In the forbidden land, an account of a journey into Tibet . and hisqueer pointed hat, sat on a magnificent pony a little infront of the crowd of Lamas and soldiers. Curiously enough, when close to this new crowd, thehorseman who led my pony let go the rope, and the ponywas lashed cruelly and left to its own devices. The sol-diers of my guard reined up and drew aside. The ponydashed off in the direction of the Pombo, and as I passedclose to him a man named Nerba (private secretary ofthe Tokchim Tarjum) knelt down, and, taking aim withhis matchlock resting on its prop, deliberately fired a shota
In the forbidden land, an account of a journey into Tibet . and hisqueer pointed hat, sat on a magnificent pony a little infront of the crowd of Lamas and soldiers. Curiously enough, when close to this new crowd, thehorseman who led my pony let go the rope, and the ponywas lashed cruelly and left to its own devices. The sol-diers of my guard reined up and drew aside. The ponydashed off in the direction of the Pombo, and as I passedclose to him a man named Nerba (private secretary ofthe Tokchim Tarjum) knelt down, and, taking aim withhis matchlock resting on its prop, deliberately fired a shotat me. Although (I learned afterwards) this Nerba was one of 132 A NARROW ESCAPE the champion shots in the country, and the distance fromthe muzzle of his matchlock to me not more than fouryards, the bullet missed me, whizzing past my left the speed at which my animal was proceedingsaved me, as the marksman could not take a very steadyaim; but my pony, startled at the sudden report of thematchlock at such close quarters, took fright, and began. NERBA FIRING AT ME rearing and plunging. I managed to maintain my seat,though the spikes in the saddle were lacerating the lowerpart of my spine terribly. Several horsemen now rode up and captured my pony,and preparations were made for another exciting numberin the programme of my tortures. In their way thesenoble Lamas were of a sporting nature, but I swore tomyself that, no matter what they did to me, I would notgive them the satisfaction of seeing that they were hurt-ing me. Acting on this principle, I pretended not to feel 133 IN THE FORBIDDEN LAND the effect of the spikes tearing the flesh off my backbone;and when they led me before the Pombo to show him howcovered with blood I was, I expressed satisfaction at rid-ing such an excellent pony. This seemed to puzzlethem. A cord of yaks hair, about forty or fifty yards long, wasnow produced, the swivel attached to one end of-it fast-ened to my handcuffs, and the other end he
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