From the Arctic Ocean to the Yellow Sea

by Julius M. Price

For reasons best known to the authorities, the Consulate is situated at least two miles from the city, and stands quite alone, out in the desert, some distance from any habitation. Most of the few travellers, I believe, who have visited this out-of-the-way corner of the world have been received and entertained under its hospitable roof during the few days their stay has usually lasted, for accommodation in Ourga itself is very difficult to find, owing to the few Europeans living there. Putting up at a Mongol yourt being, of course, out of the question, and as I had come with the express intention of studying this city and its inhabitants, so little known, I presently decided that I should have but little opportunity of so doing if I fixed my quarters so far from the centre of interest; so I made up my mind to put up with anything in the shape of accommodation in Ourga itself. I received a very kind and truly Russian welcome from the Consul, M. Feodroff. The fact of my being a total stranger, unprovided even with a letter of introduction to him, appeared to make no difference. He had heard I was coming, so took it for granted that I, like other travellers, would stay at the Consulate. On my informing him of my desire to find, if possible, a lodging in the city itself, he good-naturedly offered to do his best to help me, but added that he doubted my being able to get anything comfortable, as there were only seven European houses, and these so small that their accommodation was naturally very limited. In the mean time he begged me to make myself at home at his place.

The Consulate, I found, was quite a little colony in itself, consisting of the men employed by the consul and their families, each having their own quarters. One wing of the building was used as a post-office; for, although on Chinese territory, the postal service across Mongolia and through China to Peking and Tientsin is conducted entirely by Russians. Besides the actual personnel of the establishment, there was also a guard of five Cossacks under the command of a non-commissioned officer. In spite, however, of the attractions of the comfortable quarters I was in, I reminded my hospitable host the very next day of his promise to help me find a room in the city, so shortly after we drove into Ourga together, with a mounted Cossack galloping on ahead, as is always the case whenever the consul leaves his house. After a lot of persuasion one of the merchants agreed to take me in as a boarder at his house, and to give me half a room occupied by one of his employés. The next day, therefore, saw me installed in what were to be my “diggings” during my stay in the sacred city, and as they were in the very centre of the busiest part of the place, I had not to go far in search of my subjects, for I could almost get them by looking out of the window. The charge for the accommodation, considering how rough it was, struck me as very dear for Ourga; but I was informed that living in Mongolia is (for Europeans) not cheap, as almost everything has to be brought from Siberia.

Ourga, or, as it is called by the Mongolians, “Bogdor Kurene”—which means the settlement of the Bogdor—though it contains nearly fifteen thousand inhabitants, cannot even by the wildest stretch of the imagination be called a city with any architectural pretensions to beauty. With the exception of the Chinese portions of it—only a small part—its streets consist of mere rows of high wooden palisades, which enclose the space in the centre of which is erected the inevitable yourt; for so nomadic is the Mongol by nature that, even when settled here in the capital, his old instincts compel him to continue dwelling in his original tent. The effect, therefore, of these long monotonous rows of rough logs, relieved at regular intervals by tall wooden doors, all exactly of the same pattern, is indescribably dreary; and, were it not for the two or three large open spaces where a bazaar is daily held, there would be but little to see, for Ourga has but few “lions.” There is really only one building of any pretension in the place, and that is the large wooden Buddhist temple which enshrines the huge gilt-bronze figure dedicated to the apostle “Maidha.”

Either the Mongols don’t know or won’t tell—most probably the former, but, at any rate, I was unable to find out anything about this mysterious figure, or how or when the immense mass of metal was brought to the desert city. It is certainly not less than forty feet in height, and is in the familiar seated position in which Buddha is always represented. In fact, I should have taken it for that divinity had not my informant, a Mongol, insisted on its representing “Maidha,” who, I afterwards learned, is one of the Mongol Buddhist apostles, and one much prayed to in Mongolia. The body and extremities of this immense figure are draped in yellow silk, and are almost lost in the surrounding obscurity; but the face itself, which is surmounted by a majestic crown, is lighted up by a hidden window in front of it; so it stands out in foreshortened relief against the darkness of the dome, which gives it a certain weird appearance that is somewhat increased by the eyes being painted a natural colour.

Still, Ourga is most interesting, representing as it does one of the standpoints of the Mongol Buddhist faith, and the capital of a fast disappearing nation; for here is the abode of that most holy of holy personages, the “Bogdor of Kurene,” and long and weary are the pilgrimages frequently made by devout Mongols for a glimpse of this mysterious man, who occupies in their faith almost the same position as the pope does, or rather did in former times, to the Catholics. It is for this reason that Ourga is spoken of as a sacred city, and ranks immediately after the mystic capital of Thibet, Lhassa, where is the abode of the prophet of Buddha, the living God, the mighty Dalai Lama, and which is yet a forbidden place to unbelievers.

A PILGRIM FROM THIBET.

The Bogdor of Kurene is a sort of branch establishment, in Ourga, of the head office at Lhassa; for all Bogdor are supplied exactly of the same youthful age, when required, by the Dalai Lama himself. It is difficult to learn what are the special aptitudes necessary for this high position, for the average Mongol is very reticent on matters concerning his faith; but, at any rate, whatever they may be, the Bogdor seems to have a very good time of it here, for he has little or nothing to do but to live on the fat of the land and to say prayers all day. What more can a man want? He has no voice in municipal and State matters, which are conducted entirely by a Manchurian general, representing China, and by a Mongolian prince. There is, however, just one little drawback to being so august a personage. If the Bogdor conducts himself as his numerous Lamas consider he ought to do, all goes well; but unfortunately youth will have, or tries to have, its fling, and even a Bogdor is, after all, only an ordinary mortal; so when, as has been usually the case up to now, the youth, arrived at years of discretion, wished to meddle in affairs which did not concern him, or to indulge in pleasures not consonant with his austere position, he suddenly died; he was snuffed out, so to speak, how or when was never known, nor were any questions asked; and in course of time another Bogdor arrived from Lhassa to take his place, and perchance also to meet the same fate. Very few of these holy youths have lived much beyond the age of twenty. The first of the line, two hundred years ago, however, was an exception, for he died a natural death, at the advanced age of seventy; he evidently knew how to take care of himself. The present representative, who is twenty-two years old, is likely, I hear, to prove another exception; for it is said that he is of a very different stamp to his predecessors, and is, for a Mongol, a most enlightened man, taking a great interest in all modern subjects and inventions. He has even had his photo taken (for strictly private circulation only), and has a piano in his palace, which was presented to him by a former Russian consul here.

Although to obtain an audience of the great man is, for a European, an absolute impossibility, still he can often be seen; for he rides out constantly, and on several occasions I have seen him, accompanied by his suite. In fact, the first of these occasions formed rather an amusing incident, and may be interesting. Seated on horseback, I was one afternoon busy making a sketch near his palace, when suddenly I heard shouting, and, looking round, saw that the people near were trying to draw my attention to a sort of cavalcade, preceded by two horsemen bearing a huge white silk standard, approaching me, and which I had not until then noticed. To start a fresh sketch was the impulse of the moment, for it was a gallant sight, which almost recalled the Middle Ages. The costumes were really gorgeous. In the centre of the main group was a pale-faced youth dressed in bright yellow silk, the crown of his fur-trimmed hat covered with gold, which glittered like a halo on his head. Although I had some idea that he must be some very exalted personage, in spite of the frantic shouting of the people around, I went on quietly with my sketch, just for the fun of seeing the adventure out. In a few seconds they were close to me, when, to my astonishment, they all galloped up to where I was, and I was surrounded by a curious and inquisitive crowd, who had probably never seen a sketch-book before. The pale-faced youth, who looked something like an Englishman got up for a fancy-dress ball, appeared to be the most interested in my proceedings, and put several questions to me in Mongol, which, of course, were unintelligible to me, so I replied in Russian, saying I was an Englishman and did not understand Mongolian. Evidently this was considered a capital joke, although I had not intended to be humorous; for they all laughed heartily for a few moments, and then some one said something to the pale-faced youth, and they continued their ride. Immediately they were gone the people came up, and, pointing to the horsemen, said, “Bogdor! Bogdor!” in a reverential sort of way, making signs that the youth with the gold roof to his hat was that august person himself. So I suppose I can claim the honour of being the first European who has had an “interview” with this inaccessible personage.