A number of
men worked for two days at scaffolding a path, and with great
difficulty, and the loss of one yak from a falling rock, a fruitful
source of fatalities in Tibet, we reached Khalsar, where with great
regret we parted with Tse-ring-don-drub (Life's purpose fulfilled),
the gopa of Sati, whose friendship had been a real pleasure, and to
whose courage and promptitude, in Mr. Redslob's opinion, I owed my
rescue from drowning. Two days of very severe marching and long and
steep ascents brought us to the wretched hamlet of Kharzong Lar-sa,
in a snowstorm, at an altitude higher than the summit of Mont Blanc.
The servants were all ill of 'pass-poison,' and crept into a cave
along with a number of big Tibetan mastiffs, where they enjoyed the
comfort of semi-suffocation till the next morning, Mr. R. and I, with
some willing Tibetan helpers, pitching our own tents. The wind was
strong and keen, and with the mercury down at 15 degrees Fahrenheit
it was impossible to do anything but to go to bed in the early
afternoon, and stay there till the next day. Mr. Redslob took a
severe chill, which produced an alarming attack of pleurisy, from the
effects of which he never fully recovered.
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