TEMUDJIN BEGINS HIS MIGHTY CAREER
This intense rivalry between the descendants of Kabul and Ambagai was
the great ruling fact among Mongols at this epoch. Kabul and Ambagai
were second cousins, both being third in descent from Kaidu, that
little boy saved by his nurse from the Jelairs; the Kaidu whose
descendants were the great ruling Mongols of history. Kabul and Ambagai
are remarkable themselves, and are notable also as fathers of men who
sought power by all means which they could imagine and bring into
practice.
Yessugai with his brothers was now triumphant and prosperous. He was
terribly hostile to the Buyur Lake Tartars; he was ever watching the
Taidjut opposition, which though resting at times never slumbered. Once
in the days of his power Yessugai while hawking along the Onon saw a
Merkit named Yeke Chilaidu taking home with him a wife from the
Olkonots. Seeing that the woman was a beauty Yessugai hurried back to
his yurta and returned with his eldest and youngest brothers to help
him. When Yeke saw the three brothers coming he grew frightened, struck
his horse and rushed away to find some good hiding place, but found
none and rode back to the cart where his wife was. “Those men are very
hostile,” said the woman. “Hurry off, or they will kill thee. If thou
survive find a wife such as I am, if thou remember me call her by my
name.” Then she drew off her shift and gave it to Yeke. He took it,
mounted quickly and, seeing Yessugai approaching with his brothers,
galloped up the river.
The three men rushed after Yeke, but did not overtake him, so they rode
back to the woman, whose name was Hoelun. She was weeping. Her screams
when they seized her “raised waves on the river, and shook trees in the
valley.”
“The husband has crossed many ridges already, and many waters,” said
Daritai, Yessugai’s youngest brother, “no matter how thou scream he
will not come to thee, if thou look for his trail thou wilt not find
it. Stop screaming!” Thus they took Hoelun, and she became a wife then
to Yessugai.
Some months after the capture of Hoelun, Yessugai made attacks on the
Tartars, and among other captives took Temudjin Uge, a chieftain.
Hoelun gave birth to a son at that period [2] near the hill Dailiun
Baldak. The boy was born grasping a lump of dark blood in his fist very
firmly, and since he was born when Temudjin Uge was taken they called
the child Temudjin. After that Hoelun had three other sons: Kassar,
Hochiun and Taimuge, and one daughter, Taimulun.
When this first son had passed his thirteenth year Yessugai set out
with the lad on a visit to Hoelun’s brothers to find among them a wife
for him. When between the two mountains Cihurga and Cheksar he met one
Desaichan, a man of the Ungirs. “Whither art thou going O Yessugai?”
asked Desaichan. “I am going with my son to his uncles to look out a
bride for him among them.” “Thy son has a clear face and bright eyes,”
said Desaichan. “Last night I dreamed that a white falcon holding the
sun and the moon in its talons flew down to my wrist, and perched on
it. ‘We only know the sun and the moon through our eyesight,’ said I to
some friends of mine, ‘but now a white falcon has brought them both
down to me in his talons, this must be an omen of greatness.’ At the
right time hast thou come hither Yessugai with thy son and shown what
my dream means. It presages high fortune undoubtedly. I have a daughter
at home, she is small yet but come and look at her.”
Then he conducted the father and son to his yurta. Yessugai rejoiced in
his heart very greatly at sight of the girl, who in truth was a beauty.
She was ten years of age, and named Bortai. Next day Yessugai asked
Bortai of Desaichan as a bride for young Temudjin. “Will it show more
importance if I give her only after much begging,” asked the father,
“or will it show slight esteem if I give her in answer to few words? We
know that a girl is not born to remain in the household forever. I
yield her to marry thy son, and do thou leave him here for a time with
me.”
The agreement was finished and Yessugai went away without Temudjin. On
the road home he stopped at Cheksar and met Tartars who arranged there
a feast for him. Being hungry and thirsty from traveling he halted. His
hosts, who knew well that he had captured and killed very many of their
people, Temudjin Uge with others, had poison made ready, and gave it in
drink to him. Yessugai rode away and reached home in three days, but
fell ill on the journey, and his trouble increased as he traveled.
“There is pain in my heart,” said he, “who is near me?” At that time
Munlik, a son of Charaha, happened in at the yurta, and Yessugai called
him. “My children are young,” said he, “I went to find a bride for my
son Temudjin, and have found her. On the way home I was poisoned by
enemies. My heart is very sore in me, so go thou to my brothers and see
them, see their wives also. I give thee this as a duty; tell them all
that has happened. But first bring me Temudjin very quickly.”
Yessugai died [3] shortly after without seeing Temudjin.
Munlik went with all haste to Desaichan. “Yessugai,” said he, “wants to
see Temudjin, he has sent me to bring the boy.” “If Yessugai is
grieving let Temudjin go, and return to me afterward.” Munlik took
Temudjin home as instructed. In the spring following when Ambagai’s
widows were preparing the offerings to ancestors before moving to the
summer place they refused to share sacrificed meats with Hoelun, and
thus shut her out from their ruling circle and relationship. “Better
leave this woman here with her children, she must not go with us,” said
the widows. Targutai Kurultuk, who was then in authority, went from the
winter place without turning to Hoelun, or speaking. He with Todoyan
Jirisha his brother had enticed away Yessugai’s people. Munlik’s
father, Charáha, an old man, strove to persuade Targutai and his
brother to take Hoelun, but they would not listen to him or to any man.
“The deep water is gone, the bright stone is broken,” said Todoyan, “we
cannot restore them, we have nothing to do with that woman, and her
children.” And when Targutai with his brother was starting, a warrior
of his thrust a spear into Charáha’s back and the old man fell down
mortally wounded.
Temudjin went to talk with Charáha and take advice from him. “Targutai
and his brother,” said the old man, “have led away all the people
assembled by thy father, and our relatives.” Temudjin wept then and
turned to his mother for assistance. Hoelun resolved quickly; she
mounted, and, directing her attendants to take lances, set out at the
head of them. She overtook the deserting people and stopped one half of
them, but even that half would not go back with her. So Targutai and
Todoyan had defeated Hoelun with her children, and taken one half of
Yessugai’s people; the second half joined other leaders. But Hoelun, a
strong, resolute woman, protected her family and found means to support
it. Her children lived in poor, harsh conditions, and grew up in the
midst of hostility and hatred. To assist and give help to their mother
they made hooks out of needles and fished in the river Onon which was
close to their dwelling. Once Temudjin and Kassar went to fish with
their half brothers, Baiktar and Belgutai, Yessugai’s children by
another wife. Temudjin caught a golden hued trout and his half brothers
took it from him. He went then with Kassar to Hoelun. “We caught a
golden hued fish,” said they, “but Baiktar and Belgutai took it.” “Why
do ye quarrel?” asked the mother, “we have no friends at present; all
have deserted us; nothing sticks to us now but our shadows. We have no
power yet to punish the Taidjuts. Why do ye act like the sons of Alan
Goa, and quarrel? Why not agree and gain strength against enemies?”
Temudjin was dissatisfied; he wished Hoelun to take his side and go
against Baiktar. “The other day,” said he, “I shot a bird and Baiktar
took this bird also. He and his brother to-day snatched my fish from
me. If they act always in this way how can I live with them?” And he
turned from his mother very quickly. Both brothers rushed out, slammed
the door flap behind them and vanished.
When they were out they saw Baiktar on a hill herding horses. Temudjin
stole up from behind, and Kassar in front; they had taken arrows and
were aiming when Baiktar turned and saw them. “Why treat me like a
splinter in the mouth, or a hair on the eyeball?” asked he. “Though ye
kill me spare my brother, do not kill Belgutai.” Then he bent his legs
under him, and waited.
Temudjin from behind and Kassar in front killed Baiktar with arrows.
When they went home Hoelun knew by their faces what had happened. “Thou
wert born,” said she to Temudjin, “grasping blood in thy fingers. Thou
and thy brother are like dogs when devouring a village, or serpents
which swallow alive what they spring upon, or wolves hunting prey in a
snow storm. The injuries done us by the Taidjuts are terrible, ye might
plan to grow strong and then punish the Taidjuts. But what are ye
doing?”
Well might she ask, for she did not know then her wonderful son
Temudjin, for whom it was as natural to remove a half brother, or even
a brother, by killing him as to set aside any other obstacle. He who
worked all his life till its end to eliminate opponents was that day
beginning his mighty career, and his first real work was the murder of
his half brother Baiktar, whose father was his own father, Yessugai.
No matter who Temudjin’s enemies were he removed them as coolly as a
teacher in his classroom rubs figures from a black board. He struck
down the Taidjuts as soon as he felt himself strong enough, but before
he could do that his task was to weed out and train his own family. The
first work before him was the empire of his household. Neither mother,
nor brother, nor anyone must stand between Temudjin and his object; in
that he showed his great singleness of purpose, his invincible will
power, his wisdom in winning the success which his mind saw. The wisdom
of Temudjin in building up empire was an unerring clear instinct like
the instinct of a bee in constructing its honeycomb, or the judgment
and skill of a bird in finding the proper material, and weaving the
round perfect nest for its eggs and its little ones.
Temudjin began his career in real practice by killing his half brother
mainly through the hand of his full brother Kassar, who was famed later
on as the unerring strong archer, and who in time tried unsuccessfully
to rival the invincible Temudjin.
Temudjin was now master in a very small region, but he was master. His
mother and brothers did not dominate, or interfere, they assisted him.
The family lived for a time in seclusion and uninjured till at last
Targutai roused up his followers to action. “Temudjin and his brothers
have grown,” said he, “they are stronger.” Taking with him some
comrades he rode away quickly to find Temudjin with his family. From
afar Hoelun and her children saw the men coming and were frightened.
Temudjin seized his horse quickly, and fled before others to the
mountain. Belgutai hid his half brothers and sister in a cliff, after
that he felled trees to stop the horsemen. Kassar sent arrows to hinder
the Taidjuts. “We want only Temudjin, we want no one else,” said they.
Temudjin had fled to Mount Targunai and hidden there in dense thickets
whither they could not follow. They surrounded Targunai and watched
closely.
He spent three days in secret places, and then led his horse out to
flee from the mountain. When near the edge of the forest the saddle
fell. He saw that breast strap and girth were both fixed securely. “A
saddle may fall,” thought he, “though the girth be well fastened, but
how can it fall when the breast strap is holding it? I see now that
Heaven is protecting me.”
He turned back and passed three other days hiding; then he tried to go
out a second time—a great rock fell in front of him, blocked the road
and stopped his passage. “Heaven wills that I stay here still longer,”
said Temudjin. He went back and spent three other days on the mountain,
nine days in all without eating. “Must I die here alone and unheard
of?” thought he despairingly. “Better go at all hazards.” He cut a way
near the rock and led his horse down the mountain side.
The Taidjuts, who were watching outside very carefully, seized Temudjin
and took him to Targutai, who commanded that a kang be put on him, and
also fetters, and that he live one day and night in each tent. So he
passed from one family to another in succession. During these changes
he gained the close friendship of one Sorgan Shira, and of an old
woman. The old woman was kind and put rags on the kang at the points
where his shoulders were galled by it.
Once the Taidjuts made a feast near the Onon and went home after
sunset, appointing a boy to watch over the captive. Temudjin had been
able to break his own fetters, and seeing that all had gone home felled
the boy with the kang in which his own head and both hands were
fastened. Then he ran to a forest along the Onon and lay down there,
but, fearing lest they might find him, he rose, hurried on to the river
and sank in it, leaving only his face above water.
The boy soon recovered and screamed that the captive had fled from him.
Some Taidjuts rushed quickly together on hearing him, and searched
around everywhere. There was moonlight that evening and Sorgan Shira of
the Sulduts, who was searching with others, and had gone quite a
distance ahead, found Temudjin, but did not call out. “The Taidjuts
hate thee because thou hast wisdom,” said he to the captive, “thou wilt
die if they find thee. Stay where thou art for the present, and be
careful, I will not betray thee to any one.”
The pursuers went some distance while searching. “This man escaped
during daylight,” said Sorgan Shira, when he overtook them. “It is
night now and difficult to find him. Better search nearer places, we
can hunt here to-morrow. He has not come thus far,—how could he run
such a distance with a kang on his shoulders?”
On the way back Sorgan Shira went to Temudjin a second time. “We shall
come hither to-morrow to search for thee,” said he. “Hurry off now to
thy mother and brothers. Shouldst thou meet any man tell him not that I
saw thee.” When Sorgan Shira had gone, Temudjin fell to thinking and
thought in this manner: “While stopping at each tent I passed a day
with Sorgan Shira; Chila and Chinbo his sons showed me pity. They took
off the kang in the dark from my shoulders and let me lie down then in
freedom. He saw me to-day, I cannot escape till this kang is taken off,
he will do that, I will go to him. He will save me.”
So Temudjin went and when he entered the yurta Sorgan Shira was
frightened. “Why come now to me?” inquired he. “I told thee to go to
thy mother and brothers.” “When a bird is pursued by a falcon,” said
Temudjin, “it hides in thick grass and thus saves itself.”
“We should be of less value than grass were we not to help this poor
youth, who thus begs us,” said to himself Sorgan Shira. The boys took
the kang from the captive and burned it, then they hid Temudjin in a
cart which they piled high with wool packs and told Kadan, their
sister, to guard the wool carefully, and not speak of Temudjin to any
living person.
The Taidjuts appeared on the third day. “Has no one here seen that
runaway?” asked they of Sorgan. “Search where ye will,” was the answer.
They searched the whole yurta, then they searched around the house in
all places, and threw out the wool till they came to the cart box. They
were going to empty this also when Sorgan laughed at them, saying, “How
could any man live in a cart load of wool this hot weather?” They
prodded the wool then with lances; one of these entered Temudjin’s leg,
but he was silent and moved not. The Taidjuts were satisfied, and went
away without emptying the cart box.
“Thou hast come very near killing me,” said Sorgan to Temudjin. “The
smoke of my house would have vanished, and my fire would have died out
forever had they found thee. Go now to thy mother and brothers.”
He gave Temudjin a white-nosed, sorrel mare without a saddle, gave him
a boiled lamb which was fat because reared by two mothers, gave him a
skin of mare’s milk, a bow and two arrows, but no flint lest he strike
fire on the way, and betray himself.
Temudjin went to the ruins of his first house and then higher up the
Onon till he reached the Kimurha. He saw tracks near that river and
followed them on to Mount Baitar. In front of that mountain is a
smaller one, Horchukin; there he found all his brothers and Hoelun his
mother. Temudjin moved now with them to Mount Burhan. Near Burhan is
the high land Gulyalgu, through this land runs the river Sangur, on the
bank of that river is a hill called Kara Jiruge and a green colored
lake near the foot of it. At this lake Temudjin fixed his yurta,
trapped marmots and field mice, and thus they lived on for a season. At
last some Taidjut thieves drove off eight horses from Temudjin, leaving
only the white-nosed sorrel mare which Sorgan had given him, and on
which Belgutai had gone to hunt marmots. He came back that evening with
a load of them.
“The horses have been stolen,” said Temudjin. “I will go for them,”
said Belgutai. “Thou couldst not find them,” answered Kassar, “I will
go.” “Ye could not find them, and if ye found them ye could not bring
them back,” called out Temudjin, “I will go.”
Temudjin set his brothers aside as useless at that juncture, their
authority and worth were to him as nothing. Temudjin’s is the only, the
genuine authority. He rode off on the white-nosed sorrel mare, and
followed the trail of the eight stolen horses. He traveled three days
and on the fourth morning early he saw near the road a young man who
had led up a mare and was milking her. “Hast thou seen eight gray
horses?” asked Temudjin. “Before sunrise eight horses went past me, I
will show thee the trail over which they were driven.” Temudjin’s weary
beast was let out then to pasture; a white horse with a black stripe on
its spine was led in to go farther. The youth hid his leather pail and
his bag in the grass very carefully. “Thou art tired,” said he to
Temudjin, “and art anxious. My name is Boörchu, I will go with thee for
thy horses. Nahu Boyan is my father, I am his one son and he loves me.”
So they set out together and traveled three days in company. On the
third day toward evening they came to a camp ground and saw the eight
horses. “Stay at this place O my comrade,” said Temudjin, “I will go
and drive off those horses.”
“If I have come hither to help thee why should I stay alone and do
nothing?” asked Boörchu. So they went on together and drove off the
horses. The thieves hurried after them promptly and one, who rode a
white stallion, had a lasso and was gaining on the comrades. “Give me
thy quiver and bow,” said Boörchu, “I will meet him with an arrow.”
“Let me use the bow,” answered Temudjin, “those enemies might wound
thee.” The man on the white horse was directing his lasso and ready to
hurl it when Temudjin’s arrow put an end to his action. That night
Temudjin and Boörchu made a journey which would have taken three days
for any other men, and saw the yurta of Nahu Boyan in the distance at
daybreak.
“Without thy help,” said Temudjin, “I could not have brought back these
horses. Without thee I could have done nothing, so let us divide now
these eight beasts between us.” “I decided to help thee,” answered
Boörchu, “because I saw thee weighed down and weary from sorrow and
loneliness, why should I take what is thine from thee? I am my father’s
one son, his wealth is enough for me, more is not needed. If I should
take thine how couldst thou call me thy comrade?”
When they entered the yurta of Nahu Boyan they found the old man
grieving bitterly for Boörchu. On seeing them he shed tears and
reproached his son sharply. “I know not,” said Boörchu in answer, “how
I thought of assisting this comrade, but when I saw him worn and
anxious I had to go with him. Things are now well again, for I am with
thee, my father.” Nahu Boyan became satisfied when he heard the whole
story. Boörchu rode off then and brought the leather milk pail, killed
a lamb, filled a bag with mare’s milk, and tying it to the horse like a
pack gave Temudjin all to sustain him. “Ye are young,” said Nahu Boyan,
“be ye friends, and be faithful.” Temudjin took farewell of Boörchu and
his father. Three days after that he had reached home with his horses.
No words could describe the delight of his mother and brothers when
they saw him.
Temudjin had passed his thirteenth year when he parted from Bortai. He
went down the Kerulon now with his half brother, Belgutai, to get her.
Several years had passed and he had a wish to marry. Bortai’s father
rejoiced at seeing Temudjin. “I grieved,” said he, “greatly and lost
hope of seeing thee when I heard of Taidjut hatred.”
Both parents escorted their daughter and her husband. Desaichan after
going some distance turned homeward, as was usual for fathers, but
Bortai’s mother, Sotan, went on to Temudjin’s yurta.
Temudjin wished now to have Boörchu, wished him as a comrade forever,
and sent Belgutai to bring him. Boörchu said nothing to his father or
to any one; he took simply a humpbacked sorrel horse, saddled him,
strapped a coat of black fur to the saddle and rode away quickly to
Temudjin’s yurta; after that he never left him.
Temudjin removed from the Sangur to the springs of the Kerulon and
fixed his yurta at the foot of the slope known as Burji. Bortai had
brought with her a black sable cloak as a present to Hoelun. “In former
days,” said Temudjin to his brothers, “our father, Yessugai, became a
sworn friend, an ‘anda,’ to Togrul of the Keraits, hence Togrul is to
me in the place of my father, we will go now and show Togrul honor.”
Temudjin and two of his brothers took the cloak to Togrul in the Black
Forest on the Tula. “In former days,” said Temudjin as he stood before
Togrul, “thou didst become anda to Yessugai, hence thou art to me in
the place of my father. I bring thee to-day, my father, a gift brought
by my wife to my mother.” With these words he gave the black sable to
Togrul, who was pleased very greatly with the offering.
“I will bring back to thee thy people who are scattered,” said Togrul
in answer, “and join them again to thee, I will keep this in mind very
firmly, and not forget it.”
When Temudjin returned home the old man Charchiutai came from Mount
Burhan with the bellows of a blacksmith on his shoulders, and brought
also Chelmai, his son, with him. “When thou wert born,” said
Charchiutai to Temudjin, “I gave thee a lined sable wrap, I gave thee
too my son Chelmai, but as he was very little at that time, I kept the
boy with me and trained him, but now when he is grown up and skilful I
bring him. Let him saddle thy horse and open doors to thee.” With that
he gave his son Chelmai to Temudjin.
Some short time after this, just before daybreak one morning, Hoakchin,
an old woman, Hoelun’s faithful servant, who slept on the ground,
sprang up quickly and called to her mistress: “O mother, rise, I hear
the earth tremble! O mother, the Taidjuts are coming, our terrible
destroyers! Hasten, O mother!” “Rouse up the children,” said Hoelun,
“wake them all quickly!” Hoelun rose to her feet as she was speaking.
Temudjin and his brothers sprang up and ran to their horses. Hoelun
carried her daughter Taimulun. Temudjin had only one saddle beast
ready. There was no horse for Bortai, so he galloped off with his
brothers. Thus showing that self-preservation was his one thought.
Hoakchin, the old woman, hid Bortai, she stowed her away in a small
black kibitka (cart), attached a pied cow to it and drove along the
river Tungela. As the night darkness cleared and light was approaching
some mounted men overtook the old woman. “Who art thou?” asked they,
riding up to her. “I go around and shear sheep for rich people, I am on
my way home now,” said Hoakchin. “Is Temudjin at his yurta?” asked a
horseman. “Where is it?” “His yurta is not far, but I know not where he
is at this moment,” answered Hoakchin.
When the men had ridden off the old woman urged on the cow, but just
then the axle broke. Hoakchin wished to hurry on foot to the mountain
with Bortai, but the horsemen had turned back already and came to her.
“Who is in there?” asked a man as he pointed at the kibitka. “I have
wool there,” replied the old woman. “Let us look at this wool,
brothers,” said one of the mounted men. They dragged Bortai out, and
then put her on horseback with Hoakchin. Next they followed on
Temudjin’s tracks to Mount Burhan, but could not come up with him.
Wishing to enter the mountain land straightway they tried one and
another place, but found no road of any kind open. In one part a sticky
morass, in another a dense growth of forest and thicket. They did not
find the secret road and could not break in at any point. These
horsemen were from three clans of Merkits. The first had been sent by
Tukta Bijhi of the Uduts; the second by Dair Usun of the Uasits; the
third by Haätai Darmala of the Haäts. They had come to wreak vengeance
on Temudjin because Yessugai, his father, had snatched away Hoelun from
Chilaidu, and this Hoelun was Temudjin’s mother. They now carried off
Bortai, Temudjin’s wife, who was thus taken in vengeance, as they said,
for the stealing of Hoelun.
Temudjin, fearing lest they might be in ambush, sent his half brother,
Belgutai, and Boörchu, with Chelmai to examine and discover. In three
days when these men were well satisfied that the Merkits had gone from
the mountain, Temudjin left his hiding place. He stood, struck his
breast and cried looking heavenward: “Thanks to the ears of a skunk,
and the eyes of an ermine in the head of old Hoakchin, I escaped
capture. Besides that Mount Burhan has saved me, and from this day I
will make offering to the mountain, and leave to my children and their
children this duty of sacrifice.” Then he turned toward the sun, put
his girdle on his back, took his cap in his hand, and striking his
breast bent his knees nine times in homage; he made next a libation of
tarasun, a liquor distilled out of mare’s milk.
After that Temudjin with Kassar and Belgutai went to Togrul on the Tula
and implored him, “O father and sovereign,” said Temudjin, “three clans
of Merkits fell on us suddenly, and stole my wife, Bortai. Is it not
possible to save her?”
“Last year,” said Togrul, “when the cloak of black sable was brought to
me, I promised to lead back thy people who deserted, and those who were
scattered. I remember this well, and because of my promise I will root
out the Merkits, I will rescue and return to thee Bortai. Inform Jamuka
that thy wife has been stolen. Two tumans [4] of warriors will go with
me, let Jamuka lead out the same number.”
Jamuka, chief of the Juriats at that time, was descended from a brother
of Kabul Khan, and was third cousin therefore to Temudjin. Temudjin
sent his brothers to Jamuka with this message: “The Merkits have stolen
my wife, thou and I have the same origin; can we not avenge this great
insult?” He sent Togrul’s statement also. “I have heard,” said Jamuka,
“that Temudjin’s wife has been stolen, I am grieved very greatly at his
trouble and will help him.” He told where the three clans were camping,
and promised to aid in bringing back Bortai.
“Tell Temudjin and Togrul,” said he, “that my army is ready. With me
are some people belonging to Temudjin; from them I will gather one
tuman of warriors and take the same number of my own folk with them, I
will go up to Butohan Borchi on the Onon where Togrul will meet me.”
They took back the answer to Temudjin, and went to Togrul with the
words from Jamuka.
Togrul set out with two tumans of warriors toward the Kerulon and met
Temudjin at the river Kimurha. One tuman of Togrul’s men was led by
Jaganbo, his brother. Jamuka waited three days at Butohan Borchi for
Togrul and Jaganbo; he was angry and full of reproaches when he met
them. “When conditions are made between allies,” said he, “though wind
and rain come to hinder, men should meet at the season appointed. The
time of our meeting was settled, a given word is the same as an oath,
if the word is not to be kept no ally should be invited.”
“I have come three days late,” said Togrul. “Blame, and punish me,
Jamuka, my brother, until thou art satisfied.”
The warriors went on now, crossed the Kilho to Buura where they seized
all the people and with them the wife of the Merkit, Tukta Bijhi. Tukta
Bijhi, who was sleeping, would have been captured had not his hunters
and fishermen hurried on in the night time and warned him. He and Dair
Usun, his brother, rushed away down the river to Bargudjin. When the
Merkits were fleeing at night down along the Selinga, Togrul’s men
hunted on fiercely and were seizing them. In that rushing crowd
Temudjin shouted: “Bortai! O Bortai!” She was with the fleeing people;
she knew Temudjin’s voice and sprang from a small covered cart with
Hoakchin, the old woman. Running up, she caught Temudjin’s horse by the
bridle. The moon broke through clouds that same moment, and each knew
the other.
Temudjin sent to Togrul without waiting. “I have found,” said he,
“those whom I was seeking; let us camp now and go on no farther
to-night.” They camped there. When the Merkits with three hundred men
attacked Temudjin to take vengeance for snatching off Chilaidu’s wife,
Hoelun, Tukta Bijhi, the brother of Chilaidu, with two other leaders
rode three times round Mount Burhan, but could not find Temudjin, and
only took Bortai. They gave her as wife to Chilger, a younger brother
of Chilaidu, the first husband of Hoelun, Temudjin’s mother. (This
Chilaidu was perhaps Temudjin’s father.) Now, when a great army was led
in by Togrul and Jamuka, Chilger was cruelly frightened. “I have been
doomed like a crow,” said he, “to eat wretched scraps of old skin, but
I should like greatly the taste of some wild goose. By my offenses
against Bortai I have brought evil suffering on the Merkits; the harm
which now has befallen them may crush me also. To save my life I must
hide in some small and dark corner.” Having said this he vanished.
Haätai Darmala was the only man captured; they put a kang on his neck
and went straight toward Mount Burhan.
Those three hundred Merkits who rode thrice round Mount Burhan were
slain every man of them. Their wives, who were fit to continue as
wives, were given to new husbands; those who should only be slaves were
delivered to slavery.
“Thou, O my father, and thou my anda,” said Temudjin to Togrul and
Jamuka, “Heaven through the aid which ye gave me has strengthened my
hands to avenge a great insult. The Merkits who attacked me are
extinguished, their wives are taken captive, the work is now ended.”
That same year Bortai gave birth to her first son, Juchi, and because
of her captivity the real father of Juchi was always a question in the
mind of Temudjin.
The Uduts had left in their camp a beautiful small boy, Kuichu. He had
splendid bright eyes, was dressed in river sable, and on his feet were
boots made of deer hoofs. When the warriors took the camp they seized
Kuichu and gave him to Hoelun. Temudjin, Togrul and Jamuka destroyed
all the dwellings of the Merkits and captured the women left in them.
Togrul returned then to the Tula. Temudjin and Jamuka went to Hórho
Nachúbur and fixed a camp there. The two men renewed former times and
the origin of their friendship; each promised now to love the other
more firmly than aforetime, if possible. Temudjin was in his boyhood,
eleven years of age, when they made themselves “andas” the first day;
both were guests of Togrul at that period. Now they swore friendship
again,—became andas a second time. They discussed friendship with each
other: “Old people,” said Temudjin, “declare that when men become andas
both have one life as it were; neither abandons the other, and each
guards the life of his anda. Now we strengthen our friendship anew, and
refresh it.” At these words Temudjin girded Jamuka, with a golden belt,
which he had taken from the Merkits, and Jamuka gave him a rich girdle,
and a splendid white stallion, which he had captured. They arranged a
feast under a broad spreading tree near the cliff known as Huldah, and
at night they slept under one blanket together.
Temudjin and Jamuka, from love, as it were, of each other, lived
eighteen months in glad, careless company, but really each of the two
men was studying and watching his anda and working against him with all
the power possible as was shown very clearly in the sequel. At last
during April, while moving, the two friends spurred on ahead of the
kibitkas and were talking as usual: “If we camp near that mountain in
front,” said Jamuka all at once, “the horseherds will get our yurtas.
If we camp near the river the shepherds will have food for their
gullets.” Temudjin made no answer to words which seemed dark and
fateful, so he halted to wait for his wife and his mother; Jamuka rode
farther and left him. When Hoelun had come up to him Temudjin told her
the words of Jamuka, and said, “I knew not what they could signify,
hence I gave him no answer. I have come to ask thy opinion, mother.”
Hoelun had not time to reply because Bortai was quicker. “People say,”
declared Bortai, “that thy friend seeks the new and despises the old; I
think that he is tired of us. Is there not some trick in these words
which he has given thee? Is there not some danger behind them? We ought
not to halt, let us go on all night by a new road, and not stop until
daybreak. It is better to part in good health from Jamuka.” “Bortai
talks wisdom,” said Temudjin. He went on then by his own road, aside
from Jamuka, and passed near one camp of the Taidjuts who were
frightened when they saw him; they rose up and hurried away that same
night to Jamuka. Those Taidjuts left in their camp a small boy,
Kokochu. Temudjin’s men found the lad and gave him as a present to
Hoelun.
After this swift, all night’s journey when day came Temudjin’s party
was joined by many Jelairs. Horchi of the Barin clan came then to
Temudjin after daybreak and spoke to him as follows: “I know through a
revelation of the spirit what will happen, and to thee I now tell it:
In a vision I saw a pied cow coming up to Jamuka; she stopped, looked
at him, dug the earth near his yurta and broke off one horn as she was
digging. Then she bellowed very loudly, and cried: ‘Give back my horn,
O Jamuka.’ After that a strong hornless bull came drawing the pins of a
great ruler’s tent behind Temudjin’s kibitka. This great bull lowed as
he traveled, and said: ‘Heaven appoints Temudjin to be lord of
dominion, I am taking his power to him.’ This is what the spirit
revealed in my vision. What delight wilt thou give me for this
revelation?” “When I become lord of dominion, I will make thee
commander of ten thousand,” said Temudjin. “I have told thee much of
high value,” said Horchi. “If thou make me merely commander of ten
thousand what great delight can I get from the office? Make me that,
and let me choose also as wives thirty beautiful maidens wherever I
find them, and give me besides what I ask of thee.” Temudjin nodded,
and Horchi was satisfied.
Next came a number of men from four other clans. These had all left
Jamuka for Temudjin, and joined him at the river Kimurha. And then was
completed a work of great moment: Altan, Huchar and Sachai Baiki took
counsel with all their own kinsmen, and when they had finished they
stood before Temudjin and spoke to him as follows: “We wish to proclaim
thee,” said they. “When thou art Khan we shall be in the front of every
battle against all thy enemies. When we capture beautiful women and
take splendid stallions and mares we will bring all to thee surely, and
when at the hunt thou art beating in wild beasts we will go in advance
of others and give thee the game taken by us. If in battles we
transgress thy commands, or in peace we work harm to thee in any way,
take from us everything, take wives and property and leave us out then
in wild, barren places to perish.” Having sworn thus they proclaimed
Temudjin, and made him Khan over all of them.
Temudjin, now Khan in the land of the four upper rivers, commanded his
comrade Boörchu, whom he called “youngest brother,” together with
Ogelayu, Hochiun, Chedai and Tokolku to carry his bows and his quiver.
Vanguru and Kadan Daldur to dispense food and drink, to be masters of
nourishment. Dagai was made master of shepherds, Guchugur was made
master of kibitkas. Dodai became master of servants. After that he
commanded Kubilai, Chilgutai and Karkaito Kuraun with Kassar his
brother to be swordbearers; his half brother Belgutai with Karal Daito
Kuraun to be masters of horse training. Daichu, Daihut, Morichi and
Muthalhu were to be masters of horseherds. Then he commanded Arkai
Kassar, Tagai and Sukagai Chaurhan to be like near and distant arrows,
that is, messengers to near and distant places. Subotai the Valiant
spoke up then and said: “I will be like an old mouse in snatching, I
will be like a jackdaw in speed, I will be like a saddlecloth to hide
things, I will ward off every enemy, as felt wards off wind, that is
what I shall be for thee.”
Temudjin turned then to Boörchu and Chelmai. “When I was alone,” said
he, “ye two before other men came to me as comrades. I have not
forgotten this. Be ye first in all this assembly.” Then he spoke
further, and said to other men: “To you who have gathered in here after
leaving Jamuka, and have joined me, I declare that if Heaven keeps and
upholds me as hitherto, ye will all be my fortunate helpers and stand
in high honor before me;” then he instructed them how to perform their
new duties.
Temudjin sent Tagai and Sukagai to announce his accession to Togrul of
the Keraits. “It is well,” said Togrul, “that Temudjin is made Khan;
how could ye live even to this time without a commander? Be not false
to the Khan whom ye have chosen.”
Temudjin sent Arkai Kassar and Belgutai with similar tidings to Jamuka
who answered: “Tell Altan and Huchar, Temudjin’s uncle and cousin, that
they by calumnies have parted me now from my anda, and ask them why
they did not proclaim Temudjin when he and I were one person in spirit?
Be ye all active assistants to Temudjin. Let his heart be at rest
through your faithfulness.”
This was the formal official reply, Jamuka’s real answer was given soon
after.
Taichar, a younger brother of Jamuka, was living not far from Mount
Chalma, and a slave of Temudjin, named Darmala, was stopping for a
season at Sari Keher—a slave was considered in the customs of that age
and people as a brother, hence was as a brother in considering a
vendetta and dealing with it—Taichar stole a herd of horses from
Darmala whose assistants feared to follow and restore them, Darmala
rushed alone in pursuit and came up with his herd in the night time;
bending forward to the neck of his horse he sent an arrow into Taichar;
the arrow struck his spine and killed the man straightway. Darmala then
drove back his horses. Jamuka to take vengeance for his brother put
himself at the head of his own and some other clans; with these he
allied himself straightway with Temudjin’s mortal enemies, the
Taidjuts. Three tumans of warriors (30,000) were assembled by Targutai
and Jamuka. They had planned to attack their opponent unexpectedly and
crossed the ridge Alaut Turhau for this purpose. Temudjin, in Gulyalgu
at that time, was informed of this movement by Mulketokah and by Boldai
who were both of them Ikirats. His warriors all told were thirteen
thousand in number and with these he marched forth to meet Targutai and
Jamuka. He was able to choose his own time and he struck the invaders
as suited him. He fought with these enemies at Dalan-baljut and gained
his first triumph, a bloody victory, and immense in its value as
results proved.
Targutai and Jamuka were repulsed with great loss. Their army was
broken and scattered, and many were taken prisoners. After this fierce
encounter Temudjin led his men to a forest not far from the
battleground where he ranged all his prisoners, and selected the main
ones for punishment. Beyond doubt there were many among them of those
who had enticed away people after the poisoning of Yessugai, Temudjin’s
father, men who had left the orphan and acted with Targutai his
bitterest enemy. In seventy, or, as some state, in eighty large
caldrons, he boiled alive those of them who were worthiest of
punishment. The boiling continued each day till he had tortured to
death the most powerful and vindictive among his opponents. This
execution spread terror on all sides, and since Temudjin showed the
greatest kindness to his friends not only during those days, but at all
times and rewarded them to the utmost, hope and fear brought him many
adherents.
The Uruts and Manhuts, the first led by Churchadai, and the second by
Kuyuldar, drew away from Jamuka and joined Temudjin, the new victor.
Munlik of the clan Kuanhotan came also, bringing with him his seven
mighty sons who were immensely great fighters, and venomous. This
Munlik, a son of that Charaha whom one of Targutai’s followers had
wounded to death with a spear thrust, was the man who had brought home
Temudjin from the house of Desaichan his father-in-law when his own
father, Yessugai, was dying.
Soon after the boiling to death of those captives in the forest a
division of the Juriats, that is Jamuka’s own clansmen, came and joined
Temudjin for the following reason: The Juriat lands touched those of
Temudjin’s people, and on a certain day men of both sides were hunting
and the parties met by pure chance in the evening. “Let us pass the
night here with Temudjin,” said some of the Juriats. Others would not
consent, and one half of the party, made up altogether of four hundred,
went home; the other two hundred remained in the forest. Temudjin gave
these men all the meat needed, and kettles in which they could boil it,
he treated them generously and with friendship.
These Juriats halted still longer and hunted with Temudjin’s party.
They received every evening somewhat more of the game than was due
them; at parting they were satisfied with Temudjin’s kindness and
thanked him sincerely. At heart they felt sad, for their position was
painful. They wished greatly to join Temudjin, but desired not to leave
their own people; and on the way home they said to one another as they
traveled: “The Taidjuts are gone, they will not think of us in future.
Temudjin cares for his people and does everything to defend them.” On
reaching home they talked with their elders. “Let us settle still
nearer to Temudjin,” said they, “and obey him, give him service.” “What
harm have the Taidjuts done you?” was the answer. “They are kinsfolk;
how could we become one with their enemy, and leave them?”
Notwithstanding this answer Ulug Bahadur and Tugai Talu with their
kinsmen and dependents went away in a body to Temudjin.
“We have come,” said they, “like a woman bereft of her husband, or a
herd without a master, or a flock without a shepherd. In friendship and
agreement we would live with thee, we would draw our swords to defend
thee, and cut down thy enemies.”
“I was like a sleeping man when ye came to me,” said Temudjin, “ye
pulled me by the forelock and roused me. I was sitting here in sadness,
and ye cheered me, I will do what I can now to satisfy your wishes.” He
made various rules and arrangements which pleased them, and they were
satisfied perfectly, at least for a season.
Temudjin wished to strengthen his position still further, and desired
to win to his alliance Podu who was chief of the Kurulats, whose lands
were adjacent to the Argun. This chief was renowned as an archer and a
warrior. Temudjin offered him his sister in marriage. The offer was
accepted with gladness. Podu was ready to give Temudjin half his
horses, and proffered them.
“Oh,” said Temudjin, “thou and I will not mention either taking or
giving; we two are brothers and allies, not traffickers or traders. Men
in the old time have said that one heart and one soul cannot be in two
bodies, but this is just what in our case I shall show to all people as
existing. I desire nothing of thee and thy people, but friendship. I
wish to extend my dominion and only ask faithful help from my sister’s
husband and his tribesmen.” The marriage took place and Podu was his
ally.
Soon after this first group of Juriats had joined Temudjin, some more
of their people discussed at a meeting as follows: “The Taidjuts
torment us unreasonably, they give us nothing whatever, while Temudjin
takes the coat from his back and presents it. He comes down from the
horse which he has mounted and gives that same horse to the needy. He
is a genuine leader, he is to all as a father. His is the best governed
country.” This fraction also joined Temudjin.
Another marriage to be mentioned was that of Temudjin’s mother to
Munlik, son of Charáha, and father of the seven brothers—the great
fighters. All these accessions of power, and his victory so
strengthened Temudjin and rejoiced him that he made for his mother and
step-mothers and kinsfolk, with all the new people, a feast near the
river Onon, in a forest. At this feast feminine jealousy touching
position, and the stealing of a bridle, brought about a dispute and an
outbreak. In spite of Temudjin’s power and authority an encounter took
place at the feast which caused one chief, Sidje Bijhi of the Barins,
to withdraw with his party. He withdrew not from the feast alone, but
from his alliance with Temudjin.
The quarrel began in this way: Temudjin sent a jar of mare’s milk first
of all to his mother, to Kassar and to Sachai Baiki. Thereupon Holichin
and Hurchin, his two step-mothers grew angry. “Why not give milk to us
before those people, why not give milk to us at the same time with
Temudjin’s mother?” asked they as they struck Shikiur who was master of
provisions. This striking brought on a disturbance. Thereupon Temudjin
commanded his half brother, Belgutai, to mount his horse and keep order
and take Buri Buga on the part of the Churkis to help him. A man of the
Hadjin clan and connected with the Churkis stole a bridle and was
discovered by Belgutai who stopped him. Buri Buga, feeling bound to
defend this man, cut through Belgutai’s shoulder piece, wounding him
badly.
Belgutai made no complaint when his blood flowed. Temudjin, who was
under a tree looking on, noted everything. “Why suffer such treatment?”
inquired he of Belgutai. “I am wounded,” said Belgutai, “but the wound
is not serious; cousins should not quarrel because of me.” Temudjin
broke a branch from the tree, seized a milk paddle, sprang himself at
the Churkis and beat them; then seizing his step-mothers he brought
them back to their places, and to reason.
The two Juriat parties which had joined Temudjin grew cool in
allegiance soon after that feast at the river. They were brought to
this state of mind beyond doubt by intrigues of Jamuka; next they
fought with each other, and finally deserted.
Jamuka was a man of immense power in plotting, and one who never ceased
to pursue his object. Temudjin tried to win some show of kindness from
Jamuka. In other words he made every effort to subdue him by deep
subtle cunning, but all efforts proved fruitless. These men were bound
to win power. Without power life was no life for either one of the two
master tricksters. Whatever his action or seeming at any time Jamuka
was Temudjin’s mortal enemy always. He kept undying hatred in his
heart, and was ever planning some blow at his rival. When the Juriats
were at their best he was plotting, when they were scattered and weak
and had in part gone to Temudjin he was none the less active and made
common cause with the enemies of his opponent wherever he could find
them. Temudjin cared for no man or woman, and for no thing on earth if
opposed to his plans of dominion.