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Updated: August 23, 2024
He was a Grand Duke of the Buriats, the successor of former Buriat kings who had been dethroned by the Russian Government after their attempt to establish the Independence of the Buriat people. The servants brought us dishes with nuts, raisins, dates and cheese and served us tea. "This is the last night, Djam Bolon!" said Baron Ungern. "You promised me . . ."
Prince Djam Bolon described to me some of the contents of this volume. "There exists an ancient wooden Buddha with open eyes. He was brought here from India and Bogdo Gheghen placed him on the altar and began to pray. When he returned from the shrine, he ordered the statue of Buddha brought out.
Jean Malin followed, being careful to keep out of sight, and as he went he kept saying over and over to himself, "Beau Madjam, fat Madjam, djam, djam, djara, djara, Beau Madjam, fat Madjam, djam, djam, djara, djara!" He said it over and over, so that he should not forget any least word of it. When Jean Malin reached home Mr.
The Wazir, or Prime Minister, of the Djam paid me a visit in the evening sans cérémonie a jolly-looking, fresh-complexioned old fellow, dressed in a suit of karki, cut European fashion, and with nothing Oriental about him save a huge white linen turban. "Will the Russians ever take India?" asked the old fellow of Gerôme, as he left the tent.
The caravan consisted of eighteen camels, four Baluchis, Kamoo, and Gerôme, with an escort of ten soldiers of the Djam of Beïla, smart-looking, well-built fellows in red tunics, white baggy trousers, and dark-blue turbans. Each man, armed with a Snider rifle and twenty rounds of ammunition, was mounted on a rough, wiry-looking pony.
During the next two days I had the opportunity to visit the Living Buddha three times together with a friend of the Bogdo, the Buriat Prince Djam Bolon. I shall describe these visits in Part IV. Baron Ungern organized the trip for me and my party to the shore of the Pacific.
We were helped by the great Prince of the Buriats, Djam Bolon, who began parleys with General Ungern, then engaged in fighting the Bolsheviki in Transbaikalia, and invited him to enter Mongolia and help in the war against the Chinese. Then our struggle for liberty began." Thus the Sait of Uliassutai explained the situation to me.
Some were like pygmies, some had bloody noses. Their talk consisted of feverish, breathless ejaculations, a gibberish in which the words "rot," "oach," and "giddy" were preeminent. Some were exciting themselves by chewing a kind of "bhang" made from the plant called pappahmint; others had their faces streaked with djam. "But who is this they are ducking in the pool?" asked Pi Bol.
The bull was grazing with his head down and did not see him. After a while the bull raised his head and looked all about him to see if there were any one around. He did not see Jean, because the little boy was behind the rocks, so the animal thought itself alone. Then it dropped on its knees and cried, "Beau Madjam, fat Madjam, djam, djam, djara, djara!"
"I remember," answered the Buriat, "all is ready." For a long time I listened to their reminiscences about former battles and friends who had been lost. The clock pointed to midnight when Djam Bolon got up and went out of the yurta. "I want to have my fortune told once more," said Baron Ungern, as though he were justifying himself. "For the good of our cause it is too early for me to die. . . ."
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