e flesh, and, looking at me,
placed this bone in the coals with some incantations and said:

"I want to tell your fortune. All my predictions come true."

When the bone had been blackened he drew it out, blew off the ashes and
began to scrutinize the surface very closely and to look through it into
the fire. He continued his examination for a long time and then, with
fear in his face, placed the bone back in the coals.

"What did you see?" I asked, laughing.

"Be silent!" he whispered. "I made out horrible signs."

He again took out the bone and began examining it all over, all the time
whispering prayers and making strange movements. In a very solemn quiet
voice he began his predictions.

"Death in the form of a tall white man with red hair will stand behind
you and will watch you long and close. You will feel it and wait but
Death will withdraw. . . . Another white man will become your friend.
. . . Before the fourth day you will lose your acquaintances. They will
die by a long knife. I already see them being eaten by the dogs. Beware
of the man with a head like a saddle. He will strive for your death."

For a long time after the fortune had been told we sat smoking and
drinking tea but still the old fellow looked at me only with fear.
Through my brain flashed the thought that thus must his companions in
prison look at one who is condemned to death.

The next morning we left the fortune teller before the sun was up, and,
when we had made about fifteen miles, hove in sight of Van Kure. I found
Colonel Kazagrandi at his headquarters. He was a man of good family,
an experienced engineer and a splendid officer, who had distinguished
himself in the war at the defence of the island of Moon in the Baltic
and afterwards in the fight with the Bolsheviki on the Volga. Colonel
Kazagrandi offered me a bath in a real tub, which had its habitat in
the house of the president of the local Chamber of Commerce. As I was in
this house, a tall young captain entered. He had long curly red hair and
an unusually white face, though heavy and stolid, with large, steel-cold
eyes and with beautiful, tender, almost girlish lips. But in his eyes
there was such cold cruelty that it was quite unpleasant to look at his
otherwise fine face. When he left the room, our host told me that he was
Captain Veseloffsky, the adjutant of General Rezukhin, who was fighting
against the Bolsheviki in the north of Mongolia. They had just that day
arrived f