Chapter VII: The Mongolian Plateau

July 15 saw us once more on the march. In Kalgan we had met Mr. F. A. Larson of the British and Foreign Bible Society, and he had very kindly lent us a cart and four ponies, together with the services of one of his Mongol servants, whom we called Wu Lama. This man spoke Chinese and was to act as guide to our party as far as Lama Miao, our objective. As our outfit was rather heavy, we had to hire another cart for the journey.

We started rather late in the day, so that we could only make T’u-ching-tzŭ that night. Our road lay north by north-west from Kalgan up a narrow valley, winding through the steep and rocky hills, which form a fringe to the great Mongolian Plateau.

Next day, after continuing up the valley ten li (3 miles) to its source, we began the difficult climb up the famous Han-nor-pa pass, which is one of the most rugged and hardest to negotiate in all North China. It took us five hours to do the four miles to the top of the pass, by which time the animals needed a good rest, so once more we put up with a short day’s run and decided to spend the night at a farm-inn named Huang-hua-p’ing.

On July 17 we made an early start, but heavy rains during the night had rendered the roads well nigh impassable, so that progress was very slow. We now headed in a northerly direction for a few miles, traversing low, rolling grasslands, cultivated here and there by Chinese settlers, whose farms could be seen dotted over the landscape. Several small lagoons were passed, whereon sheld-ducks and other waterfowl were plentiful. By nightfall we had done sixty li (about 25 miles), and put up at a small inn named Ts’a-han-k’u-luan. It must be stated that the li of the Mongolian Plateau are very much longer than those within the Great Wall. Sixty Mongolian li might be taken as the equivalent of eighty or ninety Chinese li. As far as we could make out the Mongolians themselves have no such standard of measurement, but measure distance by the time it takes a pony to do it, and reduce that to li. Thus in spring when the grass-fed ponies are lean and exhausted after the long winter, the distance in li between two places will be considered double or treble what it would be in the autumn when the ponies are fat and vigorous after a summer’s rich feeding. It was some time before we realized this, and as a result we were often very much confused at the answers we received when asking the distance to places.

Leaving Ts’a-han-k’u-luan on July 18, we continued over slightly undulating country till we reached a temple called Borrosun, where we stopped and had a cup of tea with a fat lama. Here we came upon the first Mongol encampments, for round the temple there were numerous tents, some of which were very fine indeed, denoting the presence of some petty chiefs. The lamas in the temple were very hospitable, serving us with their best and refusing with indignation our offer to pay for what we had received.

After leaving Borrosun we once more encountered cultivated fields and Chinese farms. Here wheat and mustard were being grown on a large scale. Sometimes a single field would stretch for a mile or more without a break. The Chinese settlers were all new in the country and many were still building shacks and huts to live in. We lunched at one of these farms, after which we continued in a north-north-easterly direction towards some low hills. As we crossed the first ridge of these we could see storm clouds gathering in the west, so that, when we reached a Mongol camp beside a small lake called Dahmun Nor, we hastened to pitch our tents. We were too late, however, and the storm struck us just as we had the first tent in position, but before it was pegged down. Everybody and everything was drenched, and momentarily the wind threatened to carry away the tent, on to which we were all hanging for dear life. The storm did not last long, however, so that when we got the stove going we were able to get our clothes and belongings dry before nightfall.

PLATE IX.

MONGOL WOMEN WEARING FULL DRESS HEAD-GEAR OF SILVER-MOUNTED CORAL AND
TURQUOISE.
]

MONGOL WOMAN IN ORDINARY HEAD-GEAR.

_Opposite p. 142._]
]

We were now well into Mongol territory and could no longer expect to find inns or any shelter except that of our own tents. The Mongols along this route, owing to their continual intercourse with travelling Chinese, who are ever on the alert to cheat them, were inclined to be inhospitable even to us. They generally refused to sell us even the commonest commodities, such as milk and argol, except at extortionate prices, preferring to lose the sale rather than reduce the price quoted by a single cash. This attitude is scarcely to be wondered at, for it is the last resource of the poor Mongol against the cunning and avarice of the Chinese, who above all other peoples are skilled in the art of cheating and swindling. Even as it is, the Mongols for decades past have been cheated out of land and cattle till many of them are reduced to abject poverty. The Chinese trader or dealer makes his appearance amongst the Mongols bringing with him all sorts of articles that he knows will appeal to their simple minds. These he sells at excessive rates, and refuses to accept immediate payment. He waits till he fancies his victims are not in a position to produce the necessary silver and then comes down upon them demanding payment. The unsophisticated Mongols, being unable to meet their creditor’s demands, allow him to pick from their herds. Needless to say, the trader takes the fullest advantage of this offer, and gets away with the pick of the herds at far below their worth, and the poor Mongols find themselves left without their best breeding stock, which they are unable to replace.

The same thing happens, only on a much larger scale, with regard to the land. In this case it is the princes and chieftains who sell their heritage for a mess of pottage. Thus there has sprung up between the Mongols and the Chinese a bitter hatred, which can only be wiped out with blood. On the one hand the Mongols preserve a sullen demeanour towards the Chinese, refusing them even the commonest civilities, treating them with overbearing hauteur and disdaining to hold any but the most necessary intercourse with them. The Chinese retaliate by driving harder bargains and getting the Mongols deeper into the toils of their usurious schemes, while amongst themselves they save face by heaping opprobrious epithets and vile names upon their victims.

The following day our road bore still more to the east. Shortly after leaving Dahmun Nor we saw some antelopes and at once set about stalking them. By keeping behind a low hill, we got close to them, but failed to bring one down. Further on we saw a few more, but could not get a shot at them, as they were out on the flat plain. The country through which we were now passing consisted of wide, perfectly flat plains bounded by low, grass-covered hills. Here and there were the usual lagoons so typical of this country. The water in these is often brackish and always muddy, owing to the fact that the camels, horses and cows wade into it during the noonday heat to escape the cruel flies with which the country swarms.

Indeed, so numerous and annoying were the flies, that our ponies were driven to the verge of madness. These winged pests ranged from the size of midges to that of large wasps, and all bit and stung. There was one kind with a long hooked tail that had a predilection for settling upon the noses of our ponies. So much did the poor animals dread this variety (doubtless a species of Warble fly), that they would go frantic if one were hovering round, flinging themselves upon their knees and rubbing their noses in the sand or grass. At nights, when the ponies were turned loose to graze, the smaller varieties of flies would settle in swarms upon them, so that one could sweep them up in handfuls of juicy pulp. At nights, too, the flies were replaced by cruel stabbing mosquitoes, especially if we camped near marshy ground. So tormented were our ponies that they could not find time to eat, while they tore the skin of their heads and necks into ribbons rubbing against the carts in frantic endeavours to find relief.

We stopped for lunch and midday rest at a large Mongol encampment named Oochinobar, where lived a local chief. This dignitary resided in a commodious brick building, though the rest of his people lived in the usual round felt tents. The chief sent us a present of cheese and sour cream. The latter went well enough on our bread, but the former was too full of hairs to recommend itself to us. However, at our request some bowls of fresh milk were brought, to which we did full justice. Night found us at another large temple named Marlagaisun, where we camped beside a fine well. Here we had some difficulty in obtaining fuel, but Wu Lama, by riding off to some Mongol camps, managed to secure a bagful of the precious commodity.

As is well known, the Mongols burn various kinds of cattle droppings, dried in the sun and called “argol.” As they use only open stoves, it can readily be understood how important it is to get the stuff to burn with as little smoke as possible. To do this great care must be exercised in gathering, drying and stacking the droppings. Beside every camp one may see huge piles of argol as large, if not larger, than the tents themselves. These consist mainly of cow droppings, which form an excellent and comparatively smokeless fuel, if treated in the right way. We found it burned well in our stove, giving out much heat.

The temple at Marlagaisun is typical of those prevalent in Mongolia. We were told that it harboured about seven hundred lamas, but this statement is hard to believe, though in any case the number was very large. On our journey in this region we passed no less than seven such temples, not including the two big ones at Lama Miao, and as each temple had hundreds of lamas, drawn from the surrounding encampments, it can be imagined why the Mongols are dying out. These lamas are entirely supported by contributions from the lay Mongols, and being a lazy, good-for-nothing lot, act as parasites, sucking the very life-blood out of the nation. The rule of the leading lamas is absolute over the people. It is kept up by skilful play upon the intense superstition and religious fanaticism of the Mongol nature, and it is probable that in no country in the world are the people so bound by priestcraft as in Mongolia. In addition to their despotic and parasitical rule, they have, by their vile and filthy lives, introduced amongst their people the scourge of terrible diseases, against which they have no remedy.

Can anything be more pitiful than the picture of this wretched people, by nature open-hearted, frank and intensely religious, degraded by a religion, itself sunk from lofty heights of philosophy into something little better than demon and lust worship, burdened with a host of sensuous priests, who spend their time between debauch and futile prayer, scourged by loathsome diseases, cheated and robbed by the emissaries and traders of a grasping neighbour on the south, and threatened, though they know it not, by a slavery worse than that of the Israelites in Egypt by an equally greedy neighbour on the north?[5] And yet it was this same people that under the famous Genghis Khan swept Asia and Eastern Europe in a stupendous conquest such as the world has never seen before or since. One may safely say that under a morally and socially sound government, freed from their superstitions and the burden of priestcraft, the Mongols would once more rise to be a great nation, filling a special place—the conquerors of the deserts—in the world’s economy. One cannot help wondering whether they are destined to fill that place, or, like their blood relations on the American Continent, are doomed to be exterminated by the onward march of civilization.

A call comes ringing over the deserts of Central Asia from the dwellers in the tents of Mongolia to the enlightened and humanitarian Powers of the West to help them in this their hour of need. Will those Powers answer the call and see that the Mongols are allowed that independence for which they are fighting? Will they keep within their borders those wolfish neighbours, either of whom, if they could embrace Mongolia in their cruel grasp, would assuredly crush the life out of her people? Will they send men to teach them the laws of hygiene and clean living; men to fight the ravages of disease, and men to give them a pure and uplifting religion? Or will they leave them to become a prey to intrigue, treachery and their own degrading worship?

Such thoughts as these crossed my mind, as I sat in the cool evening at the tent door, gazing upon the lofty pinnacles and quaint roofs of the great temple, silhouetted against the glowing western sky, and heard the dull roar of the great trumpets and the dismal wail of the priests at their vespers. The afterglow faded into night and the doleful dirge of the priests died away, and all was peace and calm, as the myriad stars peeped forth, and we turned in to enjoy a good night’s rest.

From Marlagaisun we travelled still north-eastward, reaching by noon a Chinese farm named Kao-chi-ke-san. Here for a distance of a few miles the country was under cultivation. We saw some more antelopes, but again failed to secure one. In the afternoon, after leaving the cultivated area behind, we encountered more hilly country, where some more antelopes were seen, one of which Warrington succeeded in bringing down. I wounded another, but the best efforts of our ponies failed to run him down. He led us into the hills, where we saw several small herds, which, however, we were unable to approach. We decided to camp in the vicinity, so pitched our tents beside a small encampment named Borlien, and spent the next two days hunting antelopes.

We met with only moderate success, Warrington securing two antelopes. On one of our rambles, while we were sitting on the hillside, two wolves sprang up from the long grass below us. We tried several shots, but failed to bring one down. As in the mountains west of K’uei-hua-ch’êng, we found the distances very deceptive, objects always appearing much nearer than they really were. We might have secured some more good heads in this district if we had known more about the habits of our quarry. As it was, during the two days we spent here we saw numerous small herds, which, however, we found the greatest difficulty in approaching.

Leaving Borlien on July 23 we continued in a north-easterly direction up a long, narrow valley, in which were large herds of camels, fattening up on the luxurious grass for their winter’s work. The bellies of some of these were enormously distended, and the humps of all of them were erect and full, showing a good store of nutriment already laid by. By noon we reached a small river, crossing which, we soon came upon a vast herd of antelopes, numbering several hundreds. We could not get nearer than about four hundred yards, so we tried several long shots. In this way I succeeded in securing one antelope—my first. Warrington shot another a little later. It was a wonderful sight to see so many antelopes, all tearing across the rolling prairies. Our firing made them split up into small herds, usually led by large does, and soon they were scattered for miles in every direction.

That night we reached Chinese settled country once more, putting up at an inn named Ha-pa-ch’iao. Here our road joined the main Kalgan-Lama Miao road, which we had left soon after leaving Huang-hua-p’ing, at the edge of the Mongolian Plateau. We had followed what is commonly known as the Mongol road, which lies to the north and west of the other, and has for its chief attraction the fact that there are fewer Chinese settlers, so that one can see more of the Mongols in their native haunts.

From Ha-pa-ch’iao to Pei-sui Nor, our next day’s journey, the road lay all the way through Chinese farms.

On July 25 we reached Lama Miao, after a short run from Pei-sui Nor of not more than twenty-five li. We pitched our tents on an open grassy stretch between the town and the two great temples, from which the place gets its name.

Lama Miao Ting, or Dolon Nor, is an extensive Chinese settlement composed mainly of squalid mud buildings, divided by filthy, slushy streets. Here and there are a few more pretentious houses of brick, though even these are badly built. There are a great many shops, which cater for the growing needs of the Mongols. The inhabitants are chiefly engaged in trading with the latter, exchanging grain and manufactured articles for such raw material as wool, skins, hides, and also horses and cattle. On the whole the town is very uninteresting.

On the other hand, the temples situated about a mile from the town are well worth a visit. They differ but little from the Lama Temple in Peking, with their extensive courtyards and wide and lofty halls, decorated with rich tapestries and gaudily painted idols, and hung with drums, trumpets, cymbals and gongs. There in a corner stands the great prayer wheel, which reels off a hundred or more prayers a minute, according to the energy of him who adopts this method of supplication. At the doors of the courts sit blind lamas, who, for a small consideration of a cash or two, will save him even that trouble, by revolving at a great speed miniature models of the great prayer wheel.

We arrived in Lama Miao just in time to witness the annual devil-dance, a most important function of a religious nature, which draws crowds of Mongols from all the surrounding districts. It began on July 26 and lasted three days. At about ten o’clock in the morning we went to one of the temples to watch the proceedings. Since dawn great crowds of Chinese had streamed past our tents towards the temples, while we could see caravans of Mongols flocking in from every direction. These now mingled in one great concourse in and round the temple precincts. The Mongols were dressed in flowing robes of brilliantly coloured silks, especially the girls and young women. These, resplendent in their beautiful dresses, heavily decorated and braided with gold and silver, moved about in little bevies, laughing, chatting and exchanging greetings with their friends and acquaintances. From their heads, which were adorned with beautifully worked caps and hats, hung the most gorgeous head-dresses of delicate silver tracery, holding together great strings of coral, turquoise and amber beads. Sometimes they hid these glories under bright scarlet, green or yellow kerchiefs, from which their pretty, mischievous, smiling faces peeped out, and if they did not cause an extra flutter in the hearts of the young bucks standing round, it says much for the stolidity of the Mongol.

When two parties met, an elaborate business of exchanging snuff bottles by way of greeting took place; nor was the ceremony complete till every member of one party had exchanged snuff bottles with every member of the other.

The Mongols seemed to appreciate the religious significance of the function, and one and all went into the temples to perform little acts of worship, such as the tolling of a bell, the lighting of a candle, which they bought from the priest at an exorbitant price, or the prostrating of themselves before the great Buddha, which sat, sublimely indifferent, at the head of the hall. The Chinese on the other hand were little more than sight-seers, only a very few performing any acts of worship.

Outside the temple there were peep-shows, conjurers and quack medicine sellers, one of whom advertised the efficacy of his wares by cutting himself with a knife and stopping the flow of blood by the application of a white powder. This he subsequently sold at the rate of three packets for four cents. He netted about twenty cents, after having talked for an hour, and made an incision in his thigh half an inch deep and three inches long. How often he repeated this performance during the day it would be interesting to know. There were, besides, the usual medley of food-stalls and tea-booths.

On entering the temple a brilliant scene unfolded itself before us. Hundreds of brightly clad Mongols swarmed across the courts, up the great flight of stone steps and into the lofty prayer hall. Following the crowd, we entered the hall. Here all was confusion, as the lamas were busily engaged in shifting great pieces of furniture into position for the coming ceremony. Presently some little boys, dressed up as living skeletons and ferocious demons, appeared upon the scene, and with long canes began to drive out the Chinese and lay Mongols.

Leaving the hall, we took up our stand upon a side verandah, and prepared to take snapshots of the proceedings. Presently the great twenty-foot trumpets began to blare out their mournful dirges, to the accompanying boom of colossal drums. A long, low wail rose from the lamas, sitting upon little mats in long rows between the great red pillars of the prayer hall. Every now and then the wail would rise into a mighty volume of sound, while trumpets, smaller than the great roaring instruments on the balcony above, would add their clarion notes to the swelling chorus of wild music. Then again all sound would gradually die away to a dull drone, like that of a hive of bees on a summer’s day, only to rise once more till the great hall would ring again. All this while the little skeletons and demons were flitting about amongst the gay crowds, striving vainly to keep order, while ever and anon a fat priest would sally forth and take a look at the rapidly-darkening sky.

PLATE X.

PROCESSION LEAVING PRAYER HALL, LAMA MIAO, MONGOLIA.

_Opposite p. 154._]
]

Soon the rain began to fall, at first a gentle sprinkle, then a steady shower, which finally developed into a tropical deluge. As if by magic the great courts were cleared of the yellow and red lamas, the laughing bevies of Mongol damsels and the blue-gowned Chinese, while the little devils were jostled about, much to their annoyance and disgust, as the crowds, regardless of blows and curses, sought shelter upon the extensive verandahs of the prayer hall. It rained for an hour, during which time the mournful dirges continued unabated. At the end of that time the clouds dispersed and the lamas, dressed in long, yellow robes and high, helmet-like caps, issued from the hall in a double line. Two, bearing a tall, pyramid-shaped object, surmounted with a grinning human skull, preceded the rest. They walked side by side bearing aloft the object of veneration, in such fashion that it passed over the heads of a long line of kneeling Mongols.

Having arrived at the outermost court, the long procession of monks found to its dismay that it was flooded a foot deep with water. This brought the proceedings to a close, so we returned to camp, without being able to watch the actual devil dance. From what I could gather the devil dance itself would have been a sight well worth seeing. It is performed by lamas and acolytes dressed up as skeletons, demons and mythical beasts such as dragons, unicorns and horned lions. The dancers draw up and execute figures not unlike those in some of our dances, to the accompaniment of cymbals, gongs, drums and trumpets.

The following day it rained incessantly, but on the 28th it cleared up long enough for the annual races to be held. We witnessed these, and were much amused to see Chinese grooms from Shanghai dressed in all the splendour of their European masters’ cast-off riding clothes, racing neck and neck with gaudily dressed Mongols. A good turf track had been marked out, supposedly the size of the Shanghai course, and the races were conducted as nearly as possible on the same lines as those at the Treaty Port meetings.

These races are not to be compared with the long twenty, forty or sixty li races indulged in by the Mongols, in which the jockeys are young boys and girls, who ride barebacked. Unfortunately we just missed seeing one of these proper races, which took place at a neighbouring chief’s encampment a few days later. Regarding one of these races we were told an amusing story. A certain Mongol chief offered a prize of one hundred taels (about £15) to the winner of a fifty li race (about fifteen miles). He also offered a second prize of twenty taels. The race was to be between two camps along a certain route not yet specified. It so happened that in the district there was a pony which hitherto had remained unbeaten. On the day of the race the owner of this pony was purposely given wrong instructions as to the route to be taken, being directed to take a rough and roundabout way to the winning post. All the other competitors, including the jockeys of the chief’s own race ponies, were of course directed along the correct route. At the given signal the ponies dashed off on their long cross country race, the champion well in the lead. To the surprise of every one this pony, after taking the long route, arrived at the winning post before any of the others were in sight. The owner naturally claimed the first prize, but the wily chief got out of the difficulty by disqualifying the pony for the first prize, because it had taken the wrong course; but he very graciously awarded it the second prize. The first prize went to the owner of the second pony reaching the winning post, which in this case happened to belong to the chief himself.

The night after the races was spent by us in great anxiety, as the rain fell in torrents hour after hour, and we were momentarily threatened with inundation. A small, dry, stream bed, which looked harmless enough when we camped upon its bank, now assumed the proportions of a river, the edge of which crept slowly to within a foot of our tent. Every moment I expected the banks of the main stream above us to give way and flood the plain. At about ten o’clock we heard a cry, and rushing out were just in time to rescue a luckless carter and his oxen from drowning in the torrent that rushed past our tent. The wheels of the carts were washed away, but the bullocks, aided by us, were able to drag the empty wagons to the shore. The carter afterwards told us, as he sat drying himself over the stove, that he had driven carts to and fro across this creek bed all his life and had never known it like this before.

We struck camp next day with a view to finding safer camping ground, but in crossing the main stream experienced the misfortune of having our cart capsize. Everything was soaked, and it was with difficulty that we saved several articles, which were being swept away on the flood. This catastrophe necessitated our returning to Lama Miao, where we put up at an inn and managed to get our things dry. Unfortunately a whole set of photographs of the races and scenes at the devil dance was ruined.

Next day, July 30, we left the vicinity, striking due west towards some unusually high hills. The heavy rains, as usual, had damaged the roads, so that we experienced great difficulty in climbing the slopes of the hills. Finally we pitched camp in a green pasture near the top of the divide. Here there was an unusual amount of vegetation, and we were surprised to find roe-deer in the district. A badger was also seen, besides some partridges. This was the highest point we reached on the whole journey, the top of the divide being about 5,000 feet above sea level and 1,000 feet above Lama Miao.

The following day we descended once more on to rolling grasslands, reaching by mid-afternoon a rather large river called Chanding Gol, which we afterwards found out was the continuation of the river we crossed two days before reaching Lama Miao. We had great difficulty in crossing it, in its present swollen state, but finally succeeded without mishap, and, traversing some ugly swamps, pitched camp within the ruins of an ancient town called Sui-lang-ch’êng. The walls of this place were now only grass-covered mounds, while a grassy hummock in the centre marked the site of the central tower. Otherwise there was not a sign of former buildings. These ruins it is believed date from the time of the Grand Khan Kublai.

From Sui-lang-ch’êng we continued our journey a little south of west, crossing low divides and wide valleys, and camping at suitable watering-places. Nothing of peculiar interest occurred. The long grass round the wells and Mongol camps was found to give shelter to numbers of hares, while now and then we would get a shot at an antelope. Warrington succeeded in getting a nice head one day with a good pair of horns. Crossing a low divide we saw a fine buck silhouetted against the evening sky. It was Warrington’s turn to have a shot, I having wounded and lost a nice animal the day before. Accordingly he left his pony with me and climbed to the point where the antelope had disappeared. He was lucky enough to find on the other side a herd of ten or a dozen bucks, two of which he bowled over. He emptied his magazine trying to get a third, but failed to do so. Without re-charging his rifle he went to examine the two antelopes he had dropped. One of these jumped up and bounded off after the rest of the herd as though unhurt. When I arrived on the scene it was too late to do anything, especially as there was no blood trail to follow.

Between Sui-lang-ch’êng and Tabool, which place we reached on August 7, our stopping-places were Harborrogar, Tavunghaila, Nartainchao, Oola Hutaga and Hoborrow, all of which, except the last, were small Mongol camps. Hoborrow is the seat of a petty chieftain. We stayed one day at Oola Hutaga on account of rain. Here the hills are high and inclined to be rugged.

Tabool or Tabo Ola (meaning Five Hills) is the summer home of our friend, Mr. F. A. Larson,[6] whose work is amongst the Mongols. On our arrival we received a very warm welcome from this kindly missionary family. It had been my purpose to make a collection of mammals in this district, so we gladly accepted a kind invitation to stay as long as we could. A fine large Mongol tent was placed at our disposal, and throughout our stay we were very comfortable.

PLATE XI.

BIG PRAYER WHEEL, LAMA MIAO, MONGOLIA.
]

DEVIL-DANCERS, LAMA MIAO, MONGOLIA.

_Opposite p. 160._]
]

We at once set out a lot of traps, and were rewarded with a good collection of small mammals, including about ten different species, namely, the hare (_Lepus tolai_), the pika (_Ochotona dauurica_), the allactaga (_Allactaga mongolica_), the gerbil (_Meriones unguiculatus_), the suslik (_Citellus mongolicus umbratus_), the striped hamster (_Cricetulus griseus obscurus_), Campbell’s hamster (_Phodopus campbelli_), two voles (_Microtus angustus_ and _Microtus warringtoni_) and the common mouse (_Mus wagneri mongolium_).

Mr. Larson very kindly placed his ponies at our disposal, our own being rather worn out with the long journey, and he arranged for several very successful antelope hunts, so that we secured eight good skins for our collection. Altogether we shot eleven antelopes.

The method adopted by our Mongol guides in hunting these antelopes gave us excellent sport and required good horsemanship, a quick eye and rapid and accurate shooting. Following is a typical example of a day’s hunting in these parts.

Starting early in the morning we rode westward for a mile or so till we reached Mr. Larson’s herd of ponies, where we changed our mounts. For a few minutes there was a scene of confusion as the herders chased the chosen ponies, but at last they were caught and saddled, and away we rode toward some low, rocky hills. How those ponies flew! regardless of holes, rocks, tufts of “nigger head” or swamps! They took everything in their stride, while to right and left as we passed through clumps of sage brush or sedge grass, the startled hares skipped out of our way, or the ground squirrels dived into their holes, giving shrill little shrieks of indignation and kicking up spirts of sand behind them. In an amazingly short time we had covered the five or six miles to the hills, climbing which, we obtained an extended view of the valleys and plains. Soon we spotted a herd of antelopes. These caught sight of us almost as soon as we saw them, and splitting up they made off at top speed. Warrington, Larson and one of the Mongols went off after the main herd, while I, with the other Mongol, followed two fine-looking bucks, that had broken away in another direction. It must be understood that the plains are gently undulating, so that hollows and low eminences alternate like the great rollers of the gently heaving ocean. Presently our two antelopes disappeared into one of these hollows. At once we urged our ponies to their utmost, and by so doing gained considerably upon our quarry without alarming them further. When next we caught sight of them, they were not more than eight hundred yards distant.

They now cut a semicircle round us and once more started off, soon being lost to view in another hollow, along which they travelled at an easy trot. Taking a parallel hollow, we again pressed our ponies, gaining another two hundred yards upon the antelopes, before we saw them again crossing the low rise between the two hollows. By remaining perfectly still we escaped observation. The moment the antelopes were out of sight, we again set spurs to our ponies. After a short sharp gallop I dismounted and crept up to the top of the rise, but did not fire as my quarry were still rather far, and were trotting gently along the next rise. By galloping, hiding and scouting in turn we arrived at last within easy range and I took a shot. I hit the antelope, but did not drop him. Just at this moment a large herd swept by, from which I bagged a second antelope. My Mongol went after the first animal, which at once set off towards the hills, and, easily out-distancing his pursuer, hid amongst some rocks and sage brush. An hour or more we spent in searching for the wounded animal. The Mongol climbed to the top of the highest peak in the little range, from which point of vantage he made out the tiniest movement in some sage brush fully a mile distant. Returning to where I was waiting he directed me to the right spot, and before long I had the satisfaction of bowling over my buck, as he sprang up from the brush and made for the adjacent ridge. My companions also succeeded in wounding an antelope, which, however, escaped and was not secured till next day.

One day while out with us, Mr. Larson surprised and shot a badger, which he presented to our collection. This with the antelopes brought our collection of mammals up to twelve species.

On finding that my traps were being robbed of their catches, I baited one with the remains of a pika, and next day had the satisfaction of putting my hands on the robber, a beautiful, white-headed falcon. I tried to tame this bird, as I had done a young golden eagle we had picked up one day. My efforts proved a failure, so at last I gave the bird his liberty once more. On another occasion we found a sheld-duck in a hole in some rocks. It was long past the breeding season, but from the down and grass in the hole, we came to the conclusion that this was her nest. Subsequently we verified the facts that the ruddy sheld-duck nests in holes in rocks at no small distance from water, while the common sheld-duck nests in long burrows in the banks of the lagoons so common throughout this country.

A few birds were added to our collection which, however, were in very poor feather. There were also some nice butterflies to be seen, amongst which was a rather fine swallow-tail.

While staying with Mr. Larson we had several opportunities of watching the Mongol cowboys at their work in sorting, catching, branding and breaking the wild little ponies in their herds. Instead of a lariat or lassoo, the Mongol uses a long twenty-foot rod, little thicker than a fishing rod, at the end of which is a looped thong of raw-hide. With this he is very dexterous and can soon catch the wildest pony. Slipping the loop over the pony’s head while going at top speed, the rider gives it a twist to prevent it slipping. Then he jumps on to his own pony’s crupper, bracing his thighs against the back of the saddle. His mount at once slows down, and it is a strong animal, that being thus caught, can continue to drag his captors about or break the raw-hide thong. Some of these cowboys are so dexterous that they can put a complete halter upon the pony they are after, by a double turn of the wrist as they slip the loop over the animal’s head.

Branding and saddling are simple processes and are done without throwing the pony. Often a pony shows great fight when being broken, and being small, with a very short neck, is very hard to manage. Still the Mongols are superb horsemen and seldom let an animal get the better of them.

Mr. Larson, who for fifteen years has travelled about amongst the Mongols, and who is greatly respected and looked up to by them, introduced us to some of his neighbours and friends. These simple, kindly people treated us with great hospitality whenever we had occasion to drop into one of their tents for a drink of milk. Always the best they had was produced. Cheese and cakes would be spread before us, and though it was only with the greatest difficulty that we could bring ourselves to partake of these unwholesome looking delicacies, we always did our best for fear of offending our hosts. The one thing that I could not accustom myself to was mare’s milk, though Warrington always managed a good big bowl of it; while Larson thought as much of it as the Mongols themselves did. Mare’s milk is thicker than cow’s milk and has a sour taste even when quite fresh. It is just as though some citric acid were put into ordinary milk. This milk is very much more sustaining than cow’s milk, it being possible for a man to subsist on it entirely, at the same time doing a strenuous day’s work. We were told that the Mongol cavalrymen, when on service, used mares and could live entirely upon their milk. If this be true one can readily see how useful they could become in military operations in such a country as Mongolia.

PLATE XII.

PONY LASSOED.
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BREAKING A WILD PONY.
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A HERD OF MONGOL PONIES.
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EXAMINING TEETH OF WILD PONY.
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WATCHING THE RACES.
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BRANDING WILD PONY.

_Opposite p. 166._]
]

All the Mongols in this district live in tents, which they move from time to time within a prescribed area. They often stay two, three or even eight years in the same spot. Their tents consist of wooden skeletons, the sides of which take the form of circular trellis work fences capable of being extended or drawn in, and the roofs of which resemble nothing so much as the framework and ribs of an immense umbrella. Over the whole sheets of wool felt are laid and tied in place by horse-hair ropes. These tents are capable of resisting very severe weather and extremely low temperatures. Indeed they must needs be so, for the plains are swept in summer by terrible storms, such as that described in the preceding chapter, while in winter the temperature falls below zero. A single low door in each tent affords ingress. The floors are of beaten cowdung, and are usually raised slightly in the centre, where an open iron stove holds the smouldering argols. In the tents of the wealthier Mongols there is a raised dais on the side away from the door, upon which the lord himself sleeps or the honoured guest is seated on elegant woollen rugs, while he sips salted and buttered tea. Round the sides of the tent are neatly placed small cupboards and red lacquer boxes, in which the household belongings are kept, while on the walls hang small mirrors, guns and powder-horns, whips, hobbles and other articles of daily use. The walls and roofs are always jet black from the smoke, which on fine days is allowed exit through holes in the roof. The inmates sleep round the fireplace on skins and felts.

For a living these Mongols raise horses and cattle almost exclusively, never cultivating the soil like those we saw in the Southern Ordos.

The district round Tabool is known as the Imperial Pastures, and is well suited to stock-raising. Though included on the map in the province of Chihli this district comes under the Banner of the Chagars.

The whole country from Lama Miao to Tabool reminded me of the North West Territories of Canada, with its stretches of rich and rolling grasslands, its numerous small lagoons and swamps and its herds of grazing stock, or, where the Chinese had settled, its wide expanses of wheat and mustard, growing luxuriantly upon the easily turned black mould.

The outcome of the present struggle for the ownership of this land cannot be foretold, but whoever gets it will be in possession of a fine territory, only waiting to be developed, by the sinking of deep and permanent wells and a system of irrigation, into the richest pastures, or the most fertile arable land. From the point of view of the agricultural development of this land, it would undoubtedly be best for the Chinese to secure it; but one would hate to bid farewell to the picturesque Mongols, and to see these wild, though simple, horsemen driven from this their heritage by the materialistic, sordid race whose proper home is south of the Wall.

We spent a very busy, but pleasant, fortnight at Tabool, after which we packed our things and began our return journey to Kalgan. Travelling in a southerly direction, we soon encountered Chinese settlements once more, and perforce bade farewell to the free grassy plains of Mongolia. From sixty li south of Tabool to the edge of the Plateau the land is all under cultivation. We spent the first night at a wayside inn called Ma-ni-t’u.

The following night we put up at a large village called Miao-t’an, after an uneventful journey.

Next day we passed the ruins of an ancient town called Hsin-hua-ch’êng. Here in a temple yard we saw two large automobiles and a wagon. One of the former was painted a bright yellow and had a figure of the Imperial Dragon on its sides. The others were painted grey. On inquiry we were told that they had been placed there in October, 1911, in readiness to carry the Manchu Imperial Family to Urga, in case the Revolutionaries ever succeeded in driving the Manchus from Peking. These fine vehicles now lay unsheltered and uncared for, rapidly falling into decay, sad emblems of the fallen Manchu dynasty.

August 21 found us once more in Kalgan, and two days later we reached Tientsin and the end of another year’s travel, sport and adventure on the Sino-Mongolian Frontier.