Chapter XI
I trust my readers will pardon the liberties I have taken in digressing from the main text. This has seemed necessary in order to get before you, in as concise a way as possible, a few of the numerous and widespread places where records have been found that refer directly to the older civilizations, their arts and culture, as well as the determining thoughts and motives which have maintained civilizations in very high accomplishments.
A few groups still achieve these higher accomplishments. These groups do in a measure, through the presentation of these achievements, become a guiding beacon for the human race as it again marches on to another high point in civilization’s progress. It is still to be determined whether the mistakes of a few, accepted by the majority, can again overwhelm and carry the great bulk into oblivion for a great cycle of time.
It is our vision that the present holds all the future; nothing save the accomplishments of the present give form to the future. Thus humanity has but one road; if the present be made perfect, the future must be perfect. It is not the present perfection DELAYED to some future perfection, it is the conscious present perfection that brings forth the consciousness of the perfect future.
Wherever we go, we find a people that had, at one time, lived wholly in the present. The whole future was in complete accord with the attainments of the present, so the future could take no other direction. Thus the injunction, “Take no heed for the future.” All their precepts were, “Live true in the present and the future must be what the present has been.”
Their folklore, their songs, their prayers—even those written on wheels—portray this thought. The devil dance, in which the Tibetan participated so freely, was originated to frighten away the evil one who had destroyed their race concept or consciousness. Through use, it has degenerated into a mere ceremony to frighten away evil spirits. The people have become so engrossed in spirits that they have forgotten the all-inclusive spiritual.
This is not confined to just one race or one creed but to all races and creeds. The first dance portrayed beauty and purity so thoroughly enthroned that not even a suggestion of evil could dethrone it.
We also investigated the goblin tales from the “sea of sand” as the Gobi is called in China. In many places one hears strange voices: many times we have heard our own names called. We have heard the din made by great throngs of people which seemed to be close by. Often we heard a variety of musical instruments accompanying sweet voices in song. We have seen many mirages and heard the noises of shifting sands.
We are certain that the air strata at some distance above the desert are so clarified that, at certain times, when all conditions are in harmonious accord, they act as sounding boards which reflect the vibrations that have at one time gone out. In this way we believe medieval happenings are reproduced through the vibrations that were sent out. Thus the air strata become the sounding boards that pick up and reflect the vibrations just as they pick up and send out the vibrations of a mirage.
We became so engrossed in our work that time seemed to have wings. Working under the direction of the old Lama, we made copies and measured drawings of many of the tablets as well as of other records.
The morning of our departure dawned bright and clear. We had paid our respects to all in the palace of the Dalai Lama; yet the streets were jammed with people, so anxious were they to wish us
God speed. Everywhere hands were waving farewell or offering prayers for our safe conduct. A delegation preceded us for miles with prayer wheels on long poles, turning out prayers. Fifty accompanied us to Shigatze on the upper reaches of the Brahmaputra River. As we neared this, the second city in Tibet, the great Tashi-lunpo Lamasery, located a mile from the city, came into view. A delegation from this Lamasery met us three miles out and invited us to be the guests of the Lamasery during our stay. We were accorded a cordial welcome on every hand.
As we entered the Lamasery, we felt the calm and peace which pervaded its halls, as of a great presence. It was indeed an ideal place in which to rest before resuming our trek to Lake Dolma and Sansrawar. We were also anxious to inspect the records of this monastery. From there we wished to go on as rapidly as possible, as arrangements had been made to meet the Master Bhagavanzi at the Temple Poratat-sanga.
After the evening meal with the Lamas, we talked of the many beautiful temples. The conversation then drifted to the difference in religious beliefs. One very old Lama said: “The same beliefs are not shared by Lamas and Yogis. The Yogi cannot believe that the teaching of any one man can be final; he sees that every human being has access to all knowledge right within himself, while Lamas are adherents of Buddha alone. In all probability, each human being will unfold and realize his mightiness. A Christian will reach the Christ consciousness, a Buddhist will reach the Buddha attainment, and so on. All have their gods and on every hand one can hear that God made man in his image. All nations and all peoples have their different gods.
“Some have their god of fire, others the god of harvest, and so on. Each has a better God than his brother. How am I to understand that God made man in his image, unless from the many gods set up, I would say that each man has made God in his, man’s own image?”
We found six Lamas at the head of a group that were known as the wandering Lamas, who go hither and yon without purse or scrip. They never beg, ask alms, or accept food or money from any one.
They are always in touch with each other and with the six that are at the monastery. Of this order, there are three branches, with one at the head of each branch, making nine that are in charge. The three heads of the branches may be located in three different countries. Each of those who go out keeps in direct touch with the head of the branch he is working under; the head of the branch keeps in touch with the six. The method which they use for communication we call thought transference, for want of a better name, but we know it to be a force far more subtle and much more definite.
They call it Atma, soul conversing with soul, using no other medium. We met six of these Lamas and had lunch with them the next day.
The old Lama informed us that he would accompany us to the Pora-tat-sanga temple when our work was finished. We accepted his offer, as he was a friend of the Muni who was acting as our guide and interpreter. They both assisted us in every way with the records.
During a conversation, the old Lama casually remarked: “Two of your associates who left you last summer will arrive in Calcutta at one-thirty today; and, if you wish to communicate with them, you can do so.” Our Chief wrote a message instructing them to go directly to Darjeeling and look after a business matter which needed attention, and to await our arrival on August 24th. He dated the note, and made a copy of it, and handed the original to the Lama. The Lama read the note, folded the paper carefully, and put it away.
Our associates did meet us in Darjeeling on the 24th of August. They showed us a written message which was placed in their hands not twenty minutes after their arrival in Calcutta. They supposed the man was a messenger who had been sent ahead with the message. Now we had physical proof of the ability of some of these Lamas. If this ability could be extended in one direction, why not in all directions?
We were anxious to press on toward Pora-tat-sanga, as many would gather at the temple this season, a very favorable time for such a visit. We went by way of Gyantze and were told that we would find a very fine chela who was known to all as “the laughing chela.” His laughter and song carried him and his associates over many difficult places, healing many as he sang.
As we entered the courtyard of the Lamasery, a very fine upstanding fellow approached us with a hearty welcome, stating that they expected us to make the Lamasery our home during our stay in the village. We told him we were anxious to push on to the Phari Pass in the morning.
“Yes,” he replied, “we understand that you are on your way to Pora-tat-sanga. I return there in the morning and shall be pleased to go with you if it is your wish.”
We accepted and, with a hearty laugh, he conducted us to our quarters in the great hall of the Lamasery. After making us comfortable, he bade us good night and took his departure, saying he would meet us in the early morning. As he walked away he sang in a well-modulated voice. This was the laughing chela. We were awakened in the morning at an early hour by his singing announcement that our morning meal was ready.
We bade the Lamas goodbye, received their blessing, and found all in readiness for our departure on the journey to Phari Pass. This led us past the mountain peaks of Phari and Kang La. In all, it was an arduous climb, but at the rough places the chela went ahead with laughter and song. At the more difficult places, his voice would ring out and it seemed as though it lifted us over them without an effort. We arrived at the top of the Pass at three o’clock in the afternoon.
To our surprise, instead of rugged mountains, we found a beautiful valley stretching out before us. This valley is called Chubi. Although it is sixteen thousand feet above sea level, either side of the valley is skirted by fine forests whose heavy leafy trees were very luxuriant. Ahead of us we saw villages with beautiful temples. We did not go through the valley but took the shorter trail by way of Tachi-cho-jong, then on to Pora-tat-sanga. Even this trail proved good. We had proceeded but a short distance, when we entered a beautiful forest with small streams on every hand. Here we saw an abundance of song birds and wild fowl. We had not encountered a predatory wild animal on the entire trip; this probably accounted for the abundance of wild life.
Our next stopping-place was at Maha Muni. Its fortress-like temple intrigued us; and here, as always, we received a hearty welcome. Those in charge told us that it would be useless to ask us to remain longer, as the Master Puriji had preceded us to the Temple Pora-tat-sanga where many Yogis, Sadhus, and Gurus were gathering; and that we would have a goodly company on our last day’s journey.
Early the next morning, the pilgrims were assembled, anxious to be on their way to keep their tryst with the great Master Puriji. All were eager to get the first glimpse of Pora-tat-sanga—as they expressed it, a jewel set in a rock ledge, the most lofty of any temple in the world.
“Would we stay at Maha Muni when this great prize loomed just ahead of us?” sang the laughing chela. “Oh no. Fare thee well, Maha Muni, we love you and shall return to your tender embraces. To journey to Pora-tat-sanga is irresistible.” So the cavalcade moved on. The great Everest was before us, standing out in the light of approaching dawn, stark and white in its robe of pure crystal. It seemed to beckon us to take just a few steps more, reach out our hands, and touch the hem of its garment. Yet when we had taken the few steps, its mass still eluded us. Chomolhari, its near neighbor, twenty-four thousand feet high, which we had passed, now seemed a pigmy compared with the monster just before us.
We thought the trail on its flanks stony and perilous but now we labored over a trail much of the distance on hands and knees. Still, the song and laughter of the chela bore us onward as though on wings.
In our enthusiasm, we forgot the dangers. It seemed that we accomplished these places instantly. The sun, while it dispelled the illusion of touching mighty Everest in another stride, revealed grandeurs of which description in words would only become a travesty. There were towers and great temples of nature crowned with crystal on every hand; but Everest, Great Everest, lay before us.
We saw it in the moonlight, with the first light of budding dawn, as the first rays of sunrise kissed its fair brow; then with the full rays of the noonday sun streaming down upon it; and again as the sun gradually faded and bade it goodnight, with the last rays bathing it in glory, the afterglow raising an answering glow toward heaven upon its great crest.
Can you, dear reader, not see why the trail that days was not long and arduous? It all passed in an instant. The vibrations of strength, peace, power, and harmony that are always sent forth from the temples but serve to urge travelers on to these peaks. Do you wonder that the Himalayas engender no fear in man? Do you wonder that poets never tire of singing their grandeur?
Finally, at nightfall the trails were all conquered and we stood gasping on a flat table-like rock of considerable extent.
In the distance before us were many temples but the jewel Pora-tat-sanga stood out two thousand feet above us, bathed in dazzling light. It seemed like a great arc lamp sitting in a crevice in the perpendicular rock wall; its light lighting up the rocks and temples all about us. Here, in the amphitheater on the rock where we stood, was a great concourse of men and women. To our surprise we found that women were not barred from this pilgrimage; all who would, could come.
Here great Rishis have lived. Along this trail the Rishi Niri had passed. Thrice, the five brothers had passed over this trail, once alone, once with their great mother, and again with the great and good Darupati, the pride and grandeur of all womanhood. Here now sits Yogi Santi, the great, the pure, but the humble one in deep Samadhi.
“Where can all these great ones find shelter and food?” we suggested.
“Do not worry about food or shelter,” sang the laughing chela. “There is an abundance here of food, shelter, and clothing for all.”
“Sit down, every one,” came in sweetest tones through the voice of the chela. No sooner were all seated than great bowls of nourishing hot food appeared. The Yogi Santi arose and began passing the food around, assisted by the chela and others. When their hunger was appeased, all arose and were conducted in groups to the neighboring temples, there to pass the night. The temple to which we were conducted by the chela was upon a perpendicular, table-like ledge, about seventy-five feet above where we and the others were standing. As we approached, we noticed a long pole with its base resting upon the rock where we stood, its top resting on the shelf-like rock above. As it seemed to be the only means of communication, we gathered at its base and looked up. As we stood thus, other groups joined us.
There were a number of other temples built in the niches formed by other ledges just above the first shelf. For a moment our only hope of shelter for the night seemed to depend upon our ability to negotiate this pole. Then the chela said, “Don’t hurry.” Through his voice came a great burst of song. “O loved one, through you we look for shelter this blessed night.”
Instantly every one around stood silent for a moment. As with one voice, they spoke forth these words with dynamic power, “Such is the God power, A-U-M”; instantly all were standing on the rock ledge and we, with the rest, proceeded to our respective temples. When we arrived at the temples assigned to us, every trace of fatigue had left. We slept like babes that night. The emanations of power sent out by that group would have leveled mountains had it been so directed.
