Part 34 (1/2)

[Ill.u.s.tration: FLINT-AND-STEEL POUCH]

He told me that large quant.i.ties of these weapons were manufactured at Lha.s.sa and Sigatz (s.h.i.+gatze), and he stated that the majority of Tibetan men outside the towns possess one. Gunpowder was also made with saltpetre and sulphur found in the country.

The Rupun, seeing how quick I was at picking up words, took a special delight in teaching me, as one would a child, the names of the several grades in the Tibetan army. The _Tchu-pun_[29] was the lowest grade, and only had ten men under him; then came the _Kiatsamba-pun_ or _Kia-pun_,[30] or officer in command of one hundred soldiers; and the _Tung-pun_,[31] or head of one thousand. These officers, however, are seldom allowed the full complement of soldiers according to their grade, and very often the ”commander of one thousand” has only under him three or four hundred men at the most. Above the _Tung-pun_ comes the _Rupun_, a kind of adjutant-general; then the _Dah-pun_, or great officer; and highest of all, the _Mag-pun_ (or _Mag-bun_, as it is usually p.r.o.nounced), the general in chief.

The acquaintance of one of these generals we had already made at Gyanema.

Though my informant said that officers are elected for their bravery in time of war and for their strength and apt.i.tude in the saddle and with their weapons, I knew well enough that such was not the case. The posts are mainly given to whoever can afford to pay most for them, and to men of families under special protection of the Lamas. In many cases they are actually sold by auction.

[Ill.u.s.tration: LEATHER HORSE-WHIP]

The method described by the Rupun was nevertheless what is popularly believed by the ma.s.ses of Tibet to be the way in which military officers are chosen.

[29] _Tchu_, ten, _pun_, officer, or officer of ten men.

[30] _Kiatsamba_ or _Kia_ = one hundred.

[31] _Tung_ = one thousand.

CHAPTER LXXIX

Sarcasm appreciated--Kindness--A change for the worse--The place for an Englishman--Vermin--A Tibetan prayer.

THE Rupun possessed a good deal of dry humour, and I told him how fast the Tibetan soldiers had run away on previous occasions when I had met them and had my rifle by me. But he was quite equal to the situation and exclaimed: ”Yes, I know that they ran, but it was not through fear. It was because they did not wish to hurt you.” Upon which I answered that, if that were the case, they need not have run so fast.

The Rupun seemed amused and laughed at my sarcasm. He patted me on the back and said I was right. He professed to be grieved to see me tied up, and said he had received strict orders not to give me food or unloose my bonds.

[Ill.u.s.tration: CHARM-BOX]

The soldiers, who had been listening open-mouthed to the affable and friendly conversation between the Rupun and myself, a practice not common in Tibet between captor and prisoner, followed their chief's example, and from being harsh and rough, turned quite kindly and respectful. They placed a cus.h.i.+on under me and tried to make me as comfortable as they could in the circ.u.mstances.

Towards the evening, however, the Rupun was summoned before the Pombo, and the guard was relieved by a fresh lot of men. This was a change for the worse. Their manner was extremely rough, and they dragged me away from the dignified seat I had occupied in the place of honour in the tent, and knocked me violently down on a heap of dung which they used for fuel.

”That is the place for _plenkis!_” shouted one of the men, ”not in the best part of the tent.”

They pounced upon me roughly, and though I made no resistance whatever, they again tied my feet together, and another rope was fastened round my knees. The ends of these ropes were left long, and each was given in charge of a soldier.

No part of a Tibetan tent is over clean, but the spot where I was to rest for the night was the dirtiest. Bound so tightly that the ropes cut channels in my flesh, it was out of the question to sleep; but tenfold worse than this was the disgusting fact that I soon got covered with vermin, which swarmed in the tent. From this time till the end of my captivity, or twenty-five days later, I suffered unspeakable tortures from this pest. The guards, with their swords drawn, were all round me inside the tent, and others were posted outside.

The night was full of strange events. Shouts could be heard at intervals from a distance outside, and some one of the guard in the tent answered them. They were to keep the men awake and make sure that I was still there. One of the soldiers in the tent revolved his prayer-wheel, muttering the following prayer so often that I learned it by heart:

Sangbo, sangbo Yabni namla dupchenche Yumni sala lockchendir Las.h.i.+n shukpi Kani san Pas.h.i.+n tagpe Kani san Yulo parba palui san Tumlo parba wumboi san La.s.san lussan tamjeh san Chedan Kordan jindan san Takpeh yeiki polloh san Takpeh yonki molloh san Tzurzu Kaghi Tablah san Arah, Banza, Natt.i.tti Jehmi jangla changzalu.

The almost literal translation of the words is this:

Oh, my G.o.d, I confess That my father has gone to heaven, But my mother is at present alive (_lit._ in the house).

First my mother sinned And you took all men to heaven, Then my mother and father sinned and I will go to heaven.

If all other men and I sin, and we withdraw our sins, We are all liable to sin and the wumboo wood absolves (_lit._ washes all) from all sins.