(This is the first part of chapter 21 of the Nicholas
Roerich's book Shambhala.)
SUBTERRANEAN
DWELLERS
Once
on our travels we reached a half-ruined village. There was a glimmer of light
in only two houses. In a small room, an old man sat cleaning a utensil. He
became our host for the night. I asked him the reason for his isolation. He
answered:
-
“Every
one has departed. They have found more suitable sites for their dwellings. They
were strong and enterprising. Something new attracted them. But I knew that
nothing new exists on earth. And I did not wish to change the place of my
death.”
Thus
the strongest ones depart. The decaying ones patiently await death. Is this not
the story of all migrations, of all enterprises?
The
subject of the great migrations is the most fascinating in the history of
humanity. What spirit was it that thus moved whole nations and innumerable
tribes? What cataclysm drove the hordes from their familiar steppes? What new
happiness and privileges did they anticipate in the blue mist of the immense
desert?
On
rocks in Dardistan we saw ancient drawings. We also saw the same kind of
drawings upon the rocks near the Brahmaputra, as well as on the rocks of Orkon
in Mongolia, and in the tumuli of Minusinsk in Siberia. And finally we
discerned the same creative psychology in the halristningars of Sweden and of
Norway. And later we stopped in admiration before the mighty signs of the early
Romanesque which we found, based on the same creative aspirations of the great
migrators.
In
every city, in every encampment of Asia, I tried to discover what memories were
being cherished in the folk-memory. Through these guarded and preserved tales
you can recognize the reality of the past. In every spark of folk-lore, there
is a drop of the great Truth adorned or distorted.
Not
long ago we were too vain to appreciate these treasures of folk-lore. “What
could these illiterate people know!” But afterwards we learned that even the
great Rig-Vedas were written down only in the comparatively recent past, and
perhaps for many centuries they were passed down by word of mouth. We thought
that the flying carpet of fairy-tales belonged only to the children but we soon
recognized that although each fantasy, in its own individual way, weaves a
beautiful carpet ornamenting life, nevertheless this very carpet bears the
footprints of great reality of the past.
Stories
Among
the innumerable legends and fairy tales of various countries may be found the
tales of lost tribes or subterranean dwellers. In wide and diverse directions,
people are speaking of the identical facts. But in correlating them you can
readily see that these are but chapters from the one story. At first it seems
impossible that there should exist any scientific connection between these
distorted whispers under the light of the desert bonfires. But afterwards you
begin to grasp the peculiar coincidence in these manifold legends related by
peoples who are even ignorant of each other’s names.
You
recognize the same relationship in the folk-lores of Tibet, Mongolia, China,
Turkestan, Kashmir, Persia, Altai, Siberia, the Ural, Caucasia, the Russian
steppes, Lithuania, Poland, Hungary, Germany, France; from the highest
mountains to the deepest oceans. You will hear wonderfully elaborated tales in
the Tourfan district. They tell you how a holy tribe was persecuted by a tyrant
and how the people, not willing to submit to the cruelty, closed themselves in
subterranean mountains. They even ask you if you want to see the entrance of
the cave through which the saintly persecuted folk fled.
In
Kuchar you will hear of King Po-chan, ruler of the Tokhars, and how, when the
enemy approached, he disappeared with all the treasures of his kingdom, leaving
only sand, stones and ruins behind him.
In
Kashmir they speak of the lost tribe of Israel; some learned Rabbi may explain
you that Israel is the name of those who are searching, and that it
constitutes, not a nation, but the character of a people. In connection with
these beliefs they show you in Srinagar, the tomb of Blessed Issa—Jesus. You
may hear an elaborate story of how the Saviour was crucified but did not die
and his followers carried the body from the sepulcher and disappeared. Issa is
said to have recovered and spent the remainder of his life in Kashmir preaching
the same gospel. It is said that from this subterranean tomb, one senses
various fragrances. In Kashgar they will show you the tomb of the Virgin Mary
where the Holy Mother of Issa fled after the cruel persecution of her son.
Everywhere
you have different stories of travels and movements of great meaning. As you
continue with your caravan, this provides the greatest pleasure and the
greatest education. From Tourfan there also comes the pleasing tale of how
young people are sent for long trips as though on pilgrimages to acquire the
best knowledge of other lands.
Each
entrance to a cave suggests that some one has already entered there. Every
creek—especially the subterranean creeks—draw one’s fantasy to the underground
passages. In many places of Central Asia, they speak of the Agharti, the
subterranean people. In numerous beautiful legends they outline the same story
of how the best people abandoned the treacherous earth and sought salvation in
hidden countries where they acquired new forces and conquered powerful
energies.
In
the Altai Mountains, in the beautiful upland valley of Uimon, a hoary Old Believer
(Starover) said to me:
-
“I
shall prove to you that the tale about the Chud, the subterranean people, is
not a fantasy! I shall lead you to the entrance of the subterranean kingdom.”
On
the way through the valley surrounded by snowy mountains, my host told us many
tales about the Chud. It is remarkable that “Chud” in Russian has the same
origin as the word wonder.
So, perhaps, we may consider the Chud a wonderful tribe. My bearded guide told me:
-
“Once
upon a time, in this fertile valley lived and flourished the powerful tribe of
Chud. They knew how to prospect for minerals and how to reap the best harvest.
Most peaceful and most industrious, was this tribe. But then came a White Tzar
with innumerable hordes of cruel warriors. The peaceful, industrious Chud could
not resist the assaults of the conquerors, and not wishing to lose their
liberty, they remained as serfs of the White Tzar. Then, for the first time, a
white birch began to grow in this region. And, according to the old prophecies,
the Chud knew that it was the time for their departure. And the Chud, unwilling
to remain subject to the White Tzar, departed under the earth. Only sometimes
can you hear the holy people singing; now their bells ring out in the
subterranean temples. But there shall come the glorious time of human
purification, and in those days, the great Chud shall again appear in full
glory.”
Thus
the Old Believer concluded. We approached some low stony hill. Proudly he showed
me and said:
-
“Here
we are. Here is the entrance to the great subterranean kingdom! When the Chud
entered the subterranean passage they closed the entrance with stones. Now we
stand just beside this holy entrance.”
We
stood before a huge tomb encircled by great stones, so typical of the period of
the great migrations. Such tombs, with the beautiful remains of Gothic relics,
we saw in South Russian steppes, in foothills of the Northern Caucasus.
Studying this hill, I remembered how during our crossing of the Karakorum pass,
my sais, the Ladaki, asked me:
-
“Do
you know why there is such a peculiar upland here? Do you know that in the
subterranean caves here many treasures are hidden and that in them lives a
wonderful tribe which abhors the sins of earth?”
And
again when we approached Khotan the hoofs of our horses sounded hollow as
though we rode above caves or hollows. Our caravan people called our attention
to this, saying:
-
“Do
you hear what hollow subterranean passages we are crossing? Through these
passages, people who are familiar with them can reach far-off countries.”
When
we saw entrances of caves, our caravaneers told us:
-
“Long
ago people lived there; now they have gone inside; they have found a
subterranean passage to the subterranean kingdom. Only rarely do some of them
appear again on earth. At our bazaar such people come with strange, very
ancient money, but nobody could even remember a time when such money was in
usage here.”
I
asked them, if we could also see such people. And they answered:
-
“Yes,
if your thoughts are similarly high and in contact with these holy people,
because only sinners are upon earth and the pure and courageous people pass on
to something more beautiful.”
Great
is the belief in the Kingdom of the subterranean people. Through all Asia,
through the spaces of all deserts, from the Pacific to the Urals, you can hear
the same wondrous tale of the vanished holy people. And even far beyond the
Ural Mountains, the echo of the same tale will reach you.
Often
you hear about subterranean tribes. Sometimes an invisible holy people is said
to be living behind a mountain. Sometimes either poisonous or vitalizing gases
are spread over the earth, to protect some one. Sometimes you hear how the
sands of the great desert shift, and for a moment disclose treasures of the
entrances of subterranean kingdoms. But none would dare to touch those
treasures. You will hear how, in the rocks, in the most deserted mountain
ranges, you can see openings which connect with these subterranean passes, and
how beautiful princesses once upon a time occupied these natural castles.
From
distances one might take these openings for eyries, because all which belongs
to the subterranean peoples is concealed. Sometimes the Holy City is submerged,
as in the folk-lore of Netherlands and Switzerland. And there is folk-lore that
coincides with actual discoveries in the lakes and along the sea coasts.
In
Siberia, in Russia, Lithuania and Poland, you find many legends and fairy tales
about giants who lived at times in these countries but afterwards, disliking
the new customs, disappeared. In these legends, one may recognize the specific
foundations of the ancient clans. The giants are brothers. Very often the
sisters of the giants live on the other shores of the lakes or the other side
of the mountains. Very often they do not like to move from the site but some
special event drives them from their patrimonial dwelling. Birds and animals
are always near these giants; as witnesses they follow them and announce their
departure.
Among
the stories of submerged cities, the story of Kerjenetz city in the Nijni
Novgorod section possesses a superb beauty. This legend has such an influence
on the people that even now, once yearly, numerous religious folk gather in
holy procession around the lake, where the holy city was submerged. It is
touching to see how vital are the legends, vital as the bon-fires and torches
of the procession itself, which resounds with holy songs about the city.
Afterward, in complete silence, around the bonfires these people await and
listen for the festal bells of the invisible churches.
This
procession recalls the sacred festival on the Manasarowar Lake in the
Himalayas. The Russian legend of Kerjenetz is attributed to the time of the
Tartar yoke. It is related that when the victorious Mongol hordes approached,
the ancient Russian city of Kerjenetz was unable to defend itself. Then all the
holy people of this city came to the temple and prayed for salvation. Before
the very eyes of the merciless conquerors, the city solemnly sank into the
lake, which thenceforth was regarded as sacred.
Although
the legend speaks of the time of the Tartar yoke, you can distinguish that the
essential bases of the legend is far more ancient and you can distinguish the
traces of the typical effects of migration. This legend not only gave rise to
many variants but even inspired many modern composers and artists. Every one
may remember the beautiful opera of Rimsky-Korsakoff, “The City of Kitege.”
The
endless Kurgans of the southern steppes retain around them numerous stories
about the appearance of the unknown warrior, nobody knows from whence. The
Carpathian Mountains in Hungary have many similar stories of unknown tribes,
giant-warriors and mysterious cities. If, without prejudice, you patiently
point out on your map all the legends and stories of this nature you will be
astonished at the result. When you collect all the fairy-tales of lost and
subterranean tribes, will you not have before you a full map of the great
migrations?
An
old Catholic missionary casually tells us that the site of Lhassa was sometimes
called Gotha.
OBSERVATION
Many of these
stories are legends, but it has also been discovered that ancient populations inhabited
underground cities.
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