MY FIRST MISSION TO BHUTAN
dients, the more expensive having musk added as well as herbs.
After a day of pouring rain the morning opened brilliantly, and for the first time I saw the snows at the head of the Mo-chhu Valley, but it soon clouded over. The ladies who had entertained me at Ta-lo came to Poonakha and paid me a visit. After listening to the gramophone, with which they were much pleased, they went away, taking with them some silks for themselves and toys for their children. With them came the head of Ta-lo, the Tango Lama, a man about forty, and his younger brother, Nin-ser Talku, about eleven years old. In the evening the lama came back to dine with us, accompanied by the Thimbu Jongpen, but I do not know that on this occasion the dinner itself was an actual success, as the lama was not allowed to eat fowl or mutton, our principal stand-bys, and the Thimbu excused his want of appetite by saying he had already dined.
I have always found the Bhutanese, as well as the Sikhim people, very appreciative of English food, and as they are Buddhists, with no question of caste, they consider it an honour to be asked to meals, and are most anxious to return any hospitality they receive, in marked contrast to the natives of India, who are defiled and outcasted by such intercourse with strangers. It is a great factor in helping forward friendly relations, and although, out of politeness, they never refuse to taste wine, nearly all the officials are extremely abstemious. At Poonakha the others jocularly remarked that the Zung Donyer, being so much older, was a seasoned vessel, and must drink for the rest of them, and often passed the half-emptied glasses on to him to finish, but at the same time they kept a strict watch to see that the strange spirits whose strength they were unaware of should not overcome him.
After dinner I showed the Tango Lama a stereoscope, with views of Europe, and he so enjoyed it that I gave it to him when he called to take leave. He asked me if I had not
149
