To the left, after crossing the .highway, it runs
beside the sandy embankment of the Kaling chu to the
north, and then, sharply turning, it is hidden behind
the trees outside the garden wall of the Lu-kang seven
or eight hundred yards away. On its surface, immediately
to our left, are a few beggars’ huts, mere patched
rags of dirty cloth supported on sticks. We crossed
the road and were in the sacred territory at last. Immediately
on the farther side we passed the gate of the
Kun-de-ling Monastery with its woods and gardens and
a long rocky eminence crowned with a Chinese temple ;
at its foot a hundred cocks were scratching up the sacred
dust awaiting a purchaser. The mass of Potala now
hung above our heads, and between us and the western
gate there was only a straight stretch pf road bordered
on the one side by a little patch of barley and a small
orchard of willows, and on the right by the still waters
of a stagnant willow-edged pool. Over the willows rose
the mass of Chagpo-ri. Another two hundred yards, and
after a half-turn to the right round the end of the water,
we find facing us the western gate of Lhasa, or Pargo
Kaling. We left the gate on our left and at once began
the ascent of the neck of rock which joins the two hills.
There was a steep climb of about two hundred feet, and
then, with breath-taking suddenness, the panorama of
Lhasa burst upon the gaze.
As I have said, Lhasa would remain Lhasa were
it but a cluster of hovels on the sand. But the sheer
magnificence of the unexpected sight which met our
unprepared eyes was to us almost a thing incredible.
There is nothing missing from this splendid spectacle-8
architecture, forest trees, wide green places, rivers,
streams and mountains, all lie before one as one looks