e were sunburnt, and we wore turbans and
snow-glasses, so the Tibetans departed under the impression that our
party consisted of a Hindoo doctor, his brother, and a caravan of
servants (none of whom had seen a sahib coming), and that we were now on
a pilgrimage to the sacred Mansarowar Lake and Kelas Mount.

Before the men we treated this as a great joke, but, all the same, Wilson
and I anxiously consulted as to our immediate plans. Should we make a
rapid march during the night over the mountain range to our right, and
strike east by the jungle, or should we face the Gyanema leader and his
soldiers?

We decided to meet them rather than go out of our way, and I gave orders
to raise camp immediately.

CHAPTER XXVII

Lama Chokden--A Tibetan guard--The sacred Kelas--Reverence of my
men for the Sacred Mountain--Trying hard to keep friends with the
gods--_Obos_--Water flowing to us.

WE altered our course from N. to N.E., rising to 16,600 feet, and leaving
the high tableland to the west. We arrived at Lama Chokden (or Chorten),
a pass protected by a Tibetan guard, who quickly turned out, matchlocks
in hand, as we approached. They seemed a miserable lot, and not only
offered no resistance, but actually begged for money and food. They
complained of ill-treatment by their superiors, stating that they
received no pay, and even food was only occasionally sent to them at this
outpost. Their tunics were in rags; each man carried a sword stuck in
front through the girdle. Here, too, we had more inquiries about the
young sahib, as messengers on horseback had been sent post-haste from
Taklakot to warn the Gyanema officer not to let him penetrate into
Hundes[15] by the Lumpiya Pass, should he attempt it. Their description
of my supposed appearance was very amusing, and when they said that if
the sahib came they would have to cut his head off, I felt so touched by
their good-natured confidence that I wanted to distribute a few rupees
among them.

"Do not give them anything, sir," said Kachi and the doctor. "These
fellows are hand and glove with the bands of dacoits; the latter will
soon be told that we have money, and we shall run great risk of being
attacked at night."

I insisted on giving them a present.

"No, sir," cried Kachi, distressed; "do not do it, or it will bring us no
end of trouble and misfortune. If you give them four annas, that will be
ample."

[Illustration: MY MEN SALAAMING KELAS AT L