The Collected Works of Chogyam Trungpa: Volume One (40 page)

From here I sent a second messenger to Tsethar’s group to tell Akong Tulku where we were and the probable route that we intended to take. We went on down the valley and camped by a lake. It was so beautiful here that in spite of possible danger we could not resist choosing this site; the weather was however becoming colder. Our journey the next day was uphill; we gradually reached barer ground with more rocks and fewer trees, and the valley was becoming narrower; for several days the same sort of country lay before us. One morning we heard a man’s voice; some of our party rushed off rifle in hand as far as a small bridge we had just crossed. It turned out to be Bursar Tsethar with another monk. They told us that Akong Tulku was following close behind. Their party had sold most of their possessions and had been joined by about 120 more refugees who had insisted on coming with Akong Tulku. Tsethar said that they all wished to join our party. He approved of our plans and agreed that we had chosen the right route; on the other hand, he thought that a rescue operation might be organized from the Indian side to include all the refugees, so perhaps it would have been better if we had waited for this to happen. Since the weather was still good, however, we decided to go on. The valley proved to be longer than we had expected and we camped again in the shelter of herdsmen’s huts where we could have really good fires. We made the attempt to cross the pass over the high mountains very early the next morning, but were only able to get about a quarter of the way when it started to snow; the storm was so severe that we were brought to a standstill. However, we found some more huts where we could stop for a day and a night. In the afternoon some of our men struggled on to see how far up the pass they could go. They reported that the snow was terribly deep, much worse than the Tso-phu Pass. I arranged that eight of our strongest men should hand over their baggage and try to make a track through the snow which we could follow. They found that they could make no headway when walking and the only way was for a man to lie prone so as to push the snow down with his weight. This was extremely exhausting and each man could only do this particular job five consecutive times, then it was taken over by the next man, and so on as each man’s turn came round again; the others followed to tread down the track. The actual incline of the mountain was so steep that we almost had to turn back, for it did not allow of our making a zigzag track. As it was, the rest of our party managed to struggle after the leaders. When we had nearly reached the top, we saw a large group coming behind us in the valley; we took it for granted that this must be Akong Tulku’s party. By the time we reached a plateau, it was midday. We found ourselves surrounded by further rocks and making our way between them came suddenly upon a yet steeper gradient. However, at this great height the snow had hardened and this made the going slightly easier. It was difficult for the leaders to keep to the right track; several times they strayed off the path followed by the rest of the party, which meant that we all had to retrace our steps. However, at last we saw the prayer flag showing that we had reached the summit. The sun had already set and only a red glow remained; the wind was piercingly cold. The valley below seemed uninhabited, though we could not see very clearly as there were so many rocks in the way. Some of our party had fallen a long way behind; I felt anxious for the older people in case they had to spend the night in the snow. I knew that they could not have climbed any quicker, they had done magnificently by keeping up such a regular pace. We checked the list of families and felt sure that the younger members would look after their parents. All those who had reached the summit now started to walk down in the twilight. We saw a path of even ground below us, but had some difficulty in finding a way to reach it, being continually confronted with sudden rocky outcrops. A lot of loose stones got dislodged and the people in the rear had to shout a warning to those who were pressing ahead, for we had scattered in all directions, with each man trying to find his own way down. It was all but dark when the leaders reached a level piece of ground where we could stop for the night. There was an overhanging rock which offered shelter for some of us and my people insisted on giving me the best place; many others were forced to lie down in the snow. At sunrise we watched for the rest of the party. I feared that there might have been some casualties among the older members and was very happy to learn that everyone had survived. Once we were all together again we started down the valley, though everyone was pretty well exhausted after the hardships of the night before, but we felt we must struggle on since time and food were running very short. I sent a man ahead to see if the way was clear; he reported that he had not seen anyone and that the valley was a good one with no wild animals about. The wind had fallen and the sun was shining.

Now that we had crossed over the pass we were no longer in the Tong Gyuk Valley; we found ourselves on a plateau across which a river ran fed by streams from small surrounding valleys. Tsepa directed us to go by one of these valleys running southeast. There were ranges of mountains on either side of it so we could only keep to the valley bottom until we found a turning point. One day, as we were traveling particularly slowly, Akong Tulku suddenly came striding along ahead of his party to overtake us. It was a most joyful meeting for us both: He said that the pass had not been so difficult for his people, as we had already trodden down the snow. The rest of his party soon followed and we all went on together and camped in herdsmen’s huts. Akong had a great deal to report about happenings from the time when he received my letter telling of our intended departure from Nyewo with its details about getting rid of our animals and going on foot to Rigong Kha. Both his brother and Bursar Tsethar had thought that there must be some way to Rigong Kha which could be taken on horseback with the baggage on mules and yaks, and they had managed to cross the Alado River at a point near their camp, after which they went southeast by a temporary bridge built by some of the Resistance. From there they changed direction and went across several very high passes toward Rigong Kha. The track was so broken up that in many cases they had had to put three trunks over chasms between the rocks, and once they had to build a whole bridge themselves. Hard work like this could only be done by the able-bodied men while the rest of the party waited with the animals: It caused a lot of delay. In spite of all their care three of their horses were lost on these fragile bridges, also owing to lack of good feeding some of the horses were on the point of breaking down, so those which seemed too weak to continue the journey were sent back to Jigme Rinpoche’s group to recuperate. The party finally reached Rigong Kha with some three hundred yaks and twenty horses, to the great astonishment of the inhabitants, for they had never seen such animals before; and as there was little available grazing the beasts had often to be fed on grain.

When Tsethar and his companions heard that we had left about a fortnight previously for the Tso-phu Valley, they arranged to leave their horses and mules in the care of some of the villagers near Rigong Kha. Some of the refugees, however, could not bring themselves to part with their animals, so when they started on the further journey they took them with them, hoping they would be able to swim over the river at the cable bridge; but the current was so strong that many of the beasts were swept away by the flood.

By the time our friends reached the Tso-phu Valley our own tracks had become obliterated and some of the refugees, fearing that they would never find us, decided to stay in the valley with what animals they had left. Akong Tulku and Tsethar, however, were determined to carry on; incidentally they were also able to visit Kino Tulku whom they found to be very ill. He told them that he was very lonely without us, but was glad that we had gone on, for he thought our decision to try to get to India was a wise one, though it might bring us into danger.

The following morning as I looked down on the camp I was amazed to see so many people, for Tsethar’s group had added some 120 to our numbers, thus bringing the total up to nearly three hundred. We all went on together and as I looked back, it seemed more like an army on the march than a party of refugees.

The ground was still rocky with sudden steep slopes. At last we reached the junction of two valleys where the local trading road from the Powo Valley to Kongpo runs beside the river. Our scouts told me that they had seen a man with four loaded yaks going along it, so we waited for two hours, hiding among the rocks, while two of our men crossed the road and climbed the rocks above it, whence they could see about three miles of the road in either direction. Once they had given us the all clear the whole party crossed the road and forded the river beside it. Here we entered a small valley where we found several herdsmen’s huts, though no one was about. We spent a very disturbed night; several people thought that they heard men approaching and with so many women and children in the newly arrived party there was a great deal of noise in the camp with the babies crying a lot. At daybreak Tsepa and I held a consultation. He now recognized where we were and thought that we should leave the valley where we had spent the night in order to cross a high pass to the south; though he did not know what we would find on the farther side of it, he felt sure it would be in the right direction and we would be getting nearer to Lower Kongpo. No one else in the camp had the least notion of our position; they simply put their trust in the leaders and said they would follow them wherever they went. I felt that we could no longer take any risks and should avoid the more open valleys with so large a party, not to mention the many noisy children. Few of these people had any idea of how to hide themselves in an emergency and they were mostly wearing light-colored clothes, conspicuous against a dark background. They had so little imagination that it never entered their heads that the Communists might capture us. However difficult it might be for the older and the very young members of the party to go over this rough ground, Tsepa and I agreed that it was the only safe thing to do.

Before we set off again, I called everyone together. I explained that we were now likely to enter more dangerous country, for the land here was more thickly populated. It was important for everyone to realize that the Communists had control of this area, so no one could be trusted. If any of us should meet villagers it would be impossible to disguise the fact that we were a party of refugees. We must give them no clues about the direction that we were intending to take. Anything we bought must be paid for and everyone we happened to meet must be treated with the utmost courtesy. It was most important that we should make as little noise as possible, and if anyone felt ill, he must inform me at once.

We were still able to travel by day and crossed a low pass. Our guide was sure that from this point we should see some part of lower Kongpo. We all felt excited about it. However, when we reached the top, all we saw was another range of rocky mountains, with no sign of life. Tsepa was puzzled, he did not know where to go next, but decided that we should proceed down to a little valley that could be seen below. When we reached it we found that there was no outlet, so that it was necessary to traverse another mountain. Beyond this we found that we had three more ranges to cross at the last one of which we were faced with a near precipice. It was covered with flat slippery grass; the descent was dangerous and some of the older people fell. Yet another chain of mountains lay ahead of us. We followed tracks made by wild animals and when we reached the summit of the next col we found a deep round hollow with trees growing in the grass, large enough for us all to camp there for the night.

Our guide realized that he had lost his way and was much distressed; Tsethar also was much disturbed and began complaining that none of us had any definite idea about the way we ought to take; he added that he was sure that by now the rest of the refugees would have been rescued by the Resistance soldiers. I told him that we had no evidence of this and that I had been trusted to lead our party and we were all doing our best.

Next morning we followed a small track running across the shoulder of the mountain in front of us, which pointed in the direction of India. It sloped gently upward and was an easy walk. Unfortunately the land was very bare without trees or rocks, so I was afraid that our large party would be seen. Toward evening we noticed some small rocky mountains with a high range of snow-covered peaks behind them. People did not know what to think, some suggested that they were the mountains of Upper, others of Lower, Kongpo. As we mounted higher and higher the snow on the mountains reflected the dying sun and looked as if made of gold. We were afraid that if we went farther we would be on yet higher ground, so we camped for the night. The frost was severe; there were no streams and our only water came from melted snow. Added to this we were limited in our use of fires, partly for the fear that they would be seen and also because of the difficulty of finding anything to burn. The next day we discovered that the track we had been following only led to the snow mountains which were not in the right direction, so we changed course and descended by a steep slope. Ahead of us we saw a pleasant-looking valley with a river winding through it. There was some consternation in the camp when a black object was seen near the river which people thought was a man. Their uneasiness went so far that they imagined they heard voices. However, looking through my field glasses I could see that it was only a young yak, though there might well be a herdsman with it; even so, there was nothing to be done except to continue our downward course, for if we had stayed on the mountain we would have been still more conspicuous. We made our way through squat willows and found an empty hut. All who could went inside, while the rest of the party lay down in the open. Some of the younger members organized a scouting expedition in the evening; there appeared to be no one about.

Some of the refugees were getting very short of food and came to ask me how long I thought it was likely to be before they would be able to renew their stocks. I had to explain that it was unlikely to be soon and they must ration themselves very strictly. They carried on for about a week and then came again to ask me if my party could spare some of their rations; unfortunately we had not much left, for the going had been so difficult that we had only been able to cover short distances each day. By now our guide had completely lost his bearings; he had no idea where we were, but we continued more or less blindly and after crossing several more ranges found ourselves in a large valley on quite low ground which we thought would probably be inhabited. It was decided that I should go on ahead with Akong Tulku, Yak Tulku, Yönten, and our guide and if we found a possible way, we would signal to those behind. It was a great relief when we found that the valley was apparently empty. However, we did come across traces of dung and men’s footprints; Yönten and the guide thought they might be about twenty-four hours old. We consulted among ourselves about the next step to be taken, but no one had any positive suggestion. The party behind waited and watched us as we came back toward them. A lot of people wanted us to halt and make tea, but I thought this too dangerous, so we went on down the valley. After going about halfway down it we saw a mountain, its slopes thickly covered with pines; I suddenly felt sure that this was the way we should go, though Tsethar was not of my opinion; he thought that to go ahead on the chance would be most impractical. However, we all started to climb the slope, but when we had gone a mile or so Tsethar and several others suggested that it would have been much better to have continued along the valley. They grumbled that they had had no tea and were feeling tired, and now they were having to struggle up yet another mountain. I tried to explain that the valley they wished to follow led away from the direction of India, and it was also obvious that there were people living in these parts. Tsethar and the others were so annoyed that they began to argue with me. I told them, “If you want to go along the valley, you had better do so; in which case I can take no further responsibility for you. I myself am going up this mountain and when we reach a more remote spot we can stop and make tea.” Some of the refugees shouted, “Yes! That is the right thing to do” and finally they all decided to follow me. I understood how desperately tired everyone was feeling, yet I was confident that we must go this way. Personally, I felt a strange exhilaration traveling through such wild and unknown country; an inner strength seemed to sustain me. We walked on until we got above the pine level; here there was dense scrub, so that we lost our track again and again. It was a matter of battling through the undergrowth; those who had swords slashed their way through. Finally all of us reached the bare rocky mountainside beyond the scrub. In the distance, we heard sounds which seemed either to come from explosions and the rumbling of lorries, or, as some of the party thought, they might be sounds of actual fighting. On the farther side of the mountain we came to a dry valley. Since the decision to come this way had been entirely mine, our guide turned to me and asked where we should make for next. There were three gaps in the valley and he wanted to know which one we should choose. I said, “the middle one,” and when asked for my reasons I replied, “One had to be chosen”—I added the two Tibetan sayings, “A doubting mind will not fulfill one’s wish,” and “Two needles cannot sew at the same time.” As we went through the gap I saw a cairn by the side of it; this cheered me, for it showed that others had gone this way before. Farther on we suddenly felt a cold wind and found ourselves on the top of a cliff overlooking a lake which had black and red rocks reflected in it. My determination to take this way had not lessened and actually we found that the going was not too difficult, for we were able to move from rock to rock till we reached the farther side where we found tracks of wild animals. We now stopped for the night trying to screen our fires; however, it was impossible to disguise them from the sky and an airplane actually flew over. To add to my troubles I was told that one of the older men was very feeble; his relations were supporting him and other refugees carried his baggage. Beyond the lake the ground was flat and open, but ahead there lay a range of mountains, so that we were again faced with an arduous climb to a col, following tracks of hooves. Here the snow was deeper; we had to revert to the method we used over the previous high pass, with eight men again crushing down the snow under the weight of their prostrate bodies, though this time the gradient was not so steep as before. From the summit Tsepa thought that things looked more hopeful, we could again see far-distant ranges in a southerly direction which we thought must be on the farther side of the Brahmaputra. Our present position, however, was anything but an easy one. The ground sloped downward to a small depression and then rose again to an even higher range. Again we were faced with having to force our way through with the help of the eight men. This second climb proved to be very steep and I was exceedingly worried about the weak old man. We decided that he must be given more food, though our own resources were already so slender; it helped him to carry on. I looked forward to reaching the top of the col, since our guide had been so sure that we were traveling in the right direction; but when we arrived there, it was only to see that we were surrounded by ranges, all under snow. Sounds of distant lorries or explosions were no longer to be heard. We appeared to be at the end of a range; the ground in front of us led steadily downhill to a series of lakes almost below snow level, though there were scattered patches of snow all around. We stopped to rest by one of the lakes and I looked through my field glasses at the valley beyond. It was very broad with a river winding through it between meadows and patches of pines, but I did not see any people there. Our guide thought that we must be somewhere near Tsela Dzong, the junction of the Upper Kongpo River and the Brahmaputra. I knew that the district would be likely to be dangerous, especially if we took the wrong pass, for this part of the country was certainly both more thickly populated and under fairly complete Chinese occupation; we had heard that the Communists were trying to indoctrinate the inhabitants which meant that some could not be entirely trusted. I asked the others for their opinion and they all agreed that if we were really near Tsela Dzong the wide valley would be very unsafe, so it would be better to turn eastward toward Lower Kongpo. We therefore decided to go a little farther down the mountain and then veer round to a southeasterly course; this meant a longer route and led through a good deal of scrub. It brought us eventually to a series of valleys which we had to cross, a matter of continually scrambling up-and downhill for about a week.