The town itself was not of much importance, nor so promising as a trading-mart as I had hoped. It lay at the foot of the jong, and the bazaar did not possess shops of any size. The real population, indeed, seemed to be scattered in the numerous hamlets dotted all over the valley, through which ran a considerable river.
The demeanour of the inhabitants was respectful. They brought in supplies for sale, and in a few days a regular bazaar was established by the Tibetans immediately outside our camp, the bartering being carried on, as usual, mostly by women. The people said they had not the slightest wish to fight us, and only desired to escape being commandeered by the Lhasa authorities. The valley proved to be very fertile, with cultivation all down it, and supplies were plentiful.
Gyantse was indeed a delightful change from Tuna. It was, in the first place, nearly 2,000 feet lower, so naturally warmer. In addition, spring was coming on. Leaf-buds were beginning to sprout on the willows. The little irises in plenty were appearing. And birds of several rare varieties came to rejoice Captain Walton’s heart and fill his collection.
Captain O’Connor, Captain Ryder, and Mr. Hayden rode down the Shigatse road to Dongtse and visited its monastery, besides other houses and estates of note in the valley. They found the people everywhere friendly and very different from what they would have been on the north-west frontier, for instance, under similar circumstances. The peasants were ploughing and sowing their fields, and the whole country appeared perfectly contented and quiet.
From the rear, too, came encouraging tidings. I received a letter from the Dharm Raja, of Bhutan, saying that when he heard that his friends had won a victory he was greatly rejoiced, for nowadays England and Bhutan had established a firm friendship, and he hoped that there would always be firm faith and friendship between the English and Bhutanese.
Yet, with all this ease and quiet, there was not the slightest real sign of the business of negotiation being commenced. I had naturally expected that, when the Resident had been specially deputed by the Chinese Government for these negotiations sixteen months previously, I should have found him at Gyantse, or at any rate on his way there, and that, after the Chinese Government had been urging the Tibetans since the previous summer to send a properly empowered delegate, the Resident would have been accompanied by a Tibetan Commissioner capable of negotiating with me. But on April 22 I received a despatch from the Resident, stating, indeed, his intention of arriving at Gyantse before May 12, but giving no news that a proper Tibetan Commissioner had been appointed. He stated that the Lhasa General had been the aggressor in the fight at Guru, that the fault was on the side of the Tibetans, who had disregarded his advice, and he recognized our compassion in having magnanimously released the foolish and ignorant prisoners, cared for the wounded, and shown humane motives of sternness and mercy. He added that the Dalai Lama was now aroused to a sense of our power. But still there was no mention that the transport which the Resident was “insisting on” had been provided, and the appointment of a proper Tibetan Commissioner was still not made. In fact, the Councillors had all been imprisoned by the Dalai Lama, and there were “but few capable Tibetan officials to settle the frontier and other important questions,” which could not, added the Resident, “be disposed of in a peremptory manner.” A few days’ delay would not, therefore, he considered, be out of place.