FOLLOWING THE NAMORAN—WE SPLIT INTO THREE PARTIES—WE MEET SOME YOUNG MONGOLS—THEIR HOSPITALITY—LOBSAN—THE BANA TRIBES.

Since leaving the merchants, Barong in the Tsaidam had been our goal, but the very incomplete maps, and the small scale upon which they were drawn, gave us but scanty assistance.

At noon I took the latitude, and learnt that, according to Rockhill's map, we had already arrived just north of Barong, which lay to our east, and, according to our other map, we were just south of the town. Our inclination was, therefore, to accept the invitation of the pile of stones, and follow the narrow track over the sand; but our men were so averse to crossing the water again, that we reluctantly gave way to them. In order to cross this tract of wearisome country, and to save the mules from the sun's rays, we did not move on again till late in the afternoon, with the intention of continuing the march by moonlight.

Our plans, however, were destroyed by reason of the dark, misty evening that spread over us, so that we deemed it wiser to halt for the night. We could hear the rushing of the Namoran Gol on our right hand, so were able to get plenty of water.

From here we marched almost due north, still following the Namoran, which became split up into many small rivulets. The way was sandy, with loose stones, and the small bushes which we had reached were half covered on one side by the sand, which had been heaped up by the force of the wind. The morning was very hot, and a sore trial for our three veterans, who could only travel at a slow pace. Yet how could we halt in such a wilderness? At length we reached sandy hillocks, covered with a kind of waving furze bush, such as grows by the seaside, and growing in between was long, coarse, green grass, while the river became more than ever split up into little streams, most of which one could jump across. Most acceptable of all were the tracks we found of ponies and camels. Yet, tracks or no tracks, it was impossible for our three mules to proceed any further, and choosing the most shade-giving bush, sheltered from the wind by a large, sandy hillock, we called a halt, and let our mules loose to revel in the running water and the coarse grass.

We climbed up the highest mound in the neighbourhood, to reconnoitre the stretch of country below us. We could see a vast plain, covered to a great extent with bush, extending to a far-distant range of hills. And we fancied we could make out a river flowing at right angles to our own route, and reckoned quite rightly that this must be the Bayan Gol. Nevertheless, we could see no signs of people or villages. The sun by its brightness made the actual distinguishing of objects an uncertain undertaking. We were perplexed as to our further progress, for to have marched on aimlessly with our three mules, to their probable death, would have been a foolish decision.

We finally agreed to carry out the following plans. While Shahzad Mir and Shukr Ali remained encamped with the mules, Malcolm would take Lassoo, and I Esau, and set out in different directions with the intention of not returning till we had found people. Futhermore, in order that we might find the camp, the two men left behind were going to make huge bonfires every hour after dark. In bush country with no definite landmark, even those most skilled in the arts of a wanderer have a difficult job in returning to a spot they have once left.

Having divided the remnants of the donkey flesh amongst the three parties, we set out on our different errands. While Malcolm was to travel north, I took a line a little more easterly. Esau and I kept our eyes and ears open for any signs of mankind, and at first we saw camel and pony droppings, as we had seen previously that day, and afterwards chulas; then places where the streams had been dammed to divert their course. Then we saw several tracks running north by east. But I was not anxious to go further north, for I felt convinced we were leaving Barong on our right, and behind us.

Whilst Esau and I paused in our deliberations our doubts were removed by hearing the distant bark of a dog. We hastened on without more ado in the direction of the noise, now and again drawing up and listening in silence for a repetition of the barking to guide us. Each time we heard it more distinctly, and all the while the tracks we were following became more defined and more numerous. We were actually following the footsteps of a man! Then we both suddenly stopped, for we could hear the cheerful voice of a boy or girl singing. We both ran through the bush to learn who this was.

We could hardly credit the picture we caught a glimpse of through the thick bush. There was a fine flock of fat sheep being driven homewards, for it was now evening, by some young boys and girls riding barebacked their well-fed ponies. They were singing all the while from mere light-heartedness, ignorant of all trouble and the outside world, and that two strangers were hidden but a few yards behind. I watched in secret this scene of perfect worldly peace and happiness, before disturbing the partakers of it by a loud incongruous exclamation, "Hullo!" They turned round at once to meet this unheard-of sound, and though they received us without fear, their astonishment might well be pardoned. We walked along with them, unable to understand each other, till we found ourselves surrounded by several men, one or two amongst whom were able to understand Esau's Tibetan talk.

They were all nice-looking fellows, with pleasant, smiling faces, of stout build, with strong arms and deep chests. As for the women they were quite becoming, with their bronzed faces illuminated by a reddish tint on each cheek. The youngsters all looked the picture of plump health and happiness. Amongst the people in this district I never saw any kind of illness or disfigurement. After the preliminary salutations of "Where are you going?" "Where do you come from?" "Who are you?" etc., we made a small wood fire on the ground, and squatting round it began to talk over matters, and perhaps the thought uppermost in our minds was to convince them of the fact that we were really very hungry.

It was quite evident that the people amongst whom we had fallen were of a hospitable and kindly disposition. They were the Tsokpo or Sokpor Mongols. It was finally arranged that Esau should return with two of them, all mounted, to our camp, and bring on the caravan to this place, while I was to stop with them and await its arrival. A bright moon had just risen, which made it an easy night for travelling.

As soon as Esau had departed they beckoned to me to follow them. We went at a fast walk, as we twisted in and out between the bushes, all looking strange by moonlight. After half an hour, they suddenly turned to their right, and there I saw a clear, circular piece of ground, surrounded and concealed by bushes. In the centre was a hole in the ground, with a fire burning inside it, and around were arranged some huge cooking-pots, which were boiling something or other. Around this were squatting men and women, evidently waiting for their supper to be cooked. On one side were a number of sacks piled up, which I guessed contained grain. I was terribly hungry, and could scarcely keep my eyes from the cooking-pots, which just fitted the holes made in the ground, by means of which the contents were being boiled. I was made to sit down by the fire against the sacks, when my host, who had guided me here, and appeared to be chief of the party, opened one of the pots, and forthwith pulled out a well-boiled shoulder of mutton, which I took from his hands and was soon gnawing at; on its completion my host presented me with a leg and afterwards with a neck. Then I began to reflect within myself what a reputation for an Englishman's greed I was bringing amongst these people, so I stoutly refused his pressing invitations to accept more, and contented myself with several doses of hot soup and tea, to which was added butter and tsampa.

At the conclusion of this much appreciated repast, during which each member of the party selected from any of the pots whichever bit of mutton he fancied, alternating his or her diet with the tea and tsampa or soup, they began to examine my clothes and belongings. Everything created the greatest curiosity; the use of my compass, which I tried to explain, was full of interest to them, but the greatest astonishment was shown at the ticking of my watch, which passed round the hands of the entire circle.

After we had finished our smoking and the examination was exhausted, men and women dispersed to their own particular corners for sleep, while I, lying down between two of them, was covered up with warm sheepskins, and soon fell asleep too. I was aroused long before daylight to find that our little caravan had arrived, and shortly afterwards, about 3 a.m., Malcolm himself appeared, accompanied by a number of friendly Mongols—for he, too, had come across them, and had met with equal hospitality. We soon had a big fire burning, and the kettle boiling; and whilst our men sat chatting with the Mongols, in the thorough enjoyment of their tea, tsampa, and butter, and of meeting strangers once again, Malcolm and I wrapped ourselves up in our blankets to sleep till sunrise.

On awaking from a refreshing rest we found our men still busily engaged in mixing up the tea and tsampa, whilst around and about lay Mongols sleeping soundly; everywhere, too, there lay scattered all our belongings, an easy prey to anybody who might feel inclined to take them. From the moment we fell in with these trustful, hospitable nomads, we instinctively felt that our guns, our ammunition, in fact, all we possessed, were just as safe amongst them from robbery as we had found them to be when travelling with the Tibetan merchants. As for our three noble mules, they were now enjoying what must have been to them a paradise. Everywhere grew rich grass and fruit bushes, intersected by small streams, and there they wandered knee-deep, grazing to their heart's content, doubtless entirely forgetful of all the trying times they had carried us through. It was no small pleasure to ourselves either, to see them thus provided for, and we agreed never to place another load on their backs as long as they remained in our care, but to hire, by hook or crook, ponies from the Mongols, whilst they should march the last 300 miles to the Chinese border with ease and comfort.

As soon as all were awake, and whilst a breakfast of more mutton and tea was being discussed, it was arranged that we should move on a few miles, to a spot where we could better bargain for supplies of food and for ponies to take us to the Chinese border.

The chief of the Mongols amongst whom we were living was a man called Lobsan, and it was close to his home in the bush that we had taken our things. It was soon common news throughout the few miles of bush wherein these nomads were residing that two strangers had arrived who were anxious to purchase food. Lobsan was a man well known throughout the district, and being a man of superior energy and intellect, he carried no small weight amongst his neighbours; besides, he had travelled more than the majority of them—he had made the journey three times to China, and in addition to that he had resided some months in the capital, Lhassa, and had become initiated in the studies of the Buddhist religion; he was, in consequence, acquainted with the different routes to Lhassa. He explained to us how we had traversed the Namoran route instead of the Burhan Bota, which was the longer of the two; he pointed out, too, the exact position of the town of Barong Tsaidam, agreeing admirably with our own calculations; above all, he strengthened and confirmed our information with regard to our discovery of the source of the Chu Ma river, an upper tributary of the Yang-tse.

We made our encampment under the shade of a large fruit tree, where Lobsan's stout ponies had brought our goods, and as we sat there with Lobsan by our side, men and women flocked in from all quarters to try their fortune in this novel market. It was soon current that our ready rupees were the exchange; rupees they preferred to most other things we could suggest, such as knives, watches or saffron. The only article they really asked for in return was "sin," or needles, of which we hadn't a single one. Some of them brought tsampa, or tulshi (flour), or mar (butter), or chura (cheese), each bringing from a few pounds down to half a pound of any article, and, as we had to lay in at least a fortnight's supply, a great deal of bargaining had to be negotiated. All this was managed through Lobsan, who probably received some slight remuneration from each of the successful bargains. As a rule, we paid a rupee for four pounds of tsampa, or flour, and the same price for a pound of butter, while two sheep cost us three and a half and four and a half rupees respectively.

As each Mongol turned up he would say what the price of his bag of flour or skin of butter was, and of course more than what was right. Many others would be standing around, watching with interest the new scene that presented itself, and see us demur with surprise at the high price that was asked; yet, although the price was never mentioned, all knew well what it was. The bargaining was carried out under cover of the sleeve of their sheepskin cloaks. Lobsan, after interviewing the vendor in this manner, would take hold of my hand, concealed inside his own sleeve, and seize four of my fingers, signifying that four rupees was the price of the goods; whereupon, looking him in the face, I would seize three of his fingers, or three and a half to represent three and a half rupees, as the case might be, as my price, and this information would at once be transmitted to all onlookers in the same fashion. Although every bargain was carried out in secrecy, without speaking a word, still all knew just as well what was taking place as if the tongue, instead of hidden fingers, had been the medium adopted.

Our attempts at purchasing some of their ponies were unsuccessful, for with our finances in such a crippled state, we could not, had we been willing, have paid the price they demanded, namely, 50 to 120 rupees for an altogether worn-out and aged baggage pony.

It took very little to amuse thoroughly these good-natured, unsophisticated nomads; even our sponge, which we at length had leisure and opportunity to make use of, attracted their curiosity. Still even more astonishing to them was a half-filled tin of Cadbury's cocoa, which they would insist could be nothing else than snuff. As Malcolm thus engaged their attention, I took a snap-shot of the little group with my kodak. As soon as they discovered this in my hands all was wonderment again, yet so trustful and unsuspicious were these people that they were not at all averse to being photographed, with the exception of one lady mounted on horseback; yet even she unwittingly fell a victim, as may be seen on the following page.

At our revolvers, when we fired off six shots without reloading, they were thoroughly filled with bewilderment, and standing up a slab of caked mud some twenty paces off as a target, they signed for me to try my skill upon it. Six successful holes redoubled their astonishment, and proved to them how easy it was for us to travel through districts which were considered dangerous, although we were so few. One of the more influential Mongols, seizing my unloaded revolver in an agitated and warlike fashion, snapped off the trigger six times in different directions, each time shouting out the word "Bana!" while all around laughed and acquiesced in the meaning of this man's frantic gestures.

It appeared that in order to reach China we should have to pass through a district inhabited by the Bana tribes, who are noted for their predatory habits.

They are represented on the map by the name "Bana-khasum," "sum," meaning three—that is to say, there are three of these Bana tribes, who live round and about the regions of the Koko Nor Lake. These three tribes are again subdivided into eighteen small tribes, each with a separate chief, the whole being under the Sining Amban or Tsongt'u. It is on account of these and other tribes that merchants are afraid to traverse the country singly, and the reason why these Tsokpo Mongols so seldom make the journey to the Chinese frontier. It was fear of these Bana tribes that caused us so much delay before we could induce them to fit us out with sufficient ponies and accompany us over our last few hundred miles. The Bana men have been known to come even as far as Barong itself on a raid, and being better armed and more numerous than the Tsokpo Mongols, these latter live in no slight dread of going near their warlike neighbours.