The inhabitants of Urianhai, the Soyots, are proud of being thegenuine Buddhists and of retaining the pure doctrine of holy Ramaand the deep wisdom of Sakkia-Mouni. They are the eternal enemiesof war and of the shedding of blood. Away back in the thirteenthcentury they preferred to move out from their native land and takerefuge in the north rather than fight or become a part of theempire of the bloody conqueror Jenghiz Khan, who wanted to add tohis forces these wonderful horsemen and skilled archers. Threetimes in their history they have thus trekked northward to avoidstruggle and now no one can say that on the hands of the Soyotsthere has ever been seen human blood. With their love of peacethey struggled against the evils of war. Even the severe Chineseadministrators could not apply here in this country of peace thefull measure of their implacable laws. In the same manner theSoyots conducted themselves when the Russian people, mad with bloodand crime, brought this infection into their land. They avoidedpersistently meetings and encounters with the Red troops andPartisans, trekking off with their families and cattle southwardinto the distant principalities of Kemchik and Soldjak. Theeastern branch of this stream of emigration passed through thevalley of the Buret Hei, where we constantly outstrode groups ofthem with their cattle and herds.
We traveled quickly along the winding trail of the Buret Hei and intwo days began to make the elevations of the mountain pass betweenthe valleys of the Buret Hei and Kharga. The trail was not onlyvery steep but was also littered with fallen larch trees andfrequently intercepted, incredible as it may seem, with swampyplaces where the horses mired badly. Then again we picked ourdangerous road over cobbles and small stones that rolled away underour horses' feet and bumped off over the precipice nearby. Ourhorses fatigued easily in passing this moraine that had been strewnby ancient glaciers along the mountain sides. Sometimes the trailled right along the edge of the precipices where the horses startedgreat slides of stones and sand. I remember one whole mountaincovered with these moving sands. We had to leave our saddles and,taking the bridles in our hands, to trot for a mile or more overthese sliding beds, sometimes sinking in up to our knees and goingdown the mountain side with them toward the precipices below. Oneimprudent move at times would have sent us over the brink. Thisdestiny met one of our horses. Belly down in the moving trap, hecould not work free to change his direction and so slipped on downwith a mass of it until he rolled over the precipice and was lostto us forever. We heard only the crackling of breaking trees alonghis road to death. Then with great difficulty we worked down tosalvage the saddle and bags. Further along we had to abandon oneof our pack horses which had come all the way from the northernborder of Urianhai with us. We first unburdened it but this didnot help; no more did our shouting and threats. He only stood withhis head down and looked so exhausted that we realized he hadreached the further bourne of his land of toil. Some Soyots withus examined him, felt of his muscles on the fore and hind legs,took his head in their hands and moved it from side to side,examined his head carefully after that and then said:
"That horse will not go further. His brain is dried out." So wehad to leave him.
That evening we came to a beautiful change in scene when we toppeda rise and found ourselves on a broad plateau covered with larch.
On it we discovered the yurtas of some Soyot hunters, covered withbark instead of the usual felt. Out of these ten men with riflesrushed toward us as we approached. They informed us that thePrince of Soldjak did not allow anyone to pass this way, as hefeared the coming of murderers and robbers into his dominions.
"Go back to the place from which you came," they advised us withfear in their eyes.
I did not answer but I stopped the beginnings of a quarrel betweenan old Soyot and one of my officers. I pointed to the small streamin the valley ahead of us and asked him its name.
"Oyna," replied the Soyot. "It is the border of the principalityand the passage of it is forbidden.""All right," I said, "but you will allow us to warm and restourselves a little.""Yes, yes!" exclaimed the hospitable Soyots, and led us into theirtepees.
On our way there I took the opportunity to hand to the old Soyot acigarette and to another a box of matches. We were all walkingalong together save one Soyot who limped slowly in the rear and washolding his hand up over his nose.
"Is he ill?" I asked.
"Yes," sadly answered the old Soyot. "That is my son. He has beenlosing blood from the nose for two days and is now quite weak."I stopped and called the young man to me.
"Unbutton your outer coat," I ordered, "bare your neck and chestand turn your face up as far as you can." I pressed the jugularvein on both sides of his head for some minutes and said to him:
"The blood will not flow from your nose any more. Go into yourtepee and lie down for some time."The "mysterious" action of my fingers created on the Soyots astrong impression. The old Soyot with fear and reverencewhispered:
"Ta Lama, Ta Lama! (Great Doctor)."In the yurta we were given tea while the old Soyot sat thinkingdeeply about something. Afterwards he took counsel with hiscompanions and finally announced:
"The wife of our Prince is sick in her eyes and I think the Princewill be very glad if I lead the 'Ta Lama' to him. He will notpunish me, for he ordered that no 'bad people' should be allowed topass; but that should not stop the 'good people' from coming to us.
"Do as you think best," I replied rather indifferently. "As amatter of fact, I know how to treat eye diseases but I would goback if you say so.""No, no!" the old man exclaimed with fear. "I shall guide youmyself."Sitting by the fire, he lighted his pipe with a flint, wiped themouthpiece on his sleeve and offered it to me in true nativehospitality. I was "comme il faut" and smoked. Afterwards heoffered his pipe to each one of our company and received from eacha cigarette, a little tobacco or some matches. It was the seal onour friendship. ............