Chapter 12
Before setting out on their journey, they bought a yak form the nomad family, along with homespun wool blankets, tea, tsampa and other provisions, which were loaded on to the yak. This was a docile and tractable beast, a cow actually, much smaller than the bull, but without the bull's refractory nature, and it trailed behind obediently, as this small caravan of three set forth towards the north east. Their first target was to cross he military highway that comes down from the north through Chinese Turkestan, without running into any intrusive Chines army personnel. This is an alternative supply route that the chinese have built across the desert north of the Kun Lun mountains, to maintain their lines in the far west of Tibet. The main supply route is the previously mentioned route through the Tasng Po Valley and through the province of Kham. But this is also the hotbed of Tibetan resistance. The northern highway has been built to provide a second supply line to their military outposts in the unlikely event of the main road being cut off by Tibetan guerrillas. It is a tribute to the Chang Tang's inhospitable terrain that the Chinese have preferred building this highway across the sands of the Taklamakan desert, following the old silk route, rather than the more direct east- wast route across the Chang Tang.
This highway they crossed at mid day, after travelling for over four hours. Their crossing was made at a point a few miles north of the small town of Gartok. From here they headed northwards, hoping to keep away from habitation by keeping well to the north of the town and other villages. After crossing these villages they would turn south again.
The country now took on a wilder aspect. There were drokpa tents, and it was much colder. Their passage se to blocked by a line of low hills, a loess like formation, on which nothing seemed to grow. It was evening when they crossed these hills through a low pass. Reaching the top of the pass, they paused to regain their breath and enjoy the vast panorama that now opened out before them. Far to their left was a lofty snow capped summit, probably an outlying spur of the Kun Lun mountains. To the right were the even loftier pinnacles of the Himalayas and in front of them, shining a golden brown in the rays of the westering sun was the endless expanse of the upland steppe, the Chang Tang in all its wild splendour. Directly ahead was a lake, whose waters were a deep turquoise, reflecting the buff crags in its tam like depths. Around its margins grazed herds of antelope and argali, the Tibetan long-horned sheep, and on the far horizon were a line of hills that were so far that they looked almost blue. They were well and truly within the uncharted wild north of Tibet.
"This is a good place to spend the night," said Lobsang, pointing to some rocks near the lake. There was a line of stunted thorn bushes around the lake and they set about collecting firewood.
"Why do we need so much wood, Lobsang?"
"Wild animals Mai Hoe, wolves, bears, snow leopards, and lynx, we will have to build of ring of fire around us when we sleep, and we are lucky to have all this firewood available."
They soon had a large fire going as the night fell and the stars came out, cold and brilliant. The wind still blew furiously, whistling through the thorn bushes. They felt very lonely then, two souls, within a small circle of flickering light, alone on the benighted, windswept plain.
"Wish we had a tent to sleep in," said Mary Joe.
"Yes, and a couple of dogs to warn us of unwelcome intruders."
"Also a musket to take care of the wild animals that you speak of."
"There are so many things that one could do with. But let us be grateful for what we do we have. At least we have good blankets and plenty of firewood. So we are not going to feel cold at least.
"Yes thank the lord for that. You wouldn't want me to share your bed again, would you, you pious humbug."
In his heart, Lobsang thought there was nothing he would like better, but his reason told him to resist these evil desires. He remembered the Buddha's injunction: If you see a woman look upon her as your mother, imagine her face as full of wrinkles, her body as withered and bent, or better still look upon her as a heap of bones from which the flesh has mouldered away. Such detachment was difficult. Very difficult indeed. Still he must not give way to weakness.
They went to sleep soon, pulling the blankets over their heads, after replenishing the fire. A few hours later Mary Joe found herself awake. She felt a premonition of danger. On looking around she saw them. There were two wolves, their eyes glaring red in the glow of the fire, looking down at them. She shook Lobsang awake. The only weapon that they had was a flat bladed sword of the kind_called che reng in Tibet, which the drokpa family had pressed upon them. Its blade had rusted and long ago lost its edge. However it was this sword that Lobsang picked up and made a cutting slash with it at the wolf who was nearest to the fire. The only effect of this was to send the wolf back a bit, where he stood growling unwilling to be beaten off so easily.
"Let's pick up some burning sticks and have a go at them, Lobsang."
They picked out two large sticks which were burning brightly. With these held aloft like spears they gave the wolves the charge, yelling loudly. The wolves, taken aback by this unexpected turn of events, went scampering away and disappeared into the darkness. Further sleep was out of the question for they felt that the wolves were nearby, watching them from the shelter of the darkness. They took turns at keeping watch, feeding the fire regularly, which hissed and crackled through the night, burning even more brightly as the wind died away towards dawn. As the first faint streaks of grey began to be visible, they heard the wolves howling, an eerie sobbing ululation, which gradually rose in volume. She remembered the coyotes howling in the winters at home on the farm in Vermont. But it was only now she realised what a deadly note of menace the howling of a wolf could contain.
