VII
MONGOLIA
HE Siberian Express rushed rapidly through the lowlands of
Siberia, with their dark virgin forests of pines and cedars.
Early in the morning the train passed Irkutsk and its cathe-
dral, rising against the luminous and transparent sky of early
dawn. Then came the beautiful southern shore of the great Lake Baikal
with its calm surface girded by mountain ranges. Beyond Baikal, the
country became mountainous and the train steamed around forest-clad
hills. It was Buriatia, and the Buriats in their pointed fur caps and blue
coats became more and more prominent on the station platforms. Late
in the evening the train reached Verkhne-Udinsk, the capital of the
Buriat Republic. Here we spent three busy days arranging for motor
cars to carry us and our baggage to Mongolia.
Early on the morning of Sepremser g we left Verkhne-Udinsk in
two Dodge cars, crossed the broad Selenga on a ferry, and continued
our journey along the motor road to Troitskosavsk, the last Russian
frontier town, once a wealthy colony of tea merchants. After two hours’
ride, the country became more wooded and we skirted fine pine forests,
Unfortunately the day was dull and rain clouds hovered over the hori-
zon, Drizzling rain and cold winds made the journey far from pleasant.
The road was soft and in several places we had to drive over the steppe
in order to avoid the sandy and muddy route, which was still under
repair. For the whole of the distance from Verkhne-Udinsk to the
frontier, it was almost deserted. Only once or twice did we see Buriats
on horseback or in small two-wheeled carriages.
In the afternoon we passed the Geese Lake with the famous Geese
Lake Monastery or da-tshang (Tib. gra-tshang). This is the reputed
seat of Buddhist learning in Transbaikalia, residence of the Buriat
Pandita khan-po, with a well-known printing establishment that issues
fine xylographs, greatly in demand throughout Buddhist Siberia, the
Astrakhan steppes, and Mongolia.
In the afternoon we reached the small Cossack settlement of Selen-
ginsk with its old church and several old houses dating back to the
time of the Decembrist movement, many of whose leaders were exiled140 TRAILS TO INMOST ASIA
to this frontier settlement. A few miles above Selenginsk, we crossed
the Selenga a second time. The crossing was dangerous, for the current
is very swift and there is no ferry. The cars are carried across on boats—
one car at a time. One of our cars almost slid into the river through a
careless movement of the driver, but the boatmen rescued it in time.
Approaching Troitskosavsk, the landscape becomes more hilly. The
road runs through a series of valleys surrounded by low sand hills
covered with sturdy pine forests. Our progress was very slow, for the
route was sandy, and after the recent heavy rains, extremely slippery
and muddy. Often we had to get out and push the cars along the
slopes. We were greatly handicapped by the lack of headlights on one
of the cars. About midnight, in complete darkness, we entered the town
of Troitskosavsk and drove to the hotel—a large white building, much
superior to the hotel accommodations at Verkhne-Udinsk.
Next day we rode out to the frontier post to have our passports
stamped. After all the necessary formalities were over, we crossed the
border and drove toward a small guardhouse occupied by Mongol sol-
diers in Mongol fur coats with modern rifles and sabers. One of them
jumped into our car and accompanied us to the city of Altin-Bulak—
the Mongol frontier town, formerly known under the name of Mai-ma-
ch’eng, the chief frontier emtrepdt of Chinese trade. The surrounding
barren hills and the peculiar transparent atmosphere strongly reminded
us of the central Asian highlands. We stood on a great geographical
divide; behind us lay the wooded country of Siberia, and in front of us,
as far as eye could see, spread the vast steppe country of central Asia.
Altin-Bulak is a small town with a floating Russian, Mongolian, and
Chinese population. During the severe fighting round Troitskosavsk
and Altin-Bulak in 1918-21, it was razed to the ground and its Chinese
population massacred. Since those bloody days, the number of Chinese
traders has greatly diminished and many of the big Chinese concerns
are closed or occupied by Mongols.
We had to spend a considerable time in the office of the Mongol
Frontier Commissioner, who was absent. It was a small wooden house
of semi-Chinese, semi-European architecture. Long tables filled the
rooms and on high tabourets sat the Mongol clerks. Most of them were
dressed in the national Mongol coats with large red and yellow sashes
and the large Mongol boots with repand toes or gutul. They quietly
woke their long Chinese pipes and attentively scrutinized us. One of
them walked about the room, stopped in front of us, and pensively re-A CAR CROSSING A FLOODED RIVER
ULAN BATOR OR URGA, GCAPTTAL OF MONGOLIAZUN-KUREN IN URGA
TSEREN DORJE, HEAD OF THE MONGOLIAN
GOVERNMENTMONGOLIA 131
marked “America!” One of the clerks, a young bichechi or secretary,
read aloud from a big scroll of paper. These Mongol clerks have a curi-
ous way of reading correspondence and documents aloud with a pecul-
iar intonation. Sometimes one sees several of them sitting together and
repeating aloud the texts of documents they are writing. One always
recognizes a yamen or government secretariat by the peculiar buzzing
sound of voices coming through the open windows and doors. These
governmental clerks are a class by themselves, the lay intellectuals of
Mongolia.
About four o’clock in the afternoon all formalities were over and we
once more started on the journey. We drove toward the immense and
boundless steppes of Mongolia, the country of the greatest conquetors
of Asia. The road imperceptibly rises and we crossed several low ridges
of grass-covered hills. Like a sparkling white necklace seem their sabur-
Shans or stupas—the true frontier signs of Buddhist Mongolia.
The crests of the hills are crowned with pine forests, which form a
dark line against the glowing sky of sunset. The country is completely
deserted. Only seldom does one see a Mongol horseman—a bright
colored coat, the high Mongol hat, picturesquely thrown backward,
and a sunburnt face with sharp-cut features, He halts for a moment,
directs an inquisitive glance toward us, and gallops away into the im-
mensity of his native steppes. Tomorrow the whole neighborhood for
several hundred miles around will know about the passage of several
foreigners on two gal-terge or “fire-chariots,” that is, motor cars. The
Mongols are in the habit of covering hundreds of miles visiting each
other. News often travels faster by horse than by telegraph or motor
car. The present Commander-in-Chief of Mongolia is known to ride
three hundred miles a day to pay a brief visit to friends in the steppe.
Strange is the country of Mongolia, One drives for hours and hours
without seeing anyone on the road save Russian and Chinese workmen
constructing the new motor road from Kiakhta to Urga.
In the evening and in full darkness, we reached the river Iro, one of
the tributaries of the Selenga. On the northern bank of the river stood
a number of Mongol felt tents, occupied by Russian and Chinese work-
men. We persuaded the ferryman to take us over and camped in the
open, close to some wretched Mongol tents, from which emerged two
old women covered with rags, The night was cold and we had to light
camp fires. White mist rose from the river surface and enveloped the
farther bank. To the south rose dark silhouettes of forest-clad moun-132 TRAILS TO INMOST ASIA
tains, In a nearby lamasery the lamas sounded the conchshell for the
evening prayer. :
Here on the banks of the Iro, a boy was recently born who mani-
fested strange faculties. Mysterious signs accompanied his birth. His
mother, a shaman woman, heard mysterious voices, and the boy him-
self uttered amazing prophecies about the future glory of Buddhist
Mongolia. The news of the appearance of the strange child spread like
lightning all over Mongolia. The lamas everywhere whispered about
the coming of a new incarnation of Je-tsiin tam-pa Hutukhtu. The
Government of the Republic was obliged to send out a commission of
inquiry and to post proclamations in Urga to calm the population. It is
sometimes difficult to discount rumors by printed words and the news
about the new Bogdo Gegen continues to agitate the minds of the
deeply religious Mongols. ‘This boy is not the only candidate to the
vacant throne of the Mongolian Pontiff. There is another—a boy
known to have appeared in inner Mongolia, who is now studying in
some of the lamaseries within the Chinese border.
We started before dawn and drove toward a low pass leading across
the forest-clad ridge, south of the river. The newly constructed road
was muddy and sandy. Our cars sank deep into the mud and had to be
rescued by horsemen.
From the summit of the pass one has a broad vista over the undulat-
ing country of rolling hills. The descent leads to the broad river valley
of the Bain-gol, a narrow rivulet with treacherous and swampy bed.
Several cars, traveling from Urga, stood stranded on its banks. They
had endeavored to cross the river but the water had filled the engines.
They all warned us that it was foolhardy to try to cross, but we decided
to make the effort. We piled all our baggage inside the cars and covered
the radiators with several sheets of waterproof canvas. Luckily several
horsemen came to our aid and offered their assistance. Ropes were tied
to the front of the cars and the riders tied the other ends to the pom-
mels of their saddles. When we were all set, the drivers started their
cars and with sudden wild shouts the horsemen rushed toward the op-
posite river bank. The water splashed high into the air, but the two cars
were safely pulled across the river.
From Bain-gol the road led over fine grazing lands. Herds of horses
and camels wandered on the slopes of the hills. We passed ruined stone
hovel—ruins of Chinese farmsteads destroyed during the civil war of
1919-41, The mountainous country continued up to the Khara-gol, anMONGOLIA 133
other important tributary of the Selenga, which waters a broad valley
with a flat bottom. A wooden bridge spans the river, by which we
camped for the night. It was clear but exceptionally cold, and in the
morning the small pools of water were coyered with a thin crust of ice.
We made an early start again and drove over 2 fine mountainous
country of grass-covered valleys and forest