Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: April 30, 2025
But Delhi had spewed them out again, and oh! how exquisite the promise of the "Hills" was, and the thunder of the train that hurried the bumping wheels that sang Himahlayas Himahlyas! the air that blew in on them unscented the reawakened memory the heart's desire for the cold and the snow and the cruelty the dark nights and the shrieking storms and the savagery of the Land of the Knife ahead!
At last we reached our camping-ground, situated under the lee of the high chain of mountains to the north of us and on the northern bank of the Mangshan River. Directly in front of us stood the final obstacle the great backbone of the Himahlyas. Once across this range, I should be on the high Tibetan plateau so accurately described as "the roof of the world."
From the Maium Pass a continuation of the Gangri chain of mountains stretched first in a south-easterly direction, then due east, in a line almost parallel to the higher southern range of the Himahlyas. Between these two ranges was an extensive plain intersected by the Brahmaputra.
They were, of course, the three sepoys from Gyanema in disguise. At each step in our retreat toward the Himahlyas my heart became heavier. I was thinking out fresh plans, but to think out plans and to carry them into effect were two different matters. How many times had my schemes been upset! How often had I been forced to begin afresh when all seemed to point toward success!
From Bombay, in India, I travelled north to the end of the railway, at Kathgodam, and then by carts and horses to Naini Tal. At this little hill-station on the lower Himahlyas, in the north-west Province of India, I prepared my expedition, resolved to force my way in the Unknown Land. Naini Tal is 6407 feet above the level of the sea.
In a work called In the Forbidden Land a detailed description will be found of my experiences with those strange people, and also of our long marches through that beautiful region of the lower Himahlyas. We reached at last a troublesome part of the journey a place called the Nerpani, which, translated, means "the waterless trail." Few travellers had been as far as this point.
In the evenings in camp they often joined in weird love-songs, in memory of the fair maids of their hearts whom they had left behind, on the other side of the Himahlyas. Kachi hurried away in a state of great excitement. He was back in a few minutes. "How many coolies will you take, sir?" "None will come." "Oh, I will get them," said he, with assurance. "Will five do?"
The beams and rafters supporting the roof had been brought over from the Indian side of the Himahlyas, as no timber was to be found in western Tibet. This building was in charge of a young, half-crazy Lama, who was most profuse in salutations, and who remained open-mouthed, gazing at us for a considerable time. He was polite and attentive.
From this high point we obtained a beautiful bird's-eye view of the Tibetan plateau. Huge masses of snow covered the Tibetan side of the Himahlyas, as well as the lower range of mountains immediately in front of us, lying almost parallel to our range. Two thousand feet below, between these two ranges, flowed, in a wide barren valley, a river called the Darma Yankti.
This gave us additional trouble. Some of the precipices we had to cross were extremely dangerous. I reached the highest village in the Himahlyas, a place called Kuti, at an elevation of 12,920 feet. Here I hastily made my final preparations for the last dash across the frontier. Every available Shoka had joined my party, and no inducement brought more volunteers. I needed two extra men.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking