round just
below our camp. As my wife and I rode out of the forest, a dozen
Mongols swept by, gorgeous in flaming red and streaming peacock
plumes. They waved a challenge to us, and we joined them in a wild
race to a flag in the center of the field. On the side of the hill
sat a row of lamas in dazzling yellow gowns; opposite them were the
judges, among whom I recognized Tserin Dorchy, though he was so
bedecked, behatted and beribboned that I could hardly realize that
it was the same old fellow with whom we had lived in camp. (I
presume if he saw me in the clothes of civilization he would be
equally surprised.)

In front of the judges, who represented the most respected laity of
the community, were bowls of cheese cut into tiny cubes. The
spectators consisted of two groups of women, who sat some distance
apart in compact masses, the "horns" of their headdresses almost
interlocked. Their costumes were marvels of brilliance. They looked
like a flock of gorgeous butterflies, which had alighted for a
moment on the grass.

The first race consisted of about a dozen ponies, ridden by
fourteen-year-old boys and girls. They swept up the valley from the
starting point in full run, hair streaming, and uttering wailing
yells. The winner was led by two old Mongols to the row of lamas,
before whom he prostrated himself twice, and received a handful of
cheese. This he scattered broadcast, as he was conducted
ceremoniously to the judges, from whom he returned with palms
brimming with bits of cheese.

Finally, all the contestants in the races, and half a dozen of the
Mongols on horseback, lined up in front of the priests, each one
singing a barbaric chant. Then they circled about the lamas, beating
their horses until they were in a full run. After the race came
wrestling matches. The contestants sparred for holds and when
finally clinched, each with a grip on the other's waistband,
endeavored to obtain a fall by suddenly heaving. When the last
wrestling match was finished, a tall Mongol raised the yellow
banner, and followed by every man and boy on horseback, circled
about the seated lamas. Faster and faster they rode, yelling like
demons, and then strung off across the valley to the nearest _yurt_.

Although the sports in themselves were not remarkable, the scene was
picturesque in the extreme. Opposite to the grassy hill the
forest-clad mountains rose, tier upon tier, in dark green masses.
The brilliant yellow lamas faced by th