Chapter 29
AS Lobsang and Mary Joe rode out over the benighted plateau they could hear the sound of choppers somewhere in the distance. The sound however, soon died away and they were once more enveloped in a vast silence, a silence that was not broken by the hoof beats of their horses or the sound of the wind. These sounds, particularly the soughing of the wind that seemed to come from a very long distance away, only served to heighten their solitude. The utter blackness of the night, the absence of any visible geographical features on the desolate waste over which they were travelling and the cold splendour of the night sky deepened their loneliness and sense of insignificance. From time to time, Wangdi stopped the horses to listen for sounds of pursuit. But no such sounds came to them. The Chinese, if they were looking for them, as they must be, were still far away.
As the night wore on and the stars changed their positions, it got colder. The bitter wind seemed to go through her anorak, as Mary Joe shivered and dreamed of warm blankets and hot soup. It was close to dawn, the stars were paling and the grey half light of dawn was beginning to dilute the blackness of the night when they heard the first sounds of life the barking of dogs. They were approaching a Drogpa camp. The black yak-hair tents soon came in sight. The camp was already awake and astir and the headman came forward to meet them as they rode towards the camp. They were received with great curtsey by the old weather-beatenDrogpa who was the leader of the tamp. Their arrival was expected. Cups of hot tea were waiting for them, a samovar was already bubbling away. But first Lobsang had to bless the altar and all the inmates of the camp, the visit of a monk being considered, as usual, a great honour.
After the refreshments Wangdi discussed their situation. "The Chinese could come looking for you, so it is essential that you do not stay in the camp."
"Where are we going to stay then?" asked Mary Joe.
"You will go out with the flock and remain with it till the evening. That way the Chinese will not find you, even when they search the camp."
"What if they come to the pasture, looking for us."
"Then you will find a place to hide, till the danger is past. You will be given some kind of warning. The rest would be up to you."
"How do expect us to hide on this flat plain, you couldn't hide a mouse here, let alone two people." Asked Mary Joe. "Unless you want us to put on sheep's clothing and start cropping the grass."
Her attempts at humour were ignored. "There are caves where you would be taking the flock. One of the shepherds who will be with you will show you how to find them. You can hide there if the Chinese come for you, though I hardly think they will do that." Said Wangdi.
The grazing grounds were about a mile from the camp. There was a small barrow here, where there was a small cave at the base, barely large enough for two people to lie in. It was nothing like the numerous caves they had seen in Tibet, dotting the hill side. There was no hill here, just an undulation in the turf which had been hollowed out as a shelter. But the opening was cleverly concealed behind a juniper bush. They would be secure here unless someone had specific knowledge of the cave. There was a tiny spring by the side of the cave and the seepage from this spring had made the grass grow thickly all around a small hollow which formed the pasture. Here the flock of sheep and yak grazed peacefully while Mary Joe and Lobsang sought the shelter of the cave and dozed off to sleep within a few minutes of getting there.
They were awakened by the sound of dogs barking. The Chinese had arrived. Lobsang peered through the juniper bush and saw a Chinese army truck parked before the camp, which they could see in the middle distance. Wangdi had chosen their hiding place well, they had a clear view of the camp, while their pursuers could not see them until they gave themselves up. Some one seemed to be pointing in their direction. They were probably showing the Chinese where the flocks were grazing. It suddenly struck Mary Joe that their horses were also grazing with the flock and if the Chinese saw them they could grow suspicious. It was too late to do anything about it now. They saw two soldiers detach themselves from the search party and come in their direction.
The soldiers stopped some way short of the flock. They spoke briefly to the shepherd. boy who was tending the animals. Then they turned. back, satisfied. They hadn't noticed the horses grazing with the herd, or if they had, they hadn't connected them with their escape. All to the good. The soldiers rejoined their comrades and the truck drove off towards the east. Mary Joe and Lobsang breathed freely again.
It was dark when Wangdi came to their hide and woke them up. They walked back to the camp with the flock and had a meal of T sampa and soup that was garnished with juliennes of yak meat, tough but tasty and the first meat that they had eaten in days. "Eat up my friends, for you have a long journey ahead of you."
"Where are we going Wangdi." Asked Mary Joe.
"Where few dare to go. Thamba Dzong."
"Thamba Dzong!" There was a look of horror on the faces of the nomad family when they heard the name. The old man closed his eyes and intoned a mantra. The old woman, his wife, furiously turned her prayer wheel. "I suppose I should cross myself, or do whatever is the Buddist equivalent," said Mary Joe. "What is this place Lobsang, and why are all these people so frightened?"
"Its an evil place, Dolma, a castle where the wicked king Lang Derma locked up six Buddhist monks and had them killed. It is said to be haunted by evil spirits and no Tibetan will go within a mile of it."
"And this famous castle is now going to be our hideout. That's smart thinking. I am quite looking forward to a reception committee of Tibetan spooks."
"Its no laughing matter Dolma, though I am glad to see you taking the whole thing in this spirit. It is not a pleasant place."
They set off on their journey as soon as it was dark. Their horses, refreshed after the halt made good time. It became obvious after a while that they were now travelling over a gently rising plateau. It was a rolling, undulating country, often found at the foot of great mountains. After travelling for about four hours they arrived at the base of these mountains. Their horses could take them no further, so they were unsaddled by Wangdi and set free to wander over the plateau. He would find them again when he needed them. They now had to climb the mountain which rose over them, a dark brooding mass. The night was dark, but not pitch dark. The starlight illumined faintly the towering rock face which rose over them. Mary Joe looked up at the endless wall of rock and shook her head, "Jesus, how in the name of God are we ever going to get over this."
But Wangdi knew of goat track which went up the rock face. It was a narrow ledge, going across the cliffs at a steep angle. Up this path they started to climb, praying that no one will miss his step or make a false move. There was no room for any mistakes on the narrow ledge. Nor did they have ropes and pitons or any other climbing equipment. If any one fell over the ledge, there was nothing to stop him falling to his death over the precipice. But no one fell. Lobsang did stumble once and almost lost his footing, but he righted himself, hanging on to the ledge with both hands and pulling himself over. The path finally took them over the crest of a ridge which stretched away to the summit which was out of sight.
"We will go half way up the ridge,. then start descending. Just take it easy on the ridge and save your energy for the descent, for that's the toughest part."
The ridge had a knife edge and was composed of crumbling shale. But it wasn't difficult going if you watched your step and went slowly. The only problem was the wind which blew like a gale, making it hard for them to retain their footing on the razor-edged crest of the ridge. It was like walking on a tightrope with someone pulling at your clothes all the time. Not an easy thing to do. A rope would have helped greatly here, thought Mary Joe, but they had no rope. After trudging up the crumbling slope for a few hours, Wangdi gave the signal for a halt. They sheltered in the lee of a rocky chimney and chewed on the strips of salted yak meat that they carried with them. Then they started on their descent.
Before them was a sheer rock face, almost vertical. Mary Joe couldn't see how they were going to go down the precipice. Wangdi brought them to a place where the slope was a little short of vertical. It was still a tremendous rock face, without any hand or foot hold, but the gradient was only about seventy degrees. Not quite vertical, but sufficient to break all the bones in your body if you fell over it. Wangdi pointed at the slope, "this is where we will go down."
"You're crazy. What do you think it is, a kindergarten slide. If you want us to go down this slope you better lead the way."
And Wangdi did lead the way, treating the slope just like a giant slide. He slid down the rock, gaining speed all the time, but he kept his upright posture as he disappeared in the darkness at the base of the slope. The rock was so smooth that it was possible to slide down it, if one was not intimidated by the height of the slope. Lobsang and Mary Joe followed. Lobsanglost his balance about half way down the slope and his body rolled down the rest of the way, turning over and over. The slope finally levelled out and ended, providentially in a sandy bed w-hich cushioned their fall as they arrived at the bottom in a flurry of dust and sand. Lobsang wasn't seriously hurt, nor was Mary Joe. They were just winded by the descent. "You all right Lobsang. No bones broken?"
"I am all right, Dolma, and you?"
"I am okay, only a little dusty," she answered brushing the dust and sand off her clothes and feeling her spine to see if it was still in one piece.
Wangdi was sitting cross-legged on the sand in a meditative pose, watching them with the tolerant contempt of a master witnessing the performance of a couple of rather inept pupils. He gave them no time to rest after the ordeal of their descent. "Let's go, we have no time to lose, it will soon be dawn and we still have some distance to cover."
"Quite the slave driver aren't you Wangdi, you would have been at home on a cotton plantation in the south, in the bad old days."
"What is she saying Lobsang?"
"She is only admiring you, Wangdi."
The mountains had ended as abruptly as they had started and they found themselves travelling over land that sloped gently down. As the grey light of dawn was beginning to make objects visible they breasted a sudden rise on the ground and found themselves looking at a wonderful panorama. Before them was a huge lake, surrounded by mountains on the far side, whose calm waters looked almost black in the uncertain light. Directly ahead of them, standing on a crag on the margin of the lake were the soaring ramparts of a castle that seemed to rise suddenly from the tarn like waters.
"Thamba Dzong, the castle of Lang Derma, that will be your home for the next week." Said Wangdi. But the words were quite superfluous, they all knew they were looking at the ill-fated castle the moment they set their eyes on it. The silhouette of the castle against the luminous sky of dawn had a forbidding aspect that spoke of more than just dereliction. The gaunt tower-like structure that rose over the battlements had large holes which must once have been windows, and patches of the brightening sky could be seen through them. The pathway to the castle went over a narrow strip of land which connected it to the eastern shore of the lake. A flight of steps went up the cliff from the path, leading to the entrance to the castle. The arched gateway had long since crumbled away and the huge doors were gone, but the massive bastions that still stood gave some idea of the ruined splendour of the gate, which stood like a gaping breach in the wall. Within the castle it was a scene of desolation. The main building was a complete ruin, a mass of rubble and fallen masonry, but the walls still stood and one square tower was still in a stage of good repair. It was to this tower that they went, climbing a winding staircase that led to the top. At the top was a room that was in surprisingly good condition considering the general dilapidation of the building. Wooden crates were stacked in one corner and there were also a few large urns such as are used for churning butter by nomad families.
"You will find enough food in the crates to last you for two weeks. Dried and seasoned meat, dry fruits, figs and raisins and walnuts, cheese and butter and tsampa. But no cooking is permitted I am afraid. Cooking gives off smoke which can be seen from miles away in the daylight. At night the glow of a fire is equally prominent. So you will have to subsist on dry food. The urns have enough drinking water for two weeks. You can use the lake water if you have to, but you will find the taste unpleasant, it has too much salt to be really fit for drinking. But you can filter the water in an emergency and drink it. On the whole, if you confine yourselves to the castle you should not be too uncomfortable. Unless the Chinese decide to look in, but I don't think they will do that. No one ever comes to the castle and I doubt if anyone will ever think of looking for you here."
"What happens after two weeks. You don't expect us to live in this spooky joint for ever, do you. Why we will turn into ghosts ourselves if we carry on living in this old caboose." Said Mary Joe.
Lobsang translated the question to Wangdi, who nodded his several times. "I agree you can't stay here forever, but for the time being there is no safer place. You must stay on till we arrange something."
"How do we keep in touch?"
"That won't be easy, look at those lights on the hill," said Wangdi, pointing out a chain of lights strung across the mountains on the far side. "Those are Chinese army encampments. They are meant to keep watch on the Tsangpo valley on the far side, but it will be difficult to dodge them. And once their suspicions are aroused they will waste no time in coming down here in force. The only safe way is the one that we have just used. Not many people know about this way. I'll try to see you after a week, until then you should be able to manage on your own. But remember no fire, no cooking and no moving about during daylight, at least not outside of the castle walls."
After Wangdi had left they went around the castle on a tour of inspection. The castle was built on the flat top of a crag with sheer sides. The ramparts enclosed the crag, which wasn't very wide at the top. The general impression thus was of a narrow space enclosed by high walls. Piles of rubble and crumbling masonry lay all about the courtyard, which was overgrown with thorny nettles and burdocks. Exactly in the centre of the courtyard was a short, squat, structure built of massive blocks of dark granite. From the look of it, it was probably a shrine or temple of some kind, but it was unlike any shrine they had seen in Tibet. The walls of this temple were adorned with curious statues, standing within niches and alcoves. These figures, half animal and half human had a peculiarly malevolent expression on their faces. Time had effaced the finely carved features and many of the statues seemed to have been deliberately disfigured and vandalised, but the large staring eyes and snarling faces still radiated a strangely sinister aura, as though they were instinct with some mysterious power. Within the shrine was a large statue of the same half human and half animal deity, broken up into three fragments but with its face and torso still intact. The curiously impressive figure still had the same sneering smile stamped on its face, and the eyes seemed to stare at you with the same malign intensity.
Mary Joe shivered inwardly even as she admired the skill of the artist who had breathed such life into the lifeless stone. "What is this place Lobsang?"
"Its an evil place, the temple of Lang Derma, where he worshipped the devils of the night. Let's get out of here."
They walked out of the temple and into bright sunshine with a degree of relief. Not far from the temple were the stone columns of the audience chamber, now without any roof or wall. At a short distance from these columns they came across a trapdoor, a large stone slab with two massive rings, now rusted almost orange but still in one piece. The stone slab was inscribed with curious hieroglyphs and motifs showing the same animal deities. It sat squarely within a frame made out of the same stone. It seemed unlikely that any man, however strong could raise that massive stone trapdoor, it must have required a whole army to move it. "Look at this Lobsang, a trapdoor, "said Mary Joe, "I wonder where it goes. Does it lead to dungeons where hidden treasure is buried. Let's go down and see."
"What! go down there, you are crazy. You will find nothing there, may be a few old bones, if at all. That is where it is said, Lang Derma used to kill his victims. Nothing will make me go down those steps, even if one could move the door. They say, two horses use to pull those rings, only then could they move the stone."
"Okay,. Okay, I am not eager to meet your spooks, any more than you are. Let's walk about the castle walls."
The walls were approached a flight of steps which led up to a broad pathway that went around the ramparts. From this walkway they could see the surrounding country, and if they took care to keep behind the battlements, it was unlikely that anyone would see them. North' of the castle was the mountain wall that they had just traversed. Looking at the sheer limestone escarpment, they wondered how they had managed to cross over themselves. Right in front was Lake Basum Tso, whose still waters now looked turquoise in the sunshine. Beyond the waters of the lake to the north was another mountain chain. They could see the tiny dots that marked the Chinese encampments on the brow of the mountain. All these camps seemed very far away, but they realized that they would have to keep out of sight of these camps. It was just possible, though unlikely that someone using binoculars could see them from the camps. To the West across the water was another mountain that looked equally sheer and impassable, but to their right, on the east, the waters of the lake as they flowed eastwards had carved out a deep canyon between the mountain walls. It was possible to approach the castle through this canyon, although in places the canyon was so narrow and the sides so steep that it seemed impossible that anyone could climb up it. The canyon had been formed aeons ago when the waters of the lake flowed out through it down to the Tsangpo river, fifteen miles away to the south east. The underground springs feeding the lake had dried up over time, leaving the water level greatly reduced. The lake now no longer flowed out through the eastern channel, which had turned into a dry and deep ravine. Many lakes in Tibet and Ladakh have either turned brackish or shrunk in size due to this phenomenon.
In the entire landscape, there was no sign of any habitation, or any visible presence of man or beast. "What a place," said Mary Joe, "pretty as a picture and lonesome as a prairie field in winter. Wonder what it is like. during the night."
She was soon to know. As it became dark and the sun went down behind the mountains, the wind picked up. Soon a furious gale was whistling through the windows of the tower, chilling them to the bone. There was no defence against that wind, they covered themselves in blankets but it was no use. The wind got through everything, reaching out its numbing, chilling fingers everywhere. What made matters worse was the sound of the wind, a harsh mournful threnody, that seemed to play tricks with their hearing, bringing to them, at times the sound of hoof beats, of horses whinnying and human voices. "Did you hear that Lobsang, the sound of horses and people talking?"
"Its nothing Dolma, only a trick of the wind."
"It sounds so spooky. Lobsang?"
"Yes."
"Do you believe in ghosts."
"Yes."
"Have you ever seen a ghost."
"Ghosts are emanations of the human mind."
"That means they are not real."
"No, that means they are as real as the world of everyday existence, which is also an emanation of the mind. That is what we Buddhists believe. So keep your mind centred on the Buddha and you will be saved from evil."
The wind died away around three in the morning, as suddenly as it had risen and they could finally get some sleep under their blankets. They spent the morning in making up makeshifts boards out of some flour sacking which they could use to close up the windows during the night. Then they went around the castle again, for there was nowhere else to go. The wind that had blown with such fury during the night had now dwindled to a gentle breeze. The sun was warm and pleasant, the air clean and sharp as the water of a mountain torrent. The deep blue waters of the lake lapped gently at the base of the crags and they could hear the gentle sound of the waves on the shingle and rock. The storm and fury of the night seemed only a distant memory. The castle itself seemed not so forbidding as it had done in the night, the sun shining on the dark walls and the rough tussocks of brown grass.
"How beautiful it seems today, Lobsang, how different from the grim, spooky place that it seemed only yesterday."
"Yes, the sun can affect the complexion of our mind, that is why things that look so sinister in the dark, appear quite harmless in the morning. It is all a play of the mind. Things don't change in themselves, it is we who change."
"Oh come now, to hear you talk one would think that all these rocks and stones are nothing but phantoms of the mind."
"And so they are, though in a different way from what you think."
"In what way, tell me," Mary Joe was not be put off.
"Well the essence of everything is the same as the essence of your mind, at the heart of everything is emptiness."
"That's either something very profound or complete nonsense. Please explain yourself."
"I can't because it is hard to conceptualise something that is beyond everyday experience. All I can say is that this emptiness is not really empty. It is cognizant and aware and self conscious. And it is eternal and indestructible. But enough, religion is not a matter of discussion or talk. It is something that has to be lived and experienced."
"Yeah, talking about it won't get us there, I can see that. I can also see what you mean, though only dimly. It will take me a while to get out my skin, out of my comfortable solid and secure common sense world and get into your inside-out reality."
They passed the rest of the day in sunning themselves. Lobsang spent a long time in reading from some religious texts that he had taken from Wangdi. He sat rapt in meditation for long hours. The rest of the day they discussed the perennial problems of life that religion tries to resolve.
Four days had passed thus when they saw someone coming down the mountains to the north. They concealed themselves behind the battlements to watch over the slowly descending figure. As the stranger drew nearer it became clear that it was Wangdi. It could be no one else, for no one else knew about them or the route over the northern mountains. Wangdi was careful to follow a route which kept him directly behind the castle and therefore secure from observation by any one watching from the far side. They came out from behind the battlements when they were sure that it was Wangdi and waved to him. They had not expected him back so soon.
Wangdi had brought disturbing news. "They say a Chinese general has come down from Beijing to take charge of the search operation. Right now about ten thousand soldiers are searching for you. The general, they say is a very clever man. Sooner or later his soldiers will get here. In any case we have to get you out of here and into India before your food runs out. How many day's rations do you have left?''
"A week, eight to ten days at the most." Said Lobsang.
"That makes it worse. We can't bring any more food. We'll have to come from the south across the mountains, and the Chinese will see us for sure. No other route is possible. I don't know what we should do. Perhaps we can move out during the night and shift you to another safe location. The only problem is there are no safe locations left."
"How come. Surely you have a network of safe houses scattered all over Tibet. At least that was what I had been told during briefings, back in Langley. "Said Mary Joe.
"You are right, but the Chinese have started a crackdown on our organization. Our members are on the run everywhere. I have neither the men nor the resources to smuggle you across the border evading the Chinese dragnet. The same problem arises when we consider other safe houses. This is a time for outside help, we can do nothing without help from the Indians."
''So why don't you get in touch with them."
"It isn't so simple as that. We can't use the wireless because all radio traffic is being intensively monitored. If we try to transmit anything, even in code, it will be picked up by the Chinese and that would give away our hideout. The borders have been sealed so we can't even send couriers across as we normally do. I don't know how I can get in touch with the Indians.''
They digested this in gloomy silence. It was Lobsang who finally spoke, "why can't we get in touch with the Indian embassy in Beijing."
"By the holy Buddha, that's an idea. Let us get in touch with them at once."
"Who should be contacted on the Indian side. Anyone that you can suggest." Asked Wangdi.
''Of course, Colonel P.P. Singh, if any one can get us out, he can. But you have to get through to him first." Said Mary Joe.
"Colonel P.P. Singh, right, he shall be told about your predicament right away. Then it would be up to him to justify your faith in his abilities."
"Lets hope the Indians can think of some way of getting us out of here, before the Chinese are on to us." Said Lobsang. "We haven't much time."
"No we haven't much time," agreed Wangdi. "Tha is why I must be off immediately!' So saying he walked off again into the gathering gloom. He had to find his way back in the dark; there was no time to wait for the morning.
