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Updated: August 4, 2024
To show that we were not what they imagined, Chanden Sing and Dola tapped again so gently at the door that the bolt gave way. The next moment ten strangers were squatting down round a warm fire drying their shrivelled-up, soaked skins by the flame of dried tamarisk and dung.
He was intelligent, and could speak a few words of English. I had employed him to look after the men and to act as interpreter, if necessary. His uncle Dola was employed in the capacity of valet and cook. Instead of proceeding by the Lippu Pass, where the Jong Pen was waiting for me with his men, I made forced marches from Kuti in a different direction altogether.
Grave, indeed, was the news they brought. "Your days are numbered, sir!" at last cried Dola. "It is impossible for you to get out of this country alive!... They will kill you! The Jong Pen of Taklakot says he must have your head at any cost." "Do not look so far ahead, Dola," I replied, trying to console him. "Tell me, first, how you reached Taklakot?" "Oh, sahib, we followed your plan.
Kachi and Dola, who knew Tibetan well, were now summoned to address the bandits for me; but these two Shokas were in such terror that they could hardly walk, much less speak. After a while, however, seeing how well I had these terrible people under control, they were able to translate. "I want them to sell me some yaks and some ponies," I said. "I will pay handsomely for them."
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