Our faithful Ladakis had intended to go with us to the most distant parts. In Khotan they soon became somewhat depressed. They wandered through the bazaars; they complained that the people pulled their braids; they grieved because of the Chinese officials. They assured us that the Chinese Taotai would order them beaten. They said that the Taotai himself had killed a man. At last the whole sack-garbed crowd of Ladakis came; they smiled, they shifted about, they crowded close to one another, they repeated what goodyum-kusho   (mistress) and   yab-kusho   (great gentleman), we were; and finally with tears they begged us to let them go home. They hinted that if we would go further on our way at once they would remain with us, but that in Khotan it was impossible to live. They left us very touchingly, hurrying through the snowy passes. Although it was only the beginning of November they were held back in Sanju where the crossing had become impassable. We then appreciated the advice we had had, to start as early as possible, because just after our passage, there started a continuous blizzard and the severest frosts.

We did not even consider their statement that it was impossible to live in Khotan; but soon we were convinced that our simple friends, who had valiantly gone through all the skeletons of Karakorum, had become saddened in Khotan, not without cause.

The strangest symptoms began. Not only did they not want to give us a suitable house, but they assured us that we would have to live at the bazaar where it would be more convenient for the Taotai to   watch   us. When we ourselves made an effort to find a suitable house in the outskirts, there was a mass of obstacles which we had to overcome fearlessly ourselves. Our well-wisher, Kudai Berdi Bai, and the Afghanistan Aksakal helped us greatly to procure the house, but the Amban permitted us to make an agreement only   for one month.   He signified through this that we were undesirable tenants, yet neither would he permit us to leave. The permission to sketch was   not   given. A repulsive Bek was stationed to watch us. Finally there came a new Amban and the affair became still more complicated.

The Taotai’s child became ill. They asked E.I. to come and help. The cure was successful and all three officials came seemingly to thank us. But their conduct was outrageous. They laughed, gesticulated, spat and said that our passport was altogether   unauthentic.   They proposed to insult Mr. Cheng-lo (the Chinese Ambassador in Paris) for giving out such a passport. Everything, verily, assumed ugly proportions. But these were flowers—the berries appeared the next day.

The Amban came and said that a telegram had been received from Urumchi, from the governor of the province, with the demand to expel our Expedition, and precisely through Sanju. This meant a return through a path closed by snow in winter.

Of course we were already accustomed to the hypocrisy of the officials of Khotan, and we did not doubt that there was no telegram and that the whole story was a fraud. “However,” added the tempestuous Amban, “if you will personally ask Mr. Taotai maybe he will show some clemency.” One should note that the officials did not permit any of our telegrams to pass, and we had to search for an opportunity to send telegrams to New York, Peking and Paris, by roundabout ways through the consulate in Kashgar. Besides this, the Amban pointed out that the officials had the complete right to take away all my artist’s equipment.

The next day the Taotai changed his anger into clemency. And   on account   of the cure of his son by E.I., he notified us that he would not expel us by way of Sanju. But his clemency, because of the cure of his son, quickly evaporated and the officials threatened to search our house. Finally on December 29th the search took place. Our arms, three guns and three revolvers, were sealed and taken away. They said that in Kashgar we might receive them back. The permits from the British officials to carry arms were not even taken into consideration. When the enormous case was brought into the room for the packing of the arms, even the Chinese stepped back, murmuring “a coffin.” E.I. added “This is the coffin of such type of officials.” It would seem that the inventions of oppression were already exhausted, but ignorance prompted one more “game.” They notified us that our American papers did not interest officials and demanded pre-war passports. With this, the “wise” officials of Republican China demanded nothing less than the old imperial passports. Quite accidentally we had with us an old passport and the Certificate of the Swedish Order of the Northern Star. The “buffalos” copied this and the other one, and pretended to send it somewhere.

The demand for a pre-war passport after nine years of Chinese revolution showed us that the officials of Khotan are not only ill-qualified, but that they are limitlessly ignorant; and to remain here would be even dangerous. We plan to go immediately to Kashgar and Urumchi in order to find a more sensible administration. My dear friends, if you want to try out your cold-bloodedness and patience, go to the city of Khotan. Here Taotai Ma, and Amban Chang Fu, will teach you with all their medieval resourcefulness. Before our departure, we heard a rumor in the bazaar that serious trouble was brewing for the Taotai. It is rumored that he received the position of the Taotai and the star from the governor of the province, for the murder which he himself executed of the military governor of Kashgar last year; however, it is revealed that the murder was accomplished not by him alone but also by the soldiers. Now one may believe that all murderers must become Taotais.

The details of the murder are medieval. The captured man was crucified and after two days of crucifixion the present commander of Khotan shot at him at such close range that the blood spurted upon the victor. At the same time his soldiers were also shooting with him.

I am writing with sorrow for the Chinese. I can imagine how the best Chinese will blush for such contemporaries! Let us recall the tales of Sven Hedin, how Chinese officials searched his trunks for Russian soldiers; how Filchner gave his signed waiver to the Amban that he had no claims against them for robbery; how badly Prjevalsky fared in Khotan; how Kosloff was forced to enter the court of the Amban with twenty Cossacks to quell the lawlessness. It is sad to realize and to see that the new order of the state has not yet changed its gloomy medievalism. Let the Amban get along without the aid of a handkerchief for his nose—that is not important. But let the Amban at least know something.

During the search of our things, the Amban recalled several times that the Russians at the frontier of Manchuria   broke his teapot;   all his petty rancor revealed itself in this information. And another very heinous crime did the Russians do; think only, they vaccinated the wife of the Taotai from Aksu!—This felony is related with rancor. During the search of our things, E.I. indignantly said to the Amban, who ordered that the yakhtan containing her own things be opened: “Look, Amban, there is my corset.” And so the wife of the Taotai from Aksu was avenged! Our Chinaman is indignant and shocked. While he, a Chinese officer and diplomat, with a literary reputation, stood by, they usurped and carried away our arms! They deprived the Expedition of its means of defense. He says: “This is the work of robbers.” Local Moslems come, advise and warn and try to show sympathy. One can imagine what these quiet, cowed people, who have lost their identities, have to bear. One can imagine how much the Chinese intellectuals, students and youths have to stand, they who are so sensitive to the grime of license.

It is necessary to find ways to depart. We must go, in spite of the frost. The camels are ready. The old Chinese whispers: “Tell the escorting soldiers, if they have guns, to go in front and not in the rear—Chinese shoot from behind.” The banner of the Expedition is ready. It will be carried in front. Tzung sewed it; red with yellow and the inscription in black: “Lo, an American Art Officer.”

The Amban does not know anything about art. The Bek—of Mongolian descent—instructs him politely by means of the following ancient legend: “In olden times in Kucha lived a celebrated painter. Once, as a deposit against a loan, he brought his painting representing a head of cabbage and a butterfly and asked three thousand   sar   (equivalent to two thousand seven hundred dollars). A boy, who was taking the place of the owner, gave him the requested loan. The owner returned. He was indignant that for a cabbage and. a butterfly, one should give so much money. He chased away the boy and considered the money lost. Winter came and on the appointed day the artist brought the money and asked to have the painting back. They took out the painting and the owner, to his terror, saw that the butterfly had disappeared from the picture. The artist demanded his complete picture as described. The owner was upset. The painter said, ‘So you have unjustly thrown out the boy. But now only he can help you.’ The owner called the boy. The boy for three days kept the picture near the fire and the butterfly appeared again. Then the boy said: ‘You have not appreciated the artist, but he is so perfect that his colors have all the qualities of nature. The butterflies appear in the warm summer-time. For the winter they disappear. The same happens also in the painting. Only the warmth of the fire recalled the butterfly to life in winter as well. So perfect is this painter.’ And the owner was ashamed and adopted the boy and made him rich for his wisdom.” So does the Bek teach the Amban, but even the Buddha said in the Sutras: “The greatest crime is ignorance.”

Among the Moslems, news has spread about the destruction of Damascus. The Moslems are indignant. Precisely by harming the sanctuaries and by pillage will this breach be most easily defined forever. In Paris they cannot even imagine how quickly through the depths of Asia fly bird-messengers. However, the flow of Moslem thought deserves great attention. One Moslem asked us why Muntazar, Messiah, Maitreya, all start with the same letter M. Is this not the very same   manifestation?   They also asked about Buddhism. They listened very attentively to the statement of Buddha being also a man, but being great through his supreme knowledge; of Buddha reverencing womankind; of Buddha having himself shown the manifestation of Maitreya. One day Kalmucks came from Karashahr. They came to make obeisance before Buddhist objects which we possess. Kalmucks know that here Buddha passed going northward. It is interesting to notice that Sir Charles Bell in his last book about Tibet points out that Buddha might have been of Mongolian descent. Nepal is populated by Mongoloids and the tribe of Sakya might have been sprung from them. Then, especially interesting is the direction of Buddha northward. All signs, all that remains, must be examined anew. The gigantic image of Maitreya, on the rock near Maulbeck, is often mentioned and described. It does not occur to one that the whole huge rock ought to be investigated from all sides. But when we were already in Khotan quite accidentally we heard about a Chinese inscription on the reverse side of the rock. It was an immeasurable pity to have lost this possibility; because a Chinese was with us. And then, what could this unexpected language have meant? One can expect Sanskrit, Pali, Tibetan and even Mongolian! But why did a Chinese hand write upon the rock of Maitreya? Monuments should always be approached with an open mind.

The antiques in Khotan are really exhausted. During the two months, outside of two or three fragments, and a dozen imitations, nothing was brought to us. And the occupation of seeking for treasure has ceased. And the tales breathe of old communications already described by Sir Aurel Stein. Yotkan—meaning the site of old Khotan—is really populated by peaceful Sarts and covered by Moslem cemeteries. Just as Italian antiquarians often refer to the name of Bode, here also now they are continually speaking about Sir John Marshall or about Sir Aurel Stein. There have not remained any ancient objects in daily use. Life is congealed as happens before a wave of new constructions.

Why, in point of fact, is Khotan considered a commercial center of Chinese Turkestan? We do not see the nerve of this commerce. We live on a big road branching to Aksu, Kucha and Tun-huang, to the Province Kansu and into the depths of China. But seldom do the bells of camels sound. Seldom does one hear the call of the donkeys. By such steps the rotations of industry are not being created. The rug industry has deteriorated considerably, it is now conventional and without life. Properly speaking the Khotan designs have completely degenerated. The jade has disappeared. And another characteristic pointed out by ancient authors has disappeared: singing has ceased, and has been replaced by fierce screams. In contrast with such singing, that of the Ladakis is full of rhythm and freshness. When a people has ceased to sing, it means that they are greatly depressed.

It is strange to think that this is the very same Khotan to which Fa-hsien in the fourth century of our era dedicated the exalted description: “This country thrives happily. The people are rich. They are all Buddhists and find joy in music. There are more than ten thousand members of communes and they almost all belong to Mahayana. They all live and derive their support from the commune. The villages are spread on big expanses and before the door of each house a small pagoda (Suburghan) is raised. They all are very hospitable and provide the guests with everything that is necessary. The ruler of the country placed us in Gomati, which belongs to Mahayana. At the beating of gongs all members of the commune gather for a meal. All sit in harmonious order and keep silence, and do not clatter with the dishes. . . . Some of us went on to Kashgar.” . . To what extent can reality be changed! The present evidence does not relate contemporary Khotan with its past, just as the Appian Way or the Road to Ostia do not lead to the present Roman Rome.

It is a pity that Fa-hsien did not travel further than Kashgar in what is now Russian Turkestan, because everywhere there and even in Persia are traces of Buddhism, not at all discovered yet. And Bokhara is nothing else than   Vihara,   the distorted name of a Buddhist monastery. George successfully discovered this philological transformation in Paris and Pelliot absolutely agreed with him. Pamir, Afghanistan, Persia—everywhere are traces of those flowerings of culture, when as chronicles say: “The art was incomparable, and a work of art and a book were the best gifts.”

Tsung had a dream. We three, E.I., George and I, with sabers, slashed Yang-tu-t’u. Tsung comes running to tell it and laughs: “A very good dream. Now all the victory will be yours, and Tu-t’u will fare badly.” Tzi Han Chen interprets this dream and also smiles broadly with pleasure that, if only in a dream, Tu-t’u fared badly. Tsung emphasizes the importance of the dream: “If Tu-t’u treats the great guests badly things will fare badly with him and he will not live.” So in far-away Khotan is rendered a verdict against Tu-t’u in Urumchi: “More than a year he will not live.” We speak to the Sart about this decision. He laughs. “You have already replaced Kerim-Bek, evidently the truth will assert itself with Tu-t’u.” Although Tu-t’u makes fun of the Peking government he himself is sitting in a furnace of hatred. Who will sit in his place? The Khotan robber, Ma, or Aksu or the one from Kuldja with his Manchurians? Any enterprising troops can easily take Sinkiang.

The pilgrims are passing on their way bringing new messages. In Urga a place for the Temple of Shambhala will be set. When the image of Rigden-japo will reach Urga, then will flash the first light of the New Era—truth. Then will the true renaissance of Mongolia begin. In Kucha, in the bazaars, recently two arriving lamas distributed images and a prayer of Shambhala. Here, also, the nuclei of revivified Buddhism have found shelter. The celebrated Suburghan near Khotan must be the place of one of the manifestations of the New Era. Khotan is the path of Buddha. Burkhan Bulat is near Khotan. The magnets of the ways are planted “as truly as under the stone of Ghum lies the prophecy about the New Era.”

The Maitreya Series comprises seven parts: 1. “Shambhala Approaches.” 2. “The Steed of Happiness.” 3. “The Strongholds of the Walls,” 4. “The Banner of the Future.” 5. “The Power of the Caves.” 6. “The Whispers of the Desert.” 7. “Maitreya the Conqueror.”

One cannot imagine a more striking contrast than the tones of the Himalayas and Ladak in comparison with the desert. Sometimes it seems that one’s eyesight is gone or the eyes are filled with dust. And where are the crystals of purple, blue and green? Where is the abundance of fiery yellow and vivid red colorings? It is like a gray and dusty storeroom! The all-penetrating corrosions of time cut the skin like glass and eat the tissues. The eye is so accustomed to tonelessness, that, not glimpsing any colors, it slides as into a void. Also, unnoticeably, a sand storm starts up and our black Tumbal becomes woolly gray. Sometimes the stars are beautiful. Occasionally we are reminded of the charm of the mountains by the faint blue range of Kunlun. The donkeys are bemoaning their lot. And the home-made mowing machines also groan. The gigantic goiters of the people are repulsive. Some say they are “from the water.” Others, “this is already such a race.” The size of the goiters seriously affects the nerves and psychology of the consciousness. The frost begins. The water in the creeks is covered with ice.

The lama says that one very learned Buddhist in Ladak wanted to arrange a discussion with George on the subject of Buddhism. At that time the lama was timorous about arranging the discussion. He says: “I was uncertain whether your son could speak about the foundations of the teaching. Nowadays there are so many foreigners who call themselves Buddhists, but they do not know anything and judge according to untruthful books and commentaries. Nowadays there are many such pseudo-Buddhists. But now I am sorry that I did not arrange this debate in Ladak because your son knows everything. He knows more than many learned lamas. Here I have put various questions unnoticeably and gradually to you; and you have explained to me everything. It is a pity that in Ladak we did not have an opportunity to speak. Once I was traveling here with the great scientist, P. I asked him various questions but he did not answer them. He only became angry, because he did not know how to answer.”

The lama would like very much to see the Khazars, a Mongolian tribe which remained after the invasion in Afghanistan.

The lamas often repeat the words of Buddha: “An oil lamp starts to smoke before extinguishing.”

Instead of being able quietly to depart from the rule of the Taotai there arise new insults and senseless difficulties. Our things are already packed. The camels are ready. We feel joy at leaving dangerous Khotan. But January 1st, early in the morning, a messenger comes from the Taotai, and in embarrassment tells us: “Mr. Taotai specifies that you go through Tun-huang not through Kashgar.” We say: “Our arms were taken away. To go through the desert without arms is impossible. Not only every expedition, but every merchant going through the desert has arms with him. Besides, money has been sent for us to Kashgar. Moreover, our co-workers, the Americans, go to Urumchi. And fourth, the Taotai himself has just approved our going to Kashgar.”

The messenger smiles, “All this is true. But Mr. Taotai sent me to tell you to go through the sands to Tun-huang.”

“But it is difficult to go there! But the Taotai himself said that there are robbers in the Province of Kansu!”

“Quite true. But Mr. Taotai changed his decision and indicates for you the path through the desert to Tun-huang.”

“It means that we cannot see either Yarkand, nor Kashgar, neither Aksu or Kucha. All these orders of the Chinese officials bring insult to the United States!”

“Speak yourself with Mr. Taotai. Today is New Year and if you will beg Mr. Taotai very well maybe he will again change his orders.”

“But we don’t want to beg. We desire justice.”

The messenger only smiles and suggests again that we go today to the Taotai.

Here also the people whisper to us a colorful detail. The case for our arms, without special reason, was made of a very huge size, like a coffin, and was carried on poles by four people. This procession went into the court of the Taotai during his festival lunch. The Chinese again whispered, “a coffin.” And the Taotai himself became pale and ordered them quickly to carry the case out of his court into the yamen of the Amban. He knows that he is committing an offense for which he will have to answer.

We go to the Taotai. As is prescribed for the action of a tragic Grand Guignol, the drama must be combined with the sideshow. On our way we meet a procession carrying paper dragons, rocks, fish and all sorts of tinsel. They are coming in our direction to congratulate us on the New Year.

The conference with the Taotai exceeded all limits of patience. We told him about the necessity of changing American checks in Kashgar. We told him about the necessity of having our teeth attended to. We told him about the hurried necessity of communicating with New York. We said that by his conduct he offended the dignity of America. We told about all causes and reasons. But the Taotai answered that we could go either through the Sanju Pass back to India (which is obviously ridiculous because the Pass is covered with ice until June) or we could go through the desert to Kansu (without arms, though infested with robbers, against whom he himself had warned us); or we would be detained in Khotan. I pointed out that our forced detention was an arrest for which we gave no cause. The Taotai repeated the same words, insisting that our passport, which was given by order of the Peking government, was not valid. Is it possible that Mr. Chang Lo, the representative of China, at the League of Nations, does not know how to give a passport? But the Taotai had never heard of the League of Nations. I pointed out that in view of such offensive conduct, I desired to leave China completely. The Taotai repeated the same thing. The people behind the Taotai’s back laughed and pointed to his head. We disputed unceasingly. It was impossible to follow up this complicated fissure of ignorance and madness. The Taotai was trying to annihilate our sympathy for China. We remembered one of our acquaintances, a progressive Chinese, in America. Listening to my defense of China, he somehow withered and asked sadly: “And you yourself, have you already been in China?” I answered, “I am intending to go there.” He added: “We shall speak after your return.”

And so we returned to our house arrested. We sat upon our packed trunks and we ended the New Year’s Day by composing a written address to the Consuls of Kashgar: “The Roerich Expedition on the eve of leaving for Kashgar has been arrested by the Chinese officials of Khotan without cause occasioned on the part of the Expedition.

“In view of the absence of a United States Consul, we are addressing ourselves herewith to the representatives of foreign governments in the city of Kashgar with the urgent demand that they show the most serious consideration in obtaining permission at once for the Expedition to proceed to Kashgar. In the event that permission of the Kashgar Taotai be insufficient we beg that they telegraph at our expense to the Governor-General of the Province of Urumchi.

“Three causes compel us precipitately to hurry on. These are: First, the necessity to communicate with our representatives from America; second, the necessity to see the doctor of the Swedish Mission; third, the necessity of receiving money in Kashgar.”

And so we shall wait. Our letters at best can reach only in nine days, if they reach at all. We have received back five of our very important telegrams undispatched. Everything has become really dangerous, because the officials are in every way hindering our communications with America. Our arms are seized. Of what else do they wish to deprive us?

We have received a note about the seizure of our arms. It begins thus: “I am giving this paper for the reason that before me appeared a foreign man, Hulitzu, the other name, Loluchi, etc.” It appears that Hulitzu means Roerich and Loluchi is also Roerich. Who can make anything out of this diabolic nonsense!

It is significant that America is again completely ignored in this manuscript. It seems that altogether the Taotai, even more than Columbus, doubts the existence of some kind of unknown-to-him America, which is called Mei-Kuo.

E.I. is very depressed. She set out with such an open heart. She says: “What shall one do with humanity; these are not men.” George is very downcast: “But that China, which is shown to us in museums and lectures, has nothing in common with what is occurring!” Our Chinese has drooped altogether, and begs us not to speak of anything because they will kill us, “because these are thieves, murderers and dogs!” The lama whispers, “The Chinese never act differently.” All this becomes dangerous.

Sir Aurel Stein gives in his book, as an authentic fact, that the Taotai in Kashgar for a few years of his administration transferred in his name to Hankow two million taels. We thought this communication impossible, although Sir Aurel Stein is an authoritative scientist. But is it possible? Is it possible? . . .And you, builders of new China, how hard it must be for you! And are you many? But of course the history of the world has always been created by the minority.

I hope that the Roosevelts had it easier. They happily avoided the sack of Khotan. And withal, hunting in the mountains saves one from daily communications with the Taotai and Amban. In the mountains no one harmed us, nor placed obstacles in our way. And there was no one to change his decisions daily. And after all, this is not a difference of psychologies. And our Chinese and the Moslems equally understand the whole dangerous absurdity of the situation. Just now someone offered to find a faithful man who would place our letter to the Consuls into the postbag, because today near the post office some suspicious watchers were noticed.

A merchant came inquiring about the possibilities of commercial connections with America. But what connections can there be if Khotan meets those coming from America in such hostility? One may not enter and may not leave. Such commercial connections!

The more hostile the officials are to us, the more sympathetically is the population inclined toward us. They offer to send over our addresses to the Consuls in a more certain way. Our people are sincerely indignant, especially at the seizure of the arms. They say: “They will never return the arms.” Three Chinese advise us to go on Russian roads. They express the belief that the officials, as usual, want to extort a large bribe. Our case is being discussed from all sides at the bazaar. Today the Bek accompanied George even during his ride. It means that the surveillance over us is intensified.

I am writing all these details because it will be useful for others. Verily, it is instructive! We have a passport from the Peking government; a special letter of recommendation from the Chinese Ambassador in Paris; a wonderful letter from the United States Consul in Calcutta; a letter from the Victoria and Albert Museum in London; a letter from the Archaeological Society in Washington; letters from six institutions in the United States. With us is a Chinese, a former officer and diplomat. With us are books published about my paintings. With us are English, French and other passports. And even with this complete symposium, one risks falling prey to the tyranny of dangerous despots. All this is very instructive.

Just now they have brought a new “authentic” communication from the bazaar. Don’t you see, during the search of our house many machine guns were found. Tomorrow they will discover that my pictures are wings of aeroplanes. They speak about a Great Foreigner who travels from Tibet on one hundred horses! On verifying this, it comes out that this is also about us.

They speak in the bazaar about the fight of the ten Chinese generals. They speak about the death of Chang-Tso-Lin. They speak about foreigners who brought four hundred cases of arms. On verification, it appears that this rumor is also about us. Today our letter to the Consuls left. The men are afraid to go through the desert without arms. It is impossible to foresee into how the present events will resolve themselves.

A Sunday bazaar communication. At the bazaar the Kalmucks were betting about our success. And the forecasting was successful, as never before. And they ran to communicate it to us. The Taotai himself with his foolish raids is helping in the spreading of absurd rumors. We shall in some way or other leave, but he will strangle himself in his garden of madness. I have decided to communicate with America and to give up the plan of going through China. I have too many reasons against it. I undertook to paint but I did not agree to pursue foolish controversies with madmen. One can cross the highest mountains, one can find a common tongue with the most primitive tribes, but savages in dress clothes with decorations and many wives, are absolutely not acceptable and do not enter into any evolution.

They come to ask us to help a woman going through a difficult childbirth. Of course we are helpless. But the Chinese knows a sure remedy: “This is the devil sitting under the bed and it hinders the woman from giving birth. One has to shoot with a gun under the bed and the devil will run away and the woman will give birth immediately!” The Chinaman has another conjecture; he says with a very important air: “The Tibetans are fools. They think that in heaven there is only one dragon. This is foolish. In the heaven there are a dragon and a bird. One dragon cannot make rain.” The Chinese also knows that there exists a district where only women live and they give birth only to girls. He dislikes “revived corpses” very much.

We are formulating our accusation against the Taotai for the Governor-General as follows: We accuse Ma-ta-jen Taotai of Khotan of the following: 1. Of a deeply insulting attitude toward the dignity of the United States of America and toward the cultural goal of our expedition. 2. Of his insulting refusal to take into consideration the letter from the Consul-General of the United States in India. 3. Of his insulting prohibition put upon the pursuit of artistic work in Khotan under threat of confiscating all art materials belonging to the expedition. 4. Of the insulting refusal to take into consideration all letters and authorizations from the American institutions which have organized the expedition. 5. Of the insulting behavior toward our personal dignity. 6. Of the insulting refusal to recognize as valid our Chinese passport given to us by order of the Peking government, through Mr. Cheng Lo, the Chinese Ambassador in Paris. 7. Of the refusal to take into consideration the letter given by Mr. Cheng Lo to all governors of Turkestan. 8. Of forcibly detaining the expedition in Khotan which ruined the scheduled plans of the expedition. 9. The insulting seizure of all our arms (two guns, one hunter’s gun and three revolvers), which deprived the expedition of all means of defense, although every traveler crossing the desert carries arms. 10. Of the insulting and inhuman threat to send the expedition beyond the boundaries of China through the Pass of Sanju closed with snow. 11. Of the insulting refusal to take into consideration the presence in the expedition of a middle-aged lady. 12. Of insulting and inhuman intent to send the expedition to the desert in the direction of Tun-huang without arms, without money and with the members suffering from their teeth. 13. Of the insulting and humiliating change of his own orders each day. 14. Of the insulting and inhuman refusal to permit a personal consultation with the doctor of the Swedish Mission in Kashgar. 15. Of the insulting refusal to permit us to arrange our money affairs personally in Kashgar. 16. Of his insulting demand that we show the invalid pre-war passport, nine years after the revolution. 17. Of his insulting refusal to permit us to communicate with American institutions from Kashgar.

If Ma-ta-jen, the Taotai of Khotan, would like to follow the indications from the Governor-General at Urumchi he would strive to direct the expedition just there. His repeated refusals to permit us to proceed to Urumchi via Kashgar show his criminal intentions. The above-mentioned accusations force us to demand a full and immediate satisfaction.

Also one must notice that in all negotiations, we pointed out to the officials that such actions as theirs would reflect on the Chinese students and Chinese quarters so numerous and widespread in America. But it was clear that the fate of their compatriots did not interest the criminal officials in the slightest.

Our lama informs us that a lama known to him was going on a pilgrimage to Tibet and was arrested by Chinese officials. The lama gave a bribe to the local colonel of a thousand lan, a horse and two pieces of cloth. And in the night the latter let him through. The lama walked for nine days by crossing at night and during the day hid himself in the sands.

Vedantists call Buddhists “Nastika.” It means godless people. However, Vedanta also does not concede a personal god but knows only the principle. The formula of initiation of a Buddhist is: “I take refuge in Buddha; I take refuge in The Teaching; I take refuge in the Order.” Does not this formula lead to endless knowledge—Buddha the man, the greater teacher of light, reverencing knowledge and summoning to go fearlessly along the path of general well-being. The entire contemporary evolution was foretold by Buddha—this lion of fearlessness and attainment.

An occidental newspaper from India reached us. Bose has discovered muscles in plants. Of course, if there are nerves, why not muscles. Bose is demonstrating just that page which is needed for the coming evolution.

Another “wonderful” detail about Khotan. A month ago a woman servant came to be hired—a strange Moslem woman; she at once threw back her veil and started vulgarly to smile, offering her services. The cheeks were rouged. The eyebrows thick as a finger—in one straight line. One felt something specially sent, unclean. We refused. She left. Today an old Chinese complained about rumors which the Amban spread that he made dishonorable offers to the washwoman. The old man is again indignant. At once we remembered the rouged one. Travelers, be careful! The old man protests: “The Amban himself has a wine shop in Yarkand. If only we could get soldiers from the Consul!” If even a Chinese dreams of the Consul’s soldiers one can imagine his mood.

The characteristics of the fifth Buddha: The North; the blessing of fearlessness; Akochir or Ak Dorje (the crossed Dorje); the sound A; Tara; Visvapani (the many-armed, all bestowing) Maitreya.

In his article in the Shanghai Times of 1925, “In the wilderness of Tibet,” Dr. Lao Tsin says, “in one of the sanctuaries I have seen one of its most remarkable characteristics—the mummified body of a scientist who, they say, died 350 years ago. Garbed in the costume of a Tibetan lama, as he was during his life, he sits in an armchair and appears like a man rather fallen asleep than dead hundreds of years since. Before him on the table lies an unfinished manuscript over which he was at work before his death. The body has turned yellow and dry with time, but as a whole it has kept incredibly well. Many legends were woven around these remains of the ancient Tibetan scientist. I was assured that three times during the period since his death, the body had changed its original position. And once it disappeared altogether and came back only after two or three days. Once the keepers of the temple, coming into the chamber where the remains were kept, discovered that the manuscript before him was completed with a message of the greatest importance for the whole world.”

Okakura notes: “You can laugh at us having ‘too much tea’ but could we not also suspect you Westerners of the ‘lack of tea’ in your constitution? You have gained an expansion of your possessions at the price of all calmness. We have created the harmony without force against any attack. Would you believe it? The East in certain respects is greater than the West! The sky of contemporary humanity is broken in the cyclopic fight for wealth and despotism. The world moves gropingly in the darkness of egoism and vulgarity. One buys science with a bad conscience. One manifests good will, out of love for utility. East and West, like two dragons tossed by the turbulent sea, are fighting in vain to conquer the precious stone of life. We need ‘Ny-uka’ in order to heal the great disaster. We await the great Avatar.”

Aurobindo Ghose says, “We say to humanity, ‘The time has come when you must take the great step and rise out of a material existence into the higher, deeper and wider life toward which humanity moves. The problems which have troubled mankind can only be solved by conquering the kingdom within; not by harnessing the forces of Nature to the service of comfort and luxury, but by mastering the forces of the intellect and the spirit; by vindicating the freedom of man within as well as without and by conquering, from within, external Nature.”

Alexandra David-Neel says in her article, “The Coming Hero”: (“La Vie de Peuple,” 1925, Paris.) “We can smile at these extravagant dreams but in those immense regions where they are accepted with unshaken belief and with the greatest reverence, their influence can become powerful and foreshadow completely unexpected events which the most skillful of politicians is unable to foresee.”

Read the story of David-Neel about the old lama who brought flowers upon the glaciers. Read the tale of the lama about the coming of the time of Shambhala. From a local story-teller the lama is transformed into a participant in international events. David-Neel has brought from Tibet several new variants of the manuscript about Shambhala.

For a scientist the whole net of prophecies and very significant indications drawn across the entire immeasurable distances of Asia, represents a remarkable interest. A poet would say that the sand and stones were speaking because often the ways of this speeding information are absolutely undecipherable. And you need but relate a piece of information when, immediately, one gives you in reply a still more significant piece of news. And at this, the half-shut eyes are faintly glistening.

And so we live. Once we receive a piece of information from the heights, and once from the abyss. Today a soldier stopped our Chinese at the bazaar, caught hold of his horse by the bridle, and demanded money from him. Yesterday one of our “guards” stopped a woman on the road and tried to demand money from her. And in such a country they have left us without arms! It is strange that Prjevalsky also had unpleasant experiences just in Khotan. Marco Polo condemns the customs of Khotan. So we sit on our trunks amidst untold infamy. They brought us information from the bazaar that the Taotai is introducing the opium trade in Khotan.

A number of members of the brotherhood of Buddha spent their time in quarrels and the Blessed One left them. The neighboring donors were repelled by the quarreling ones and the latter were humbled and came to Buddha asking him to forget everything not referring to the causes of quarrels among them. But Buddha said: “Such reconciliation will not be fundamental. On the contrary, fearlessly uncover all the roots of the quarrels and of your animosity. Only then will reconciliation be real.”

Going to Asia do not take much food. Everything is there in sufficient quantity. Kashmiri agencies know nothing. They made us carry flour and rice with us. They warned us that there was no sugar. They made us take forage. However, everything is there and for the ten days of desert through Karakorum, not much provision is needed. It only makes the caravan senselessly long!

How is our consciousness enriched by sitting in Khotan? It becomes clear that a life such as that in Khotan should not exist. Imagine the lives of one hundred thousand people plunged into complete darkness, divested of all light. Out of darkness are being born disease, vice, lies, treachery and ignorance. The people have retained only their small trade, achieved by cheating and treachery. The understanding of quality in the products has died out. The understanding about celerity in work has perished. The understanding of the victory of labor is demolished. Submersion in the slush of bazaars and a mutual strangulation goes on. Thus it cannot continue!

The lama who warned us that “Chinese cannot act differently” is predicting another occurrence. He says: “When they see that things cannot continue in such insolence and cruelty, they will assure you that nothing at all happened, that it only appeared so to us and they were always friends. Note that they transmit everything by word of mouth and that the frightened Beks will deny everything that they have seen and heard. The only proof is the receipt regarding the seizure of the arms.”

You, builders of New China, remove the “buffalos” more quickly. The place for them is the zoo.

Our Khotan friend, Kudai-Berdi-Bai, relates with the humor of the East, about his visit to a miserly friend: “I come to him and he sits and washes heaps of silver coins which have become absolutely black. It appears that he keeps his riches in the ground and our earth is such that the silver gets absolutely black. And so I tell him, ‘Dost thou see, even the silver gets black when it is hidden from people. And thy face will also get black in the other world, if thou wilt uselessly hide thy riches.’ ”

This is a tale from the practical East.

Great auriferous sands were recently found two days away from Khotan, along the Karakash, Thousands of gold seekers who worked on the stream of the river Keriya left their work and turned to Karakash. A few more gold-bearing rivers were mentioned. Of course, all this is exploited by very crude means. In natural resources Sinkiang is a rich province.

The sensation of Khotan! Bazaar rumors came, about the dinner arranged by some official in Kashgar. It is being discussed at the bazaars in the most fantastic way. The Taotai officials, merchants and also many of the poorest inhabitants were invited to the dinner. The places were so arranged that the Taotai and the officials were among the most ragged beggars. The same thing happened with the richest man of the city. The host said: “Now we are not in office. Here we are all men, are all equals. Is it not so? Tomorrow you will be the head, Taotai, and today we are equal people.” According to the echoes in Khotan the impression was very great. So it is being related in the bazaar. One cannot discern where the people’s creation begins.

Letters came from America. Through Kuldja from November 5th and through Tashkent from December 1st; almost the same amount of time as to Ladak from New York. Beloved friends, we read with joy about all works, exhibitions, lectures, the school, the propaganda of art among broad masses; because all this is so imperatively needed. You are bringing true joy into the life of youth and are kindling the heart-fires.

We heard about some gigantic statues in Central Asia. It is difficult to know which; maybe these are the celebrated statues in Bamian, the half-destroyed city between Kabul and Balkh. The height of one of these is 170 feet. Some consider them entirely of Buddhist origin. Others see in them the most ancient antiquity. The same unclearness as about the stone giants on the Easter Island.

Our Chinese is deeply offended by the officials. He does not want to go back to China. He hung on the gates some sort of tremendous vivid notice—black and red. In translation it means: “The American art officer, Lo, forbids any one to enter into the court who has no business there.” It appears that “Lo” means Roerich!?! “Lo”—in Chinese, also means “alarm.”

In Khotan there was a fire during the night. The Sarts interpreted it as due to the unworthy conduct of the officials against the good guests.

A telegram came: “Washington undertakes necessary measures.” But the arms were all taken away. And without arms I cannot attempt to sketch in unknown countries. I have a great deal of experience and reasons for this. Not only people but wild dogs have taught me this custom. Isn’t it insolent to ignore all papers and to deprive us of all means of defense? There have been many cases of oppression of expeditions but such an act is not known in literature. I am placing the responsibility upon the government of the Chinese Republic.

From America came a telegram so distorted that it was impossible to understand the meaning. The unseen friends from the bazaar brought the news about a big quarrel between the Taotai and Amban.

And even days of seeming inactivity are full of signs. Here is a remarkable little casket! There is news about the monastery near Kuldja! And there is Maitreya! There is information that often the ruler of a district of China simply doesn’t recognize the money of his predecessor. And the people do not know where to keep their money. From everyday life, the discussion ascends to the problems of the common order of things. There are periods, called the “balls of events,” when each circumstance rolls toward one and the same common end. It is now for seventeen years that we are watching the manifestations of the hastening of evolution. Between the tomb of that which passes away and between the cradle of the future, electrons of untold energy are gathering new formations. And the painter-hermit of the mountain abodes is tracing with surety the battle and victory of Maitreya. Confidently he is tracing the lines and the distinctions of those approaching ones, and the signs of those passing away! And quietly and indisputably he is signing the dedication: “Homage to the ruler of the law, to the exalted ruler of the northern country of Shambhala.” In Burkan Bulat will be the Temple of Shambhala.

The officials are intensifying their criminality. The Amban started to open packages addressed to us. Today he opened a package from the Shanghai bank. We shall say to him, “Do not forget, Amban, that it is just the Statue of Liberty which opens the way to the heart of America. Now all Khotan knows that we have received money. Yet you and the Taotai have deprived us all of means of self-defense.”

The Amban notifies us that there is an order from Urumchi to open all letters and to seize our arms. But that instead of arms, they will give us military escort. I answer him that we cannot trust their soldiers, because they all run away at the sight of our one dog. However, three years ago an American expedition had to defend itself from an attack of a pack of dogs, by shooting. I point out to the Amban that the arms taken by him belong to the American institutions but again America is being completely ignored. I also tell him that his soldiers will end by shooting each other. The Amban did not have time to reach the city when, in confirmation of my remarks about the guard, the secretary came galloping to us, asking help in a serious surgical case. Two of the Taotai’s closest bodyguards shot one another. Of course we are not surgeons. It appears that the officer of the Taotai was stealing some things and the other guard discovered it and, as a result, the two were seriously wounded. And from these thieves and assassins, the Taotai wishes to provide our guard. Our old man Ts’ai Han Chen says, “Formerly, for opening a stranger’s letter in China, one was punished by having an eye taken out and a hand cut off. But here there are no officers but robbers.” It will be enlightening to see how we will find the central power of the province Sinkiang, in Urumchi.

The first snow fell. E.I. is feeding the birds. Masses of speckled little birds surrounded her. Hindus often feed the birds during the winter months.

We received a letter from the English Consul in Kashgar. Apparently they are making efforts to enable us to leave Khotan.

There is a letter from the English Consul. He notifies us that following his efforts and those of the Kashgar Taotai, the Governor-General invites us immediately to proceed to Kashgar. We will see how and when the local “Governors” are going to notify us.

Toward evening the Amban notifies us briefly through Khudai-Berdí-Baí that a letter has been received from the Governor-General with permission for us to go to Kashgar. Even the commands of the Governor-General are being transmitted through the private note of a private man. What an organization! At our first meeting I said to the Taotai that Akbar the Great called travelers the best ambassadors of his kingdom and always took care to preserve good relationship with them. I can say now to the Taotai, “You, Ma-ta-jen, for three months have very actively created our mood and I did not hide from you that I would describe all that occurred. Confucius ordained that according to the committed evil, one must act, in just measure. China is a Confucian country and according to Confucius I have to write on your portrait: Ma-ta-jen, ignorant and cruel savage.” And according to the teaching of Buddha, “ignorance is qualified as the greatest crime.” And the same wise Confucius rejected all who rebelled against art and knowledge. However, we all had approached with a sincere desire to inscribe into our notes that the powers of China had become more cultured than during the times of the decline of the empire. And now let us again piercingly look into the eyes of the new officials. Does there not hide behind their shoulders an ignorant Ma-ta-jen?

People have started to move. Preparations! Out of all the trunks, the best are American—Belber. They do not bend on all passes nor let any dust through. The horse easily takes two trunks. Rather bad are the Kashmiri yaktans.

Our Chinese is rejoicing. He apparently feared direct assaults on the part of the Taotai. Now he recognizes that his following of “the customs” was superfluous. He made us bring firecrackers to the Taotai, the day of the completion of his new house. He arranged a procession with gifts when he came to Khotan. Against our wishes he brought cards to the new Amban. According to the results this was all in vain. He explains, that these are not officers but bandits, but he also agrees that one must abandon these customs.

As one might expect from these ignorant officials of Khotan, now they give us to understand that the command from the Governor-General came through their efforts. They do not know that in the letter of the British Consul the order of the receipt of the command is clearly outlined and they think that we believe them.

A mafa (a carriage) from Khotan to Kashgar costs twenty-five sar; a pack horse, six sar. (A sar is about one Mexican dollar.)

From the developed negatives many and necessary ones appeared to be spoiled. Some have lines and black spots. While still in India they warned us that these so-called tropical films give bad results. Generally all our regular films turn out. Well, but tropical films are all cloudy. And often a whole half of a film or more, is either white or black. Very good are Agfa.

The local bearded men are coming to talk over all sorts of things. Of course, the true intention is not revealed at once. Of course, they wish to hear about the new customs. They think that these customs could be good. They think that all men must labor. All is well and the tea is being consumed in full accord. But suddenly one drags from out his bosom a number of a London newspaper with a reprint of a drawing from a Moscow magazine, Bezbojnik. Allah also received his unlucky share there. The bearded one “naively” inquires, “But this seems to be Allah?” Of course it is evident and he concludes sourly: “We do not touch their Lenin. Then why do they offend our Allah? And then, do they know the whole Koran? Let them not offend us Moslems. We are many.” The bearded ones sourly departed. . . .

In Cairo, near Napoleon’s cannon-balls which stuck out in the walls of the Mosque, I asked the guide: “Why do you not remove these traces of war?” He answered: “We shall guard these marks of western sentiments.”

A representative of Japanese newspapers was asked, “Is corporal punishment of children permitted in Japan?” As befits a great country, the answer was in the negative. Really, are many of the attacks on Japan just? The courage and honor of the Samurai, the warriors; the heroism and self-sacrifice of the women; the intensified labor of workmen and husbandmen give undeniable charm to Nippon. I never had any collisions with Japanese. On the contrary, there appeared sensitive Japanese friends. I recall my articles, long since, about Japan. I shall not refute them, but I even will reaffirm much of what was told. Eliseeff, in Paris, spoke about the methods of teaching in Japanese monasteries. It is very remarkable. Sudden questions and the demand that the answer should not contain the least intrusion of the personal. As in life, appear the episodes of the Japanese drama. The assassins are stealthily creeping to kill the crown prince. In the helplessness of the moment, the nurse exchanges him for her child. Shockingly subtle is the expression of her cold official mourning over the supposed prince when her mother’s heart is torn with sorrow.

Tao-Te-Ching points out: “A sage places his personality in the last plan but nevertheless it appears on the first place. He considers his personality as if detached from him, and nevertheless his personality is preserved. Is it not because of this, that his ends are realized? Because he has no personal and private ends. He is free from self-exposition and therefore he gives light. He is free from self-affirmation and therefore is being distinguished. He is free from self-pride and therefore his merits are acknowledged. He is free from self-satisfaction and therefore he enjoys superiority. And because of that he is to such an extent free from any competition. No one in the world can compete with him. He who possesses the qualities of Tao is like a child—the venomous insects will not sting him; wild animals will not attack him, birds of prey will not strike him!”

Buddha ordains: “By introspection, by virtue and purity a wise man creates of himself an island which cannot be submerged by any floods” (Udanavarga).

Our Chinese and lama apparently know well a certain type of Chinese official. Everything happens according to their “prophecies.” The officials repeatedly assure us of their friendship and put the blame for everything that happened on the Governor-General of the Sinkiang province. Now the officials have the problem, on what pretext to return our seized arms in order to restore everything to an elusive oral condition and to say: “All that occurred was the fantasy of travelers.” For three months we passed through a wonderful schooling; something of the course experienced by us nevertheless remains unclear. For instance, why did the officials in every way prevent us from communicating with America and why did they return us the telegrams undispatched? Whereas, it is known to everybody that through Kashgar and the English Consulate one can always communicate. The local people at once warned us not to believe the officials. And to our questions as to why, since we did nothing wrong, the local bearded one repeated, “Because they are fools.” But also in the actions of hopeless fools there is some sort of even distorted sense. It means, therefore, that here is concealed not only stupidity but even criminality.

A telegram came from New York: “American minister is acting.”

Let us finish by a page of that China which we did not see: “Finally the yellow ruler, son of heaven, conquered the demon of earth and darkness. But the giant in his agony knocked with his head the solar arch and broke into fragments the cupola of blue jade. The stars lost their nests and the moon wandered without aim amidst the scattered fragments of night. In despair the ruler searched everywhere to find who could restore the heavens. He did not search in vain. From the eastern sea arose the ruleress, the heavenly Ny-uka, shining in her armor of flames. She forged the five colors of the rainbow in her magic forge and restored the heavens.”

Let us not forget the colorful pollen of Japan which we did not yet see. “Komio, the regent of Nara, sang, ‘If I shall pluck thee, my hand will defile thee, oh flower. Thus as I see thee on the bosom of the meadow, so I dedicate thee to the Buddhas of the past, present and future.’ ”

And again a page from the true East apostrophizes the Mother of the World: “Thou, Who hast covered Thy Face! Thou, Who hast woven the texture of the far-off worlds, Messenger of the Untold! Ruler of the Elusive! Bestower of the Unrepeatable!

“By Thy command the ocean becomes silent and the whirlwinds trace the outlines of invisible signs. . . And She who covered her face will stand on guard alone in the glory of the signs. And none will ascend to the summit, none will perceive the glory of the twelve-signed symbol of her power. From the spirals of light she herself has woven the sign in silence. She is the Leader of those who go toward attainment. Four corners, the sign of affirmation, are manifested by her as a benediction to those who have made their decision. . . .

“A silent command, all-penetrating, unchangeable, indivisible, irrefutable, blinding, generous, indescribable, unrepeatable, unharmed, unpronounced, timeless, undelayable—the lightning manifested in the lightning!”