epskin coats in the
blazing summer sun, and at night the men on the march would throw
themselves down without a rug or mat under the open sky, and the nights
were often cold. If he must, the Mongol can go a long time without
eating, but when the chance comes he is a great glutton, bolting
enormous quantities of half-cooked meat. Drunkenness, I am told, is a
Mongol failing. By preference he gets drunk on whiskey; failing that, on
a sort of arrack of soured mare's milk. On the other hand, the opium
habit does not seem to have crossed the frontier. Very rarely is a
Mongol addicted to that. But they all smoke tobacco,--men, women, and
children,--just as they all ride. To appreciate the Mongol you must see
him on horseback,--and indeed you rarely see him otherwise, for he does
not put foot to ground if he can help it. The Mongol without his pony is
only half a Mongol, but with his pony he is as good as two men. It is a
fine sight to see him tearing over the plain, loose bridle, easy seat,
much like the Western cowboy, but with less sprawl.

The Mongol of to-day is the degenerate son of the conquering warriors of
a thousand years ago. Once his name carried terror to the shores of the
Midland Sea. Now those who do not like him can say with some truth that
he lives the life of an animal, mating rather than marrying, his warlike
spirit gone, his home a lair, his chief pleasures gorging and getting
drunk; but those who do like him--and they are the ones who know him
best--declare he is a good fellow, gay, good-tempered, independent,
hospitable.

CHAPTER XIII

ACROSS THE DESERT OF GOBI

Toward the end of the third day from Kalgan we were following a blind
trail among low, grass-covered hills, all about us beautiful pastureland
dotted over with herds of horses and cattle. A sharp turn in the road
revealed a group of yurts like many that we had passed, but two khaki
tents a little at one side showed the European, and in a few minutes I
found myself among the new friends that so speedily become old friends
in the corners of the world.

Here I was to make the real start for my journey across the desert, and
by good luck it turned out that one member of the little settlement, a
man wise in ways Mongolian, was leaving the next morning for a trip into
the heart of Mongolia, and if I went on at once we could journey
together for the two or three days that our ways coincided. There was
nothing to detain me, fortunately, and b