At the appointed hour on the following day, I repaired to the Government building, and the guards refused me admittance until about five o’clock. When finally I was admitted to the royal presence, it was only to be told that his Highness was extremely busy that day, and that he would see and give me the necessary papers the following day at the Lamban preserve.

When I came back to my lodging that evening my servant expressed himself as quite sure that I was being duped and that I would never be allowed to reach Lamban on the morrow. That was bad. So I walked a distance of about two and a half miles and back, in order to see and be assured by the King’s Lord Chamberlain that I was only uselessly worrying myself.

On the 17th I hired an ekka (a single seat carriage) and with my servant drove to the foot of a mountain called Binbiti, going over a distance of about four days’ journey on foot. On the way I went to the royal preserve of Lamban, which is situated at the southern end of the Dalai Jungle. The place presented a grand sight on this occasion, for a hunt was being held in honor of the Coronation of the Emperor of India. There must have been fully five or six hundred tents pitched, covering an immense tract of land and forming an entrance to the famous Dalai Jungle. The royal tents sheltering the Kings and their multiple consorts, the Princes and Princesses, were conspicuously beautiful to look at, while the sight of those of the Ministers of State and others, variegated in colors of red, white, blue and yellow, dotting the woodland, was both grand and picturesque. There were about two thousand soldiers present, all of the Royal Bodyguard. Their uniform was after the British pattern, and they all looked men of splendid physique.

Being refused admittance, I hung about the royal precincts for about four hours, all the time looking for an opportunity to obtain an audience. Ultimately I got a glimpse of the King, who was going out on a hunt seated on a huge elephant. He recognised me, but had just time enough to express his regret and tell me to come to him in the morning; and he was gone! Then my servant again tried to make light of my credulity; but I scolded him into silence.

At six o’clock on the morning of the 18th, I smuggled myself into the royal enclosure, having chosen an unguarded spot for the purpose. There was such a great number of tents that I in vain tried to locate that intended for royalty. While wandering about I was challenged by an officer. I explained the purpose of my presence there, only to be told that the time for audience had not yet arrived. Eventually the officer ordered a private to see me out of the enclosure. I thought that, once out of the enclosure, I might never have an opportunity of seeing the King, and feigning not to hear the remonstrances of the private, I doggedly held my ground. Finally a guard came and ordered me out. I said that I was there by the order of the King. But my words were only wasted on the sturdy soldier, who forthwith collared me and with a push on my back, as I staggered up, hurled me out of the enclosure, handling me altogether as if I were a little child. Outside the fence I became an object of the laughter of the soldiers and of jeering remarks from the general spectators. Professor of resignation and self-denial though I am, this treatment could not but displease me. But on second thoughts I awoke to the fact of my still lacking the spirit of patience and perseverance. Dead to my surroundings for the time being, I sat in silence on the grass for hours, and in the meanwhile I could not hold back my tears as I thought, if it was hard for me to bear these insults, how great must be the suffering of my Tibetan friends and benefactors, who because of me were even then, as I imagined, undergoing dreadful tortures, having no one to vindicate their innocence for them, and I composed an uta for my consolation:

At about eleven o’clock I noticed the Lord Chamberlain passing by me, and I hastened to acquaint him with the plight I was in. His Lordship greatly commiserated me and at once gave orders that I should that minute be taken to the tent of royal reception. After waiting another two hours in the tent, the King was announced—the Prime-Minister-King I should have said.

The King wanted to know what I wished to have from him. The passport, I said. Then he said that that I should certainly have, but that what he had meant was if I was well provided with travelling funds. I replied that I had then with me three hundred rupees. His Highness thought that the amount was not enough for my purpose, and ordered his attendants to give me two hundred rupees. I refused to accept his generosity, saying that I had not come to his country to make money. What was it then that I wanted in reality? I was on the point of making a direct reference to my petition; but that spirit of caution and forbearance which I have already mentioned counselled me once more to bide my time on that score; and I disclosed a part of my desire, that I wished to secure a complete collection of the Samsk?? text of the Bu??hist Scriptures in existence in Nepal, offering in return to forward the Japanese edition of the same on my return home. That I should have, he said, and ordered me to present a list of the texts I wanted to the Regent at Katmandu, where His Highness was to return in twenty-five days. Henceforward I became a sort of special traveller under royal protection, for a police official was detailed to escort me to Katmandu.