The Collected Works of Chogyam Trungpa: Volume One (43 page)

The day seemed dreadfully long. There were sounds of firing near the village and we were afraid that the Chinese might have found some of our party. It was slightly warmer around midday and then became terribly cold again toward evening. We dared not open our food pack and there was no water. We could only moisten our lips with the hoarfrost.

About an hour after dark there were no further suspicious sounds to be heard, so we decided to walk on. Tsepa led the way in complete darkness and we climbed for about five hours until we reached the level of the fir trees. By this time we were completely exhausted and the cold was intense. However we found a little tsampa at the bottom of the food pack, and this, mixed with hoarfrost, made us feel slightly better; we could shelter in some hollow fir trunks and did our best to sleep. My attendant was magnificent; he was lying close to me and took this opportunity to talk about meditation. He said that the experience that he had just gone through had been a spiritual lesson for him; he was now feeling at ease and believed that our worst trials were behind us. I replied, “But what if we are captured tomorrow, one never knows? We are still in Chinese-occupied territory and their guards are hunting for us.” He begged me not to speak about it. I said, “This is only talk; we may actually have to go through this experience and if so, will it still be a test of meditation for you?” Then I raised my voice to ask Yak Tulku if he did not agree. “What are you talking about?” he said. “We are talking about meditation and whether this will help us if the Chinese capture us tomorrow.” He answered, “I am sure that the danger is over; what do you think lies beyond this mountain?” I gave the usual reply, “Another icy range, which will provide a still better opportunity for us to practice the yoga of inner heat, for this time we will be able to take up the correct posture”; this set everybody laughing. That night none of us could sleep; just before dawn we dozed off only to be awakened by a loud whisper from Tsepa. “Wake up! Wake up! Someone is coming.” We all alerted. A voice was heard and the crunch of frost under feet: We could see an advancing figure. Tsepa had his gun ready; we others held our breath. I whispered to Yak Tulku, “You remember our conversation of last night.” The steps faded and then came nearer again; Tsepa stood with his loaded rifle ready to fire. My attendant and I implored him not to use it. Suddenly a woman’s figure appeared followed by others; they were the peasant family who had joined us at Kino Tulku’s monastery. Behind them were Tsethar and Yönten; they had seen our footprints clearly on the frost-covered ground.

When Tsethar had gone back to the bank of the Brahmaputra to try and salvage some of the baggage he had met Yönten. They wanted to join our little group, but daylight overtook them, so they found a hiding place before reaching the village and remained there until the next night. They were only a few yards from the track between the village and the backwater and could see the villagers, and the Chinese going in all directions to hunt for the refugees. They could hear them talking to each other and saying that quantities of musk, gold and silver jewelry, and sable skins had been found strewn along the backwater. They also spoke of having captured some of the refugees. Though they came quite close to where Tsethar and Yönten were hiding they failed to see them. It was quite warm in their hiding place so the two men were able to take off their wet clothes and dry them. They were very anxious about our group, and wondered if the talk about captured refugees referred to us. When night fell they started to go uphill again and, on the way, met the peasant family; all of them passed through the village in safety. Since they had found it so easy to follow our footprints, we felt it was hardly safe for us to stay any longer where we were.

It was now two days since we had crossed the river, and I will now follow my diary.

December 17
. We could now travel by daylight, though whenever we heard a suspicious sound we halted immediately; however, we soon realized that these noises came only from wild animals. Tsethar suggested stopping for tea; he was afraid that we might break down. We dug a hole for the fire. Fortunately, we had some tea and butter left, though little else. The drink seemed a meal in itself and everyone had a good night.

December 18
. Our walk today was over open ground. We could look down on the village and the river, but we felt that we ourselves were too far away to be spotted from below. Our party of fourteen started out together; but since we now thought that we were beyond pursuit by the Communists, discipline became somewhat relaxed, with Tsethar, the peasant family, and my attendant lagging behind. From high up on the mountain we could see the many ranges that all our party had crossed together with such courage and determination, before we became separated at the Brahmaputra. We felt very sad, not knowing what had befallen our many friends and companions. We could clearly see both the river and its backwater, and through my field glasses I could distinguish a black patch which I took to be one of our coracles.

We did not stand for long on the skyline for fear of being seen, so the rest of us waited below the ridge while Tsepa went across to see what lay on the other side. He reported that it was a wild valley with no signs of a village, so we made our way down until we came to an obvious footpath which appeared to lead valleyward; on its surface we noticed prints of Tibetan boots which, however, on closer examination did not appear to be recent, so we followed the path down to the bottom. Here we spied a herdsman’s hut where we thought we might shelter for the night, but when we reached it we were disappointed to find that it had fallen into ruins and no longer had a roof. Still it was a luxury to find a level field surrounded by rocks to protect us from the wind, with a stream nearby. This was our first opportunity to dry our wet clothes and to mend a few things: Here at last we could all relax and wash. With approaching darkness we set to and collected wood for a fire by which we sat, lighted by the last rays of the setting sun.

Tsepa knew nothing of the country on this side of the Brahmaputra so we turned once again to the exceptional form of divination known as prasena, from which a clear vision came. It told us that we were to go up the mountain on our right, when we would see another range ahead; three cols would be visible and we were to make for the center one: This would be the last high range that we would have to cross.

Yak Tulku was now convinced that we would reach India and gave a short talk of reassurance to our little party. In the evening with a good fire in this cozy valley we at last felt warmer, but at night it began to freeze again and by morning our clothes were stiff with frost.

December 19
. We now had to climb another spur and were soon at snow level. As we went up, we could see villages some three to four miles away. This made us anxious, for our dark clothes could be so easily noticed against the white background, though the sun was on the villages and we were in the shade on the north side of the range. The snow here was quite deep, in places dangerous as it had turned to ice, and we were afraid of slipping. It took the whole morning to reach the top. On the southern slope there was no snow; the mountain was covered with short slippery grass dotted about with rocks. It was hard going with no indication of any path. A small valley now lay ahead of us and beyond it a high steep glaciered range of mountains where we could see three cols; we believed that the center one was the col indicated by prasena; it looked quite near but the climb up was quite a long one. The higher we climbed the deeper the snow became. Tsepa and Yönten were the only really strong men in our party, so we could not adopt the method we had used before in very deep snow. Now these two men went first and the rest of us followed as best we could; the ascent was very laborious and took most of the afternoon. To make matters worse, a snowstorm burst over us toward evening, covering the ice with snow. We kept cheerful and eventually reached the top at an altitude of about nineteen thousand feet above sea level. Rising almost perpendicularly to the east of our pass was Mount Namcha Barwa or the Blazing Mountain of Celestial Metal; its crest glittered far above the clouds, for this mountain is over 25,000 feet high (see photograph in chapter 15).

As we looked back along our path we saw that five cairns had been built at a lower level, so this track was obviously the right one.

The storm had now passed and the sun was shining again. When we looked down on the south side we saw that we were surrounded by snowy peaks with behind them range after range of lower mountains reaching into the far distance in every direction; these looked a smoky blue color as if covered by a jungle of trees; we thought that the most distant ones might be in Indian territory.

At our feet the ground looked very rough; it appeared to be a moraine with a series of rocks showing deep patches of snow between them. There was no way of bypassing this stretch; we had to go straight down it. The whole place seemed completely desolate, without even traces of wild animals. The surface was appallingly slippery; Yak Tulku slid down in a sitting position for about fifty yards and was only stopped by a small rock within a few feet of a sheer drop. Farther down the gradient became, if anything, even steeper; we seemed surrounded by cliffs and could see no way of getting by them. Looking back we could see that had we attempted to cross either of the other two cols it would have been disastrous, for glaciers fell away steeply on this side of them; so though our own position was far from pleasant, any other way would have been worse. It was getting near nightfall and dislodged stones were falling on the people in front. We decided to get out of line and to search individually for any possible pathway. Tsepa suddenly shouted that he thought he had found a way down. It led downward through a slight depression between two almost perpendicular rocks. Following in Tsepa’s track we came to a cave surrounded by bushes. By now it was quite dark and since we felt that we were safe from any possible unpleasant encounters we made a glorious blaze and spent the evening in devotional chanting. The nun still had some butter, Akong Tulku’s young brother some tea, and both Yönten and the peasant family a little tsampa, so we had all the basic necessities. This was the first night since the beginning of our escape that I slept really peacefully.

December 20
. We were desperately short of food, so we could not afford to delay. As we walked down in the morning we looked at a stretch of snow-covered ground surrounding a large lake. We made our way beside it and a little farther on suddenly found ourselves at the edge of a steep escarpment which at first appeared to be impassable. However there was a crack running down it which, though abrupt, had an uneven stony surface affording a reasonably firm foothold; the younger people among us helped those who found it too difficult. Once we got to the bottom everything looked easy, for we were in a small valley with a frozen stream running through it and there was much less snow. The country was completely deserted with no sign of human habitation, the only living creatures being wild animals such as deer, foxes,
etc.
We chose a sheltered camping place among rocks, from where we could see distant woods of holly and fir.

December 21
. In the morning we noticed a large patch of green which we took for field of grass, but when we reached it we found to our horror that it was a large muddy swamp which could not be crossed. We tried to walk around it; this presented further difficulties, for the whole land was covered with a very prickly kind of thorn bush which had to be hacked through with every available knife or sword. This was particularly arduous work and took a long time. Toward evening we reached the junction of two rivers. There was evidence here of recent footprints. We thought that this might be a track leading to Doshong Pass and that Chinese might be in the neighborhood, though the footprints were clearly of Tibetan boots. That night we camped among reeds and trees beside the river.

December 22
. As we went on I felt more and more puzzled, for everything looked somehow strange. It was all utterly unlike anything I had known hitherto; the air was much warmer and there were so many unknown trees. We were obviously getting near to an inhabited part of the country. That evening, as we sat round the fire, we held counsel together. The question was whether, if we were within reach of a source of food supplies, we could now allow ourselves to consume more of the slender remains of our food, or whether, if the Chinese were in the district, we must ration ourselves yet more severely. Someone suggested that if the Chinese were indeed here, it might be best to surrender, for we were in a poor state of health after so many acute privations and were near starvation. However, most of the party felt sure that there were no Chinese in the vicinity and, even if there were, they said that at all costs we must not surrender but must still make every effort to escape. That night, while trying to sleep, we heard many strange noises and at first were greatly disturbed, until we realized that they only came from the wild animals around us.

December 23
. We had been continuously going up and down the mountain slopes and now hoped to find easier ground. However, with every step the way seemed to become more difficult; the ground was again rougher and the mountains steeper; the trees here grew much taller. In places we had to negotiate great rocks, only able to be crossed by narrow footholds, with rusty chains for support, which reminded me of the track to Rigong Kha; the streams merely had log bridges of the most primitive kind. It was so tiring jumping from rock to rock that I was beginning to feel at the end of my tether, hardly knowing how to go on; but I dared not tell this to anyone for fear of discouraging them. We camped in a little cave and again saw traces of the same footprints as before. Our tsampa and butter were now all but gone, though we still had some tea; Tsethar remarked that we would have to reach a village within a day or so, otherwise we would all die. A voice called out, “Be a strong Khampa and don’t lose heart,” and everyone laughed.