CHAPTER FIVE
I hurried along the corridors, rushing round corners to the peril of those who got in’ my way. An old monk grabbed me in passing, shook me, and said, “It is not good to have this unseemly haste, boy, it is not the way of the true Buddhist!” Then he peered into my face, recognised me as the ward (–under oppsyn av) of the Lama Mingyar Dondup. With a muttered sound that appeared to be “ulp!” he dropped me like a hot coal and hastened on his way. I sedately followed my own course. At the entrance to my Guide’s room I stopped with such a jerk that I almost fell over; with him were two very senior abbots. My conscience was giving me a very bad time; what had I done now? Worse, which of my many ‘sins’ had been discovered? Senior abbots did not wait for small boys unless it was bad news for the small boys. My legs felt distinctly rubbery and I ransacked my memory to see if I had done anything that could cause my expulsion from Chakpori. One of the abbots looked at me and smiled with the warmth of an old iceberg. The other looked toward me with a face that seemed carved from a piece of the Himalayas. My Guide laughed. “You certainly have a guilty conscience, Lobsang. Ah! These Reverend Brother Abbots are also telepathic lamas,” he added with a chuckle.
The grimmer (den morskeste) of the two abbots looked hard at me, and in a voice reminiscent of falling rocks said, “Tuesday Lob-sang Rampa, The Inmost One has caused investigation to be made whereby it has been determined that you be Recognised as the present Incarnation of . . .”
My head was a awhirl, I could hardly follow what he was saying, and barely caught his concluding remarks, ” . . . and the style; rank, and title of Lord Abbot be conferred upon you by virtue of this at a ceremony the time and place of which shall be determined at a later occasion.” The two abbots bowed solemnly to the Lama Mingyar Dondup, and then bowed as solemnly to me. Picking up a book, they filed out and gradually the sound of their footfalls became no more. I stood as one dazed, gazing down the corridor after them. A hearty laugh, and the clasp of a hand on my shoulder brought me back to the present. “Now you know what all the running about was for. The tests have merely confirmed what we knew all the time. It calls for a special celebration between you and me, then I have some interesting news for you.” He led me into another room, and there was spread a real Indian meal. Without any need to be encouraged, I set to!
Later, when I could eat no more, when even the sight of the remaining food made me feel queasy, my Guide rose and led the way back into the other room. “The Inmost One has given me permission to tell you about the Cave of the Ancients,” he said, immediately adding, “rather, the Inmost One has suggested that I tell you about it.” He gave me a sideways glance, then almost in a whisper, remarked, “We are sending an expedition there within a few days.” I felt the excitement surge through me and had the impossible impression that perhaps I was going “home” to a place I had known before.
My Guide was watching me very closely indeed. As I looked up, under the intensity of his gaze, he nodded his head. “Like you, Lobsang, I had special training, special opportunities. My own Teacher was a man who long ago passed from this life, whose empty Shell is even now in the Hall of Golden Images. With him I travelled extensively throughout the world. You, Lobsang, will have to travel alone. Now sit still and I will tell you of the finding of the Cave of the Ancients.” I wet my lips, this was what I had wanted to hear for some time. In a lamasery, as in every community, rumours were often spread in confidential corners. Some rumours were selfevident asrumours and nothing more. This, though, was different, somehow I believed what I had heard.
“I was a very young lama, Lobsang,” commenced my Guide. “With my Teacher and three young lamas we were exploring some of the remoter mountain ranges. Some weeks before there had been an extraordinary loud bang, followed by a heavy rock-fall. We were out to investigate matters. For days we had prowled (streifet omkring) round the base of a mighty rock pinnacle. Early on the morning of the fifth day my Teacher awakened, yet was not awake; he appeared to be in a daze (være fortumlet). We spoke to him and received no answer. I was overcome by worry, thinking that he was ill, wondering how we should get him down the endless miles to safety. Sluggishly(tregt), as if in the grip of some strange power, he struggled to his feet, fell over, and at last stood upright. Stumbling, Sluggishly, and moving like a man in a trance, he moved ahead. We followed almost in fear and trembling(skjelvende). Up the steep rock face we climbed, with showers of small stones raining down upon us. At last we reached the sharp edge of the range top and stood peering (stirrende) over.
I experienced a feeling of deep disappointment; before us was a small valley now almost filled with huge boulders (kjempesteiner). Here, evidently was where the rock fall had originated. Some rock-fault had developed, or some Earth tremor had occurred which had dislodged (revet løs) part of the mountainside. Great gashes (flenger) of newly exposed rock glared at us in the bright sunlight. Moss and lichen (mose og lav hang ned..) drooped disconsolately now deprived of any support. I turned away in disgust (misnøye) . There was nothing here to engage my attention, nothing but a rather large rock-fall. I turned to start the descent, but was immediately halted by a whispered ‘Mingyar!’ One of my companions was pointing. My Teacher, still under some strange compulsion (tvang/ledelse), was edging down the mountainside.” I sat enthralled (fengslet), my Guide stopped talking for a moment and took a sip of water, then continued.
“We watched him with some desperation. Slowly he climbed down the side, toward the rock-strewn floor of the little valley. We reluctantly (motvillig) followed, expecting every moment to slip on that dangerous range. At the bottom, my Teacher did not hesitate, but picked a careful way across the immense boulders, until at last he reached the other side of the stone valley. To our horror he commenced (startet) to climb upwards, using hand and foot holds which were invisible to us a few yards behind him. We followed reluctantly. There was no other course open to us, we could not return and say that our senior had climbed from us, that we were afraid to follow him – dangerous though the climb was. I climbed first, picking a very careful way. It was hard rock, the air was thin. Soon the breath was rasping in my throat and my lungs were filled with a harsh, dry ache (smerte). Upon a narrow ledge (hylle) perhaps five hundred feet (160m) from the valley, I lay stretched out, gasping for breath. As I glanced up, preparatory (forberedende til å fortsette..) to resuming the climb, I saw the yellow robe of my Teacher disappear over a ledge high above. Grimly I clung to the mountain face, edging ever upwards. My companions, as reluctant as I, followed behind. By now we were clear of the shelter afforded by the small valley, and the keen wind was whipping our robes about us. Small stones pelted down and we were hard put to keep going.” My Guide paused a moment to take another sip of water and to look to see that I was listening. I was!
“At last,” he continued, “I felt a ledge level with my questing fingers. Taking a firm grip, and calling to the others that we had reached a place where we could rest, I pulled myself up. There was a ledge, sloping slightly down towards the back and so quite invisible from the other side of the mountain range. At first glance the ledge appeared to be about ten feet wide. I did not stop to see further, but knelt so that I could help the others up, one by one. Soon we stood together, shivering in the wind after our exertion. Quite obviously the rock fall had uncovered this ledge, and – as I peered more closely, there was a narrow crevice (fjellsprekk) in the mountain wall. Was there? From where we stood it might have been a shadow, or the stain (flekk) of dark lichen. As one, we moved forward. It was a crevice, one that was about two feet six inches wide by about five feet high. Of my Teacher there was no sign.” I could visualise the scene well. But this was not the time for introspection (selvanalyse). I did not want to miss a word!
“I stepped back to see if my Teacher had climbed higher,” my Guide went on, “but there was no sign of him. Fearfully I peered (tittet) into the crevice. It was as dark as the grave. Inch by inch, painfully bent, I moved inside. About fifteen feet (5m) in I turned a very sharp corner, another, and then another. Had I not been paralysed with fright I would have screamed with surprise; here was light, a soft silvery light, brighter than the brightest moonlight. Light that I had never seen before. The cave in which I now found myself was spacious, with a roof invisible in the darkness above. One of my companions pushed me out of the way and was in turn pushed by another. Soon the four of us stood silent and frightened – gazing at the fantastic sight before us. A sight, which would have made any one of us alone, think that he had taken leave of his senses. The cave was more like an immense hall, it stretched away in the distance as if the mountain itself was hollow. The light was everywhere, beating down upon us from a number of globes which appeared to be suspended from the darkness of the roof. Strange machines crammed the place, machines such as we could not have imagined. Even from the high roof depended apparatus and mechanisms. Some, I saw with great amazement, were covered by what appeared to be the clearest of glass.” My eyes must have been round with amazement, for the Lama smiled at me before resuming his story.
“By now we had quite forgotten my Teacher, when he suddenly appeared we jumped straight off the ground in fright! He chuckled at our staring eyes and stricken faces. Now, we saw, he was no longer in the grip of that strange, overpowering (overmannende tvang) compulsion. Together we wandered round looking at the strange machines. To us they had no meaning, they were just collections of metal and fabric (struktur) in strange, exotic form. My Teacher moved toward a rather large black panel apparently built into one of the walls of the cave.
As he was about to feel its surface it swung open. By now we were almost at the point of believing that the whole place was bewitched, or that we had fallen prey to some hallucinating force. My Teacher jumped back in some alarm. The black panel swung shut. Greatly daring one of my companions stretched out his hand and the panel swung open again. A force which we could not resist propelled us forward. Uselessly fighting against every step, we were -somehow – made to enter through the panel doorway. Inside it was dark, as dark as the darkness of a hermit’s cell. Still under the irresistible compulsion (tvang), we moved in many feet and then sat on the floor. For minutes we sat shivering with fright. As nothing happened we regained some calmness, and then we heard a series of clicks, as if metal were tapping and scraping on metal.” Involuntarily I shivered. I had the thought that I probably would have died of fright! My Guide continued.
The story continues in part 6: Link to part 6
