was frustrated in his attempt by his own sister, who killed
him in her watchful care of her old father, the Emperor and Khan. There
is the tomb of Tsinilla, the beloved spouse of Khan Mangu. She left the
capital of China to go to Khara Bolgasun, where she fell in love with
the brave shepherd Damcharen, who overtook the wind on his steed and
who captured wild yaks and horses with his bare hands. The enraged Khan
ordered his unfaithful wife strangled but afterwards buried her with
imperial honors and frequently came to her tomb to weep for his lost
love."

"And what happened to Damcharen?" I inquired.

The Hutuktu himself did not know; but his old servant, the real archive
of legends, answered:

"With the aid of ferocious Chahar brigands he fought with China for a
long time. It is, however, unknown how he died."

Among the ruins the monks pray at certain fixed times and they also
search for sacred books and objects concealed or buried in the debris.
Recently they found here two Chinese rifles and two gold rings and big
bundles of old manuscripts tied with leather thongs.

"Why did this region attract the powerful emperors and Khans who ruled
from the Pacific to the Adriatic?" I asked myself. Certainly not these
mountains and valleys covered with larch and birch, not these vast
sands, receding lakes and barren rocks. It seems that I found the
answer.

The great emperors, remembering the vision of Jenghiz Khan, sought here
new revelations and predictions of his miraculous, majestic destiny,
surrounded by the divine honors, obeisance and hate. Where could they
come into touch with the gods, the good and bad spirits? Only there
where they abode. All the district of Zain with these ancient ruins is
just such a place.

"On this mountain only such men can ascend as are born of the direct
line of Jenghiz Khan," the Pandita explained to me. "Half way up the
ordinary man suffocates and dies, if he ventures to go further. Recently
Mongolian hunters chased a pack of wolves up this mountain and, when
they came to this part of the mountainside, they all perished. There on
the slopes of the mountain lie the bones of eagles, big horned sheep and
the kabarga antelope, light and swift as the wind. There dwells the bad
demon who possesses the book of human destinies."

"This is the answer," I thought.

In the Western Caucasus I once saw a mountain between Soukhoum Kale and
Tuopsei where wolves, eagles and wild goats also perish,