Across Mongolian Plains A Naturalist's Account of China's 'Great Northwest'

Sacred City of the Living Buddha. The world has other sacred cities, but none like this. It is a relic of medieval t

f flaming red or brilliant yellow, walk side by side with black-gowned priests; and swarthy Mongol women,

gdo-ol (God's Mountain). An hour later the road led us to our first surprise in Mai-ma-cheng, the Chinese quarter of the city. Years of wandering in the strange corners of the world had left us totally unprepared for what we saw. It seemed that here in Mongol

d cupolas. The church was not in sight, but its place was taken by a huge red building of surpassing ugliness, the Russian Consulate. It stands alone on the summit of a knoll, the open plains stretching away behind it

with fluttering prayer flags, ornate houses, felt-covered yurts, and Chinese shops mingle in a dizzying chaos of conflicting personalities. Three great races have met in Urga and each carries on, in this far corner of Mongo

ys, with their tiny native shops, or of watching the ever-changing crowds. Mongols in half a dozen different tribal dresses, Tib

s all the types of covering one learned to know in the pictures of ancient Cathay, from the high-peaked hat of yellow and black-through the whole, stra

en in all her colors. To begin with the dressing of her hair. If all the women of the Orient competed to produce a st

ndent braid like a riding quirt. On her head, between the horns, she wears a silver cap elaborately chased and flashing with "jewels." Surmounting this is a "saucer" hat of black and yellow. Her skirt is of gorgeous brocade or cloth, and the jacket

xcept in the matter of footgear, and this slight exception might be allowed

ld of winter for the addition of several pairs of socks, varying in number according to the thermometer. During the summer she often wears no socks at all, but their place is taken by an assortment of small arti

ite make myself believe that it was real when a brilliant group of horsemen in pointed, yellow hats and streaming, peacock feathers dashed down the street. It seemed too imp

l's heart is through his pony. Once on horseback we began to identify ourselves with the fascinating life around us. We lost the uncomfortable

en during the summer. We came to know it well, and each time we rode down the long street it seemed more wonderful that, in

s of Mongolia. Until a few years ago, when motor cars first made their way across the seven hundred miles of plains, the only access from the south was by camel caravan, and the monotonous trip offered little inducement to casual travelers. The Russians came to

the Hutukhtu, or Living Buddha, the head of both the Church and the State. Across the valley his palaces nestle close against the base

forests, but to shoot within the sacred precincts would mean almost certain death for the transgressor. Some years ago several Russians from Urga made their way up the mountain during the night and killed a bear.

om the rolling plains to the south. Like a gigantic guardian of the holy city at its b

wo at least have the virtue of native architecture. In the main palace the central structure is white with gilded cupolas, and sma

scussing a very saintly person. His passion for Occidental trinkets and inventions is well known, however, and his palace is a veritable storehouse for gramophones, typewriters, microscopes, sewing machines, and a host of other things sold to him by Russian traders and illustrated in picture catalogues sent from the uttermost corners

ic plant to the Hutukhtu, were summoned to the palace to receive payment. They witnessed a scene which to-day could be possible only in Mongolia. Sev

was gently waggled from the other end, supposedly by the Hutukhtu. A barbaric monotone of chanted prayers arose from the kneeling suppliants, and the rope was waggled again.

or so from his other dwellings. The furnishing became a matter of moment, and Mr. Lucander, who was temporarily in the employ of the Mongolian Government, was intrusted with the task of attending to the intimate details. The selection of a bed was most important, for even Living Buddhas hav

isters that the bed was ready. Two lamas, high dignitaries of the church, were the inspection committee. They agreed that it looked all right, but the question was, how did it feel? Mr. Lucander waxed eloquent on the "springiness" of the springs, and assured them that no bed could be better; that this was the bed par excellence o

t unaccustomed luxury was responsible for the decline of the Mongol Empire, but the ruin of the race was due to the Lama Church. Lamaism, which was introduced from Tibet, gained its hold not long after the time of Kublai Kha

lusive of Alaska), a great proportion of the male population being lamas. With no education, except in the books of their sect, they lead a lazy, worthless existence, supported by the lay population and by the money they extract by preying upon th

archy, bearing the title Cheptsundampa Hutukhtu (Venerable Best Saint). According to ancient tradition, the Hutukhtu never dies; his spirit simply reappears in the person of some newly born infant and thus comes forth re?mbodied

by the tiny wooden dwellings of the priests. "The Lama City" it is called, for only those in the service of the Church are allowed to live within its sacred precincts. In the temple i

a becoming expression of humility and reverence. It was evidently successful, for I passed unhindered into the Presence. At the entrance stood a priest who gave me, with the others, a few drops of holy water from a filthy jug. Silent with awe, the people bathed their faces with the precious fluid and prostrated themselves before the g

: The Great T

Prayer Wheel an

s Calling the Gods

ongol Praying at

y veins. There was a strange dizziness in my head, and I had an almost overpowering desire to fall on my knees with the Mongols and join in the chorus of adoration. The subtle smell of burning incense, the brilliant colors, and the barbaric music were like an intoxicating drink which inflamed the senses but dulled the brain. It

s base. Each wheel is a hollow cylinder of varying size, standing on end, and embellished with Tibetan characters in gold. The wheels are sometimes fill

nd it sends forth a supplication for the welfare of the Mongol's spirit in the Buddhistic heaven. Not only are the prayer wheels found about the temples, but they line the streets, and no visiting Mongo

seen the prostrate forms of ragged pilgrims who have journeyed far to this Mecca of the lama faith. If they are entering the city for the first time and crave exceeding virtue, they approach the great temple on the hill by lying face down at every step and beating the

ing to have about the house. The stigma is imposed even upon the dying. In Urga a family of Mongols had erected their yurt in the courtyard of one of our friends. During the summer the young wif

iven at high speed over a bit of rough ground. The body drops off at some time during the journey, but the driver does not dare look back until he is sure that the unwelcome burden is no longer with him; otherwise he might anger the spirit following the corpse and thereby cause himself

y a short distance from our tent they discovered a dead Mongol who had just been dragged out o

lf you will probably be attacked if you walk unarmed through the meat market at night. I have never visited Constantinople, but if the Turkish city can boast of more dogs than Urga, it must be an exceedingly disagreeable place in which to dwell. Although the dogs live to a large extent upon human remains, they are also fed by the lamas. Every day about four o'clo

there to be devoured. Dozens of white skulls lie about in the grass, but it is a serious matter even to touch one. I very

rontier city where life is seen in the raw. Its natives are a hard-living race, virile beyond compare. Ch

only the Stron

shall perish and on

ure of the plains as does the eagle itself which soars above his yurt. Independence breathes in

ess it is removed by some accident or by the wear of years. One can be morally certain that it will never be washed off by design or water. Perhaps the native is not altogether to blame, for, except in the north, water is not abundant. It can be found on the plains and in the Gobi

bundance of fat, and sheep supply his wants. There is always more or less grease distributed about his clothes

may keep as many concubines as his means allow, all of whom live with the members of the family in the single room of the yurt. Adulter

enter into his scheme of life. But the operation of natural laws, which in the lower animals are successful in maintaining the species, is fatally i

le on the hill and its clustering lama houses which overlook and dominate the river valley. Its ornate roof, flashing in the

xception of horses, and when we began to outfit for our trip on the plains we received a shock similar to that which I had a month ago in New York, when' paid twenty dollars for a pair of shoes. We ought to be hardened to it now, but when we were being robbed in Urga by profiteering Chinese, who sell flour at te

from China over the long caravan trail and were guaranteed to be "addled"-or whatever it is that sometimes makes an egg an unpleasant companion at the breakfast table. Even those cost three

o know the ins and outs of the sacred city intimately before we were ready to leave for the plains. The Chinese shops were our real help, for in Urga, as everywhere else in the Orient, the

y of Foreign Affairs. The former is at the far end of an enormous compound filled with camel caravans or loaded carts. There is a more or less useless wooden building, but the business is cond

lisade of unpeeled timbers is a space about ten feet square upon which open the doors of small rooms, almost dark. In the

d here for only a few days or weeks; others for life, or for many years. Sometimes they lose the use of their limbs, which shrink and shrivel away. The agony of their cramped position is beyond the power of words to describe. Even in winter, when the temperature drops, as it s

he Manchus and is an eloquent tribute to a knowledge of

to show that Urga, even if it has a Custom House, a Ministry of Foreign Affa

try without thinking of the man. Some thirty years ago he rode into Mongolia and liked it. He liked it so much, in fact, that he dug a well and built a house among the Tabool hills a hundred miles

is more interesting than any novel of romance or adventure. In almost every recent event of importance to the Mongols Mr. Larsen's name has figured. Time after time he has been sent as an emissary of the Living Buddha to Peking

rts with harness from a Russian friend, and bought another; he loaned us a riding pony for our Mongol, a cart horse of his own, and Mr. Olufsen contributed another. He made our equipment a personal matter and he was never too busy to assist us in the smallest details. Moreover, we could spend hou

Mongol Women

Headdress of a Mo

: The Framewo

: Mongol Wome