CHAPTER XIII.

THE RÚHANG PASS.

HEIGHT OF THE PASS-THE YAK OR OX OF TIBET-ITS GRUNTINGA YAK'S SADDLE-KSOMO DE KÖRÖS-TIBETAN GRAMMARS AND DICTIONARIES-SUMMIT OF THE PASS-SUFFERING OF THE DANDI

WALLAHS.

THE next day's journey, from Lippe to Súgnam, would have been no joke even for an Alpine Clubsman. It is usually made in two days' journey; but by sending forward in advance, and having coolies from Labrang and Kanam ready for us half-way, we managed to accomplish it in one day of twelve hours' almost continuous work. The path went over the Rúhang or Roonang Pass, which is 14,354 feet high; and as Lippe and Súgnam are about 9000 feet high, that would give an ascent and descent of about 5300 feet each. But there are two considerable descents to be made on the way from Lippe to the summit of the pass, and a smaller descent before reaching Súgnam, so that the Rúhang Pass really involves an ascent of over 8000 feet, and a descent of the same number.

Here, for the first time, I saw and made use of the yak or wild ox of Tibet, the Bos grunniens, or grunting ox-the Bos poephagus and the Toípayos of Arrian.

It certainly is a magnificent animal, and one of the finest creatures of the bovine species. In the zoological gardens at Schönbrunn, near Vienna, there are some specimens of yaks from Siberia; but they are small, and are not to be compared with the great yak of the Himalaya, the back of which is more like an elephant's than anything else. The shortness of its legs takes away somewhat from its stature; and so does its thick covering of fine black and white hair, but that adds greatly to its beauty. Indeed it is the shaggy hair and savage eye of the yak which make its appearance so striking, for the head is not large, and the horns are poor. The tail is a splendid feature, and the white tails of yaks are valuable as articles of commerce. The zo-po, on which I often rode, is a hybrid between the yak and the female Bos indicus, or common Indian cow. It is considered more docile than the yak, and its appearance is often very beautiful. Curiously enough, when the yak and the zo-po are taken to the plains of India, or even to the Kúlú valley, which is over 3000 feet high, they die of liverdisease; and they can flourish only in cold snowy regions. I was not fortunate enough to see any of the wild yaks which are said to exist on the plains of the upper Sutlej in Chinese Tibet, and in some parts of Ladak. I heard, however, of their being shot, and that the way this was accomplished was by two holes in the ground, communicating with each other beneath, being prepared for the hunter in some place where these animals are likely to pass. If the wild yak is only wounded, it rushes, in its fury, to the hole from whence the shot came, on which the hunter raises his head and gun out of the other hole and fires again.

This rather ignoble game may go on for some time, and the yak is described as being in a frenzy of rage, trampling in the sides of the holes and tearing at them with its horns. Even the yaks of burden, which have been domesticated, or rather half domesticated, for generations, are exceedingly wild, and the only way they can be managed is by a rope attached by a ring through the nose. I had scarcely had time at Lippe to admire the yak which was brought for my use, than, the man in charge having dropped this rope, it made a furious charge at me; and I found afterwards that yaks invariably did this whenever they got a chance. I cannot say whether this was done because I was evidently a stranger, or because they regarded me as the cause of all their woes; but certainly, as we went up that terrible and apparently endless Rúhang Pass, with one man pulling at the yak's nose-ring in front, and another progging it behind with the iron shod of my alpenstock, the Bos grunniens had an uncommonly hard time of it, especially when he tried to stop; he did not keep grunting without good reason therefor ; and I could not help thinking that my Poephagus had been perfectly justified in his attempt to demolish me before starting.

If my reader wants to get an idea of the comfort of riding upon a yak, let him fasten two Prussian spiked helmets close together along the back of a great bull and seat himself between them. This is the nearest idea I can give of a yak's saddle, only it must be understood that the helmets are connected on each side by ribs of particularly hard wood. The sure-footedness and the steady though slow ascent of these animals up the most difficult passes are very remarkable. They

never rest upon a leg until they are sure they have got a fair footing for it; and, heavy as they appear, they will carry burdens up places which even the ponies and mules of the Alps would not attempt. There is a certain sense of safety in being on the back of a yak among these mountains, such as one has in riding on an elephant in a tiger-hunt; you feel that nothing but a very large rock, or the fall of half a mountain, or something of that kind, will make it lose its footing; but it does require some time for the physical man to get accustomed to its saddle, to its broad back, and to its deliberate motion when its rider is upon it and not in a position to be charged at.

way

So up I went on a yak along a most curious pathwhich slanted across the face of an immense slate precipice. From below it appeared impossible for any man or animal to pass along it, and sometimes I had to dismount, and even the saddle had to be taken off my bulky steed, in order that it might find room to pass. From the top of this precipice there was a descent of about 800 feet, and then a tremendous pull up to what I fancied was the top of the pass, but which was far from being anything of the kind. The path then ran along a ridge of slate at an elevation of about 13,000 feet, affording most splendid views both of the Morang Kailas and of the great mountains within the Lassa territory. After a gradual descent we came upon an alp or grassy slope, where we were met by people from Labrang and Kanam, all in their best attire, to conduct us the remainder of the way to Súgnam. These mountaineers, some of whom were rather goodlooking women, tendered their assistance rather as an act of hospitality than as a paid service; and the

money they were to receive could hardly compensate them for the labour of the journey. There is a Lama monastery at Kanam, in which the Hungarian Csomo de Körös lived for a long time when he commenced his studies of the Tibetan language and literature. It is well known now that the Maggyars are a Tartar race, and that their language is a Tartar language; but thirty years ago that was only beginning to appear, so Csomo de Körös wandered eastward in search of the congeners of his countrymen. At that time Central Asia was more open to Europeans than it has been of late years; so he came by way of Kaubul, and, on entering the inner Himálaya, found so many affinities between the Tibetan language and that of his countrymen, that he concluded he had discovered the original stem of the Maggyar race. Years were passed by him. at Kanam, and at the still more secluded monastery of Ringdom, where I found he was well remembered; and he made himself a master of the Lama religion and of the Tibetan language, besides preparing a number of manuscripts regarding the Tibetan literature. But this did not content him, for he was anxious to penetrate into Chinese Tibet as far as Lassa; and finding all his efforts to do so from Kunáwar were frustrated, he went down into India, and ascended the Himálaya again at Dárjiling, with the intention of penetrating into Tibet from that point in disguise. At Dárjiling, however, he died suddenly-whether from the effects of passing through the Terai, or from poison, or from what cause, no one can say, nor have I been able to learn what became of his manuscripts. I suppose nobody at Dárjiling knew anything about him; and Dr Stoliczka told me he had met some Hungarians who had come to