Sebuah Perjalanan ke Lhasa dan Tibet Tengah/Bab 4
January 13.—The money we had brought from Darjiling being almost expended, we were now in the necessity of selling the pearls and gold we had brought with us. I therefore sent Ugyen to the market to inquire of Lupa gyaltsan, with whom we had left some tolas of pearls for sale, if he had been able to dispose of them. Lupa gyaltsan told him that he had shown the pearls to a Lhasa merchant, who had not offered more than cost price for them. The market for pearls, he added, was very poor, and we must not expect to realize much profit out of ours for some months to come.
He also told Ugyen that great preparations were being made for the Grand Lama's visit to Lhasa in May, for the ordination of the Dalai lama.[1] On that occasion the Tashi would have to make return presents and give rewards in money to the various officials and chiefs of Tibet, for which robes, boots, etc., were now being made in great numbers.
January 14.—On the way to the market to-day Ugyen met Lupa gyaltsan, who informed him that some traders from Phagri, Chumbi, and Rin-chen-gang had just arrived, and that, to judge from their conversation, they were not well disposed towards us. He therefore cautioned Ugyen, so that he might not meet them unprepared. Ugyen, in consequence, first went to the police station and learnt from his friend, the Chinese havildar of Shigatse, who the new-comers were; then he looked them up, and questioned them about the passes to India. They told him they had been able to get here through the Lhasa Government having declared the Phagri pass open. As to the Sikkim rajah coming here, they could give no definite information, though they said there was much talk about his marrying the daughter of a great man of Lhasa.
In the afternoon the minister sent for me, and told me that the boxes containing the lithographic press sent him some months ago had not been opened for fear of small-pox. "I thought the cases contained some miraculous remedies which could neutralize small-pox. One night I smelt some gaseous emanations coming out from the boxes, which I thought contained the germs of small-pox; so I could not sleep that night, so troubled was my mind lest small-pox should attack us." We laughed heartily at his holiness's fancies, and I told him that the vaccine he had asked for was among the things still at the Lachan pass. At last he was convinced of the groundlessness of his fears, and joined with us in laughing at them.
January 15.—After breakfast we unpacked in the minister's library the lithographic press, and set it up, the minister taking great interest in the work and assisting me himself.
January 16.—After breakfast, which we took with the minister in the west drawing-room of the Phuntso khangsar, he told me that he was most anxious to get the things I had at Lachan. Phurchung was not intelligent enough to get around the Djongpon of Khamba, even if he were provided with the best of passports. He thought it indispensable for Ugyen to undertake the journey to Lachan, especially as he had relatives there, a circumstance which would greatly facilitate the accomplishment of his mission.
Ugyen objected to start on such a difficult journey at a season of the year when the cold would be intense and the Kangra lamo pass would be blocked with snow; but he felt, nevertheless, called upon to comply with the minister's request, if he provided him with a proper passport. Not only did the minister promise to give him an excellent passport, but he also said that he would propitiate the gods to the end that they would protect him from dangers from man, beast, or disease, till the first of the third Tibetan moon (end of April, 1882).
When this was settled Ugyen begged the minister to look after me in his absence, and not to allow any injury to be done me on the ground that I was a foreigner. He asked him to give him a letter stating, first, that he (the minister) would see to my welfare, and that I would be in no way molested; second, that on Ugyen-gyatso's return he and I might go on a pilgrimage to Central Tibet; third, that we should be protected in any difficulty which might arise on the score of our being foreigners.
Besides the great importance of obtaining these written assurances from the minister, the production of such a letter by Ugyen, in case of my death during his absence, would relieve him of all responsibility towards our Government.
The minister promised to keep me in his house as a member of his family, to defray all my expenses, and to send me to Lhasa in May with the Tashi lama's party. Should, however, neither the Grand Lama nor himself go to Lhasa, he would make other arrangements for our pilgrimage there. As to the third point mentioned in the above agreement, he said that he was fully aware when he invited us to come to Tashilhunpo of the responsibility he assumed towards us, and that he would not allow us to be molested by any one during our stay in Tibet.
January 17.—The minister went in the morning to Shigatse, to grant absolution to the departed soul of Shang-po, one of the six Tsopon who had been so severely punished by the Chinese authorities on the 13th of December last, and who had died from the effects of the flogging then received. We devoted the whole day to the setting up of the lithographic press.
January 18.—The minister told Ugyen that Kusho Badur-la, the head of the transportation department, wished to see the pearls we had brought with us. Ugyen did not find him at home, but conversed with his wife, whom he at once recognized, having seen her at Tumlung and Chumbi, she being the elder sister of the present Rajah of Sikkim. She gave him a very kind reception, and talked to him for nearly an hour, treating him to tea and gya-tug (vermicelli).
January 19.—To-day being the day of the new moon, nearly a thousand beggars lined the road leading from Tashilhunpo to Shigatse, where Lhagpa tsering was distributing alms to them.
At noon Ugyen visited the market-place, where he witnessed a quarrel between a woman and a Khamba over a tanka's worth of tsamba, in the course of which the woman challenged the man to take an oath very common in Tibet, namely, that if he told an untruth, he might never see the Grand Lama's face. The people of Khams are a fierce race who infest the solitudes of Tibet, and generally carry on depredations on the isolated villages north of Lhasa. They are a dangerous class.[2]
January 20.—Early in the morning we received an invitation to dine with our acquaintance, Lupa gyaltsan. We were told that to-day was the New Year's Day of the working class, and was so observed by all the people of Tibet, with the exception of the clergy.
After breakfast we went to the minister's, and told him the press was ready for working. I asked him to print a very auspicious hymn, that the first fruit of our labour might be a sacred composition. He at once ran to his study and brought a stanza, or stotra, composed by the present Grand Lama (of Tashilhunpo?) in honour and praise of the minister. This he copied himself on the transfer paper, and we obtained excellent impressions of it, much to his delight. The "stone press" (do par) was forthwith given the name of the "miraculous press" (tul par).
At three in the afternoon we asked leave to go to Lupa gyaltsan's house, where I had a most hearty reception, he and his wife coming to help me dismount from my pony. We were ushered into a newly finished room on the first floor, where was also his chapel. First chang was served, then tea was brought by his daughter, a girl of ten, and the wife placed a wooden bowl filled with tsamba and some pieces of boiled mutton on a little table before us. Then Lupa gyaltsan, taking off his turban, asked me to take sol ja and consider that I was dining in my own house. Shortly after, Ugyen, in accordance with Tibetan custom, made a short speech exhorting Lupa to always inquire after my health during his absence from Tashilhunpo, and to get for me all such articles of food, etc., that I might want. He thanked him for his kindness, and added that, as Lupa and I were old acquaintances, we should behave to each other as brothers born of the same mother. So saying, he presented him and his wife with a rupee and a khatag each, putting the coins in their hands and the scarfs round their necks. Ugyen then put a khatag around my servant Lhagpa's neck, telling him to serve me ever faithfully. Lupa's daughter, having dressed herself in her gala dress, danced for us and sang a song, first in the Tibetan way, then in the Chinese; she sang also a Chinese song, Lupa accompanying her on the flute (ling-bu). After this Lupa's wife sang a song, and then wished us a happy new year. We then took leave of our hosts, wishing them also a happy new year.
Having inquired if the observance of this day was a purely Tibetan custom, I gathered from their reply that this was the New Year's Day according to the Tibetan custom of the pre-Buddhist period. It is the only remnant of ancient Tibetan custom, as far as I know, which has not been displaced by Buddhism.
January 21.—This day was also observed as a holiday by the laity. There were so few persons in the market-place that Ugyen could buy no provisions. The minister graciously insisted that I should take up my quarters in his residence, Puntso khangsar, where he offered me the library with an attached waiting-room and bath-room.
In the evening Nyima-dorje, the oldest son of the Chyag-dso-pa of Dongtse, came and consulted me about his eyes. On the right one I found that a cataract had formed. I told him I was exceedingly sorry I had no medicines with me to suit his case, but that Ugyen was going to Calcutta as soon as he had obtained a passport, and that he would bring back some drugs with him. He then said that it was this passport that had brought him here to speak to the minister about, and that he believed it would be ready in a day or two.
January 22.—I resumed reading English and working sums in arithmetic with the minister. After reading a few lines he turned over the pages of Ganot's 'Physics,' and asked me to explain the diagrams on telegraphy and the camera obscura. He wanted everything explained to him; but, unfortunately for me, I was not myself acquainted with most of the subjects which excited his curiosity. Not prepared to expose my ignorance, I dwelt longer on such questions as I could best explain, and with which I was most familiar; but in spite of all my attempts to evade his inquisitiveness, the shrewd minister gauged me well, and expressed his earnest desire to meet such men as I had described to him, Dr. Sircar and my brother, Navin Chandra, to be.
In the afternoon Nyima-dorje brought the lam-yig (passport), and presented it to the minister. We were called in and shown it; but Ugyen disapproved of it, as nothing was said in it of his return journey here, so it was sent back for correction.
January 23.—Crowds of visitors came to receive the minister's blessing (chyag-wang); among them were many Khalkhas and other Mongols from remote sections of that country. The Khalkhas were introduced by Lobzang Arya, my cook during my first sojourn at Tashilhunpo in 1879, and now a man of standing and elder (gyer-gyan) of the Khalkha Kham-tsan. The minister talked with him in Mongolian, after receiving the pilgrims with much kindness.
January 24—Early in the morning I was called by the minister, and found a young monk of the Nyagpa Ta-tsang (a Tantrik school)[3] sitting with him. The minister asked me to examine his eyes, which were a little swollen, telling me at the same time that this young man had served him devotedly during his residence at the Nyag-khang, and was deserving of my care. I gave him a few doses of alum lotion to wash his eyes with, and made him promise to walk round the monastery several times a day whenever it was fair weather.
In the afternoon I lunched with the Tung-chen, and we conversed about the high winds which at this season blow every afternoon. He spoke also of the Phagri pass, and told me that the collector of customs (Serpon) there was a friend of his, and that if Ugyen went to Darjiling by the Phagri pass, he could give him a letter of introduction to that officer. I thanked him for his kindness, adding that Ugyen preferred the Lachan pass, as he had a passport from the commander of Shigatse which did not extend to Phagri djong.
January 25.—The minister told me that in certain stellar maps he had examined he saw that figures were given the different constellations, and that he understood these figures really existed in the sky; so, wishing to see them, he had bought a large telescope at much cost. He did not know, however, how to use it, and was most anxious to have a well-illustrated work on astronomy, that he might know what to look for and where to look for it. He also remembered my saying that the regions of the moon, Saturn, and even of the sun, were visible through the telescope, and he was curious to know what these luminaries contained, for he had hitherto been under the impression that these celestial bodies were angelic luminaries who, for the excellence of their moral merits, had been promoted to celestial mansions of different heights, thence to shed on us their radiant lustre, and thereby guide all living beings of the earth in the path of dharma.
While we were thus talking Nyima-dorje arrived, and presented the passport to his holiness. After perusing it he handed it to me, and I passed it to Ugyen. We found that the commanders of Shigatse (Dahpon), in order to prevent the introduction of small-pox, had instructed in it the Djongpon of Khamba to examine the contents of our boxes, to prevent contagion being brought into the country in them. This would put the Djongpon in a position to exact from Ugyen any amount of money he might choose; but as it would be inconvenient to wait longer for a corrected lam-yig, the minister advised Ugyen to be satisfied with the present one, and to do the best he could with it.
January 26.—Ugyen declared that Phurchung's services were absolutely necessary to him, and asked that he be lent to him for six months, adding that without him he would not start on the journey. After breakfast the minister consulted with the Tung-chen and Gopa about keeping me with him. Arrangements were soon made; but they all objected to my keeping Lhagpa as my servant, telling me that a Shigatse man could not be trusted, as they were cunning, deceitful, and faithless. He added that, as he had undertaken to look to my wants and comforts, there was not the least necessity for my keeping a servant at my own expense. Fearing lest he should suspect me of ulterior designs, I at once accepted his decision, though I had hoped, by means of Lhagpa, to keep myself informed of what was going on in the monastery and the town, I myself being practically confined within the walls of the minister's residence, as I was required, according to custom, to wait upon his holiness.
January 27.—Ugyen and Phurchung busied themselves in preparing for the journey. The former took a pair of Gyantse blankets and a suit of lambskin clothes, and I gave Phurchung a pair of my own blankets for his use during the journey. They purchased a large quantity of sheep's fat to distribute among the Sikkimese on the way. Dried mutton, tsamba, and sheep's fat are the dainties the Sikkimese esteem above all others. They hired four ponies to ride and carry their luggage.
In the evening we were invited to take tea with the minister, when Ugyen took formal leave, making three profound bows to his holiness, and praying that his blessing might always be on him, and that, by the mercy of the sacred Buddhas, he might reach his destination safely.
January 28.—To-day, the 10th of the 12th moon, was considered a highly auspicious day on which to start for India. At 6 o'clock Ugyen, Phurchung, and I went to the minister's apartment, when his holiness, after a short prayer, wished them a safe and pleasant journey, and placed khatag on their necks. At Ugyen's special request I desired Phurchung in a short speech to serve Ugyen as he would serve me, to which he answered, "La laso, laso" (yes, sir, yes). Then we returned to the Torgod chyi-khang, our lodging, where, after breakfast, I presented parting khatag to my faithful companions. The scene was extremely touching, and they shed tears at leaving me alone. I, too, could not suppress my feelings as I exhorted them to take care of themselves in the snows, and to be prepared for heavy snowfalls. They both rode off in high spirits towards Delel.[4]
Shortly after I sent Wang-chyug gyalpo and the minister's page to fetch my clothes, utensils, etc., to my new quarters. They brought some, and told me that my trusted servant, Lhagpa, was quietly carrying off my kettles and plates. I immediately went to the Torgod chyi-khang, and asked him to give up the missing articles, but he denied any knowledge of them, though we could see the breast of his gown stuffed out with them, and he insisted the devils (de) must have carried them off. I at once sent for the Nyerpa and the Tung-chen. It was impossible, however, to search Lhagpa, so we had to confine ourselves to drawing up a list of the things missing and of the things I had with me; and then, locking the door of my lodgings, the Tung-chen told Lhagpa to return quietly to his house. The Tung-chen smiled at the roguery of my trusted servant, and made me understand that I knew very little about Tibetans, and that I should not have trusted Shigatse people.
January 29.—The minister came to my rooms, and insisted on nailing up a curtain, so as to divide the room in two, the books in the northern part, and my seat and bedstead in the southern half of it. He said that such an arrangement was necessary, as the books were of arsenical paper, and I would fall ill if I continually breathed the air of this place. Underneath my room was the cook-room (sol-tab), the heat from which kept the library dry and warm. There was but one window, about four feet square, in my room, through which I could see the Nartang hills.
At 9 o’clock breakfast was announced, when the Nyerpa conducted me to the minister’s presence. Tea was served me in a pretty china cup, and Kachan gopa brought me a bowl of tsamba and a few slices of boiled mutton, and, noticing my difficulty in making dough of the tsamba and tea after the Tibetan fashion, took it from me and mixed it himself, twirling the cup on the palm of his hand, and mixing the flour and tea with his forefinger.
In the dining-room there was a parrot lately presented to the minister by the Chyan-dso shar of Tashilhunpo, and a small saffron plant raised from some seed brought from Kashmir. This plant throve well, I was told, but yielded no saffron.
After breakfast I returned to my studies, and, with the permission of the minister, commenced a search for Sanskrit books in his library. At noon the cook placed on an earthenware stove near me a pot of steaming tea, and in the afternoon he filled it again. I was told it was injurious to drink cold water; Tibetans very seldom drink it; the laymen quench their thirst with draughts of cold fermented barley liquor (chang), and lamas with hot tea.
As the minister, on account of his vows, was debarred from eating in the afternoon, evening, or night, he desired me to take my supper with the secretary; so when the lamp was lighted I went downstairs, and sat gossiping in the kitchen with him.
January 30.—To-day I discovered three Sanskrit works written in the Tibetan character. They were the Kavyadarsha, by Acharya Sri Dandi; the Chandra Vyakarana, by Chandra Gomi; and the Sarasvat Vyakarana, by Acharya Ami. I was transported with joy when I saw that they contained explanations in Tibetan.
In the afternoon I showed Sri Dandi’s work to the minister, who, to my surprise, was able to give me more information concerning him than I had expected, and he had committed the entire work to memory. "Dandi," he said, "must have lived a thousand and more years ago, for this work was translated into Tibetan by one of the Sakya hierarchs who lived about six hundred years ago, and it is probable that the work was not very new when it came to be known in this country."
January 31.—Preparations for the new year’s ceremonies now occupy the attention of all classes. Large numbers of men are coming to take the first vows of monkhood, and Kachan Shabdung introduced to-day a number of them to his holiness. The minister’s time was largely taken up with these religious duties, and I could not see him for more than ten or twelve minutes. When I withdrew to my room, the astrologer, Lobzang, came to see me; he was busy with the almanac for the new year, and kept turning over its pages to see if there were any mistakes. The minister also had to examine it before submitting it to the Grand Lama.
Lobzang, seeing the lithographic press, was curious to know what "those stones and wheeled apparatus," as he put it, were meant for. He begged me to explain the process of printing, but I evaded his questions, as I had been told not to talk of the press to outsiders.
In the evening the Deba Shika arrived with a large supply of butter and tsamba, evidently to be used in the new year’s ceremonies.
From this time on I devoted myself to the study of the sacred books and histories of Tibet, and ceased to keep a regular diary, noting only such things concerning the customs and manners of the country as seemed interesting. When I felt tired of Tibetan I refreshed my mind with the melodious verses of Dandi’s Kavyadarsha, both in the original and the Tibetan translation, and during my leisure hours I conversed with the Tung-chen, the Nyerpa, and other well-informed men.
The first part of February was very cold; the north wind blew daily, raising clouds of dust in the plain to the west and south of the city. People, however, were busily engaged out-of-doors, gathering fuel and tending cattle; in fact, this is the busiest season of the year, a period of universal merry-making, and also of great activity in trade.
The Tibetans, whether monks or laymen, are very early risers. In the monastery the great trumpet (dung chen) summoned the monks to the congregation hall for prayers at three in the morning, and those who failed to be present were punished at the Tsog-chen; for, though there is no roll call, yet the absence of a single monk is surely remarked by the provost.
The minister, who frequently peeped into my room to see whether I was studying or no, excused me from early rising on the ground that he often found me up with my books at midnight.
On the 16th I was asked by the Deba Shika to go with him the following day to see the Grand Lama dance, or cham.[5] On my observing that I feared the whips of the stage guards (djim-gag-pa) if I mixed with the crowd, he promised to have seats reserved for our party.
Early the next morning men and women dressed in their best began streaming into the monastery to see the cham. Accompanied by the Tung-chen, the Deba Shika, and a lama friend, we went our way towards the Nyag-khang, in the courtyard of the Tsug-la khang, in which the dances were to begin. On the way we stopped to visit an old chapel containing several inscriptions relating to Gedun-dub, the founder of Tashilhunpo, and the mark of a horse’s hoof impressed on a rock, which passers-by touch with their heads.[6]
Then we took our seats on the balcony of the second floor of the Nyag-khang building, and watched the preparations for the dance. Twenty-four sacred flags of satin, with embroidered figures of dragons and other monsters worked in threads of gold, were first unfurled at the top of long and slender poplar poles, and square parti-coloured flags were also hung all around the Tsug-la khang. About a dozen monks wearing coats of mail had masks which, for the most part, represented eagles’ heads. The dancers entered one after the other, and then followed the abbot of the Nyag-pa Ta-tsan, Kusho Yon-djin Lhopa by name, holding a dorje in his right hand, and a bell in his left. He wore a yellow mitre-shaped cap, with lappets covering his ears and hanging down to his breast. He was tall and fair; he looked intelligent, his manners were most dignified, and he performed his part most cleverly.
After a while the flag-bearers, the masked monks, and all the cortége repaired to the great Tsug-la khang of Tashilhunpo, which is about 300 yards long and 150 feet broad. Round this courtyard are four-storied buildings with handsome pillared balconies, the Grand Lama's seat being on the western side. The long balconies on the east and south were occupied by the nobility of Tsang, and those on the north by Mongol pilgrims and a number of Shigatse merchants. The abbots of the four Ta-tsan had seats just above the Nyag-pa, who, to the number of fifty odd, and assisted by their Om-dse[7] and the Dorje Lopon, these holding in their hands cymbals and tambourines, went through a short religious service under the direction of the Kusho Yon-djin Lhopa. This latter made during this service peculiar motions with his hands, in which he held, as I have said, a dorje and a bell.
When this was over a figure with a dark-coloured mask, and representing the Hoshang Dharma-tala,[8] advanced, and the spectators flung him khatags, which his two yellow-faced wives picked up. When these three had left the scene, the four kings of the four cardinal points appeared, dressed in all the wild and barbaric splendour in which such monarchs could indulge. Then came the sons of the gods, some sixty in number, dressed in beautiful silk robes glittering with gold embroideries and precious stones. These were followed by Indian atsaras, whose black and bearded faces and uncouth dress excited loud laughter among the crowd. Then appeared four guardians of the graves, whose skeleton-like appearance was meant to remind the spectators of the terrors of death. After this the devil was burnt in effigy on a pile of dry sedge, and with this the cham came to an end.[9] While it was in progress incense was burnt on Mount Dolma (Dolmai-ri), behind the monastery, and on all the other neighbouring mountain-tops. I learnt from the Tung-chen that there were several books on the subject of these religious dances and music.
The following day (February 18) I went with the Tung-chen for a walk. Proceeding about 300 paces, we came to a flight of stone steps below the western gateway. This latter, which is some twelve feet high and eight wide, has massive doors, which are closed between sunset and sunrise; it is the principal entrance of the monastery. About fifty feet beyond this gate, and on a line with the gilt mausolea of the grand lamas (gya-phig), we came to another flight of steps, some of them cut in the rock, which led us to the north-western corner of the monastery and well up the slope of the Dolmai-ri, whence we obtained a good view of the whole of Tashilhunpo monastery, the adjacent villages and mountains.
We now turned to the north-east along a narrow rocky path, which brought us behind the Nyag-khang. I was surprised to notice among the rocks some willows (chyang-ma) in flower, and we saw also the impress of hoofs on the rocks, left there, the Tung-chen said, by the chargers of some Bodhisattvas; rang chyung, or "naturally produced," the Tibetans say of such marvels. There were several half-starved pariah dogs lying about, who looked at us with sleepy eyes, and the Tung-chen remarked that in all probability they had been sinful gelong (monks) in some former existence, and were now expiating their evil deeds. He much regretted that we had not brought some balls of tsamba for them.
Some 200 paces farther on in the same direction we came to a huge stone building called Kiku-tamsa. It is about 60 paces in length and 30 in breadth, and I counted nine stories in it. Though it is upwards of two hundred years old, it is still in excellent repair. Captain Turner made a sketch of it in 1783,[10] but he mistook it for "a religious edifice." It is at present used as a godown for dried carcasses of yaks, sheep, and goats. Every year, in the latter part of November, all the sacred pictures of the Labrang are hung up on this building for the benefit of the people, who, by touching these paintings with their foreheads, receive the blessings of the gods they represent.[11]
On our way down to the eastern gateway of Tashilhunpo we met two Ladaki Tibetans, who told us that they had just come from the Chang-tang, or the desert in the north-western part of Tibet.[12]
The Tung-chen showed me the Dongtse Kham-tsan, where the people of Dongtse and neighbourhood put up. We also saw a juniper bush planted by Gedun-dub, the founder of Tashilhunpo, in which that saintly lama's hair is said to still exist.[13] I had pointed out to me, as we walked along the spacious buildings of the Taisamling college, the Kyil khang Ta-tsan and the Shartse college.
The descent to the foot of the hill proved very steep, but all along it we found rows of prayer-wheels, which we put in motion as we passed; near the gateway, and beside a mendong, there were two dozen of them together.
Passing by the main Mani lha-khang, we reached the eastern gateway of Tashilhunpo. Over it is a notice forbidding smoking within the monastery, for both the red and yellow-hat schools of lamaism strongly denounce tobacco-smoking by monks.
From this gateway a road leads south to the Kiki-naga, where the Grand Lama’s mother resides, while another runs westward to the court of the Tashi lama, or Labrang gyal-tsan tonpo.
It was dusk when we had finished our walk around the monastery, and lamps were already burning in many of the houses to bid farewell to the old year.
February 19, New Year’s Day.[14]—The preparations for the day’s celebration commenced before dawn, and the noise of the blowing of the kitchen fires never ceased, as there were many dishes and dainties to be got ready for the dinner the minister was to give to a large party of nobles and incarnate lamas.
When the minister came back from visiting the Grand Lama, he told me that the latter had inquired about me, as he had some translation into Sanskrit which he desired I should make for him. "His holiness," the minister said, "has given me a hundred and twenty titles of chapters of a work he has written, and wishes you to put them into Sanskrit for him." The minister further said that when I had finished this work he would present me to the Grand Lama.
The next day the minister was called to Dongtse by the illness of the Dahpon Phala’s wife; his prayers, it was hoped, would restore her to health. About a week after his departure he was suddenly recalled by the Grand Lama, with whom he had, on March 3, a long conference. The Dalai lama’s Government had protested against the Tashi lama having taken the vows of monkhood from the Sakhya Pan-chen, a red-hat lama, the hierarch of the Sakhya school. The Dalai lama charged him with encouraging heresy, if not with being a heretic himself. It was for this reason that the Tashi lama had not been invited to ordain the supreme ruler of Tibet, for, belonging to the Gelugpa or yellow-hat school, the Dalai lama could have no connection with the school of which the Sakhya Pan-chen was the chief.
On March 4 the minister ordained some forty monks gelong. Formerly the Grand Lama used to perform this ceremony himself, but he has now delegated a large portion of his religious duties, including ordination, to the minister.[15]
Two days after this the minister was again asked to go to Dongtse, as the wife of the Dahpon was still ill, and he (the Dahpon) had orders to proceed at once to Lhasa. The minister asked me if I would accompany him, and I readily assented, as it would enable me to make arrangements for my journey to Lhasa during the next summer.
On March 7 we started, and reached Tashigang the same day. Some of the people we passed were already ploughing, and the trees showed signs of budding.
The next day we reached Dongtse by 4 o'clock in the afternoon. We found the Dahpon's wife, a lady of about thirty, and his sister, Je-tsun Kusho, in the central room of the fifth floor of the castle (phodrang).
The Lhacham was dressed in a Mongol robe; on her head was a crown-shaped ornament studded with precious stones and pearls of every size. Pearl necklaces, strings of amber and coral hung over her breast, and her clothes were of the richest Chinese satin brocades and the finest native cloth.[16] The Je-tsun Kusho, an elderly woman and a nun, was dressed very plainly; but, though nuns all shave their heads, she wore all her hair. She belonged, it appears, to the Nyingma school, which allows nuns certain privileges, this one among others.[17]
The following day I prescribed some medicines for Je-tsun Kusho, who was suffering from bronchitis, and four days later I administered some to the Dahpon's wife, who had had until then a lama from the Tse-chan monastery attending her. My medicines did her no good, and at this the minister appeared much concerned. I tried a second dose, but with like absence of effect. In fact, the Lhacham felt worse, and said that evil stars were in the ascendant in her quarter of the sky (khams), and would work her ruin. Some people, she said, insisted she was being persecuted by evil spirits who had followed her here from Tingri (Djong), but she did not believe it; it was the stars which were against her. The minister looked at me and asked me how it was that my medicines were unavailing in the Lhacham's case. In the midst of a dead silence I told him that all the medicines which different persons had administered to the patient were affecting her nervous system, each in a different way. I had heard her say that she had first taken those of a Chinese quack, then those of a Nepalese physician, and lastly the medicines of several learned lama doctors. Under the circumstances I should not have prescribed for her at all, but that as every one had expected me to do something for her, I had ceded to their wishes. It was, however, my opinion that if the Lhacham would be cured, the only medicine she required was no medicine at all.
Under this new treatment, which she promptly adopted, there was a marked improvement in the Lhacham's health within the next ten days. I used frequently to talk with her, and she seemed to entertain a kind regard for me. One day the minister suggested in her presence that it would be a good thing if I could be sent to Lhasa to see the Lord Buddha, the incarnate Shenrezig, the Dalai lama. The Lhacham approved the suggestion, and promised to have me lodged in her residence at Lhasa, and to take me under her protection while there.
On March 23 I left Dongtse for Tashilhunpo. On the way to Tashigang we saw lambs picking the young shoots of grass, and the country folk were busy in the fields with their yaks, which were decorated with red, yellow, blue, and green hair tassels, and collars of coloured wool, and cowries. The farmers hold certain religious ceremonies on beginning ploughing and on first putting the yokes (nya-shing) on their yaks. They also have at this time most amusing ploughing races.
Beyond Norbu khyung-djin we saw, as we rode along, afar off on a slope of rock, incised in gigantic characters, the sacred formulae, Om vajra pani hum, om wagishvari hum, om ah hum, etc.
The next day, at 3 p.m., just as we reached the house of the Deba Shika, there was quite a heavy fall of snow. On the 25th we arrived at Tashilhunpo, and I once more took up my interrupted historical studies.