Raiders of the Lost Novel - Part 5

Fortune and glory kid, fortune and glory...

"You know, Junge, I hate civilization..."

—BROOKE DOLAN

Schäfer and Dolan first met in Hanover in 1930. Dolan had dropped out of Princeton to lead an international expedition to the Far East for the Academy of Natural Sciences in Philadelphia. He had come to Germany to seek out the world's leading expert on pandas, Hugo Weigold. Weigold told him about a promising young scientist by the name of Ernst Schäfer, and suggested he join the expedition.

Dolan began to hunt down the precocious young man—'Wer ist Schäfer?" The future explorer was still living at home in a room chock full of birdcages and wild squirrels. The two men quickly hit it off, even though Dolan's uncouth manners appalled the Schäfer family. At dinner, he drained their wine cellar, put his muddy boots on their table linen, and when he finally went to bed he slept soundly with the boots still on. (HC, p. 41)

The above passage should give you some idea of their early relationship, as well as Dolan's character. They made an odd couple—the hard-drinking, hard-living, sloppy, charismatic American with his "wild Irish blood," and the disciplined, vain, and temperamental Schäfer who was prone to fits of rages and was a harsh taskmaster to both men and animals even back then. Yet their partnership was a success, and they became friends.

Being a naturalist at this time was basically being a professional hunter—killing animals for a living in the name of "science." This was all the rage among upper-class wealthy Americans in the early twentieth century, most famously Teddy Roosevelt and his sons Kermit and Ted Jr. Kermit and Ted had themselves traveled to the Far East on a hunting expedition and were friends of Dolan’s. At this time, the deep reaches of Asia were among the most mysterious places on earth and an ideal place for explorers. All sorts of exotic creatures were waiting to be discovered. The discovery of fossils like "Java Man" even led to speculation that Asia was where humans had originated (the focus on Africa came later). As with Schäfer, for Dolan, hunting was "une grade passion, half bestial, wholly religious." (HC: 538)

Accompanying Schäfer and Dolan were Wienert; Gordon Bowers, an American anthropologist and ethnologist, (whose views and methodology were disturbingly similar to Beger's); and a German cameraman and photographer, Otto Gneiser. It was a "young man's mission," with all the participants except for Weigold in their twenties. Dolan was clearly in charge. Although only a year older than Schäfer at 21, Dolan would always refer to him as Junge ('youngster', or, more colloquially, 'kid'). Before this expedition, Schäfer had never travelled much beyond the hills of Hamburg.

The expedition departed from Berlin by train in January 1931. They traveled though Poland to Moscow, and from there they took the Trans-Siberian Railway to China. They departed the train in Tientsin and boarded a Japanese steamer to take them across the South China Sea to Shanghai.

Shanghai at this time was carved up between concessions of competing European powers. Its backstreets were a world-renowned haven for vice, lined with nightclubs, casinos, opium dens and brothels. While the rich partied, the poor died like flies—thirty-two thousand bodies were collected yearly from the streets.

From Shanghai they took a steamer up the the Yangtze to Chongqing in Szechuan ('Four Rivers'). The steamer was captained by a "somewhat decayed" Englishman named Nichols. They traveled during the day and anchored at night. During the day, Yangtze dolphins (Baiji) shadowed the ship (they have since gone extinct). The journey was hazardous—the crew were equipped with rifles and had to use them frequently during ambushes. "At night there were blood-curdling cries and the crackle of rifle fire." (HC: 48)

From its headwaters in Tibet to its mouth in the East China Sea, where it dumps three hundred million tons of alluvium each year, the Yangtze travels nearly four thousand miles. In its lower reaches it is wide and flat, but travel higher and it becomes fast, turbulent and dangerous. On its long journey from a mountain pool in Tibet, at 18,750 feet, to its delta, the river falls nearly four miles. That's eight feet every mile on average. To travel up the Yangtze means to ascend dizzyingly higher—and deeper into China's geological and human past...As they steamed on past Nanking, Wuhu, Kiukang and Kuling a savage world opened up before Schäfer's eyes. At a stop downstream, he watched as 'seven wretches' were executed by the sword in the open street. He saw 'screaming insane cripples, and mutilated beggars who slowly fade away in the excrement and dirt.'..Europeans and Americans steamed their way up and down the river building their Bunds and consulates and draining the wealth from one of the oldest empires on earth. (HC: 47-49)

In Chongqing, Dolan and Weigold spent several days organizing a caravan, hiring over a hundred Sherpas. They were delayed by fighting between the local warlords. When it finally came time to depart, Dolan and Bowles handed out the Stars and Stripes to their Sherpas. Not to be outdone, Schäfer improvised a German flag for his own porters. Their destination was the “Balkans of Central Asia.” (HC: 46)

From Chongqing, the expedition crossed the ‘Red Basin’, heading north-west towards Chengdu. From Chengdu, they took the narrow, winding road to Tachienlu, the “gateway to Tibet.” Setting up camp in the Tibetan highlands, they hunted and shot specimens, eventually bagging their elusive giant panda. Christopher Hale tells us that they were accompanied by a Chinese orphan boy who had taken a liking to Dolan, so we even have our Short Round (in this case called Bauze, or 'leopard). In June, they crossed the border into ‘Inner Tibet’, a lawless region adjacent to the Chinese border where bandits and nomads roamed and the Dalai Lama had little authority.

The party encountered a fascinating patchwork of mini-states, with their warlords, devil dancers. and incarnate abbots, as well as a floral paradise and a habitat for exotic fauna, notably the giant Panda. The expedition divided at Ta-tsien-lu [Tachienlu], where Schäfer veered southward onto the lamaist kingdom of Muli, whose existence had only recently been reported by Joseph Rock, the National Geographic's man in Western China. Dolan journeyed east through the Minya Konka range into the country of the Lolos, a non-Chinese people almost as little known as those in Muli. (TOS: 535)

The expedition reunited in Tachienlu. Dolan, Bowles, and Gneiser left for Shanghai, where they shipped the collections back to the United States and Germany; while Schäfer and Weigold headed south towards Burma. As they were about to part, Dolan confessed to Schäfer, “You know Junge, I hate civilization and it might be true that I behave like a domestic dog...” (HC: 55)

By mid December Schäfer and Weigold had recrossed the Yangtze River and headed toward the Likiang mountains. There they encountered the famed National Geographic explorer, Joseph Rock. In a scene straight out of a movie, the bedraggled, unkempt explorers stumbled into Rock's camp and marveled at how he lived like a king, with a personal chef preparing his favorite Austrian dishes, a selection fine wines, porters to carry everything for him, and even a folding bathtub from Abercrombie and Fitch. After making their way across India, they took a car to Calcutta. "After covering 2,500 miles in close to two years, Dolan and his charges all emerged safely, either in Burma or Haiphong." (TOS: 535)

Anything Goes

This expedition firmly established Schäfer's reputation in Germany as an explorer and adventurer in his early twenties. He penned a book about his adventures entitled Mountains, Buddhas and Bears (Oh My!). He resumed his studies in Göttingen. Then, two years later in 1934, he received a telegraph from his American friend "Brooky": Quite a large Tibet expedition, want to come? Of course Schäfer said yes immediately. But a few weeks later, he happened to spot a newspaper headline which gave the real reason for the mission. "BOY EXPLORER GOES BERSERK!" it read.

After their adventures wandering around the Far East, Dolan had tried to readjust to polite society and normal life, but once again had a hard time fitting in. He had done the expected thing and married Emilie Gerhard, a polite society girl from another well-to-do family (after breaking off the engagement several times), and enrolled in Harvard to finish his studies. But, like the stereotypical American adventurer, he battled with the bottle, which he would his entire life. In a drunken stupor, he had broken into a friend's house during the night and completely trashed the place, smashing precious artifacts including a Ming Dynasty vase in an orgy of destruction that was estimated to cost $50,000. Only the Dolan family name and an expensive lawyer kept him out of jail.

Schäfer realized what had happened. After the embarrassing escapade, Dolan "needed to take a long leave from high society in the wilderness to let the grass grow over the thing." (HC: 60-61)

When Dolan and Schäfer met again on the quay in Shanghai in 1934, Dolan was outfitted in the uniform of a first-aid corps set up to assist the citizens of Shanghai after the Japanese attack in 1932. In true adventurer fashion, we learn that Dolan carried around with him a large Colt revolver strapped to his belt which he used to shoot up glasses in Shanghai bars (!!!). "I'm going Tibet to find truth," he told Schäfer, "if you help me with a scientific collection as well, even better." (TOS: 535) Dolan had also brought along his new bride Emilie to China with him.

The expedition would be a three-man affair. The third man would be an evangelist missionary named Marion Duncan, a decade older than the other two and a "walking encyclopedia on China." The prim, upright missionary was often taken aback by Schäfer's nationalistic Nazi views. They were "an odd trio of adventurer, missionary and SS Officer." (HC: 64)

The expedition lingered in Shanghai for two months while they pursued the necessary permits. While they were waiting, Schäfer decided to head south to Hangzhou where the Panchen Lama was staying in order to gain an audience (which he would refer to years later). The Panchen Lama seemed to think that roving nomadic bands roamed Germany as well as Tibet, and asked if Schäfer had been attacked on his journey to China. The Lama had letters written up for him that would supposedly gain access to all of Tibet (which proved to be worthless).

On a hot, steamy evening in July 1934, the crew set off from Shanghai downriver aboard the SS Ichang (the exact same boat they had taken on their previous journey, although Nichols was no longer there). As they steamed through the Three Gorges, Schäfer and Dolan sat on the deck and practiced their "Ngolok Cry'—a whinnying distress call—much to the annoyance of Emilie (and presumably everyone else on board). When they reached Chonqing, at this point Emilie had had enough of their “Boy’s Own” adventure and boarded a plane back to Shanghai. The monsoon was quickly approaching, and they realized they had to start their journey to Chengdu right away.

They hired 110 coolies for 1,100 Mexican dollars and headed west. Halfway there, the porters we too stoned from opium to go any further, so Dolan replaced them with cars and trucks. The monsoon rains made the roads virtually impassible and tensions ran high among the three expedition leaders. They rolled into Chengdu "bickering like infants." In Chengdu they encountered the local warlord, Liu Hsang, who gave them letter of introduction and wanted to know if there were still "wild people with long hair" in Tibet and whether they could bring some back with them.

The expedition continued west toward the Tibetan highlands hampered by torrential rains, washed-out mountain paths and flooded rivers. The caravan became mired in knee-deep mud. “Our caravan looks like a stretched out funeral procession,” noted Schäfer grimly. Six months had passed since they left Shanghai. Tensions between Schäfer and the Americans once again ran high. Their destination was Sining via Jyekundo, the main trading post of eastern Tibet. To get there they would have to avoid both robber bands and fighting between the Tibetans and Chinese factions.

Crossing the border, their first initiation to Tibet was witnessing a sky burial. They traveled as far as Litang. At Litang they learned that incessant fighting between different factions—Chinese Communists and Nationalists, Tibetans, and various tribal peoples—had shut down the route west to Batang. The route north was also closed. The mission seemed doomed at this point, but Dolan came up with an idea.

Unwilling to give up, Dolan came up with a plan. They would send all their specimens back to Tachienlu and announce that they were retreating, but they would secretly break out northwards. Soon they were joined by anyone in Litang who wanted to leave town; altogether there now some six hundred yaks, fifty horses, and fifty armed men. One morning before dawn, Schäfer, Dolan and Duncan led the great procession out of Litang. It took until early afternoon for the last of the yaks to pass through the city gates onto the Batang Road. (HC: 66)

Along the way to Batang the caravan encountered a princess from the Washi tribe ("a beautiful forty-year-old woman of aristocratic appearance" is how Schäfer describes her), who was mourning for her dead husband. She could not have contact with men during the mourning period, but the foreigners apparently did not count as men. The Tibetan men in the caravan were far luckier—visitors were were permitted to sleep with the "suffering heroines" of the tribe. Schäfer committed a major faux pas when he offered a can of sardines to the princess. Since fish consume the corpses of the dead, to eat fish was to become a cannibal. Another rift formed between the men. Schäfer dined alone in his tent and sulked.

Their caravan rolled into Batang, where they found a sack of mail waiting for them. They hunkered down at Marion Duncan's mission compound to see out the winter. During this time, Schäfer and Dolan stalked the foothills around Batang hunting quarry. Dolan's supreme achievement was bagging a takin, a large, hairy goat-like ungulate which lived in the Himalayan foothills: "His supreme moment was felling a takin bull, its pelt rusty gold, its huge body spanning nine feet from its low rump to its massive head and bow-shaped horns, a giant even by takin standards." (TOS: 538) Dolan was also impressed with Schäfer's shooting ability: "Consistently he shoots as the average hunter shoots once in a lifetime and bears the memory for the remainder."

In mid-March 1935, they once again they encountered difficulties trying to depart from Batang. The road north passed through the territory of the Seven Tribes (the Deshohdunpa), who were thirsty for revenge after the local warlord, General Ma, beheaded three men captured from a raiding party (much to Duncan's horror). To avoid this, they decided to travel east first to the lands of the Lingkharshee before heading north.

The caravan rode out of the east gate of Batang, past the naked, beheaded corpses of the unfortunate bandits, striking out for Koko Nor territory. One evening, a raiding party of Lingkharshee galloped between their tents, "deftly picking up any any loose object, including Schäfer's notebook, which was soon lost 'within the cloak of a burly nomad.'" (HC: 68) Schäfer sent a man to retrieve it.

On the way to Jyekundo they decided to divert to pass by Amne Machin, a sacred mountain and pilgrimage site once believed to be the world’s tallest peak. To do so, however, they would have to pass thorough the territory of the fierce Ngoloks: "The Ngoloks were reputed to be the most bloodthirsty of the nomadic tribes with a nasty habit of sewing their victims into yak coats and leaving them to roast in the midday sun." (HC: 69) They managed to avoid Ngolok brigands and catch a glimpse the sacred peak, which everyone described as a transcendent experience. They finally arrived at Jyekundo "exhausted and in poor physical shape." (HC: 69) Their porters immediately began running up debts in the bars and whorehouses.

Jyekundo would turn out to be the undoing of the expedition. The Chinese governor, Governor Ma, refused to let the expedition proceed any further westward. Duncan learned that Communist brigades were bearing down on Tachienlu, cutting off the escape route to the south. The porters rebelled, and the expedition was too low on funds to pay them off. Tensions between the men boiled over. After a tense nineteen days, the governor finally relented. At this point the expedition was down to thirteen yaks and some horses and mules carrying rice, flour and tsampa.

Three days later, the governor changed his mind and sent a detachment of Dungan soldiers armed with machine guns to demand that they return to Jyekundo. A tense standoff ensued.

According to Schäfer, at this point Dolan reacted "like a crazy person." He hatched a plan. Avoiding the main roads, he would proceed on foot to Sining—the provincial capital—where he would enlist the aid of the local warlord, Ma Pu-fang, and return with help. "We'll meet in two months or in hell!" he declared, and set off with two companions.

Schäfer and Duncan spent a few days encamped at the Drijyuh Monastery and then slowly made their way back to Jyekundo. What they didn't know was that Dolan's mission had failed. Despite losing his way, he had managed to make it alive to Sining, but just barely. Stumbling into the city, sick and exhausted, he was unable to recruit any help. His audience with the warlord was denied.

Dolan was indeed enduring the trek from hell. It took him thirty-five days to reach Sining across a terrain whose difficulties he grossly underestimated. The weather conditions were often extreme, and supplies of tsampa ran out after a week. When they could, he and his companions lived on the raw meat of kiangs (wild Tibetan asses), gazelles and bears. The rest of the time they starved. Dolan's mules collapsed and were left for the wolves. He waded across rivers, the water up to his neck, with his cartridges in his mouth. When he got to Sining, he was barefoot, emaciated, and very sick. And, after his month-long pilgrimage, Dolan could find no one to help. His mission had failed...After some days spent recovering he was able to hitch a lift on an aircraft—and flew out of the wilderness back to Shanghai. Here he rejoined his wife, recovered fully from his ordeal and lived it up as only he knew how. The memory of his companions faded from his mind. (HC: 71)

Seeing that help was not forthcoming, Duncan cautiously headed south to Tachinelu. He found the city empty, with the Red Army encamped across the river. He arranged to have the forty loads of animal carcasses and pelts transported to Yaan and floated down the Yangtze River to Chongqing. Returning to Jyekendo, he found no sign of Schäfer, who was hunting alone in the wilderness north of the city, and, not wanting to wait for the Communists' next move, he gathered what little remained of the expedition and headed back to Tachienlu. From there he took a steamer down the Yangtze to Shanghai, and then went to Beijing for a vacation. He never saw Schäfer again.

When Schäfer arrived back in Jyekundo, he found letters from Duncan and Dolan. He knew Dolan's mission had failed, but he did not know that Dolan had returned to Shanghai. Now Schäfer realized he had been abandoned by his companions—"the earth moved under him," in his words. He took the road south to Tachinelu, stewing with anger. Arriving at Tachienlu, he paid off what debts he could, gathered the remaining collections, and took a steamer down the Yangtze to a mission in Jachow on the edge of Sichuan.

Hearing that Schäfer was making his way back east, Dolan flew from Shanghai to the mission where Schäfer was staying. They had not seen each other for eight months. Christopher Hale describes what happened next:

As he steamed down the Yangtze, Schäfer steeled himself for a showdown...He bought several canisters of gasoline and had then delivered to the mission where Dolan was staying. As Dolan came to greet him, Schäfer stood his ground. His American friend looked well and rested, an ironic gleam in those disconcerting blue eyes which implied that there would be no apology, just an acceptance of fate.

As Dolan watched, puzzled, Schäfer silently made a pile of all the most precious skins the two adventurers had harvested from the ends of the earth. They included some of the most beautiful animals in the Himalayas...destined for a pride of place in German and American museums. Then he picked up a canister of gasoline and began pouring its contents slowly on the pyre. When he'd finished, he asked Dolan directly for an apology or he would burn every single thing.

Dolan embraced his friend. 'In Sining I was an ill man,' he said. 'If I had come back I would have been another burden for you. When I knew I had failed, retreating was the best action I could take. I know it seemed like an ignominious betrayal—but I knew, Junge, that you could make it alone.' Schäfer was disarmed. The two men shook hands. But, Schäfer said, writing after Dolan's death, 'I must admit frankly that I never understood Dolan's behavior even though I tried hard afterwards.' (HC, 72-73)

From the mission in Jachow they flew back to Shanghai, where Emilie Dolan was waiting to greet them. Schäfer returned to Philadelphia with Dolan to catalogue the huge number of specimens they had collected. He contemplated seeking an academic position in the United States, but ultimately decided against it and returned to Hamburg. The expedition once again cemented Schäfer's reputation in Germany as an explorer par excellence which brought him to the attention of Heinrich Himmler.

Years later, Schäfer would write critically of the mission: "the second expedition wasn't the result of careful planning and calm scientific reflection but was the result of crazy pranks of a young American who had too much money and was fed up with ordinary life and did not know how to use his surplus energy." (HC:61) Now in the SS, and with Himmler's patronage, he believed could do better.

There's evidence that Schäfer continued to carry a grudge. Years later, when he was attempting to adopt Kaiser, one of the reasons he gave to British officials was to have a trustworthy companion on future expeditions, unlike his American friend who had betrayed him: "'had not an American colleague on an earlier expedition said meet you at X (their objective) or in hell and the man had ratted and their next meeting had been at a hotel bar in Shanghai...' As Hale notes, “Despite his dollars, Dolan had never been forgiven." (HC: 294)

Schäfer and Dolan would never again meet face-to-face, but their fates would parallel each other. Three years after Schäfer, Dolan would arrive in the Holy City on a very different mission, this time for the President of the United States.

Next: The Stars and Stripes go to Tibet

Sorry for the audio quality, it was copied from a cassette.