XVIII. The Region of the Great Lakes. Nag-Chu Dzong – Saga Dzong
George Roerich — Trails to the Inmost Asia
It was still night when everyone rose and packed his bedding. March 4, 1928, will be remembered by all members of the expedition as the end of their captivity in the inhospitable uplands of Tibet. The dawn was softly coloring the sky and the snow peaks of the Shang-shung Range lay behind a deep blue veil. Columns of smoke were rising above the houses of Nag-chu but the streets were still completely deserted. The yak drivers, or lakto in Tibetan, were taking their tea and tsam-pa , squatting near big fires laid on the pavement outside the gates of the expedition headquarters. The loading of yaks began, and it took us almost three hours to start the heavy caravan. We decided to leave Nag-chu after all the transport with the heavy baggage had gone.
At half-past eight everything was finished and the last section of the yak caravan left and disappeared in a narrow gorge across the river. We started, followed by two do-nyers from the dzong , who were to accompany us to Nam-ru. Our Mongol servants who were returning to Tsaidam bade us farewell and presented ceremonial scarfs. They were very sorry to see us depart and feared trouble from the Joint-Governors. They had heard that the Tibetan servants of Dr. Filchner were thrown into prison and apprehended a similar fate. While in Nag-chu, I had spoken to the local authorities on their behalf and they promised to give our men every assistance on their journey to Tsaidam. The expedition issued to them certificates in Tibetan, requesting the Civil and Military Authorities of Tibet to give them adequate help and protection on Tibetan territory, and a high Tibetan lama, who was traveling to Tsaidam, agreed to take them with his caravan. Some four months later, I was gratified to hear that all of them had safely reached their native pasture lands.
Having crossed the river, which was still frozen hard, we ascended a spur, and the rocky silhouette hid Nag-chu with its monastery from our view. An indistinct path wound along the southern slopes of a low ridge stretching to the west.
From now on, we would face the west for some fifty days. The sun warmed the air and the march was pleasant. We had finally escaped from Nag-chu with its refuse heaps and were now on our way to India. We knew that the road would be difficult and that the country which we had to cross lay above 15,500 feet, and had several high mountain passes. The chang-thang or the uplands of northern Tibet is a country of elevated plains and valleys intersected by mighty snow ranges, the highest of them stretching from west to east. Being obliged to change some of our caravan animals on each stage, we had to halt near nomad encampments, and this sometimes necessitated long circuits. Most of the nomad encampments are in mountain valleys, protected from winter winds and gales.
After a two hours' march along the southern slopes of the ridge which lay almost parallel to the snow range of Shang-shung, we ascended a small pass on the northwest. The progress along the northern slopes of the ridge was difficult, the horses frequently sinking deep into the snow. Descending, we reached a narrow valley which lay west of the pass. The frozen pools of water between hillocks made the march difficult. We followed the valley for another two hours and at two o'clock reached a group of nomad encampments pitched on the grassy slopes of nearby hills. Here we received the unexpected news that our heavy transport on yaks, which followed another route from Nag-chu, along the crest of the ridge, was traveling by the northern route some two miles distant from the place where we were. We hastened northward and after fighting our way through a valley buried under deep snow, we reached a small nomad encampment only to learn that no caravan had been seen.
A strong southwest wind blew soon after we reached the place and we decided to wait and send men to look for the caravan. The wind lifted clouds of thin powder-like dust from the heaps of dung left near the encampment by flocks of sheep and it was impossible to stay there. The Colonel and I accordingly went in search of a cleaner place for the camp. Across the valley we succeeded in finding a dry patch of ground sufficient to accommodate all our tents, and waved to the rest of the party to join us. We remained there for about an hour, squatting on the ground among stones and protecting ourselves as far as possible from the bitter southwest wind. Suddenly a rider appeared, struggling in the deep snow of the valley. He proved to be Ochir, one of our Mongols, who reported that our horses and camels had reached the encampments on the southern route and that the heavy transport on yaks was due to arrive by the same route. We at once started back and recrossed the snow-buried valley. Our dog Kadru, tired by the long march, refused to follow and had to be taken in the saddle.
On reaching the southern route, we saw approaching the first group of yaks, carrying our tents and the rest of the equipment required in the camp. Toward six o'clock camp was pitched and we were able to rest a little after the long, tiresome march. The wind abated and we were able to enjoy a calm, warm evening; the thermometer was at -1°C. The last section of our heavy transport arrived only about eight o'clock in the evening, the animals being exhausted by the snows along the crest of the ridge. We experienced some difficulty in finding good water and fuel, for the local nomads had prepared everything for us some ten miles farther on by the banks of a small river called Tsang-po. Considering the late hour and utter exhaustion of the caravan animals, it was impossible to break camp and proceed farther, and after some talk we got everything we needed for the night. There was no water in the valley and we were obliged to thaw snow. The guide who was sent with us from Nag-chu declared that he knew nothing of the route for the next day and we had to arrange for another guide.
A lama from Amdo, who happened to live among the nomads of this locality, tried his best to arrange everything comfortably for us. I asked him how long it would take us to reach the frontiers of India. He waved his hands and declared that Jagar or India was very far off and that it would take us at least six months of strenuous journey!
