its capriciousness of
Caliban's whim in Setebos:

'Let twenty pass, and stone the twenty-first,
Loving not, hating not, just choosing so.'

These Kham men were in our mounted infantry camp until the release of
the prisoners in Lhasa, and made themselves useful in many ways--loading
mules, carrying us over streams, fetching wood and water, and fodder for
our horses. They were fed and cared for, and probably never fared better
in their lives. When they had nothing to do, they would sit down in a
circle and discuss things resignedly--the English, no doubt, and their
ways, and their own distant country. Sometimes they would ask to go
home; their mothers and wives did not know if they were alive or dead.
But we had no guarantee that they would not fight us again. Now they
knew the disparity of their arms they might shrink from further
resistance, yet there was every chance that the Lamas would compel them
to fight. They became quite popular in the camp, these wild, long-haired
men, they were so good-humoured, gentle in manner, and ready to help.

I was sorry for these Tibetans. Their struggle was so hopeless. They
were brave and simple, and none of us bore the slightest vindictiveness
against them. Here was all the brutality of war, and none of the glory
and incentive. These men were of the same race as the people I had been
living amongst at Darjeeling--cheerful, jolly fellows--and I had seen
their crops ruined, their houses burnt and shelled, the dead lying about
the thresholds of what were their homes, and all for no fault of their
own--only because their leaders were politically impossible, which, of
course, the poor fellows did not know, and there was no one to tell
them. They thought our advance an act of unprovoked aggression, and they
were fighting for their homes.

Fortunately, however, this slaughter was beginning to put the fear of
God into them. We never saw a Tibetan within five miles who did not
carry a huge white flag. The second action at the Karo la was the end of
the Tibetan resistance. The fall of Gyantse Jong, which they thought
unassailable, seems to have broken their spirit altogether. At the Karo
la they had evidently no serious intention of holding the position, but
fought like men driven to the front against their will, with no
confidence or heart in the business at all. The friendly Bhutanese told
us that the Tibetans would not stand where they had once been defeated,
and that levies who