国立情報学研究所 - ディジタル・シルクロード・プロジェクト
『東洋文庫所蔵』貴重書デジタルアーカイブ

gold enough, and began to work a gold mine which had just then been discovered
by his minister. There, however, he came into conflict with a Muhammadan king of
Garlog (Turkestan), who claimed the mine for himself. In the ensuing war, Ye-shes-'od
became a prisoner of the king of Garlog, who said he would release him only on
condition that a ransom, consisting of solid gold of the size and shape of the captive
king's person, was paid. Gold was now collected all over Tibet, but when melted
and cast to form a statue, the gold fell short of the quantity that would be required
to make the king's head. The king of Garlog, who was not satisfied with the
amount of gold offered, threw Yse-hes 'od into a gloomy dungeon to make him more
miserable.

There he had an interview with the new king, Byang-chub-'od (the king of the
Tabo inscription) who had continued collecting gold for his uncle's release. Ye-shes-'od
advised his nephew not to use the gold for his own release, but for bringing an Indian
pandit to Tibet. He said : " I am now grown old, and am on the verge of the grave. In
none of my former births, I believe, did I die for the sake of Buddhism. This time let
me, therefore, be a martyr in the cause of my religion." Thus they parted, and Lha-
bla-ma-Ye-shes-'od died in prison.

Then we hear of another embassy of Tibetans to Vikramaśīla, who were almost
robbed of their gold on the journey, and a religious assembly at this Indian monastery
is described with its brilliant stars of wisdom and holiness who were all eclipsed by Atīśa.
As the Indian monks would not have allowed their master to leave the country, Atīśa
disguised his intention of going to Tibet by saying that he was going on a pilgrimage to
the eight places of Buddhist sanctity,¹ which pilgrimage took him to Nepal. He was
much honoured by the king of that country, called Ananta-kirti, and performed various
miracles and acts of piety on the journey. Thus he made all the robbers who wished to
assassinate him, dumb and motionless like statues, until he had passed by, and at times,
he lifted himself into the air a cubit above the saddle with a view to be distinguished
from the others. A smile was ever on his face and Sanskrit mantras were ever on his lips.
At a deserted camping ground, he saw three puppies left uncared for. He took them in
the folds of his robes, saying "Ah, poor little ones, I pity you," and resumed his journey.
The breed of these puppies, says the historian, is still to be seen at Rva-sgrengs in Tibet.

When the party entered Guge, they found one hundred horsemen all decorated
with white ornamental equipments, sent by King Byang-chub-'od. The escort carried
small flags and twenty white satin umbrellas. The band consisted of musical reeds, bag-
pipes, guitars, and other instruments. With sonorous and grave music, and uttering the
sacred mantra, Om maṇi padmē hūm, they approached the holy sage to offer him a
respectful welcome in the name of the king of Guge.²