Evening star., 1925-08-16
DAUGHTERS NOBLE LHAsA

PEELED several times to retrace our
steps. The trails that my young friend
had marked in the day We're difficult
to find by the dim light of the moon,
veiled in mist. When at last across
the stream we caught sight of the
village we each swallowed a granule
of strychnine TO act as whip on our
tired bodies, and then, nearly run
ming, we crossed the feared passage.
a dog gave a low. suppressed bark
A single dog, i'll that village where a
dozen or more of these good but
rather fierce animals wandered to and
fro all the night. 1t reminded me of
the Indian tales relating the nightly
flight of these sons of good family
who. in quest of the Supreme Deliv-
erance," abandon their home to take
TO the religious life of the sannyasin.
In order. we read, to make easier for
them the going out of the house. the
gods had lulled the men to sleep and
Silenced the dogs" So was it with
me, and smilingly l gave thanks to
the invisible friend who protected my
departure.
The sun had already risen and we
We're still climbing bravely when we
heard noise of voices above us. Men
were coming down the path. Then.
panic-stricken, Yongden and / threw
ourselves out of the path and rushed
as scared game through the thick
jungle, dominated by an only thought
to escape sight | found myself
without remembering by what way l
had come thereon an old stony land
slip. OF Yongden there was no trace
Anyhow, he had not gone far and
we met soon, but we did not dare to
proceed in broad daylight. Villagers
would be on their way TO Londre and
there tell about us. So we spent the
first day of our journey squatting un-
der the foliage. No water was on
that slope, and we made an early
experiment of the many fast days
that were to come.
x x
THREE days later, thinking our
traces really lost, we decided to
transform ourselves into Tibetan pill
grims, as we had planned. In the
depths of the forest we wore our Ii
betan robes, boots and hats, and
hung earrings that changed my looks
Then, as in another attempt of the
same kind l had cut my long plaits,
heightened my now too short ones
with jet black yak hair Ghe yak is
the long-haired Tibetan OK and in
order to match that color l darkened
my own brown hair, rubbing on a wet
stick of Chinese ink. l finished by
slight touch of a powder made with a
mixture of cocoa and crushed wooden
coal. Indeed, that makeup was
rather strange. But suppliers of the
atrical folk from whom l could have
obtained better preparations have not
yet opened branches in the Tibetan
wilds.
AS 1 have just told about Chinese
ink as hair dye, l may perhaps re-
late comic adventure about it.
Now and then / revived the color of
my hair, rubbing the ink stick on it,
and during that work my fingers got
their share of dye. 1t did not matter
much, for the personality of an old
beggarly mother that I had assumed
required to be as dirty as possible, and
I used to rub frequently my hands on
the smoky bottom of our marmite to
match the color of those of the coun-
try woman folk.
Still, one day l had begged in vii
lage, reciting prayers at the doors,
grims. A good housewife called
Yongden and me inside to eat, and
poured in our bowls curd and tsampa
flour made with roasted barley The
custom is to use ones fingers to mix
them. SO. forgetting all about the
hair and ink business, to which l had
attended few hours before, 1 dipped
my fingers in my bowls and began to
knead the flour.
But what is this? 1t becomes black,
dirty streaks appear and grow wider
on the milky meal. Oh, l see, The
dye on my fingers comes off. What
is to be done?
Yongden, who just cast a glance on
me, sees the catastrophe. Comic as it
is, the situation is nevertheless seri-
Gus. 1t could provoke embarrassing
questions-lead to the discovery of my
identity.
Eat quick" orders Yongden in a