Large smoking abattoirs in each area presage the fate of each animal. A pale brown fox hurries across in front of us, scurrying for cover as Cukhbaatar, my driver, pulls over to hunt it, until I motion him to continue. Suddenly, I see a long-tailed mouse or rat, its silhouette sharply outlined as it dives between the wheels of an oncoming car. I wonder if it survives. Another tailless scurrying gopher-like creature safely makes the far shoulder.
Birds begin to make their presence known.
An eagle soars in the distance, while large hawks swoop low over the land to pick off small rodents, or to harry flocks of sheep for their tasty newborn. Twice, we see a beautiful spotted hawk, perched low on a roadside post. The second time, the driver chuckles as he swerves almost up to the animal, the startled look in its eyes clearly visible just a couple of feet away. Truly, the Mongolian countryside is alive. Meeting at Erdene Zuu harkhorin, marked on the map as a town near, isn't much of a place, just the usual collection of decrepit Russian industrial plants, a few institutional buildings, and the usual huddle of wooden-fenced plots containing gers.