. The many presents his friends offered him before his
departure he "declined to accept, save in the form of sincerely given
pledges" (and the sum of 430 yen, mentioned subsequently).
From a fisherman he exacted the promise to discontinue the cruel habit
of catching fish; from a poultry-man he secured a promise not to kill
fowls; and "from immoderate smokers I asked the immediate
discontinuance of the habit that would end in nicotine poisoning.
About forty persons willingly granted my appeal for this somewhat
novel kind of farewell presents." We are reminded of John Wesley's
exhortations to his followers to abstain from the pernicious habit of
drinking tea--"I proposed it to about forty of those whom I believed
to be strong in faith; and the next morning to about sixty more,
entreating them all to speak their minds freely. They did so; and in
the end saw the good which might ensue." In many moments of dire peril
experienced by the Shramana in Tibet, these "effective" gifts, it
seems, "contributed largely toward my miraculous escapes."
Before he could begin the most arduous part of his journey it was
necessary that he should serve an apprenticeship of no less than three
years in Darjeeling and Nepaul, studying the Tibetan language and
grammar, and Tibetan Buddhism, befriending beggars with the double
object of bestowing charity and gaining information, and ascertaining
the possible routes across the Himalayas. Then one day he was
conducted to the summit of a lofty and unguarded pass, whence, on July
4, 1900, with his luggage on his back, alone, he stepped on to the
soil of Tibet, and entered upon an unknown and apparently interminable
wilderness.
In his wanderings over mountains, deserts, and rivers there was no
form of hardship and danger which he had not to encounter. Now he
spent a night in the open, nearly frozen by snow, the pain of the cold
being interrupted only by the abstraction of "meditation" and the joy
of composing _utas_ (short poems). Now he was nearly drowned in
fording a river, from which he was saved at the moment he was
expressing a desire to be born again. Now he was overtaken by a
sandstorm, now bereft of his money, now nearly perishing of hunger.
But from every danger he emerged triumphant. When he approached the
tents of nomads or pilgrims and had pointed his staff at the
threatening dogs, he was generally received with hospitality, and on
one occasion he fell in with a party of robbers who w
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