TRANS-HIMALAYA.

Taranaki Herald, Volume LXI, Issue 144147, 17 July 1913, Page 4

TRANS-HI MALAYA.

DR. SVEN HEDIN’S EXPLORATIONS. Tho third volume of Hr. Sven Hedin’s account of his adventures and discoveries in Tibet has just readied us from the publishers, Messrs. -Macmillan and Co.. Ltd. It will be remembered by readers of tho earlier volumes that Dr. Hedin set out in August, 1906, to explore tlio sources of tho groat Indian rivers, the Indus, the Sutlej, and tho Brahmaputra, a region never previously penetrated by a European, nor even by an Asiatic of note. His second volume brought him safely to the • end of his perilous journey, but only a very brief description was given of the return after tracing tho Indus to its source at a height of 16,946 feet above sea level, tho goal of his ambition. In the volume under notice he amplifies this and also adds several chapters giving a succinct historical review of all the journeys of exploration which have touched the margin of the central chains of the Trans-Hima-laya, an immense mountain system which he crossed in no less than eight places in the course of the two years which this journey occupied. ’ In this manner, and by making very careful tracings of tho courses of the rivers and of the various mountain chains, together with exact records of heights, volumes of water in tho rivers, and other data, ho has been enabled to furnish geographers with an accurate map of that extraordinarily jumbled region and to locate the sources of the. great Indian rivers with an exactness never before attempted. The volume is of engrossing interest. Hr. Hedin makes no pretence of literary style. He has just recorded each day’s journey as it was accomplished and written down his thoughts as they occurred to him. Possibly the most remarkable thing about the journey, as it strikes tho ordinary reader, is that a man should have undertaken its hardships and dangers of his own free will and that when he was safely back in 'civilisation ho should look back with any longing to bo again among tho mountains. But if he makes no pretence to literary stylo there are passages which cannot be read without a thrill. Here is one describing his crossing of the Sutlej at Poo, almost at the end of his journey. The bridge has been destroyed and ho and his caravan have to he carried over suspended from a cable stretched across tho torrent. One of his men makes the passage first and is followed by a muki:

Now it is my- turn. “Tho earth vanishes: tho Gyallar horn sounds the summons to the feast of the Gods.” Deva Ram must think I am very heavy for he ties me up as fast as a dangerous criminal. I slip my legs into the loops of rope, and grasp the front check of the block firmly.' “Offl” I call out. “No. Sahib, not yet,” answers Deva Ram. “What more is wanting?” “The tackle will hold all right, there is no fear of it; but anyone who is not accustomed to see the river below him may become giddy, lose his senses, relax his hands, throw himself backwards, slip out of the loops, and fall head first into tho Langchen-Kamba.” , “1 shall not be giddy.” “Still, for safety’s sake, we will take a turn of the rope, or better two, round your body and the other ropes. There, now is all right. Now yon may- loose your hands, Sahib, without falling.” “’Off,” I cry more loudly than before. Deva Ram gives the signal, the block begins to glide, and I am suspended beyond the brink, and see the greyish billows of the river rolling beneath mo. It seems an ago. Why am I not already across? It is only 115 feet. Above on the heights is my old Tibet; down in the plains is India. My caravan is torn asunder. 1 myself am dangling between heaven and tho murderous Sutlej. I have explored this river and discovered its ultimate source. Surely the discovery demands a victim! 1 never entertained such great respect for this grand majestic river as at tliis moment, and suddenly I realised tho meaning of the chprten- pyramids and cairns of the Tibetans on banks and bridges, those cries for help against the uncontrollable powora of nature, and those prayers in stone to inexorable gods. My- eyes fall on the gigantic white cauldron in the abyss below. How magnificent, how ravishingly beautiful! Language has no words to describe it; no artist can depict this scene, tho dizzy bird’s-eye view cannot be reproduced on canvas. Only a model could give some notion of it. Only the droning of tho thiin- * derous water is heard, repeated every moment. It fills the narrow chasm, and I hover among a chaos of sound waves crossing one another from all sides.

I swing about at every jerk caused by the pull on the rope. Hallo! Only two yards to the edge of the stone pier. Beautiful land! As the cable has held so long surely it will not now split with an ominous crack. Pull away 1 Only a yard more. With a comfortable feeling of security I glide over the pier, and in a moment am freed from all bands and fetters. The rest of tho caravan arc safely transported, one of the men, who has braved all the dangers of trans-Hima-laya, and Tibet, and who was “the best servant' who ever accompanied me on my journeys through the wilds of Asia,” having to be blindfolded, for ho could not trust his head, and was very agitated when he landed on tho other side. In another chapter Dr/ Hedin describes how his favourite horse, overcome by fear when crossing a’ plank bridge ever .a narrow gorgo through .which tho Sutlej rushed, jumped into space, and turning a somersault struck tho water with his hack and was carried some seventy yards by the raging torrent, when ho began to swim and reached the bank. The author has a keen sense of humour too as is shown in his pen portrait ot tho Ohangtso of tho Totling ' monastery. Hero sits his Excellency, the Ohangtso on a divan behind a red lacquered table and a brass-bound box. He sits like a stern inflexible judge, and seems to bo waiting until the crmnnal is brought before hint. 1 thank I seo him now; his portrait ’ is indeluHy impressed on my memory. I feel that I am smiling at this ridi-

culous figure, this fat, sleek, and wrathful spirit-king in human form, who sits before me so arrogant and so puffed up like a bull-frog, ready to keep off any demons or Europeans from tho sacred balls of Tolling by his grim and awful countenance. The substratum of tho Changtso was concealed by tho table and chest, and tho rest of his sleek.body shone with fat and grease. He had a violet vest drawn over his shoulders, which left a pair of fat arms exposed ; a Chinese skull-cap surmounted his bullet-shaped head. His brows were knitted in deep wrinkles, and beneath his forelock his eyes flashed with ire. His nose was as round as a potato, and his lips were fleshy—what juicy curses could pour out of them! His cheeks were as full as those of a trumpeting angel, and beautified by thin grey whiskers, which had an indescribably comical effect in a country of beardless men. Yes, there ho sat, the Changtso, and X stood before him in Tibetan costume, but with folders on my nose, and felt at the moment farther from India than on the day I set out from Tokcbeu.” These brief extracts will suffice to show that tho book is not by any means a dry and formal record of the author’s journeyiugs. The matter-of-fact geographical records are indeed plentifully relieved with such incidents as we have quoted. It is, in fact, a book of the most absorbing interest and its perusal leaves one wondering how a man could endure all that Hr. Hedin passed through, and live to tell the tale.