, any radical politics. He might though this is not on my part experi- mental knowledge question the wisdom of the pro- tection policy of his Government, or any such similar policy, but the form of his government seems to be adopted as a necessary background to life as a "form of thought." Either a loyalty, almost uni- versal, or a fear, equally universal (the former, I think), prevents the average Russian mind from entering this region, mysterious to him, familiar and vital to nearly all Europeans and Americans. Once outside this reservation, these frontiersmen in Asia show much of the self-reliance, the mental temerity which characterise our own frontier, or any other frontier occupied by strong men. Russian Turkestan 17 Now the conditions of life at the circumference are unlike those at the centre; the acceptable social organisation at St. Petersburg is not the same as that at Samarcand or Irkutsk. Sacred as are the old traditions now, for the period of expansion is short, it seems that they must be inevitably weak- ened by time and distance. Even now one may note, because this addresses the eye, that in the new cities men show less than in the old of fetish worship for the religious thing or priest; there is less genuflexion, bowing, and crossing, but not less of morality in practical life. In Russia, the Church, with all its forms, is part of the form of the State. He who finds himself unconsciously drifting from the one set of forms is also departing from the other. If the existing political body is unfit for the devel- opment of a great people, we may feel that in the ceaseless extension of its frontier the aristocracy is preparing conditions which shall operate to peace- fully modify those institutions which are inconsistent with reasonable individual liberty. Powerful as will be this retroaction from circumference back to cen- tre, it will not, I surmise, be of the violent character which may be expected in the centre itself. For these colonisations which have carried the Czar's flag so far, are made by men of old patriarchal customs. The father has himself a highly centralised au- thority ; he teaches and would enforce the tradition of loyalty to the Czar. Generations must pass be- fore you could make a radical of him. Indeed he might be expected to indefinitely propagate Czar- worshippers if it were not that the frontier ceases to be frontier. It has its big towns, in time; and a 1 8 Tibet and Turkestan big town that is vigorous not a Rome of the second century, or an Antioch is a favouring environment for the liberty germ. And such movements as may hereinafter begin in Siberian towns will have, if not too radical, a support from the farming class which, in Russia proper, is almost wholly lacking. There the peasantry is a black mass in which the town- lighted fire must burn slowly; it is a mass of coagu- lated ignorance and superstition. And it is moulded by the old landlord class, who are not in any coun- try good revolutionists. In the new Russia there are more settlers who own their lands they are in conditions which encourage wide-awakefulness ; and though the central Government endeavours to con- trol everywhere the consumption of that dangerous drug, education, yet it cannot wholly refuse satis- faction to a strong appetite prevailing in a great distant province. The cause of Reform in Russia will, then, I think, be something like this: In European Russia, vio- lent explosions in cities, violently repressed by the dull strength of the moujik; in Asiatic Russia, stub- born resistance against class privilege and against official tyranny of the irritating sort ; finally, steady demand for moderate reform in the direction of local (provincial) representative government, freed from bureaucratic veto-power, which now so largely stultifies the action of various elective bodies in Russia. Indeed it is not difficult to imagine these eastern provinces as being the seats of progressive, almost self-governing states, long before it will seem possible to yield reasonable quantities of reform to the older communities, made up as they are of a Russian Turkestan 19 thin layer of highly febrile material, overtopping a very thick layer of an inert mass. But however variant may be the progress in the Empire's wide stretch, I see nothing to suggest destruction of the essential unity of that Empire, or any cataclysmic change in its form. The local irritations in Finland, Poland, and the Caucasus, however justifiable they may be, cannot go to the length of establishing independent gov- ernments in an age which demands consolidation. Geographic and ethnical resemblances will tend to hold together all the vast tract H*om Moscow to Vladivostok save in the Turkestan -region which we are now traversing. Here, too, there is basis for unity of empire since all these regions must be administered by the superior race, whose members will never be considerable in these territories. They are a common heritage to the Russian people. When an inheritance is not easily divisible it be- comes a force tending to conserve unity or union among its owners. While thus of common interest, yet they give political might chiefly to the new Russia in Siberia. The best administrators for Turkestan certainly the majority of the forceful ones whom I met, are men who knew not St. Peters- burg. The case is analogous to that which would have arisen had not Mexico redeemed herself within the last twenty years. Under pressure from our Western States the Southern territory would have been annexed, and, not being ripe for amalgama- tion to our 'forms, would have been ruled by men from Iowa, Colorado, California. The man from Denver and the man from Omsk 20 Tibet and Turkestan are better frontier governors, generally, than the man from Boston or Moscow. Whatever may have been their birthplaces, General Medinsky at Samar- cand, and Colonel Saitseff at Osh, remain in my mind as fine types of the Californian, less one-tenth of his verve and nine-tenths of his political instinct. The Smith and Wesson, silent so long, exploded into a political discourse which now is ended, leav- ing us free to take train again for Kokand the first big town beyond Samarcand. Here the Russian quarter is again found ; avenues poplar-shaded and wide ; substantial white houses ; public carriages at the station offering a somewhat rickety service, but cheap and rapid. No monuments here to beguile us, but we meet a most agreeable Frenchman, one of several engaged in purchasing silk for shipment to Lyons. Besides the Russians, they seem to be the only Europeans having business interests in Turkestan. The very sharp discrimination of the Government in favour of its own subjects makes commerce an up-hill work for the foreigner. The Ko- kand bazaar is less interesting than that at Bokhara, but in a fairly good Russian shop we were able to make some purchases of dry groceries and canned goods, none of fine quality, all quite expensive and very Russian. Joseph assured us that Osh though thirty miles beyond the railway terminus, would be found to offer superior stocks because of the large garrison there, and the fact that it was a point of distribution to distant troops. So it was that we passed on to Andijan, poor tumble-down, earth- quake-shaken Andijan, southwestern terminus of the great Trans-Caspian Railway. Russian Turkestan 21 Here about three years ago ten thousand human lives and some dogs and horses were suddenly snuffed out because of something which a solar- system physician might diagnose as being merely a mild case of Asiatic colic. Our Mother Earth was indisposed, and she swallowed ten thousand of her children while shaking herself to rights. The death of each one of us, however regularly and decorously it befalls, does exemplify this singular appetite of the great mother, but an Andijan earthquake-feast advertises it, proclaims aloud the universal requiem "to dust returnest," and changes the ever-sorrowful " why " of our yearning race into the groan of one who is stunned to black unconsciousness. In the general ruin one sees the broken cross that crowned a Christian church, and there the muezzin tower, scattered now into mere fragments, that, fall- ing, crushed the roof of its mosque, consecrated by generations of prayer cross and crescent alike gone down in helpless confusion. But whate'er betide the dead, we know that the faith of the living faints but for a moment, and the yearning for help never dies. So it is, that now in fallen Andijan, until the mason shall again lift the graceful dome, we hear the prayers of the believers go up from the enclosure of hasty earthen walls, through a roof of thatch, half open to the sky. And I am awakened by the early chant of a Russian priest who, in his chapel on wheels blesses the union of two young moujiks. They have come, ere the sun is fairly up, from among the long line of railway carriages which shelter hundreds of their kind. They are wed- ded; and leaving the churchly car, while still the 22 Tibet and Turkestan attendants chant, they stumble across the rails, stolid, apparently unmoved; a few friends, smiling faintly, follow the pair with significant, but not joy- ous glances. Verily your Russian peasant is a mas- ter in concealing his emotions if he has any. Nay, but he surely has emotions of sorts ; for this railway chapel would not otherwise minister to people shaken from their homes, and the young peasants would not have demanded the priestly blessing on a venture to which they are invited by Mother Nature, who wants another crop, and another, and another for her perennial devouring. A Samarcand Jewess in ceremonial attire. From Turkestan Russe, by M. H. Krafft. CHAPTER II ANDIJAN TO KASHGAR OVER THE HILLS AND FAR AWAY AN affectionate good-bye to the special car, and we are off for a day's smart, hot drive to Osh. We stop there at the post-house, in charge of a simple Russian whose sick wife looks on while he tries to cook for the travellers. That he can make chai (tea) is incontestable. An all-comprehending soup he also makes. As to anything else, we prefer simple fare rather than watch his sloppy prepara- tions. The stable is very near, the flies are nearer, the smells are nearest, and the man's methods are dirty. We do not like him. Even his just division of labour between the cooking of our dinner and the washing of his little child, insistent at certain critical moments, could not disarm our hostility. But the morrow shall bring a change, for we know there are Russian officers at the sobranje, or club. To these we make ourselves known and soon are invited to make our beds in a comfortable room. And now we must stir, for Osh is the limit of wheeled transportation. A caravan must be organ- ised. Colonel Saitseff, local governor at Natcholik, looks at a letter which is addressed, not to him, but to Consul-General Petrovsky at Kashgar. It is our only authorisation, and was given me by the Minister 23 24 Tibet and Turkestan of Foreign Affairs at Petersburg. We had not known that special permission from the Provincial Governor would be required for leaving Russian territory. Anginieur, who has now decided to go as far as Kashgar, thinks that his quality as an officer of the nation, amie ct allice, may diminish difficulties. There are several days of uncertain, but courteous, negotiation. Colonel Saitseff heliographs and telegraphs. He then calls to say there is no one at Marghelan, the provincial capital, who could give the pass, but perhaps a personal note from him will be accepted by the Chinese frontier officials. An hour later we go to his office, where his aide, Captain Kuropatkin, brother of the famous general, surprises us by saying that the Marghelan governor has given consent. We are bewildered, but con- tent. The passes for ourselves, our men, and our ponies are duly made out in two languages, and when we hasten to bid adieu to the Colonel his daughter says he is asleep, but will see us when he wakes. A few minutes later his wife says he is not asleep, but has had a headache for several hours and begs to be excused. We are sorry and ride away, never having thoroughly understood the situation. Yet eventually all went well. The cara- van had been gotten together by the authority of the Natchalik, who evidently kept its prepara- tion wholly under control. When the permission to depart was promised for a certain day, the ponies were to be had at the moment ; when helio- graph delays occurred, the difficulty as to ponies began; when the delay ended, the ponies promptly reappeared. Perhaps the simple story of our Andijan to Kashgar 25 chanceful meeting at Tiflis seemed a superlative machiavellianism, invented to cover some interna- tional deviltry. The combination of an American, going as far as he could towards Lhasa, with a Frenchman who thought he also might make the venture, but would first go only to Kashgar, mean- time telegraphing to Paris for further instructions all this, occurring at military Osh, doubtless seemed to Russian official minds a thing to outwardly ap- prove and inwardly doubt. However, we were at last able to canter away from the Residency, hats off to Madame and Mademoiselle, feigning ease, all of us, as to the Colonel's non-appearance. Our little caravan of seven ponies was now well under way : we were off for Kashgar, about two hun- dred and fifty miles south-east, in Chinese Turkes- tan. There we must reorganise, for these men from Osh would go no farther. We had engaged a good- humoured Sart as cook and general helper. There were three men to take care of the ponies with bur- dens. We had paid the proper head man at Osh half the caravan hire, which amounted to $7.00 per pony for the whole journey. The Sart was to have $12.50 per month. Joseph was our luxury $2.50 per day and his food while with us, and half-pay for a reasonable period covering his return. This is princely hire, but what is to be done without an interpreter? Our food-supply had been increased by the purchase of a considerable quantity of coarse canned goods, some macaroni, rice, sugar, etc. Joseph had misunderstood Osh as a market-place, and consequently we fared badly for many days thereafter. 26 Tibet and Turkestan Just as we rode away I went to the postmaster, making what I thought to be a very clear arrange- ment as to the forwarding by next carrier of my chronometer (of the montre-torpilleur type), which had been notified to me as being at Andijan straight from a Petersburg dealer. The unresponsive official was asked to see the Colonel, if any sort of doubt could arise as to the immediate forwarding; we had already wasted some days, were anxious to go on, and in a moment of weakness I left the matter in that condition. Just why a man of some experience in travel should commit such folly I know not. A few months later there was full and fair punishment for my error. Indeed, my whole experience in life leaves me unconvinced concerning the necessity of a purgatory much less a hell as a device for "getting square" between justice and myself. Even you, gentle reader, who may be a profligate a seven-ways sinner could satisfy all of my mind's requirements for justice merely by having less of heaven, not more of hell than should fall to your righteous pastor, or to myself. The road was dusty, and it was hot, because Cen- tral Asia in July is always hot. But our mounts were fairly good; the country was green all about us through the twenty-mile strip of irrigation ; the people were interested and interesting. Altogether a fair start, only the recollection of the Colonel's compound of courtesy and of curtness to worry us. The first night out we slept happily under the spreading trees that sheltered an old Kirghiz, having two wives. He was a rare bird, by the way for the Kirghiz is almost universally a monogamic nomad. c oo bo 3 Andijan to Kashgar 27 And now comes the question how much, O gentle, general reader, do you want of detail about a journey across the Ala'i Mountains, from Osh, in Russian Turkestan, to Kashgar, in Chinese Tur- kestan? Half a dozen Russian telegraph-engineers, two small garrisons in Russian Turkestan, one small garrison in Chinese Turkestan, so much for the evidences of fixed civilisation along the two hundred miles of caravan route between the suburban villages of Osh and those of Kashgar. The Chinese frontier officer was more polished, less forceful, than the Russian post commanders. The only native in- habitants seen were Kirghiz, perhaps a half-dozen groups of tents, three or four in a group. We slept at times in these yurtes, smoky and smelly enough to make us prefer open-air beds except at most freezing elevations. The pasturage near the caravan route seemed not to be used to its full capacity. Joseph was told by the Sart that the Kirghiz com- plained of being forced by Russian soldiers to sell sheep for less than their proper value. Hence, he said, they had retired to secluded valleys. We passed many caravans, chiefly those bearing diminu- tive bales of raw cotton, trifles hoisted over the mountains by a toss of the horns of bulls rampant in New York and New Orleans for surely nothing less than fifteen cents per pound could pay such toilsome transportation. At the top of the Taldyk Pass, 11,800 feet above sea, we gave thanks to the Russian engineer who had smoothed the zigzag route, and memorial- ised himself in stone at the dizzy top. Here the complacent and prophetic Slav may widely gaze OF THE 31tY 28 Tibet and Turkestan upon mountain-desert, already won, and, eastward, sweep horizons which still salute the throne of far Pekin. Unless your mind be wholly given to con- templation of things abstract and general, or to things concrete and narrowly personal, you must feel something of thrill when, after Taldyk's descent, you stumble into the first Chinese station. The simple Cossack officer, with whom we ate black bread three days ago, was commissioned by a magic- worshipping, devout Christian tyrant in St. Peters- burg. This courteous yellow man, whose ragged soldiers light the way with paper lanterns, lives by the breath of an old woman who guesses at outside things from Pekin's thick-shadowed imperial gar- den. That barren ridge behind is the political ridge-pole of Asia. On one side are the electric light and the cherished rifle, on the other the fantastic lantern and the neglected battle-axe. On which side shall be found the greater number of units of happiness per capita of human beings I do not know. Three hundred years ago it would have been easy to say on which side could be found the greater light of human reason and civility and worth of all kinds save that of savage strength. Where shall be found fifty years hence the balance of value, merely as measured by European standards, we may not know. Playing prophet is but risky business since Japan began using Christian devices and has adopted our most popular paraphrase of the Sermon on the Mount, in which "blessed" is changed to "cursed," and the whole is spoken in sprightly tones by field artillery, accents given by magazine rifles, and the gathered fragments are legs and arms disjecta. Andijan to Kashgar 29 We have now our first experience in circumlocu- tory interpretation from French to Chinese. Joseph, receiving in French, transmits in his variety of Turki to our Sart, who repeats in the Kashgar variety to a local Beg, who roars it in Chinese to our host. Joseph's general education may have reached that of a high-school boy ; the Sart and the Beg may be classed as to book-learning among the infants. When my courteous French companion started this sentence on its travels, ''Tell him, Joseph, that in my country we are deeply interested in the phi- losophy of Confucius, and are constantly increasing our knowledge of all Oriental classics," it was wrecked at the first station out. Floundering across the Kizil Zu (Red Water) on camels, our ponies swimming free; drinking cool, acrid Kumyss on the hot mountain-side, frightening the upstart marmots into their underground homes; urging vainly the Sart to use his falsely credited art as cook ; encouraging and scolding the inept Joseph, whose lantern jaws declared that rough riding and doubtful fare were no longer possible for him thus we reached the villages which announced Kashgar, still three days distant. Food was again plentiful chicken, eggs, sheep, fruit and melons now re- freshed rebellious stomachs, giving complete inde- pendence of the deceptive Sart. The Turki people were curious and cringing; the Chinese, masters of the country, were indifferent, but not ugly. In an earthquake-wrecked village we climbed to their di- lapidated little temple, whose gods had not saved the people from ruin, and were correspondingly held, it seemed, in light esteem. 30 Tibet and Turkestan The twelfth day brought its promised reward, arrival at Kashgar, historic, populous, wide-scat- tered. Nearly three hours we marched our dusty way, past farms and villages, without interval ; past Mohammedan cemeteries whose coffined citizens were slipping down into the great rut which is the main highway; past groups of Turki workmen, ditch-digging under Chinese bosses ; past a great mud fortification wall into the heart of the town, focus of the oasis that breeds half a million souls nay, for what do I know of souls? half a million bodies. The small ones this year's crop are rolling about under our horses' hoofs, splashing naked into the little ditches that wondrously combine the office of aqueduct and sewer, and in fatal rhythm generate and destroy the brown masses that can surfer, enjoy, and die. Looking at lovely white women, elabor- ately covered, one may doubt a little that crude saying, "Dust thou art"; but here! Bah! there 's the dust, there 's the water. You feel that any one might have rolled the muck into the little bifurcated trunks which sprawl everywhere in the spawning sun. And now where shall we go ? Caravanserais there doubtless are, but that Europeans should lodge among natives that is infra dig., super-dirty, vexatious to all. Ordinarily you go to any resi- dent European, if such there be, and ask advice; or, if you know him, you bluntly ask a roof. My letter to M. Petrovsky should help us; and as to Anginieur, is not France friend and ally to great Russia? The caravan is discreetly halted a little way from the consular compound. We enter, are en C I Andijan to Kashgar 31 shuffled about by a loutish soldier, whom finally we browbeat into immediate delivery of the letter, which goes not to M. Petrovsky, who is old and wisely sleeps at 2 P.M., but to his assistant, a young officer, fortunately speaking French. We are court- eously received. Our host is evidently embarrassed when we ask about quarters ; at last, he helplessly asks if we know Colonel Miles, the British repre- sentative. "No," I reply, "but of course we shall; and may he not be able to direct us to quarters?" "Yes indeed!" This said rather eagerly sent us straight to our impatient caravan. Again we thread through narrow bazaars, defenceless gates and blind alleys, until the British compound is reached. What moral and physical security one feels on reaching, in the earth's far-away corners, Eng- land's straightforward officers, speaking one's native tongue! No, I am not an Anglomaniac, and I 've made a fine list of British faults waiting to be aired ; but when I think of Sir Rennell Rodd at Cairo, General Creagh at Aden, Captain Harold at Zeila, Sir John Harrington and Mr. Baird at Adis Ababa (Menelik's capital), Major Parker at Roseires on the Blue Nile, a lot of kind hearts at Khartoum, Miles here at Kashgar, Colonel Sullivan at Srinagar (in Kashmir) then I must make sure that manliness, kindliness, steadiness, frankness, shall be italicised as counterpoise to various misdemeanours which the list shall disclose. "This is Colonel Miles?" "Yes." "This is Captain Anginieur, of the French army, and I am Mr. Crosby, an American traveller. I 32 Tibet and Turkestan have no letters to you, Colonel, but am sure we have mutual friends in London. We have just come over from Osh, and would like to know where we may find lodging in Kashgar." "Why not stop here with me?" "Gladly, Colonel." Such was the beginning of a six days' "at home" with this sole Britisher in all Turkestan. His mis- sion is that of sentinel on the picket line of empire. Uncomplainingly he labours under the awkward title, "Temporary Assistant to the Resident at Srinagar for Chinese Affairs." And Consul General Petrovsky had a habit of saying, whenever questions arose between British and Russian subjects, ''Mr. Miles, my good friend, we shall discuss this matter, not because you have any official position justifying a demand, but because I like you." There was un- necessary emphasis on the "Mr.," for Miles's rank in the Indian army is independent of his temporary duty. Yet, in a way, M. Petrovsky was right Colonel Miles's civil title is an absurd and embarrass- ing one, save on the theory that London might in some crisis freely disavow or adopt the acts of an official in Chinese Turkestan, who is a mere assistant to an official in "independent" Srinagar, who is in turn named by an official in Calcutta, who reports to the Secretary of State for India. The enjoyment of such independence in Downing Street may easily outweigh many years of annoyance to the lonely sentinel in Kashgar. Colonel Miles helped us much in finding men and horses for the journey. The latter are easy, the former are hard, to obtain. The ordinary Andijan to Kashgar 33 Kashgari is not adventurous. Our three recruits for permanent service were: one an Afghan, Mir Mullah ; one a Ladaki, Lassoo ; and one a half-breed boy, a Yarkand-Kashmir cross, Achbar by name; he came at the eleventh hour, was joyously wel- comed, and as an interpreter for many days strenu- ously tried us. His vocabulary was painfully extended from twenty-five up to fifty words, and one blank stare. Achbar was the only human being available as interpreter in all the province about us. Joseph was exhausted ; he must return to the soft care of civilisation in Tiflis. The persons speaking European languages in Kashgar were the members of the Russian colony : Colonel Miles and his moon- shee (clerk), from India ; Father Hendricks, Catho- lic missionary; a Swedish missionary family of Lutheran persuasion ; and Achbar, whose English had come from another Swedish missionary, now dead. He had taught the boy to call the Bible "Angel Book," and enough of Christian doctrine to make of him an indifferent polytheist, ready to give youthful credence to any set of supernaturals pre- sented by any respectable authority. With all reverence for our Occidental faith, it may fairly be wished and believed that Achbar should soon be firmly re-established in the faith of his fathers, since, in the nature of the case, he could never be other than a hazy, slipshod Christian. His theology clearly resembled his English. After two days' labour to teach him the word "now" he startled me by stolidly saying: "You mean 'at present/ And when despair had come to close further exertion on the word "perhaps," there came 34 Tibet and Turkestan quietly this: "You mean 'probably.' ! So it was that all simple, basic ideas about God had been obscured by the good Swede's zeal to superpose Christ and St. John upon a still vivid background of early Mussulman teaching. Far from the full stature of the ideal convert was Achbar, yet he seemed to be the most complete accomplishment resulting from years of devout work by the Swedish mission. One other, indeed, an humble Chinaman, was thought to be nearly ready to adopt definitely the Christian title, his inner consciousness being left to negotiate a compromise like unto that which has already admirably conjoined Confucianism, Taoism, and Buddhism into a vague triple control of Chinese morals. Lassoo, the Ladaki, was, for our purposes, almost pure gold. The ways of the sahibs were known to him as familiarly as his money-pocket, for he had served in the household of Colonel Miles's predeces- sor, who had regretfully dismissed him as discipline for some wrong done to one of his Kashgar wives. So it was, I remember, with my caravan in Africa the cleverest native of the lot left Adis Ababa under some marital cloud, which should roll away as we wandered far; while he courted Danger's face, time might heal the bruised, too numerous tendrils of his unbroken heart. Must it be ever thus? Must the sprightly and inventive mind be found only in the shifting lover? To us Lassoo was faithful. Whether his fidelity ran to the person or to the rupee of the Christian dog, his employer, I know not; but he was steadfast and intelligent in moments of great trial. ' Andijanto'Kashgar 35 Mir Mullah, an eminently respectable merchant and horse-trader, had threaded the mountain passes of Afghanistan and Hindostan for many years yes, for too many years, as the event proved; when hardship and danger came the old man's strength wasted. The only valiant work he could do was that of prayer, while the need was but that is theology again. CHAPTER III KASHGAR THE YELLOW PERIL TAOTAI AND CONSUL GENERAL ASH GAR is the seat of a provincial govern- ment whose head is a Taotai. His power extends to that western verge of empire over whose rough border we have just passed. Among all the Chinese governors he is farthest removed by distance from the source of authority in Pekin. To what- ever difficulty this condition may create is added that inherent in the task of governing a population alien in race and religion, and the yet greater diffi- culty due to the aggressiveness of the neighbour- ing Russians. Between the Taotai and the throne there is, in the official hierarchy, one other magnate a viceroy, stationed about six hundred miles east- ward, and having all of Chinese Turkestan within his administration. As numbers go in Chinese pro- vinces, this proconsulate cannot be ranked high, with its one or two million souls, as against an aver- age of fifteen or twenty millions for the Eighteen Provinces. But its peculiar constitution and its exposed situation must give it importance as long as there exists in Pekin a government cherishing the prestige of the Great Empire. It was through this region that Mohammedanism has blazed its way 36 Kashgar 37 into China. The older faith there is peaceful, toler- ant; the younger faith, like its rival in Europe, is virile, militant, intolerant ; whence great wars in China proper, and revolt here in Turkestan, where bloody deeds were being enacted in the self-same epoch with Gettysburg and the Wilderness. The forty years that have passed since those great days seem to have worked out, in Western China, a status for the Mussulman fairly satisfactory to him and to his neighbour. Doubtless this might also be said of the Turki Mussulman (for his subjection to China is of long date), but that here the situation is again made complex by the " Russian advance." The importance and the sensitiveness of affairs in Kash- garia, as they are viewed in Pekin, seem clearly manifested by the fact that China has built and maintains a telegraph line from Pekin to Kashgar more than two thousand miles. We were aston- ished to learn this, more astonished on reflecting that this work, quite stupendous for China, had been completed without blowing of trumpets in- deed, so quietly that many well-informed Europeans have never given the matter a thought. It seemed to me most significant as to the unheralded develop- ment of material strength which may go on in China when her own scientifically educated people, or the headlong Japanese, shall be running in multitudes to and fro in the land. Invention's great miracles telegraphy, telephony are thus made an offering by America, the young- est to China, the oldest among great nations. Over this desert-spanning line, and from its terminus at Pekin, through the great submarine lines, the 38 Tibet and Turkestan heart of Asia may be put in simultaneous pulse with the heart of America. It is believed by some that when Asia shall have eaten of the fruit of the tree of modern knowledge, there shall arise a Yellow Peril, threatening the peace of the Caucasian world. That some dis- turbance of the present balance of things may be produced seems indeed not unlikely. But shall In- dustry be affrighted at the prospect of the birth of more coats, chairs, ploughs, and loaves in a world which ceases not to find that the appetites of men (white, black, and yellow) grow with feeding? And if we are really to be overwhelmed, is there not tariff and non-intercourse policy to keep us poor? Shall Morality be affrighted when mothers, all the world over, shall hear, each the other's common cry of pain and common speech of love? When Charity in one clime shall hear and answer the prayer of suffer- ing in every other? When Honour shall find a mir- ror, now held up in East and now in West, its lineaments everywhere the same? Shall Letters be affrighted when through the magic of the printing- press the rich stores of temple and of monastery shall be spread broadcast to feed and inspire thou- sands of hungry minds? Shall Religion grow pale? Nay, whoever hath the truth, let him rejoice, for the way shall be open to the preacher as it never was in all our dream-haunted past! It remains that these yellow men, become gods even as we are, shall perhaps desire to possess us as we now possess others. They may enviously study our accom- plished facts in India, Egypt, Manila, Algiers. They may dig up the history of the foretime dwel- Kashgar 39 lers in the two Americas. Yes, it is true, the strong shall possess the weak ; to their own good, we say. Then, when we shall be the relatively weak, our wisdom should be that of submission. If out of the long, death-like sleep of old age in the East (so it seems to some of us) there shall now be born a new youth, let it attend our senile steps, if so be we are now going a breaking pace which shall lead to premature decay. But that reversal of things, if indeed the Fates shall ever decree it, must be set off to a date so distant that wisdom refuses its consideration, and only jest or idle fancy paints the picture in. Within the interesting future say one hundred and fifty years any threat of a military movement of the United East against Europe would result in a United States of Europe and America an invin- cible, probably beneficent union. One might almost wish for some high heat of war to produce a fusion in which should be seared to death many childish differences childish, yet pregnant with strife and sorrow. Let the weak become strong 't will be easier to establish a balance. Let the weak become strong 't will be harder to make markets by the cannon's roar. Let the weak become strong 't will be easier to stifle a national avarice when its gratifications shall be made dangerous. Taking into account the covetousness and the kindness that are in us, the wisdom and the folly, it appears clear that there can be no condition of stable equilibrium until there be developed in the great national units a condition of approximately uniform strength military strength, manifest or 40 Tibet and Turkestan potential. Now, in respect to military strength, ignorance of physical science is weakness. If the Chinese, possessing organisation, intelligence, expe- rience, patience, and character, but lacking science, should be put under European rule, it could be only temporary : they would thus, perforce, get science and be strong. They will enter the syndicate of those who rule the weak. And these, the weak, we shall ever have among us because of certain ineradi- cable climatic race-differences which will always cause certain races to be subject to their neighbours of sterner mould. The great moral and intellectual qualities which have made the Chinese Emperor to be the "Elder Brother" to all Eastern Asia suffi- ciently mark the potentialities of this powerful people. Until these larger movements, shall have taken place it is profitable to the occasional Western traveller to study the dignity, the poise, the civil- isation of such a man as the Taotai of Kashgar. To this worthy official we paid due visit, interpre- tation being done by Colonel Miles's cultivated moonshee, a Mohammedan gentleman from Lahore, who tabulated his ancestry through the Prophet to Adam's self. Conversation ran in well-worn ruts health, age, number of children, nativity, present objective. When I pointedly asked that we might have letters of safe-conduct to Khotan and Polu, the old gentleman simply did n't answer, and soon began sipping his tea, a decorous signal that the in- terview was closed. We felt "in our bones" that the cautious Mandarin wanted to hear from M. Petrovsky before committing himself. We were, in a measure, under Colonel Miles's wing, yet, as we Kashgar 41 were in no way accredited to him, it was impossible that he should officially adopt us and ask the Taotai's good offices. The presence of his moonshee and our temporary establishment in his quarters went far to give us good character; yet, after all, we were chance wanderers, save in so far as the sealed letter to M. Petrovsky might give to me the harmless character of an American citizen without a mission, while Anginieur's claim to be a French officer entitled him to a certain consideration. But whether our simple story of accidental association was believed by M. Petrovsky we never knew. In our first interview with him, before visiting the Taotai, he had seemed to warm genially toward us, but utterly discouraged the venture up the plateau. He made no offer of assistance save that he would write to his repre- sentative in Khotan to help us there. Farther than Khotan, even if so far, he thought we should not go. If by chance we should reach the inhabited portion of Tibet he believed we would be killed, etc. Now, the old gentleman's conduct was a bit an- noying, yet reasonable enough from the Russian point of view. We were fairly under some suspi- cion as to our motives, and even if the simple facts were believed, it remained that our presence might produce complications in a region where Europeans are events, and where Russia's present preponder- ance of influence has been expected at any time to become Russian control. Such a situation is always delicate until worked to an accepted conclusion. China is still the actual and effective ruler. Great Britain is still an eager critic of all Central Asian 42 Tibet and Turkestan happenings, and ready, if to her it shall seem good, to write her criticism in the blood of men. Hence much discretion, much patience on the part of Rus- sia. The sixty of M. Petrovsky's consular guard, and the similar body strangely stationed at Tash- kurgan, up there on the shoulder of the Pamirs a hundred miles away, must idle away hours, days, years perhaps, before they shall be told to destroy the Chinese force, whose mean appearance suggests that butchers of men and butchers of cattle occupy the same grade in Chinese philosophy. The Tibet expedition of the British-Indian Government was not yet undertaken. Its normal effect would be to hasten the Cossacks' march of conquest from Kash- gar to Khotan, as a reprisal at China's expense. But the Japanese war, on the other hand, must tend to check him, if for no other reason than that every spring of action in St. Petersburg is now bent to- wards Manchuria. Meantime it is not to be desired by Russia that the minds of the Turkestan native should, by intrusive travellers, be disturbed from their simple conceptions. "We must be ruled by somebody. The rulers of the earth are the Chinese, who now possess us; the English, who possess India, and who do not seem much concerned about us, since there is but one sahib here, and he has no soldiers; and the Russians, who possess all the world to the north of us, and whose officer, with soldiers and merchants at his back, is able to do almost as he will with our Chinese masters. Besides these three great peoples there are none other rulers of men on earth." Such being the sentiments of a million or more Kashgar 43 of docile folk whom you would benevolently exploit by firm government and an exclusive commercial system, it appears plain as a pikestaff that vagrant French and Americans should not be encouraged to spy out the land and perhaps to create incidents out of which new ideas might be born. Would Cortez have welcomed independent English or French travellers in Mexico while he was preaching to won- dering Aztecs the doctrine of his master's universal dominion? Would the British have left a free latch- string to indiscriminate Europeans when they had undone the work of Dupleix in India, and were considered as special envoys of the gods, irresistible? Already the Russians have done much political and commercial pioneering in Chinese Turkestan. Our international code gives them what we call a "right" to garner the fruits of seed sown in wild places. We watched the play between Petrovsky and Miles with some amusement and much serious concern as to our plans. The cards ran to Miles. A parade of other nationalities through Turkestan could do no harm to British designs, which cannot reasonably look to conquest north of Tibet. And, small as was our individual importance, we might a little disturb the Muscovite program. The powerful Consul General could probably de- termine the Taotai's mind for or against us. As to the result we were left in dangling doubt until the very morning which we had set for our departure. Then came the Taotai's smug young secretary bear- ing letters which we might present to the Ambans in Yarkand and Khotan, and telling us that other letters would be written to the chiefs of nomad 44 Tibet and Turkestan tribes in the corner of the plateau still under Chinese direct control. M. Petrovsky also called in formal fashion, mounted Cossacks riding before and behind a quaint low carriage which looked homesick. He said that since he had so promised he would write his Aksakol (=zwhite-beard=chief of merchants) at Khotan to advise him of our coming. And, in- deed, the sleek Andijani who spoke for the Consul in Khotan was on the qui vive and watched us well, and did naught else. Whether our later misfor- tunes were in any way connected with the sealed letter, or were caused by the left hand of Chinese policy undoing the work of the right hand we never knew. Most probably 't was only the duplicity of the timid native Begs which undid us. A pleasant visit we had from a young Mandarin of great name, acting as mayor of Kashgar, under general direction of the Provisional Governor (Taotai). This young man was the son of a Man- chu general who reconquered, forty years ago, all Turkestan from the failing power of Yakoob Beg, whose rise and fall make the last great epic of ambi- tion which has been played across these sands and within these waving oases. While this delicate-featured, refined, peace-loving Asiatic was making his call, there came another caller, another Asiatic (?) whose personality, in its strong contrast with that of the young mayor, seemed to present the whole Russo-Chinese ques- tion. He was a captain of Cossacks, who might have been the original of the Russian officer in Kip- ling's powerful sketch, The Man Who Was. He had entertained us with song and drink, with tossing Kashgar 45 us up on the strong arms of his soldiers, who caught us in breathless fall, as rubber balls are caught ; he had reviewed military history in masterly order, and in the two languages we used ; he had declared, in good-humoured banter, that might is right, that his people had the might to take what they wished, and that they wished much of Asia. His manner was nervous with surcharge of energy; his spirit was vexed by inaction. He was impatient Aggression. The young Chinese aristocrat was patient Resist- ance, and between them Colonel Miles was interested Peacemaker. A fourth characteristic personality in the international good-bye assemblage was Father Hendricks, Hollander by birth, Christian priest by profession, Mongolian citizen by love of his heart, dweller in Kashgar by love of change, I suppose. A good man, a polyglot, a missionary without fol- lowers, a priest without a bishop, reporting only to the great one in Rome, and to him only as moved by the spirit ; a European plunged deep into Asia for, thirty years ; a lone man dreaming new sciences out of multitudinous but inaccurate data; hated by Petrovsky because he represented something other than Russia; liked by Miles for the same reason, and because of his goodness, his versatility, and his loneliness ; loved by some of the natives, who con- sumed his medicines; celebrating mass on a table whose untidiness measured the loss of one Dutch trait by a lifetime in Asia. Such was Father Hendricks. If his heart harboured any malice, 't was some- thing impersonal in the way of Russophobia justi- fied, he believed, by biblical condemnation. "They 46 Tibet and Turkestan are the cursed people of the north," said he. "But the Russians were not known to the old Hebrews," said I, ignorant. "Nay," he answered, "read you this." Then he must run over to the Swedish mis- sion, borrow a Swedish Bible, and show me Ezek. xxxviii., 1-4, reading in our King James Version as follows: "And the word of the Lord came unto me, saying, Son of man, set thy face against Gog, the land of Magog, the chief prince of Meshech and Tubal, and prophesy against him, and say, Thus saith the Lord God : Behold I am against thee, O Gog, the chief prince of Meshech and Tubal ; and I will turn thee back, and put hooks into thy jaws," etc. Now in the Swedish edition, plain as print can make it, stand the words "Prince of Russ," instead of "chief prince," for reasons good unto Swedish phi- lologists and unto all who love not the wide-spread- ing Slav. 1 A great comfort was this to one whose nature and whose creed forbade that he should curse the persecuting Petrovsky ! Behold, now, him and his all cursed together by Ezekiel ! The indifference which marks the attitude of all highly developed peoples toward religion appears in the relations between Father Hendricks and the various dramatis persona on our far - away scene. It is political or personal sympathy which binds or loosens amity here. If their national or indi- vidual interests chance to clash, no consuming zeal for common Christianity can weld together the half- dozen Europeans found far in a most sequestered 1 1 find our English Revised Version also reads as follows : " Set thy face toward Gog, of the land of Magog, the prince of Meshech, and Tubal," etc. c rt O u rt 5 nj C/3 t-i cti H On to Polu 7 1 great circle's quadrant separates you in space, a hundred kowtows separate you in social rank, but you stand together in one white man's memory as having given him, each of you, a bushel of trouble for an even bushel of reasonable suspicion against him ! Now, the things which the Beg did, or inspired, or seemed to inspire, were these : the desertion of the head-and-tail holders for our ponies before the plateau was reached; the disappearance of the donkey-caravan, bearing two-thirds of our grain- supply, of which a part was recovered ; and the de- sertion of our guide before he had taken us to an agreed point on the plateau, beyond which neither he nor we knew the way, but which we wanted as a tie-point on the map. It all smelled of treachery. But one never knows. We dealt through the un- speakable Achbar. There was room for some misunderstanding. The assistant caravan-men, eight in number, did excellent work for three days, fording the ice-cold stream scores of times, legs bare, coats soaked in the swirling torrent, no possibility of warming their half- frozen limbs. Then, all the frightful steps saving the last two having been surmounted, they disap- peared one after the other. The caravan was badly strung out impossible to watch them. Hence Achbar was told to promise backsheesh when the end should be gained. Their regular pay, fifteen cents per day, had been deposited with the Beg. The backsheesh would have nearly doubled it. The donkey men started away from Polu ahead of us. We stipulated that they should take 72 Tibet and Turkestan their burdens of grain, together with a live sheep and the bread-supply of one of our regular men, up to the top of the pass, thus relieving our own ponies. These were now sixteen in number, and their strength must be husbanded against the unknown, but surely great, demands which awaited them. We passed the donkeys the second day out on our way up; they were struggling bravely against mighty odds. We were harassed during four try- ing days, from Polu to the pass: horses falling in the torrents and slipping on the narrow trail, men and beasts breathing harder as we climbed into the thin upper air ; sahibs as well as servants sleeping in holes in the ground or in the open cold, because all were too tired to mend a broken tent-pole. But at last it was over, and we were camped about ten miles beyond the pass, which looks northward over all Turkestan and southward over the far-rolling, mountain-marked plateau of Tibet. We were warmed by a splendid sun ; the waters of a little lake shone at our feet, the tent was cosily set, there were grass-roots from which fire could be had to boil a pot of water for brewing tea, and for the softening of a hare which Anginieur had killed at fifteen thousand feet elevation; wild ducks and geese invited us to make resounding shots in the empty waste; we were tired, but happy, and we waited for the donkeys. Each one of us in turn played Sister Anna, mounted on some bare hillock and far-gazing across the desert which closed around us. No signs of life save an occasional hare and a troop of wild dogs. These must have been a hungry On to Polu 73 lot, as we saw no prey for them during several days' march, save one wild horse. A day and a half we remained in the lazy lap of repose. Then the sky clouded, literally and figur- atively. Each meal given to men and horses meant a shortening of the possible journey across the in- hospitable region which Mohammed Joo described as "Adam Yok," "There is no man," and which certainly extended a hundred miles or more in every direction. Two good men were sent back to search for the truants. They took three ponies, and on the next day returned, quite played out, but in a measure triumphant. No hide or hair of man or donkey had been seen, but they found, cast down by the trail-side, a part of our grain and our sheep, its throat having been thoughtfully cut. The miss- ing grain may have been stolen, or, more probably, lost in the torrents. The three ponies were just able to bring the salvage. On taking stock we found about a thousand pounds of grain. If each horse were given four pounds a day we were good for fifteen days. If we found occasional grass, or if we shot some horses as their loads were consumed, we could hold out yet longer. If we had no bad luck we ought to reach Rudok in about twelve days. As to the men, we were provisioned for thirty days. Perhaps we should have gone back, made a row, gotten more grain, and made a fresh start. But the trail behind us was a fearsome thing, worse now by reason of a snow-fall since the ascent, and we could not be sure of better treatment a second time. If we were to make a try at the plateau, it seemed best 74 Tibet and Turkestan to push on ; we might reach Rudok or meet nomadic Kirghiz. So off we started. Our guide, Caliban's double, had been ugly from the moment we crossed the pass, and Mohammed Joo had thumped him a little to keep him from balking. He was, or pretended to be, ill ; remem- bering that the mountaineers are occasionally sub- ject to nausea when taken to unusual elevations, we put Caliban on a pony, though none of our own men complained of anything more serious than shortening of the breath. We were then at an elevation of about sixteen thousand feet. It seemed wise to tie our Mercury to a less volatile element, and Mir Mullah was chosen for the role of anchor by night and shadow by day. Except for the cords that bound his legs to Mir Mullah's the fellow was well treated, and was promised backsheesh, besides the unpaid half of his hire, if he duly led us past Baba Hatun, an ancient, deserted Tibetan fort, to a point which had been agreed upon by Mohammed Joo and the Beg, and which we hoped to identify on the map. We were therefore disgusted and troubled when at the end of two long marches from the lake the guide was understood to say that we had already left Baba Hatun to the rear. Remon- strance was useless. We were told that the Beg had ordered us to be taken by another road, but that we should reach the other agreed point in two days. I remembered similar trouble in Africa. Not infrequently and not unwisely the simple native re- fuses to take explorers into his country if it has heretofore been free from the curiosity that finally upsets him. We wanted to be fair, and were forced bD On to Polu 75 to be patient. When we pitched camp at the end of a day's tortuous march Caliban was more cheer- ful than usual, chatting with our men in human fashion. The next morning Mir Mullah awoke with a free leg Caliban had vanished. With only a crust of bread he started alone and on foot across the trackless and bitter cold desert. His good humour had probably resulted in a loosening of the bonds that held him to Mir Mullah, who now could only sheepishly report that he had slept heavily and knew nothing of the escape. The man safely re- gained Polu, as we learned months later when in- quiry was made through Mr. MacCartney, now representing Great Britain at Kashgar. And our complaint of desertion is answered by Caliban's statement that we were forcing him to follow a bad road ! Poor lamb ! Now, indeed, was the summer of our content made dismal winter by this inglorious son of Belial. He had bestowed us at the end of a valley, whose blackened volcanic sides gave it a more than usually sinister visage. But no question of appearance would have weighed against it if we had only known where it was I mean if we had known with that satisfying intimacy which latitude and longitude alone can supply. I had left behind me all hope of recovering my chronometer, lost by reason of the mulish delay of the Osh postmaster. That meant no longitude. But latitude by meridian passages is determinable without a chronometer, provided you know the de- clinations of the bodies observed. These, with all other required astronomical data, are given in nautical almanacs, and nautical almanacs should not 76 Tibet and Turkestan be lost. But when a thorough search of all our kit at the lake encampment failed to find the precious book of figures, I knew that latitudes also must be rare. Even a very exact determination of position would not have given us a trail, but could have determined general directions toward an objective and the distance to be traversed. As things were, we had nothing save compass readings for guidance. My instrument was small, not well made, and I did not know the magnetic variation on the Tibetan plateau. Experience had taught me in other jour- neys that results, sometimes remarkably accurate, may be had by compass work, assuming an average rate for caravan speed. This must vary with the animals used. Thus, Somali camels go steadily at about two and a quarter miles per hour; Abyssinian mules may be counted to do three miles per hour over anything but very rough country. Our Tur- kestan ponies, as we had determined on the lower desert, were good also for three miles. And this figure was, for a time, assumed on the plateau, making specific allowance for all stops over one minute. It proved to be too high, the animals being slowed down by the rarified air and equally rarified food. During the first five days beyond the pass the error of magnetic variation was of small account, as our course had been generally southward with ap- proximately equal east and west diversions. It be- came serious on the long westerly course soon to be pursued. The compass course pointed a wavering and inaccurate path across the untracked wastes. On to Polu 77 When later corrections were made by tying to known points at the ends of the journey over the unexplored region, and checked by corrected, inter- mediate latitudes, 1 a fairly good result was reached. 1 Meridian passages of the sun were observed, declination being calculated, after return to civilisation, based on approximate longi- tudes. CHAPTER VI A PLUNGE TO WHITHER-AWAY THE AKSAI CHIN OR WHITE DESERT THIS dissertation on survey methods seems not to belong to the narrative which brought us up short at the end of a scoriae valley. It is prob- ably here as a reflex from memories of the halting and embarrassment experienced while getting out of that valley. Caliban's desertion led to the dis- covery of a curious mental phenomenon. He had already deceived us in the important matter of the fort. He seemed brutally ignorant, and we feared he would make a bad use of such small intelligence as God had granted him. Yet we were sorry to lose him. There were seven of us left, but we felt lonely on that great desert without Caliban. It is the power of a word, and of faith, irrational faith, I suppose. We had engaged him as a guide, and, indeed, he had taken us to the lakes, which were on the map. We very much needed a guide. After the lake, Caliban had only pretended to know, or had actually deceived us. Yet he was our guide. The word is a noble one, full of sentiment. Trust on the one side, helpful knowledge, all the way up to omniscience, on the other. That is what the word implies. And though all these elements of sentiment were lacking in our case, yet, for a few 78 A Plunge to Whither-Away 79 minutes, we mourned for our guide. But it is one of the fixed laws of travel in a foodless, fireless, houseless, roadless land that no feeling, however sacred, can be indulged, standing still. "Move on ! " That is Alpha and Omega as you must learn them there, provided you wish to remain You. So it was that, cursing Caliban lightly for the bad heart that was in him and for his evil face, yet hoping he might not suffer on his long journey homeward, we saddled up and began to speer a way outward and onward. We said we must travel south-westward toward Rudok and we hoped to find trace of some path, or an occasional pile of stones laid by the hand of man. It was a grievous job, I remember, getting out of the valley. The gorge, which was its vermi- form appendix, was attempted by us, but refused us admission, scattering boulder behind boulder. So we turned away from it, and climbed out, having to unload the ponies and man-handle our goods in the first quarter mile, covering, all told, about a mile of progress in three hours of labour. Some of the ponies were badly shaken up and bruised from fall- ing, but we had lost none: Here, as in the Polu gorge, Mohammed Joo ranged on the field, a valor- ous Achilles, saving, not destroying. More than once our most precious packs had trem- bled to their fall, as the ponies slipped and gripped against a thousand-foot roll down the luring slope, which seeing I, at the rear, unable to pass, could but cry out for our Achilles, who then, holding in some spider-fashion to the face of the steep, found his way to the point of peril, got foot-hold or hand-hold 8o Tibet and Turkestan under the horse's belly, let the burden gently down, urged the animal past the projecting rock, re- gained the trail, moved forward the loads to some safe, wide-stretching plain that might measure four feet in width, where the charge was repacked and our nervous march resumed. He told the ponies in their native tongue how he expected to pull them out of the snarl of packs and rocks into which they may have fallen. The rest of us did such obvious, but not always helpful, things as might occur to strangers looking at some family trouble, but only those two, Mohammed Joo and the beast, knew how four-foot was to be rolled over to come up, all- standing, on some scarce perceptible bench that broke the smooth face of the steep descent. Something of remorseful zeal burned, I think, in the breast of Mohammed Joo, now that we were thrown helpless on an unknown desert. He had believed that he would be able to take us to a point from which the route to Rudok would not be diffi- cult to pick up. Now, only four days from the pass which puts one on the plateau, he found that the mountains and valleys traversed three years before with Captain Deasey were confused in memory with thousands of their kind that cover all this roof-region of the world over which his endless journeys were ever leading him. The sahibs now must determine the march which should result in life or death for all of us. Mohammed Joo would nobly do his part in nursing the afflicted ponies, prolonging their lives beyond the span which would reasonably be measured to them in terms of the hunger and cold and fatigue which were their daily discipline. Dis- bO C A Plunge to Whither- Away 81 cipline? That is the theological term under which many of our ills are covered. What is it for the poor beast? What is the object of his discipline? Briefly, we do not know neither as to horse nor as to man. Suffering is a part of the universe, in- herent as is joy. While watching them, one after the other, stagger to their death I could see only this : a mass of carbon, oxygen, nitrogen, and hydrogen, which, for reasons unknown to me, or to you, had for a time been endowed with the fatal gift of con- sciousness. And a man-corpse suggests nothing different, save a less weight of carbon, oxygen, hy- drogen, and nitrogen, with a greater weight of con- sciousness. That is all we may know ; but there are infinities for which we may hope. In getting out of Caliban's valley we were led up over a ridge 18,300 feet above the sea, and then, at the end of two days' march, we were down again to about 16,500. As to direction, we yielded to the welcome constraint of mountain and valley, glad to note that our general trend was south-westward. So powerful is the reasoning of desire, we had con- vinced ourselves that we could identify certain ranges as shown on the meagre maps, and for a few days we actually saw, at about five-mile intervals, artificial heaps of stone, probably marking some native trail of rarest use, from Polu to the salt lakes or to Rudok. But we now know that we depended too much on maps that were necessarily sketches only. We turned away westward from the best course to Rudok, earlier by a good two days' march than should have been done, and were thus thrown in 82 Tibet and Turkestan the desert known as Aksai Chin White Desert. This region had not been anywhere traversed by Europeans, but the compilers of the maps had, as is customary, put in certain features as vaguely re- ported by natives. These were erroneous, but we, not then knowing definitely our position, were mis- led by giving some faith to the representations. Finding the mountain system very different from that indicated for what was our actual latitude, and very similar to that indicated for a lower latitude, we were thus confirmed in an error which at the end came near costing us "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness." On each day we were sternly asked, by each of the four elements, certain embarrassing questions, and the witness must answer. The Fire Spirit said : "How shall you find me, that you may have hot water for your tea and for the warming of your tinned foods ? ' ' And we answered : ' ' With the happy trove of yak dung, or the grass-roots, or, these fail- ing, with splinters of our two wooden packing-cases ; and these being sacrificed, with this straw torn from pack-saddles, whose bearers are stretched stiff there a mile behind us. Thus, O Fire Spirit, we shall seek you and conjure you to the end that we may have tea, and we shall not ask then your direct com- forting of our bones." And the Air Spirit spoke, saying: "How shall you protect your pulpy bodies from me, relentless, cold, as I seek to steal away from them the heat which is their life? " And we answered: "With the sheep's wool, and his hide; and these protections against your sharp tooth we shall not at any time put aside. And at night the A Plunge to Whither-Away 83 tender ^Europeans shall sleep in a tent, and the Asiatics shall sleep on the uncovered ground and pile up packing-cases against your blast." Then the Water Spirit spoke, saying: "You may perchance live without hot tea, you may, with food in your packs, burn those internal fires whose pro- tected warmth shall defy the Air Spirit. But how shall you deal with me when I shall mock at you as a mirage, when I shall sink into the sands at your feet, when I shall change into stone before your eyes? How shall you possess me, the Indispen- sable? " And for answer we could but say : "When you mock at us with a shining lie, we shall yet seek after you ; when you are buried in the sand, we shall go yet farther to find your reappearance ; when you have turned into stone, we shall be the bet- ter able to carry you from place to place until you shall melt to the wooing of the Fire Spirit. We shall thirst for you, and struggle for you, but you shall yield, you shall comfort us." And, lastly, the Earth Spirit spoke, saying: "I have trapped you here, you who have come into my sanctuary which I have kept apart for its quietness. You shall see doors in my mountain walls, they shall seem to be open, but they shall be closed against you. Your feet shall be heavy, your breathing shall be as a bellows that creaks. This land I have lifted far above the thick air which your lungs de- sire for the quick cleansing of your blood. This land is not made for man. You have sinned against me in leaving the habitations which I have widely prepared for you, to come into my high solitudes." And we answer: "The shut door shall we leave, 84 Tibet and Turkestan seeking yet another, though the feet be heavy. Your solitude shall then be respected; open only the way. Let no strange skeletons be mingled here with those of the yak, the gazelle, the wild dog proper offerings on this your barren altar." Thus may struggle the spirit of man with the spirits of all the conspiring elements. But the ponies? Ah! they could but answer to the shrill jibe of the death-bearing night wind: "We bear the burdens of man, his will must we serve while we live, yours to-morrow when we die." How the poor brutes churned and churned all night long! They were tied in pairs, head to tail. Thus they could move, but could not stray. Little rest for them, this all-night milling round and round. But to stand still meant death. The loss of one's ponies is the peril that hangs over all travel in this fatal region. It is impossible to soften the frightful conditions in which they strive to exist. They must travel to the limit of their endurance, because the land is foodless. They cannot be relieved from the effect of excessive alti- tude ; nor can they be protected at night from ex- cessive cold. If the journey be long, they must be fed on small rations. A fair load for a pony in rough country is one hundred and fifty pounds, or say two hundred. If he were fed ten pounds a day, he could carry nothing more than his own food for a twenty-day journey. The occasional grass one meets counts for something, and we always sought to camp near even the meanest-looking patch of it. But one cannot rely upon it, and in the short time available for grazing over sparse growth, the animal A Plunge to Whither-Away 85 gets only a lunch not a dinner. If one starts from a mountain-base, such as Darjeeling or Ladak Leh, the animals are hardier than those recruited in Tur- kestan. But even these are not accustomed to regular life at elevations above fourteen thousand feet, and the increase to an average of sixteen thousand feet, which must be met in any consider- able journey on the plateau, seems to tell on even the hardiest. The first to succumb was Captain Anginieur's mount, a high-bred animal with too much mettle. For about ten days after ascending the Polu gorge he continued to be ready for a morning gallop. He soon dropped, fell several times under his rider, tried to follow the caravan, bearing a nominal load ; then, on another day, without load, he stumbled forward several times, bleeding at the mouth as he recovered ; finally, gave it up, and when I last saw him he was on his knees. Anginieur did not like the thought of shooting him ; the cold of the night must have promptly done the bullet's quicker work. My own mount, an excellent Kashgar purchase, died one night a few days after he had made a noble effort for his salvation and mine. We had made a hard march the day before and went into a dry camp, moistened a little, however, by water carried in my rubber bed from the previous camp. We were moving in a valley about ten miles wide. Small streams coming from the neighbouring snow- tops wandered lazily over level surfaces, and often disappeared almost while you watched them. At night they were frozen. We ought to reach them early enough to let the animals drink liquid water. 86 Tibet and Turkestan Ten miles is a wide stretch to cross and re-cross, unless you have nothing else to do. But we wanted to move forward as rapidly as possible. At about twelve o'clock noon I left the caravan, which was near the middle of the valley, agreeing with Angi- nieur that he should keep the march headed on a selected peak far in front of us, while I sought for water near the foot of one of our bounding ranges. At about four o'clock, finding none, I turned to rejoin the caravan, and soon reached the line of the front-and-rear peaks agreed on in the morning. The caravan was not seen, nor the trail. For a time we kept on the supposed line of march, but when no trail was found and the sun sank low both horse and I were troubled. Finally, quite against his will, I turned the animal square across the val- ley, determined thus to find the trail before dark, or prove that the caravan had not gone so far. The poor beast flagged now; he thought I was wrong and he knew he was tired. But when the tracks were seen, what an intelligent leap he made ! Turn- ing freely to follow, now forward, he again tried to gallop. But the fire was gone. Thus we passed on, hoping every moment to see the caravan in motion or the tent set for a cheerless night. Then came a stony stretch, the moon sank in clouds, the trail was gone. It was no longer possible to make out anything in the dark. Just what to do was a puzzle. I must not stop too long, as that meant sleeping and freez- ing, but I was very tired ; hence I concluded to lie down for a while, keeping the bridle on my arm. A Plunge to Whither-Away 87 Then, remembering a crust of bread in my saddle- bag, I providentially moved round the horse's head to get it, when a flash no sound, but an instant's flash struck through the black night. As we were the only men for several hundreds of miles about, that flash was conclusive evidence that the camp was near. Now we need not fight the bitter night through against hunger and the killing cold. I sprang to the saddle and again urged forward the over-worn horse. The signal he could not under- stand, yet he forged on, dejectedly but patiently. In less than half an hour we were splashing through a good stream. Shot after shot guided us on, then shout after shout, then hand -grasp after hand-grasp, for even the men put aside the reserve of station to welcome the lost sahib. But the poor horse never recovered his spirit. He had endeav- oured, yea, accomplished, too much. He could scarce make the next day's march, and, though he showed again a bit of energy, in a week he was dead. Even when an enforced halt had come to the caravan, and he had days of repose ahead of him, he chose eternal rest. Our trouble had arisen, like many others less serious, from a mirage. My long absence from the caravan caused Anginieur to feel that he must look out for water. A beautiful little lake spread out to the left of our agreed line of march. He veered over toward the vision, which was n't water, but only the ghost of it. That ac- counted for the long loop in the trail and my failure to pick it up when I reached the line of the direction peaks. Moral. When you have been long sepa- rated from your friends, remember that they may 88 Tibet and Turkestan have excellent reasons for changing rules of conduct supposedly fixed. The caravan was in motion about ten hours dur- ing the day just described ; that is a long pull for weak, underfed horses, so we had to shoot one on breaking camp next morning. The straw of the now useless pack-saddle was given in part to the tea-making fire, and in part to the famished horses, each one striving for a mouthful of the woody fibre. We are now nearly at the end of the long, flat valley in which we had marched for eight or ten days. It was closed just ahead of us, and there was thus closed one chapter in the history of our woes. Yet withal a few pleasant elements had entered into the experience. Two lakes were discovered, one drinkable, the other salt. The fresh water lay beau- tifully blue at the foot of sharply rising mountains and gladdened our eyes for two days. Around the other tracks were found, some quite new, and these lifted our hopes. But the trails thinned out into the silent hills. They were evidently made by wild horses coming to the salt licks. Both the lakes were new to the maps. It was near the sweet water that we had a half day's diversion furnished by a herd of wild yak. Miles had given us a Berdan rifle. With this and the Mauser gun-pistol we taught the yaks and the virgin echoes how noisy and how harmless may be the artillery of the breath-spent hunter. That we were exhausted by our vain stalking efforts was of small concern ; that we failed to get fresh meat was a disappointment, particularly for the men, who A Plunge to Whither-Away 89 worked hard and shivered much during thirty days or more on a diet of tea and bread, while we had sustaining tins of sausage and pork in various other forms ; also dreadful Russian fish. The folded val- ley in which we saw the yaks contained a bit of grazing, which would have been relished by the ponies, but we had to retreat from its impassable sides and regain the broader desert in which our course had been held. Even here occasional ga- zelles browsed invisible grass, and invariably flung away, rejoicing, from our long-range shots. Except for these things, the lakes, the yaks, and the gazelles, yes, and the sunshine, and the solitude and the snow-tops around us, I can think of nothing agreeable in connection with the long valley which stretches across the Aksai Chin. Except for these, life there was but a constant strain of search for water, for fuel of roots or dung, for a bit of grazing, and always for a trail that never was found, because it never had been. Now, ahead of us the mountains closed the way. They were not ugly heights ; we felt that they could be climbed, or a way threaded between them. The portentous question was, which way? We had evi- dently passed beyond any opening, if it existed, that would lead us by short line to Rudok. Might we not be near Lanak Pass? That is on the map. Several explorers had crossed it. Indeed, Moham- med Joo now took courage and declared that he recognised the black mountain there in front. We microscoped the rumour-made maps more closely than ever and then plunged into the heights which confronted us. Soon we were up again to eighteen 90 Tibet and Turkestan thousand feet, then down again to sixteen thousand five hundred, in a rather narrow valley. Lassoo now began to revive memories of his march with Captain Welby. His little yellow face was turned know- ingly from side to side, and he soon delighted us by declaring to Achbar that we were going in the wrong direction. Think of it, somebody who knew what was the wrong direction ! The next morning we gave Lassoo his head, and were soon scaling another eighteen-thousand-foot ridge, down into another valley at about sixteen thousand five hundred feet elevation. Mohammed Joo, ever an optimist, said that was Lanak Pass. Lassoo said it was not, but he could take us to Lanak and probably find shep- herds there. Our hearts swelled with satisfaction. A shepherd meant a trail ; a trail meant a way back to the world where people lived, where the map should no longer be blank and where the ear should no longer be hurt by the refrain "Adam Yok!" Another day we followed Lassoo, who held down the valley wherein a friendly stream accompanied us for a while. But now the little compass read N. W., and all day long N. W., and there were no shepherds. But men had been in this valley. Lassoo triumphantly chuckled over a piece of pottery found near to three blackened stones, dear to the eyes of the trail-seeker. Then we passed a curious line of little stone-piles about a foot high, two feet apart, and stretching a clean mile across the valley, with a six-foot opening about the middle. I think it served to cull the foolish flocks that may have grazed last year, or a hundred years ago, or a thou- A Plunge to Whither- Away 91 sand, on the hillsides, that now bore, here and there, only a little furze like the three days' beard on a man's chin. Night came on, and our stream had left us by burying itself alive. We turned up a side valley and pitched camp in the dark, all very blue. We had not filled the rubber bed in the morning, and all my previous exhortations in respect to water bottles resulted only in two mine and Achbar's. Two pints of water for seven men. Achbar's bottle went to the men. They would not accept the whiskey I offered, and whose use under such cir- cumstances I thought even the Prophet himself would have allowed ; but he was not there to make a dispensation. And now the worst of it came. Poor Anginieur had been always more affected by the altitude than the rest of us. He was forced tp^open his lips for breathing. We had been riding for days into the teeth of a cruel wind, which, I suppose, inflamed the exposed tonsils and made things worse. It was impossible to keep warm enough for continuous sleep at night, though we wore all our day-clothing and got under everything else available. This lack of sleep produced general feverishness, and now a long night had to be passed with only one cup of water, a body temperature of 103 F., and an atmospheric temperature of 20 F. My little stock of medicines had not seemed to be selected to meet this case, though they had been rather liberally applied during the past few days. Moreover, I never treat Europeans with the same confidence which spreads from patient to doctor 92 Tibet and Turkestan when the patient is a native. In Africa, where I had a flourishing practice, another condition added to my professional aplomb. I was always moving forward and thus left my clients behind me, cured by faith, I trust. Now, when the case seemed grave, and was that of my friend, I felt miserable in my ignorance. Icould but give quinine and look cheer- ful ; it was a hard night for Anginieur, whose fever gasped for water, though he must be covered cap-a- pie to keep from freezing. Very early we were up, looking about for H 2 O in any form. Mohammed Joo climbed to a forbidding niche about a mile away and came back about seven o'clock with a bucket full of reviving snow. Then Lassoo explored a near-by elevation, found abun- dant running water within a quarter of a mile, and soon the rubber bed was full. Perilous as was our position now, a day's rest for the invalid became im- perative. And it was equally imperative that the caravan should be lightened. We had now eleven horses and grain enough to quarter-feed them all for about five days. Unless some of them were better fed, all would soon die. So we made a pile contain- ing civilised clothing, books (about a dozen good heavy ones that had come with me all the way from London), our little camp table and chairs, my sex- tant, and various odds and ends, altogether amount- ing to about two loads. Then we redistributed the packs and found that we could get rid of at least three animals. Mohammed Joo was told to give no grain to these three, to let them follow, if they chose, in the hope of some sudden relief, or, if he preferred, to shoot them. As his heart was half A Plunge to Whither-Away 93 horse, he did not shoot them and did, I fear, sneak them a mouthful of food. After one day's rest, Anginieur was again able to get in the saddle. In an hour's march we had picked up our disappearing, re-appearing stream, and in another hour it was running strong wherever it could break through its fetters of ice. But the valley trended stubbornly north-west. This seemed to mean that we should soon be in the open desert again, and certainly we were wearing away from Lanak Pass away from possible food and life. So when a wide opening appeared, looking south-west, we felt that reason pointed toward the new valley. I had many misgivings about leaving a descending stream to ascend a long valley. Lassoo's leathery face almost changed colour when he saw us leading away on a new tack, and my conversation with him was thus : "The sahibs will surely die if they leave this stream." "But how do you know we shall not die if we follow it?" "At Lanak Pass there was big water, and this too is big." But I am sure now that we are far from Lanak ; the sun has told me so." "Even if we are, this is good water." "But many times we have seen the streams die in the sands why not this one? " "There are fish here. I saw some under the ice as long as two hands ; such fish are not in the waters that die in the sands. And we now go down, that is good. If we go up the horses will die first. The 94 Tibet and Turkestan sahibs cannot sleep without horses to carry their food and their blankets. Even we cannot walk and bear burdens in this land; we shall all die." "But this stream goes ever in the wrong direc- tion." "It will change if it does not yet I shall soon find men shepherds of the Botmen (Tibetans) or the Kirghiz, perhaps." I felt that Lassoo's talk was good medicine, but the compass and the maps won the day and carried us on to further trials. One of our ponies had dropped just before we changed direction. Another considerately went down a short time before we camped, thus assuring us a straw fire for our tea. The next night, a bitter one in a snow-fall at an elevation of seventeen thousand five hundred feet, was cheered by this sort of death-flame. Three ponies had now eliminated themselves from the grain equation without help of powder and shot. By noon of the following day we had clambered out of the upper defiles of our tempting valley and found ourselves on a mountain-top, the very abomi- nation of desolation. Again we looked at the world from an elevation of eighteen thousand five hundred feet, and it was not good to behold; magnificent, but not good. Vast snow-crowned heights, like gigantic foam billows, met at every point a now threatening sky. A deep valley looked up at us from the west, but visible issue there was none. There was absolutely nothing to suggest a way out of the wildly massed region of snow save death or retreat. Again the little leathery face of Lassoo seemed drawn as by cords, yet composedly he said 03 'Hb c W A Plunge to Whither-Away 95 to Achbar, who composedly interpreted to us: "Now the sahibs see that we must all die if we go on; and shall we go there, or there, or there? It is all the same. Last night the ponies were nearly all dead in the snow. All of us were very cold. You see it is worse around us. But it is not too late, I think, if we go back! " Just then, at the psychological moment, the snow began falling around us, and even Anginieur, who sympathised less with Lassoo's views than I, felt that our lives were now hung on a slender thread, which pulled us backward. Lassoo was all wrong about Lanak Pass, but he was all right in respect to the wisdom of sticking closer than a brother to a good descending stream. And now we could hold out but a few days longer, for our grain supply was just two bushels. We had been travelling for more than twenty days without seeing a human being and had no idea where to find them, andwe were simply lost. So down we went. There remained much to surfer, but that decision saved us eventually. I re- member just a little regret at leaving so splendid, so savage a view. And, as we knew later, the spot was geographically of unique interest. The ridge which stretched its forlorn length to right and left of us separates the Hindustan plains from the central desert. It is the true ridge-pole of the Asiatic con- tinental mass. The snowflakes that fell around us might be divided even as they melted, part going to the hungry sands of the cold northern wastes, part to be warmed in the glistening bosom of the Indian Ocean. Here is such a frontier as Titans would de- clare for fending wide apart their jealous empires. 96 Tibet and Turkestan And here is such a seat as Icy Death would sit upon for throne. In a day and a half we were again camped in the big valley near the point where we had left it, an unusually fine grass-patch near us, abundant water at our feet, and a fair supply of yak dung, garnered there by passing decades. On the way down we had proposed to Mohammed Joo and Lassoo that they should go alone down the good stream to seek help, while the rest of us remained in camp, thus avoiding transport of five men and our European necessities, tent, and heavier bedding. They eagerly assented. Indeed, it was evidently the only course possible. We had now just one bushel of grain. That would keep two horses going several days, and at good speed, but it would last eight horses only two days, at half rations. Lassoo was calmly confident that he could return in six days. Just why he said six instead of sixteen I don't know, unless he merely wanted to comfort us, for we could live comfortably for ten days on the food remaining to us, and we hoped the idle horses might keep their life-sparks burning by consumption of the grass. Our two messengers then fared forth to ask of the silent mountains whether we were to be granted a few more years of respiration, of see-saw 'twixt pain and pleasure. How grave it all seemed to us! How indifferent to the dumb world around us! How petty to the babbling world of men to which we once belonged ! Perhaps a few broken hearts there, grief -filled for a season, then the salve of time and routine, then, for them also, the sovereign cure-all, death. CHAPTER VII CAMP PURGATORY PHILOSOPHY AND RELIGION VS. PROBABLE DEATH KIRGHIZ SAMARITANS THE tardy sun reached the black mountain-tops and slanted his arrows upon our tent some- what after eight in the morning. When thus we were invited forth from our covers on the first day of our sojourn in Camp Purgatory (for so we called it), it came to pass that another blow from Fortune's hammer fell upon us. Now it struck Anginieur's leg, and the effect thereof is called phlebitis, and the effect of phlebitis is acute pain, a sort of paraly- sis. A short cable's length of assisted promenade, that was a day's work for a so stricken leg. For the upkeeping-of our courage we had talked much and fallaciously about walking toward safety, when the ponies should all have died; scheming to use them inside of us when they could no longer bear us as burdens on their backs. But if no help came from down stream, whither our messengers had gone, we should be forced back into the maze of fatal mountains which had encircled us since we left the Aksai Chin valley. Even the natives felt the hopelessness of such an effort for themselves. The attempts that I had made to give relief to my pitiful mount whenever the uphill work halted him had made it clear to me that even a well man, 97 98 Tibet and Turkestan burdened with a few pounds of food and the cover- ing necessary to protect from freezing at night, would be able to make not more than three or four miles per day. Now, as we frequently had to travel twenty miles a day to secure water, the shorter march might be fatal. Of course, the immortal principle of Micawber would doubtless keep a live body moving as long as motion was possible, but I had now revolved the situation in many different lights, and had become convinced that relief could come only from the down-stream course of the black valley in which we found ourselves. If not there, then a good dose of Mauser lead could at least shorten heartache and hunger pangs. Anginieur's spirit had for days been far stronger than his body, and even now, when this sore afflic- tion fell upon him, he always joined me in whiling away the long hours by talking about what we should do when we should get out. When several days had passed, and our poor ministrations to the invalid leg were shown to be futile, there came so secret and complex are mental processes a sort of resignation to our inactivity, a sort of restful finality concerning the impossiblity of walking out of our trouble. As the days wore on we even tried to bar the wearisome discussion of what to do if the men came not back within the necessary limits of days, or if they came back empty-handed. And in this the phlebitis helped us. Nursing it gave occupa- tion to sunlit hours that came staring at us, and to rushlit hours that came peering at us, inquiring, "What can you do with us? We must be lived unto our death." Anginieur's leg and the Bible, Camp Purgatory 99 these were the two diversions, the two clean-picked bones of discussion. The story of how the Bible came to Camp Purga- tory is this : I have told you that before making our dash up Disappointment Valley we had cast aside all save the indispensables. Now, we found our- selves about ten miles below Camp Abandon, im- prisoned for a time or for eternity. My little library spoke to me through the solid earth, and I longed for it. The intricacies, the profundities, the absurdi- ties which should be found in Kant, Spinoza, Des- cartes, the Koran, the Bible, Buddha's Meditations these would lead one away from self, a too intimate personage when his existence seems threatened. The little collection had been put in a leather box and named Kitab, this being Hindustani for book. Mir Mullah now was sent with two ponies that could walk to recover Kitab, ten miles away. The old man had done nothing thoroughly, save his prayers, but there seemed little chance for error. "Go back to the abandoned camp and recover Kitab, also some shoes." We reckoned not, how- ever, with the possibilities of Achbar's translations falling upon a mind vacant and now disturbed. Mir Mullah returned, after a day and a half, bringing my trunk, Kitab still ten miles away. Both were of leather. On this similarity Mir Mullah stumbled. The trunk contained evening dress, summer clothes, and the Bible ; and weighed twice as much as Kitab ; the wretched pony died of it two days later. The book had been accidentally separated from its com- panion volumes. It was ungracious that one, even nominally a Christian, should curse a Mussulman for ioo Tibet and Turkestan bringing him the Bible, but I could fairly scold the poor old stupid for putting half a normal load on a pony having only one-tenth its normal strength, and no grain at the end of the journey. When men look at you with the deep, patient eyes that light those Asiatic faces, and when one's wrath must filter through Achbar's brain and Achbar's tongue, the victim still lives when you have finished with him. And the morning and the evening were the second day when I began to read the Bible to Anginieur. Ere a week had passed, even my orthodox Catholic friend felt that the early books of slaughter and the vitriolic prophets left much to be desired as an ele- vating preparation for probable death. Job, the patient and Ecclesiastes, struck a more sympathetic note. The ante- Abraham traditions were suggest- ive, even absorbing, to the intellect that would in- quire critically into the history of religion. So, also, though of far less hold upon one's interest, the childish babbling of the dream-interpreters, down to Daniel. Much of all this turns around life, but the life of a nation rather than of an indi- vidual. It could enter little into the meditations of those whose chances of living were down to the Camp Purgatory measure. Ruth, Esther, and the Songs of Solomon were read, together with some torn pages of Childe Harold, which had been hid- den in our kit ; all these spoke to us of the Heaven of woman's love, from which we seemed to be per- manently exiled. To the life of Christ, he of Christian childhood, though long since forced be- yond the fold, might fancy that he could more con- Camp Purgatory 101 fidingly turn for inspiration and for solace. But those who were chosen to tell us the story of this great life piled Pelion on Ossa of intellectual diffi- culty Pelion of resurrection on Ossa of virgin birth. Frightened by these uplifted rocks, we are then forced to sail between the Scylla of individual interpretation of ancient writings, on the one hand, and, on the other, the Charybdis of severe church authority, rising from foundations of musty tradi- tion. Under the lee of this Charybdis rock, Angi- nieur's bark, driven by fate, had been anchored, and some peace found, but a peace disturbed by thoughts of the many who seemed to have vanished out into the far sea of unbelief. And lo ! there, where the storm of doubt has been outridden, there also is peace. There one sees his neighbour-barks sink quietly, sails all furled, into the 'sea from which they rose. Some, in the gradual engulfment of age, seem but to nestle back into the water as the tired child seeks its couch. Others, downward drawn by a law more sudden and more secret in its drift, swirl quickly out of vision. As the mariner goes down, the clear sky around him is not peopled by fantastic forms of Jewish, Egyptian, Greek, or German myth. Under the smooth sea which receives him, no Satan, no Pluton dwells. The law gave him birth, set him to move athwart the sea of existence, called the voyage Life ; is now about to end it, and for whatever he may now be, something or nothing, he is still held by the law. Or so it all seemed to me in the black silence of the nights when the days were ended and their hopes were buried with the setting sun. The 102 Tibet and Turkestan silence and the darkness were as waters to quench the thirst for identity, for separateness. Although it was clear that Lassoo's six-day limit was purely fanciful, we could not but feel a bit more lost when the seventh day's sun rose on our un- broken solitude. Our men would undoubtedly have made great effort to return on the appointed day. Moreover, their horses must now be dead unless they had found help. The grain, less than a bushel, could not keep them going more than six days of hard work. We counted our paltry store of tins and hefted our bag of rice. This had now to be divided among our three servants whose bread stock was very low, Mohammed Joo and Lassoo having been supplied generously for ten days' constant riding or walking. Allowing Anginieur and myself together one box of sardines, a one-pint tin of pork swimming in water, a cup of rice, and four ounces of bread, and to the men a cup of rice and eight ounces of bread (for the three), we were still good for eight days. Happily the tea supply would go even a little longer. Oh, blessed beverage ! As we were quite inactive, the rations would have been satisfactory but for the extreme cold, which de- manded the production of a lot of heat units. We usually spent fifteen hours in bed, covered in due form with all our trappings, thus minimising the heat losses. It was, perhaps, an hygienic regime ; we could not eat enough to satisfy appetite, but we had enough to tame hunger. The only severe trials proceeding from our larder came when some un- readable label gave us a mere mess of cabbage, with- Camp Purgatory 103 out meat, for our pihe de resistance. Then we gripped our belts and had doubts as to Russian civilisation. The men were stolid and uncomplain- ing, though Mir Mullah's resigned assertion that Allah had surely chosen this spot, as his burial- ground did not tend to make the two younger ones light-hearted. And the old man's voice was dis- tressingly broken and womanish when lifted up in long prayers which every day became more plaintive. There was a note of dissolution in it, of incorporeal- ity, which shivered one's nerves. Was it ugly of me to have Achbar tell him to pray like a man, not like a weeping child? When we had been in Camp Purgatory a week three crows began to visit us, our only friends. Achbar said these birds would eat nothing but men and horses, and that they knew three days in ad- vance when God meant to give them a feast. We laughed at him and flung stones at the crows. Then we discovered some fish insultingly curling under the ice of a near-by pond. Here was occu- pation and food, if we were successful. Fish-hooks were found and let down through ice-holes. The cunning beasts viewed our stratagem and sailed away. Several hours of several days were patiently dedicated to such wiles, but each night closed up our silly breaches in their walls, glazing over an undiminished number of these water foxes. The tenth night was a blue one, for we had laid great stress, when instructing our messengers, upon the importance of sending some word on that day, in case help had been found, even if our men could not themselves return. However, nothing remained 104 Tibet and Turkestan to us but to await the designs of slow-moving Fate. Three of our ponies, having nothing else to do, had now died. The others were festering racks, their proper sores having spread and grown more malignant under the pack-saddles, which Mir Mullah had not removed during the whole period of inactiv- ity. Anginieur was still a prisoner to his leg, charging himself at times with being a burden upon the move, which now, he thought, we ought to at- tempt. But it was not difficult to convince him that, without a single horse that could carry a bur- den, we were not all tied to his leg, but that all were separately tied to our desolate prison ground in a common inability to cope with conditions all awry. The eleventh day wore away to its afternoon; for distraction it was suggested that the fishes be bombarded behind their ice-fortress. Perhaps our smooth-bore, belching out duck-shot, would break the ice, and repeated cannonading might somehow reach the finny garrison. Three futile shots had set the echoes ringing, when lo ! an answering, dis- tant sound rolled up from the valley's hidden stretch below us. The long strain was ended. That single rifle-shot meant life. Then masters and men looked into each other's eyes as brothers and strained away their gaze toward the black cliff which closed the down-stream view. When the sober, silent joy of first relief had changed to laughing gaiety that felt its right to live, our anxious watch discovered two horsemen urging up the valley. In half an hour they were at our sides, the faithful two, weary with Camp Purgatory 105 long travel, radiant with success, happy because they had saved their friends. Achbar's halting words were spurred to tell the story. Four and a half days down the valley, their ponies pushed to the limit of endurance, they had at last found man. The thirty-day refrain of "Adam Yok" was ended. Three Kirghiz tents, set where the valley widened and bore abundant grass, shel- tered a kindly people. The exhausted ponies, the way-worn men, were fed. But the paterfamilias being absent, nothing there could be done for our relief. Nearly two days' away were two other tents. There the elders had gone, there our mes- sengers must hasten, on fresh ponies now. The good Kirghiz were quick to act. Three men, four camels, and two extra ponies were at once set in motion. Grain for the going and for the return, and food for all, were promptly gathered. The Kirghiz knew the valley well, though none had gone as far up as was our camp. Travelling fast, under the friendly constraint of our servants, they covered in four days what we afterwards covered, with fair marches, in seven. They were now only an hour behind our Achilles and Ulysses. Soon we saw the familiar swing of the camels rounding the black rocks, and ere the sun set, we were a happy camp of friends. So material a thing is life that we must mark the reassurance of it by eating away all hunger and all appetite; the fresh mutton was good, the yak's butter was good, and the yak's clotted cream was good. Good and surprising it was also to learn where we were. The great valley was that of the Karakash, io6 Tibet and Turkestan one of the principal rivers that digs a torrential course down the Kuen Lun Mountains, to fret its way through the slow sands of the Taklamakan, and to die of inanition as part of the great Tarim stream. The waters which appeared between Camp Abandon and Camp Purgatory were evidently its permanent sources, instead of the much more dis- tant points which the maps had heretofore assigned to that character. Thus our stumbling among the mountains turned to some good account in the laborious effort which man has made to know the globe he inhabits. Then came the blow to my hopes. The Kirghiz would not go farther from their tents; they could not help me to get back to Rudok. We must go out, if we wanted to be saved, by going northward, back to their grazing ground, thence westward until we should reach the Karakoram caravan route be- tween Yarkand and Ladak Leh. They had not grain enough to furnish me forth for another journey, even if I had the horses, and they could not afford to part with such animals as I should need for such an attempt. Man is an essentially Unsatisfied De- sire and an Irritated Sensibility. These people had come in the nick of time to save my life; their refusal to help me Rudokward was in every way reasonable, yet there was a moment of rebellious in- dignation. Soon, however, It-might-have-been was buried deep in It-is, and we turned towards thoughts of departure. Something like thirty days must pass ere we could reach the railway on the far north of India, but the route was known to our Kirghiz as far as the link that should bind Camp Purgatory to A morning bath at Kashgar. Camp Purgatory 107 a well-known trail, thence to all the Yarkand-Ladak world. And at Ladak we knew the telegraph could be reached that was only twenty days away. There should be some hardship still the Karako- ram route is not Rotten Row but, barring such accidents as are always possible in crossing glaciers, snow masses, and narrow defiles, we might now consider ourselves at the railway station in Rawal Pindi, or in Paris, for that matter. CHAPTER VIII GLACIERS, YAKS, SKELETONS, A LOVE AFFAIR, AND A HIGH SONG ON THE KARAKORAM ROUTE A RETRIEVE of the luggage at Camp Abandon, a day of rest for the weary ones, plenty of grain in the bellies of the surviving ponies, and we were off again down the dismal valley whence had come our salvation. We were delighted to find that Anginieur, once trussed up on his mount, could "stay put" without much suffering. Then, the third day out, came a sensation, and for the game leg the beginning of its cure. We had a roaring fire made of shrubs that grew at least three feet high, the most gigantic vegetable we had seen since leav- ing Polu. The leg was fairly roasted by the leaping flames, and a luxurious bien fare took hold of Angi- nieur's soul. Then two days later came the triumphal entry into the Kirghiz camp. What a simple, hearty welcome from these good people! Their little population normally filled the three lodges those felt-warmed, lattice- framed tents which sparsely dot all the wilds of Central Asia. One was given to the sahibs; one received all the men, a dozen of them; while women and children swarmed in the third. It would be pleasant to believe that one-fourth of all the Christians whom one must meet in an ordinary 108 Glaciers, Yaks, Skeletons 109 life should possess the elementary virtues developed as they were in this band of nomads, dwelling in the western wilds of Tibet, hundreds of miles from their kind. They were dignified, yet respectful; they were poor, but honest ; they were hospitable, but not fawning; we were helpless in their power, and they sold their scant provisions and their labour (vital to us) for the usual Central Asian prices. On the mere word of our men they took Russian gold in payment, though they were familiar with no money save the Chinese silver, and must send the gold to Yarkand or Kashgar for exchange. The service of the camels that brought us out, including the men who tended them, was charged at forty cents per day each. The ponies which we rode were also forty cents each per day, including the necessary grain, which is here very precious, as it must be brought by caravan from Yarkand. The Good Samaritan could not have better played the role which he created than did these Mussulmen, astray from temple and from mosque. Judging from the glimpses of Kirghiz life which we had while crossing the Ala'i Mountains from Osh to Kashgar, I had thought these nomads quite careless about all religious ceremonial, as, indeed, must be probable, since they are never in communities where they may be assembled in pious celebrations. Yet so strong was the hold of the Prophet's law that the morning sun, looking into their cheerless camp, found all the men in genuflexion toward Mecca. This persistent but unostentatious performance of the prayer rite is well, it is not European, or, shall I say, not Protestant European. no Tibet and Turkestan Yaks, camels, horses, sheep, these are their wealth. Tradition seems to give the right of graz- ing in certain valleys to certain families, who must have several places of accustomed resort in order to keep their animals in condition. Few, I believe, have been found living at higher elevations than our friends, who spent regularly a part of each year in the spot which received us, at an elevation of four- teen thousand feet above sea. If their pasturage is good they may eat meat not infrequently ; if scant, they must not vary from milk, in many forms, and bread. This they obtain, by exchange of skins or condensed milk, from the caravans that may pass nearest their camps. So also they obtain their clothing, which is generally heavy and well made. Their rugs are home-made and excellent. The women are modest, though not veiled. The high, white turban of myriad folds seems never to be laid aside, though the whole day is filled with a leisurely industry, milking, cooking, weaving, nursing babies. They work quietly; one never hears the scolding and quarrelling which so frequently advertise the concourse of working women in civilised lands. Their faces are strong and comely, but not viva- cious. Both men and women seem gentle with children, who, like their parents, are not noisy. The babies cry but little, unless ill. They all seem to suffer from colds, nasal catarrh being not uncommon. While our new caravan was being organised, clothes patched, and bread cooked, we passed two days in Capuan ease at Camp Kirghiz. The tent was warm, and one's eyes harden to the smoke. Glaciers, Yaks, Skeletons m We put our camp folding-table in commission again, stretched our legs, all four of them, in defiance of phlebitis, and voted the world a merry one. Then we were off, following the stately camels, not to be warm again for a week or more ; but there was food a-plenty and action a-plenty. We were bound for Sasar, several days' march beyond the junction with the Yarkand-Leh caravan route. There we must change camels for yaks, thus to get over the great glacier on which pad-feet would slip and ingloriously sprawl the humped majesty of Asia. In the week's hard march we passed one habita- tion, a single Kirghiz tent, whose owner's cattle struggled for existence in as dismal a loneliness as hermit could desire. We stopped there while our attendants gathered a few small sticks from the furze-growth. The men of the family were absent, but we were permitted to sit by the scant fire and watch the household life of the women. One of the daughters wore the matron's turban ; her sisters, comely girls, were not yet mated. One of them, however, was the fianc/e of a young man in our caravan. It was a pretty play of hide-and-seek we witnessed. When his voice was heard approaching the tent, she bustled quickly behind a screen, where she must remain while he warmed his fingers. Sur- rounding nature's severity is thus reflected in their customs. He must not see her during the year of their engagement, then, with guise of swift violence, he will seize her away to some lonely neighbouring tent, distant fifty miles or more. Does the picture please you, O Araminta? No matter: there are deep reasons for it, which I could better explain to ii2 Tibet and Turkestan your mother than to you. In the decent veil of figure, the fact may thus be presented : If the pent- up volume of some mountain lake can find but one outlet, down into some one valley whose wasting sands shall be fertilised into life by the rushing waters, and if the due season be not come for the flood-letting, then it is better that the valley be hidden from the covetous lake by some great dam (or slender screen) of custom. The women were neatly clad in Bokhara patterns of the cheap silks, which give colour to brown humanity in Central Asia. When I wondered, through Achbar, where our hostess did her shop- ping, "From the caravan," she said. "Have you ever been to Yarkand, only ten days away to the north-west?" "No." "Or to Leh, only ten days away to the southward?" "No, the caravans pass two days from here." So this happy, incurious female had never seen the bazaars, palpitating with men and women, though to say ten days' journey there is as a few hours to our nervous selves. Had she not, for neighbours, those whom we had left three days ago? Yes, she had even seen one Euro- pean before, when in another camp. Was not her existence full enough? When, a few days later, we struck the main trail beaten by the foot-fall of the centuries we felt that we were again suddenly caught in the whirl of life's currents. Now caravans were met one, two, or three each day. Now we got tobacco and sugar; we even had news of a friend, the Hindoo Aksakol from Yarkand, en route to his old home in the Pun- jab and now just a day ahead of us. All the while Glaciers, Yaks, Skeletons 113 we were gaining elevation, the cold growing sharper ; water carried in ice-cakes to provide the dry camps ; fuel in precious bundles on camel-back, two stretches of four days each being wholly without vegetation. When we mounted the great Karakoram Pass we were eighteen thousand three hundred feet above the sea, the fourth time we had exceeded eighteen thousand feet since leaving Polu. The route, which is often designated by naming this pass, is abomi- nable, but the divide itself, while rough and cold, is not perilous save when snow-covered. We crossed without difficulty, but were reminded of the true merit underlying the reputation given to the spot, by an almost unbelievable number of horse-skeletons which blaze the way for more than a day's march on either side. Where the death-harvest had been most rich, they could be counted a hundred to the quarter mile. Legs ridiculously in the air, heads absurdly ducked between legs, backs broken, backs curved, necks defiantly lurched upward, rampant, bodies half set up on haunches, every possible fan- tastic position was seen, as resultants of three forces rigor mortis, gravitation, and vulture. Thus in regions uninhabitable, death remains the only evi- dent monument of the transient life that ventures here. Throughout the vast length of the Karakoram and Himalayan ranges Nature seems to have raised these tremendous masses that here, wrapped in spotless white, she might sleep undisturbed by her inquisi- tive progeny, her enfant terrible, restless man. But in vain. Children of the desert, children of the delta, led by love of gain, led by lust of war, for ii4 Tibet and Turkestan thousands of years they have climbed and crawled over the frowning mountains. Religion too has cast its spell over the minds of men, to send them across these uplifted sands and snows, some uttering the battle-cry of Mohammed, some chanting Buddha's peaceful name. And after the fever of it all reigns Icy Death. It was the chill hand of night which drew us into the unwonted life of Camp Sasar, the bourne to which our Kirghiz led us, the term of their travel, the limit of the camel's usefulness. Here were en- closures, unroofed walls of stone, mute prophecies of return to the world of man. The lune, the demi- lune of brooding nature's refuge were now taken ; it remained to storm the citadel's self, the bleak heights of snow and ice which put a cruel crown on Sasar's head. It had been hard to understand Ach- bar's report of this strange sentinel-post of com- merce. We had learned that it was a point of exchange and of deposit for goods of all kinds, but that, save for the passing caravan men, it was still "Adam Yok." How can precious bales be left, guarded only by the untenanted rocks? Yet so it is opium lies here in many two-hundred-pound masses left by Kirghiz or Turkestan's caravans which turn backward to the north, taking with them bales of silk or cotton, which, perhaps a month before, were here deposited by some yak caravan, shuttling between Leh and Sasar. Meanwhile caravans have come and have gone, "through" caravans of ponies paying tribute of dead to the mountain spirits, and "shuttle" caravans of camels working between Sasar and the north. Glaciers, Yaks, Skeletons 115 Opportunity breeds the act, and here the Euro- pean would look for theft and deem it a wrong almost condoned, provoked by negligence. But this upheaved world is only seeming wide. The perilous track which we have followed is its whole width, for man ; and some hundreds of Ladakis and Yarkandis, bound in a sort of acquaintance-guild, are its population. Familiar to each other are they, nor less familiar their yaks, camels, and ponies. These honest brutes, in conspiracy with the very snows and sands, spread over this too-narrow world their tell-tale tracks, the entangling meshes of a Bertillon system ; and the keen Hindoo merchants, squatting at Srinagar, Leh, Kashgar, and Yarkand, those master minds which defy nature for traffic's sake, would not easily let go the unseen threads which bind the caravan-man; they are harmless guiding threads if the opium and the silk find their true way over the passes to the destined recess of the noisy bazaar, but sure strangling ropes if aught should go awry. So honesty salutes necessity as her mother, and the riches of the Hindoo may be left for days visited only by that blustering roundsman, the night wind. We were three caravans camped cheek by jowl among Sasar's rocks, all content with much hot tea, wherein was brewed also a certain sense of brotherly love, of sympathy with each other, compacted to- gether in struggle against the night, the mountains, and the bitter cold. Even the luxury of giving to the poor was not denied us, shaggy-haired, dark- faced men from the Balti country coming to the camp-fire, asking bread and warmth that they might n6 Tibet and Turkestan continue some hard, wild venture across the mys- terious mountains stretching westward. One of the caravans of Sasar was that of our old friend, the Aksakol of Yarkand. What a clear-cut face he had ! Our European type seems gross when set against the bronze cameo features of the high- bred Hindoos. And such hospitality in his wel- come, in his congratulations over our escape, in his pleasure over this chance meeting within the heart of the great mountains! His little tent, where we sat to smoke and tea-drink, seemed, because of his kindness, a nest-like home, and Achbar, squat in the tent-door, redeemed himself with fluent phrases, employing at least fifty words. And all this court- esy, this true charity and gentlemanly spirit, grew out of a stomach which had not known meat no, not even pre-natally for generations unnumbered. His caste (one of the subdivisions of the four basic castes) forbade that animal life should feed on animal death. It was a glorious, breathless, freezing struggle we made on the morrow, up and over the great glacier and the vast fields of feathery whiteness. Starting at sixteen thousand five hundred feet, we were soon testing the thin, keen air of eighteen thousand feet elevation ere the icy crest was gained. And from the serene, glistening heights five thousand feet above us we felt the reproving eyes of the Himala- yas looking down upon the toiling ants that strove and sank and rose again in the rifted green, in the drifting white. The vision that comes back to me is one of supernal clarity ; across it, here and there, a veil of snow-born, wind-driven mist ; pressing Glaciers, Yaks, Skeletons 1.17 through it, a line of small black figures, men and yaks and ponies, surging slowly forward to some end known only to these heavily burdened, uncouth Tibetans striding cheerfully in the van of the pant- ing column. Sound is dead. It lives again in the heavy grunt of some shaggy beast as he slips, re- covers, and struggles forward. Then up to the high, clear heaven floats the wild song of the moun- taineers. It rings in the empty air, a triumphant bugle-cry flung into the face of Mother Nature, who, with icy fingers, would slay her children and shroud them here in the eternal silent snows. It is a brave, confident, manly note. By memory's trick comes back to me, as my soul rises to the carol, another song of Asia the last-heard music ere this three months agone, in fetid Bokhara. 'T is the low whining and womanish drone of the boy bay- adere, the voice of weakness and of shame. And if, indeed, in the tired tumult of the city the only concord heard is that which sated luxury sounds, forget not that Asia has yet her mountain- tops and her mountain tribes, who shall lift their incorrigible heads to shout and to echo the cry of a strong man's heart. We may spurn the heavy-eyed sloth of the crowded town, but this man of the hills is our brother. Another memory of the great glacier is that which pictures two among the exhausted toilers, slow, overcome, but persistent. Last of all were they to reach the spent camp at nightfall. They had joined us near the Kirghiz tents, the good Hadji (pilgrim) and his wife. Bound from some obscure town in Western China, they had reached Yarkand in sixty n8 Tibet and Turkestan days; had, through mischance, been separated from the caravan with which they journeyed thence; had been befriended by the nomad Kirghiz, had waited ten days for our coming, and for another ten days had now been our patient, courteous companions. Each rode a stout pony, which must carry also a twenty days' provision of bread and tea, and such thick clothing as was not permanently worn on the body. No daintiness in this, my lady fair, but if your husband be full of zeal for the life to come, if your duty and your pleasure be to follow him, and mayhap gain heaven also, if you live in Western China, and if Mecca lie across vast deserts, titanic mountains, burning sands and freezing snows, then, O lady fair, you must, like the rest of us, Hadjis and explorers, bundle your delicate body in many warm folds and leave it there for many cold days. The good man had already won the green turban, but now his soul yearned again for the sacred city, and this time he goes to live in the shadow of the Kaaba until his spirit shall have been caught up to its awaiting joys, welcomed home by the compas- sionate Prophet, whose word is the Law. And she goes with him, a plain, brown woman, forty-five or more, unconscious of her heroism. She has done more for duty on earth and for hope of heaven than you, average man or woman, may dream of doing. Her home life was of scant com- fort, you would consider it hard, indeed, but it was languorous ease compared with the strain which for weeks she had now uncomplainingly borne. It is three months since she quitted some quiet shelter- ing roof, another month or more ere they may reach Glaciers, Yaks, Skeletons 119 the railway, then pell-mell in the crowded carriages of slow trains, to Bombay or to Karachi. Thence, as steerage passengers, a weary, suffocating voyage to Jeddah; then the short, dusty, teeming, glorious march to Mecca, the body begrimed and worn, the soul enraptured. And if disease and death be met on the way, they are seen to have angelic smiling faces they are the welcome guides to Paradise. Of true truth in all this, nothing I suppose; but of dream truth, of life-supporting, joy-making, faith- begotten, heart-believed truth, a great deal. The Mohammedan Hadji really believes in immortality and makes light of things mundane, as you and I would do if the creed of after-life were fixed in our minds as is the creed of next winter's cold weather. CHAPTER IX TREES, TIBETANS, AND THE TELEGRAPH PANAMIK AND LADAK LEH O PLENDID visions of mountain majesty, wrapped O in cloudy glory, ten thousand feet above Sasar's crest; gorges riven as though by a giant's thrust at the heart of mighty hills ; quick avalanches crashing down the startled slopes ; torrents of boulders, wait- ing to be unleashed by some puny force, that they may rush to fill a valley or destroy a fated caravan ; such are the memories that come and go as now, in slippered ease, I nimbly fly where once I crawled. They are memories that will not tether to the pen. But there comes another image more tractable. At the turn of the dizzy trail, we look across the chasm whose sides we scale, and lo ! a tree, the first to wave familiar salute since fifty days or more. Then the naked mountains, as if resenting the too intimate prying of man, now soon to be seen in his dwellings, began to clothe all their secret places with leafy growth. The eglantine overhung our crag-encircling path, and its perfume subtly evoked memories of the wild approaches to Harar in distant Abyssinia, of plan- tation lanes in sunny Louisiana, of youth and man- hood garlanded, perfumed by this sweet, bold, flower. While our delighted eyes are not yet wonted 120 Trees, Tibetans, and the Telegraph 121 to these lovely sights, when we have climbed by an ever-reversing, ever-returning trail far up the granite facing of a high cliff, there lay far below us the wondrous Nubra valley, green, gold, and russet groves, yellowing fields of grain, and behold ! there were men's houses! White, squared, well-roofed, walled about, and set in orderly array, trooping toward a goodly village called Panamirgh. A nobler sight one may not see than this Himalayan vale set against the far-shining snow -peaks from which the high gods look down to bless. Here Lamaism, sheltered by Sasar's icy rampart on the north, by Kardung's glassy heights on the south, still turns its prayer-wheels, flutters its painted ap- peals to the passing breeze, builds its white shrines more numerous than the living men, piles its myriad carved stones on roadside monuments, sounds its solemn drums, teaches Buddha's distorted word, yet practises a peaceful life and a resigned death, all unmindful of the thin streams of Hinduism or [ohammedanism, flowing backward, forward, along the road which time and Asia's genius, Patience, have worn through the tranquil valley, over the for- bidding mountains, this way to Yarkand and far Kitai, and there to Leh, Kashmir, and all the In- dian world beyond. Dark superstitions may haunt the minds of these remote valley people, but the outward expression of religious feeling is seemly enough. The chortens wayside tombs of saints and shrines for living prayer are white, shapely structures, so much be- yond the building capacity of any one generation of this sparse people that they attest the secular 122 Tibet and Turkestan piety of many ancestors. So, too, the long, low mounds whereon are placed countless stones re- sembling this book in size, each bearing in neat carving the myriad -throated prayer, "Om mani padma Hum." From twenty to a thousand feet in length, from ten to thirty feet in width, these masses built up of rubble walls bear not less than millions of these mute appeals for grace and this in a valley some sixty miles long, and containing not more than six thousand souls. The people have been hewn from the political body to which they belonged. Lhasa is now only their spiritual capital since the Maharajah of Kashmir, some forty years ago, struck at Leh, where reigned a Ladaki king who bent to the distant Dalai Lama's sway. Now the king's palace is empty, and Kashmiri offi- cials lord it over a land whose cue-wearing heads avouch the long reach of China's emperor, overlord to wide-stretched Tibet. The present rulers from the West seem to have emptied, by fright or famine, several of the big monasteries, even here in secluded Nubra, distant three hard days from Leh. But now again the dingy red robes thread back and forth, carrying consolation to satisfied believers. Groups are seen, wayworn, of calm face and worthy mien, who are just in from Lhasa, five hundred miles away. They bring superstition, inspiration, and direc- tion, as it would be brought from Rome to a secluded valley in Spain or Mexico, by some pilgrim priest of long ago. Perhaps because of the recent exodus of priests to Lhasa, the lamas now, in all the Ladak country, are not a devouring horde of locusts, Trees, Tibetans, and the Telegraph 123 eating up the people's plenty, but seem to be a re- served and dignified body not over-numerous for men so profoundly religious as are the Tibetans. Throughout this vale of delight there seemed to be a reasonable comfort, and with less apparent dis- tinction between very rich and very poor than I have seen elsewhere. The houses are rather large, generally of two stories and of solid build ; the monasteries, from three to six stones high, rose in dignity from all but inaccessible rocks. Supplica- tion to heaven is literally "in the air." Nearly every dwelling floats a closely written flag of prayer. Occasionally a vertical cylinder, set in an outer niche, permits the passing worship to be made by a respectful twirl, or the deposit of another prayer- slip that shall find its way to others inside the cylin- der; whence, if there be a listening God, I think its spirit shall fly to Him, for in His sight there should be no little and no big, no poor and no rich, no ridiculous and no solemn in religious ceremonial. Your softly breathed prayer, but for the thought in your heart, is only a vibration of the air. The cylinder-prayer makes also a vibration of the air, and as there is a thought behind it, the celestial values may be equal. In each village we were shown to some proper place for receiving the stranger ; abundant food was procured, that is, chickens, eggs, milk, and bread, and no effort was anywhere made to annoy us by extortion. A pleasing drink, tasting 'twixt wine and beer, cheered the thirsting palate. Curiosity to watch our movements was strong but bridled. The women looked frankly at us and merited our admiring 124 Tibet and Turkestan glances at their comely features and their turquoise- decked tresses. The men were genial, frank, and dirty. We once more had become sensitive in the matter of cleanliness, we could again criticise the unwashed, for had we not bathed? Yea, at the first village, riding up the mountain-side near a high-perched monastery, we found a hot spring, a blessed gift from the Plutonian deeps ! The awful need which it subserved, the revelling joy which it produced, give to that water a perennial current through memory's greenest field. The Maharajah of Kashmir was mighty enough to send conquering armies from Srinagar, sixteen marches distant from Leh, and reduce a country whose military vigour had been sapped for ages by partial application of the non-resistance principle dear to the hearts of Gautama and of Jesus. But the Maharajah himself was not mighty enough to escape the "protection" of a valorous European people whose hearts, like those of all their brethren, have never learned to love humility. So it came to pass that in Panamirgh, twenty marches distant from the nearest permanent British official, we came upon a proclamation of King Edward's enthrone- ment, avouched in proper English and hung in the dak-bungalow. In such strange and outcast places do the antennae that radiate from London and Pekin now learn to touch each other, to irritate, withdraw, return, first at Leh, then at Lhasa, then farther afield. Thrusting aside all contemplation of the eventual, the probable, and the vexed ethical, we rode merrily on through this valley of sumptuous scenery, Trees, Tibetans, and me 1 elegraph 125 ordered industry, inordinate piety, and average morality. On the third day we were at the base of huge Kardung. Its glacis of solid ice proved steeper, its eighteen thousand feet elevation nar- rower, than the front and crest of Sasar. The ponies on which we had cantered through the low lands (twelve thousand to thirteen thousand feet elevation) were quite out of the climbing if burdened with aught save their own weight. They could have done it on stones, but the deceitful ice laid hold upon their feet and tripped them to a bone-breaking fall. Substitution of yaks, happily found at the base of the ice-slope, permitted us to top the slippery height, whence we looked far down into the Indus valley. Now, indeed, the way was won, for ere the night had gone two hours, we were in the dak- bungalow at Leh, and there were English maga- zines, a few months old, but for us, contemporaries. Lassoo had told us of the Padre Sahib we were to see white faces again. Of these we found five all told : an Englishman and his wife, a German and his wife, and a young unmarried Englishwoman, a few months out, all of the Moravian Mission. Yea, and there were others, baby faces in both house- holds. It was the usual story pathetic to all save the actors. For forty years this mission has been at Leh, and there are forty poor Ladakis who profess some sort of allegiance to the gods of the good sahibs. Plainly, conversion is not supposed to be an intel- lectual process. Its usual course may thus be de- scribed : There is a dispensary whose bottles and powders affect the body. There are brilliant chromos i26 Tibet and Turkestan shown before dispensation of medicine. They repre- sent, crudely enough, certain stirring scenes related in the Bible. The sahib, who knows the secrets of the bottles, tells the wondering yokel that here, wearing a purple or green robe, is God on earth, here are His chosen friends, here, in sickly yellow, a man new-raised from the dead. He tells them that God on earth gave rules for living, the same in gen- eral terms which they have heard from Buddha; some particulars, and many European interpreta- tions, constitute the bill of differences. Chiefly this is told: If you believe that the God on earth, of whom the sahibs now speak, is the true and only such manifestation ; then, living as padre sahibs live, you may inherit with them a glorious life eter- nal. If you do not, the alternative is not pleasant. I do not know how much it is emphasised. As result of all this, the medicine, the chromo, the good sahib, son of a powerful people, some humble soul does now and then declare that he be- lieves the God of the sahib and of the bottles to be a good spirit for worship, and he is declared a Christ- ian. No quibbling here about higher criticism, no paltry inquiries into the authenticity of the Gospels, no question of homoosian and homoiosian ; no tear- ing to pieces of the miracles, no fright as to the concordance between Jew-made prophecies and Jew-rejected fulfilments. The sahib's medicine is good, the sahib's chromo is brilliant, the sahib's words are kind then the sahib's God may safely be acknowledged. Poor, dull brain, poor tired heart ! Rome and the Bishop of Westminster are as far away from him as is the seventh pleiad, but og fr 3 PQ Trees, Tibetans, and the Telegraph 127 the medicine brought back the little one's fleeting life. Such a brain and such a heart find God in the quinine and give Him such name as may please the sahib. I think it would be a destructively pathetic expe- rience for the missionaries were it not that the gentle hand of daily custom leads us around the sharp flints of disappointed emotion. The mission- ary becomes attached in human ways to the human lives around him, and the fierce letter of denun- ciation against the unbeliever is unbelieved. The simple, helpful days at the mission slip quietly into years. Jesus will convert the heathen in His own good time; meanwhile faith, and, above all, interest in the new wing of the dispensary, in the new baby of last year's sole convert, in the water-on-the-knee case reported yesterday, in the folklore that is being slowly transformed into literature, in the last white man who flitted through the station, in the papers from home with their strange talk of wild excite- ment on the Bourse, in the letters from home with their talk of mother and sister and cousin even this growing now a little strange to the tranquil hearts in the mission. Such lives have I seen in Abyssinia, in Alaska, in Egypt, in Turkey, in Tur- kestan, in Kashmir, in India. 'T is true my passing glance could not read all that time had writ on the exiled faces. Sometimes disease had drawn its furrow across the once placid brow; sometimes the eyes still mourned a dead love or a dead ambi- tion. But generally, carried on the smooth tide of occupation in medical and school work, the mission life passes the measured hours with such 128 Tibet and Turkestan contentment as you may find in household, in club, or in office. The predecessors of those whom we met in Leh had grown old and had grown away from our world in this sequestered western capital of Lamaism. Age had come on to stale their powers, but not their interest in this Himalayan home. Much persua- sion, we were told, was needed to start them on the twenty days' march to Rawal Pindi, where the shrieking locomotive should remind them of that noisy civilisation which was their birthright. It was a stiff climb which took us up to the mon- astery, temple, and palace, all looking protectingly down upon white houses, half hid by trees, hay- covered roofs, and broad bazaars. In the temple is a great statue of Buddha thrusting its broad shoul- ders through the roof, the head sheltered by an added structure. One mounts a stair in order to look into the quiet, benignant face. Here is no agony of the Crucified. Repose of self-submersion, of self-immersion, of the "dew-drop in the ocean" that is the motive of a Buddhist artist. This was Gautama's dream long time ago, and the dream has been in the minds of millions since, and men have tried to carve and paint this dream into the attitude, into the face, into the very hands of Buddha statues, hoping that other men, gazing in rapt vision, might also have this dream, and that these many should try to live it, and thus be led away from self, the sooner to fall, formless, calm, as the dew-drop in the ocean. For further guide to him who gropes, candles are set at the feet of the statue, as saying, " Here is eternal light ! " Trees, Tibetans, and the Telegraph 129 The Christian looks through such symbolic lights and sees the suffering martyr, save where Rome, in substitution, answering the heart's cry for beauty and for love, has set Mary's beatific face; then, above, he sees the radiance of the risen Saviour who beckons to Him, to the self, and smiles a welcome to that self in its eternal individuality. How should the souls of men be gloriously tried if each might meditate quiet hours ; first in a noble cathedral, with its via crucis, its saints, its woman-god, its Christ crucified and triumphant ; passing thence to a near- by temple, where the silent, brooding peace of the Buddha might be contemplated while time and self slip unnoticed by; then, moving the body but a stone's throw, entering a lofty mosque, untenanted by statue or by picture, unfurnished save by the Koran on a reading-desk, empty save of the felt presence of the only God. This was an insistent thought as we wandered through the sanctuaries on the high hill at Leh. At my side one, a priest of Christ; another, reverential before the Buddha's altar which he daily tended ; and, waiting at the door, faithful Lassoo, looking toward Mecca as the sun sank behind the Himalayas. The king's palace, a rambling, uneven, dark but imposing structure, is now unpeopled. Across the Indus, yonder a dozen miles away, lives the illus- trious, once royal, family, poor but honest. Power has gone to the Dogra, and his power in turn has become but a mirage, floating at the pleasure of the British sun. One of the passions of kings all the world over (this does not include Napoleon) seems to be that for private chapels. Our Ladaki monarch i3.o Tibet and Turkestan worshipped in several elaborately furnished sanctu- aries, one of which had not been opened for years, it was said, when an obsequious attendant showed us its unprovided altars. On a high balcony or rampart, outside the palace, queer little flags were flying, efficient to protect the royal residence from devils, we were told. But that may be symbolic. To European minds it would seem much more important to know how to get water into the palace than how to defy devils out of it. Our own forefathers of the Middle Ages like- wise put their monasteries (can a monastery supply forefathers?) and their castles in just such impossible places as these Tibetan buildings occupy. It is humiliating to think that our monks were probably equally dirty with the Lamas, and more obviously so since the .dust of which we are all made has, in these people, been left in its native hue and brown upon brown is still only brown. fi C T3 C 3J rt o -4-1 B *0 C/3 .1 'u c/r Ladak Leh to Rawal Pindi 137 splendid as to us they seemed, coming out from months of travel in naked lands. One starry night we spent in this enchanting spot. Near by, the Sind curbs his impetuous speed and purls a gentle way, while his valley opens a gracious door to those who come up from the flat, teeming field below. The morning gave us sunshine, fresh eggs, good ponies, and light hearts. To ask more than this is avarice. And now if the eye were for a moment sated with the leafy luxury spread before it, there were men and women to gaze upon clear eyes, graceful garments, upright mien, and some- what of that Caucasian cleanliness which avouched them as our kin. Neatly uniformed natives were directing road- gangs to smooth the path of commerce, and then I knew that I smelled the blood of an English- man, and, dead or alive, I should soon find him. Ere an hour's ride had ended, ponies were seen bearing such truly squared kit-boxes as are unknown to native caravans, and coolies were met, shoulder- ing gun-cases which fairly cry out in leathery tongue, "We were made in England ! " Lassoo and Achbar mingle in the train: "This is a Sahib's caravan?" "Of course." "And the Sahib?" "He is there." Aye, there he was, and the very back of him all British, from the comfortable outing-gear which he wore, to his imperturbable tread which puts sur- veyors' marks on the vale of Kashmir and makes it an extension of Regent's Park. His welcome was not the less courteous, but his measured surprise was the greater when the two white men who bore down upon him proved to be not British, but a 138 Tibet and Turkestan Frenchman and an American rare birds in that part of the world. Colonel Sullivan had started, a few days too late, to make Zoji Pass and do a win- ter's shooting in those fastnesses which, if they would but yield the head of an Ovis Ammon, would be for him Paradise enow. Note the distinction between Colonel Sullivan's ideal retirement and that of Omar Khayyam. The inhospitable wilds of bleakest mountains, a gun, an arduous chase of hermit brutes that is one. The other " A book of verses underneath the bough, A jug of wine, a loaf of bread, and thou Beside me in the wilderness; Oh! wilderness were paradise enow." Mark particularly the absence of "Thou" in the first ideal. There you have the conquest of the Asia that is luxurious or literary by the British man, who has two natures, one that loves and builds St. James Street and the National Museum, and one that loves and conquers the Himalayas. Hindoo ruins, mysteriously suggestive ; a good hotel; plenty of white people, sahibs and mem- sahibs; golf grounds; gay marriage-boats on the river boulevard ; shops overflowing with fascinating goods and oily smiles of the merchants ; a meretri- cious palace rising, effective withal, from the water's edge and hiding the Maharajah's many wives ; din- ners, all mutton because the pious ruler will not have beef slain in his realm ; a busy, comely people filling all the bazaars; two-storied wooden houses, Ladak Leh to Rawal Pindi 139 somewhat rickety but sufficient unto man's needs; mosques and temples in neighbouring rivalry ; splen- did tree-lined avenues leading toward the mountains ; caravans coming and going; dogs and babies under one's feet in the narrow streets such is Srinagar with its hundred and thirty thousand souls domi- nated by the great hill Fakht-i-Suleiman Solomon's throne whose crown is half-temple, half-fortifica- tion. Around it waving green fields, which are cut by roads straight, smooth, and beautifully shaded. And beyond the fields ever the white guardian mountains. The whole valley is such a spot as would be chosen by the high gods (if they had not invented man) for exclusive garden-parties, with the rabble of lesser gods peeking enviously over the walls. Gods failing, the English will doubtless take and "preserve" it. Had not the home-fever now laid fast hold upon us, we should have lingered in this fair lotus-land. Our horseback days were past. We were now to roll on the king's highway, four good wheels beneath us. Three days, and sixty miles 'twixt rising and setting of the sun, would let us gain Rawal Pindi, lying over the western range. These are not tower- ing mountains like the Himalayas, but high enough to have cut off Kashmir from the greasy touch of the locomotive, high enough to have given for ages almost a separate history from that of the surround- ing countries. Englishmen in Srinagar still speak of "going down into India." Most of those who hot-weathered in the English hotel had already "gone down," as we were now well into November. It cost us a pang to turn our backs upon Lassoo and 140 Tibet and Turkestan Achbar, who must hasten over the Gilgit route to Kashgar. Lassoo had compounded in some way with his Ladaki wife and no longer talked of spend- ing the winter in Leh. In parting with these faithful servants we were definitely closing a short, eventful act in our life's drama, an act in which both of them had nobly played their allotted parts. So, it was with a yearning back to the Chang, the great, deso- late, high plains, and to the humble companions who had shared our toils, that we jumped into the impatient tonga and were swept down the royal road to the Outside. And the Outside is, first, Rawal Pindi, which is on the railway, then all India lying before us. It is in the guide-books and in Kipling. You may drink it as beer from the guide-books or sip it as nectar from Kipling. H , U CHAPTER XI A LITTLE STUDY OF THE MAP f)OLITICAL history is as the flesh applied to the 1 dry bones of the skeleton, geography. Study of the one implies knowledge of the other. Were we not, from youth up, generally familiar with the geography of those countries whose history most concerns us, we should the more clearly and often be brought to consider a relation which is obscured, even by its familiarity. The osteology of Central Asia and Tibet is peculiarly important to a study of Asian politics because of its unusual characteristics. While the field for exploration there is still con- siderable, yet the important outlines have been well determined by recent travel. To the practised eye the map (opposite page ) will be, perhaps, more instructive than textual description, but a re'sumt in words will aid the general reader. [Let us begin our survey at the point where we crossed the Russo-Chinese frontier on the way from Osh to Kashgar in the Alai Mountains, approximately 75 east, 40 north. Using round figures for all distances and lo- cations, let us now go north-east twelve hundred and fifty miles. We shall then be at the top of Mongolia, 95 east, 53 north. Everything west of this line is Russian, everything east of it Chinese at present, and our top 141 142 Tibet and Turkestan point is within two hundred miles of the Siberian Rail- way. Now go east one thousand miles Russia to the north, China to the south, the railway generally parallel to our line of march, and two hundred miles away. We have reached the western tip of Manchuria but the dis- tinction between Manchuria and Mongolia, both being Chinese territory, is not politically important. We may go eastward another two hundred miles, into Manchuria, making this second line twelve hundred miles in length east and west. Now strike south-westward twelve hun- dred miles, on a line nearly parallel to the first one, and we shall have left Southern Manchuria and Northern China proper (the China of the eighteen provinces) to the east, enclosing Mongolia, lying to the west; now westward, on a line which refuses to be even approxi- mately straight, for it must follow a curve of the great Altyn-Tagh Kuen-Lun range, but which is roughly an east and west. line. We have now nearly closed our 1200- mile trapezoid. We have reached the Pamirs; and by running north about three hundred miles we are back at the starting-point, having enclosed the area known as Mongolia, and in the south-west corner of the pentagon, which is nearly a trapezoid, we have skirted the region known as Chinese Turkestan roughly, one million and a half square miles, one half the area of the United States. Now for Tibet. Go back to the south end of the third line, near the lake known as Kuku-Nor; thence go southward, cross- ing mountains and streams if you can a hard journey of, say, six hundred miles. You have the southern part of China on the east, Tibet on the west. Now another twelve-hundred-mile line, trending a little north of east, Assam, Bhotam, Sikkim, and Nepal are on the south; Tibet on the north, and you have been cresting the Himalayas all the while. The valley of the Brahmaputra A Little Study of the Map 143 has been crossed at its unexplored elbow, where it turns south, and you have seen it in the great valley north of you, where for hundreds of miles it flows from west to east and is known to the Tibetans as the Tsang-po. Lhasa is in the valley not far from the great river. Now to complete the investiture of Tibet, run a line northward from the west end of the last line, a little west of Nepal's north-west corner; make it about four hundred miles long to join the Kuen-Lun range, and you will thus enclose Tibet, lying to the east of this last line, with Kashmir and part of the north provinces of India to the west of it. Thus your straight lines are, respec- tively, 1 200, 600, 1 200, and 400 miles in length about six hundred thousand square miles in area. Every foot of the boundary is in great mountains on their tops or crossing impossible gorges of rivers that flow out of Tibet; none of those you have crossed flow inward, be- cause Tibet is high very high and the rivers are seek- ing the seas. We have crossed, in drawing the first line, north and south, six hundred miles the headwaters of the Hoang-ho, the Yang-tse-Kiang, the Mekong, the Salwin, and the Irrawaddy these are all the great rivers of China, Siam, and Burmah. Going eastward we have crossed the Brahmaputra and the headwaters of the Ganges, or its northern tributaries. Going north we have crossed the waters of the Indus. These are all the great rivers of India. On the northern boundaries of Tibet we have crossed the headwaters of the Keria, the Khotan, the Karakash, and other smaller streams all going to swell the Tarim or to be lost in the sands. And the Tarim flows inconclusively into an inland lake, Lob Nor, which has no visible connection with the sea. And so it was also for running the boundary of Turkes- tan and Mongolia, except for the desert streams from Tibet, just mentioned, and the Kizil Zu near Kashgar, 144 Tibet and Turkestan also a Tarim affluent. We found nothing coming in all going out. We crossed, or passed near, the head- waters of the Amou Daria (Oxus), the Syr Daria (Jax- artes), whose waters go to the great Russian lake, the Aral Sea, so-called. Then proceeding on the long lines, drawn north-east, then east around Mongolia, we could cross or see the sources of the Irtysh, the Yenisee, the Lena all the tribe of Siberian streams that seek the Arctic Ocean.] We may now give meaning to the long circumfer- ential inspection an airy journey of seven thousand four hundred miles. It is evident that we are deal- ing with great plateaus, one much lower than the other. The Mongolia-Turkestan region has an average elevation of about three thousand five hundred feet. The Turkestan region, separately considered, and with which we are most concerned, is at once a plateau and a depression, since it lies much lower than the mountains surrounding it. This characteristic is not so marked in the Mongol- ian region, as the Gobi desert area is in a sort of great terrace-form, stepping up to the surrounding mountains eastward. The Tibetan plateau, in all its northern (much the larger) area, is approximately at sixteen thousand feet elevation. The great valley, toward which the slope is more gradual from the north than from the south, varies from thirteen thousand to eleven thousand feet elevation ; Lhasa is between eleven and twelve thousand ; Gyangtse, Leh, and indeed all the other considerable towns in similar region are at about the same elevation. The whole of the three great regions we have A Little Study of the Map 145 considered, Turkestan, Mongolia proper, and Tibet, may be broadly put down as desert, save for a few oases (chiefly artificial) and the narrow valleys, in which there is some natural grazing, but which yield valuable crops only to irrigation. There are some regions of good natural grazing, considerable in ex- tent in north-eastern Mongolia. But no important concentrations of population are found except in Turkestan and in the Tsang-po valley of Tibet. Kashgar, Yarkand, and Khotan, which you have patiently traversed with me, are the three big towns. Lhasa, largest of Tibetan cities, is now well understood to contain not more than twenty thousand souls. The present inhabitants of all this almost empty empire are much better fitted to the physical conditions than any European race. And for commerce, the Chinese and Hindus will un- doubtedly hold all the trumps as against possible white competitors. Yet, despite all these frowning facts, Tibet is to-day the scene of a great and bloody political drama, in which the white man plays the r61e of hero or villain which shall it be? And to-morrow, the Turkestan theatre will probably open a rival show, changing the dramatis persona and the stage setting, but closely copying the plot that unwinds itself in Lhasa. 1 1 Some geological and minor geographical notes are given in an Appendix, "A." They are taken largely from a paper read by the author before the Royal Geographical Society, London. CHAPTER XII THE TIBETAN PEOPLE POLYANDRY AND MONAS- TICISM AT the foundation of Tibetan character there is probably the Mongol nature ; an East Indian strain has come in from the rough v/atershed and flat valleys of the trans-Himalayan world. To meas- ure the relative value of these ethnic elements is impossible. Nor is this greatly important in view of a diminishing confidence in our ability to sharply define the traits distinguishing those various stems which constitute the early Eurasian family. The lessons taught us by embryology indicate that the differences must be less as we approach the begin- ning of things, and we look more and more to long-continued geographical and climatic effects for explanation of existing divergences. Even in adopting the highly probable theory of multiple origins for our race, we are yet bound to a recognition of the wide range and enormous force of earth-environment lying between the pole and the equator, between sea-level plain and mountain- top, between rain-sodden swamps and arid desert. So restless has man been, that history records not a single example of a social body known to have been subjected to but one type of physical environ- ment during the period of its development from the 146 ' I; c rt U c3 II ^ .. . . The Tibetan People 14? beast-stage, or lowest man-stage up to its present condition. Assuming a tropical, sea-level condi- tion as that best suited for first development, it may fairly be concluded that the inhabitants of relatively high altitudes and high latitudes have passed through a relatively wide range of ancestral experiences, and hence carry with them to their modern and difficult seats an average temperament resulting from widely varied influences. Thus, in the most central marrow of his bones, in the most hidden promptings of his soul, the Tibetan may be urged by secret influence from the sun-heated slime of the Euphrates delta, from the salty breath of Aral plains, from the freezing winds of Siberian forest, from the heavy exhalation of Indian jungle. However composite he may have been when first he wrestled with niggard nature in the Tsang-po valley and its even less hospitable neighbour-lands, he has, since that time, been singularly free from miscegenation, and has had time to develop a type strongly marked by the very special conditions which surround him. A similar isolation may be noted of peoples in the far north, of the Arab in his inaccessible deserts, of the Abyssinian in the northern part of his high plateau, of the Chinaman in the core of his valley empire, of the African pig- my in his undesired forests. Unique physical features have, in each case, de- veloped unique human traits, which shall be found ineradicable within periods of ordinary historical view. The process of "benevolent assimilation" may then wisely be restricted to the control of external relations and the introduction, slowly, of 148 Tibet and Turkestan a few of the material ameliorations which art has given to human life. Add, perhaps, a regularly and sufficiently paid body of public officials (always a late invention of society), and we have reached the limit of healthful assimilation possible in a body of such special organisation as the Tibetan state. The constraint under which that state has developed is chiefly to be found in the scant area of arable land, the lack of a distributed rain-supply, and the extreme elevation of the whole country. As to the effect of this last very special condition we are un- able to give definition. Certain physiological results may, indeed, be determined, but just how these are translated into physical traits we do not know. We may assume, safely enough, that no such consider- able difference of physical environment can be with- out its due mental effect in man. It is not easy to argue even from the known influence upon those who suddenly enter these conditions back to the in- fluence working itself out in the lives of those who have never known sea-level conditions neither they nor their fathers for many generations before them. The most frequent mental manifestation in the new- comer is an abnormal nervousness, often enough culminating in insomnia. At Leh (eleven thousand eight hundred feet) we were told that a certain British officer had found it exceedingly difficult to sleep in the town proper, and frequently descended to the Indus bank, find- ing in this change of about one thousand feet enough relief to insure normal repose. Akin to this un- pleasant demonstration of nervous excitement, is a certain elation, not infrequently felt, if great physical The Tibetan People 149 effort be avoided ; and, in the long run of travel, this may become a cheerfulness under difficulties which, at lower levels, frequently induce heaviness of spirits, if not actual discouragement. Certain it is that every Tibetan traveller has met with conditions which are always on the edge of being fatal to him, yet in no recital familiar to me can I recall any ex- pressions of that gloom which the honest traveller in Africa or other lowlands has often recounted. Certain also it is that in his struggle for life the Tibetan is cheerful, almost gay. He is dirty it is not easy to be clean when you are poor and live in a perennially cold country, where fuel always, and water often enough, are in scant supply. Would you not, O dainty reader, compromise with your morning bath if it were frozen, if you had no fuel but yak dung, if you must strip in a tempera- ture anywhere below zero? Since, in spite of his dirt, which is a depressing influence, the Tibetan is still a cheerful being, he may fairly thank the thin, keen air, the clear sunshine, the blue sky, for the simple joyousness of his narrow life. But these, for their good results, suppose a living, nourished body, warm with the internal combustion of food. And there 's the rub ! Nearly all the Tibetan fields have been wrenched from the valley's arid flank, have been terraced and revetted against occasional rain- flood, and then have been fed through a tortuous ditch with water from the nearest mountain-stream. The difficulty of thus obtaining workable areas is great, or, in other words, the land supply in this shut-away world being so closely limited, it is obvi- ous that population must be correspondingly limited. 150 Tibet and Turkestan The further difficulty of dividing small fields, which must retain fixed relations to an irrigation system, will largely affect the means which shall uncon- sciously be adopted by society for its perpetuation without increase. Here, indeed, we have the simple relation considered by Malthus the pressure of population upon sustenance, a relation obscured in our world, where continued expansion into new lands (either by direct immigration or by commerce with new peoples) and continued invention, have com- bined to fill easily an increasing number of stomachs. But the Tibetans are so situated that their world is apart ; it is for them almost as if it were all the world a narrow, snow-bound, treeless, upheaved world, in whose rough creases and folds they must scantily live or incontinently die. That some sys- tematic check upon population should appear, to- gether with the variable checks, war and pestilence, is to be supposed. The relative indivisibility of the land has, I believe, determined the particular social forms, polyandry and monasticism, as such system- atic checks. A marriage relation so unique as this, standing quite on the opposite side of normal mono- gamy from the more familiar variant, polygamy, challenges attention and at once declares the exist- ence of special predisposing causes. This is not the occasion for insisting at length upon the generally intimate relation of property to marriage relation. It will be sufficient to summarise thus : In highly developed societies, polygamy (including concubin- age) suggests concentrated wealth and privilege. Monogamy is democratic; it suggests divided prop- erty and privilege. Polyandry suggests poverty and rt u The Tibetan People 151 indivisibility of property. If the last generalisation seems hastily put in line with the two preceding and more obvious principles, I think its truth may be established by inversion of reasoning in considering Tibetan conditions. Suppose a family of three sons, without just now inquiring into the marriage relations of their parents ; suppose a patrimony of miserly fields, which are barely sufficient to sustain the family in question, and suppose this patrimony to be physically difficult to subdivide; the house and court being obviously indivisible, the fields practically so by reason of their small individual areas and their relation to water supply. Suppose it to be exceedingly diffi- cult, nay, practically impossible, to have other fields anywhere within a distance of hundreds of miles. Suppose, in spite of these untoward conditions, each of the three brothers to marry him a wife. We may then postulate as follows: There will be a fight about the division of floor space ; there will be con- tinued wrangling between the families ; there will be frequent and murder-making adulteries ; and there will be too many children to be fed from the meagre field, hence child-killing, or fell disease, must cull the o'er-rich crop. How then shall two objects be accomplished, that of securing a certain sense of unity in the conglomerate family and that of dimin- ishing the number of births? However we might have ingeniously devised other systems, it remains that, impelled by the forces just described, the Tibetans have evolved a custom by which, first, the property goes into the control of the eldest brother; second, the wife chosen by this eldest 152 Tibet and Turkestan brother becomes also the legal spouse of the younger twain. The children of this woman are the objects of a common affection, and when one of her sons shall have grown to full manhood, and shall have married a wife chosen by his parents, he in turn shall come into a primacy of power over the patri- mony, his elders reserving just enough to prolong their habitual comfort not enough to prevent the establishment of a new generation. And thus, in- definitely, the cycle repeats itself ; not less regularly, not less blindly, obeying nature's demand for new individuals, than elsewhere in more favoured lands, by other forms. Should some rare good fortune befall, then the eldest brother may choose another wife, even a third. And so it may be, if the first wife have no children, though the property be not increased. And even when the number of wives is equal to the number of husbands, in polyandrous marriage, it is thought that the fertility of the women is less than if living in the monogamic relation, thus securing in part, that restraint upon population which is most fully developed when, as is often the case, the three brothers have but one wife. Chinese officials reported to M. Grenard that female births are to male as seven to eight. If this be true, we have here a second, unconscious effort to diminish the surplus of unmarried women, which would result from the one-wife and three-husband marriage, taken as the type of polyandric unions. But it is by no means the universal type. Equal numbers of husbands and wives in one family are frequently seen. The women not disposed of in The Tibetan People 153 some form of polyandry are found in polygamous and monogamous unions (not infrequent), in con- vents, and in the loose life. As the various forms of marriage operate to establish almost a balance of sex-numbers, it results that nuns and prostitutes are probably not more numerous than the correspond- ing classes in monastic Europe. The withdrawal of men into monastic life does not affect the problem as directly as it would in a mono- gamous country, since in the typical polyandric family it merely results in a diminution, by one, of the number of husbands married to the wife or wives. It diminishes the number of women actu- ally married under some form, only in so far as the monk may be considered as belonging to a family which might have enjoyed the luxury of mono- gamic or polygamic marriage. Such monks are not numerous. M. Grenard thinks that the various forms of marriage are seen, as to frequency, in the following order: Several husbands with several wives ; several husbands and one wife ; one husband and several wives; one husband and one wife. Whether or not this be exact, it is obvious that by giving legal recognition to this variety of unions, the Tibetans have created an elastic system easily adjustable to the economic condition of individuals or communities. Relatively stable as are these aver- age conditions in Tibet, it may well be supposed that, in so far as they may be disturbed by war or pestilence, there will be change in the position of any particular type of union, appearing in the above series, while the forces work toward the end of main- taining a fixed population in times of normal peace. 154 Tibet and Turkestan That even this ingeniously flexible system has not been able to prevent the considerable development of prostitution goes without saying. That is a bye- product of all systems, or rather it is the fixed and necessary product of forces planted in us when we were indiscriminate as are the unpropertied beasts, and even more indiscriminate than we shall be when socialism shall have swept away private property and marriage with it. The nested wild bird, the laired lion, and the housed man those who have individ- ually built or pre-empted houses for themselves and their young, these are mated. But the man-pro- tected barnyard fowl, the unsheltered grazing herds, and the state-protected man, these are or will be carelessly indiscriminate. And as we never find a human society that is not in transition, bearing marks of dead processes, so we never find a perfectly symmetrical, definite marriage-system, or property- system (these two are wedded), but we must ever find irregularities, exceptions, vermiform appendices. Our European-American world is one of private property, tempered by state ownership and adven- ture to wild land. Its marriage-system is one of monogamy, tempered by adultery, with adventure into the indiscriminate relation. It is not improbable that other influences than those just described have conspired to the establish- ment of polyandry; as, for example, the need of protecting women and children when separated for long periods from that portion of the male popula- tion which must be occupied in caring for distant flocks. If one of three could remain, having at teart the supreme interest of the Family, which en- The Tibetan People 155 globes all his own personal rights and properties, he would be held to a duty which works in favour of all. It may further be supposed that the impossibility of maintaining strict observance of the marriage tie, under these conditions of absence, which must have been more frequent in the past than now, has led to the practical course of legalising, and thus control- ling to good ends, an irregularity which would other- wise breed destructive jealousies and cloud titles of descent. The whole thing may be viewed as an example of family co-operation carried beyond the limits familiar to us, because the conditions pro- ducing family co-operation in any degree are like- wise carried beyond all limits familiar to us. The very rigour of nature's restraints in Tibet has required a more flexible marriage scheme. As there is no such thing as specific morality in the abstract, so there is, in the discussion of this system, no other reasonable inquiry than this Would the substitu- tion of some other system, as ours for example, be followed by greater or less product of human happi- ness happiness in this world? That deep-searching question will not be discussed in these pages. It is sufficient to say that the best observers have re- ported no special, considerable evil as traceable to polyandry, and that, in general, social conditions are, in the long run, adjusted, for the best good, to the controlling physical conditions that "best good" never resulting in an extermination, but only an alleviation of inherent evil in our lives. We, the strong, should be therefore slow to impose our methods upon those whose relations to material nature are widely different from our own. 156 Tibet and Turkestan The feature of Tibetan life which would next at- tract attention by its relative unfamiliarity is the great development of monasticism. M. Grenard estimates the number of monks at five hundred thousand in all Tibet. This obviously is inaccur- ate, if, as further supposed by several observers, the total population be about three million. Adult males would then be about seven hundred thou- sand. Of adult males, M. Grenard estimates the monks to be about one-fourth; but he neglects to work out the result of this assumption, which, for a total population of three million gives approximately one hundred and seventy-five thousand monks widely at variance with the first-given figure. The lower total thus reached is far more probable. The higher figure would, inversely, lead to a total popu- lation of about ten million obviously too great. Dismissing any attempt at accuracy in totals (and apologising to M. Grenard for seeing a single bad grain in a heaped-up measure of soundest wheat) we remain astonished at the high ratio which un- doubtedly holds in this matter. In explanation of it, we do not feel satisfied by a mere reference to the well-known ascetic doctrines of Buddha. Monas- ticism finds in those teachings, as in the gospel of Christ, abundant authority, nay, more, a very special favour, for its practices. Yet we have seen monasticism pass almost entirely from the Christian world the doctrine meanwhile unchanged by any subsequent revelation. And Buddhism has not elsewhere produced such a full crop of adherents (more or less formal) to its creed of abnegation. The causes which filled Europe with monks in the I rt CJ D H The Tibetan People 157 Dark Ages may fairly be taken as related to those that now crown so many Tibetan peaks with high- walled monasteries. The contrast between the European situation during the centuries when mon- achism flourished, and the situation now, in Europe and America, when it does not flourish, may give suggestion as to what are the special conditions tending to develop an institution which is no longer prospering in our world. The most general and striking contrast between the old and the new, in our Western civilisation, is perhaps this, a far wider present extension of set- tled peace, a far greater development of physical comfort, a far wider field for the fruitful application of a man's labour to the piling up of treasure in this world where moth and rust do corrupt. It seems universally true that no inhibition in accepted creed can effectively work to keep large numbers of men from the pursuit of wealth, if that pursuit be rea- sonably safe and reasonably productive. Vows of poverty are taken by multitudes only when it is difficult to escape poverty willy nilly. Moreover, poverty is a relative term, and certainly the self- denial to which monks are pledged often enough became a comfort greater than that enjoyed by the average poor peasant in the brave and hungry days of old. Communal labour added its store to the gifts of a superstitious people, eager to buy celestial favour through a purchased intercession measured to the price. Relative also is obedience. Not more exacting is the abbot, bound by the rule, than the temporal lord who in feudal day owned the homage of his followers as well as the land on which they 158 Tibet and Turkestan lived. And as for the third vow one cannot strictly say that chastity also is relative, yet men know the dark ways of compromise that have been trod by those who failed to follow either the steep heavenward path of observance or the flagrant way of open breach. In all the long record from St. Augustine's pro- test against the upstart ways of the low-born monks unused to respect, down to the recommendation of a Christian Pope in 1650 that certain monasteries be closed, their revenues to go to the Venetian State for the making of bloody war; in a hundred ways we learn that the cloister was at once a chamber of travail and of triumph for a few pure religious souls, and, for grosser minds, a comfortable refuge from the rough battle of life, or an alcove for crime. Its occupant made a better bargain with this world than many a poor devil outside, caught in the meshes of a society marked by poverty for the mass, privilege for the class, and turbulence for all. Such was European society when it bred many monks. Such is Tibet to-day, save that the tur- bulence perhaps is less than that which existed generally in Europe during monkish days. This probably is due to the steady pressure from with- out from China a directing force which has permitted the churchman to control the state, thus making his career more than usually attractive, while rendering the suzerain's task less trying. If the country were a fertile, temperate land, even this ecclesiastic rule might not be bad enough economically bad to prevent an accumulation of wealth among the people and a subsequent revival The Tibetan People 159 of lay power. But here nature seems to have made permanent those conditions which favour monastic development. Nor can it be doubted that in spite of some moral decay (less, it would seem, than in the shameful eras of European orders) there is a certain civilising, conserving influence exerted by bodies of men whose theoretical rule of life is one of simplicity and chanty, and who keep alive the flame of learning among rude peoples. True, theirs is the puerile learning which was so dear to the Christian mind for centuries so satisfying until this world began to be made agreeably interesting. And some may charge the monks with delaying progress toward that betterment of physical condi- tion which will alleviate the misery and eventually lessen the ignorance of the people. In an existence like ours, made up of inextricably crossed cause and effect, we can see but a few se- quences at a time. We do not know that an irrup- tion of the Gauls, an establishment of the feudal system, or an enraged Reformation, have been fol- lowed by more, or less, of evil than would have re- sulted from some supposed alternative course. We only know that they existed ; that we may discover, in close connection with them, certain elements of pain, certain elements of pleasure; and that we are blindly driven on to do and to undo. We may be fairly secure in this, that the violent destruction of any long-established institution by a force exterior to the society which has produced such institution, must generally be immediately followed by evil in much greater proportion than good. The distant future, perhaps, will balance the account ; yet 160 Tibet and Turkestan uncertainty as to the result may well temper an ar- dour for reform which often gratifies the sensibilities of the reformer at the expense of his victim. We (Christendom) have abolished Suttee while we have extended the opium trade. The occasional immolation of a widow on the pyre was a dramatic tragedy which offended us, while the commonplace stage-setting of the hovelled opium-infamy spares our nerves and thus protects itself. So it may be when Tibetan institutions are held in the glaring light of European examination ; our sympathies, which are but the furthest scouts of selfishness, may cry an alarm, affrighted by evil in an unfamil- iar form, and may strike at it hastily, not measur- ing its true magnitude nor making survey of its relations. Imagine, in the European provinces of the year 1 200 A.D., organisations whose powers should be those of feudal lord and prelate combined ; imagine buildings which should be castle and cathedral in one. Then you have, in part, the Tibetan monks and their monasteries. Add to this imagination something borrowed from the great overland traders, lords of commerce, and you may then understand the importance, in Tibetan society, of these bodies of men who combine more functions than any associations with which we are familiar. With the complexity of function has come, of course, a corresponding complexity of organisation. First, there are the two great Orders the Yellows and the Reds and several lesser ones. Each has its General, supervising all the establishments of his order. Each establishment has its head ; its officials The Tibetan People 161 for spiritual and temporal duties; its candidates, its novices, its full-fledged monks of two degrees. Sub- ject to the temporal rule of the monastery much as in our feudal times are the farmers of a certain territory who pay their rents into the treasury of the establishment. Nor have the monks been able to stop their development within the lines of peaceful activity. Rude arms hang on their walls, bows, arrows, spears, and the mediaeval matchlock. Not more ready to be hastened toward the Nirvana of their creed than is the lusty Christian to grasp his promised crown of personal immortality, these monks, who are men, have given blow for blow in that primitive competition which still holds Europe's self under the thrall of its fierce charm. Territorial rights within the land have been delineated thus by force; attack from without has been met by bat- talions of monks; and attempted rebellion of the lay chiefs has been by them subdued. Indeed, by virtue of their superior intelligence and organisa- tion, a long era of quiet, a true pax ecclesiastica, seemed to be stretching mild years before the country when the storm of British anger fell upon the land. Special privilege in Tibet runs not only in favour of the powerful religious bodies just surveyed, but it also upholds a lay aristocracy of inherited wealth the term, of course, is comparative, for Tibet is poor. The important lay functionaries of government are drawn from this class. And indeed, the powerful monks are frequently scions of the noble houses younger sons who find, in their sacred role, a larger power than can now be otherwise secured. 1 62 Tibet and Turkestan The lower classes, therefore, have but little oppor- tunity for individual advancement ; more, however, through the monastery than in any other way. Pride of family is strong, marriages beneath one's inherited rank are rare. As in all lands, the posses- sion of exceptional wealth may put a young man or woman into a class above that of one's birth but the opportunities for fortune-making are very few, for reasons already outlined. In this respect, there- fore, Tibet offers less hope (or fear?) of social revo- lution than might have been held in Europe even in her darkest hours. There, Nature invited, or did not severely punish, the timid efforts of art and commerce. Here, it almost prohibits. Besides the ownership of their inherited lands, a noble family may enjoy the control of certain State lands, given instead of salary, for the exercise of administrative function. Whenever this system of irregular compensation is found, we may confidently look for an equally irregular administration of just- ice. Western civilisation is now outgrowing this evil. The wide corruption in American legislative bodies arises from a neglect of the sound rule of fair and stated compensation for all public service. A somewhat intimate knowledge of this evil has been forced upon me in various affairs, and I do not hesitate to affirm that many American municipalities are conducted, in their legislative and police depart- ments, with as much systematic corruption as has been reported by European travellers and residents in any Asiatic community. Our State legislatures are bad also not quite as bad as the municipal councils. Our city judiciary is bad occasionally, Friends of Ras Worke, Abyssinia. Photo by Mr. J. H. Baird. The Tibetan People 163 but not at all bad in comparison with the legislative bodies. Our higher judiciary is practically pure. Our national legislature contains generally about five per cent, of members in both houses who will sell their votes for money, but probably would hesi- tate to thus be brought to the support of any meas- ure believed by them to be really vicious. Most frequently and this is measurably true of all the bodies here mentioned the bribe-takers approve, in their unbiased judgments (if they can be said to have such) of those measures to which they refuse a vote unless purchased. The five-per-cent. ratio of corruption for the Con- gress of the United States is given as a hearsay approximation by Mr. Bryce in his admirable book The American Commonwealth. I had it in mind when circumstances required that I should know the num- ber, names, and prices of " approachable" members. It is substantially correct. Now note the relation to our comments on Tibetan organisation. Aldermen .are practically without regular pay of any kind. The government of a city is turned over to them and they take their pay as best they can. The State legislators are paid a little. In regions where living is still relatively simple and inexpensive, the pay is sometimes adequate ; the corruption is less. In our national legislature the pay is sufficient to the sup- port in comfort, and without modern luxury, of an ordinary family. The corruption is still less. In our higher judiciary, the pay, while not large, is suf- ficient for comfort, and is, in many cases, assured for longer periods than those fixing the legislative terms. There is substantially no corruption. In city police 1 64 Tibet and Turkestan organisations the pay is generally fair and con- stant. The corruption here is due to two causes: example of the aldermen, and extraordinary power over public women, saloon-keepers, and gamblers, due to our crude methods of dealing with the three irrepressible evils. The same explanation may be given as to the occasional lapses of our police ju- diciary, though a reasonably high pay has largely reduced the evils in this direction. It may thus broadly be seen that when we fail to give a stated, regular, and reasonable compensation for public service, we find bribery taking the place of honour- able reward. We must recognise that we cannot be governed without paying, on the average, nearly as much for the talents employed as would be gained by the same talents engaged in private effort. The rule is somewhat obscured by the value put upon celebrity, more easily attained in public than in private service, and the varying degree of security in employment, sometimes greater, sometimes less, for the office- holder than for the private citizen. These ex- ceptions are more readily understood than those supposed to be offered by such great non-salaried legislative bodies as the English Parliament. The exception, however, is much more in appearance than in reality. First, the hard work of Parliament is done by comparatively few among the more than six hundred members, and most of these few are holders of salaried offices ; and, second, as nearly all members of the House, and all members of the Lords, are drawn from the wealthy class; and again, chiefly from the class of inherited wealth, the nation The Tibetan People 165 is paying handsomely enough for their service by permitting large patrimonies to descend from gen- eration to generation, thus giving to the inheritors a very substantial support, against which it draws a moderate return of public service. Because all inheritors of estates do not make such return, the implied compact is somewhat obscured to the in- telligence of some observers. The true principles stand out more clearly in the actual relations of the royal family, and the theoretical relations of the nobility, toward the State. In so far as the in- heritance of great fortune, without public service, is continued, there begin now to appear adjustments which express the public conscience on the subject. These are obvious in England. They were loud as the thunder, vivid and fatal as the lightning, about a century ago, in France. This excursive reflection upon the lordly states of our Western world may seem to be an unwarranted going-away from our text, which is just now the poor mountain state of the snow-world. But the comparison is meant to suggest something which I consider more important at my hands than the piling up of detailed description of Tibetan custom. Other travellers have had much larger opportunity than I to obtain such facts, and, in all their mani- fold suggestiveness to various special students, they have been admirably set forth in works from which, if such full presentation were my task, I should be forced to bountifully copy. But it has seemed to me a better use of my small experience and my reading to set forth only the larger features of Tibetan life; to seek that which is common to us all, 1 66 Tibet and Turkestan under various manifestation, and, lastly, chiefly, to urge that inward charity of thought, and that out- ward charity of act (soon perhaps to follow), which is born only of intelligent sympathy. This tendency to seek the good that is cloaked in evil is one that may not at once meet the approval of Exeter Hall or Faneuil Hall, though ultimately their reach toward honest things would bring us together. Uncompromising war upon an obvious evil, with incidental wholesale condemnation of men who have inherited an offensive institution, such is the rough-and-ready method, which has a merit that I shall not contest and cannot attain. Polyandry, polygamy, monastic power, feudal law, all these appear as abuses to the hasty eye ; and indeed they fall within the universal rule of good- and-bad, the bad being prominent to our examina- tion. But they will "yield to treatment," to the treatment of physical science relieving physical want. Let us then give, nor urge even this, a knowledge of those things which have helped us in this world (as we think), and let this force work its fated changes. As to our religion, let it be offered only by humble, patient men who shall not damn a thousand dear traditions as deadly sins. Perhaps then some of their hearers will prefer to utter the name Christ, rather than some other sound, in addressing the Power behind the Law and the Hope. CHAPTER XIII RELIGION IN Tibet there are two religious bodies ; the Bud- dhists, whom we now generally call Lamaists, and the Pon-bo. These two have a common basis in the ancient worship of a medley of gods, repre- senting more or less obviously the forces of nature. Connected with this mythology was a burdensome belief in magic. Much of all these tyrannical fears has survived even in Lamaism, while the Pon-bo creed of to-day, which does not profess Buddha at all, is substantially the ancient cult, still held by those whose ancestors, for various reasons, failed to "go over " in the days when the newly imported re- ligion was covering the land. The lower, grosser elements of Lamaism are substantially repeated among the Pon-bo ; or rather we may say that the vulgar Lamaist has the Pon-bo creed plus some vague notion of Gautama's high abstractions. The relation between the two bodies is similar to that which might have been seen in Europe as late as the sixth century A.D., when there still existed communities professing the ancient paganism, while enthroned Christianity had not been able to free itself from a heritage of magic, witch and devil cult, and had shifted the worship of the Finite from demi- gods to saints. But then in Europe, as now in Tibet 167 1 68 Tibet and Turkestan there were some (a few) who drank such pure water as the higher creed may offer to the most enlight- ened, thirsting soul. A personal, anthropomorphic God, an individual, personal, corporeal immortality, a half-militant faith in certain personal relations of the Teacher these are keystones in the arch of Christian belief not to be displaced by the most generalising mind that would still call itself faithful. And most helpful are they to the spirit of lower flight, just rising from the earth, building its resting- place with familiar concrete material. Even the frightful vision of hell which, wonder- fully enough, was not expelled from the compas- sionate dreams of Christ, would stimulate rather than destroy the faith of those who, in gusty bar- barism, had sought the extremes of punishment for their enemies, and had imagined their dead as still on horseback, still fighting some undying foe. Gratified with the hope of a happy resurrection of the body for himself, the zealous saint felt urged by childish reason, as well as by inspiration, to con- struct for the unfaithful sinner an eternal bodily punishment, equal in its kind with the felicity promised to himself. Surely these are easier steeps to climb, for untutored minds, than the ascent to Buddha's heights. Here, there is no God, only an unnamed, infinite, hence undefined, principle of creation. The universe is bound in absolute law. Separate existence is bound up, under the invaria- ble law, with desire, and desire with evil ; death is a portal, opening, first, to another life, whose evil will be proportioned to the desire that has raged in this ; through successive deaths life is led to Nirvana, e TD 2 bJD i CU p Religion 169 extinction of personal identity, the sole reward to those who have wholly conquered desire in the struggle of human existence. Our sins shall punish another entity than that which is the present ego ; our virtues shall ultimately help the separated drop to sink again into the untroubled ocean, not to sparkle for ever in some iridescent beam of personal happiness. Nor can this return of the troubled part to everlasting peace in the undivided whole be ac- complished here in our life, save by an ascetic course which lies far beyond the power of the usual man. He, however, by strict virtue in the common life, as father, brother, husband, neighbour, may happily reflect that the Kharma of his life, the resultant moral force of it, shall permit some other man, later born, to start his course nearer to the goal, which ever is extinction of desire and of separated self. Truly this is too hard for rough mountain barbarians. Even the corrupted doctrines which came to the Tibetans a thousand years after Gautama died have by them been yet further corrupted. A vast sys- tem of Aberglaube (extra belief of Matthew Arnold) has overgrown the Buddha's original impersonal generalisations. Moral qualities have grown into gods. ' ' Emanations' ' have become persons. Myths of virgin birth, giving sanctity to Gautama's mother; of infantile wisdom and heavenly prodigies leading to worship of the babe by wise men; of superhuman strength in human contest with spear and bow, all these had been added to the Buddhist arsenal of argument before the Great Vehicle was taken up to Tibet from Northern India. Doubtless they were of great avail in making converts. Weaker 1 70 Tibet and Turkestan minds found support in all these grosser imagin- ings, the work of all the early minds of like weakness who had vainly tried to grasp the abstract, and had unconsciously built rude scaffolding in the trees when their wings refused to bear them toward the sun. Yet in spite of these deformations, the doctrine retained something of beauty. It seems particularly to have put a higher value upon human life, and what we consider a grotesque value upon life in general. It stopped human sacrifice and softened men's hearts and manners by its insistence upon universal charity. Much very much remains to be done in this, the master work of Christian and of Buddhist doctrine, but surely a beginning was made among the wild people of the snows. The troublesome element in the establishment of the new faith seems to have been the monkish organisa- tion. It at once became a rival in power-lust with the lay chiefs. Nothing shows more clearly than this the great departure which had been made from the original teaching. Buddha, even less than Christ, had imagined his followers as a sort of mili- tant body animated by the demon of ambition. There is nothing in Buddha's speech of the deep partisan spirit ringing in the words, "If ye are not for me ye are against me," and again, "I come to bring a sword." But he had told his followers to preach his doctrine. To this end, they had organ- ised. Organisation carries with it the seed of con- test, and we are at once led to Darwinian phrase, while making the double struggle, to know what is "fittest," and how to use it, for survival against Religion 17 l our competitor. It seems not improbable that the persecutions which drove Buddhism from India, its birth-place, where it had greatly flourished for cent- uries, were due to excesses of the monastic orders. The people were unable to see the Enlightened One through the dark cloud of his nominal followers ; no reformer arose to correct the abuses from within, and away they were swept, abuses and monasteries and all, and have never yet reappeared in India. Ceylon, Burmah, Siam, Tibet, China, and Japan (after a fashion), these are the lands where Gautama is now worshipped. The early persecution of the monks by a Tibetan king suggests that their organisations were full of the spirit which caused their destruction in India, but has eventually caused their triumph in Tibet. Here they proved the stronger, partly because the people were more ignorant, more superstitious in their bleak mountain homes, and partly because of the external pressure already mentioned. When the purification due to persecution had again changed to decay, another effort, this by reformation, took place in the fourteenth century. There arose one who, himself a lama, cried out against the abuses of the lamas in their private lives and in their relations with the people. Tsongkapa's work has been com- pared by Catholics to Hildebrand's, by Protestants to Luther's. There is indeed a similarity but also a marked distinction between the Tibetan and the German reformer. Lamaism had not developed a power as concen- trated as that of Rome. It was not necessary to break from an all-including organisation, nor did 172 Tibet and Turkestan Tsongkapa present new theories of control. If Luther, while insisting upon better morals among churchmen, had, for furthering that end, set up a northern Papacy, he would have more nearly dupli- cated the work of his predecessor, dead a century before the beginning of the great struggle between mighty pope and simple priest. Tsongkapa lived to see great monasteries under his rule, to hear his yellow-hooded monks acclaimed by the people, who turned their backs upon the older unreformed Red- hoods. The order which he thus founded or, more strictly, rejuvenated, became so powerful that ere long its head was called the Dalai Lama, the great Lama. 1 This great Abbot was soon recognised, together with another Incarnation, the Pantchen Lama, as forming a sort of sovereign partnership over the whole country. And now the horn of the Dalai Lama has been exalted, it is higher than that of his brother or rival. He is called Glorious King, while the other is Glorious Teacher, and he has great temporal power added to his religious function. When one of these two has died, the other seeks his successor; three children are chosen, signs of special virtue in these three being discernible by the 1 Father Hendricks declares the true etymology would establish Dalai as meaning Ocean as well as great, and that this name was given to the abbot who was supposed to descend, in office, from the Christian priests sent in by Genghiz Khan, a priest from afar, from the ocean. Failing foreign successors, he who administered the ritual of the Ocean Lama was called by that name. The similarity of rites and organisation between Rome and Lhasa is believed by Father Hendricks to be due to such early mission work. But Buddhist ceremonial was developed before that of Rome. Religion 173 initiated ; their names are put in a golden urn, and, in the presence of many abbots and of the Chinese legate, a heaven-directed lottery takes place: the first-drawn name is believed to be that of the child who has received the Kharma of the dead. These incarnations are called Bodisats, a series of individ- uals ancestrally related to each other in so far as Kharma (general moral influence left by a life) can be said to constitute ancestry. They are in a series which will inevitably end in the production of a true Buddha, an Enlightened One, receiving that fulness of wisdom which came to Gautama meditating under the Bo tree. And this wisdom shall again declare the ways of salvation to a world which shall have for- gotten the messages already heard. The dreamers of the faith have imagined Bodisats celestial and ter- restrial ; they are here and there in various stages of development; and the theory of them provides an inexhaustible source of saint-making, yields an an- gelic hierarchy and multiplies the objects of adora- tion. The similarity between this evolution and that of angel-and-saint cult in Christian history must strike the most careless observer. The com- mon effects suggest a common source, which cannot well be an exclusive revelation. The selection of a babe as spiritual head con- stitutes a most important point of departure from the Roman system, and marks the Tibetan method as distinctly the inferior in respect to obtaining meritorious chiefs. The way is left wide open for cabal and chicanery, such as existed for a time in the Roman Church, permitting children (a Benedict IV., and even a maid, 't is said), to be named as 174 Tibet and Turkestan the Vicar of Christ. There is no contrariety in this choice of children, to the requirements of in- spired pronouncements on doctrine alone; or to the conditions involved in the mere existence of a passive, meditating soul, forgetful of the world, as in the abstract of the Tibetan creed. But masses of men never get far away from the interests of this world, save by the wide door of death ; hence upon both systems has been grafted the branch of tem- poral power and church administration, which requires a stout trunk of personal intelligence, sobriety, honour, and mature judgment in the chief. The choice in Rome is now largely determined by the known record of abilities displayed on a large stage of action. As the Tibetan system makes this impossible, the appearance of intelligence and strength in the pontifical chairs is merely chanceful. Power, therefore, is generally left to the ring of monks who correspond roughly to the College of Cardinals at Rome. The present Dalai Lama marks an exception to the rule of incompetence in the Sacred Head. Between the two great incarnations and their re- spective orders there seems to have been a creditable peace for longer periods than would thus have been measured, I think, had not the Chinese power been strong to check, encourage, balance, as the interest of the State and that of the suzerain required. Ffee as was the earliest Buddhist teaching from the almost universal beliefs in magic, witches, and devils, these had already gained control of the minds of all who professed the Great Vehicle when it came to Tibet, of all save the occasional few who, in o O a "o OH O Religion 175 every age, in every religion, have had clearer, higher vision. There was, therefore, no generally recog- nised principle in the new faith which could ever make war upon the gross fetichism of the ignorant tribes who were so far from all the world's centres of thought. Yet even a closer touch at that time would not have done much to expurgate from their minds those childish and dreadful fancies which civilisation has not yet entirely driven from Paris or New York. While palmists, clairvoyants, and sellers of images may flourish in our capitals ; while Friday bears a shady reputation, and dinners of thirteen are much less frequent than those of eleven and of fifteen, just so long may we feel sure that on the far Tibetan plateau we have found a long-lost brother with whom, hand in hand, we wend a painful way across the glooms of time. "And yet dark night strangles the travelling lamp. Is 't night's predominance or the day's shame, That darkness does the face of earth entomb, When living light should kiss it? " We, however, seem to be in the thinning edge of the black, witch-haunted forest, while our Tibetan brother is still in its darkest centre. Let us learn, by translation from M. Grenard's vivid pages, what we were, what the Tibetans are, by virtue of de- veloping such ideas as those that damn the day Friday and the number thirteen. "Of Buddha, who established as principle the abnega- tion of worldly vanities, who set forth as aim the annihila- 176 Tibet and Turkestan tion of self, they ask riches, health, and the satisfaction of covetousness and pride, they constrain him by the most solemn of all ceremonies to produce the elixir of longevity. Prayers are said for the dead, as if the de- parted could escape the fatal consequences of their acts. If Buddha is not to be moved, they address prayers to one of the innumerable gods who surround him, each of whom has his particular role, his special power, a shape peculiar to him, horrible or agreeable, his personal char- acter, peevish or kind, courteous chamberlains, gracious ladies-in-waiting, generals, savage defenders of the faith, fearful duennas, not to speak of the devilish beasts which prowl in the neighbourhood, seeking something to de- vour. The supernatural world is a court where good and bad places are distributed for the life to come, as well as spiritual graces and temporal goods, calamities and misfortunes. To obtain the one, and to escape the others, the Tibetans exhaust themselves in attempts, in petitions, in intrigues, and in gifts. They build thou- sands of temples, make thousands of statues, burn myriads of sticks of incense, prostrate themselves, chant hymns, murmur endless prayers, grind still greater num- bers of them in water- or hand-mills, recite the rosary, celebrate solemn services, make offerings and give ban- quets to all the gods and devils, wear amulets and relics, write talismans, and fly streamers covered with prayers or emblems of good-luck, which the breeze scatters to the four winds, accumulate countless heaps of stones covered with pious inscriptions, turn around all the objects which they consider sacred, mountains, lakes, temples, stone piles, make processions and pilgrimages, swallow indulgences in the shape of pills, which the lamas have compounded with relics, imbibe with contri- tion the heavenly nectar composed of the ten impurities, such as human flesh, the excrements, and urine, practice "Religion 17? exorcism, necromancy, and magic, even to obtain spiritual blessings, enact pious mysteries, perform strange and furious dances to drive away or destroy the demon; and thus is Tibet wildly caught up and carried off by the whirlwind of religious insanity." It is not intended here to treat at length of the language and literature of Tibet. Several specialists such as Csoma de Koros, Ed. Foucaux, A. A. Georgi, H. A. Jaeschke, and W. W. Rockhill may be consulted by those who desire to study these subjects. Very briefly it may be stated that the Tibetan dialects are said to be of the Tibeto-Burman family, which, in turn, is referred to the Turano-Scythian stock. Changes of pronunciation that have taken place in the last twelve hundred years have not been followed by corresponding changes in the original written forms of words. Tibetan orthography, there- fore, as tested by present usage of spoken words, is perhaps farther removed from a true phonetic sys- tem than is the orthography of any other language pretending to represent sounds by letters. Tibetan literature consists almost exclusively of sacred writings and historical records. Their char- acter may be given approximately by the one word ' ' monkish. " It is the literature of our own dark ages. In Appendix C are to be found some examples of Tibetan songs, as gathered from the lips of the people by Moravian missionaries. Many readers, I think, will be surprised at the gracefulness of thought appearing in these compositions. CHAPTER XIV INDUSTRY AND ART TIBETAN ARCHITECTS CARAVAN VS. RAILWAY AMONG the notable achievements of our mount- ain fplk must be accounted their progress as builders. /Such structures as the great monasteries and the kingly residences would be remarked in any country, at least for their magnitude. In China are pagodas high enough, in India are magnificent mosques, of one clear spring from floor to dome- top ; but neither in China nor in India are to be seen such many-storied, myriad-roomed buildings as in Tibet. Yet from China and from India have come the seeds of all development beyond the tent and the hut. Special influences have caused the extra- ordinary growth of the building art among a people whose souls are not mechanical./ Analysis of such a result, in the absence of full historical data, is hazardous, hence somewhat tempting. /Three conditions have seemed 4o me chiefly re- sponsible for a superiority, which, in comparing all other characteristics with those of their neighbours, may be considered as almost an eccentricity of the Tibetans: An abundance of stone, steep roughness of building sites, and the communal life of the monks, these three conditions conspire to produce the sky-scraping masses, in which are hived the 178 Industry and Art 179 pious bees who sip every flower that blooms in Tibet. In a land so sterile and so cold, architecture is saved from rioting into an over-florid style and is even stunted in its outreachings toward grace, but it attains unto dignity. As in every similar case of a single inspiration operating within almost unvary- ing environment, there results great uniformity, such, indeed, that the monasteries of Ladak and those around Sining in the Far East might change places over night without discovery./ It is highly suggestive as to the future possible development of the Tibetan people that, given a powerful impulse in a given direction, they have shown engineering capacity of so high an order as that involved in the erection of these great structures. That they have often chosen the most inaccessible among many difficult sites may be due chiefly to the same mili- tary consideration which determined the uncomfort- able and picturesque locations of so many European piles built in the brave days of old. It is pleasing to think, also, that the artistic fitness of the thing isolation of dwelling, and withdrawal from the world's illusions may have partly ruled the build- ers' minds. Shall we also charitably assume that the theoreti- cal unworldliness of the ruling class may account for the neglect of ways of communication? One who has been tried by these roads is quick to wrath, yet I have seen as bad in Abyssinia as in Ladak. And every traveller in China bewails the strange lack of public spirit which bequeaths to each generation the ruts and bumps of its predecessor. Even America, inspired with mechanical cult, sins greatly in this i8o Tibet and Turkestan respect. Wheeled vehicles would demand a vast expenditure probably an impossible sum for so poor a country as Tibet, having such long lines, such rough conditions. Until the wagon road is justified, pack-trails remain everywhere just good enough to permit passage, and are an abiding marvel to European travellers. Several continuous tracks may be followed from Lhasa to China ; the route followed by the English expedition from Darjeeling is the shortest line con- necting Lhasa with the civilised world; a long, difficult line leads to the far west of Tibet and to Ladak, now belonging to Kashmir; branching to the south from this east-and-west trail are several possible routes leading into Nepal. To the north there are no recognised lines save well to the east, going up to the Kokonor region, and, farther west, a pilgrim route for Mongolians coming to their Holy City. The main streams of commerce flow to and fro 'twixt China and Tibet. The burly yak demands as little in the way of footing and of food as any self-respecting beast could ask, yet even he must pant and strain and die in the hard scramble over glacier and stone that mark the long leagues to China. Slower than the horse, the yak is also surer-footed and less easily frozen to death. He makes up into an irregular jumbled caravan, never learning the strict discipline of single-file march, which ponies are taught to pre- fer, and which camels seem to have learned in an earlier incarnation. It is this impassive, dignified brute, the camel, who has so powerfully affected the imaginations and thus falsified the calculations Industry and Art 181 of European travellers in their estimates of Oriental wealth. When Europe was poor, Asia was relatively rich, but never as rich as the camel would have one be- lieve. When you see even a hundred of him mark- ing the distant plain with immutable pace you would swear him to be some gnome in Pluto's service, bearing half a world's wealth. But the simplest arithmetic shows that the whole caravan load is less in weight than that of one big American freight car. So it is that only the most precious commodities can be interchanged even at the astonishingly low per-diem rates of hire for man, and the equally low rate of food-consumption exacted by the self-re- straining brute. Thus let us pursue the calculation on the basis of forty cents per day per camel, paid by us to the Kirghiz in Western Tibet. Each burden was about four hundred pounds, and the day's march averaged about fifteen miles; that makes the cost per ton-mile about thirteen cents. On the great railways of America the corresponding figure is 0.65 cents, or one twentieth as great. Such com- parisons have led to the dreaming of fabulous profits by the over-zealous promoters of steam railways in caravan lands, the infirmity of their calculations arising from an over-estimate of the total amount of merchandise to be handled. The dominating feature of Tibetan traffic is tea, imported from China, chiefly through the mart of Ta-chien-lu, where caravans sent from Lhasa and even from Shegatze are loaded annually with thir- teen millions of pounds of the heaven-sent leaf. Coming out of Tibet, their loads have been lighter 1 82 Tibet and Turkestan wool, hides, musk, amber, saffron, and some gold- dust from the various small placer-works of the Himalayan slopes. Compared with this tea-trade, all other commer- cial movements in Tibet are insignificant. A few European trinkets and some cotton goods, a small quantity of amber, and, lately, a fair volume of rupees are brought in exchange for the wool and gold-dust and Chinese tea which go into Nepal or Sikkim, and a little to Ladak. If we consider the tea-trade alone at Ta-chien-lu, its value there, in- creased by, say, twenty per cent., will cover the total foreign trade of the country. Considered as weight of merchandise to be transported, it will exceed that of all outgoing and all other incoming goods. In the Ta-chien-lu market, M. Grenard, whose figures are the latest reliably reported, found common varieties worth about seven cents per pound (8.5 pence per kilo), while high grades sold at about twenty cents per pound. It is probable that there is much more of the former than of the latter. We may take ten cents per pound as an approximate average. Hence it would appear that the Tibetans pay $1,300,000 for that staple, which means more to them than does any other food, except bread, to any civilised people. Increasing this by twenty per cent, we find $1,560,000 as the approximate total of their present purchasing power. The average price of tea in Lhasa (Grenard) seems to be about twenty-five cents per pound, cost of transport and profit having added one hundred and fifty per cent, of the value at Ta-chien-lu. If we assume ten cents per pound for transport and Industry and Art 183 five cents for profit we shall fall measurably near the figure above given for caravan charges (thirteen pence per ton-mile) and measurably near the figure for profit which would be enforceable as against frauds on the custom house and the recognised monopolies. The figure thus given for annual trans- port charges, say $1,500,000 (or, say, 300,000), is one that appeals somewhat to our cupidity. But let us study it further, first remarking that the city of Washington, with three hundred thousand in- habitants (about one-tenth the population of Tibet), pays twice as much annually for its tramway fares, i. e., twice as much as Tibet pays for substantially all of its "long-haul" freight service. The thirteen million pounds of tea may, with other imports, sup- posing all to be concentrated at one point, be in- creased to a total of say sixteen million pounds of incoming merchandise. Taking a sixty-car train of modern American freight cars, we see that six trains per year would haul the entire imported load of the country, and these trains, outgoing, would not be more than half-filled. The length of line over which this sixteen million pounds must be carried is something like twelve hundred miles. The idea of building a railway of such length in such country is, indeed, fantastic; but, merely to pursue the matter to its limits from our usual point of view, let us calculate such con- struction at the low figure of sixty thousand dollars per mile, then the interest charge at five per cent, on seventy-two million dollars is more than double the amount now paid for freight transportation, even though the rate be twenty times that familiar in 184 Tibet and Turkestan Western countries. The substitution of the shorter line of caravan travel via the Chumbi valley to Dar- jeeling would diminish the national expenditure for transportation by a considerable amount probably would cut it in half. But, short as that line is, its profile is such as to make railway construction and permanent railway operation fall beyond the bounds of practicability. Invention must make some other great conquest of nature's secrets ere the Himalayas be scaled by other transport than the crawling caravan. Let us not fancy, then, that we shall be able to bless the Tibetans with our civilisation, which is dis- tinctly that of steam, marked in a hundred ways by steam ; set off by steam in a hundred ways from the European civilisation which preceded it; and which, indeed, being without steam, resembled the Tibetan civilisation more than it resembles us. We are its children, indeed, but children who have seen another light. In Tibet, where the country is particularly stub- born against the engineer's attacks, we may find in the years to come our only refuge in all the civilised world from the clangour of our Frankenstein's bells. Let us here and now offer up thanks to a foreseeing Providence for that the Himalayas have been made high and steep. CHAPTER XV SKETCH OF TIBETAN HISTORY FROM MISTY BEGIN- NINGS, 350 A.D. (?), TO JOHN BULL'S APPEARANCE HERE all is darkness until the fourth or fifth century of our era. In Chinese records, long anterior to the establishment of an ordered state, reference is made to the Kiang tribes of the Koko- nor and adjoining regions; but they seem to have been then merely savage bands, not constituting an organised government advanced beyond the tribal status. The impulsion toward centralisation came from without, and may have been accompanied by some measure of compulsion, though the record runs that a disaffected prince from the province of Kan-su (North China) moved his people westward and established himself among the Kiang tribes, who were won to his sway by his justice and firm- ness as a ruler. This exodus is presumed to have taken place about 433 A.D. The name of Fanni is given the leader, and his nationality is presump- tively Chinese. It must be remembered, however, that the region from which he came lies not far from the home of the northern barbarians, and that the time was, and for a century had been, one of great disorder, marked by incursions of the Mongols across the line of the Great Wall. 185 1 86 Tibet and Turkestan It is not improbable that these semi-civilised im- migrants into what is now Tibetan territory were of mixed blood, in which the nomadic Mongol instinct predominated over the stay-at-home feeling of the true Chinaman from the central provinces, who had civilised and absorbed several conquering hordes of the north. However that may be, the subsequent fusion with indigenous tribes has produced a type easily distinguishable from that of Pekin. Tib- etan chronicles, written by Buddhist lamas, boldly ascend beyond the fairly well-established date of the coming of Fanni, and recite legends concern- ing kings from the south. To derive their nation's origin from this quarter would flatter their religious prejudices. The unsatisfying character of these legends, until the stream of them reaches the time and event set forth by the Chinese records, tends to give to the latter a yet greater credence. Never- theless, the traditions looking toward India, or at least toward Bhutan and Nepal, are not to be wholly neglected. Travel between Tibetan territory and any other is, indeed, hard, but between Central Tibet and Nepal it is easier than with Western China. It is not improbable that there is something of truth in these stories of southern kings establishing dynasties antedating by several centuries that which was founded by Fanni. There is space enough, and the central (Lhasa) region is separated from the eastern districts by enough physical difficulty to justify the supposition that independent, though inconsiderable, states may have existed in the Tsang valley before Fanni came to the north-east region. His success there may have soon resulted in coali- Sketch of Tibetan History 187 tion of government and blood with the central and western peoples, thus putting into the veins of the modern Tibetan strains which run from widely sep- arated sources, and producing a type marked by special characteristics. It cannot be supposed, however, that the immigration from the south was numerous or that it came from the splendid Hindu civilisation which lay south and west of Nepal, and which was highly developed long before even the legendary beginning of the southern dynasties (circa 300 B.C.). For even these prejudiced compilers of the pro-Indian stories declare that knowledge of arithmetic was imported from China about the year 600 A.D., and, though the art of writing is said to have come from India, it is evident that it came but as a part of the Buddhistic mission work and was not known until the year 632 A.D. The Hindu civilisation would have furnished both these accom- plishments from the beginning of any colonisation traceable to such a source. Nothing could better illustrate the seclusion of this people than this extraordinarily late date for the introduction of the three R's. It suggests that the Fanni movement was, indeed, that of a people on the rim of Chinese civilisation and that the mythical Indian kings of the lamas' chronicles were but rude mountain chiefs from Bhutan or Nepal. Turkestan, desert- and mountain-bound as it is, had its letters eight hundred years earlier than this secluded land a Bastile built by demons, where a nation might be forgotten. 1 1 In accepting the early part of the seventh century as the date of writing's birth in Tibet, we must compromise with a Chinese record, 1 88 Tibet and Turkestan /The acceptance of a religious creed by a people /already endowed with civil arts can never be as pro- foundly efficient to inspire a national development as when there monies to barbarians, with religion, a first knowledge also of all the things which make for material enlightenment. Adopted Christianity could not save the gilded-, educated Rome, which enthroned it, from a direful fall. But given to the invading barbarians, with all the retinue of Roman quoted by Rockhill, which would seem to establish the existence as early as the year 600 A.D. of a woman-governed country, lying in Eastern Tibet, and near to the territory occupied by the Tu-Ku-Hun (Fanni) immigrants. The difficulty presented by this record lies in the fact that the queen is reported as living in a nine-storied house, and her subjects as occupying smaller, yet considerable buildings. It seems incredible that a people capable of such engineering as is involved in the construction of great buildings should be without a written language. If this woman's kingdom existed as reported, if it had a written language, then the larger Tibetan state, whose or- ganisation must have included the domains of the legendary queens would not have stood in need of an imported alphabet ; and, further, a nine-storied civilisation could fairly be expected to leave some record of its existence, written or traditional, among the people who are its direct descendants. Yet, apparently only the Chinese learned of the extraordinary society which they report as having its seats adjacent to those of the other sixth-century peoples, the Tu- Ku-Hun and the T'ang Hsiang. Both of these are described by the same records as living in tents, signifying a rude, nomadic life strongly contrasted with the civil development suggested by the royal "sky-scraper." If this record bore a later date; if its inser- tion in the Sui annals were due to an error of a century, then we might believe that Chinese travellers found an accidental case of woman's rule, following the introduction of Indian and Chinese learning and art ; and that an obsequious chronicler exaggerated the role of some transient female royalty, out of compliment to the great Empress Woo How, or her domineering daughter-in-law, who, between them, governed China for almost the whole of the century 650-750 A.D. Sketch of Tibetan History 189 arts, it seems the mother of virtues. Buddhism, powerful for a time in the land of its birth, was powerless to uplift the old Ganges valley, full of fixed tradition, sacred literature and established arts. So, in the great middle plains of China, it became but a quiet partner with Confucianism to steady, not to revolutionise the spirits of a race which had already lived and died and written and built and sowed and reaped through the centuries. But in the newly colonise^ Ceylon, in Burmah, in rough Weste China, in lost Tibethere it became a passion, propelling force, formative of societies in their pliant youth. Assuming merely a substance of human nature, in the way of rough mountain-men, grazing their flocks and tilling their difficult, terraced fields, we view this force with its powerful adjunct force, knowledge of the arts, acting to produce what may be taken almost as the birth of a people. In these cases the creed, which immediately has its votaries organised as such, thus obtaining interested spokes- men, is proclaimed as the sole flame of inspiration; yet, truly, it may often be seen that the spirit of wild men cannot accept peace doctrines ; they burn with zeal for the personality involved in the creed, their intellects are tremendously stimulated by the excitement of "conversion," and, above all, by the mental food contained in the newly acquired arts ; but the inconsiderate selfishness of youth is still in their hearts. Hence they may be seen Goths in Europe, Tibetans in Asia, crying out the names of the two great Compassionate Ones, Christ and Buddha, while they rush to battle, while they split the heads of children, while in blood they cement 190 Tibet and Turkestan the foundations of new states, and vigorously work out their savage young strength to a maturity which still declares the sacred name, and still lives the racial, violent law, whatever it may be; never, in the strong, young races, more than parroting the words of abnegation which the Teachers spoke. Parallel to the violences which made Europe as it is, we see, almost immediately after the advent of Buddhism, arithmetic and letters, an expansion of the national Tibetan spirit. Here as elsewhere it began translating itself when possible into conquest. The outward movement is less marked here than in other lands under like conditions of excitement, because the physical restrictions are more unyield- ing. Yet something was done. First Lhasa was established, then the far ^vest the Ladak country was subdued ; then some of the still independent Kiang tribes were assimilated ; then followed de- scents upon Turkestan to the north and overrun- ning of Nepal to the south. Temerity went even so far as to beat in the back door of China. But this brought retribution upon the over - active youngster an army marched to Lhasa and burnt his palace about the year 700 A.D. In a sudden volte-face from external (unsuccessful) activity, a pious monarch dreamed the dream of equality for all but himself. Riches were equalised fields all remeasured, animals all recounted, that Smith and Jones might stand before heaven and the king in equality of worldly privilege. Ere he died, the third effort at maintaining dull or lazy Smith in possession of his wealth against intelligent or laborious Jones had failed. That it should have I a, 03 U Sketch of Tibetan History 191 been attempted bespeaks a powerful central force. Such tyranny rarely exists save as the outgrowth of a theocratic tendency. This may take the form of a concession of earthly power to a religious teacher, as in the case of the Pope or the Dalai Lama ; or, by reversal, the ascription of religious character to the earthly ruler, as in the case of the Roman tyrants, the Russian Czar, and the Turkish Sultan; or, lastly, the yielding to an organised priesthood of that general power which superior intelligence can gain, and can easily gain, when playing upon the superstitions of the ignorant. It may well be sur- mised that the lamas, corresponding to the priests and monks of our Dark Ages, were then, as now, almost the only writers in the land ; and when a peo- ple, not given to industry as in the modern world, cease for a time to fight, then the " clerks," the cleri- cals, the "learned," will soon control the king and the people, who yield much to the combination of crown and book. The impractical levelling effort of Munibtsan-po may be taken as an indication of clerical influence at its best, when it is still aiming at high moral ideals, and has not yet grasped the sceptre, or even begun systematically to struggle for it. That follows. Meanwhile, another encounter with China took place, noticeable because the peace-treaty ending the bloodshed (821 A.D.) is still in existence, on bi- lingual tablets preserved at Lhasa. They are, per- haps, the earliest indubitable historic monuments of the country, significant of its greatness, important also to the philologist. It is recorded that shortly after this event the reigning king instituted a 1 92 Tibet and Turkestan persecution of Buddhism ; a remarkable statement when measured by the fact that for a long time all his predecessors are said to have shown more or less zeal for the Faith. One may well question whether this may not be the monkish way of stating that the king was not friendly to them. Our European records are full of such solecisms : "Religion" and "the Church" are, among Catholics, systematically con- nected, and even a Catholic king, engaged in curb- ing merely the excesses of the "Church," may appear, in clerical records, as an oppressor of re- ligion. However it may be, the objectionable king was soon assassinated, and disorder followed for a weary period covering generations of his successors. Two rival thrones first divided the country east and west ; then thrones were multiplied as sons were begot. While the temporal power waned, the spiritual waxed. About the year 1040 A.D. (the pre- ceding two centuries presenting only a confusion of kingdoms, now divided, now reunited) a great Buddhist teacher, Atesha, was invited into the coun- try by one of the Western kings. He attained much esteem throughout the country, reformed the calen- dar, and by his wisdom undoubtedly increased popu- lar respect for the priesthood. Another two-century period rolls over the country, which is still broken into fragments ; Kublai Khan, one of the greatest of the Mongol emperors, is on China's throne. His forces make their victorious way across the eastern frontier of Tibet, subjecting portions of the national territory. The rest may not have been thought worthy of sacking. Some sort of overlordship seems to have been recognised Sketch of Tibetan History 193 in him ; for a lama, from the Sakya monastery, was invited to the Court of the great Khan, where Mon- gol religious indifference made a place and a cere- monial for every respectable creed. Phagspa Lodoi Gyaltshan, the favoured lama, would scarcely have gone to him who had just ravaged part of Tibet, had not the Eastern Tibetan king already bent to the majesty of the ruler, who in that part of the world seemed universal. That the temporal power was at ebb tide is evident from the fact that the mere fiat of the distant Khan seems to have been suffi- cient to place Phagspa as ruler over all the Eastern country. This seems to have been the formal beginning (1270 A.D.) of the system of lama rule under Chinese suzerainty, which, with some interruption, has con- tinued until the present day. Rivalries have existed between monasteries, as in other countries between contending royal families ; and when these rivalries became acute, and too much energy was expended in monkish intrigue, occasion offered for the uprising of some lay nobleman, or the special exertion of the recognised authority of the Son of heaven, or of some temporarily powerful chief of the Mongol peoples west of China proper and north of Tibet. Not until the eighteenth century was there disturb- ance from the south, nor from Turkestan on the north ; save that Ladak, so distant from the central provinces, was overrun in 1531 A.D. by a Moham- medan ruler coming up from Kashgar, and again, about 1610 A.D., by the Balti tribes to the west of Tibet, and who have continued their annoying raids against caravans up to our own day. A temporal iQ4 Tibet and Turkestan ruler, Phagmodu, about 1350 A.D., succeeded in tak- ing away the strictly lay power from the monks, and his dynasty was recognised by the Imperial Court at Pekin, but by the middle of the fifteenth century his course seems to have been run. In- deed, while his family were yet on the throne, there were several great monasteries exercising independ- ent lordship over the properties belonging to them, independent except as they were subject to the over- lord in Pekin. As against the royal authority in Tibet, they constituted a true imperium in imperio. Monastic orders were constantly recruiting from the body of the people, hence their organisation was not subject to the deterioration of luxury which saps every royal family, determines dynastic changes, and would overthrow monarchy itself were its prin- ciples not so important to certain societies that in- stinctively there develops a ruling aristocracy or family or class which yet declares itself as acting only in the name of royal decoy awaiting a resur- rection of kingly merit, or a revolution. It is worthy of remark that Phagmodu, the founder of the kingly power just mentioned, was in the maxi- mum of his activity when the great Mongol dynasty, founded by Jenghiz Khan, was in the agonies of dissolution, its last representative (1333-1368 A.D.), Shun-te, presenting the perfect type of the royal scion debauched by inherited power and luxury. The Ming dynasty, of true Chinese blood, flour- ished and weakened, falling before the present Manchu rulers in 1644 A.D. The affairs of Tibet, as to governmental authority, were much compli- cated during all of this period. Religious considera- Sketch of Tibetan History 195 tion for the great lamas was, however, spreading, and as early as 1475 the head of the Galdan Monas- tery (near Lhasa) seems to have been able to rule nearly the whole country, but his authority in civil matters was exercised through a regent, called variously Depa or Jaypa; and this method of com- promising, with the theory that an incarnation should have no concern with things earthly, has been followed ever since. So wide was the reputa- tion for sanctity of the Tibetan Incarnations that rude tribes of the Far North bent to their authority, in spiritual matters, while brooking on earth no for- eign sway which could not write its title in blood. One of the great Tartar chiefs, Altan, desirous of knowing more intimately the sacred teachings, and perhaps thinking to add lustre to his savage Court, secured a lama of special power and veneration to visit him. This was in 1576, and this lama, Sodman Gynatso, seems to have been the first to bear spe- cifically the title of Dalai (Great), which now distin- guishes the ruler of Tibet. This establishment of a body of spiritual followers of Lamaism in distant territory was soon followed by important conse- quences, and is to-day the source of a current of events which promises to radically change the politi- cal orientation of the country. Feeling that their conversion gave them a proper interest in the con- duct of pontifical affairs, the Mongols came down about the year 1644 A.D. to intervene in the troubled affairs of the land, which was that of their newly adopted shrines. A powerful lama of the time, un- appreciative of their burning zeal, bought their departure with a price. This the Mongol leader 196 Tibet and Turkestan accepted as tribute money, with the dream that he might be recognised as suzerain instead of the Chinese throne, which was just then being emptied of one dynasty (Ming) to be filled by another (now reigning). As soon as the wily lama saw the backs of the Mongols, and knew that a firm command of China was now practically in the hands of the Manchus, he sent to the new sovereign of that mighty empire, asking intervention on his part. This seems to have angered Yuchi Khan, son of the Mongol prince who had so recently been the patron of the land ; or it gave occasion to some rival monastery unfriendly to the Chinese party. From whatever cause, Yuchi Khan swept down upon Tibet, upset a number of princelets and recalcitrant monks, and established the Dalai Lama of that date (1645) as supreme ruler. Neither these Mongols nor their Manchu succes- sors, attempted to take in hand the direct and de- tailed control of Tibetan administration; but the Ambans, delegates-resident of China, must be con- sulted in the selection of all important officials. And even the divinely guided choice, by the head monks, of the Dalai Lama is not effective until ap- proved in Pekin. Something of this worldly aid to inspired action has been seen in the election of more than one Roman pontiff of modern date, while in the past he who wore the crown of the Holy Roman Empire boldly claimed and exercised a right of approval, entirely analogous to that possessed by the Chinese Emperor in respect to the Dalai Lama. The patronage of art by corrupt churchmen, the building by them of great monuments which became Sketch of Tibetan History 197 the pride of their most pious successors, this also is familiar reading in Catholic history, and had its counterpart at Lhasa about the beginning of the eighteenth century, when the Potala (Vatican and St. Peter's combined) and other notable buildings were beautified and enlarged. The occasional pro- minence of the pontifical "nephew" was also then illustrated in the person of Sangji Gyamtso, putative natural son of that celibate, the Dalai Lama, who had founded the Potala. How familiar is this figure in royal and pontifical European records! Talented, ambitious, unscrupu- lous, accomplished, the scandal and the pride of a Court and nation, this Sangji Gyamtso ruled as regent for many years. The death of his patron was for a long time cleverly concealed, and, even when announced, Gyamtso was able to give a satis- factory explanation of his duplicity. The troublous Mongol interventions gave reasons of state ; he re- tained his influence and, when a new Incarnation was to be discovered, was able to direct the direct- ing spirits toward a dissolute youth, upon whom he had evidently lavished his destructive care since the date of the concealed death, nearly sixteen years before. The Jesuit, Father Desideri, who was in Lhasa from 1716 to 1721, witnessed the last efforts of the Mongols from the north (this time from Dzungaria) to control Tibetan polity. The definite triumph of Chinese arms occurred in 1720, when Lhasa was taken from the foreign troops and the native faction which supported them. This European observer, who doubtless thought of the invariable pillage and 198 Tibet and Turkestan rapine which were implied in the taking of Christian cities by Christian armies at that time, records his admiration for the order and restraint of the Chinese soldiery. 1 After two generations of quiet in Tibet, the prow- ess of the Celestial soldier was again illustrated in the campaign against the Goorkhas. These fight- ing men, now so highly prized by the British, had come up from the Rajput country, driven by the Moslems, and had overrun the Nepal country about 1768, there subduing the native Buddhist state, composed of tribes not unlike the Tibetans, and in religion holding much in common with them. Suc- cess makes boldness. From newly conquered seats the restless warriors climbed the passes through which the jealous Himalayas permit a difficult entry to their uplifted court. From this quarter the by- gone years had brought no dangers to the lama peo- ple, whose unguarded peace was now wounded by the sudden rush of furious Goorkhas, trained to war. A cry for help was sent to the "Elder Brother"; weary days of waiting passed, rilled with bloody deeds of the advancing foe. But, what with the resistance offered by men fighting for their homes, 1 In view of the contempt in which Europeans generally hold the warriors of China, their exploits in overcoming Mongol braves of the kind who marched across Europe in our early centuries, are worthy of study. It is probable that investigation would discover the recruiting grounds to be of rather limited area and of compara- tively rude culture ; but the Empire has shown itself to be so fruit- ful in soldiery for Central Asian conquest, that, discounting as we may the military value of the swarming millions of the valleys, we must not assume that a mechanically wise China shall not be a redoubtable war power. Happily its people are lovers of peace. Sketch of Tibetan History 199 what with the rigours with which Nature makes a bulwark for these, her little-favoured children, the Goorkhas were not able to widely conquer an unwar- like land ere an army and its leaders came from the east. Then the doughty invaders met their match ; they were forced to an inglorious peace ; and until a very late date, perhaps even now, the Raja sends an embassy with tribute to far Pekin, remembering 1792. CHAPTER XVI A CENTURY OF IRRITATIONS THE FUMES OF THE OPIUM WAR CLOUD THE POLITICAL SKY FATHERS HUC AND GABET SO vigorous was this Chinese campaign that a treaty of peace had been signed ere the appeal of the Goorkhas to British power at Calcutta could be answered. The East India Company was ready to respond, but Colonel Kirkpatrick, sent by Lord Cornwallis, arrived too late to enter into a bloody contention, which, if thus complicated, might have altered Tibetan history. His visit accomplished little, except to sow in the minds of the Chinese that distrust of the British which they have had so many occasions to justify, and which properly ex- tends to all European military nations. It is pleasant to turn from the contemplation of a possible unprovoked British attack (which was postponed for more than a century) and read of the friendly relations which existed between Tibet and the Company, under Hastings, the great prede- cessor of Cornwallis, as Governor-General. Bhutan, east of Nepal, its people and institutions much re- sembling those of Tibet, had given offence by way of some violence against territory claimed to be under British protection. The Bhutanese were duly punished, and when measures of special rigour were 200 A Century of Irritations 201 about to be enforced, there came a letter from the Teshoo lama, co-partner with the Dalai Lama in saintliness, and, like him, an Incarnation. At that time he seemed also to have had a certain jurisdic- tion or suzerainty over the Bhutan country. The letter is addressed to Hastings, grants that the mis- chief was probably chargeable against the Bhutan- ese, recites the punishment already inflicted, then, setting forth his mission as one of intercession for all mankind, and his special concern for the poor mountain people, he, as an intermediary whose office, religious and temporal, warrants interference, presents his plea for mercy. The tone of the letter and the representations made by the legate who de- livered it were so marked by fairness and dignity that a just cause was quickly won. Mr. Bogle was first sent into Tibet representing Hastings. He became very fond of the Teshoo lama and has left a pleasing report of his relations with the people, who had not then learned to fear his kind. The presents sent to Hastings, following universal custom in the East, made as much impres- sion on the Englishman as did the pleadings for the weak. "Perhaps there are trade opportunities in a country whose chief is so enlightened and so (appar- ently) rich," thought he who ruled for a trading company. Other correspondence followed, and finally a second mission to Tibet, consisting of Captain Tur- ner and a medical officer with a small escort, bearing gifts and assurances of friendship. Turner has left one of the most interesting records that have come down to us from the early travellers, who were so 202 Tibet and Turkestan freely admitted to Tibet at that time. Nothing could have been pleasanter than the reception given to Turner by the regent who acted for the Teshoo lama, a babe of eighteen months, successor to him who had begun the correspondence with Hastings, and who had warmly received Bogle. One who writes of Tibet now is tempted to make large borrowings from the cheerful text which Turner gives us. His busi- ness did not call him to Lhasa, and it is stated, more- over, that the Chinese, even then, interposed some objection to his progress thither. Whatever may have been the causes, neither he nor Bogle reached the sacred city. The Teshoo lama has his seat to the westward of the capital, and here Turner saw much and intimately of Tibetan life, which he de- scribed with critical but sympathetic observation. It will be but the beginning of justice to quote from this Englishman, for comparison with present-day representations, the following words: "The Tibet- ans are a very humane, kind people," and again: "Humanity and an unartificial gentleness of disposi- tion are the constant inheritance of a Tibetan." The Nepal war ended, there followed years of peace for Central and Eastern Tibet. But another attack from India had to be repelled in 1846, and again the enemy was an ally of the British. There is no evidence that the attack of the Goorkhas in 1791 was incited by the English, for the Goorkhas were then bound to Calcutta only through a com- mercial treaty. Nor can it be said that the attack of the Jammu-Kashmir army upon Ladak and sub- 1 Even the semi-official Times correspondent with the recent expe- dition finds a good word for the peasants. See Appendix P. C/2 A Century of Irritations 203 sequently upon Rudok (1846) was known to English officials until after it was made. But the Chinese may well have learned that the Jammu Maharajah, once a great Sikh leader and enemy of the British, was now their ally, and it might fairly be supposed that he would not attack Tibetan territory unless he had the tacit approval of his suzerain. The rape of Ladak was scarcely resisted ; possibly the extra- ordinary difficulties of the march from Lhasa, to- gether with the delay involved in getting leaders and some troops from China proper, had rendered im- possible any effective opposition. But now a fur- ther thrust of the Dogra troops, who ventured from newly acquired Ladak just as the Goorkhas had come out from Nepal, roused the distant giant. An army, partly Chinese, partly Tibetan, crossed the vast and desolate country which separates Western Tibet from Lhasa. The intruders were forced back, "keeping Ladak, it is true; but again we admiringly find the majesty of the Elder Brother recognised by the periodic pre- sents sent from the Maharajah of Kashmir to the Emperor who reigns so far away, across so many leagues of upheaved and pathless wilderness, in memory of 1846. This date is of special importance in the history of European relations with Tibet. In this same year of the Ladak war, Father Hue entered Lhasa, was kindly received by the Tibetan authorities, and after a stay of a few months was required by the Chinese authority in Lhasa to leave, reasonable provision being made for his transportation to, and through, China. No other Europeans entered Lhasa 204 Tibet and Turkestan or its immediate neighbourhood until the year of our Lord 1904, when a British-led force of Indian troops shot their way over defenceless villages to a distracted capital. The expulsion of Father Hue was not an isolated episode in the history of an isolated country. It grew out of one of the blackest crimes with which our civilisation is chargeable. Will it not be suffi- cient to say that the Chinese official who chanced to be then at Lhasa was Ke-Shen, a man who had, as signer, under duress, of a treaty at Canton in 1841, terminated the opium war and had thus par- ticipated in his country's humiliation, as well as in the disgrace of his country's enemy England more shameful in success than China in defeat? For fifty years the Pekin Government had endeavoured to arrest the fatal traffic. Insignificant when the Mogul emperors ruled India, it had grown with the growth of British power. Declared illicit, it had flourished in British hands; from British ships as depots it defied Chinese authority in Chinese ports. When, for a season, righteousness had prevailed; when a Christian English officer had yielded up twenty thousand smuggled poison-cases to be de- stroyed; when they had been burned by " heathen" Chinese officers, zealous to protect their country from a curse, then a Christian Government declared war and forced by cannon's might a helpless people to admit the baneful drug. And, even if not bane- ful, even if it were ambrosia, what shame to override but why argue this cause ntfaste ? Let it not be rehearsed, for all have heard it, and let it not be forgotten in judging all Chinese- European history A Century of Irritations 205 which followed. For in the sequestered valleys of Tibet the echo of British cannon was heard, a tocsin arousing every dormant suspicion against the white man. Nor ask these startled people to narrowly dis- tinguish between French and English and German. Do not we, pride-blind in our wisdom, fill books with level criticism of "Asiatics," mingling civilisa- tions and barbarisms, plainsman and mountaineer, Mohammedan and Buddhist, Mongol and Aryan, in one foolish mummery of insulting classification? So it was that Ke-Shen wiser than the kindly Tibetans, knowing better than they the fearful power of the white man, remembering Nepal, re- membering Rudok, burning with shame for Canton inflexibly demanded that the French missionary should go. "Fear the Greeks, bearing gifts." Like so many of his predecessors, Father Hue seemed indeed he was an humble, devoted evangel, seeking not the glory of France, or of Europe, but of Christ. Yet he was Europe; he will, in spite of himself, spy out the land; he will spread knowledge of it through the peoples to whom his body and his mind belonged, and, even if he be only a lama (who knows in Lhasa what he really is?), his story will excite the gold-lust, the power-lust of the restless, the irresistible; of the people who ride on the waters with fire, and who seize the uttermost parts of the earth with hands that run with blood. The obvious co-operation in later years between Chinese and Tibetans in enforcing a determined policy of exclusion against all foreigners, Asiatic as 206 Tibet and Turkestan well as European, has caused some thoughtless writers to question the good faith or acumen of Father Hue and earlier travellers who attest the friendliness of the Tibetans as contrasted with the rigidity of their Chinese advisers. The explanation is not far to seek. China, being more exposed, first felt the shock of European aggression. Since the time of Father Hue, the Tibetans have learned from happenings on their western and southern frontier something of the danger to native states which arises from the smallest opening left to the coming-in either of the European or of his subject native races. Bhutan, Sikkim, and Nepal, rough mountain states on Tibet's northern border, have been forced to admit British residents at their capitals. How far-extended might be the influence thus gained no one, except the principals, could at any time know. That their neighbours would have preferred com- plete independence was, of course, a fair presump- tion for the Tibetans. But whether the ruler of either, at any particular time, was or was not, through bribery or fear, ready to lend his power to the ever-growing British-Indian Empire, could only be surmised. The Goorkhas, masters in Nepal, were not related to the Tibetans by blood or religion, and were thus the more readily suspected. When, in 1854, Tibet was again attacked by the Goorkha-Nepalese, who hoped for better luck than had been met in 1792, the Chinese and the Tibetans might well suppose that their neighbours were receiving aid and comfort from the "protecting" power, which particularly watches over the foreign relations of its charges. A Century of Irritations 207 This war resulted more happily for the attacking party than the earlier effort probably because the Taiping rebellion interfered with the normal action of the Chinese Government. When the Tibetans were forced to make concessions of territory, they may well have deplored the increasing strength near their borders of that great power which had humili- ated their Elder Brother a few years before, and which seemed to be supporting their younger, im- pulsive brother in his assault against their kingdom of snow. Following fast upon this came the Anglo- French war against China, terminated by a humiliat- ing treaty, something of which would be known in Tibet. While China is still suffering from the effect of this blow, and by a chance which to the Tibetans might almost seem calculation, the British force a closer protectorate over Sikkim, following upon a quarrel between the Sikkimites and the Nepalese, already protected. The ruling family in the little mountain state had for centuries been of the Tibetan nobility and had recognised a sort of Tibetan suzer- ainty. Then, again, in 1863, an occurrence at their very door must have further frightened these secluded people. Bhutan had admitted, years before, a Brit- ish Resident ; otherwise its ruler tried to keep white men out. When some contentions arose between the Bhutan authority and neighbouring states more directly controlled by Calcutta, an envoy was sent to arrange the quarrel. To the discomfiture of those who sent him, this officer made a treaty by which most of the claims of Bhutan were recognised and certain territory was handed back to it. This is not 208 Tibet and Turkestan customary when the lion is negotiating with the lamb. The agent claimed duress and the treaty was disallowed by the Governor-General, who then resorted to the more familiar and convincing argu- ments applicable to such cases. An army was sent in, and of course modern rifles always enforce justice against matchlocks. Bhutan was taught that an envoy could be overridden in Calcutta and that the " prestige" of Great Britain demands that the arguments of its representatives shall always prevail. I think the doctrine true. It often applied to dealings between the United States and various Indian tribes, but the prestige in ques- tion is one for power not always for justice, as understood between individuals. It cannot be sup- posed that the lesson of such an incident would be lost upon the Tibetans, whose relations with the Nepalese, Sikkimites, and Bhutanese have imme- morially been closer than with any other peoples save the Chinese. Followed next ( 1 865 et seq.} many internal troubles, rising to the dignity of revolution. This serious dis- turbance throve while China was herself rent by the Taiping rebellion, which, in turn, was itself caused (in large part) by popular wrath against a dynasty that had failed to repel the aggressive European. It was about this time that the Abb Desgodins, French missionary, was forced to abandon an at- tempt to maintain mission work in Tibet. He has left a most uncharitable series of letters to immor- talise his disappointment. He denies the pleasant description of the Tibetans given by Hue, who calls them "frank and loyal," and is hard pressed to find A Century of Irritations 209 enough ugly words for the making of his own de- scription. Being much piqued by his failure, and being quite without the historic sense, our good Desgodins falls to exaggeration. The true Tibetan will perhaps be found somewhere between the pane- gyrics of Turner and Hue on the one hand and the maledictions of Desgodins on the other. The grum- bling missionary scarce tasted the crumbs of a hos- pitality which had once provided full loaves. Perhaps if the Tibetans could read Le Tibet d ' apres la correspondance des Missionaires y they might confess to present incivility, while pointing back through the years to show how they had treated the European before their hearts were filled with dread of him. They had received occasional Europeans since Odoric de Pordenone traversed Tibet on a westward journey from China in the fourteenth century. In the seveiateenth century two adventurers have left trace of wanderings in this far land. In the eighteenth century various Capuchin and Jesuit missions in one case numbering twelve persons were lodged almost continuously in Lhasa from 1708 to 1754; and a Dutch lay traveller lived there during part of the same period. In 181 1, Manning, sole Englishman to make peaceful entry, dwelt in Lhasa, enjoying the kindness of the lamas, great and small. Next came Fathers Hue and Gabet, last of Europeans in Lhasa until the gates were yesterday opened to the sound of the insistec 4 " ^ifle a sound which has scarce ceased to startle ft* Hindustani plains or the Himalayan valleys since the field of Plassy (1757) became an empire's birth-place. 210 Tibet and Turkestan This it is that affrights them, this ever-advancing boom of cannon, rattle of musketry. They have cherished a tradition that the snow-gods inhabiting the colossal seats of their southern border would protect them, against all enemies coming up from that region : but the Goorkha and Kashmir invasions brought a doubt, and now they know that there is a people mightier than their ancestral gods, mighty to conquer, and mighty, we shall hope, to rule wisely and justly. It has been increasingly clear to the Tibetans and to their suzerains, that only complete exclusion of Europeans would effectively preserve the status quo. It was also clear that their watch- fulness and rigour might be specially directed toward the southern frontier (British Darjeeling being only twelve marches from Lhasa) rather than toward the north where interminable deserts stretched their rampart of desolation. They had seen Nepal, Sikkim, Bhutan, and Ladak, constituting the whole of their southern and western frontier, pass under British "protec- tion," and recently, in 1888, they had seen Sikkim, a little territory (2600 square miles) wedged in be- tween Bhutan and Nepal, fall into a much more direct control of the invaders. Vainly had they protested against this last approach for Sikkim was in a sense Tibetan territory, interposing only a two- days sharp march between Darjeeling and their now recognised boundaries. Protest took the form indeed of an army, a monkish rabble armed with spears, matchlocks or bows, and which wisely fled before the organised destruction of British cannon. Then must the Tibetans have felt that they were A Century of Irritations 211 justified three years before (1885) in resisting the approach of the "Commercial Mission," the organi- sation and disruption of which, at Darjeeling, caused so much newspaper disturbance and balked so many ambitions that have been bequeathed to the more fortunate personnel of the Younghusband expedi- tion. As early as 1876, in the Chefoo convention with China, a treaty basis was laid for a "commer- cial mission" to Tibet, the date of the intended expedition being indicated as "next year." But this convention was not fully ratified until 1885, the clause referring to the establishment of Tibetan relations sleeping more soundly, perhaps, than any other. When diplomatic delays had ended, and the signa- ture of Chinese officials had been subscribed to an engagement in respect to passports and a general smoothing of the way for British intercourse with Tibet, there was a gathering of men and things at Darjeeling. The men were three hundred in num- ber, but among all the three hundred, not a commer- cial agent. Was it British humour which Parliament, the Chinese Minister, and the Tsung-li-Yamen at Pekin heard, when the Under-Secretary of State for India, referring to the leashed warriors at Dar- jeeling, said: "The object was to confer with the Chinese Commissioner (the Amban at Lhasa) and the Lhasa government as to the resumption of com- mercial relations between India and Tibet," and he adds, does this saturnine Under-Secretary, "look- ing to the delicate nature of the mission it had not been thought wise to appoint a special commercial representative. ' ' 212 Tibet and Turkestan The grape-vine telegraph had long ago reported to Lhasa the strange composition of the innocent commercial mission, which was intended, by the Chinese suzerains who had permitted it, only to discuss details of trade relations of those relations which had been suspended since the Goorkhas, friends of the British, had shown that conquest, not trade, was uppermost in their minds. Already the Lhasa authorities had felt a reasonable fright the Under-Secretary's frankness was scarce needed to put them on guard. So great was the resistence in Tibet to the incoming of such a monstrous miscel- lany of people, without a special commercial repre- sentative, that it was thought best to abandon the project. The mission was disbanded. Its oganisa- tion was a blunder. To disband it without making a manly statement of the original error was another blunder. In 1886 a new convention with China reflected the check by insertion of a clause which released China from any positive engagement to give Tibetan passports and relegated the whole matter to the limbo of "China shall use her best endeavour," or such like empty generality. The armed attack upon Tibet's frontiers, in 1888, did not fail, we may well believe, to further convince the Tibetans that missions of all sorts must be kept out at all hazards. This seizure of Sikkim not only completed the white man's hold upon the southern crest line of the Himalayas, but it gave control of the easiest roadway over the mountains, down into the Chumbi valley. That the trap should be sprung in due course of time was obvious enough. Something A Century of Irritations 213 must arise which should again force that expansion of empire which English historians (and latterly American apologists also) virtuously deplore. The way was now prepared for the self-sacrificing ad- vance. It was, then, in a moment of fatal digres- sion from a traditional policy of non-intercourse, that the Dalai Lama, a few years ago, sent presents to the Czar, thus "offending" the British Govern- ment and giving Lord Curzon argument with which to partially satisfy the Exeter Hall conscience of his nation. We are now brought to a consideration of recent events. CHAPTER XVII CHASTENING OF HERBERT SPENCER BRITISH POLICY CONTEST FOR A BARE BONE- PRESENT POLITICAL SITUATION HERBERT SPENCER (Principles of Sociology, p. 584; D. A. & Co., 1897) delivers himself, rather intemperately, I think, as follows : " If, in our days, the name ' birds of prey and of pass- age,' which Burke gave to the English in India at the time of Warren Hasting's trial, when auditors wept at the account of the cruelties committed, is not applicable as it was then; yet the policy of unscrupulous aggran- disement continues. As remarked by an Indian officer, Deputy Surgeon-General Paske, all our conquests and annexations are made from base and selfish motives alone. Major Raverty, of the Bombay army, condemns ' the rage shown of late years for seizing what does not and never did belong to us, because the people happen to be weak and very poorly armed, while we are strong and provided with the most excellent weapons. ' Resist- ance to an intruding sportsman or a bullying explorer, or disobedience to a resident, or even refusal to furnish transport-coolies, serves as sufficient excuse for attack, conquest, and annexation. Everywhere the usual suc- cession runs thus: Missionaries, envoys to native rulers, concessions made by them, quarrels with them, invasions of them, appropriations of their territory. First men are 214 Chastening of Herbert Spencer 215 sent to teach the heathens Christianity, and then Christ- ians are sent to mow them down with machine-guns! So-called savages who, according to numerous travellers, behave well until they are ill-treated, are taught good conduct by the so-called civilised, who presently sub- jugate them who inculcate rectitude and then illustrate it by seizing their lands. "The policy is simple and uniform Bibles first, bomb- shells after. Such being the doings abroad, what are the feelings at home? Honours, titles, emoluments are showered on the aggressors. A traveller who makes light of men's lives is regarded as a hero and feted by the upper classes; while the lower classes give an ovation to a leader of fillibusters. ' British power, ' ' British pluck,' 'British interests,' are words on every tongue; but of justice there is no speech, no thought." Viewing the eminence of the authority just quoted, it may seem bold to endeavour a recast of the philosophical setting in which historical critic- ism should be placed. But Spencer's tone, in the paragraph above, seems rather that of an angry Isaiah than of a scholarly determinist. Let me therefore endeavour to clothe the nakedness of his condemnations while averring that the program outlined in the excerpt seems to have been closely followed in British Tibetan events. There is in the universe but one Will (or self- existent law). It has expressed itself to us in the hateful tempests of Nero's soul, not less than in the ineffable happiness of accomplished sacrifice on the cross ; in the fury of Attila, not less than in the wrapt ecstasy of Gautama under the Bo tree; in the turning of this leaf by you, O law-governed 2i6 Tibet and Turkestan reader, not less than in the sweep of a solar system through unmeasured space; in every evil, not less than in every good. Such is my belief. If then the British power, ruthless, shall complete its destruction and construction in Tibet, then this ruthless act shall have demonstrated its necessity in the general scheme of things. Why preach about it, then? I do not know why, the ultimate why. But this preaching is also compelled ; it is an effort toward something desired. As to the application of adjectives such as "unjust," "unwarranted," "cruel," "unnatural," and the like, to any act of individual or government, with the seeming intent to condemn, as one con- demns who believes in individual free-will; concern- ing this, it must be explained that the determinist finds his tongue taught certain tricks in childhood. He cannot easily lay them aside. Language has been formed chiefly by those who have been made to believe, among many other errors, that concern- ing the freedom of the will. The words "sunrise" and "unnatural" spring equally from erroneous belief, which it pleased the Power to create. The sun does not "rise" and nothing is "unnatural." When the determinist condemns and executes for murder, his position toward the murderer is this: "You have been brought to kill a man under such and such conditions. I have been brought to believe such an act as directly or indirectly harmful to me ; I have been brought to believe it now to my interest to kill you. We are both acting under law, no man or beast can act otherwise." Now if the determinist stands quite alone in his condemnation Chastening of Herbert Spencer 217 and execution of the other man, we call his act priv- ate revenge or justifiable homicide, etc. If he is acting with many others, through organised instru- ments, we call this united action, "public justice." The difference between condemnation made by him who thus recognises the universal force of one Power, from that made by him who thinks he believes in many wills, lies chiefly within the respective breasts of the critics. In the first case, there cannot exist anything of bitterness; in the second it may exist. Having thus by a little dis- cursive philosophising taken away the sting from my quarrel with British-Tibetan policy, lest the Government die of it, we may set ourselves to an inquiry into this most interesting and important question. As the brute power to execute its will against Tibet undoubtedly exists in the British Govern- ment, it is important to determine what are the motives actuating British policy. The question is not stated because of a conviction that national policies are always clearly conceived and systemati- cally followed by any government. Generally this is not the case; haphazard and awkwardness proba- bly play a larger part in the affairs of state than they do in the affairs of John Smith. Yet in the case we now consider, the territory in question lies so far beyond the world's general movement that the existence of any policy whatever, in its regard, would suggest that such a policy must have definite beginnings and direction. If we turn to the past to the spectacular days of Warren Hastings, we need not hesitate to interpret 218 Tibet and Turkestan his outreachings toward Tibet as being merely part of the luxurious growth of a marvellously rich mind, fertilised by ambition, heated by the sun of success. That something great might be found among the Himalayan summits, was enough to set his imagination aflame, and in his strong nature, action followed close the heels of fancy. We may safely vault from his day almost a hundred years of Indian history, before finding events which could seriously fix responsible minds upon the Tibetan problem. Within those years, and since France withdrew from the fields where her genius had blazed the way for England's power, that power had been extended over three classes of territories. First are the lowlands wide-spreading, populous, easily subdued, rich (relatively) in commercial op- portunity and in state-revenue payment. Here the motive for conquests is not far to seek; they were made by a commercial company. Next come the first tier of mountain states, difficult to conquer, more expensive to administer (relatively) and not in themselves rich in returns of any kind, save military glory in the first days of blood. They were dis- turbers of the border peace, and it seemed cheaper to subdue and rule them, than to forefend at the frontier. Last come the outpost countries of the Himalayan region, valueless as commercial fields, not dangerous to their equally valiant and better organised neighbours of the first tier of mountain states. The sole motive for their conquest lies in the fear of Russia, the power which, in Hastings's day, lay so far to the north that it was not within the range of "practical politics." 2 I Chastening of Herbert Spencer 219 Whether or not the Russians, by attacking India, would ever bring upon the world the most appalling calamity which could befall it as an outgrowth of present international jealousies, we may not know. That reasonable precaution should be taken even against this improbable atrocity, no responsible officer would doubt. But there has been wide difference of view among enlightened English states- men not all of them stay-at-homes either as to the wisdom of constantly advancing and lengthen- ing a frontier whose character is now frankly mili- tary. It has been strongly argued that strategical advantage lay in the way of leaving, upon an enemy the burden of approaching over long lines "which are among the most difficult known in the world. Even if the natives be more or less friendly to an advancing European army, yet the natural obstacles remain to wear away the force of the intended blow. "Let us meet such an onset," say the ad- vocates of this policy, "on a shorter front, drawn within countries which are self-supporting, and near to the great rich plains which are the only regions worthy, in themselves, of permanent occupation. Let us at least await the attempted seizure of the unprofitable border-lands by our northern rival ; let us await some clearer evidence of Russia's intent to dethrone us, before spending the treasure of our subject-races, their bodies, and some precious lives of our own people in the conquest of barren mountains. "If the attack is being prepared, it cannot be done in a day or a week or a month ; the sudden foray of the mountain wolves against the defenceless lamb 220 Tibet and Turkestan of the plain is no longer possible, for to the lamb also we have given fangs and his bloody claws. If we hold only the first tier of hill-lands, we shall be able to destroy any incoming foe, or even to ad- vance, meeting him. For are we not as intelligent, as quick as he? Are we not able, with a tithe of the money spent in conquest and occupation, to buy for ourselves information and interested loyalty loyalty of the only sort upon which we can count in playing our role of Foreign Tyranny?" But these arguments have not prevailed. Re- joinder has been made that in general it is best to hold the highest passes rather than to await the enemy somewhat lower down ; that his presence in the border lands, uncontrolled, might result in stir- ring up of revolt among the plainsmen, this being a possible program as full of danger as one of open war; that the valleys have, since time was, been conquered from the northern hills, until British ships and gunpowder opened a new way from the coast. Yet, now the northern danger may recur. There has been added to these arguments the prod of restless military spirit in the army of occupation. Very important is this ambition in making the character of a soldiery ; very dangerous also to the world's peace. For quarrel-making there has been the time-honoured question of boundary lines in rough country. Even with most pacific intent on both sides, there must be frequent misunderstand- ings as to frontiers in the wild, almost unknown regions of towering peak and winding ravine where is played the game of Himalayan politics. When on one side is the delicate pride of a conquering Chastening of Herbert Spencer 221 race, on the other the outraged sensibilities of war- like, ignorant tribes, it is obvious that a big crop of V.C. 's and D.S.O.'s must be the result. It is just a little pathetic, this thought that in the world of printed history, each such quarrel, with its attending tragedies, is reported as "an unwarranted attack upon British territory," or again "a maraud- ing expedition boldly projecting itself over our frontier." We shall never know how cruelly exas- perating it must be to the disinherited this seizure, on paper, of unmarked lands to-day, the outcry of injured sovereignty to-morrow, the hastening of the "punitive column" the third day, fresh seizure of unmarked lands the fourth day, and so on ad infinitum. The algebraic sum of all the soliciting forces has been in the direction of advance west, north, east ever advance. Baluchistan has been conquered and held ; Afghanistan has been marauded piteously in two campaigns emblazoned with death, heroism, and decorations, but the bold and crafty Afghans could not be subjected ; the Chitral and the empty Pamirs have been sentinelled; the uncouth Baltis have been punished and controlled ; pacific Ladak remains an outpost of empire, though in a Mahar- ajah's name; Nepal, Sikkim, and Bhutan have been forced to obey orders from Calcutta, and now, because a Bhuriat from far-away Lake Baikal has taken photographs in Lhasa and seduced the Dalai Lama into the courtesy of gift-making to the Czar, lo ! Tibet is visited with the hot breath of war and a thousand skeletons testify to the prowess of the white man ; to the glory of Christ and to the 222 Tibet and Turkestan satisfaction of the ghoulish dogs whose bellies are the tombs of Tibetan dead. It is harrowing. Yet after all, death is for all ; the cutting off of even ten thousand shepherds at an average of say fifteen years before disease and age would claim them, is not a large sacrifice for humanity to make in keeping an empire's peace. But the sacrifice would not end with the death- rattle in ten thousand throats. There would be, yea, to-day there is, and for many morrows there will be, bitterness in a million hearts. That is evil ; not measurable, but great. And there is, beyond all else, a wounding of ideals all the world over unless it be very clear to the world that some greater evil has been foref ended, or some great good established by the myriad rotting corpses, and that reasonable inquiry found no other protec- tion from the evil, no other instrument for the good than in the killing of many innocent men. That, indeed, is the crux of the matter. Given the possi- bility of Russian desire to attack the British-Indian establishment, we must question then the amount of harm that might reach English interests if Tibet had been left in her isolation. Two lines of effort would be considered by the Russians, if in any way Tibetan territory were to be used in the game. The first would be by military occupation, with the view of descending upon India from Tibet; and the second would be by stirring up, through intrigue, the Tibetans, in coalition with the Nepalese or Bhutanese, to strive unaided against the British power. To accomplish the first, Russia must have forced or cajoled the Chinese Chastening of Herbert Spencer 223 Government to give up two provinces, Turkestan and Tibet, since an advance (assuming it physic- ally possible to reach Lhasa with an army from the north) must be over Chinese territory. It is obvious that such an effort by Russia, in the face of known opposition in England and America against the disintegration of China, would be attempted only as part, and the last part, of some great program of an international war of the first magnitude. In such case no conduct of Russian affairs, short of one headquartered in an insane asylum, would squander upon the Tibetan plateau forces urgently needed elsewhere. So terrible are the obstacles placed there by nature, that the Chinese strength, small as it is, would be more than sufficient to stop an army moving toward Lhasa, from the difficult north, and would be, if friendly to Russia, wholly power- less as against British force, moving from the easy south. Those who were impressed, in a vague way, by the long delays of the Younghusband expedi- tion, with the view that the military operations were difficult, must yield that opinion to the facts. It was diplomacy, not strategy, which ate up the long months, which gave the Tibetans ample time to prepare a resistance doomed to be of the opera bouffe kind, and which aggravated greatly the problem of supplies for the British force. Imagine a single company of Cossacks, known or reasonably supposed to be actually on the plateau, and you may at once imagine Lhasa reached, conquered, and destroyed by the British within two weeks from the time a column should leave 224 Tibet and Turkestan Darjeeling. On the other hand, imagine Russian columns starting from Osh or Irkutsk, even with a suppliant court in Pekin, and you may imagine time for British agents to spread the news across desert and ocean, time for British concentration at Darjeel- ing, time for the sack of Lhasa, all before a rem- nant of the devoted Cossacks should have time to struggle into the valley of Tsang-po, asking but one boon of the British to be captured and fed. This enormous difference in the physical relations of Tibet toward the north and toward the south, is a vital fact in the consideration of the probable complications. That the view here expressed is not a peculiar one, appears from the familiar recitals of distress experienced by all the explorers, with their small and specially equipped caravans. As shown in one of the appendices, 1 it is moreover a view held by some distinguished and expert British authorities. But let us suppose the incredible to have been ac- complished ; that the supine Lion has permitted the outrageous Bear to hibernate in Lhasa's monas- teries, and that the whole world has definitely yielded the "Chinese integrity" policy, a supposi- tion which involves satisfaction of enormous appe- tites by a wholesale cutting up of the Chinese body, wrongly supposed to be a dead carcass. Russia can get no substantial benefit out of Tibetan occupation per se. She would find it ex- ceedingly difficult impossible, I think, to hold Lhasa against any Tibetan liberating effort. Rus- sian soldiers must be fed, and only constant physical pressure at the centre would bring in food from 1 See discussion of paper read before R. G. S., February 8, 1904. Chastening of Herbert Spencer 225 Tibetan fields. Substantially the whole force would be rendered impotent for offence by the requirements of the commissary department. So narrow is the present margin of food-supply, so impossible the import of food from the north, that every augmentation of numbers attempted by an occupying power would only increase the difficulty of maintenance. But let us further suppose the incredible. Imagine, then, a small band of surviving Russians, who shall have committed such frightful slaughter as to paralyse the faculties of the lamas, preventing them from offering even the Quaker resistance of the English nonconformist to irritating school-rates. Imagine some of them enrolled be- hind Russian leaders and newly learned in the art of firing Russian rifles. Now they must be pro- jected against, nay, through, Bhutan, Sikkim, or Nepal. In the nature of the case, the Europeans are but a handful, and the natives are but a rabble, and the ammunition-supply is small and the food- supply precarious. It would be wearisome to try, in these pages, the chances of every pass by which they might graze the crest of the Himalayas. I appeal for justification to every British officer in whose breast burns even a spark of the old flame, when I say that not a single man of such an invad- ing force would ever reach the soil of India proper. The Himalayas would swallow them ; the place of their graves need never be known save to the Brit- ish-led Sikhs and the Goorkhas who would have killed them. And if this be not true, then the emasculated Briton should render to Caesar the things that are Caesar's, for Caesar is ever enthroned 15 226 Tibet and Turkestan Strength. And it must be borne in mind that such a series of incredible events cannot be supposed to be isolated. Russia cannot issue from the Hima- layan passes except when war shall wrap the world around. And I say, if she should, the diversion of strength necessary to produce even the wretched tragedy in which her effort must end, would be a play for England's benefit ; worse than futile, as all madhouse work, in the end, must be, when in con- test with sane purpose. But let us now suppose that possession of Tibet (for nothing less than possession consists with the efficacy of Clause IX. of the Younghusband treaty) is deemed necessary as against mere intrigue by Russian agents. That it may be anything more than child's play, this intrigue must bear fruit of action, eventually of war or threat of war, against British power. To do this, its effects must leap the Himalayas, those great barriers which now are made higher than nature would have them, by the fears of the Tibetans. The, intrigue, then, must be ef- fective to reverse their policy of isolation against which the British complain ; it must cause the Goorkhas, now shut out from Tibet, to take up arms against the Indian Empire, in alliance with how ludicrous it all is! in alliance with the poor creatures whom the British word of command has just shot down as one would kill sheep in a crowded fold. And these who are to set the Goorkhas on fire are not of their creed or of their blood, nor of the creed or blood of any of the great races of India. By the adoption of a religion which India rejected, Tibet I Chastening of Herbert Spencer 227 has added a barrier of sentiment to one of stone and ice, rising between her wastes and the wide fields which England governs. The case is alto- gether different from that presented along the Afghan frontier, which has seen at least two great waves of conquest, moral and physical, rolling southward, and leaving, as permanent deposit, the richest strata of Indian life. Tibet, on the other hand, is like a distant shore that occasionally felt the last movement of a wave of thought or action, already spent as it reaches the Himalayan crest. To think of such a country as the lair of some great coiled danger ready to spring, is indeed to "see snakes." And to set in motion this second incredi- ble series of events we have now to substitute for the supposed directive force of Russian intelligence and arms, the mere promises, cajoleries, and decep- tions of Buriat spies, talking of their temporal to their spiritual master, and promising what? The only thing which can be conceived as appeal- ing to the Tibetan mind, would be protection against the aggression of the English. Yes, already enough had been done to fill the lamas with just fears, be- fore the presents were unhappily sent to the Czar, before the convincing blow came upon them in the summer of 1904. CHAPTER XVIII THE WOLF AND THE LAMB COMMERCIAL CONVENTIONS AND CHRIST'S CODE WHAT IS THE RIGHT ? THE argument of the play is, then, something like this : By a century of conquest stretching gradually up to the high door-sills of Tibet, by a century of aggression against the Tibetan suzerain, the British have closed the once open door of Lhasa, and have implanted a general fear of their presence in every Tibetan mind which is capable of understanding something of the outer world ; then comes a co-religionist who succeeds in having the Tibetan religious chief send presents to the ruler who is in temporal power over the visiting pilgrim. They are sent, obviously, because asked for by an interested intermediary. A similar mission might easily have been arranged by British influence acting upon some clever lamaist of Ladak, who could have tested the Dalai Lama's attitude by request- ing through the Chinese exchange of presents with his distant liege, King Edward, even as had been granted to the Buriat. But this was not done. And if these were not thought dependable, there are the Kashmiri merchants long established in Lhasa, giving Great Britain a far more permanent contact, through her intelligent subjects, than 228 The Wolf and the Lamb 229 Russia has through the Buriats and Kalmucks ; yet nothing of the sort was attempted after the Buriat incident. 1 Hence it is not known that the Dalai Lama would have in any way distinguished by an unequal courtesy the two European monarchs who hold sway over some of his spiritual following. No evidence, then, of favouritism toward Russia is adduced, nor has any evidence been found of material support from that power in the way of men or arms, even now that English officers have shot their unwelcome way into the sanctuary of a poor people. Nothing is reported but vague, one-sided statements that some Tibetans rely upon "another power" to protect them always, there is nothing but that and on shadowy evidence that the Tibetans have only listened to some one who might have given promise of aid in case of British attack lo ! that is made a reason, gravely alleged among adults, in State dispatches, for making the attack / a Truly we are all, au fond, only barbarians children ; for when this supreme example of wolfish displeasure with the down-stream lamb is held before us, let us not forget that it is given to the world by a people who, in a thousand ways, represent the highest work of Christian civilisation, whose individual officers, the very men engaged in the butchery of helpless beings fighting for their elementary rights, are cultivated, 1 The attempts at direct correspondence with the Dalai Lama, made through badly chosen agents, and not through the Chinese officials, are referred to in the Appendix J. The Dalai Lama had reason to fear the results of any intercourse not authorised by the Chinese, who retained control of all foreign relations. For a parallel case as between the British and one of their vassals, see Appendix E. 2 See Appendix L. 230 Tibet and Turkestan attractive, honourable in ail private intercourse; yet prostituting, as you and I may do to-morrow, the magic power of the telegraph and the printing- press for spreading abroad and perpetuating such crude nonsense as may be read by any one who takes even the blue-book side of the Tibetan story, beginning with the "Commercial Mission" of 1885 and ending with the "Negotiating Mission" of 1904. The first was a harmless fiasco, the second a tragedy, with possibilities of becoming a fiasco. It was organised to prevent Russian interference. Lord Curzon has not yet disclosed any reasonable ground for supposing Russia had endeavoured in Tibet any acts unfriendly to British-Indian interests. But he feared they might. This reason for the bold step is openly enough alleged in the correspondence. It was even more frankly admitted by every intelligent discussion of the subject, particularly in the admin- istrative columns of the London Times. For accur- acy's sake, however, it is well to record the other alleged motives, though if the historian, like the judge, may adopt as a maxim, de minimis non curat lex, then all the other incidents might be passed in silence. After the Tibetans had been forced back from the Sikkim frontier in 1888, it became prudent to have some precise demarcation of boundary lines, as nobody in London or Calcutta seems to have been prepared just then for forward movement, nor had any occasion been given which could be thrown to Little Englanders (i. e., those who declare for ethics of the individual in national affairs) as an excuse for following the extremist policy of empire-stretching. Therefore in 1890 a convention was drawn be- The Wolf and the Lamb 231 tween British officials on the one hand and a mixed commission of Chinese and Tibetans on the other. The meetings were held near the frontier line, as tentatively agreed upon. Provision was not spe- cifically made for erecting monuments along a line which, in the nature of the case, defied accurate description. 1 Recognition was had also of the fact that shepherds had from time immemorial wandered back and forth over all these imaginary frontiers, nor does it appear that trouble had arisen until arose the British insistence upon strict definition where definition is substantially impossible. Provision was also made, though this was opposed by the Tibetans, for the establishment of a mart, north of the frontier, to which Indian traders might have access, and in which the traffic was to be subjected only to limited burdens of tax. The Chinese officials finally consented to co- operate with British agents in erecting monuments. Several years of delay in this respect dragged on, and finally the monuments were set up by British officials acting alone. It was susbequently charged that some of these had been knocked down by Tibetans. As their location was determined only by their enemies, and as they were of no value save to give further occasion for offence in the heretofore careless movement of a few shepherds over a deso- late country, one may understand such a proceeding. We of course have no way of accurately learning the Tibetan view of any of these events. There was also charge of delay in making the necessary ar- rangements for the market-place at Yatung, though 1 See Appendix E. 232 Tibet and Turkestan little was needed, if the Indian traders chose to present themselves at a known spot in a desert and take chances of selling their goods. That those who do not want to buy your goods shall be forced to build your storehouses and your temporary dwelling-places and establish means of supplying you with food that is hard. Among people of nearly equal strength it would be called outrageous. The Tibetans were opposed to contact of any sort, as it is probable that through Chinese channels they already knew of the success of various disguised surveyors, in the service of Calcutta, who had pene- trated their country in many directions, even to Lhasa's self, and had carefully mapped its roads, mountains, and towns and rivers. Such maps are precious to the scientific geographer and to the thoughtful warrior. The difficulty of protecting themselves even by theoretical non- intercourse is great: they might well consider the task hopeless if various traders were to be admitted. Some of them would certainly be spies. The Chinese had as much reason to hesitate, in this special case, as the Tibetans. Loss of their suzerainty was to be con- templated as probable, and also loss of their tea- trade. A period of five years was fixed for the non-importation of tea from India, and other word- ing showed plainly enough that the day would come when the Tibetan market would be forced open. 1 This you may say is righteous; monopolies are generally bad. Free trade is good. That, too, is my belief. But there is something better than free 1 See Appendix, G. The Wolf and the Lamb 233 trade, and that is the right of a people to govern itself. Another tea episode more than a hundred years old stands out in English history, in its details dis- creditable to both parties, yet illustrating the fact that liberty is dearer than tea. It is not in the least probable that the effort by England to force Assam tea on Tibet will be followed by such consequences as those belonging to the more famous incident in Boston Harbour; for the Tibetans are weak. The parallel is of value only on the sentimental side, removed by many degrees from the field of practical empire-building. The Chinese doubtless make a profit out of the tea trade with Tibet, and doubtless the English or native tea growers in India would like to have this profit. As the matter stands, however, the Tibetans prefer Chinese tea to any other, and even pay more for it, in .Ladak, where Indian tea is easily obtainable, than the price of this latter. And even if they did not like it better, the vast danger of receiving any other is so great that they must be willing to sacrifice a nuance of taste for the very substance of political liberty. The Yankees, be it remembered, did not have even brick tea as a substitute. It is of no consequence all this commiseration of the poor Tibetans who are forced to take Chinese tea nay, it is of conse- quence, for it is hypocritical and mean. They do not want to trade with India. They are afraid to trade with India. They will be forced to trade with India. Of this treaty of 1890, as of a later convention in 1894, we may say, in charging the British policy as 234 Tibet and Turkestan the cause of all subsequent troubles, what Pym said of the Earl of Strafford, under impeachment: "If there were any necessity, it was of his own making; he, by his evil counsel, had brought the king into a necessity; and by no rules of justice can be allowed to gain this advantage by his own fault, as to make that a ground of justification which is a great part of his offence." The chain of events is an unbroken one treaties made under duress, slow fulfilment or misunder- standing of terms, further demands on the part of the aggressive power, allegations of petty wrongs that have obviously proceeded from the initial great wrong. Such allegations constitute the fringe hanging on the naked body of Tibetan offence; that naked body was the gift-sending to the Czar. As to why that was considered a wrong, we have already inquired. As to the propriety of dwelling but shortly on the contentions about a non-existent trade, JEsop wrote fables to serve in just such cases. We are hearing the wolf and the lamb engaging in a world-old conversation. The action follows, and we may now follow the action. When the South African war had been ended, when the chase of the Mad Mullah had ceased to demand great attention, when Japan had begun a brisk correspondence with Russia about Manchuria, the time seemed ripe for urging again an unwelcome trade upon the Tibetans who ask but one thing in all the world that they be let alone. A high com- missioner was appointed, his escort was gathered; just enough, he declared to the frightened Tibet- ans, for illustrating the dignity of his office; it 03 ffi J3 -w > H The Wolf and the Lamb 245 then our coursers may be stopped, but not other- wise. Whether or not complications in Western China will be viewed as seriously by others as by me, it yet may be taken for granted that the rape of Tibet will not be forgotten by the statesmen of interested nations when they gravely begin that general read- justment which must follow the close of the Russo- Japanese war. No incident as large as that just precipitated by Lord Curzon's fears and Colonel Younghusband's ambition can stand alone in the world's politics of to-day. It is probable that even if the main mise upon Tibet be permitted to be per- manent, Great Britain will somewhere else be re- quired to yield a quid pro quo out of proportion to the value gained in Tibet. I say out of proportion because I consider that value as nil or negative, and I mean the value to the average inhabkant of Great Britain and also to the average inhabitant of India. If Great Britian were a cooped-in nation, if her energetic sons found no open spaces in the world for stretching their legs and sharpening their wits, then perhaps the opportunity for even the few whom Tibet could support would be of general benefit. But the administration of present holdings by Gov- ernment, and the maintenance of a sharp commercial contest throughout the world, these two national activities create demands for men, for brains, which are not more than met. There is no surplus. Such work as England has so largely in hand requires high-grade men. The ordinary white man is not the typical sahib, yet in many corners of her sub- ject-world, it is only the sahib quality in her 246 Tibet and Turkestan representatives which makes possible the holding- down of many by one. Without it, there might be required almost as many Tommy Atkinses as there are natives to be held. That this sahib quality has been widely furnished, that it does wonderful work, I can stoutly testify. I can also testify that it is not wise to have one solitary sahib in Zeila, as was the case when I went thence into Africa. Only two were at Adis Abeba, one of these leaving with me. Only one at a frontier post near the eastern border of the Soudan. Only forty white men at Khartoum in June, 1900. (The smallness of this number was a surprise, even to those who counted noses at my suggestion.) One only, as related in these pages, at Kashgar ; and so in many a lost spot. Then suddenly, because the one man is overworked (as I saw at Zeila), there comes a war which might have been avoided had there been time to get into the hinter-land. There would be time to feel the country ahead of one, as I know had not been, could not be, done on the Abyssinia-Soudan frontier. Need one say anything further as to the fatal lack of good men before and during the great Boer war? Not every white man has the sahib quality. That is the important thing. So it is that the ever- growing demands of administration, and the ever- growing demands of a new competition in commerce, run almost beyond the output even of the mighty womb which has sent its sons to girdle the world. A conservation of the British Empire seems to me a matter of maximum importance to all the world. That it should be conserved, it must, I think, be conservative. The raid into Tibet I believe to have The Wolf and the Lamb 247 been wild, not capable of bearing good fruit. Its occupation is not necessary to the preservation of the Empire's peace; nor would it conduce to the Empire's prosperity. Any harm that could possibly come out of Tibet could be met, at the moment of its appearance, at less moral and material cost than by years of repression and injustice based on mere suspicion. The whole world must come under the British flag if the "maybes" which cost Tibet its independence were to be applied to the rest of us. CHAPTER XIX COUNSELS OF PERFECTION IF, then, the Younghusband raid seems to be what men call a crime, and what men call a blunder, what next? Let us suppose two possibilities: first, that in a reasonable time the treaty shall be rati- fied substantially as written. Then, in order that any effect be had, in order that things be not as they were before, there must be occupation by force sufficient to awe the Tibetans. The corresponding occupation of Turkestan by Russia, sooner or later, must be contemplated, and the probable series of complications already described in the excerpts from the North American Review. Second, suppose the treaty to be not ratified, but emasculated. The most difficult point may be the excision of the in- demnity clause, for it must be supposed that even in India, non-voting, non-represented India, her British rulers would hesitate to charge up an ac- count of ^"500,000 against Indian revenue, acknow- ledging its expenditure to have been unwise. Yet that would be the cheapest way out, I think, and, if necessary, London might help to bear this burden ; but that is a counsel of perfection. The perfectly honourable, perfectly Quixotic, and hence perfectly improbable course would be the following: Let it be frankly stated, "We believed you might be in con- spiracy to put yourselves in Russian leading-strings; 248 King's Palace and remarkable group of Chortens in Ladak Leh. Counsels of Perfection 249 we are willing that you should be independent. We find we were mistaken in regard to the Russians, hence we revert to the position always held (on paper) that we have no designs against you. As we were wrong in our suspicions we of course have no right to a war indemnity. Our claim in that respect is remitted. You desire to be isolated, and your desire should be a recognised right. We want peace of mind in the future concerning the possible intrigues of our great rival. "As a fair compromise, representing less than our force might demand, we, acknowledging our initial error, now propose that a British agent be stationed in Lhasa, without any authority, since there are to be no relations except those you may desire, but merely as an observer, a visitor, whom, knowing, you shall learn to like and to trust. The trade- privileges extorted from you, and considered dan- gerous by you, will be abandoned. If gradually, by reason of our agent's representations, you come to a different opinion as to us, we shall be glad to strengthen our relations in all friendly ways. We want your friendship. Our God and your great Incarnation, the ineffable Buddha, are both reported to have urged men to love each other. We may not be able to live, as our Master advised, a life of non-resistance ; we may not be able to do good to those that despitefully use us; but we think our- selves capable henceforth of being good to you if you are good to us, i. e., if you have no conspiracy by which Russian influence shall become dominant in Lhasa, whatever that may mean." Now, gentle reader, you may imagine how 250 Tibet and Turkestan impertinent this suggestion would seem to Lord Curzon, or to any of the gentlemen around him who take themselves and the world so seriously and make it so tragic. The outsider venturing to criticise is most likely to be ignored ; as a matter of fact he is often not supplied with sufficient data for wise criti- cism. Did I not believe the affair in Tibet to be one in which only the admitted facts need be con- sidered, I should feel that the able men in Calcutta were probably right, despite my first impressions to the contrary. But it is true that administrative minds are often clouded by knowledge of the very detail which gives them a sense of superiority. And again, the important moral relations between com- munities, as between men, are best guided by a few general principles, and even one who is not viceroy of India may grasp these. So clear is it to me, however, that outside amateur criticism is liable to error, when the case becomes complicated, that I now proceed with much more hesitation than before to state one of my first and strongest impressions as to the unwisdom of the present Tibetan policy. It has seemed to me that when the facts shall be understood in Afghanistan, as in the end they will be, grave risk will arise of losing the nascent favour of the Ameer, and of compromising British interests, in a quarter where none will question their present importance, how- ever one may criticise the course which led to their creation. How different the situation there from that existing in the north-east ! Afghanistan is co- terminous with British-administered territory. Tibet is not. Afghanistan is inhabited by a warlike peo- Counsels of Perfection 251 pie. Tibet is not. Afghanistan is a bridge spanning directly from British to Russian territory. Tibet is not. Afghanistan is of like religion with millions of the least pliable among the Indian populations. Tibet is not. Afghanistan is blown with fanaticism and the pride of past conquests in Hindoo lands. Tibet is not. Such are their dissimilarities. But both are small nations, clinging devotedly to their present political and social conditions; both felt themselves as sitting insecurely just beyond the last reach of the lion's claws. Afghanistan had twice been torn to the entrails by his outstretched wrath, but had flung death aside; and now, through the skill of an English surgeon who healed the Ameer's hand (wounded in a shooting accident) ; through the elation caused by news of disaster in Manchuria to one of the threatening neighbours; through several transient favouring causes, the royal mind has un- bent and leaned, or now seems to lean, toward British friendship. The observer who knows only these facts might well inquire as to the wisdom of a course which, by a needless attack upon a hermit people, may frighten the young confidence of the Ameer and confirm him in the faith, held by so many of his people, that the lion never sleeps and is always hungry. The possibility of losing ground in Af- ghanistan by virtue of a raid into Tibet, with doubt- ful gain as maximum reward, must certainly have been contemplated by a watchful Government in Calcutta. In respect to such an indirect and some- what complicated relation, the amateur and foreign critic is silent, or merely wonders. He bows to the 252 Tibet and Turkestan great god " Government" like a loyal Briton, not dar- ing to say of it, " Tant&ne dnimis coelestibus irce ? ' Except that confession and restitution are not yet among the phenomena of national ethics, no one, I fancy, would find fault with the speech of peace- making which I had ventured to put into the mouth of the British Government. Exceptional as it is, I feel sure that, if uttered in sincerity, it would be followed by the happy results which most of us have experienced, now and then, in our private lives. Surely the best relation, selfishly considered at Cal- cutta, and assuming Tibet to be a point of possible Rus- sian intrigue, would be that of friendship. But the course of past events has made it impossible that the Tibetan should not entertain fear rather than love of the British. Little has been done to dissipate, much to encourage that fear. Even in the acts which were extraneous to Tibetan relations, as in China, and which had no conscious reference to them, this had unfortunately been true. All the more reason for special effort here. How shall friendship be shown, you ask, to a people who refuse our modest "com- mercial missions"? Let them alone, or slowly gain their good-will through the Ladakis and Kashmiris who have access to them and who afford you a far more useful intermediation than Russia possesses. 1 This view of the case seems to be abundantly justified by the re- cent refusal of the Ameer to meet any of the substantial demands made by the British Commissioner who sought modifications in the existing treaty between the two Powers. Resulting from his unex- pected obstinacy are several threats of punishment appearing in seri- ous British publications. True, they are not official but they are straws in the current of public opinion. Counsels of Perfection 253 It will take time to win them. It has taken a century of encroachment to fill their hearts with fear of you. But you know that there is nothing, save fear of you, to cause them to give a second thought to Russia, far away across the dreadful deserts. Then remove the fear of you in Tibetan hearts, and you thus remove the fear of Russia in yours. It is possible that this should be done. The whole his- tory and delineation of the people suggest it. Con- sider their weakness and your strength. If ever they have listened to the Buriat's words of sugges- tion, if ever he suggested anything more than the welfare of his own community as hanging upon the favour of the Czar, then it could be only because you have bred fear instead of love. These people received you kindly in the past ; they have opened their doors to those who preach your faith; and they have seen a wall of fire approach them. Try to assure them that the flame will not again tongue the peaks of their mountains. Try to take into your dealings with this poor people the warmth, the hospitality, the friendship, the quick charity which your splendid officers have shown to me, a helpless stranger, in many forsaken spots of the traveller's world. And as to that unselfish interest in the de- velopment of a people which, after all, does exist in your hearts, let it be satisfied by reflecting that the vast changes now making in China must reach Tibet, even if you let it alone. Slow indeed would be the process; with less of heartburn and despair; less loss of faith in something great and good ; less vio- lence done to honesty in your own breasts; less strain upon the peace of nations; less worship of 254 Tibet and Turkestan the brute throughout the world, such would be the awakening of Tibet by China. Summarising, we may say that Russian military occupation of Tibet is almost incredible ; that if ac- complished, it must be done across the corpse of the world's Chinese policy; that, if extended against India, it could result in nothing but a massacre of such Russo-Tibetan forces as might be entrapped in the Himalayas; that mere intrigue could produce, if, incredibly, it produced anything at all, only some abortive effort even less serious than the imagined movement under Russian leadership; that there is as yet no known evidence of Russian anti-British "intrigue " ; that in either case the imagined attack upon India from Tibet could be foreknown through a moderately efficient secret service; that it could be met when precipitated with far less expenditure of energy and of treasure (practically no lives are involved in either case) than the Younghusband ex- pedition has involved ; that the maintenance of en- forced trade-privilege will result in absurdly small commercial advantage and ominously large political irritation. The course actually pursued has con- firmed the Tibetans in their fears of British conquest ; the Afghans in their blackest suspicions ; the Rus- sians in their charges of British duplicity 1 ; and the world at large in its suspicion that brute force, not justice, must be the protection of any cause what- ever. Against such evil effects there is not now any righteous remedy except that known aforetime confession and restitution. 'See Appendices showing relation between diplomatic relations and actual results. CHAPTER XX THE SACRIFICE OF YOUNGHUSBAND WHAT NEXT ? SINCE writing the preceding chapter, there has appeared a second Blue Book in re Tibet. It reveals a contest between Policy and Logic. Lon- don had heard the notes of discontent emanating from several capitals, and vigorous protest from St. Petersburg, the capital most seriously and directly interested. The Younghusband treaty had not been received as a source of sweetness and light in inter- national politics. Wisely mindful of the vast burdens which the Empire is accumulating, and fearing that the sure gain of Tibetan occupation might be far less than the loss due to European (and American) opposi- tion, it was decided to sacrifice Colonel Younghus- band, and, with him, those terms of the treaty which, alone, can give it substance. Clause IX. declares in effect a protectorate over Tibet. This clause was dictated in London. To obtain for it the signature of even a trumped-up Government, London had permitted yea, com- manded the slaughter of many innocent men. It stands for a violation of Tibetan autonomy and of Chinese suzerainty. To make it effective some- thing more must logically be had and this was 255 256 Tibet and Turkestan secured by Colonel Younghusband. His corre- spondence discloses the fact that as was surmised above the indemnity had been fixed at an "ex- orbitant " figure. The adjective is Colonel Young- husband's. But he wanted to use it "in trade." He finally "accepts their own proposition" (so gracious is the wolf to the lamb), and provides for seventy-five annual payments, pending the comple- tion of which that is, for seventy-five years there is to be British occupation of the Chumbi Valley. That is Tibetan territory and the military key to the situation. Here is something out of which enforcement of Clause IX. could be had. But, as logically belong- ing to the haughty pretensions of that clause, there must be closer touch with Lhasa than would result merely from the establishment of troops in Chumbi Valley still half a dozen good marches distant from the capital. So it was in the earlier negotiations wisely provided that the British commercial agent, ordinarily charged with the conduct of affairs at the two trading-marts provided in the treaty, should be allowed, when he deemed it necessary, to proceed to Lhasa. Thus supervision and force were reason- ably created to perpetuate a control which, without them, must be the veriest sham. Both these pro- visions have been disallowed, in whole or in part, by the Indian Office in London, and Younghusband has been publicly reprimanded for wilfully exceeding specific instructions. 1 But if no British are to appear again in Tibet, how shall the ghost of Russian in- 1 The provision for visiting Lhasa was struck out before signatures were had. The Sacrifice of Younghusband 257 terference be laid? What check exists now against the dreadful Dordjieff which did not exist before the raid? "The treaty exists," replies the Indian Office, "and now, if we hear further rumours of intrigue, we shall have, out of our treaty, a casus belli:' But you have just made a war without a treaty you made it at your will, alleging only absurd ru- mours as your excuse and such rumours will again be created for you or by you in the future as in the past. Indeed, they are much more to be expected now than ever before. Now, as never before, the Tibe- tans may be led to give ear to him who might be- guile them with promise of protection from your blood-stained hands. And, without supervision at Lhasa, without nearby force ever threatening pun- ishment, the nervousness, the distrust, the furtive hope of the Tibetans, co-operating with your own suspicions and enforced ignorance, must create troublesome situations which were impossible be- fore the raid. Occasions for misunderstanding will further arise from the presence of unwelcome traders at the marts which the Tibetans are required to establish, and especially from the attempted disorganisation of the tea-trade, now the source of a considerable part of the revenue of the governing class. The indemnity has been reduced from seventy-five annual pay- ments, aggregating Rs. 7,500,000, to twenty-five annual payments aggregating Rs. 2,500,000. The occupation of Chumbi Valley has been reduced from a definite period of seventy-five years, to a minimum of three years. But the door is cunningly left open 258 Tibet and Turkestan for returning substantially to the Younghusband provision. It is declared that "the British occupation of the Chumbi Valley shall cease after the payment of three annual installments of said indemnity, as fixed by the said article. Provided, however, that the trade-marts, as stipulated in Article 2 of the said Convention, shall have been effectively open for three years, as provided in Article 6 of the Conven- tion, and that in the meantime the Tibetans shall have faithfully complied with the terms of the said convention in all other respects" (Italics are mine. O. T. C.) In dealing with Tibet (if standing alone) the British Government will be the sole judge of its own complaints. On the very face of the Viceroy's edict, just quoted, it is apparent that the gracious reduction in the period of occupation may at any time be withdrawn. Real or alleged grievances of Hindoo traders; real or alleged exploits of Dord- jieff* s spectre ; real or alleged resistance to the proper setting of boundary stones almost any of a thou- sand pitifully small acts of a disturbed people, treading a new path, may serve to end the farce of grace. The Blue Book discloses, too, all the wrangling between authorities which led to the making of the magnanimous edict. It shows him who officially uttered the gracious words strongly contending for the retention of the terms exacted by Younghus- band. It shows the Secretary for India, who de- mands the changes, urging British international interest, not justice or clemency for the Tibetans, as the effective reason for modification. And it The Sacrifice of Younghusband 259 shows both finally compromising their divergent views in the "act of grace." Had the Blue Book not been published, the Tibetans might have been deceived. But as the English language is under- stood in Chinese embassies, the fraud must be known even in Lhasa. There, men wear hideous devil- masks that hide good-humoured faces. Now they know that the English "act of grace" means simply this: "Unless prevented therefrom by rival powers, we shall do with the Tibetans whate'er we will." 'T is a fair mask hiding an ugly face. The rejection of Younghusband by the Govern- ment adds nothing of morality to its role. The publication of the Blue Book does, however, suggest an engaging simplicity. Confession and Restitution these still remain to- day approved by Religion, neglected by States- manship. CHAPTER XXI SKETCH OF THE HISTORY OF TURKESTAN ' THE curtain rises on Turkestan about 200 B.C. Khotan is known in the Chinese records at about that date. In 177 B.C. these records set forth the expulsion of Khotanese and Kashgaris from their homes due to the incoming, from North-east Mongolia, of swarms of Yue-che, of Mongol or Tartan race, who sought new homes vi et armis. Those whose vines and fig-trees they coveted were a people far advanced beyond the Yue-che in all the civil arts. Enough has been said in connection with the ancient MSS. recently discovered (p. 60) to in- dicate that the Khotan country (doubtless includ- ing the region farther westward) was the seat of some learning as early as the date ascribed to this movement; and even without the specific evidence which has been found to indicate that fact, it might be fairly deduced from the mere existence of several considerable cities in the Tarim basin. Their exist- ence in such a land supposes extensive systems of irrigation, and these, in turn, always bespeak a highly 1 The author has delivered several lectures on the journey recounted in this book. Subsequent conversation with his hearers has sug- gested the need of a short presentation such as here is attempted of the history of Turkestan. It is not essential to an understanding of urgent problems, but will, perhaps, interest some lovers of the past, 260 . -5 rt *- 3 o si .S 8 u -a y Sketch of History of Turkestan 261 developed social organisation. That their ultimate effect would be to weaken the organisation as a military force has already been pointed out. It is not probable, therefore, that the hardy shepherds from Mongolia paid much of their blood for the conquest of the rich oases. In speaking of the expulsion of these earliest dwellers I have used a term frequently found in that connection, but in strictness it should be called merely a conquest. The attack of the Yue-che was not that of a ravaging army led by a Jenghiz Khan or a Tamerlane, having his seat of power already fixed, and now merely hungry for dominion. It seems to have been the effort of a displaced peo- ple to find new homes. They were unaccustomed to fixed agriculture with all the niceties of a tangled irrigation works: wholesale slaughter or expulsion would then have left them without toilers for the ditches and the fields, whose fruits they might take as landlords. That a considerable number of the conquered should leave is not unlikely in particu- lar the pride-hurt chiefs and their closer following. The traditions of West Turkestan, indeed, bear wit- ness to such a movement ; the earlier settlers there were disturbed by this secondary wave the dispos- sessed becoming thus the dispossessors. But the body of the people probably remained. To what race they belonged is not known, and because of the darkness, many students have boldly stumbled for- ward with theories equally lacking in proof or dis- proof. Such speculation was rife even before the recent extended discoveries and studies of Sven Hedin and Dr. Stein. While the latter has not, so 262 Tibet and Turkestan far as I know, expressed himself on that point, it has seemed to me that the facial types shown in certain statues found by him, and the mental type disclosed by some of the recovered writings, point to a race not Mongol as having constituted the superior and clerical element of the Khotanese inhabitants as early as the beginning of our era. Yet, on the other hand, little has been found to cause the temple ornamentation or religious literature to be accepted as proper expressions of the general genius of the people. Religious antiquities, coming from an era just following the acceptance of a new faith by a con- verted people, must not be lightly adopted as evi- dence in the establishment of racial affinities. The mere susceptibility to Aryan influences, as shown by the various "finds" in the buried cities, hints of a certain docility and suppleness which may mark any people dwelling in the dense and enervating condi- tions of oasis life ; while the absence of original work in any developed art suggests affinity with the Mon- gol who has ever been extremely indifferent to all that may be known to us as classic influence. The few facts available to us for reconstructing this pe- riod in Turkestan seem entirely consistent with the theory that the invaders of Tartar-Mongol blood were gradually absorbed by their more numerous and more civilised victims, while the resulting composite race became, for a time, at least, of tougher fibre, but not insensible to the artistic and religious im- pulses reaching it from the south-west or west, and which, even before the coming of the Yue-che, had already influenced the Tarim civilisation. Sketch of History of Turkestan 263 Many students indeed would suppose, not merely Aryan (Graeco-Bactrian or Graeco-Indian) influence, such as might be exerted by the incoming of a few enlightened teachers or great merchants ; but would trace the very origin of the Tarim race itself to some western or south-western source. A reference to Darius's dreams of conquest and colonisation in the farthest East is thought to point the way toward a theory of Iranian ancestry. The frequent occur- rence of monkey images in clay among the an- tiquities taken from Boresan, about three miles from Khotan, suggests a popular familiarity with Macca- cus Semnopithicus, an animal commonly found to the south of the Himalayas. This toy, together with the similarity of head-dress .shown in small terra- cotta images to that known in Northern India sev- eral centuries before Christ are seized upon to give Hindu- Aryan grandfathers to the Tarim people. The idealised lion-faces (see p. 140) are also numer- ous at Boresan ; those from which the illustrations are made were picked up by the natives from some new-cut face of the loess, formed by the wandering current of the river. These lion-faces do duty as proofs of Mesopotamian influence, or, to the ad- herents of Hebraic ideas, of Mesopotamian origin. The lion is not known in Turkestan. Its image is everywhere even in snowy Tibet it is a common architectural ornament. An inspection of toy-shops or bric-a-brac counters in London or New York might, by reasoning similar to that just recorded, result in bringing us all from Africa home of the menageries which, in paste- board and in flesh, have furnished our childish or 264 Tibet and Turkestan our grown-up curiosity with its choicest satisfac- tion. Western influence, beginning probably not later than the Alexandrian conquests, seems to me well established ; western origin of the body of the people of that age seems to me not established, and even improbable. The body of the people were perhaps always, as now, related in blood to the Mongol-Tartar family well represented by their near neighbours of the mountains, the shepherd Kirghiz. Some of these would gradually form permanent settlements in the foot-hills of the great ranges, where grazing and irrigation-agriculture could be combined. Then as the knowledge of the latter method grew, its ex- tensions would form the great oases, having perma- nent cities, which would become permanent marts. To the modification of type due to this change in occupation and physical surroundings would be added the blood change due to the incoming of traders from other lands. A nomadic people is of stable type mixture of blood being almost impos- sible. But no city-dwelling people, having markets even measurably open to the world, can long remain of pure stock. Returning to the Yue-che invasion, and assuming it to have been followed by a period of assimilation of victor by vanquished, the two having an under- lying kinship, antedating the fixed settlements of the Tarim people, and postdating their uplift by Aryan influence, we come, in the Chinese chronicles, to a conquest by the Chinese themselves. That was the beginning of a hold upon Kashgaria which has continued, sometimes shadow, sometimes sub-