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Should we make a rapid march during the night over the mountain range to our right, and strike east by the wilds, or should we face the Gyanema leader and his soldiers? We decided to meet them rather than go out of our way. I gave orders to break camp at once. We altered our course from north to north-east, rising to 16,600 feet. We arrived at Lama Chokten, a pass protected by a Tibetan guard.
Lying low upon their ponies' heads, they probably imagined that they were passing us unperceived. Seeing that our bearings were for our old camp at Lama Chokten, they left our line and rode ahead of us. When, in the evening, we reached Lama Chokten two shepherds came to greet us. Then another appeared. "Our sheep are far away," said they. "We are hungry. We are poor.
That is the home of a good god!" And he pointed to the peak with the most devout air of conviction. Hundreds of these had been erected at this place by devotees. These Obos, or rough pyramids of stones, were to be found on the paths over high passes, near lakes, and at the source of rivers. At no place had I seen so many as at Lama Chokten.
Can we stop near your camp and pick up the food that you will throw away?" "Certainly," I replied. "But mind you do not pick up anything else." These simple people, thinking I should not know them, had left their ponies at the Lama Chokten guard-house, and, disguised as shepherds, were now trying to make friends with us, with the object of discovering our movements.
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