Kailash Journal: Pilgrimage into the Himalayas - Softcover

We now faced the Gangapaani Valley, a frozen plain about half a mile across. As we entered the valley we were amazed to see a tent in the distance. Assuming this to be the camp of another group of pilgrims like ourselves, we hurried in that direction. When we reached the tent we were surprised to find instead that it was a tea kiosk set up only the night before by Pratap Singh and his son Gushall Singh.

It was a small tent, eight feet by eight feet at the base, and Pratap Singh made room for us by stepping out into the snow. All of us squeezed in and drank the tea he had made. It is not possible to put into words the sacrifice that Pratap Singh made by offering us his tent. There was a slight drizzle of rain outside and the wind was merciless. In a short time we pleaded that he also come inside. Fifteen of us huddled together in that miniature tent. Pratap Singh's saddle and provisions took up a quarter of the space, and there was also a fire. Still, to us this was a palace. There were no flaps to cover the open end of the tent and we suffered from pangs of cold in spite of the fire. Some of us were soon afflicted with headache from the lack of oxygen as well. The pills we had with us brought some relief. All of us were overcome by heavy fatigue and our bodies demanded sleep. I looked around the tent. Lying down was impossible; there was barely enough room to sit! Heads rolled to one side or the other as the pilgrims dozed off in whatever position they found themselves. Some leaned against the baggage beside them. Others slept upright, as if seated in meditation. I was sitting on a boulder which served as a base for one edge of the tent. Pratap Singh's baggage and saddle had been used to fill the opening between the tent and the rock; nevertheless, the cold wind beat through, numbing my buttocks. I rested my head between my legs and immersed myself in thoughts of the Lord.

Thus we prepared to spend the night, in a tent pitched on frozen snow, in a valley surrounded by snow-covered mountains, at an elevation of 18,500 feet, with rain beating down incessantly. There was no ventilation, and the fire used to make the tea smoked continuously. Those inside woke often, and drank the salted tea each time they woke.