trewn by ancient glaciers along the mountain
sides. Sometimes the trail led right along the edge of the precipices
where the horses started great slides of stones and sand. I remember
one whole mountain covered with these moving sands. We had to leave our
saddles and, taking the bridles in our hands, to trot for a mile or more
over these sliding beds, sometimes sinking in up to our knees and
going down the mountain side with them toward the precipices below. One
imprudent move at times would have sent us over the brink. This destiny
met one of our horses. Belly down in the moving trap, he could not work
free to change his direction and so slipped on down with a mass of it
until he rolled over the precipice and was lost to us forever. We heard
only the crackling of breaking trees along his road to death. Then with
great difficulty we worked down to salvage the saddle and bags. Further
along we had to abandon one of our pack horses which had come all the
way from the northern border of Urianhai with us. We first unburdened
it but this did not help; no more did our shouting and threats. He only
stood with his head down and looked so exhausted that we realized he
had reached the further bourne of his land of toil. Some Soyots with us
examined him, felt of his muscles on the fore and hind legs, took his
head in their hands and moved it from side to side, examined his head
carefully after that and then said:

"That horse will not go further. His brain is dried out." So we had to
leave him.

That evening we came to a beautiful change in scene when we topped a
rise and found ourselves on a broad plateau covered with larch. On it we
discovered the yurtas of some Soyot hunters, covered with bark instead
of the usual felt. Out of these ten men with rifles rushed toward us as
we approached. They informed us that the Prince of Soldjak did not
allow anyone to pass this way, as he feared the coming of murderers and
robbers into his dominions.

"Go back to the place from which you came," they advised us with fear in
their eyes.

I did not answer but I stopped the beginnings of a quarrel between an
old Soyot and one of my officers. I pointed to the small stream in the
valley ahead of us and asked him its name.

"Oyna," replied the Soyot. "It is the border of the principality and the
passage of it is forbidden."

"All right," I said, "but you will allow us to warm and rest ourselves a
little."

"Yes, yes!" exclaimed the hospitab