A fairly broad road led out from Sharkhe through the mountains andon the fifth day of our two weeks' march to the south from themonastery we emerged into the great bowl of the mountains in whosecenter lay the large lake of Koko Nor. If Finland deserves theordinary title of the "Land of Ten Thousand Lakes," the dominion ofKoko Nor may certainly with justice be called the "Country of aMillion Lakes." We skirted this lake on the west between it andDoulan Kitt, zigzagging between the numerous swamps, lakes andsmall rivers, deep and miry. The water was not here covered withice and only on the tops of the mountains did we feel the coldwinds sharply. We rarely met the natives of the country and onlywith greatest difficulty did our Kalmuck learn the course of theroad from the occasional shepherds we passed. From the easternshore of the Lake of Tassoun we worked round to a monastery on thefurther side, where we stopped for a short rest. Besides ourselvesthere was also another group of guests in the holy place. Thesewere Tibetans. Their behavior was very impertinent and theyrefused to speak with us. They were all armed, chiefly with theRussian military rifles and were draped with crossed bandoliers ofcartridges with two or three pistols stowed beneath belts with morecartridges sticking out. They examined us very sharply and wereadily realized that they were estimating our martial strength.
After they had left on that same day I ordered our Kalmuck toinquire from the High Priest of the temple exactly who they were.
For a long time the monk gave evasive answers but when I showed himthe ring of Hutuktu Narabanchi and presented him with a largeyellow hatyk, he became more communicative.
"Those are bad people," he explained. "Have a care of them."However, he was not willing to give their names, explaining hisrefusal by citing the Law of Buddhist lands against pronouncing thename of one's father, teacher or chief. Afterwards I found outthat in North Tibet there exists the same custom as in North China.
Here and there bands of hunghutze wander about. They appear at theheadquarters of the leading trading firms and at the monasteries,claim tribute and after their collections become the protectors ofthe district. Probably this Tibetan monastery had in this bandjust such protectors.
When we continued our trip, we frequently noticed single horsemenfar away or on the horizon, apparently studying our movements withcare. All our attempts to approach them and enter intoconversation with them were entirely unsuccessful. On their speedylittle horses they disappeared like shadows. As we reached thesteep and difficult Pass on the Hamshan and were preparing to spendthe night there, suddenly far up on a ridge above us appeared aboutforty horsemen with entirely white mounts and without formalintroduction or warning spattered us with a hail of bullets. Twoof our officers fell with a cry. One had been instantly killedwhile the other lived some few minutes. I did not allow my men toshoot but instead I raised a white flag and started forward withthe Kalmuck for a parley. At first they fired two shots at us butthen ceased firing and sent down a group of riders from the ridgetoward us. We began the parley. The Tibetans explained thatHamshan is a holy mountain and that here one must not spend thenight, advising us to proceed farther where we could considerourselves in safety. They inquired from us whence we came andwhither we were going, stated in answer to our information aboutthe purpose of our journey that they knew the Bolsheviki andconsidered them the liberators of the people of Asia from the yokeof the white race. I certainly did not want to begin a politicalquarrel with them and so turned back to our companions. Ridingdown the slope toward our camp, I waited momentarily for a shot inthe back but the Tibetan hunghutze did not shoot.
We moved forward, leaving among the stones the bodies of two of ourcompanions as sad tribute to the difficulties and dangers of ourjourney. We rode all night, with our exhausted horses constantlystopping and some lying down under us, but we forced them everonward. At last, when the sun was at its zenith, we finallyhalted. Without unsaddling our horses, we gave them an opportunityto lie down for a little rest. Before us lay a broad, swampyplain, where was evidently the sources of the river Ma-chu. Notfar beyond lay the Lake of Aroung Nor. We made our fire of cattledung and began boiling water for our tea. Again without anywarning the bullets came raining in from all sides. Immediately wetook cover behind convenient rocks and waited developments. Thefiring became faster and closer, the raiders appeared on the wholecircle round us and the bullets came ever in increasing numbers.
We had fallen into a trap and had no hope but to perish. Werealized this clearly. I tried anew to begin the parley; but whenI stood up with my white flag, the answer was only a thicker rainof bullets and unfortunately one of these, ricocheting off a rock,struck me in the left leg and lodged there. At the same momentanother one of our company was killed. We had no other choice andwere forced to begin fighting. The struggle continued for abouttwo hours. Besides myself three others received slight wounds. Weresisted as long as we could. The hunghutze approached and oursituation became desperate.
"There's no choice," said one of my associates, a very expertColonel. "We must mount and ride for it . . . anywhere.""Anywhere. . . ." It was a terrible word! We consulted for but aninstant. It was apparent that with this band of cut-throats behindus the farther we went into Tibet, the less chance we had of savingour lives.
We decided to return to Mongolia. But how? That we did not know.
And thus we began our retreat. Firing all the time, we trotted ourhorses as fast as we could toward the north. One after anotherthree of my companions fell. There lay my Tartar with a bulletthro............