THE MONGOLIAN PLATEAU
July 15 saw us once more on the march. In Kalgan we had met Mr. F. A.
Larson of the British and Foreign Bible Society, and he had very kindly
lent us a cart and four ponies, together with the services of one of his
Mongol servants, whom we called Wu Lama. This man spoke Chinese and was
to act as guide to our party as far as Lama Miao, our objective. As our
outfit was rather heavy, we had to hire another cart for the journey.
We started rather late in the day, so that we could only make
T’u-ching-tzŭ that night. Our road lay north by north-west from Kalgan
up a narrow valley, winding through the steep and rocky hills, which
form a fringe to the great Mongolian Plateau.
Next day, after continuing up the valley ten li (3 miles) to its source,
we began the difficult climb up the famous Han-nor-pa pass, which is one
of the most rugged and hardest to negotiate in all North China. It took
us five hours to do the four miles to the top of the pass, by which time
the animals needed a good rest, so once more we put up with a short
day’s run and decided to spend the night at a farm-inn named
Huang-hua-p’ing.
On July 17 we made an early start, but heavy rains during the night had
rendered the roads well nigh impassable, so that progress was very slow.
We now headed in a northerly direction for a few miles, traversing low,
rolling grasslands, cultivated here and there by Chinese settlers, whose
farms could be seen dotted over the landscape. Several small lagoons
were passed, whereon sheld-ducks and other waterfowl were plentiful. By
nightfall we had done sixty li (about 25 miles), and put up at a small
inn named Ts’a-han-k’u-luan. It must be stated that the li of the
Mongolian Plateau are very much longer than those within the Great Wall.
Sixty Mongolian li might be taken as the equivalent of eighty or ninety
Chinese li. As far as we could make out the Mongolians themselves have
no such standard of measurement, but measure distance by the time it
takes a pony to do it, and reduce that to li. Thus in spring when the
grass-fed ponies are lean and exhausted after the long winter, the
distance in li between two places will be considered double or treble
what it would be in the autumn when the ponies are fat and vigorous
after a summer’s rich feeding. It was some time before we realized this,
and as a result we were often very much confused at the answers we
received when asking the distance to places.
Leaving Ts’a-han-k’u-luan on July 18, we continued over slightly
undulating country till we reached a temple called Borrosun, where we
stopped and had a cup of tea with a fat lama. Here we came upon the
first Mongol encampments, for round the temple there were numerous
tents, some of which were very fine indeed, denoting the presence of
some petty chiefs. The lamas in the temple were very hospitable, serving
us with their best and refusing with indignation our offer to pay for
what we had received.
After leaving Borrosun we once more encountered cultivated fields and
Chinese farms. Here wheat and mustard were being grown on a large scale.
Sometimes a single field would stretch for a mile or more without a
break. The Chinese settlers were all new in the country and many were
still building shacks and huts to live in. We lunched at one of these
farms, after which we continued in a north-north-easterly direction
towards some low hills. As we crossed the first ridge of these we could
see storm clouds gathering in the west, so that, when we reached a
Mongol camp beside a small lake called Dahmun Nor, we hastened to pitch
our tents. We were too late, however, and the storm struck us just as we
had the first tent in position, but before it was pegged down. Everybody
and everything was drenched, and momentarily the wind threatened to
carry away the tent, on to which we were all hanging for dear life. The
storm did not last long, however, so that when we got the stove going we
were able to get our clothes and belongings dry before nightfall.
PLATE IX.
[Illustration:
MONGOL WOMEN WEARING FULL DRESS HEAD-GEAR OF SILVER-MOUNTED CORAL AND
TURQUOISE.
]
[Illustration:
MONGOL WOMAN IN ORDINARY HEAD-GEAR.
_Opposite p. 142._]
]
We were now well into Mongol territory and could no longer expect to
find inns or any shelter except that of our own tents. The Mongols along
this route, owing to their continual intercourse with travelling
Chinese, who are ever on the alert to cheat them, were inclined to be
inhospitable even to us. They generally refused to sell us even the
commonest commodities, such as milk and argol, except at extortionate
prices, preferring to lose the sale rather than reduce the price quoted
by a single cash. This attitude is scarcely to be wondered at, for it is
the last resource of the poor Mongol against the cunning and avarice of
the Chinese, who above all other peoples are skilled in the art of
cheating and swindling. Even as it is, the Mongols for decades past have
been cheated out of land and cattle till many of them are reduced to
abject poverty. The Chinese trader or dealer makes his appearance
amongst the Mongols bringing with him all sorts of articles that he
knows will appeal to their simple minds. These he sells at excessive
rates, and refuses to accept immediate payment. He waits till he fancies
his victims are not in a position to produce the necessary silver and
then comes down upon them demanding payment. The unsophisticated
Mongols, being unable to meet their creditor’s demands, allow him to
pick from their herds. Needless to say, the trader takes the fullest
advantage of this offer, and gets away with the pick of the herds at far
below their worth, and the poor Mongols find themselves left without
their best breeding stock, which they are unable to replace.
The same thing happens, only on a much larger scale, with regard to the
land. In this case it is the princes and chieftains who sell their
heritage for a mess of pottage. Thus there has sprung up between the
Mongols and the Chinese a bitter hatred, which can only be wiped out
with blood. On the one hand the Mongols preserve a sullen demeanour
towards the Chinese, refusing them even the commonest civilities,
treating them with overbearing hauteur and disdaining to hold any but
the most necessary intercourse with them. The Chinese retaliate by
driving harder bargains and getting the Mongols deeper into the toils of
their usurious schemes, while amongst themselves they save face by
heaping opprobrious epithets and vile names upon their victims.
The following day our road bore still more to the east. Shortly after
leaving Dahmun Nor we saw some antelopes and at once set about stalking
them. By keeping behind a low hill, we got close to them, but failed to
bring one down. Further on we saw a few more, but could not get a shot
at them, as they were out on the flat plain. The country through which
we were now passing consisted of wide, perfectly flat plains bounded by
low, grass-covered hills. Here and there were the usual lagoons so
typical of this country. The water in these is often brackish and always
muddy, owing to the fact that the camels, horses and cows wade into it
during the noonday heat to escape the cruel flies with which the country
swarms.
Indeed, so numerous and annoying were the flies, that our ponies were
driven to the verge of madness. These winged pests ranged from the size
of midges to that of large wasps, and all bit and stung. There was one
kind with a long hooked tail that had a predilection for settling upon
the noses of our ponies. So much did the poor animals dread this variety
(doubtless a species of Warble fly), that they would go frantic if one
were hovering round, flinging themselves upon their knees and rubbing
their noses in the sand or grass. At nights, when the ponies were turned
loose to graze, the smaller varieties of flies would settle in swarms
upon them, so that one could sweep them up in handfuls of juicy pulp. At
nights, too, the flies were replaced by cruel stabbing mosquitoes,
especially if we camped near marshy ground. So tormented were our ponies
that they could not find time to eat, while they tore the skin of their
heads and necks into ribbons rubbing against the carts in frantic
endeavours to find relief.
We stopped for lunch and midday rest at a large Mongol encampment named
Oochinobar, where lived a local chief. This dignitary resided in a
commodious brick building, though the rest of his people lived in the
usual round felt tents. The chief sent us a present of cheese and sour
cream. The latter went well enough on our bread, but the former was too
full of hairs to recommend itself to us. However, at our request some
bowls of fresh milk were brought, to which we did full justice. Night
found us at another large temple named Marlagaisun, where we camped
beside a fine well. Here we had some difficulty in obtaining fuel, but
Wu Lama, by riding off to some Mongol camps, managed to secure a bagful
of the precious commodity.
As is well known, the Mongols burn various kinds of cattle droppings,
dried in the sun and called “argol.” As they use only open stoves, it
can readily be understood how important it is to get the stuff to burn
with as little smoke as possible. To do this great care must be
exercised in gathering, drying and stacking the droppings. Beside every
camp one may see huge piles of argol as large, if not larger, than the
tents themselves. These consist mainly of cow droppings, which form an
excellent and comparatively smokeless fuel, if treated in the right way.
We found it burned well in our stove, giving out much heat.
The temple at Marlagaisun is typical of those prevalent in Mongolia. We
were told that it harboured about seven hundred lamas, but this
statement is hard to believe, though in any case the number was very
large. On our journey in this region we passed no less than seven such
temples, not including the two big ones at Lama Miao, and as each temple
had hundreds of lamas, drawn from the surrounding encampments, it can be
imagined why the Mongols are dying out. These lamas are entirely
supported by contributions from the lay Mongols, and being a lazy,
good-for-nothing lot, act as parasites, sucking the very life-blood out
of the nation. The rule of the leading lamas is absolute over the
people. It is kept up by skilful play upon the intense superstition and
religious fanaticism of the Mongol nature, and it is probable that in no
country in the world are the people so bound by priestcraft as in
Mongolia. In addition to their despotic and parasitical rule, they have,
by their vile and filthy lives, introduced amongst their people the
scourge of terrible diseases, against which they have no remedy.
Can anything be more pitiful than the picture of this wretched people,
by nature open-hearted, frank and intensely religious, degraded by a
religion, itself sunk from lofty heights of philosophy into something
little better than demon and lust worship, burdened with a host of
sensuous priests, who spend their time between debauch and futile
prayer, scourged by loathsome diseases, cheated and robbed by the
emissaries and traders of a grasping neighbour on the south, and
threatened, though they know it not, by a slavery worse than that of the
Israelites in Egypt by an equally greedy neighbour on the north?[5] And
yet it was this same people that under the famous Genghis Khan swept
Asia and Eastern Europe in a stupendous conquest such as the world has
never seen before or since. One may safely say that under a morally and
socially sound government, freed from their superstitions and the burden
of priestcraft, the Mongols would once more rise to be a great nation,
filling a special place—the conquerors of the deserts—in the world’s
economy. One cannot help wondering whether they are destined to fill
that place, or, like their blood relations on the American Continent,
are doomed to be exterminated by the onward march of civilization.
A call comes ringing over the deserts of Central Asia from the dwellers
in the tents of Mongolia to the enlightened and humanitarian Powers of
the West to help them in this their hour of need. Will those Powers
answer the call and see that the Mongols are allowed that independence
for which they are fighting? Will they keep within their borders those
wolfish neighbours, either of whom, if they could embrace Mongolia in
their cruel grasp, would assuredly crush the life out of her people?
Will they send men to teach them the laws of hygiene and clean living;
men to fight the ravages of disease, and men to give them a pure and
uplifting religion? Or will they leave them to become a prey to
intrigue, treachery and their own degrading worship?
Such thoughts as these crossed my mind, as I sat in the cool evening at
the tent door, gazing upon the lofty pinnacles and quaint roofs of the
great temple, silhouetted against the glowing western sky, and heard the
dull roar of the great trumpets and the dismal wail of the priests at
their vespers. The afterglow faded into night and the doleful dirge of
the priests died away, and all was peace and calm, as the myriad stars
peeped forth, and we turned in to enjoy a good night’s rest.
From Marlagaisun we travelled still north-eastward, reaching by noon a
Chinese farm named Kao-chi-ke-san. Here for a distance of a few miles
the country was under cultivation. We saw some more antelopes, but again
failed to secure one. In the afternoon, after leaving the cultivated
area behind, we encountered more hilly country, where some more
antelopes were seen, one of which Warrington succeeded in bringing down.
I wounded another, but the best efforts of our ponies failed to run him
down. He led us into the hills, where we saw several small herds, which,
however, we were unable to approach. We decided to camp in the vicinity,
so pitched our tents beside a small encampment named Borlien, and spent
the next two days hunting antelopes.
We met with only moderate success, Warrington securing two antelopes. On
one of our rambles, while we were sitting on the hillside, two wolves
sprang up from the long grass below us. We tried several shots, but
failed to bring one down. As in the mountains west of K’uei-hua-ch’êng,
we found the distances very deceptive, objects always appearing much
nearer than they really were. We might have secured some more good heads
in this district if we had known more about the habits of our quarry. As
it was, during the two days we spent here we saw numerous small herds,
which, however, we found the greatest difficulty in approaching.
Leaving Borlien on July 23 we continued in a north-easterly direction up
a long, narrow valley, in which were large herds of camels, fattening up
on the luxurious grass for their winter’s work. The bellies of some of
these were enormously distended, and the humps of all of them were erect
and full, showing a good store of nutriment already laid by. By noon we
reached a small river, crossing which, we soon came upon a vast herd of
antelopes, numbering several hundreds. We could not get nearer than
about four hundred yards, so we tried several long shots. In this way I
succeeded in securing one antelope—my first. Warrington shot another a
little later. It was a wonderful sight to see so many antelopes, all
tearing across the rolling prairies. Our firing made them split up into
small herds, usually led by large does, and soon they were scattered for
miles in every direction.
That night we reached Chinese settled country once more, putting up at
an inn named Ha-pa-ch’iao. Here our road joined the main Kalgan-Lama
Miao road, which we had left soon after leaving Huang-hua-p’ing, at the
edge of the Mongolian Plateau. We had followed what is commonly known as
the Mongol road, which lies to the north and west of the other, and has
for its chief attraction the fact that there are fewer Chinese settlers,
so that one can see more of the Mongols in their native haunts.
From Ha-pa-ch’iao to Pei-sui Nor, our next day’s journey, the road lay
all the way through Chinese farms.
On July 25 we reached Lama Miao, after a short run from Pei-sui Nor of
not more than twenty-five li. We pitched our tents on an open grassy
stretch between the town and the two great temples, from which the place
gets its name.
Lama Miao Ting, or Dolon Nor, is an extensive Chinese settlement
composed mainly of squalid mud buildings, divided by filthy, slushy
streets. Here and there are a few more pretentious houses of brick,
though even these are badly built. There are a great many shops, which
cater for the growing needs of the Mongols. The inhabitants are chiefly
engaged in trading with the latter, exchanging grain and manufactured
articles for such raw material as wool, skins, hides, and also horses
and cattle. On the whole the town is very uninteresting.
On the other hand, the temples situated about a mile from the town are
well worth a visit. They differ but little from the Lama Temple in
Peking, with their extensive courtyards and wide and lofty halls,
decorated with rich tapestries and gaudily painted idols, and hung with
drums, trumpets, cymbals and gongs. There in a corner stands the great
prayer wheel, which reels off a hundred or more prayers a minute,
according to the energy of him who adopts this method of supplication.
At the doors of the courts sit blind lamas, who, for a small
consideration of a cash or two, will save him even that trouble, by
revolving at a great speed miniature models of the great prayer wheel.
We arrived in Lama Miao just in time to witness the annual devil-dance,
a most important function of a religious nature, which draws crowds of
Mongols from all the surrounding districts. It began on July 26 and
lasted three days. At about ten o’clock in the morning we went to one of
the temples to watch the proceedings. Since dawn great crowds of Chinese
had streamed past our tents towards the temples, while we could see
caravans of Mongols flocking in from every direction. These now mingled
in one great concourse in and round the temple precincts. The Mongols
were dressed in flowing robes of brilliantly coloured silks, especially
the girls and young women. These, resplendent in their beautiful
dresses, heavily decorated and braided with gold and silver, moved about
in little bevies, laughing, chatting and exchanging greetings with their
friends and acquaintances. From their heads, which were adorned with
beautifully worked caps and hats, hung the most gorgeous head-dresses of
delicate silver tracery, holding together great strings of coral,
turquoise and amber beads. Sometimes they hid these glories under bright
scarlet, green or yellow kerchiefs, from which their pretty,
mischievous, smiling faces peeped out, and if they did not cause an
extra flutter in the hearts of the young bucks standing round, it says
much for the stolidity of the Mongol.
When two parties met, an elaborate business of exchanging snuff bottles
by way of greeting took place; nor was the ceremony complete till every
member of one party had exchanged snuff bottles with every member of the
other.
The Mongols seemed to appreciate the religious significance of the
function, and one and all went into the temples to perform little acts
of worship, such as the tolling of a bell, the lighting of a candle,
which they bought from the priest at an exorbitant price, or the
prostrating of themselves before the great Buddha, which sat, sublimely
indifferent, at the head of the hall. The Chinese on the other hand were
little more than sight-seers, only a very few performing any acts of
worship.
Outside the temple there were peep-shows, conjurers and quack medicine
sellers, one of whom advertised the efficacy of his wares by cutting
himself with a knife and stopping the flow of blood by the application
of a white powder. This he subsequently sold at the rate of three
packets for four cents. He netted about twenty cents, after having
talked for an hour, and made an incision in his thigh half an inch deep
and three inches long. How often he repeated this performance during the
day it would be interesting to know. There were, besides, the usual
medley of food-stalls and tea-booths.
On entering the temple a brilliant scene unfolded itself before us.
Hundreds of brightly clad Mongols swarmed across the courts, up the
great flight of stone steps and into the lofty prayer hall. Following
the crowd, we entered the hall. Here all was confusion, as the lamas
were busily engaged in shifting great pieces of furniture into position
for the coming ceremony. Presently some little boys, dressed up as
living skeletons and ferocious demons, appeared upon the scene, and with
long canes began to drive out the Chinese and lay Mongols.
Leaving the hall, we took up our stand upon a side verandah, and
prepared to take snapshots of the proceedings. Presently the great
twenty-foot trumpets began to blare out their mournful dirges, to the
accompanying boom of colossal drums. A long, low wail rose from the
lamas, sitting upon little mats in long rows between the great red
pillars of the prayer hall. Every now and then the wail would rise into
a mighty volume of sound, while trumpets, smaller than the great roaring
instruments on the balcony above, would add their clarion notes to the
swelling chorus of wild music. Then again all sound would gradually die
away to a dull drone, like that of a hive of bees on a summer’s day,
only to rise once more till the great hall would ring again. All this
while the little skeletons and demons were flitting about amongst the
gay crowds, striving vainly to keep order, while ever and anon a fat
priest would sally forth and take a look at the rapidly-darkening sky.
PLATE X.
[Illustration:
PROCESSION LEAVING PRAYER HALL, LAMA MIAO, MONGOLIA.
_Opposite p. 154._]
]
Soon the rain began to fall, at first a gentle sprinkle, then a steady
shower, which finally developed into a tropical deluge. As if by magic
the great courts were cleared of the yellow and red lamas, the laughing
bevies of Mongol damsels and the blue-gowned Chinese, while the little
devils were jostled about, much to their annoyance and disgust, as the
crowds, regardless of blows and curses, sought shelter upon the
extensive verandahs of the prayer hall. It rained for an hour, during
which time the mournful dirges continued unabated. At the end of that
time the clouds dispersed and the lamas, dressed in long, yellow robes
and high, helmet-like caps, issued from the hall in a double line. Two,
bearing a tall, pyramid-shaped object, surmounted with a grinning human
skull, preceded the rest. They walked side by side bearing aloft the
object of veneration, in such fashion that it passed over the heads of a
long line of kneeling Mongols.
Having arrived at the outermost court, the long procession of monks
found to its dismay that it was flooded a foot deep with water. This
brought the proceedings to a close, so we returned to camp, without
being able to watch the actual devil dance. From what I could gather the
devil dance itself would have been a sight well worth seeing. It is
performed by lamas and acolytes dressed up as skeletons, demons and
mythical beasts such as dragons, unicorns and horned lions. The dancers
draw up and execute figures not unlike those in some of our dances, to
the accompaniment of cymbals, gongs, drums and trumpets.
The following day it rained incessantly, but on the 28th it cleared up
long enough for the annual races to be held. We witnessed these, and
were much amused to see Chinese grooms from Shanghai dressed in all the
splendour of their European masters’ cast-off riding clothes, racing
neck and neck with gaudily dressed Mongols. A good turf track had been
marked out, supposedly the size of the Shanghai course, and the races
were conducted as nearly as possible on the same lines as those at the
Treaty Port meetings.
These races are not to be compared with the long twenty, forty or sixty
li races indulged in by the Mongols, in which the jockeys are young boys
and girls, who ride barebacked. Unfortunately we just missed seeing one
of these proper races, which took place at a neighbouring chief’s
encampment a few days later. Regarding one of these races we were told
an amusing story. A certain Mongol chief offered a prize of one hundred
taels (about £15) to the winner of a fifty li race (about fifteen
miles). He also offered a second prize of twenty taels. The race was to
be between two camps along a certain route not yet specified. It so
happened that in the district there was a pony which hitherto had
remained unbeaten. On the day of the race the owner of this pony was
purposely given wrong instructions as to the route to be taken, being
directed to take a rough and roundabout way to the winning post. All the
other competitors, including the jockeys of the chief’s own race ponies,
were of course directed along the correct route. At the given signal the
ponies dashed off on their long cross country race, the champion well in
the lead. To the surprise of every one this pony, after taking the long
route, arrived at the winning post before any of the others were in
sight. The owner naturally claimed the first prize, but the wily chief
got out of the difficulty by disqualifying the pony for the first prize,
because it had taken the wrong course; but he very graciously awarded it
the second prize. The first prize went to the owner of the second pony
reaching the winning post, which in this case happened to belong to the
chief himself.
The night after the races was spent by us in great anxiety, as the rain
fell in torrents hour after hour, and we were momentarily threatened
with inundation. A small, dry, stream bed, which looked harmless enough
when we camped upon its bank, now assumed the proportions of a river,
the edge of which crept slowly to within a foot of our tent. Every
moment I expected the banks of the main stream above us to give way and
flood the plain. At about ten o’clock we heard a cry, and rushing out
were just in time to rescue a luckless carter and his oxen from drowning
in the torrent that rushed past our tent. The wheels of the carts were
washed away, but the bullocks, aided by us, were able to drag the empty
wagons to the shore. The carter afterwards told us, as he sat drying
himself over the stove, that he had driven carts to and fro across this
creek bed all his life and had never known it like this before.
We struck camp next day with a view to finding safer camping ground, but
in crossing the main stream experienced the misfortune of having our
cart capsize. Everything was soaked, and it was with difficulty that we
saved several articles, which were being swept away on the flood. This
catastrophe necessitated our returning to Lama Miao, where we put up at
an inn and managed to get our things dry. Unfortunately a whole set of
photographs of the races and scenes at the devil dance was ruined.
Next day, July 30, we left the vicinity, striking due west towards some
unusually high hills. The heavy rains, as usual, had damaged the roads,
so that we experienced great difficulty in climbing the slopes of the
hills. Finally we pitched camp in a green pasture near the top of the
divide. Here there was an unusual amount of vegetation, and we were
surprised to find roe-deer in the district. A badger was also seen,
besides some partridges. This was the highest point we reached on the
whole journey, the top of the divide being about 5,000 feet above sea
level and 1,000 feet above Lama Miao.
The following day we descended once more on to rolling grasslands,
reaching by mid-afternoon a rather large river called Chanding Gol,
which we afterwards found out was the continuation of the river we
crossed two days before reaching Lama Miao. We had great difficulty in
crossing it, in its present swollen state, but finally succeeded without
mishap, and, traversing some ugly swamps, pitched camp within the ruins
of an ancient town called Sui-lang-ch’êng. The walls of this place were
now only grass-covered mounds, while a grassy hummock in the centre
marked the site of the central tower. Otherwise there was not a sign of
former buildings. These ruins it is believed date from the time of the
Grand Khan Kublai.
From Sui-lang-ch’êng we continued our journey a little south of west,
crossing low divides and wide valleys, and camping at suitable
watering-places. Nothing of peculiar interest occurred. The long grass
round the wells and Mongol camps was found to give shelter to numbers of
hares, while now and then we would get a shot at an antelope. Warrington
succeeded in getting a nice head one day with a good pair of horns.
Crossing a low divide we saw a fine buck silhouetted against the evening
sky. It was Warrington’s turn to have a shot, I having wounded and lost
a nice animal the day before. Accordingly he left his pony with me and
climbed to the point where the antelope had disappeared. He was lucky
enough to find on the other side a herd of ten or a dozen bucks, two of
which he bowled over. He emptied his magazine trying to get a third, but
failed to do so. Without re-charging his rifle he went to examine the
two antelopes he had dropped. One of these jumped up and bounded off
after the rest of the herd as though unhurt. When I arrived on the scene
it was too late to do anything, especially as there was no blood trail
to follow.
Between Sui-lang-ch’êng and Tabool, which place we reached on August 7,
our stopping-places were Harborrogar, Tavunghaila, Nartainchao, Oola
Hutaga and Hoborrow, all of which, except the last, were small Mongol
camps. Hoborrow is the seat of a petty chieftain. We stayed one day at
Oola Hutaga on account of rain. Here the hills are high and inclined to
be rugged.
Tabool or Tabo Ola (meaning Five Hills) is the summer home of our
friend, Mr. F. A. Larson,[6] whose work is amongst the Mongols. On our
arrival we received a very warm welcome from this kindly missionary
family. It had been my purpose to make a collection of mammals in this
district, so we gladly accepted a kind invitation to stay as long as we
could. A fine large Mongol tent was placed at our disposal, and
throughout our stay we were very comfortable.
PLATE XI.
[Illustration:
BIG PRAYER WHEEL, LAMA MIAO, MONGOLIA.
]
[Illustration:
DEVIL-DANCERS, LAMA MIAO, MONGOLIA.
_Opposite p. 160._]
]
We at once set out a lot of traps, and were rewarded with a good
collection of small mammals, including about ten different species,
namely, the hare (_Lepus tolai_), the pika (_Ochotona dauurica_), the
allactaga (_Allactaga mongolica_), the gerbil (_Meriones unguiculatus_),
the suslik (_Citellus mongolicus umbratus_), the striped hamster
(_Cricetulus griseus obscurus_), Campbell’s hamster (_Phodopus
campbelli_), two voles (_Microtus angustus_ and _Microtus warringtoni_)
and the common mouse (_Mus wagneri mongolium_).
Mr. Larson very kindly placed his ponies at our disposal, our own being
rather worn out with the long journey, and he arranged for several very
successful antelope hunts, so that we secured eight good skins for our
collection. Altogether we shot eleven antelopes.
The method adopted by our Mongol guides in hunting these antelopes gave
us excellent sport and required good horsemanship, a quick eye and rapid
and accurate shooting. Following is a typical example of a day’s hunting
in these parts.
Starting early in the morning we rode westward for a mile or so till we
reached Mr. Larson’s herd of ponies, where we changed our mounts. For a
few minutes there was a scene of confusion as the herders chased the
chosen ponies, but at last they were caught and saddled, and away we
rode toward some low, rocky hills. How those ponies flew! regardless of
holes, rocks, tufts of “nigger head” or swamps! They took everything in
their stride, while to right and left as we passed through clumps of
sage brush or sedge grass, the startled hares skipped out of our way, or
the ground squirrels dived into their holes, giving shrill little
shrieks of indignation and kicking up spirts of sand behind them. In an
amazingly short time we had covered the five or six miles to the hills,
climbing which, we obtained an extended view of the valleys and plains.
Soon we spotted a herd of antelopes. These caught sight of us almost as
soon as we saw them, and splitting up they made off at top speed.
Warrington, Larson and one of the Mongols went off after the main herd,
while I, with the other Mongol, followed two fine-looking bucks, that
had broken away in another direction. It must be understood that the
plains are gently undulating, so that hollows and low eminences
alternate like the great rollers of the gently heaving ocean. Presently
our two antelopes disappeared into one of these hollows. At once we
urged our ponies to their utmost, and by so doing gained considerably
upon our quarry without alarming them further. When next we caught sight
of them, they were not more than eight hundred yards distant.
They now cut a semicircle round us and once more started off, soon being
lost to view in another hollow, along which they travelled at an easy
trot. Taking a parallel hollow, we again pressed our ponies, gaining
another two hundred yards upon the antelopes, before we saw them again
crossing the low rise between the two hollows. By remaining perfectly
still we escaped observation. The moment the antelopes were out of
sight, we again set spurs to our ponies. After a short sharp gallop I
dismounted and crept up to the top of the rise, but did not fire as my
quarry were still rather far, and were trotting gently along the next
rise. By galloping, hiding and scouting in turn we arrived at last
within easy range and I took a shot. I hit the antelope, but did not
drop him. Just at this moment a large herd swept by, from which I bagged
a second antelope. My Mongol went after the first animal, which at once
set off towards the hills, and, easily out-distancing his pursuer, hid
amongst some rocks and sage brush. An hour or more we spent in searching
for the wounded animal. The Mongol climbed to the top of the highest
peak in the little range, from which point of vantage he made out the
tiniest movement in some sage brush fully a mile distant. Returning to
where I was waiting he directed me to the right spot, and before long I
had the satisfaction of bowling over my buck, as he sprang up from the
brush and made for the adjacent ridge. My companions also succeeded in
wounding an antelope, which, however, escaped and was not secured till
next day.
One day while out with us, Mr. Larson surprised and shot a badger, which
he presented to our collection. This with the antelopes brought our
collection of mammals up to twelve species.
On finding that my traps were being robbed of their catches, I baited
one with the remains of a pika, and next day had the satisfaction of
putting my hands on the robber, a beautiful, white-headed falcon. I
tried to tame this bird, as I had done a young golden eagle we had
picked up one day. My efforts proved a failure, so at last I gave the
bird his liberty once more. On another occasion we found a sheld-duck in
a hole in some rocks. It was long past the breeding season, but from the
down and grass in the hole, we came to the conclusion that this was her
nest. Subsequently we verified the facts that the ruddy sheld-duck nests
in holes in rocks at no small distance from water, while the common
sheld-duck nests in long burrows in the banks of the lagoons so common
throughout this country.
A few birds were added to our collection which, however, were in very
poor feather. There were also some nice butterflies to be seen, amongst
which was a rather fine swallow-tail.
While staying with Mr. Larson we had several opportunities of watching
the Mongol cowboys at their work in sorting, catching, branding and
breaking the wild little ponies in their herds. Instead of a lariat or
lassoo, the Mongol uses a long twenty-foot rod, little thicker than a
fishing rod, at the end of which is a looped thong of raw-hide. With
this he is very dexterous and can soon catch the wildest pony. Slipping
the loop over the pony’s head while going at top speed, the rider gives
it a twist to prevent it slipping. Then he jumps on to his own pony’s
crupper, bracing his thighs against the back of the saddle. His mount at
once slows down, and it is a strong animal, that being thus caught, can
continue to drag his captors about or break the raw-hide thong. Some of
these cowboys are so dexterous that they can put a complete halter upon
the pony they are after, by a double turn of the wrist as they slip the
loop over the animal’s head.
Branding and saddling are simple processes and are done without throwing
the pony. Often a pony shows great fight when being broken, and being
small, with a very short neck, is very hard to manage. Still the Mongols
are superb horsemen and seldom let an animal get the better of them.
Mr. Larson, who for fifteen years has travelled about amongst the
Mongols, and who is greatly respected and looked up to by them,
introduced us to some of his neighbours and friends. These simple,
kindly people treated us with great hospitality whenever we had occasion
to drop into one of their tents for a drink of milk. Always the best
they had was produced. Cheese and cakes would be spread before us, and
though it was only with the greatest difficulty that we could bring
ourselves to partake of these unwholesome looking delicacies, we always
did our best for fear of offending our hosts. The one thing that I could
not accustom myself to was mare’s milk, though Warrington always managed
a good big bowl of it; while Larson thought as much of it as the Mongols
themselves did. Mare’s milk is thicker than cow’s milk and has a sour
taste even when quite fresh. It is just as though some citric acid were
put into ordinary milk. This milk is very much more sustaining than
cow’s milk, it being possible for a man to subsist on it entirely, at
the same time doing a strenuous day’s work. We were told that the Mongol
cavalrymen, when on service, used mares and could live entirely upon
their milk. If this be true one can readily see how useful they could
become in military operations in such a country as Mongolia.
PLATE XII.
[Illustration:
PONY LASSOED.
]
[Illustration:
BREAKING A WILD PONY.
]
[Illustration:
A HERD OF MONGOL PONIES.
]
[Illustration:
EXAMINING TEETH OF WILD PONY.
]
[Illustration:
WATCHING THE RACES.
]
[Illustration:
BRANDING WILD PONY.
_Opposite p. 166._]
]
All the Mongols in this district live in tents, which they move from
time to time within a prescribed area. They often stay two, three or
even eight years in the same spot. Their tents consist of wooden
skeletons, the sides of which take the form of circular trellis work
fences capable of being extended or drawn in, and the roofs of which
resemble nothing so much as the framework and ribs of an immense
umbrella. Over the whole sheets of wool felt are laid and tied in place
by horse-hair ropes. These tents are capable of resisting very severe
weather and extremely low temperatures. Indeed they must needs be so,
for the plains are swept in summer by terrible storms, such as that
described in the preceding chapter, while in winter the temperature
falls below zero. A single low door in each tent affords ingress. The
floors are of beaten cowdung, and are usually raised slightly in the
centre, where an open iron stove holds the smouldering argols. In the
tents of the wealthier Mongols there is a raised dais on the side away
from the door, upon which the lord himself sleeps or the honoured guest
is seated on elegant woollen rugs, while he sips salted and buttered
tea. Round the sides of the tent are neatly placed small cupboards and
red lacquer boxes, in which the household belongings are kept, while on
the walls hang small mirrors, guns and powder-horns, whips, hobbles and
other articles of daily use. The walls and roofs are always jet black
from the smoke, which on fine days is allowed exit through holes in the
roof. The inmates sleep round the fireplace on skins and felts.
For a living these Mongols raise horses and cattle almost exclusively,
never cultivating the soil like those we saw in the Southern Ordos.
The district round Tabool is known as the Imperial Pastures, and is well
suited to stock-raising. Though included on the map in the province of
Chihli this district comes under the Banner of the Chagars.
The whole country from Lama Miao to Tabool reminded me of the North West
Territories of Canada, with its stretches of rich and rolling
grasslands, its numerous small lagoons and swamps and its herds of
grazing stock, or, where the Chinese had settled, its wide expanses of
wheat and mustard, growing luxuriantly upon the easily turned black
mould.
The outcome of the present struggle for the ownership of this land
cannot be foretold, but whoever gets it will be in possession of a fine
territory, only waiting to be developed, by the sinking of deep and
permanent wells and a system of irrigation, into the richest pastures,
or the most fertile arable land. From the point of view of the
agricultural development of this land, it would undoubtedly be best for
the Chinese to secure it; but one would hate to bid farewell to the
picturesque Mongols, and to see these wild, though simple, horsemen
driven from this their heritage by the materialistic, sordid race whose
proper home is south of the Wall.
We spent a very busy, but pleasant, fortnight at Tabool, after which we
packed our things and began our return journey to Kalgan. Travelling in
a southerly direction, we soon encountered Chinese settlements once
more, and perforce bade farewell to the free grassy plains of Mongolia.
From sixty li south of Tabool to the edge of the Plateau the land is all
under cultivation. We spent the first night at a wayside inn called
Ma-ni-t’u.
The following night we put up at a large village called Miao-t’an, after
an uneventful journey.
Next day we passed the ruins of an ancient town called Hsin-hua-ch’êng.
Here in a temple yard we saw two large automobiles and a wagon. One of
the former was painted a bright yellow and had a figure of the Imperial
Dragon on its sides. The others were painted grey. On inquiry we were
told that they had been placed there in October, 1911, in readiness to
carry the Manchu Imperial Family to Urga, in case the Revolutionaries
ever succeeded in driving the Manchus from Peking. These fine vehicles
now lay unsheltered and uncared for, rapidly falling into decay, sad
emblems of the fallen Manchu dynasty.
August 21 found us once more in Kalgan, and two days later we reached
Tientsin and the end of another year’s travel, sport and adventure on
the Sino-Mongolian Frontier.