Dense virgin wood surrounded us. In the high, already yellow grassthe trail wound hardly noticeable in among bushes and trees justbeginning to drop their many colored leaves. It is the old,already forgotten Amyl pass road. Twenty-five years ago it carriedthe provisions, machinery and workers for the numerous, nowabandoned, gold mines of the Amyl valley. The road now wound alongthe wide and rapid Amyl, then penetrated into the deep forest,guiding us round the swampy ground filled with those dangerousSiberian quagmires, through the dense bushes, across mountains andwide meadows. Our guide probably did not surmise our realintention and sometimes, apprehensively looking down at the ground,would say:
"Three riders on horses with shoes on have passed here. Perhapsthey were soldiers."His anxiety was terminated when he discovered that the tracks ledoff to one side and then returned to the trail.
"They did not proceed farther," he remarked, slyly smiling.
"That's too bad," we answered. "It would have been more lively totravel in company."But the peasant only stroked his beard and laughed. Evidently hewas not taken in by our statement.
We passed on the way a gold mine that had been formerly planned andequipped on splendid lines but was now abandoned and the buildingsall destroyed. The Bolsheviki had taken away the machinery,supplies and also some parts of the buildings. Nearby stood a darkand gloomy church with windows broken, the crucifix torn off andthe tower burned, a pitifully typical emblem of the Russia oftoday. The starving family of the watchman lived at the mine incontinuing danger and privation. They told us that in this forestregion were wandering about a band of Reds who were robbinganything that remained on the property of the gold mine, wereworking the pay dirt in the richest part of the mine and, with alittle gold washed, were going to drink and gamble it away in somedistant villages where the peasants were making the forbidden vodkaout of berries and potatoes and selling it for its weight in gold.
A meeting with this band meant death. After three days we crossedthe northern ridge of the Sayan chain, passed the border riverAlgiak and, after this day, were abroad in the territory ofUrianhai.
This wonderful land, rich in most diverse forms of natural wealth,is inhabited by a branch of the Mongols, which is now only sixtythousand and which is gradually dying off, speaking a languagequite different from any of the other dialects of this folk andholding as their life ideal the tenet of "Eternal Peace." Urianhailong ago became the scene of administrative attempts by Russians,Mongols and Chinese, all of whom claimed sovereignty over theregion whose unfortunate inhabitants, the Soyots, had to paytribute to all three of these overlords. It was due to this thatthe land was not an entirely safe refuge for us. We had heardalready from our militiaman about the expedition preparing to gointo Urianhai and from the peasants we learned that the villagesalong the Little Yenisei and farther south had formed Reddetachments, who were robbing and killing everyone who fell intotheir hands. Recently they had killed sixty-two officersattempting to pass Urianhai into Mongolia; robbed and killed acaravan of Chinese merchants; and killed some German war prisonerswho escaped from the Soviet paradise. On the fourth day we reacheda swampy valley where, among open forests, stood a single Russianhouse. Here we took leave of our guide, who hastened away to getback before the snows should block his road over the Sayans. Themaster of the establishment agreed to guide us to the Seybi Riverfor ten thousand roubles in Soviet notes. Our horses were tiredand we were forced to give them a rest, so we decided to spendtwenty-four hours here.
We were drinking tea when the daughter of our host cried:
"The Soyots are coming!" Into the room with their rifles andpointed hats came suddenly four of them.
"Mende," they grunted to us and then, without ceremony, beganexamining us critically. Not a button or a seam in our entireoutfit escaped their penetrating gaze. Afterwards one of them, whoappeared to be the local "Merin" or governor, began to investigateour political views. Listening to our criticisms of theBolsheviki, he was evidently pleased and began talking freely.
"You are good people. You do not like Bolsheviki. We will helpyou."I thanked him and presented him with the thick silk cord which Iwas wearing as a girdle. Before night they left us saying thatthey would return in the morning. It grew dark. We went to themeadow to look after our exhausted horses grazing there and cameback to the house. We were gaily chatting with the hospitable hostwhen suddenly we heard horses' hoofs in the court and raucousvoices, followed by the immediate entry of five Red soldiers armedwith rifles and swords. Something unpleasant and cold rolled upinto my throat and my heart hammered. We knew the Reds as ourenemies. These men had the red stars on their Astrakhan caps andred triangles on their sleeves. They were members of thedetachment that was out to look for Cossack officers. Scowling atus they took off their overcoats and sat down. We first opened theconversation, explaining the purpose of our journey in exploringfor bridges, roads and gold mines. From them we then learned thattheir commander would arrive in a little while with seven more menand that they would take our host at once as a guide to the SeybiRiver, where they thought the Cossack officers must be hidden.
Immediately I remarked that our affairs were moving fortunately andthat we must travel along together. One of the soldiers repliedthat that would depend upon the "Comrade-officer."During our conversation the Soyot Governor entered. Veryattentively he studied again the new arrivals and then asked: "Whydid you take from the Soyots the good horses and leave bad ones?"The soldiers laughed at him.
"Remember that you are in a foreign country!" answered the Soyot,with a threat in his voice.
"God and the Devil!" cried one of the soldiers.
But the Soyot very calmly took a seat at the table and accepted thecup of tea the hostess was preparing for him. The conversationceased. The Soyot finished the tea, smoked his long pipe ............