RETURN OF THE DESERTERS—SHUKR ALI—LONG MARCHES—DEATH OF EIGHT MULES AND A PONY—A CHEERING REPAST.
On leaving Camp 74 on August 3rd, we had to cross an arm of the lake, or rather to make our way round it, for the rain had made the sand too soft to admit of our venturing on it. After marching for some considerable time, we therefore found ourselves just opposite our camp of the previous night, separated only by a narrow strip of treacherous ground. When we had gone thus far we noticed something or other moving on the crest of the high ground above our old camp, and on closer examination, by means of our field glasses, discovered that these moving objects were no other than the reappearance of the deserters. Soon afterwards another one came into sight, and then another. It struck us as highly probable that there had been some disagreement in the party, and that they were already beginning to taste the fruits of their crime.
We pretended to take no notice of them whatever, but rather increased the rate of our marching, keeping the animals close and compact, so that they might see for themselves how easy it was for us to manage without them. We could see them steering for our last night\'s encampment, where they no doubt stopped to regale themselves over a meal with the flour they had taken away, and to inspect and take whatever they fancied of the things we had left behind. 153
In order to save ourselves the trouble of searching for roots for our fire and vegetables on arrival at camp, we used each of us to pick up whatever we could during the march, putting the droppings of wild animals and roots into one bag, and the vegetables into another, which were hung on the back of one of the spare mules.
During our march of sixteen miles we saw nothing more of the deserters. We came to the conclusion that they must either have spent a considerable time over cooking their flour, and would catch us up again afterwards, or else we thought it just possible that having seen us marching along apparently without any difficulty, and having found their big cooking pot at the camp, they had concluded that it would be a hopeless task to pursue us any further, and had decided to steer a course of their own for Lhassa.
After passing over undulating grassy country, we halted on the south side of a salt-water lake, Camp 75, hidden in a secluded nook amidst the hills which rose from the water\'s edge. On the north side, some four or five miles off, ran a range of hills topped with snow peaks.
We found, by choosing a spot like this, that the muleteers could not have discovered our whereabouts from any high ground they would cross, and that to do so they would have to come right up to us. Our march had taken us over seven hours, so that as soon as camp had been pitched and water brought, it was time to collect and picket the mules for the night between our two tents, and begin our night watches.
During these lonely night watches, the absolute silence that reigned in this uninhabited country can never be described. The slightest movement of man or beast was so easily heard that it would have been impossible for a stranger to approach unnoticed. One\'s thoughts on these solitary occasions would wander far, far back, to others who slept peacefully amidst a scene of luxury and comfort. In 154 order to keep ourselves awake and warm, we used to keep a pot of water in the red-hot ashes of our fire, and brew ourselves a cup of cocoa. I remember every step I took, or anything I laid hold of, seemed to make such a noise, that every moment I expected every one to awake, forgetting that sleep was sounder then than at other times.
The night passed off quietly, and at 4 o\'clock we were all five of us busily engaged packing and loading up for another long march. So intent were we upon our work that at first we failed to notice that the deserters had actually reappeared, and were standing in doleful plight some little way off, without venturing to come up to us. Thereupon Malcolm and I approached them, chiefly with the object of searching the bundles they were carrying, to see whether they had any flour left, or anything else that would be useful to us. Strange to say, one of them, and the greediest, Mahomed Rahim, had brought on his shoulder the huge cooking pot in which the tea and soup used to be cooked for all the men. It was evident that he, at any rate, had hopes of our taking them into our service again, in which case he must have thought of the praise he would get from the other men for having thus exerted himself.
It was far from our intentions to take them on again as our servants, and how could we have been expected to? Had we felt that they would have served us faithfully, we should have unhesitatingly forgotten and forgiven their folly, but we instinctively felt that the only chance we had of accomplishing our journey without mishap was to throw off for good and for all these most ungrateful, unreliable men, who were bringing their own destruction upon themselves.
We made a single exception, in taking again into our service one man, by name Shukr Ali. We had a liking for him, and knew he was blessed with a family. He came under the condition that if he worked well and honestly, he 155 would be entirely forgiven his misconduct, and would receive his entire wages, like the two men who had remained faithful. From what Shukr Ali told our two men, it was quite certain that our decision with regard to the remainder was not ill-judged.
After the delay we moved off steadily again, and for the first time found wild rhubarb growing. Besides this, we had found a moth and a beetle. All this encouraged us in the belief that we must be drawing nearer to more genial climes, and possibly, too, to some habitations of men.
Whilst making these long marches of sixteen or eighteen miles a day, which would take us eight or nine hours, we used to call a halt about half-time for a few minutes, when we found a place where extra good grass was growing, that whilst the mules grazed, all might recoup themselves with a little rest, and satisfy in some slight degree the hunger from which we always suffered, by eating some cold meat and any vegetables we could find.
One afternoon, after pitching camp, I had gone to the top of some adjacent hills to collect onions, for they generally grew on the higher ground. Whilst so employed, I chanced, as one was wont to do, to look round the surrounding country, and saw in the distance some men coming along in the same direction that we ourselves had come. Of course, I knew it must be another reappearance of the deserters. Not wishing to speak to them any more, nor that they should speak to our two men for fear they might contaminate them, I shouted to Shahzad Mir to take his gun and meet them, and forbid them to follow us any further. Until we felt certain that they had ceased to track us, the watching over our mules was a constant anxiety for all.
As a matter of fact, the occasion when Shahzad Mir turned these men back was the last on which we saw them. The nights we spent afterwards watching over our little 156 camp, in half expectation of their sudden reappearance, were, as it turned out to be, only a waste of rest and energy, for we never saw these men again, and whether they found their way to Lhassa is a doubtful question. Whatever fate befel these wretched men, it was brought on by their own deeds, and against our most earnest endeavours to do all in our power for them. Whatever was in store for them they most assuredly deserved. They had tried and hoped to leave us to fate in the midst of solitude, and had curiously enough served themselves out with this very same punishment.
After this event all went smoothly and cheerily; all worked equally and with a will as one man. The mules, too, grew stronger on the excellent grass we had come to, and wild onions and rhubarb were abundant everywhere. Afterwards grass became scarce again, and one day we had to march twenty miles before a spot suitable to camp in could be found. Here lay a small lake, which, to our disappointment, was of brackish water, resulting in our having to resort to our original plan of digging. The night by this lake, Camp 78, was warm, the temperature not falling below forty degrees Fahr. Ahead of us the land appeared to be studded with lakes, and we decided to steer along the north side of them.
As rain had fallen during the early morning the tents were heavy, but the level marching in some degree compensated for this misfortune. That which we had surmised to be a number of lakes proved to be one salt one, which alone relieved the barren country we had quite unexpectedly marched into. The prospect, too, of shooting any game was disheartening, nor did there seem any chance of the mules getting any more grass. Yet once again, when our fortune was at a very low ebb, providential and unaccountable help was at hand, for suddenly there appeared in this desert country a solitary antelope. Our only reason 157 for his being there was that he had lost his way. He was astonishingly tame, and easily shot. Even more wonderful still was our finding, in the middle of this expanse of sand, salt and gravel, a kind of oasis, consisting of about an acre of rising ground, covered with beautiful grass, and when we began to dig we found good water just below the surface. Instead of reading about some fairy tale, we were really acting one.
Soon after pitching our camp in this garden of plenty rain fell heavily. We thought of the deserters, and wondered what shelter or food they had providentially found. During the night the rain ceased, and a hard frost set in. When we began to load up, we found our tent was just like a sheet of thin iron, and the only way of folding it up was to bend the ends over and then stand on them.
We crossed some hills, and then descended into a valley of sandy soil. There was also rich grass, and several small streams flowed across the valley, taking their rise from th............