CHAPTER II.
RESIDENCE AT TASHILHUNPO.
We entered the monastery of Tashilhunpo by the little western gate, in front of which stand two chortens—one very large with a gilt spire, the other smaller but neatly constructed. I walked along the narrow lane, lined on either side by lofty buildings, with the measured steps and grave demeanour which all wearers of the sacred costume are supposed to have. The rays of the setting sun shone on the gilded spires of the houses and tombs in the monastery, and made a most enchanting picture.[1]
The minister, I learned from his head cook (Machen[2]), whom I now met, had gone to Dongtse, his native town, but he had left instructions that I be lodged in the Targod chyi-khang until his return.
Though the news of the absence of my friend Phendi Khang-sar somewhat damped my spirits, yet the pleasing thought of having been able for the second time to visit Tashilhunpo was a source of infinite gratification. The Machen opened the padlock which closed the great door of the house, and ushered me in with outstretched hands and greetings of "Pundib la, chyag-pheb nang," "Welcome, Mr. Pundit."[3]
The building was a three-storied one, the ground floor, adjoining which were two stables, being used as a godown. The rooms on the first floor were spacious and neat, but very cold on account of the
- ↑ "If the magnificence of the place was to be increased by any external cause, none could more superbly have adorned its numerous gilded canopies and turrets than the sun rising in full splendour directly opposite. It presented a view wonderfully beautiful and brilliant; the effect was little short of magic, and it made an impression which no time will ever efface from my mind."—Captain Samuel Turner, 'Embassy to the Court of the Teshu Lama,' 230
- ↑ This word is colloquially used to designate the cook of any dignitary or official.—(W. R.)
- ↑ Or rather, "Please walk in, Mr. Pundit."—(W. R.)
