The Mystery of the Kailash Trail - Chapter 3 - Part 1

Chapter 3: Part 1: The yaks that searched for spirits and demons in the rain

Below the Dirapuk Gompa, within the circle of makeshift tents and sheds, one could see the effect of the rainstorm that had swept the night. Some sheds had broken up, and some tents had fallen. The rocks had protected them. The hailstorm had not been as severe at Dirapuk as it had been near the Choku monastery. Norbu peered outside his tent and watched the sun claim the valley. Pilgrims and animals were yet to get out of their shelters. One and all, they were all awestruck by the force of the rainstorm.

Norbu said a silent prayer, and wondered if the rain had hit Shiquanhe or Darchen with the same force. He prayed for his parents, his sister and their shop and their animals. His yaks and the Mastiff had survived the night in the tent. He looked out at the empty valley. Nobody was moving. He came out of his tent and watched the trail from the pass to Tarboche, north to Choku, and northwards of Dirapuk to Drolma La Pass. The upper slopes on the Kang Renpoche were shining like a newly washed photograph in the sun. The rain clouds had gone. The snowy peak was beautiful, he thought.

He wondered about his parents at Darchen at their store. Nearly a hundred pilgrims or more would have sheltered in those sheds, and the yak herd would have been moved to a safe sheltered area. Norbu thought back to his native hamlet and hoped that the rainstorm had not destroyed the village. His family would not have any home to go back to. He wanted to return and purchase large farm plots and go in for vegetable farming. Not barley, he had decided. Barley farming was a total loss and under the mercy of the rain, the sun, the clouds, the weeds and the insects. He would go in for growing vegetables.

Norbu had seen the future. He had seen the demand for vegetables and food items on the pilgrim trails. These groups were ready to pay four to five times more than what his family would get selling vegetables in the local market. His parents could continue to manage the store at Darchen and he would raise money by taking the pilgrims on the kora and save enough money to go and buy large farm plots. These pilgrims were intelligent. Sometimes they talked to him and asked about him, his parents and his native village. Some pilgrims spoke to him about the world outside of Tibet. Some Han Chinese policemen spoke to him about the craze of growing vegetables inside cloth sheds. It protected the crop from clouds, rain, hail, chill and the sun.

He looked back inside the tent at his two yaks sitting peacefully. They knew that their resting time was precious. For once they would be up and about, they would be laden with luggage and goods and they would have to keep walking through the day. The luggage would not be taken off their backs even during lunch hours or when the pilgrims rested during the day. The Mastiff seemed very quiet, subdued and very different today. Norbu began to pull down the tent and started packing it up. He rolled the tent around the poles and tied it up with the fastening ropes. He had one yak for the tents and his own kit, while the other yak carried the backpacks and foodstuffs of the touring pilgrims.

The yaks watched him quietly. The same activity was going on at the other tents. Some yaks had gotten up and were moving around. The pilgrims had come out of their tents and instantly began taking photographs of the Kang Renpoche and everything that was happening at Dirapuk. The pilgrim guide came up to Norbu and the yak boys and handed them their breakfast kits of oatmeal, noodles, meat strips and potatoes. A good breakfast would be required after such a night. The pilgrim guide hugged Norbu in relief, at seeing him safe, and said, “We will wait here through the morning. We do not know what would be happening at the Drolma La Pass. The rains would be coming down the hill streams now, and there could be a flash flood anywhere. Let us wait and watch what happens. We could move at noon, if there is news from the Pass.”

Norbu nodded in agreement. It was better to be safe than to be caught in the sudden floods that would occur after such a cloudburst. He called out to another yak boy and got him to start cooking breakfast for all the helper boys and local porters. One of the monks had come out of Dirapuk Gompa and was walking around looking to see if everyone was safe. The yak boys and the porters bowed low in respect when the monk approached them. He came up to Norbu’s Mastiff and patted him on his head and waited for the dog to growl or snarl. The Mastiff did neither and merely whimpered.

The monk asked Norbu, “What’s wrong with this guy? I thought Mastiffs were more dangerous. Did he get frightened by the yaks in the tent, or by the rain, or by your cooking?” He pointed out to the hole that Norbu had dug inside the tent. The doused fire was still warm, having been fed yak dung cakes through the night. The yak boys laughed politely and one of the porters came up to the monk to seek blessings. They whispered to each other and walked away. Norbu looked at the Mastiff and wondered. What was wrong?

“Look!” shouted one of the yak boys, pointing towards the Choku monastery. The porter and the monk also looked at the direction and returned to where Norbu stood. They could see a monk from the Choku monastery and a old pilgrim guide walking towards Dirapuk. This was very rare, for a monk to walk from one monastery to another on a normal day, unless there was a festive occasion or there had been a disaster. Had something terrible occurred at the monastery? Norbu shivered, and prayed, looking up at Kang Renpoche. The Dirapuk monk also prayed silently.

The pilgrims had not noticed anything amiss. They did not know that it was unusual. They thought it was a regular happening. They started taking photographs of the monk from Choku and the old man accompanying him. Norbu and the Dirapuk monk started walking towards the lower trail to meet with the monk from Choku. Nobody followed them. The Dirapuk monk bowed and said, “Welcome, Brother. Before you say anything, I trust and pray to the Most Enlightened One that everyone is safe at the Choku monastery? I hope there has been no disaster.”

The old man replied, “Master, there has been no problem. I have with me, Brother Tameng, from the Choku Monastery. I am Dawa, and I am a pilgrim guide. I do not go around the entire kora nowadays, but escort the groups who come to Darchen and want to visit Choku especially to seek the blessings of the Dharmakaya Amitabha Buddha. We come in enquiry, for we wish to know about certain questions from events that happened in the night that went by in the rainstorm.”

The monk from Dirapuk answered, “Brother Tameng, welcome. You are also welcome, Old Man Dawa, for I know you well, from many years. This is Norbu, from Darchen and beyond. He takes the pilgrims on the kora. The yak boys are preparing some breakfast, and you can share some hot soup so that you can rest and speak. You look like you need some rest, and that you have been denied it throughout the night. Were you out in the open in the rain?”

Brother Tameng asked, for he was impatient, “I must ask the questions, my brother. I will also accept the soup with much gratitude, for we do need it. But let us sit here, so that we do not frighten those who should not be. Some strange events happened out near Choku during the night. We have come to enquire about it, for the beings that created the events, whether they were humans, animals, spirits or demons, we know not who, some of those beings walked down the trail from Dirapuk towards Choku. I want to know if the yak boys noticed anything wrong at night with the yaks or the dogs. Did the yaks get disturbed, and did the dogs bark or get frightened?”

Norbu shivered again. So did the monk from Dirapuk. They remembered their discussion about the strange behaviour of the Mastiff. It was so unlike the breed. Norbu thought about the night, and said, “Masters, and Old Man Dawa, for I too know you, there was indeed something strange that happened during the night. It was my two yaks. They were sleeping peacefully and were as disturbed as any living being could have been during such a stormy night. My Mastiff was sleeping close to me, and I was thankful for the warmth that it provided me. And then, suddenly, the yaks stood up, quietly, not grunting, inside the tent, and were wide-awake. I was worried that they would charge out into the rains and tried to get them to relax. They did not do so. They were very tense. They stood for about an hour, as though they sensed some strange spirits or demons outside the tent. Their tails were held high, and yet they did not grunt. Their breathing became very heavy and the smoke from their nostrils made it look like fog clouds had entered our tent. And then, suddenly, they sat down again and went to sleep. The Mastiff never barked at all.”