Chapter 2

The Gods of the Chang Tang

Ahead, just beyond the main ford of the Kyi Chu, lay a grove of willows stretching down to the river. If Tempu and his servant could reach the shelter of the trees, they had a chance to lose their pursuers in the gray half-light. As the two fugitives dashed up the riverbank, they were momentarily hidden from the shouting soldiers. Savagely Tempu swung his horse off the road into the sheltering willows. Before his horse had stopped, he leaped into the first large tree he found, then whipped his riderless horse along the trail again. He could hear his servant crashing through the undergrowth, dragging his horse out of sight.

They were not a moment too soon, for as Tempu's horse galloped off along the trail the horsemen flashed by. Tempu and his servant leaped on the hidden horse, recrossed the trail, and moved quickly along the riverbank. The horse, a large bay, snorted in protest at carrying two riders on his back, but he managed to maintain a steady canter. They headed for a little-used ford across the Kyi Chu River, which foamed between banks of gray granite.

Several miles west of Lhasa the fugitives recrossed the Kyi Chu River where it curved to the south. Here the road from the city divided, one road leading south toward India, the other stretching across the Nyenchentangla Range toward the bleak Chang Tang plateau. They took the northern road. Soon they left the main road and took a trail which followed a turbulent mountain stream up a narrow canyon. The steep canyon walls kept pressing them toward the swift current, but they gave the horse his head and let him follow the trail.

On the afternoon of the second day the fugitives found that the trail left the stream and climbed steeply toward a snowy pass. The freshly fallen snow muffled the hooves of the bay stallion as he struggled up the trail. The horse was having trouble keeping his footing, so the servant slipped to the ground and floundered along behind.

As they climbed the trail, the wind grew stronger. When they reached the top of the pass, the gale forced them to seek shelter behind a rocky outcrop. Tempu stamped his feet wearily to restore circulation. Even now he was not unmindful of the gods of the Chang Tang into whose domain he was intruding. Bending down, he felt for a loose stone to throw on the votive cairn that marked the top of the pass. Hurling the stone through the air, he called on the gods to guide their way and confound their enemies. With a final shout to the gods the two men bowed their heads to the wind, now become a snowstorm, and pushed painfully forward.

"We shall need the gods tonight, master," shouted Chant above the fury of the wind.

"They will have a search party all through the mountains," replied Gergan, "but perhaps they will not venture far into the Chang Tang on a night like this. Only fools like us would venture into this demon-infested wilderness. And if they do follow us, the snow will cover our tracks."

Choni's only reply as the two men stumbled along on the far side of the pass was to chant the traditional prayer of gratitude to the plunging horse,

"Kyan-la mi chi-na to omen;
Turl-la mi papna, mi-men."

"If you do not carry him up the hill you are no horse;
If you do not walk down the hill you are no man."

The trail began to level out as the fugitives neared the edge of a vast plateau stretching to the west. In summer, nomads grazed their sheep and yaks on the short, thick grass that covered much of this area. The kulgars, or wild asses, roamed through the valleys unafraid of men, who respected their right to live. But now, near the end of winter, heavy snows covered these grazing grounds. Few nomads would be found in the hills now, as they moved to the lower valleys for the winter.

"Master, we must find shelter for the night," Choni urged. "We cannot go far tonight. You mount the horse again and let him have his head. With the help of the gods we will find shelter soon."

They stumbled on in the darkness, tripping over rocks and floundering in drifts. At last the horse pricked up his ears and whinnied, then turned off the trail into a ravine that offered some protection from the storm. For a moment both men feared they had stumbled into a hidden camp. They listened for human sounds, but heard only the moaning of the storm.

"Get a light, Choni. There may be shelter near here."

Tempu slid off the horse and brushed the snow off his coat. Choni struck his flint, sending a shower of sparks into a handful of dried moss he had pulled from the folds of his voluminous robe. Blowing carefully on the smouldering moss, he was rewarded with a flicker of flame.

Protecting the flame from the wind, he held it above his head. In the instant before the light was snuffed out, he saw a small cave in the side of the ravine. Tempu now pulled a pine stick from behind the saddle and began to whittle slivers with his knife. Coaxing a flame to life, they ignited the chips, and with the flickering light they discovered a heap of yak dung to burn. How good it felt to warm their frozen bodies by the friendly flames.

From the saddlebag Choni took a small kettle in which to heat rancid butter tea. Never had they enjoyed the warm brew more than that night on the frozen Chang Tang. Mixing tsampa, roasted barley flour, with the scalding tea, they prepared a nourishing meal.

"A thousand curses on the Oracle!" muttered Tempu. "May the demons of Topla curdle his blood! May his lying tongue rot in his mouth!"

"Where will we go now, master?" Choni heaped another handful of dung on the fire. "Where is Kenchung, your steward, with the caravan and the mistress? Are they not headed south toward Bhutan?"

"Yes, but that was only a blind. Kenchung was to turn west and follow the Tsangpo River toward Tashi-Lhunpo. He was to follow a little-used trail above the pilgrim road."

"How will we find them now?" Choni wanted to know. "Is there any way across this wilderness? I have heard that demons roam these hills in winter."

Both men shuddered and moved closer to the fire. Tempu stared into the flames for a moment before replying.

"There is a chance we will find a nomad camp. Some of the nomads stay in the caves through the winter months. If we can get a guide and a couple of good yaks, we may break through to our families. If not-" He shrugged. "Hobble the horse, and let's crawl into the cave for the night and try to get some rest."

The gray dawn was a welcome sight to the fugitives who had dozed fitfully in the cold.

"Have you oats for the horse, Choni?"

"Not much, master. If we don't find the nomads and get food, the horse will perish in this cold."

"It won't only be the horse!" Tempu wondered if they really could hope to survive the Chang Tang wastes.

"Look, master; there's fire over there."

"Yes, Choni; but how do we get over to that valley?"

"I think the trail winds over that way. We shall be able to see from the pass ahead."

As he plodded on, Tempu worried about his wife and the caravan. Could they have reached the mountains before the search party moved on their trail? Would he ever see them again? It was all in the hands of the gods; what was to be, would be, and nothing could change it. Every man must follow the fate marked for him by the stars. Had not his mother told him of ominous signs the day he was born? A crow had picked the eyes out of a newborn calf, and the sun had set blood red.

"Trouble," the old lama had muttered as he had consulted his charts. "This boy will know real trouble!"

"Yes," mused Tempu now. "Trouble has indeed come - and how bitter!"

At last the fugitives stumbled into the nomad camp in a sheltered valley. The nomads had pitched their tents below a rocky shelf adjoining a series of shallow caves in which their animals were sheltered. The tents were woven of yaks' hair; the natural greasiness made them quite water proof.

The two men knew the nomads would be suspicious of strangers; only robbers or fugitives would venture into the Chang Tang in winter. A shaggy mastiff came charging toward them, snarling; but one of the nomads lunged for the dog and with difficulty restrained him.

"We are pilgrims and have lost our way," called Tempu. "May we rest with you a while?"

The nomads surveyed the visitors for a moment and, appearing satisfied that the men were harmless, beckoned them to come. As they entered the main tent, Tempu poked out his tongue in respectful greeting to the old nomad who sat on a saddle pack before a yak-dung fire. A wall about three feet high, built of dried yak dung, stood around the inside wall of the tent. This admirable arrangement worked both as a windbreak and as a handy source of fuel.

After long formalities, lubricated with copious draughts of butter tea, the men finally got down to business.

"You say you are a pilgrim?" The old nomad paused in his noisy drinking to survey his guest. "But pilgrims don't travel this way. And your horse looks quite fresh. You look more like an official to me."

His disguise must not be so good, Tempu thought. He must be careful. Leaning forward, he hissed in respect to the old nomad.

"Really you are very clever. I am a government official on a special mission. We are travelling this way to avoid suspicion. Can you help with yaks and guides? We will reward you well."

The old man still seemed suspicious, but at least, he said, this government official wasn't demanding compulsory animals - ulag - and food in his travelling, as the nobles usually did. So it was settled. A guide would take them through the hills, though the journey would be difficult. The next morning at first light they would leave with four yaks for baggage and riding. Tempu's horse was to be given to the nomads as part of the bargain; it would never survive the trip over the high passes ahead.

Tempu felt more hopeful. "Even yet we may succeed," he confided to Choni.

Farther south, Kenchung the steward hurried with his yak and mule caravan west along the Tsangpo River. He was apprehensive, wondering what had happened to his master. If Tempu Gergan's name had been cleared by the Oracle, they would have known long ago. But no news had come, and this could only mean that the master had also fled. They must push on rapidly to the secret rendezvous near Tashi-Lhunpo.

Droma Tempu's wife, rode toward the back of the caravan, following the servants and most of the animals. They left the main trail and climbed into the mountains where the snow lay deep. The family priest took care to propitiate the gods at every step. His prayer beads slipped rapidly through his fingers while his spinning prayer wheel ground out the eternal "Om mani padme hum." When they came to a mani wall they passed on the left to ensure favour from the gods. At every pass they invoked the gods of the mountains to care for them.

Kenchung was anxious to know what had happened in Lhasa, but he dared not question passing nomads. It would be three weeks before he could reach the agreed meeting place just north of Tashi-Lhunpo. The caravan was up and away before dawn while the snow was frozen hard. By mid-morning the sun turned the valleys into stoves as the hot rays reflected off the miles of snow. Early each afternoon the sky would darken over with storm clouds laden with hall and sleet. The lumbering yaks could travel only a few miles each day when the weather was favourable, but slowly they moved toward the agreed meeting place.

Spring weather brought the thunder of avalanches as the snow melted on the higher peaks. Here and there a patch of green showed above the frozen earth, providing food for wild asses and antelopes. Nomads drove their flocks into the high pasturelands. Far below in the valley, the mighty Tsangpo River foamed milky white with melted snows as it rushed toward the gap in the Himalayas to flow on as the Bramaputra River of India and finally empty in the Bay of Bengal.

In a secluded valley in the mountains, Tempu Gergan sat with his wife and servants recounting what had happened in Lhasa. Was it really only a month since he had fled from the city? The nightmare trip over the Chang Tang had lasted, it seemed, an eternity. How thankful he had been to find his wife and the caravan waiting for him when his plodding yaks crested the last pass. Now he hoped he might settle in Tashi-Lhunpo. He had had enough of travel.

From here the trail dropped swiftly to the river, where travellers ferried over in yak-hide coraclcs. Traders and pilgrims flowed into the city of Shigatse, just beyond which lay the temple city of Tashl-Lhunpo. Almost as famous as Lhasa for its golden temples and magnificent images, the city was revered by every pilgrim to Tibet's holy places.

Tempu sent Kenchung with two other servants to determine whether they might safely enter the city.

"What news from the great city?" Kenchung casually asked the first trader he met.

"They are still mourning the death of the Presence. In fact, the ceremonies will continue another thirty days while they place his embalmed body in the hall of the gods."

"Have they found the culprit yet?"

"The Oracle revealed that it was Tempu Gergan, one of the chief councillors; but he fled from Lhasa before they could lay hands on him. Hundreds of soldiers are searching for him, and there is a price of a thousand silver gormo on his head." The trader leaned closer to Kenchung and spoke in a low voice, "It is rumoured he is somewhere in these parts and may try to enter the city. So the whole place is swarming with soldiers. Wouldn't I like to get my hands on the villain. A thousand gormo - it's a fortune!"

Kenchung had heard enough. The caravan was in immediate danger, so they must clear the district at once. But where could they find safety? The whole country was in an uproar over their escape. Many hinted that Gergan was in league with the devil, who had spirited him awayto safety. Kenchung felt that the only hope was to move back into the hills and follow the Rake Tsangpo River toward the west. If they could reach Kashmir, they would be safe.

When Tempu heard the news, he wondered how he could endure any more travel. Perhaps they should rest a few days before moving on. But thoughts of rest died quickly.

"Master, come quickly!" One of the servants peered anxiously down into the valley and pointed his finger. "Look! A party of mounted men!"

One look revealed that the soldiers were fully armed and moving rapidly. In less than an hour they would overtake Gergan's caravan.

"Quickly! Strike camp! Choni you take the sheep and half the yaks and head westward along the ridge. Kenchung, you take the mules and move north back toward the Chang Tang. The mules will move faster without the yaks. I will take the rest of the caravan and head north-east. If we are surrounded, we must fight it out."

As the caravan fanned into the hills, they heard the shouts of the soldiers as they urged their mountain ponies up the trail.

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