"The original scrolls brought from India to Nepaul, and from Nepaul to Thibet, relating to the life of Issa, are written in the Pali language and are actually in Lhassa; but a copy in our language--I mean the Thibetan--is in this convent."
"How is Issa looked upon in Thibet? Has he the repute of a saint?"
"The people are not even aware that he ever existed. Only the principal lamas, who know of him through having studied the scrolls in which his life is related, are familiar with his name; but, as his doctrine does not constitute a canonical part of Buddhism, and the worshippers of Issa do not recognize the authority of the Dalai-Lama, the prophet Issa--with many others like him--is not recognized in Thibet as one of the principal saints."
"Would you commit a sin in reciting your copy of the life of Issa to a stranger?" I asked him.
"That which belongs to God," he answered me, "belongs also to man. Our duty requires us to cheerfully devote ourselves to the propagation of His doctrine. Only, I do not, at present, know where that manuscript is. If you ever visit our gonpa again, I shall take pleasure in showing it to you."
At this moment two monks entered, and uttered to the chief lama a few words unintelligible to me.
"I am called to the sacrifices. Will you kindly excuse me?" said he to me, and with a salute, turned to the door and disappeared.
I could do no better than withdraw and lie down in the chamber which was assigned to me and where I spent the night.
In the evening of the next day I was again in Leh--thinking of how to get back to the convent. Two days later I sent, by a messenger, to the chief lama, as presents, a watch, an alarm clock, and a thermometer. At the same time I sent the message that before leaving Ladak I would probably return to the convent, in the hope that he would permit me to see the manuscript which had been the subject of our conversation. It was now my purpose to gain Kachmyr and return from there, some time later, to Himis. But fate made a different decision for me.
In passing a mountain, on a height of which is perched the gonpa of Piatak, my horse made a false step, throwing me to the ground so violently that my right leg was broken below the knee.