The Collected Works of Chogyam Trungpa: Volume One (41 page)

Touch and Go!

T
HOUGH
I
HAD
frequently impressed upon all members of our party that they must inform me about any particular difficulties, I had been given no warning of an emergency, until some of them came to tell me that several of them had run out of food. They were actually beginning to boil the leather of their yak-skin bags; usually this leather is roughly cured with much of the fat left in it so it has some food value. I made enquiries among other groups and found they were having to do the same thing. The people had not wanted to worry me, since they knew that I had so many other grave anxieties.

At the same time we again lost our bearings and went too far in a northeasterly direction, which compelled us to retrace our steps for three days. Tsepa’s belief that we were near Tsela Dzong had evidently been wrong. We now followed a small valley running east until it also turned in a northerly direction and we had to leave it for another leading toward the south. Again there were more mountain ranges in front of us; the nearest ones were not very high and we were able to cross two each day for three days, but after this we were faced with much higher ridges each of which took more than a day’s traveling to cross.

By this time many more of the refugees had consumed their last provisions, except for their leather bags and my own group had decided that they too must fall back on this fare, though some leather would have to be kept to build the coracles needed to cross the Brahmaputra, which meant we would have to go on very short commons meanwhile; it was now early November and there were no wild vegetables which could be used as a supplement. In spite of all their troubles the party was still cheerful and as soon as they found themselves in sufficiently remote places everyone would laugh and sing and individual groups would join with the monks in devotional chanting. They all seemed to have become acclimatized to the routine of traveling and the daily hardships.

Previously the weather had been good and usually sunny, but now winter was beginning with storms of rain turning into snow. It was taking longer to cover any distance over these high mountains and looking back we could often see the spot where we had camped the evening before. One day, after reaching the summit of a col, as we walked down on the farther side we could see open country with a broad river flowing through it which we thought must be the Brahmaputra. The landscape was clouded in smoke, but through my field glasses I could see Chinese lorries moving along the road beside the river. This came as a shock to all of us, for we had not known that there was a roadway through Lower Kongpo. Tsepa thought that this time we really must be near Tsela Dzong, where the river is too wide to be crossed using the limited means at our disposal; besides there was a large Chinese establishment there and a great many inhabitants. We were still traveling by day though taking great precautions. The land was much lower here and there were many secluded valleys where we could camp, so traveling was easier. People crossing these mountains had often built tall cairns to indicate the track; some of these from a distance looked alarmingly like human figures. As we turned farther to the east, being still on high ground, we could see a number of villages beside the Brahmaputra; in the evenings lights were visible; they seemed to be brighter than house lamps and we took it for granted that they were the headlights of Chinese vehicles. Our guide said that we were near Temo Monastery; he recognized the bend of the Brahmaputra. Therefore we would still have to keep to the mountains for a time, and moreover if we followed the bends of the river the distance would be much increased; in any case we would not be able to light fires in the daytime, and only at night by using great care to conceal them by digging holes in the ground. By now we were feeling the shortage of food very acutely and came to the conclusion that we must try to find a shorter route. We thought that where we now were was too dangerous, so we retreated to a more remote area. Now we mostly had to travel between sunset and midnight, for there were few bushes or any sort of cover. Our guide was bewildered again and led us over col after col. The old man who had been so ill before finally dropped down and died; his son had done all possible to help him and had even carried his father over the worst passes. Suddenly another old man felt too exhausted to walk farther and insisted on going down to one of the villages. He promised not to divulge our whereabouts nor to tell anyone about the escaping party.

The landscape was beginning to change to more rocky and bare ground. We came across local tracks which we had to avoid and it was often difficult to find a suitable place to camp. Most of the party were showing signs of extreme fatigue, but all the same they kept up their spirits. After several more crossings on high ground Tsepa realized that we were approaching the Temo Pass on the Powo-to-Lhasa road. This meant that we must cross the road at the top of the pass and, in order to reach it, we must travel through the night. All the way lay under snow and it was impossible to avoid leaving tracks; unfortunately we could not reach the pass that same night and were forced to camp in the bitter cold hiding our fires with the greatest caution. Next evening we started off again; there were many animal tracks, but owing to the snow no people were traveling. At twilight we could see the pass beneath us, but we had to wait till it became dark and from our concealed position we watched and listened carefully for any possible travelers on the road. Though the snow was lying on the mountainside, the road itself was clear and we were able to cross it without mishap, though a man and horse must have passed earlier in the day, for their prints could be clearly discerned.

I had told everyone to walk in single file so that our tracks would not appear to belong to a very large party. We now needed to hurry on as quickly as possible to find somewhere where we could be concealed before daybreak; unfortunately the land here was very bare with little scrub and lay mostly under snow; it would have been easy for anyone to follow us, so we left a man to keep watch behind us and sent another scout ahead. The land was undulating and when we reached the higher places we could see for miles around, but the only thing to catch the eye was the track that we had made. Again we turned aside and found higher mountains in front of us, which appeared to be wild and uninhabited, so we could again travel by daylight. From the time that we crossed the road all the party had made a special effort to walk quickly; tired though we all were, we could not afford to stop and a few short rests taken at intervals had to suffice; the fact that everyone was on short commons made the strain all the greater. The all-important thing was to conserve our energies for the critical moment when we would have to cross the main Chinese high road and, after that, the Brahmaputra. After several more days’ traveling our guide again lost his way and we could only guess our direction. As we went we were faced with continuous ranges of mountains and valleys; there seemed no way to get through.

It has been mentioned before that people who were unable to carry all their own baggage often arranged for a stronger man to take the extra load by promising him half its contents at the journey’s end. My own group now felt that they must fall back on their reserve of tsampa: To our dismay, we found that the man who had been carrying it had not only consumed his own share, but ours as well, and the same thing had happened in several other cases. Nevertheless, no one ever attempted to kill any of the wild animals that we came across in our wanderings; this compassionate self-control displayed by a whole band of desperately hungry people moved me greatly at the time, and it remains a treasured memory of those heart-searching days.

We were now quite lost, surrounded by rocks on every side; there was nothing left for me to do except to resort to takpa. The question that faced us was which rocks to choose for our next climb. Following the directions given by the takpa and after climbing the particular rock it indicated we saw a high mountain with a col on its shoulder. The snow was very deep and the sun dazzled us, but fortunately most of the party carried either dark goggles or eyeshades. Actually, the climb up was easier than the rough ground we had been crossing before, where we had had to jump from rock to rock; but the descent on the farther side to a lower level was very steep and there seemed no indication where to go next. It was again left to me to make a decision, so I headed for a small lake surrounded by rocky ground which we bypassed only to find ourselves confronted by three other ranges with rather steep cols leading gradually to lower ground. After this another line of mountains loomed ahead with a pass across which did not appear to be too steep. Tsepa and I always went ahead to direct the party and when we reached the top of this last pass we were amazed to see the Szechwan-to-Lhasa main road running along the mountainside below, less than a quarter of a mile away. I told everyone not to make any noise and to wait until I could find somewhere where we could all be hidden. This was not difficult on the boulder-covered ground, so when everyone else was safely under cover Tsepa and I went out to investigate our surroundings. Through field glasses we could see the road leading through the Serkyem Pass, which was actually the point that we had been aiming for; once across it we knew we would be very near Lower Kongpo and the spot where we should try to cross the Brahmaputra.

When we returned to the others we found them all preparing for this, the most dangerous part of our journey. The older people were nervous, fearing that traveling on the south side of the river would prove too much for them and that, should they fall out by the roadside, the Chinese would be bound to find them and through them would trace the whole party. I told them that we must all cross over the road at the Serkyem Pass together and that the younger ones must carry the luggage to enable the older people to walk more quickly. If a Chinese lorry should come along when they were about to cross, everyone must lie down in the fosse beside the road and make no movement. We waited till dark before approaching the road, but when we were some twenty yards away from it we suddenly saw the headlights of a lorry. Fortunately there were a lot of rocks close at hand behind which we all ducked. I had to be very severe with one woman who, to help herself control her fear, was chanting mantras in a loud voice; I told her that she must only whisper under her breath. Since the road went in loops round the mountain we had time to take cover while the lorry was still some distance away; as it came nearer and nearer we could hear the crunching sounds of its gear changes and soon its headlights illuminated the very rocks where we lay concealed. We held our breaths and the minutes seemed like hours, but eventually the lorry passed out of sight and earshot. Just as we were on the point of getting to our feet for the dash across—one man was actually standing up—we heard the noise of a second lorry. As it came near we heard the Chinese talking in high-pitched and, as it seemed to us, excited voices; I was afraid it was because they had seen us; however, all was well and the lorry passed by. After a silence of about five minutes we all walked together across the road leaving two men to brush out our footsteps. On the farther side the ground was still rocky but became smoother as we worked our way down the valley; the air also felt much warmer. The discipline observed by everyone was beyond all praise; they looked very serious and no one spoke a word. After some three miles we turned into a side valley which was thickly wooded. We could still see parts of the road and would have been able to spot any approaching headlights; however, there seemed to be no further traffic on it. We walked upward through the valley to cross a pass in the mountains. The nun, who was the sister of the chöpön of Yak monastery, now completely broke down both physically and mentally; it would have been too dangerous for the whole party if we had stopped for her, so we gave her what little food we could spare and then left her: It was a horrid decision to have to take—it left a guilty feeling—but the safety of the whole party allowed of no other alternative. Generally speaking, the older refugees, by walking in a measured pace, had managed to save their energy for this especially dangerous time and they now walked in front, while it was the younger ones who lagged behind. I was feeling very exhausted myself; both Akong Tulku and Yak Tulku did their best to cheer me. The latter, however, was getting worn out by this continual going up and down mountains; he kept saying to me, “Rinpoche, what do you think we shall find behind this one?” I could only answer, “I don’t know, perhaps we shall find a nice, warm, secluded valley.” At last to shut him up I said, “Probably we will find another still higher snow mountain.” That stopped him worrying.

After climbing the next chain of mountains we walked along the ridge for about two miles in a southerly direction. My opinion was that we ought to bear south, but our guide was most emphatic in urging us to follow a westerly course. After a time we came upon a little rocky hollow covered in small scrub where it was possible to camp; the ground was too uneven for people to lie comfortably, but we were all thankful to have found a place where we could stop. Immediately fires were got going, care being taken to screen them from sight. There was now sufficient time to stew down some of our leather; other refugees had previously taught us how to do it. The leather has to be soaked for a day until it swells, then cut in small pieces and stewed for several hours till it begins to sizzle and looks like meat. We still had a little tea, salt, and butter and after the first sip of our national beverage we all felt better. Yönten was the chief cook for our group and also did the serving. I was waiting to share the communal dish when he said, “We have kept a little
tsampa
especially for you.” I asked him why, for I wished to share in everything on equal terms; he answered that leather was not suitable for his abbot to eat. I felt a little sad that this line had been drawn between me and the others; however, I discovered Akong Tulku and Yak Tulku’s monks had done the same thing for them. By now, everyone seemed cheerful again and we slept in the hollow during the whole of the next day. Some of our men went up the mountain to spy out the land through field glasses; they could see the main Chinese road which we had just crossed and dozens of lorries full of soldiers traveling along it. Some of the refugees were becoming a little careless about allowing their fires to smoke during the day and I had to be very firm with them. Toward evening we started off again to cross another range; the ground was covered with short grass and sloped down in easy stages; however, the wind was very cold and sharp. In the far distance we could see villages and far behind them a snow-covered range which we thought must lie on the farther side of the Brahmaputra. Starting off again next day we went farther down the slope toward the Lower Kongpo Valley through which the Brahmaputra flows, being much narrower at this point. This area was densely populated and there were villages halfway up the mountainside on the narrow strip beside the river, besides others in various branch valleys. The land was thickly covered with holly trees. We did not see a road nor did we hear any sounds of lorries; this was reassuring, since it would make things easier for us when trying to cross the great river. Between us and it there was a succession of low hills and valleys where there would be villages and we actually could see smoke coming from some of them, so we looked for a place where the mountain went directly down to the water’s edge. Ahead of us there was a small closed valley covered with brushwood, but to go down to it over such rough ground could not be done in the dark; hearing the sound of men’s voices and a dog barking we thought it would be unwise to go farther, so stayed where we were for the night. Next day I sent two men to investigate. They found a path leading downhill which, however, seemed to pass too dangerously near villages, so we changed our direction, fighting through thorny scrub until at last we found easier ground where only fir trees and holly grew; it was much warmer here. We went on until we noticed the smell of burning wood in the air; not daring to go farther we camped among the boulders. Again I sent men to look round and in the daylight I went with Tsepa and Ugyen Tendzin to see for myself. We thought that if we followed a spur running below us, this would get us down to the Brahmaputra without hindrance. However, we could only see the slope of the spur which hid the river, and we could not tell if there were any villages on the bank. Here was another problem: We would need coracles to cross the river. We had brought the leather of the two we used to cross the Nyewo, but it had been kept folded up and had become stiff as a result; it needed to be soaked for a long time and there were few streams in the neighborhood. I told my companions that we could at least go on for a few miles, for I felt sure that there were no nearby villages, so we started in the evening. The footprint of a man was suddenly spied in the track and we came upon a watermill a few paces farther on; fortunately the men who worked the mill had already gone home for the night. Some of Repön’s people, who were desperately short of food, suggested that they should break open the door, and if they found anything eatable they would take it and leave some money. I told them that this would give a clue which could only lead to our discovery. Farther on we came to a horse track and heard the sound of the bell on a passing horse. A murmur went through the party: They wondered if this was a Chinese or some villager; if the latter, they thought that perhaps he would sell them some food. Meanwhile the sound had ceased, so I said nothing. We crossed this local track; looking through my glasses, it seemed as if the rocky ground led straight down to the river, in which case it was time to get the coracles ready. We needed at least six more. We scouted round till we found a suitable place near a mountain stream where we were able to soak our coracle coverings together with other yak-skin bags; the whole camp joined in the work of making the frames and sewing together the pieces of leather under the superintendence of Ugyen Tendzin.