The first theft we were conscious of was perpetrated during our stay at Tsagan-tuguruk. Hitherto we had relied implicitly on the honesty of the Mongols, leaving all our small things lying about at the mercy of our numerous visitors. But now a few nick-nacks that our lama had asked me to take charge of for him, were stolen out of my cart during the night. We were very angry at this, and proclaimed aloud that we would allow no Mongol to come near our tent till the thief was discovered, and the property restored. It was impossible, however, to stem the tide; and it seemed hard, moreover, to punish the whole tribe for the misdeed of one who might have no connection with the neighbourhood. We deemed it quite fair, however, to stop their biscuit and brandy. On the return of the lama, we reported the theft, but he received the news with perfect equanimity. In the evening he got two other lamas to perform the prescribed incantation for the purpose of discovering the thief. They performed their task in a Mongol yourt with bell, book, and candle (literally, as regards the bell and the book), reciting many yards of lama prayers, while they told their beads. Our lama had asked us for some wine for the ceremony. This was poured into three small brass cups which stood on the table (the family box, or chest of drawers) during the ceremony. It was too tedious to see it out, but our lama informed us next morning that the incantation had been successful (of course)—that they had discovered who the thief was, but as to catching him and recovering the property, that seemed as far off as ever.
On the second day of our halt the Kitat arrived, in company with a friend, both on camels, and with my pony, "Dolonor." He had managed to lose his own camel in the chase, and had come up to us on one borrowed from his companion. The lama gave him a cold reception, lamenting bitterly over the loss of his camel. As to the pony, he came full of spirits, but being rather poor when he ran away, the six days' hard hunting in the desert had not improved his condition, and I wished they had left him where he was.
We were two days kicking our heels about in the utmost impatience before our lama deigned to make his appearance with the new camels. As soon as he came, Tellig started on an expedition to see his friends, who also lived some six or eight miles off, and did not return till the next day. The lama, instead of preparing for the journey, went dilly-dallying about, drinking tea and gossiping with all the old women in the country, which we considered a wanton waste of our time, and we exhibited the feelings natural to us under such circumstances. The lama tried every device to keep us till the 10th, but we were desperate, and forced them to commence packing late at night, which was no easy matter in the dark, with unwilling workmen. Tellig was civil and good-natured. The Kitat showed the cloven foot so disagreeably as to provoke some rough treatment, which led to his leaving our service. I suspect this had already been arranged, for a substitute was found at a moment's notice. The new camels not having been tried in harness, were first put into the empty carts, and carefully led about for some time, before they could be depended on for steadiness. All this occupied a good many hours in a very cold night, and it was midnight before we got away from Tsagan-tuguruk. Two friends of the lama accompanied us on our first stage, which was only a few miles, for we were halted before daylight. The lama's business matters had not been quite settled, and he had a few more last words with his two friends. The packing, so hurriedly done in the dark, had all to be done over again.
While these little matters were being arranged, we had time to take stock of our new establishment. The camels were certainly fat and fresh, humps full and erect, backs whole, with only the marks of old scars. The camel department could not be in a better state than it was. Kitat's substitute turned out to be a lama, a good-natured looking fellow, whom we afterwards discovered to be well-meaning but stupid. He could speak a few words of Chinese, and we therefore christened him, in contradistinction to our chief of the staff, who was the lama par excellence, the "Kitat lama." We further observed that the lama had somehow got rid of his pony, and now rode a camel, which looked ominous for the success or even the preservation of our equestrian stock; for the lama hated camels, and never rode one himself when he could help it.
CHAPTER VIII.
MONGOLIA—continued
The grass was still copiously sprinkled with onions. As we advanced we crossed some marshy ground with a good deal of water, enough to make it necessary to pick the way judiciously, for the camel hates water or slippery mud. Their broad soft feet don't sink into the mud sufficiently to enable them to get a good foot-hold like a horse, and their long weedy legs are so loosely knit together, that they run a great risk of splitting up when their feet slip. A caravan of seventeen camels, that had accompanied us since morning, took a wrong road across the marshes and stuck, the camels being unable to proceed. Our lama took a round-about road, for which we abused him at the time; but when he saw the other caravan brought up all standing on the short cut, he merely pointed it out to us with a triumphant chuckle, and quietly asked, "Who knows the road?"
A 60-camel caravan was passed encamped near the marsh. It was from Urga, and probably from Kiachta, loaded with merchandise for China, and for account of Chinese. Two celestials were in charge of the goods, jolly roystering fellows, with whom we stopped awhile and held such conversation as to the road, the state of the pastures, time occupied, &c., as will usually occur to travellers in such regions. It was curious to notice how untruthful these travellers' stories generally were. They seemed to say whatever came uppermost in their minds, as a man of a happy disposition will often say, "It is a fine day," when it is raining cats and dogs. But yet if you are to believe nothing of what you hear on the road, you will deprive yourself of a great deal of information which might be valuable; and if you believe all, you will keep yourself and your people constantly in hot water. It is difficult to steer a safe course between too much credulity on the one hand, and too little faith on the other.