In the forbidden land : $b an account of a journey into Tibet, capture by the Tibetan lamas and soldiers, imprisonment, torture and ultimate releaseLandor, Arnold Henry Savage
History
In the forbidden land : $b an account of a journey into Tibet, capture by the Tibetan lamas and soldiers, imprisonment, torture and ultimate release
Landor, Arnold Henry Savage
Tibet Autonomous Region (China) -- Description and travel
In spite of the extravagant terms of friendship which fell from the
Tarjum's lips, I was convinced, by close observation of the man's face,
that his words were insincere and that it would be unsafe to trust him.
He never looked us straight in the face; his eyes were fixed on the
ground all the time, and he spoke in a despicably affected manner. I did
not like the man from the very first, and, friend or no friend, I kept my
loaded rifle on my lap.
[Illustration: THE ARRIVAL OF REINFORCEMENTS]
After endless ponderous speeches, clumsy compliments, and tender
inquiries after all relations they could possibly think of; after tiring
parabolic sentences with fine sounds but no meaning; after repeated
blowing of the nose and loud coughing, which always came on opportunely
when we asked whether they had yet come to a conclusion as to what we
should be allowed to do, at last, when my patience was nearly exhausted,
our negotiations of the previous day were reopened. We argued for hours.
We asked to be allowed to go on. They were still uncertain whether they
would let us or not. To simplify matters, and hasten their decision
before other reinforcements arrived, the doctor applied for permission to
let only eight of us proceed to Mansarowar. He (the doctor) himself would
remain at Gyanema with the remainder of the party as a guarantee of
good faith. But even this offer they rejected, not directly, but with
hypocritical excuses and delays, for they thought we would not find our
way, and that if we did, we should find it very rough, and the climate
too severe; that the brigands might attack us, and so on, and so on. All
this was very tiresome, and there were signs even of a nasty side to
their attitude. I decided to know what I was about.
Still holding the rifle cocked at safety on my lap, I turned the muzzle
of it towards the Tarjum, and purposely let my hand slide down to the
trigger. He became uncomfortable and his face showed signs of wild
terror. His eyes, until now fixed upon the ground, became first unsteady,
and then settled fixedly, and with a look of distress, on the muzzle of
my rifle. At the same time he tried to dodge the aim right or left by
moving his head, but I made the weapon follow all his movements. The
Tarjum's servants fully shared their master's fear. Without doubt the
poor fellow was in agony; his tone of voice, a moment before boisterous
and aggressive, now dwindled into the humblest intonations imaginable.
With much meekness he expressed himself ready to please us in every way.
"I see that you are good people," said he in a faint whisper, accompanied
by a deep bow. "I cannot give, as I would like to do, my official
sanction to your journey forward, but you can go if you wish. I cannot
say more. Eight of you can proceed to the sacred Mansarowar Lake. The
others will remain here."
Before giving his final decision he said that he would prefer to have
another consultation with his officers.
We accorded this readily.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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