Chapter 32
GENERAL Hu Feng continued to look at the map spread out before him. He wanted to pinpoint some other locations where the fugitives might be hiding. "Have you thought over all the possibilities Colonel? Do you think they could have doubled back by some other routes and might now actually be in Lhasa?"
"That's impossible General. All the entry points into the town are sealed. There is no way they can get even close to the town without running into the dragnet."
"All right, I suppose I can take your word for that. Besides it would be against the psychology of the prisoners to return to the place they have escaped from. What do you think a prisoner in similar circumstances would do?"
"He would take the shortest route that led him to safety."
"And where does safety lie in a situation like this?"
"For these prisoners, safety can only be found across the Indian border. But then again crossing the border at this point of time is impossible. I have already given you the details of the surveillance operation."
"Of course, of course. I know that they can't sneak across the border as they did last time. But that is not the point. The point is, a prisoner in a similar situation would still try to move in the general direction of the border, because to him it represents safety. Now tell me which way is the closest Indian border."
"I would say, roughly south east, sir, though the old caravan trail which is now a major road, goes due south through Shigatse and Gyantse to the Indian border."
"But you don't expect them to travel over the busiest road in Tibet, do you? No you can forget about the road. Our prisoners would be trying to move in a south easterly direction towards the Indian border, using unknown trails and rough terrain to avoid detection."
Just then a young army officer burst excitedly into the room. "They have found them sir. A monk and a young woman, travelling together. The woman, it appears speaks English."
"Where was this lieutenant?"
"Near Gyantse. The prisoners were snooping around the old fort when they ran into a picket. They are on their way to Lhasa right now."
The General looked at the Colonel and raised his eyebrows. "What do you say Colonel, I will wager you fifty yuan, these prisoners are innocent. Remember what I said about the Shigatse-Gyantse road. Supposing for the sake of argument, that they were indeed using this road. How do you think they could get so far down the road, evading all the road blocks and check points. And after getting though all these barriers, they just blunder into a picket and get themselves caught. It doesn't make sense. I would say again, we are either dealing with decoys or innocent people. Personally I am not going to waste any time with these prisoners. You can assign some junior officer to talk to them. In the meantime, lets go on with our discussion."
"Yes, General."
"What are you doing about the villages in the area."
"We have stationed-men in all the villages. These are very small communities, where the arrival of a stranger would in any case attract wide notice. No one can arrive in any of the villages in the area without running into my men."
"And the same holds good, I suppose for the handful of small towns in the vicinity."
"Yes sir, check points and mobile patrolling all over these towns. No one could get into them without our say so."
"Good, this means our prisoners have to hide in ruined buildings, abandoned monasteries, isolated caves, things like that. Now let us look at the map and see if we can find some other ruined forts."
They identified two other likely sites. The deserted monastery of Wanlung, desecrated and abandoned during the Cultural Revolution and the Maravak caves in the mountains to the north of Thamba Dzong. It was decided that Colonel Chu would check out the monastery, while another officer would search the caves. The General thought he would take a look at Thamba Dzong himself. But that would have to wait for a couple of days, as he would have to take the salute at the parade that was to be organized on the Chinese Independence Day. This was a ceremonial duty that could not be shirked, much though the General disliked official rituals.
The Gompa of Wanglung stands about two hundred miles due east of the city of Lhasa. It is situated at the head of a deep valley formed by two northwards extending spurs of the Nyenchenthagla. The Brahmaputra flows along the southern side of the mountain massif and the valley of the Tsangpo is a pleasant, well wooded place at this spot, but the monastery is located on the bleak northern side of the mountain. The spot is isolated and inaccessible. The monastery is a place of retreat which even in its heyday was inhabited only by the hardiest of monks, who wished to cut themselves off from the world to pursue the call of their spirit. It is a true hermitage, a solitary place among the mountains.
The path that led up to the monastery was little more than a pack trail even when it was maintained by the monks who lived there. After the monastery was sacked by the Red Guards in the sixties, this path has dwindled to a little more than a goat track. The Colonel and his party of soldiers, did not find the going easy as they straggled up the winding ribbon of the track, in places completely blocked off by landslides. They had requisitioned the services of a Tibetan nomad to act as a guide, but the superstitious old shepherd wasn't much help. Like most Tibetans, for him the solitude of the mountains was populated by ghosts and goblins and desecrated monasteries he thought were abodes of the most malefic of all the devils that heaven or earth could boast of. Still there was no way he could refuse the dictates of his Chinese masters.
So the Colonel and his fellow soldiers walked-up the track, led by the shepherd. The intense sun blazed out of a cobalt blue sky, making them sweat and pant with exertion and heat. The path kept going up at a gradient that wasn't steep but was yet acute enough to put a strain upon them, given the lack of oxygen in the rarefied air. As the gorge narrowed, the Colonel realized that they were nearing the monastery and he asked his soldiers to proceed cautiously. They slowed down, moving forward in a single file, each soldier pressing close to the mountain side and using every bit of available cover to avoid being seen. The Colonel felt a little foolish taking all these precautions. He knew it was unlikely that they would find anyone at the monastery. It was more than likely that the General had sent him on a wild goose chase. Still there was the off chance that the fugitives could be in the monastery and in that case precautions were in order, for, as he well knew, the prisoners could be dangerous.
After walking up the track for what seemed like a long while, the old shepherd pointed with his staff towards the head of the valley which at this point had narrowed to a gorge. Far away, framed between piles of large boulders which had rolled down the mountain was the monastery. The old shepherd would go no further. The Colonel took out his binoculars and went over the facade of the ruined building inch by inch, looking for movement or some sign of life, but he saw nothing. The sightless windows of the building stared back at him stonily. A passing blast of wind raised a pall of dust which settled again after rising up like smoke eddying up from a cauldron. The Colonel was more sure than ever that they would find no one in the building.
After having made sure that there was no one in the building they moved away again, less cautious now, but still moving carefully. The monastery was approached by a flight of steps going up the side of the mountain and they went up these, one at a time, their Kalashnikov rifles at the ready. The building was protected by a tall stone wall with a gateway in the middle, inscribed with the usual emblems of the Buddhist faith. But the arch had fallen down and lay in three pieces on the steps. In the forecourt the first structure was the Gon-khang, the small temple that is dedicated to the Dharmpalas or the guardian deities. Miraculously the murals showing the terrible deities had survived, the black fierce lord of time devouring his enemies, the lord of death with his multitude of arms and legs each one a grotesque mask and Shugden riding a dragon, all were visible on the walls. It seemed the ravages of time had not been able to touch these guardian deities, whose contorted faces gazed back at the intruders with a peculiar malevolence. But the main temple was in ruin, and the cloisters around the courtyard were empty cells. Dust lay in thick drifts on the cobbled floor. It was obviously that no one had lived in the monastery for quite a long while. Yet there was a sense of someone or something being present in the building. There were stealthy scratching sounds and faint rustlings that came to them from the darkened recesses of the ruined cloisters, as though someone was trying to move quietly from room to room to avoid being seen. And the sense of being watched by unseen eyes persisted.
The Colonel divided his forces into four parties and asked them to search the monastery room by room. But as the first party entered the gloomy interior of the Du-Khang a most extraordinary gibbering and chattering came to them. It was as if someone was shouting imprecations at them in a high pitched quivering voice. Then abruptly two langurs scampered out of the portals and went bounding away, out over the hill side. Everyone was surprised then relieved as the tension ebbed away. Many soldiers burst out laughing. Further search would have been useless, so the operation was called off and the Colonel returned to Lhasa to report to the General, mentally blaming him for sending him on this abortive expedition. Privately he thought the fugitives were most likely to make a run for the border any time, and it would be better to wait for them to give themselves away, rather than keep looking for them in the wilderness of Tibet.
