From Pekin to Calais by Land

by Harry De Windt

Towards evening of the same day we traversed a tract of sand about a mile across, so deep that we had to hitch three camels on to each cart. Even then they could hardly get the heavy, clumsy vehicles through it, and we had to literally put our shoulders to the wheel. The sand was nearly up to our knees, and so fine that it actually worked its way into our boots through the sole and the leather. Just beyond this the sand is succeeded by hard gravelly soil of a deep red colour, covered so thickly in parts with transparent stones and crystals, that the ground looked here and there like inlaid mosaic. Quantities of these stones are sent to Pekin, to be converted into buttons, snuff-bottle-stoppers, &c. They are also much sought after by the ladies of Ourga for head ornaments. Most of the pebbles were a species of yellow or red agate, and I picked up a couple of very pretty violet ones——presumably amethysts.

There is not a blade of grass or vegetation in this part of the desert, nor are there any rocks or hills to break the dead-level of the plain, as flat and smooth as a billiard-table or well-kept garden-walk, for miles and miles. It therefore struck us as curious to come, while walking a few yards in front of the caravan, upon the letters “A. L.” formed in capitals three feet long, by a kind of creeper which had firmly taken root in the hard, gravelly soil. Had the letters been irregularly or fantastically formed, they might have suggested a freak of nature, but they were clear, distinct, and as well formed as any on this page. How they came there must remain a mystery. They could not have been the work of Russians (for their L is totally different to that of other European languages) much less that of a Mongol or Chinaman. I must own that I am superstitious, and hoped that the mysterious characters might bode no evil to one of my greatest friends bearing the same initials in England.

Just after sunset three mounted Mongols rode out of the dusk, and, galloping furiously past the caravan, disappeared in the direction we were going. They seemed to have started out of the ground, so suddenly did they make their appearance. An event of this sort always creates excitement in the desert, for as a general rule every one stops and exchanges words when meeting a caravan on the lonely highway. For this reason perhaps our Mongols did not like the look of the strangers, and Jee Boo, at the request of Moses, begged us to load our revolvers. We did so, but saw nothing more of the mysterious horsemen, who Sylvia positively assured us were robbers, who would have attacked us had they not found us too strong for them, and on the defensive.

We passed a couple of yourts shortly afterwards, smoke-blackened, shapeless dwellings, about half the size of an ordinary Mongol tent, with a small hole for a door, out of which a man and a woman crawled and offered us argol for sale. More revolting specimens of the human race I have never seen. We saw no sheep or ponies about; indeed there was nothing to feed them upon. Hard by lay a dead camel, the stench from which nearly knocked us down fifty yards off, and on which the poor wretches had been subsisting for several days. Other food they had none, though there was a well brimful of clear cold water a quarter of a mile farther on, at which we filled the barrels, and, for the first time for ten days, washed our hands and faces.

We managed to get some sleep in the carts, for the first and only time that night, for the ground was as smooth as a billiard-table, and there were no stones or boulders to disturb our slumbers. Nor did I wake till past one o’clock, when the caravan halted.

Looking out of the cart window, I at first imagined that we had arrived at Ourga, for we were encamped, apparently, under the walls of a city. At the same time it struck me as strange, that a silence so dead should reign over such a large place. The illusion was complete, and I was never more astonished to find that what I had taken for walls, towers and roofs of houses, were in reality nothing more than a group of enormous blocks of granite. Some must have measured quite fifty feet high by twenty broad, the space of ground they occupied being considerably over a square mile. Had I thought for a moment, I must have known that stone buildings in Mongolia are extremely rare, almost unknown. A Mongol Tartar has the greatest objection to living in a permanent dwelling of any sort or kind, and even Ourga, the capital, is composed almost exclusively of tents. Notwithstanding, one could scarcely realize that it was an optical delusion, that the mimic domes and minarets standing out clear and distinct, as a pen-and-ink sketch against the starlit sky, were but masses of unhewn stone, and the work of nature, not of man.

Our Mongols were asleep, and Lancaster; but late as it was, and at the sacrifice of my remaining rest, I could not resist the temptation of exploring the place, first taking the precaution of arming myself. It looked just the kind of spot that robbers or marauders, had there been any about, would have selected for an encampment.

I found the interior as curious as the outside, for the rocks were placed as regularly, and the ways as well defined, as the streets and squares of a modern city. The deathlike stillness, and queer fantastic shadows, thrown by the bright moon-rays, gave one an uncanny feeling, and I took care to keep the caravan fires in sight. Although outside the desert was hard and gravelly, the sand here was knee-deep. Suddenly while walking down one of the smaller paths my foot struck sharply against a small square stone sunk deeply into the sand. On examining this more closely, I found that on it was rudely carved a Russian character and a cross. It was evidently a grave. Having no desire to prolong my investigations after this, I was about to rise and return to the caravan, when an indefinable impression stole over me that something, and something human and living, was near me. The feeling may have been produced by liver, perhaps by instinct. At any rate, it was correct, for on turning I found myself next to one of the most repulsive and hideous creatures I have ever beheld. It was impossible to tell in the dim light whether it was a man or a woman, for its body was covered with shapeless rags, its head with a mass of grey tangled hair that hid the features. I have seldom felt more uncomfortable, and would at that moment gladly have given five pounds to be back safe and snug in my cart. At any rate, I thought, the sooner out of this the better, so seizing my opportunity, I dodged past the figure, and walked quickly away in the direction of the camp fires. Guessing my intention, it pursued me for a few yards, struggling with difficulty through the deep sand, but I soon distanced it, and only breathed freely again when I had got out of the place, and was once more in the open.

The caravan was in a state of commotion when I returned, for I had been away quite an hour, and having told no one of my intention, they were, on waking, at a loss to know where I had got to. When I related my adventures to Moses, his face was a picture. “Moo chim” (bad men), he kept repeating, which meant that the place, according to Mongols, is haunted, and that no one who can avoid it ever penetrates into its silent, mysterious depths by day or night. Whether the creature I saw was a ghost, I know not. If so, it was a very dirty one. It would have needed the pencil of a Doré, the pen of a Rider Haggard, to describe the place, which was certainly the most marvellous freak of nature I have ever come across.

I made inquiries at Kiakhta, but could never find out anything to explain, geologically, the presence of these stones, and their peculiar position. All the Russian merchants could tell me was that a Cossack in charge of the mail had been buried there seven years ago, and that the place ever since was said by the Mongols to be infested with evil spirits. It seems strange that no efforts have ever been made by the professors belonging to the College of Kiakhta to unravel the mystery, but the latter appeared to give more of their leisure hours to cards, vodka, and flirtation with their neighbours’ wives than to scientific research.