erto displayed by the Tibetans gave place to more advanced
tactics. The usual story got wind that the Tibetans were being led by
trained Russian Buriats. But there was no truth in it. The altered
conditions of the campaign, as we may call it, after it became necessary
to begin active operations, were due to the force of circumstances--the
arrival of stouter levies from the east, the great numerical superiority
of the enemy, and their strongly fortified positions.
The operations at Gyantse are fully dealt with in another chapter, and I
will conclude this account of the opposition to our advance with a
description of the attack on the Kangma post, the only attempt on the
part of the enemy to cut off our line of communications. Its complete
failure seems to have deterred the Tibetans from subsequent ventures of
the kind.
From Ralung, ten miles this side of the Karo la, two roads branch off to
India. The road leading to Kangma is the shortest route; the other road
makes a detour of thirty miles to include Gyantse. Ralung lies at the
apex of the triangle, as shown in this rough diagram. Gyantse and Kangma
form the two base angles.
[Illustration]
If it had been possible, a strong post would have been left at the Karo
la after the action of May 6. But our small force was barely sufficient
to garrison Gyantse, and we had to leave the alternative approach to
Kangma unguarded. An attack was expected there; the post was strongly
fortified, and garrisoned by two companies of the 23rd Pioneers, under
Captain Pearson.
The attack, which was made on June 7, was unexpectedly dramatic. We have
learnt that the Tibetan has courage, but in other respects he is still
an unknown quantity. In motive and action he is as mysterious and
unaccountable as his paradoxical associations would lead us to imagine.
In dealing with the Tibetans one must expect the unexpected. They will
try to achieve the impossible, and shut their eyes to the obvious. They
have a genius for doing the wrong thing at the wrong time. Their elan,
their dogged courage, their undoubted heroism, their occasional
acuteness, their more general imbecile folly and vacillation and
inability to grasp a situation, make it impossible to say what they will
do in any given circumstances. A few dozen men will hurl themselves
against hopeless odds, and die to a man fighting desperately; a handful
of impressed peasants will devote themselves to death in the defence of
a village, l
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