orthern ridge of the Sayan chain, passed the border river Algiak and,
after this day, were abroad in the territory of Urianhai.

This wonderful land, rich in most diverse forms of natural wealth, is
inhabited by a branch of the Mongols, which is now only sixty thousand
and which is gradually dying off, speaking a language quite different
from any of the other dialects of this folk and holding as their life
ideal the tenet of "Eternal Peace." Urianhai long ago became the scene
of administrative attempts by Russians, Mongols and Chinese, all of whom
claimed sovereignty over the region whose unfortunate inhabitants, the
Soyots, had to pay tribute to all three of these overlords. It was due
to this that the land was not an entirely safe refuge for us. We had
heard already from our militiaman about the expedition preparing to go
into Urianhai and from the peasants we learned that the villages along
the Little Yenisei and farther south had formed Red detachments, who
were robbing and killing everyone who fell into their hands. Recently
they had killed sixty-two officers attempting to pass Urianhai into
Mongolia; robbed and killed a caravan of Chinese merchants; and killed
some German war prisoners who escaped from the Soviet paradise. On the
fourth day we reached a swampy valley where, among open forests, stood a
single Russian house. Here we took leave of our guide, who hastened away
to get back before the snows should block his road over the Sayans. The
master of the establishment agreed to guide us to the Seybi River for
ten thousand roubles in Soviet notes. Our horses were tired and we were
forced to give them a rest, so we decided to spend twenty-four hours
here.

We were drinking tea when the daughter of our host cried:

"The Soyots are coming!" Into the room with their rifles and pointed
hats came suddenly four of them.

"Mende," they grunted to us and then, without ceremony, began examining
us critically. Not a button or a seam in our entire outfit escaped their
penetrating gaze. Afterwards one of them, who appeared to be the local
"Merin" or governor, began to investigate our political views. Listening
to our criticisms of the Bolsheviki, he was evidently pleased and began
talking freely.

"You are good people. You do not like Bolsheviki. We will help you."

I thanked him and presented him with the thick silk cord which I was
wearing as a girdle. Before night they left us saying that they would
return in the mo