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Updated: May 9, 2025
As we worked higher the guide less seldom lost the way. Frequently we fell into deep holes covered with snow; we scrambled up over slippery rocks. At last the Soyot swung his horse round and, coming up to me, announced very positively: "I do not want to die with you and I will not go further." My first motion was the swing of my whip back over my head.
We struggled for several hours, wore out our horses and, all of a sudden, turned up at the place where we had made our last halt. It was very evident our Soyot had lost his way; and on his face I noticed marked fear. "The old devils of the cursed forest will not allow us to pass," he whispered with trembling lips. "It is a very ominous sign. We must return to Kharga to the Noyon."
It is beginning already. . . . Go back to our Noyon, wait for the warmer days and then. . . ." I did not listen further to the Soyot but turned back to the fire, which I could hardly see through the blinding snow. Fearing our guide might run away, I ordered a sentry to be stationed for the night to watch him.
Afterwards I noticed a fire burning among the trees and then woke up. It grew light. I shook up the others and asked them to prepare quickly so as not to lose time in getting under way. The storm was raging. The snow blinded us and blotted out all traces of the road. The cold also became more intense. At last we were in the saddles. The Soyot went ahead trying to make out the trail.
I began to calm him and promised on the morrow to arrange this matter with the Soyots. The officer was a coarse brute and a silly man, desiring strongly to be promoted for the capture of the Cossack officers, and feared that the Soyot could prevent him from reaching the Seybi. At daybreak we started together with the Red detachment.
That evening we came to a beautiful change in scene when we topped a rise and found ourselves on a broad plateau covered with larch. On it we discovered the yurtas of some Soyot hunters, covered with bark instead of the usual felt. Out of these ten men with rifles rushed toward us as we approached.
I pointed to the small stream in the valley ahead of us and asked him its name. "Oyna," replied the Soyot. "It is the border of the principality and the passage of it is forbidden." "All right," I said, "but you will allow us to warm and rest ourselves a little." "Yes, yes!" exclaimed the hospitable Soyots, and led us into their tepees.
I was so close to the "Promised Land" of Mongolia that this Soyot, standing in the way of fulfilment of my wishes, seemed to me my worst enemy. But I lowered my flourishing hand. Into my head flashed a quite wild thought. "Listen," I said. "If you move your horses, you will receive a bullet in the back and you will perish not at the top of the mountain but at the bottom.
"My Soyot has come in and announced that the Reds are already crossing the Seybi and the Tartars are prepared for the fight." We immediately went out to look over our saddles and packs and then took the horses and hid them in the bushes not far off. We made ready our rifles and pistols and took posts in the enclosure to wait for our common enemy.
"All right," I answered, "but let us talk a little, in order that they may think we are parleying." After a moment I shook the hand of the Soyot and returned to the soldiers. "All right," I exclaimed, "we can continue our journey. No hindrance will come from the Soyots."
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