d dash
up to our tent at a full gallop, slide off and hobble his pony
almost in a single motion. With a "_sai bina_" of greeting he would
squat in the door, produce his bottle of snuff and offer us a pinch.
There was a quiet dignity about these plains dwellers which was
wonderfully appealing. They were seldom unduly curious, and when we
indicated that the visit was at an end, they left at once.

Sometimes they brought bowls of curded milk, or great lumps of
cheese as presents, and in return we gave cigarettes or now and then
a cake of soap. Having been told in Urga that soap was especially
appreciated by the Mongols, I had brought a supply of red, blue, and
green cakes which had a scent even more wonderful than the color. I
can't imagine why they like it, for it is carefully put away and
never used.

Strangely enough, the Mongols have no word for "thank you" other
than "_sai_" (good), but when they wish to express approbation, and
usually when saying "good-by," they put up the thumb with the
fingers closed. In Yuen-nan and eastern Tibet we noted the same
custom among the aboriginal tribesmen. I wonder if it is merely a
coincidence that in the gladiatorial contests of ancient Rome
"thumbs up" meant mercy or approval!

The Mongols told us that in the rolling ground to the east of camp
we could surely find antelope. The first morning my wife and I went
out alone. We trotted steadily for an hour, making for the summit of
a rise seven or eight miles from camp. Yvette held the ponies, while
I sat down to sweep the country with my glasses. Directly in front
of us two small valleys converged into a larger one, and almost
immediately I discovered half a dozen orange-yellow forms in its
very bottom about two miles away. They were antelope quietly
feeding. In a few moments I made out two more close together, and
then four off at the right. After my wife had found them with her
glasses we sat down to plan the stalk.

It was obvious that we should try to cross the two small depressions
which debouched into the main valley and approach from behind the
hill crest nearest to the gazelles. We trotted slowly across the
gully while the antelope were in sight, and then swung around at
full gallop under the protection of the rising ground. We came up
just opposite to the herd and dismounted, but were fully six hundred
yards away. Suddenly one of those impulses which the hunter never
can explain sent them off like streaks of yellow lig