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Digital Archive of Toyo Bunko Rare Books
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The heart of a continent : vol.1 |
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the sun had set, came down from the snow above. We were
entering Ladak, an offshoot of Tibet, and the only redeeming
feature in the country was the picturesqueness of its monasteries,
perched high upon every prominent rock. As regards its
natural scenery, it would be difficult to find any more dreary-
looking country than Ladak. Its mountains, though lofty,
are not grand or rugged, but resemble a monotonous succession
of gigantic cinder-heaps. But the Buddhist monasteries, the
fluttering prayer-flags, the chortens, and the many other signs
of a religion almost totally unrepresented in India, gave the
country a charm which just relieved it from utter condemnation.
These signs of Buddhist life have many times before been
described, so I need only refer here to the long rows of what
appeared to be immense graves, overlaid with hundreds of
slabs, each engraved with the formula, "Om mane padme hum"
("Oh! the jewel of the lotus"), the talismanic prayer which
the devotees of this religion believe will produce more and more
beneficent results the oftener it is repeated; the many-coloured
flags fluttering in the breeze inscribed with the same magic
formula, and breathing with each new flutter one fresh prayer
to heaven; the dirty, yellow-clad monks, with their shaven
heads, their string of beads round their necks, and their prayer-
wheels reeling off a prayer with each successive revolution. All
these are well-known characteristics of Buddhist life, and require
only a passing reference here. I admired their picturesqueness
and wondered at the quaintness of such superstitions, but had
no time to study in detail the particular phase the Buddhist
religion has taken in this far-away corner of Tibet.
We travelled rapidly through the country, and on July 31
reached its principal place, Leh. In twenty days our party
had travelled just over four hundred miles, and crossed one
pass of eleven thousand and three of thirteen thousand feet—
all, however, very easy. On entering Leh I was met by old
Shukar Ali, the only Ladaki who had come across the Mustagh
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