The Collected Works of Chogyam Trungpa: Volume One (42 page)

By this time there was little else but leather to eat; people’s health was becoming affected and symptoms of illness were beginning to show. I was much concerned and tried to think if there was any way to obtain further supplies. There was a possibility that we might approach the villagers in some remote spot and find out if the Chinese were in control of their whole area or if there was any chance of buying some food; there was always the danger that one of the villagers might act as a spy. I put the suggestion to the senior members of our party; some of them thought that we might try, others considered the risk too great. Everyone more or less agreed, however, that we must first get across the river.

Making eight coracles took two days; we set off at nightfall. By now there was little baggage left and whatever remained was taken over by others to enable three men to be allotted to carry each coracle. I warned everyone that we would now be going through villages; we must take the greatest care and make no noise, with everybody walking in single file. In spite of all these difficulties the whole party kept up their spirits; they were really excited at the prospect before them. I led the file with Tsepa, who proved of the greatest help. Though he did not actually know this part of the country, he was familiar with the general layout of villages and of the tracks joining them; there was no way of avoiding these, and though we saw lights in the houses, we met no one. As we made our way down these minor paths the coracles had to be carried aloft and were apt to scrape against the hedges making a crackling noise; it was also difficult to keep the babies quiet, which added to our anxieties. The distance proved longer than we had expected, so there was not sufficient time, that night, to attempt the crossing, find somewhere on the farther side where to hide, and dispose of the coracles. I, with Tsepa, Ugyen Tendzin, Yönten, and several others carrying one coracle decided to take a path which led up the mountainside again. We waited and waited for the rest of the party who had lagged behind, but no one appeared. We therefore went on uphill until we reached a place where we could hide our coracle among the holly trees and lie down ourselves. But sleep was impossible for me; I kept wondering why the rest of the party was lagging behind. At the first light of day we heard someone walking on the dry leaves; the sound came nearer and nearer. Tsepa had his gun ready; I jumped on him and said that there was to be no shooting. He asked me to make no noise. The footsteps came on and a man hove in sight; it turned out to be a messenger from our own party. He was delighted to have found us but said that he had also hoped to find two others of our men who were carrying a coracle, as they were not among the rest of the refugees who, having lost contact with us the night before, had found a hiding place in a holly thicket lower down the slope. His report on the way that some of the other people in the camp were behaving worried me greatly, for he told me that they had lighted fires and were not keeping sufficiently quiet. I sent him back with a message that rules had been laid down to save the lives of three hundred people and must be strictly adhered to. He was to tell everyone that as soon as it was dark we would join them and they must all be ready to start for the crossing.

From our hollow we could not see very far and did not know if there were any houses near, but as the sun came up it looked as if we had found a good hiding place. However, we could not discover any water in the vicinity and all felt very thirsty, so Tsepa decided to go down to the lower camp to fetch some; there would be no difficulty on the way as there was plenty of cover between the two camps. He suggested that he might visit some of the villages pretending to be a local man, since he wore the clothes of the district, but I told him that this might lead to danger. While he was away Ugyen Tendzin and I took field glasses and walked up the mountain to see how the land lay. We were at the end of the range and could see both banks of the Brahmaputra and the country on either side of it. At one point the river was fairly narrow but we would have to pass near a number of villages to reach it; we could see whitewashed temples flying red flags, and these were also to be seen over most of the houses. A backwater ran beside the farther bank of the river downstream from the likely crossing place, with a narrow strip of dry ground between it and the main channel which, being wooded, could afford adequate cover; at the end of the backwater there appeared to be a dry passage onto the mainland. The ground here was level for about a quarter of a mile and then sloped uphill toward another range of mountains. The track led through a village some two miles away on the lower slope of the mountains; here too, red flags were flying on the houses and a very large one was displayed on a white temple building. There were fields all around where herdsmen were tending their flocks. Taking everything into consideration we still thought that our best plan would be to cross the river at the narrow part, walk along the strip between it and the backwater, and go out by the end passage. We would have to risk going through the village just beyond.

In the afternoon we were feeling very depressed, the sun was hot and we were longing for something to drink. About four o’clock a black mass of crows started to wheel over us; their shadows fell across the mountain as the sun was sinking and their raucous caws sounded very sinister. We went back to our small party in the hollow and found that Tsepa had brought some water. He told us that a few of the refugees from the lower camp had gone out on their own to try to buy food and the villagers had told them that they had seen two men in chains whom the Chinese had arrested alleging that they had stolen a bullock: These must have been the men of our party who had disappeared with the coracles. The local people had realized that the men asking to buy food were trying to escape and they had no intention of getting involved beyond receiving payment for their supplies; however they gave the information that at this time of year all the passes on the farther side of the Brahmaputra would be blocked by snow.

There was no other solution for us but to go on. We waited till dark and then went down to the lower camp. I had given strict orders that everyone was to be ready to start, but when we reached the camp I found that they had not finished packing up and told them they must hurry. As they were getting their baggage together my attendant found that a small bag of tsampa which had been kept for me had disappeared; his suspicion fell on a boy and losing his temper he started to chase him. Others tried to stop my attendant, unfortunately this angered him still more; everyone began to shout and to argue; the whole camp was in an uproar which further delayed the packing. I spoke very severely, for I saw that everyone was on the verge of hysteria. Catching my attendant by the arm I told him to control himself and explained that this was the most critical moment in our escape; every minute was valuable. The man was still agitated, but when he saw how very gravely I was looking at him, he calmed down and tried to explain that the boy had stolen my tsampa; I said, “I don’t think that he has done so, but in any case, let him have it. At this time we all need strength, and I hope if he has taken the food that it will help him to work all the harder. What I am mostly concerned and distressed about is to hear that someone in the camp stole a bullock and that two innocent men are suffering for their crime.”

The Wheel of Truth
.

Across the Himalaya

W
E WERE NOW READY
to start; it was the night of the full moon on December 15. Akong Tulku was carrying a very heavy load on his back and I asked him if he could really take so much, adding cheerfully, “It might end in your collapse.” Laughingly, he replied, “This is the decisive night and I can do it; please remember that I am tougher than you.” When we reached the level ground we could hear voices in the neighboring village and dogs barking in the far distance; however, we got as far as the sandy approaches to the river and everyone was hopeful. I went from group to group to encourage those in the rear to move more quickly and as I was walking between them I saw a man in Kongpo dress in front of me behind a thorn bush; as I looked at him he disappeared, but soon afterward I saw another man in the same costume who was carrying a rifle; I thought he might be Chinese as he had a very light skin. He too disappeared. I noticed that some groups of stragglers were going in the wrong direction so I had to rush after them to bring them back. At last my group reached the river and were the first to embark; eight of us got into one coracle with Ugyen Tendzin to paddle, followed closely by a second group. The full moon was just rising. It took some time to get across, though Ugyen Tendzin went as quickly as possible, and as soon as we disembarked he was ready to take the coracle back to fetch another lot of passengers. I heard a shout from the river from the man who was paddling another coracle; he was calling me by name and saying that he was unable to get across and they would all be drowned. I told him not to panic, it would be all right and he carried on and landed his party. As I walked up and down the bank talking to the three groups who had arrived, I suddenly heard gunfire. At first I thought it must have come from one of our party; then a second shot was fired and I could hear shrill shouts from Chinese voices. The firing became continuous and bullets came whizzing above us. Some of the remaining refugees jumped into coracles and were able to get across. The firing still went on, becoming even heavier. Altogether about fifty people reached our side and we rushed up the strip between the river and the backwater, expecting to find the dry passage at the end of the water, but no one could locate it. Since the Chinese were evidently in force on the other side, we expected that there would also be some of them here, so all heavy baggage, such as bags containing coins and jewelry, was thrown into the water. Being unable to find the passage, we tried to wade across the backwater, but found it too deep, so some of the men went back to the riverbank to fetch the two coracles. These were now waterlogged and consequently very heavy and it took time to bring them. The men arrived at last and a few of us were paddled across. Everyone wanted to jump into the two coracles at once, so some had to be ordered to wait for the return journey, till finally all got across.

By this time it was near sunrise; many of the fugitives began to panic and rushed off on their own without waiting for me or anyone else to instruct them. Tsepa and his wife, Akong Tulku, Yak Tulku, Tsethar, Yak Tulku’s and my attendants were the only ones near me and we started southward toward the mountains. Yönten was still paddling people across the backwater, so I did not see him. Tsethar lost his temper and accused me of trying to save too many people. He said that our best plan would be to try and find a hiding place nearby; we could then go down the strip again and try to collect some of the baggage that we had left on the bank of the river, for the firing had now died down. I begged him not to attempt it, for we had already climbed some way up toward a village. However he was determined to go and said that he would return with Yönten. I told him that we intended to walk up the mountain until we found a suitable place where we would hide. Akong Tulku’s younger brother and a nun joined us; we were all utterly exhausted, having eaten hardly anything and the climb took a long time; to add to our discomfort, our clothes, which had been soaked through when we tried to wade across the backwater, began to freeze on us. As light broke in the sky we could see the village in front of us. There were people on the balconies of the houses, some of whom looked like Chinese, and in the surrounding fields herdsmen were taking their animals out to the grazing grounds. But there seemed no better way than to creep through the village between the hedges and we succeeded in doing this without mishap. Beyond, a winding path led over a bare strip of chalky ground on which our dark clothing would be very visible and a herdsman who was driving his animals behind us seemed to be looking at us, but we took no further notice and simply went on in the same direction. From the higher ground we could see everything that was going on in the village and beyond it we had a good view of the river: A lot of people were still gathered beside the northern bank and had lighted fires. However, we pressed on and a little farther up the slope found ourselves in a belt of holly trees; knowing that if we went higher we would come to more open ground we decided to stay under cover of the trees, for we were all very nearly at the end of our strength. The mountain faced north; no sun shone on it and it was bitterly cold; our frozen clothes clung to us. Throughout the day we heard firing and saw people walking about in all directions; it was obvious that the Chinese were looking for us, we could hear their steps coming nearer and nearer and then dying away again as they altered their course. From the village, there were no sounds of cheerfulness and the herdsmen instead of singing as they took their animals out now merely shouted at their herds. There were intermittent sounds of firing from below, and of blasting where the new road was being made. In our hiding place among the holly trees we still had to be very careful, for the dry leaves on the ground crackled whenever we moved; we tried several times to open our food pack, but each time we had to abandon the attempt because of a sound of footsteps and the thumps of a rifle being used as a walking stick. Akong Tulku’s baggage had had to be jettisoned, so I teasingly told him that I, being more modest, had been able to bring along mine. My attendant suggested that it was now the time to practice the yoga of “inner heat” (known as
tummo
in Tibetan), but Yak Tulku retorted that sitting down on the crackling holly leaves in order to take the cross-legged position required for this yoga would make too much noise, not to mention the sound of the accompanying breathing exercises. I had to laugh and Tsepa whispered, “Hush! You must all keep quiet, someone is coming.” I whispered back, “Perhaps this time, it is the spirits who are coming to protect us.” This bantering helped us to relax.