Just outside the Commissioner's grounds are two very humble
whitewashed dwellings, with small gardens brilliant with European
flowers; and in these the two Moravian missionaries, the only
permanent European residents in Leh, were living, Mr. Redslob and Dr.
Karl Marx, with their wives. Dr. Marx was at his gate to welcome me.
To these two men, especially the former, I owe a debt of gratitude
which in no shape, not even by the hearty acknowledgment of it, can
ever be repaid, for they died within a few days of each other, of an
epidemic, last year, Dr. Marx and a new-born son being buried in one
grave. For twenty-five years Mr. Redslob, a man of noble physique
and intellect, a scholar and linguist, an expert botanist and an
admirable artist, devoted himself to the welfare of the Tibetans, and
though his great aim was to Christianize them, he gained their
confidence so thoroughly by his virtues, kindness, profound Tibetan
scholarship, and manliness, that he was loved and welcomed
everywhere, and is now mourned for as the best and truest friend the
people ever had.
I had scarcely finished breakfast when he called; a man of great
height and strong voice, with a cheery manner, a face beaming with
kindness, and speaking excellent English.
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