On May 17 Omsk was excluded from the Vatka (station), and by this indirect means became aware that the Supreme Governor was returning from the front. The Cossack Guard lined up outside, while detachments of Russian infantry in English uniform occupied the platform. The Russian Tommies looked quite smart, and except for their long, narrow, triangular bayonets, might easily have been mistaken for English troops. While awaiting the train, General Knox informed me that two of our proposals, "Women's suffrage" and "Universal education," had been cut out by the reactionaries. Why are the churches of the world so hostile to the popular education of the people? The Church is quite prepared to allow the people to receive educational instruction if controlled by the priests. It prefers to leave them in ignorance and the easy prey of Bolshevik charlatanism rather than allow free play for intelligent thinking. Women's suffrage was opposed by quite a different set of men, mostly those who make enormous display of deference to drawing-room ladies, and look upon us Englishmen as wanting in gallantry because we do not kiss every feminine hand we shake. On the whole I think it is good to have pushed them ahead so far. Measured by Russian standards, it amounts to a revolution in ideas of government. The great thing just now is to fix some point beyond which the pendulum shall not be allowed to swing towards reaction. The workmen are sick of strife and would gladly go straight back to the old rÉgime as an easy way of escape from Bolshevism. This is the danger from which English diplomacy has tried, and is trying, to guard the Russian people if possible.

Thus, having finished my work at Omsk, I asked that arrangements might be made as quickly as possible to transport my escort and myself to Vladivostok. The arrangements were completed by May 21, when I announced myself ready to begin the first stage of my journey homeward. The Supreme Governor surprised me by proposing to visit me in my carriage at the Vatka to say "Good-bye." At 7 P.M. he came, attended by his aide-de-camp; he was very gracious in his thanks for my services to the Russian people. He said my voice, presence and influence had aroused the better elements to throw off the feeling of despair which had so universally settled upon them. He did not presume to calculate the good I had done, though none appreciated it better than himself, since we had been thrown by circumstances into personal contact with each other. Without attempting to form an estimate of his character, I considered his visit and words the act of a gentleman, and as such I appreciated it.

I could but recall the last time he visited me in those dark, doubtful days of November, when I, who had no thought or place in my make-up for the word "Dictator," suddenly found myself in the presence of him who had that moment assumed such a position, and what was more serious for me, found myself forced on my own authority, unaided by one word of warning or counsel from others, instantly to decide not only my own attitude but also, to some extent, that of my country to this last act in the drama of a people grown desperate. Once having given my promise to help, he never found that help withheld at critical moments later. The British forces were few, but they were disciplined and knew their own mind, and this was what every other party, both Russian and Allied, lacked. Every Allied force had its "Politicals" at hand, and therefore were powerless for any purpose. The Fates had sent ours to Vladivostok, 5,000 versts east, at the very moment when their presence and general political policy would have paralysed correct military action. The month which intervened before they could exert direct influence upon the situation enabled us to consolidate the new orientation. The greater part of this time we were "in the air," having cut our own communications, and no countermanding orders could interrupt or confuse the nerve centre. At first the "Politicals" were inclined to be angry, but with such a tower of strength as General Knox in support they soon came to look upon the proceedings as a fait accompli. Later they confessed that their absence at the supreme moment was the act of a wise Providence. The very nature of their business (had they been present) would have created delays and difficulties that might have proved fatal to success.

Except for some quaint fetish about the necessity for maintaining the usual diplomatic forms, there is no necessity for delay in emergencies of this description. If an ordinarily intelligent Englishman, with a fair knowledge of English history and a grasp of the traditions and mentality of his countrymen, cannot carry on, how are people miles away, with no opportunity to visualise the actual situation, to instruct him? Diplomatic methods and forms are all right for leisurely negotiations, but are useless in urgent and dangerous occasions. If my work fails, as even now it may, I shall be subject to severe criticism; but I shall get that even if it succeeds, so what does it matter so long as in my own mind I did the best in the circumstances?

My journey east was broken at Krasnoyarsk to enable me to interview the new commander, General Rosanoff, who had taken in hand the suppression of the revolt of the Lettish peasants north of the railway. South of the line all hostile elements had been dispersed. The line cut through the centre of the Bolshevik field of operations. The Czechs guarded the actual railway, and while they prevented large forces from moving across it, they took but little trouble to prevent miscreants from tampering with the rails, as was evidenced by the scores of derailed trains in all stages of destruction strewn along the track. This naturally involved great material loss and, what was still worse, a huge toll of innocent human life. One train, a fast passenger, accounted for two hundred women and children, besides uncounted men. Fairly large Russian forces were now placed at General Rosanoff's disposal, and by a wide turning movement from Krasnoyarsk in a north-easterly direction, and with a large cavalry force operating towards the north-west from Irkutsk, the whole gang would, it was hoped, be herded towards the centre, and a few weeks would probably liquidate the whole disturbance. The Krasnoyarsk and the Ussurie movements of the Bolsheviks were under the direction of able officers appointed by the Red Guard Headquarters at Moscow, with whom they were in constant communication.

Passing Irkutsk, we again struck the Baikal—looking more glorious than before. The warm south-west winds had cleared the snow from the western hills and thawed the ice from that half of the sea. The other half was still ice-bound. In the morning sunshine the snow-covered mountains in the east pierced the heavens with the radiance of eternal day. The disappearance of the sun only adds to their beauty; they alone seem to know no night. As we travelled round under the shadow of these giants the temperature fell many degrees below zero, and the cold from the water penetrated the carriages, necessitating fires and warm furs, in spite of the June sunshine.

I had received intimation that it would be of service to the Omsk Government if I would call upon Colonel Semianoff and use my good offices and my newly-conferred honour as a Siberian Cossack Ataman to recall this erring son of Muscovy to the service of the State. I knew that British pressure had been applied to persuade the Japanese to cease their financial and moral support—both open and secret—to this redoubtable opponent of the Russian Government, and it was rumoured that British wishes had at last been complied with. It was common knowledge that the illegal floggings, murders, and robberies committed under the alleged authority of Colonel Semianoff would not have remained unpunished a day if he had not been under the protection of one of the most numerously represented Allied forces. Whatever faults may be alleged against Admiral Koltchak, cruelty or injustice cannot be included among them. I well remember his fury when it was reported to him that some eighty workmen had been illegally flogged by Semianoff's soldiers at Chita. His poor dilapidated reserves were ordered to move at once to their protection. Semianoff prepared his armoured trains and troops to receive them, but the same Allied Power which fed, clothed, and armed his troops kept at bay those who were ordered to avenge the wrongs of the Russian workmen.

On another occasion I remember Admiral Koltchak's almost hopeless despair when some truculent officers had used their weapons and badges of rank to secure the persons of some Bolshevik prisoners, and anticipating the decision of the court about to try them, shot them in cold blood. He at once executed the officers and men who handed them over, as well as such of those who took part in the conspiracy, even though they claimed to be merely the avengers of their own murdered families. Stern, impartial justice is part and parcel of this remarkable man's character. It was this very trait which made Semianoff and the Supreme Governor natural enemies.

The day that I arrived at Chita it was officially announced that Semianoff had made his submission to the authority of Koltchak, and had accepted an appointment in the Russian Army. My task therefore changed its character; the proposed admonishment became a congratulation in a very frank and friendly half-hour's interview, the colonel returning the visit to my carriage later. Colonel Semianoff is one of the most striking personalities I have met in Russia; a man of medium height, with square broad shoulders, an enormous head, the size of which is greatly enhanced by the flat, Mongol face, from which gleam two clear, brilliant eyes that rather belong to an animal than a man. The whole pose of the man is at first suspicious, alert, determined, like a tiger ready to spring, to rend and tear, but in repose the change is remarkable, and with a quiet smile upon the brown face the body relaxes. Colonel Semianoff is a very pleasant personality. His great physical strength has caused the Japanese to name him "Samurai," or "Brave Knight of the Field," and I think that is a good description of his character. Relentless and brave, kindness nevertheless finds a part in his make-up. The princes of Mongolia have asked him to become their emperor, and should he choose this path a whirlwind will pass over the neighbouring lands. Perhaps underneath he is, after all, a good Russian—time will tell. If his conversion is real he will add a tower of strength to the Russian fighting forces.

At Harbin I heard a full explanation of the reason for the Mongolians approaching Semianoff to become their emperor. Mongolia previous to the Revolution was considered as under a loose sort of Russian protection. Since the break-up of the Russian Empire the Japanese have cast longing eyes upon this extensive country, which is supposed to belong to both Russia and China but in reality it belongs to neither. The Japanese have roamed all over the country during these last two years, and have spent time and money lavishly in propaganda. They first tried to orientate the Mongol mind towards a direct connection with themselves, but their avarice and conceit offend all the people with whom they come into contact. This direct method of getting control of Mongolia had therefore to be abandoned in favour of a round-about but more dangerous policy. Colonel Semianoff is only half Russian, his mother being a Mongolian woman of high birth. He speaks Mongolian perfectly, and the Mongolians claim him for their own. Semianoff admitted to me personally that he had been subsidised all through by Japan. It was the Japanese who called the Mongolian princes together and prevailed upon them to offer Semianoff the title of Emperor of Mongolia. He had other fish to fry, however, but when his other schemes fail, as I think they must, he will be quite ready to play the Japanese game in Mongolia as faithfully as he did in Siberia. Semianoff will be the puppet, but Japan will pull the strings; that at least is their hope and belief.

About thirty versts west of Manchuli our train was stopped by a red flag, and a railway workman informed us of a raid upon a homestead by the side of the railway, the robbers having decamped two hours before our arrival. The father had two bullets through his chest and one through the right side of his neck, and had crawled a distance of over a verst to give information. He was taken up on our train, and we went forward to the scene of the tragedy. In the small wooden house, covered with loose feathers, lay the dead body of the mother with her unborn baby, near by lay a girl of about ten with her head terribly wounded. In an outhouse was the body of their Chinese boy. My hospital orderly rendered what aid was possible to the girl, who was carried by Madame Frank to my carriage for conveyance to the hospital at Manchuli. A civilian doctor declared both cases hopeless, and the depositions of the man were taken. Briefly thus:

When the Bolsheviks first occupied Manchuli a railway workman of anarchist tendencies was appointed Soviet Commissar of the district. Afterwards, when the Bolshevik power was destroyed and their forces were driven off the railway, the Bolshevik bands took to the forest, some engaging in running contraband over the Chinese frontier, others forming themselves into bands who not only robbed the isolated peasantry, but forced young men to join them, and afterwards levied toll upon large villages and small towns. About three in the morning this Bolshevik Commissar knocked at the cottage door and asked the father to let him come in, as he was very tired, having had a long journey with contraband. Believing him to be alone, the man opened the door. The room was immediately filled with armed men, who demanded his savings or his life. The commissar, from his knowledge of such matters, believing his savings to be in the feather pillow, ripped it open and found 4,600 roubles. Having collected all the other small articles of value in the house, these innocent children of the Revolution held consultation on the necessity of killing everybody who knew them to be Bolsheviks, so that the crime should be cast upon the Chinese robber gangs who occasionally raid Russian territory. This important point in the regeneration of Russia settled, they shot the man in the chest, the bullet coming out by the shoulder-blade. The wife, begging for the life of her husband, was bayoneted, and the aroused Chinese workman was dispatched with a rifle. Then these harmless idealists proceeded to depart. So far they had not touched the girl, but the father, on regaining consciousness, heard the closed door open again, saw the leader of the "comrades" re-enter and pick up a small axe near the fire, with which he proceeded to smash the head of the child. Nature in its terrible revolt gave the father the power to raise himself slightly from the floor in a vain effort to grapple with this representative of the new rÉgime. The commissar shouted: "What, still alive!" and fired two more point-blank shots at the prostrate man.

It was entirely due to the tenacity of the father that the object of the killing was frustrated and the identification of the scoundrels with the Bolshevik commanders operating in this neighbourhood completed. I had no time to pick up the trail and punish the murderers. What sort of punishment the Tommies would have decided as necessary to fit the crime is better imagined than described!

It was June when we passed over the Hinghan range, a series of sand mountains of great extent which form the breeding-ground for numerous herds of horses who spread themselves over the slopes and plains and sometimes endanger the safety of the railway. Snow was falling in clouds, and banked itself against the rails and telegraphs in a surprising manner considering the time of the year. The summer of this wild region lasts about two months—July and August—during which time the sand becomes hot, and travelling is not comfortable. After crossing the summit the plains fell gradually away, enabling the trains to move with great rapidity, and in less than two days we struck Harbin, and donned our topees and tropical clothes.

Harbin is the centre of Chinese and Russian political and financial intrigue. Other races take a fair hand in the business, but the predominance must be conceded to these two. There is some sort of national feeling amongst the worst type of Russian speculator, but none amongst the Chinese. The Harbin Chinaman is perfectly denationalised, and ought, therefore, according to some standards of political reckonings, to be the most ideal citizen in the world; but the world who knows him hopes that for ever he may be exclusively confined to Harbin. I had a long conversation with General Ghondati, one of the most level-headed living statesmen of the old rÉgime. All his hopes are centred on the success of Admiral Koltchak in his efforts to secure order to enable the National Assembly to consider the question of a Constitutional Monarchy on England's pattern to be established at Moscow. If this cannot be, he fears Russia's travail will last longer and may be fatal to her existence. He was not himself opposed to a Federal Republic, but was certain that without a head the undisciplined semi-oriental elements would never accept the abolition of absolutism as final. The Russian people have it in their bones to obey a leader; their warlike nature precludes the possibility of their continued loyalty to a junta, however able. A crown on top, with a parliament to control and direct, would be the happiest solution of Russia's present difficulties. He summed his theory up in these words: "A properly elected parliament to make the law and rule, but there must be a monarch to issue its orders."

Though this is the expressed opinion of what the Bolshevik would term one of the "old rÉgime," it is nevertheless the openly-expressed opinion of the sensible leaders of every class of Russian society except two—the Bolsheviks at one end, and the Absolutists at the other. More than once already these two extremes have come close together to frustrate the possibility of a compromise on constitutional lines. They openly declare that, unless power is given to either one or the other, they would prefer that the present anarchy should continue. It is not the first time in revolutionary history that the adherents of autocracy (Royalist and otherwise) have preferred the ruin of their country rather than lose their own personal power.

Ghondati is a clear-headed patriot, and I am surprised that his counsel has not been sought for in this supreme moment of his country's history. His ideas relating to recognition by the Powers were rather remarkable. He did not think that any country could give help to Russia without either asking for conditions or being suspected of doing so. The only exception was England. The reason England is not suspected is that her Empire is so vast and varied in character that she has all the raw material for her trade and all the space she requires for her surplus population. Her help, unlike that of any other State so far, has been unselfish and unconditional. Ghondati quite saw that "this fact was producing a steady and permanent orientation of Russian opinion towards England, which, if cultivated by British statesmanship, would eventually give my country everything she required, while those whose help was always surrounded with conditions would have great difficulty to retain the advantages they secured only under the pressure of circumstances."