Turning about to see what it could be, I caught sight of two stout fellows armed with Tibetan swords. On their approach, I asked them what they wanted. Abruptly picking up a stone, the younger of them threatened me and said: “What do you mean?”

“Run off,” he menaced, “or you shall die.”

Then I took my seat on a stone by the roadside and gave myself up for lost. The men strode toward me, and violently seized my stick.

“Tell us what you have and where you come from,” they said.

“I am a pilgrim,” I answered, “and I come from Tise.”

“You have money?”

“I have a little,” I said, “not worth taking, as I was robbed at Jangthang.”

“What have you on your back?”

“Some food and the Scriptures.”

“Unpack it and let us see; you may have much money there.”

“No, the money is in my pocket,” I said “and not in the baggage. Being a priest, I never tell a lie. You may have either the money or the baggage, if you wish.”

I was just going to give them money when three horsemen appeared riding towards us, and at sight of them the highwaymen took to their heels, leaving the stick and everything else. Thus I was saved.

“Who are they?” asked the horsemen, and on my answering that they had demanded of me my money and baggage, they expressed their disgust.

“Go to yonder temple,” they added after a little pause, “and you will find a village. Be quick and we will see you safe there.”

I thanked them and walked on toward the village, and the horsemen went away westward after a little while. Instead of stopping there for the night, I proceeded eastwards as far as Nya-mo-Hotta, a little village about seven miles off, where I lodged. The following day I took lunch at Teshok, and stopped at Tak-tsu-kha in the evening. On December 20th at dawn, I went south-east through the deep snow, it having snowed very hard the night before. While going along the river Brahmapu?ra, I saw some cranes walking in the snow, and was so delighted that I forgot that I was in so cold a climate.

Then I amused myself with composing Utas, of which the following is one:

Amid such beautiful scenes I went down along the southern bank of the river, and after about eight miles’ walk I came to Kurum Namse, where I took lunch. I proceeded still further east along the same stream for about five miles, and found the river running north-east, while my road lay south-east into the mountain. I went up the hill about four miles, and stopped at Shab-Tontub.

On the following morning I went eastwards again along a clear stream, and after about four miles I could see from its banks a rocky mountain, at the foot of which there was a temple called Cham Chen Gompa (meaning ‘the monastery of the great image of Charity’, i.e., the Bo?hisa??va of that name), where there was an image of the Bu??ha Mai?reya about thirty-five feet high. Bo?hisa??va Mai?reya (which name means ‘Charity’) is honored as next to Bu??ha in rank, but in Tibet he is worshipped as a Bu??ha who will hereafter appear again on earth. I worshipped at this temple, and then at the shrine of the divinities, and of Shakyamuni Bu??ha beside the temple. Then I entered a lamasery. This temple, which is the largest between Lhasa and Shigatze, has two hundred dormitories, with three hundred priests. The chief priest of the house where I stopped was in great distress on account of some bad dreams which he had had on several successive nights. He had dreamed that he was dying, and this troubled him much, for he had immense wealth. So he asked me to read the Scriptures to him, so that he might be free from the supposed evil. I knew of no gospel specially suitable for such purposes, but I thought that the reading of the Bu??hist canon might do him good, so I told him that I would do as he wished, and from the following day began reading The Aphorisms of the White Lotus of the Wonderful Law and other Scriptures in Tibetan.

It was on the 28th of December, as I remember, that a priest was going to Katmandu in Nepal, and I seized the occasion to send a letter home by him, addressed to my bosom friend Tokujuro Hige. I paid him a comparatively large sum of money and asked him to send it registered from the post office of Nepal. The man was reputed so honest that he had never been known to tell a lie, but strangely enough the letter failed to reach its address, as I have since discovered.

During the afternoon of the 31st I was sped on my way by the head priest, who lent me a horse. I got on the horse, loaded it with my baggage, and going east for about three miles, came to Ta-mi-la, where I was asked to read the Scriptures. While riding to the village, I lifted up my thanks to Bu??ha for the grace by which I had been saved through so many calamities and afflictions during the year, it being the last day of the 33rd year of Meiji according to the Japanese mode of reckoning (A.D. 1900). I did not know what adversities were yet in store for me, but I could not but think that I might be kept safe to do all I could for the cause of Bu??hism.

The New Year’s Day dawned, but I met with nothing special to mark the day, as the Tibetans use the old calendar. Still I got up early at three o’clock in the morning, and turning east, as I had done every New Year’s Day, I began the New Year’s reading of the Scriptures. For, as Bu??hism teaches us, it is our duty to pray for the health of the sovereign, and every Bu??hist reads the Scriptures on New Year’s Day, in however remote a place he may happen to be, and prays for the welfare of the Imperial Family. I read the Scriptures at the village till the 5th, and on the following day I proceeded seven miles to Omi, where I stopped for the night. In a temple of this village there was an image called in Tibetan Sung Chung Dolma (the Mother of Salvation who utters a command) which was about three feet high, and so beautiful that it seemed as if it might even speak. The Tibetans told me that the image at one time actually spoke. I read the Scriptures there for two days, and received many gifts. I had met the highwaymen, and had been robbed of my money, but money was constantly given to me, and my reading the Scriptures earned me so many gifts, that I had now laid by a considerable sum of money, and I was living on the food given to me by others.

On the 12th of January, at 5 o’clock in the morning, I set out on my journey with a coolie, who carried my baggage. We went on south-east along the bank of a stream flowing through the mountains. Here we found the snow turned into ice, and so slippery was the ground that we had to take great care, lest we should fall. Going on for about twelve miles, we found ourselves at Choe Ten, where there were many hot springs, three of them warm enough to bathe in. I do not know for what disease they might be really efficacious, though they seemed to me to be good for rheumatism. I saw several places in the stream where steaming springs could be seen boiling up. We took our lunch and again went on eastward for about nine miles, till we came in sight of a temple called Mani Lha-khang, in a willow plantation along the river. This temple was so called, because it enshrined a large bronze cylinder holding many pieces of paper each bearing the spell mani, consisting of the following six sounds ‘Om-ma-ni-pad-me-hum’ and meaning “all will be as we will.” The tube was beautifully wrapped in copper foil, and ornamented with gold and silver. It had an iron axle through it and was so formed that it would revolve from left to right. This temple is among the most famous in Tibet. The founder of the temple was Je Tsong-kha-pa, who started a new sect. His memory is held in great esteem in the country, and especially in this temple, mostly because he was the inventor of the “prayer-cylinder”.

I stopped at this temple, the keeper of which was very rude; without any scruple he asked me to read his face for him, for he said I looked out of the common. I had never studied physiognomy, but I thought that I might thus teach a lesson to the Tibetans, who are very superstitious. So I told him that I was very sorry for him, for he seemed to be a man who, though often given money and other things, would sustain much loss through other men, and for whom the future would have nothing but debt. Singularly enough, this exactly told his past life, and he was so surprised at my words, that he told all about me to his richest neighbor, called Dorje Gyalpo (Prince Diamond). That very evening a fine lady, who I was told was the wife of the rich man, came to me with a child, and asked me to tell its fortune. This troubled me not a little. But when I saw the sickly and feeble state of the child I could easily guess what would happen, so I ventured to tell her that I was very sorry, for the child seemed likely not to live long, and I also told her about the philosophy of retribution. She asked me if there was no way of saving its life. I thought how glad I should be if I could have an opportunity of reading the ‘complete Text,’ as I knew that I should have very little chance of doing so after reaching Lhasa. I said therefore that a long reading of the Scriptures might do some good. She went home early that evening.

Very strange indeed! the child fell so ill the following morning that the whole family was struck with my chance prediction, and I was asked to come to the house to read the Scriptures, even though it might take several days to do so. I said I would, but as they had no copy of the ‘complete Scriptures’ I asked for a man to be sent to Rong Langba, a little further up the hill, to borrow a copy. In the meanwhile I sat in the usual religious meditation, when suddenly my ears caught the sound of weeping and crying women in the kitchen. What could all that mean? Something serious must have happened in the house. Still I kept quiet, as it was none of my business to go and see. Soon, however, the mistress of the house came to tell me that the child had died as predicted, and she asked me to save it. I was also surprised to learn how my words had come true, and hurried into the room, only to find the child quite senseless and cold.

I felt the child’s pulse, which was beating faintly, though his body was not warm and his neck was nearly stiff. I thought the disease might be congestion of the brain, as I had read a few books on medicine. So I called for some cold water, and put on to his head a piece of wet cloth, while, at the same time, I rubbed his neck and head vigorously for twenty minutes. It was only a short faint, and the child began to come to his senses. You can easily imagine how glad was his grandmother, who was almost beside herself with joy to see restored to life the child whom they had supposed to be dead. I told her to keep quiet and to continue rubbing till the child was perfectly well. This won for me no small respect from all present, and I was asked to stay for a long time to read the Scriptures. I, too, was glad to stay there over two months during the cold season, enjoying my reading. Besides reading the Scriptures, I often took walks among the hills and valleys and on these occasions many children, with the one I had saved, followed me in my walks quite as if they were my own children. I loved the children so much, or rather was so loved by them, that my only business besides my reading was to take them for walks.