lish-made muzzle-loading rifle, a
12-bore breech-loading shot-gun, some Eley's ammunition, and an English
gun-case. The reports of Russian arms found in Tibet have been very much
exaggerated. During the whole campaign we did not come across more than
thirty Russian Government rifles, and these were weapons that must have
drifted into Tibet from Mongolia, just as rifles of British pattern
found their way over the Indian frontier into Lhasa. Also it must be
remembered that the weapons locally made in Lhasa were of British
pattern, and manufactured by experts decoyed from a British factory.
Had these men been Russian subjects, we should have regarded their
presence in Lhasa as an unquestionable proof of Muscovite assistance.
Jealousy and suspicion make nations wilfully blind. Russia fully
believes that we are giving underhand assistance to the Japanese, and
many Englishmen, who are unbiassed in other questions, are ready to
believe, without the slightest proof, that Russia has been supplying
Tibet with arms and generals. We had been informed that large quantities
of Russian rifles had been introduced into the country, and it was
rumoured that the Tibetans were reserving these for the defence of Lhasa
itself. But it is hardly credible that they should have sent levies
against us armed with their obsolete matchlocks when they were well
supplied with weapons of a modern pattern. Russian intrigue was active
in Lhasa, but it had not gone so far as open armament.

At Nagartse we came across the great Yamdok or Palti Lake, along the
shores of which winds the road to Lhasa. Nagartse Jong is a striking old
keep, built on a bluff promontory of hill stretching out towards the
blue waters of the lake. In the distance we saw the crag-perched
monastery of Samding, where lives the mysterious Dorje Phagmo, the
incarnation of the goddess Tara.

The wild mountain scenery of the Yamdok Tso, the most romantic in Tibet,
has naturally inspired many legends. When Samding was threatened by the
Dzungarian invaders early in the eighteenth century, Dorje Phagmo
miraculously converted herself and all her attendant monks and nuns into
pigs. Serung Dandub, the Dzungarian chief, finding the monastery
deserted, said that he would not loot a place guarded only by swine,
whereupon Dorje Phagmo again metamorphosed herself and her satellites.
The terrified invaders prostrated themselves in awe before the goddess,
and presented the monastery with the most pr