This book documents the extraordinarily complex pattern of trade upon which the pre-Independence economy of Ladakh largely depended. Although the trans-Himalayan traffic in subsistence commodities in other parts of the Himalaya has been researched, that in Ladakh has until now remained almost entirely undocumented. The book is based mainly on oral evidence; this is related to documentary sources ranging from the seventeenth to the twentieth century. This intriguing account of Ladakhi trade is spiced with enough personal details of the traders at all levels, to demonstrate that trade' is something more than a matter of routes and commodities, prices and rates of profit; it is an activity carried out by real human beings, profoundly colouring their entire way of life.
My long journey backwards and forward over the Trans-Himalaya cannot be regarded as more that a cursory and defective reconnaissance of a country hitherto unknown. It is easier to go to Lhasa with a force armed to the teeth, and shoot down the Tibetans like pheasants if they stand in the way, than to cross Tibet in all direction for two long years with four governments and all the authorities of the land as opponents, twelve poor Ladakis as companions, and not a single man as escort. It is no merit of mine that I was long able to maintain a position which from the first seemed untenable. The same lucky star looked down, as often before, on my lonely course through vast Asia, since I first took up my pilgrim staff. Go, then, out into the world thou ringing and sonorous name for one of the world s mightiest mountain systems, and find thy way into geograp hical text-books and remind children in the schools of the snow-crowned summits on the Roof of the World, among which the monsoon storms have sung their deafening chorus since the beginning. As long as I live, my proudest memories-like royal eagles, will soar round the cold desolate crags of the Trans-Himalaya.
One of the most important travel books ever written is the story of Dr. Sven Hedin's discoveries and adventures in Tibet, which he has brought out in two volumes under the general title "Trans-Himalaya." Besides being a closely woven, carefully prepared account of the achievements of a scientific explorer, geographer, and ethnologist, this work is an entertainingly told story of startling experiences, exciting adventures, and really remarkable achievements in the field of exploration. The expedition of this Swedish explorer started in August, 1906, entering the Forbidden Land from the northwest. He thoroughly explored the country, penetrating with the aid of his thirty-seven Asiatic followers into sections in which not only had no Western man ever trodden, but in which the existence, even, of Europe was unknown. Dr. Hedin's description of his meeting with the Tashi Lama shows that head of the Buddhist church to be not a divinity in human form but a man who in kindness of heart, innocence, and purity approaches as near as possible to perfection. This is volume two out of two.
This extraordinary travelogue takes readers on a two-year trek across the highest points of the world with Nepalese traders as they repeat the ancient journeys of their ancestors--crossing more than a thousand miles by foot. 130 full-color illustrations and 30 b&w drawings.
One of the most important travel books ever written is the story of Dr. Sven Hedin's discoveries and adventures in Tibet, which he has brought out in two volumes under the general title "Trans-Himalaya." Besides being a closely woven, carefully prepared account of the achievements of a scientific explorer, geographer, and ethnologist, this work is an entertainingly told story of startling experiences, exciting adventures, and really remarkable achievements in the field of exploration. The expedition of this Swedish explorer started in August, 1906, entering the Forbidden Land from the northwest. He thoroughly explored the country, penetrating with the aid of his thirty-seven Asiatic followers into sections in which not only had no Western man ever trodden, but in which the existence, even, of Europe was unknown. Dr. Hedin's description of his meeting with the Tashi Lama shows that head of the Buddhist church to be not a divinity in human form but a man who in kindness of heart, innocence, and purity approaches as near as possible to perfection. This is volume one out of two.
In the spring of the year 1905 my mind was much occupied with thoughts of a new journey to Tibet. Three years had passed since my return to my own country; my study began to be too small for me; at eventide, when all around was quiet, I seemed to hear in the sough of the wind a voice admonishing me to “come back again to the silence of the wilderness”; and when I awoke in the morning I involuntarily listened for caravan bells outside. So the time passed till my plans were ripened and my fate was soon decided; I must return to the freedom of the desert and hie away to the broad plains between the snow-clad mountains of Tibet. Not to listen to this secret voice when it speaks strongly and clearly means deterioration and ruin; one must resign oneself to the guidance of this invisible hand, have faith in its divine origin and in oneself, and submit to the gnawing pain which another departure from home, for so long a time and with the future uncertain, brings with it. In the concluding lines of my scientific work on the results of my former journey (Scientific Results) I spoke of the impossibility of giving a complete description of the internal structure of Tibet, its mountains and valleys, its rivers and lakes, while so large a part of the country was still quite unknown. “Under these circumstances,” I said (vol. iv. p. 608), “I prefer to postpone the completion of such a monograph till my return from the journey on which I am about to start.” Instead of losing myself in conjectures or arriving at confused results owing to lack of material, I would rather see with my own eyes the unknown districts in the midst of northern Tibet, and, above all, visit the extensive areas of entirely unexplored country which stretches to the north of the upper Brahmaputra and has not been traversed by Europeans or Indian pundits. Thus much was à priori certain, that this region presented the grandest problems which remained still unsolved in the physical geography of Asia. There must exist one or more mountain systems running parallel with the Himalayas and the Karakorum range; there must be found peaks and ridges on which the eye of the explorer had never lighted; turquoise-blue salt lakes in valleys and hollows reflect the restless passage of the monsoon clouds north-eastwards, and from their southern margins voluminous rivers must flow down, sometimes turbulent, sometimes smooth. There, no doubt, were nomad tribes, who left their winter pastures in spring, and during the summer wandered about on the higher plains when the new grass had sprung up from the poor soil. But whether a settled population dwelt there, whether there were monasteries, where a lama, punctual as the sun, gave the daily summons to prayer from the roof by blowing through a shell,—that no one knew. Tibetan literature, old and recent, was searched in vain for information; nothing could be found but fanciful conjectures about the existence of a mighty chain, which were of no value as they did not accord with the reality and were not based on any actual facts. On the other hand, a few travellers had skirted the unknown country on the north and south, east and west, myself among the number. Looking at a map, which shows the routes of travellers in Tibet, one might almost suppose that we had purposely avoided the great white patch bearing on the recently published English map only the word “Unexplored.” Hence it might be concluded that it would be no easy feat to cross this tract, or otherwise some one would ere now have strayed into it. In my book Central Asia and Tibet I have fully described the desperate attempts I made in the autumn and winter of 1901 to advance southwards from my route between the Zilling-tso and the Pangong-tso. One of my aims was to find an opportunity of visiting one or more of the great lakes in Central Tibet which the Indian pundit, Nain Sing, discovered in 1874, and which since then had never been seen except by the natives. During my former journey I had dreamt of discovering the source of the Indus, but it was not then my good fortune to reach it. This mysterious spot had never been inserted in its proper place on the map of Asia—but it must exist somewhere. Since the day when the great Macedonian Alexander (in the year 326 B.C.) crossed the mighty stream with his victorious host, the question of the situation of this spot has always stood in the order of the day of geographical exploration.
