With our eyes cast down, we occupied ourselves in picking up some rare stones with which the desert of Gobi is scattered in certain parts; large agates and many other minerals, unknown to me, quite transparent, and tinged with orange or green; the soil was quite covered with these, presenting a gigantic mosaic.
The Mongol chief declared one morning that our provision of water was exhausted. “I had reckoned,” he said, “on renewing the supply from a pond here that generally contains water, but you see the spot and that it is quite dry.” This news, though rather serious, caused a little diversion in the monotony of our existence, and actually made us merry. M. Schévélof and I alone had thought of providing wine, and our stock of it was not large. We had no tea this day, neither with salt, sugar, nor flour; and our tins of preserves had diminished considerably. Filling our glasses with wine, so suddenly enhanced in value, we drank a toast to the prospect of soon finding water.
M. Kousnietzof who, like a true Siberian, would have preferred half a cup of tea to a whole bottle of the most delicate wine, could not accommodate himself very easily to this privation. He was occupied, all day long, in inspecting the horizon around with his telescope, and again resumed at intervals his persevering work at night. “Wada! Wada!” (water, water,) he suddenly calls out, stopping the caravan, and pointing at a spot with a bluish surface near the horizon. In our enthusiasm we all jumped out of our carriages, and began leading the camels that bore the water kegs towards the indicated spot. M. Kousnietzof ran and M. Marine danced with joy, Pablo sang and I followed M. Schévélof, who doubted, and he was the wisest of all. This deceptive blue tint was produced merely by a large bed of salt; so we returned, looking rather blue ourselves, to our carriages. The same night, we witnessed a deception of another kind in a lunar mirage. This phenomenon, which appears to be rather rare, is one of the most graceful and enchanting presented by nature. The landscape that charmed our sight was certainly a phantom, for it was far too dissimilar from any real one to be met with in the middle of the desert; and if I had not witnessed it myself, I should certainly have believed, if my companions had faithfully described it to me, that they had been indulging in a flight of imagination. We had before our eyes not only a little lake reflecting the moonbeams from its smooth surface, but we distinguished on its borders the outlines of groups of fine trees, and even some wading birds. Wassili Michäelovitch, who at Verchni-Oudinsk had never even heard of such a thing as a mirage, went leaping towards this little lake, when the Mongols stopped his enthusiastic course by loud peals of laughter. It is probable that this phenomenon, however rare elsewhere, is not uncommon in the Desert of Gobi, since the natives accompanying us appeared in no wise surprised at such a beautiful vision.
Two days afterwards we came upon a little pond of dirty water, quite stagnant, and surrounded with skeletons of all kinds of animals that had come there to quench their thirst and then die. This water, in which I did not venture to wash myself, was welcomed by us as a God-send. The camels that had not drunk for a very long while, and even, till just previously, eaten anything for many days, needed ample rest. We, therefore, made here a long halt. After the repast M. Kousnietzof began giving us some airs on his guitar, and our caravan, that had been as dull as the ditch water, cheered up a little. We were still in the heart of this great solitude, but we were confident that the most difficult part had been passed, and we should now overcome all further obstacles.
Five or six days later we fell in with a few Mongols. Our leader exchanged one of our camels that was jaded for one of theirs fresh and strong: we bought, also between us, a sheep. This day did not pass without some excitement. The new camel had not yet been broken in to any kind of work: it was therefore necessary to begin by piercing a hole through his nose, in order to pass a stick through it for the purpose of taming and leading him. This operation was not performed without difficulty, for it is extremely painful to the animal. And, besides, one of our camels had its foot cracked; this kind of accident happens pretty often at the end of journeys, on account of the protracted fatigue and the hardness of the ground. The Mongols treat it by sewing together the wound, and the suffering of the poor beast may be easily imagined. But the principal business was the killing of our sheep; the first Mongol appointed by our leader for this work refused to obey; he opened his robe, and showing us a little copper idol suspended on his chest, “I am a lama,” he said, “and I am forbidden to spill blood, even the blood of animals.” Another Mongol undertook the function of a butcher, but he killed the sheep in a strange way. He made a long incision in the abdomen, and then thrust his arm into the wound to seize the heart and stop its beating by holding it fast.
MY MONGOLIAN CARRIAGE.
An adventure, of which I was the hero, caused some delay. About an hour after the caravan had resumed its march, after the usual night halt, the tether that attached my camel to Pablo’s carriage got loose; and the beast, feeling itself no longer drawn along, stopped altogether. When my camel found himself thus left behind, I was in the rear of the caravan. The Mongols were sleeping profoundly between the two humps of their camels, and, consequently, not knowing that anything was amiss, kept on their course. The reader may imagine my sensations on finding myself quite alone on awaking in the morning. Fortunately I had the presence of mind to avoid going in search of the caravan; for if I had attempted to overtake it I should, in all probability, have gone astray altogether, and, perhaps, in this plight if any natives had observed my weakness and inexperience, they might have shown towards me little benevolence and hospitality. I sat down on the ground before my stupid-looking camel, with a good mind to give him a sound beating: but, fearing he might take flight, I was constrained to treat him kindly, for I dreaded beyond everything to be obliged to stir even a hundred yards from the spot where I had been left, because there I hoped to be found again. This anxious loneliness, happily, came to an end about ten in the morning. At daybreak, the Mongols having perceived my absence, stopped and turned back on the traces of the caravan, spreading out in different directions. I was soon led back, and the caravan hailed my return with joyous shouting. Pablo was quite overcome with joy on seeing me safe again; his fidelity and attachment could not be more strongly manifested.
The surface was now gradually becoming a little hilly, and we were soon surrounded with high mountains. The temperature had become quite mild, and as the moon shone in all its splendour, our journeying was now easy and agreeable. The tents of the Mongols were more numerous, and we met two or three Chinese caravans going to Maimatchin. At last the route, like the way on leaving Urga, was again strewn all over with huge stones, and these enabled our guide to announce to us that three days later we should come in sight of the Great Wall.
When Mongolia is traversed from north to south, the traveller rises gradually, without suspecting it on account of the ease of the ascent, to four thousand feet above the sea-level. On arriving at this culminating point the land is found cut almost perpendicularly to the depth of this elevation, and in such a manner that, to continue the route, it is necessary to descend by a series of zig-zags cut out by the hand of man, the descent of which is as rapid as the most perilous mountain paths of the Alps and Pyrenees. It is along this peaked crest that the Great Wall of China runs. It is not built of brick, like the interior walls of Nang-Kao for example, of which I shall say something hereafter, and which many travellers erroneously take for the true Great Wall. But the true Great Wall that separates, in the first place, Mongolia from China proper, is built of stones laid over each other without cement. Towers, placed at certain distances from each other, are more solidly constructed, and have thus more effectually resisted the wear of time. This wall has the form of capital A open: the others, which I believe are seven in number, unless I passed more in the night without having seen them, form as many transverse bars.