Now that we had come well into the midst of the Bana tribes, the Mongols' fears were redoubled, and they kept watch throughout the night. Soon after sunset they made up a number of big fires, so that we might represent a large camp, and in order to accustom their ponies to the noise of an attack, they rehearsed one, pretending that imaginary enemies had fallen upon us. They fired off their old matchlocks, and rushed here and there, crying out, "Ho! Hi!" We sat by a large fire of argols warming our toes, as we watched the performance, unwilling to help them with our guns in the terrible battle they were engaged in. As soon as they had beaten off the foe, they, our men, and ourselves, formed the three points of a triangle, and picketing the ponies in our middle, slept soundly throughout the night, without further disturbance from real or imaginary enemies.
Some ten miles from this camp we found a wonderful rock, standing out conspicuous and alone in the grassy valley we were marching down. On one side of this rock a small open courtyard had been built from big blocks of white stone, some of which were a foot deep and broad, and two feet long. The walls were some twelve feet high, while the courtyard itself was about twelve yards long and eight yards broad. On many of the stones were Chinese, and a few Tibetan, inscriptions, and on the interstices between two of them we found a Chinese cash. Hanging across one wall was a piece of rope, and attached to this were any number of hairs from horses' tails and shoulder-bones with inscriptions on them. Just as I had managed to cut off one of these bones unobserved, the whole rope, with all its attachments, fell to the ground. The Mongols at that moment entered, and although I concealed my bone, it was still a question whether they suspected me of the deed; however, very little harm was done, for they replaced the rope in its former position. Having entered the courtyard, we found a large cave some thirty feet high, and of the same diameter, inside the rock. But even still more remarkable than the cave itself is the entrance here of a subterranean passage, running all the way to the salt lake of Koko Nor. This wonderful place and the courtyard is said to have been the work of some superhuman agency, for the stones of the wall itself are considered to be too big and heavy for any mortal man to have placed there. The place is called Kanjur Rungyum, which means "sacred writings, not built by men."
At midday we halted by a small stream at the foot of a pass, called the Nicotine Kontal, so that the ponies might rest an hour or two before making the ascent. Our Mongols, for ever thinking of their Bana enemies, determined to improve the hour by a little target practice. It was a slow process, loading with powder and an irregular-shaped piece of lead, which was shoved down with a wooden ramrod, then placing the powder at the touch-hole, preparing the fuse, and resting the gun on the wooden rail which they raised to sight the gun before finally applying the fuse. They made far better practice at the target, which was 150 yards off, than we had anticipated.
THREE REMAINING MULES AT KOKO NOR.
After crossing this easy pass we travelled through a country of grass, and on the ninth day of our march saw in the distance the small hill, with its cairn called Hatuturgy on top, that lies at the western end of the large lake of Koko Nor. The following day we found the country inhabited by more Bana people living in their black tents; they were dotted about all over the land, with immense flocks of sheep and countless herds of tame yak.
That night was the coldest we experienced during our journey. There were twenty-seven degrees (Fahr.) of frost, but, although we were sleeping on the ground without any tent, our slumbers were sounder than they sometimes are in a bed of luxury.
We journeyed along the northern shore of this inland sea, for people in China, when visiting the Koko Nor, talk of spending a week at the sea. This salt lake is about 230 miles round, with a few small islands. By reason of its colour it is called the Blue Lake or Koko Nor.
As we marched along all day we overtook large herds of yak being driven to the Chinese markets, laden with salt or wool. At midday we made our halt by one of the several streams that run into the lake from the ranges of hills. At night-time it was impossible to find a spot which would be out of sight of these black tents. This induced our Mongols to take more precautions than ever for their safety.