THROUGH THE 
 HEART OF TIBET 
 
 VSl \ 
 
 
 fo 
 
 — 
 
CORNELL 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 THE 
 
 CHARLES WILLIAM WASON 
 
 COLLECTION ON CHINA 
 
 AND THE CHINESE 
 
Date Due 
 
 JjJjt-JHesftr^ 
 
 & 
 
 Cornell University Library 
 DS 785.M12 
 
 Through the heart of Tibet / 
 
 3 1924 023 493 723 
 
The original of this book is in 
 the Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924023493723 
 
Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
"HE WAS LYIXG ON THE FLOOR, BOUND AND HELPLESS" 
 
Through the Heart 
 of Tibet 
 
 BY 
 
 ALEXANDER MACDONALD, F.R.G.S. 
 
 Author of " In the Land of Pearl and Gold " "The White Trail " 
 
 "The Island Traders" "The Pearl Seekers" 
 
 "The Lost Explorers" &c. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BY WILLIAM SAINEY. R.I. 
 
 BLACKIE AND SON LIMITED 
 
 LONDON GLASGOW DUBLIN BOMBAY 
 1910 
 
TO 
 LIEUTENANT E. H. SHACKLETON, M.V.O. 
 
Contents 
 
 Chap. Page 
 
 I. The Mysterious Stranger 9 
 
 II. On the Trail ... ---..30 
 
 III. The Man with the Moonstone S3 
 
 IV. The Comrades Meet 72 
 
 V. The Prince -- ...... 99 
 
 VI. The Eye of the War God - - - - - 120 
 
 VII. Into the Forbidden Land - - - 145 
 
 VIII. The Fight in the Red Monastery ... 171 
 
 IX. Over the Brahmaputra - - - - 198 
 
 X. The Story of the Logon 224 
 
 XI. The Oracle - 248 
 
 XII. The Brigand Chief - - - 270 
 
 XIII. The Fight in the Dark - - 293 
 
 XIV. Lhasa - - 3'6 
 
 XV. Hail to the Dalai Lama! - - - - 335 
 
 XVI. The Secret of the Tomb-Keeper - - 356 
 
 S 
 
Illustrations 
 
 Pag6 
 
 "He was lying on the floor bound and helpless" 
 
 Frontispiece 46 
 
 The Pilgrim Prince 98 
 
 George comes to the Rescue -.-... 167 
 
 George fires at the Agent 196 
 
 "A human head was rising through the aperture" - 262 
 
 " dlop 'em quickly ol i dlopy you " 285 
 
 The Devil Dancers - .... 310 
 
 "a murmur went up from the throng" - - - - 351 
 
 7 
 
CHAPTER I 
 
 The Mysterious Stranger 
 
 It was still early in the forenoon, yet Victoria Station 
 was crowded. Porters laden with suit-cases, handbags, 
 hat boxes, and all the other smaller travelling impedi- 
 menta, struggled through the dense throng towards 
 one of the platforms, where a long, luxuriantly ap- 
 pointed train was being rapidly filled with passengers. 
 This was the usual Thursday P. & O. boat express, 
 due to leave at eleven o'clock, whose passengers, 
 bound for all parts of Egypt, India, China, and 
 Australasia, would reach the great steamer awaiting 
 them at Marseilles some twenty-three hours later. 
 Round the carriage windows gaily dressed groups 
 gathered to exchange a last few words with the 
 friends they were seeing off; yet, but for the signifi- 
 cant labels on the hand baggage, a foreigner might 
 have imagined that an ordinary day excursion train 
 was about to depart for some convenient watering- 
 place. He would have had good reasons for this 
 belief, because of the fact that no heavy baggage was 
 in evidence, nor were there any signs of emotional 
 leave-taking, so common a sight on the Continent at 
 the departure of anyone from hjs native city. The 
 heavier trunks, and other bulkier travelling adjuncts, 
 however, had all been placed on board the steamer 
 before she had left Tilbury Docks, as the French 
 
io Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 train de luxe with which the Victoria express con- 
 nected, by means of the Channel steamer, did not 
 encumber itself with anything likely to cause delay, 
 unless registered through to the steamer at Marseilles, 
 and then only at an almost prohibitive cost. And 
 as for leave-takings— well— the British Empire is so 
 scattered over the earth's surface that her children 
 have long since ceased to regard the fact of leaving 
 one part of it for another as leaving home; most 
 look upon a journey from London to Sydney in 
 much the same light as one between London and 
 Edinburgh. 
 
 Among those on the platform waiting to see the 
 train depart was George Gray, a pleasant-faced youth 
 of about eighteen years of age. He had no friends 
 in the train, and at the moment he felt that he had 
 none anywhere. The engineering firm, in whose 
 service he had been employed, had recently been 
 forced by stress of circumstances to close their doors, 
 and George was consequently out of employment, 
 with little hope of finding anything to do while the 
 prevailing bad times lasted. He had inherited from 
 his father an intense longing for travel, but little 
 else; that gentleman, an officer in the Indian Service, 
 having died while on a surveying mission on the 
 borders of Nepal, leaving a wife and youthful 
 son and daughter very inadequately provided 
 for. 
 
 George realized keenly his responsibilities as head 
 of the little household left. He knew travel was not 
 for him unless it could be made to pay, and had 
 therefore done his utmost to support his mother and 
 sister by the prosaic profession of engineering. Still, 
 he had not given up hope of ever being able to see 
 the world, and he frequently found himself down at 
 
The Mysterious Stranger n 
 
 the Royal Albert, Tilbury, and other docks, watching 
 the steamers leave for all ends of the earth, saying 
 to himself that some day he would be on board one 
 of them. He likewise often frequented the stations 
 whence the boat trains departed, and knew very well 
 the times of such trains, their routes, connections, 
 and ships with which they ran in conjunction. This 
 morning he had been wandering aimlessly about the 
 streets, wondering where he should find his next 
 situation, and, suddenly noting that he was in the 
 vicinity of the great station, he had obeyed his natural 
 impulse and entered it. 
 
 For over half an hour he had been watching the 
 passengers, at first few in number, but now as the 
 hour of departure drew near, monopolizing the station, 
 with their friends. As the variously labelled luggage 
 passed him, George's thoughts flew ahead to the 
 many destinations, and almost as in a dream he saw 
 in rapid succession the streets of cosmopolitan Cairo, 
 the sun-scorched rocks of Aden, the bazaars of Bom- 
 bay and Calcutta, tea-growing gardens in Ceylon, 
 the graceful pagodas of Burmah and Siam, and the 
 crowded, picturesque thoroughfares of Singapore, 
 Hong Kong, and Yokohama. Then suddenly he 
 would find himself in Collins Street, Melbourne, 
 admiring the beautiful buildings, and when next 
 moment a porter bearing some baggage marked 
 Sydney would pass, the glorious harbour of that 
 city would flash out before him as on a bioscope 
 screen. The goldfields of Kalgoorlie had just become 
 merged into a dense kauri-gum forest, suggested by 
 an Auckland-bound package passing before his un- 
 consciously seeing eyes, when with a start he was 
 roused from his day-dreams, to find himself standing 
 on the platform and all the passengers in the train. 
 
i2 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 The guard was standing watch in one hand and little 
 green flag in the other, ready to give the starting 
 signal when the* exact moment of eleven was reached, 
 and already the many groups of friends were stand- 
 ing back from the train. Another second and the 
 sign would have been given, but, just as he was 
 in the act of raising his flag, a porter ran up to 
 a reserved compartment, and bundled in some suit- 
 cases marked Calcutta. He was followed by a care- 
 fully dressed gentleman of about thirty-three or 
 thirty-four years of age, whose bronzed face pro- 
 claimed him at once to be one accustomed to hot 
 climates, while his broad shoulders, springy step, 
 and general air of coolness, showed him as one who 
 could easily take care of himself, and who had full 
 confidence in his own abilities to do so. All eyes 
 were now turned on this individual, who had dared 
 to cause a delay of some seconds at the beginning of 
 a journey which, in some cases, would only finish 
 when the globe was encircled and the voyagers back 
 again in London ; but he did not seem to mind in the 
 slightest, and, leisurely applying a lighted match to 
 a cigar, he stepped into the carriage. 
 
 " Confounded cheek," muttered someone near 
 George. " He'll be some star actor going out some- 
 where or other, and that is his way of introducing 
 himself." 
 
 " I'll cut him dead on the boat," the friend of the 
 speaker answered from the train, "I have met his 
 kind before. He'll want to run the ship, if he's not 
 seasick." 
 
 But the great Marseilles express was now in motion, 
 and amidst cries of " Cooee" from the platform, 
 clearly showing that Australia was the destination of 
 the bulk of the passengers, it glided slowly, smoothly, 
 
The Mysterious Stranger 13 
 
 and noiselessly past the long line of handkerchief- 
 waving humanity. 
 
 "That last fellow was a bit theatrical," George 
 muttered to himself, as the carriage containing the 
 person to whom he referred slipped past him. "I 
 suppose he wanted to draw attention to himself for 
 some purpose or other — Hullo! " 
 
 The interjection was occasioned by the fact that two 
 men were running along the platform, and, despite 
 the warning cries from the station officials, and some 
 shouts from the people near, who expected to witness 
 a tragedy, were making a determined attempt to 
 board the now swiftly moving train. And they suc- 
 ceeded, each gaining the compartment immediately 
 behind that occupied by the cool gentleman, who had 
 first caused the train's delay. George had a good 
 look at the men as they passed him, and noted that 
 their faces were distinctly of an Oriental type, but 
 as there were, doubtless, many on board of Eastern 
 nationality, that was not in any way surprising. 
 Afterwards he remembered that they were unencum- 
 bered with even handbags, but as it was no business 
 of his whether people elected to travel round the 
 world with a steamer load of trunks, or with nothing 
 at all, he did not see any significance in the fact. 
 The crowd was now leaving the station, and soon 
 the boy was almost alone. Then the knowledge 
 of his position, which for the time he had forgotten, 
 came back upon him with overwhelming force, and 
 he remembered that he was in the heart of the world's 
 greatest city without a single friend other than his 
 mother and sister. And these two were in his charge, 
 and he was out of employment. 
 
 Despair seized the lad in her grim clutches, and he 
 groaned aloud. "Anywhere but in London I might 
 
i 4 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 be of some use," he muttered helplessly. " But here 
 no one needs me; I am one too many." 
 
 And indeed it seemed that he was; for were there 
 not hundreds, yes, hundreds of thousands in London 
 just such as he, and endowed with much the same 
 qualification? He was talented, had enjoyed a first- 
 class education, and was gifted with wonderful phy- 
 sical strength for his years. He was also brave and 
 self-reliant, although his confidence in himself was 
 now being severely taxed. No one required his ser- 
 vices, and no one cared what became of him. In 
 point of fact the world did not know of his existence, 
 and would not miss him, should he become engulfed 
 in the dark and silent sea of oblivion, whose tide for 
 ever ebbs and flows in the heart of all great cities, 
 gathering in to the sullen depths the despairing, 
 the unfortunate, and those in whom all hope is 
 dead. 
 
 But hope was not yet dead in the heart of George 
 Gray. Youth was on his side, and soon its enthusiasm 
 came to his rescue, and pulled him from his gloomy 
 reverie. "After all," he said, turning to walk out of 
 the station, "I haven't so very much to complain of, 
 and perhaps there really is a fate in all things, as my 
 old schoolmaster used to say. Who knows but that 
 I am destined to get some position soon which I could 
 never have known of had I not been idle?" 
 
 The thought was pleasing, and George's spirits 
 rose at once in response. " I'd better go home now, 
 and see what mother and Mary are doing," he con- 
 tinued, pausing near a bookstall to look at the dis- 
 played pictures in some of the illustrated weeklies on 
 sale. "It may even turn out that my coming into this 
 station was not so objectless as it seems. By Jupiter ! 
 I never thought of papers before. There may be 
 
The Mysterious Stranger 15 
 
 some positions advertised in them which would suit 
 me. 
 
 Quickly making himself the possessor of one of the 
 leading dailies, he retired to a seat and opened it 
 eagerly at the advertisement pages. Then he gave 
 a cry of delight. Almost the first lines which caught 
 his eyes were as follows : — 
 
 Wanted 
 
 A few men, with some engineering and mineralogical 
 knowledge, to take part in a dangerous secret expedi- 
 tion. Applicants should be able to ride and shoot, and 
 must be prepared to take an oath of secrecy. No wages 
 will be paid, but any cash advance required by selected 
 men will be given, pending division of profits. Apply 
 
 personally, to Messrs. Deverell & Son, Broad 
 
 Street. 
 
 George folded the paper, and gave himself up to 
 reflection for some minutes. Finally he rose and 
 walked out of the station, and about half an hour 
 later he entered the offices of Messrs. Deverell & Son. 
 He found himself in a large room, divided in two 
 by a counter, which separated visitors from the army 
 of clerks working at several high desks behind. 
 George noticed that a number of doors opened off 
 this general room, but one of the clerks came forward 
 to ask his business, before he had completed his sur- 
 vey of the place. 
 
 " I have come in answer to your advertisement for 
 men for a secret expedition," the lad said, in answer 
 to the immaculately dressed young man who con- 
 fronted him. 
 
 This gentleman raised his eyebrows. "Applicants 
 must call in person," he said shortly, and was turning 
 away, as if his words had finished the business, when 
 George put in: "I have called in person." 
 
16 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 "What!" cried the clerk in astonishment, staring 
 at the speaker. " You don't mean to say you are an 
 applicant ? " 
 
 " I have said so." 
 
 "But you are only a kid. It's men who are 
 wanted." 
 
 " I can do all that most men can do, and I am not a 
 kid. I am past eighteen. Are you the advertiser?" 
 
 "Am I Mr. Deverell? Ha! ha! I wish I was." 
 The man's mirth was almost uproarious. "Come 
 here, boys," he suddenly said to his companions, who 
 by this time had all ceased their work, to see what 
 was the cause of their friend's merriment. " Here is 
 the latest desperate adventurer London can turn out. 
 He is thirsting for a chance to lead a Revolution, 
 or to carry off a Princess, and, singlehanded, is 
 ready to fight anyone and everyone who dares to 
 cross his glorious path." 
 
 "Oh, dry up, Smith," one of the men interrupted. 
 "You have read plenty of sensational penny literature 
 yourself in your time. Give the kid a chance." 
 
 "All right!" Smith answered with a grin, "I sup- 
 pose it is only natural that a young hero like this 
 should have a desire to leave the sordid city for a life 
 in the boundless bush. But say, Mr. Death-Shot 
 Dan, the grisly ghost of Gory Gulch, you haven't 
 introduced yourself yet. We too are sons of the 
 glorious wilds, and brother bushrangers. We are 
 
 all in disguise just now, for hearken " He bent 
 
 over the counter and hissed hoarsely: — "When next 
 the blood -red moon is full the signal forth shall go, 
 and the Bold Bad Bushmen of Broad Street shall 
 steal out into the night and hie them to a cheap tea 
 shop. Then let London beware. Better for its proud 
 citizens had the German balloon fleet captured the 
 
 (09) 
 
The Mysterious Stranger 17 
 
 Central Tube Railway, for " The bold bad bush- 
 man paused abruptly, and his face lost all colour. 
 He had somehow become aware that his comrades 
 were all assiduously working in their appointed 
 places, paying no attention to him, and well he 
 knew the meaning of the ominous silence which 
 prevailed. 
 
 " What — what did you say your business was, 
 sir?" he stammered, fearing to look round. 
 
 " I have called in answer to an advertisement in to- 
 day's paper concerning a secret expedition," George 
 answered, slightly amused at the sudden change in 
 the clerk's demeanour, all occasioned by the appear- 
 ance of an elderly gentleman in one of the doorways 
 leading from the room. 
 
 "I shall inform Mr. Deverell " 
 
 "Yes, Smith, I think it is about time you did," 
 spoke the. elderly gentleman. " Show the lad in, and 
 afterwards I'll think what should be done with such 
 a desperate person as you must be. Really I was 
 not aware that my office sheltered the BoM Bad 
 Bushmen of Broad Street." 
 
 The valiant Smith made no reply to his employer's 
 sarcastic remarks, but quietly led George past the 
 desks of his grinning fellow clerks to Mr. Deverell's 
 room. 
 
 "I say," he whispered, as he ushered the lad in, 
 " I was only in fun, you know, but you'll never do 
 for the expedition. The other fellows are all hardened 
 world wanderers, and I tell you straight, their looks 
 were enough for me. They'll eat you, I'm sure, if 
 they run short of stores." 
 
 " I'll chance that if I am taken on,'* laughed George. 
 " I think I can take care of myself." 
 
 Next moment the door closed behind him, and he 
 
 (09) 2 
 
1 8 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 was in the presence of the great city magnate, Mr. 
 Deverell. This gentleman did not even look up as 
 the boy entered; evidently he had wasted too much 
 valuable time in listening to his clerk's surprising 
 disclosures. 
 
 George was puzzled to account for the manner of 
 his reception, but concluding that a city man's time 
 was of such value that only a second or so at odd inter- 
 vals, or while his hand was writing some sentences 
 that did not require much brain effort to direct, could 
 be given to him, he walked up to a large map of India 
 hanging near, and studied it intently. He did not 
 know that the gentleman, apparently so absorbed 
 over a letter, was watching him closely, and subject- 
 ing him to an analysis which few men could have 
 withstood, and which only a deep student of human 
 nature could have made. For fully five minutes this 
 silent one-sided war went on, the subtle - brained 
 city man trying to find the weak points in the un- 
 sophisticated pure-minded boy before him, who was 
 not even on his guard. 
 
 At length Mr. Deverell laid down his pen, and 
 said: "Well, what do you want?" 
 
 The words were said in a tone of voice calculated 
 to inspire awe in the heart of the hearer ; but George 
 merely thought that the life of a great city man must 
 be very unpleasant, if it gave such a hardness to his 
 speech. 
 
 " I want to join your secret expedition," he replied 
 promptly, leaving the map and walking up to Mr. 
 Deverell's desk. 
 
 " Indeed! Do you know its object?" 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 " Where it is going?" 
 
 " No, sir; I know nothing whatever about it." 
 
The Mysterious Stranger 19 
 
 " Why do you wish to join it?" 
 
 "Because I think I have all the required qualifica- 
 tions, and the advertisement implied that there might 
 be profits, an advance on which I might be allowed 
 to leave my mother." 
 
 "I see." Mr. Deverell thought for a moment. 
 "Then you don't care where the expedition is being 
 sent, nor for what purpose?" 
 
 " Not much, sir, so long as it is for no purpose to 
 which my conscience would object." 
 
 " Oh, have you a conscience?" 
 
 "Well, sir, I have a something within me which 
 tells me the difference between right and wrong. 
 Anything that is right I will do regardless of per- 
 sonal risk, but that which my conscience says is 
 wrong I cannot undertake." 
 
 "Ah! and where do you draw the dividing line?" 
 Mr. Deverell's tones were slightly cynical. 
 
 "As I have said, sir, between right and wrong, 
 according to my own judgment, or instinct, or by 
 whatever other name you like to call conscience." 
 
 " I understand, and I am afraid you are of no use 
 to me. The members of the expedition I am fitting 
 out must have only one conscience among them, and 
 that is the one which governs the actions of the leader. 
 It is not a Sunday-school picnic I am equipping." 
 
 "Are you the leader, sir?" 
 
 "No, I am the man who is financing it. But get 
 away now, you won't do." 
 
 " I think I will. You misunderstood what I said 
 about my conscience. The first thing it gives me is 
 a sense of duty, and my first duty is absolute loyalty 
 to whoever is in charge of the expedition." 
 
 "Boy," thundered Mr. Deverell, "how dare you 
 talk to me in that lecturing fashion? Do you not 
 
20 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 know that most people who come into this room are 
 afraid to speak. I generally do all the talking, and 
 usually my words are too much to the point to make 
 my visitors feel happy." 
 
 " But I am not afraid of you, sir. I know you are 
 one of those great capitalists who provide the money 
 for big schemes and foreign governments, but I am 
 not asking any favour from you. I am simply offer- 
 ing my services to you to help in carrying out what 
 seems to be your own scheme. I am sorry you do 
 not think me suitable. Good morning!" 
 
 "Stay!" cried the financier, as George turned to 
 the door. "You have not left your name." 
 
 "Why should I?" George asked calmly; "you 
 haven't employed me." 
 
 "Still, I have a desire to know who you are. 
 Naturally I wish to know everyone who is interested 
 in this expedition." 
 
 "But I am not interested, sir. It is nothing to 
 me. I will find something else to take up my 
 time." 
 
 Mr. Deverell seemed to be reflecting. "Can you 
 ride and shoot?" he asked abruptly. 
 
 "Yes," George answered, hope again rising in his 
 heart, " I can both ride and shoot." 
 
 " Have you any knowledge of minerals?" 
 
 "Mineralogy has been my hobby, but I have had 
 no chance to study the rarer metals." 
 
 "But you know gold, silver, and copper, I pre- 
 sume?" Mr. Deverell's tones were now almost en- 
 couraging. 
 
 "Oh, yes, sir, and nearly all the precious stones 
 besides." 
 
 " Can you talk any languages?" 
 
 "Only Hindustani." 
 
The Mysterious Stranger 21 
 
 " WhatI Do you understand Hindustani?" 
 
 " Fairly well, sir. You see my father was an officer 
 in the Indian Military Service, and I spent my early 
 years in India." 
 
 "And your name is ?" 
 
 "George Gray." 
 
 Again Mr. Deverell paused, as if in thought, and 
 George fancied his chances of joining the expedition 
 were hopeful. 
 
 "Well," Mr. Gray," the financier said, apparently 
 as the result of his thought, "lam sorry to tell you 
 that you are too young for my purposes. It is hard- 
 ened men we want, not schoolboys." 
 
 " But, sir, I will undertake to do everything a man 
 twice my age can do." 
 
 " Possibly, although I venture to doubt your powers 
 of endurance." 
 
 " I am willing to take the risk." 
 
 "And there is another reason, Mr. Gray, why you 
 cannot join this expedition." 
 
 " If it is no better than the first reason, sir, I don't 
 wish to hear it." 
 
 "It is because the expedition has already gone. Its 
 members left Victoria Station for Marseilles this fore- 
 noon, and by this time are crossing the Channel, if 
 not already on French soil." 
 
 " Then why didn't you tell me that at first, sir? It 
 would have saved your time." 
 
 "Well, it is not every day I meet anyone in here 
 as independent as you, and I rather enjoyed our con- 
 versation. I had also the duty of finding out if you 
 were honest in your desire to join the openly adver- 
 tised dangerous mission, or whether you were not 
 a spy in the payment of some inquisitively-minded 
 people." 
 
22 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 "So you kept me talking here, knowing all the 
 time I couldn't join the expedition?" 
 
 " I did, for the reasons just stated; but if, as I have 
 gathered, you are out of employment, and thus forced 
 to take a hand in any enterprise which offers a return 
 for your services, I can do something for you." 
 
 " Thanks, but I am not asking for charity." George 
 was very indignant. 
 
 "Nor are you being offered it. I am dispensing 
 with Smith's services — that gentleman whom you first 
 saw — and I am now giving you the vacancy. A smart 
 young man like you will soon pick up all the special 
 knowledge required in my office. Will you take it?" 
 
 " No, sir, and I am very sorry if I have given you 
 the impression that I would. I will not take up more 
 of your valuable time." 
 
 George once more turned to the door. 
 
 "You can get out this way, it will save you from 
 passing through those clothes-props I employ in the 
 outer office," said Mr. Deverell, opening another 
 door which led directly out into the stairway. " I 
 hope you will soon find congenial employment, 
 Mr. Gray; dangerous and secret expeditions are not 
 really in your line. There is bound to be some- 
 thing wrong about them, and that conscience of 
 yours would give you a bad time if you were mixed 
 up in them." 
 
 George passed out, and the door closed behind him. 
 "Why should he offer me that man Smith's place?" 
 he mused going downstairs. " I never told him I 
 was looking for something to do; and, in any case, 
 how could I fill a position in a financier's office? I 
 know nothing about finance, except that my own 
 exchequer is sadly in need of replenishing." 
 
 Had he heard Mr. Deverell's words after the door 
 
The Mysterious Stranger 23 
 
 closed he might have had good reason to ponder still 
 further, but as he was unaware that he had made any- 
 special impression upon the great man, he walked 
 listlessly down Broad Street towards the Bank, with 
 the half intention of going home from the Tube 
 station there. 
 
 On his departure Mr. Deverell went into his outer 
 office and walked over to Smith's desk, thereby 
 causing that gentleman to experience an extremely 
 unpleasant sensation. But his employer's first words 
 dispelled the feeling of anticipated trouble. " Smith," 
 he said, "or Dick Turpin, or whatever your cogno- 
 men happens to be at the present moment, I want 
 you to follow that young lad who has just left my 
 office by the private door. Keep your eye on him 
 all day, find out where he goes, what he does, what 
 people he speaks to, and everything else that there 
 is to be known in connection with him. Above all, 
 don't let him know that he is being watched, and 
 make sure of his address, so that I can call on him 
 afterwards if necessary. His name is George Gray, 
 and that is all I know about him, except that, if he 
 proves to be genuine, and not another agent, he is 
 going to be a member of Tom's expedition." 
 
 "Yes, sir," Smith answered, showing no surprise 
 at the strange nature of his orders. "Is this secret 
 expedition you are behind just now Mr. Tom's?" 
 
 "Smith, your inquisitiveness will bring you to a 
 bad end some day. When you get home to-night 
 pack a handbag, or a collar box, with all the gear 
 you will require for a three weeks' or a month's sea 
 journey." 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 " And don't look so stupid, and don't answer ' Yes, 
 sir,' like a parrot or an hotel waiter." 
 
24 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 " Then get away at once." 
 
 "Yes, sir." Smith seized his hat and literally ran 
 from the room. Mr. Deverell stood by the window, 
 until he saw George in the street beneath, with Smith 
 following apparently unconcernedly some twenty yards 
 behind. 
 
 Meanwhile George, though bitterly disappointed at 
 his non-success, was finding a strange consolation in 
 the fact that he must have seen the secret mission 
 depart, for he had been in the station practically all 
 the time during which the Marseilles boat train was 
 filling. "I wonder who they were?" he said to 
 himself. "There were quite a number of fellows on 
 the train who looked fit for any daring enterprise, but 
 I don't remember seeing a party together, except that 
 theatrical company going out to Melbourne, and there 
 was nothing secret nor mysterious in their move- 
 ments. By Jupiter! that man who boarded the train 
 just as it was leaving was one who seemed exactly 
 cut out for some risky adventure. I wonder if he 
 was one of the band. Then there were those two 
 foreign-looking fellows who came after him. I be- 
 lieve they must have been members of the party. 
 Ah, well, I'll go and have something to eat, and 
 study the advertisements again ; there may be 
 some other positions advertised, though not secret 
 missions." 
 
 He entered a restaurant, which seemed to be filled 
 with men like Smith. All were about the same age, 
 all were clean shaven and of the same general cast 
 of countenance, and all were dressed alike. The 
 stamp of Broad Street was upon them all. They 
 were human machines, repeating each day with mathe- 
 matical regularity the work they had done the day 
 
The Mysterious Stranger 25 
 
 before, which they would continue to do until 
 some social, or rather commercial, revolution took 
 place. While dining — very humbly, indeed — George 
 scrutinized the advertisements in his paper a second 
 time, and picked out three likely positions he thought 
 he could fill satisfactorily. One of these advertise-, 
 ments was to the effect that some capable engineers 
 were required to fit in and erect plant for a new 
 motor-car factory. The second required a man to 
 go out to Peru to erect smelting furnaces, and other 
 plant for the treatment of complex ores. Incidentally 
 he was also to run the mines when the machinery 
 was erected. The third was a rather vague statement 
 inserted by some scientist, who required the services 
 of a good engineer to complete his patent flying 
 machine. In each case an address was given; indeed, 
 this fact was largely instrumental in bringing about 
 George's choice, for there were many situations in 
 the paper suitable, but with only a number attached. 
 
 Full of confidence, the lad set out to interview the 
 people wanting the motor-car factory engineer. Their 
 office was in the West-end, and he journeyed thither 
 by Tube. Arriving there, he asked to see the man- 
 ager, who, on hearing his business, simply said: 
 "We don't throw our shareholders' money away by 
 allowing boys to play with it," and ordered a clerk 
 to show him out. 
 
 A similar experience befell him the second venture ; 
 and, although he convinced the advertisers that he 
 really knew something about mining plant and had 
 full confidence in himself, they said that they required 
 a man in whom other people would have confidence, 
 and not a boy who would probably die on his way 
 out. 
 
 The third attempt was more promising. He found 
 
26 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 the scientist to be a remarkably pleasant old gentle- 
 man, who at once agreed that George was the very 
 man he wanted. He insisted on showing his wonder- 
 ful machine, but, upon seeing its cumbrous frame- 
 work and flimsy wing arrangement, the lad received 
 another disappointment. He realized it could never 
 fly unless all the known laws of science were suddenly 
 reversed. The scientist was a crank, and knew as 
 much about aerial navigation as an Australian abo- 
 riginal. Under the circumstances George felt that 
 he could not take the position offered, which was that 
 of general assistant to the old gentleman. He excused 
 himself diplomatically and withdrew; and thus, as 
 darkness was slowly enveloping the streets, he was, 
 tired and weary, approaching his home, at war with 
 himself and the world generally. 
 
 " Can there be in all London one so miserable as 
 I?" he exclaimed, as he turned up a quiet street. 
 Only two persons were in sight — a tall powerfully 
 built man in an overcoat a few yards in front of him, 
 and someone in the shadows on the opposite side of 
 the road. 
 
 " What a crime it is to be young," he continued in 
 a lower tone, "and how doubly wrong it is to be 
 poor! There is something wrong with our system 
 of civilization. Why should that man in front walk 
 with that light springy step, as if he found the world 
 a very pleasant place and everything in it agreeable, 
 while I have to drag my feet along because I have 
 found the world is all wrong, and its people all. sharp, 
 soulless men, like that city man I saw this morning, 
 or fools like the flying-machine inventor I have just 
 left?" 
 
 Clearly George was in no pleasant mood, and little 
 wonder, yet he had only experienced that day dis- 
 
The Mysterious Stranger 27 
 
 appointments the like of which fall to the lot of 
 thousands every day. 
 
 And now, in some inexplicable manner, the man 
 in front occasioned his resentment. What right had 
 he to appear so indifferent to the misery of others? 
 A blind man came into view in the light of the street 
 lamp they were approaching. He was feeling his 
 way along the edge of the pavement with a stick, 
 and he certainly looked as if the world's joys were 
 to him a hideous mockery. At once George forgot 
 his own sorrows in his sympathy for the poor human 
 wreck, so painfully coming towards him. " Poor un- 
 fortunate creature!" he exclaimed. " You are indeed 
 
 to be pitied ; even nature has made war with you 
 
 Ah, is that man not going to get out of your way? 
 By Jupiter! I'll knock him down if he so much as 
 touches you in passing." The tall man in the over- 
 coat was bearing down upon the sightless being, as 
 if to crowd him off into the street. George clenched 
 his hands and walked quicker. But he paused sud- 
 denly; the big man was not shouldering the other 
 out of his way. He had stopped and was talking 
 to him. " I see you wish to cross the road, my poor 
 fellow," he was saying. "Come, give me your arm 
 and I'll take you over." The blind man's reply was 
 inaudible, but George witnessed with astonishment 
 the tall stranger gently lead him to safety on the 
 other side of the roadway. The night was cold and 
 rain had begun to fall, and George shivered as, 
 standing against the wall of the houses, he watched 
 the little kindly act. "Poor old man," he muttered. 
 "We have both discovered that there is at least one 
 heart in London not yet turned to stone. But what 
 is he doing now?" 
 
 The stranger had taken off his coat and thrown it 
 
28 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 gently over the old man's shoulders, then with a word 
 or two which the watcher could not hear, he slipped 
 something into the other's hand and started back 
 across the street again. 
 
 George felt an almost irresistible impulse to walk 
 up, and thank the tall stranger. Indeed, he was on 
 the point of doing so when the man stepped into the 
 lamplight, and with a start George recognized the 
 cool individual who had caused a half-minute's delay 
 to the boat train at Victoria Station that morning. 
 
 "I must be dreaming," the lad gasped. "That 
 man was bound for Calcutta, and I saw him away." 
 
 A motor car dashed past at this moment, its head- 
 lights flashing brilliantly and illuminating the whole 
 street. Evidently, however, its driver had made some 
 mistake as to his whereabouts, for the car was turned 
 round, and driven down the street again close in to 
 the pavement on which George was still standing. 
 The tall stranger had meanwhile walked rapidly 
 ahead, as if desirous of reaching shelter as soon as 
 possible, for the rain was now pouring heavily, and 
 he had parted with his coat. As he came opposite 
 the car George saw it stop, and then, almost before he 
 had realized what was happening, he saw two men, 
 who seemed strangely familiar, spring out, seize the 
 stranger, and, after a short struggle, fling him help- 
 lessly inside. Next moment it had flashed down the 
 street, and there was not even one cry for help. 
 George ran up to the spot where the affair had taken 
 place, and stood wondering what he shouid do. That 
 he had been a witness to a dastardly outrage he knew, 
 but the car had gone, and he could not follow it. 
 His feet came into contact with some small object 
 lying on the pavement, and groping for it he picked 
 up a small copper contrivance containing a revolving 
 
The Mysterious Stranger 29 
 
 barrel to which a string was attached. He carried it 
 to the nearest lamp, and saw that on the barrel were 
 engraved some words, and after some difficulty made 
 them out to be : " Om Mani Padmi Hum ". 
 
 "This may be a clue," he said. "But I don't 
 know what these words mean, although I am certain 
 I have come across them before." 
 
 He looked about for a policeman to whom he could 
 tell his story, but none could be found; and after 
 some thought he decided to go home as fast as 
 possible, and see what his mother had to say about 
 the matter. 
 
 A quarter of an hour later he had reached home, 
 and a minute after a shivering figure loitering near 
 remarked to himself: "Well, I've kept him in sight 
 all day, but if this sort of game is to last three weeks 
 there will be nothing of Sherlock Holmes the second, 
 commonly known as William Smith, left." 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 * On the Trail 
 
 When George entered the house he found his mother 
 and sister anxiously awaiting his return. He had 
 been away all day, and this fact occasioned them 
 some alarm, because it was so unusual with him. 
 But all doubts and fears vanished on his appearance, 
 and an air of cheerfulness came over the faces of those 
 dear to him which George could not understand. 
 
 " I've had no luck to-day," he said, as his sister 
 with deft hands arranged the tea-table; " but I've had 
 one or two experiences, and I feel sure that I will soon 
 find suitable employment." 
 
 He spoke hopefully ; he did not believe in carrying 
 his miseries home with him, and he did not wish his 
 mother and sister to know of his disappointments. 
 
 " Never mind looking for employment any far- 
 ther, George," said his sister Mary gaily. "I have 
 arranged everything for you, and you may start on 
 your new duties after tea. You are to invent plots 
 for magazine stories, and I will write them." 
 
 "I am afraid, Mary," laughed George, "there is 
 even more disappointment in store for those who 
 tackle literature as a short cut to fortune than in 
 most other professions. You should know that by 
 this time, seeing you've been scribbling away for 
 about a year now." 
 
On the Trail 31 
 
 "Sit in to tea now, you conspirators," said Mrs. 
 Gray. " George must be hungry, and you can talk 
 over your literary prospects later." 
 
 "Prospects, Mother? What do you mean?" 
 asked George. "Surely you do not take Mary's 
 words seriously?" 
 
 "And why not, sir?" demanded Mary, flourishing 
 a small sheet of notepaper in his face. " Read that! 
 It came by to-night's post." 
 
 George took the note in his hand and read it. It 
 was a partly printed, and partly written, intimation to 
 the effect that the editor of a certain popular magazine 
 had much pleasure in accepting for publication the 
 story sent in by Miss Mary Gray, and would be very 
 glad indeed to entertain favourably any further con- 
 tributions she might care to send him. 
 
 "Why, Mary," George exclaimed, after reading 
 the note, "you'll be famous directly! You are only 
 a girl, and yet you are asked to write for the maga- 
 zines. Dear me! Was it that piece of nonsense 
 you wrote called ' Daisy's Dimple ; that the editor has 
 taken?" George was trying to remember the titles of 
 some of her stories. 
 
 " No, I have stopped writing that sort of thing. 
 The one this note refers to is entitled The Stolen 
 Lama, and it tells how a party of explorers in 
 mysterious Tibet stole the head Lama, and kept 
 him a prisoner, until he issued written orders that 
 a Christian princess, his soldiers had captured some- 
 where, should be set free." 
 
 " But what do you know of Tibet, Mary? And 
 what was a Christian or any other kind of princess 
 doing there herself? And how could the head Lama 
 be stolen?" 
 
 "There you go now — just like a man. This is 
 
32 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 only a story, and not supposed to be true. I don't 
 know anything about Tibet, except what I remember 
 Father telling us. He told us about the Lamas, and 
 temples cut out in solid rock, mysterious Chinese 
 princesses, and lots of other things; also, that no 
 European was allowed to enter the country, and that 
 it was very rich in gold and precious stones. Well, 
 The Stolen Lama is just a story built upon all this; 
 and, as you see, the editor wants more. Why, 
 how quiet you are! Have you got some good mys- 
 terious plots already? We'll make fortunes out of 
 them, George. Tell me one, quick." 
 
 "I don't know that there is any plot about the 
 affair suitable for a story, Mary, but I will tell you 
 my experiences of to-day, and your fertile brain can 
 spin something, out of them. I say, Mother, what 
 is the meaning of Om Mam Padmi Hum'? It 
 sounds a bit like Hindustani, but I can't make it 
 out." 
 
 Mrs. Gray looked up and smiled. "That is the 
 Buddhist prayer formula," she said. " I have seen 
 the words cut out in great letters in some of the 
 temples in Ceylon. But you can weave your plots 
 afterwards, you are allowing your tea to get cold 
 meanwhile. Come, Mary, leave George alone until 
 he finishes his tea." 
 
 " But you can't make a plot out of a prayer?" 
 persisted Mary. 
 
 "Can't you?" said George thoughtfully. "I am 
 beginning to think you can." He sat down at the 
 table, and laid beside his sister's cup the small re- 
 volving contrivance he had picked up at the scene 
 of the strange outrage he had witnessed. 
 
 "That is a Buddhist prayer-wheel, George!" Mrs. 
 Gray exclaimed in surprise. "Where did you get 
 
On the Trail 33 
 
 it?" She took it in her hands, and turned the wheel 
 by pulling the string. 
 
 "All that comes in in the story of my day's ex- 
 perience, Mother," George answered, as his sister 
 filled his cup, looking with large blue eyes at the 
 little machine as she did so. " But I'll tell you every- 
 thing in no time, and you, Mary, can fill in the story 
 where I don't know it, for yourself. Tibet is the 
 chief land of the Buddhists now, isn't it, Mother?" 
 
 "Yes, George, but the influence of that religion 
 extends all over China, and into the States border- 
 ing Tibet on the other sides. Your father was greatly 
 interested in the study of Buddhism, and spent most 
 of his time among the Nepalese, an independent 
 mountain people, who dwell in the heart of the 
 Himalayas between India and Tibet." 
 
 George was silent for some time after his mother 
 had finished speaking. His thoughts had flown to 
 the cloud-piercing, snow-clad peaks beyond Darjil- 
 ing. His father had lost his life among them, and 
 the call of the great mysterious land, which lay still 
 farther back, was strong within the son. " Mother," 
 he said, after a long pause, during which Mary had 
 been heaping his plate with anything on the table 
 she thought might tempt him to eat, "do you believe 
 in omens?" 
 
 "Well, George, I have been such a long time in 
 India among a superstitious people that I am afraid 
 I have caught some of their ideas regarding omens." 
 
 " Do you believe that coming events cast their 
 shadows before?" 
 
 "Oh, now you have come down to proverbs," 
 pouted Mary; "I can't get a story out of them." 
 
 "So many strange things have happened in my 
 own life," answered Mrs. Gray quietly, "that I have 
 
 (09) 3 
 
34 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 been forced to think that there must be some influence 
 at work among mankind of which we know nothing. 
 This much I do know, there is One Supreme Power 
 which controls our movements on this sphere, and 
 His ways are often incomprehensible to the limited 
 mind of man. Perhaps He sometimes allows a flash 
 of light to illuminate the darkness which veils us 
 from the unseen. But it is a wise provision that 
 we do not know what lies in store for us." 
 
 "I do, Mother. I am quite certain. I am going 
 to Tibet." 
 
 "What!" cried Mary. "With the people in my 
 story?" 
 
 "I don't know if they are in your story or not, 
 Mary, but they are in mine; and the fact of your 
 telling me of your exploring party to-night of all 
 nights, I regard as another sign to me." 
 
 " George, are you ill?" asked Mrs. Gray anxiously. 
 " Why do you talk like that?" 
 
 "No, Mother, I never felt better in my life; but 
 let me tell my story, and then you'll understand 
 me better. To-day I applied for membership of a 
 secret expedition, but was too late, as it had left 
 Victoria Station this morning. Well, it so happened 
 that I had been in the station this morning, and on 
 the very platform from which the Continental train 
 departed. I saw all the passengers, and therefore 
 must have seen the men who formed the expedition, 
 although, of course, I did not know of its existence 
 then. There was only one man, however, who im- 
 pressed himself on my memory, as being one likely 
 to have any special mission on hand. I don't know 
 why, for he was in no way different from many other 
 men on the platform; but when I heard that the 
 expedition left by that train I at once felt that he 
 
On the Trail 35 
 
 was one of its members, if not the leader. Well, 
 the day passed, and I roamed pretty nearly all over 
 London interviewing all sorts of people, who had 
 been advertising for engineers in the papers. I was 
 not very successful, and was on my way home, in 
 fact I was in this street, when I recognized in a 
 gentleman walking in front of me the man I had 
 actually watched depart from Victoria Station in the 
 morning, bound for the P. & O. steamer at Marseilles. 
 He had just drawn my attention a second time by 
 performing a kindly act, when a motor car dashed 
 past and turned round beside him. Next moment 
 the two occupants, half-Asiatic-looking fellows whom 
 I have seen somewhere before, jumped out and threw 
 a rope round his neck, and apparently nearly strangled 
 him. Anyway, before my senses had collected 
 sufficiently to allow me to do anything but stand 
 where I was, they had thrown their victim into the 
 car and made off down the street. Then I ran up 
 to where the struggle had taken place, and found 
 this strange wheel affair. There was no one in sight 
 but a blind man, for rain had begun to fall, and this 
 caused the street to be deserted. I looked for a police- 
 man, but could find none, so came home." George 
 paused, and went on with his tea. 
 
 " But your story is very incomplete," put in Mary. 
 "Why had the man come back? Did he lose the 
 boat, or did the train break down? And who were 
 the men who attacked him, and why did they do 
 so? Why were you yourself not the hero, too? You 
 should have rescued the poor man, and found him to 
 be a prince in disguise." 
 
 "Because, Mary, what I have told you is not a 
 story, it is actual fact. I am not a hero; heroes all 
 died some hundreds of years ago; their occupation 
 
36 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 like mine had gone, but unlike me, they couldn't 
 turn their hands to any other profession than the one 
 to which they were accustomed. A hero, if any were 
 alive now, would have to go on the music-hall stage, 
 and have his photograph in the cheap illustrated 
 papers, with a statement announcing to the world at 
 large the specific illness of which he was cured, and 
 the name of the patent medicine which effected that 
 cure " 
 
 "Oh, stop, George!" Mary broke in. "Don't be 
 so sarcastic. You're spoiling your story. What 
 has all you said got to do with your going to 
 Tibet?" 
 
 ' ' That surely you can fill in. This leader of the 
 secret expedition has been captured by two men who 
 
 dropped a Tibetan prayer-wheel, clearly showing 
 
 Oh, I forgot all about that; I see it all now." 
 
 "Why, George," cried Mrs. Gray, "how ex- 
 cited you have become! What is the matter?" 
 
 "Matter! Everything is the matter. The two 
 men who attacked the other were the two Oriental- 
 looking strangers who boarded the train this morning 
 after it had started. They must have been follow- 
 ing him." 
 
 "George, George, you are hopeless!" exclaimed 
 Mary. "You did not mention any two men follow- 
 ing this mysterious prince of yours at the station. 
 You have only told us that two men attacked him, 
 and carried him away in a motor car, and motor cars 
 and Tibet cannot go very well together." 
 
 But George was now too excited to explain further. 
 He sprang up from the table, and pulling the blind 
 aside, looked out into the street. The rain had now 
 changed into sleet, and the moon was shining down 
 through swiftly scudding clouds. "Yes, I'll do it," 
 
On the Trail 37 
 
 he muttered; " I feel I am called upon by some Higher 
 Power to play a part in this game." 
 
 "What do you mean, George?" cried Mrs. Gray 
 in alarm. "Remember you are all we have at home 
 now." 
 
 " Mary is of far more use than I am, Mother; but 
 you are needlessly alarmed. I am not the one to do 
 anything rashly or without your full concurrence. 
 But just see now if there does not seem to be some 
 influence at work, something higher and greater than 
 merechance, planning out a course for me to follow. 
 It cannot be only coincidence that all my day's ex- 
 periences from my leaving home in the morning 
 until my return, and even after that, should point 
 to Tibet." 
 
 " But, George dear, you may be mistaken. Your 
 enthusiasm is blinding you to reason. You have 
 a strong desire to go to that awful country, and 
 that desire makes you think things that may really 
 have no foundation in fact. Now, beyond finding a 
 Buddhist prayer-wheel in the street, I see nothing that 
 suggests Tibet in all you have told us of your day's 
 experiences, at least nothing that in the slightest 
 degree points to your going there." 
 
 "No, George," began Mary, when her mother had 
 finished, "you have told us of a remarkable experi- 
 ence which I will write into another story, but really 
 that is all. Now let me go over all the things that 
 have happened to you to-day, and you will see for 
 yourself. You saw the boat train leave this morning, 
 and among its passengers was a man whom you 
 noticed more than the rest, possibly because he was 
 dressed in a check suit of an atrocious pattern, maybe 
 he was cross-eyed, or perhaps he was even hand- 
 somer than most men. Anyhow you singled him 
 
38 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 out, and didn't know whether he was bound for 
 France or the Fijis. Two other men of foreign 
 appearance apparently followed him, and there ends 
 chapter the first. Chapter two deals, we'll assume, 
 with your finding out about some expedition, most 
 likely one got up by some faddist to bring home the 
 South Pole, or, for all you know, a company of silly 
 people going out to some desert island, if there is 
 such a thing now, to extract gold from sharks' teeth, 
 or diamonds from cocoanuts. Chapter three comes 
 back to your first characters, whom you meet again 
 in London. This naturally surprises you, but if you 
 were a story writer you would know that they might 
 only have been down to Dover, seeing some friends 
 on board the Channel steamer. But it seems there 
 is really something in this part of your story, for the 
 two men carry the other man off in a motor car. 
 And that is all. I can't see anything deeper in the 
 matter than that these two men were either detectives, 
 or had reasons for doing as they did which are not 
 quite apparent to us. But I can neither connect the 
 so-called secret expedition of chapter two with the 
 first and third chapters, nor see any connection 
 between the whole and Tibet. The thing which 
 mother calls a prayer-wheel may have been lying 
 where you found it for some time, or even if one of 
 the men dropped it, he may have bought it some- 
 where as a curiosity. Now, sir, what have you to 
 answer to all I have said?" 
 
 "You have put things in such a light that I can't 
 answer, Mary," George replied slowly. "But I 
 still feel within me that I have stumbled across an 
 affair which will yet lead me to the heights of 
 the Himalayas. I did not exactly say that I could 
 logically prove everything. I thought you might 
 
On the Trail 39 
 
 be able instinctively to guess what I don't know in 
 this business, and I was carried away by what seemed 
 signs that were meant for me. Perhaps it was your 
 story that appealed to me, but in any case you may 
 rest assured that I will not leave home to go any- 
 where without mother's full consent. I will banish 
 everything from my mind in the meantime, and 
 perhaps I will find something else to take up my 
 time and attention to-morrow." 
 
 " And at least I have got another capital story from 
 what you have told me, George," Mary laughed. 
 ' ' What do you think of The Secret Emissaries, or 
 The Kidnapped Prince?" 
 
 ' ' Both would do very well. I should like to hear 
 what the prince thought himself, though. Maybe 
 he was a runaway lama, and his abductors Tibetans 
 in disguise sent after him, that is " George hesi- 
 tated, "if he were not really the leader of that secret 
 expedition. I can't help thinking it was bound for 
 Tibet, and that these men were agents employed to 
 prevent it starting." 
 
 "Well, he ought to have organized his expedition 
 better than to allow of their knowing," Mary retorted 
 quickly. "And now, George, our work henceforth 
 is story writing, and you don't need to go about 
 having horrible adventures." 
 
 George smiled, he was not quite so sure about 
 matters as was his sister, but no more was then said 
 about Tibet, expeditions, or mysterious kidnappers, 
 and in time the members of the little household 
 retired to rest. 
 
 George awoke with a start at an early hour in 
 the morning. He had been dreaming of red and 
 yellow lamas, Chinese spies, and gigantic prayer- 
 wheels turned by mighty waterfalls. He could not 
 
40 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 fall asleep again, nor could he dismiss the objects 
 of his dream from his mind. He arose and threw 
 open his bedroom window. The stars were now 
 obscured, and the moon shone dimly through a haze. 
 A thin covering of snow lay on the ground. Sud- 
 denly from the far end of the silent street came a 
 slight rhythmic sound, growing louder, or rather more 
 pronounced, every moment. George needed not to 
 look out of his window to know it was a motor car 
 he heard, and he wondered what anyone who owned 
 a car wanted in the cold street at such an hour- 
 " Perhaps there are some more lamas knocking 
 about," he muttered. "I'll have them on the brain 
 soon." 
 
 Just then the car became distinct, and quickly the 
 lad drew in his head. It was the same car which he 
 had seen some hours previously, and its occupants 
 were the same two men who had left Victoria Station 
 that morning, and had afterwards carried off the man 
 they evidently had been following in the car. They 
 were well muffled up in furs and rugs, but the great 
 head lights of the car made the street as clear as if it 
 had been daylight, and the watcher easily recognized 
 the Oriental cast of features, which peered from amidst 
 the surrounding wrappings. The car was travelling 
 slowly, and kept a course close to the pavement; but 
 on the wrong side of the road. " By Jupiter !" ex- 
 claimed George, " 1 do believe they have come back 
 to look for their prayer-wheel." Whether such was 
 the object of the car's return- or not, George did not 
 take time to reason further. This was his chance 
 now, and he was determined not to throw it away. 
 Quickly throwing on his clothes he slipped noise- 
 lessly from the room, and, lifting his bicycle in the 
 passage, he carried it quietly out of the house. The 
 
On the Trail 41 
 
 car was not in sight when he gained the street, but 
 he had not expected it would be, indeed it would 
 have rendered his self-appointed task more difficult, 
 if there had been any possibility of his being seen. 
 A moment later he was wheeling over the soft snow, 
 keeping between the two large tracks, which shone 
 out very distinctly in the white roadway. He soon 
 came to the spot where the struggle had taken place, 
 and here the snow was covered with innumerable 
 markings, clearly showing that the car had gone up 
 and down in this vicinity a great many times, and 
 also seemingly bearing out George's surmise that 
 the owners had come back to look for something, 
 which they thought they had lost somewhere near. 
 Evidently, however, they had given up their search 
 as hopeless, as indeed it must have been if they were 
 looking for anything, seeing that all the snow had 
 fallen since their last visit. But George wasted no 
 time here. The car had gone on leaving twin furrows 
 in its spotless wake, which, unless they led into the 
 streets, where night was turned into day by pleasure- 
 loving humanity returning from balls and parties, 
 and thus lost in the multiplicity of other tracks, 
 would assuredly lead on to its destination. And 
 George intended to follow them wherever they led. 
 He did not think of possible danger to himself, noi 
 did he imagine that he alone could be of much 
 service to the man, whom he expected to find a 
 prisoner when the tracks had been run down to the 
 end. But he had no intention of rushing blindly 
 into a hornet's nest of any kind, and his first thought 
 was to find out where the prisoner had been taken. 
 After he had that knowledge, perhaps some schemes 
 would shape themselves in his brain by which he 
 might be able to help him. 
 
42 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 To his surprise the tracks led him back through 
 a parallel street, in the opposite direction to which 
 he had first started, then in through a terrace, silent 
 and deserted, and out again into a cross street, whose 
 slumbering inhabitants certainly did not dream that 
 a young cyclist was flitting past their windows, 
 unmindful of the cold, and as keen on the trail of 
 the flying monster which had passed a few minutes 
 before, as ever was sleuthhound after game. 
 
 Up long streets and down long streets, across 
 squares, and through avenues of palatial mansions, 
 in some of which there still lingered lights that told 
 of high revelry. Sometimes another car track would 
 appear for a time and then turn off at a tangent, and 
 once or twice the wheel marks of a hansom, with the 
 horses' hoofprints between, shared the roadway. But 
 there was no mistaking the track he was following; 
 it was marked well and distinguishable from other 
 car tracks, by reason of the peculiar tread of its tyres. 
 Out into a long country road the tell-tale lines now 
 led, and silently and swiftly George laid a third and 
 smaller line almost exactly in the centre. How many 
 miles he covered he did not know, but he suddenly 
 realized he was not so far from the city as he had 
 thought he must be, by recognizing an old deserted 
 mansion house he had often cycled past, on a road 
 a hundred yards or so on its opposite side. The 
 house looked ghostly in its snowy covering, and 
 George wondered how anyone could ever have stayed 
 a winter in such a gloomy -looking building. Just 
 then he uttered an exclamation. A streak of light 
 was shining through the shutters of one of the up- 
 stairs windows. The lad shivered. "I don't believe 
 
 in ghosts," he muttered, "but but nobody now 
 
 lives in that house, so what is a light doing there ?" 
 
On the Trial 4 3 
 
 Then his heart gave a bound. The tracks in the 
 snow had turned in through an old iron gate towards 
 the house. But his presence of mind now governed 
 his actions, and without a swerve he crossed the 
 double tracks, and cycled straight on as he had been 
 doing. He did not intend to leave evidence of his 
 interest in the game if he could help it. He went 
 on for about two hundred yards, then dismounted, 
 and leaving his bicycle against a hedge, he began 
 to work his way back to the gate on foot. Here he 
 found that by removing his boots he could walk 
 along one of the car tracks without leaving any 
 mark, and he immediately discarded his footwear to 
 do so. But he did not walk, he ran. It was quite 
 a simple matter keeping his light flying feet inside 
 the wheel depression, and soon he found himself 
 rounding an end of the mysterious house, and ap- 
 proaching a building that seemed to be a disused 
 stable. Next moment he had come to the end of the 
 car trail. He had traced it to its resting-place inside 
 the large double stable doors. But the car itself was 
 of little interest to him. It was the tall stranger, 
 who had befriended the blind man, he wanted to 
 find. Footmarks led from the stable doors back to 
 the house, and, planting his own feet inside those 
 most prominent, he reached a back entrance to the 
 house in a few seconds. For some minutes he 
 crouched into the sheltered shadows there, thinking. 
 After all, what could he do? He was almost be- 
 numbed with the cold, and he was no nearer the 
 solution of the mystery than when he set out. True, 
 he had discovered where the two Oriental-looking 
 men were at present housed, and in all probability 
 their prisoner was also inside. He might now go 
 back and inform the police, and leave them to deal 
 
44 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 with the matter. But this idea did not find much 
 favour with George. He had entered into the busi- 
 ness of his own accord, and he was resolved that he 
 would see it through somehow. Besides, such men 
 as he had been chasing would probably remove them- 
 selves and their prisoner to a more distant spot before 
 the police could arrive, and the chances were that a 
 shower of rain would come before daylight, and ob- 
 literate all tracks. He did not know the time, but 
 guessed he had still an hour or so of darkness, 
 enough time to return as he had come, unobserved. 
 The last thought he entertained only for a moment, 
 the next minute he was on his way round to the side 
 of the house where he had seen the light, his feet 
 leaving no traces on the hard, dry ground under the 
 shelter of the eaves. 
 
 At length he was standing directly underneath the 
 window, through a crack in the shutters of which a 
 thin ray of light spread out fanwise into the night, 
 until lost among some snow-mantled shrubbery. 
 The silence was profound and awe-inspiring, and the 
 gloomy surroundings such as might awake a feeling 
 of terror in the stoutest-hearted. And George was 
 already stiff with cold. "I don't like this place," he 
 chattered, his eyes trying to distinguish the strange 
 tree forms that rose out of the darkness around him 
 on all sides, except on that of the house wall. He 
 reached up and grasped one of the iron bars that 
 guarded the ground-floor window beside him. It 
 came away in his hand, and, his numbed fingers 
 unable to retain their grasp, clattered noisily to the 
 ground. George was paralysed. He could not run. 
 The noise was enough to rouse the deepest sleeper, 
 let alone men engaged in criminal work. "It's all 
 up now," he gasped. "There will be two prisoners 
 
On the Trail 45 
 
 instead of one, and maybe they'll kill me." He 
 crouched into the darkness and waited. But nothing 
 happened. It might all have been a dream so far as 
 results were concerned, but the iron bar lying at the 
 lad's feet prevented him from cheating himself with 
 that belief. Soon his spirits came back to him, and 
 he stood up. "They must be all asleep," he said to 
 himself. "And even if they do find me here, they'll 
 think I'm a homeless wanderer seeking shelter in a 
 deserted house." 
 
 He stamped his feet, and swung his arms together, 
 taking care to make no sound that might alarm any- 
 one, and in a few minutes he had worked up a 
 pleasant warmth and regained the use of his limbs. 
 With the return of circulation came the determination 
 to investigate the matter, which had brought him 
 there, to the bottom, and now elated in the full glory 
 of possession of his strength he swung himself up 
 upon the window sash just above his head. Then 
 he fixed his fingers among some ivy creepers which 
 encircled a rain-pipe, and pulled himself higher still, 
 until his feet found grip on the horizontal iron bar 
 which formed the centre of the shutter rails. A 
 few seconds more, and, thanks to the rain-pipe, the 
 ivy, and his own muscular development, he stood 
 upon the projecting slab of stone which surmounted 
 the lower windows, and continuing his climb, he 
 shortly after found foothold on a ledge underneath 
 the light-emitting shutter. Next moment he was 
 looking through the crack, or chink, into the room. 
 
 It was as if he were looking at a tableau set upon 
 a stage. The room was bare of all furniture, but 
 three men were within its four walls, and they were 
 enacting a scene surely highly dramatic. Two of the 
 men were those George had followed, and the third 
 
46 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 was the mysterious stranger whom they had ab- 
 ducted. He was lying on the floor bound and help- 
 less, and his captors were standing over him in an 
 attitude, that seemed one moment threatening and 
 the next full of entreaty. They were talking to each 
 other, but the watcher on the window outside could 
 only see their lips moving, no sound reached his 
 ears. To all the two men had to say the bound man 
 only shook his head, apparently answering them in 
 the negative. This at last seemed to make his cap- 
 tors angry, so one drew a long glittering knife, and 
 eyed it and the prisoner significantly. The action 
 seemed vastly amusing to the bound man, for his 
 face lit up with a smile. Then the other two talked 
 together for a time with their backs towards their 
 victim, but in turning away from him they faced the 
 unseen watcher, and he engrafted their features upon 
 his mind. Both were powerfully-built men of ab- 
 normal muscular development, and both had an 
 indescribable something about their features that 
 proclaimed them to be allied to some Oriental race; 
 yet their eyes were not oblique, nor were their cheek- 
 bones so prominent as George had at first thought. 
 Their complexions were not much different from that 
 of the man lying on the floor, perhaps a shade more 
 deeply bronzed. It was in their hair that George 
 noticed the chief difference between them and their 
 prisoner. It was of very coarse texture, jet black in 
 colour, and tied up behind in a tapering coil, strongly 
 suggestive of a horn. This, of course, would be 
 hidden when a hat was worn. Their dress was that 
 of ordinary English gentlemen, except that they 
 wore no collar, a red scarf and a necklet of beads, 
 from which was suspended an ivory image, taking 
 that useful article's place, although this too would 
 
On the Trail 47 
 
 be hidden when the coat was buttoned. A long drop- 
 ping moustache hid each man's mouth, and perhaps 
 did more than anything else to give one the impres- 
 sion that they were Asiatics. As for their prisoner, 
 he was unmistakably a remarkably well-built Briton, 
 clean shaven, with nothing an observer would note 
 about the face, except a general air of determination 
 and bull-dog tenacity of purpose. He lay still and 
 laughed while the others communed with each other. 
 
 Suddenly without a word, so far as the watcher 
 could determine, they turned and left the room, clos- 
 ing the door behind them. The bound man remained 
 still, as if listening to their footsteps descending the 
 stairs, but, apparently concluding that they had really 
 gone away, he sat up and looked about him, as if 
 planning some desperate deed to effect his escape. 
 
 But George had now an idea, and he straightway 
 proceeded to carry it out. Reaching for the friendly 
 rain -pipe again, he swarmed up the walls of the 
 house until he gained the gable of the roof. Then 
 carefully he continued his upward passage, grasping 
 tightly the eaves, to ensure his hold on the slippery 
 and treacherous slates. Up, up, he climbed, pulling 
 himself over the snow by sheer strength of grip. At 
 last he caught hold of the ridge, and standing there- 
 on he scrutinized the chimneys on a level with his 
 face thoughtfully. Only one was smoking, and the 
 warmth of the smoke was most pleasant. But it was 
 not to warm his hands he had transformed himself 
 into a squirrel, and noting with alarm that dawn was 
 not far distant, he set about his work. 
 
 "That smoking chimney communicates with the 
 room in which the red scarf men are, I may safely 
 guess," he muttered. " My tall friend must be in the 
 room with which one of these two vents on the far 
 
48 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 side connect." He shifted his position, and, placing 
 his head over the selected flue, called out softly, 
 "Hullo!" 
 
 No answer greeted his listening ears, so he re- 
 peated his call, but not a sound floated upwards. 
 
 " I have heard about a man being up the wrong 
 tree," he said to himself grimly, " but that is cer- 
 tainly down the wrong chimney." Almost frozen 
 with cold he tried the next, and at once discomfort, 
 cold, and doubt vanished. He heard the sound of 
 a man . rolling over the floor towards the fireplace 
 beneath. " Hullo!" he repeated, "Hullo!" 
 
 " Hullo!" faintly came an answer from the depths. 
 " Where are you? And who are you?" 
 
 " I'm speaking down the chimney, and I am a 
 friend. I saw you being attacked last night, and I 
 traced the motor car here. Tell me what I can do 
 for you? Shall I go for the police?" 
 
 " No, I have a purpose in remaining here; but how 
 can I know whether you are a friend or not? Hush ! 
 Someone is coming." 
 
 George heard the door open, and a murmur of 
 voices reached his ears. Then the door closed again, 
 and immediately after a soft, "Are you there?" came 
 up the strange speaking-tube. 
 
 " Yes. Let me know quickly what you want done. 
 I am almost frozen, and I shall be seen when daylight 
 breaks." 
 
 " I daren't speak down here without risking being 
 overheard. My friends are very keen-eared. Tell 
 me who you are, and what interest you have in 
 me. 
 
 "I am no one of special importance. My name is 
 George Gray. I saw you first yesterday morning at 
 Victoria Station, and last night recognized you as 
 
On the Trail 49 
 
 you helped a blind man across the road. I know 
 nothing about you, and if I am interfering where 
 I am not wanted, I'll go away now." 
 
 "Stay! You can do me a service. Will you 
 undertake to do it without asking any questions?" 
 
 " Certainly, if it is in my power, and not anything 
 wrong." 
 
 "I don't think it will tax the abilities of one who 
 can stand on the ice-bound roof of a house and talk 
 down the chimney, and I assure you there is nothing 
 wrong about it." 
 
 " What is it, then? Tell me quickly. I can't hold 
 on here much longer." 
 
 "Will you take my boot to a certain address in 
 London?" 
 
 ' ' Your boot? I am not standing where I am for 
 amusement, and I don't see anything smart or clever 
 in what you have said, even if I were." 
 
 "There is nothing smart. Ah! wait a moment. 
 Now I can talk more safely. I am speaking directly 
 up the flue now. I meant what I said. If you deliver 
 one of my boots at the address on a card I shall place 
 inside it, if I can get my hand into my pocket for my 
 cardcase, you will be well rewarded." 
 
 ' ' I want no reward. How am I to get your 
 boot?" 
 
 "Ah, there you have the better of me. You 
 haven't a piece of string you could send down to 
 me?" 
 
 ' ' No. You mean to tie your boot on the end for 
 me to pull up?" 
 
 " Yes, and unfortunately even although I could slip 
 my bonds, which I believe I can do any time, I can't 
 send the cord up to you." 
 
 "Wait, I have an idea. I'll cut the toes of my 
 
 (09) 4 
 
50 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 stockings, and then the worsted will run out. A 
 double line should be able to carry a boot." 
 
 " But you'll freeze without your stockings." 
 
 " I am as cold as I can be already. Give me a 
 minute." 
 
 George sat astride the ridge, and cut his stockings 
 open at the toes with his pocket knife. As he had 
 anticipated, he was then able to pull out the worsted 
 in two long lines. When he had enough lying on 
 the roof beside him, he tied his knife to the two ends 
 and dropped it down the flue, allowing the lines to 
 pass through his fingers, until he felt the lower ends 
 gripped. He then tied the remaining free worsted 
 round his feet, and broke it off at a convenient point, 
 allowing a yard or two for emergencies in the room 
 beneath. 
 
 "Say when you are ready," he spoke softly at the 
 chimney's mouth, and listening he heard sounds 
 suggestive of a boot being removed, by the action of 
 another boot pressing against it. » 
 
 "I am very sorry to have to keep you in the cold 
 so long," answered the prisoner, "but it is not an 
 easy matter to remove a boot without the aid of 
 one's hands. But pull away gently now, the card 
 is inside." 
 
 "Any message apart from delivering the boot?" 
 asked George. 
 
 " No. Well, you can answer any questions asked 
 as well as you can. I will keep your knife until next 
 we meet, and perhaps I shall then be able to thank 
 you." 
 
 The boot came safely into George's hands. ' ' I 
 have it," he said, "and I will carry out your instruc- 
 tions. I am going now, unless you have something 
 more to say." 
 
On the Trail 51 
 
 "Nothing more, except, don't tell the police any- 
 thing. I can escape easily when it suits me, and I'll 
 find means of explaining the mystery to you some 
 day. You are only a boy, I gather from your voice?" 
 
 " Oh, I am old enough to look after myself. Dawn 
 is just at hand." 
 
 "Then get away at once. Your message is far 
 more important than you can guess." 
 
 Next moment George was sliding down the slates, 
 the boot, a very ordinary specimen of footwear, tightly 
 gripped under his left arm. He swung down into the 
 ivy, and by means of its stanch support, and the help 
 of the rain-pipe, soon reached the solid earth. With- 
 out losing time he started running towards the near- 
 est car tracks, careful to keep on the ground whereon 
 lay no snow. Gaining the double trail he ran swiftly 
 along the course of one line, as he had done before, 
 and in a few minutes found himself on the road at 
 the turning. He was now warm with the exercise, 
 and pulling his boots, which he found where he had 
 left them, over his mutilated stockings, he ran along 
 the side of the hedge until he came to his bicycle. 
 
 It was now quite clear, and George recognized his 
 surroundings. Jumping upon his machine he drove 
 ahead until he came to a cross road, which led him 
 out upon the main parallel track he had known was 
 near, then, putting all his strength into the pedals, 
 he doubled past the mysterious house and paused 
 not until he had reached home. He had made a 
 circular tour, and hard indeed would be the task 
 of anyone who attempted to trace him. 
 
 His mother and sister had just missed him when 
 he entered the house, and were greatly excited. It 
 was so unusual for George to do anything without 
 telling them. 
 
52 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 " Mother," he exclaimed before anyone could speak, 
 " I have found the stolen lama, and I am carrying 
 a message from him." 
 
 " But what are you doing with an old boot?" asked 
 his sister irrelevantly, eyeing with surprise the article 
 in his hand. 
 
 " That is the message," he answered, passing it 
 over to her. " I have to deliver it at the address 
 on this card." He produced the card from his pocket 
 and uttered a cry of astonishment. The address was 
 that of Mr. Deverell, and it was that gentleman's 
 name that it bore. 
 
 "Why, George, the heel of this boot screws off," 
 Mary exclaimed. "Oh, look!" 
 
 She had removed the heel, and in a recess therein 
 lay a large and perfect moonstone of a most won- 
 drous tinge of colour. It fell out into her hands, 
 and as George and her mother looked on in speech- 
 less amazement she held it up and said: "There is 
 some inscription inside the stone. Why, it is ' Otn 
 Mani Padmi Hum\" 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 The Man with the Moonstone 
 
 Mr. Deverell sat in his office deep in thought. 
 That something unpleasant had crossed his mind 
 was easily evident, yet his clerks could formulate 
 no idea as to the nature of the trouble which seemed 
 to be oppressing him. It was not financial matters 
 they well knew, for he had just succeeded in carrying 
 through a scheme which brought in many thousands 
 of pounds clear profit; and besides, Mr. Deverell 
 never allowed his face to index business worries, 
 if anything, smiling more cheerfully when things 
 appeared to be going not altogether in his favour. 
 
 Suddenly he rang the little bell which rested on 
 his table, and, on the entrance of someone to see 
 what was wanted, he called out, "Send Smith here!" 
 
 " Yes, sir," the clerk answered promptly, but not 
 venturing to return to the outer office. 
 
 "Well?" demanded Mr. Deverell, "do so at once. 
 Is my language not clear?" 
 
 " Yes, sir. Please, sir, I'm Smith." 
 
 "Oh, you arel Why didn't you say so at first?" 
 Mr. Deverell looked up. "Come here," he con- 
 tinued, " I don't wish to strain my voice talking to 
 you. Repeat your story of what happened last night 
 near young Gray's home." He leaned back in his 
 
 53 
 
54 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 chair, and prepared to give his best attention to the 
 tale he had already been told by his clerk. 
 
 "When I left this office, sir " 
 
 " Miss that part. Jump ahead a bit." 
 
 "Yes, sir. He dined in " 
 
 "We'll assume that also. In fact, consider 
 the events of the day as told. Start at night- 
 fall." 
 
 "Yes, sir. When night came on he was on one 
 side of a long residential street out West, and I 
 was on the other side. There were only two other 
 people in sight, a blind beggar, and a gentleman 
 whom, if I didn't know that he left London this 
 morning, I should say was Mr. Tom himself. This 
 gentleman helped the blind man across the road 
 and gave him his coat, and was closely watched 
 by young Mr. Gray while he was doing this. 
 Shortly afterwards two men in a motor car came 
 up, and he — I mean the gentleman like Mr. Tom — 
 went away with them. I am not sure whether he 
 wished to go with them or not; I think he objected 
 at first, but I was watching Mr. Gray, and didn't 
 pay much attention to anything else." 
 
 "Which was where you were wrong, Smith. A 
 man of intelligence, such as I have tried to make 
 you, would have contrived to see everything that 
 was happening around him." 
 
 " Yes, sir. Mr. Gray ran up to where the motor 
 car had stopped, and picked up something which 
 seemed to puzzle him a bit. He stood and looked 
 all round him, and I drew close in to the wall ; then 
 he held the thing he had found in the light of a 
 lamp and muttered something to himself, then he 
 went straight home; and after noting his address, 
 and making sure it was really where he stayed, I 
 
The Man with the Moonstone 55 
 
 considered my work done according to orders, and 
 went home myself." 
 
 "That will do, then, Smith. You have got, your 
 requirements for a voyage packed?" 
 
 "Yes, sir; and I have also sent young Edwards 
 to the outfitters' as per instructions." 
 
 "Very good; I will ring when I want you. again. 
 You will probably leave to-night." 
 
 "Yes, sir." Smith silently withdrew — he did 
 not know where he was to leave for, but that didn't 
 matter — and the financier was again alone. He 
 still seemed perturbed in spirit, and Smith's repe- 
 tition of his story had not given him any relief. 
 
 " Perhaps young Gray may be able to supplement 
 Smith's tale," he mused. " I suppose it must have 
 been Tom whom Smith saw. Smith doesn't make 
 mistakes, I know. But why did he come back? It 
 must have been for a purpose, and if so, why have 
 I not heard? Surely I have a right to know the 
 movements of my own son, especially as we have 
 been more like comrades than parent and child. 
 Ah, well, perhaps I am worrying needlessly, for 
 I know Tom can easily look after himself. Still, I 
 wish I knew, for this expedition on hand at present 
 is not one in which there is no danger by any means. 
 I'll send for young Gray anyway. He has proved 
 himself to be no spy, and he will be a useful member 
 to send after the others — Well, Smith, what is it?" 
 
 "Mr. Gray is here, sir, and wishes to see you. 
 He will not tell his business." 
 
 "Show him in at once. And I say, ring up the 
 P. & O. Company, and ask if there is still accommo- 
 dation available on board their mail steamer, which 
 leaves Marseilles this forenoon." 
 
 "Yes, sir. Mr. Gray, sir." 
 
56 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 " Come in, my lad," Mr. Deverell cried, as George 
 stood hesitatingly in the doorway, at a loss to account 
 for the great change in the manner towards him 
 adopted by Smith. "I was just about to send for 
 you. But tell me, before we talk important business, 
 what brings you here of your own accord?" 
 
 "This, sir," George replied, laying a parcel on 
 the desk. " It is a boot, and I was asked to deliver 
 it to you. I have done so, and now I wish you 
 good morning." 
 
 "Hold hard there, boy. I wish to talk to you. 
 What is the meaning of bringing a boot to me? 
 How and where did you get it? Who gave it to 
 you, and who told you to bring it to me?" Mr. 
 Deverell's voice was as *stern as usual, but there 
 was just the suspicion of a tremor in it, that showed 
 he was not altogether ignorant of the boot's meaning. 
 
 ' ' I was asked to deliver it to you, sir, by a gentle- 
 man who didn't explain matters to me. I have 
 however, accidentally discovered that the boot con- 
 tains a gemstone. It came out in my sister's hands, 
 but it is now replaced, as you will find if you 
 examine the parcel." 
 
 With hands that trembled in spite of all efforts 
 to restrain them, Mr. Deverell opened the parcel, 
 unscrewed the heel, and disclosed the beautiful 
 moonstone. In silence he looked at it for a few 
 minutes, then turning to his youthful companion 
 he said: "Mr. Gray, may I ask if you know any- 
 thing about this stone?" 
 
 "Nothing, sir. Of course I suspected that there 
 was more in my bringing a boot to you than ap- 
 peared; but I was given no information on the 
 subject, nor do I know the name of the gentleman 
 who asked me to deliver it." 
 
The Man with the Moonstone 57 
 
 " And you are not curious to know?" 
 
 "I am, sir; but I am quite content to remain 
 ignorant, seeing the man who entrusted it to me 
 did not choose to tell me." 
 
 "But how did he come to give it to you? Where 
 were you?" 
 
 "On top of a chimney, sir. He was a prisoner 
 in a room below." 
 
 " What I Where was this, boy? Tell me quickly. 
 Any reward you like to mention shall be yours." 
 Mr. Deverell was certainly excited now. 
 
 "I wish no reward, sir. The gentleman enlisted 
 me in his services by showing me, at a time when 
 I thought there was nothing good in London, that 
 he at least could do a kindly act. Afterwards he 
 was attacked by two strange- looking men in a motor 
 car, and I tracked it through the snow during the 
 night to where they had taken him. That is every- 
 thing I know, except that I saw the same gentleman 
 and those who attacked him after, leaving Victoria 
 Station yesterday morning on the P. & O. boat 
 train." 
 
 "Could you take me to the house where this hap- 
 pened?" Mr. Deverell was once more the cool busi- 
 ness man. He spoke as if he were probably thinking 
 of buying the property. 
 
 "Oh yes, sir!" George replied. "But I should 
 tell you, perhaps, that he told me not to inform 
 the police, that he had a purpose in staying there, 
 and that he could escape when he desired." 
 
 "Ah! then we'll go and see what he thinks about 
 the matter now." Mr. Deverell touched a bell, and 
 when a clerk appeared in answer to the summons, 
 he said: "Ring up the most convenient garage 
 and get a fast motor car sent round here at once." 
 
58 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 The clerk withdrew, and Mr. Deverell again turned 
 to George. "lam greatly obliged to you," he began. 
 " I will not pretend that I do not know the meaning 
 of this stone being brought to me. I know very well 
 the significance of the fact. In one respect my mind 
 is now relieved from some doubts which were troub- 
 ling me before you came in, but I still have a great 
 problem before me. My boy, yesterday when I offered 
 you a position in my office you refused ; I am glad 
 you did so, for I was merely testing your calibre, 
 if I may use the term. Now I ask you to do me 
 the favour of accepting a post of greater trust, one 
 which will require all your courage and the use of 
 all your brains to carry through successfully. No, 
 don't answer me now; talk over the proposal with 
 your people, and let me know this afternoon. Should 
 you accept, as I hope you will, you will have to leave 
 Charing Cross station to-night for Brindisi with the 
 night Continental Mail. I, of course, shall look after 
 your mother and sister until your return, so you need 
 have no fears on their account." 
 
 " My mother and sister? Do you know them?" 
 
 " Not personally as yet, but I know all about them. 
 You see, I have means of finding out things which 
 most other people have not. I know all your move- 
 ments of yesterday from the time you left my office 
 until you reached home, and I was just about to send 
 for you, as I have already said, when you came here 
 with that most significant message." 
 
 "Where do you wish me to go, and what are 
 the purposes I have to carry out, sir?" 
 
 "You will go as direct as train and steamer can 
 take you to Colombo in Ceylon, and there join the 
 other members of the expedition which left yesterday. 
 What it is going to do I dare not tell you now, 
 
The Man with the Moonstone 59 
 
 you will know in Colombo; but how the work is 
 to be carried out I do not know myself in the mean- 
 time. You are not required to do anything which 
 a level-headed person such as you could deem wrong ; 
 but more than what I have said I cannot at present 
 inform you. But I hear the car outside now. Come 
 and show me the scene of your night adventures." 
 
 Wondering what could have happened to bring 
 about such a change in Mr. Deverell's manner, and 
 greatly perplexed to know the connection between 
 the presentation of the boot and the offer of being 
 made a member of the secret expedition, upon which 
 his mind had been so much set, George followed the 
 financier downstairs into the street, where a powerfully 
 engined car was standing, noisily proclaiming to all 
 passers-by that its stay in its present position was not 
 intended to be of such a duration that there was any 
 necessity to stop the engines. 
 
 "Just instruct the chauffeur where to go," Mr. 
 Deverell said to George as they entered the car. 
 "And you need have no fear; I know how to deal 
 with the two Oriental gentlemen you know, if we 
 are fortunate enough to find them at home." 
 
 " I am not afraid, sir," George responded, after 
 giving the required directions. "I'm just wonder- 
 ing what my mother and sister will say when they 
 learn I was right after all, and that I shall yet see 
 Tibet." 
 
 "Tibet!" exclaimed Mr. Deverell; "who talked of 
 Tibet?" 
 
 " No one, sir; but it is in my mind that I am going 
 there, and I happen to know the meaning of ' Om 
 Mani Padmi Hum'." 
 
 " Which is more than I know. Who told you 
 its meaning?" 
 
60 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 " My mother. She used to live near the Nepal 
 border when my father was surveying in that district, 
 and she knows a lot about the Nepalese and the 
 Tibetans. These words mean ' Oh, Jewel of the 
 Lotus Flower 1' and comprise the Buddhist prayer 
 formula." 
 
 Mr. Deverell was silent for a long time. Finally 
 he said: 
 
 " But even allowing that these strange words have 
 some meaning to the Buddhists, where is the con- 
 nection with them and the expedition which left yes- 
 terday?" He had apparently found reason to be sur- 
 prised that his companion had formed any opinion. 
 
 "Well, sir, if it is against your interests that I 
 should hold ideas of my own, or reason things out 
 for myself, I shall of course cease to give the matter 
 further attention, but I can't help putting two and 
 two together in the meantime." 
 
 " No, no, I do not wish you to become a mere 
 disinterested unit in the party you are to join; but 
 I am not aware that I have given away any informa- 
 tion, and I am certainly curious to know how you 
 obtained yours, which, mark you, I am not saying is 
 correct." 
 
 " If I am wrong, sir, the whole affair ends, but if 
 you like I can give you my reasons for thinking Tibet 
 is the ultimate object of the secret expedition. Ah, 
 look! there are the tracks of the car I followed last 
 night, that is my cycle trail in the middle." 
 
 Mr. Deverell looked as directed, and saw the two 
 heavy markings with the single lighter line between. 
 They had now left the busy streets, and were rapidly 
 running along the side road leading to the open 
 country, and which was as yet remarkably free from 
 the marks of traffic. 
 
The Man with the Moonstone 61 
 
 " Give me the benefit of your deductions then, my 
 lad," he said. " It may be that you have discovered 
 a weakness in our arrangements which had better be 
 made right at once." 
 
 " Oh, it is all very simple, sir," George answered; 
 " in fact, my sister has already shown me that my 
 reasoning was wrong, but I think I have discovered 
 a few more facts since then. Briefly, you have organ- 
 ized a secret expedition. Why secret, unless it is going 
 where it would not be allowed to go, were its proposed 
 destination known? Now, there are few places on 
 this earth closed to explorers, and Tibet is the chief. 
 Of course I should never have arrived at the con- 
 clusion that Tibet was to be the scene of operation 
 from that fact alone, but it seems that at least one 
 member of that expedition was watched — I am pre- 
 suming that the gentleman who sent you the boot 
 was a member — and when, for some unexplained 
 reason, perhaps to throw his watchers off the scent, 
 he comes back to London, he is captured by the men 
 who were following him. These men are Buddhists, 
 and therefore naturally interested in Tibet, if not 
 Tibetans themselves, for I found a prayer -wheel 
 which they dropped. Now why should they trouble 
 about an expedition going anywhere unless it were 
 going to their country, and why should they 
 risk the penalties attached to law-breaking in Eng- 
 land unless some — to them — higher power than the 
 English law compelled them to do so? And why 
 should the captured man ask me not to inform the 
 police, were it not that he feared the whole story 
 would come out and the expedition be stopped? 
 Again, he sent me with that boot to you without 
 telling me anything about the stone hidden in the 
 heel. He did not know me, and thought I might 
 
62 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 possibly be another spy. You evidently thought 
 the same yourself, seeing that since I saw you last 
 you have been enquiring about my people and my- 
 self. I saw the stone by accident, and it is a sacred 
 Buddhist gem, and carried engraven in its heart the 
 holy formula of that religion, the headquarters of 
 which is in Tibet. And " 
 
 "Stop, boy! You have said enough." Mr. Dever- 
 ell interrupted. " Whether you are near the truth or 
 not I am not empowered to tell you; but might I 
 suggest that these men, presumably Tibetans, know- 
 ing that our friend had the moonstone in his posses- 
 sion, simply captured him to steal it from him? This 
 he frustrated by means of your assistance, and there 
 the whole mystery ends. You only assumed that he 
 had any connection with the secret expedition, you 
 know, and- " 
 
 "These tracks seem to turn into these private 
 grounds just ahead, sir," the chauffeur broke in; 
 "shall I follow them, or keep straight on after these 
 new ones?" 
 
 "Why, that is the house over there!" cried George. 
 " We must have come along very fast." 
 
 "Nevertheless it strikes me we are too late to see 
 our friends to-day," laughed Mr. Deverell. "Their 
 car seems to have passed out here this morning 
 already. Look at these tracks continuing, on from 
 the gate and the double lines inside." 
 
 "Where to, then, sir?" asked the driver, who was 
 beginning to wonder if his employers had any idea 
 themselves where they wished to go. He knew he 
 could not follow tracks in the snow much longer, 
 for a main road was not far distant where all marks 
 would be obliterated, even if the rain which was 
 threatening held off. 
 
The Man with the Moonstone 63 
 
 "To that house over there," ordered Mr. Deverell, 
 and, as he spoke, the car was swung round into the 
 private drive leading to the mansion. In a minute 
 or so the front door was reached, and George gazed 
 with mingled feelings on the scene of his cold esca- 
 pade during the night. But what a difference now! 
 In the darkness his nerves had almost mastered him, 
 and he would have done anything rather than meet 
 the two Orientals. At present nothing would please 
 him more than a scrimmage with them. He was 
 warm, well clad, and well fed, and the eeriness of the 
 old house and its environment had departed with the 
 coming of daylight. 
 
 Mr. Deverell rang the bell violently, and the echoes 
 reverberated through the deserted corridors and halls 
 with ominous clearness. Meanwhile George ran 
 round to the stables, and the chauffeur stood by the 
 car, and vaguely speculated on his chances of getting 
 back to the city before the rain came on and turned 
 the soft country roads into tracks little better than 
 ploughed fields. Again Mr. Deverell rang the bell, 
 this time even more violently than before, but there 
 was no sign of commotion inside; but for the bell's 
 echoes all was silent. 
 
 Then George came running back. "There has 
 been some disturbance here this morning early," he 
 cried. "They must have got a fright, for their car 
 is not in the stable; there are lots of footmarks 
 everywhere around too, and the back doors are wide 
 open. That is the prisoner's room up there. I'll 
 climb up and call on him." 
 
 " No need if any doors are open," Mr. Deverell 
 said. "Come along." He ran round to the back 
 door, followed by George and the chauffeur, who 
 was now becoming mildly excited. Without any 
 
64 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 hesitation he rushed inside and threw open the 
 kitchen. Two plates filled with cooked rice lay on 
 the floor, and a red garment not unlike a dressing 
 gown hung upon the back of the door. George had 
 at once made for the stairs, and in a second he 
 was standing in the room in which the prisoner had 
 been confined. But the apartment was empty, a few 
 pieces of cord lay on the floor near the door, and 
 the lamp which had thrown the streak of light through 
 the shutter was still burning. ' ' They have taken him 
 away again," cried George wildly. "Quick! let us 
 get on their tracks before the snow melts." 
 
 " No use, my lad," spoke Mr. Deverell beside him. 
 "This act is finished. The next will be amidst a 
 setting somewhat different from this." 
 
 " But we may still overtake them," cried George. 
 " We can't allow them to carry off the man now." 
 
 "They haven't done any such thing, boy. I sus- 
 pect the tables have been turned. Our friend has 
 been true to his word. He has borrowed their car 
 and gone off himself, and they are vainly trying to 
 follow his tracks now. He has escaped, as he told 
 you he would when he desired." 
 
 " But how do you know, sir? It may not be as you 
 think." 
 
 "You don't know the gentleman as I do," laughed 
 Mr. Deverell almost hysterically. " It would take 
 more than a couple of Chinese agents to hold him 
 here, if he didn't wish to wait." 
 
 " But what purpose could he fulfil by waiting here 
 overnight if he could have escaped earlier?" asked 
 George in astonishment. " It seems to me that the 
 mystery is now deeper than ever." 
 
 " Of course it is, my boy ; it is meant to be. But 
 let me ease your mind. See those small pieces of 
 
The Man with the Moonstone 65 
 
 cord just inside the door? These are the bindings 
 that were round his wrists. He must have procured 
 a knife somehow, for I hardly imagine his friends 
 would leave him with one. Opening it with his 
 teeth, he placed the handle in the keyhole here, and 
 then rubbed his wrist bindings against the blade until 
 cut through. After his hands were free the rest was 
 easy; he discarded his other boot — see, there it is lying 
 in the grate space — and leaving a message for me, for 
 he knew I would come if you were not really a spy, 
 he then stole downstairs and out to the motor car. 
 Our two friends were just sitting down to their break- 
 fast of rice when, doubtless, they heard the sound of 
 the car's engines and rushed out. But they were too 
 late, for we have seen the impress of their heelless 
 boots in the snow as they ran after it. By this time 
 they will be far from here, and, as I see it is now 
 raining, they will not even have tracks to follow very 
 soon." 
 
 " But has he left you a message, sir?" 
 
 "Yes, look at that word written with a sooty finger 
 on the wall. That word is the name of a friend of 
 mine, the real owner of the moonstone you brought 
 me, and to whom I am going to entrust you with the 
 mission of delivering it. There is not much danger 
 now, for the would-be thieves will in all probability 
 continue to look for their escaped prisoner, and your 
 ticket is already taken for the P- & O. Indian mail 
 from Charing Cross to-night." 
 
 " But I don't understand what it all means, sir. 
 That word spells Gilama. Who is he, and how am 
 I to find him? or know him when I do see him? 
 Besides, I cannot undertake any such mission with- 
 out first consulting my mother. There is too much 
 mystery in the thing." 
 
 (09) 6 
 
66 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 "And yet you came and offered yourself to me 
 as willing to join an expedition bound you did not 
 know where, and for an object of which you were 
 equally ignorant? Be consistent, young man, be 
 consistent." 
 
 "That is all very well, sir. You refused my appli- 
 cation, and since then I have become more interested 
 in the fate of the man who sent me with the boot 
 to you than in anything else. It was since then too 
 that I promised my mother that I would not leave 
 home without her consent. I am all that she and my 
 sister have- to depend upon, and I am not going to 
 get mixed up in what, for all I know, is a plot of 
 some kind which can serve no good purpose." 
 
 " My young friend, the man whom you saw leaving 
 Victoria Station, and whom you saw attacked in the 
 streets at nightfall, is my son. It is in his interests 
 that I am asking you to deliver the moonstone to its 
 owner. That is quite apart from the secret expe- 
 dition, although, as you guessed this morning, there 
 is a connection between the two circumstances. You 
 will find Gilama at the Galle Face Hotel, Colombo, 
 and you simply have to hand him the stone. If after 
 that you decide to have nothing to do with the expedi- 
 tion, you are quite at liberty to return home. Your 
 passage ticket is a return one. More I must not say, 
 except that I will undertake to get your mother's 
 consent for you to join the venture if you wish to do 
 so, and that you will be well paid for your services. 
 That there is danger in the scheme I admit, but it 
 is only by having the best men interested in it that 
 my son can hope to carry it through. It is for him 
 I am acting now, and for no one else." 
 
 " Will he be taking an active part in things?" 
 
 " He will be taking the chief part all through." 
 
The Man with the Moonstone 67 
 
 "Then that knowledge is good enough for me. If 
 my mother agrees I am ready to depart now, and take 
 all risks." 
 
 "Then let us return to the town. I shall there 
 leave you with one of my men to get fitted out, and 
 then call upon your mother." 
 
 "Are you wanting any more men, sir, who don't 
 care a shake of a dead dog's tail what they do?" put 
 in the chauffeur as they left the house, "because I'm 
 one of that sort, and a reckless sort of life would suit 
 me down to the carburetter." He had evidently been 
 listening. 
 
 " I am afraid you wouldn't suit me in this case 
 though," Mr. Deverell replied. "It is not reckless 
 men who are required, but, on the contrary, men 
 with a full sense of their own responsibility for their 
 actions. In any case no more men are wanted, and 
 if you now take us back to the city as expeditiously 
 as possible, without exceeding the speed limit, I shall 
 see that you have no reason to regret the labour in 
 cleaning the car which this rain entails." 
 
 Little more was said by anyone, as the swish of the 
 wheels through the slushy roads, and the increased 
 hum of the machinery, rendered conversation difficult. 
 In a remarkably short space of time Mr. Deverell's 
 office was reached, and then, after giving Smith some 
 orders, the great financier took George out to lunch. 
 During the meal he led the boy to talk of himself, 
 and his ambitions, and without allowing him to be 
 aware of the fact, also put him through a very stiff 
 examination as to his capabilities. He was pleased 
 with the result, however, and after the meal was 
 finished, instructed George to go back to his office 
 and put himself into Smith's hands, while he went 
 to George's home and interviewed his mother. The 
 
68 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 lad was now all excitement at the prospect of so 
 soon leaving London, and it is to be feared he gave 
 Smith a very bad time while the latter saw to his 
 outfitting. That gentleman, however, was imper- 
 turbable, and when finally he announced that all 
 Mr. Deverell's orders had been carried out "as per 
 instructions", George at once started for home by 
 the most expeditious route. 
 
 And, wonder of wonders! his mother was quite 
 prepared to let him go. " You have your father's 
 spirit, George," she said, " and it is useless for me to 
 think I can keep you at home much longer. You 
 would simply fret yourself into a serious illness, 
 and that would never do. Go and see the great 
 world as much and as far as your own mind dictates — 
 I know you will do nothing rash or foolish — and come 
 back to us when you are tired. Mary and I will 
 wait on here looking forward to that day, and we 
 shall welcome you just the same when you return, 
 whether you have done anything great or not." 
 
 "And Mr. Deverell said that you were only going 
 to Colombo to deliver that stone to someone," added 
 Mary. " That will only take a few weeks." 
 
 "Yes, I haven't agreed to join the expedition yet, 
 and am not required to decide until I have found the 
 owner of the moonstone." George spoke as though 
 there was a chance he might not become one of 
 the band of adventurers, yet his words belied him. 
 Already he had made up his mind that the fortunes 
 of the secret expedition and his should be linked 
 together, if there were nothing dishonourable in its 
 programme. Still, he was greatly surprised that his 
 mother had not offered many objections, and mar- 
 velled somewhat as to the reason. He had also 
 much food for reflection in all Mr. Deverell said, 
 
The Man with the Moonstone 69 
 
 and he wondered if there really were any connection 
 with the moonstone and the expedition. He remem- 
 bered that Mr. Deverell had neither denied nor ad- 
 mitted anything he had put forward as a deduction 
 that the expedition was bound for Tibet, and the 
 mystery attached to the tall stranger, who had given 
 him the boot to carry to his father, puzzled him 
 greatly. Then who was this Gilama who had sud- 
 denly come into the business, increasing the mystery 
 tenfold? and why was there need for any secrecy at 
 all? Surely it would have been much better and 
 simpler in every way, and for all concerned, if Mr. 
 Deverell had explained everything. George, of 
 course, was too open-minded himself to think that 
 there could be any honest adventure, the interests of 
 which were best served by absolute secrecy. He did 
 not take into account either that fact, or that Mr. 
 Deverell might not know everything himself. Nor 
 could his sister help him to any solution of the 
 various questions. She was all eagerness to know 
 more of George's first friend. 
 
 "What a capital story it will make!" she said 
 musingly. "'The Man with the Moonstone', just 
 imagine how a story with that title would take ! " 
 
 " That man is going to be me," laughed George, 
 "until I fall in with this Gilama. I wonder if he 
 is a white man or a black, a red or yellow specimen 
 of humanity? 1 * 
 
 But the time was too precious to waste in conjec- 
 ture, seeing that he had already accepted the trust, 
 come good or ill. Mr. Smith had told him he need 
 not trouble packing anything except small items 
 which he wished to take with him, as Mr. Deverell 
 had already caused Edwards, a young clerk about 
 George's build, to be measured for all necessaries 
 
70 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 which Smith and he had not attended to themselves 
 that afternoon. The rest of the day passed quickly, 
 and it was surprising how these small "items" ac- 
 cumulated in the hands of Mrs. Gray and Mary. So 
 much so indeed that, when the time of departure for 
 the station drew near, George found a trunk packed 
 with them as part of his outfit. Mr. Deverell drove 
 round for George about ten o'clock, and together they 
 all went to the station. On the way Mr. Deverell 
 handed George the moonstone, simply rolled up in 
 soft paper. 
 
 "Carry it as you think best yourself, my boy," he 
 said. "Remember only that you are post office, bank, 
 and insurance combined, and are charged solely with 
 the safe delivery of that stone to Gilama and no one 
 else. Everything is arranged for you as you will find ; 
 and whether you go with the expedition ultimately or 
 not, I hope to see you home again soon and in good 
 health, which is better than all that wealth can give 
 you." 
 
 "But how am I to know Gilama, sir?" George 
 asked. "If my mission is such as could not be en- 
 trusted to the post office, how will I be able to 
 tell the real man when I, see him?" 
 
 " He will come to you and tell you all I have told 
 you, and possibly other things as well, which will 
 convince you that he is the man. If you have any 
 doubts whatever keep the stone and wait on. The 
 genuine Gilama will leave no doubt in your mind 
 as to his claim to his own." 
 
 At the station they found the indispensable Smith 
 standing by a carriage door. 
 
 " Is everything right, Smith?" Mr. Deverell asked. 
 
 "Yes, sir. All the baggage is on board and this 
 is the carriage." 
 
The Man with the Moonstone 71 
 
 "Very well; you will find your orders contained in 
 this letter." 
 
 "Yes, sir." Smith put the letter in his pocket and 
 drew back, while Mrs. Gray and Mary gave George 
 a last few words of advice, most of which they had 
 said already. George promised to attend to every- 
 thing they said ; to change his socks if he got his feet 
 wet, and generally to look after his health; and at 
 length the minute of departure arrived. Then there 
 was a moment of leave-taking and very trying it 
 was to all, although poor Smith seemed the most 
 affected, and he had not a friend or relative in the 
 world. 
 
 " I'll look after him," he said to Mrs. Gray, as the 
 train drew out; " I'll not come home without him." 
 
 "And I'll look after your people, George," Mr. 
 Deverell cried, running after to shake hands. "And 
 Smith, remember I expect you to do your duty." 
 
 "Yes, sir," Smith answered, surprised that his em- 
 ployer should actually shake hands with him; next 
 minute the train had cleared the platform. 
 
 " I didn't know you were coming," George said 
 to his companion. "You didn't tell me." 
 
 " I wasn't sure myself until ten minutes ago," said 
 Smith. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 The Comrades Meet 
 
 The stately P. & O. steamer Macedonia steamed 
 slowly down the Suez Canal. She was three hours 
 behind her scheduled time in leaving Port Said, 
 having had to wait that time on the connecting 
 steamer Isis from Brindisi with the Indian, China, 
 and Australasian mail on board. But three hours 
 could easily be made up in the Red Sea ; for the 
 Macedonia had abundance of reserve boiler power, 
 and it was the boast of her engineers that she had 
 never yet been pressed to arrive at any port to 
 time. 
 
 Most of the passengers knew the steamer well by 
 this time, having boarded her at Marseilles. These 
 were lolling about the deck in comfortable chairs, 
 or gathered in little groups discussing the latest 
 English news as received at Port Said. But those 
 who had left London thirty-six hours later, and 
 travelled via Brindisi to join the liner at Port Said, 
 were still in their cabins, arranging their boxes and 
 generally endeavouring to remove the effects of a 
 swift but stormy passage across the Mediterranean 
 on the smaller boat. In most cases this meant re- 
 moving a two days' beard, for shaving had been all 
 but impossible to everyone not a seasoned traveller. 
 
 Standing well forward on the promenade deck was 
 
 72 
 
The Comrades Meet 73 
 
 a tall sparely built man of, so far as appearance went, 
 any age between thirty and forty. He was clean 
 shaven and dressed carelessly in white flannels and 
 a Panama hat. Around him were several ladies 
 with diaries and pencils in their hands, taking down 
 as fast as they could the words that fell from his lips. 
 
 "Yas, ladies, I guess it war' a pretty unusual 
 predicament," he was saying, with a far-away look 
 in his eyes that might have meant anything. " Here 
 was the old tub stuck almost in the identical spot 
 we are sliding through now, for I can throw my 
 memory back on the fact that I was standing on the 
 deck, fair abeam of that French milepost on shore 
 there. Stuck, I say, and the blamed old engines 
 churning out enough revolutions to send us along 
 to Suez slicker than a Mecca-bound pilgrim could 
 think, or an Aden coal heaver change his clothes." 
 He didn't add that the pilgrims seldom think, and 
 that the coal heavers in those parts don't wear 
 clothes. 
 
 "But why were you stuck, Colonel?" asked one 
 of his fair listeners who could evidently write faster 
 than her companions, or else wished to get at the 
 point of the story before she filled in the details. 
 
 The American glanced mildly at her for a moment, 
 as if in reproof. "General was my last handle, 
 madam," he said. "That war' away down some- 
 where in South Amurika, and a revolution was on. 
 I might have been President, but the other fellow 
 got up earlier and got in before me. He was no 
 sportsman, for he took charge of the state exchequer 
 first pop, and then I had to make a strategical retreat 
 
 to the coast to recuperate Oh, I beg your pardon, 
 
 that is a hair of another dog's narrative. We were 
 stuck in this here canal, I think I was saying?" He 
 
74 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 looked around the faces of his companions for cor- 
 roboration, and then went on: "Yas, I guess you 
 might well ask what stuck us, but I'll go a China- 
 man's pigtail to a tomato you won't believe me, 
 when I tell you what it was that did the trick." 
 
 "Oh, yes! we will, General," the ladies agreed. 
 "What was it?" 
 
 " Herring. A slithery, sliding, shining shoal of 
 herring." 
 
 "What! Herring in the Suez Canal?" exclaimed 
 one of his audience in surprise. " I thought herring 
 were cold-water fish " 
 
 "There," interrupted the American triumphantly, 
 "I knew you wouldn't swallow the herring. Some 
 people can't believe anything they haven't seen them- 
 selves." 
 
 "But how could a shoal of herring stop a full- 
 powered steamer?" persisted the doubting one. "I 
 thought " 
 
 ' ' And you can bet your — no, don't bet that — I 
 mean you can take it from this child that he thought 
 too; but he couldn't get away from the fact — I mean 
 the herring. There they were all around us, filling 
 the whole drain pipe, and packed so tightly that 
 there was no room for a streak o' light to pass 
 between. I guess they must have been down in 
 the Red Sea for a hot-water spell; I know anyway 
 that there war' an epidemic among herring that year, 
 people thought was a sort of influenza, and I reckon 
 these herring had gone south to look for warmer 
 water. Now when they were flirting around the old 
 Red Sea I opine some whales came along sort o' 
 sudden like, and the poor herring started on the back 
 track in such a hurry, and in such a crowd, that they 
 got jammed in the narrow canal. However, there we 
 
The Comrades Meet 75 
 
 were getting slowly pushed back, for I can tell you, 
 and you can figure it out for yourself if you don't 
 believe me, that ten hundred million herring tails 
 flapping along is equal to a good bit of horse- 
 power. To make things worse our skipper went on 
 strike. He said he didn't get his ticket for making 
 compressed beef out o' herring, and gave orders 
 to go full speed astern." 
 
 The raconteur paused reflectively and fumbled ab- 
 stractedly for a cigar. " I suppose none of you ladies 
 has got a match?" he asked. 
 
 " Did you go astern?" asked a lady, ignoring his 
 request. 
 
 The American's eyes shone. "Go astern?" he 
 cried. " I guess there ain't any combination of cir- 
 cumstance on this little planet that can make a free 
 and non-tax-paying citizen of the United States go 
 back. No, siree — I mean ladies — forward is my 
 motto, so when the captain left the bridge I took 
 command, and then you may allow things got 
 painted with another colour." He turned to walk 
 away, but a chorus of reproaches assailed him, and 
 he stayed his strategical retreat. An American is 
 always gallant. 
 
 "I've told you the whole yarn, ladies," he expos- 
 tulated. "There ain't any more to say. You see 
 it war' all my own work after that, and Samuel P. 
 Clement of New York City isn't the man to go 
 about blowing his own horn." 
 
 "Oh, but do tell us how you got out of .your pre- 
 dicament, Mr. Clement," one of the ladies entreated. 
 " It is useful information you are giving, and modesty 
 should not be allowed to interfere with facts." 
 
 "That is very true, but I haven't had a smoke 
 to-day," Mr. Clement spoke feelingly. 
 
76 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 " But tell us what you did, and then go and smoke 
 as much as you like," suggested another fair one 
 brilliantly. "I want to have the whole story in all 
 the letters I send home from Aden." 
 
 "Well, seeing you insist upon having the whole 
 truth about that most unusual experience, here goes. 
 I sprang upon the bridge, and ordered all the pas- 
 sengers and crew to go as far aft as they could get. 
 Most of them were forward at the time, catching the 
 fish in big iron scoops. Well, as I saw, when they 
 all moved to the stern, the bows became so much 
 lighter, and the stern so much heavier, that the ship 
 was tilted up until the prow was out of the water. 
 Then, without a one per cent of a second's hesitation, 
 I ordered the engineer to shut off all the steam from 
 the bathrooms and the cooking galley, and turn it 
 on to the engines. With this increased power the 
 ship was driven right out of the water on to the top 
 of the herring, and then — I forgot to tell you before 
 that she was a paddle steamer — the paddles acted like 
 wheels, and although we got a bit shaken, and some 
 of the passengers lost their false teeth, we ran right 
 over them until we came to the end, and plumped 
 back into the water again. An hour afterwards all 
 we could see was a streak of silver far astern where 
 the herring were, and a long line of big steamers 
 jammed in front of that belt stretching right back to 
 Port Said. I never heard how the canal was cleared 
 of these herring, but I expect fish was mighty cheap 
 in Egypt for some time afterwards. Anyhow, we 
 were told at Suez that the British Fleet had been 
 summoned to Port Said, and when well down the 
 Red Sea we heard an explosion that almost shook 
 the water from under us, and pretty near caused 
 Mount Sinai to topple into the sea, and for three 
 
The Comrades Meet 77 
 
 weeks after that the air was full of scales, and our 
 cigars all tasted fishy." 
 
 The storyteller came to a halt, and looked dreamily 
 away over the desert on the starboard side. Perhaps 
 he was again longing for the flavour of a fishy cigar, 
 and the ladies scribbled, as if their lives depended 
 on their speed to get down the end of the story. 
 
 "And is all that true?" finally one asked with the 
 candour born of innocence. Next moment she was 
 sorry she had spoken. Mr. Clement drew himself 
 up indignantly, and for a moment it seemed as if he 
 had lost the power of articulation. But for a moment 
 only; the next he had bowed politely to the ques- 
 tioner, and in his most careful form of speech said: 
 "You do not know Samuel P. Clement, or you 
 would not ask such a question." His words cer- 
 tainly allowed of two meanings being taken from 
 them, but that fact did not seem to trouble Samuel 
 P. Clement, and before the doubting lady could ex- 
 plain that she didn't really mean to question his 
 veracity, he had stalked majestically away in the 
 direction of the smoke-room, where the ladies must 
 not follow. 
 
 Round the corner of the music saloon, and hidden 
 from the group just broken up, was a young man 
 sitting in a deck chair writing with a fountain pen. 
 He could not help hearing Mr. Clement's strange 
 tale of the deep, and when that gentleman had de- 
 parted he got up and looked down the deck to see 
 who he was. "He certainly has a vivid imagina- 
 tion," he remarked to himself. " I wonder what sort 
 of tale he would tell if he had my last few days' ex- 
 perience to work upon? But I'll go and see what 
 Smith is doing now. The poor fellow doesn't seem 
 able to make friends." 
 
78 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 But Smith had evidently regained his self-confi- 
 dence at last/ He was playing deck quoits with a 
 missionary and two ladies of uncertain age, and 
 even vying with his male companion in performing 
 these little actions of courtesy which sometimes render 
 ship life very agreeable. George sat down on a chair 
 near and watched the game. The missionary was 
 an expert, but Smith was fast picking up the little 
 points in the art of the game, and his comrade's gaze 
 soon wandered over the great desert, which stretched 
 away on either side until blended with the horizon. 
 It was all new to him, yet everything seemed strangely 
 familiar, for in his mind he had often pictured just 
 such a scene as now lay before him. Gradually the 
 desert became blurred before his eyes, and in its 
 place came towering snow-clad mountain ranges, over 
 which he saw men painfully making their way. Like 
 a picture on a screen they dissolved into a great wind- 
 swept plateau, upon which roamed hordes of strange- 
 looking men and animals. Suddenly, into his dream 
 picture there flashed a city, white and golden, and 
 crowned with a mighty and gorgeous palace that sat 
 upon a commanding hilltop. And now he was inside 
 that palace. Priests were all around him, and he 
 was in great danger. But he had no fear, for had 
 he not the talisman which was stronger than all the 
 wiles of priestcraft? Had he not the sacred moon- 
 stone? "Why, yes," he exclaimed, starting up, 
 "I have." 
 
 He was on the deck of the Macedonia, nearing the 
 Bitter Lakes in the Suez Canal. 
 
 "Guess you were cheating old Grandfather Time, 
 young man," a voice said beside him, and turning 
 quickly George recognized the American hero of the 
 herring adventure. 
 
The Comrades Meet 79 
 
 "Yes," he laughed, "I must have fallen asleep. 
 I didn't have much crossing from Brindisi." 
 
 " No, sometimes that passage is not exactly like 
 sailing on a lake. I always prefer to join the big 
 steamer at Marseilles. Of course you've got to leave 
 that little village of London a day and a half earlier, 
 but that is one of the advantages of the French route 
 in my opinion." 
 
 ' ' Did you leave Victoria Station last Thursday 
 morning?" George asked interestedly. 
 
 "Yas, and I'll bet that most people on this ship 
 who didn't come all the way on board from Tilbury 
 did the same. Are you going far?" 
 
 "Colombo. Do you happen to know that town 
 well?" 
 
 "I should smile. Many a mad affair I've been 
 mixed up in that began in Colombo. You see it is 
 a sort of halfway house between old England and 
 Australia, and it is mighty convenient, too, to China, 
 Siam, the Straits, Burmah, or the Dutch islands. 
 Some people prefer Singapore as a centre, but give 
 me Colombo every time. All sea routes split from 
 there, like spokes from the hub of a wheel." 
 
 " Do you know if there are many on board bound 
 for Colombo?" 
 
 " A good few. What line are you going to take up 
 there? You are not a tea expert, are youf" 
 
 "No, I'm nothing at all. I'm not quite settled in 
 my mind what I shall do. Someone told me there was 
 a party of explorers on this ship going to Colombo." 
 
 "Well, you can tell someone that Samuel P. 
 Clement doesn't know them, and I guess he knows 
 most people on this barge." 
 
 "Oh, I am not greatly interested; I only wanted to 
 see if I could pick them out." 
 
80 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 " I guess you can't do it, because they're not here. 
 The only party on board that I know of is a company 
 of actors going out to tour round Australia, and there 
 isn't much trouble in telling who they are. I'm going 
 off at Colombo myself. I have an appointment to 
 keep there on Saturday next in the Galle Face Hotel 
 at six o'clock." 
 
 " But we are only due there on Saturday afternoon. 
 What if we are late?" 
 
 "Oh, I'll give the P. & O. credit for never being 
 late. If there's any chance of that, I'll get off and 
 swim. I mustn't disappoint my friends whatever 
 happens, and they give you an Ai dinner at the 
 Galle Face." 
 
 "But your friends will know the reason of your 
 non-appearance if the steamer does not get in." 
 
 " Yes, but they might not know me. I don't know 
 them, and this dinner is to be our first introduction. 
 Those who don't roll up then don't count, but 
 you can bet your whiskers this child will be 
 there." 
 
 " You never saw the people you are going to meet? 
 Surely that is odd. I too have to meet a man I don't 
 know." 
 
 " Well, I don't suppose it is me, young man. My 
 name is Samuel P. Clements, commonly described 
 by those who know him as George Washington the 
 Second." 
 
 "And my name is George Gray. I am not well 
 enough known to have any other name." 
 
 "Then shake, George Gray. There is the hand 
 of a man who never told a lie. In fact, I can't; there 
 is a bell somewhere in my throat which rings when 
 I try. I don't suppose you know much about the 
 country we are passing through just now?" 
 
The Comrades Meet 81 
 
 "Not much. This is my first trip away from 
 home — at least, that I remember." 
 
 "Now you don't mean to tell me so. Why, you 
 won't know anything about the famous silver weed 
 that grows hereabouts. See that tuft of grass-like 
 stuff on the bank?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Well, that is silver weed; it grows all over the 
 desert, and when you pull it up by the root you 
 always find a chunk of silver at the very bottom, 
 with the roots all twisted round it." 
 
 "Indeed! I think I heard a bell ring just now." 
 
 "No, that was only the second-saloon dinner bell. 
 Oh, bless it! here are some more diary writers. I 
 suppose I'll have to give them some more wonderful 
 experiences. I tell you, Mr. Gray, a truth-loving 
 man like me has a hard time of it on these mail 
 boats. But I never yet shirked my duty, so here 
 goes." He walked over to the ladies, who had been 
 standing near during the last few minutes with 
 diaries in hand. They apparently were interested 
 in the game of deck quoits now nearing a finish, but 
 whether they really were or not, George saw that 
 they had found something of greater interest shortly 
 after in the most wondrous tale Mr. Samuel P. Clement 
 was relating for their benefit. 
 
 Half an hour later the lunch gong was sounded, 
 and, on going down to the saloon, George found 
 himself placed next to the missionary who had been 
 playing with Smith. He was at once impressed 
 with his table companion. He was bound for China, 
 where he had already spent a number of years as a 
 medical missionary. George told him he was bound 
 for Colombo, and the other said that he too had 
 business there that might cause him to have to break 
 
 (0 9) 6 
 
82 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 his journey until the next steamer. He had made a 
 special study of the Chinese language, and was con- 
 versant with many of its various dialects. 
 
 Immediately after lunch Smith came up to George 
 mysteriously, and said in a whisper, " I've found one 
 of them already." 
 
 Now Smith, as he himself had informed George, 
 knew nothing about the object of Mr. Deverell's secret 
 expedition, nor of George's mission. He only knew 
 that Mr. Deverell had been advertising for men to 
 take part in an enterprise which young Tom Deverell, 
 his employer's son, had arranged. What he himself 
 was to do after they reached Colombo he did not 
 know, but he expected to find instruction awaiting 
 him as to what was expected of him. He had none 
 of the qualities required in those who were members 
 of the expedition, nor did he for a moment think he 
 was to be one of the party. But all the men who 
 had answered the advertisement had passed through 
 Smith's hands, and since joining the big steamer he 
 had been on the lookout for any of those men. Of 
 course he did not know whether Mr. Deverell had 
 accepted the services of all those who had applied or 
 not, as Mr. Deverell never told anyone his affairs. 
 He, however, had expected to find Mr. Tom Deverell 
 on board the liner, for he knew that he had left Vic- 
 toria Station with the Marseilles express, and it was 
 only the hint given by George that perhaps his em- 
 ployer's son never really intended to travel by the 
 Macedonia, but wished to make some people think 
 he did, that eased his mind. Now, however, he was 
 greatly excited, and his words at once sent a thrill 
 through George. 
 
 "Who is he?" he whispered back. "Point him 
 out to me." 
 
The Comrades Meet 83 
 
 " I sat opposite him at table," Smith replied, "and 
 I recognized him at once as one of the men who 
 applied to join the expedition. Look! there he is 
 entering the smoke-room now, that little man with 
 the broad shoulders." 
 
 George looked as directed, and saw a man answer- 
 ing Smith's description pass into the smoke-room. 
 
 "Are you sure that is one of the band, Smith?" 
 George asked. 
 
 " Sure? Of course I am. Could there be two men 
 in the world like that? I am certain he is broader 
 than he is long. Ought I to go and speak to him?" 
 
 " By no means. He may not wish to be known. 
 Look round the ship and see if you can recognize 
 any more men, but don't let them see that you have 
 spotted them if you do find any." 
 
 Smith walked away, and George wondered what he 
 should do. " I have no right to intrude myself upon 
 this man, even if he is a member of the secret expe- 
 dition," he concluded. " But I rather think that Mr. 
 Deverell intended me to use my wits where any op- 
 portunity offered. Ah, here is my friend with the 
 bell in his throat!" 
 
 "Well, how go things now?" cheerily called out 
 the American. "These are the Bitter Lakes you 
 see shining ahead. They are so bitter with salt and 
 other things that even the live fish in them are 
 pickled. The Egyptians used to bring their mum- 
 mies down to them and give them a swish about in 
 the brine, until they got coated with a film of some- 
 thing that for ever after preserved them from decay. 
 Britain had to stop that game though," he added as 
 an afterthought, before George made any reply to this 
 most questionable statement. "You see, when they 
 started bringing living people along and fixing their 
 
84 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 faces with the film, so that they could never look older, 
 it was time Did you say you heard a bell?" 
 
 " I didn't, but I'm sure it must have been ringing 
 all the same," laughed George. "But forget for a 
 moment, please, that you are George Washington 
 the Second, and tell me if you happen to know who 
 that little man with the very broad shoulders is? He 
 is in the smoke-room just now." 
 
 "Oh, you mean the fellow whose name is down 
 on the passenger list as Charles Henry James Lynd- 
 hurst? No one can tell anything about him. He 
 came on board at Marseilles, and hasn't been known 
 to open his mouth except at feeding time since. 
 Oh, you bet he's about the best secret keeper I 
 ever ran across. He and that big-boned Scotsman 
 with the corrugated face coming along the deck are 
 always playing draughts together, but although the 
 Scot will growl at a steward sometimes, and say 
 good-morning as pleasantly as his face will let him 
 to everyone, the little fellow won't even swear when 
 the board is wiped clean of his men." 
 
 " I rather like a man of his disposition," George 
 remarked. "Anything mysterious always has an 
 attraction for me. I should very much like to know 
 him." 
 
 "Then by the Great G. W. here is your very 
 chance!" cried the American. "Great Mississippi! 
 Who ever got what they wanted so pat before? See 
 that deck chair there? Well, I guess that is your 
 little friend's pipe lying on it, and he'll be looking 
 for it by this time. You take it to him and ask him 
 if it is his, and don't give it up until he answers; 
 I'll come after you to see the fun." 
 
 Before his friend had finished speaking George 
 had the pipe in his hands. It was a peculiar pipe 
 
The Comrades Meet 85 
 
 in many ways, being exquisitely mounted with gold 
 ornamentations, on which were engraven weird Chi- 
 nese symbols. 
 
 The silent man was alone in the smoke-room when 
 the two conspirators entered, all the usual frequenters 
 being on deck watching the Macedonia being "tied 
 up " to allow a homeward-bound British warship to 
 pass. A set draught board was on the table before 
 him, and he seemed to be pondering over the different 
 opening moves of the game. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, sir, but I believe this is your 
 property," George began, and slowly the man swung 
 round and looked at the speaker. For a moment a 
 look of intense surprise spread over his features, but 
 quickly it passed away, and he shook his head nega- 
 tively and turned to the board again. 
 
 " I am sorry I interrupted you, then," said George. 
 " I felt almost sure it was yours." 
 
 Not a word spoke the man, but he dived one hand 
 into an inner pocket and produced a pipe the exact 
 counterpart of the one George held. A shadow of 
 a smile flitted across his weather-beaten face as he 
 noticed George's astonishment, then he resumed his 
 study. 
 
 "Well, youngster," Samuel P. Clement remarked, 
 as George replaced the pipe in the chair where he 
 had found it, "I'll admit you've run against a mystery 
 of some kind first shot. These pipes are riot so com- 
 mon as our tongue-tied friend C.H.J.L. would have 
 us believe. I'll go nap that pipe cost nearly the 
 price of a passage ticket. Watch who takes it 
 away." 
 
 But no one claimed the pipe, and finally one of 
 the deck stewards picked it up and gave it to his 
 superior, who placed it in the rack in the companion 
 
86 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 way among other articles that had already got sepa- 
 rated from their owners. 
 
 The rest of the day passed very quickly indeed 
 with both George and Smith. Everything interested 
 them; and the knowledge that men were on board 
 whom as yet they did not know, but who were en- 
 gaged in the same venture as they were themselves, 
 added an air of mystery highly pleasing. There 
 was a concert on deck that evening, at which the 
 missionary showed himself to be a master of song, 
 and the big Scotsman a violinist of no mean order. 
 
 Next morning the Macedonia was screwing down 
 the Gulf of Suez at full speed. Extra awnings were 
 put up to ward off the rays of the sun, fast becoming 
 more intense and penetrating as the Red Sea proper 
 was neared. Early in the forenoon Mount Sinai came 
 into view, and then everyone settled down to read 
 or sleep, or in any other way pass the time with the 
 minimum of exertion. During the day Smith came 
 to George with a story that was being spread about 
 the ship, to the effect that an Indian prince was on 
 board. 
 
 "Where is he?" George asked, only slightly in- 
 terested; he did not care much, though there were 
 dozens of rajahs on board. 
 
 "No one knows," Smith answered. "He lives 
 in his stateroom all day, and that American fellow 
 told me that he goes about for exercise at night 
 dressed as a sarang, or whatever you call these 
 Lascar crew chiefs. He says he is going home to 
 his native land to start on a pilgrimage to either 
 Lhasa or Mecca, according to whether he is a 
 Buddhist or a Mohammedan." 
 
 "Was it the American who said all this to you?" 
 George was now amused. 
 
The Comrades Meet 87 
 
 ' ' He didn't say it all to me exactly ; he told every- 
 one in the smoke-room. He said he saw him come 
 on board in a big basket at Port Said." 
 
 " Well, Smith, you needn't believe the story. Mr. 
 Clement has a greater imagination than even you 
 have, only he doesn't believe anything he hears him- 
 self. In fact, Smith, you and I have been looking 
 for mysteries ever since we left London, and I am 
 beginning to see that if we keep on doing so, we'll 
 run against some pretty big ones, specially prepared 
 for green people like us. I doubt even now if there 
 is any secret expedition on board, and if it wasn't 
 that I am carrying the moon " He caught him- 
 self up abruptly and laughed. " No, Smith," he 
 said, " we are both fools, and probably we shall find 
 that out when we reach Colombo. Secret expeditions 
 are out of fashion in the twentieth century." 
 
 "But surely you don't think that Mr. Deverell 
 would say there was such a thing if there were not?" 
 Smith gasped. The idea of doubting his employer 
 in any way was as remote from him, as were his 
 chances of becoming Lord Mayor of London. 
 
 George hesitated before replying. "I didn't mean 
 that exactly," he said; "I had forgotten Mr. Dever- 
 ell's words. I was thinking more of the men in the 
 
 motor car and Oh, let us cease worrying about 
 
 what is outside our duties, Smith, and have a good 
 time while we can. I suppose we shall know all we 
 are intended to know on Saturday week, or soon 
 after." 
 
 Smith seemed to think George's suggestion a good 
 one, and forthwith departed to play " bullboard" with 
 some elderly ladies. 
 
 The day passed on, and suddenly, George thought, 
 the ship was ablaze with electric lights: night had 
 
88 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 closed in on the shark-infested waters of the Red Sea, 
 and Mount Sinai's bald summit was glistening above 
 some fleecy clouds in the moonlight far astern. 
 
 On Sunday Aden was reached, where the Bombay 
 and other Indian passengers changed into the con- 
 necting steamer awaiting, and that same night the 
 Macedonia was heading straight for distant Colombo, 
 the broad track she left in her wake glowing with 
 phosphorescent animalcules as if on fire. George and 
 Smith had now grown accustomed to their surround- 
 ings and were general favourites, the one chiefly with 
 the male passengers because of his modesty, bright 
 and cheerful manner, and general skill at all deck 
 games, and the other because of his inherent courtesy 
 and attention to some elderly ladies, who depended 
 solely upon the missionary and him for entertain- 
 ment. The island of Socotra was soon left behind, 
 and then people began to lose count of the days, 
 knowing only that they would know when Saturday 
 came round by the fact that they would be in Colombo 
 harbour. 
 
 Several times George made an attempt to open up 
 conversation with the little silent man, and even got 
 the length of playing a game of draughts with him, 
 but he could not induce him to utter a word further 
 than the interjection "Good!" when George once got 
 out of a close corner by a brilliant move, which really 
 was accidental on his part. The taciturn Scot, too, 
 was a puzzle to the lad. He was all good nature, 
 but there was a seriousness behind his words and 
 actions that seemed to say his life had been a stren- 
 uous one, and that he had never been used to the 
 little artificialities of society life, which tend to make 
 it more enjoyable. He sometimes would walk with 
 George in the evening, and tell him strange stories 
 
The Comrades Meet 89 
 
 of wild adventures and experiences in remote corners 
 of the globe, of gold rushes, of filibustering expedi- 
 tions, of waterless deserts, and fever-haunted jungles. 
 George grew to like this battle-scarred wanderer very 
 much. He thought that his life would make a book 
 more interesting than any story; yet the man never 
 talked of himself. In the stories which George drew 
 from him it was his comrades he glorified — apparently 
 he had only been a specially protected onlooker. 
 But George knew differently. He felt that he was 
 talking to a man who did great things and thought 
 nothing of them — one who would sink himself entirely 
 in the interests of those lucky enough to be his 
 comrades. 
 
 The American also drew George to him. The lad 
 enjoyed a talk with him, because of his remarkable 
 fertility of imagination and the free rein he gave his 
 fancy. He told such wonderful stories, and yet they 
 were calculated not to deceive, as their improbability 
 was stamped all over them, and if by chance his 
 listeners did believe him — which, excepting the lady 
 diary writers, was not often — he always finished with 
 a statement which no half-intelligent person could 
 possibly mistake for anything else than a joke to 
 throw ridicule on what he had previously said. 
 
 Among the other passengers the missionary was 
 George's greatest friend. He was one who could 
 suit himself exactly to the company he happened 
 to be in, and yet always retain his dignity. He 
 could enjoy a joke, play games with the elderly 
 ladies — the young ones he left severely alone — 
 sing at a deck concert, and lead the church service 
 in the saloon. He, too, was of a roving disposition, 
 and, as he confided to George, more fit to be a 
 happy-go-lucky gold prospector than what he was. 
 
go Through the. Heart of Tibet 
 
 He had tried various times to join some exploring 
 party, but in his own words, " no expedition ever 
 wanted a parson with them ". 
 
 He was an extremely broad-minded man, and had 
 made a study of Confucianism, Buddhism, Moham- 
 medanism, and every other religion with which he 
 had come into contact, finding something to admire 
 in all. Often he and George would pace the deck 
 together after dinner and talk until the hour grew 
 late. He had a great longing to go to Tibet, and 
 had tried to enter it once from the Chinese side, but 
 without success, having been met and turned on the 
 border. But he knew much about the ways of the 
 strange dwellers of the land beyond the Himalayas, 
 and told George many of their legends which were 
 current in China. 
 
 But a voyage, however long, comes to an end, and 
 on P. & O. steamers always to schedule time. One 
 day Mr. Clement came up to George, as he leaned 
 on the gunwale gazing at a low-lying, palm-dotted 
 coral island rising out of the haze on the port bow. 
 He stood beside the youth for a moment as if lost 
 in reflection, then he remarked musingly: "Dear 
 old Minacoy! I never seem able to break far away 
 from your wave-washed strand. " He shook his head 
 sadly and fixed his eyes on the island, now rapidly 
 growing distinct in detail. 
 
 " Why, what is the matter with you, Mr. Clement?" 
 George enquired sympathetically. " Did you lose 
 any dear friend near that island? They tell me these 
 coral islands are a great danger to shipping." 
 
 Samuel P. Clement roused himself with a start. 
 "I had forgotten anyone was near," he said apolo- 
 getically. ' ' Excuse my emotion. Do you see that 
 lighthouse standing forth so proudly on the island, 
 
The Comrades Meet 91 
 
 supreme amidst the stormy breakers that wage cease- 
 less war upon its noble pile ?" 
 
 " I do, Mr. Clement." 
 
 "You're in a hurry to-day, young man. Colombo 
 is still a day's sail from here." 
 
 "I am sorry I spoke. Go on with your story; 
 your last words were ' noble pile '." 
 
 "Ah! yes. Now would you believe that it was I, 
 Samuel P. Clement, who erected that noble pile, 
 alone, unaided, and uncared for, marooned by a 
 heartless crew upon that beautiful coral beach, and 
 
 left to die Ah, confound that bell ! It will never 
 
 let me tell a story. Good morning!" He walked 
 away, and George laughed heartily. He thought 
 his friend's fertile brain was beginning to feel the 
 need of recuperation. 
 
 "Ah! well," he said to himself, "what with Indian 
 princes on pilgrimage, herring in the Suez Canal, 
 and many other wonderful things, he has kept the 
 people on board from thinking that nothing ever 
 happens at sea nowadays. I shall miss his kindly 
 face afterwards, I know. I wonder why it is that 
 one is always forced to part from people one likes, 
 and invariably compelled by circumstances to go 
 through life in the company of people one doesn't 
 
 care for, however good they may be Hullo, 
 
 Smith! what has happened? Have you seen a 
 ghost or the Indian Prince?" 
 
 "More than that; I found this lying on my hair 
 brush when I went down to the cabin just now to 
 give my hair a bit dress up before lunch." He 
 held a letter in his hand, and was very much 
 excited. 
 
 George took the letter from him. It was addressed: 
 ' Mr. William Smith, s.s. Macedonia, off Minacoy." 
 
92 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 It bore no date stamp nor any other mark what- 
 soever. 
 
 George laughed. "Well, open it," he said. "It 
 is probably a note inviting you to afternoon tea." 
 
 "It is Mr. Tom Deverell's handwriting. How did 
 it come here?" 
 
 "Nonsense, Smith! You're nervous because to- 
 morrow the voyage will be ended, and we don't know 
 what we are to do when we get on shore. Open the 
 letter anyway; you're meant to read it, I suppose." 
 
 Without a word Smith methodically did as directed. 
 It was a short note, and in a second or so Smith had 
 mastered its contents. With an expression of utter 
 bewilderment he then handed it to his companion. 
 It read: "To-morrow, as soon as convenient, you 
 will land and go to the Galle Face Hotel. There 
 you will ask if a room has been engaged for you, 
 giving your name and that of your present com- 
 panion, whom you will take with you. You will 
 then both do as the hotel manager directs. You 
 needn't trouble to enquire how this was delivered." 
 There was no signature, but Smith evidently did 
 not require that clue to the sender's identity. He 
 looked at George blankly. "What do you make 
 of it?" he asked. 
 
 "The order is plain enough," George answered. 
 " It shows, too, that we are being well looked after 
 by someone. We'll go to the Galle Face as 
 directed, of course." 
 
 " But how did the letter come here?" 
 
 " Dear me, Smith, what does that matter? I should 
 say the leader of the expedition we have almost for- 
 gotten is on board this ship, although we don't know 
 him. He evidently knows us, however. Perhaps he 
 received a cable about us at Port Said or Aden." 
 
The Comrades Meet 93 
 
 "But the handwriting? That couldn't be cabled. 
 It is Mr. Tom's handwriting." 
 
 "In that case Mr. Tom Deverell must be on the 
 ship." 
 
 " But he is not. I have spoken to every man 
 whose name is on the passenger list in both second 
 and first-saloon." 
 
 And George was puzzled too, although it pleased 
 him to pretend to Smith that he thought little of the 
 matter. 
 
 "What is the use of worrying anyhow?" he said, 
 posing as a philosopher. "We'll carry out instruc- 
 tions as given in your note. It is quite clear to me 
 that we are not expected to know too much. The 
 business, whatever it is, is in capable hands ; so why 
 should we worry?" 
 
 But worry they did all the rest of the day. That 
 night a grand concert was given on deck, at the con- 
 clusion of which " Auld Lang Syne" was sung. 
 To-morrow many friends would part, and in only a 
 few cases would they ever meet again. Australia 
 would claim the most of them, China and the far 
 East a good few, and the rest would go up country 
 from Colombo, to wherever their respective destina- 
 tions called them. 
 
 Prompt to time the Macedonia dropped anchor in 
 the magnificent harbour, and in the first steam tender 
 that went shoreward were George and Smith. George 
 had not said goodbye to his special friends, as it so 
 happened they were all going off at Colombo too, 
 although the missionary intended to continue his 
 journey with the next steamer. 
 
 Hailing two rickshaws, as if used to the customs 
 of the East all his life, George gave the fleet-footed 
 Cingalese their directions, and both were speedily 
 
94 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 wheele4 out towards the Galle Face Hotel, which 
 lay a considerable distance from the town proper. 
 Smith had never seen an Oriental town before, and 
 was agape with wonder and astonishment, as his eyes 
 took in the panorama of life which goes to make 
 all such cities. Here were large shops, bazaars, and 
 hotels, the last being apparently even more magni- 
 ficent than those in London. And the people inter- 
 ested him greatly. A crowd of half-naked nonde- 
 scripts were running after the rickshaws, shouting 
 and gesticulating to such an extent, that the unso- 
 phisticated Smith thought his one-man-power chariot 
 was on fire. They were merely begging, however, 
 as he eventually discovered. He wondered in a dim 
 sort of way if the people in the clinging robes were 
 men or women. Their hair was coiled up neatly 
 behind, and held in position by a comb. True, they 
 nearly all sported graceful, coal-black moustaches, 
 but he thought that in Ceylon women might have 
 cultivated that adornment as well as the sterner sex. 
 A team of elephants passed, pulling a large van 
 bearing the advertisement of a world-famous tea 
 firm ; then some goats ran across the street, as if to 
 see what manner of new arrival he was. All the 
 white men he saw looked very important, and wore 
 great white helmets ; but he noticed that the begging 
 fraternity did not trouble them with their sorrows. 
 " I suppose these beggars know I have just landed," 
 he mused sagely. " I must try to look as if I had 
 been here all my life, and perhaps then they will 
 not be so troublesome. But why don't they annoy 
 young Gray?" 
 
 This was puzzling, the hawkers and beggars left 
 George's rickshaw severely alone. Smith could not 
 understand the reason, but it was not very far to seek. 
 
The Comrades Meet 95 
 
 George's very early days had been spent in India, 
 and instinctively he knew how to comport himself 
 among natives. He showed no surprise at anything 
 he saw, yet Colombo was as new to him as to Smith, 
 and there was no diffidence in the manner in which 
 he spoke to his human steed. The onlookers simply 
 thought that George was a young sahib down from his 
 tea estate, to meet another sahib just out from the great 
 sunless land which the white man called home. They 
 knew it was wasted effort to importune one who knew 
 their little ways, so they allowed George's rickshaw to 
 get ahead in peace, and concentrated all their efforts 
 to retard Smith and make him listen to their woes* 
 And this they had nearly accomplished, for Smith's 
 runner, being in league with the begging fraternity, 
 had suddenly begun to limp, and soon after he 
 stopped entirely. " I hurt foot," he turned and said 
 to his fare, ' ' I need doctor now ; you give money 
 help mother, father, sisters, an' brothers." 
 
 " Yes, yes," said the soft-hearted Smith. " But do 
 try and get me out of this mob, or get me another 
 what-you-call-thems to take me after my friend." 
 
 The man did not understand, and next moment the 
 crowd, knowing from the mysterious signs of their 
 compatriot that Smith was soft-hearted, otherwise he 
 would never have allowed him to stop, were clamour- 
 ing round the unfortunate one for money, for his 
 clothes, for anything and everything. 
 
 " Oh, I say," he began, " I am not a millionaire." 
 
 "Give! Give!" shouted the mob, each man, 
 woman, and child displaying some hideous sore 
 about his or her person, the most valuable asset in 
 the possession of the exhibitor. 
 
 Again Smith, still seated in the rickshaw, made an 
 appeal, but with no effect, and he was wondering if 
 
96 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 he should make a desperate dash towards some hel- 
 meted white people farther down the street, when, as 
 if by magic, his tormentors melted away, and the 
 little silent man of the Macedonia strode up to him 
 uttering strings of strange words, which seemed to 
 strike terror to the heart of those yet within hearing 
 distance. 
 
 " Where are you going?" he asked Smith in Eng- 
 lish, and, on receiving his reply, hurled a torrent of 
 language at the owner of the rickshaw, which had the 
 effect of making that erstwhile lame gentleman pick 
 up the trams, and start off at a speed which Smith 
 had not dreamt was within the power of man, black 
 or white, to attain. The result was that Smith was 
 deposited at the Galle Face Hotel immediately behind 
 George, and, strange to say, his first words were not 
 to tell of his experiences. 
 
 " He spoke to me!" he cried; " he spoke to me!" 
 
 "Who did?" asked his companion, who did not 
 know what Smith had gone through. 
 
 "The little broad-shouldered man, and, my good- 
 ness! he can throw words out in mouthfuls." 
 
 "I shouldn't like him to throw them at me," 
 George laughed; "but you are chancellor of the ex- 
 chequer, give these rickshaw men a rupee each, and 
 let us get inside." 
 
 And despite their loud lamentations one rupee 
 was all they got. Smith had learned his lesson, and 
 besides, it was just double the legal fare. 
 
 " Is there a room engaged for us?" Smith asked 
 politely, as someone of importance in the hotel came 
 forward. "My friend's name is George Gray, and 
 mine is Smith." 
 
 The manager smiled sweetly. "Yes," he said. 
 " Vil you kindly step in here, and I vil order the 
 
The Comrades Meet 97 
 
 dinner mineself." He ushered them into a large 
 apartment as he spoke, and departed to give some 
 order. 
 
 "This looks business-like anyway," said George, 
 eyeing the table set for dinner in the middle of 
 the room. " I wonder what our friends will be 
 like." 
 
 " If this table is set for our benefit," said Smith, 
 "there are going to be eight people here." 
 
 ' ' Oh, this will be a sort of overflow room, I ex- 
 pect," George went on. " I noticed a very large 
 dining-hall opening off the passage as we came in. 
 Hullo! here's Mr. Clement." 
 
 "What! you young rascals, are you here already?" 
 cried the American, entering the room. "Is the 
 hotel the first place you make for when you get on 
 shore?" 
 
 "We are to meet some friends here," George 
 explained; "and, now I remember, you are also 
 keeping an appointment." 
 
 " Yas, and I guess I've come a long way to do it. 
 But call me a nigger if the whole ship ain't coming 
 here to dine. Here comes old Mac, and hullo! 
 there's that missionary fellow just come off a rick- 
 shaw outside." Mr. Clement was standing at the 
 window, and his watch was in his hand. 
 
 The door opened, and the missionary and the 
 Scot came in together. "Dear me, gentlemen," the 
 former cried cheerily. " We haven't got scattered to 
 the ends of the earth yet, I'm glad to see. I came 
 here to meet some friends, but I hope you'll stay and 
 be my guests afterwards." 
 
 "I've to see some people here myself," said Mac- 
 andrew. "Hullo! Who is this?" 
 
 Again the door opened, and the little man who had 
 
 (0 9) 7 
 
98 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 come to Smith's rescue walked into the room. He 
 smiled all round, and threw himself into a chair. 
 
 "My friends are not to time," Mr. Clement sud- 
 denly remarked; "six o'clock was my appointment." 
 
 "Why, that was my hour too," said the mis- 
 sionary. 
 
 " That seems to be a vera popular hour, then, for it 
 happens to be mine too," put in the Scot. 
 
 " And mine, boys." The speaker was the little 
 man, and everyone looked round in astonishment. 
 After all, he could speak. 
 
 At that moment the hour of six was rung out on the 
 hotel gong, and Mr. Clement said: "Well, boys, I 
 move we have a jolly good dinner ourselves. We've 
 all come here to meet friends, it seems, and none of 
 them have turned up, so let us get along without 
 them." 
 
 The Scot laughed grimly. "It is a good idea," 
 he said. "Our friends ought to have kept their 
 appointments." 
 
 "They have," a voice called out, and a tall dis- 
 tinguished-looking native gentleman entered. 
 
 "The pilgrim Prince!" cried Macallister, and all 
 stared at the newcomer. 
 
 "Gentlemen, we have met," that personage said 
 quietly, "and now for dinner." 
 
THE PILGRIM PRINCE 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 The Prince 
 
 The stranger sat down and smiled genially all round. 
 He was a very handsome man of about thirty years 
 of age, apparently, and of a lighter complexion than 
 was usual among the sons of tropical India. He 
 was dressed in faultless native attire, and in his 
 turban shone a jewel of priceless value. For fully 
 a minute the other six occupants of the room stared 
 at him and at each other in non-comprehending 
 silence, then light began to dawn upon all simul- 
 taneously, and an expression of pleasurable surprise 
 came into their faces. The American was the first to 
 speak. 
 
 "Well, I guess I've got a dirigible balloon for 
 a head," were his words. " I am mighty glad to 
 meet you, boys, but we've come a thundering long 
 way for an introduction." 
 
 The missionary smiled. "Am I to take it, sir," he 
 said, addressing the Rajah, "that all the men in this 
 room are here on the same business?" 
 
 " I believe that such is the case," he was answered. 
 "We are all here at the invitation of Mr. Deverell of 
 London?" 
 
 "That may be," grunted the Scot; "but without 
 meaning any disrespect I would like to know who 
 
 98 
 
ioo Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 you are, and how you happen to be interested in 
 what I understood was a private affair?" 
 
 " I believe I am nominated to be your leader; but 
 if you will kindly lock that door for a minute or 
 two I shall ask our friend Mr. Smith to read this 
 letter, which was given me to deliver to him in this 
 hotel. After you hear it, gentlemen, you may have 
 discussion or dinner first, but not both together, as 
 the. waiters here have long ears, and know English as 
 well as we do." 
 
 Up to this point George, Smith, and the little man 
 who bore the name of Charles Henry James Lynd- 
 hurst, had remained silent. The first, because his 
 active brain was engaged piecing together the frag- 
 ments of a strange story which hitherto had been 
 disconnected and almost meaningless; the second, 
 because he was too much astonished to speak; and 
 the last, because he saw no reason why he should 
 voice his thoughts. He was not in the least sur- 
 prised, and was now studying a roughly-drawn map, 
 with seeming indifference to his comrades' openly 
 shown wonder. 
 
 Smith, however, on being handed the letter, be- 
 came at once the cool, collected clerk, and opening 
 it, he stood up and read it with the air he was wont to 
 adopt, when reading minutes or other statements on 
 behalf of his master at a Board of Directors' meeting 
 in the city. The letter was in the same handwriting 
 as the one he had so mysteriously received the 
 
 previous day. It read: "Gentlemen of the Secret 
 
 Expedition now assembled at dinner in a private 
 room in the Galle Face Hotel, Colombo, you are 
 now formally enlisted in Prince Gilama's enterprise, 
 subject to your placing yourselves unreservedly at 
 his service. The conditions are those upon which 
 
The Prince 101 
 
 each individual member agreed before leaving Lon- 
 don, and which Prince Gilama will now ratify." 
 
 Smith" read clearly and distinctly, and laid the 
 letter on the table when finished, as if waiting for 
 someone to move the adoption of the report he had 
 just read. 
 
 And someone did. "Who wants to trouble about 
 conditions?" came the voice of the little man, and it 
 was not an unpleasant voice. ' ' The fact that we are 
 here shows that 'we all mean business." 
 
 "You are Prince Gilama, I presume?" the mis- 
 sionary said interrogatively, addressing the stranger. 
 
 " I am, and after dinner, when any man who does 
 not care to proceed further has retired, I shall explain 
 away all the mystery connected with our work." 
 
 " I guess there ain't going to be any man retiring, 
 sir," broke in the American, "so you can safely tell 
 us now, if you care to, and be done with it." 
 
 "The conditions I made before leaving Lon- 
 don " began the missionary. 
 
 "Are those upon which your services are now 
 accepted!" the Prince interrupted. "You will not 
 be required to do anything which you would not 
 attempt yourself, if left to your own resources." 
 
 "So be it; I am at your service, sir," the mis- 
 sionary said simply. 
 
 " I made no conditions," spoke the Scot. " I 
 am here as requested, and I mean to see the thing 
 through. I don't care what we are going to do." 
 
 "Am I expected to speechify again?" asked Samuel 
 P. Clement, "because if I am, I can only say, get 
 along with the funeral. I'll be there every time." 
 
 "And I'll not be faraway," added Charles Henry 
 James Lyndhurst, quietly, looking up from his map. 
 
 "So there only remains our acting secretary and 
 
102 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 our very youthful friend," the Prince remarked pleas- 
 antly. " Gentlemen, I think we may take their con- 
 sent for granted." 
 
 "Am I going, sir?" cried Smith eagerly. "I 
 thought I was merely to carry back any messages 
 to Mr. Deverell." 
 
 " That may have been that gentleman's first inten- 
 tion," the Prince answered, " but from what I have 
 gathered of your nature and capabilities of late, I am 
 willing to risk giving you the place of the one man 
 who has not kept his appointment." 
 
 "Yes, sir " Smith bit his last word off 
 
 sharply. What had prompted him to give the parrot- 
 like answer he had not used since leaving the office? 
 
 " So you accept?" continued the Prince; and despite 
 his efforts to make answer freely and easily after the 
 style of the others, Smith's words were again " Yes, 
 sir." 
 
 "And you, my young friend?" said the Prince, 
 turning to George. 
 
 " I am at your service, sir." 
 
 " Do you know what we are going to do?" 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 "And you do not insist upon knowing before- 
 hand?" 
 
 " I have Mr. Deverell's word that I shall not be 
 called upon to take part in anything dishonourable, 
 and that is enough for me." 
 
 " Spoken like a true explorer," said the Prince. 
 "He that would seek after knowledge must risk much, 
 nor can he know what lies before him. The pioneer 
 who forces aside nature's grim barriers in quest of 
 Eldorado knows not the dangers he may encounter, 
 nor the risks he runs, but he cares not, the fascination 
 of the unknown lures him on " 
 
The Prince 103 
 
 " I say, Prince," interrupted Samuel P. Clement, 
 " I'll allow you have a pretty tall hang of the great 
 English language for a nig — I mean foreigner — 
 no, I — blowed if I mean that either, for I guess you 
 call Britain's king your boss, although I can't ex- 
 actly spot the little patch of ground you grew on. 
 The fact is I'm getting mighty hungry, and I guess 
 all the boys feel the same way. We've been at sea, 
 you know, for a few days, and Ceylon's spicy shore 
 breezes have given us back a pampered, sea-spoiled 
 appetite " 
 
 "Dry up, you long-winded son of a gun!" broke in 
 the Scot abruptly. " Do you think we came out to 
 Colombo to listen to your Demosthenic elucidation 
 of Epicureanism?" 
 
 "Who is he?" asked the American. "Any friend 
 of Cyrus Z. Higgins of Boston? What? you don't 
 know Cyrus? Why, he was the man who proved by 
 experiment that man did not need to eat to live, and 
 that he could take all the nourishment he required 
 direct from the ground, same way as a tree does. 
 No one would believe him, so he dug a nice little 
 hole in his front garden and planted his feet in it, and 
 got Abe Clancy's youngster to come round every 
 morning and night to water them " 
 
 "And I suppose he grew up tall and stately, and 
 sent out noble branches from which hung heavy 
 clusters of all kinds of fruit?" put in the missionary 
 with a laugh. He knew Samuel well. 
 
 "No, he did no such thing; this ain't a fairy tale 
 I'm telling. The only thing that happened was in con- 
 nection with his hair. It grew so mighty sudden that 
 it reached the ground in less than no time and took 
 fresh root there, and then spread all around like a wild 
 cactus patch, and birds came and built their nests 
 
104 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 in it. You see, Cyrus Z. had taken a vow he would 
 give the earth treatment at least a three days' trial. 
 Well, when the folks came to burn him out of his 
 field— they couldn't cut the hair, it was too spiky to 
 get near, although they had steam saws and other 
 heavy machinery with them — they found after the fire 
 had done its work that all that was left of Cyrus could 
 be put inside a quart bottle. His whole substance 
 had gone into hair, and you can see and talk to him 
 any time now, if you go to case number A 2\ in 
 Picker's Museum. Oh, you can't play with nature, 
 
 I can tell you. I remember once What's 
 
 that?" 
 
 The Prince had touched the call bell which rested 
 upon the table, and amidst the laughter of all present 
 who knew of the American's tell-tale, the hotel mana- 
 ger appeared in answer. 
 
 "We are ready now," the Prince said to this per- 
 sonage, who bowed and withdrew again to give the 
 necessary orders to his numerous staff of servants. 
 
 "Now, gentlemen," continued the Prince, "dinner 
 will be served immediately, and I have just time to 
 tell you the destination of our expedition before the 
 room is filled with the waiters. I am well acquainted 
 with you all, although you may not be aware of that 
 fact, and I know that I need not caution you not 
 to speak of our mission when any other people are 
 present. Gentlemen, we are going to make an at- 
 tempt to enter that forbidden land of the Lamas, 
 mysterious Tibet. What our object is there we can 
 discuss later." At that moment the waiters entered 
 with the first dishes, and without a word of comment 
 all took their places round the table. What each 
 man thought he kept to himself, but Charles Henry 
 James Lyndhurst was chuckling with delight, and 
 
The Prince 105 
 
 George did not think that anticipation of dinner 
 was the cause of his merriment. As for himself he 
 felt a thrill run through his being ; he had been right 
 all along. Tibet — fascinating, unknown and forbid- 
 den Tibet — where his father had lost his life, was to 
 be the scene of his first wanderings and adventures. 
 Now he understood much that had been obscure, and 
 realized the meaning of the secrecy which had sur- 
 rounded everything in connection with the expedi- 
 tion. He would have liked to impart some of his 
 knowledge to Smith, for he saw that that individual 
 was in a state of mind bordering on hysteria. He 
 knew little of Tibet and. cared less. His thoughts 
 had never been allowed to soar above his desk hither- 
 to, and now he had suddenly become a responsible 
 and trusted member of a band about to set out upon 
 an adventure, which he felt sure would only end with 
 their lives or the conquest of China. But he did not 
 care. He was a man now, and a comrade of Mac- 
 andrew the Scot, the missionary, and Clement, and 
 had he not George to look after? Come what might 
 he would do his duty, and, if he ever saw Mr. Deverell 
 again, he would be able to say he had discharged his 
 trust. He sat up straight and held his head erect. 
 The joy of comradeship was exquisite. 
 
 But the soft-footed, deft Cingalese waiters were 
 now flitting noiselessly around the table attending 
 to their duties, and the comrades made their meal 
 their chief business for the time also. 
 
 At length the irrepressible American broke the 
 silence. "There is nothing like a good, well-sea- 
 soned mystery," he remarked thoughtfully, helping 
 himself to some curry with an unpronounceable 
 name. 
 
 "You should never enquire into the component 
 
io6 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 parts of what you eat in the Orient," said Macandrew 
 severely. " Shut your eyes if the sight is no' pleasing 
 you." 
 
 "I wasn't thinking of food, Mac," observed Samuel 
 quietly. "That never troubles me, for I can eat a 
 Chinaman, pigtail and all, if I'm half hungry. I was 
 thinking of Cyrus Higgins's invention." He sighed, 
 and, laying down his fork, gazed at the electric fan 
 revolving in a far corner. 
 
 "Well, what about the invention?" the missionary 
 asked. " Was it a flying machine?" 
 
 "Ah! that's just the point. No one knew what 
 it was; it was a mystery " 
 
 "It's a mystery to me how you have lived so 
 long," put in Charles Henry James. " I often felt 
 like killing you on the old ship, you had such an 
 amount of wisdom to let loose of the kind that late 
 countryman of yours, George Washington, nearly 
 got spanked for." 
 
 Samuel grinned. "It would have pretty near 
 made me drop down with a shock if you had showed 
 us the colour of your voice on the old Macedonia" 
 he said. But as I was saying about old Cyrus 
 Higgins — now, what was I saying about him?" The 
 speaker looked round perplexedly, and instantly his 
 companions came to his assistance. 
 
 " I think you were going to say he felt a bit cold 
 when he was at the North Pole," suggested Mac- 
 andrew with a serious face. 
 
 " He was the man who swam the Atlantic, wasn't 
 he?" asked Charles Henry James. 
 
 "The Channel, you mean?" Smith corrected, just 
 to show that he felt at home among his comrades, 
 and could keep up his share of the conversation. 
 
 " I think you said he planted himself in his garden 
 
The Prince 107 
 
 and grew into a cabbage," insinuated the missionary. 
 
 "Some of you fellows will get planted before 
 long," Samuel laughed good-naturedly, "and it will 
 be feet up too." 
 
 "I think you were going to say something about 
 your friend's invention," put in the Prince. 
 
 "That's it," cried the American. "It was his dis- 
 covery of how you could make a black man white and 
 a white man black that " 
 
 "And a yellow man green with envy," muttered 
 Macandrew. 
 
 " that I thought might interest gentlemen 
 
 scientifically inclined," continued Samuel unabashed. 
 "But of course you are all stay-at-home people who 
 
 don't need to change your skins. Blow me for a 
 
 fat-headed unmannerly fool. I am real sorry I spoke, 
 Prince. I was thinking of a plan which might come 
 in useful up north, and I didn't mean to give offence. 
 Here, Mac, come over and kick me; I need it badly." 
 
 " Pray console yourself, Mr. Clement," the Prince 
 said kindly. " I took no oftence at your words. 
 Why should I? A black man is every bit as good 
 as a white one, only perhaps he has a longer line 
 of ancestors. The people of India and those of most 
 of Europe are of common descent, all of Aryan stock. 
 We who stayed near where our race was cradled re- 
 mained, or became, dark in complexion; you who 
 wandered, became as you are now. It is all a ques- 
 tion of latitude, I think, modified perhaps by altitude. 
 Proceed with your story, Mr. Clement, I fancy I 
 gather your intention." 
 
 "Well, old Cyrus couldn't get a patent for his 
 invention, because he couldn't say what it was nor 
 give it a name, and the patent office people would 
 not listen to him when he began to explain. They 
 
108 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 told him that no white man wanted to be black; 
 and that if he floated a company for whitewashing 
 niggers with his patent, trade would be paralysed 
 for the next six months, and there wouldn't be enough 
 ships floating to cart the real white people away to 
 Africa, or somewhere where they could get away from 
 the smell of whitewash." 
 
 " And what happened?" George asked. He had 
 been unusually silent of late, his thoughts occupy- 
 ing all his attention. 
 
 " Nothing happened, but he told me his secret." 
 
 "And that was ?" asked the missionary. 
 
 "Boil a nigger in chloride of lime and you'll 
 bleach him whiter than your collar." 
 
 "And to reverse the process?" the missionary 
 continued. 
 
 "Let a white man wash himself three or four 
 times over with a solution of crushed coffee beans 
 dissolved in clarified cocoanut butter, and the trick 
 is done; it will set on his skin and stand washing, 
 and he can give himself any shade of darkness he 
 likes." 
 
 "Wonderful!" Charles Henry James commented. 
 "Most wonderful!" His tones, however, were sar- 
 castic. 
 
 "Ay, my man," said Macandrew grimly. "Are 
 you a nigger bleached white? No? Well, many 
 a time I've been a coffee -stained nigger, and it 
 wasn't old Cyrus Higgins who told me how to 
 bring about the change." 
 
 "Gentlemen," remonstrated the missionary, "this 
 conversation is most unseemly at present. Remem- 
 ber our " 
 
 "No, gentlemen," the Prince interrupted. "Mr. 
 Clement is giving us an idea. Just think for a 
 
The Prince 109 
 
 moment and you will see how his words apply to 
 us." 
 
 "By Jupiter! they do," cried the little man. 
 "We'll " 
 
 " Get the room cleared and smoke a cigar," the 
 Prince again interrupted; and addressing the chief 
 waiter in his own language, he gave orders which, 
 upon being repeated to the many assistants — one to 
 each diner — caused an activity among them that soon 
 effected the clearance of the room, of all signs that 
 dinner had been served therein. Then they removed 
 themselves, and after calling the manager, who 
 seemed to know the Prince very well, and instructing 
 him to see that no eavesdroppers came prowling 
 around, the Prince said: 
 
 ' ' At last, comrades, we are free to discuss our 
 plans, prospects, and hopes. We are going to try to 
 penetrate to the great gold deposits believed to exist 
 to the east of Thok Jalung, in the unknown region 
 north of the Tsangpo or Brahmaputra River. I have 
 been in the country before, and know of some strange 
 mineral formations there wonderfully rich in precious 
 stones, although I know little about the goldfields. 
 To enter Tibet is forbidden to all European and other 
 foreigners not of the Buddhist religion. I am not of 
 that faith, and therefore the country is closed to me as 
 much as to you. I propose, therefore, but I invite 
 discussion on the subject, that we adopt Mr. Clement's 
 idea, and disguise ourselves as pilgrims until we get 
 as far on the pilgrim road to Lhasa as we mean to 
 travel, after that we may become Tibetans, China- 
 men, or Nepalese, as suits us best. I shall be glad 
 now to hear any of your ideas." 
 
 "May I say, sir," began the missionary, "that 
 it was in hopes the expedition was bound for Tibet 
 
no Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 that I offered my services, and you have outlined 
 the plan which I had formed in my own mind, as 
 the most suitable for our getting into the country 
 and afterwards travelling about in it. I think it quite 
 feasible for us to disguise ourselves as natives. I 
 have frequently lived as a Chinaman myself, and 
 I don't expect that we shall meet with suspicious 
 people, so long as we make no attempt to get near the 
 sacred city of Lhasa." 
 
 " I guessed we were bound for Tibet," said Macan- 
 drew, " but I should like to visit Lhasa. Your plans, 
 sir, suit me in every way, and I hope I shall be able 
 to speak Tibetan without a Scotch accent." 
 
 "I agree with everything," chimed in the American, 
 " and move we get a start made at once. I am dying 
 to be a pilgrim." 
 
 " We all are," grunted Charles Henry James, 
 "but according to Cyrus Higgins's process." 
 
 George looked at the last speaker curiously. Had 
 he really perpetrated a pun? But the little man's 
 face was as solemn as the Prince's. If he were a 
 humorist, he was a past master in its subtlety. All 
 the others also gave him a close scrutiny. They were 
 suspicious. 
 
 " When you have a moment to spare, sir," said 
 George, addressing the Prince, " I have a message 
 to deliver to you from Mr. Deverell." 
 
 "Are you quite convinced I am the person to 
 whom you have to deliver the stone?" 
 
 "Your words convince me, for I did not say it was 
 a stone I had to deliver." 
 
 " Well, my boy, I am the person right enough, but 
 I am going to remove all possible doubt by asking 
 you to retain the talisman in your possession until 
 I ask for it. It may possibly be safer in your hands 
 
The Prince m 
 
 than in mine during the next few weeks, and certainly 
 he who first gave it to you thought so." 
 
 " I don't understand " 
 
 " No, my boy, but you will as soon as the tangle 
 can be unravelled. Meanwhile have you still got 
 it safely on your person?" 
 
 "I have," answered George. "It is in my 
 
 Ah " Like a flash there came into his mind a 
 
 wild suspicion, this Prince might be one of the men 
 of the motor car episode. Could he possibly have 
 been playing a game the last hour, and had he even 
 cheated Macandrew into betraying himself? 
 
 The Prince noticed the change in George's expres- 
 sion. "What is troubling you, my young friend?" 
 he said kindly. " Out with it at once, and let us get 
 the matter made right. Mystery was essential until 
 our band was formed, and we got safely away from 
 England, but now we are comrades, and every 
 vestige of mystery must be removed as far as pos- 
 sible, for we are to work together and take risks 
 equally." 
 
 George looked steadily at the Prince as he spoke. 
 There was something familiar about him, but what 
 it was the lad could not determine. He was conscious 
 that Smith was also watching the Prince closely. 
 Evidently he too was trying to recollect where and 
 under what circumstances he had seen him before. 
 But the dusky face of the speaker was open, honest, 
 and fearless, and the well-cut features, determined 
 mouth, and deep-set eyes appealed to George even 
 more than words could have done. Finally he decided 
 to say what was in his mind, and without any pre- 
 liminaries blurted out: "Are you one of the men 
 who carried off another in a motor car?" 
 
 " Howling blizzards!" ejaculated Samuel P. Clem- 
 
H2 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 ent. " Are motor cars mixed up in a Tibet exploring 
 scheme?" 
 
 " Shut up, you phonograph," growled Macandrew. 
 " There's maybe aeroplanes as well." 
 
 "No, I am not one of the men who carried off 
 another in a motor car," the Prince said. "But 
 I that is, I know the man who was carried off." 
 
 " Then how did you get here?" asked George, still 
 in surprise. "We came with the mails, and no ship 
 could pass us." 
 
 "No, but I came on the same ship. That is why 
 I know you all." 
 
 "Then you are the pilgrim Prince?" cried the 
 American. " Howling hyenas ! And my bell was 
 chiming out a joyful chorus every time I spoke of 
 such a person being on board. Boys, you see for 
 yourselves I can't possibly tell whoppers. If I try, 
 the things I say come true of their own account. 
 Kick me, someone, quick! I'll be seeing the ghosts 
 of all the other people I invented next." 
 
 The truthful one was deeply moved. He was per- 
 haps the only member of the party who did not have 
 some belief in the existence of such a person as the 
 pilgrim Prince on board the Macedonia. He had 
 evolved the story himself to please some diary writers. 
 And after all, it had been true. The shock was 
 severe. 
 
 "Yes, gentlemen, I travelled with you on the 
 Macedonia. I have even spoken to you all on board. 
 As a matter of fact, I am this moment in possession 
 of a shilling I received from our friend the missionary 
 for repairing his deck chair." 
 
 " Do you mean to say you were the intelligent 
 sarang who came on duty every night at eight 
 bells?" cried the missionary, greatly surprised. 
 
The Prince 113 
 
 " I don't know about the intelligence," the Prince 
 laughed; "but I stayed in my cabin all day, and 
 dressed as the sarang on duty every evening for the 
 sake of exercise. The man with whom I changed 
 places simply remained in my cabin until I returned, 
 and then resumed his own duties." 
 
 "Then it was you who sent me that letter?" cried 
 Smith excitedly. 
 
 " It was. I gave it to the native servant, whom the 
 purser of the ship appointed to me, to give to your 
 steward. You see I had to see what calibre of men 
 my future comrades were, and I was also com- 
 pelled to travel as I did, because there are a goodly 
 number of people watching for my arrival at various 
 ports." 
 
 "Are we to be taken fully into confidence, sir?" 
 the missionary asked. "We are not entitled to it, 
 perhaps ; but if so, there are a few questions I would 
 ask which might make things plainer to us." 
 
 "Comrades, it is my desire to clear up any mystery 
 which may now remain. You are as much part of 
 this expedition as I am, and I shall be most happy 
 to answer any questions, if within my knowledge. 
 You are certainly taken fully into confidence." 
 
 "Then, sir," went on the missionary, "what is the 
 reason for all this secrecy and mystery? Why were 
 we not told in London whether we had been accepted 
 or not? And what was the idea of preventing us 
 from knowing each other, and yet causing us all to 
 travel on the same ship? And why, too, did we come 
 to Colombo instead of, say, Bombay or Calcutta, both 
 much nearer ports, and through one of which, I should 
 think, we must pass? You mentioned that one man 
 had not turned up here. Is he an essential member 
 of the party, or can we replace him, or do without 
 
 (09) 8 
 
U4 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 him? And lastly, what connection is there between 
 you and Mr. Deverell?" 
 
 " You have given me a big contract to answer all 
 these questions," laughed the Prince, " but I'll endea- 
 vour to go over them all." 
 
 "No! puncture me; no!" growled the American. 
 "What do we need to care why and wherefore we 
 are here, apart from the main fact that it is to go into 
 Tibet. I, for one, don't wish to know more." 
 
 "Nor I," said Macandrew. "And I could guess 
 the answer to all these questions if I cared to." 
 
 "Mr. Missionary will be putting us through an 
 examination to see if we remember our Sunday-school 
 days presently," put in Charles Henry James. "I 
 vote we miss all answers to questions, and get on to 
 the real business." 
 
 "Strangely enough, comrades," the Prince said, 
 " I believe that we shall be doing the best possible 
 work in getting a full knowledge of the reasons for 
 our past movements, and if you will give me your 
 attention for a few minutes I propose to answer all 
 the questions I have been asked, and I thank our 
 comrade for having put them so concisely before 
 me. The reason for all the mystery and secrecy is, 
 because we could not be allowed to go through India 
 to Tibet if the authorities were obviously aware of our 
 intentions. You were not told in London whether 
 your services had been accepted or not, because, for 
 all Mr. Deverell knew, you might have been secret 
 agents in the employment of Russian, Chinese, or 
 other Governments. You were not introduced to 
 each other, because that would have given knowledge 
 to any one of you who might have been a spy as to 
 who the members of the expedition were. You were 
 allowed to travel together because you could be the 
 
The Prince 115 
 
 better watched, and it would also be a first-class test 
 of your individual powers of keeping silent — the only 
 condition, I believe, imposed upon you in London. 
 Colombo was your booked destination, because it was 
 suspected that you would be watched, and had you 
 gone direct to Bombay or Calcutta, most probably 
 would have been put under surveillance; for I can 
 assure you that the people we have for enemies know 
 something about every man who leaves London for 
 these parts just now, and your past records, gentle- 
 men, would not exempt you from suspicion by any 
 means. The man who has not put in an appearance 
 was to be your leader. He left London when you 
 did, but suspecting he was followed — he is of special 
 interest to the powers that govern Tibet — he doubled 
 back to London again from Dover, and thus threw his 
 followers off your track. He may join us later, but 
 in the meantime I am his deputy. The relations 
 between Prince Gilama and Mr. Deverell are purely 
 the common interests that both have in Mr. Tom 
 Deverell, your intended leader. I think I have dealt 
 with everything that might have been obscure now; 
 if not, please do not hesitate to enquire further." 
 
 " Did you know any of us before this expedition 
 left London?" asked Samuel P. Clement. 
 
 " I knew Mr. Charles Henry James Lyndhurst. 
 He and I have been comrades in the past. He did 
 not know of my connection with this expedition, nor 
 even of my presence on board the Macedonia, until 
 I sent him a sign which he knew how to read." 
 
 "The pipe, I'll bet a dollar!" muttered the Ameri- 
 can. "By the Stars and Stripes, C.H.J.L., you are 
 not such a fool as you look ! " 
 
 "Nor you," answered the man addressed laconi- 
 cally. 
 
n6 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 "I have nothing more to ask, sir," the missionary- 
 remarked. "And I thank you for your courtesy in 
 explaining matters. One thing there is, however, 
 that my conscience compels me to say, for fear you 
 may be misled by my silence. I do not believe that 
 you have given us the real reason of your entering 
 Tibet. Neither gold nor precious stones can have 
 much attraction for you, I feel sure; but I am also 
 confident that any other purposes you may have are 
 not dishonourable, and I again pledge myself to 
 stand by you through all circumstances." 
 
 "Bosh!" ejaculated the American. "You've said 
 that already. We'll all be on deck when the fun 
 begins, and we'll see it through, too, and he knows 
 it." 
 
 "Seeing that it isn't vera likely we'll get a chance 
 to run away, it isn't as much to promise as it looks," 
 put in Macandrew. "All the same, when you want 
 Macandrew you'll no' have to look far for him, and 
 there's my hand on it." 
 
 The big Scot proffered his hand, which was at once 
 taken in the Prince's darker one and wrung warmly. 
 Each man in turn then repeated the performance, 
 including Smith and George, and thus the compact 
 was sealed. 
 
 "Well, then, comrades," said the Prince, after a 
 pause more eloquent than the highest flight of ora- 
 tory, "here are some sketch maps I wish you to 
 study. I have marked the pass through the Hima- 
 layas which I think is the most suitable for us. It 
 is known only to few, and has been crossed only by 
 myself and another. We daren't use the Chumbi 
 Valley route north of Darjiling, nor the famous 
 Shipki Pass from Simla, because, even if we evaded 
 the British authorities in these places, we should still 
 
The Prince 117 
 
 have to face the Tibetan soldiers who guard those 
 passes." 
 
 " I see this road of yours leads from Almora across 
 the Pinder River, and up by Nanda Devi towards the 
 Alakmanda headwaters," said Macandrew after a brief 
 examination of his map. 
 
 "Yes; do you know it?" asked the Prince in sur- 
 prise. 
 
 "A wee bit. I've crossed the Darma La in a hurry 
 before now." 
 
 ' ' The Darma La ! That is the pass I hope to take ; 
 at least, a branch of it." 
 
 " Yes, the branch leading off from the Kali River," 
 said Macandrew dryly. " I know them both, and I 
 think you'll have to try yet another, before you find 
 one that only you and another have used." 
 
 "Who are you?" cried the Prince, pulling the 
 Scot under an electric lamp and peering into his 
 face. "Surely you are not the man who, it is said, 
 entered Lhasa disguised as a Chinese lama, and 
 who " 
 
 "Ay, they say lots of things about poor old Mac- 
 andrew, but the most are no' true. I think I can spot 
 you too, though, Prince. Do you happen to know 
 where the eye of a certain Buddhist god is?" 
 
 Both, men looked straight into each other's face, 
 and after a moment's scrutiny the Scot smiled. 
 
 "We ken each other," he said oracularly. "And 
 we've gripped each other's hand." 
 
 "What? More secrets?" cried the American. "I've 
 a good mind to tell who I am now, seeing that none 
 of you have recognized in me the great — the great — 
 now, who in thunder was great ?" 
 
 "George Washington," suggested George, but the 
 ponderer was not satisfied. 
 
u8 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 " I forget who I am just now," he said finally, 
 "but I'll have my pedigree ready the next time 
 there's a call for it. What's the next business?" 
 
 "Our next business is to get to the foot of that 
 pass marked on your maps," the Prince said thought- 
 fully, "and we must divide ourselves, so as to reach 
 that spot without raising suspicion. The nearest 
 railway station is Kathgodam, and I propose that 
 we all try to reach that place by different routes. I 
 am almost certain to be watched, therefore I had 
 better go alone. You, Mr. Macandrew, and our 
 youngest member, I shall ask to travel together. 
 Go via Bombay, Lucknow, and Bareilly, and push 
 ahead and wait for the rest beyond Almora. Mr. 
 Clement, you and Mr. Smith will oblige me by 
 making for the same spot via Calcutta, and Mr. 
 Lyndhurst and the missionary will also steer there 
 together by routes other than those stated. Here 
 are credit notes which you must cash in some large 
 town. Purchase your own personal outfits, but leave 
 the question of stores and general equipment to me. 
 That is all, comrades. You are now left to use your own 
 discretion until we meet again. The Bombay steamer 
 leaves to-morrow, and the Calcutta boat on Monday. 
 Your rooms are all engaged here for to-night. Good- 
 bye until we meet beneath the pass." 
 
 A handshake all round, and the Prince had left the 
 room. Then the little man turned to the missionary 
 and said: "Come on, then, partner, we've got the 
 most roundabout road to go, we'll start off now. The 
 man who follows us will not be of much use after- 
 wards." 
 
 "And let us go and see the sights of the town," 
 said Clement to Smith. " We've got to stay here till 
 Monday, and we may as well enjoy ourselves." 
 
The Prince 119 
 
 "And seeing you have got something in your 
 pocket which your hand never leaves, we'll go and 
 see if we can't get on board our steamer to-night, 
 laddie," said Macandrew. "It may be safer, for 
 thieves trained in Tibet have ways of working that 
 can best be circumvented out on the water." 
 
 Next minute the room was empty. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 The Eye of the War God 
 
 It was night. Beside a small fire in the middle of 
 a clump of deodars sat two men dressed in the 
 loosely fitting skirts and graceful turbans that mark 
 the prosperous natives of Northern India. Beyond 
 the deodars, and slightly beneath, stretched a fertile 
 valley, the slopes of which were covered with forests 
 of walnut, oak, and yew trees, and towering rhodo- 
 dendron scrub. Through this valley a winding road 
 led right up to the deodars, amidst which the men 
 were camped, but passed by them a dozen yards or 
 so on the one side. Closing in on this ever-ascending 
 path were the mighty flanking mountain spurs, which 
 at their apex formed the famous Darma Pass, the 
 lowest point in the snow-clad barrier rising directly 
 behind the two men. 
 
 The moon had just risen above some giant peak 
 in this, the world's mightiest range, and the great 
 panorama of tree tops in the plain beneath shone out 
 in a bluish light, which gave a most weird effect to 
 the scene. Far off to the west the mystic Nanda 
 Devi, the highest peak in the British Empire, reared 
 its glistening shoulders above the ramparts of the 
 stupendous wall of which it formed part, until its 
 spirit-infested head was lost in the aureole of misty 
 vapour which crowned it. 
 
 120 
 
The Eye of the War God 121 
 
 The night was still, silent, and awesome, and a 
 cold air from the eternal snows above made the two 
 men crouch over their fire for warmth. 
 
 " Well, laddie," one of the men said to his youthful- 
 looking companion, "I'm of opinion that we'll have 
 to pass another night by ourselves, so we'll make 
 ourselves as comfortable as we can. Luckily there's 
 plenty of timber around us, and, even if it is sacred, 
 it will burn just as well." The speaker's accent was 
 slightly Scotch. 
 
 "It all seems like a dream to me," the younger 
 man replied. "I can scarcely bring myself to be- 
 lieve that we have travelled through practically all 
 India these last few days, and that soon we shall be 
 scaling this cloud-piercing mountain wall behind us. 
 What height are we just now?" 
 
 " Nothing vera extraordinary, about seven thousand 
 feet from sea level to my knees, which, if I hadna 
 trousers on underneath this petticoat, would be vera 
 cold. That hillock you see sticking up so proudly 
 over there is Nandi Devi; it is twenty-five thousand 
 five hundred and ninety-nine feet, ten and three-quarter 
 inches in height. If I had been a reckless man like 
 our friend Clement I might have credited it with the 
 full twenty-five thousand six hundred, and described 
 its particular spirit population to the bargain; but 
 I don't believe in making a liar of nature, for it is 
 nothing to me, and an inch and a half is a good lot, 
 if it happens to be between you and the last of a train 
 moving out of a station." 
 
 "And do you know the height of this pass behind 
 us? I suppose we have got to cross it, although it 
 looks to me as if we would have to grow wings before 
 we could attempt it." 
 
 " Don't you worry, my lad. I've crossed passes 
 
i22 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 nearly twice the height of the Darma Pass, and I'm 
 no' exactly dead yet. And anyway, we're not going 
 to cross that saddle ridge up there. It would be too 
 easy. That track coming up the valley goes right 
 over it, and doubtless, although I won't guarantee 
 the fact, has been a highway between Nepal, Tibet, 
 and India, no' to mention China nor Central Asia, 
 for thousands of years. I don't know the highest 
 point, because I never crossed it. There is a guard 
 of Tibetan soldiers at the far end of it, and I never 
 had much notion of them; they're vera dirty, and 
 they dinna believe in minding their own business 
 and letting you attend to yours. Besides, they've 
 got guns and can shoot no' so badly." 
 
 Macandrew, for it was he, became reflective, and 
 stared with unseeing eyes at the antics of a snake 
 wriggling into the fire, with sublime disregard for 
 the consequences. 
 
 "Then how are we to get over that awful range?" 
 persisted George, the youthful native. "Tibet lies 
 in the great plateau beyond the Himalayas, so we 
 must cross somewhere." 
 
 " I don't know the details of — of the Prince's plans," 
 Macandrew answered, rousing himself from his reverie, 
 ' ' but I expect he knows the pass next door to the 
 Darma La. If not, I do ; and, subject to his approval, 
 will take the crowd over. Do you see where that 
 gully breaks into the main gorge halfway up towards 
 the summit?" 
 
 "Yes, it is in the shadows just now, but I can 
 make it out." 
 
 "Well, that glacier course leads right through 
 the mountain, and up in between these two sentinel- 
 like peaks you can see if you twist your eyes up. 
 Between those peaks is my pass, and although it is 
 
The Eye of the War God 123 
 
 eighteen thousand feet high, it is safer and better 
 for us than any other, because no one, or at any rate 
 very few people, know of it. Only the Prince and 
 another, as he says, and this child who is now speak- 
 ing and another has ever crossed it, and there is no 
 guard on it; at least there was none in the past, and 
 if we find one it will be a sure sign that our friends 
 the Tibetans have got the hint that the Prince and 
 Macandrew — to say nothing of C.J.H.L., and pos- 
 sibly the American — are coming." 
 
 " Do you think they care who comes?" 
 
 ' ' Yes, they care a lot, and there is more than the 
 Tibetans themselves mixed up in the game. China, 
 of course, is the chief party interested, after them- 
 selves, in keeping out the foreigners, but Britain and 
 Russia are also playing a hand that would need a 
 better poker player than I to explain the points in 
 their cards. Pretty near the Tibetan plateau was the 
 birthplace of the human race, most people who have 
 studied the subject agree ; but at the back of the mind 
 of poor old world-wanderer Macandrew there is an 
 idea that on that same plateau the world's most deci- 
 sive battles will yet be fought, and at least some of its 
 peoples exterminated." 
 
 ' ' You talk like a prophet or an almanac writer. 
 Why should the most inaccessible, inhospitable land 
 beyond the Himalayan snows be the scene of such 
 destruction? It is not worth much to any country, 
 I've been told, or it would have been annexed long 
 ago." 
 
 "Ay, you've a wonderful amount of knowledge 
 for a youngster, but there are some things school- 
 books dinna tell you, and this Tibet mystery is one. 
 Have you ever heard of a fellow called Mohammed, 
 who lived in the Arabian desert before — well before 
 
124 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 there were any railways running through it, or in any 
 other place?" 
 
 "Of course I have heard of Mohammed. But he 
 was never in Tibet, nor were his soldiers." 
 
 " A fact. But has it never crossed your wonderfully 
 perspicacious mind that Tibet was about the only 
 place in the then known world where his influence 
 wasn't felt? Mohammedanism forced itself upon all 
 peoples, wherever the blood-red banner was carried, 
 and finally it broke down the chief bulwarks of the 
 boasted western civilization with a crash that still, 
 metaphorically speaking, echoes throughout the world. 
 I refer to the capture of Constantinople, the centre of 
 enlightenment and culture, and the trampling of the 
 cross under the crescent." Macandrew paused, and 
 lit his pipe with a glowing log. 
 
 " But what has all this to do with Tibet?" George 
 enquired. "It is true that Mohammedanism is a great 
 influence in the world, but it is a religion, not a force 
 of any particular country." 
 
 "Exactly; and now you are coming near to what 
 I am driving at. Religion is the mightiest force on 
 earth, and it doesn't take nations into account. But 
 when faith meets faith there will come a shock, the 
 violence of which will rend civilization's frail fabric, 
 and drive it reeling back into the darkness whence it 
 
 evolved But I'm no' the man who should be 
 
 telling ye this, laddie. The missionary would do 
 it better, for he has seen the world too, and knows 
 what tremendous powers Christianity has to fight 
 against. But Macandrew is no' a man qualified to 
 talk on that subject though — he has not followed 
 out in life what he was taught at his mother's knee. 
 But there, I'm beginning to preach, and that's no' 
 in my line at all. Throw on some more burning 
 
The Eye of the War God 125 
 
 material, and we'll go to sleep when we get warm." 
 
 "But you haven't said anything about Tibet yet," 
 said George; " nor have you shown what connection 
 there is between that strange country and all you 
 have been saying. Tell me, please, for I am greatly 
 interested." 
 
 " Dear me, I forgot. I must be getting stiff in 
 my thinking apparatus. What was the subject? Ah, 
 yes! I remember now. It was about Tibet being a 
 world's battlefield." 
 
 "And something about Mohammedanism comes in 
 too, I think," said George. "At least I hope so, 
 for I like to know all I can about things we are not 
 taught in school." 
 
 " I didn't think the present-day youngsters were 
 in the least bit eager for information on any subject, 
 but I see I've wronged them," Macandrew said. 
 "But I'll tell you what I started to make clear in 
 as few words as possible for a man who hasn't got 
 as good a command of the English language as he 
 would like. Why did Mohammedanism not touch 
 Tibet? Because Tibet already had a faith of its own 
 — a passive, inactive faith, which is based upon the 
 idea that man in this world is only qualifying for 
 the next. It is a religion which demands penance 
 and personal suffering, and requires that its votaries 
 shall give their lives to contemplation. It is Buddh- 
 ism. It will never wage an aggressive war against 
 any other belief, but it will fight, if need be, for its 
 own existence. Now Mohammedanism is not a pas- 
 sive religion by any means. It is vigorous, assertive, 
 and proselytizing; but its leaders knew well that the 
 sword of Islam could not prevail against those calm, 
 unemotional followers of Buddha. Kill them they 
 might, but never convert; so they wisely conserved 
 
126 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 their strength for the titanic struggle with the great 
 western world then impending. They poured in 
 countless hordes along the base of these barrier 
 ranges and round by the great plains beyond the 
 Tarim River on the far side of Tibet, but the sacred 
 home of Buddhism they left untouched. But as the 
 Turkish Empire finally became the head of the Is- 
 lamitic faith, so there are nations now who wish to 
 pose as the Buddhist protectors, and the state that 
 receives formal recognition from Tibet as to its suze- 
 rainty becomes that power. That state will then be able 
 to hurl at the rest of the world millions and millions 
 of fanatical beings, who welcome death as the highest 
 gift attainable, should it so desire. At present China 
 claims jurisdiction over Tibet, and its ambans or 
 agents are in Lhasa. But Russia has designs on 
 this mountain empire, and has steadily pushed forth 
 its outposts from the Siberian side to such an extent 
 that China has been compelled to ask her to withdraw 
 them. This it is not likely Russia will do, and only 
 the fear of Britain, I expect, prevents her from march- 
 ing on Lhasa at once. Now, do you begin to see 
 the possibilities of Tibet being a world's battlefield? 
 China with her millions — and they can fight when 
 there is any question of religion as an inducing 
 factor — Russia with her vast armies, and Britain 
 with her brave Indian troops. What a holocaust 
 would be where the three contending armies met! 
 
 and " 
 
 "Oh, blow you for the all-firedest, non-stop, gold- 
 medal, never-wear, go-on-for-ever phonograph I ever 
 heard!" a voice roared beside them, and two men in 
 attire similar to their own came from behind some 
 trees. " Macandrew, you hoary old reprobate," con- 
 tinued the speaker, "you ought to be bleached white 
 
The Eye of the War God 127 
 
 again by the chloride of lime process for that sand- 
 blasted, water-logged yarn you've been spinning for 
 the last half-year. I don't know why the young Ali 
 Baba beside you didn't send you to Nirvana with that 
 shooter I see sticking out of where his pocket should 
 be. Hide it, young man, hide it; peaceable natives 
 like you are not supposed to carry barkers." 
 
 " Man, Clement," said Macandrew without moving, 
 ' ' I should have conjectured that a student of theo- 
 philanthropism like you would have been surcharged 
 with pleasurable emotion on hearing my enucleation 
 of Islamitic and Sakyamuni doctrines. I wasn't 
 pleonastical " 
 
 "Mac, hold hard a moment!" cried the other 
 dazedly. "I don't understand you " 
 
 "What I have said will not be rendered more 
 comprehensible by any epexegesis," sternly said the 
 Scot. But his victim had sunk weakly to the ground, 
 the last word had been too much for his susceptibilities. 
 
 "And now," spoke Macandrew, motioning the 
 native, whose name was Smith, to come forward 
 to the fire, "we'll have to introduce each other, but 
 first we'll have something to eat. Draw in your 
 chairs, lads, and don't sit on any poor snakes; they 
 may be softer, but it hurts them." 
 
 "We have a pony laden with provisions," Smith 
 volunteered. " We left it standing on the track until 
 we made sure who you were." 
 
 " But we didn't need to wait very long to find out," 
 put in the American, drawing a log near the fire and 
 sitting down upon it. " But what are your names? 
 Mine is Dost Mohammed. It is the only name I can 
 think of, and is common enough to allow its wearer to 
 pass, if there is anything like a crush." 
 
 "Well, I think you'll have to change your name. 
 
128 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 Tibetans may want to scrape the skin off your bones 
 for having that label," Macandrew said. "You 
 should take something non-committal — John V. 
 Brown, for instance. My title is Mac; it was my 
 designation in parts of the world where Tibet was 
 unknown even by name, and I'll stick to it. I pro- 
 pose we call you G. W., after your great ancestor; 
 if you say it quick it sounds all right." 
 
 " G. W. suits me to a cinder. How about the kid's 
 and Smith's?" 
 
 " It's a common practice among the Indian sur- 
 veyors to call their assistants by the first and last, 
 or most sounding letters of their names. I think 
 the plan is good. How does Gee Gee sound? That, 
 of course, is G. G., short for George Gray." 
 
 "And mine?" asked Smith. "You can't very 
 well call me W. S.?" 
 
 "Oh, yes, we could," said Clement, "but there's 
 no need. We'll just stamp you Cash Bags and be 
 done with it. The sound is all right for a good- 
 living and fairly honest Buddhist." 
 
 "Well, eat now and then we'll get our blankets 
 ready," Macandrew put in. " I don't expect there 
 will be any people passing up that trail to-night." 
 
 " By gosh, yes, let us get turned in," the American 
 laughed. " I haven't had a sleep these last four 
 days." 
 
 Which was almost a fact, as Smith had roused him 
 frequently during the night while on the trail from 
 Almora. The latter individual was much too keen- 
 eared for his companion's comfort. He was always 
 hearing sounds, which could not be explained away 
 nor traced to any source. 
 
 But they slept soundly that night — somehow the 
 presence of Macandrew was reassuring — but they did 
 
The Eye of the War God 129 
 
 not know that that gentleman did not sleep himself. 
 He wanted to watch the pass, and all night he did so, 
 sitting rolled up in his blanket motionless and silent. 
 He was determined that there should be no more 
 travellers come near that night without his know- 
 ledge. Towards morning he was rewarded for his 
 vigil. A long line of goats and yaks suddenly 
 appeared on the track, where it emerged from a 
 forest of pine trees. Pack saddles were strapped 
 across their backs, laden with merchandise to be 
 transported over the Darma Pass, and about a dozen 
 men muffled in blanket-like coats, lined with fur and 
 belted round their bodies, strode beside them. Quietly 
 and smoothly they came along, and, just when about 
 abreast of the camp, the men began speaking to each 
 other in the Shoka dialect. But they did not halt, 
 and soon the strange fleet of Himalayan ships faded 
 from sight up the pass. They were traders, appa- 
 rently, and intended to reach the Tibet frontier be- 
 fore nightfall. "That's vera strange," Macandrew 
 muttered to himself. " These fellows are in a bigger 
 hurry than is usual with their kind. I shouldn't 
 have thought that the pass would be open yet for 
 traffic, for the Shoka people are still living down in 
 their winter quarters, or we wouldn't be camped 
 here." 
 
 But Macandrew got yet another surprise before 
 daylight broke. A horseman came up from the 
 valley beneath, and appeared in view for a moment 
 on a part of the winding track on which the sinking 
 moon was casting its last rays, and in a moment the 
 Scot had awakened his comrades. 
 
 " Get up, lads !" he said. " Here comes the Prince, 
 though how he has come is more than I know." 
 
 And soon after the rider turned off the track and 
 
 (CD) 9 
 
130 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 came towards the camp. He could not possibly yet 
 see it, but evidently he had no doubt he would find 
 it. 
 
 "Chakzal! Chakzal!" he called out as the black 
 tent came dimly into view. 
 
 "Ay, it's a fine morning," responded Macandrew, 
 "but we're no' needin' anything just now." 
 
 "Oh, it is you, Mr. Macandrew. Don't you know 
 me?" The rider drew up and dismounted. 
 
 "Ay, fine; but what's the meaning of your meta- 
 morphosis, and who are you now?" 
 
 "Oh, Prince Gilama has been reincarnated as the 
 Lama Chutzso, and he is now before you." 
 
 "Just so," remarked Mr. Clement. "And this is 
 Cash Bags and Gee Gee. Of course I am the great 
 G.W., and this is Mac. Hurry up, Cash Bags, and 
 prepare a cup of coffee for the Lama Just So." 
 
 And very speedily the Lama was partaking of a cup 
 of this beverage, for Cash Bags had already mastered 
 the art of camp cooking. Gee Gee meanwhile built 
 up the fire to prepare breakfast for all, and shortly after 
 the sun shot up from behind the Nepal ranges, and the 
 five men surveyed each other in silent amusement. 
 The first four were perfect imitations of the people 
 they had been travelling among the last few days, 
 but the newcomer wore an elaborate yellow costume 
 heavily braided with gold and girdled round him 
 like a dressing gown. Underneath, he wore long 
 top boots of raw untanned leather, and on his head 
 sat an artistically embroidered helmet with fur linings 
 turned up like flaps round the bottom edge. The 
 four men each had huge knives in their belts, but 
 the lama carried no weapon — at least none visible. 
 
 "You must excuse our turbaris," Macandrew 
 began, as he saw the Lama's eyes travel over their 
 
The Eye of the War God 131 
 
 dress critically. "They were vera handy until we 
 got in among the Shoka people, but we'll change 
 now into the fur skull caps. But I'm sorry you 
 had to shave off that fine moustache you had at 
 Colombo, and you'll feel sort of cold about the head 
 now that it is shaven too. Why do you need to 
 disguise yourself at all? Can an Indian prince not 
 enter Tibet if he likes?" 
 
 "Oh, yes, but not Prince Gilama. He is known 
 too well. He was followed too, and it was in the 
 interests of all that he became a Tibetan lama in the 
 train after leaving Bareilly. But we must get away. 
 News of our intended invasion has gone ahead, and 
 we are certain to have trouble. A caravan passed you 
 during the night?" 
 
 " Did it?" asked G.W. " I didn't see it." 
 
 "But I did," said Mac. "They were Shoka 
 traders going over for borax and other things." 
 
 "Well," put in the Lama, "we must get round 
 by the other pass, so as to be crossing the frontier 
 while they are being examined at the Tibetan end 
 of the Darma La " 
 
 " But the missionary and C.H.J.L.?" began G.W. 
 
 " Are in front of us. They travelled with the cara- 
 van," the Lama replied. " Let us get off. Each man 
 will carry what he can, and we'll leave any extra 
 stores you may have for the benefit of the pilgrims, 
 who will be coming this way in droves as soon as 
 the news that the pass is open reaches the plains. 
 My horse and your two ponies can feed here until 
 someone comes for them. I have arranged that any 
 letters you may write will be lifted to-day by a special 
 messenger and carried to Almora. Mark the place 
 where you leave them." 
 
 " I have one written," said George, but no one else 
 
132 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 spoke. They had no friends to write to, or, if they 
 had, their addresses were unknown. 
 
 "Then give it to me," the Lama said. "I will 
 place it in my wallet on my saddle with my own cor- 
 respondence. There is trouble brewing with Tibet, 
 boys. I heard in Almora that a British punitive 
 force is to be sent over by the Chumbi Valley from 
 Darjiling. It will march straight on Lhasa. I don't 
 know the reason; but it forces us to alter our plans 
 somewhat, although it may make our work much 
 simpler ultimately. You still have your message 
 to me intact, George?" 
 
 " I have, sir, and I should like to deliver it now." 
 
 " My boy, I fear that would mean the ruination of 
 all our plans. I am almost certain to be caught 
 before this game is finished; but so long as your — 
 well, your talisman is safe there is a chance " 
 
 "Surely, sir, we can watch ourselves against the 
 Tibetans." 
 
 "Tibetans! It is not Tibetans I am afraid of, it is 
 Russian and Chinese agents. They are swarming 
 all over the country just now, and what that means 
 any student of religious history can guess." 
 
 George looked at Macandrew. He was packing 
 some chocolate, raisins, and oatmeal in a bag. Was 
 his prophecy to come true so soon as that? 
 
 "But what are the British doing meanwhile?" he 
 asked. " Are they careless of the interests of the 
 Indian Empire?" 
 
 " By no means. This force, under Colonel Young- 
 husband and that stern old fighter Macdonald, will 
 play a big hand in whatever game comes off. But, 
 gentlemen, I may as well tell you all the part we may 
 take in this drama, so that you may be prepared. 
 Long ago, before Tibet came under the rule of China, 
 
The Eye of the War God 133 
 
 some Grand Lama prophesied that so long as the 
 one-eyed Buddha in the grand shrine in the great 
 hall of the Potala, the palace of the Dalai Lama in 
 Lhasa, could see, Lhasa would be sacred from the 
 contaminating foot of the impure dwellers of the outer 
 world. Secure in this belief, the hardy Tibetans 
 laughed at the fierce Moslem wave that some time 
 after burst over the known world. And the lama's 
 words were true. The hosts of Islam passed by, and 
 the land of the lamas remained unconquered " 
 
 "Oh, fair play there, Just So!" interposed G.W. 
 " We've had all that already from Mac. Get on with 
 the yarn of the one-eyed Buddha." 
 
 " Well, I can explain as we walk. Lead on, friend 
 Mac! and turn off at the side pass." 
 
 The little procession started. Everything necessary 
 for a two days' journey, including the little black 
 Tibetan tent which Macandrew had purchased from 
 some Shoka traders, was packed upon the shoulders 
 of the individual members, although George's load 
 was light indeed, and the Scot's correspondingly 
 heavy. The Prince Lama, too, bore his share of the 
 burden. He had insisted upon doing so, and after 
 a moment's hesitation Mac had given him half of 
 Cash Bag's and Gee Gee's. The horses watched 
 them for some time, and then resumed feeding 
 operations; soon the party rounded a bluff, and the 
 valley beneath them was shut off from their view. 
 
 " Make the pace slow at first, Mac," the Lama said. 
 "Our young friends are sure to have an attack of 
 mountain sickness as we reach the higher altitudes, 
 and we must minimize it by taking the height 
 gradually." 
 
 " How about Buddha with the one eye now, boss?" 
 G.W. sang out. "A good yarn will make us forget 
 
134 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 we've been transmigrated into horses. I guess, Mac, 
 old man, that word is as good as arty you could have 
 shovelled in." 
 
 " Ay, you are an etymologist of superlative degree, 
 and your loquaciousness surpasseth all understand- 
 ing. Maybe it was as an equine quadruped that you 
 were pre-existent." 
 
 "Thanks, Mac, I was just wishing for a smoke, 
 and your offer of a cigar is very acceptable." 
 
 " I didn't offer you a cigar, you " 
 
 "Help! help!" cried G. W. "Stop Mac from 
 bringing out another word, somebody. The re- 
 verberation of it will bring down that glacier over- 
 head upon us." 
 
 But Mac did not utter the threatened word. The 
 track required all his attention, if he desired to lead 
 the party with as little inconvenience as possible. 
 George, or rather Geegee as he was now called, 
 was silent. He was wondering if the one - eyed 
 Buddha had any connection with their mission to 
 Tibet. Finally he turned to the Lama, who also 
 seemed lost in thought, and said: "Do you mind 
 telling us more about that strange prophecy, sir? 
 I am sure the story will interest all." 
 
 " It may prove of vital interest to this party," the 
 Lama answered, rousing himself. 
 
 "Then sling it out," cried G. W. from a position 
 well ahead of all but Mac, "Cash Bags has his 
 mouth open as weil as his ears to take it in." 
 
 Cash Bags grinned in sickly fashion. His mouth 
 was open, it was true, but it was to drink in air. 
 Already he was experiencing the effects of the altitude 
 upon his lungs. He did not complain, however: he 
 would hold out until he dropped. 
 
 " Well, boys," began the Lama, " Tibet preserved 
 
The Eye of the War God 135 
 
 her independence, although the Empire of China was 
 torn up and re-formed by the Chun, Hun, Tang, 
 Mongol, Ming, and other dynasties, most of which 
 endeavoured in turn to include the great mountain 
 plateau in their lordly dominion. But the eye of the 
 Buddha was all-seeing, and the sacred land was safe. 
 At length, however, an attack more formidable than 
 any previous effort was made on the mountain people 
 by the Chinese — now mostly Buddhists themselves, 
 and keenly desirous of having the home of their faith 
 an integral part of their own great kingdom. It 
 seemed for a time that the Chinese hordes would 
 again be driven back over the vast plains, but sud- 
 denly it was discovered that the eye of the god in the 
 Potala was missing. That was the end of Tibet as 
 a distinct nation. The people accepted the suzerainty 
 of China as inevitable, and have done so ever since. 
 But centuries afterwards another Grand Lama lived, 
 who made another prophecy, to the effect that when 
 the eye of the Potala god should be restored then 
 would Tibet again shake itself free from the foreigner, 
 and the people have been patiently waiting generation 
 after generation for the restoration of the eye to the 
 little sightless god." 
 
 " I guess it's about time that eye came along," put 
 in G. W. " If it doesn't turn up pretty slick it will 
 have Russia to kick out as well as the Chinese." 
 
 "And maybe Britain also," added Mac. "I've 
 heard the story before, though, and I believe the 
 Tibetan and all the Buddhists in Nepal, and even a 
 lot of Chinese, would combine to drive out any foreign 
 power who had a foothold in the country, if that eye 
 were found- In a holy war, too, these people would 
 fight more like devils than human beings." 
 
 " Then are we here to look for that eye?" enquired 
 
136 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 G. W. ; "because if we are, I guess we are in the 
 wrong place. " I'll bet it was a Chinaman who found 
 it when the poor old god became blind, and it is 
 in some pigtail's possession now if it still exists." 
 
 "Yes, it was a Chinaman who stole the eye," the 
 Lama said, ' ' and thus gave Tibet to his countrymen. 
 The eye was kept as the most sacred possession of 
 the Chinese governors, and became a secret heirloom 
 among them ; for the holder being a Buddhist himself 
 was afraid to destroy it, and after the second prophecy 
 the idea grew that its possession might yet mean 
 much to China, should they desire to stem the flow- 
 ing tide of European invasion. In other words, the 
 Chinese authorities thought that they could cause a 
 holy war to break out any time, which would be the 
 means of restoring China to her old proud position as 
 greatest of the world's nations ; for would not she be 
 the mighty champion of Buddhism, and what com- 
 bination of powers or faiths could withstand the shock 
 of an attack by its overwhelming forces ?" 
 
 " Look here, Lama, you are side-tracking again," 
 interrupted G. W. "How could China cause this 
 war?" 
 
 " By replacing the eye of the idol. That would be 
 equal to a sign from heaven to all Buddhists. China 
 as a nation would associate herself with the rising 
 movement, until European civilization had been 
 driven beyond the Urals again, and her own influ- 
 ence extended to the Ganges. Afterwards she would 
 reckon with Tibet if need be, by simply stealing the 
 eye again." 
 
 "Well, may I be made into an amban's mummy 
 if that yarn doesn't lick all my stories into fits," 
 exclaimed G.W. " But go on, you haven't got down 
 to the moral yet." 
 
The Eye of the War God 137 
 
 " In time the Chinese am bans — now only ambas- 
 sadors at the Tibetan court, for China's rule is light — 
 became afraid to retain their secret treasure, and at 
 length it was hidden inside an idol in the great tombs 
 underneath the Potala, so that it could be produced 
 when wanted. Amban transmitted to amban the 
 knowledge of its whereabouts, and right loyally they 
 preserved their secret. And thus we come down to 
 the present time." 
 
 " Hold there again; Just So! I can tell pretty tall 
 tales myself at times, and you've just reached the 
 point at which I know, from a long and varied ex- 
 perience, someone would haul me up with a jerk — 
 How do you happen to know all this?" 
 
 G. W.'s voice had a triumphant ring. He thought 
 he had discovered a weak point in the story. 
 
 The Lama smiled. "How do you know that I 
 wasn't an amban myself?" he said. "Our comrade 
 Mac was at least a Chinese lama, I know, and some of 
 the Indian Government surveyors, British and native 
 born, have done many wonderful things in Lhasa." 
 
 "•Do you mean to say that any white men have 
 been in Lhasa since the French Abbe Hue?" cried 
 G.W. 
 
 Mac was apparently paying no attention to the 
 story; he had heard it all before, and the pass was 
 now becoming steep. They were approaching the 
 zone at which even the hardy birch ceased to grow. 
 Far up the distant snow-clad summit glistened in the 
 warm sunlight, but only a mile ahead a transverse 
 gully, leading to the right, marked the course of a 
 great glacier, over the surface of which the little band 
 would force a passage onwards and upwards to the 
 pass, known only to the few adventurous explorers 
 who had used it. 
 
138 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 "Certainly not white externally," the Lama an- 
 swered G. W. "They were disguised as Chinese 
 or Indian pilgrims. I know of four white men who 
 have penetrated to Lhasa in this manner, and three — 
 I mean some of them — are members of this expedition. 
 Anyhow, the story of the prophecy is well known to 
 everyone; the fact that the Chinese knew where the 
 eye was also became known to some of these white 
 men, and one of them eventually found it, although 
 probably not where it had first been hidden. He 
 was taken prisoner soon afterwards, but his comrade 
 escaped with the eye, and since then it has changed 
 hands many times, in order to cheat the wonderfully- 
 gifted secret agents the Chinese have sent out to regain 
 its possession. All this time some people in Britain 
 knew that the treasure was at their disposal, and kept 
 well in touch with it through its numerous changes of 
 ownership. But Russia, too, had agents after it, for 
 each Power knew what its possession might mean. 
 However, Russia has got her hands full with Japan 
 at present. If she wins there will be no holding her 
 back in Asia, and if she loses she will be forced to 
 move southwards, seeing that the Pacific will be 
 closed to her. Hence the necessity for our people 
 to control the eye, for, although Britain doesn't wish 
 to annex Tibet, she can't in the interests of her 
 Indian Empire allow Russia to do so." 
 
 " I am glad to hear that old grandmother Britain is 
 not sleeping," remarked G. W. "But what has the 
 whole thing got to do with us anyhow?" 
 
 "We happen to be the men employed by the 
 present owners of the eye to look after the interests 
 or Britain. We have to get into the forbidden 
 country and lose ourselves among the gold deposits 
 or elsewhere until Russia's plans are clear, then 
 
The Eye of the War God 139 
 
 we've to act so as to check them. I can't understand, 
 though, why Colonel Younghusband is invading 
 Tibet in force. That seems to show that the autho- 
 rities know nothing of our mission, and perhaps it 
 is just as well. Complications might arise if they 
 did, and we are better off acting independently. 
 
 The Prince Lama relapsed into a thoughtful silence, 
 and for some minutes nothing could be heard but the 
 deep breathing of the men, and the crash of dislodged 
 stones, as they rolled from their feet into a ravine 
 which now tormed the bottom of the pass. The 
 American was evidently thinking, too, and as they 
 climbed over a shoulder and turned up the glacier 
 course, which ran into the main pass, his thoughts 
 found expression. 
 
 "There's one thing that worries me, Prince," he 
 said, "and I hope you won't take offence at my 
 saying it; but how does it happen that you have 
 this expedition in charge? Has Britain no men of 
 her own that she has to give such jobs to niggers — 
 I beg your pardon for using that word ; I don't mean 
 anything by it except that you are not a white man, 
 and " 
 
 "You are not exactly a white man yourself at 
 present." 
 
 "No, but I'm adaptable, you see, like Mac. Now, 
 we can make ourselves either white or black, but a 
 black man can't turn himself white." 
 
 "Indeed! what about Cyrus Higgins's process? 
 But you need not worry over my faithfulness to the 
 home people. I am a British subject through and 
 through; and, after all, you know, you are not. 
 It is to her native officers, too, that Britain owes 
 most of her knowledge of Nepal, Tibet, Western 
 China, Burmah and other places,' and it is on native 
 
140 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 troops she will have to depend should her Asiatic 
 frontiers be threatened." 
 
 " Prince, I am sorry I spoke. My tongue gets 
 twisted sometimes, and what I mean to say can't 
 get round the kinks, and it is something different 
 altogether that does get past at last. But, by gosh ! 
 this little hill climb of ours is getting mighty stiff." 
 
 "Yes, we are about twelve thousand feet high 
 just now, and the air is very rarefied. Take care of 
 your footsteps, boys! If you fall on the glacier, 
 you may slide back as far as we have come before 
 stopping." 
 
 " And then you may stop sudden-like," added 
 G. W. "Christmas! but we're getting into funny 
 country." 
 
 Mac looked back, as if he had serious thoughts of 
 correcting his comrade's description, but he changed 
 his mind and said nothing. The country was by 
 no means funny, however. The sides of the gorge 
 through which they were now travelling rose in a 
 series of frowning precipices for over six thousand 
 feet above them. Straight ahead, rising steeper as 
 it neared the culminating saddle-back ridge, which 
 formed the apex of the flanking walls, the white 
 glacier track extended. The heat of the sun was 
 intense, and the ice was so sticky with the conden- 
 sation that it required an effort to lift the feet from 
 it. George felt that if he could only throw off his 
 load, his clothes, his thoughts, his everything, he 
 might struggle against the awful weight of the air. 
 He did not know that it was the lack of weight, so 
 to speak, of the air that caused his strange feeling. 
 The snow-clad mountains were now closing round 
 and the summit of the pass was in sight, but only 
 Mac and the Lama knew how delusive was the dis- 
 
The Eye of the War God 141 
 
 tance which intervened. Soon they came to a point 
 where the glacier was rent in great fissures, and 
 it was only by exercising the utmost care that 
 they negotiated those awful chasms. On and on 
 they struggled, each man was lost in his own 
 thoughts and had no time to think of his fellow. 
 So at least it seemed, but Macandrew and the 
 Lama both anxiously watched the faces of their 
 comrades for signs of the dreaded mountain sick- 
 ness, although careful not to show their fears. 
 Smith dragged his feet along with an effort of all 
 his strength, but he felt that he must soon collapse. 
 He was made of heroic stuff, however, although 
 one might not expect to find heroes in the ranks 
 of those among whom his lot had been previously 
 cast. So he made no complaint, and steadily though 
 slowly the ascent continued. 
 
 "There's a poem I used to think a lot of at 
 school," said Macandrew after a long silence, "and 
 this little picnic party brings it forcibly to my 
 mind. ' Excelsior ' was its name, and there was a 
 laddie in it like Geegee, and a pass, maybe no' so 
 high as this one, and a banner with an inscription 
 on it." 
 
 "And if I can get the hang of my schooldays 
 right it war an American who wrote it," said G. W. 
 "Anything good is bound to be American. Now, 
 there's me for instance. Why, talking of passes, 
 too, I remember once when I was hunting for gold 
 up in the Klondyke I came to a pass leading right 
 through a range of mountains to the North Pole. 
 It was marked ' Private Road ', though, so I didn't 
 go through it " 
 
 A great mass of snow broke from a cliff over- 
 head and fell with a terrific reverberating roar on 
 
142 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 the glacier only some yards in front. A dazzling 
 cloud of soft powdery iceflakes arose and hung 
 floating in the air for a full minute and then settled 
 down again. The scene was now just the same as 
 it had been a minute previously, but had the on- 
 lookers been where the avalanche fell, the Tibet 
 secret mission would have been ended. 
 
 Mac turned wrathfully to G. W. "Do you see 
 what you've done?" he cried. " If it weren't that 
 I had had my eye on that snowfield for some time 
 and slowed down a bit, we would have been under 
 it. You and your private road to the North Pole! 
 No wonder the avalanche came down. You ought 
 to be ashamed of yourself " 
 
 "Don't get rusty, Mac," implored G. W. "How 
 was I to know the blamed snow slide was listen- 
 ing? And my bell didn't ring either. I expect 
 it can't work in a vacuum like what we are in 
 now." 
 
 "The people who frequent this part of the world 
 would tell you that it was the mountain spirits who 
 threw that down upon you," the Lama said by way 
 of making peace. "The summits of all the Hima- 
 layas are supposed to be peopled by strange spirits, 
 who keenly resent the intrusion of human beings 
 into their domain. Look, they are throwing snow- 
 balls at us now ! " And indeed it seemed as if some- 
 one was playing a trick upon them, for rolling down 
 from the smooth slopes near the top of the gorge were 
 innumerable little balls of snow. 
 
 " Howling blizzards!" exclaimed G.W. "I didn't 
 start them anyway, Mac. We'll get knocked out with 
 them." 
 
 " Creep in to the side of that rock," the Lama said 
 hurriedly. "These balls will be as large as houses 
 
The Eye of the War God 143 
 
 before they reach the glacier, and if one hits us it 
 means farewell to Tibet." 
 
 They crawled into the shelter of a wall of rock, 
 and, fascinated, watched the growing balls leap from 
 ledge to ledge. Sometimes they broke, and the val- 
 ley re-echoed with whip-like sounds when this hap- 
 pened, but a number were still intact, and these were 
 coming down with great velocity, increasing in size 
 every bound. At length they cleared the last ledge, 
 and shot themselves down upon the glacier. It was 
 a perilous time. Breathlessly the men watched their 
 descent, and only when the last had followed the 
 others jover the wall, did they venture from their 
 shelter to see where they had fallen, and the reason 
 of the thunderous noise now shrieking down the 
 ravine, as if expressing the chagrin of the spirits 
 that the intruders had escaped. Each ball had 
 jumped the full breadth of the pass, and had burst 
 itself upon the far wall. 
 
 "It's lucky we were on this side," Geegee remarked. 
 "We would have been crushed under that snow cloud 
 sweeping down the other side, even if the balls had 
 missed us." 
 
 ' ' You'll live to cry ' Excelsior ! ' on the top of 
 the pass yet, Geegee," Macandrew said. "Have 
 you got a ' banner with a strange device ' ready? " 
 
 "No," the boy laughed. "I'll be glad enough 
 to get up without shouting about it. The Tibetans 
 will do that if they find us out." 
 
 " Nevertheless, Geegee has his talisman with a 
 strange device," the Lama said. "But the words 
 are ' Om Mani Padmi Hum'." 
 
 "And what in thunder is 'Om Mani Padmi 
 Hum'?" asked G. W. "Is it something for eat- 
 ing?" 
 
144 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 "It is the Buddhist prayer formula, meaning 'Oh, 
 Jewel of the Lotus Flower ! ' " the Lama replied. 
 
 " Oh, I'll remember, then, for I mean to be a 
 good Buddhist. But what sort of talisman is it 
 that Geegee has got hold of? Anything like that 
 wonderful eye you told us about?" 
 
 "It is the eye." 
 
 "What?" yelled the American. Macandrew was 
 silent. Smith was gasping, partly in wonderment 
 and partly for want of air. George himself was 
 self-possessed. He had guessed the meaning of the 
 stone when the Lama was telling its story. But 
 next moment he was startled beyond measure, and 
 he thought his senses were deserting him, or had 
 been stolen by the spirits. 
 
 " Yes," the Lama was saying, "it is only fitting 
 that Geegee should carry the All Seeing Eye. It 
 was his father who found it " 
 
 "Lend a hand, lads!" cried Mac. "Cash Bags 
 has collapsed." 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 Into the Forbidden Land 
 
 " I'll be all right in a minute," Cash Bags gasped. 
 "There's a fly in my ears and its buzzing has made 
 me sick. Someone is hammering on the top of my 
 
 head too — Oh! " Cash Bags rolled over in Mac's 
 
 arms and became unconscious. 
 
 "Poor old Cash Bags!" exclaimed G. W. sym- 
 pathizingly. "He must be pretty bad." 
 
 "He has been," said the Lama, pressing his fingers 
 lightly over the unconscious one's eyelids. "But 
 he's fought it to a finish and he'll be all right shortly. 
 This is not a fainting fit, it is natural sleep. How do 
 you feel, Geegee?" 
 
 " Not brilliant, sir. My head seems as if it were 
 just about to burst along the top, and I could almost 
 swear there is some insect buzzing in my ears. I've 
 got slightly better of late, though, and think if I sat 
 down for a minute I would be all right." 
 
 " We have been climbing too fast," Mac said, 
 "but a few minutes' rest here will do a lot of 
 good. I have been forcing the pace, so that we 
 would have got over the worst part of the pass before 
 the sleepy feeling came on, and as long as Geegee's 
 nose wasn't bleeding — the first sign of mountain sick- 
 ness — I thought everyone was feeling all right." 
 
 "Have we much farther to climb on this 'Excel- 
 
 (09) 145 10 
 
146 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 sior ' record-breaking trip?" asked the American, look- 
 ing towards the point where the white summit blended 
 into the vapoury horizon. "I guess seasickness is 
 a fool to this kind of feeling." 
 
 "Sit down and breathe hard for a little," the Lama 
 advised. "The next hour will see us over our 
 troubles, but we must not stop when we do start, 
 or we'll be stuck on this side of that steep climb 
 ahead all night. After we negotiate that vertical 
 five hundred feet the pass rises so imperceptibly to 
 the real summit, that we'll not feel the changing of 
 the air." 
 
 " I am quite better now," cried Geegee, rising fromt 
 his seat on the glacier; "and see, Smith is coming 
 round too." 
 
 " Cash Bags, laddie," corrected Mac. "Remember 
 we're in the country where transmigration is the rule, 
 and although we're no' just specialists in the matter, 
 we've transmogrified Smith the Londoner into the 
 more euphonious Cash Bags, the Hindoo pilgrim. 
 Get up, Cash Bags! I'll carry you a bit, and you'll 
 soon be the most energetic man in the party. Why, 
 you are better already." 
 
 Cash Bags sat up, rubbed his eyes, and looked 
 around him. " What has happened, boys?" he cried. 
 " I feel I've been sleeping for years, and yet you are 
 all just the same as when I last saw you in that 
 awful pass." 
 
 "And you are still in the pass," said the Lama. 
 "You've slept three minutes. How do you feel 
 now?" 
 
 "Three minutes!" he exclaimed, jumping to his 
 feet. "Do you mean to say that I've been captured 
 by the Tibetans, and thrown over the sacred cliffs 
 and changed into another being in three minutes?" 
 
Into the Forbidden Land 147 
 
 His astonishment was great, and to a certain extent 
 amusing, to his comrades. 
 
 "You've been dreaming, Cash Bags," the Lama 
 said. "You were not captured by the Tibetans, you 
 were never away from us." 
 
 " And did I dream about an idol's eye that Geegee's 
 father found, and " 
 
 "Or did I dream that?" asked Geegee. "I feel 
 as if I had been dreaming too." 
 
 " I guess we've all been doing a bit of dream 
 work," put in G. W. " I'm punctured if I can say 
 now if it was I or Mac who' told that yarn about 
 the eye of a god and its wonderful powers, and of 
 how Russia was looking for it, and we had found 
 it, and had come here to start a holy war, what- 
 ever that means " 
 
 "We'll let the authorship rest until we get over 
 the top," laughed Mac, with a glance at the Lama 
 for approval. 
 
 But G. W. would not hear of Mac's proposal. 
 "We'll settle that now," he said. "That blamed 
 yarn has got a powerful grip of me and I want to 
 get the proper hang of it. Gosh! I remember now, 
 it was Just So who yanked it out." 
 
 "It was," answered the Lama, smiling and showing 
 his gleaming white teeth. "But it was more than 
 a story. It was fact, and told to you because the 
 knowledge was essential." 
 
 " Did you say, sir, that it was my father who found 
 the eye of the idol?" Geegee broke in, still only 
 half-convinced that he had not dreamt the whole 
 story. 
 
 "I did," replied the Lama as they resumed their 
 journey. "Your father was a British officer in the 
 Indian Government Survey department, and with 
 
148 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 some of his native subordinates worked a way into 
 Lhasa. Mr. Deverell advised me that you were 
 Captain Gray's son, and actually the bearer of the 
 identical stone to me. And you shall keep it, Geegee, 
 until it is restored, or other arrangements made be- 
 tween the Chinese, Russian, and British Govern- 
 ments regarding the future of Tibet " 
 
 " You might shut off steam for a revolution or so, 
 Just So," said G. W. "We didn't altogether cotton 
 on to the full meaning of what you were saying 
 
 when Cash Bags knocked out But, look here, 
 
 Mac, can't you edge a word in? I find it's mighty 
 hard work doing all the phonographing at fourteen 
 thousand feet above sea level." 
 
 "Then don't do it," Mac advised. "Use your 
 thinking machinery instead and you'll get as near 
 things as you can, by vibrating that articulator of 
 yours; forbye, it'll no' be such a big drain on your 
 wind chest." 
 
 "But the Lama hasn't made things quite clear, or 
 else I'm half-dreaming now." 
 
 "I favour the latter supposition," grunted Mac. 
 "The Lama has been talking all the time " 
 
 " And I can assure you I am just about winded 
 now," the Lama added. "It is very difficult to sus- 
 tain one's voice at this altitude, and perhaps I have 
 been too sparing in my words. Another reason why 
 you have not fully understood me too, G. W., may 
 be because of your deafness. At this height the 
 hearing is dulled, and, in fact, all our powers of 
 perception are very much affected by the rapid 
 change from the atmospheric environment we have 
 been used to." 
 
 "But will we get back all our powers when we 
 reach the top?" persisted G. W. "I don't like the 
 
Into the Forbidden Land 149 
 
 idea of having to fight Tibetans while I'm a half- 
 idiot." 
 
 "Don't worry, G. W.," spoke Mac, "you'll get 
 used to the feeling; and anyhow, when your various 
 faculties get time to adapt themselves to having to 
 do their duties three miles or so up in the air, they'll 
 be as keen as ever they were. Now, don't waste 
 another word, for you'll need all your wind power 
 to get over this Jacob's ladder in front of us." 
 
 And, indeed, it now looked as if farther progress 
 was impossible. The great walls had suddenly closed 
 in, and the glacier track rose at an angle of nearly 
 sixty degrees from their feet, to the point where it 
 threw itself over. Above that point on either side 
 two white peaks rose boldly into the sky, but in all 
 probability no human being would ever tread their 
 virgin slopes. They would for ever remain sacred 
 to the spirits of the Himalayas. The American sat 
 down on a detached block of ice, and gazed up at 
 the narrow defile. 
 
 "Are we going up there?" he asked, after a long 
 silence, during which the Lama and Mac had been 
 uncoiling some ropes from their packs. 
 
 " We are," Mac replied. " Are you afraid?" 
 
 "I guess not, old man; G. W. will back himself 
 to go where any other two-footed sinner can wriggle, 
 but I wish I had brought my balloon with me " 
 
 "It wouldn't do you much good," the Lama said. 
 "The air is not dense enough to support a bal- 
 loon." 
 
 "I wish I were a bird, then," the irrepressible 
 G. W. went on reflectively. 
 
 "Do you?" Mac grunted. "Then keep on wish- 
 ing that, and you'll maybe find yourself an old half- 
 starved crow directly. People who live among the 
 
150 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 Himalayas change into animals and birds when they 
 die, you know." 
 
 " Thanks, Mac, but I'm not going to give up my 
 ticket just yet even to become a crow. How do you 
 propose tackling the job? You can't keep your feet 
 on that ice." 
 
 " I've done it before. Hitch yourself on to this 
 rope and we'll do it again; and for any sake, say 
 less." 
 
 "Blow you, Mac! you would make any man 
 speak. Do you mean to climb this iceberg all roped 
 together? See, give me the rope and stand there." 
 
 He seized the rope, and, kicking off his boots, he 
 pulled his mittens over his hands and rushed at the 
 sloping wall of rough ice. His intention was quite 
 apparent to all, but could he do it? Could he obtain 
 a foothold as far up as the length of rope would 
 allow, and pull the others up? It came about that 
 he could. His stockinged feet gripped the rough 
 ice firmly, and his covered hands seemed to glue 
 themselves to the wall, almost as a fly sticks to a 
 ceiling. As for a foothold, nature provided that. 
 Here and there in the ice large boulders were em- 
 bedded, and their projecting surfaces served that 
 purpose admirably. 
 
 "This isn't a glacier, boys," he shouted. "It's 
 only frozen snow which was too lazy to roll to the 
 bottom, and it's covering the old gully bed." 
 
 "It doesn't matter to us what name you give it," 
 Mac answered. " I'm quite in agreement with you 
 that it isn't a glacier proper; if there ever is a thaw 
 up here, I should imagine there will be a fairly tall 
 waterfall coming over." 
 
 " But why is this not a glacier?" asked Geegee. 
 "Have we not followed the course of one all day?" 
 
Into the Forbidden Land 151 
 
 " Yes," said the Lama, " and we'll follow its course 
 again when we get to the top. It is broken up here, 
 though, because, when the slowly moving icefield 
 reaches that summit overhead, it simply topples over 
 and breaks. From the fragments another glacier 
 forms, of course, and moves down to feed some of 
 the Kali River's headwaters. That apparently solid 
 wall of ice we are going to climb over is the heaped- 
 up and freshly frozen pieces, which crashed down 
 from the glacier above. It doesn't reach all the 
 way, and after the first hundred feet we shall be on 
 the rocks which underlie it, except for the covering 
 of snow which makes the barrier resemble a con- 
 tinuous ice bridge to the top." 
 
 "I am afraid, sir, my senses are dulled too," Gee- 
 gee laughed. " I cannot quite grasp what you 
 say.'' 
 
 "And don't try," advised Mac, tying on his bundle 
 to the free end of the rope dropped from G.W. " We 
 are not members of a scientific expedition specially 
 sent out from London to study the question of the 
 glaciation of the Himalayas. But wait, I'll make 
 it clear." 
 
 " Shut up, Mac," implored G. W. from above. 
 "Remember what the la)st big word did." 
 
 "I'll just make one attempt to give a lucid ex- 
 planation of cause and effect for Geegee's benefit. 
 I've got wind enough, and it appeals to me when I 
 find a man like Geegee seeking for information, 
 which I know he canna get from any man but my- 
 self, and maybe the Lama, who, of course, not being 
 Scotch, couldn't be expected to express himself in 
 language of sufficient succinctness, shorn of all ver- 
 bosity, to make himself intelligible " 
 
 G. W. created a diversion by hurling a block of 
 
152 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 ice at the speaker. Even the Lama smiled, for Mac 
 was unusually loquacious. 
 
 "Mountain air affects some people differently," he 
 confided to Geegee; "but I have never known of 
 its tendency to make men talk before." 
 
 "I'll no' say another word after this brief expla- 
 nation," said Mac, overhearing. "But as I am a 
 sinner, I've forgotten what I was going to say." 
 He sent up the last of the loads and looked round 
 appealingly. 
 
 " I think you were talking about the South Sea 
 Island butterflies, Mac," G. W. suggested tenta- 
 tively. 
 
 "You were going to explain this broken glacier 
 to Geegee in a manner which could not fail to be 
 clear," the Lama said as Smith, assisted by the rope, 
 swarmed up beside G.W. 
 
 "Oh, yes! Well, Geegee, just imagine that we 
 have been coming up a river all day, and that now 
 we're confronted with a waterfall, where it falls over 
 the rocks. Of course the river still exists over- 
 head." 
 
 "That is quite clear," Geegee admitted, following 
 Smith aloft. 
 
 "Then," continued Mac, raising his voice, "ima- 
 gine that the world was turned into a big refrigerator, 
 and the water of the river froze in an instant. Now, 
 the river below the falls would be a solid block of 
 ice, and above, it would be the same. But you 
 couldn't expect the waterfall itself to balance itself 
 in the air just because it had been turned into ice. 
 No, it would come down and shatter itself on the 
 ice below, and probably pile itself up on the face 
 of the rock to some height, where it would soon 
 freeze together again. That, then, is the explana- 
 
Into the Forbidden Land 153 
 
 tion of this place, only the water was always frozen, 
 and it still comes down periodically, but in chunks 
 
 weighing hundreds of tons and " 
 
 "Are you coming up to Tibet, Mac, or are we 
 to say goodbye?" cried G. W. ; and, realizing that 
 his comrades were all thirty odd feet up the ice 
 wall, Mac hastily scrambled up the rope after them. 
 Here he was gratified by hearing Geegee tell him 
 that he now understood the whole question of glacia- 
 tion ; but work of a serious nature being now started, 
 Mac had no further words of wisdom to throw away. 
 In silence they set about negotiating the next stage 
 in the ascent, and then the next; but soon it was 
 Geegee who scrambled up with the rope, for he, 
 being light, strong, and wiry of build, seemed to 
 suffer less from the effects of the thin air than any 
 of the others. At length they reached the top of 
 the piled-up ice wall, and found foothold in the 
 snow-covered rock crevices. Nevertheless, they re- 
 tained the rope system of hauling up their loads in 
 stages, and just when the sun was dipping behind 
 Nanda Devi, they found themselves on the top. 
 And it was a magnificent sight that now met their 
 eyes. Looking back, the distant forest-clad valleys 
 of the Pindar and Aliknanda rivers' headwaters could 
 be seen over the brows of the lower intervening 
 ridges. Glittering white in the last rays of the sun, 
 countless glaciers of the upper valleys marked the 
 sources of these streams, and here and there some 
 giant peak threw its head above the general level 
 into space. And as they looked a wonderful change 
 came over the scene. A dense white cloud crept 
 up the valley through which the Darma Pass track 
 ran, and spreading into the numerous gullies which 
 opened into it, soon filled the narrow ravine they 
 
154 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 had just come through, and obliterated the entire 
 lower world from sight. 
 
 "It is lucky we got up before that fellow got 
 round about us," remarked G. W. "I guess we 
 would have felt pretty damp with him for a blan- 
 ket Howling snakes! What's that?" 
 
 Floating in the air beneath on their left were five 
 gigantic elongated figures, one with a hand out- 
 stretched as if pointing out something. 
 
 " The spirits of the mountain," the Lama answered. 
 "Our reflections cast upon the clouds by the sun's 
 rays. Drop your arm and watch." 
 
 G.W. obeyed, and, sure enough, the great ghostly 
 figure with outstretched arm did the same. 
 
 "That is farewell to the pleasant plains of India 
 and the British Empire," the Lama continued. 
 " Look round now, comrades. Before us lies the 
 culminating ridge beyond which is the mystic land 
 of Tibet, the home of lamas, enchantment, temples, 
 and Buddhism " 
 
 "And chilblains and cold feet," added G.W., who 
 was not poetically inclined. 
 
 "If it is all the same to you fellows, I move we 
 have something to eat now," broke in Mac. "We've 
 ten miles to go before we reach that backbone ridge, 
 and I'm hungry enough now to eat Cash Bags." 
 
 Everyone thought the proposal a good one, and 
 in a few minutes all were devouring the contents 
 of a tin of preserved mutton. After this had been 
 finished, pieces of specially prepared chocolate were 
 handed round, and then the meal was over. It was 
 still early in the afternoon when they were ready to 
 start again and quite clear, both of which facts 
 puzzled Geegee and Cash Bags not a little, until 
 the Lama explained that, although the sun had sunk 
 
Into the Forbidden Land 155 
 
 behind Nanda Devi, it was by no means below 
 the level of the plains yet, nor would be for three 
 hours. 
 
 "And we'll just go through our last pass at dark," 
 Mac said. "However, it's an easy journey, and the 
 track leading from the Darma lies due north. We 
 should be a good bit ahead of the caravan that went 
 up this morning." 
 
 "By gum! I had forgotten all about C.H.J, and 
 the missionary," G.W. exclaimed. "What was the 
 idea in their little picnic, Lama?" 
 
 The air was less oppressive now, and all seemed 
 eager to talk, the reason being that they were not now 
 passing through ever-changing atmospheres, and 
 their lungs were becoming adapted to their work at 
 a fifteen-thousand-feet elevation. 
 
 "Well, comrades, I will explain any point now 
 which is not clear to you, if you will only remind 
 me of it. I scarcely remember myself what I have 
 already told you, and what I intended to let you 
 know. We took the climb too suddenly, and the 
 strain was a little too much for our senses." 
 
 "But we had to, Lama," said Mac. "You told 
 us that there was danger hanging round our move- 
 ments, and that we must get through our pass 
 while the caravan was being held up for examina- 
 tion by the Tibetans at the Darma Pass. Now we 
 want to know the meaning of that caravan, and 
 why our comrades went with it, seeing it is certain 
 to be stopped at the border." 
 
 " The caravan is our outfit, comrades, and the 
 men who are with it are picked natives of these 
 parts. They are the regular traders between Tibet 
 and India, and are not restricted in any way by the 
 Tibetans, after their goods have been examined. 
 
156 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 Our comrades went with them because both can 
 talk their language well, and I desired to know if 
 any news of our coming has preceded us. They 
 will find out. Tibet, as you know, is not closed 
 to natives of India, if they are not Government ser- 
 vants, and have no instruments with them for sur- 
 veying, photographing, or anything else which might 
 enable them to take back accurate knowledge of the 
 land forbidden to Europeans. Again, it is not really 
 the Tibetans whom we have to fear ; it is the Chinese 
 who govern the country in the name of the Dalai 
 Lama, and who have every reason — if they know 
 our mission — to fear us." 
 
 " May I ask a question, sir?" 
 
 "Certainly, Geegee, as many as you like." 
 
 " It's all true what you told us about the eye of the 
 idol and its meaning?" 
 
 " It is. The story is known throughout China, 
 Siam, India, and all Buddhist countries." 
 
 " But do you know that it was my father who found 
 the stone?" 
 
 " I believe so. I have the word of your comrade, 
 Gampo, that he was the finder. " 
 
 " Gampo spoke truly," put in Mac. " I can tell 
 a tale about him too." 
 
 "Who in thunder is Gampo?" G. W. interrupted. 
 "The name is a bit familiar to me, although I think 
 it suggests rainy weather." 
 
 " Gampo is the name Charles Hendry James Lynd- 
 hurst is known by throughout China and its tributary 
 States," said the Lama. " He was the comrade of 
 Captain Gray, and escaped from Lhasa after having 
 undergone severe torture inflicted by the Chinese 
 authorities there. He succeeded in carrying the 
 stone away with him " 
 
Into the Forbidden Land 157 
 
 "Then my father may be alive even now?" cried 
 George, greatly excited. 
 
 "Alas! no, my boy," the Lama said kindly. 
 " Gampo himself saw him die." 
 
 "And here's a weak sinfu' mortal who has some 
 doubts about Captain Gray having done anything 
 of the sort," broke in Mac, with a suddenly acquired 
 interest in the conversation. " Geegee, I am afraid 
 to raise hopes, which after all may be without any 
 substantial foundation ; but since the Prince — I mean 
 the Lama — spoke this morning, I have been thinking 
 over one or two things that are within my knowledge." 
 
 "What do you mean, Mac?" It was the Lama 
 who spoke. 
 
 " I mean that but for a certain native in Lhasa, 
 I would not be here now. In fact, I was in vera 
 serious trouble when he turned up and helped me 
 to get clear of the murderous crowd. Now, it is a 
 fact, that everyone here will admit, that a black or 
 copper-coloured skin doesna necessarily mean that 
 its wearer is a native of either India or China, and 
 I'm thinkin' that that native wouldn't need old Hig- 
 gins's process to make him white. Since I've had 
 the opportunity of studying Geegee's face too in 
 its disguise, that impression has grown stronger; 
 for I'll go my pretty small hope of salvation that 
 nineteen or twenty years ago the face of my native 
 wasn't unlike Geegee's." 
 
 "Stars and Stripes for ever!" yelled G.W., throw- 
 ing his fur-lined skullcap into the air. "Mac, old 
 man, I'll go with you now straight into Lhasa, and 
 we'll haul him out, even if we've got to give the 
 Dalai Lama a chance for another re-incarnation 
 first." 
 
 "Men, do be reasonable," cried the Lama. "See 
 
i58 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 the state Geegee is in. It isn't kind to raise hopes 
 which cannot possibly ever come to anything — -" 
 
 "Look here, Lama," interrupted G.W., "you are 
 a blamed good fellow, and can talk solid sense every 
 time — but hang it, you are neither a Britisher nor an 
 American, and can't savvy the fact that nothing is 
 impossible to citizens of these States. If my mate 
 Mac says there is the ghost of a hope that Geegee's 
 father is alive, he and this child are going in to Lhasa 
 first train, and your British Government, secret ex- 
 pedition, and idol's eye, can go to blazes if they 
 mean that we can't — ■-" 
 
 "This expedition is going there itself," said the 
 Lama quietly, "and by the soonest possible practi- 
 cable way. And although you may not be inclined 
 to give me the honour of being a Briton or an 
 American, I think, should there be any reason for 
 the faintest hope that Geegee's father is alive in 
 Lhasa, that this son of Greater Britain, as true a 
 subject of the King as ever trod the streets of London, 
 will not be the last of this crowd to get into that 
 city." 
 
 " Put your flapper there, Lama," G.W. cried. " I 
 apologize for not allowing you were white through 
 and through, even if your skin does happen to be 
 a black that won't wash off." 
 
 The American reached out his hand, and, grasp- 
 ing it in a grip that made G.W. wince, the Lama 
 sealed the compact of friendship. 
 
 And now Geegee was filled with strange thrills. 
 What if his father were really alive after so many 
 years? Could it be possible? Yes, it must be. 
 Was not the fact that he was now about to enter 
 that dark unknown land himself proof that some 
 Higher Power was leading him on for some pur- 
 
Into the Forbidden Land 159 
 
 pose? Did he not from the very first feel that 
 destiny was leading him by the hand? How strange 
 it all was too! To think that he should be a com- 
 rade of such men as Mac, G. W., and the Lama, 
 and that he had on his person at that moment the 
 very stone his father had found, and which was 
 fraught with so much importance to at least three 
 great nations. No wonder everything was kept 
 secret. But what had happened to the man who 
 nad given him the moonstone in the heel of his 
 boot? Would he ever see him again, if only to 
 explain that he had delivered his message? How 
 clearly the working of fate was in evidence now! 
 Had he not been unemployed he would not have 
 been at Victoria Station that morning. Had he 
 not been there he would not have seen the tall 
 stranger depart, and if he had not seen that, he 
 would not have taken any notice of him in the streets 
 that night. But then the attack on him by the 
 mysterious Orientals might have roused his interest. 
 No, for had he not been curious to know more of a 
 man whom he had seen before, he would merely 
 have concluded that the whole affair was some trick 
 being played between friends, and given the thought 
 no further attention. However, he followed the motor 
 car, received the message from Mr. Deverell, and in 
 consequence was made a member of the expedition. 
 Then the American, Mac, and the missionary came 
 on the scene, then the Prince, and now he was 
 disguised as a native and entering Tibet with all 
 of them for comrades. And Mac had just said he 
 believed his father was still alive. Yes, he must 
 be. It was because of that that fate had led him 
 there. Fate was kind to him, henceforth he would 
 trust the great All Wise in all things His 
 
i6o Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 thoughts flew on in this strain for some time, and 
 he did not hear the conversation of his comrades, 
 nor was he aware that poor Cash Bags had also 
 vowed to turn Lhasa inside out if need be on his 
 behalf. 
 
 But there came a reaction. Why, if his father 
 were alive, did he remain in Lhasa? Surely he 
 could have escaped, unless he were a closely watched 
 prisoner. And if so, surely some means could have 
 been found to make the Indian Government authori- 
 ties aware of the fact. Then, if he were in Lhasa, 
 how was it that none of these native surveyors who 
 had penetrated thither had seen him, nor, apparently, 
 heard of him, and was he not one of themselves ? 
 
 "Just what I'm thinking, Geegee," the voice of 
 G. W. broke in; and the lad realized that he had 
 been voicing his thoughts unconsciously. 
 
 "They couldn't help hearing of him unless Lhasa 
 is bigger than New York, London, and Chicago 
 
 rolled into one. But I say, Geegee " Here the 
 
 American lowered his voice mysteriously. "They 
 have heard of him. You take my tip; it isn't for 
 any sacred eye or anything of that sort that the 
 British are sending an armed force into Tibet. The 
 Lama doesn't know what it is going for, simply be- 
 cause the British Government doesn't always adver- 
 tise its real object for doing anything in the leading 
 newspapers. I'll go a dollar it is pulling wool over 
 some people's eyes." 
 
 "I don't know much about the game nations play 
 called diplomacy," observed Mac, "but I should 
 fancy that it is a diplomatic move someone has 
 engineered. Britain couldn't very well force Russia 
 to take her soldiers away from the north side of 
 Tibet, but perhaps Japan may have done so by 
 
Into the Forbidden Land 161 
 
 killing off a lot in Manchuria. Now Britain takes 
 her opportunity when Russia has her hands full, 
 and intends paying the Dalai Lama a visit with 
 some odd field guns and other implements of peace 
 and goodwill. I fancy these Himalayan spirits will 
 get a surprise when they see or hear big guns going 
 over the passes." 
 
 ' ' What chiefly troubles me is the knowledge that, 
 when we replace the eye, the people will rise in 
 arms to a man to fight the British as well as the 
 Russians," the Lama said. "At present, of course, 
 it will be mostly the Chinese soldiers who will 
 oppose invaders; the Tibetans themselves, unless 
 ordered by the Dalai Lama to fight, will be almost 
 indifferent." 
 
 "Was the object of our mission to restore the 
 eye at the earliest possible moment?" asked Mac. 
 
 " Not exactly, although it seemed when we left 
 Britain that the sooner it was done, the easier it 
 would be to eject Russia without much bloodshed. 
 Instructions were given to be cautious, however, 
 and to calculate well all probable results before 
 making any drastic movements. And now you know 
 all that I know." 
 
 " It looks to me as if that advice was not given 
 without a purpose lying behind it," Mac went on. 
 "I should also say that when we left, our people 
 didn't expect that Japan would put up such a 
 good fight as she seems to have been doing, and 
 meant us to do our work when Russia had finished 
 the war and was advancing south again. But 
 there was a chance that Russia might find her 
 work cut out for her with Japan, and wouldn't be 
 able to advance in any direction in Asia, hence the 
 instructions to calculate the results; for there could 
 
 (09) 11 
 
i6 2 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 be no good to Britain in our restoring the eye, if 
 there were no necessity to drive any Power out of 
 Tibet." 
 
 "If I may give an opinion, sir," said Geegee, 
 " I think that everything was left to your discretion. 
 You were to reason out matters for yourself and act 
 accordingly. This British Indian armed force seems 
 one of these circumstances which should materially 
 alter the original scheme of at once restoring the 
 eye. I know that other people are looking for the 
 eye also, and if it fell into their hands, and they 
 put it back in its place, and as a result the British 
 force was annihilated, it would be but poor com- 
 pensation to know that the Russians had suffered 
 a similar fate." 
 
 "I don't see what all the argument is about," 
 broke in the American. " We have no business 
 with armed forces of any nationality. We are a 
 peaceful expedition sent to restore some lost property 
 which has been advertised as missing for a long 
 time. But we have to see that the rightful owners 
 get it, not those who stole it and lost it, and to do 
 that requires some fine work which can only be 
 done on the spot. Let's steer for Lhasa." 
 
 " Lhasa is our destination, as I have already said," 
 the Lama answered; "but it is absolutely impossible 
 to get there by the ordinary pilgrim or trade routes. 
 Several famous explorers have tried it in various dis- 
 guises, but all have failed. We must get off the 
 beaten track and try to reach the sacred city by means 
 which will never be suspected. When such men as 
 the brave American Rockhill, the Frenchman Bon- 
 yalot, the intrepid Britons Littledale, Welby, and 
 Deasy, and the indefatigable Swede, Sven Hedin, 
 have found it impossible to penetrate to Lhasa, 
 
Into the Forbidden Land 163 
 
 there could be but little hope for us, however de- 
 termined we were. The Dalai Lama knew all the 
 movements of these soldiers and explorers, and al- 
 though they thought they were not detected until 
 they were turned back, that was an error of theirs; 
 for they were never really free from surveillance." 
 
 "Then what are your plans?" asked Mac. "I 
 don't suppose you have a flying machine for the job." 
 
 " My plans are exactly what I told you in Colombo. 
 We will get into the country, and joining our own 
 caravan will make for the goldfields in the opposite 
 direction to Lhasa. There we will work as legitimate 
 tax-paying Nepalese miners, or borax traders, until 
 we have gathered all the information possible about 
 the country. Then some of us will make the attempt 
 to reach Lhasa by the great Chinese goldfields route, 
 and the others will cover their movements by creating 
 some diversion which will draw attention upon them. 
 As for the rest, we must take our chances as they 
 come and act as seems best " 
 
 " I see fires in the middle of that pass in front," 
 interrupted Smith, "and there are a lot of soldiers 
 with long guns standing round them." 
 
 " Lie flat, boys!" exclaimed Mac at once. " We're 
 spotted. That is a Tibetan guard watching this pass. 
 They must have known we were coming." 
 
 "Now for the fun," muttered G. W., as with the 
 others he dropped down in the snow. "I was wonder- 
 ing when this secret mission would find some work 
 to do, for up till now it has been talky talky muchee 
 muchee " 
 
 "Shut up!" growled Mac. "They haven't seen 
 us after all. Lie still for ten minutes and it will be 
 dark." 
 
 "Great Mississippi! Mac, you don't mean to lie 
 
i6 4 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 here in the snow until it is dark, surely? And all for 
 a dozen pig-tailed Chinamen. Let's rush them and 
 boil some coffee on their fires." 
 
 "Can't we go round about?" asked Smith. He 
 was a peace-loving youth by nature. 
 
 "Yes, if you climb those peaks," answered the 
 Lama. "They are twenty-six thousand feet in height, 
 though." 
 
 " Where in thunder did they get the timber for 
 their fires?" asked G. W. " We are a long way 
 above timber limit." 
 
 "They carried it from the valley on the other side, 
 of course," muttered Mac by way of reply; "and 
 they're likely getting ready to roast us. What do 
 you think, Lama?" 
 
 "I fear they must have been warned of our ap- 
 proach. There is no regular guard on this pass, 
 because it is never used. I wonder what has hap- 
 pened to our comrades with the caravan?" 
 
 "We'll soon know," Mac answered. "Listen, 
 boys! I know how to deal with the Chinese. Let 
 every man crawl up as near as he can, keeping in 
 the shadows of those black Tibetan tents. I will 
 take the other side of the pass, and when you are 
 all as near as you can get, I will rush in among 
 them howling with all the steam power my boilers 
 can raise. They will come after me like a cloud 
 of mosquitoes, and then you can pass through." 
 
 "And you, Mac?" the Lama said. "What about 
 you?" 
 
 " Nothing. They'll catch me after a bit, and find 
 I'm a Shoka shepherd who has got lost, and who has 
 been seeing mountain spirits. I'll get a meal from 
 them likely, and be put upon the right track, and 
 I'll soon catch you fellows again." 
 
Into the Forbidden Land 165 
 
 "A splendid idea, Mac, only I will borrow it. 
 I will take your place. They might try Cyrus 
 Higgins's process on your skin, you know." 
 
 "Ay," said Mac dryly, "but I'm thinking that 
 even a genuine black man wouldn't survive that. I'll 
 be the Shoka. I know the ways of the yellowskins 
 better even I think than you, Lama. But come 
 along now, it is as dark as it will be. Spread out 
 and keep to your left." 
 
 "If it's a howling circus that's wanted, I guess I 
 can raise that as good as any man," said G. W. 
 " How about me as the Shoka?" 
 
 "A fine Shoka you would make," laughed Mac 
 derisively. "You don't know a word of their lan- 
 guage." 
 
 "True, but these Chinese may not know it 
 either " 
 
 "Comrades, I must warn you not to take these 
 people in front of us too cheaply," the Lama said. 
 ' ' They are the picked soldiers of the Chinese Em- 
 pire, and their officers are highly educated men. 
 They can certainly talk all the languages spoken 
 in and around Tibet. Mac, on second thoughts I 
 think you are the best man to carry out your own 
 plan. We will come back for you, if you do not 
 join us on the Darma track in two hours. As you 
 know, it lies a mile beyond this pass." 
 
 " I'll be there all right, maybe before you. Be 
 ready to run when you hear my sweet Scotch 
 voice. " 
 
 It was now quite dark, and, spreading out, all com- 
 menced making their way towards the encampment 
 of black woven tents, peculiarly Tibetan, which were 
 pitched in the little defile which formed the last pass 
 in the range. 
 
i66 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 The Chinese guard had evidently not been there 
 long, for the tents were not yet roped properly, and 
 the openings along the ridges for ventilation were not 
 adjusted. 
 
 Geegee crawled along by himself, having lost touch 
 with Smith his nearest neighbour when they started. 
 Soon he gained the shadows of the pass, and running 
 along silently he drew up just outside one of the tents 
 and waited for the outcry. The soldiers were still 
 grouped round the fires beyond, and so strange and 
 uncouth did they appear in Geegee's eyes that he 
 could scarcely restrain his laughter. But he knew 
 that these comic-opera-looking soldiers had a repu- 
 tation of which any European army battalion might 
 be proud ; for had they not at one time marched 
 a thousand miles over gigantic mountain ranges and 
 across mighty rivers, and finally almost annihilated 
 an army of double their own strength of Gurkhas in 
 their own country? They had done all this, as the 
 missionary told him, living solely on rice, and with 
 cannons made of leather as their deadliest weapons. 
 
 Geegee laid himself flat upon the ground and 
 waited, his eyes fixed ahead. He held his breath. 
 Not a sound could he detect to indicate the presence 
 of his comrades, yet he knew they were not many feet 
 away from him. The situation thrilled him intensely, 
 but his nerves were in full control. This was no 
 schoolboy game he was taking part in, and the pen- 
 alty attached to those who failed to get through the 
 lines was not pleasant to contemplate. He wondered 
 why Mac was so long in fulfilling his part of the 
 arrangement, then he suddenly forgot his environ- 
 ment and his heart ceased beating. A light had 
 appeared in the tent nearest him, and through its 
 open doorway he could see that it held occupants. 
 
GEORGE COMES TO THE RESCUE 
 
Into the Forbidden Land 167 
 
 He almost cried out in his startled amazement. In 
 the tent were three men, and he recognized them 
 all. They were the missionary, Mr. Lyndhurst, and 
 one of the strange Oriental-looking men whom he 
 had first seen in Victoria Station, and whose motor 
 car tracks he had afterwards followed during the 
 night. The first two men were bound by leather 
 thongs and their faces had the appearance of having 
 recently been vigorously scrubbed. They were white. 
 
 The Oriental was bending over them silently feel- 
 ing among their garments, as if in search of some 
 object which he thought might be secreted there. 
 
 In the gold-mounted belt which girdled his richly 
 embroidered yellow silk garments was a long curved 
 knife sheath, also highly ornamented, and from the 
 top of one of his green velvet top boots a smaller, 
 but naked steel, blade projected. George was quick 
 to think, but sometimes he acted even faster and 
 thought afterwards. And this was one of those latter 
 occasions. Hardly a moment had elapsed since he 
 had first become aware of the identity of the prisoners, 
 and the next he had sprung through the doorway, and 
 on to the back of the stooping Oriental, his two hands 
 clutching his throat with all the strength he could 
 concentrate in them. This was at least as much as 
 that of most men twice his age, and perhaps more 
 effective in its results, for he had trained himself well 
 how to use the utmost ounce of strength nature had 
 given him. The force of the impact, as the lad 
 had calculated, bore the man to the ground over 
 the bodies of the two prisoners. For a moment he 
 struggled for articulation, and kicked wildly, but 
 the relentless grip never relaxed and soon oblivion 
 came. 
 
 Meanwhile the camp was in an uproar. Men were 
 
1 68 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 running about with lights, and shouting in high 
 falsetto voices, and some shots fired added to the 
 tumult. 
 
 George threw his unconscious victim clear of his 
 comrades and stood up. They looked at him indiffer- 
 ently. Evidently they were accustomed to strange 
 doings in a Chinese encampment or expected them. 
 
 "Quick!" the boy cried, pulling the jewelled knife 
 from its sheath in the Oriental's belt, "we have no 
 time to lose " 
 
 "George!" gasped both men simultaneously. Then 
 they were silent. Words could not express their 
 chaotic thoughts and emotion. But already the lad 
 had cut their bonds and they were striving to stand 
 on their feet. 
 
 "Come now," he cried. "They are chasing Mac 
 
 at present and our road is open " The words died 
 
 on his lips, for a party of gesticulating soldiers had 
 entered the tent. That they had come to report 
 something to the gorgeously-dressed person lying 
 in the corner was probable, but they did not then 
 do so. The little man threw himself upon them, and 
 as if by magic three of the astounded soldiers were 
 lying upon the ground. Then the light went out and 
 Geegee knew that the missionary had joined in. For 
 a space pandemonium reigned, and amid the din the 
 little man's voice cried: "Clear out, George! we'll 
 be after you directly." 
 
 But Geegee had no intention of running away now. 
 His place was beside his comrades, and there he in- 
 tended to stay. He sprang into the struggling mass 
 and feeling for a pigtail yanked its owner back with 
 him, tripping him, and sending him sprawling over 
 some other prostrate fellow countryman. The struggle 
 was short but its end never was in doubt. The soldiers 
 
Into the Forbidden Land 169 
 
 were at a disadvantage in not knowing their op- 
 ponents, their numbers, nor methods of fighting, and 
 the tent was too small. Suddenly the missionary 
 called out: "Get outside, boys! I'm letting the tent 
 down." Geegee gave a final wrench at someone's 
 appendage and sprang outside, and as he did so the 
 tent collapsed in a heap over the wriggling mass of 
 humanity half-smothered in its folds. "Run now!" 
 cried the missionary, "they'll be round us like a nest 
 of hornets in no time. Ah, here comes another mob!" 
 
 "And that is Mac they are dragging with them," 
 cried Geegee. ' ' We must get him away " 
 
 "That's easy," grunted the little man. "You two 
 run over to that big tent beside the nearest fire, and 
 take him away with you when he is left alone. Don't 
 stand here. Go ! " 
 
 The little man's manner was too emphatic to admit 
 of any argument, so they went, and gained the shel- 
 tering shadows behind the large tent, just as Mac was 
 thrown head first in through the doorway. At that 
 moment a loud series of commands burst out on the 
 night air in a strange sort of Chinese dialect, and 
 at the same time the shouts of the imprisoned war- 
 riors began to draw the attention of their comrades 
 who had gone after the Shoka. 
 
 At the words of command they halted and looked 
 surprisedly at each other; then, as another string 
 of liquid -like sounds came out of the darkness in 
 a voice they apparently knew well, they turned and 
 ran in the direction whence the commands came, 
 leaving only two men with their prisoners. And 
 those two men were promptly rendered senseless by 
 the missionary and Geegee, before their comrades 
 had gone many steps. The tent was dark and they 
 never saw who attacked them. 
 
170 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 "Come, Mac, the road is clear," cried Geegee. 
 Without a word Mac rose and followed. 
 
 "I've heard the voice of the officer commanding 
 before," he remarked, pausing for a moment outside 
 the tent to listen to the orders still being hurled forth. 
 
 "Yes," said the missionary, "he is your comrade 
 Lyndhurst, and he is mimicking the voice of the 
 fellow George went for in another tent. He wouldn't 
 speak at sea, but I've since found out that he can talk 
 for a dozen when there is need." 
 
 "Where are the others?" cried Mac. "I know 
 your voice, and I can see something has gone wrong. 
 Tell me before I stir from here." 
 
 He seized a long- barrelled gun lying at the tent 
 door and appeared determined to go after the soldiers 
 again. 
 
 "The others got through, Mac," cried George, 
 "and here comes Mr. Lyndhurst too." 
 
 "Come on, boys," cried that gentleman, running 
 up. "We've got to be in a healthier spot than this 
 before stopping." 
 
 And so it seemed, for already the soldiers had 
 discovered that something was wrong. 
 
 Into the night, down the long slope on the other 
 side of the pass, they sped. They were now in 
 Tibet. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 The Fight in the Red Monastery 
 
 " Well, comrades, it is good to be near a fire again 
 and away from that eternal snow of the higher alti- 
 tudes." The speaker was the Lama. With his com- 
 rades he sat round a blazing log fire and drank hot 
 coffee. 
 
 " I guess it would be better if we were a hundred 
 miles farther away from that Chinese camp we passed 
 through," observed G. W., "but it was a blamed 
 good idea that of yours to steal all their stacked guns 
 as we went through. If we hadn't done that I suppose 
 we should be pretty well peppered with old nails, 
 buttons, bits of glass, and other things the people of 
 these parts use as shot, by this time." 
 
 " I should like to know the story of how the mis- 
 sionary and C.H.J, came to be in that camp," put in 
 Cash Bags. " We have told all our experiences, and 
 I'm sure I'll not be able to sleep until I know theirs." 
 
 "Our story is easily told," said the missionary. 
 ' ' Evidently our movements have been followed for 
 some time past, and apparently the people of this 
 country think they have good reason to fear us. 
 Anyhow, they knew that some white men were 
 coming into this country, although how they got 
 their information I don't know. When our caravan 
 
 171 
 
172 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 reached the Tibetan station at the head of the Darma 
 Pass we were taken before the officer commanding. 
 He scrutinized us all, and put us through a stiff 
 examination in the Shoka tongue as to who we were, 
 where we were going, and our object. After being 
 satisfied, apparently, he ordered all our companions 
 to pass on, and, without giving us any warning of 
 his intentions, he bade his men seize us and scrub our 
 faces with some fluid that might have been nitric acid, 
 it stung so much. Well, you see the result. We 
 were transformed into white men, and the soldiers 
 laughed uproariously when they saw the result of 
 their work. I tell you Cyrus Higgins's process can- 
 not be much worse. However, after talking things 
 over with another officer whose position I couldn't 
 determine, he seemed to conclude that we were only 
 part of a larger force coming into the country, and 
 sent us as prisoners with this strange officer and some 
 men away up the mountains to some other pass. Pro- 
 bably he guessed, or had information, that you would 
 come through that way. But I knew no more — I had 
 fallen asleep — until I woke up and saw the Mandarin, 
 or whatever he was, going through our clothes. He 
 spoke to me in several languages, including English 
 and French, asking me to tell him about some sacred 
 stone, but I did not answer, and just then I saw a 
 Shoka carrier with his load on his back bound into 
 the tent and half - strangle the fellow. This was 
 George, or Geegee, as I learn his name has now 
 become, and you know all the rest." 
 
 "Yes, we are in a valley formed by some river 
 unknown to geographers about ten miles from the 
 pass we crossed, and about six miles from Darma," 
 the Lama said. "This valley will lead us out in the 
 direction we mean to go, that is north, until we cross 
 
Fight in the Red Monastery 173 
 
 the Tsangpo or Brahmaputra river; thence as we may 
 decide. But what about our caravan?" 
 
 "It is all right," said C.H.J., for such was the 
 designation applied to the little man. "The native 
 leader knows his business, and won't stop going until 
 he hits the Brahmaputra. He knows he has rifles in 
 sections among his packs, and guesses his employers 
 don't want their stuff examined. Nor does he care 
 a hang for the loss of his two men taken by 
 the Chinese; they weren't much use to him any- 
 way." 
 
 "So we are actually all through the lines and in 
 the forbidden land," the Lama remarked. "And 
 thanks chiefly to Geegee and Mac " 
 
 "To Geegee if you like, Lama," interrupted Mac. 
 " I am no hero, and I did nothing special." 
 
 " Look here, Cash Bags," said G. W. " You and 
 I seem to be the ornaments in this party. We never 
 do anything to get the limelight played on us, and it 
 isn't our fault. Now, what do you say to joining me 
 in an adventure of our own?" 
 
 ' ' There has been no need for the display of your 
 sterling qualities as yet," the Lama said diplomati- 
 cally. "But the time is coming rapidly now when 
 you will get the chance of having your head sliced 
 off, or your body stretched on a Chinese torture 
 rack, or almost any other form of glory you may 
 desire." 
 
 "Thanks, you have mentioned two kinds of glory 
 that I'm not hankering after just now. I suppose 
 we can get along with horses, seeing we are in the 
 country and safely over the pass?" 
 
 "Yes," grinned Mac, "but we've first to find the 
 horses. We may be able to buy some at the first 
 nomadic encampment we strike, but ten to one there 
 
174 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 will be a lama in it who will want to know why we 
 haven't already got steeds, and how we came over the 
 pass without them." 
 
 " But horses couldn't come over where we came, 
 Mac." 
 
 " Which shows that we used a pass leading into 
 Tibet much steeper than the regular road — the Darma 
 La. Now, why did we do this? Was it for exercise, 
 or fun, or to evade the customs?" 
 
 "I tumble, Mac," G. W. laughed guilelessly. "I 
 suppose the guards at Darma have horses?" 
 
 " The finest horses in the world, and they are about 
 the best horsemen too," spoke C.H.J. 
 
 "Ah, well, boys," yawned G.W. sleepily, " if the 
 company has no objection I'll turn in." 
 
 The company had none, and soon all were stretched 
 at full length round the fire, apparently tired out with 
 their climb over the Himalayas. 
 
 But Geegee could not sleep, the events of the day 
 came crowding back upon his mind, and the know- 
 ledge that at least one of the mysterious men whom 
 he had supposed were in London seeking for Mr. 
 Deverell's son was actually in Tibet, and not many 
 miles from him at the moment, gave him much food 
 for reflection. Who were they? And where was 
 Tom Deverell? They must have got on the expedi- 
 tion's tracks after all, and must know its members, 
 else why had they stopped the trading caravan and 
 taken such rough measures to find out if any of its 
 men had white skins? Clearly, too, they were on the 
 hunt for his moonstone, the missionary's words had 
 put that fact beyond doubt. He had already told the 
 Lama about his experiences before leaving London, 
 and that individual had at once agreed with him that 
 somehow or other their enemies had gained informa- 
 
Fight in the Red Monastery 175 
 
 tion of their movements and plans, and meant to 
 thwart them at any cost. 
 
 At length he dropped into a light sleep, but his 
 subconscious mind still struggled with conflicting 
 ideas. He sat up suddenly, the Lama had called 
 him gently by name, and was standing beside him. 
 Around him were the forms of his sleeping comrades, 
 and Smith was snoring loudly. Overhead the stars, 
 seemingly much larger than he had ever seen them 
 before, glowed and sparkled in the great dome of the 
 heavens with a gorgeous splendour of which hitherto 
 his mind had had no conception. Sharp snow-clad, 
 glacier-crowned peaks met his view whichever way 
 he turned, and gorges innumerable seemed to open 
 out beneath him, dark, silent, and forbidding. 
 
 "Are you very tired, Geegee?" the Lama said in 
 low tones when he saw that the boy was awake. 
 
 " No, not in the slightest, sir. Why do you ask?" 
 
 "Would you care to come with me on a little 
 adventure? I need someone, and I think I would 
 prefer you." 
 
 "Certainly, sir," Geegee answered, rising at once 
 and shaking himself. " What are we going to do?" 
 
 ' ' Get some ponies from the Chinese soldiers on the 
 Darma Pass. It is essential that we should travel fast 
 if we wish to avoid our kind friends whom you have 
 seen before. The guards at Darma borrowed over 
 a dozen of my horses about a year ago without per- 
 mission, and I propose that we take them back to- 
 night, also without asking leave." 
 
 "Very well, I am ready. Shall I wake the others 
 and tell them?" 
 
 ' ' No, let them sleep ; two can do as well as a dozen, 
 and we will be the two ourselves." 
 
 Thus it happened that when the moon was high 
 
176 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 in the sky above the Himalayan summits, and the 
 intense cold of midnight had made the frontier 
 soldier watchmen roll themselves in their blankets 
 inside their tents, two figures crept up upon the little 
 stockade, in which a score or so of the hardy Tibetan 
 ponies were feeding contentedly, their bells tinkling 
 musically on the still crisp air. Deftly separating the 
 horses into two groups the Lama and Geegee opened 
 the stockade on one side and drove one division out, 
 previously having tied the tongue of the bell which 
 each horse wore round its neck. Then, replacing the 
 long bamboo rails as they had been before, they 
 broke down the erection on the opposite side, and 
 drove the other group of horses forth, their bells not 
 being tied. 
 
 "Come away now, Geegee," the Lama whispered. 
 " They'll wake up presently and go out after those 
 bells; meanwhile we'll drive our lot over the hard 
 ground where no track will be left, and the Chinese 
 may never know what had become of them. Hullo ! " 
 
 A man rose silently from the ground and grappled 
 with the Lama, and at the same instant Geegee's legs 
 were caught from behind, and he was precipitated 
 upon a patch of snow. But he was on his feet again 
 before his antagonist could follow up his advantage, 
 and next moment a desperate silent struggle was pro- 
 ceeding between them ; the Lama and his attacker 
 also striving in silence for the mastery. 
 
 Suddenly the voice of one of the combatants spoke : 
 "Blow it all, Cash Bags," it said, "my fellow 
 hasn't got a pigtail!" 
 
 " Nor mine," answered Geegee, laughing and 
 wriggling free from his opponent's grasp. "I've 
 been feeling for it all the time." 
 
 "Great howling Hudson, Mississippi — Amazon 
 
Fight in the Red Monastery 177 
 
 and Nile and Brahmaputra! What have we struck, 
 Cash Bags?" exclaimed the first voice, as its owner 
 jumped clear of his adversary. "May I be fried 
 into a Chinky if I haven't collared the Lama." 
 
 "And the real pigtails will have us all directly," 
 said the Lama. " I see lights moving among the 
 tents now. What do you want here, G.W.?" 
 
 "Horses, boss. I don't see any points in walking 
 if we can ride." 
 
 "Then drive those down there back to camp. 
 Catch one for each, and we'll ride bareback." 
 
 " No fear, Lama, when these Chinamen go after 
 their belled horses we'll rush their camp and steal 
 saddles and bridles." 
 
 "You'll steal nothing, G.W. ; we're not thieves." 
 
 " Oh! and horse stealing isn't thieving?" 
 
 "Not in this case. I am only taking back my 
 own." 
 
 "But, puncture me, Lama, I want to see one of 
 these fellows Geegee told us of, who can be every- 
 where in the world at the same time, and who know 
 everything. I would like to catch one." 
 
 "No, come away with us now. These men are 
 trained in all the sciences the western world knows, 
 and in some it doesn't know. We are no match for 
 them. There are horse saddles packed in our yak 
 caravan, and we can overtake it soon after daylight 
 if we pick up its tracks. Don't stand here longer. 
 See, the Chinese are coming." 
 
 "All right, Just So Lama. We'll come, but I 
 reckon it isn't fair that Cash Bags and I don't get 
 a show to do something. I guess we'll go on strike 
 some day." 
 
 G. W. was aggrieved, but, as the situation was 
 becoming highly dangerous, he was compelled to 
 
 (09) , 12 
 
178 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 submit to the inevitable and go back with the others. 
 Catching some of the horses, they mounted them 
 bareback, and drove the others in front of them. Cash 
 Bags had never been on a horse previously, but 
 G. W. rode near him and instructed him in the art 
 of using a handkerchief as a bridle. He could not 
 teach him on short notice how to retain his seat, how- 
 ever, and poor Cash Bags had a very bad time indeed 
 before they reached camp. It was lucky that the 
 Tibetan ponies are small, so he had not far to 
 fall. 
 
 Meanwhile the Chinese soldiers were searching the 
 countryside, in the opposite direction, for the rest of 
 their steeds. 
 
 Long before daylight filled the dark valleys the 
 approaching sun's rays lit up the tops of the great 
 peaks, bathing their white upper slopes in a flood of 
 golden and crimson fires, but, as soon as the sun had 
 risen far enough to diffuse its welcome light through 
 the gorges, the party was on the move. Carefully 
 picking a track, the Lama led his horse down into the 
 bed of the ravine, and the others followed in single 
 file. Once down, progress was more rapid, for the 
 ponies were surefooted, and in the afternoon the dry 
 river course they were following opened out into a 
 great plain, which stretched northwards and on either 
 hand at a gentle falling slope as far as they could see. 
 Through the middle of this stretch of country a large 
 river wound its way, its waters glistening like silver 
 in the morning sun, and at a point N.N.W. from 
 where they stood a blurred outline of another huge 
 mountain seemed to rise into the skies, the river ap- 
 parently having its sources somewhere in its vicinity. 
 
 "The Brahmaputra," cried the missionary, gazing 
 at the sinuous silver streak in rapturous emotion. 
 
Fight in the Red Monastery 179 
 
 " Little did I think I should ever behold its upper 
 reaches behind the world's greatest barrier." 
 
 "Go slow there, Wun Lung," Mac interrupted 
 with a grin. "I'm sorry to have to correct you, but 
 in my opinion that is the Sutlej you are looking at. 
 We are just about the middle of the north-running 
 dividing range now, and I expect that blurred moun- 
 tain beyond the plain is the continuation " 
 
 " But what has that to do with the Brahmaputra, 
 Mac?" asked Wun Lung, for so the missionary had 
 been called on account of his Chinese experience; it 
 being also agreed that he should wear a pigtail when 
 they came into inhabited country. 
 
 "Because I think that river is flowing west; it 
 couldn't rise away down in those flats on our left 
 and flow up over this divide, you know." 
 
 " But no more could that water we see far on our 
 right rise over the slope of this ridge," said Wun 
 Lung. "There must be a cutting through which 
 the river finds passage " 
 
 "Wun Lung, let me give you some information," 
 broke in Mac. "That water you see in front of us 
 winding away to the west is the Sutlej, but that which 
 you can just see on our extreme right is the Brahma- 
 putra. They are both flowing in different directions, 
 and they have their sources somewhere in that peak 
 ahead. Anyway, between them they surround India 
 and the entire Himalayan range, but exactly where 
 they, rise no white man has ever seen." 
 
 " Yes, Mac, I have seen the spot where " 
 
 "I said no white man," interrupted Mac, looking 
 at the Lama curiously. 
 
 ' ' Never mind ! " cried G. W. " Tell us about them 
 if there is anything worth telling." 
 
 "That distant peak, the existence of which has 
 
180 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 been so long doubted, sends out a spur which sepa- 
 rates the sacred twin lakes of Manasarawar from each 
 other. They lie at the base on either side, and we 
 will see them when the sun climbs high enough to 
 throw its rays over them. Until recently it was sup- 
 posed that these lakes fed both these mighty rivers, 
 but we now know that this is not so ; in fact, I am of 
 opinion that each of these lakes is a backwater of the 
 Sutlej and Brahmaputra respectively, for they lie at 
 a considerably lower altitude than the rivers, and 
 most probably have connection with them. But we 
 have not come here to discuss vexed geographical 
 
 questions " The Lama ceased abruptly, and for 
 
 a time the party rode in silence. 
 
 But Geegee was always eager to acquire know- 
 ledge, and after a bit he rode alongside the Lama and 
 said: "I should like very much to be told of some 
 of your discoveries, sir; I am fond of geography 
 and " 
 
 "And you are getting practical lessons on it now, 
 Geegee," the Lama interrupted. "See, there are the 
 mystic twin lakes now, so famous in Hindu mytho- 
 logy. And here let me point out to you how ex- 
 plorers often make mistakes, and how bitter questions 
 can arise from their different observations. Some 
 explorers have seen those two streaks of water flow- 
 ing east and west from that hazy mist far ahead, and 
 have at once assumed that they sprang from some 
 common source in the mountain. Like us, some 
 time ago, they saw no lakes because the sun was 
 not high enough to shine into them. But another 
 explorer comes along and sees the lakes and the two 
 rivers as we see them now, and it is then quite clear 
 to him that the rivers must issue from the lakes, and 
 accordingly his account goes out into the world. But 
 
Fight in the Red Monastery 181 
 
 yet another stands where we are now, let us say, and 
 he sees only one large lake and no rivers, because a 
 cloud of mist has settled down over that separating 
 mountain spur, to hide the sport of the spirits, the 
 Hindus say, and the rivers being really beyond the 
 lakes — at least their sources are — he reports that all 
 the others have been romancing and gives his story. 
 Naturally, people who are interested don't know what 
 to believe, and the district is marked on the map as 
 unknown. Now if any of these explorers had fol- 
 lowed these rivers, they would have found that they 
 led round those lakes to that towering peak beyond, 
 to that elysium, or Siva's paradise of ancient Sanscrit 
 literature, the Kailas mountain. That sacred peak 
 seems to me yet to be well worthy of systematic explo- 
 ration, for around its base and on its slopes was, in 
 my opinion, the cradle of man. The lordly Indus 
 rises on its northern slope, the impetuous Sutlej on 
 its western, the mysterious Karnali, chief tributary 
 of the Ganges, springs from a glacier which straddles 
 a projecting south-running spur, and I myself have 
 traced a stream which issued from a cave on its 
 eastern side, which grew with other glacier-fed streams, 
 until it formed what we now know as the Brahma- 
 putra " 
 
 " Another word, Just So, and I'll fall off my horse," 
 cried G.W. "I can see you. want to make us all 
 Buddhists, or Brahmins, or Chinamen like yourself; 
 but I absolutely refuse to be anything but a New 
 Yorker, and I'm speaking for Cash Bags too " 
 
 "I'm a tee-totaller," said Cash Bags simply, 
 and all laughed, much to the temperate one's sur- 
 prise. 
 
 " But where is the Karnali River?" asked Wun 
 Lung. "We should be near it now." 
 
1 82 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 "You are within a mile of it. Don't you hear the 
 roar of its torrent?" the Lama answered. 
 
 " A mile? I can't see it anywhere, and the country 
 is open for, I am sure, sixty." 
 
 "Eighty miles lies between us and those lakes, to 
 be as exact as I can. Nevertheless, if you ride to 
 your right for the distance I have said, you'll find 
 the Karnali." 
 
 Wun Lung looked incredulous. He could see 
 as far to the right or east, as he could north or 
 west. 
 
 " I should explain, perhaps," the Lama went on, 
 "that this plain is not exactly one stretch of un- 
 broken ground. It is cut up by hundreds of gorges, 
 although you don't see them. This must have been 
 an enormous inland sea, or perhaps one huge glacier 
 sloping to the Manasarawar basin in ancient times, 
 and when it disappeared the ground was rent in 
 chasms which even extend through the Himalayas." 
 
 "But surely, Lama," persisted Wun Lung, "no 
 river at the bottom of any such cleft, as you have said 
 exists here, could possibly flow through the Hima- 
 layas. We have been descending since crossing the 
 pass last night." 
 
 "Yes, but we have not yet got down to the level 
 of any of the river gorges, which cut through the 
 world's greatest mountain chain. Had we come over 
 by the famous Shipki Pass, we should not have re- 
 quired to climb even as high as we are just now, but 
 we would have seen and heard the turbulent torrent 
 at the bottom of its gorge, in some places two miles 
 sheer beneath us." 
 
 " Oh, Lama, to think you're let loose on a suffering 
 world without a bell," wailed G.W. " I know mine 
 has gone out of action for want of use, and I see no 
 
Fight in the Red Monastery 183 
 
 hope of my ever being able to get a ring out of it 
 while you are here." 
 
 "Cheer up!" consoled Mac. "Remember truth 
 is often stranger than fiction, but not always, and 
 you are bound to get a chance once we get away 
 from the region of big things we're in now." 
 
 "That is a fine specimen of lettering on that rock 
 there, Mac," said the Lama, throwing a sign to the 
 Scot which the latter well understood. 
 
 "Ay, it's no' bad for size," Mac agreed, turning 
 with the others to view a series of symbols carved out 
 in the solid face of a rock they had passed. The 
 signs represented the prayer formula: " Om Mani 
 Padmi Hum ", and were about three feet in height. 
 " I've seen bigger letters than that, though," the 
 Scot went on, "and no' in this country. It was 
 some soap advertisement, if I mind right, but the 
 letters were bigger than a man." He looked at 
 G. W. casually as he spoke, and the American 
 snorted. 
 
 "Call them big letters?" he said, indicating the 
 prayer formula. " I guess you innocents never saw 
 New York, or you wouldn't say that. Why, we've 
 got some adverts on skyscrapers there that these 
 wouldn't be big enough for commas and semicolons 
 for them." 
 
 "Oh, that's nothing," the Lama said. "Look 
 over there now." He pointed back to the crest ot 
 an isolated peak they had left behind, and sure 
 enough, the formula was cut out high up upon its 
 face in letters which must have been twenty feet in 
 height. 
 
 G.W. looked at them critically and then gave them 
 another scrutiny through Mac's field glasses. " I 
 guess they're big enough for a visiting card," he 
 
184 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 finally remarked, "but in New York we often build 
 houses inside letters ; they're artistic, ornamental, 
 and useful, you see; for a man can own a whole 
 street of these letter houses, and each house be help- 
 ing to spell out the thing he advertises." 
 
 " That is all one has any right to expect in America 
 in the way of size," the Lama commented casually, 
 ' ' but near Lhasa they have cut out entire mountains 
 to form letters in that prayer. Of course you always 
 begin at the left and ride round the different letters 
 separately; with plenty of horses you can go round 
 them all in a month." 
 
 G.W. looked at the Lama. " I guess that's pretty 
 tall," he said reproachfully. 
 
 "No, not very," was the answer. "They were 
 really less in height than they were round about, but 
 you can't ride that way." 
 
 "Go on, G.W., don't despair!" cried Mac. "I'm 
 pretty sure America can beat that." 
 
 "Who said I was despairing?" said G.W. "I 
 was just going easy, so as not to give you too big 
 a drop at once. Now I can remember; the last time 
 I was home there was a scheme got up to celebrate 
 Independence Day by printing the letters 'America' 
 across the sky. Well, we got a lantern slide made, 
 and made a coal mine into a sort of lantern, then 
 we turned Niagara Falls on to drive a dynamo to 
 
 give us enough electric light " G. W. paused 
 
 and shook his head; there was something that did 
 not please him entirely lingering in his memory. 
 
 "Well, what happened?" asked C.H.J. "Was 
 the light not strong enough to carry the distance, 
 or was the coal mine leaking at the bottom?" 
 
 "No — it was a complete failure. Everything was 
 all right but the sky, it wasn't big enough to hold 
 
Fight in the Red Monastery 185 
 
 more than one letter at a time, and then half of the 
 letter was upside down to us. We thought we could 
 stick up a letter a night till we had run the word 
 through, but next day a cablegram from the Ger- 
 man Emperor came, saying that, if we crowded out 
 the stars with an M, he would order his government 
 to put an export tax on German sausages and starve 
 us out, so we had to break up the slide and fill up 
 the Atlantic Ocean with the pieces " 
 
 "By Jupiter! I heard a bell distinctly," cried Gee- 
 gee excitedly. 
 
 " It wasn't mine, I'll swear," said G.W. " It's off 
 duty at present for oiling." 
 
 " I'll never say a word against the German Em- 
 peror again," said Cash Bags. "Supposing the 
 slide got jammed in the lantern, and the sun next 
 day shone down over the world, in streaks of light 
 and dark through a letter E ?" 
 
 " By gosh! I hear bells myself," cried G.W. 
 
 "Probably," C.H.J, observed. "Our caravan 
 must be somewhere about here. Look! there it is 
 just disappearing in one of these depressions a 
 couple of miles on our left. The track from Darma 
 and Shipki to Manasarawar joins near here, but it 
 is pretty well hidden in the bottom of these clefts 
 in the country." 
 
 " Let us join them, then," the Lama said. "They 
 may be able to give us some information, and we 
 can trust them, although I didnt't altogether intend 
 that they should know we were not genuine Shokas." 
 
 It was the mixed goat and yak caravan right 
 enough whose bells they had heard; it was travel- 
 ling much faster than was usual with mixed pack 
 animals, but they overtook it in half an hour's ride. 
 The men seemed to be surprised that the riders 
 
1 86 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 were not Chinese or a Tibetan foraging party, 
 but Geegee could see that they were ready for all 
 emergencies, that each man had concealed beneath 
 his sheepskin coat the latest form of carbine, and 
 that the innocent wonderment expressed in their 
 faces was by no means indicative of their real feel- 
 ings. But they at once recognized the Lama, and 
 burst into laughter. 
 
 "We thought you were the Tibetans," said one 
 in his native dialect, "and we were going to fight. 
 Two of our men were sahibs and were stopped at 
 the frontier. You did not tell us to fight for them, 
 so we came on with all speed." 
 
 "You were quite right, Nana Sing," the Lama 
 answered ; ' ' but the sahibs escaped. See, here they 
 are! They are going with us to Manasarawar and 
 the Kailas peak." 
 
 "Yes," laughed C.H.J. "You didn't dream, 
 friend Nana Sing, that I was a sahib when you 
 broke your cane over my back for making some 
 mistakes coming up the pass; but don't worry, old 
 man, it really was a compliment, and my back is 
 used to more than cane strokes." 
 
 He spoke in the Shoka tongue as easily and as 
 naturally as did the native himself. Of course the 
 missionary and he had assumed their adopted com- 
 plexions again; only the former's was now a dirty 
 yellow and his eyebrows were slanted, while a pig- 
 tail also graced his back. He was a Chinese .lama 
 on pilgrimage, and had joined the present party for 
 protection. 
 
 "How many sahibs in the party, sir?" the leading 
 Shoka asked. "Is it good that we should know?" 
 
 He spoke in English and G.W. at once answered: 
 "Only two, old man — Cash Bags and yours truly, 
 
Fight in the Red Monastery 187 
 
 and that's because we don't know your lingo, or we 
 would be blamed good niggers too." 
 
 The Shoka grinned and spoke rapidly to his com- 
 rades, who also appeared to be amused. All this time 
 the caravan was moving on, but in time the Lama 
 ordered a halt to re-arrange the packs. They were in 
 one of these strange valleys when this order was given, 
 and on the rock faces, wherever a possible situation 
 offered itself, the ubiquitous ' ' Om Mani Padmi 
 Hum" showed itself cut out in giant letters. It 
 needed not to be told to anyone that they were now 
 on one of the main pilgrim tracks leading from 
 India to Lhasa, and possibly thence to Peking. 
 
 " There is a monastery of red lamas built in that 
 rock face somewhere," the Lama said, "but I don't 
 think we'll trouble to call." He spoke to Geegee 
 and Cash Bags. 
 
 " Are these lamas really able to work wonders?" 
 Cash Bags asked. He wished to show that he took 
 an intelligent interest in his surroundings. 
 
 " Well, I shouldn't like to say that they can perform 
 what is against the laws of nature," the Lama answered 
 thoughtfully, "but they are certainly skilled in sciences 
 of which Europeans know but little. Not all of them, 
 of course, for there are sects and secret societies even 
 among themselves. One of those mystical bands are 
 called 'Mahatmas', and they have made a study of the 
 occult sciences, such as hypnotism and clairvoyance. 
 Some even claim to be theosophists ; but, while ad- 
 mitting that some of the lamas are highly gifted 
 men, I doubt very much many of the stories of their 
 wonderful powers. They say, you know, that the 
 Dalai Lama and certain other high lamas are actu- 
 ally re-incarnations of Buddha and his disciples, 
 and, therefore, must know all things; but I fancy the 
 
188 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 Chinese amban and other officials, who control affairs 
 in the Dalai Lama's name, could tell even stranger 
 stories." 
 
 " But do they govern the actions of the great Dalai 
 Lama?" asked Geegee in surprise. "I thought he 
 was supreme." 
 
 "He is when he reaches the age of twenty-one; 
 until then the Chinese agent acts as regent. It is 
 a curious fact, however, that a Dalai Lama seldom, if 
 ever, reaches the age of twenty-one. Unfortunately 
 for his country he has the habit of dying at about 
 eighteen, and being re-incarnated again in the shape 
 of the most handsome and promising infant recently 
 born. Thus the Chinese regent always rules, and, 
 until the eye of the idol is replaced, will, I have no 
 doubt — unless Russia seizes the country — continue 
 to rule " 
 
 "Are you at it again, Just So?" cried G. W., 
 coming up to the three. "We've got all the packs 
 re-incarnated — I mean re-arranged — and we are ready 
 for the track again." 
 
 " Have you all got saddles, bridles, and rifles now, 
 and sufficient provisions to last a week?" 
 
 "You bet we have. A Tibetan pony's backbone 
 is too sharp for my comfort, bareback riding; and 
 I know Cash Bags won't want to sit down for a 
 
 week But, jumping snakes! what's that coming 
 
 up in front?" 
 
 But the Shokas had also seen the cause of G.W.'s 
 enquiry, and were running about wildly, gathering 
 their animals together, calling out meanwhile to each 
 other words, which Geegee gathered meant that a 
 sandstorm was approaching, and that soon the day 
 would be as dark as night. 
 
 "Get in to the side of the rocks, boys!" the Lama 
 
Fight in the Red Monastery 189 
 
 cried. "The Shokas will attend to the caravan. 
 This storm means we are stuck here all day. It has 
 come south from the sandy plains of the Tarim basin, 
 and won't stop until it reaches the top of the Hima- 
 layas; if we had met it higher up, we should most 
 likely have perished in the intense cold of the wind, 
 after it drops the sand and picks up snow and 
 ice." 
 
 "By the old apple tree! I'll allow you can raise 
 more wonders per acre in this blamed country than 
 we can in America," gasped G. W. "Whoever 
 heard of a sandstorm where there is no sand?" He 
 ran off to secure the horses and lead them to the 
 shelter of the rocks, while every man ran to assist in 
 building a barricade of stones to enclose and pro- 
 tect the goats and yaks and their loads. The storm 
 was now close at hand, and Geegee gazed at it with 
 feelings of awe. It was simply a wall of blackness 
 rushing towards them at perhaps sixty miles an hour. 
 Stones and debris of all kinds flew towards its base, 
 under its suction influence as it approached, and 
 then were caught up in its vortex and swirled along 
 in the wall. The top seemed to be travelling faster 
 than the base, and a crown of yellow fleecy clouds 
 surmounted all. At first a low moaning sound had 
 been the only evidence to the ears of anything un- 
 usual coming near, but swiftly this swelled into a 
 thunderous roar, culminating in a wild discordant 
 shriek of demoniacal fury, as the wave broke over 
 them. Then the light of day went out, the noise 
 faded away, leaving only the sound of rushing wind. 
 The men lay flat on the ground behind their ram- 
 part, and G. W., with some trouble, lit his pipe. 
 Cash Bags began to eat a piece of extremely sticky 
 candy which one of the Shokas had given him. He 
 
i go Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 had heard so much of Tibet, its natural wonders, 
 and the marvellous powers of the lamas, that he 
 ceased to be surprised at anything. C. H. J., the 
 Lama, and Mac were near, and therefore all was well. 
 At length he fell asleep, and the sandstorm, or black 
 tempest as a Shoka had named the wind, to show 
 his knowledge of English, passed over and around 
 him, but ceased to trouble him. 
 
 "This darkness will last, even if the storm passes, 
 until nightfall," the Lama cried. "We had better 
 try to sleep to make up for last night's loss. Per- 
 haps we may be able to go on during the night by 
 moonlight." 
 
 His voice sounded far off to Geegee: there was 
 something seductive in the song of the sand-laden 
 wind; he was very comfortable, and — and he slept. 
 The hours passed on and the storm abated, but 
 the intense darkness remained. Geegee was dream- 
 ing of Dalai Lamas, of Chinese regents, and of a 
 wonderful scheme by which the prayer, " Om Mani 
 Padmi Hum ", could be projected on to the skies by 
 a system of mirrors. Then his dreams grew fuller 
 in detail, and he saw some Chinese officials in a 
 great palace, and overheard their conversation. It 
 was in English, of course; for dream people can talk 
 any language. "The Dalai Lama will be twenty- 
 one to-morrow," one gorgeously dressed pig-tailed 
 person was saying. "Is the death chamber pre- 
 pared?" 
 
 " It is," another replied. "He wouldn't have lived 
 so near to attaining his majority, had we been able 
 to find a suitable child in whom he was to be re- 
 incarnated. We have now got one, however, with 
 all the qualifications as to lightness of colour, fine- 
 ness of features, and intelligence of expression, and 
 
Fight in the Red Monastery 191 
 
 we can now proceed to kill the present Dalai Lama 
 as usual. To-morrow he will be re-incarnated." 
 
 The men laughed and passed into an adjoining 
 room, and next moment a terrible scream issued 
 therefrom. The scene faded like a dissolving view 
 on a lantern screen, and a large, lavishly appointed 
 room took its place. A golden throne, set with 
 priceless rubies, occupied the far end, and in the 
 forehead of an idol near gleamed one large white 
 stone. A burst of sweet music filled the air, a door 
 opened, and a long procession of yellow-robed mitre- 
 crowned men entered. From their ranks there stepped 
 out a man, even more imposingly garbed than the 
 others. He was a Chinaman, haughty and proud 
 in the knowledge of the long line of his Imperial 
 ancestors. He pointed to the empty throne and 
 cried: "The Dalai Lama is dead. Behold the new 
 Dalai Lama!" 
 
 "The Dalai Lama never dies," someone responded. 
 "He is an Avatar, and for ever his spirit will abide 
 in his beloved Lhasa. Even now he seeks for ad- 
 mission." 
 
 "As Regent for the Light of the World, and the 
 Amban of the Emperor of China and of the Uni- 
 verse, by whose permission the sun shines, by whose 
 might the world has been conquered, and by whose 
 grace I now am here, I proclaim the body of the 
 first mortal who sits upon that throne to be the re- 
 incarnated form of the All Wise King, Shrong-tsan- 
 gumpo." The Chinaman's voice rang loud and 
 clear. All eyes were turned towards the vacant 
 throne and a subdued chorus of " Om Mani Padmi 
 Hum" filled the room as, with bowed heads, the 
 lamas awaited the advent of their blessed chief. 
 
 Suddenly a blinding flash of light shot through 
 
rgz Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 the apartment, and when the watchers had recovered 
 their sight the throne was filled. Then arose a 
 terrible commotion; the Chinese regent rushed for- 
 ward. "This is not he," he cried. "This is a 
 trick." A crowd of lamas barred his way in silence, 
 all pointing to the one-eyed idol. The regent gave 
 one look at the idol and uttered a shriek of dismay. 
 Firmly and decisively the lamas gathered round him 
 and pushed him from the room. Geegee looked at 
 the idol in amazement. "Why, that is my moon- 
 stone!" he cried. "I must be mesmerized." 
 
 " Behold the glory of the eternal Dalai Lama! Om 
 Mani Padmi Hum" sang the lamas in chorus. 
 
 Geegee turned his gaze on the throne's occupant. 
 It was himself. With a loud cry he sprang forward 
 and — awoke. 
 
 " Dear me, what a dream!" he exclaimed. " I am 
 soaking with perspiration. Who would be a Dalai 
 Lama?" 
 
 The Lama was sitting beside him. "You've been 
 dreaming?" he said. "You are not awake yet. 
 Come with me." 
 
 "By Jupiter! I can't be awake yet. I feel half 
 silly. Whatever is the matter with me?" 
 
 "Come, I am waiting." The Lama's tones were 
 certainly strange. He had never spoken to Geegee 
 so abruptly as he was now doing. The lad rose 
 without another word and followed the Lama, care- 
 fully stepping over his still sleeping comrades. The 
 storm had passed, and the stars were shining brightly 
 in a cloudless sky. Far away, it seemed, the tower- 
 ing peaks that flanked the mountain passes rose 
 shimmeringly into the vast dome. Beyond them 
 lay the fertile plains of India and a civilization which 
 did not tolerate the killing of priests or kings, even 
 
Fight in the Red Monastery 193 
 
 although many of the dwellers in the land believed 
 in the doctrine of re-incarnation. Over the frowning 
 buttressed barriers lay the enlightened new world, 
 part of the British Empire ; but the ground on which 
 he stood was swathed in the hoary mists of a world 
 that was past. It was the mystic home of spirits, 
 good and evil, and its human inhabitants having for 
 countless ages been free from the very prosaical in- 
 fluences of the modern world, had developed a civi- 
 lization of their own, a civilization that made its 
 people all priests or toilers. The one class had at 
 its command many of nature's hidden forces, for they 
 had probed deeply into her secrets, and the other 
 class lived only to toil, so that the first might have 
 leisure to search still deeper. How strange it all was, 
 and with what startling suddenness Dalai Lamas, 
 Chinese ambans, sacred stones, and a knowledge of 
 much of which he had been ignorant, had been forced 
 upon him! And where was he going now? How 
 queer his head felt, and why could he not feel quite 
 awake? 
 
 The Lama had by this time led him along the 
 rock face for about two hundred yards, but now he 
 stopped, and, pushing a large boulder aside which 
 certainly moved easily, he stooped and entered a 
 hole in the rocks which the boulder had hidden, 
 signing to Geegee to follow him. He now procured 
 a torch from some recess, and, lighting it, a long 
 flight of stairs was disclosed stretching upwards into 
 the gloom. The Lama began to mount the stairs, 
 and Geegee followed in bewilderment. Up and up 
 they ascended, circling round to all points of the 
 compass in doing so. But this was no common 
 winding stairway, the passage curved in long, grace- 
 ful sweeps, and all along the sides were inscriptions 
 
 (09) 13 
 
i94 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 and carved figures of Buddhas. The inscriptions 
 were invariably the oft-reiterated formula, which the 
 boy now knew so well, " Om Mani Padmi Hum". 
 
 At length the Lama pushed aside a large black 
 curtain woven of yak hair, which blocked farther 
 progress, and they were in a huge hall. Through 
 square-cut holes in the far wall Geegee could see the 
 stars shining, and he knew that' he was high up inside 
 the rocks in the monastery, which the Lama had told 
 him was in the vicinity. Forward the Lama led him 
 over the polished rocky floor, until suddenly a blaze 
 of light blinded him, and he knew he was standing 
 before an enormous image of Buddha. But he was 
 not alone; there were several men also present 
 dressed like the lamas of his dream, and they at 
 once formed a circle round him. Geegee had now 
 ceased to wonder at anything. " I am not dreaming 
 now, I know," he kept muttering to himself; " I sup- 
 pose I must be mesmerized. I'll be going through 
 the performance of killing a Dalai Lama myself soon, 
 I expect. How funny the people look! But what 
 was the Lama's object in coming here?" 
 
 "Do you know whele the sacled moonstone is?" 
 the Lama suddenly turned and said to him in a 
 voice distinctly Chinese. He was one of the circle 
 now. 
 
 "Yes," Geegee felt himself compelled to answer, 
 marvelling at the Lama's cleverness in disguising his 
 voice, but wondering what it all meant. 
 
 " Tell me whele it is?" the Lama went on. 
 
 " Why, you know yourself," cried the boy, looking 
 at him in surprise. "You told me to — but — but you 
 are not the Lama. Your face is nearly white. Who 
 are you? Ah, I know you, you are one of the men of 
 the motor car. Why, where am I? Oh, I wish I 
 
Fight in the Red Monastery 195 
 
 could wake up ! " He rubbed his eyes vigorously, but 
 he was as wideawake as ever he had been. 
 
 "You tell me whele the stone is?" reiterated the 
 man, now throwing off his long cloak, and standing 
 revealed as one of the two Orientals the lad had 
 followed in London. 
 
 " It is — it is " stammered the boy, struggling 
 
 within himself to withhold the information. 
 
 " Whele is it? Tell me. Who has it? Tell me." 
 The man's tones were commanding. Not one of the 
 heavily - cloaked figures around uttered a sound. 
 Doubtless they were ignorant of English. Geegee 
 felt his senses reeling, his head swam, and stars 
 danced before his eyes. What! tell where the stone 
 was? It was in his — No, he would not even think 
 where it was. Oh, if only he could cut out his 
 tongue. The tension was unbearable. His hands 
 moved to where the stone was concealed. 
 
 "Come, tell me," persisted the man, and then 
 relief came to Geegee. 
 
 "No! no! no!" he shouted. "A thousand times 
 no ! You'll never find the stone, and you can kill me 
 now." He was at last master of himself, and he 
 laughed outright as he realized the fact. He had 
 been hypnotized by some mysterious means known 
 only to the lamas, but he had conquered. The 
 feeling was glorious. 
 
 The speaker's voice changed. "Ah, you have 
 bloken away," he said coldly and quietly, yet with 
 deep menace in the steely utterance. "Now I will 
 tell you wha' will happen. You tell me whele to 
 find the stone, an' you go flee from this countly with 
 plenty muchy money. You no' tell me, an' we cuty 
 you up in little bits, but no' let you die till long time, . 
 an' give youl fingels an' toes an' little bits of you to 
 
196 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 the bilds that wait on mountain top to picky bones. 
 Now tell me." 
 
 The circle of silent men closed in. 
 
 "Then start your murdering by instalments now," 
 Geegee cried, withdrawing his hand from an inner 
 pocket, "but first take that." His revolver flashed 
 out, and point-blank in the man's face he fired. At 
 the same moment he sprang at him, and next instant 
 he had passed over his prostrate body. He ran to 
 where he imagined the curtain to be, but it had dis- 
 appeared, and nothing but solid rock rose before him. 
 And now the silent lamas were closing in upon him, 
 murderous - looking knives gleaming beneath their 
 long robes. Into their midst he emptied his tiny 
 weapon, but still they came on. Then suddenly a 
 pair of revolvers appeared in the hands of one of 
 them, and a voice called out a long sentence in 
 Chinese. Geegee waited for the end. It was better 
 to be shot than to be killed slowly. But to his un- 
 bounded amazement, one of the revolvers came hurt- 
 ling through the air towards him, and the thrower 
 called out: "Keep your back to the wall, Geegee, 
 and watch you don't hit me." 
 
 The man sprang from among the lamas as he 
 spoke, and, gaining the lad's side, turned and con- 
 fronted them again. It was Wun Lung. 
 
 "Now come on, you mob of fiends incarnate!" he 
 cried, and his weapon barked spitefully with his words. 
 For a moment the wave of red robes paused, and in 
 the lull a voice, which Geegee and the missionary 
 at once recognized, sounded out from somewhere. 
 "Hurry up, Cash Bags!" it said. "By "the Stars 
 and Stripes! we'll be in at the funeral anyway." 
 
 The lamas turned to see the newcomers, and one 
 ran back to the idol. G. W. and Cash Bags came 
 
GEEGEE FIRES AT THE AGENT 
 
Fight in the Red Monastery 197 
 
 running down the flooring. At the same moment 
 a crowd of Shokas burst in through the open spaces 
 serving for windows, and then pandemonium began. 
 Suddenly the wall against which Geegee was leaning 
 breathlessly parted, and he fell back into space. 
 Down, down, with lightning rapidity into the awful 
 gulf he shot, then a rush of icy cold water closed over 
 his head. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 Over the Brahmaputra 
 
 The fight in the monastery now waxed furious and 
 sanguinary, for the lamas of the red robes, Chinese, 
 Tibetan, Indian, and Tartar, however peaceably in- 
 clined when at their prayers or studies, had in them 
 all the fighter's instincts. Never could they submit 
 to the sacred floors of their monastery being trodden 
 by the bloodspiller, unless he were of themselves, and 
 carrying out some decree of all the lamas assembled 
 round the blessed shrine of Buddha. Their duty was 
 to avenge the insult, even if the sanctified floors were 
 covered knee-deep in blood by their so doing. The 
 Chinese Mandarin whom Geegee had shot down had 
 now regained his feet, his face bloody and terrible 
 to look upon, while his gorgeous silken robes were 
 also saturated with the crimson life fluid. With long 
 ferocious-looking knives in one hand, and prayer- 
 wheels in the other, the lamas rushed at the in- 
 truders, hurling at them in their various dialects the 
 curses, which their spiritual knowledge told them were 
 the most dreadful in effect. And the Shokas, six of 
 them, cursed back in language more emphatic still, 
 in words meaningless to them, but which they had 
 copied from their white fellow soldiers of the king, 
 and therefore knew must be most powerful. While 
 the knives were flashing, and the bodies of men were 
 
 193 
 
Over the Brahmaputra 199 
 
 being trampled under foot, G.W. fought his way over 
 to the hole in the wall, through which Geegee had 
 fallen, leaving Cash Bags to lead on the Shokas 
 alone. This Cash Bags did nobly. The Shokas 
 would fight so long as the sahib was there, and Sahib 
 Cash Bags was very much there. He was now a man, 
 full of pride of race and strength. He would never 
 sit behind a desk again. He had experienced the 
 exhilaration of being in a fight for life. It was he 
 or his opponent for it, and the gamble was irresistibly 
 fascinating. But he would not use his revolver. He 
 was a Briton, and his fists were good enough for 
 him. And they were. He rattled his blows on every 
 shaven head he saw, and the recipients went down 
 before him every time. They did not understand his 
 strange methods of fighting, and he was too close 
 to allow of their sword-knives being used to good 
 purpose. Often, however, a gleaming blade would 
 be raised above his head in the hand of some power- 
 ful lama, but the steel never descended as its wielder 
 intended. Every time a whip-like bark would ring 
 out from somewhere, a shriek of pain would follow, 
 and with shattered wrist the knife-wielder would drop 
 his weapon, and be dropped himself next moment 
 with a terrific blow from Cash Bags's fist. It was 
 Wun Lung who fired the shots. He had saved 
 himself from falling through the wall by clutching 
 at the edges of the hole; and now, knowing that 
 coolness, more than desperate attack, was essential in 
 the interests of his comrades, he had taken up his 
 position where he would be of most service with his 
 weapon, not sparing himself, however, in giving the 
 lamas a most lively time in the rear, by pulling them 
 backwards one at a time from the struggling mass, 
 and half- strangling them. He did not know that 
 
200 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 Geegee had gone over into the hole, and the lamas 
 did' not realize that they were being manned down 
 from behind, because they had somewhat prema- 
 turely concluded that, when the sliding wall had been 
 opened, all their enemies on that side had been put 
 out of further powers of interference. 
 
 Meanwhile G. W. had forced a passage to the 
 gaping wall. He had no scruples as to his methods 
 of fighting people, who certainly had none regarding 
 him, and lamas and everyone else who opposed him 
 — he did not know the distinctive characteristics 
 which mark the various degrees of lamas of the 
 different nationalities, nor did he know nor care 
 that lamas were not necessarily Tibetan or Chinese — 
 suffered the same fate. He had seen Geegee pre- 
 cipitated through the black gap in the rocks, and, 
 although his mind refused to dwell upon what he 
 feared could be the only possible result of that fall, 
 he was determined to investigate. At length the 
 chasm yawned before him, but, ere he could look 
 down into its dismal depths, two men sprang at him 
 with intentions quite obvious. One was a tall, 
 powerfully-built lama, and the other the gory Chinese 
 secret agent. The lama's knife was raised, but the 
 Chinaman with a laugh flourished a Colt revolver 
 and pulled the trigger. But he was a fraction of 
 a second too late. G. W. knew the value of time 
 in such situations, as well perhaps as any man upon 
 earth, and his own Smith & Wesson spat out its 
 leaden charge without a moment's hesitation. The 
 two reports rang out apparently simultaneously, but 
 they were not really so. The American's was first, 
 and his bullet sent the weapon flying from the other's 
 hand just as its messenger was leaving the barrel. 
 Where the bullet did go, neither he nor the firer 
 
Over the Brahmaputra 201 
 
 knew, for, half a second later, the European-looking 
 Celestial was a second time that night unconscious 
 on the rocky floor, G.W. having dropped him there 
 with a scientifically-calculated blow from his sledge- 
 hammer fist.' The lama had by this time fastened 
 one hand on G. W.'s neck — he had dropped his 
 prayer-wheel — and was about to plunge his knife 
 into him with the other, but before he could utter 
 the indispensable " Om Mani Padmi Hum", which 
 must accompany every act of a true Buddhist, 
 whether he be lama, soldier, or civilian, G. W. had 
 thrown off his grip and seized him in his own. 
 
 "Blow you for a shaven-headed greasy old mur- 
 derer!" he exclaimed, raising him in the air with 
 an effort of strength surprising in one of his build. 
 " You've killed Geegee, but you'll keep him company 
 crossing the big river." He hurled the lama through 
 the gap as he spoke, and then leant over the edge 
 himself until he heard the splash of a body hitting 
 water. 
 
 " Puncture me!" he muttered. " Maybe I've done 
 wrong pitching that ugly old sinner down there. His 
 
 carcass will hit Geegee and Geegee ! " he bellowed 
 
 into the depths, and listened for an answer. " Howl- 
 ing snakes! was that an answer or an echo?" he 
 exclaimed, not even looking round at the fight. 
 "Geegee! Hullo! Are you there? I'm G. W. !" 
 
 "Hullo!" faintly floated from the darkness, and 
 G. W. stood up and went through a strange war- 
 dance. "I'll get ropes and come for you in no 
 time," he shouted down next moment. "We're 
 having a first-class circus up here." He flung 
 himself into the fray again, calling out: "Go it, 
 Cash Bags! Knock them over I Don't be too par- 
 ticular Take that, you mongrel Mongol! And 
 
202 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 swallow those teeth, you unwashed missing link!" 
 Action always accompanied his words, and the 
 lamas were suffering severely. Drawing into one 
 end of the apartment, they reorganized themselves 
 for a final onslaught; for now there were only two 
 Shokas standing, besides the nondescripts, G. W. 
 and Cash Bags. Wun Lung they thought was one 
 of themselves. But their rush never came. Instead, 
 they turned in a body and ran through a yak-hair 
 curtained doorway and up into a sanctuary, safe and 
 impregnable. Reinforcements for their enemies had 
 suddenly poured through the window apertures. 
 
 Meanwhile Geegee was still fighting a lone hand, 
 and amidst surroundings that would have eliminated 
 all idea of fight from the minds of most people. He 
 had fallen down a deep circular shaft, and only the 
 water at the bottom saved his life. He had dropped 
 plumb into this feet first, and after sinking until his 
 brain seemed bursting and suffocation had almost 
 done its work, he suddenly found himself bobbing 
 on the surface. "By Jupiter!" he muttered, "I'm 
 not dead after all." A ledge surrounded the pool 
 of water, and he swam towards its dimly visible 
 outlines. But he stopped before he had come within 
 reach of the platform, and drew back again. "Surely 
 I'm not mesmerized again," he exclaimed, "Oh, I 
 wish I could wake up and find Mac and the Lama 
 beside me. But no, this is real. I am at the bottom 
 of a well, and helpless, and these must be real animals 
 I see waiting on the ledge to devour me." 
 
 He floated on the surface without moving and tried 
 to think; but little hope could be derived from his 
 thoughts. Instead, he called to mind a story C.H.J, 
 had told him about the huge creatures, half-dog, half- 
 wolf, which were kept in every monastery for purposes 
 
Over the Brahmaputra 203 
 
 too horrible to contemplate. All around these half- 
 starved creatures were gathered, their baleful eyes 
 gleaming greenly, as they waited for their prey to 
 land. Occasionally one would emit a growl, deep, 
 fierce, and unlike any sound Geegee had ever heard ; 
 but they made no movement to jump into the water 
 to seize him, and after the lad had mastered his 
 nerves sufficiently, to allow him to think calmly and 
 logically, this fact surprised him. Why did they 
 not come into the water? They certainly were not 
 afraid of him; for their awful eyes followed his 
 every movement, in a manner which left no doubt as 
 to their intentions. 
 
 And why, he wondered, were they all grouped so 
 regularly round the ledge? No, two were within a 
 few feet of each other, and if he moved towards any 
 point, only those near where he would land prepared 
 to meet him, while the others set up a growling, 
 that would have struck terror to the hearts of older 
 adventurers than Geegee. His eyes were now be- 
 coming used to the darkness, and he could make 
 out the gaunt forms of the horrible man-eaters 
 plainly. He made a few quick strokes towards one 
 side so as to draw them. There was a terrific 
 snarling, and as each animal half-rose on its hind 
 feet to meet him, a clanking sound fell on his ears. 
 Then it dawned upon him why the fearful creatures 
 did not attack him in the water; they were chained. 
 And this fact also accounted for the manner in which 
 each stood guard over its own portion of the land- 
 ing. But the knowledge did not help him much, 
 and he groaned aloud. Soon he would have to allow 
 himself to sink, or voluntarily give himself to the 
 hungry horde. Their basilisk eyes, glowing like 
 green flames, were hypnotizing him. Oh, the horror 
 
204 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 of his situation! Why could he not die by sheer 
 effort of will? 
 
 Just then something struck the water beside him 
 with great force and disappeared in its depths, and 
 an object floating into his hands proved to be the 
 mitre-like headdress of a lama. The boy dimly 
 comprehended that the splash must have been caused 
 by the lama himself, and he grimly prepared to 
 struggle for his life when he came up, should he 
 still be alive, for of a surety not every man could 
 fall down the steep shaft without dashing his brains 
 out against the sides. 
 
 But surely he heard someone calling his name. 
 He tried to call out, but the sound was choked back 
 in his mouth, it sounded feeble and faint. He had 
 not much vitality left. Ah! hope gave him the 
 strength of ten men. Someone was calling. It 
 was G. W. "Hullo!" he shouted back with all his 
 strength, and then more immediate affairs took up 
 his attention. A biting snarling sound, followed by 
 the gnashing of teeth and much clanking of chains, 
 told him that the cerberian monsters had at last struck 
 their prey. But it wasn't him, it was the body of 
 the lama ; it had risen near the side, and was floating 
 still and seemingly lifeless on the water. But only 
 one dog had claimed him, the rest strained and tore 
 at their chains wildly, clamouring for the human 
 flesh they loved so well. Their efforts were impotent, 
 the chains would not yield an inch; and emitting 
 deep guttural grunts of ferocious satisfaction, the 
 powerful brute which had gripped the lama's robes 
 in its fangs, hauled the unconscious being out upon 
 the ledge. Geegee shouted at it, splashed at it, and 
 even came near enough to it to strike it with his 
 clenched fist, but to no purpose. The creature's 
 
Over the Brahmaputra 205 
 
 eyes became a more vivid green, and its muffled 
 growls, if possible, more fearsome, but it never re- 
 laxed its hold; its nature was to hold on while it 
 had life, and it knew that none of its companions 
 could interfere with it. 
 
 Geegee seized his opportunity; he could not re- 
 main in the water longer, for already he was be- 
 numbed with cold, and the chance of landing might 
 soon slip away. Cautiously he again approached 
 the edge where the lama's body was lying, and 
 ignoring the fierce clamouring of the circle of famish- 
 ing monsters, who saw their legitimate prey escaping 
 beyond their reach, he pulled himself up on the rock. 
 Bones were scattered promiscuously all over the ledge, 
 and although he did not see them distinctly, he did 
 not require to be told that most of them had once been 
 the framework of a living human being. But he had 
 not time to examine the gruesome horrors of the place. 
 A draught of air was playing upon his face, and he 
 knew that it could only be caused by another passage 
 to the outer world, somewhere. Nor was he long in 
 finding out where the outlet lay. The dog's chain, 
 against which he stumbled, made that clear. Each 
 animal had a hole in the rock in which to retreat, 
 or sleep, or devour its spoil, and its chain was fastened 
 at some point within the long den. Geegee traced 
 the chain of the dog on whose ground he stood 
 with his foot, and soon found the hole, and the 
 strong current of sweet air which blew through 
 upon his face was like a draught of new life. 
 
 But he could not leave a man to be devoured, by 
 a dog, even if that man had done his best to bring 
 about his destruction. The lama was still alive, he 
 could now feel, for there was a movement in the body 
 not imparted to it by the wolfish creature's teeth, 
 
206 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 which were still engaged in crunching up the heavy 
 garments. He bent over the form, and all doubts 
 were set at rest. Faintly, and with his last effort 
 of departing life, the lama was ensuring the ever- 
 lasting safety of his soul by murmuring the magical 
 formula of his faith, " Om Mani Padmi Hum ". 
 
 But the starving brute cared nothing for faith or 
 formula, and his teeth were sinking deeper and 
 deeper. Geegee's senses had by this time become 
 dulled to the tumult raging around him, his whole 
 interests were in saving the lama's life, forgetting 
 that his own was by no means out of danger, and 
 that in all probability the lama would attempt to 
 kill him, if he did succeed in freeing him from the 
 dog's fangs. He drew his sheath knife and felt 
 for the spot in the creature's neck wherein to plunge 
 it. The^ brute seemed to know its fate, for its eyes 
 gleamed fitfully and turned half-round in their sockets 
 to watch, but the teeth never slackened. Geegee 
 raised his blade shudderingly. He had never taken 
 life before, and he recoiled from the idea of killing 
 even a murderous dog. The creature's eyes were 
 fixed upon him, staring backwards; its teeth were 
 fixed but making no further movement. Could it 
 possibly have the feelings of a human being? Could 
 it know what the fall of that steel blade meant? Was 
 it indifferent, because it had the knowledge that it 
 would be re-incarnated in some shape higher than 
 that of a sacred monastery dog? Geegee dropped 
 his arm and replaced his knife. "No, I can't do 
 it," he muttered. "I can't kill any living creature 
 in cold blood. I'll try some other plan." 
 
 And he did ; he closed both hands round the brute's 
 throat and applied all the pressure his strength could 
 concentrate into his grip. He felt the throat muscles 
 
Over the Brahmaputra 207 
 
 expanding, he saw the eyes rolling; momentarily he 
 expected to find himself being torn to pieces, for the 
 dog had merely to unfasten its teeth from the lama 
 and Geegee would have no chance. But the instinct 
 of the animal was stronger than its reason, and it 
 retained its first grip. Tibetan dogs* never let go. 
 A gurgling sound now came from its throat, and 
 a convulsive shudder permeated its gaunt frame. 
 Geegee squeezed tighter still, and the creature rolled 
 over and lay stretched out beside its intended prey. 
 It was not dead, but it was as near that state as 
 semi-strangulation could make it. Its teeth were 
 still clenched in the lama's garments, and the lad 
 forced them apart and pulled the man into the long 
 hole. " Your chances of life are now the same as my 
 own," he said, " but these don't seem to be much." 
 
 The lama was showing signs of speedy recovery, 
 and knowing he could do no more, Geegee started 
 to grope his way along the tunnel in which the 
 chain was fixed. It had evidently been cut out by 
 the hands of men hundreds of years previously, for 
 its sides were too regular to have been formed 
 naturally. It was about three feet in height and 
 about two feet in width, and seemed to curve a con- 
 siderable amount to the right in course of its length. 
 Keeping his left foot in contact with the chain he 
 crawled along over bones, odd remnants of garments, 
 and pieces of dried yak hide which had proved too 
 tough for mastication. Occasionally a reptile of some 
 kind would scurry away in front of him, and a few 
 bat-like creatures flapped their wings in his face as 
 he advanced. At length he came to the end of the 
 chain; it was fixed firmly in the rocks on a pivoted 
 joint, which allowed of its being twisted by the dog's 
 movements and yet rectifying itself. 
 
208 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 Geegee paused to think. Without the chain to 
 guide him he might wander on in the heart of the 
 rocks and never emerge anywhere. The current of 
 air reassured him, it could only come from the out- 
 side. So keeping in close touch with the left wall, so 
 that he would know how to retrace his steps if need 
 be, he continued his journey. The bones and other 
 relics still lay scattered on the floor of the tunnel, 
 showing that sometimes the wolfish guardians of the 
 pool travelled towards the outside world also. For 
 about the same distance beyond the chain as he 
 had come with it he crawled forward, then suddenly 
 without warning he found himself in the glorious 
 free air of night, with the moon and stars overhead 
 and the white frosted peaks of the Himalayas in the 
 distance. The dogs were the guardians of the 
 mouths of the passages as well as of the inner 
 ends, their chains allowing them to travel to both 
 the outside and the pool. He looked around him 
 for a moment, and saw corroboration of this thought 
 all along the base of the cliff under which he now 
 stood, in the shape of tunnel entrances similar to 
 the one from which he had just emerged. A series 
 of angry growls emanating from these holes proved 
 the idea to be a fact, and that each dog had followed 
 him to the outside in its own tunnel; but Geegee 
 was not in a mood for further investigation. He 
 could see where the camp was, for he remembered 
 a. peculiarly shaped bluff, which had been taken ad- 
 vantage of when the storm had been seen approach- 
 ing. He knew, too, that the entrance to the monastery 
 could not be far away from where he now stood, but 
 he had had enough of adventure, and his one desire 
 was to get back to his comrades in the camp. 
 
 Running swiftly he soon covered the intervening 
 
Over the Brahmaputra 209 
 
 distance, and with a cry of thankfulness burst into the 
 sheltered enclosure. The horses were nibbling at 
 some coarse grass growing at the base of the cliff, 
 and the yaks and goats were also near, for their 
 bells tinkled musically and clearly. The packs were 
 all right, heaped up behind the wall of stones erected 
 to break the force of the sandstorm. But his com- 
 rades were not there. "Oh, will this horrible dream 
 never end ! " he cried, throwing himself down on his 
 blanket, which lay spread out as he had left it. "I 
 must surely be dreaming or mesmerized." He tossed 
 feverishly on the ground and groaned. His brain 
 was in a whirl and he thought he was going mad. 
 Everything was mixed up hopelessly in his mind, 
 and he expected to see Dalai Lamas in the form of 
 strange monstrosities lurking in every shadow. 
 
 Luckily he was not kept long in this state. Sud- 
 denly there fell upon his ears a voice that was familiar, 
 and he sat up. 
 
 "I'm on his tracks, boys; he's got safely back to 
 camp, I'll bet ten lamas." 
 
 "Geegee!" another voice sounded out on the 
 night. "Geegee!" 
 
 "Cash Bags!" responded the lad, rising and run- 
 ning to meet the two figures he saw coming along the 
 cliff base. " Cash Bags, do tell me if I am mesmer- 
 ized, or if everything is true that I have gone through." 
 
 "Here he is!" Cash Bags cried loudly, as he 
 bounded towards his comrade. " Oh, Geegee, what 
 a fight we've had! but it's all over now, and none 
 of our fellows are damaged beyond repair, the Lama 
 says. How did you escape?" 
 
 " Oh, I don't know, Cash Bags. I'm mad, I think. 
 Do you see any starving dogs near? Oh, is that 
 G.W.?" 
 
 (09) 14 
 
2io Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 " You bet a live Shoka and three dead Chinamen it 
 is," answered that individual. "But, my word, young 
 man, that patent dog kennel wasn't built for white 
 men to play at hide-and-seek in. Whew! I thought 
 I should never get through." 
 
 "Were you in that dog pool too,'G.W.?" Geegee 
 asked. He had forgotten that G.W. had called down 
 to him from the monastery. 
 
 "I was; and I don't think.it was quite playing 
 the game on your part to strangle a dog out of its 
 dinner, seeing that the dinner was a lama, and the 
 dog hadn't dined for over a week " 
 
 "But how did you get down, and how did you 
 get out?" Geegee's mind was not yet clear, and he 
 was wondering if he should find his comrades all 
 around him when he should wake up. 
 
 " I went down on a rope, of course, and had a torch 
 with me. I got out the same way as you did, for 
 it was easy enough following your tracks, you left 
 a trail of water all the way, and I tumbled to the idea 
 of the dog tunnels as soon as I saw the long chain 
 on the fellow you spiflicated. But you are all right 
 now, Geegee, and G. W. will see that you don't go 
 any more exploring trips during the night on your 
 own account. My! you ought to have seen Cash 
 Bags, though. He is dead nuts on lamas." 
 
 " But where are all the others? and who can tell me 
 what caused everything? My head is all wrong." 
 
 "The others are coming; I see Mac and the 
 Shokas coming out by the front door now. But 
 blow me if poor G. W. can tell you what started 
 the fun. The missionary — I mean Wun Lung — and 
 you should know." 
 
 The Lama, Mac, Wun Lung, C. H. J., and the 
 Shokas now appeared, most of the natives walking 
 
Over the Brahmaputra 211 
 
 in a dazed manner which suggested that they had 
 not come out of the fight scatheless. 
 
 "Well, Geegee," cried the Lama, as they came 
 near, "from the fact that you are alive I take it 
 that henceforth you will be immune from all the 
 dangers Tibet and its lamas can hurl against you. 
 But give us your story while we get ready for the 
 trail. I didn't expect we should have had an ex- 
 perience of Tibetan methods so soon." 
 
 Geegee told his story so far as he knew, beginning 
 at his strange dream and ending at his escape through 
 the dog holes. While he was speaking Mac and 
 Wun Lung were attending to the wounded Shokas 
 who had fought so bravely, and the rest had gathered 
 in the team of yaks and goats, and got the horses 
 ready. 
 
 " So you thought you were following me, Geegee?" 
 the Lama remarked when the tale had been told. " It 
 was very cleverly done, and it is indeed a marvel that 
 they did not get the stone. You were mesmerized, 
 of course. Your old friend, the much - travelled 
 Chinese agent, got in among us while we were 
 asleep, and picked you out as the one most likely to 
 be susceptible to his subtle hypnotic influence. How 
 he got here I don't know; but it is quite clear that 
 we are watched already. Now, Wun Lung, how did 
 you happen to be among the lamas in time to help 
 Geegee? I didn't know you were well enough ac- 
 quainted with the fraternity to carry out such a trick." 
 
 " I couldn't sleep, and after the storm had passed 
 I went out along the cliff bottom for a walk. I wanted 
 to think out something, and I find walking in the 
 night air assists me greatly in that respect. I remem- 
 bered hearing you tell some of us that there was a 
 4 red ' monastery near here, and I was curious to see 
 
212 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 what it was like. Well, I hadn't gone far when I saw 
 three men issue from the rock face and come towards 
 me. They were red lamas in full dress, and having 
 studied Lamaism to some extent I easily perceived that 
 they were of the Chinese class. I drew into a recess 
 and watched them. They came along unsuspectingly, 
 and were talking a Chinese dialect which I under- 
 stood very well. I listened. They were talking of us, 
 and of our being in possession of the lost eye which, 
 when restored, would revolutionize all Western Asia. 
 They, being Chinese, wanted that stone. One of 
 their number, besides being a lama of the highest 
 degree, seemed also to be a man with a European 
 education; in fact, I thought he was one of those 
 mysterious men said to be trained in the highest 
 Tibetan monasteries in all the arts, sciences, and 
 languages of the world, in the interests of the Chinese 
 Government Secret Service. People in Europe laugh 
 at the idea of such men existing, but I know that they 
 are very much a fact, and Europe may know it to her 
 cost some day. Well, their idea was to steal into our 
 camp and scatter a drug around which would cause 
 a heavy sleep to come over all. Then one of us 
 would be mesmerized and taken to the shrine of 
 Buddha, and forced to tell all he knew about the 
 lost eye. Afterwards he would be led back, and 
 none of us would know in the morning that any- 
 thing had happened, and they would have all our 
 knowledge. They feared, however, to approach the 
 camp all together, and thought it best to separate 
 and crawl up on it from different directions. As 
 soon as they had scattered to do this I pounced 
 upon the lama who had remained near me — I think 
 you will find him lying over by that wild tea bush 
 now — and borrowed his red robes. I was a yellow 
 
Over the Brahmaputra 213 
 
 lama myself, you know. I then ran towards the camp 
 hoping to catch the fancy Chinaman, or in some other 
 way frustrate their designs, but I was too late. I met 
 my companion ' red robe ' coming back, and before I 
 could do anything he called out that the work was 
 done, and that we had better go back at once to assist 
 in some performance or other. Realizing that I could 
 not now serve any good purpose by making him a 
 prisoner, I turned and accompanied him, and event- 
 ually found myself one of a circle of silent lamas 
 assembled round some idol famous for its powers of 
 imparting wisdom. 
 
 "Shortly afterwards Geegee was brought in, and 
 I could see that he was in a hypnotic state. You 
 know the rest." 
 
 "Not yet," said Mac. "Where do G. W. and 
 Cash Bags come in? and how were the Lama, 
 C. H. J., and I left out in the cold?" 
 
 "That is soon told," answered the American. 
 "Cash Bags kicked me up from a fine dreamy 
 sleep to ask me something about astronomy. I told 
 him to ask Mac, and went on with my dream; but 
 he gave me another kick, and when I asked him 
 if he thought I was a football or a Chinese lama, 
 he just pointed to the cliffs and asked what kind of 
 stars hung so low down, and what made them flash 
 like a policeman's lantern. I didn't know, and 
 began to tell him some rot about altitudes, and how 
 all things were different from what they should be 
 in Tibet; but I wasn't quite satisfied myself, and 
 after a bit I got up to see further about why lights 
 should be shining in the cliffs' face. But I was as 
 sleepy as a night watchman, and if it wasn't that 
 Cash Bags had gone on himself I would have gone 
 back to my dream again. However we got up under 
 
2i4 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 the lights and my sleep left me then. We heard 
 voices, and they were talking, business too. We 
 swarmed up the walls and in through holes through 
 which the light was coming, and at the same time 
 some of the Shokas, who apparently were also prowl- 
 ing around, either because they had a bad conscience, 
 or knew there was a monastery about from which 
 they might steal something, burst in through other 
 windows. That's all my bit of the story. Cash Bags 
 fought like a Montana boy, and I got a rope and went 
 down after Geegee, when I saw I wasn't needed on 
 top any longer. 
 
 " I found his pet dog and the lama I had pitched 
 down lying in each other's arms, but I went on 
 through the tunnel and — well, here I am I Any man 
 got a match?" 
 
 " And only our story is left," the Lama said. " You 
 ell it, Mac." 
 
 "A Shoka awoke me and told me there was a 
 fight going on inside the rocks, so we roused all 
 hands and came along to take a part in it. We 
 expected it was some trouble our fellows had got 
 into with the lamas, for we knew there was a monas- 
 tery somewhere near, although we couldn't exactly 
 locate the spot. We got there in time for the finish, 
 and the lamas won't leave their place of refuge in 
 the upper rocks, until they are sure we are many 
 miles away." 
 
 "Hullo, Ali Baba! what do you want?" G. W. 
 had addressed the chief Shoka, who, with head 
 bandaged and arm in a sling, had joined the group. 
 
 "Shoka no' like that mon-a-stery," the man said 
 in quaint English. "Shoka never camp when near 
 it. Lamas no' good men. They kill an' steal many 
 poor traders an' sheep, an' no' care what things 
 
Over the Brahmaputra 215 
 
 yours an' what things mine. They no' good lamas. 
 I think they no' men at all. Shokas glad they get 
 good whacking to-night. I think we better git." 
 
 "By gosh! you are the most sensible talker in 
 the crowd," G.W. laughed. " I'll cultivate you a bit 
 after this. Git is the word, boys." 
 
 And it was. When daylight came they had put 
 twelve miles between them and the hidden monas- 
 tery, and when night fell that distance became fifty. 
 Here, after holding a consultation with his comrades, 
 the Lama decided on making a detour, to avoid pass- 
 ing through a Tibetan village which lay ahead on 
 the main road, and next evening they camped on 
 the high rocky right bank of the Brahmaputra, 
 They had seen nothing to indicate that they were 
 still followed, and were hopeful that once the great 
 river was crossed, and they were in the more fertile 
 valleys beyond, they would become lost among the 
 many other trading and pilgrim caravans journeying 
 between the larger settlements and Lhasa. 
 
 They had left the Manasarawar road to the west, 
 but had now joined a smaller track which promised 
 to take them well into the heart of the country. At 
 daybreak Geegee got his first view of the famous 
 river, which for some hundred miles in its middle 
 course is lost, or at least entirely unknown to geo- 
 graphers. It was a turbulent foaming torrent, about 
 a hundred and fifty yards in width. It filled the 
 entire space between the high precipitous banks, and 
 carried on its flood huge blocks of ice shed from the 
 many glaciers which feed its rocky channel. Gee- 
 gee knew from the sheer walls which contained it 
 that it was also deep. A single rope spanned it, 
 starting from the banks about a hundred feet above 
 the water, but sagging in the middle to within ten 
 
216 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 feet of its rushing current. Geegee said nothing, 
 but he wondered if that frail -rope were to be the 
 means of crossing. Cash Bags, too, eyed the bridge 
 with interest. He had never practised tight-rope 
 walking, and he would have preferred that his first 
 attempt at that sort of work had been over anything 
 else than the boiling Brahmaputra. G.W. appeared 
 to be unconcerned, but several times during break- 
 fast Geegee saw him cast thoughtful glances at the 
 torrent and then at the rope. 
 
 But the Shokas seemed in no wise perturbed, and, 
 of course, the Lama, Mac, and C.H.J, never showed 
 any emotion. Wun Lung walked to the starting 
 point of the rope, and apparently satisfied himself 
 that it was fixed all right, and then came back and 
 resumed his breakfast as indifferently as if London 
 Bridge spanned the Brahmaputra. 
 
 Meanwhile the Shokas had cut some pieces of rope 
 in lengths of about six feet, and were forming them 
 into loops over the bridge rope. Then a young, 
 laughing Shoka sat in one of the loops, and, with 
 a jest in his own language flung to his comrades, 
 reached up and caught the spanning rope in both 
 hands, and as coolly as could possibly be, began to 
 haul himself across, the loop supporting his weight, 
 of course, sliding over the main rope with him. He 
 carried one end of a strong cord, and, after sliding 
 down to almost the water's edge, he steadily pulled 
 himself up on the other side, and in a few minutes 
 performed a weird dance on the opposite bank to 
 show his comrades that everything was right. He 
 also shouted a message, but the roar of the rushing 
 water drowned his words. Turning his cord round 
 a wooden pulley on the far side, he then slid down 
 the long curve again, and soon landed beside his 
 
Over the Brahmaputra 217 
 
 companions once more, still carrying the end of the 
 cord he had taken with him, which now constituted 
 an endless guide and propelling rope. 
 
 It all looked very simple, and soon most of the 
 Shokas had crossed; then the goats and yaks were 
 tied in the slings, and by means of the endless cord 
 pulled over. 
 
 "Now, then, Geegee," said the Lama, "do you 
 think you can tackle that bridge?" 
 
 "I think so, sir; it looks easy enough. But how 
 are the horses to get across?" 
 
 "The Shokas on this side will ride round with 
 them to a bridge on the main Peking road, a day's 
 journey from here. We can't risk doing that our- 
 selves, but the Shokas are quite entitled to do so; 
 they will join us outside a town which I think is 
 within a three days' march from the river, where 
 we shall enter as legitimate pilgrims for Lhasa." 
 
 Geegee swung himself into one of the loops, and 
 caught hold of the bridge rope overhead, as he had 
 seen the Shokas do, and in a second he went flying 
 down towards the mighty torrent, his body stretched 
 out and his face towards the sky. This was the 
 correct way, but Geegee didn't feel too sure of him- 
 self, and when he rested for a second at the bottom 
 of the sweep, suspended only about a yard above 
 the roaring torrent and completely engulfed in its 
 spray, it required all his strength of will to fight 
 the inclination to let go his hold and fall in. But 
 the Shokas on both banks had been watching him, 
 and now began to pull him up by means of the 
 rope the first man had carried over, and Geegee had 
 merely to steady himself by his own efforts. Quickly 
 he ascended the opposite incline, and soon he stood 
 safely with those who had already gone over. Cash 
 
ai8 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 Bags followed, but G. W. had taken the precaution 
 of lashing him into the loop, so that he could not 
 fall out even if he did let go. The American came 
 next, scorning to be tied in "like a yak" as he said 
 himself. He had never switchbacked along a rope 
 with a river underneath before, but he was not going 
 to let the others see that the performance was new 
 to him. To show his contempt for the supposed 
 dangers of the journey, he hung swaying over the 
 swishing waters in mid-channel for a moment, and 
 releasing one hand, lowered his sheepskin cap into 
 them, as if he wished to catch up a drink. His 
 weight had caused the rope to sag more than it 
 had yet done, and he easily dipped his headcovering 
 into the swiftly rushing current. The instant it 
 touched the water, however, it was whisked from 
 his fingers, and calculating, presumably, that it would 
 reach the Bay of Bengal before he could if he went 
 after it, he resumed his journey up to the point of 
 disembarkation. 
 
 The Lama and the others came over as easily as 
 the Shokas, and then cutting their endless cord and 
 removing their loops, the natives formed up the team 
 again and moved ahead, their comrades with the 
 horses on the other side saluting in military fashion 
 as the procession started, and riding away. Nana 
 Sing was their leader, and he knew Tibet and its 
 people as well as he knew the sunnier valleys on 
 the other side of the Himalayas. 
 
 " I almost believe we've dodged the Secret Agent 
 people," Mac remarked thoughtfully, as the river was 
 left behind, and only its reverberating roar was evi- 
 dence that it existed down between the lofty banks. 
 
 " It looks like it, Mac," the Lama responded, read- 
 ing his companion's thoughts correctly. " If they 
 
Over the Brahmaputra 219 
 
 really had kept us in touch, and knew we were 
 coming this way, they could easily have got that 
 rope cut half-through for our benefit." 
 
 ' ' I guess they've got a better plan than that 
 hatched," laughed G.W., who had borrowed another 
 cap from a Shoka. "They'll be waiting until we 
 get too far into their confounded country for any 
 news of our fate to travel back to India before they 
 start the next act." 
 
 "I have hopes now of throwing them off the scent 
 soon," the Lama said. " If we get into the big town 
 which lies ahead without interference, they'll have 
 trouble in locating us after we leave it; for there will 
 be at least a dozen caravans passing through it 
 every day, bound for Lhasa and China. In fact, 
 the great Central Asian caravan route leads through 
 the town and connects with Paris at one end and 
 Peking at the other." 
 
 " I never knew of any towns in this part of the 
 world," put in Geegee in some surprise. 
 
 "Few people do," laughed the Lama.. "We are 
 in a land now of which almost nothing is known on 
 the other side of the Brahmaputra. It is one of the 
 richest tracts on the earth's surface in mineral wealth, 
 and it is also very fertile. See, there is a pleasant 
 sight for you, Geegee; those are apple trees, and 
 farther over is the famous China mulberry, on the 
 leaves of which the silkworm feeds. We are in a 
 different country now, and one well worth fighting 
 for. China knows that, hence the ignorance of 
 Europe concerning it: China has had experience 
 already of the policy of grab followed by some 
 nations, and doesn't intend that Europe should think 
 that this tract is worth possessing." 
 
 "By my unshaven chin," cried G. W., "you are 
 
220 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 a curious character, Lama ! Here you are, preaching 
 away about one country grabbing another, and sling- 
 ing out hints against Germany and Russia and other 
 tinpot shows, and all the time Britain has got a grip 
 on your country like a Chinaman to his pigtail. 
 Why don't you worry about India and let Tibet go 
 to thunder, or annex it yourself?" 
 
 The Lama smiled. ' ' You are too impulsive, G. W. , " 
 he said, "and you jump at conclusions rashly. I am 
 a loyal subject of King Edward first, and afterwards 
 I am what circumstances make me. India is happier 
 under British rule than ever she was under her own 
 princes, and the conditions of her people have im- 
 proved greatly. Besides, you know, Britain did not 
 want India. She kept the petty princes on their 
 thrones as long as it was possible, but was ultimately 
 forced to take up the burden of Empire, to put 
 an end to the civil wars that were for ever raging 
 throughout the country. No more, I am sure, does 
 she want Tibet, but that doesn't mean that she can 
 afford to allow any other power to seize it." 
 
 "But it is Chinese already," observed Cash Bags, 
 remembering the effect of a former conversation, and 
 wishing to show he knew something about Eastern 
 policy. 
 
 "And Chinese Britain would much prefer it to 
 remain," the Lama continued, " only China can't hold 
 it against Russian aggression. And now we are back 
 to the same old question. We are here to disturb the 
 balance of power when the time comes, and if we 
 knew how Russia was coming through her trouble 
 with Japan our course might be clearer. However, 
 we may get some information in the town of Changtse 
 in a day or so." 
 
 "How can we?" asked Geegee. "There is no 
 
Over the Brahmaputra 221 
 
 telegraph system here, and we have travelled as fast 
 as any caravan." 
 
 "My boy, surely after your experiences you don't 
 require to be told that there are ways and means in 
 Tibet of sending messages inexplicable to us. See, 
 there is a jong or fort crowning that hill on the right. 
 Its soldiers will stop us if there has been any news as 
 to our purpose sent ahead." 
 
 " What if they do?" asked G.W. " Does it mean 
 fight or run?" 
 
 "Neither, we are pilgrims, and will risk an exami- 
 nation. These are Tibetan soldiers, and will not 
 prove so difficult to deal with as the wily Chinese." 
 
 But the jong did not stop them. Evidently there 
 was nothing suspicious about them, and soon they 
 left it behind. They were now travelling through 
 a well-wooded valley, and streams of ice-cold water 
 gurgled down the slopes at every turn. On every 
 prominent feature in the landscape, rock faces, and 
 gentle hill slopes, the magic symbols met their eyes, 
 " Om Mani Padmi Hum". Truly they were in the 
 heart of Buddhaland. 
 
 During the afternoon they passed an imposing- 
 looking monastery built high on the face of a cliff, 
 and basking in the sun's brilliant rays. But there 
 was nothing hidden about this temple. It was just 
 what it seemed, a training house for some degree of 
 lamas, and an object of veneration to the pilgrims 
 who visited it. There were over a thousand lamas in 
 the huge erection, C. H. J., who seemed to be well 
 acquainted with his surroundings, told the party, and 
 he added, " They are all decent fellows, and highly 
 educated." 
 
 Later on the sound of a water-wheel struck their 
 ears, and a turn in the winding track disclosed a 
 
222 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 huge wheel being revolved by a large waterfall, which 
 dropped from a great height. The wheel turned 
 merrily and steadily, and its music was pleasing. 
 
 " But what does it do?" enquired Geegee, as the 
 party stopped to watch the thing, "I don't see any 
 machinery attached. What is the use of it?" 
 
 "It is praying," Mac grunted, "that's all. Look 
 at its sides. Every revolution means one Om Mani 
 Padmi Hum." 
 
 " What a waste!" commented G.W. " I guess we 
 would know better what to do with cheap power like 
 that where I come from. Do the people in this 
 country ever do anything else than pray?" 
 
 "Not much," C.H.J, answered. "They make 
 fancy topboots, and lamas' robes, and guns for shoot- 
 ing round corners. They also grow sheep which 
 give a remarkably fine wool, and work gold, silver, 
 copper, and borax mines. Most of the wool goes 
 to Kashmir, in India, and all their gold goes to 
 China. Every third man is a lama of some kind, and 
 every woman has, perhaps, half a dozen husbands. 
 That's Tibet, its people and its customs, in a nut- 
 shell; and when I say that they are really kind- 
 hearted, fun-loving, and highly superstitious, you 
 know everything that most outside people know of 
 them." 
 
 "That's a powerful long speech for you, C.H.J.," 
 remarked G.W. "Do you know much more about 
 the country yourself?" 
 
 " Yes, and I expect you'll share my knowledge too 
 some day," grunted C. H. J.; but not another word 
 would he utter. 
 
 The party made good progress, and camped in an 
 apple orchard by the wayside at night. Next day 
 they were in among other caravans which had joined 
 
Over the Brahmaputra 223 
 
 the track, but they kept themselves carefully apart. 
 At night the horse party joined them, and another 
 camp was found in a patch of wild-tea scrub. Next 
 morning the lama visited a neighbouring caravan 
 and bought some prayer-wheels, and early in the 
 afternoon the city of Changtse rose before them, 
 shining red, white, and gold in the sunlight. 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 The Story of the Logon 
 
 "Are you all ready, then, boys? Is there any point 
 you don't know? Remember, one mistake is fatal to 
 our enterprise. Can you all pray correctly?" 
 
 " You go and stick your head in that pool, Lama, it 
 will help to cool it. We'll make no mistake. How 
 can we? Cash Bags and I are the only people in 
 this picnic who can't talk some language common 
 to Buddhists, and we are Bengali pilgrims, under 
 vows not to utter a word until we have circumambu- 
 lated the shrine of Tsong Khapo in Lhasa. I don't 
 know the gentleman's history, but I'm going to pay 
 him my respects anyway." G.W. turned his prayer- 
 wheel industriously as he spoke. 
 
 " Rehearse your various roles, then, and Mac and 
 C. H. J. will watch for slips. Who are you, Cash 
 Bags?" 
 
 Cash Bags gave his wheel a turn or two, looked 
 silently towards the rising sun, placed his forefinger 
 on his lips, and walked round in a small circle from 
 left to right, emphasizing the fact that he started with 
 his left foot, and giving that limb an exaggerated 
 circular sweep forward when moving it. Then he 
 gazed abstractedly into space, turning his prayer- 
 wheel meantime. 
 
 " Vera good, Cash Bags," commented Mac. " But 
 
The Story of the Logon 225 
 
 make that gaze of yours as much like one of deep 
 meditation as you can. Think of England, home, 
 and beauty, and the bad climate in London." 
 
 "Who and what are you?" asked C.H.J. , turning 
 to Wun Lung. 
 
 Wun Lung held up his right hand, palm outwards, 
 and disclosed a deep scar running across it. Then he 
 broke out into a string of words pitched in a falsetto 
 voice, and concluded by muttering the prayer formula, 
 the while he turned his wheel. 
 
 "That sounds all right, Wun Lung," said G.W. 
 "What were you telling us?" 
 
 "I gave you the sign of a Chinese lama of a 
 superior degree, told you my name, the gompa or 
 monastery I belong to, and added that having been 
 in India, I was making a penance pilgrimage to 
 Lhasa on my way home: I met you fellows near 
 Manasarawar, and joined your party for protection 
 and the opportunity of studying Hindustani." 
 
 " There's not much fear of you, Wun Lung," the 
 Lama said. " You may be able to pull us through 
 some tight holes. What have you to say, Gee- 
 gee?" 
 
 "I am a humble seeker after light," answered 
 Geegee in Hindustani, " and having time heavy on 
 my hands, and a weight of sin on my conscience, I am 
 filled with the desire to see the glories of the sacred 
 city." He also kept his prayer-wheel in motion as he 
 spoke. 
 
 "You'll pass," the Lama commented; "but your 
 language has got a European sound about it. Talk 
 to the Shokas as much as possible, and copy their 
 intonation." 
 
 " Suppose we put you through your facings, 
 Lama?" put in C.H.J. "You are new to this game 
 
 (09) 15 
 
226 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 yourself, you know." There was just a touch of irony 
 in his tones, but the Lama apparently did not notice 
 it. 
 
 "I am Chutzso Lama," he began in the same lan- 
 guage as Geegee had used. " I have long wished to 
 visit the holy city, and now having come into my 
 father's estate am journeying thither with some little 
 gifts for the great omnipresent source of all wisdom, 
 the Dalai Lama." 
 
 " Not bad," was Mac's comment. " I am a Ladaki," 
 he went on in a language which only C.H.J, seemed 
 to know thoroughly, although the Lama could follow 
 it — "my Scotch accent is best hidden in a hill people's 
 dialect — I am no one of any account, but the Bombo 
 of Nagehu owes me the price of a team of drapery 
 goods he borrowed from my men, and forgot to send 
 me the money." 
 
 "You are talking pure Tibetan, Mac," cried the 
 Lama in surprise. 
 
 "Of course he is," said C.H.J, in the same lan- 
 guage. "A man that was the Jalno once should 
 surely be able to talk his own language." 
 
 " What! were you the Jalno, Mac?" cried the Lama 
 in English, evidently greatly surprised. 
 
 " I was, and C.H.J, was Logon at the same time." 
 
 "Incredible! You must have been hypnotized 
 into that belief?" 
 
 "There wasna much hypnotism about the game 
 I played," Mac said grimly. "Nor do I think that 
 the Logon thought there was." 
 
 "Fair play, boys!" broke in G. W. "What in 
 thunder are you side-tracked on to now? What is 
 a Jalno, and who is a Logon? Does he bite?" 
 
 "Ay, and he scratches and kicks and kills, and 
 generally does what he likes, and no*man dares inter- 
 
The Story of the Logon 227 
 
 fere with him. He is licensed by the law for one 
 week, and Lhasa is at his mercy." 
 
 "And at the end of that week?" asked G.W. 
 
 " He is torn to shreds, and his flesh given to the 
 wild dogs that act as scavengers." 
 
 "Howling hurricanes! And C.H.J, was one of 
 those fellows?" 
 
 "Yes," muttered that individual. "And look at 
 me now. Mac saved my life at the risk of his own, 
 but I don't know that I've much cause to be delirious 
 with joy at having been able to keep life inside my 
 carcass. It isn't much to look at, G.W., but it was 
 once as good, as yours." 
 
 The little broad-shouldered man became silent. 
 
 "Do you mean that you were tortured and muti- 
 lated?" began G. W., but a sign from Mac stopped 
 him. 
 
 "C.H.J, is not in a mood for talking just now," 
 said Mac. " He gets vera morose when his thoughts 
 go back to that terrible time." 
 
 "But revenge is near, comrade," cried the little 
 man, and his eyes blazed with the thought. " Re- 
 venge is almost within my grasp. After that C.H.J, 
 has no use for this world, but he'll hold on to life 
 until he has paid his debts in full." 
 
 " My dear comrade," interrupted Wun Lung, link- 
 ing his arm in C.H.J.'s, "you have suffered much, 
 I know, and you have good cause to harbour revenge- 
 ful feelings against those who tortured you. But is 
 the feeling worthy of you? You have shown your- 
 self to be far superior to physical pain and suffering, 
 why not also rise above the elementary feeling of 
 revenge?" 
 
 "Stop, parson!" snapped C.H.J. "Talk to me 
 some other time if you think it worth while, but 
 
228 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 not now. I'll go ahead with the Shokas, and Mac 
 can tell you what he likes." 
 
 " Poor C.H.J.," mused the Lama, as the little man 
 moved out of hearing. " Mac, why didn't you tell me 
 some of this earlier? I had no idea, nor has the 
 world, that any white men since poor Moorcroft's 
 time actually lived in Lhasa, and now you tell me 
 that C.H.J, and you were its two chief characters 
 during the month of misrule, when its people and the 
 pilgrims within its gates go mad." 
 
 "Lama," said Mac, ''you know that several white 
 men have been in Lhasa. But we'll not go into that 
 now. I have just time to tell you a bit of a story 
 before we are up at the city's gates. So, if you give 
 the order to get up steam, I'll make my tale as short 
 as I can." 
 
 In answer to the Lama's signal the team drew out 
 into the roadway, and falling in behind a large cara- 
 van of merchants from Turkestan, moved toward the 
 city, another team of sheep laden with bags of gold 
 dust bound for Peking via Lhasa coming on im- 
 mediately behind them. The original riders rode 
 the horses, the Chinese Government brands being 
 covered with embroidered trappings, but not hidden 
 in any other way, as it was quite the thing for the 
 soldiers to sell their horses privately and steal more, 
 and no one would ever dream of stealing horses from 
 them. 
 
 "Well, Mac, fire away!" said G. W. as they fell 
 into line, the riders last. "What is a Jalno? And 
 what about you and C. H. J.?" 
 
 "A Jalno is a lama of high degree, delegated during 
 the month of misrule in Lhasa to act as absolute head 
 of the city. It is a time of festival, of course, and he 
 is supposed to represent some protecting god or other. 
 
The Story of the Logon 229 
 
 But there is also a devil in this programme. He is 
 selected by the Chinese lamas, who are mostly in 
 authority; for you know Lhasa is a town of a faith 
 more than of any one country, and although it is 
 the capital of Tibet, it is the fact that it is the sacred 
 city of Buddhism, and as cosmopolitan as Port Said, 
 that gives it its importance. Well, the poor beggar 
 selected to be devil, or Logon, is given unbridled 
 licence during the last week of the Jalno's rule, and 
 if he can condense a lifetime into that one week 
 and realize all its sensations, he is allowed to do 
 it, but his stay on earth other than as a spirit ends 
 with that week. He is caught then, and brought 
 before the Jalno, who, supreme in the powers of his 
 virtues, and wishing to show that his chief thoughts 
 are for the welfare of the people, tells the poor Logon 
 that he will give him a chance for his life, by playing 
 a game of dice with him. If the Logon wins, the 
 Jalno will change places with him, and go forth to 
 be slaughtered by the howling mob as they think 
 fit ; but if he loses, he has to take on all the sins of the 
 people, be stripped naked, and be given a half-hour's 
 start in a run for his life, the population being the 
 pursuers. He seizes at the chance, but, poor beggar ! 
 he doesn't know there is really no chance offered him. 
 He plays with ordinary dice, but the Jalno's are all 
 sixes " 
 
 "Look here, Mac, haven't you got a bell somewhere 
 about your anatomy that gives you a hint when you 
 are piling it on too thick? Of course all folks are 
 not alike. Maybe it's a drum you've got, or a steam 
 whistle. I guess poor old G. W. will soon have to 
 change his name. He isn't a patch on some of you 
 fellows." 
 
 "There is no bell needed this time, G.W. I only 
 
230 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 wish there were," said Mac grimly. "And the worst 
 has not been told yet. The men who choose the 
 Logon for the year never tell the reason of their 
 choice, and no one makes enquiries. Maybe they 
 are quite honest, and maybe they're not. But even 
 a Tibetan or a Chinaman knows that, if he kills an 
 Englishman, he stands a big chance of getting into 
 trouble over it. They may find out that an English- 
 man has got into their sacred city, and then the 
 question arises of how to get rid of him safely. 
 Well, the Logon has been made a scapegoat before 
 England was worth taking into account, and no one 
 can object to their minding their own business in 
 their own way; and, after all, what is a poor Logon? 
 He certainly cannot be a European at anyrate, for 
 Europeans have white skins. Well, anyhow, the man 
 was fixed upon as the devil, or sin-bearer for that 
 year, and the Jalno allowed him to run his course. 
 But that Jalno had ideas of his own, and was vera 
 obstreperous in his laws regarding the month of 
 misrule; in fact, he seemed to suspect that there 
 were some people in Lhasa who had no right there, 
 and he adopted measures to find them out, which 
 caused much inconvenience to many pilgrims who 
 didn't know Lhasa vera well. 
 
 "To cut the matter short, I was a pretty wild and 
 reckless sort of a man then, and when one day he met 
 me saying my prayers, crawling round the shrine of 
 someone or other, and told me I was an Englishman, 
 and would at once be hung from the Potala's highest 
 tower, I — well, I tied him to an idol, after changing 
 clothes with him, and dropped both into the Tombs 
 of Silence, under the floor. He would be well looked 
 after there so long as he didn't speak, but the first 
 words he uttered would bring him a lashing with a 
 
The Story of the Logon 231 
 
 yak-hide cat-o'-nine-tails. The lamas in charge of 
 the silence department make sure that they earn 
 their living. The month of misrule ran to a close, 
 and finally the Logon was brought before me for 
 the game of dice. I had been studying Tibetan 
 history from the inner side meanwhile, and I now 
 knew much of the mysterious rites and performances 
 of the country. We sat down opposite each other, 
 with about a hundred lamas standing round to wit- 
 ness the triumph of goodness with faked dice over 
 evil with the ordinary. He was a big powerful man, 
 and he had pitched a lama the full length of the hall, 
 when he had been released from his fetters. But the 
 trial was now on. ' You needn't mind throwing, 
 old Beelzebub,' he said to me in English. 'I know 
 all about this business. Just see if I can't throw 
 sixes ' " 
 
 " 'You are a white man?' I whispered, almost for- 
 getting my role in my astonishment. 
 
 "'I was once,' he laughed, 'but I don't know if 
 I could wash white now. Get on with the funeral. 
 You are a funny old beggar to be a Jalno yourself. 
 Chinaman, I suppgse?' 
 
 "'Great Grampians, no, man!' I cried. 'I am a 
 white man too. I am not the real Jalno. He's 
 doing penance for his sins in the Tombs of Silence. 
 But how am I to help you? The lamas are eyeing 
 us suspiciously already.' 
 
 " ' You can't help me, old man. I am the Logon, 
 and I've got to take his medicine. Give me the dice 
 and I'll throw for appearance' sake, and then give me 
 a shake of your fist.' 
 
 " Well, we played, and of course he lost " 
 
 "Go slow there, Mac," cried C.H.J, from the 
 front. "I have been listening to see if you would 
 
232 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 miss that bit, and I'll not have it. Listen to me, 
 boys, and I'll tell you the rest of the story." 
 C. H. J. fell back and joined the party, and Geegee 
 and Cash Bags rode closer, so as to catch every 
 word. 
 
 "The Jalno said the Logon had to suffer for the 
 sins of the people, and it wasn't likely that his life 
 would be worth much when the lamas, the people, 
 and the dogs had done with him. But I tell you, 
 boys, he swore he would leave it to fate to decide 
 who was to be Logon, he or I, as we could easily 
 effect the change, during the half-hour allowed the 
 poor beggar to get out of the city as far as the 
 shambles. I threw, and by all that is wonderful / 
 threw sixes. The Jalno reached for my dice, but I 
 wasn't skunk enough to allow that. ' No,' I said, 
 pulling the cubes away, ' I am a white man, and I'll 
 die one. I'll not take my life at your expense, for 
 you can't beat that.'" 
 
 " 'Give me your dice,' he said slowly and calmly. 
 ' We've got even chances and we're both white men. 
 My life is worth nothing to anybody, excepting my 
 old mother in far-off Scotland, and she is well pro- 
 vided for and will never know her wandering laddie's 
 fate.' 
 
 "'May I be a Logon eternally if I do!' I cried. 
 ' It's my funeral this, and I'm not going to have a 
 white man right through, even though I never saw 
 the colour of his skin, mixed up in it.' 
 
 "'Give me your dice,' he repeated. 'If I don't 
 throw sixes you are Jalno and I'm the Logon.' 
 
 " 'Then throw with your own dice,' I said. 'They're 
 all sixes. You can't possibly equal my throw with 
 the Logon's dice. And listen to that din arising out- 
 side.' 
 
The Story of the Logon 233 
 
 " ' Nobody will miss me,' he said, 'and life doesn't 
 mean very much to a tired wanderer.' 
 
 " ' And do you think I will leave a lot of sorrowing 
 friends?' I cried. 'I tell you there is not one in the 
 whole world who will screw out a tear for Charles 
 Henry James Lyndhurst. I had a dog once, but he 
 got killed, and now his master is ready for the long 
 trail too.' 
 
 "The Jalno stood up and signed for the lamas to 
 approach. They had been wondering what all our 
 talk was about, but they were too far away to hear 
 what we had been saying even if they had known 
 English. But the people outside were loudly clam- 
 ouring for the Logon. Something had to be done 
 and that quickly, and the Jalno did it. He told the 
 lamas that he would show that good never feared 
 evil, and that he would even throw with the dice 
 the Logon had used. ' And he has already thrown 
 the highest number,' he added. They were horror- 
 stricken. They thought the Jalno had forgotten the 
 facts of the case, likewise that he would be slaugh- 
 tered himself if he did not beat the Logon. One 
 lama began jabbering to him about the Logon's 
 dice being cursed and held out to him his own, 
 but the Jalno insisted, telling them that he had 
 command of the evil spirits, and would show them 
 so. What could I do? The slightest sign would 
 be fatal to both. He took the dibe and recklessly 
 threw. Miracle of miracles! they were all sibces. 
 Loudly cheered the lamas when they witnessed the 
 result of their chiefs throw. What evil, spirits could 
 prevail against him? I had now to throw again, 
 and with as near an approach to a prayer as I have 
 ever got since my boyhood days, I hoped that the 
 result would be low. It was; so low indeed that I 
 
234 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 chuckled aloud. The Jalno again took the dice and 
 without shaking them emptied them out. He had 
 scored one point higher. The game was his after 
 all. 
 
 " The lamas now departed to clear the streets for the 
 flight of the Logon, and at once the Jalno turned to 
 me. ' My name is Macandrew,' he said, grasping 
 my hand. ' I am an adventurer. You are an officer 
 in the British army, I know. I will take your place.' 
 
 " ' Not for all the crowns in the planet,' I answered. 
 ' But I have one request to make before those howling 
 fiends outside get my body. I have a stone in my 
 possession which has a history; it was given into my 
 charge by my comrade, and it is essential that it gets 
 into the hands of those favourable to the British 
 Government. Take it, and if you ever get out of 
 this place yourself, see to its safety.' 
 
 " He took it, and after another hand-grip we 
 parted, he to his palace, I to my doom." 
 
 C.H.J, closed his mouth with a snap, and remained 
 silent. Evidently he had said all he intended to say. 
 All looked at Mac; they knew the continuation was 
 in his hands. 
 
 "The lamas didn't give him his half-hour's start," 
 Mac said, taking up the story. "They were waiting 
 for him. They broke his body in a water-turned 
 prayer-wheel, and left it, when night came, upon a 
 platform of stones for the sacred dogs to pick the 
 bones. I gathered him up and carried him to a 
 cave near, nursed him and brought life back to him, 
 tied up his bones, and finally got him out of the 
 country. I also returned his stone. That was years 
 ago. We have both wandered a lot since then, but 
 we never spoke of Tibet until one day, about a month 
 ago, he came to me in great excitement and told me 
 
The Story of the Logon 235 
 
 of this expedition, and of course I offered my services 
 at once. Gentlemen, you now know everything." 
 
 Mac became silent; 
 
 "I saw the killing of the Logon that year," said 
 the Lama quietly. "I never dreamt that it was a 
 white man, though, but I am sure now that the 
 lamas knew " 
 
 ' ' Do you give us r your word that all that yarn 
 is true, Mac?" asked G. W. suddenly. 
 
 " I do; it is a bare recital of facts. I could dwell 
 on some horrors of my own experience and fill in 
 details about the torturing of the Logon, but I won't; 
 the memory of it all is like a nightmare to me yet, 
 and I often wake up, bathed in perspiration, to find 
 that in my dreams I have again been playing a part 
 in some horrible ceremony. But what were you 
 doing in Lhasa at that time, Lama?" Mac looked 
 questioningly at their leader, and his eyes expressed 
 more than his words. 
 
 " I was sent by the Indian Government to learn the 
 fate of Captain Gray ; but he had left no trace of his 
 ever having existed, and it was not until long after- 
 wards, when I met our comrade C.H.J. , that I learned 
 that they had been comrades together in Lhasa. But 
 let us change the subject of conversation. It is not 
 good for our younger members to hear of the atroci- 
 ties that are perpetrated in Lhasa." 
 
 "Just a word first, Lama," interrupted G.W. "How 
 is it possible that Mac and you and C.H.J., and prob- 
 ably others, have been able to live among these people 
 in disguise? I thought they were so clever that they 
 would spot strangers at once." 
 
 " They do," said the Lama, " but they don't always 
 let their victims know they are discovered, as the story 
 of the Logon will show you." 
 
236 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 "Oh! it isn't quite so easy as that to pick out 
 impostors," added Mac, fearing that Geegee and 
 Cash Bags might be affected by the conversation, 
 and lose their nerve when most required. "You 
 see, pilgrims as far apart racially and in language 
 as are Japanese and Ladakis, and Chinese and 
 natives of Ceylon, are always in Lhasa. They have 
 every right there, their faith being common, although 
 they cannot talk to each other. Now, although we 
 might give ourselves away — at least, some of us might 
 — if we proclaimed ourselves pure Tibetans, we will 
 excite no suspicion in the roles we have adopted. 
 The real Tibetan will class us among the ignorant 
 pilgrims from beyond his borders, and the pilgrims 
 themselves will be too much wrapped up in their 
 holy meditations to give us a thought. Besides, 
 we all know our parts, and probably will not be as 
 nervous in performing our religious duties as most 
 of the legitimate worshippers. Remember that Om 
 Mani Padmi Hum is a good answer to any question 
 in any language, whether you understand it or not. 
 Is that not so, Lama?" 
 
 " Mac," the Lama replied, " I think that you should 
 have been chosen for the leadership of this expedition. 
 You know Tibet, and especially Lhasa, far better 
 than I, or any other man I know." 
 
 "No, Lama, I know you. The man who passed 
 through Asia from Simla to Peking, and lived among 
 the different peoples he met as a lama of high degree, 
 is the best man for the game we are playing now. 
 You were cautious and thought out your movements 
 well. C.H.J, and I don't think, and it is only sheer 
 luck that pulls us through often. Did you know 
 Captain Gray?" 
 
 " He was my dearest friend in India. He was 
 
The Story of the Logon 237 
 
 chief of the Survey staff, and I was attached to it." 
 
 " Did you actually know my father?" asked Geegee 
 excitedly. 
 
 " I did, Geegee," replied the Lama; "C.H.J, knew 
 him also. We were together in several strange places, 
 I can tell you, but I lost him when he took on the 
 Tibet mission with a couple of faithful native sur- 
 veyors." 
 
 "And has nothing been heard of him?" Wun 
 Lung asked. "Could he not have gone through 
 into China?" 
 
 "No," cried C.H.J. , who evidently had overheard 
 Wun Lung's words. "He was Logon the year be- 
 fore me. I stayed in Lhasa with Nana Sing to 
 avenge him, for we knew the particular lama who 
 had found him out, and had taken this plan of getting 
 rid of him. Some of them are now dead, but before 
 they all had risked transmigration they collared me." 
 
 "And like you, old man, he cheated them," cried 
 Mac. "It is all clear to me now. Oh, why did 
 it never strike me before? The native who helped 
 us both to escape, C. H.J., and who saved my 
 life in the fight in the Potala, was Captain Gray." 
 Mac was more excited than ever his comrades had 
 seen him previously. 
 
 " Explain, Mac, explain," said the Lama, also show- 
 ing much agitation of spirit. 
 
 "By gosh!" exclaimed G. W., "I can smell the 
 time of my life coming round. Cash Bags, you 
 double-dyed Buddhist, you'll have a chance to show 
 your calibre yet." 
 
 ' ' The native who I told you, when crossing the 
 pass, helped me in a tight corner was the lama in 
 charge of the underground Tombs of Silence. He 
 was supposed never to come above ground, and to 
 
238 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 spend his life in meditation among the gods stored 
 in the vast hall. But although he could not get 
 outside the Potala, he didn't stick closely to his 
 underground, chambers. He often came up through 
 a secret doorway, and played chess or draughts with 
 the Jalno. During one of those visits — of course the 
 Jalno is more or less a prisoner too while. his rule 
 lasts — he told me to my face that I was an impostor, 
 and that he had the genuine Jalno in his keeping 
 down below. There was something in the way he 
 said it, checkmating me at the same time, that tickled 
 my fancy, and instead of at once calling in my lama 
 guard to cut out his tongue for his presumption in 
 addressing me, I hinted vaguely that there were more 
 than one impostor in Lhasa. He agreed, and after 
 some further parleying told me that he was one him- 
 self. He said he had been Logon the previous year, 
 but that on the second last day he had contrived to 
 sell his job to a fanatical pilgrim who wished to leave 
 this earth, sure of forgiveness for his many sins— the 
 Logon goes straight to Buddha, of course — and that 
 the other fellow was torn limb from limb by the lamas 
 and his bones picked by the dogs. He didn't tell me 
 how he became keeper of the tombs, but now I know 
 that his idea was to get inside the Potala, so that he 
 could hunt for the eye of the war god, supposed to be 
 hidden somewhere in the Halls of Silence." 
 
 "But how could he have given C.H.J, the eye of 
 the idol, then?" demanded Wun Lung. " C.H.J, saw 
 the end of the Logon, and it was only after that, 
 apparently, that your man got into the tombs." 
 
 "I don't know the facts exactly," answered Mac, 
 " but putting two and two together I fancy that he 
 found, the stone first try. He must have known 
 where to look for it, and possibly the last lama of 
 
The Story of the Logon 239 
 
 the tombs became silent for ever, unless he was trans- 
 migrated into a parrot, when he became the lama 
 of silence in his place. The Logon had still a day 
 to run, and I expect that during that day the other 
 changes took place and the stone was found. Then 
 he probably gave the stone to the new Logon — the 
 latter beggar has the right of entry into the palace, 
 you know — and made him promise to deliver it to 
 Gampo when he should declare himself. A promise 
 from a man, knowing he is going to end his earthly 
 career in so many hours is usually fulfilled, and after 
 all is said against the Buddhists, the unsophisticated 
 among them regard their word once given as sacred. " 
 
 "But you haven't told all yet, Mac," cried G.W. 
 They were now almost at the gates of the city. 
 
 "There isn't much more to tell. My reign as 
 Jalno came to an end the night I gathered up what 
 was left of C.H.J, or Gampo, and when I appeared 
 before the Dalai Lama's throne to yield up my brief 
 sovereignty, I was attacked by about a hundred 
 lamas, who evidently had been watching me that 
 day and suspected something was wrong. One 
 man cannot fight a hundred, and I thought my 
 chances of getting back to nurse poor C. H. J., 
 whom I had hidden, were mighty poor, when the 
 floor gave way under me, and I fell down into the 
 tombs. They extend all under the Potala, although 
 I didn't know it until then. But it wasn't anyone 
 on top who had opened the floor. They were as 
 much surprised as I was, I am sure. It was my 
 old friend the tomb keeper. He had somehow got 
 to know the state of affairs, and had engineered 
 things for my benefit, and so that I wouldn't be 
 hurt when I fell. Well, I haven't time now to go 
 into details j he hid me until the hue and cry was 
 
240 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 over, and then led me out by a tunnel which had its 
 other end outside the city gates. We shook hands 
 on parting like Britons, and he laughed when I put 
 out my tongue, the proper Tibetan salutation. And 
 now you know all the rest, and I'm tired talking." 
 
 "Then my father may yet be alive?" cried Gee- 
 gee. "Oh, let us hurry into Lhasa!" 
 
 "Why didn't he escape with you?" asked Wun 
 Lung. "If he were not a native, he would have 
 taken the opportunity of getting away with a com- 
 panion like you " 
 
 "And caused all Lhasa and its sacred dogs to be 
 on our tracks," finished Mac. " I did not then think 
 he was anything else than a decent soft-hearted lama, 
 all the same, or I should have tried to persuade him 
 to come. I went back some nights afterwards to 
 get food for myself and C. H. J., but the tunnel-end 
 was blocked up, and I had to steal into the town 
 past the slaughter-house, and through the cordon of 
 carrion dogs which are let loose at night. I now 
 believe that that man was Captain Gray." 
 
 "And to think that I was in Lhasa then looking 
 for him!" the Lama cried. "If I had only known 
 I could " 
 
 "You could have done nothing," Mac interrupted- 
 "The people were mad then, and would have torn 
 you, or anyone else, to shreds if you were found near 
 the Potala." 
 
 "Then you think he is still a prisoner in that place 
 of silence?" G. W. asked. 
 
 "I think he is still lama of the tombs, unless he 
 has met his end since then. He was too cute to 
 allow himself to be caught for Logon a second time ; 
 but in those vast underground halls he would have 
 to wait for ever, for their keeper is not supposed to 
 
The Story of the Logon 241 
 
 see the light of day, and it is not likely that there 
 would be any other passages to the outside world 
 unknown to the other lamas of the city." 
 
 " Geegee," spoke the Lama slowly, " if your father 
 is alive, another fortnight will see him in the free 
 air of heaven, or I shall be with him in the 
 tombs." 
 
 " I guess those tombs are going to be sort of popu- 
 lar with this crowd," put in G.W. quietly, "and may 
 my bell never ring again, if I leave this mysterious 
 land of witchcraft and murder without him. Cash 
 Bags, you'll have to go home without my restrain- 
 ing influence on your fiery impetuosity — is that the 
 right word, Mac?" 
 
 "Cash Bags is never going home unless with the 
 rest of the party," spoke the one-time clerk. "He 
 knows what life is now, and also the meaning of the 
 word comrades " 
 
 "And Cash Bags speaks for us all there," said 
 Wun Lung. ' ' None of us shall leave Lhasa until 
 we know the secret of these tombs and the Potala." 
 
 A silence fell over the party; no one cared to 
 speak. Each knew that he would get plenty of 
 opportunity to show his courage soon, and words 
 were superfluous. 
 
 They passed through the gates of Changtse close 
 behind the caravan they had been following, and 
 Cash Bags and Geegee looking round in wonder- 
 ment. This was the first town they had seen since 
 leaving Almora in India, and it was typically Tibetan. 
 They were in a street flanked by large square-built 
 houses, with square, curtained recesses in their thick 
 walls serving as windows. They were all flat-roofed 
 and most severe in design. To Geegee the street 
 looked like a double line of whitewashed forts, and 
 
 (09) 16 
 
242 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 he could scarcely bring himself to believe that the 
 long black snouts of heavy guns would not suddenly 
 appear in the windows. People were walking about 
 the street much the same as in any town in India 
 or China, but they were very quaint in appearance. 
 They were mostly dressed in sheepskin garments, re- 
 sembling a dressing-gown more than anything else, 
 held in place by a belt worn round the waist. The 
 faces of most of the people were of a dark-brown 
 complexion, but Geegee saw several whose skins 
 were not much darker in colour than the Lama's. 
 These latter people wore their hair nicely coiled on 
 the back of the head, and were by no means un- 
 comely to look upon, but the first or common class 
 were as ugly and ferocious-looking a set of human 
 beings as Geegee had ever seen. Their hair was 
 like coarse rope, and hung in matted masses over 
 their shoulders. Certainly the use of a comb was 
 either unknown to them, or deemed an unnecessary 
 adjunct to their wellbeing. Judging generally, too, 
 Geegee thought that soap was a commodity which 
 must be beyond price in the town. A few care- 
 fully groomed Chinamen, with blue silk tunics and 
 very roomy ngther garments of similar material, also 
 could be noticed, their neatly plaited pigtails render- 
 ing them readily distinguishable, and bands of gor- 
 geously dressed yellow lamas flitted about every- 
 where among the people. 
 
 The sun was well up in the eastern sky, and its 
 rays were fiercely hot where they shone, yet in the 
 shade the temperature was not much above freezing- 
 point. Geegee had noticed this strange fact the day 
 before. The right side of his body was roasting in 
 the forenoon, and his left felt as if it were inside a 
 refrigerator, but in the afternoon the hot and cold 
 
The Story of the Logon 243 
 
 positions were reversed. The reason was soon plain 
 to him ; the general altitude of the country was just 
 on the snowline, but its latitude was not far from 
 the tropic of Cancer. Hence an almost tropical sun 
 shone down on them, but parts where its rays did 
 not reach experienced the sensation of being in the 
 frigid zone. 
 
 No one paid the party any attention, as the little cara- 
 van made its way along the chief thoroughfare. Pil- 
 grims and traders were common sights in Changtse. 
 Following the caravan in front, and carrying their 
 prayer-wheels conspicuously in their hands, they 
 passed through the crowds of people, and soon 
 entered the great square in which was the bazaar. 
 Almost any commodity could be purchased here, 
 from the local products of the place to a cheap 
 gramophone, or ping-pong set, imported through 
 Leh in Kashmir, and brought to Changtse by sheep 
 teams. 
 
 One side of the square was formed by a hill, and 
 on its face and summit a large handsome gompa or 
 monastery shone resplendently in the dancing sun- 
 light. 
 
 The buildings on the other sides of the square 
 seemed to be of a public character, being much larger 
 and more imposing, while here and there in front 
 of them beautiful flowering shrubs grew, and in 
 glimpses he could catch of the gardens behind, Gee- 
 gee could see roses and rhododendrons in profusion 
 and tall poplar and walnut trees. He also detected 
 the homely bramble bush and some heavily laden 
 cherry trees. The seasons of flowering and fruit 
 bearing seemed mixed somewhat, and he thought it 
 strange to see luscious black brambles alongside the 
 tempting red cherry. But he was not in Tibet on 
 
244 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 a flower or fruit gathering mission, and he gave 
 the matter little thought. 
 
 The team in front stopped at a large white build- 
 ing, and passed through an archway opening in its 
 walls. Obeying a sign from the Lama, Nana Sing 
 led his Shokas through into the courtyard after them, 
 where they at once prepared to unload their animals 
 of burden. 
 
 "This is a pilgrims' rest," the Lama said to Gee- 
 gee in Hindustani. "We'll stay here and see if 
 we can gather some news." 
 
 The proprietor, an evil-faced, half-caste Chinaman, 
 coming out at that moment, the Lama asked for, and 
 received, permission to be allowed to honour the 
 establishment with their company, at their own risk 
 and some considerable expense. The Chinaman was 
 quick to see that he had to deal with no poor pil- 
 grims, and his terms rose correspondingly. It was the 
 strangest hotel Geegee had ever seen. It was inno- 
 cent of rooms, except the one large apartment where 
 all and sundry slept; water for ablution was a thing 
 unheard of, and the inside was as filthy as hundreds 
 of unwashed, perspiring Tibetans, Chinese, Hindoos, 
 and others could make it. Of course each man had 
 to provide his own bed and find the place where he 
 might put it; but having once been in the great 
 town of Sinning Foo in China, the proprietor had 
 adopted some of its civilized customs, and in one 
 end of the hotel dispensed brews of Tibetan tea to 
 pilgrims for the sum of 20 cash (about a penny). 
 
 This wonderful drink seemed greatly in demand, 
 and in the afternoon, when Cash Bags and Geegee 
 were left to keep an eye on the belongings of the 
 party, while the others went out to gather news, 
 they resolved to try it. They marched boldly for- 
 
The Story of the Logon 245 
 
 ward among the crowd of laughing, coarse-haired 
 Tibetans who had suddenly entered the place. Each 
 man carried a long heavy matchlock and a prop for 
 supporting the muzzle when firing it. A coil of yak- 
 hair rope, a knife, and some bulky packages of 
 ammunition and food were also attached to their 
 blanket-like coats, and it needed not their swagger- 
 ing air to proclaim them soldiers. 
 
 They laughingly made room for Geegee and Cash 
 Bags to pass through them, making jocular refer- 
 ences apparently regarding Cash Bags's sign that he 
 was under a vow of silence. To them that was an 
 extremely silly penance to inflict upon oneself, and 
 only the unsophisticated pilgrims from beyond the 
 snows would have suffered it. Geegee noticed that 
 several of their own Shokas were among the Tibetans, 
 trading with them for little carved images of Buddha, 
 giving in exchange brass buttons, and in some cases 
 Indian money. They were the best of friends, how- 
 ever, and drank tea together in large wooden bowls 
 which each soldier also carried about his person. 
 The Shokas never looked at their two companions 
 of the journey, but Geegee knew that they were well 
 aware of their presence, and as the Lama trusted them, 
 and as Nana Sing, the leader, had been his father's 
 faithful servant, he felt in no way alarmed. 
 
 Meanwhile the tea, in the shape of bricks, was 
 being stewed in several large brass vessels on a 
 stove, and from time to time the proprietor and his 
 assistants poured off the liquid into a long wooden 
 churn, in which had already been placed several 
 balls of butter and a quantity of salt. The mixture 
 was then churned up into a frothy mass, and served 
 out steaming hot in each man's own bowl. The 
 vendors were careful to see that the money was 
 
246 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 paid in advance; doubtless they thought that even 
 Buddhist pilgrims bound for the sacred city were 
 not over scrupulous when it came to the law of thine 
 and mine. 
 
 Geegee purchased bowls for himself and his com- 
 panion, and then joined in the jostling throng to 
 get them filled. He was soon successful in attain- 
 ing his desire, for the Tibetans politely, and with 
 much friendly demonstration, stood back in his 
 favour, some even offering to him handfuls of tsamba 1 
 to mix with his tea, and which, in all cases, Geegee 
 was very careful to take, although he knew that the 
 hands had probably never been in water, unless by 
 accident. He carried away his steaming bowls, and 
 sat down on the floor with Cash Bags to enjoy 
 their contents; and, while pretending to do so, the 
 Tibetans, evidently exhilarated by so much tea at 
 the expense of the Shokas, provided an entertain- 
 ment in the shape of a weird dance. 
 
 Two of them stepped into a cleared space, and 
 with their long knives in one hand, and Katas — the 
 scarves of love and friendship — in the other, went 
 through strange evolutions to the music of a kind 
 of drum and the clapping of hands by the on- 
 lookers, bending their bodies until almost touching 
 the ground, and raising each hand alternately. 
 
 It was a novel situation for both Cash Bags and 
 Geegee to be watching a dance of friendship per- 
 formed by Tibetan soldiers, but the former remem- 
 bered that the Lama had told him that the Tibetans 
 proper were really good-hearted people, so long as 
 their religious feelings were not worked upon by the 
 Chinese lamas or authorities. 
 
 But the dance came to an end suddenly, and the 
 
 1 A kind of oatmeal. 
 
The Story of the Logon 247 
 
 soldiers straightened up and stood respectfully at 
 attention, or its Tibetan equivalent. Two men 
 dressed in blue silk garments and richly embroidered 
 appendages had entered the room. One had an ugly 
 black mark upon his temple, and both wore pigtails. 
 Geegee recognized them at once. They were his old 
 friends, or enemies, the mysterious Orientals. 
 
 "Well, we have got them this time ally light," one 
 said in English with a laugh, as tea was hurriedly 
 placed before them by the cringing proprietor in 
 person. "They have the eye among them, and 
 only two of theil numbel al' missin'. We gety 
 them next." 
 
 " We're done," gasped Cash Bags. " Let us run." 
 "Not likely," Geegee answered in a whisper. 
 "We've work to do." 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 The Oracle 
 
 One of the men suddenly turned and spoke rapidly to 
 the soldiers in their own language, and instantly they 
 formed into line, clanged their matchlocks once upon 
 the floor, and then carrying them vertically in their 
 arms, marched from the place. Oddly enough the 
 Shokas went with them. 
 
 " Now we can talk safely," the man who had given 
 the command said as the room was cleared, except for 
 the presence of a few pilgrims and the tea makers. 
 " Go on with youl stoly now an' talky Inglis, no one 
 hele undelstan' that." But for his inability to sound 
 the letter "r", and his occasional dropping of a 
 terminal "d", his language would never have shown 
 the speaker to be of Chinese extraction. 
 
 Geegee and Cash Bags turned away their faces, 
 and, scarcely breathing, listened. No one else in the 
 tea divan was interested in the slightest, and all kept 
 a good distance apart from the imposing-looking 
 Celestials. Probably all but Geegee and Cash Bags 
 knew their rank, and were afraid that the aristocrats 
 of the land, the people who had power even over the 
 lamas, and were under only the Grand Lama of any 
 monastery, might order them to be flogged if they 
 accidentally crossed their shadows, or obstructed their 
 line of vision. But not knowing nor caring much 
 
 248 
 
The Oracle 249 
 
 for the greatness of the two secret agents, as such 
 both knew the Orientals to be, Geegee and Cash 
 Bags remained where they were, and appeared to be 
 engrossed in the profundity of their meditations as 
 they turned their prayer-wheels. 
 
 The secret agents did not even deign to look at 
 them. They were only common Indian pilgrims, 
 and far beneath their attention. 
 
 "Well," said the man with the mark of Geegee's 
 bullet on his temple, "they got away flom us com- 
 pletely, an' I not know what to do. One give me 
 this. I give him fine time when I gety my fingels 
 on him." 
 
 Geegee shuddered, there could be no doubt as to 
 whom the men were speaking of, for the present 
 speaker had indicated his wound as having been 
 received from one of them. 
 
 "We know they will come to Changtse fo' news, 
 fo' they cannot know what has happen' with Lussia 
 and Nippon. Then whele will they get news? If 
 they know the countly they will come to the olacle 
 of Changtse, for it know evelything. Good, then I 
 come to Changtse too, an' wait an' wait while you get 
 oul men hunt all ovel the countly. Byanbye I see 
 people go up to olacle, an' know they come flom 
 India by thele plesents. Ah! they wanty news. 
 Wha' fo' they wanty news? Pilglim should play an' 
 nevel mind news. I go up to olacle an' tell lama 
 I wanty know who pilglims al', an' what they -wanty 
 know. Well, I become olacle, pilglims come in one 
 by one clawling on stomach. Up and down lound 
 and lound they come until at last the filst man come 
 in befo' olacle. He give his plesent an' ask who is 
 winning between Lussia an' Nippon? I telly him an' 
 he clawls away out the other way. Next man asks 
 
250 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 whele Blitish folce is? I telly him too, and he clawl 
 away. Next man ask if the load to Lhasa is open to 
 pool pilglims, an' no Chinese soldiels on it to lob 
 him. Foulth man wanty know if any foleign devils 
 in Lhasa now, an' last man he no wanty know any- 
 thing, he penance pilglim. Ha! ha! They all 
 clawling lound an' lound now, an' only gety back to 
 olacle again, an' olacle silent fol evel aftel telling one 
 answel to one pilglim. Only load out is now by 
 olacle himself, an' I come outy that way. Soldiels 
 way up now. I told them to take all men found 
 inside to jong, an' nevel mind what they say, as they 
 clevel impostols. My wold! we gety them now." 
 
 " But can they not get out?" the other man asked. 
 "I don't know the olacle of Changtse." 
 
 " No, entlance is thlough one dool only in wall of 
 temple hall. Passage twists all ways an' only big 
 enough fo' one man. It is what Inglis people call 
 a maze. Olacle stand in deal space in centle, an' the 
 load away flom it leads back to dool. That dool is 
 now shut, and pilglim will keep on clawling lound 
 but only gety back to olacle again. Nevel find dool. 
 Olacle himself only way." 
 
 The two secret agents laughed long and loudly, 
 and the listeners groaned in despair. It was clear 
 to them that their comrades had been trapped in some 
 maze, and what could they do to bring them out? 
 But the first man was speaking again. 
 
 "Come up now an' see them taken away with 
 soldiels," he said. "We can have laugh at them, 
 an' telly them they fools. We can gety up thlough 
 seclet way to temple long befole the soldiels gety 
 lound about. My wold ! We gety eye of wal god 
 this time sule." 
 
 "Will you?" muttered Geegee grimly. "I'll pro- 
 
The Oracle 251 
 
 mise that if you do get it you will be past having 
 much interest in it." 
 
 " But what about the Gland Lama of Changtse? 
 he will not allow bloodshed of any kind," put in the 
 other as they rose to depart on their mission. 
 
 " No, but the Gyalpo 1 is one of oul fellows, an' the 
 Gland Lama will nevel know anyting about it. The 
 lama of the olacle is also one of us, an' he keepy 
 mouth shut." 
 
 The two secret agents passed out, and as unostenta- 
 tiously as possible Geegee and Cash Bags got up and 
 followed them. It was now late in the afternoon, and 
 the streets were thronged with the pilgrims who had 
 come in that day from all parts, most of them now on 
 their way to say their afternoon prayers before the 
 shrine of Buddha in the temple on the hilltop. 
 
 It was, therefore, an easy matter for the secret 
 agents to be followed by the youthful Shoka pilgrims, 
 and they were never allowed out of sight. It was a 
 thrilling sensation that the trackers experienced going 
 through the streets of a city entirely unknown to 
 Europeans, and surrounded by hundreds of fanatical 
 pilgrims, who probably, in an access of zeal, would 
 have taken their lives without a moment's hesitation, 
 had they but made the slightest mistake, although 
 one of the chief tenets of their faith is the law of 
 Buddha forbidding the taking of human life. But 
 already Geegee knew it was not the simple, easy- 
 minded, pleasure-loving Tibetans they had to fear, it 
 was the Chinese officials who governed the place. 
 China's rule was certainly not oppressive to the 
 people, and they hardly felt it. The Gyalpo was 
 careful not to interfere with the Grand Lama's sphere 
 of influence in any way, and attended solely to the 
 
 1 Chinese regent in Lhasa, also civil governor of any important town. 
 
252 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 governing of the town, in secular matters. At least 
 such was believed to be the case, and the people 
 never wondered why the Grand Lamas died so fre- 
 quently, naturally thinking that these holy men — 
 and the Grand Lama is often worthy of the sacred 
 adjective — preferred to reach Nirvana as soon as 
 possible. 
 
 Geegee had no settled plan in his mind as to how 
 Cash Bags and he were to help their comrades, nor 
 had he the faintest idea of the situation they were 
 in. He knew they had been trapped, and that was 
 enough, and the fact that the same people who had 
 the Lama, Mac, and the others in their power could 
 surely make short work of the remaining two mem- 
 bers of the party did not trouble him. The remain- 
 ing two would follow the secret agents wherever they 
 went, and take all risks. 
 
 All around the populace laughed and chatted in 
 an unintelligible tongue. To them the war between 
 Russia and Japan meant nothing, nor did the inva- 
 sion of their country by a British force occasion them 
 any uneasiness. Empires might rise and pass away. 
 Dynasties might die out. The world outside might 
 be non-existent for all they cared, so long as pilgrims 
 came along and left a good share of their money and 
 goods in the town, before going on to Lhasa. Thus 
 they took little notice of the two Shoka pilgrims ; they 
 were well dressed, and wore costly ivory images of 
 Buddha as rosaries, and were therefore wealthy 
 enough to be entitled to some respect. And they 
 also carried revolvers of most serviceable pattern, 
 but this the people around did not know. 
 
 Through the bazaar, where much that was strange 
 might have caught their eyes had they not had a 
 sterner purpose in view, they followed the two 
 
The Oracle 253 
 
 mysterious Chinamen, and now the monastery on the 
 hill face frowned above them. A road led up the 
 slope on the right, and bands of pilgrims were follow- 
 ing its course; but the secret agents did not turn 
 towards it. Instead they walked the opposite way, 
 and climbed some stairs cut in the rocks, which led 
 on to a ledge immediately under the monastery. A 
 few pilgrims and lamas were standing there, and 
 Geegee soon saw what they were waiting for. An 
 endless rope was working round a pulley on the 
 ledge, leading up a carefully-cut inclined plane to 
 the heights above, and a number of lamas stood near 
 attaching and relieving bamboo baskets to the rope, 
 as passengers presented themselves for the up 
 journey, or came down. A silver coin, a brick of 
 tea, or a lump of mixed tsamba and butter, or chura *, 
 was the key which unlocked this way of entrance to 
 the sacred precincts of the gompa above; but these 
 were commodities which only wealthy pilgrims could 
 afford, or cared to give, especially as full credit for 
 a certain number of prayers were allowed to those 
 who walked up by the ordinary way. Geegee 
 shrewdly guessed that the rope was worked by a 
 water wheel near, but he had not then time nor 
 inclination for enquiry or investigation. 
 
 Cash Bags paid two rupees and they went aloft 
 in the basket immediately behind the Chinamen. 
 They had grown accustomed to novel situations 
 now, and even Cash Bags showed no surprise, nor 
 expressed any opinion regarding their passage on 
 the basket railway. At length they were uncoupled 
 on the top at the chief monastery entrance. Beneath 
 them the white-walled city of Changtse scintillated 
 in the rays of the setting sun. Far away the blur 
 
 1 Cheese. 
 
254 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 on the horizon marked the presence of the Himalayas, 
 and on the north stretched a great plain with here 
 and there a fertile oasis dotted on its surface. The 
 mountain they stood upon was an isolated peak, rising 
 straight from this plain like a grim sentinel guarding 
 the way to Lhasa, and, looking back along the road 
 they had come, Geegee saw several trading caravans 
 hurrying towards the city, so as to reach it before 
 nightfall. Winding out on the other side, too, 
 through dense woods of birch and wild rose trees, 
 ran the road to the sacred city, the road barred to 
 white men, yet the road which for ages had been 
 one of the most frequented highways in the world, 
 and certainly one of the most important. 
 
 Entering the great outer temple through a yak-hair 
 screened portal, the two adventurers threw themselves 
 prostrate upon the ground, as had done all the pil- 
 grims before them, including even the two secret 
 agents, who were now only a little way in front of 
 their two determined followers. Round the temple 
 floor all wriggled, as in duty bound when before 
 the sacred shrine. First the hands were thrown out 
 until they grasped niches worn in the solid rocky 
 floor by the clutches of many thousands of wor- 
 shippers, then they pulled their bodies along until 
 their feet found rest in corresponding holes, the 
 hands were again thrown ahead and the feet drawn 
 up to where the hands had first been. And so they 
 circumambulated the temple, but their eyes never left 
 the two gaudily dressed figures in front. At length 
 they reached the grand opening to the inner temple, 
 but its holy precincts must not be contaminated by the 
 feet of those who have not yet said their prayers at 
 the Shrine of Shrines in Lhasa. Pilgrims doing the 
 journey for the first time were therefore denied the 
 
The Oracle 255 
 
 delights and virtues attainable by crawling round 
 its vast floorway. Still there were other attractions 
 open to them. Innumerable yak-hair screened door- 
 ways opened off the inner temple entrance, and most 
 pilgrims thought it well to give their prayer-wheels 
 a few turns in some or other of the halls to which 
 these passages gave access. 
 
 One greatly favoured place of interest was the Hall 
 of the Oracle, but much to the disappointment of 
 many, who doubtless wished to know how their 
 various businesses were prospering in their absence 
 on pilgrimage, smooth-tongued lamas informed all 
 who applied for entrance to the maze leading thither 
 that the Gyalpo had ordered it to be closed that 
 day, for reasons connected with the welfare of the 
 State. After holding a brief conversation with the 
 man carrying the black bullet mark on his temple, 
 one of the lamas added to this information the general 
 statement that soldiers were coming to take away as 
 prisoners some bad people the Oracle had in its great 
 wisdom discovered. After that business would be re- 
 sumed as usual. This was given out in several lan- 
 guages, so as to suit all kinds of visitors, and Geegee 
 had grasped its purport in the first tongue used, 
 Hindustani. 
 
 He had no time to reflect, however. The secret 
 agents had already gone through a curtained door- 
 way in a darkened part of the passage between the 
 two temples, and swiftly, noiselessly, and unosten- 
 tatiously, he and Cash Bags followed. They found 
 themselves in a narrow dark corridor with walls as 
 smooth as ice. Evidently it had been cut out by 
 skilful artisans. It descended and circled a long 
 way until . Geegee thought it must have led them 
 down into the heart of the mountain. Breathlessly 
 
256 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 they felt their way along, fearful of making the 
 slightest sound which might alarm or raise the 
 suspicions of those ahead. 
 
 But suddenly they stopped. Only a few yards off 
 the men stood, a lighted copper lamp shining in the 
 hands of one of them, and casting a ghostly light 
 throughout the little hall they had now reached. 
 This was the end of the passage, then, and to Cash 
 Bags and Geegee the knowledge brought nothing 
 but dismay. They were as far from their comrades 
 as ever, and were now even in a most critical posi- 
 tion themselves. Geegee sat down on the floorway. 
 His heart had left him and he cared not what hap- 
 pened next. Cash Bags, ever inquisitive, advanced 
 a step or two nearer, but next instant he was back 
 beside his comrade trying to tell him, by shaking 
 his shoulders roughly, that this was no time to give 
 way to despondency. 
 
 Geegee at once sprang to his feet and stepped for- 
 ward with his comrade, and then he was galvanized 
 into life again. 
 
 The room in which the two men stood was just 
 an enlargement of the corridor, but its roof was 
 considerably higher, a fact which Geegee had not 
 noticed at first. But this was not what had re- 
 awakened Geegee's interest. One of the men was 
 manipulating a cord hanging on the far wall, and 
 in response a rope ladder was uncoiling itself from 
 the roof. Down, down it came until the lower end 
 touched the floor; it fell from the centre of the 
 roof, and Geegee saw a joint in the stone overhead 
 which told that the slab enclosed within the markings 
 was movable. 
 
 In a flash light dawned on him. This was, after 
 all, the secret entrance to the Oracle, known only to 
 
The Oracle 257 
 
 the lamas; and through the roof overhead was the 
 Oracle itself, probably a hollow monstrosity, access 
 to the inside of which was gained by the rope ladder 
 from beneath. He caught Cash Bags by the arm 
 and pulled him back along the passage, the latter 
 wondering what had happened to cause this move- 
 ment, but allowing himself to be led unresistingly. 
 It was only to speak to him, however, that Geegee 
 had taken him away from the room, and Cash 
 Bags was not long in understanding the meaning 
 of his words. 
 
 "These men are going up into the room above," 
 Geegee whispered when at a safe distance. "They 
 can only go one at a time. When one gets off the 
 ladder we will tackle the other before he can follow. 
 You understand?" 
 
 "Yes," Cash Bags answered laconically. He was 
 not addicted to making long speeches. They crept 
 back to the edge of the shadows. One man — the 
 one with the bullet mark — had one foot on the 
 ladder. 
 
 "I will have a look at oul fliends filst," he said 
 to his comrade in English, which probably was more 
 his language than any other tongue, for these men 
 seldom speak Chinese. 
 
 The other agreed; he could go later. He held 
 up his lamp so as to illuminate the upper part of 
 the room, and the first ran up the rope with the 
 agility of a sailor. The watchers kept their eyes 
 on him. He pushed against the roof with his head, 
 and silently and smoothly a large slab swung open 
 on a pivot. He pulled himself through and the 
 stone swung back into place. The Chinaman's eyes 
 were still fixed upon the place where his comrade 
 had disappeared, when, it seemed to him, the entire 
 
 (09) 17 
 
258 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 building fell in upon him, and he became mixed up 
 with the ruins. Stars, constellations of them, danced 
 before his eyes; the world gyrated wildly around him. 
 He tried to call out, but could not; he struggled, 
 gasped, and then suddenly glided off into oblivion. 
 This was the second time that highly trained Celes- 
 tial had been stricken down from out of the darkness, 
 but Cash Bags's hands were larger than Geegee's, 
 and the end came sooner this time. Already Geegee 
 was binding him with the ladder-connection cords, 
 and in almost no time he was bundled helplessly 
 into a corner, his face purple, his tongue protruding, 
 and his sightless eyes bulging from their sockets. 
 The attackers had not- acted in half measures; they 
 had made sure of the effectiveness of their work. 
 They were fighting for their comrades, and sentiment 
 held no place in their dealings with others on their 
 behalf. Geegee raised the lamp from the ground, and 
 the two desperate warriors looked at each other. The 
 lust of battle was in Cash Bags's eyes, but Geegee's 
 face only showed an expression of thoughtfulness. 
 He drew his knife - and cut the ladder away five 
 feet from the floor, then without a word extinguished 
 the light and stood ready on one side of the cut ropes. 
 Cash Bags arose and stood on the other side. An 
 absolute darkness prevailed. They waited. They 
 were tigers; but each thought the sound of his 
 heartbeats would rouse the whole population of the 
 monastery. After all. they were human. 
 
 At length a slight creak told them the stone over- 
 head was moving, and next moment the ladder began 
 to shake, showing that it was bearing a passenger. 
 The tension of Geegee's nerves was dangerously high, 
 but Cash Bags had forgotten he had nerves. 
 
 "Soldiels comin' in now," the man coming down 
 
The Oracle 259 
 
 laughed gaily. "Come up quick an' see fun! My 
 wold! We soon gety moonstone now." 
 
 He didn't know it, but his feet at that moment 
 were within a few inches of that greatly desired 
 gem. Some instinct might have told him it was 
 near, or his highly-trained occult powers surely could 
 have warned him of danger, close and terrible? But 
 no. All his mysterious attributes and accomplish- 
 ments did not save him. " Wha' fo' light out?" he 
 queried, and as he spoke he took the step that was 
 not there. The jerk pulled him down until only his 
 strength of arms supported him, and before he could 
 recover a foothold, his throat was seized in a horrible 
 clutch from out of the darkness below, and a running 
 loop lashed his legs together. His self-saving in- 
 stinct to hold on to the ladder made the work of his 
 assailants easier, and when his fingers relaxed their 
 tightly clenched grip, he was already unconscious, 
 and his body fell like a sodden log to the. floor. 
 
 Geegee struck a light and with trembling hands 
 lit the lamp. "You see to him now," he said to 
 Cash Bags, "I must get up here." He laid the 
 lamp down where it would yield most light, and 
 swung himself on to the ladder and up to the roof. 
 It opened with the pressure of his head, and he 
 pulled himself through the aperture. It closed 
 again. „ He was inside an idol in the shape of an 
 enormous squatting Buddha, and through a hole 
 in its body opposite his eyes he looked out into a 
 room hung round with katas, and tablets bearing 
 carved inscriptions. A dim light filled the place, 
 but whence it came he could not see, nor did he 
 try to determine. Seated on the ground were his 
 five lost comrades. G. W. was smoking a cigar he 
 had found in some hidden recess in his garments, 
 
260 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 and his eyes followed the clouds of curling smoke 
 with almost childish interest. Wun Lung was 
 drawing out a plan of something on the stone 
 floor. C. H. J. was watching the entrance to the 
 apartment and a long knife gleamed in his hand. 
 The Lama was reflectively chewing betelnut, and 
 Mac was studying the Oracle meditatively. They 
 certainly did not give one the impression that they 
 knew they were trapped, and that their lives would 
 probably be the penalty exacted for their being found 
 inside the holy oracle chamber. 
 
 "What time is it?" asked G. W. suddenly. "I 
 feel a bit hungry." 
 
 "It isn't near feeding time, anyway," Mac replied. 
 "And from what that Oracle told us just now of its 
 own accord, and against all laws and regulations, 
 for we never asked it, I gather that when we are 
 fed it will be with red-hot spoons, or some other 
 equally pleasant Chinese appliance." 
 
 "But the thing said that the soldiers were now 
 coming through the maze," put in Wun Lung. 
 "Couldn't we make another attempt to find the 
 way out?" 
 
 "No use," spoke the Lama, "there is no road out 
 just now. We have been trapped by our old friends 
 the secret agents, although how they have contrived 
 to do so I can't imagine. At any rate, they would see 
 that all possible means of escape were effectively 
 closed." 
 
 "I don't see what you're all worrying about," 
 grunted C.H.J. "Wait till the black rope-hair 
 beggars come, and then eat them." 
 
 "I have been thinking," said Mac, "that oracles 
 are no' vera trustworthy things. Of course we have 
 got the information we asked for, which may be 
 
The Oracle 261 
 
 correct, but we got far more from the lamas in the 
 outer temple and " 
 
 ' ' Oh, shut up, you long-winded phonograph ! " 
 growled G. W. "Tell us how to get out, if you 
 can, or how to get something for eating." 
 
 "I was saying I had been thinking," went on 
 Mac with unruffled manner, "and I have come to 
 the conclusion that that Buddha in front of us must 
 be hollow " 
 
 "By the Stars and Stripes, Mac, you've got some 
 brains!" G.W. cried sarcastically. "But you surely 
 don't mean it?" 
 
 "And that as an English-speaking oracle can't be 
 the spirit that always lives inside, there must be a way 
 into its interior through which Mongolians and others 
 can come." 
 
 "A most wonderful deduction," G.W. commented; 
 " I wonder your brain can stand it, Mac." 
 
 "What are you driving at, Mac?" broke in Wun 
 Lung. "I know you've got hold of some idea." 
 
 "Just that as there is an entrance from somewhere 
 into that idol's interior, we should try to get inside 
 too, and go out by the private road " 
 
 "But how can we do that, Mac? We've no tools, 
 and it isn't likely that that idol isn't solid enough to 
 withstand all we could do against it." 
 
 " We've got some cartridges, G. W.," Mac said 
 musingly, "and we might contrive to blow a hole 
 in it " 
 
 "No time now, Mac," said the Lama. "And in 
 any case the noise of the explosion would reverberate 
 along those twisting passages, and the lamas would 
 get us just the same. We had better wait here 
 patiently until the Tibetan soldiers come, and then 
 either fight them or try to bluff them. They can't 
 
262 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 be absolutely certain as to our identity yet, and all 
 this may be a ruse to make us give ourselves away." 
 
 "Saints and sinners and Scotsmen!" cried G.W, 
 staring at the top of the idol's head. "Am I mad, 
 or dreaming?" 
 
 All followed his gaze. The top of the head was 
 opening and a human head was rising through the 
 aperture. Next moment Geegee looked down upon 
 them. 
 
 "Howling blizzards! Buddhists and bandicoots!" 
 ejaculated G.W. " I'm mesmerized, and Cash Bags 
 is not here to kick me." 
 
 " Cash Bags can do that down below," spoke Gee- 
 gee before the others had done more than utter charac- 
 teristic expressions of surprise. " Come, boys, quick! 
 the Tibetans are coming for you now." 
 
 " How on earth did you get here?" cried the Lama, 
 hardly daring to believe that his senses were not 
 under some occult influence. 
 
 ' ' Good afternoon, Geegee ! " said Mac ; " I see you've 
 been transmigrated. I hope you like your new job." 
 
 "Don't wait to talk," the figure emerging from 
 the idol's head entreated, "come away now!" 
 
 ' ' Om Mani PadmiHum, " muttered G.W. " We're 
 coming, Geegee, we're coming." 
 
 " But this must be a trick of the lamas," cried Wun 
 Lung; " Geegee couldn't get there." 
 
 "But he did, Wun Lung; and Cash Bags too," 
 replied the lad. " He is down below watching the 
 two secret agents now — come away!" 
 
 And without further words they obeyed, and 
 scrambled up over the Oracle's stony face, and 
 through the door in its head. Soon they were in 
 the hall beneath, and the two Chinamen lay before 
 them. 
 
"a human head was rising through the aferturh 
 
The Oracle 263 
 
 "Geegee and Cash Bags," began the Lama, "I 
 don't know how you managed to get here, nor how 
 you have accomplished so much, but you have saved 
 all our lives from a death by the most fiendish torture 
 that the Chinese-Tibetan mind could devise. We are 
 grateful " 
 
 "By gosh, I just reckon we are!" cried G. W. ; 
 "for all my cigars were left in the hotel and I was 
 on my last smoke." 
 
 "But we are not finished yet," Geegee said; "we 
 must take these men up and leave them where you 
 were. They will then be taken away to the Jong and 
 treated as you were to have been. The soldiers will 
 not listen to them should they recover, as they have 
 orders not to mind what the impostors say, and they 
 will think that these men have been caught by the 
 Oracle masquerading as the men who gave the soldiers 
 the order to come here." 
 
 "And by the sacred stolen eye, we'll see to that 
 part of the programme!" muttered C. H.J. "Sling 
 them on to the ladder, boys; I can haul them up 
 myself." He ran up the rope way again and prepared 
 to receive the inanimate bodies. 
 
 But a better plan presented itself to Geegee, whose 
 engineering mind was always working, and acting on 
 his idea, the seven comrades took up positions on the 
 ladder and in the idol, so that the Chinese agents 
 could be passed up from one to the other. Then 
 Geegee himself lifted the men, one at a time, of 
 course, into Cash Bags's hands, as he steadied him- 
 self on the lowest rung of the ladder. He in turn 
 raised them to Wun Lung, who reached down from 
 the highest point to receive them. The Lama pulled 
 them through the idol's base and passed them to 
 G.W., who had perched himself up near its shoulders. 
 
264 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 Mac sat astride the latter but outside, and after re- 
 lieving G.W. of his burden handed through the head, 
 he lowered them to C.H.J., who stood upon the idol's 
 crossed legs. At this point each man was dropped 
 gently to the ground, where with slowly returning 
 consciousness he lay, probably wondering into what 
 shape and form he had been re-incarnated. 
 
 "Get inside, Mac!" C.H.J, sang out as he deposited 
 the second man at the idol's base, " I hear the Tibetan 
 soldiers talking now; they're coming through the 
 maze at the double." 
 
 Mac hastily passed the word down, and swung 
 himself inside. C. H. J. scaled the Oracle's front at 
 the same time, and the head door had barely closed 
 on him, when a long string of excited Tibetans burst 
 into the vacated room. Looking through the sight 
 hole in the body of the hollow god C. H. J. saw that 
 some of the Shokas were among them, and he laughed 
 grimly. Geegee had not yet told his story, but it was 
 quite evident that the brave Shokas had also got to 
 know of the sahibs' trouble, and had come along to 
 share it if they could do nothing else. A cry of sur- 
 prise went up from the Tibetans, as they beheld the 
 men they had been sent to take away. Truly the 
 Oracle was great and mighty. Besides detecting the 
 impostors, it had bound them. First throwing them- 
 selves upon their faces, the soldiers, ever increasing 
 in numbers as their comrades came through the maze 
 leading into the chamber, crawled round the room, 
 careful to observe that their procession was moving 
 from left to right. Any other motion would likely 
 be invoking a curse instead of saying a prayer. Mean- 
 while the re-incarnated Oracle waited and watched. 
 His work was not yet finished. 
 
 At last the circle was completed, and many thou- 
 
The Oracle 265 
 
 sand " Om Mani Padmi Hums" uttered. Then one 
 of the soldiers stood out from the rest — evidently 
 he held some rank among them — and cried out in 
 Tibetan: "O Thou, in whom the wisdom of the 
 Lord of Speech is re-incarnated, Thou whose know- 
 ledge is vast as the ocean, grant us the answer to 
 this question: Are these impostors those whom we 
 have to carry to the Jong?" 
 
 Short, crisp, and to the point came the answer in 
 the same tongue: "Yes." 
 
 Then another Tibetan stepped forward, for only 
 one question could be asked by one man. "0 
 Thou, whose knowledge is greater than that of all 
 kings of mankind," he cried, ignorant of the fact 
 that he was not necessarily rating the wisdom of the 
 Oracle very high. ' ' We know whom these base im- 
 postors pretend to be. Shall we give them trial 
 before the Gyalpo?" 
 
 "No!" thundered the Oracle. "To the Jong 
 prison with them! and see that they do not cheat 
 you. " 
 
 Then Nana Sing, the Shoka chief, took the middle 
 of the floor. 
 
 " I, too, am of the faith whereof springs all 
 wisdom," he cried. " I have brothers. Where are 
 they?" He spoke in his own tongue, but all good 
 oracles know all languages. 
 
 " If you would join them, go forth to-night, swiftly 
 and silently. Tarry not to explain, nor to ask ques- 
 tions of anyone. Further instructions now await thee 
 where thou wouldst, but may not, sleep," the Oracle 
 replied. And seeing that no more questions were to be 
 asked, and that the secret agents were fast beginning 
 to take a wondering interest in their surroundings, it 
 added: "It is now the hour when the light of the 
 
266 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 world goes to rest. When darkness is once more 
 conquered by its bright rays the Oracle will again 
 speak." 
 
 C.H.J, then dropped through the hole in the base, 
 slid down the rope ladder, and joined his comrades, 
 who had been kept informed of the nature of the con- 
 versation by Mac when Tibetan was talked, and by 
 the Lama when Shoka was turned on. 
 
 "Now, then, captain, what is the next move?" 
 asked G. W. " Is there a way out from here, or 
 have we to transmigrate ourselves into ghosts and 
 go through the rocks?" 
 
 "Follow Cash Bags and me, and do exactly what 
 we do," replied Geegee, "and you'll be breathing the 
 fresh Tibetan atmosphere in a few minutes." 
 
 "Lead on, then, Geegee," said G. W. "But cut 
 that wriggling process as much as you can. I am 
 not built like an eel or a snake." 
 
 They were just starting away down the dark pas- 
 sage, when sounds of a disturbance reached their ears 
 from the room above. 
 
 "Our old friends are having a bit of an argument 
 with the soldiers," chuckled C.H.J. , "but they'll go 
 where we were going just the same. Tibetans don't 
 lay too much stress on talky talky." 
 
 He closed the door overhead as he spoke, and cut- 
 ting the ladder as high up as he could reach standing 
 on Wun Lung's back, he signed that all was secure 
 against an attack from the rear, and in single file the 
 party then followed Geegee and Cash Bags. When 
 they neared the yak-hair curtain that covered the 
 mouth of the passage, the lamp was extinguished 
 and left behind, and then, as innocent-looking and 
 devout as pilgrims who had said many prayers at a 
 famous shrine, they one by one slipped through and 
 
The Oracle 267 
 
 fell into line among the crawling beings making to- 
 wards the exit of the outer temple. Soon they stood 
 beside the basket railway, and, leaving a last offering 
 in the shape of silver coins, they were immediately 
 after speeding down the incline in different baskets 
 among other returning worshippers. The bazaar was 
 now lit up with curiously wrought copper lamps, and 
 a great trade was being carried on between the mer- 
 chants and the pilgrims going forward in the morn- 
 ing in tsamba, chura, and ghur, 1 and in stone jars of 
 chokti — a particularly vile alcoholic drink — to cheer 
 them on their journey. 
 
 But no halt was made even to buy some katas 
 blessed by the Grand Lama of Changtse himself, and 
 offered cheap enough to tempt the most indifferent 
 pilgrim. They reached the pilgrims' rest-house in 
 time to take part in a prayer ceremony with their 
 fellow travellers in the house before a shrine con- 
 taining some curious-looking images, which one of 
 them carried with him, to ensure his always being 
 able to say his prayers before a god that gave full 
 value for them. A prayer or a turn of a prayer-wheel 
 has different values according to place and time, and 
 the owner of the shrine, a filthy old man from Lahoul 
 on the borders Of India, very kindly allowed all pre- 
 sent the great privilege of getting a few extra full- 
 value turns of their wheels crowded into the day. 
 
 Meanwhile G. W. — he didn't pray any more than 
 he could help— had rounded up a couple of the 
 Shokas, and while the Lama and the others attended 
 piously to the turning of their wheels, he and they 
 contrived to get some food cooked. 
 
 Time was now precious, for they did not know 
 when the Gyalpo might send for the secret agents, 
 
 1 Candy. 
 
268 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 and thus cause a search to begin, which might end 
 too soon for their convenience; so, when acting under 
 G. W.'s instructions, one of the Shokas announced 
 that tea was being given free to all, and the wor- 
 shippers hastily rushed up to participate in this 
 unheard-of treat, Mac seized the ugly and dirty group 
 of images and threw it behind some bales of wool 
 lying near. " I don't want to be praying all night," 
 he muttered, "and we can't afford to stop if the others 
 keep at it." 
 
 While with much lamentation the worshippers 
 searched for the shrine, to renew their devotions after 
 having partaken of G. W.'s hospitality, the sham 
 pilgrims partook of a hasty meal, packed up a light 
 load for each man, and glided unobtrusively out into 
 the street. They owed nothing, as everything in 
 pilgrims' rests is always paid in advance. Pilgrims 
 are usually so wrapped up in prayerful meditation that 
 the very mundane habit of paying bills escapes their 
 memory. The two Shokas were told to await the 
 return of their comrades, and then to come on with 
 the horses and the caravan as swiftly as possible. 
 
 "It seems to me we are the champion night 
 marchers of this part of the world," G. W. remarked 
 when after much skilful engineering they got clear 
 of the city. "I guess a good honest sleep would 
 be such a luxury that, if we got it, we wouldn't 
 know what to do with it." 
 
 "You are always either wanting something to eat 
 or looking forward to a sleep," Mac said reprovingly; 
 "but if we make fair headway, and are not trans- 
 migrated meanwhile, you'll get your next sleep in 
 a place where people who go sleep a long time." 
 
 "You mean the Tope, Mac?" said the Lama. 
 "Can we make that before stopping?" 
 
The Oracle 269 
 
 " What on earth is a tope?" demanded G. W. 
 "And what has it to do with sleep?" 
 
 " It is a tomb, and, if all stories are true, this par- 
 ticular one belongs to Buddha." 
 
 "Buddha? Great ghosts! How many tombs has 
 the fellow got?" 
 
 " A good number," Mac said thoughtfully. " You 
 see he has been re-incarnated a lot of times, and the 
 people who live about here are so accomplished in a 
 certain line that no boiler could keep a steam siren 
 working in their throats, had they one there, for the 
 same purpose as you have a bell " 
 
 " We're caught after all," cried Cash Bags. " Here 
 comes a troop of horsemen! I hear the hoof -beats." 
 
 " And, by gosh ! they are galloping as if the Missis- 
 sippi was freezing behind them," said G. W. " Now 
 we'll get a real honest fight." 
 
 " No, you won't," said the Lama. " Get off the road 
 and hide behind these tree stumps." 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 The Brigand Chief 
 
 "Look here, boys," said G. W., as they moved off 
 the road, " I don't see the use of all this hiding busi- 
 ness. If we are to clear out for every little pilgrim 
 band that comes along, what in thunder will we do 
 when we get into the thick of the circus in Lhasa?" 
 
 "Make ourselves smaller than ever," answered the 
 Lama. "We must work with brains, not with force." 
 
 " Gosh,. Lama, you don't mean it! Where are we 
 to get them?" 
 
 "Speak for yourself, my man," Mac grunted. 
 "We're not all so sadly deficient in thinking ma- 
 chinery " 
 
 "You are right, Mac. I forgot we had Geegee 
 and Cash Bags with us. They'll pull us out of any 
 hole we tumble into. But if I weren't a peaceable, 
 law-abiding, free-thinking, truth-loving, black-skinned 
 pilgrim, I would stretch a rope across this road while 
 I had time, and bring these tricky Tibetans up with a 
 jerk that would shake out their false teeth." 
 
 "Which would be very foolish on your part," the 
 Lama said. " Possibly we might fight them success- 
 fully, but, even if we did so, we would be known, and 
 the news that foreigners disguised as pilgrims were 
 on their way to Lhasa would be advertised through- 
 out the length and breadth of Tibet before two sun- 
 
 270 
 
The Brigand Chief 271 
 
 rises. The force under Colonel Younghusband and 
 Macdonald can do that sort of work, but to us is 
 entrusted business that cannot be carried through in 
 such fashion." 
 
 " Om Mani Padmi Hum, Lama. I thought we 
 might pretend to be road agents — I mean bush- 
 rangers — no, I mean brigands," G. W. said. " And 
 I was of opinion anyway that our little business was 
 pretty well known all over the country already. If 
 it isn't, I guess I'll start an advertising agency in 
 Lhasa, for there must be plenty of room and oppor- 
 tunity for one with a modern New York education in 
 that line " 
 
 ' ' Tie up that perpetual clapper of yours, and get in 
 behind a tree," broke- in C.H.J, savagely. "They'll 
 hear you." 
 
 ' ' And the people of Tibet don't yet know of our 
 presence in the country," added the Lama. " The 
 Chinese officials will, for purposes of their own, keep 
 the fact secret as long as possible. Of course every- 
 thing is bound to be known when the secret agents 
 tell their story, or rather, when they get the chance 
 to tell it." 
 
 The riders were now rapidly drawing near, and a 
 few minutes later they thundered past without so much 
 as looking to either right or left. There were about a 
 dozen of them. 
 
 "By thunder! they are in a hurry," G. W. com- 
 mented as they stepped out into the roadway. 
 "They'll knock out their horses very soon at that 
 rate. I suppose they are hurrying up to help to 
 defend Lhasa against the British force?" 
 
 "No," said the Lama, "they don't think for a 
 moment that any British force can ever get near 
 Lhasa. That is the Dalai Lama's mail, and for 
 
272 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 speed it compares favourably with the mail service 
 of many countries where steam locomotives are at 
 the command of the post office." 
 
 "Ring your bell, Lama. You can't fool me into 
 believing that yarn. I know something about horse- 
 flesh and what it can do, but I'll bet a kick at the 
 Dalai Lama that those horses will not carry mails 
 nor anything else another ten miles, if they are not 
 handled better than they are now." 
 
 " They have only twenty-mile stages, G. W. They 
 travel fast because of that, and then hand over the 
 mails to another troop, who take them on to the next 
 mail change. The time allowed for the stage is two 
 hours ; therefore, in a day, mails are carried two hun- 
 dred and forty miles. From here to Peking that mail 
 service extends, and most probably the authorities in 
 the Chinese capital already know more about us and 
 our work than we know ourselves." 
 
 " But isn't it a waste of good horses and men for a 
 crowd like that to go together? One would think they 
 were in the '49 days in California, and had to fight 
 the road agents to get through." 
 
 "And so they have," put in C.H.J. "That is 
 exactly why they ride in numbers. Men and horses 
 are cheap in China and Tibet, and brigands are 
 plentiful. We'll likely have to pay toll ourselves 
 before we get to Lhasa." 
 
 "By gosh! that's good. I lost my prayer-wheel 
 somewhere, and I'll be able to steal some of theirs." 
 
 "Comrades," broke in Wun Lung, who had been 
 unusually silent, "we are Buddhists just now. It is 
 a noble faith if put into practice. Let us therefore 
 march in silence, and meditate on the mysterious 
 workings of Providence, as the great Prince Gautama 
 did himself." 
 
The Brigand Chief 273 
 
 "Listen to the missionary," laughed G. W., who 
 was as talkative that night as Wun Lung was the 
 reverse. "He'll be thinking we're straight out-and- 
 out pilgrims directly." 
 
 "So we are," growled Mac. "We don't wish 
 to throw any disrespect on the religion that about a 
 third of the world's population thinks good enough 
 for it, and the more we conform in reality, the more 
 hope we have of success. Take an example of Geegee 
 and Cash Bags. They are not wasting their wind in 
 pitching words out on the cool night air." 
 
 "Shut up yourself, old Socrates!" cried G. W. 
 "You've been talking all night like a cheap phono- 
 graph. What do you say, Geegee?" 
 
 " I hear more horsemen coming up behind," the 
 lad answered. " There seems to be a second despatch 
 of mails to-night." 
 
 "And we have no time to hide," added G. W. 
 "They are just on us. Shall we lie down and turn 
 our prayer-wheels, Lama, or get out our guns?" 
 
 "Neither. We are peaceable pilgrims, and have 
 no reason to fear anyone. Remember your parts, 
 boys. This may or may not be a deep-laid affair." 
 
 The second troop of riders came up, and with prayer- 
 wheels in hands, and the most devout expressions on 
 their faces they could command upon short notice, the 
 party split into two, to allow the riders to pass through 
 in the middle of the road. 
 
 But they did not seem in a hurry to do so; instead, 
 they slowed down, and on coming up to the pilgrims 
 dropped into a walk. 
 
 "Hail, brothers! you are surely over-zealous when 
 you travel by night," the leader cried in the Tibetan 
 tongue. 
 
 "We come from the land which lies far towards 
 
 (09) 18 
 
274 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 the setting sun," C.H.J, replied. "We like not the 
 heat of the sun by day, and as there is still a moon 
 we walk and pray by its light. It is more suitable for 
 a contemplative mind." 
 
 "True, but are you not afraid of brigands?" said 
 the Tibetan. "We might have been Pola Lee Tang 
 and his men, and then you would have lost all your 
 money." 
 
 "Alas! we are poor pilgrims, and not worth the 
 attention of brigands," C. H. J. again answered. 
 "What brings you brave soldiers out to-night?" 
 
 " We ride after the Imperial Mail. Important com- 
 munications have gone forth from Changtse for Lhasa 
 and Peking to-night, and it is feared that Pola Lee 
 Tang may intercept them. Has the mail long gone 
 by?" 
 
 "The dust from the horses' hoofs has not yet 
 settled. You will overtake them easily. Have you 
 any of the outer world's news to impart to poor pil- 
 grims?" 
 
 "Not much of interest. Nippon is proving more 
 than the master of the great white Czar's forces, and 
 a battle has been fought between our people and yours 
 at Gyangtse." 
 
 "Alas that our masters and yours should fight on 
 this sacred ground ! Which side did the god of battle 
 favour?" 
 
 "Oh, our people stopped fighting when prayer 
 time came round. We have no masters. It is you 
 only who have masters. The British will never see 
 Lhasa, for a trap has been prepared for them when 
 they cross the Tsangpo." 
 
 "Then the foreign dogs stole the victory from the 
 faithful-for-ever people?" 
 
 "Our people did not understand their ways; but 
 
The Brigand Chief 275 
 
 wait and see the next fight. There are some foreign 
 devils near here just now, too. It is because of them 
 as much as of the brigands that we ride through the 
 night. Have you seen any suspicious-looking pil- 
 grims during your journey? They were caught to- 
 day, and the mail bears the news to the Dalai Lama." 
 
 " Then why trouble any more about them? If they 
 are in your people's hands surely you know what to 
 do with them?" 
 
 " Oh yes, the Gyalpo had the rack ready for stretch- 
 ing their bones, but the ungrateful dogs have escaped, 
 and we ride to overtake the mail, so that Lhasa may 
 know and cause all people to look for them." 
 
 "But the people will be needed to fight the 
 British?" 
 
 "You are a very ignorant pilgrim. Why should 
 our people fight until the lost eye of our blessed war 
 god is restored? When he sees again we shall sweep 
 the British far beyond the snows into the world of 
 waters and darkness, which lies even more distant. 
 The white Czar's armies shall be driven back into 
 their desert of black tempests, and those who call 
 themselves our masters will learn that the Dalai 
 Lama's virtues are as much superior to their Em- 
 peror's as ours are to yours." 
 
 "Truly you are a great and virtuous people, and 
 we shall pray that the foreign devils may soon get 
 the fate they deserve. Will you have some buttered 
 tsamba?" 
 
 " No, we have no time to tarry longer. You follow 
 on and you will get safely past Pola Lee Tang. He 
 will be afraid to come near the road while we are 
 at hand." 
 
 " The light of wisdom be with you." The pilgrims 
 and the ragged, unkempt and unwashed, yet kindly- 
 
276 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 hearted troopers put out their tongues, and after this 
 eloquent though silent salutation had been exchanged, 
 the latter rode swiftly ahead, and C.H.J, and Mac ex- 
 plained to the others the nature of the conversation 
 which had taken place. Geegee had also carried on 
 a friendly chat with one of the Tibetans who could 
 speak a kind of Hindustani, but apparently it had 
 been of no importance, as he did not retail it to his 
 comrades. 
 
 " Om Mani Padmi Hum" ejaculated G. W. when 
 he knew everything. "So the British have swiped 
 the dirty beggars at Gyangtse, wherever that is, but 
 are to be trapped later on. And some sham pilgrims 
 have been going about the country of late! I wonder 
 who they could have been? By gosh! Lama, we should 
 have stopped the second crowd of troopers, for if they 
 lost their mail bags the first lot would go on, and the 
 powers that govern this prayerful country would not 
 worry any more about us, for the first mail says we've 
 been caught." 
 
 "And it is just possible we will be caught yet," 
 said Mac. " Remember what was said about Pola 
 Lee Tang and his merry men." 
 
 " I think I have met that gentleman before," put in 
 Wun Lung; "he was a mandarin in Sinning Foo, 
 but got into trouble with the law, or rather the 
 Dowager Empress, about something, and so shifted 
 farther west, and it seems has turned his hand to 
 what he would term honest work. I wonder if it 
 can be the same man." 
 
 "Don't trouble introducing him, if he is," said 
 Mac. " We are vera particular of the company we 
 keep in this crowd." 
 
 "Oh, he is a thorough gentleman in his own way 
 and highly accomplished," Wun Lung laughed; "but 
 
The Brigand Chief 277 
 
 his ways are not our ways, and I earnestly hope we 
 won't meet him. He is over seven feet in height, and 
 proportionately built." 
 
 Nothing startling was experienced during the rest 
 of the night, and good progress was made until dawn 
 tinted the sky a deep crimson. Then it was time to 
 halt, for they had made a good ' ' march " from Changtse, 
 and were now liable to stumble across the camps of 
 pilgrims who had left the day before, and who, if they 
 had heard of the sham pilgrims from the troopers, 
 might prove troublesome. But Mac and the Lama 
 seemed pleased when they saw their surroundings. 
 A huge artificial mound lay some distance to the 
 left of the road, and to this the Lama led the way. 
 
 "This is the tope I was telling you of, G. W.," 
 Mac announced. "You may sleep safely inside it 
 until our Shokas come along, for no Tibetan will 
 come any nearer that tope than the road for all the 
 chokti between here and India." 
 
 " Why not, if it is only one of these Towers of 
 Silence, or dead houses, like what one sees in Bom- 
 bay?" 
 
 "No, it is just an ordinary tomb, but I'll bet a 
 lump of buttered tsamba that no body of anyone 
 ever rested inside. It was probably built to hold 
 a shrine originally, but when a thousand years, or 
 maybe a couple of thousand, had passed, people 
 forgot it was only a shrine and imagined it was 
 Buddha himself who was planted there — some folk 
 have vera short memories, you know — and now that 
 is common belief." 
 
 "Then why don't the pilgrims visit it and crawl 
 round about it and turn their prayer-wheels?" Cash 
 Bags enquired. "I thought they wouldn't miss a 
 chance like this of saying a few prayers." 
 
278 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 "Well, Cash Bags," said Mac, "I'm no' so well 
 versed in Tibetan history and customs as our friend 
 C.H.J, and maybe the Lama, but as it seems none of 
 these two are inclined to fling out chunks of know- 
 ledge at present, I'll have to answer as well as I can, 
 and this is the story. There are a lot of demons 
 watching every chance to interfere with a fellow's 
 re-incarnation, according to the people hereabouts, 
 and sometimes they succeed in spoiling what other- 
 wise might have been a very successful operation. 
 Well, they did their best with Prince Gautama, the 
 originator of Buddhism, too, as a matter of course, 
 and even succeeded- in their wicked ways for a long 
 time. History is no' vera clear on the subject, and 
 I don't know that what I'm telling you would be 
 allowed as evidence in a British court of law. Any- 
 how, Buddha, if my information is correct, and my 
 memory no' playing me tricks, had a bad time of 
 it in his various re-incarnations, thanks to these de- 
 mons. He seems to have wandered about in China 
 a good deal, and some people say in Japan as well, 
 but it was not until he had been fighting for a hand- 
 ful of centuries, more or less, that he mastered these 
 spirits and appeared in China in the shape that we see 
 him- represented in all the images, squatting, with legs 
 crossed and hands resting in each other, palms out- 
 ward. There he became a very much materialized 
 being once more, and — but it is Wun Lung who 
 should be telling you all this. He has studied Chi- 
 nese history, and I haven't." 
 
 "Nevertheless, Mac," said Wun Lung, "you have 
 a way of imparting information that is beyond my 
 powers, and I fear that not even Cash Bags would 
 listen to me were I to begin to expound Buddhism. 
 This much I will say, though. The people who live 
 
The Brigand Chief 279 
 
 near Mount Omi in China even now assert that, when 
 occasionally the mist curtain is lifted from the top of 
 the mountain, the figure of Buddha is disclosed in 
 his usual attitude, a glorious aureole surrounding 
 him and blending off into the air in delicate and 
 exquisite rings of colour, beside which the rainbow 
 would appear dull indeed. He certafnly is beloved 
 in China, and appears to have made his home there 
 long before he became associated with Tibet. Go on 
 with your own story now, Mac " 
 
 "And keep your mind on the fact that it is this 
 particular tope we're coming to that is subject, predi- 
 cate, and object of your discourse," observed G.W. ; 
 " but go on till your bell rings. I like to know things 
 myself, and Geegee and Cash Bags are drinking in 
 the yarn with their mouths." 
 
 "Well, there is no record of him in Tibet until 
 King Srong Tsan Gumpo came along. He didn't 
 know much about anything, except fighting, and 
 he went for China much the same as strong young 
 virile powers go for older and perhaps effete powers 
 now. He built Lhasa in the years between 640 a.d. 
 and his death. 
 
 "A hundred years afterwards he was re-incarnated 
 in King Kir Song de Tsan, a very good man, and 
 as pious as he was illustrious. In time he died, and 
 little stands out in Tibetan history until, about forty 
 years before the Norman Conquest of England, a fel- 
 low called Atisha came over from India, and was such 
 a good and clever man that he became the chief priest 
 in Lhasa and founded Lamaism. 
 
 " He went the way of all mankind, and for over 
 three hundred years afterwards monasteries increased 
 in number and lamas multiplied exceedingly. The 
 great Mogul Emperor Kubla Khan, whom I expect 
 
a8o Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 you've read of, Geegee, was crowned by the chief 
 priest in his time as emperor of the widest and most 
 populous domain the world has ever seen, and in re- 
 turn he made his crowner the first Grand Lama. 
 
 "Years pass again, and the Mongol dynasty of 
 China became blotted out. At this time the fifth 
 Grand Lama bossed things as priest and king in 
 Tibet. He was also a clever man, but as to his 
 holiness I'll make no statement. He discovered a 
 book of ' revelations ' which told him that all the 
 people I have named from King Srong Tsan 
 Gumpo downwards, and all. the Grand Lamas, were 
 re-incarnations of Buddha, and that henceforth every 
 Dalai Lama would be the same. He was the first 
 to term himself the Dalai Lama — I don't know what it 
 means " 
 
 "It is Mongolian, meaning 'Vast as the Ocean'," 
 put in Wun Lung. 
 
 "You have already been told all the rest by our 
 own Lama and Wun Lung. There never was a 
 Dalai Lama of an age to rule since his time: China 
 saw to that, and the story of the eye of the war god 
 explains much not yet known to students of history 
 in Europe and elsewhere." 
 
 "That is all mighty fine, Mac," said G.W. after a 
 brief silence, "but here we are at this big molehill of 
 a thing and your story hasn't dealt with it at all." 
 
 "Surely you can fill that in, G. W.," the Lama 
 said. ' ' Your imagination is fertile enough to give 
 it a far more interesting history than the real story." 
 
 "That's all very well when I'm spouting the story, 
 Lama, but I like to get the genuine article myself, 
 and add the flourishes when I am retelling it." 
 
 " The story is simply that one of the Dalai Lamas, 
 or the Gyalpo on his behalf, summoned all the demons 
 
The Brigand Chief 281 
 
 to appear before him, and then consigned them to this 
 tope to dwell for ever. Of course they are powerless 
 to work more mischief, for the tomb of Buddha casts 
 its enchanting spell over them. But woe to the mor- 
 tal who dares invade its sacred shrine. The demons 
 will take possession of him, and it were better far had 
 he never been born." It was the Lama who volun- 
 teered the information, for Mac had gone ahead of the 
 party to examine the strange edifice, and everyone's 
 interest now became centred in it also. It was a large 
 dome-shaped structure with a small platform on top. 
 Possibly its diameter was about two hundred feet, and 
 its height about the same. It was built of carefully 
 dressed stones, but the ravages of time had removed 
 all evidences of smoothness, and even the sacred in- 
 scriptions that were sculptured out on many of the 
 larger blocks could only be deciphered with difficulty. 
 
 For a full minute all looked at the hoary old build- 
 ing in silence. Geegee was wondering how many, if 
 any, works of our present-day builders would be stand- 
 ing two thousand four hundred years hence, the age, 
 the Lama said, of the tope. As usual it was G. W. 
 who first formed his impressions, and he expressed 
 them in words which, although not full of the poetical 
 imagery of the East, was wonderfully accurate in de- 
 scriptive power. 
 
 "Why, it is just a big upturned bowl!" he ex- 
 claimed. " I suppose the road in is through that fiat 
 bit on the top it ought to be sitting on?" 
 
 "You are a most marvellous man, G. W.," said 
 Mac. "Sherlock Holmes could never have guessed 
 that much. But watch your feet in climbing that 
 rough stairway. The Board of Trade wouldn't pass 
 it as safe, I'm thinking." 
 
 "Anything for a quiet life and a good sleep," 
 
282 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 murmured the American irrelevantly, as he followed 
 the others up a series of steps, which circled round 
 the erection like a spiral before reaching the platform 
 on top. Means of admission were here found in a 
 pivoted slab, which, when swung open by Mac, dis- 
 closed another flight of stone stairs leading down into 
 the gloomy depths of the tomb. Mac lit a matph and 
 led the way into the cavernous darkness. Down, 
 down, ever circling yet surely descending, they 
 groped until at length they found themselves in a 
 chamber, which they knew could not be far from the 
 level of the country outside. Strangely enough, the 
 air was wholesome and cool. Mac now lighted a 
 candle and held it aloft, and by its light the party 
 surveyed their surroundings. They were in a hall, 
 as fresh looking as if it had been built but a year or 
 so before. In niches all round the walls were quaintly 
 carved images, and on the walls themselves, between 
 these recesses, were many inscriptions in Chinese 
 characters which puzzled even Wun Lung to read. 
 
 But what surprised all most was the presence. of 
 numerous cases, and sacks, which certainly were of 
 very modern origin; these were littered about the 
 floor in one end of the room, and comprised bags of 
 tsamba, jars of chokti, and bundles of tea-bricks, as 
 well as sundry sacks the contents of which were not 
 investigated. 
 
 "I suppose this stuff is put here regularly to feed 
 the hungry spirits?" observed G. W. "They must 
 be gluttons if they go for all that is here inside the 
 next ten years." 
 
 " I never heard of the spirits being fed," the Lama 
 said thoughtfully ; ' ' but this may be the result of a 
 new revelation the Grand Lama of Changtse may 
 have had expounded to him." 
 
The Brigand Chief 283 
 
 "I don't know what it means myself," Mac said, 
 " but anyhow we're here and safe, and we may sleep 
 or rest until the Shokas come up." 
 
 "And as they can't be here much before nightfall 
 we need not watch for them until the afternoon," said 
 the Lama, and soon after the various members of the 
 party stretched ' themselves out behind the cases and 
 sacks and went to sleep; they were very tired, and 
 knew that their journey had to be resumed at night. 
 
 And the sun rose higher and higher and at length 
 passed the meridian ; inside the dark and silent tope 
 time had been forgotten ; all slept. 
 
 Geegee was the first to awake, and he sat up 
 wonderingly and gazed around. His comrades were 
 beside him exactly as they had lain down. He re- 
 membered they had camped in a reputed Buddha's 
 tomb, supposed to be the home of many demons. 
 He rubbed his eyes. He did not knqjv that demons 
 wore top boots, purple robes, and pigtails, nor had 
 he previously been aware that they smoked pipes and 
 carried matchlock rifles. Yet there they were, about 
 a score of them, all reclining on sheepskin cloaks 
 spread round the floor beyond the barrier of sacks 
 and bales. A soft light emanating from a couple 
 of wrought-copper lamps rendered them barely dis- 
 cernible. They formed a circle, and in the middle 
 a demon of gigantic proportions sat upright, glancing 
 through some elaborately sealed documents he had 
 emptied from a saddle wallet lying beside him. 
 Their contents seemed to amuse him somewhat, for 
 a smile played over his mobile but distinctly Chinese 
 features. He, unlike his satellites, wore garments 
 of blue silk, but a yellow mantle or cloak covered 
 them, and a creature somewhat resembling a lion 
 with a long dragon's tail was vividly stained and 
 
284 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 embroidered thereon. A string of turquoise gems, 
 alternating with pearl and coral pendants, hung from 
 his neck in a long glittering chain, and wherever 
 possible on his person gold and jewelled ornamenta- 
 tions were lavishly displayed. 
 
 Geegee stared at this extravagantly dressed demon 
 in slowly comprehending astonishment. He was 
 now so accustomed to strange happenings that his 
 reasoning powers were not long paralysed, and swiftly 
 they came to his aid. He was looking at Pola Lee 
 Tang and his brigands. They had intercepted the 
 second mail riders, and the gigantic Pola himself 
 was now making himself acquainted with their dis- 
 patches. What the fate of the light-hearted riders 
 had been Geegee could only conjecture, but he could 
 not even guess how the brigands had gained access 
 to the tomb — evidently a regular haunt of theirs — 
 without rousing his companions. He reached out 
 his hand to awake the Lama, then drew it back with- 
 out having touched him, the gaudily bedecked giant 
 had stretched himself out as if to sleep, and it had 
 suddenly dawned upon Geegee that the others were 
 already sleeping. A faint subtle aroma which per- 
 vaded the soporific air of the chamber explained 
 much to the lad; the men were under the influence 
 of opium, and it was that drug they had been 
 smoking. Like a flash the idea came to Geegee of 
 rendering the gang powerless. He Would wait until 
 the tall leader was asleep and then steal their rifles. 
 After that he would wake his comrades and let them 
 decide upon future actions. There was no immediate 
 danger; whereas if he woke up the others at once, 
 matters might be precipitated by the impetuosity of 
 some of them. 
 
 Geegee had already taken upon himself a great 
 
DLOF EM QUICKLY OL I DLOPY YOU 
 
The Brigand Chief 285 
 
 share of responsibility. He knew the Lama was 
 worried greatly over the fact that they had not been 
 able to shake off the secret agents, and realized that 
 it would be difficult to get into Lhasa if the people 
 there knew that they were still at large, and might 
 approach the city at any time. He knew too that 
 G. W., Mac, and C. H. J. favoured a bold and reck- 
 less policy of action, and that only Wun Lung 
 believed with the Lama that a slower and more 
 carefully arranged system was more likely to prove 
 successful. Well, he would remove the rifles of the 
 brigands himself, and then it would not matter much 
 whether they passed through their sleeping forms or 
 stayed and risked results. 
 
 The tall mandarin was now asleep, and the deep 
 breathing and sundry sighs and groans of his men 
 showed that they were also wandering in the delight- 
 ful or horrible fields of dreamland, fast in a sleep 
 induced by the subtle drug. He waited for some 
 time to make certain of this, and then in his stock- 
 inged feet stole out from among the packs of mer- 
 chandise, the meaning of which was now clear, and 
 approached the slumbering circle. He experienced 
 a strange sensation of elation, as he stepped over 
 the unconscious bundles of humanity, and lifted the 
 cumbrous firearms from their sides, but this feeling 
 was rudely changed when a voice suddenly called 
 out behind him: "Why you steal? Genlemen no' 
 steal flom one anodel. Dlop 'em quickly ol I dlopy 
 you." 
 
 Geegee swung round and faced the speaker; it 
 was the leader himself. He was sitting on a rug 
 and toying carelessly with a gold-mounted revolver. 
 His not unhandsome face was expressionless. For 
 a moment Geegee thought of rushing at him and 
 
286 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 bearing him down before he could get on his feet. 
 But he dismissed that idea as impracticable for two 
 reasons. One was that Pola Lee Tang was keeping 
 him covered with his weapon, and probably would 
 not miss him when he fired, and the other was the 
 knowledge that it would need the strength of several 
 men to keep the giant on the ground, even after he 
 was laid in a horizontal position. 
 
 "Come hele," continued the brigand, noting 
 Geegee's indecision with a smile. " I will not eaty 
 you." 
 
 Geegee moved towards him, still clutching his 
 rifles. He was watching for the slightest chance of 
 catching the huge Chinaman off his guard. At 
 length he stood before him, trying to edge his 
 revolver from his pocket under cover of his armful 
 of matchlocks. 
 
 "How do? fine wedel we'll having," the big man 
 then remarked in English, perfect but for the fatal 
 "r". "Will you tly a cigalette; they vely fine?" 
 
 "Thank you, but I don't smoke," Geegee answered 
 in Hindustani, at which the Chinaman's smile broad- 
 ened into a laugh. 
 
 "I no' savvy that lingo," he said. "Why not 
 speaky youl own English, vely good lingo — — " 
 
 "I do not understand," Geegee again began in 
 Hindustani ; but the tall man, still sitting complacently 
 on his rug, interrupted with: " Little boys should not 
 tell lies. Why you flaid of me? Pola Lee Tang an 
 Englishman too. He no' hult you. He know all 
 about you. See this papel? It tell all about you 
 coming into the countly, and what you come fol; 
 I take him fiom mail lidels week ago." He held 
 up a formidable -looking document, but as it Was 
 written in Chinese characters Geegee could make 
 
The Brigand Chief 287 
 
 nothing of it. Then the friendly disposed brigand 
 lifted another paper. "And see this one," he said, 
 " I take him flom mail to-night. I no' catchy filst 
 one, but I maky sule of secOnd. This tell me that 
 you have been caught in Changtse but have escape, 
 and it tell all people to be looky out fol you, Now 
 what you say?" 
 
 "I say you may do with me what you like, but 
 my comfrades will make you pay dearly." 
 
 "Ha! ha! Poly Lee Tang is a blave brigand. 
 What fo' should he make wal upon you? He no' 
 hult you. He say he know what you wanty hele, 
 and he say all light. His men sleep because he no' 
 tlust them too much. You flee to go " 
 
 '^What! You say I am free to go?" cried Gee- 
 gee greatly amazed. "And you know our object 
 here?" 
 
 " That is what I said. Poly Lee Tang and Gyalpo 
 in Lhasa no' fliends. He hang me if he catchy me. 
 I cut him upy if I catchy him. You an' me fight all 
 on one side. Blitain my countly allee same you. 
 Poly Lee Tang no Chinaman. He has been in 
 London." 
 
 "But you are just a common cutthroat!" burst 
 out Geegee. 
 
 " Why not?" asked the imperturbable one. " Lots 
 thloats bettel cut. But see, you have no time to lose 
 now. If you want save the Dalai Lama's life you 
 bettel get into Lhasa quickly. He vely good man, 
 but Gyalpo think it time anodel one come along, 
 and he means the Dalai Lama to die soon." 
 
 " But we have no business with the Dalai 
 Lama " 
 
 "You big fools you no' take business with him. 
 You cally moonstone eye?" 
 
288 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 "Who said that to you?" cried Geegee, on his 
 guard at once. 
 
 " Oh, Poly Lee Tang knows as much as anyone. 
 He findy out things his own way. You no' liky tell 
 me, all light. You telly me, all light. But you no' 
 gety that eye back, all upy with Dalai Lama. You 
 puty back the eye, the Dalai Lama is King himself 
 and he hang Gyalpo. No puty back, Gyalpo kill 
 him. You savvy me?" 
 
 " Perfectly. You are not friendly with the Gyalpo 
 at Lhasa, and being outlawed by your own country, 
 are disposed to help any scheme which may bring 
 about a revolution in the state of affairs?" 
 
 " You talky talky muchy about nothing. You go 
 on, I will catchy all mails that pass fo' Lhasa and 
 keep out evelything that mentions you. They not 
 know you coming. You do the tlick as the. Nechung- 
 Chos-Kyong said. Poly Lee Tang help." 
 
 "What is the Nechung-Chos-Kyong? And what 
 (fid he say?" 
 
 "You vely inquisitive boy, and vely ignolant. 
 The Nechung-Chos-Kyong is the gleat olacle at 
 Lhasa who telly who will be the next Dalai Lama, 
 and who will win if a fight come along. He say last 
 time, next Dalai Lama will be King too, and that 
 he will come flom ovel the snows. He will dlive out 
 all foleign devils, because he find lost eye of wal god. 
 Now Poly Lee Tang no' fool. He wanty help olacle 
 to bling light man along. He and many fliends in 
 Peking wanty see Blitain and Amelica thlow all odel 
 foleign devils out of China. Blitain and Amelica 
 not foleign devils, they no' taky land fol evely 
 missionaly killed like hoch hoch men, and no stealy 
 China like big Lussian fellows. But I wanty sleep 
 now; take this plesent flom me and go, youl fellows 
 
The Brigand Chief 289 
 
 coming along now." He pulled a jewelled button 
 from his cloak and pressed it into Geegee's hands. 
 "That makes you one of the Blodels of the Son of 
 Heaven, and it will take you safely thlough all 
 China." 
 
 "Thank you, Mr. Lee Tang," said Geegee, accept- 
 ing the gift. "What would you like of my posses- 
 sions as a memento?" 
 
 " Oh, I took that long ago. I taky likey fo' noise 
 box one of youl fellows have an' take it." 
 
 He produced^ mouth organ, which Geegee at once 
 recognized as one of Cash Bags's treasures. It was 
 clear now that Pola Lee Tang had known all along 
 of the presence of the sleeping pilgrim party, and it 
 certainly was proof of his desire to be friendly that 
 he had given his men opium, so as to make them 
 sleep and thus remain ignorant of what was going 
 on around them. 
 
 " You waky up youl fellows an' tell them get on 
 the move quickly. I will sleep now. Goodbye!" 
 The wonderful Celestial held out an enormous hand 
 and grasped Geegee's in a powerful grip. He then 
 coiled himself up on his costly rug, and apparently 
 was asleep at once. Geegee saw that the interview 
 was terminated, but he also knew that the sleep was 
 only assumed, when the recumbent giant suddenly 
 remarked: "Kindly puty back guns whele you gety 
 'em befole you go." 
 
 "Certainly," Geegee answered. "And I hope we 
 shall meet again somewhere. I had no idea brigands 
 were like you " 
 
 " We'll meet again ally light, but you may not 
 know it. Go away now quickly, an' don't let youl 
 fellows wake me upy." 
 
 The hint was sufficient, and after replacing the 
 (09) 19 
 
290 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 cumbrous weapons by their owners' sides, Geegee 
 rejoined his comrades, and at once awoke them. He 
 quickly enjoined silence on them all, pointing out the 
 sleeping brigands as good reason for this, and then 
 briefly explained to his astonished listeners the effect 
 of his conversation with Pola Lee Tang. 
 
 G. W. and even the Lama seemed inclined to force 
 another interview upon the dreaded brigand, but 
 Wun Lung objected strongly. "Leave him alone," 
 he advised. " You'll get nothing further out of him. 
 He'll only get angry if we try to enter into con- 
 versation. I know the nature of the Brotherhood 
 of the Son of Heaven. It is the strongest and most 
 far-reaching secret society in China, if not in the 
 whole world. The Emperor is its head, and its 
 numbers are more than the population of any 
 European state. If it is taking any hand in the 
 game we are playing, the side it is on must win." 
 
 "But how can it be on our side?" asked G. W. 
 "It is practically China we are fighting." 
 
 "No, G.W. There are over four hundred millions 
 of human beings comprised in the term Chinese, but 
 these are divided into sects more different from each 
 other than are the races of Europe. It is only one 
 or more of these divisions against which we are 
 contending; I have a shrewd guess that it is the 
 Dowager Empress and her party, and that the 
 Emperor himself is more desirous of having some 
 understanding with the progressive foreigners. In 
 fact, Lama, I believe I can now see some reasons 
 for the Younghusband mission coming into the 
 country." 
 
 "You must have powerful sight, then, Wun 
 Lung," laughed G. W., as they shouldered their 
 belongings and moved towards the stairway, keep- 
 
The Brigand Chief 291 
 
 ing as far as possible from the circle of slumbering 
 brigands, but closely watching them nevertheless. 
 "It seems to me that when we make the idol in 
 Lhasa see as well as you, that that will mean the 
 wiping out of the British force " 
 
 "You fellows talky talky too muchy," said a voice 
 reprovingly from the circle. "How you tinky I 
 can sleep?" 
 
 Thus admonished the party crept up the circling 
 stairway, and in time stood on the platform on the 
 roof. It was well on in the afternoon, and the sun's 
 rays beat down upon them fiercely. 
 
 "I see the Shokas," cried Cash Bags; "they are 
 coming along on the road behind that cloud of 
 dust." 
 
 Cash Bags was right. The Shokas were coming 
 towards them at a speed unusual with mixed teams 
 of goats and yaks. Hastily descending the outside 
 of the tope the Lama led the way to the road, where 
 they waited on the dauntless Shokas, who came up 
 almost as soon as themselves. 
 
 " The gates of Changtse are closed and no pilgrims 
 can now pass through," cried Nana Sing in his own 
 language. "The soldiers are going round the town, 
 and every pilgrim has to submit to a most searching 
 examination. The Gyalpo threatens to hang all the 
 pilgrims." 
 
 "And by Jupiter!" ejaculated G.W., "I have just 
 tumbled to the fact that the brigands will hang all 
 who come along not pilgrims. In fact, they and the 
 Sons of Heaven fraternity are engineering a little 
 revolution after the South American style, and the 
 Gyalpos may have short lives." 
 
 "And the Dalai Lama is the joint head of that 
 society with the very much domestically controlled 
 
292 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 Emperor of China," added Wun Lung. "Stirring 
 times are ahead." 
 
 "You are right, Wun Lung," said the Lama 
 thoughtfully, "and thanks to Geegee's interview 
 with Pola Lee Tang, we now know our duty. 
 China is in the throes of a great revolution at 
 present. The Dowager Empress, who has always 
 been more or less in league with Russia, rules things 
 with a high hand, but Kwangsu the Emperor — who 
 is no relation of hers — has seized the moment when 
 Russia has Japan on her hands to plot for his own 
 independence. We are really working for progres- 
 sive China and Tibet against old China and Russia. 
 The British force is the element calculated to sway the 
 balance." 
 
 "On to Lhasal" cried G. W. theatrically; "I 
 guessed I was cut out for an empire maker long ago. 
 Forward, Cash Bags ! G. W. will follow you or dye 
 — his skin again." 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 The Fight in the Dark 
 
 Day after day the caravan moved steadily eastwards, 
 through country ever changing in its aspect, as the 
 higher or lower altitudes were reached in crossing 
 mountain ranges, running at right angles to their 
 course. They kept to the main eastern road and 
 passed through several towns and villages, camping 
 in the "sarai" or travellers' rests whenever possible, 
 so as to become acquainted with habits and customs, 
 and mixing freely with the cheery and hospitable 
 Tibetans round the "khang" during the long even- 
 ings. The khang at first interested G. W. and 
 Geegee greatly, yet they dared not ask questions 
 for fear of showing an ignorance utterly inex- 
 cusable. But it did not take them long to master 
 its mysteries. It was a heating apparatus in the 
 shape of a large table, and round it the travellers 
 dined, smoked, and slept, without moving from the 
 position first taken up. A brazier of live charcoal 
 and powdered horse dung under the table produced 
 the heat, and heavy blankets surrounding the whole 
 transformed the enclosed space into an oven, wonder 
 fully efficient. 
 
 " I guess I'll introduce this incubator arrangement 
 into the States, if I ever see them again," G.W. con- 
 fided to Geegee one evening, as they enjoyed the 
 
294 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 pleasant warmth of the khang in a sarai attached to 
 a large monastery at the head of a mountain pass. 
 
 Geegee agreed that the khang was well worthy of 
 being adopted in the outer world under certain cir- 
 cumstances, but he doubted if English people or 
 Americans would suffer the dirt, which seemed a 
 necessary adjunct to the hanging blankets. 
 
 One day they journeyed through a meadow literally 
 carpeted with primroses, and the same evening their 
 road led them past waving patches of ripe juicy 
 black brambles. The seasons were certainly some- 
 what erratic, as ripe apples and cherries grew to- 
 gether in some of the sheltered valleys, and many 
 flowers which in the temperate zones flourished in 
 spring or in autumn here grew together. 
 
 But for the fierce wind storms that always seemed 
 to rage on the slopes of mountain ranges their pro- 
 gress would have been faster, but often a halt had to 
 be made in the most inconvenient places until the 
 violence of these storms abated. They were now 
 on the great plateau which lies north of the Brahma- 
 putra and about two hundred miles from Lhasa, ac- 
 cording to the Lama's calculations. Occasional bands 
 of liquorice diggers were passed, working in bleak and 
 barren-looking stretches of soil, and sometimes a borax 
 field would flank their track. 
 
 " Look here, Just So," said G.W. one day, as they 
 toiled over a high pass, "you and Wun Lung and 
 Mac are regular factories of knowledge; tell poor 
 ignorant Cash Bags, Geegee, and me — I don't say 
 C. H. J. and the natives, because the first probably 
 knows already, and the others don't want to know 
 — what is the meaning of this wind, and where 
 it comes from, and if there ever is a day it doesn't 
 blow a hurricane hereabouts?" 
 
The Fight in the Dark 295 
 
 The Lama looked at Mac and then at C.H.J, before 
 he replied. Mac grinned, and his comrade shook his 
 head deprecatingly. Evidently G.W.'s question was 
 one that had an answer. 
 
 "You will understand very soon the meaning 
 of the wind, G. W.," the Lama then answered. 
 "Where it comes from is not known to me, nor, I 
 suppose, to any but wandering shepherds. Some 
 of these once told me that far to the north, towards 
 the Siberian boundary, rises a mighty mountain 
 chain, some of whose peaks are higher than Mount 
 Everest. The wind comes from that direction any- 
 way. Unfortunately there are some days when it 
 does not blow a hurricane, and on these days it 
 means death to any man or beast who happens to 
 be on the higher slopes." 
 
 " Is that so, Lama? I suppose it must be pilgrims 
 you're talking of. They'll smell themselves when 
 there is no wind, and I guess that would about do 
 for any man. All the same I don't reckon this hill 
 has much to shout about. I know a little mound 
 in the States about thirty thousand feet high or so, 
 and as sure as any man gets to its top, it splits 
 open and swallows him, clothes and all." 
 
 "In this case," went on the Lama, "it is clouds 
 of carbonic acid gas emanating from the mountain 
 that proves fatal to whoever breathes it. Of course 
 the high winds dispel these clouds, but when the 
 wind falls they gather again." 
 
 "That's second turn to you," remarked G. W. 
 "I remember an experience I had which bears 
 out your story. I was shipwrecked on an island 
 'way down near the Philippines once, and it was 
 just alive with all kinds of reptiles and animals. 
 Well, they had been living on each other for so 
 
296 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 long that the sight of a man made them mad with 
 hunger, and they came for me in great style. I 
 had an important appointment up the nearest tree, 
 though, and after I had knifed two or three dozen 
 creatures that lived among its branches, and thrown 
 them down without making any difference to the 
 appetites of the squirming mass below, I saw it 
 would soon be all up with me if something didn't 
 happen soon; for already some kind of a brute with 
 big saw-like teeth was working its way through the 
 tree trunk. The tree was just about to topple over, 
 and they all had their mouths open ready for me 
 to step inside out of the cold, when — what do you 
 think happened?" 
 
 "Your bell rang, maybe?" hazarded Mac. 
 
 "You awoke?" said Geegee. 
 
 " To be continued in our next was appended?" 
 guessed Wun Lung. 
 
 "My, how sharp some of you fellows are!" the 
 narrator said sarcastically; "I guess your prayer- 
 wheels must be grindstones in disguise." 
 
 "Well, what did happen?" growled C.HJ. "Be 
 as truthful as you can." 
 
 G.W. glared round scornfully. "Some people, of 
 course, have no use for knowledge," he observed 
 pointedly, "and when any fellow tries to hammer 
 some enlightenment into their upper deck, the pro- 
 cess hurts so much that they get nasty — I've half a 
 mind not to tell you now." 
 
 "I didn't say anything; tell me," put in Cash 
 Bags. " What happened just when the animals were 
 about to eat you?" 
 
 "You're the only seeker after wisdom in the crowd, 
 Cash Bags," the American went on, "and because 
 of you I'll sprinkle the fact around on this stony 
 
The Fight in the Dark 297 
 
 ground. A shower of rain came on, and when the 
 first drops fell inside their open mouths, the poor 
 little pet lambs just fell in a heap without a word, 
 and died. You see, that rain was heavily impreg- 
 nated with carbonic acid gas ; and now that I remem- 
 ber, too, the wind was blowing from this direction." 
 
 "Marvellous!" murmured Mac, "most marvellous!" 
 
 "Not a bit, it was quite natural; the Lama hasn't 
 got the copyright of carbonic acid gas." 
 
 " I wasn't referring to the tale, G.W. ; it was your 
 brilliant gift that drew forth my exclamatory adjec- 
 tive of admiration." 
 
 G. W. glanced at Mac suspiciously, but the Scot 
 was abstractedly turning the cylinder of his prayer- 
 wheel, and apparently did not notice that he was 
 under observation. But G. W. was annoyed. He 
 did not see why the Lama's improbable tales should 
 pass unchallenged, and his efforts always be received 
 with expressed unbelief. "By gosh!" he muttered 
 to Cash Bags, "I'll surprise them some day; I'll tell 
 the truth." And with this dire threat he relapsed 
 into thoughtful silence, and fixed his eyes far ahead. 
 
 On and upwards the party pursued their course, 
 walking by the side of their horses, so as to make 
 their burdens as light as possible. 
 
 At length they reached the defile which formed 
 the pass, and as they entered its sheltered portals 
 a strange sight met their eyes. Skeletons of yaks, 
 goats, sheep, mules, horses, and even men lay in 
 heaps by the side of the track as far as they could 
 see, and overhead, a score of vultures circled in 
 long descending sweeps in a hideously suggestive 
 manner. 
 
 "Look, G.W.," the Lama remarked quietly, "these 
 bleaching bones bear testimony to the truth of what 
 
298 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 I told you. This pass is known as the valley of the 
 dead. The wind does not strike here, and you see 
 the result." 
 
 G.W. was silent for a moment, and his gaze wan- 
 dered from the gruesome vista of bones to the winged 
 carrion floating expectantly above. Incidentally he 
 also noticed that the Shokas had increased their pace 
 greatly, and were muttering many holy formulas, 
 calculated to ward off danger from evil spirits. 
 
 "Say, Lama, I again apologize to you," G.W. 
 said, after he had taken in everything. " Your stories 
 have got hard fact behind them, and mine are not 
 a patch on them. I guess I'll have to call in a 
 plumber or someone to see what is wrong with my 
 bell; it hasn't been working well since we struck 
 this country." 
 
 " In Tibet, the land of demons and mysteries, such 
 a bell as you have is not required, G.W.," the Lama 
 said with a smile. "Here truth is much stranger 
 than any fiction the mind of man can invent. But let 
 us hurry through this awful place." 
 
 "Just let me have one shot at that hoary-headed 
 old demon swooping down " 
 
 "No," cried C. H. J., seizing the American's re- 
 volver hand. "Are you mad, man? The rever- 
 beration of a single shot would bring down the 
 whole mountain about us. Pilgrims don't even 
 speak when passing through this gorge." 
 
 "Oh, Jemimah! You may as well plant me toes 
 up now as tell me to stop talking. I can't believe 
 that yarn anyhow. The hills are not jerry built." 
 
 "There are some tougher tales than that told by 
 pilgrims about the plateau we're coming to," broke in 
 Mac. " Have you ever heard of animals digging for 
 gold?" 
 
The Fight in the Dark 299 
 
 " Only man, Mac. Nothing else is so foolish." 
 
 "Well, I'll no' guarantee the story, but I'll tell you 
 what is generally believed by most people who travel 
 this way, and you'll see for yourself shortly what truth 
 there is in the tale. In Tibet, although mostly in the 
 higher mountain valleys, there lives a race of enor- 
 mous horned ants whose sole mission in life is to dig 
 for gold. They are not fighters themselves, but wher- 
 ever they are a regiment of horribly ferocious dogs 
 stand guard over them to protect them " 
 
 "Get out, Mac! stick to carbonic acid gas and I'll 
 believe you, but horned ant gold diggers with dogs 
 for mates is more than any white man can swallow." 
 
 "All the same every Tibetan traveller will tell you 
 something similar, and the story is as old as Buddha 
 himself. A fellow called Herodotus gave it to the 
 world in the shape of history, but of course he said 
 he had only heard the yarn from others, and wouldn't 
 hall-mark it." 
 
 " Herodotus?" G.W. mused. "Ah well, Mac, you 
 needn't believe anything he said. I knew him, he 
 lived next door to Higgins, and earned a living by 
 giving lessons to Congressmen, and they are as gifted 
 as some of your own M.P.'s in London in the art of 
 fabrication." 
 
 "The gentleman I named lived four hundred years 
 before our era," remarked Mac coldly. 
 
 " Do you say so?" cried G.W. unabashed. " Then 
 I guess he is old enough to know it's wrong to tell 
 lies. Why, he told me one that " 
 
 "Look! look!" cried Cash Bags excitedly, "there 
 are the horned ants working now, and I see heaps of 
 turned-up ground beside them." 
 
 They had just cleared the defile, and were now 
 about to descend to an extensive plain which stretched 
 
300 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 away in front as far as could be seen. About half a 
 mile on their left were the strange creatures to which 
 Cash Bags had drawn attention. And weird-like ob- 
 jects they looked, being about the size of a man, 
 entirely black, and squatted in the midst of their ex- 
 cavations. Swiftly and continuously a long curved 
 horn rose and fell in correspondence with a head 
 movement, and even at the distance it could be seen 
 that each time the horn buried itself in the ground 
 earth was thrown up. About a score of fierce Tibetan 
 dogs walked around among the miners, evidently 
 keeping guard over them." 
 
 Mac and the Lama laughed, as they beheld the exact 
 picture of what Mac had only a few minutes before 
 described. Wun Lung, Geegee, and Cash Bags 
 uttered exclamations of amazement, but C. H. J. and 
 G. W. were silent. The former of these two w as 
 not looking at the mining encampment, he was 
 gazing listlessly ahead, and G. W. was speechless 
 with astonishment and other emotions. 
 
 'This is a conspiracy," he at length cried; "you 
 have hypnotized me, Lama. I see now why I was 
 told of this beforehand; it was suggestive influence. 
 Oh, I will never tell another lie as long as " 
 
 "Hold hard, there," shouted Mac, "dinna make 
 rash statements. Let me explain " 
 
 "No good, old man. G.W. is a wreck now. No 
 one will ever believe him if he tells of this, and yet it 
 is far stranger than the greatest yarn I've ever sprung 
 even on diary writers. " 
 
 " Calm yourself," said the Lama. " All this is just 
 in keeping with the stories of demons and other things 
 prevalent in this country, it can be explained as easily 
 as was the dread spirit influence of the valley through 
 which we have just passed." 
 
The Fight in the Dark 301 
 
 " Carbonic acid gas can't cheat the eyesight, Lama. 
 I see these horned ants digging myself." 
 
 " Not a bit of it," said Mac. "You see men digging. 
 It is so cold on this wind-swept plain that they en- 
 velop themselves in huge black blankets. The Tibet 
 miner sits at his work always, and that horn is merely 
 his pick — antelope horn, you know, is almost as dur- 
 able in this kind of ground as steel, and much cheaper. 
 These dogs are the usual animals which one finds 
 everywhere in Tibet. And now you know the whole 
 story." 
 
 "And I'm not mesmerized after all?" cried G.W. 
 "Mac, old man, shake." 
 
 Mac shook, as also did the Lama, and the caravan 
 passed on. They had no time to visit the miners, 
 even had they the desire to do so. That evening they 
 camped on the cold desolate plateau, and all next day 
 continued to cross it, meeting several bands of pil- 
 grims and borax traders returning from Lhasa to 
 Changtse, Simla, and Leh. At night they reached a 
 river, which the Lama said was the outlet of some 
 wonderful spirit lakes far to the north, upon which 
 gods disported themselves, and which, if looked upon 
 by mortal eyes, would rise in tempestuous flood and 
 engulf the daring one. 
 
 "Well, I guess we are not having any flood busi- 
 ness to-day," G.W. observed, when the Lama had 
 imparted this information ; " but I am of opinion that 
 these gods are answerable for a lot. 
 
 "Remember," broke in the Lama, "that the 
 vaunted civilization of the West is but a veneer 
 compared with that of the East. And after all, it 
 is human nature to have gods in some form. You 
 have them too, but yours do not live, except while 
 on the stage or in the limelight. Their fame is 
 
302 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 fleeting, while those of the enchanting East live 
 while the memory of man exists " 
 
 "Just a wee bit cannier, Lama," Mac interrupted, 
 " Geegee takes you at your word, and it's vera diffi- 
 cult to grasp the exact shade of meaning you're 
 driving at." 
 
 "That's right, Mac, help me to go for the Lama. 
 He says Eastern civilization with its idols is ahead of 
 Western. Let us drown him in — in — what shall we 
 drown him in, Mac?" 
 
 "The magniloquent verbosity of our encyclo- 
 paedism concerning the gymnosophical idea of the 
 Mahabharata " 
 
 "The Gyalpo has got me, boys," gasped G. W. 
 " Tell them at home I died bravely." He dropped 
 to the ground and shuddered violently. 
 
 "Get up!" spoke Mac, bending over him, "I 
 haven't finished." 
 
 " No, thanks, old man, I'd rather remain dead." 
 
 "That's all right, but it's time for your re-incarna- 
 tion now. Get up, and be a man of sense after this." 
 
 "By the ghost of the Gyalpo I'll have a horrible 
 revenge some day," groaned G.W. rising. "What 
 man could stand on his feet when ' gymnosophical ' 
 and 'mahabharata* and other lumps of learning about 
 the same size were flung at him? Some day your 
 tongue will get kinked, Mac, and I swear I "will 
 stand by and laugh at you when that happens." 
 
 "Come back to where you started and begin over 
 again, Lama," said Wun Lung, as the camp was 
 erected, and everything made ready for night. "I 
 rather fancy I should like to argue some points with 
 you, just to see how your trained Oriental mind views 
 certain questions, which are the cause of much friction 
 among theologians in Europe and America — Why, 
 
The Fight in the Dark 303 
 
 what are you laughing at, Mac? And you too, 
 C. H. J.? Have I said anything wrong?" 
 
 " Blow me for a broken-down beach comber, but 
 I had clean forgotten that the Lama was a genuine 
 nigger," cried G. W. "That is why he fired up 
 about the gods. He must believe in them himself." 
 
 " Not any more than you do, G. W. I merely 
 endeavoured to point out that the gods of Europe 
 and America are only supreme for a brief space, 
 while those of the East retain their place for ever. 
 The one set are heroes of the football field or some 
 other sport, and while their prowess lasts they are the 
 people's idols, but when age impairs that, or another 
 man eclipses them, the fickle people dethrone their 
 god at once. Here the god once appointed " 
 
 " Om Mani Padmi Hum" muttered G. W. irrele- 
 vantly. ' ' Cash Bags, this is no place for us, we're 
 too young and innocent to understand this false doc- 
 trine. Hullo, Nana Sing, what is it?" 
 
 The chief of the Shokas had approached the group. 
 The Shokas' own fire was burning brightly a little 
 way off, and the horses, yaks, and goats were feeding 
 peacefully near, their bells tinkling musically. 
 
 " Big fort across river," Nana Sing said, addressing 
 all the party ; "it commands road with cannon. Bam- 
 boo bridge lead over river, and then road take up under 
 walls of fort." 
 
 "Yes," said the Lama. "What of that? Have 
 you seen or heard anything suspicious?" 
 
 " I not like some signals we see flash from fort to 
 monastery farther up river; I think some people sus- 
 pect we not good pilgrims. Big village just across 
 bridge. This night of devil dance, they too quiet for 
 please me. Sahibs watch to-night." 
 
 " By Jupiter, we shall," replied C.H.J. " We'll do 
 
304 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 more. I know what this thing means, boys ; we'll be 
 rushed to-night. Their supply of devils has played 
 out, and we are to make good the deficiency." 
 
 "That's vera comforting," said Mac. "How did 
 they get to know everything?" 
 
 " Mac, surely you don't need to ask such a ques- 
 tion? How do the lamas get to know everything? 
 How did the secret agents get in ahead of us at 
 Changtse? How did they best us at the Pass? — 
 But all that is not to the point. We're discovered, 
 that I'm certain; for this is the night of the new 
 moon, and we've got three hours before their per- 
 formance starts." 
 
 " In that case we'll dine," remarked the Lama. 
 " Of course we'll not be here when they come for 
 us; but meanwhile let us fortify ourselves against 
 hunger at least." 
 
 "You take it blamed coolly, Lama," G. W. said 
 admiringly. "What are your plans?" 
 
 "After supper we'll heap up our fires and leave 
 them burning. We'll then go down to the bridge 
 and hide there. When the lamas and soldiers come 
 for us we'll let them all cross, and then go over to 
 the other side ourselves." 
 
 " But what about our horses? We can't very well 
 hide them." 
 
 " No, we shall leave them here. They are not ours 
 in any case, and we could only use them for another 
 day at the most. We could not ride into Lhasa on 
 Government horses." 
 
 "But the yaks and goats, and our stores, sir?" 
 asked Geegee. "Are we to leave them also?" 
 
 "Yes, they have served our purpose; we are only 
 two days from the sacred city now, and we can carry 
 all our requirements for that time." 
 
The Fight in the Dark 305 
 
 "You seem to have everything cut and dried," 
 observed G. W. "Did you get a letter telling you 
 we would be attacked?" 
 
 ' ' No, but I never expected we should get through 
 without opposition. I am greatly surprised we have 
 got so far. I suspect we have to thank Mr. Pola Lee 
 Tang for that. He must have stopped all traffic 
 leaving Changtse." 
 
 "Couldn't we put up a decent fight on our own 
 account?" G. W. suggested, lifting the boiling coffee 
 from the fire. 
 
 "We could, but it would be very foolish to do so. 
 We might hold our own successfully, but then the 
 lamas and soldiers would know that we were not 
 ordinary pilgrims, and certainly after they had that 
 knowledge we should never be allowed to reach 
 Lhasa." 
 
 "Then you think we are not known now?" asked 
 Wun Lung, cutting up some cold meat, as coolly as 
 though he were hundreds of miles from any devil- 
 dancers. 
 
 "No, I don't think we are known yet," the Lama 
 answered, as all sat down on the ground to dine. 
 "Our old friends would not give the show away 
 for fear the lamas and the Brotherhood of the Son 
 of Heaven might actually help us. They would 
 simply give the Gyalpo the hint that we were not 
 to pass his village alive, and he is doing the rest. 
 The devil dance, of course, is merely an excuse 
 for getting us into their hands. The lamas as a 
 rule attend to all these theatrical performances them- 
 selves, for, although the devils are supposed to be 
 thrown from the highest point of the monastery into 
 the river when the play is over, that part of course 
 is only pretence. It wouldn't be in our case, how- 
 
 (09) 20 
 
306 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 ever — the Gyalpo would see to that — and the lamas 
 wouldn't object; for would not the pilgrims thus 
 set free from their earthly worries go straight to 
 Nirvana?" 
 
 "Where's that?" asked Cash Bags. "And why 
 should they go there?" 
 
 "Man, Cash Bags," said Mac, "I am glad to 
 see you enquiring after knowledge, but right sorry 
 to see you display such woeful ignorance. Nirvana 
 is the highest state to which a Buddhist can attain, 
 but he cannot reach that state until he leaves his 
 mortal life behind him. Any Buddhist dying on 
 pilgrimage at once finds himself with Buddha in 
 that blessed existence, hence pilgrims as a rule do 
 not fear death, but rather welcome it." 
 
 "And we've got to go to Lhasa first, Cash Bags," 
 added G. W. ' ' And after we transact our little 
 business there, and pay our respects to Mr. Dalai 
 Lama and all his friends, we may go on and call 
 on the poor little Emperor of China, if we can dodge 
 the Dowager by the palace back door." 
 
 "It will be easier dodging the devils than the 
 Dowager, I'm thinking," said Mac. "But let us 
 hurry, lads, there may be an early door at this per- 
 formance, and it is as well to be ready." 
 
 And ready they were soon after. The Lama ex- 
 plained matters to Nana Sing, who in turn made the 
 Shokas acquainted with their duties, and in a re- 
 markably short space of time the necessaries for 
 the remainder of the journey were made ready and 
 divided among the Shokas. Then the fires were 
 heaped high with light inflammable scrub, and with 
 revolvers and knives in readiness, the party moved 
 silently down towards the bridge. The night was 
 the darkest Geegee had ever experienced, and, filled 
 
The Fight in the Dark 307 
 
 with the thrill of impending adventure, he groped his 
 way along with the others, and in time they reached 
 the bambo bridge, beneath which the river roared 
 and rumbled on its way towards the Brahmaputra. 
 
 The lights of the jong, the gompa, and the village 
 could now be seen, and by their aid an estimate 
 formed as to the size and importance of the place. 
 The jong crowned one peak that reared itself high 
 into cloudland, and opposite it on another ridge 
 the gompa was built. The village evidently lay in 
 the extremely narrow pass between, and the road 
 also lay through the defile. Judging by the lights, 
 the monastery was a very large one, and the Lama 
 gave it as his opinion that at least five thousand 
 lamas lived and worked therein. The fort was not 
 so lavish in its pyrotechnic display, the few lights 
 that shone on its frowning heights serving only to 
 emphasize the gloom of the rocks beneath its walls. 
 As for the village, it seemed to consist of only a few 
 houses, for it was almost in complete darkness. 
 
 "No force could ever pass through that defile," 
 the Lama said to the others, as they stood by the 
 quaint cane-interlaced suspension bridge. "That 
 fort could simply annihilate it, and be impregnable 
 to attack itself. This must be one of the strongholds 
 guarding the great through road to Lhasa. I hope 
 there is no death trap like this on the southern road. 
 If there is, the British expedition will get more than 
 it bargained for." 
 
 "Could heavy artillery not shell that fort?" asked 
 Geegee, watching some moving lights in the village. 
 
 "No, only guns firing vertically could touch it, 
 and up till now artillery has not been made for aerial 
 warfare. — But listen, boys! I hear their drums. 
 They are coming. Get into position!" 
 
308 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 A peculiar drum -like sound floated across from 
 the dark gorge in which the village lay, and at the 
 same moment many lights burst into view, evidently 
 torches in the hands of men advancing towards the 
 bridge. 
 
 "Now for a lesson in devil-dancing with full 
 orchestral accompaniment," muttered G.W. "Sling 
 out the orders, Lama, we're all ready." 
 
 " Then draw back off the roadway, so that the lights 
 of the torches may not show you up. Let each man 
 act in emergencies as his reason tells him is best. 
 Should he want help, let him shout his own name; 
 it will sound all right to the people, but while full 
 of meaning to us, will be unintelligible to them. 
 Then, keeping in the darkness, but close together, 
 we will work our way through the village. Is that 
 all understood?" 
 
 A murmur of assent went round in the Stygian 
 blackness, and C. H. J.'s voice spoke in addition: 
 "They will send over advance agents first, Lama, we 
 mustn't let them give the alarm that we've changed 
 our address." 
 
 "You are right; scatter, boys! but keep close 
 guard on the track, and don't let any single men pass; 
 and remember the throat grip is the only effective 
 way of keeping back sound — I hear someone on the 
 bridge now." 
 
 A silence, absolute yet eloquent, followed the 
 Lama's words, and each man drew back from the 
 bridge approach, determined that the Tibetan or 
 Chinaman who came into his hands would utter no 
 sound. 
 
 Some people were coming in advance, their 
 laughter and talking heralding their presence, while 
 the drums still were beating in the village square on 
 
The Fight in the Dark 309 
 
 the far side. There was no necessity for them to be 
 silent, for were not the prospective devils camped a 
 good way off on the hill slope? Doubtless such were 
 their thoughts, if they had any; but they must have 
 been rudely dispelled when the foremost suddenly 
 disappeared from his place, as if seized by an evil 
 spirit.. He tried to call out, but the Lama's grip was 
 strong and sure, and next moment, before his three 
 companions had time to realize that they were one 
 short, they too were in the hands of the demons, 
 G. W. having hauled two off their feet, and Cash 
 Bags the remaining one. 
 
 The silence was not broken, but for the sullen 
 roar of the waters underneath the bridge, and in time, 
 another party of scouts came gaily over the cane 
 structure. There seemed to be about a dozen in the 
 second group, so the Lama reached out and took two, 
 G. W. and Cash Bags appropriated the next couple 
 between them, and the rest marched on, wondering 
 why their comrades in front had suddenly become 
 so silent. 
 
 The next second some of them knew, Wun Lung 
 and C.H.J, had plucked four more from their midst. 
 The rest halted and cried out in surprise, but that 
 halt was fatal to three of them, Mac's great fists 
 closed on two, and Geegee had sprung upon the third 
 like a professional thug. But the fourth man was 
 free. Uttering a wild cry of terror he rushed up the 
 hill. He knew that the spirits of the river had seized 
 his comrades, and his only hope was to get beyond 
 their influence. But he did not get far, a lithe flying 
 devil overtook him, and springing upon his back tied 
 his straggling hair round his throat, choking back his 
 muttered " Om Mani Padmi Hum" before he had 
 framed the first magic syllable. And he relinquished 
 
310 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 all interest in life for the time being, and was carried 
 back by Geegee off the roadway. 
 
 Again and again was the manning-down process 
 repeated, the Shokas also doing wonders, until at 
 length it seemed as if the entire population of lamas, 
 soldiers, and villagers were coming over in instal- 
 ments, and G. W. was constrained to call out: "I 
 say, boys, I don't know how you are fixed, but I've 
 got a bigger heap of fellows here than I can keep an 
 eye on. Those underneath are beginning to squirm 
 a bit now, and I'll have to knock them on the head 
 if the curtain doesn't drop soon." 
 
 "The end is coming now," answered the Lama. 
 " The procession is approaching the bridge on the 
 other side. Don't interfere with it. Let it pass, and 
 then wait for my signal." 
 
 On came the weird procession, a double file of 
 gorgeously robed red lamas led the way, followed 
 by a company of what appeared to be a military 
 guard. Then in full glare of many torches, came a 
 dozen grotesquely garbed and hideously masked 
 figures, supposed to be typical of devils, and the 
 entire population of the village, men, women, and 
 children, seemed to be following. Slowly, to the 
 monotonous beat of many drums, and the blowing 
 of some bamboo, flute -like instruments, the great 
 heterogeneous army launched out upon the bridge, 
 which creaked, groaned, and hung dangerously low 
 over the torrent under its freight. 
 
 The watchers drew farther back into the darkness, 
 hauling their victims with them, and waited silently 
 and grimly. For them the matter was serious, and 
 the impressive nature of the spectacle did not appeal 
 to them, as it might to honest pilgrims bound for the 
 sacred city of Lhasa. 
 
THE DEVIL DANCERS 
 
The Fight in the Dark 3" 
 
 "By the ghost of old Bluebeard!" ejaculated 
 G. W. "What a chance to benefit the world by 
 cutting the bridge I" 
 
 " Hang the world!" growled C.HJ. " We've got 
 to get across it ourselves. But I would like to get 
 my fingers round that leading lama's windpipe " 
 
 "Silence, men!" cried the Lama, "and don't be 
 rash." 
 
 " Don't worry, old man," said G. W. cheerily. 
 "We'll be as prim as niggers after stealing 
 chickens." 
 
 And now the army was at hand. Each man of 
 those hiding in the gloom held his breath : if a sound 
 escaped them, or if one of their prisoners were able 
 to utter but one cry, all was over for them, and they 
 knew it. But their work had been done well, and 
 all unconscious of the near presence of their pro- 
 spective dancers, the lamas, soldiers, and others 
 passed on and wound their way to where the camp 
 fires could still be seen burning brightly, doubtless 
 thinking that their scouts had long ago made sure 
 of their prisoners. 
 
 But suddenly a wild commotion arose from the 
 ranks of the procession now lost in the darkness, and 
 shouts of terror and dismay resounded on the night 
 air and filled the valley. At the same moment the 
 cry of " Lhasa!" rang out on the bridge, and at once 
 the men hiding near its end arose and ran forward, 
 unheedful of the uproar behind. 
 
 "Now, boys," cried the Lama, "our course is 
 clear. Run, and don't stop until we have cleared 
 the village." 
 
 As he spoke a loud cry of "Geegee!" burst out 
 above the clamour, and the hearts of all fell on the 
 instant. 
 
3i2 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 "We're coming," G. W. shouted. "Where are 
 you?" With one accord the party and the Shokas 
 turned and ran up the slopes towards the dis- 
 ordered rabble, which only a few minutes before 
 had been a smoothly moving army. What had 
 happened to bring about the change they neither 
 knew nor cared. Geegee was in trouble, and that 
 was enough to transform them from carefully calcu- 
 lating beings into angry and desperate adventurers, 
 who held life as cheaply as ever did any fanatical 
 pilgrims. Their revolvers were ready; woe be to 
 the howling fiends in front, if a hair of their com- 
 rade's head had been harmed. Cash Bags was first 
 in the charge, closely followed by the Lama and 
 G. W., while Mac's more ponderous bulk relegated 
 him to a place among the fire-breathing Shokas. 
 
 "Geegee!" shouted Cash Bags. "We're coming. 
 Where are you?" But no answer came to their ears. 
 The sounds ahead were unmistakably suggestive 
 of a fierce battle, and they drowned even the roar of 
 the river. 
 
 "We'll open fire, boys," cried G. W. "We'll 
 send them all to Nirvana." 
 
 "Don't you be in big hully, fliend," spoke a voice 
 near, cool and collectedly. ' ' You best gety on tlack 
 again an' leave them to me." 
 
 "Who in blazes are you?" roared C.H.J., seizing 
 a torch which had fallen from someone's hands and 
 had thus been left behind on the ground. He swung 
 it into flame and held it in the speaker's face. It 
 was a gigantic Chinaman, in his mouth was a cigar- 
 ette, and bundled in his arms, as if only a child, was 
 Geegee. Like a cat defending its young, Cash Bags 
 flew at the giant's face, but his hands could not com- 
 pass the great throat, and with a smile the Chinaman 
 
The Fight in the Dark 313 
 
 shook him off, and lowered Geegee gently to the 
 ground. 
 
 "Pola Lee Tang!" gasped Wun Lung. "What 
 is the meaning of this?" 
 
 "That voice belong to fliend of mine, but he 
 should not speaky so loud English hele. Gety away 
 all of you befole the lush comes. Ah, little fliend, 
 and blodel of the Son of Heaven, you feel all lighty 
 now?" The last remark was addressed to Geegee, 
 who under the Lama's treatment was fast recovering 
 himself. 
 
 "Yes, I feel better now," the boy answered; "but 
 you came just in time." 
 
 1 ' Oh, Pola Lee Tang always do that. No good 
 come along too late." 
 
 "Sir, I thank you," began the Lama, but the 
 giant waved his hand deprecatingly. "You no gety 
 staked ally wolk wasted," he said. "We follow 
 you to help when double comes, and now we can 
 finish it without you. We knew of this plan last 
 night, an' came along to give them plenty devil- 
 dancing." 
 
 "But how did you come up so opportunely?" 
 asked Wun Lung. 
 
 The Chinaman looked at him closely. "I tink 
 I know you," he said. "You once befole play John 
 Chinaman in Sinning Foo? I tink youl pigtail come 
 off if I give good pull. Why you no' go ?" 
 
 "Here they come now!" cried G. W. "Pola's 
 brigands have given them all they wanted." 
 
 " Lun! lun!" shouted the Celestial, pushing G.W. 
 down towards the bridge. "All is lost if you no' 
 lun." 
 
 "But — but what about you?" asked Mac. "You 
 are no' in a vera healthy position?" 
 
314 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 "Poof! My men hidy ally lound. I disappeal; 
 we watchy you to-night an' see all youl game. You 
 clevel fellows, but you mad you no' go." 
 
 "Then go it is," cried G. W. "Come along, 
 boys!" 
 
 The Lama lifted Geegee in his arms. He too 
 seemed to be gifted with strength far beyond that 
 which his appearance suggested. 
 
 " I am grateful to you, sir," he said to Pola Lee 
 Tang. "And I hope I may yet have an opportunity 
 of thanking you." 
 
 "Oh, that all light," laughed the big man. "We 
 meet again. You black man outside, I am yellow 
 man, odel people white, but allee samee inside." 
 
 He waved his hand, and taking C. H. J.'s torch 
 turned and confronted the rushing lamas. Then 
 were redoubled the shouts and yells so characteristic 
 of battles in China and Tibet. The sight of the huge 
 man, standing higher even than their masked repre- 
 sentatives, filled them with terror, he was a real 
 devil, and he stood between them and safety. Pola 
 Lee Tang evidently knew his powers, and waving 
 his torch he shouted out strange commands to his 
 merry, hard-fighting brigands. The battle raged 
 furiously; for the attackers seemed to be swarming 
 everywhere, and in the intense darkness could not be 
 distinguished from the ordinary people. 
 
 Meanwhile the pilgrims and the Shokas had 
 crossed the bridge, and were running through the 
 deserted village. High overhead the monastery 
 lights gleamed on one side, and on the other frowned 
 the dark walls of the fort. But no one barred their 
 way. In the square were some huge illuminated 
 masks, waiting for the return of the lamas to play 
 some part in the devil-dance ceremonies. G.W. and 
 
The Fight in the Dark 315 
 
 C. H. J. promptly knocked them down in passing, 
 but the Lama would not allow of anything else being 
 done to them. On they ran, the sounds of strife on 
 the far mountain side growing fainter, until at last 
 they ceased altogether. Mac and G. W. had relieved 
 the Lama in turn in carrying Geegee, but now he 
 was able to run himself, and while so doing told 
 his story. 
 
 It appeared that one of the men he had caught 
 had recovered his senses and had attacked him, just 
 as the brigands had closed in on the procession. A 
 blow on the head with a club from someone had 
 rendered him unconscious, but just as his eyes closed 
 he recognized the brigand leader and called out to 
 him. He knew no more. 
 
 "We'll rest here," the Lama said when Geegee 
 had told all he knew. "We are safe now until 
 daylight, and I expect that Pola Lee Tang will see 
 that we are reported as killed. To-morrow night 
 we should see Lhasa." 
 
 And the Lama spoke truly. They crossed two 
 more passes and one large river, and just as the sun 
 was setting behind them on the evening of the second 
 day, they reached the summit of a third pass, and 
 turning to his comrades the Lama said simply: 
 
 "Behold Lhasa!" 
 
 The mysterious, glorious, grimly-guarded, sacred 
 city lay at their feet. 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 Lhasa 
 
 Yes, there it was, a veritable scene from fairyland. 
 Gilded domes and flashing spires glinted in the light 
 of the setting sun in bewildering confusion. Palaces, 
 temples, houses, rivers, gardens, and everything else 
 that goes to form a great and wealthy city, shone out 
 with a splendour utterly undreamt of by those of the 
 party who had never before gazed on the sacred city. 
 It lay in a hollow among the mountains, secure, 
 proud, and unassailable, flaunting its golden-capped 
 turrets to the sky, and throwing back the sun's beams 
 from its walls like a huge faceted mirror. On the 
 left, a little way apart from the city, a gorgeous palace 
 crowned a hill, which seemed to have been placed on 
 the plain expressly to be surmounted by such a mag- 
 nificent building. This was the Potala, the palace 
 of the Dalai Lama, and its walls gleamed red and 
 golden, and flung out scintillating flashes, which hid 
 by their dazzling brightness the nature of the surfaces 
 from which they radiated. Surrounding the hill at 
 the foot, where it seemed to sit squarely upon the 
 level stretch, were clusters of white-walled houses; 
 and connecting with the city proper and the palace- 
 crowned hill were gardens, and avenues, and minia- 
 ture lakes, and streams. It was a blaze of colour 
 which the party looked upon, and the dominant 
 
 816 
 
Lhasa 
 
 317 
 
 shades were red, white, green, and gold. A large 
 river flowed past the city, and over it spanned a white 
 stone bridge, its graceful arches just showing over 
 the tops of the willows which flanked the stream. 
 
 Then the sun sank behind the far western peaks, 
 the colours faded, and finally the city itself became 
 blotted out. No one had spoken since the city had 
 first burst upon their gaze, and for some time after 
 the sun had gone down all remained silent, still look- 
 ing at the place where the city had been, as if expect- 
 ing the vision to reappear. Instead, however, tiny 
 lights began to sparkle, a luminous haze floated in 
 the clouds, and suddenly they were gazing upon 
 myriads of twinkling stars, which somehow had for- 
 saken the sky for earthly glory. 
 
 G.W. was the first to speak; he usually was. " I 
 guess its sanitary arrangements can't be up to much," 
 he said, nodding his head towards the city. " If I 
 had been the fellow who first laid it out, I shouldn't 
 have built it so much in a hollow." 
 
 ' ' You — you Vandal ! " cried Wun Lung indignantly, 
 and the others also looked at G. W., as if he had said 
 something unpardonable. 
 
 But that gentleman stuck to his guns. " Oh, paint 
 and gold leaf are mighty like charity," he went on 
 defiantly. "They can cover a blamed lot of sins. 
 I'll bet if we have to pay taxes in that town for any 
 length of time we'll run up a fairly big doctor's bill. 
 I never liked enteric fever and " 
 
 "Spare us, G. W. !" cried the Lama. "That is 
 Lhasa." 
 
 " Yes, so you told me. It's something like Chicago, 
 but I'll go a dollar it hasn't got half the trade. When 
 are we to drop our cards on the fellow who stays in 
 that big beef-curing factory, Lama?" 
 
318 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 "You mean the Dalai Lama? We'll pay our re- 
 spects to him to-morrow afternoon, I hope. We have 
 still fourteen miles to go before reaching the city." 
 
 "Didn't I tell you?" roared G. W. in delight. 
 " Distance lends enchantment to the view, as my 
 friend Bill Shakespeare, or some of his pals, said. 
 When we get near enough to see the town without 
 the limelight on, I'll bet my boots it will turn out 
 to be a cheap whitewash affair we wouldn't give a 
 name to in the States." 
 
 "I'll no disagree wi' you, G. W.," Mac laughed. 
 "I've been in the place before. I may say, though, 
 that the Potala and some other temples and palaces 
 are unexcelled in the world for splendour and mag- 
 nificence both outside and inside." 
 
 "And some other places, Mac, for gruesomeness 
 and other qualities we'll say nothing of just now," 
 added C. H. J. meaningly. 
 
 "In any case, gentlemen, to-night is the last 
 night of freedom for us. To-morrow we begin a 
 game that must be played to the finish one way or 
 another. We must act as no stage characters ever 
 did, for our lives depend on our successfully playing 
 our parts." 
 
 "But we can do it, Lama," spoke Wun Lung 
 hopefully. "We are well up in our parts and need 
 not fail. After all, we are only doing what Burton 
 did in Mecca, and he was alone. We've all got the 
 nerve to carry us through, and when once we know 
 our way about, and see clearly what our duties are, 
 we'll not fail you." 
 
 "I know that, comrade," said the Lama. "But 
 hitherto we have laughed at the idea of danger, and 
 I wish to warn you all that it really is not child's 
 play which lies before us now. Our first business 
 
Lhasa 
 
 319 
 
 is to get news of the British force, where it is, and 
 all about it; then we shall consider our position, and 
 decide on the best means of replacing the eye — if 
 it seems right that it should be restored. Pola Lee 
 Tang and the secret society behind him come into 
 our plans to an extent greater than I had anticipated, 
 and we must also discover all we can of them and 
 their ideas. Geegee, you had better retain possession 
 of the moonstone still; it is perhaps safer with you 
 than with anyone else." 
 
 "There is another point which figures sort of big 
 in our scheme," put in G. W., "and that is in con- 
 nection with Geegee's father. We've got to get him 
 if he's on top of the ground." 
 
 "And we shall," said C.H.J. "Mac and I will 
 attend to that first thing." 
 
 "Then as the Shokas have prepared our last camp 
 supper, I think We should partake of it, and turn in as 
 soon as possible," said the Lama. " We need a rest 
 badly, and to-morrow we'll go forward to whatever 
 fate has in store for us." 
 
 An hour later the camp was wrapped in slumber, 
 the Shokas mounting guard among themselves of one 
 man every hour until daylight. Sleep was perhaps 
 what the party needed most, for they had seldom 
 while on the march enjoyed a full uninterrupted 
 night's repose. They knew, too, what they had to 
 do, having discussed their plans and prospects times 
 without number while forcing the long trail eastwards. 
 And the Shokas were also now aware of the nature 
 of the expedition upon which they had set out. To 
 them, however, no danger threatened so long as their 
 connection with the others was not discovered, and 
 that night the Lama had released each man from his 
 agreement, and paid him his wages in full until such 
 
320 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 time as he could get back to his own country. Their 
 services as carriers were no longer required, and they 
 had never been asked to undertake risks apart from 
 the usual fights with brigands, and other dangers 
 attending a pilgrim party's journey. 
 
 But the brave Shokas were not the men to consider 
 their own safety at a time when their masters stood 
 most in need of help. They had already spoken their 
 minds to Nana Sing, and he had framed a speech to 
 deliver to the sahibs on the morrow. 
 
 The night passed uneventfully, and after partaking 
 of breakfast the Lama called Nana Sing to his side 
 and said: "Faithful and true have been your men 
 and yourself. Here are letters to take back to India, 
 which tell how well pleased I have been with you. 
 Take now all that is left of these stores and return to 
 your native land. We go on alone." 
 
 Then Nana Sing spoke. ' ' Where you go, we 
 go," he said simply. "We are soldiers of the king 
 and know our duty. We want no more rupees. 
 We want to stay near you to fight and die for you, 
 and Nana Sing has work to do in Lhasa himself. 
 He left his beloved captain there many, many years 
 ago, and he wish now to go and leave his bones 
 beside his. He not want live any longer. Other 
 Shokas watch you always, but no' speak to you un- 
 less you first speak to them. They look after them- 
 selves. Nana Sing has said." 
 
 " And by Jupiter, he has said to the point!" cried 
 G. W. " You are a true British soldier, Nana Sing." 
 
 "You have already done all that you were en- 
 gaged to do, my man," said Mac. "Go home now 
 and spend your money among your own people. 
 We'll take on the work of looking after, not the 
 bones of Captain Gray, but the man himself." 
 
Lhasa 
 
 321 
 
 " Nana Sing's place is by his master," spoke the 
 native quietly, "and until he joins him he will stay 
 near his master's son. Perhaps he will get a chance 
 to give his worthless old life for him." 
 
 "No, no, Nana Sing," cried Geegee, seizing the 
 faithful old soldier's hand. ' ' You are worth far more 
 to the great British king alive than you can be 
 to me " 
 
 "Nana Sing," interrupted the Lama, "I take you 
 at your word. You will come with us, but your men 
 must not appear to know us in the streets. Not so 
 you, however ; to you I entrust the safety of your old 
 master's son Geegee. Show not your face again be- 
 fore men, if you allow evil of any kind to come near 
 him." 
 
 "That is my job, sir," broke in Cash Bags. "I 
 left London for that express purpose." 
 
 "Howling lamas!" ejaculated G. W. "Come 
 along, Mac, I'll look after you." 
 
 " I think we'll take care of each other, Cash Bags," 
 said Geegee gently. He had too noble a spirit not 
 to appreciate poor Cash Bags's words, although he 
 felt that if he ever fell into a hole from which he 
 could not extricate himself, it was not likely that 
 his comrade could save him. 
 
 " I shall never show my face before man, and may 
 the dogs of Lhasa eat my flesh and the devils get my 
 soul, if harm come near him and not strike Nana Sing 
 first!" The Shoka's words were terribly sincere, and 
 all knew it. 
 
 ' ' We are all in the hands of the One Grand Archi- 
 tect of the Universe," spoke Wun Lung reverently, 
 "Buddhist, Christian, and Brahmin alike; if He 
 wills we shall come safely through even the perils 
 of Lhasa." 
 
 (09) 21 
 
322 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 "Kismet!" muttered C.H.J, and Mac devoutly, 
 and the Lama looked at them. The word was a 
 Mohammedan expression meaning "So be it". The 
 Lama, however, did not know that these two were 
 as well versed in all the great world's religions, as 
 they undoubtedly were in Buddhism, and they did 
 not then explain. 
 
 "Well, comrades," the Lama said, "we all under- 
 stand each other, but even now any man may go 
 back." 
 
 "I say, Lama," said G. W. meditatively as the 
 little band was ready to start, "what are the profits 
 of this trip anyhow? Where do we come in after 
 the blind god sees again, and all is made right for 
 the praying, unwashed, butter-chewing beggars to 
 live happy ever after?" 
 
 "The profits I. intended at first to take from some 
 wonderfully rich gold and turquoise deposits I know," 
 the Lama answered, "but events having moved too 
 quickly to allow of our doing that. I can only promise 
 you what Mr. Deverell arranged to place to each 
 man's credit who crossed the Himalayas in this party. 
 That was a thousand pounds. We may make more 
 afterwards, but if you wish to draw out " 
 
 "Thanks, Lama, the money is not enough to worry 
 about." 
 
 "Then you are going back?" All looked at G. W. 
 His face was unusually serious. 
 
 "No, I'm not going back," he said slowly. "But 
 I am going to tell you to keep my little pile of 
 sovereigns, and buy with it all the history books of 
 the American people you can come across. When 
 you find one that says that an American ever went 
 back in anything he started, or left his mates when 
 things became worse, then freeze me into an incu- 
 
Lhasa 
 
 323 
 
 bator if I don't become a nationalized Tibetan. Now, 
 you home-grown Britishers, speak for yourselves. The 
 nigger part of your family have already expressed 
 their opinion." 
 
 "We're built the same way, G. W.," said Mac. 
 " It isn't for money, or for a calm, peaceful life, that 
 any of us joined this pilgrim party. The man who 
 needs money may have mine." 
 
 "And mine," added Wun Lung. "Money has 
 long ceased to be any god to me." 
 
 "Let's give it all to the youngsters," suggested 
 C.H.J. " Geegee and Cash Bags can spend it all 
 when they get home to London again." 
 
 " Comrades," said the Lama, "we need not discuss 
 questions of this nature. Both our younger friends 
 are well looked after by — by people to whom thou- 
 sands of pounds are nothing, and I will undertake 
 that they will never be in need of money while I can 
 
 command it. Forward, Nana Sing, and halt before 
 
 reaching the junction of the great south road and 
 this one. There must be many pilgrims coming in 
 over it from Bengal and Burmah." 
 
 The last day's march began, and laughing and 
 chatting on every conceivable subject, except upon 
 that which should have been uppermost in their 
 minds, they made good time down the long slope 
 into the cultivated plain. 
 
 And hourly the sacred city grew more distinct in 
 the shimmering sunlight, until each sparkling spire 
 and glittering dome stood out in golden glory apart 
 from its fellows, and the walls of the city loomed up 
 like a long, circular, light-reflecting mirror before 
 them. And then the great Indian highway came up 
 from the south, and joined the long beaten track they 
 had followed from the far side of Changtse. 
 
324 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 Pilgrim bands, trading caravans, and mounted 
 soldiers came over this road in one long, endless 
 stream, the slower moving parties always making 
 way for the fleet horsemen. Calling a halt before 
 joining the throng, the Lama gave a last injunction 
 to his comrades as to their behaviour from now 
 henceforth. The Shokas were then divided into two 
 bands, one half to go ahead, and the other to follow 
 the main body as near as possible. A system of 
 signals was also arranged, by which the attention of 
 any of the party could be attracted privately. 
 
 Then the first of the Shokas marched off, common 
 but faithful traders taking advantage of their being 
 in the vicinity of the sacred city to go in and offer 
 up a few revolutions of prayers, and perchance to 
 do some back trade in silk, carved images, or katas 
 manufactured by the lamas of the famous Daipang 
 Monastery, and blessed by the Dalai Lama himself. 
 
 Following them, but allowing a band of Bengal 
 pilgrims to pass between, the seven strangely assorted 
 pilgrims then swept into the crowded roadway, and 
 after a space the remaining Shokas followed. 
 
 Soon they reached the village suburb of Tailung 
 and crossed the bridge over the Thi-Chu, which 
 water, with the great Kyi-Chu river, almost surrounds 
 Lhasa. This was the bridge they had seen « from the 
 top of the pass, and Geegee was greatly interested, 
 although he dared not show it, in its quaint style 
 of architecture and workmanship. And now they 
 were passing along a broad, hard-beaten road lead- 
 ing through carefully and scientifically cultivated 
 groves of poplars, walnuts, and willows, which 
 formed a complete archway overhead, and protected 
 the devoted pilgrims from the sun's fierce rays. 
 
 Suddenly the leafy arcade ended, and the great 
 
Lhasa 
 
 325 
 
 white walls of the city appeared in front, but between 
 them and the gates was a scene so ghastly that 
 Geegee felt faint. It was a huge slaughter yard. 
 Mac had described it to him before, but he had not 
 half imagined its awful gruesomeness. Bones, horns, 
 skins, and wool were heaped high by the side of 
 the road, and several large excavated tanks held 
 floating carcasses of hundreds of sheep, yaks, and 
 goats slain beyond the sacred walls for the supply 
 of the town. Everywhere were pools of blood and 
 grisly relics horribly suggestive, and here and there 
 were great gaunt dogs feeding on bones and skele- 
 tons. 
 
 Geegee knew that at night thousands of these 
 corpse-eating animals would be let loose to devour 
 anything and everything putrid or unclean. He 
 knew also that the slightest mistake on his part 
 meant that these same dogs would pick his bones, 
 and he remembered with a shudder his experience 
 in the well of the Red Monastery. He turned his 
 eyes from the ghastly debris, and at once almost 
 cried out in delight. A little way over to the left 
 a hill rose from the plain, and on its slopes and 
 heights sat the far-famed Dalai Lama's palace, the 
 Potala. What a contrast to the place on which its 
 countless windows gazed! It was a superb sight, 
 and surely no monarch ever had such a royal resi- 
 dence. It seemed to be in two portions, each wing 
 covering a spur running out from the centre of the 
 hill. Story after story above the summit the walls 
 reared themselves, buttressed on jutting crags-, and 
 flinging high over all many gilded cupolas and tower- 
 ing spires. It was a picture in red and white, and 
 the most impressive scene upon which Geegee had 
 ever cast eyes. But it had another feature; from the 
 
326 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 base of the hill, on two sides, great white stairs ex- 
 tended in zigzag lines right to the top. Tier upon 
 tier they swept and curved, their countless steps cut 
 in the solid rock, glistening like blocks of ice. An 
 enormous yak-hair curtain hung over the centre of 
 the palace walls, and behind this screen the stairs 
 seemed to pass. 
 
 Geegee was lost in contemplation, and for the time 
 forgot his surroundings. But he was brought out 
 of his dreams abruptly by G.W.'s voice whispering 
 in his ear: "I guess, Geegee, the old fellow who 
 owns that place, must have first claim on all the skins 
 that the yaks slaughtered here have no more use for. 
 There must be thousands and thousands in that bed- 
 cover he has got hanging out to dry. I suppose it 
 is to hide the Holy of Holies from the vulgar 
 gaze ?" 
 
 A kick from Mac made the American pause, but, 
 lowering his voice still further, he soon went on 
 again. "I have just calculated that that screen is 
 over a hundred feet long by eighty broad. The 
 palace is nine stories high, and I reckon " 
 
 What he reckoned he did not say, for Mac had 
 administered another kick. 
 
 " Om Mani Padmi Hum" murmured G. W., look- 
 ing round with reproachful eyes at the meditative 
 pilgrim by his side. " What was that for?" 
 
 "Pray, you beggar, pray," he was answered. 
 " Keep your wheel moving and your eyes fixed on 
 the ground. You are not supposed to look at the 
 palace until you have said your prayers before Jo." 
 
 " Om Mani Padmi Hum" repeated the American. 
 "But is this washing day in the town? Look at all 
 the stuff hung across the road and everywhere where 
 cords can be stretched." 
 
Lhasa 
 
 327 
 
 "Shut up, man! those are flying prayers; every 
 time they flap, a prayer is credited to their owners. 
 Don't you see the usual inscription on them?" 
 
 Then they passed through the forbidden gates and 
 stood within the stronghold of Buddhism, the mys- 
 terious city about which so much has been conjec- 
 tured by foreigners and so little known. But the 
 long line of pilgrims never stopped; praying me- 
 chanically and verbally, they passed on up the street, 
 crowds of those who had already paid their respects 
 to the central temple standing by on either side, and 
 forming an avenue which guided the abstracted wor- 
 shippers to the holy place. 
 
 Geegee, however, was not in the mood in which 
 all good pilgrims should approach the shrine of Jo. 
 He was keenly observant, and little of note escaped 
 him. He saw that the buildings were all much larger 
 and more imposing than in Changtse. Square white 
 walls, with red facings and flat roofs of blue glazed 
 tiles, seemed to be the predominant features of most 
 of the buildings, but at every prominent position a 
 richly embellished temple or some official's residence 
 threw pagoda-like spires into the air, and their heavily 
 bedecked and gilded sides flashed and shone reful- 
 gently. 
 
 Bazaars and shops, too, met the eye wherever one 
 turned, all on a scale of lavishness which could only 
 be accounted for by the fact that pilgrims usually 
 entered Lhasa with all their worldly wealth and left 
 it with nothing but their purchases, and perhaps a 
 blessing from some particular high lama famous for 
 his virtues. 
 
 Hanging on the walls of nearly all the buildings 
 gaily-coloured banners, bearing the one great, simple, 
 and efficacious formula, lent an air of festivity to the 
 
328 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 scene, and across the streets from wall to wall fes- 
 toons of painted and inscribed rags were stretched, 
 moving gently in the breeze, and as G.W. the irre- 
 pressible murmured in Geegee's ear, "praying for 
 all they were worth ". 
 
 Along the broad street the procession slowly 
 moved, the Lama and Wun Lung receiving much 
 courteous attention from their fellow pilgrims on 
 account of their lamahood. At length the centre of 
 the city was reached, and in the middle of the square, 
 which occupied that position, stood the magnificent 
 temple of Jo, the blessed earthly abode of Buddha, 
 and the lodestone which draws its worshippers from 
 probably a third of the world's population. Its walls 
 were covered with enormous silken banners, so light 
 that the slightest breath of air set them in motion, 
 causing the lofty walls of the temple to appear like 
 a rippling sea of rainbow-coloured hues. A tall flag- 
 pole stood outside the door, its base ornamented with 
 yak tails, antelope horns, and other symbolical relics, 
 while countless prayers fluttered in long strings from 
 its golden-crowned peak. 
 
 Following the crowd, the sham, pilgrims passed 
 inside, and immediately looked upon a sight which 
 for absolute lavishness of wealth is probably un- 
 rivalled in the world. On a golden throne, sup- 
 ported by four Chinese dragons, whose sinuous 
 bodies completely enveloped it, sat the Buddha in 
 the dress and likeness of a handsome young prince. 
 His body, as the Lama had previously told Geegee, 
 was composed of the five precious metals according 
 to the Chinese mind — gold, silver, copper, zinc, and 
 iron; and the five most valuable gems — diamonds, 
 rubies, emeralds, sapphires, and moonstones — were 
 inlaid artistically all over his person. On either 
 
Lhasa 3 2 9 
 
 side of the central figure, and also behind it, were 
 grouped a number of the chief characters in Chinese 
 and Buddhist history, but only the Buddha himself 
 wore a crown. A gorgeous canopy surmounted 
 the whole, and hundreds of lamas were grovelling 
 round and round the throne and dais in continual 
 prayer. 
 
 Opposite the golden group of holy ones was a 
 huge wheel balanced delicately on two fine points, 
 and each pilgrim in passing his adored lords — on his 
 stomach — gave this wheel one turn. Speech was 
 profane before that holy shrine, and the wheel prayed 
 alike for all, Chinese, Tibetans, Hindus, Siamese, 
 Burmese, and hundreds of others, who considered 
 their mission on earth accomplished once they 
 turned it. 
 
 Trembling with excitement, as the culminating 
 moment of his life approached, each pilgrim wriggled 
 blindly past the grand spectacle — the glory was not 
 for such a vile creature as he to look upon — and set 
 the wheel in motion. Then rising to his feet he 
 hurried from the place to swell the numbers of 
 those in the streets who had already prayed, and to 
 purchase mementoes of that sublime moment to take 
 back with him to his far-distant home. 
 
 Geegee was perhaps as devoutly minded as any 
 of the legitimate pilgrims when he crawled past the 
 group and touched the prayer-wheel, but it is to be 
 feared that G. W. had not reduced himself to that 
 state of abject humility, without which prayers are 
 useless. His first words when the party got clear 
 of the crowd, and struck off into a street away from 
 the pilgrims' line of march were: "My word! I 
 never felt more like being a thief in my life. Just 
 fancy, Geegee, I could have hauled the ruby buckle 
 
33Q Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 off the shoe of the fellow who sat on the throne, my 
 hand actually touched it." 
 
 " The lamas are not afraid of anyone stealing 
 in the temple of Jo," the Lama said* " Who would 
 call upon himself the terrible consequences attending 
 such an awful act of sacrilege?" 
 
 "I've met some fellows who wouldn't mind the 
 risk. All the same, I draw the line at robbing temples 
 or other peoples' gods, although I am not as good 
 a man as my old people tried to make me, by any 
 means. But that was a funny Buddha " 
 
 "That was a Chinese conception of the great 
 teacher," Wun Lung said. " I've heard of that 
 particular image often throughout China. I believe, 
 too, it was some famous Chinese Emperor, who at 
 the time was also King of Tibet, who presented that 
 group. He had it made by the most skilled artificer 
 in China, under the guidance of the god Indra, 
 according to the stories in circulation." 
 
 "Well, boys, here, is the serai I told you of," 
 interrupted Mac. "You'll find it a really first-class 
 hotel run on business lines, and no questions asked 
 so long as you have plenty of money. Let us go 
 in and dine, and see if there is room for us to stay 
 within its marble halls." 
 
 There was room; the serai close by the great 
 temple was not one frequented by common pilgrims, 
 it was run on lines strongly suggestive of European 
 methods and catered only for the wealthy visitors. 
 The proprietor was certainly not a Tibetan, but apart 
 from G. W.'s guess that he was a Scotsman none 
 could form any opinion as to his nationality. After 
 a very fine dinner, served on the ground in the best 
 Chinese style, the party went up to the roof to smoke, 
 and while there an attendant came along with his 
 
Lhasa 33 1 
 
 prayer-wheel, and asked politely if Chutzso Lama 
 was among their number. He had already been 
 round several groups of smokers, among whom were 
 several Rajahs the Lama knew, and some Chinese 
 dignitaries. 
 
 Quickly Mac answered in his best Tibetan that 
 the humble object of the waiting gentleman's en- 
 quiries sat before him, whereupon the attendant 
 signed to a gentleman of one of the other squatting 
 groups, who at once rose and came forward. 
 
 "Chutzso Lama?" he said interrogatively, looking 
 round the faces of the party. 
 
 The Lama arose and bowed. "What may your 
 business with that poor insignificant seeker after 
 truth be?" he enquired in Hindustani. "Behold I 
 am the humble one your refulgent honour has 
 named." 
 
 "Can my brother make any sign by which I may 
 know him?" went on the stranger in the same tongue. 
 
 For answer the Lama made a mysterious move- 
 ment with his right hand, and the man at once 
 handed him a sealed document. "I have waited 
 here many days for you," he said in the tones of 
 a cultured Bengali. " Colonel Younghusband has 
 fought one battle, and is now only three rides south 
 of Lhasa. The Dalai Lama is sick and like to die 
 — let us pray for a happy re-incarnation — and the 
 oracle Nachung-Chos-Kyong has made many strange 
 utterances. Russia and China too have come to 
 some agreement concerning the British and Japanese, 
 and the Emperor is a prisoner in the hands of the 
 Dowager's party. That is my news, my brother. 
 When you wish my poor presence call for me." 
 
 The stranger bowed and retired, and the Lama 
 opened his letter. It was short and in a secret 
 
332 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 cipher, but he had memorized the code, and therefore 
 could read the message straight off. 
 
 All excepting G. W. and Cash Bags had under- 
 stood the words of the letter bearer, but these two 
 were still under their vows of silence, and the effort 
 to refrain from asking what had been said made 
 G. W. bite his tongue severely. 
 
 But the Lama did not keep his comrades long in 
 suspense. Tearing a leaf carelessly from a book 
 supposed to be the written works of some priest, but 
 which really was a blank page volume, he wrote 
 some sentences and handed the leaf round. And 
 this is what his comrades read: — Cable from Lon- 
 don, supplemented and forwarded by our agents in 
 India — "Dalai Lama is our friend, but it is feared 
 is completely in the hands of the Gyalpo. Japan is 
 winning in the war with Russia, but the latter Power 
 has contracted a secret alliance with the Dowager's 
 party which binds the Chinese government to rise 
 in support of Russia. The progressive or Emperor's 
 party is powerless to interfere; but the restoration 
 of sight to the war god in Lhasa would awake 
 the Buddhist world to a sense of patriotism. The 
 Chinese Emperor and the Dalai Lama are the joint 
 supreme heads of this faith. The Russians have 
 entered Tibetan territory on the north. Act quickly 
 or not at all, or complications may arise between you 
 and the British force." To this was added, but not 
 in quotation marks: — Make no comment, I suspect 
 we are watched; I see Nana Sing at the other end 
 of the roof, and his face has a troubled expression. 
 I will go to him now. Go out into the streets and 
 scatter, so as not to be seen together. 
 
 Each man read the note, and then, as the Lama 
 lit a cigarette carelessly and strolled away, he did 
 
Lhasa 333 
 
 the same, careful to walk apart from his fellows but 
 nevertheless keeping a close eye on them. They 
 passed out into the street, and from a neighbouring 
 but humbler serai eleven Shoka pilgrims did like- 
 wise. All was now clear to Geegee. He was an 
 actor in a drama that involved the fate of the three 
 greatest empires in the world, and a fourth which 
 might challenge the position of any one of them and 
 even rise greater than them all. Now he thought 
 he knew the reason of the British expedition, it was 
 to assist the Dalai Lama, not to throw off China, 
 but rather the ruling Chinese party, and at the same 
 time to strike a blow at Russia in defence of the 
 Indian Empire. Evidently also the Russo-Chinese 
 alliance had been foreseen by those who had sent 
 out the secret expedition, and the replacing of the 
 moonstone was the counter stroke. 
 
 But how was that to be done? How could his 
 comrades gain admission to the sacred precincts of 
 the Potala now, seeing the Dalai Lama was so ill that 
 he was not expected to recover? Then the memory 
 of his wild dream came back to him, and he wondered 
 if he could really be instrumental in giving the war 
 god back its sight. 
 
 Musing thus he walked aimlessly through the 
 streets, ignoring the invitation of the bazaar pro- 
 prietors to buy katas and images. He noted once 
 that Cash Bags was behind him, and that some 
 Shokas were on the opposite side of the road. At 
 length, he turned to go back to the serai, and found 
 himself passing through a street, in which were 
 nothing but private dwelling houses of the upper 
 class. Surprised at the evidence of culture and 
 refinement so noticeable about these houses, he paused 
 to study the quaint architecture of one more closely, 
 
334 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 and just then a heavy cloak dropped over his head, 
 and, despite his struggles, was tied round him. 
 Then he was lifted off his feet and carried away. 
 He retained his senses, and knew that he would 
 simply be strangled if he attempted to call out, and 
 even if he was rescued by the people the discovery 
 of his identity was inevitable. 
 
 He lay still, and after being carried between several 
 changes of men for miles, it seemed, he was suddenly 
 thrown down upon the ground. He pulled the cover- 
 ing from his head and gazed around. He could see 
 nothing. He was in complete darkness, evidently 
 inside some great prison. He uttered a cry of 
 anguish, but a laugh strangely familiar was his 
 only answer. 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 Hail to the Dalai Lama! 
 
 Geegee had long ago learned that it served no good 
 purpose giving way to despair. Several times on the 
 long journey he had grazed death so closely that he 
 had experienced nearly all its terrors, yet he had 
 survived, and while the Lama and his comrades 
 were free he felt he had at least a chance of escaping 
 once more. They would leave nothing undone in 
 their search for him, he knew; and from the fact that 
 he still had the sacred eye on his person, he reasoned 
 that either his captors did not know he had it, or 
 were not concerned in the matter of its recovery. He 
 sat down on the rocky floor to think. He could not 
 see the nature of his prison, but somehow he felt it 
 was a huge subterranean vault. Once or twice he 
 heard deep-toned bells pealing out dolorously, but 
 where the sound came from he had no idea. 
 
 "No," he muttered, "I will not believe I was 
 brought all the way from London to this place to 
 die in a prison without our mission being accom- 
 plished." He spoke bravely, but his heart was sore 
 nevertheless, and small wonder. Then his thoughts 
 took another turn, and the story of the Logon forced 
 itself upon him with a wealth of unpleasant detail. 
 The horror of the unknown grew in his imagination, 
 until his fancy peopled the gloom with grinning 
 
 335 
 
336 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 demons and savage man-eating dogs; but at last 
 nature came to his relief and he slept, to dream of 
 Dalai Lamas on motor cars, and of Tom Deverell 
 playing a game of dice with his father, to determine 
 which of them would be re-incarnated as Emperor 
 of China. 
 
 Suddenly he awoke, and the full knowledge of his 
 position rushed back on him, like a mighty wave over- 
 whelming a helpless drifting boat far from the shore. 
 But that was not all, he was conscious that a some- 
 thing that lived and breathed was standing in front 
 of him. He waited, expecting momentarily to feel 
 cold, clammy fingers close round his throat. He 
 held his breath ; after all, death would ensue quickly, 
 and restful oblivion would be Nirvana. Gone was 
 the spirit of fight that had helped the lad on more 
 than one occasion, and gone even was the instinct, 
 or desire, to preserve his life. The dark silent 
 sepulchre had conquered. 
 
 But the looked-for sensation never came; instead, 
 a voice spoke from the blackness in a language un- 
 known to Geegee. 
 
 "I am a Hindustani," answered the lad in the 
 tongue he knew best. 
 
 "Who are you? why are you here? and what 
 have you done? the voice went on, using the same 
 language as Geegee. 
 
 "I am only a poor pilgrim; I was taken here; I 
 have done nothing," Geegee replied. "Who are 
 you, and what do you want of me?" 
 
 "I am the jailer, I want to see you. I seldom 
 keep my prisoners long." A torch burst into flame 
 in the speaker's hands, and lit up the vault with an 
 eerie radiance. A heavily cowled being, with masked 
 face, and long black robes girdled together by a belt 
 
Hail to the Dalai Lama! 337 
 
 of plaited yak tails, stood before Geegee, and in this 
 belt was an array of ferocious steel blades. The 
 man's eyes glowed through the mask like pieces of 
 live coal, but when next he spoke his hearer thought 
 he detected a kindly ring in his tones. 
 
 "You are but a boy," he said. " Has the Gyalpo 
 come down to making war upon such as you?" He 
 peered into the boy's face, and then sat down beside 
 him. " Don't be afraid of me," he went on. " I am 
 not the worst of the demons who dwell here, as many 
 poor pilgrims can testify. Tell me why you are 
 here?" 
 
 ' ' I don't know. I was seized in the city and carried 
 here." 
 
 " Do you know where you are?" 
 
 " No; I only entered Lhasa to-day, and don't know 
 its prisons." 
 
 "But surely you have friends? A lad like you 
 wouldn't make a pilgrimage alone." 
 
 Geegee clenched his teeth over his lips. This, 
 then, was another trap to draw information from 
 him. A feeling of thankfulness came over him. 
 Evidently his captors were still working without full 
 knowledge of the identity, and, perhaps, purposes 
 of the false pilgrim party. 
 
 " You do not speak," came the cold voice beside 
 him. "Why?" 
 
 Geegee was now himself again. " You had better 
 instruct your people to kill me at once," he said in 
 Hindustani, as nearly as he could find equivalent 
 expressions. ' ' I will tell you nothing, except that 
 your sacred city will soon be tumbling about your 
 ears; the great British Government can avenge 
 wrongs done to an Indian pilgrim." 
 
 " Yes," said the jailer musingly, " but it sometimes 
 
 (09) 22 
 
338 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 takes ten years to do it. But your words give you 
 away, young man. You are a spy. As for the 
 British force you hinted at, have you not learned 
 that it is marching into a trap which will bring 
 about its utter annihilation? Even now it is only 
 the Dalai Lama who withholds the order to turn loose 
 the great Kyi-Chu torrents upon it, for it is march- 
 ing along that river's old channel, the only road 
 approaching Lhasa from the south. The Gyalpo 
 will give the order to-night as soon as the Dalai Lama 
 dies, and already the Chinese engineers are awaiting 
 the signal." 
 
 " Why do you tell me all this?" 
 
 " Because your words run not smoothly over your 
 tongue, and lead me to suspect you are not a pilgrim 
 from beyond the snows. I see, too, that you wear 
 the symbol of the Brothers of the Son of Heaven, 
 and as such the Dalai Lama, whose servant I am, 
 requires your help." 
 
 " My help?" cried Geegee in astonishment. " How 
 can I help him?" 
 
 "That remains to be seen. He dies in half an 
 hour, and only his life stands between his country 
 and its being absorbed by Russia and China. The 
 poor Emperor, his brother, can give no help, and 
 the Brothers of the Son of Heaven in Lhasa have 
 nearly all been killed already by the Gyalpo's 
 orders." 
 
 " But we cannot keep even a Dalai Lama in life?" 
 ' Perhaps we can. The Oracle has said that he 
 who sits on the throne by the sightless war god in 
 the Potala when midnight strikes to-night shall de- 
 liver his people from their enemies, and if we can 
 put him there the Gyalpo will be frustrated. He 
 intends to place his own son on the throne, and has 
 
Hail to the Dalai Lama! 339 
 
 already arranged with the Czar and the Dowager 
 for their support. It will mean an alliance of seven 
 hundred million people, for of course India will be 
 included." 
 
 " But the British will not submit tamely to this." 
 
 "Britain will know nothing about it till too late. 
 By to-morrow the small British force will have ceased 
 to exist on earth, unless the Dalai Lama is kept in 
 power. His word alone saves it, for it seems the 
 Brothers of the Son of Heaven have forgotten their 
 promises. Ah, if only the eye could be restored 
 now!" 
 
 "The eye?" repeated Geegee. "What do you 
 mean?" His brain was working with lightning 
 rapidity, and his words were but to hide his thoughts. 
 
 "Nothing, my young friend; I have made a mis- 
 take. The great Oracle has said that the time was 
 at hand when the god would again see, and that 
 someone from over the snows would stand forth to 
 save Tibet from being made a cat's-paw. I thought 
 perhaps you might be that person, and^had been 
 imprisoned here because the secret agents had dis- 
 covered you." 
 
 "I will help you!" cried Geegee in sudden excite- 
 ment. " And I have friends in the city who will also 
 do their utmost. Where are we?" 
 
 "In the tombs underneath the Potala. But come, 
 throw this cloak over your head and follow me." 
 
 A bell, muffled and most dismal in sound, tolled 
 out somewhere at that moment, and on hearing its. 
 first doleful strokes the strange jailer threw himself 
 down on the floor, exclaiming the equivalent in Hin- 
 dustani of, "Too late! too late! Alas, too late!" 
 
 "No," cried Geegee, shaking him, "we may yet 
 be in time. Lead on ! Take me to the throne room 
 
34o Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 — quick! The British force may be destroyed before 
 we can interfere." 
 
 "Useless! That bell announced to Lhasa that the 
 blessed Dalai Lama was now wrestling with the grim 
 king of all things earthly. Alas, ten long years have 
 I spent here in vain ! Oh, why has Britain not kept 
 her promise?" 
 
 "Britain has kept her promise," Geegee said. 
 "Come at once! Dead or alive, the Dalai Lama 
 shall sit on his throne at midnight, and his command 
 all Lhasa shall obey though ten thousand Gyalpos, 
 Chinese ambans, and secret agents order otherwise." 
 Gone alike were reason and discretion. A wild idea 
 had flashed upon him. 
 
 "Who are you?" demanded the cowled figure, 
 watching, with fast-renewing interest, his companion 
 envelop himself in the long black cloak he had offered 
 him, " and whence the reason of your words?" 
 
 " Behold, in my possession is the lost eye of the 
 war god ! Get me to where I can be of most service 
 now. No, don't waste time asking questions. As 
 the Restorer of Sight I command you." 
 
 The jailer sprang to his feet. "Then come!" he 
 exclaimed. "There shall at least be a last fight for 
 the Dalai Lama, the Emperor of China, and the King 
 of Britain. You are the mortal from over the snows 
 that Heaven has sent. Perhaps my days of pilgrimage 
 are now almost over. Come!" 
 
 He ran off through the darkness, brandishing his 
 torch into flame so that Geegee could see to follow, 
 and with his whole being filled with the one idea the 
 lad kept at his heels. Oh, if the Lama, G.W., Mac, 
 or even Cash Bags were with him now ! 
 
 But he had to play his daring game alone, and 
 he would not shirk it. On him depended the safety 
 
Hail to the Dalai Lama! 34 1 
 
 of the British force, the success of the expedition of 
 which he was a member, and, for all he knew, the 
 prevention of the formation of an empire, the greatest 
 the world had ever known, whose first duty would 
 be to crush Britain. It was true Japan was more 
 than holding her own with the great Northern 
 octopus, but with the teeming millions of China 
 forced into war in alliance with Russia, the tables 
 would soon be turned. And yet poor long-suffering 
 China did not desire war of any kind. She was, 
 while under the Dowager Empress, merely the tool 
 of Russia, and a cover for the Czar's troops advanc- 
 ing on India. The Emperor himself was powerless, 
 despite the efforts of the mysterious Brotherhood to 
 elevate him into his rightful position, and his strongest 
 ally, his brother ruler of the Buddhist world, the 
 Dalai Lama of Tibet, was even now being done to 
 death. 
 
 At length the jailer of the tombs, that strange man 
 who had taken upon himself such a great responsi- 
 bility, reached the end wall of his subterranean home, 
 and at his touch a massive slab of rock swung back 
 on pivots, and a flight of stairs leading upwards were 
 disclosed. Signing to Geegee to follow, he closed 
 the stone door and rushed up the long seemingly 
 endless line of steps. Up, up they went, twisting 
 and turning, until the boy's strength was exhausted — 
 he had counted over five hundred steps and no end 
 was yet in sight. The roof ever kept just above their 
 heads, but even in the dim torchlight marks of tools 
 were visible, showing that the stairway had been cut 
 out of the solid rock at some remote period. But at 
 length their farther passage was blocked by the rock 
 closing in in front, and Geegee sank down on the 
 stairs to regain his breath. He remembered in a 
 
342 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 hazy way his experiences in the Red Monastery, and 
 half expected to witness some similar scene with the 
 unfortunate Dalai Lama as central figure. 
 
 The wall opened, and the tomb keeper pulled Gee- 
 gee through into' a small stone chamber. " Take 
 care," the man muttered, "that floor is false. The 
 real one is in the tombs among the dogs. Stand 
 close in to the side, and look through these holes." 
 
 He indicated some holes in the rocky wall which 
 formed one square of the chamber, and after peering 
 through one himself uttered an exclamation of relief. 
 "In time!" he muttered. "The Great God be 
 praised!" He spoke in Tibetan, but Geegee ex- 
 perienced little difficulty in grasping the full mean- 
 ing of his words. He had not spent his time with 
 Nana Sing on the journey in vain. 
 
 He applied his eye to the spyhole. He was looking 
 into the far-famed throne-room of the Dalai Lama, 
 and the sight that met his gaze was one the memory 
 of which would never leave him. The room was very 
 large, and three rows of massive carved pillars sup- 
 ported its roof. Its floor was smooth as glass, but 
 rich gold-embroidered carpets were scattered pro- 
 fusely over its surface. Beautiful tapestries and satin 
 hangings adorned the walls, and golden flower-shaped 
 lamps provided light. A magnificent throne, inlaid 
 with costly gems and supported on the backs of two 
 exquisitely sculptured lions, occupied one side of the 
 room, and in a corner almost opposite stood a metallic 
 monstrosity with a hole in its forehead, which Geegee 
 knew instinctively was the famous war god. 
 
 But all this was but the setting, or stage mounting, 
 of a scene intensely dramatic now being enacted 
 within the room, and its significance was not long 
 in dawning upon the hidden spectator. A man 
 
Hail to the Dalai Lama! 343 
 
 dressed in gorgeous yellow silk robes was stretched 
 upon a rug in the middle of the floor. His hand- 
 some, childlike face wore an expression of resignation, 
 and while his eyes were turned piously towards the 
 golden image of Buddha, which rested upon a silk- 
 covered dais at one end of the room, his lips repeated 
 the holy prayer, and his left hand gently turned the 
 drum of a golden prayer-wheel which his right held. 
 Round him were over a score of black draped, masked 
 figures, also chanting some formula, and at his head 
 were the two mysterious men whom Geegee had first 
 seen in London. They wore long black cloaks over 
 their gaudy blue silk garments, and one still bore 
 the mark of Geegee's bullet inflicted in the Red 
 Monastery. They were not masked, but a third man 
 stood beside them completely covered in one long 
 black garment, which fell from his head and over 
 his shoulders and arms, two holes in his dress 
 serving for eyes. Despite his gloomy appearance, 
 Geegee could not help thinking he was so dressed 
 to allow of a quick change, nor needed he to be told 
 that this was the dreaded Chinese Gyalpo, Lord of 
 Lhasa and of the world, the man whose wishes Fate, 
 Dalai Lamas, and even Emperors had to obey. 
 
 Suddenly he spoke, and a strain of wailing music 
 issued from some hidden recess. While he was speak- 
 ing a bell began to toll, and a crowd of the cowled 
 figures stooped and raised the recumbent form in their 
 arms. He was now about to start on a pilgrimage 
 that ended in Nirvana. The music swelled out into a 
 triumphant chorus, the monks' dirge -became louder, 
 and — the savage growls of hungry dogs came up 
 from beneath where Geegee stood. The floor had 
 opened, and he had barely foothold on a ledge. A 
 flap also opened noiselessly in the wall between him 
 
344 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 and his heavily breathing companion, and without 
 a word being uttered in explanation — he needed 
 none — he caught the end of the tomb-keeper's cloak 
 swung out to him, and the black, evil-smelling gulf 
 was bridged. The awful bell tolled on, a crash of 
 music burst out, and the Dalai Lama's body was 
 launched through the flap into — strong and ready 
 arms. He was slim and light, and the cloak easily 
 sustained him. Grim and silent the two men bore 
 their burden, sticking their feet into the opposite 
 corners of the walls and supporting themselves by 
 sheer strength and rigidity of muscle. Then the 
 floor closed into place again, and they were safe. 
 
 And all this time not a word had been uttered 
 between the strange comrades. Quietly the keeper 
 of the tombs opened the door at the head of the 
 stairs, and next instant the three were on the solid 
 steps. The Dalai Lama was still muttering his Om 
 Mani Padmi Hum. Doubtless his brain, if working 
 at all, was realizing that re-incarnation was not such 
 a violent change as he had expected, and that it was 
 the good spirits of his own faithful people who had 
 been sent to minister unto him. 
 
 The tomb-keeper relit his torch and gazed at the 
 face of the lama. " He has almost willed himself 
 to Nirvana," he muttered in Hindustani. "But we 
 must be quick. There is a way round to the outer 
 throne-room entrance from here. The Gyalpo and 
 his people have gone to bring the new Dalai Lama. 
 We must forestall him, but I fear it will be a dead 
 
 Dalai Lama after all whom we " He paused and 
 
 looked at Geegee. The thought had just occurred 
 to him that had never for a moment been out of 
 Geegee's mind. 
 
 "No, it won't!" the boy cried. "Help me into 
 
Hail to the Dalai Lama! 345 
 
 his clothes. Has not the Oracle said that it will be 
 a deliverer from beyond the snows who will save 
 the country? And have I not the eye of the war 
 god?" 
 
 Before he had finished speaking, the tomb-keeper 
 had thrown the Dalai Lama's mantle over him. 
 "Go," he said, "and may The God guard you." 
 He grasped Geegee's hand, a proceeding that would 
 have surprised the latter very much, if he had been 
 less excited; for handshaking is by no means a 
 Tibetan custom. 
 
 "Here is a loaded revolver," said Geegee, "I 
 have another one for myself. Protect me all you 
 can through the holes. Goodbye!" 
 
 The door was opened for him, and he was once 
 more in the treacherous chamber, but this time he 
 did not stay. Reaching the flap, he pulled it open, 
 and seeing the room was empty he scrambled through. 
 He stood in the throne-room. The whole palace was 
 ringing with cries of lamentation and expectation, the 
 nearest equivalent Geegee could imagine, for he now 
 had a slight knowledge of the Tibetan language, 
 being, " The Dalai Lama is dead ! Long live the Dalai 
 Lama!" 
 
 The bell suddenly ceased tolling in funereal tones, 
 and a joyful peal rang out far up among the towers 
 of the palace. All Lhasa now knew that a happy 
 re-incarnation had taken place, and to-morrow would 
 pray all day for the new Dalai Lama to have much 
 wisdom. But Geegee had no time to think of any- 
 thing but his one object. He ran over to the war 
 god, tearing the sacred moonstone from its place 
 among his under garments as he ran. His nerves 
 were now tingling, his vision was blurred, his senses 
 were hopelessly mixed; but through the confusion 
 
346 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 he knew he heard the sound of hurrying footsteps 
 returning to the room. Then his heart jumped vio- 
 lently; he was sure the war god had spoken. He 
 drew his hand across his face to clear away some of 
 the blinding perspiration, and then he almost sprang 
 a yard into the air; a revolver shot had rung out 
 from behind the wall. In an instant he had recovered, 
 and in another the sight of the war god was re- 
 stored. After a period of blindness extending over 
 a thousand years, the great and terrible god was 
 once more in fighting order. 
 
 And he certainly seemed to appreciate the fact, 
 for the rumblings which came from his interior were 
 terrible to hear. But Geegee was far past caring 
 what happened. It mattered nothing to him now 
 if the palace walls fell in, or the great image itself 
 stepped down from its position and took an active 
 interest in affairs. He would play the game to the 
 finish one way or the other. A boy against two 
 mighty empires. A boy between the British force 
 and destruction. A boy to usurp a throne, and play 
 with the fate of about seven hundred million people. 
 Alone and friendless, but for the tomb-keeper behind 
 the walls, he would do it; but oh, how his soul 
 cried out for the Lama and his comrades! . With 
 
 them it would have been easy; without ? With 
 
 an effort of will he dismissed all thoughts but one 
 from his mind, and suddenly became cool and com- 
 plete master of himself. Men were approaching from 
 all quarters, and the denouement had yet to take 
 place. And all the time the bells clanged out, and, 
 although he did not see them, many lights flashed 
 mysterious messages from the palace towers and from 
 answering points in the great city beneath. 
 
 Next moment he was sitting on the throne; the 
 
Hail to the Dalai Lama! 347 
 
 late Dalai Lama's golden mitre rested near, and he 
 placed it on his head. He was the living representa- 
 tive of the great, good, and mighty Buddha. He 
 hastily but gently wiped his face with the inner side 
 of his silken robes, drew them regally around his 
 person, composed his features, and tried to think that 
 he really was the re-incarnated form of the Dalai 
 Lama, and had many wrongs to rectify on behalf 
 of his people. 
 
 Not a sound came from the watcher behind the 
 walls, but surely the awful war god himself was 
 speaking. It was, and in English: "Hail to-the 
 Dalai Lama whom the land beyond the snows has 
 sent!" it said in thunderous tones. "Hail to the 
 Lord of Speech! and hail to the Son of Heaven!" 
 
 And now all was commotion outside, and the 
 tongues of many men spoke in meaningless sounds. 
 
 And in state the Dalai Lama waited. He knew 
 not, and cared little what the result to hirn might 
 be. But why were the lamas not coming? Behind 
 the great yak curtains they surged in thousands, but 
 not one face peered through. At length, this was 
 made plain. 
 
 "Back! back!" a voice thundered in Hindustani, 
 and the lone listener thought it sounded familiar. 
 "Let no one look upon the throne until the hour 
 strikes. Remember the words of the Oracle." 
 
 " It will be the Gyalpo's son," cried another voice, 
 but in Tibetan. "The Oracle has said he will have 
 his features." 
 
 "All earthly ties are as nothing," yet a third voice 
 gave forth. "The mortal shape that the Blessed 
 One "assumes is that which pleases him best. Even 
 the Gyalpo must yield up his son to Buddha's com- 
 mand, and pay homage to him if need be." The 
 
348 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 speaker spoke in Tibetan, but he who sat on the 
 throne gathered the effect of his words. 
 
 " But who has seen the Gyalpo's face?" cried the 
 first voice in Hindustani. " His face is always hidden 
 from the light of day." 
 
 "But to-night he will unmask," answered some- 
 one. "He must bow to the new Dalai Lama." 
 
 Then some bell boomed out the hour of midnight, 
 and with a cry of expectation, which sounded like the 
 roar of an army, a sea of lamas in full dress burst 
 through the screened doorway. At their head were 
 the two secret agents, the black-robed Gyalpo, and 
 several Chinese officials and lamas of high degree. 
 
 "Behold the Dalai Lama!" cried the Gyalpo. 
 "Great and marvellous are the ways of the Inscrut- 
 able 1" 
 
 The rush was stayed, and an awed silence fell over 
 all. They had expected to see the throne filled, for 
 the great Oracle had told them so. But they had not 
 hoped to see their beloved one come back among 
 them full grown. The Gyalpo stepped forward and 
 prostrated himself. " May thy rule be long and full 
 of good, O Never Dying One!" he mumbled in 
 Hindustani. "Behold your people; they have been 
 expecting you " 
 
 "This is a trick! It is not the man!" suddenly 
 shouted one of the secret agents in Chinese. "The 
 Oracle said he would have the Gyalpo's features." 
 
 "Silence, dog!" a powerfully built lama exclaimed 
 in the same tongue. " Wouldst thou dare deny the 
 evidence of thine own senses, and doubt the wisdom 
 and truth of the inspired Oracle?" 
 
 "Long live the Dalai Lama!" now chorused the 
 crowd, throwing themselves upon the ground in front 
 of the throne. 
 
Hail to the Dalai Lama! 349 
 
 "And may he deliver his people from bondage," 
 cried another. Then all began talking at once, and 
 the central figure understood not a word that was 
 said. They were discussing some point, and arguing 
 amongst themselves in a manner which promised 
 trouble. 
 
 At length a gaudily dressed amban stepped up to 
 the throne and made a speech in Tibetan, which fell 
 upon totally uncomprehending ears. The Dalai 
 Lama had not yet uttered a sound, nor had he 
 moved. But now a lama of high rank approached 
 and said in Hindustani: "I will convey thy sacred 
 words to the faithful people. Let me be thy mouth- 
 piece, O Mighty One!" 
 
 "Be it so," the new ruler answered in Hindu- 
 stani, and his voice frightened himself, so strange it 
 sounded. 
 
 "This man is the minister of China," the lama 
 went on, indicating the amban who had been speak- 
 ing. " He says that the foreign devils are at your 
 gates, and the people wait but for your word to 
 destroy them." 
 
 ' ' Tell him I shall never give that word. All 
 foreigners are not devils. Those that come from 
 beyond the snows have come to help my people to 
 assert themselves as the defenders of the faith that 
 was old when that of Islam was born. It is on the 
 north we must marshal our forces. The Russian 
 bear is growling — — " 
 
 An interruption here occurred. Most of the lamas 
 understood Hindustani. In fact, those who really 
 deserved their title were masters of many languages, 
 and the words of their great chief were pregnant to 
 them without interpretation. The Chinese officials 
 present likewise had gathered the import of this bold 
 
35o Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 Dalai Lama's speech, and*to them it was treason. A 
 great uproar ensued, in which it seemed most present 
 applauded and were upholding the Dalai Lama's 
 words. 
 
 Then the Chinese Amban, or kingmaker, burst 
 out in an impassioned discourse, and when he had 
 finished the interpreting lama began: "He says 
 that you are yet a minor, and know not what you 
 say, and that the Gyalpo as Regent is the real head 
 of the people. He has ordered the Gyalpo, as Amban 
 from the court of the Dowager at Peking, to give 
 the signal at once for the destruction of the British 
 force " 
 
 "Then I countermand it," cried the Dalai Lama, 
 rising from his throne. "I am King here, and 
 it is I, and I only, who give commands in this 
 palace." 
 
 "But you are not the real re-incarnation," shouted 
 one of the secret agents in Hindustani, "you are a 
 devil who has taken his place. The Oracle has said 
 that many devils would come here, but that the spirit 
 of the Blessed One would come in the body of one 
 who had the features of the great Gyalpo." 
 
 Again there was a commotion among the lamas, 
 and it seemed also that some were being roughly 
 handled by their comrades, who disagreed with 
 them. 
 
 "What says the Gyalpo himself?" cried a Chinese 
 lama. "Let him show his face, and we shall judge. 
 Why is he so silent?" 
 
 The interpreter explained the words of the last 
 speaker, and before the Gyalpo, who certainly was 
 unusually silent for one in his position, had answered, 
 the Dalai Lama thundered put boldly: " Because he 
 is afraid; he knows in his evil heart how he has 
 
'A MURMUR WENT UP FROM THE THRONG" 
 
Hail to the Dalai Lama! 351 
 
 sinned against my people and plotted to bring about 
 their degradation. I am now Priest and King; there 
 is no Gyalpo " 
 
 "Unmask! uncover!" yelled the lamas. "Hear 
 the words of wisdom which the Blessed One utters." 
 
 " I hear and laugh at them, as a strong man at the 
 prattle of a child," spoke the Gyalpo in a muffled 
 voice. " I have governed you without your feeling 
 it these last ten years, and been a faithful servant of 
 the Empress, whose subjects you all are " 
 
 He spoke in Tibetan, but a roar of anger inter- 
 rupted his words. His speech was never known to 
 him who- challenged his authority, for before it was 
 translated the Gyalpo stepped theatrically into the 
 middle of the room, crying: "You have heard the 
 words of the Oracle that for thousands of years has 
 not said an untrue word, but who has ever been 
 advising the people for their good. He who sits on 
 the throne is a false avatar; he is a demon in pos- 
 session of some stolen body. The Oracle hath said 
 the Dalai Lama who would sweep all foreign devils 
 back from the sacred land would be cast in my image. 
 Behold! and see who lies." 
 
 He pulled his long black cloak over his head, and 
 stood forth clad in the ordinary dress of a yellow 
 lama. The crowd surged round him. He faced 
 the Dalai Lama, a strange expression on his not 
 unhandsome face. This then was the dreaded Gyalpo, 
 whose face was known only to the officials and higher 
 lamas. A murmur went up from the throng, which 
 swiftly swelled into a mighty cry of wonder and 
 thankfulness. The features of both were identical, 
 only the Gyalpo's had a score or so more years 
 stamped upon his. 
 
 " Brothers, you are being cheated. All this is a 
 
352 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 trick," shrieked one of the ambans. "This is not 
 the Gyalpo's son, nor is that the " 
 
 A sledge-hammer-like blow felled him. Evidently 
 some of the lamas were powerful men. 
 
 "But it is still the Gyalpo who rules," cried one 
 of the secret agents. "The Dalai Lama is a minor." 
 
 The Dalai Lama had been ignorant of all that had 
 been said for some time, but guessing it was time to 
 bring about the denouement, he stretched out his 
 arms to enjoin silence, and cried: 
 
 "Years count but nothing when wisdom is in- 
 spired. What is the accumulated knowledge of man 
 compared with that which is, but of which he knows 
 not? Hath not the Oracle said one shall come from 
 over the snows and he shall be King? Who dares 
 dispute my powers? See! have I not given a proof? 
 Behold the mighty war god of our ancestors ! I have 
 given him back his sight, and once more we are a 
 fighting people." 
 
 The shout of joy which now re-echoed through the 
 vast palace was such as had not been heard probably 
 for a thousand years. One glance in the direction of 
 the neglected god had been enough, for his one eye 
 shone out brilliantly where for more centuries than 
 anyone knew had been a sightless hole. 
 
 "It is not the eye," cried one of the secret agents. 
 " It is all part of the trick." He spoke in Chinese. 
 
 "You lie!" hissed someone in the same language, 
 and the heavy thud which followed indicated that 
 that agent would remain stiil until removed. But 
 now the lamas had rushed up to the monstrosity. 
 The written records of their country's history had 
 said that he who would look into the eye would see 
 therein the reason of its wonderful powers. And all 
 looked, and saw, and were filled with devout thank- 
 
Hail to the Dalai Lama! 353 
 
 fulness. Who could doubt now? Deep in its trans- 
 lucent depths were the sacred symbols, " Om Mani 
 Padmi Hum." And clearly it was never the hand of 
 man that had written them there. And, as if to settle 
 all doubts for ever, the god himself suddenly boomed 
 out in sonorous tones : ' ' Hail to the Dalai Lama, 
 Brother of the Son of Heaven, and saviour of his 
 people ! " 
 
 He spoke in Chinese, but that was a mere detail, as 
 everyone present presumably knew that language. 
 
 Loud and long rang the shouts of joy and adora- 
 tion. A new era had truly begun for the sacred land, 
 and soon it would again take its place among the 
 fighting nations of the world. Then the lamas ran 
 back to the foot of the throne, and with deep and 
 sincere emotion prostrated themselves again and 
 again, unheeding the Dalai Lama's commands to 
 desist. 
 
 But a diversion occurred. "Devil, I know you!" 
 cried the second secret agent in pure English. 
 "Take that!" A revolver flashed in his hand and 
 a report barked out. But its leaden messenger went 
 high into the air, a lama near had sprung upon the 
 would-be assassin and knocked his arm upwards, even 
 as he had pulled the trigger. The bullet shattered a 
 glass window overhead, and showers of the fragments 
 fell down among the lamas. Next moment the man, 
 who would thus have rid them of their Head, was 
 lying on the ground with over a dozen on top of 
 him. 
 
 The Gyalpo had never taken his eyes off the figure 
 on the throne; several times he seemed about to speak, 
 but each time he had checked himself when just on 
 the point of utterance. 
 
 "Hail to the Dalai Lama, Lord of Speech and of 
 
 (09) 23 
 
354 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 Wisdom, and Brother of the Son of Heaven ! "' sang 
 the lamas in chorus, and now their numbers were 
 swelled until the room could not contain them. The 
 chorus was taken up outside in the grand reception 
 hall, and it rolled away down the long passages, until 
 the full eight thousand priests of the palace had 
 caught the refrain. 
 
 The Dalai Lama now prepared to speak, and at 
 orice a silence deep and profound ensued. No longer 
 was there any doubt of his powers, and woe betide the 
 mortal who thought differently. 
 
 "Take those men away!" he ordered imperiously. 
 " Place them where they shall not trouble further." 
 He indicated the two secret agents and the two 
 Chinese ambans, and at once eager hands lifted 
 them and carried them from his presence. 
 
 The Gyalpo now stood alone. " As for this man," 
 continued the Imperial one, "he has been a traitor to 
 the interests of my people, and has plotted to destroy 
 the British force sent here to help us to throw off the 
 claws of the great northern bear. Too long has our 
 country been closed to the advance of wisdom and 
 enlightenment. With this man ends those days. 
 We shall then take our place among the civilized 
 nations, and live at peace and goodwill with our 
 brother land beyond the snows, and with the great 
 empire of which it forms part. My brother, the Son 
 of Heaven, we shall also place in his rightful posi- 
 tion, for with our war god with us who can with- 
 stand us?" 
 
 "Of a truth nothing can stand against you, Most 
 Blessed One," chorused all. 
 
 "Then say what shall be done to this man," con- 
 tinued the youthful Lama, sublimely ignorant of what 
 they had said. His interpreter had left his side, and 
 
Hail to the Dalai Lama! 355 
 
 in any case his brain was beginning to reel under the 
 fierce tension at which his nerves were strung. 
 
 "Give him to the dogs!" cried the lamas as one 
 man ; and ignorant of the fate to which they had 
 assigned the strangely dignified Gyalpo, he muttered, 
 "So be it," and sank back upon the throne. 
 
 "Stop, Geegee! Stop them!" screamed a voice 
 in English. "That man is your father. Lay him 
 down, you devils, or — Quick, Cash Bags! Nana — 
 Oh! My God!" 
 
 Geegee opened his eyes. "Who spoke?" he mur- 
 mured. "Who said Cash Bags?" 
 
 He sank back again unconscious. He did not 
 see the wild struggle that took place before him, 
 nor was he aware that the flap in the wall had 
 been opened and the Gyalpo, with a cry on his 
 lips which no one understood, bundled through. 
 
 And this time there was no cloak bridging the 
 yawning wall, but out on the stair top was one 
 man, and he was cold and stiff. 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 The Secret of the Tomb-Keeper 
 
 Dawn lit up the summits of the barrier ranges which 
 almost completely surrounded the sacred city. Lower 
 and lower the light of day crept down the great slopes, 
 until at length the spires of the temple of Jo came 
 under its magic influence, and then the many other 
 temples and monasteries, which reared their cupolas 
 and flat -roofed walls within the walls of the city. 
 But the sun itself was not yet visible; its rays only 
 reached the holy city by reflection, for the gigantic 
 mountain chain had still to be surmounted by the 
 world's illuminator. 
 
 From the windows high up in the Potala several 
 men in lamas' robes gazed down upon their sur- 
 roundings, but it was with eyes that did not see 
 the glory of approaching day, nor take in the mar- 
 vellous contrasts of the scene which was gradually 
 opening before them. They were in the throne- 
 room, and pillowed on costly rugs and covered with 
 gold-embroidered fabrics, one slept on the throne 
 beside them. Meanwhile they spoke eagerly, but 
 in low voices. They did not wish to awake the 
 sleeper just yet. 
 
 "I can't do it, Wun Lung," said one brokenly. 
 
 856 
 
Secret of the Tomb- Keeper 357 
 
 "It is more in your line. Oh, why did I not 
 know the language, and thus been able to act 
 sooner!" 
 
 "We did all that mortal could do to avert it, 
 G. W.," answered he who was addressed as Wun 
 Lung. "But oh, what a finish to our mission! To 
 think of how he rose to the occasion, how he has 
 saved the British army, completed our work, and 
 started the wave which shall roll back for ever the 
 fear of Russian advance upon India." 
 
 " But the cost, Wun Lung! How can we tell him 
 that his father was the Gyalpo who caused all the 
 trouble, and that he is now before a greater throne 
 than even the Dalai Lama's?" 
 
 "And where is our own Lama, and C. H. J., and 
 Mac?" put in another long-robed lama. 
 
 "Who can say?" replied Wun Lung. "C.H.J, 
 and Mac were here, I know, for I saw the secret agents 
 go down under a blow which could only be given by 
 Mac, and he who accounted for the three high 
 Chinese officials in the reception room was C.H.J." 
 
 " Well, boys," said G.W., "our work is done, but 
 we've had to wade through blood enough to drown us 
 first. The poor old Lama has gone, and Geegee's 
 father — although maybe it was best that he should pay 
 for his misdeeds before the British got here — and I 
 don't know how many Shokas " 
 
 " I don't agree with you at all," said Cash Bags 
 stoutly. "Either that man was not Geegee's father, 
 or he was not the Gyalpo. I am certain that these 
 two people could not be the same, and I'll fight 
 any man who says they were, for Geegee's sake." 
 
 "Cash Bags," cried Wun Lung, "I would give 
 
358 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 my right hand to feel assured on that point, but 
 G. W. gave the information." 
 
 "Look here, boys," spoke G. W. "We're likely 
 all that is left of our crowd, and for the last time 
 I give you my straight thoughts. After this should 
 we escape, let us forget for ever — may my tongue be 
 cut out if I ever repeat it again — the fact that the 
 Gyalpo was he who was once known as Captain 
 Gray. C.H.J, whispered it to me, and do you think 
 that poor Nana Sing would have jumped through 
 that hole after him, if he had not recognized his 
 old master? No, boys, the fact remains, but only 
 we know. Poor brave Geegee, I vote we never 
 tell him." 
 
 The sleeper stirred as he spoke and moaned un- 
 easily. 
 
 " But you haven't settled the point I raised," put in 
 Cash Bags. "Allowing that the man thrown down 
 that hole was Geegee's father, what proof have you 
 that he was the Gyalpo? He went to his death as 
 a British officer, neither cringing nor asking for 
 mercy. I say he was not the Gyalpo, and that 
 Geegee ought to be told that his father died to 
 save the British force; for assuredly if he had made 
 the slightest claim, or made himself known in any 
 way, everything would have been ruined, and we 
 should all now be food for the dogs." 
 
 " The only man of sense among you," spoke a loud 
 voice. " Captain Glay was not the Gyalpo." 
 
 All turned quickly, the voice issued from the war 
 god. 
 
 "Don't be flightened," it continued, "I cannot 
 stay in hele longel " 
 
Secret of the Tomb-Keeper 359 
 
 "Frightened?" snorted G.W., advancing to the 
 god. " I guess it's not in my line to be afraid of 
 anything, alive or dead, after this. Come out, you 
 howling fraud, and I'll drill holes in you." 
 
 "Then I no' come out. Pola Lee Tang no' like 
 holes in "him. No' wanty catchy cold." 
 
 "Pola Lee Tang!" exclaimed Wun Lung in 
 amazement. "Where is he?" 
 
 " Inside this stuffy ole god, an' vely much wanty 
 get out. You take away that fellow with gun, Mistel 
 Missionary, an' I come out an' pay my lespects." 
 
 " Come out, then," cried G. W. before Wun Lung 
 could reply. " If you are the fellow who helped us 
 back at the devil-dancing bridge, I guess we've no 
 call to get rusty with you. Come out and tell us what 
 you know." 
 
 "Oh, I know blame lot," answered the god. 
 "Knock me down so that I can come out below. 
 This blamed god too heavy fol one fellow to fling 
 about." 
 
 Cash Bags and several other lamas who, if their 
 yellow robes were discarded, would greatly resemble 
 Shokas, at once proceeded to lay the god in a hori- 
 zontal position, and from its base crept the gigantic 
 Chinaman known as Pola Lee Tang, the notorious 
 brigand. He smiled genially all round, and then 
 with an effort of his great strength threw the god 
 back into position. 
 
 "I vely muchy like to fling that god thlough 
 window," he remarked casually, as he turned to the 
 group. "He gave me plenty bad time, an* you 
 fellows too slow to catch cold." 
 
 " Never mind that. You tell us all you know, and 
 
360 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 how it happened that you became the controlling 
 spirit of the war. god," G. W. interrupted. "Our 
 time is vely sholty, and you will have to talky talky 
 muchy muchy, and quicky quicky." 
 
 "You must be Amelican man," said the China- 
 man. "You no' play the game. Pola Lee Tang 
 help you. Why you no' help him?" 
 
 "We shall," said Wun Lung. "Only explain 
 things as far as you know. How long have you 
 been inside that god? and who really is the 
 Gyalpo?" 
 
 " I have been inside that god since aftelnoon. 
 I lode into Lhasa behind you, and at once paid 
 my lespects to the late Dalai Lama, a fellow blodel 
 of the Son of Heaven. But I know things he didn't 
 know, so I got inside god an' waity.and watchy. By 
 an' by Gyalpo an' othel high lamas came in hele 
 an' say to each othel Dalai Lama must die to-night, 
 because the Blitish come quick an' he no say stop 
 them " 
 
 "Yes, yes, we know all about that," G.W. broke 
 in. " We've been frauds ourselves, and already 
 know that the Dalai Lama was killed because he 
 happened to be a Brother of the Son of Heaven, 
 and therefore favourably disposed to the British oc- 
 cupation of Lhasa as a set-back to Russia and the 
 old Dowager Empress of China." 
 
 "You vely lude man. If you know evelything 
 what fo' you ask me to explain?" 
 
 " We are interested only in that boy sleeping on 
 the throne," said Wun Lung. "How did he come 
 there? And was that really the Gyalpo who went 
 to his death through that hole in the wall?" 
 
Secret of the Tomb-Keeper 361 
 
 "How my young blodel came hele will nevel be 
 known unless he can tell himself. Seclet agents 
 plaps could say, but they dead by this time. Aftel 
 Dalai Lama was thlown to the dogs, down undel 
 the tombs, I waity and watchy to kill the new Dalai 
 Lama. He was to be the Gyalpo's son, fol the 
 Olacle had said it — he would have died, too, if he 
 hadn't. Well, I watchy an' see new Dalai Lama 
 come thlough the same hole the old one went out, 
 an', just as I am going to shoot him, I lecognize my 
 young blodeL My wold ! he have no flies on him, an' 
 I almost dlop with shock when he lun up to me 
 an' puty eye into me. Then I tumble to tings an' 
 get leady to help him " 
 
 " But the Gyalpo?" cried Cash Bags. " Was that 
 man who was hurled through the wall the Gyalpo?" 
 
 "You in too much quicky too. I see my young 
 fliend get leady to play big game, an' I no undel- 
 stand until I see that no high Chinese lamas nol 
 fliends of the Gyalpo come in among clowd, then 
 I suspect. I am sule when the Gyalpo shows him- 
 self. I then see you fellows have got whip hand, but 
 I not yet know why you lety the Gyalpo be killed." 
 
 "What do you mean?" cried G.W. "Didn't he 
 deserve his fate?" 
 
 "Why? He help you muchy. I no' killee man 
 help me." 
 
 "But as Gyalpo he would have disobeyed the 
 Dalai. Lama's commands and — ■. — " 
 
 " You must be vely big fool you no' see he did that 
 to make lamas angly with him. Why he wanty do 
 that, he no' fliends with him. I will tell you. He 
 no Gyalpo at all. He one of you fellows." 
 
362 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 "Howling hyenas! I see it all now," cried G. W. 
 "And we've made a tragedy out of what might have 
 been a comedy. Cash Bags, you were right. The 
 man was not the Gyalpo, he was only impersonating 
 him; but he was Geegee's father." 
 
 G.W. groaned and covered his face with his hands. 
 "There has been a horrible blunder on our part," 
 he went on after a moment's silence. "We played 
 blazes with the crowd that killed the real Dalai Lama, 
 but there were others on the same racket as us. 
 The lamas who were also brothers of the Son of 
 Heaven, and Pola Lee Tang's gang, and Geegee's 
 father were all playing the same game and we didn't 
 know it. The real Gyalpo, who intended his son to 
 fill that throne, was knocked out of count by someone, 
 and Geegee's father, by some means we shall never 
 
 know, took up his role, and Oh, boys, I cannot 
 
 think of the rest." 
 
 "The lest is vely simple," said the big Chinaman. 
 "The new Dalai Lama will call his people to battle. 
 He will make an alliance with the blodels of the Son 
 of Heaven, and " 
 
 "Hold on there, you diminutive Celestial!" cried 
 G.W. "The new Dalai Lama will not do much 
 more than he has done. Failing the Lama and Mac, 
 I am going to be his prime minister, and Cash Bags 
 can be the Gyalpo if we need one. Wun Lung will 
 be chancellor of the exchequer, and our bold, bad, 
 and blamed fine Shokas will be our secret agents. 
 You yourself can be commander-in-chief of the 
 army." 
 
 "I think the new Dalai Lama will resign first - 
 opportunity," observed Wun Lung. "His work is 
 
Secret of the Tomb-Keeper 363 
 
 accomplished, and if we only had our comrades, and 
 could leave things in good hands, I think he and his 
 present cabinet ministers would make all speed to the 
 British lines." 
 
 "Then you don't wanty lule this country?" asked 
 Pola Lee Tang, raising his eyebrows in surprise. 
 
 " No, you can do that yourself if you have any taste 
 for that sort of work," G.W. informed him. 
 
 "Then you leave all to me? You just take plenty 
 muchee gold and melt away?" 
 
 "We'll melt away without taking any gold," said 
 Wun Lung, "if you can arrange that our, or rather 
 Geegee's work, will not be undone, and another 
 Gyalpo with anti-British ideas appointed." 
 
 " I'll be Gyalpo myself," the Chinaman laughed, 
 "an* I make evelyting light fo' leceiving the Blitish 
 folce in the town. The new Dalai Lama will shut 
 himself upy to play fol long time an' see no one. 
 Vely well, a gland lama of Daipung will be Jalno 
 in his place. I will make muchy sule that he is one 
 of oul blodels, an' all will be light. But, as a Plince 
 of the leigning Chinese dynasty an' head of the 
 levolutionaly palty, I cannot allow my young blodel 
 and his fliends to leave Lhasa, aftel they have done so 
 much fo' the Blodels of the Son of Heaven, without 
 being well paid. You just taky walk lound palace 
 an' see what you likee. Tleasule chambel full of gem- 
 stones an' odel things people in Blitain like muchy 
 muchy." 
 
 "No," said Wun Lung, "we want nothing. We 
 have done our work, so far as those who are left of 
 us know. It was an accident that our mission and 
 yours was of a similar nature, and perhaps fortunate 
 
364 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 for both parties. Still, you are by no means obliged 
 to us, and we will go our way in peace, as soon as 
 you can assure us that the policy of the Govern- 
 ment will be favourable to Britain, and that the' 
 eye of the war god will be well guarded in future 
 against thieving Chinamen." 
 
 "My wold! evely Chinaman who comes into this 
 thlone loom who is not a blodel of the Son o 
 Heaven will be cuty upy. The time of old China 
 is dead. Young China want to be fliends with 
 Blitain an' Nippon. No' wanty steal eye again. 
 The Sons of Heaven will be head of tlue faith with 
 Dalai Lama only so long as the gleat god sees. The 
 Olacle has said that when no Gyalpo in Lhasa to heal 
 what he said." 
 
 "Then if you will go and give orders that the 
 Dalai Lama is not to be disturbed in his medita- 
 tions, and see about getting us poor mortals some- 
 thing to eat, I shall vote you a blamed good 
 Chinkie," said G. W., yawning. "I guess a good 
 feed would go all right now, and Geegee must be 
 feeling the same way." 
 
 "All light; you waity hele until I come back," 
 cried Pola Lee Tang. "I'll go and give the Dalai 
 Lama's oldels now." He rushed away, and G. W. 
 looked at Wun Lung anxiously. 
 
 "I believe he is honest," he said, "but I move 
 we clear out of this before he comes back. He might 
 want his Son of- Heaven Brotherhood to get all the 
 credit of restoring that thing's sight, and there's no 
 telling how a yellowskin reasons. Let us wake Gee- 
 gee and go " 
 
 "Thanks, G. W.," came a voice from the throne; 
 
Secret of the Tomb- Keeper 365 
 
 " I've been awake this last half-hour or so. I didn't 
 speak because I thought I was still dreaming, and 
 I didn't recognize you until I heard the nature of 
 your conversation. I don't know what you meant 
 when you were talking of my father, but what did 
 you mean when you said the Lama, Mac, and 
 C. H. J. were lost? And how did you come here? 
 Were you captured also? I have had an awful time, 
 and I missed you all terribly." 
 
 Geegee came down from his elevated position and 
 joined his comrades, giving a cry of delight as he 
 beheld the transformation scene still being effected by 
 increasing daylight over the sleeping city. Clearly 
 he had not heard all that had been said, or even that 
 note of joy would have been denied him. 
 
 " We know you have had an experience beyond 
 the powers of human comprehension other than your 
 own ever to appreciate fully, Geegee," said Wun 
 Lung gently; "but your comrades were never far 
 away from you, although they dared not tell you." 
 
 " Whatl do you know what happened to me?" 
 
 " Not all, but sufficient to enable us to guess what 
 is Outside our knowledge. Nana Sing saw you 
 being seized by a gang of men, acting under the 
 supervision of our old enemies, the secret agents. 
 He sent a Shoka to inform us, and followed your 
 captors through the deserted streets, and out by 
 one of the gates right up to the Potala. You were 
 taken through an entrance guarded by soldiers, 
 which led into the tombs, and there our knowledge 
 ends for a time; for, despite Nana Sing's efforts, 
 he could not get past the soldiers after you. It 
 was dark when we came up, followed by all the 
 
366 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 Shokas; and Mac and C. H.J. at once led us round 
 to some chokdens 1 at one end of the great slaughter 
 yard. These monuments were built over a subter- 
 ranean passage, which had evidently fallen into dis- 
 use, but, while some of us fought off the savage 
 dogs, the rest uncovered the tunnel, and we came 
 through into a chamber not far from here. It was 
 then that we missed the Lama, but we could do 
 nothing. One of the Shokas says he saw him 
 strangling a dog at the entrance to its own kennel, 
 at the base of the Potala rocks, and perhaps he is 
 now quite safe somewhere " 
 
 "Safe!" cried Geegee, "and his comrades in 
 trouble? Never! the Lama is dead or " 
 
 "We'll investigate that presently, young man," 
 interrupted G.W. "Hear our story, and then we'll 
 form our plans." 
 
 " We got to the reception room outside this one 
 in time to see the Dalai Lama sent to his doom," 
 went on Wun Lung, "and, determined at all costs 
 to hold the entire Potala until we had found you, 
 we hid behind the curtain, and felled each lama as 
 he came out. It was awful work, but we had to 
 do it. The Gyalpo and one or two of his officials 
 escaped, because they had used some other means 
 of exit, but at any rate they did not know what was 
 happening to their friends. We then dressed our- 
 selves in the robes of those we had captured, and 
 mixed with hundreds of other lamas who had just 
 come up, and who apparently did not see our work. 
 G. W. and the Shokas disposed of the unconscious 
 bodies by some means I don't know, and we came 
 
 1 Large stones bearing the sacred inscriptions. 
 
Secret of the Tomb-Keeper 367 
 
 in here with the crowd. Quickly realizing that some 
 miracle had been worked, for we recognized you at 
 once, Geegee, and also gathering that the lamas 
 around us were anything but favourably disposed 
 towards the — Gyalpo, we watched and waited for 
 any opportunity to help you. But you needed little 
 help, and our work consisted only of attacking 
 any obstinate-minded man likely to prove trouble- 
 some, and bundling him from the room. It seems, 
 however, that we were not alone in doing this, for 
 Pola Lee Tang had a strong force of Brothers of 
 the Son of Heaven present; in fact, I now believe 
 most of the lamas of this place belong to that order, 
 and they worked powerfully for us. There is little 
 need to say more; you carried everything before 
 you, and swooned away when all was over. Then 
 your interpreter ordered the room to be cleared to 
 allow of your resting, and, strange to say, every- 
 one obeyed. We came back, and have been keep- 
 ing guard ever since; but I strongly suspect that 
 the Brothers of the Son of Heaven are even now 
 watching too outside. Pola Lee Tang, as you 
 know, was inside the war god. Now, Geegee, we 
 have done what we came to do; let us get away; 
 you can tell us your story as we go." 
 
 " But Mac and C. H. J.?" asked Geegee. " Where 
 are they?" 
 
 "Oh, they'll turn up all right," said G.W. cheer- 
 fully. He did not express his true thoughts, however. 
 
 "Well, until I see them and the Lama around 
 me I am going to remain Dalai Lama. Then I 
 am going to turn this palace upside down in search 
 of my father." 
 
368 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 "Geegee!" cried Cash Bags despairingly; "come 
 away now." 
 
 The others could not meet the boy's eyes. 
 
 "You are keeping something back from me," he 
 cried, noticing their faces. "What has happened? 
 Tell me!" 
 
 "Don't ask just now, Geegee," entreated Wun 
 Lung. "Tell us your story instead." 
 
 "Oh, it is much simpler than it might appear. 
 The tomb-keeper was a decent fellow, and he seemed 
 to know that the Dalai Lama was to be killed that 
 night. He asked me to help him to frustrate the 
 designs of the Gyalpo and place his own son on the 
 throne as his re- incarnation, and we were just in 
 time to catch the Dalai Lama as he was thrown 
 through into the well. I then dressed myself in his 
 clothes, came through the wall there, replaced the 
 eye, and acted as you know." 
 
 "You caught the Dalai Lama as he fell?" repeated 
 Wun Lung in utter astonishment. 
 
 "Yes, he is somewhere in the tombs now, alive 
 and well but for fright." 
 
 "Jumping Gyalpos!" exclaimed G. W. "I can 
 see you and I playing that game of dice yet, Cash 
 Bags. The old Dalai Lama is alive ! Complications 
 are getting pretty thick." 
 
 "But where is the tomb -keeper now, Geegee?" 
 asked Wun Lung anxiously. 
 
 " Beyond that wall. Come, we'll go to him. He 
 can lead us all through the underworld. I'll make 
 him Governor of Lhasa before I resign my Dalai 
 Lamaship." 
 
 One of the Shokas operated the machinery con- 
 
Secret of the Tomb-Keeper 369 
 
 trolling the trap in the chamber, and after seeing 
 that the floor was fixed, Geegee scrambled through, 
 and his comrades, with some Shokas, followed. 
 They were broken-hearted over the loss of their 
 leader, the generous and chivalrous Nana Sing. 
 
 "Here he is, and asleep," cried Geegee, opening 
 the door beyond, which communicated with the stair- 
 way leading down into the tombs. A Shoka had 
 lit a torch. 
 
 " It is his last sleep," said Wun Lung reverently. 
 "He is dead." He bent over the inanimate object, 
 and raised one of the arms. 
 
 " Who can have done this?" wailed the lad. " He 
 was a good man and faithful to the Dalai Lama, and 
 but for him all would have been lost." 
 
 " I don't think so, my young blodel," spoke a voice 
 beside them, and Pola Lee Tang joined the party on 
 the stairs. "That is the Gyalpo." 
 
 The men looked at each other. "Then where is 
 the tomb-keeper?" cried Geegee. "He wasn't the 
 Gyalpo." 
 
 " My little blodel, you thlew him down that hole 
 to the dogs." 
 
 Wun Lung groaned aloud, and G. W. muttered 
 some unintelligible sounds. 
 
 "Oh! then my dream was true after all," moaned 
 Geegee. " I thought I had only dreamt that someone 
 was thrown through the wall. Ah! I remember now. 
 There is something wrong here. It was the Gyalpo 
 who was given to the dogs. This can't be he " 
 
 His comrades were silent, but the big Chinaman 
 was frankly communicative. " Wha' fo' you wolly?" 
 he said to the boy. " Gyalpo must have come lound 
 
 (09) 24 
 
37o Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 hele to see that Dalai Lama did go down to dogs. 
 He meet tomb-keepel. He die. Tomb-keepel 
 become Gyalpo, an' he go to dogs. Plenty mole 
 tomb-keepel. He muchee bettel dead; no' tell any 
 tales dead." 
 
 " Oh, you long-legged, yellow sinner," blurted out 
 G. W., unable to restrain his feelings longer. The 
 truth was too appalling for the mind to dwell upon. 
 " You'll be better dead too. Stand out and I'll carve 
 you. You knew who the tomb-keeper was." G.W. 
 had drawn his knife, and the light in his eyes showed 
 that he meant what he said. 
 
 The Celestial smiled. "You Amelican fellow vely 
 foolish," he remarked. " Why you wanty killy me? 
 What you fellows do without me? I no' know, nol 
 cale who tomb-keepel is. I say get plenty muchy 
 mole. I thlow you down to dogs too, as easy as look 
 at you " 
 
 " I'll chance that," interrupted the reckless one. 
 "You're big and ugly enough, but I've met your 
 kind before. Out with your carver and sail in I" 
 
 " If you no' in vely big hully you might waity till 
 I tell why I am hele just now. You lemembel, too, 
 in the plesence of the Dalai Lama thele must be no 
 blood spilt." 
 
 "I'm better now," said G.W. " I don't want your 
 blood. I see you didn't know what you were say- 
 ing." 
 
 " It often wise to thinky two times," Pola Lee Tang 
 laughed. " But listen. I come to tell the blessed 
 Dalai Lama that the Blitish folce is at the gates of 
 the city. They make gleat match all night, and 
 wanty know if Gyalpo mean to fight ol make peace. 
 
Secret of the Tomb-Keeper 37 * 
 
 The Commandel also lequests a talky talky with the 
 Dalai Lama at his convenience." 
 
 " Send messengers to tell him that there is now no 
 Gyalpo," answered Geegee promptly, "that the eye 
 of the war god has been restored, and that there is 
 peace between us. Throw open the city to him, and 
 treat him and his soldiers as honoured guests." 
 
 "Thy commands, most blessed Lama, shall be 
 obeyed," Pola Lee Tang replied. " If you will come 
 to the windows of one of the looms facing the killy- 
 killy place you can see the whole Blitish almy." 
 
 " Gosh! can we?" cried G.W. " I always thought 
 it was a model one, but I never dreamt it was of a 
 pocket edition size. My! who will be watching 
 London now?" 
 
 " Policemen and out-of-work bus drivers," sug- 
 gested Cash Bags. 
 
 "Ask the officers up to breakfast, Geegee," went on 
 G.W., ignoring Cash Bags's information. "I should 
 like to see their faces, when they hear of how they 
 were only saved from annihilation by your quick- 
 change performance." 
 
 "No," said Wun Lung thoughtfully, "I don't 
 think the Lama would have liked that. Our mission 
 was a secret one, and as such we must keep it. In 
 fact, I am sure that the British Government wishes the 
 other Powers to think that merely a punitive expe- 
 dition advanced on Lhasa." 
 
 " But, hang it, Wun Lung, you can't help them 
 knowing that the people here didn't put up the fight 
 they might have done, and they will not be long 
 in finding out the reason." 
 
 "They will nevel know," said the big Chinaman. 
 
372 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 "There was one big fight at Gyangtse, and as the 
 Dalai Lama fled as the Blitish apploached Lhasa, 
 it will all looky quite light." 
 
 "But the Dalai Lama didn't run away," put in 
 Cash Bags. "Either he is dead, or Geegee is he." 
 
 "That is exactly as my little blodel wishes. The 
 odel Dalai Lama was led thlough the tombs by some 
 of my men. He was too good, and too soft-healted, 
 an' too muchy muchy playel man to stand out against 
 the Empless, an' he is now mokin' big scooty to 
 Peking to the plotection of his blodel the Empelol. 
 He will die on the way, and will nevel be seen 
 again." " 
 
 "But what about my work, then?" asked Geegee. 
 "The people already know that the old Dalai Lama 
 died, therefore they will think it is I who have run 
 away, and if they get it into their heads that the 
 looked-for deliverer of their country fled before the 
 British, won't they turn against them also, and in 
 fanatical fervour, now that their god sees, cut them 
 up? It was to arouse the Tibetans against Russian 
 aggression that we came here, and to break up the 
 secret alliance between that power and the Dowager 
 Empress of China. Ah, if only the Lama were 
 here!" 
 
 " Don't you wolly, my deal blodel," said the China- 
 man. ' ' The wolds of the gleat Dalai Lama flom ovel 
 the snows will live fol evel in the people's memoly. 
 To-day all the lamas will tell them to the people 
 in all the temples an' shlines thloughout the countly, 
 an' they will know Blitain is the fliend of the Faith- 
 ful." 
 
 " But how will you account for the flight of the 
 
Secret of the Tomb-Keeper 373 
 
 old one?" asked G. W. dubiously; "and if you do 
 explain that away, how are you going to get over 
 the sudden disappearance of the new one? I am 
 sure Geegee has more to do than play Dalai Lama 
 for a lot of praying pilgrims " 
 
 "I hear someone coming up these stairs," inter- 
 rupted Cash Bags. " He is groaning horribly too." 
 Signing to some Shokas to follow him, he ran down 
 into the darkness, and Pola Lee Tang, after a moment's 
 pause, made answer to G.W. 
 
 " The people will nevel know of the flight, and the 
 Olacle has said that the gleat delivelel flom ovel the 
 snows will not stay long among his people. If 
 you likee, though, I will make him say anything 
 else—" 
 
 "Great New York! Is your Oracle a fraud too?" 
 asked G.W. 
 
 "Olacle a vely muchee good ting," the other an- 
 swered with a laugh. ' ' He do what he is told, ol 
 a lama will be missing at playels. I will make him 
 say that Dalai Lama only come to save his beloved 
 countly an' went back again, but will come again 
 aftel long time. Meanwhile I will be Gyalpo, an' 
 Gland Lama I know will act in his place until he 
 comes back. That all lighty, an' you fellows can 
 all go away with Blitish folce, with the playels 
 of the people and the blessings of the Blodels 
 of the Son of Heaven " 
 
 " I guess we don't value either at more than a 
 dollar," observed G'.'W. "But. as it is clear you 
 have matters arranged with the cunning of a Chinkie, 
 we can now consider our leader's intentions carried 
 out, and attend to looking after our own carcasses. 
 
374 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 That is, of course, as Geegee says, for I reckon he 
 is our boss now." 
 
 "I will never leave this place without the Lama," 
 Geegee said; " and I have also to make certain of my 
 father's fate. I do not regret the killing of the Gyalpo. 
 He must have been the man answerable for whatever 
 has befallen my father " 
 
 " Geegee," cried Wun Lung imploringly. " Come 
 away now. Seek not to ascertain further. Our work 
 is done, better even than the Lama himself could have 
 hoped for. Once in the British lines we will be 
 among friends who know our lost comrades, and 
 they will help us to find them. Come, Geegee, let us 
 away " 
 
 "No, no. Stay where you are. I've got Mac! 
 C. H. J. and the Lama are alive ! " shouted a voice 
 from the stairs, and into the torchlight zone there 
 came Cash Bags and the Shokas bearing a burden 
 between them. The burden was a human being in 
 long robes which had once been yellow, but which 
 were now stained crimson with his blood, and torn 
 and tattered into strips and fragments. 
 
 " Mac!" yelled Geegee and G.W., rushing to meet 
 the grim procession, " where have you been?" 
 
 "The Lama, and C.H.J., and — and others," feebly 
 spoke the Scot, glancing round the faces of his com- 
 rades, as if to read how things were with them, and 
 how much they knew, "are at the bottom of the well, 
 but they are almost done, and the dogs are off their 
 chains and becoming more numerous every moment. 
 Get a rope, quick! I'm going down again " 
 
 Before he had finished speaking G.W. had sprung 
 through into the throne-room and was tearing down 
 
Secret of the Tomb-Keeper 375 
 
 the priceless tapestry curtains which adorned its walls. 
 Pola Lee Tang had also rushed away. Wun Lung 
 tenderly bent over his comrade — he had been deposited 
 at the head of the stairs near the dead Gyalpo — and 
 the Shokas who had been carrying him followed the 
 Chinaman. 
 
 "C.H.J, and I suspected who the Gyalpo was," Mac 
 gasped, catching Wun Lung's eye and changing his 
 intended sentence. "We ran out when we saw you 
 had the mob well in hand. We knew that the dogs 
 are supposed to get their prey alive, and thought we 
 might be in time. We got down to the holes in 
 which they usually are chained, one end opening on 
 the pool at the bottom of the well, and the other on 
 the slaughter yard where they feed at night. But 
 the dogs had been set free, and hundreds tore at us, 
 as we wriggled through their long holes. At the 
 far end, in the pool, we found the Lama. He had 
 guessed things and gone there first. Nana Sing was 
 with him, and they were fighting with their knives 
 and fists, rending the animals in pieces by sheer 
 strength, as they flew at them in hordes. Gee — a 
 man lay beside them, and it was to save him they 
 struggled so desperately. The Lama's strength was 
 almost gone — he had been fighting there for hours 
 alone. We joined in with all the killing power left in 
 us, but the Lama soon said it was useless trying to kill 
 the demons; for hundreds surrounded us and hun- 
 dreds more fought behind them to get at us. If no 
 help came from above it would soon be all over 
 with us, for we could never carry the unconscious 
 man through the low tunnels and fight at the same 
 time. There was only one chance, and I took it. 
 
376 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 I left my comrades and fought my way out again. 
 I entered the tombs by the secret door, and here I am. 
 Get a rope quick and let me down " 
 
 " Is the — man still alive, Mac?" asked Wun Lung, 
 stanching Mac's wounds in crude fashion, but as 
 gently as possible. 
 
 <«He is " 
 
 "And he'll be here in two shakes," cried G. W., 
 reappearing with long strips of curtain knotted to- 
 gether in his hands. " Open this man -trap, some of 
 you fellows who know how it works. I guess I'm 
 good for all the sacred dogs in Lhasa." He fastened 
 one end of his improvised rope round the body of one 
 of the lions supporting the throne, and dropped the 
 other end into the abyss, which suddenly opened in 
 the little chamber, in answer to the manipulation of 
 some levers in the throne-room, which a Shoka evi- 
 dently knew. And the fierce roars and angry snarls 
 of starving, fiendish dogs floated up from beneath, 
 but never a sound to indicate that living men were 
 also there. G.W. gripped the rope. "Let me get 
 down first before you follow," he said to his comrades. 
 " This rope may not carry two at a time " 
 
 "Back! Back!" shouted a voice, and Pola Lee 
 Tang burst through the aperture and stood over the 
 gulf, a foot on either side. His long limbs made this 
 easily possible. 
 
 " This is our picnic," said G.W. quietly. " Stand 
 out of the way or I'll empty my shooter into you." 
 
 "Aftelwalds if you like," replied the Chinaman. 
 " Pola Lee Tang have come to help his little blodel. 
 He now guess who tomb-keepel is. He will save him 
 ol die with him " He held up to view a small 
 
Secret of the Tomb- Keeper 377 
 
 casket as he spoke, and there flashed into Wun 
 Lung's mind his intention. The box contained a 
 famous Chinese drug, known only to the mystic 
 Brotherhood of which Pola Lee Tang was a member; 
 but he had no time to speak. With an angry ex- 
 clamation G. W. threw his revolver at the big man 
 and with knife in teeth swung down into the well. 
 
 "Foolish fellow I" the Chinaman exclaimed, catch- 
 ing the weapon and handing it to Cash Bags, who 
 seemed also about to attack him. "He just makey 
 muchy mole wolk." He tested the rope with a pull, 
 and with a lighted torch followed the American, 
 crying as he disappeared, "Let no man come 
 down fo' five minutes." 
 
 And Wun Lung understood. The sounds below 
 grew fainter and fainter, and even G. W.'s voice, at 
 first heard clearly above the din, became silent. Then 
 Wun Lung seized the rope. " When I signal, pull 
 up," he said to Cash Bags. 
 
 " No," cried Geegee, " I am going down; you will 
 be more useful on top." 
 
 Before Wun Lung had grasped his intention he 
 had caught the rope and slid down out of sight. 
 And what a scene confronted him! He was in a 
 pool almost similar to that in which he had for- 
 merly fought for his life in the Red Monastery. 
 Lying on the surrounding ledge, half out of the 
 water and half in, were the Lama, the man who 
 was either the Gyalpo or the tomb-keeper, Nana Sing, 
 C.H.J., the American, and the big Chinaman. Hun- 
 dreds of gaunt, bleeding dogs were scattered every- 
 where, in heaps, and floating in the water; G. W. 
 also, having the throat of a huge monster in each 
 
378 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 hand. All were still and silent, and a faint sickly 
 odour pervaded the atmosphere. It was now fully 
 apparent to Geegee what Pola Lee Tang had done: 
 man and dog alike had been overcome by the fumes 
 of some subtle drug. 
 
 Making a sling, such as Mac had taught him to 
 construct for like emergencies, he carefully bound in 
 the man whom the Lama had evidently so carefully 
 guarded, whether tomb-keeper or Gyalpo, and shouted 
 out to those above. Instantly the man was borne 
 aloft, pulled up by the strong hands of the ever-ready 
 and faithful Shokas. In time the rope came down 
 again, and Geegee sent the Lama up. He did not 
 know how Nana Sing had happened to be among 
 the others, but, as he seemed to have suffered severely 
 in the fray, being simply a bleeding mass of humanity, 
 he was the next passenger for the upper regions. 
 C. H. J. followed, then G. W., and when the rope 
 again descended the huge Chinaman was bundled 
 into the sling. Lastly Geegee himself went aloft, 
 and as two Shokas caught him at the top and pulled 
 him through the aperture into the throne-room, the 
 rope was cut and allowed to fall into the pool, and 
 the trapdoor closed. 
 
 All the men had now recovered; they were assembled 
 together. The Lama came forward. "Geegee," he 
 said with some emotion, "I know all. Wun Lung 
 has just told me that you have carried through the 
 work of our mission by a feat unprecedented in the 
 annals of the world's history. I will not waste time 
 in thanking you just now, that can be done later; but 
 allow me to have the greatest pleasure my life has 
 ever known, by being the one to present you to your 
 
Secret of the Tomb- Keeper 379 
 
 father." He stood back, and next moment the man, 
 who had been hurled through the wall by the Dalai 
 Lama's orders, and Geegee were in each other's arms. 
 
 G. W. seized Pola Lee Tang round his enormous 
 waist, and began waltzing round the room with him, 
 and the Shokas set up a shout of joy that must have 
 been heard throughout the whole Potala. The bells 
 of the city's halls and temples were ringing out 
 a peal of gladness in honour of the Dalai Lama, and 
 of welcome to their future friends, the mighty people 
 from beyond the snows. 
 
 Captain Gray looked round on the faces of the 
 party, and his eyes first rested on his old servant. 
 "Ah, my faithful Nana Sing," he said, grasping the 
 smiling Shoka's grimy hand, "I knew you would 
 find me some day. I have been a prisoner here for 
 ten years, but in that time I have played many strange 
 parts. Captain Deverell, I have heard of your brave 
 attempts to discover my fate, but I could make no 
 sign to you. I was Lama of the tombs, and the out- 
 side world was barred to me." 
 
 "Captain Deverell!" exclaimed Geegee in amaze- 
 ment. "Who is he?" 
 
 " I am that person, Geegee," said the Lama quietly. 
 " My face will wash white too." 
 
 "You are Tom Deverell, the man who gave me 
 the boot to carry?" 
 
 " Have you ever seen this before?" The Lama 
 held up a small article in his hand. 
 
 "My knife!" cried Geegee, gazing at the object in 
 dimly comprehending wonderment. " I dropped it 
 
380 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 down the chimney on the end of a string to Tom 
 Deverell " 
 
 "And Tom Deverell now gives it back to his 
 youthful friend of the chimney-top, as he said he 
 would," said the Lama smilingly. "Geegee, the 
 friendship begun then has been the most precious 
 thing in my life, and here, in the most inaccessible 
 room on earth, I for the first time thank you for what 
 you did that night. The hand of Providence was in 
 it all " 
 
 " Cash Bags, kick me, or I'll drop dead with speech- 
 lessness," cried G. W. "The Lama isn't a nigger 
 after all." 
 
 " Who ever said he was?" asked Mac. " Did you 
 think we had the monopoly of coffee-stained skins?" 
 
 G. W. gasped, but no words came ; his astonish- 
 ment was beyond measure. Geegee, too, said nothing. 
 Words were beyond him at the time. 
 
 "And don't you remember a certain Jalno and 
 Logon of long ago?" continued Mac, addressing Cap- 
 tain Gray. " They are both here just now, and their 
 faces will wash as white as your own when we gain 
 the British lines." 
 
 "Surely I remember my old comrade Lyndhurst," 
 answered he who had been the tomb-keeper. "We 
 had many a strange adventure together on our sur- 
 vey missions." He advanced towards C. H. J., who 
 was standing quietly near, and laid his hand caress- 
 ingly on his shoulder. 
 
 "What, Gray?" cried the little man. "Can you 
 really recognize in my poor ill-shapen frame the com- 
 rade of your earlier days? And did you know I had 
 been Logon?" 
 
Secret of the Tomb-Keeper 381 
 
 " My dear old friend, by a metamorphosis unplea- 
 sant to recall to memory, I became Lama of the tombs 
 the day I heard of the fact. I had thought you were 
 many thousands of miles from Lhasa at the time, for, 
 you remember, I sent you the eye of the idol, which 
 had been lost for centuries." 
 
 " But you were the Logon yourself the year before 
 me," cried C.H.J. "I couldn't leave until I had 
 avenged your fate." 
 
 "The story of my escape is not for the present, 
 my dear comrade. The tomb- keeper's experiences 
 can wait." 
 
 "We all know the story of the tomb-keeper," put 
 in Mac. "Don't you remember telling me?" 
 
 ' ' Yes, you were the Jalno, and I visited you with the 
 express purpose of killing you and effecting another 
 change in my character. I discovered your identity 
 in time, however, and then helped you all I could to 
 bring about my old comrade's escape. I, of course, 
 dared not leave the tombs." 
 
 A silence fell upon all. Words were hopelessly 
 inadequate to express the emotions of any. Geegee 
 feared he would awake suddenly. He held his father's 
 hand, it certainly felt tangible, and he also kept the 
 Lama in sight, as if he thought he would disappear. 
 His mind had not become accustomed to the startling 
 changes which had taken place, and he felt almost 
 sure he was under hypnotic influence, if not really 
 dreaming. 
 
 Pola Lee Tang broke the silence. "You all come 
 now an' have bleakfast," he said. "I have sent fo' 
 Blitish officels to come hele to meet the Dalai Lama." 
 He looked at Geegee enquiringly. 
 
382 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 " No," cried Geegee, " no more of that for me. I 
 have resigned." 
 
 Captain Gray looked at his stalwart son affection- 
 ately. "Yes, Geegee," he said, "between us we 
 have filled every office in the Tibetan calendar, and 
 have not disgraced our positions. But we'll take a 
 rest now, and be ourselves. I will hardly take kindly 
 to uniform again, though." 
 
 "I heal them in the leception hall," went on the 
 self-appointed Gyalpo of Lhasa. "I will tell them 
 that the Dalai Lama has gone and left no addless, 
 but that you fellows will be vely pleased to meet old 
 fliends. What a sulplise they will get!" 
 
 They did. 
 
 "Cash Bags," said G. W. that night, as, safe in 
 the chief serai in the town, they sat and smoked, and 
 listened to the peals of bells which continually rang 
 out from the many temples in joyous chorus, "the 
 ways of civilized governments are as dark and pecu- 
 liar as are those of the heathen Chinee. Just listen 
 to the racket all round. The people are all mad with 
 joy, and I'll bet they couldn't tell you why. Look 
 at those Ghoorka and Shoka soldiers of King Edward 
 fraternizing with the Tibetan men of war, and kick 
 me if there are not even some pigtailed fighters in the 
 crowd. I guess the millennium has come along." 
 
 "You mentioned the ways of governments?" sug- 
 gested Cash Bags tentatively, turning his prayer- 
 wheel. 
 
 "Yes, I was going to say that the British War 
 Office is not so much asleep as some people think, 
 after all. It has engineered this bit of melodrama, 
 
Secret of the Tomb- Keeper 383 
 
 and I'll bet no other Power could have done it so 
 well and quietly. People will never know why the 
 British force came here. Some may think the idea 
 was to strike a backhand blow at Russia, and to 
 smash up the Russo-Chinese alliance; others that it 
 was to compel China to guarantee the integrity of 
 Tibet against the aggression of any other Power, 
 and thus have the Indian frontier preserved without 
 guarding it with British soldiers; and a few wise 
 folk will see in the expedition an attempt to force 
 the old Dowager's hands on behalf of the progres- 
 sive but helpless Emperor." 
 
 "But what do you think?" asked Cash Bags, his 
 eyes lighting up as he saw Geegee, Captain Gray, 
 the Lama, and the others approach with some of the 
 officers of the British army of occupation. 
 
 "I think, as I said before, that it was to find 
 Captain Gray and restore him to his people, and all 
 the other talky-talky is intended to throw dust in the 
 eyes of some of Britain's kind Continental neigh- 
 bours. Britain doesn't need to trouble about Russia 
 now, and Japan has smashed up the proposed alli- 
 ance. As for the Emperor of China, I don't believe 
 he was ever given more than a thought, and I'll bet 
 my prayer-wheel that, if he doesn't get our friend 
 Pola Lee Tang down to Peking to watch him, the 
 old Dowager will soon get rid of him in the same 
 way as the Gyalpos do with superfluous Dalai 
 Lamas." 
 
 " I think that when the Emperor dies, the Brothers 
 of the Son of Heaven will see that the Dowager 
 doesn't live long after," said Cash Bags. 
 
 "I don't care," G. W. replied. "We've done our 
 
384 Through the Heart of Tibet 
 
 work, and no army of soldiers, Russian, Chinese, or 
 tomb-keepers, can destroy its effects. Long life to 
 the next Dalai Lama!" 
 
 "I am going with Geegee and Captain Deverell 
 on another expedition," announced Cash Bags irre- 
 levantly. 
 
 "And you can bet my bell I'm going too," said 
 G. W. 
 
 "Get ready, boys!" cried Geegee, coming forward 
 just then. " We are invited to the state dinner in 
 the Potala with the British officers. Pola Lee Tang 
 has been proclaimed Regent of Tibet." 
 
 "And to-morrow we leave for England and home," 
 said Captain Gray joyfully. Captain Deverell and he 
 were now dressed as befitted their military rank, and 
 in their handsome features no one would have recog- 
 nized the Lama and the tomb-keeper. 
 
"English boys owe a debt of gratitude to Mr. Henty." — Athenmum. 
 
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 G. A. HENTY 
 
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 [4*3 (1) A 
 
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BLACKIE'S STORY BOOKS FOR BOYS 
 
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 — Academy. 
 
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 A Tale of 
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 J o lands (1585-1604). Illustrated 
 
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 trated. New Edition. y. 6d. 
 
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 to read it conscientiously, they can hardly fail to be profited as well as pleased." 
 
 , — The Times. 
 <*> 
 
STORIES BY G. A. HENTY 
 
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 The Lion of St. Mark: A Tale of Venke Illus- 
 
 trated. Cloth elegant. 
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 : California. Illustrated. 
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 peculiar to Mr. Henty." — Academy. 
 
 Captain Bayley's Heir: A ] 
 
 -When London Burned: ^ «£££«% 
 
 J. FlNNEMORE. 6s. 
 
 "A handsome volume, and boys will rejoice to possess it. . . . It will undoubtedly 
 become a standard work." — Record. 
 
 - A March on London : A Story ° f w * W 3 
 
 Insurrection. Illustrated 
 by W. H. Margetson. $s. 
 
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 Illustrated by Wal Paget. With a Map. $s. 
 
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 o enck. Illustrated by Gordon 
 
 Browne, R.I. 5*. 
 
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 (3) 
 
BLACKIE'S STORY BOOKS FOR BOYS 
 
 G. A. HENTY 
 
 Bonnie Prince Charlie: $1??* T ,TT7?£ 
 
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 Gordon Browne, R.I 6s. 
 
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 trated by W. H. Overend. $s. 
 
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 story of the campaign is very graphically told.'— St, James's Gazette. 
 
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 o J Tippoo Saib. Illustrated 
 
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 Overend. 5s. 
 
 " Stanley Brooke's pluck is even greater than his luck, and ha is precisely the boy 
 to hearten with emulation the boys who read his stirring story." — Saturday Review. 
 
 — "Wnlf the* Qovnn • A Story of the Norman Conquest. 
 VVU1I UlC OdAUll. mustrated by Ralph Peacock. 6j. 
 
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 -With Kitchener in the Soudan: A , A I ale 
 
 of Atbara 
 and Omdurman. Illustrated by W. Rainey, r.i. With 3 Maps. 6s. 
 
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 At the Point of the Bayonet : 
 
 A Tale of the 
 MahrattaWar. 
 Illustrated by Wal Paget. With 2 Maps. 6j. 
 
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 (4) 
 
STORIES BY G. A. HENTY 
 
 G. A. HENTY 
 
 Through Three Campaigns: ^Z°tZ, 
 
 and Ashanti. Illustrated by Wal Paget. With 3 Maps. 6j*. 
 
 "Every true boy will enjoy this story of plucky adventure." — Educational News. 
 " Gives animation to recent history, and its confident art and abundant spirit will 
 greatly satisfy the intelligent and spirited boy." — Dundee Advertiser. 
 
 -St. George for England: *™ rf, £X£ 
 
 by Gordon Browne, r.i. $s. 
 
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 determination and enthusiasm can accomplish marvellous results. " 
 
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 Wal Paget. 6j. 
 
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 trated by William Rainey, R.I. 6s. 
 
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 (5) 
 
-By 
 
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 With the Allies tO Pekill: A Story of the Relief 
 
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 oiicci r w^K. . {rated by GoRDON Br0WNE) ri Sj . 
 
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 (6) 
 
STORIES BY G. A. HENTY 
 
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 A Roving Commission: °r, Through the Black 
 
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 (7) 
 
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 (8) 
 
Blackie & Son's 
 
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 (9) 
 
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 " Altogether an unusually good story. 1 ' — Yorkshire Post. 
 
 -With Rifle and Bayonet: %%*>£££$ 
 
 Wal Paget. $s. 
 
 " The book is one the British boy will read and treasure."— Newcastle Journal. 
 
 -With the Dyaks of Borneo: %™**J£ 
 
 Illustrated by Fritz Bergen. Large crown 8vo, 6s. 
 
 " Young readers must be hard to please if With the Dyaks does not suit them.'' 
 
 — Spectator. 
 
 Tn trip T^ino-'c ^prvirp • A Tale of Cromwell's In- 
 
 - in tne King s service . vasion of Ireland Illus . 
 
 trated. 5J. 
 
 " The book is calculated to stir the pulses of all readers, but of boys especially." 
 
 — Liverpool Courier. 
 
 -A Hero of Lucknow: t^lt^SZ 
 
 Rainey, r.i. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 5^. 
 
 " Full of action and picturesque adventure. A splendid hook for boys, as Captain 
 Brereton's always are.' —British Weekly. 
 
 - In the Grip of the Mullah: ^°ll°7^' 
 
 " A fresher, more exciting, and more spirited tale could not be wished for." 
 
 —British Weekly. 
 (10) 
 
BZACKIE'S STORY BOOKS FOR BOYS 
 
 ALEXANDER MACDONALD 
 
 The White Trail • A Story of the Early Days of 
 
 X UC VV111LC Xld.ll. K i ond ik e . Illustrated by W. 
 Rainey, R.i. With a Map. Large crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 
 olivine edges, 6s. 
 
 " The interest of the story never slackens. It is kept up by a series of exciting 
 incidents and by the sayings and doings of as strange and as true a little group of 
 characters as chance ever brought together. . . . One of the most powerful stories 
 Mr. Macdonald has yet given his young readers." — Glasgow Herald. 
 
 -The Tsland Traders • A Tale of the South Seas> 
 
 X lie lbldllU XldUClb. illustrated by Charles M. 
 Sheldon. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, "$s. 6d. 
 
 "The story is replete with excitement, which is well sustained throughout. . . . 
 No better book for an older scholar could be desired." — Teachers' Aid. 
 
 -The Pearl Seekers: A S ' 01T °cf Adv T? !V!! e 
 
 Southern Seas. Illustrated by 
 Edward S. HODGSON. Large crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine 
 edges, 6s. 
 
 ' ' This is the kind of story a boy will want to read at a sitting. From start to finish 
 it is full of stirring incidents that delight the hearts of boys." — Schoolmaster. 
 
 - The Quest of the Black Opals : $£%*£ 
 
 in the Heart of Australia. Illustrated by W. Rainey, r.i. Crown 
 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 5j. 
 
 "An admirable tale . . . the difficulties and dangers that ensue are numerous, and 
 show Mr. Macdonald 's excellent powers as a storyteller." — Westminster Gazette. , 
 
 -The Lost Explorers: A St ° ry ^!JV ra ' klf f 
 
 r D esert. I llustrated by 
 
 Arthur H. Buckland. Large crown 8vo, cloth, olivine edges, 6j. 
 
 "As splendid and as vivid a narrative as any boy could wish to read." 
 
 — Daily Graphic* 
 
 HARRY COLLINGWOOD 
 
 -A Middy in Command: A J a t,° n f the fZ 
 
 trated by Edward S. Hodgson. Large crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 
 olivine edges, 6s. 
 
 " A thoroughly good yarn of the right sort. . . . The book is full of incident, has 
 a healthy tone, and is the right thing for Englishmen in the making. "—Globe. 
 
 (») 
 
BLACKIE'S STORY BOOKS FOR BOYS 
 
 HARRY COLLINGWOOD 
 
 -Under the Chilian Flag: i™ ^^ 
 
 Peru (1879-1881). Illustrated by W. Rainey, R.I. Crown 8vo, 
 cloth elegant, olivine edges, $s. 6d. 
 
 " In Under the Chilian Flag Mr. Collingwood writes of naval warfare in a fashion 
 likely to hold the close attention of any boy into whose hands the book may fall." 
 
 —Morning Post. 
 
 STAFF SURGEON T. T. JEANS, R.N. 
 Mr. Midshipman Glover, R.N.: £ e T ^ 
 
 Navy of To-day. Illustrated by Edward S. Hodgson. Large 
 crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, $s. 
 
 " Will probably prove one of the most successful boys' books of the season." 
 
 — Evening Standard. 
 
 HERBERT STRANG 
 
 The Adventures of Harry Rochester: 
 
 A Story of the Days of Marlborough and Eugene. Illustrated. 6s. 
 
 " In The Adventures of Harry Rochester Mr. Strang has written one of the best 
 stories of a military and historical type we have seen for many a day." — Athetueum. 
 
 - Boys of the Light Brigade : * |^ rf pj£! 
 
 sular War. Illustrated. 6s. 
 
 Professor Oman (Chichele Professor of Modern History at Oxford, and author of 
 A History of the Peninsular War) writes: "I can't tell you what a pleasure and 
 rarity it is to the specialist to find a tale on the history of his own penod in which 
 the details are all right . . . accept thanks from a historian for having got historical 
 accuracy combined with your fine romantic adventures ". 
 
 -BrOWn Of Moukden: AStory of the Russo-Japanese 
 
 War. I llustrated. 5 s. 
 
 "The incident of the locomotive race down the Siberian Railway is, for breathless 
 interest, the equal of anything we know of in the whole range of juvenile fiction. . . . 
 The book will hold boy readers spellbound."— Church Times. 
 
 TV\m "RnT-noKfr A Stor y of Uganda and the Great 
 — ± Om DUmaDy . Congo Forest. Illustrated. Crown 
 8vo, cloth, olivine edges. 5.?. 
 
 " Told with a vigour and enthusiasm that will stir the heart of any boy. A 
 delightful story of African adventure." — Spectator* 
 
 (12) 
 
BLACKIE'S STORY BOOKS FOR BOYS 
 
 ROBERT M. MACDONALD 
 
 The Great White Chief: a story f Adven- 
 
 ture in Unknown 
 New Guinea. Illustrated by W. Rainey, r.i. Large crown 8vo, 
 cloth elegant, olivine edges, 6s. 
 
 " A narrative of intense interest from first to last. A rattling story told with spirit 
 and vigour." — British Weekly. 
 
 DAVID KER 
 
 Under the Flag of France: a Taie* Bert™*! 
 
 D du Guesclin. Illus- 
 
 trated by STANLEY L. WOOD. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine 
 edges, $s. 
 
 " Under the Flag of France is one of the best stories of the season, dealing with 
 the adventures of Bertrand du Guesclin in delightful style." — Globe. 
 
 - Among the Dark Mountains : or ' c f ' a *' ay 
 
 o in Sumatra. 
 
 Illustrated by Frances Ewan. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 3s. 6d. 
 
 "Aglorious tale of adventure." — Educational News. 
 
 ERNEST GLANVILLE 
 
 The Diamond Seekers: a story of Adventure 
 
 m South Africa. Illus- 
 trated. 6s. 
 
 "We have seldom seen abetter story for boys.''--Guardian. 
 
 -In Search of the Okapi: ^[1^7^ 
 
 trated. 6s. 
 
 "An admirable story." — Daily Chronicle. 
 
 MEREDITH FLETCHER 
 
 Every Inch a Briton : A s™5ZJ Uustra ^ 
 
 J by Sydney Cowell. $s. 6d. 
 
 " In Every Inch a Briton Mr. Meredith Fletcher has scored a success." 
 
 — Manchester Guardian. 
 
 - Jefferson Junior : tf£°t St r ory - I !! ustrat t h 7 h R : 
 
 J J Burgess. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 
 
 3J. 6d. 
 
 " A comical yarn. . . . The boy who does not break out into sudden fits of uncon- 
 trollable laughter on reading it has no fun in his bones." — Yorkshire Daily Observer. 
 
 <>3) 
 
BLACKIE'S STORY BOOKS FOR BOYS 
 
 FREDERICK P. GIBBON 
 
 The Disputed V.C. !^ ted 3 , by STANLEY u 
 
 "A good, stirring tale, well told."— Graphic. 
 
 G. MANVILLE FENN 
 
 Ri invin T 3 n H • ■^ mon S the Blackfellows in New Guinea. 
 
 / r " Illustrated. 3-y. 
 
 " One of the best tales of adventure produced by any living writer." 
 
 — Daily Chronicle. 
 
 -In the King's Name, illustrated. 3s. 6d 
 
 " Mr. Fenn has won a foremost place among writers for boys. This is, we think, 
 the best of all his productions in this field." — Daily News. 
 
 Tiirt f\ f-Vif* Fpnc • A Romance of the Great East 
 
 -i^icK o me rens. Swamp> IUustrated by Frank 
 
 Dadd. Cloth elegant, olivine edges, y. 6d. 
 
 " We conscientiously believe that boys will find it capital reading."— Times. 
 
 Dr. GORDON STABLES, R.N. 
 
 The* Ma veil CaAf>t • A Story of Adventure on Land 
 
 ine iMavai v^aaet . and Se£L Illustrated by w . 
 
 Rainey, r.i. 3s. 6d. 
 
 "An interesting travellers' tale, with plenty of fun and incident in it." — Spectator. 
 
 - For T ife and T inert v • A Tale of the civil War 
 -ror i_,ue ana i^iDerty . inAmeriau with Illus . 
 
 trations and Map. 3s. 
 
 " The story is lively and spirited, with abundance of blockade running, hard fight- 
 ing, and narrow escapes. " — Times. 
 
 -To Greenland and the Pole: ££*££ 
 
 Illustrated. $s. 
 
 " The adventures are actual experiences. It is one of the books of the season, 
 and one of the best Dr. Stables has ever written." — Truth. 
 
 FRED SMITH 
 
 The World of Animal Life. ™ w by F p RED 
 
 Smith. Pro- 
 fusely illustrated with Engravings after F. Specht and other 
 eminent artists. 5s. 
 
 "An admirable volume for the young mind enquiring after Nature." 
 
 — Birmingham Gazette. 
 (14) 
 
BLACKIE'S STORY BOOKS FOR BOYS 
 
 A. J. CHURCH 
 
 Lords of the World: ^ Tale °' ? e F !!| of ^ 
 
 thage and Corinth. Illus- 
 trated by Ralph Peacock. $s. 6d. 
 
 "As a boy's book, Lords of the World deserves a hearty welcome." — Spectator, 
 "An excellent story." — Daily Chronicle, 
 
 G. I. WHITHAM 
 
 Sir Sleep-Awake and his Brother: 
 
 A Story of the Crusades. Illustrated by N. Tenison. is. 6d. 
 
 " The writer has framed a stirring story that will hold the attention of young 
 readers and give them very real ideas of those stirring times." — Schoolmaster. 
 
 ESCOTT LYNN 
 
 When Lion-Heart was King: *™° Ho « 
 
 and Merry Sherwood. Illustrated by William Rainey, r.i. 
 Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 3^. 6d. 
 
 "A lively tale of Robin Hood . . . certainly the adventures follow thick and fast." 
 
 — Birmingham. Post. 
 
 CHARLES R. KENYON 
 
 'Twixt Earth and Sky: ^L^t^l 
 
 Illustrated by Charles Horrell. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 
 olivine edges, 3s. 6d. 
 
 " A capital story of adventure. ... It is written brightly, and has a novel plot." 
 
 — Globe. 
 
 DOROTHEA MOORE 
 
 Oofl's "RfllTfl • ^ ^tory °*" the ^ en Country. Illustrated. 
 Gilt edges, 3s. 6d. 
 
 "An excellent tale, most dainty in execution and fortunate in subject." — Globe. 
 
 " Miss Dorothea Moore may be warmly complimented upon her pretty and touch- 
 ing story." — Guardian. 
 
BLACKIE'S STORY BOOKS FOR BOYS 
 
 WALTER C. RHOADES 
 
 For the Sake of His Chum: £ toiy "niS 
 
 trated by N. Tenison. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 
 
 " The characters are manly, and there is a breeziness about the book which is sure 
 to commend it." — Athenaeum. 
 
 -TWO Scapegraces: A School Story. Illustrated by 
 r o Harold Copping. Crown 8vo, 
 
 cloth elegant, olivine edges, y. 6d. 
 
 " A school story of high merit. ... It maintains the interest of the reader through- 
 out, and boys will revel in its well-told incidents of school life. " — Liverpool Mercury. 
 
 PAUL DANBY 
 The Red Army Book, with many illustrations 
 
 / in colour and in black- 
 
 and-white. 6s. 
 
 " Every boy would glory in the keeping and reading of such a prize."— Daily Telegraph. 
 
 J. CUTHBERT HADDEN 
 
 The Nelson Navy Book. with , maii y mirations 
 
 / in colour and in black- 
 
 and-white. Large crown 8vo, cloth, olivine edges, 6s. 
 
 "A stirring, heartening tale, bold and bracing as the sea itself." — The Standard. 
 "An ideal book for boys." — Sheffield Telegraph. 
 
 PERCY F. WESTERMAN 
 
 A J a A rvf f'iMt • ^ Story of Adventure on Land and 
 f\ LjdU. OI VjOt . Sea in Res t or ation Times. Illus- 
 trated. 2j. 6d. 
 
 "A capital book for boys." — Record. 
 
 W. C. METCALFE 
 
 Pigtails and Pirates : A Taleof the Sea. Illustrated 
 o by W. Rainey, r.i. 2 j. 6rf. 
 
 " An exceptionally good story of the sea. . . . The characters are individual 
 beyond the common." — Globe. 
 
 (16) 
 
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