Sebuah Perjalanan ke Lhasa dan Tibet Tengah/Bab 6

CHAPTER VI.

RESIDENCE AT LHASA.

Preceded by Pador carrying his long lance and by Tsing-ta driving the pack-pony, we entered the city. The policemen (korchagpa)[1] marked us as new-comers, but none of them questioned us. My head drooped with fatigue, my eyes were hidden by dark goggles, and the red pagri around my head made me look like a Ladaki. Some people standing in front of a Chinese pastry shop said, as I passed, "Look! there comes another sick man; small-pox has affected his eyes. The city is full of them. What an awful time for Tibet!"

After a few minutes’ ride we came to the Yu-tog zamba, a short stone bridge with a gate, where a guard commanded by a lama is stationed, which examines all passers-by to ascertain the object of their visit to the city. To the great delight of my companions, who had been most anxious about my getting over the bridge, we passed by without a question being asked us.

Near the bridge I noticed the doring,[2] a monolith on which is an inscription in Tibetan and Chinese. Though a thousand years old, the stone has been but little affected by the weather, and the characters can be easily read. The monolith I took to be between eight and ten feet in height, and it stands on a low pedestal.

At the Yu-tog zamba the city proper begins. The street on both sides was lined with native and Chinese shops; in front of each was a pyramidal structure, where juniper spines and dried leaves obtained from Tsari are burnt as an offering to the gods.

Coming to the street to the south of Kyil-khording,[3] we found on either side of it Nepalese shops several stories high, also Chinese ones, where silk fabrics, porcelain, and various kinds of brick-tea were exposed for sale.

A lama guided us from this street to the Bangye-shag, a castle-like building three stories high, the residence of Sawang Phala, the husband of my protectress, the Lhacham. Leaving me at the postern gate, my two companions went in and presented the lady with a khatag, and she directed them to take me to Paljor rabtan, a building belonging to the Tashi lama, where all officers and monks from Tashilhunpo find lodgings when in Lhasa, and where we would be given accommodations.

The gateway of Paljor rabtan was about eight or nine feet high and five feet broad, and from the lintels fluttered fringes about a foot and a half broad.[4] Two stout flag-poles 20 to 25 feet high, carrying inscribed banners, stood on either side of it. Ascending a steep staircase, or rather a ladder, we came to a verandah, opposite which was a pretty glazed house, the dwelling of the khang-nyer (or "house-keeper"), and were soon given by him a room to lodge in, and served with tea and chang by an old woman. From the window of our room we could see the damra, or grove of poplars and willows in a marshy bit of land adjacent to the Tangye-ling monastery, and further west shone the lofty gilt spires of Potala.

May 31.—The heavy shower which had fallen last evening cleared up the atmosphere, and the gilt domes and spires glittering in the morning sun filled me with delight, and I had difficulty in subduing my impatience to visit all the monuments now before me, and of which I had dreamed of for so many years. At 7 o'clock Pador brought me a pot of tea prepared in the house of the water-carrier; but, instead of butter, tallow had been used in its preparation, and I could not swallow it;[5] but we managed, after a while, to make some in our own room. Shortly after Tsing-ta came in, bringing a pair of rugs, two cushions, and two little tables he had borrowed at the Bangye-shag. He had also an invitation from the Lhacham to visit her in the afternoon.

Having shaved and donned my lama costume and goggles, we started for Bangye-shag, which was about a mile from our lodgings. Most of the shops we saw were kept by Kashmiris, Nepalese, or Chinese; the Tibetan ones were few and poorly supplied.

Bangye-shag is a lofty, flat-roofed stone building with two large gateways. The ground floor is used as storerooms and quarters for the amlas or retainers of the Phala estates. The beams, the cornices, as also the window-frames, are painted red; a few of the windows have a little pane of glass in them, but most of them are covered with paper. On reaching the second floor, the Lhacham’s maids (shetama) greeted me most kindly, and insisted on my taking a cup or two of tea, after which they led me to her ladyship’s room, where, taking off my hat, I presented her a visiting scarf (jadar) and a piece of gold of about a dzo weight.[6] Making motion to one of her maids to present me a scarf, she kindly wished me welcome ("Chyag-peb nang chig, Pundib la "), and bade me take a seat ("Pundib la, shu dang shag, shu dang shag "). After conversing with her a while about my recent illness, and telling her of the kindness of the Dorje Phagmo, that merciful Lady of the Lake to whom I owe my life, I took my leave and returned home.

June 1.—June 1 is the holiest day of the year, saga dawa,[7] the day of the Buddha's nirvãna, and incense was burnt on every hilltop, in every shrine, chapel, lamasery, and house in or near Lhasa. Men, women, and children hastened to the sacred shrine of Kyil-khording (or Jo khang, as it is commonly called), to do puja to the Jo-vo ("Lord Buddha") and obtain his blessing. All carried in their hands bundles of incense-sticks, bowls of butter, and khatag of all sizes and qualities. Our fellow-lodgers went with the rest, calling at my room on the way out, and in a short time we also joined the crowd.

A broad street runs in front of the Jo khang, and the road which comes from the Pargo kaling gate terminates on its western face, and here grows a tall poplar said to have sprung from the hair of the Buddha. Beside this is the ancient stone tablet erected by the Tibetans in the ninth century to commemorate their victory over the Chinese, and which gives the text of the treaty then concluded between the Emperor of China and King Ralpachan.[8]

The magnificent temple engrossed, however, all my attention. In front of it is a tall flag-pole, at the base of which hang two yak-tails, some inscriptions, and a number of yaks and sheep-horns. In the propylon of the chief temple (Tsang khang), the heavy wooden pillars of which are three to four feet in circumference, and about twelve feet high, upwards of a hundred monks were making prostrations before the image of the Lord (Jo-vo) on a throne facing the west. This famous image of the Buddha, known as Jo-vo rinpoche, is said to have been made in Magadha during the lifetime of the great teacher.[9] Visvakarma is supposed to have made it, under the guidance of the god Indra, of an alloy of the five precious substances, gold, silver, zinc, iron, and copper, and the "five precious celestial substances," probably diamonds, rubies, lapis-lazuli, emeralds, and indranila.

The legend goes on to say that the image was in the first place sent from India to the capital of China in return for the assistance the Emperor had given the King of Magadha against the Yavanas from the west. When the Princess Konjo, daughter of the Emperor Tai-tsung, was given in marriage to the King of Tibet, she brought the image to Lhasa as a portion of her dowry.

The image is life-size and exquisitely modelled, and represents a handsome young prince. The crown on its head is said to be the gift of Tsong-khapa, the great reformer. The Kunyer said that the image represented the Buddha when at the age of twelve; hence the princely apparel in which he is clothed and the dissimilarity of the image to those seen elsewhere.[10] On the four sides of it were gilt pillars with dragons twined around them, supporting a canopy. On one side of the image of the Buddha is that of Maitreya, and on the other that of Dipankara Buddha.[11] Behind this, again, is the image of the Buddha Gang-chan wogyal, and to the right and left of the latter those of the twelve chief disciples of the Buddha.

We were also shown the image of the great reformer, Tsong-khapa, near which is the famous rock, called Amolonkha, discovered by Tsong-khapa.[12] On this rock is placed the bell with a gem in the handle, supposed to have been used by Maudgalyayana, the chief disciple of the Buddha.

After the image of the Buddha, the most celebrated statue in this temple is that of Avalokiteswara with the eleven faces (Shen-re-zig chu-chig dzal). It is said that once King Srong-btsan gambo heard a voice saying that if he made a full-sized image of Shenrezig, all his wishes would be granted him; so he constructed this one, in the composition of which there entered a branch of the sacred Bo tree, some soil of an island in the great ocean, some sand from the River Nairanjana,[13] some gosirsha sandalwood, some soil from the eight sacred places of India, and many other rare and valuable substances. All these were first powdered, then, having been moistened with the milk of a red cow and a goat, made into a paste and moulded into a statue. To give it additional sanctity, the king had a sandalwood image of the god brought from Ceylon put inside of it.

This statue is also known as the "five self-created" (nya rang chyung); for the Nepalese sculptor who made it said that it had sprung into shape rather than had been moulded by him, and it is further said that the souls of King Srong-btsan gambo and his consorts were absorbed in it. It occupies the northern chapel in the temple, and is surrounded by the images of a number of gods and goddesses.

In the outer courtyard of the temple is a row of statues, among which is that of King Srong-btsan gambo and various saints and Pundits. On the porch of the Tsang-khang are images of the Buddhas of the past, present, and future. Innumerable other highly interesting images and votive offerings were shown us, among which I will mention a hundred and eight lamps made out of stone under Tsong-khapa’s directions.

Among the other objects of interest shown us was a stone slab (Padma pung-pa) which King Srong-btsan gambo and his wives were wont to use as a seat when taking their baths, and a life-size statue of Tsong-khapa surrounded by images of gods, saints, and worthies. In the room where these statues are seen, and which is closed by a wire lattice, is also a famous image of the god Chyag-na dorje (Vajrapani). When the iconoclast King Langdarma[14] began persecuting Buddhism, he ordered this image to be destroyed. A valet tied a rope around its neck to drag it from the temple, but he suddenly became insane, and died vomiting blood, and the image was left undisturbed.

In the outer court, or khyamra,[15] is the image of the god Tovo Metsig-pa,[16] by whose power the invading armies of China were routed in the war which immediately followed the death of King Srong-btsan gambo. Near it are statues of the king and his two consorts, and some huge yak-horns, of which the following anecdote is told to inquisitive pilgrims by the temple servants (kunyer). Ra-chung-pa, a disciple of the great saint Milarapa,[17] had been to India, and had there studied under the most learned masters all the mysteries of the faith, and had returned to Tibet filled with pride over his knowledge. Travelling to Lhasa with his master, they reached the middle of the desert called Palmoi-paltang, when Milarapa, who knew of the conceit of his disciple and wished to teach him a lesson, ordered him to fetch him a pair of yak horns lying near by. But Ra-chung-pa said to himself, "The master wants everything he sees. Sometimes he is as fretful as an old dog, at others as full of childish fancies as an old man in his dotage. Of what possible use can the horns be to him; he can neither use them for food, drink, nor clothing?" Then he asked the sage what he proposed doing with them. "Though it is not possible to say what may occur," replied Milarapa, "they will certainly be of use some time or other;" and he picked them up himself and carried them along.

After a while a violent hailstorm overtook the travellers, and there was not so much as a rat-hole in which they could find shelter. Ra-chung-pa covered his head with his gown, and sat on the ground till the storm had passed by. When he searched for the lama, he could see him nowhere; but he heard a voice, and, looking about, lo! there was Milarapa seated inside one of the horns. "If the son is the equal of the father, then," said the saint, "let him seat himself inside the other horn;" but it was too small to even serve Ra-chung-pa for a hat. Then Milarapa came out of the horn, and Ra-chung-pa carried them to Lhasa, and presented them to the Jo-vo.[18]

After visiting all the ground floor we climbed up to the second and third stories, where we were shown a number of other images, among which I noticed that of Paldan lhamo. By the time we had seen all the images we had exhausted our supply of butter, for Pador had put a little in every lamp lighted that day in the chapels. Those before the image of the Jo-vo were of gold, and each must have held ten or twelve pounds of butter.

By the time we reached our lodgings I was completely worn out, and passed the rest of the day in my rooms or on the housetop, the

view from which always charmed me, especially when the rays of the setting sun shone brightly on the gilded domes of the temples and palaces.

I was much troubled in my mind by hearing from Tsing-ta that small-pox was raging in town, even the keeper of our house, his wife and children, were down with the disease, and in every dwelling in the neighbourhood some one was ill with it.

On the following morning (June 2), after an early breakfast, I went to visit the famous shrine of Ramoche,[19] carrying, as on the previous day, a bundle of incense-sticks, some butter and khatags. We took a horribly muddy lane, where heaps of filth emitted a most offensive odour; then, turning northward, we crossed the Potala road at the north-west corner of the Tomse-gang, as the Kyil-khording square is commonly called, and passed by the lofty Wangdu chorten, which was built to bring under the power (wang, "power;" du, "to subjugate") of Tibet all the neighbouring nations. This spot is also called Gya-bum gang, for it is said that once during the Ming dynasty of China 100,000 (gya-bum) Chinese troops camped (gang) on the plain to the north of this chorten. Other accounts explain this name by saying that in the war with China, after the death of King Srong-btsan gambo, 100,000 Chinamen were killed in a battle near this spot.[20]

A few hundred paces beyond this place we reached the gate of Ramoche, the famous temple erected by the illustrious Konjo,[21] daughter of the Emperor Tai-tsung, and wife of King Srong-btsan gambo. It is a flat-roofed edifice three stories high, and has a wide portico. At the front of the building there is to be seen a very ancient inscription in Chinese, giving probably the history of the building of the temple. The image of Mikyod dorje (Vajra Akshobhya), brought here by King Srong-btsan’s second wife, a Nepalese princess, is of undoubted antiquity, even though the face of the statue is covered with gilding.

In the northern lobby are heaps of relics—shields, spears, drums, arrows, swords, and trumpets, and in a room to the left of the entrance, and shut in by an iron lattice, are a few very holy images. With the exception of a very small gilt dome built in Chinese style, I saw nothing strongly indicative of that description of architecture, and, taking it all together, Ramoche fell far short of the preconceived idea I had formed of it.[22]

Lay monks, or Serkempa, usually perform the services held at Ramoche, and half a dozen of them and a kunyer (sexton) live in the upper stories of the temple.

As we left the temple we were met by a party of singing beggars, who followed us to our house clamouring for solra, or alms; finally we sent them off with a karma, or the value of two annas. Had we given more we would have been persecuted by numerous other parties of these pests.

June 3.—A lama of Khams, whom I had met at Tashilhunpo, came to see me to-day. He told me that he was waiting for nine loads of silver from Tashilhunpo, on the arrival of which he would leave for Western China, coming back to Lhasa next March or April. I had heard at Tashilhunpo that he had a caravan of 700 mules, and carried on trade between Darchendo[23] and Lhasa. This Pomda[24] lama was a man of gigantic stature, something over six feet, well proportioned, and of great strength; he was well known to brigands, and none dared molest him. My further acquaintance with him confirmed me in the opinion I had formed of the Khambas. Though they are wild, they are devoted friends, and when once one becomes intimate with one of them, he will be faithful to the end.

I heard to-day the following story about the famous Regent Tsomoling and his social reforms: Once there came to Lhasa a lama pilgrim from Tsoni, in Amdo,[25] and he was admitted into the Sera convent, where he studied under a learned Mongol lama. After a few years the Amdo lama’s tutor returned to his home, and on parting he left his pupil a couple of earthen pots, a khatag, and a bag of barley, the most valuable things he possessed, as he told him. The pupil, disappointed with these gifts, carried the pots to the market and sold them for half a tanka, with which he bought butter that he put in the lamps burning before the great image of the lord (Jo-vo), praying that if he ever became Regent of Tibet, he might be able to reform the social customs of the country.

In the course of time he rose to the dignity of a teacher in his convent; then he became its abbot, or khanpo; and finally he rose to the rank of regent. One of the first acts of his administration was to expel all public women from Lhasa, and to compel all women to cover their faces with a coating of catechu, so as to hide their comeliness from the public view.[26] Women were also made to wear a bangle cut out of a conch-shell on their right wrist, by which they could be held when arrested. From his time also dates the use by women of aprons (pang-den) and of the present style of headdress, or patug. The old style of patug is now only worn by the wives (or Lhacham) of the Shape (ministers). He was the first of the Tsomoling lamas, and his reincarnations still inhabit the lamasery of that name behind Ramoche.

On June 4 I again visited the Jo khang.[27] After paying reverence to the Jo-vo and circumambulating his sacred throne, the kunyer poured some holy water (tu) into my hand from a golden vessel. In a little chorten in one of the chapels on the south side of the temple is kept a statue of red bell-metal, or li-mar, made, so says tradition, in the days of King Kriki, when men lived 20,000 years. For many centuries it was kept by the kings of Nepal; but when a princess from that country married King Srong-btsan gambo, she brought it to Tibet, and placed it in this temple, where it is the object of constant worship.

But perhaps the most revered of all the images in the Jo khang exclusive of that of the Jo, is that of Paldan lhamo (Srimati devi). The terrifying face of the goddess is kept veiled, but the kunyer uncovered it for us. This terrific goddess is regarded as the guardian of the Dalai and Tashi lamas. The chestnut-coloured mule she rides, the offspring of a red ass and a winged mare, was given her by the goddess of the sea. The saddle she sits on is the skin of an ogre, and the bridle and crupper are vipers. Kya dorje gave her dice with which to play for lives, and the ogres, or Srinpo, presented her a string of skulls, which she holds in her left hand, and the goblins that haunt graveyards gave her corpses, on which she feeds. In her right hand she holds a club given her by the god Chyagna-dorje. 'Twas in such fearful attire that she waged war against the foes of Buddhism, and became the greatest of all its guardian deities.

The chapel of Paldan lhamo is overrun by mice, so tame that they crawled up the kunyer's body. They are supposed to have been lamas in former existences. On one of the walls we saw a painting made with the blood of King Srong-btsan.

As we were walking home I saw some men hawking books, and told them what works I would buy if they could but procure them for me. They promised to bring them to me shortly.

The excellent brick-tea (du tang-nyipa) which I had brought from Tashilhunpo was now exhausted, and I was reduced to drinking a miserable quality known as gya-pa. Du tang, or first-quality tea, is more highly flavoured than the quality I liked, but it was too strong for me.

Tea was introduced into Tibet earlier than the tenth century, but it only became of universal use from the time of the Sakya hierarchy and the Phagmodu kings.[28] During the early part of the Dalai lama’s rule the tea trade was a governmental monopoly, and since the beginning of the present century, though nominally open to every one, the trade is practically in the hands of the officials.

Some notes on the mode of selection of incarnate lamas may not be out of place here. It used to be customary when selecting incarnate lamas to either decide by throwing dice or by some other trial of luck, or by taking the opinion of the College of Cardinals; but that method not giving perfect satisfaction, it was decided that the candidates should undergo certain examinations, which, together with the hints thrown out from time to time by the defunct incarnation as to where and when his successor would be found, helped in the determination of the lawful reincarnation.

From the middle of the seventeenth century down to 1860, when the Dalai lama, Tinle-gyatso, was chosen, the rightful reincarnation of a defunct saint was found out by the use of the golden jar, or ser-bum.[29]

Three years after the death of an incarnate lama the names of the different children, who it was claimed were his reincarnation, were taken down. These names, in the case of the Dalai or Tashi lamas, were sent to the regent for examination, after which the president of the conclave, in the presence of the Regent and the ministers, enclosed in tsamba balls slips of paper, on each of which was written the name of a candidate. In other tsamba balls were slips on which was written "yes" or "no," as well as some blank slips. All these were put together in a golden jar, which was placed on the altar of the principal chapel of Lhasa, and for a week the gods were invoked. On the eighth day the jar was twirled round a certain number of times, and the name which fell out three times, together with a pellet in which was a slip inscribed "yes," was declared the true reincarnation. Those who were sent to bring the reincarnated saint to Lhasa or Tashilhunpo submitted him to certain trials; as, for example, picking out from a number of similar objects the rosary, the rings, cup, and mitre of the deceased lama.[30]

In 1875, a year after the death of the Dalai lama Tinle-gyatso, the regent and the College of Cardinals consulted the celebrated Nachung Chos-gyong oracle[31] about the Dalai's reappearance, and the oracle declared that the reincarnation could only be discovered by a monk of the purest morals. It required, again, the supernatural powers of the oracle to find the future discoverer of the Grand Lama; he was the Shar-tse Khanpo of Gadan, a lama of great saintliness and profound knowledge. The oracle further stated that he should

go to Choskhor-gya, as the reincarnation was to be found somewhere near Kong-po.[32] The Khanpo went there accordingly, and sat in deep meditation for seven days, when, on the night of the last day, he had a vision and heard a voice which directed him to repair to the Mu-li-ding-ki tso (lake) of Choskhor. Awakening from his sleep, the Khanpo went to the lake, where, on the crystal surface of the water, he saw the image of the incarnate Grand Lama seated in his mother’s lap, and his father fondling him. The house, its furniture, all was shown him. Suddenly the image disappeared, and he set out at once for Kong-po. On the way he stopped in Tag-po at the house of a respectable and wealthy family, and at once he recognized the child and all the images seen in his dream. He promptly informed the Government at Lhasa, and the regent and the cardinals came to Tag-po and took the child, then a year old, and its parents to the Rigyal palace, near Lhasa. This child, now aged ten, is called Nag-wang lo-zang tubdan gya-tso "the Lord of speech, the mighty ocean of wisdom."[33]

The reason why the golden jar was not used for finding this reincarnation was because of the apprehension that the Dayan Khanpo’s spirit—he had but recently died, and had been violently opposed to the Dalai lamas and their form of government—might be able to cause a wrong name to be drawn from the jar.

June 5.—Early this morning I was invited to dine with the Lhacham at Bangye-shag. I was received most graciously, and was led by the Lhacham to her drawing-room, a room about 16 feet by 12, facing the south and on the third story of the building. There were in it two Chinese chests of drawers, on top of which were a lot of porcelain cups; Chinese pictures—picnics and dancing most of them represented—covered the greater part of the walls; the ceiling was of Chinese satin, and thick rugs of Yarkand and Tibetan make covered the floor. Well-polished little tables, wooden bowls for tsamba, and some satin-covered cushions completed the furniture of the room.

After conversing for a while and drinking a few cups of tea, the Lhacham withdrew, and one of her maids showed me the rooms in the mansion. The furniture was much the same as that in the Lhacham’s room, only of inferior quality and ruder make. The walls were painted green and blue, with here and there pictures of processions of gods and demons, and the beams of the ceiling were carved and painted. The doors were very roughly made and without panels; the windows were covered with paper, with a very small pane of glass fitted in the middle of each. There were no chimneys in any of the rooms, but earthenware stoves, or jala. In a few of the rooms flowers were growing in pots.

Returning to the Lhacham’s room, dinner was served me at noon, and while I ate she asked me many questions concerning the marriage laws of India and Europe. When I told her that in India a husband had several wives, and that among the Phyling[34] a man had but one wife, she stared at me with undisguised astonishment. "One wife with one husband!" she exclaimed. "Don’t you think we Tibetan women are better off? The Indian wife has but a portion of her husband’s affections and property, but in Tibet the housewife is the real lady of all the joint earnings and inheritance of all the brothers sprung from the same mother, who are all of the same flesh and blood. The brothers are but one, though their souls are several. In India a man marries well several women who are strangers to each other." "Am I to understand that your ladyship would like to see several sisters marry one husband?" I asked. "That is not the point," replied the Lhacham. "What I contend is that Tibetan women are happier than Indian ones, for they enjoy the privileges conceded in the latter country to the men."[35]

June 7.—My two men had heard from Gadan Tipa, a soothsayer, that they would be stricken with small-pox if they ventured to go to Samye, and they besought me to give up the idea; but I declared emphatically my resolve to visit that famous lamasery, and also that of Gaden.

On June 8 I again visited the Jo khang. The numerous wooden pillars supporting the second story are among the most remarkable things in this temple. The largest of these have capitals with sculptured foliage, and are called ka-wa shing-lho chan.[36] At their base are buried, it is said, great treasures of gold and silver. Other pillars, with dragon-heads as capitals, have hidden under them charms against devils, for curing diseases, and for keeping off and thwarting the evil designs of the enemies of Buddhism and of the government of the church. Other pillars, again, called seng go-chan, "having lions' heads as capitals," have concealed under them many potent charms (yang-yig)[37] to insure bounteous crops.

Under the floor of the Lu-khang are many charms and precious things wrapped in snow-fox or snake-skin. These, it is supposed, preserve the flocks and herds of Tibet. Beneath the image of Dsambhala is hidden in an onyx box some tag-sha,[38] which preserves the precious stones, the wool, the grain, and the other riches of the country.

Among the other objects of special sanctity, I was shown in the passage for circumambulating the temple a cavity in the rock where neither moss nor grass grow; it is said to keep back the waters of the Kyi chu from invading the Jo khang.[39]

June 9.—I went out walking to-day in the direction of Ramoche. On the streets I met numerous bands of ragyabas, or scavengers, wandering from place to place, clamouring for alms from every new-comer or pilgrim they saw. If no attention is paid to them, they thrust their dirty hats in the stranger’s face and lavish insults on him; and if he take offence, they reply, "Why, my lord, this is not insolence; we are but saluting you!"

These ragyabas of Lhasa form a guild. Persons convicted of any crime, or vagabonds, are usually sent back to their native villages, there to work out their sentence; but when the authorities cannot learn whence they come, they are handed over to the chief of the ragyabas, who receives them into his guild. Besides begging, the ragyabas cut up the corpses which are brought to the two cemeteries of Lhasa, near which they live, and feed them to vultures and dogs. A ragyaba may not show his wealth, however great it be; the walls of their houses must be made with horns of sheep, goats, or yaks, the convex sides turned upwards.[40]

At present the chief of the ragyabas is a man of about fifty years, called Abula; he wears a red serge gown and a yellow turban. Cursed is the lot of the ragyabas, and twice cursed is Abula, if a day passes without a corpse being brought to the cemetery; for people believe that if a day passes without a death it portends evil to Lhasa.

In connection with the erection of Ramoche, it is said that the princess who had it built discovered that the spot on which the temple was erected was in communication with hell, and that there was a crystal palace inhabited by the Nagas deep in the earth underneath this place.[41]

Among the most remarkable relics preserved in this temple, and which I had not had time to examine on my first rather hurried visit, I now noticed one of Dolma[42] made of turquoise, and which is said to render oracles, one of Tse-pa-med[43] made of coral, and one of Rin-chen Khadoma[44] in amber, and a number of others of jade, conch-shells and mumen,[45] besides many jars and bowls of jade and gold.

In the afternoon I called on the Lhacham, and was sorry to learn that her second son had small-pox. I told her how disappointed I was at not having been able to get even a glimpse of the Kyabgong, the "lord protector" of Tibet, the Dalai lama. "Alas!" I added, "I have not acquired a sufficient moral merit in former existences to be able to see Shenrezig in flesh and blood!"

"Do not be cast down, Pundib la; though it is not an easy matter for even the Shape and nobles of Tibet to see the Dalai lama, I will arrange an audience for you."[46]

Early the next day a gentleman (ku-dag), who was a Dungkhor of Potala, called on me, and said that the Kusho Lhacham of Phala had arranged with the Donyer chenpo of Potala for an audience for me with the Dalai lama, and that I must get ready as soon as possible.

Swallowing breakfast as quickly as possible, I put on my best clothes, and had hardly finished when the Dungkhor Chola Kusho, accompanied by a servant, arrived. Having provided myself with three bundles of incense-sticks and a roll of khatag, we mounted our ponies and sallied forth. As we crossed the doorway we saw a calf sucking, and several women carrying water. My companions smiled, and Chola Kusho remarked that I was a lucky man, as these were most auspicious signs.[47]

Arriving at the eastern gateway of Potala, we dismounted and walked through a long hall, on either side of which were rows of prayer-wheels, which every passer-by put in motion. Then, ascending three long flights of stone steps, we left our ponies in care of a bystander—for no one may ride further—and proceeded towards the palace under the guidance of a young monk. We had to climb up five ladders before we reached the ground floor of Phodang marpo,[48] or "the Red palace," thus called from the exterior walls being of a dark red colour. Then we had half a dozen more ladders to climb up, and we found ourselves at the top of Potala (there are nine stories to this building), where we saw a number of monks awaiting an audience. The view from here was beautiful beyond compare: the broad valley of the Kyi chu, in the centre of which stands the great city surrounded by green groves; the gilt spires of the Jo-khang and the other temples of Lhasa, and farther away the great monasteries of Sera and Dabung, behind which rose the dark blue mountains.

After a while three lamas appeared, and said that the Dalai lama would presently conduct a memorial service for the benefit of the late Meru Ta lama (great lama of Meru gomba), and that we were allowed to be present at it. Walking very softly, we came to the middle of the reception hall, the roof of which is supported by three rows of pillars, four in each row, and where light is admitted by a skylight. The furniture was that generally seen in lamaseries, but the hangings were of the richest brocades and cloths of gold; the church utensils were of gold, and the frescoing on the walls of exquisite fineness. Behind the throne were beautiful tapestries and satin hangings forming a great gyal-tsan, or canopy. The floor was beautifully smooth and glossy, but the doors and windows, which were painted red, were of the rough description common throughout the country.

A Donyer approached, who took our presentation khatag, but I held back, at the suggestion of Chola Kusho, the present I had for the Grand Lama; and when I approached him I placed in his lap, much to the surprise of all present, a piece of gold weighing a tola. We then took our seats on rugs, of which there were eight rows; ours were in the third, and about ten feet from the Grand Lama’s throne, and a little to his left.

The Grand Lama is a child of eight with a bright and fair complexion and rosy cheeks.[49] His eyes are large and penetrating, the shape of his face remarkably Aryan, though somewhat marred by the obliquity of his eyes. The thinness of his person was probably due to the fatigue of the Court ceremonies and to the religious duties and ascetic observance of his estate. A yellow mitre covered his head, and its pendant lappets hid his ears; a yellow mantle draped his person, and he sat cross-legged with joined palms. The throne on which he sat was supported by carved lions, and covered with silk scarfs. It was about four feet high, six feet long, and four feet broad. The State officers moved about with becoming gravity: there was the Kuchar Khanpo, with a bowl of holy water (tu), coloured yellow with saffron;[50] the Censor-carrier, with a golden censor with three chains; the Solpon chenpo, with a golden teapot; and other household officials. Two gold lamps, made in the shape of flower vases, burnt on either side of the throne.

When all had been blessed and taken seats, the Solpon chenpo poured tea in his Holiness’s golden cup, and four assistants served the people present.[51] Then grace was said, beginning with Om, Ah, Hum, thrice repeated, and followed by, "Never losing sight even for a moment of the Three Holies, making reverence ever to the Three Precious Ones. Let the blessing of the Three Konchog be upon us," etc. Then we silently raised our cups and drank the tea, which was most deliciously perfumed. In this manner we drank three cupfuls, and then put our bowls back in the bosoms of our gowns.

After this the Solpon chenpo put a golden dish full of rice before the Dalai lama, and he touched it, and then it was divided among those present; then grace was again said, and his Holiness, in a low, indistinct tone, chanted a hymn, which was repeated by the assembled lamas in deep, grave tones. When this was over, a venerable man rose from the first row of seats and made a short address, reciting the many acts of mercy the Dalai lamas had vouchsafed Tibet, at the conclusion of which he presented to his Holiness a number of valuable things; then he made three prostrations and withdrew, followed by all of us.

As I was leaving, one of the Donyer chenpo's (or chamberlain) assistants gave me two packets of blessed pills, and another tied a scrap of red silk round my neck—these are the usual return presents the Grand Lama makes to pilgrims.

As we were going out of the hall, we were met by Chola Kusho’s younger brother, a monk in Namgyal Ta-tsan, the monastery of the palace, and in his and his brother’s company I visited the palace, and learnt from them much relating to the history and the traditions of the place.

We first visited a chapel where is an image of Shenrezig with eleven heads and a thousand arms, an eye in the palm of each of his hands. Near it is an image with four arms, also many small gold chorten and objects in bronze. Next I was led to a hall where there is an old throne, opposite which are images of King Srong-btsan, his two consorts, his minister Tonmi Sambhota, General Gar, and Prince Gungri gung-btsan.[52] Leaving this room, we went to the

great hall where Nag-wang lob-zang, the fifth Dalai lama, used to hold his court. Old paintings, supposed to be indestructible by fire, representing King Srong-btsan’s family, Shenrezig, and the first Grand Lama, hung from the pillars, and several images, among which one of sandalwood representing Gon-po,[53] may be seen here.

We were then led to the hall where the Desi Sangye-gyatso used to hold his councils.[54] Here also is the tomb of the first Dalai lama. It is two-storied, and the dome is covered with thin plates of gold. The Dalai’s remains are entombed with many precious things, and the sepulchre is ornamented with various objects of the richest designs and most costly materials brought hither by devotees. This tomb is called the Dsamling gyan,[55] and is the prototype of the tombs we saw around it containing the remains of the other incarnations of the Dalai lama; but these are all smaller than it.

After visiting these halls we descended to the Namgyal Ta-tsan. The architecture of the Phodang marpo embarrassed me greatly, the halls and rooms being piled up story on story. The stonework was beautiful, but it is so poorly drained that in many places the odours are stifling.

Entering a small room, the cell of our guide, we were given seats and served with tea and a collation. Shortly after we started home, having expressed in the warmest terms our thanks to Chola Kusho and his brother for their kindness. We followed the ling-khor, as the road which encircles Lhasa is called. On the way we passed a small grove where is the elephant-shed, the solitary occupant of which—a present from the Rajah of Sikkim—was standing in a barley patch near by. Further on we came to a place where the corpses of the townspeople are fed to pigs, whose flesh, by the way, is said to be delicious. Near here are numerous huts of Ragyabas.

In the evening a drove of donkeys loaded with tsamba and butter arrived from Gyantse, and I was distressed to learn that my friend the minister had small-pox. My men again began pestering me to return to Tsang, alleging as a pretext that I might be of assistance to the minister, and I finally prepared to go to him, especially as the donkey-men said he had expressed a desire to have me near him.

On June 11 I went to see the Lhacham, thanked her for having obtained for me an audience of the Kyab-gong Rinpoche, and spoke to her about my intention of setting out for Dongtse. She advised me to leave at once, as small-pox was raging at Lhasa; her two sons now had it, and from her appearance I feared that she was about to fall ill of the same disease.

Returning to our lodgings, I despatched Tsing-ta to her to ask a loan of 200 tankas. The sum was brought me in the evening by her maid Apela, and the Lhacham also sent me provisions for the journey and feed for the ponies.