tching away behind it to the somber masses of the
northern forests. In its imposing proportions it is tangible
evidence of the Russian Colossus which not many years ago dominated
Urga and all that is left of the ancient empire of the Khans.

For two miles the road is bordered by Russian cottages; then it
debouches into a wide square which loses its distinctive character
and becomes an indescribable mixture of Russia, Mongolia, and China.
Palisaded compounds, gay with fluttering prayer flags, ornate
houses, felt-covered _yurts_, and Chinese shops mingle in a dizzying
chaos of conflicting personalities. Three great races have met in
Urga and each carries on, in this far corner of Mongolia, its own
customs and way of life. The Mongol _yurt_ has remained unchanged;
the Chinese shop, with its wooden counter and blue-gowned inmates,
is pure Chinese; and the ornate cottages proclaim themselves to be
only Russian.

But on the street my wife and I could never forget that we were in
Mongolia. We never tired of wandering through the narrow alleys,
with their tiny native shops, or of watching the ever-changing
crowds. Mongols in half a dozen different tribal dresses, Tibetan
pilgrims, Manchu Tartars, or camel drivers from far Turkestan drank
and ate and gambled with Chinese from civilized Peking.

The barbaric splendor of the native dress fairly makes one gasp for
breath. Besides gowns and sashes of dazzling brilliance, the men
wear on their heads all the types of covering one learned to know in
the pictures of ancient Cathay, from the high-peaked hat of yellow
and black--through the whole, strange gamut--to the helmet with
streaming peacock plumes. But were I to tell about them all I would
leave none of my poor descriptive phrases for the women.

It is hopeless to draw a word-picture of a Mongol woman. A
photograph will help, but to be appreciated she must be seen in all
her colors. To begin with the dressing of her hair. If all the women
of the Orient competed to produce a strange and fantastic type, I do
not believe that they could excel what the Mongol matrons have
developed by themselves.

Their hair is plaited over a frame into two enormous flat bands,
curved like the horns of a mountain sheep and reenforced with bars
of wood or silver. Each horn ends in a silver plaque, studded with
bits of colored glass or stone, and supports a pendent braid like a
riding quirt. On her head, between the horns, she wears a silver cap