The Greenville journal. [volume] (Greenville, Ohio) 1850-1918, 1918-02-21
Encampment Of NOmad Tent DweIIers.

NAAANN"f uNhlulhNu lAOlu NuC
glare of the road. 1t stirred strange
emotion in me; perhaps an early race
memory, an ancient nostalgia for this
first home of the human race. But
there was no water for our beasts, and
we must travel two II farther-twO-
thirds of an English mile. There in
the shadow of a doorway, we ate our
first trail tiffin surrounded by half
clothed men and not in the least
clothed children, who followed us en-
Enthusiastically.
Past n little gray wayside shrine,
past tall mastlike poles with their
prayer flags dropping in the still air,
the road led, striking suddenly a trail
that emerged onto a small plateau.
The sheer thrill of that little plateau,
like a sharp upturning Chinese mir
rOr! AT the foot of the ascent lay q
Bethlehem village. The mellow after
noon sunshine reflected in small
pool-the whole a study in quietude.
And beyond, rushing swiftly away to
the North, our Promised Land, the
great MOngOlian plain.
To the Top of the World.
The ascent of the next morning was
delayed by the appearance of a cara
van of two-wheeled ox-carts piled with
wool, there where the pass notched
the sky. But it was worth the de-
lay. Whatever else slips from me
through memOry's net, it will not be
those carts, for one supreme moment
dominating the world, and then, like
all things mortal, each losing the su-
preme moment at the crest of things
and plunging down the pass, lost in
the dust below, while we ourselves
took the uptrail to the top of the
world.
The top of the world! Beyond q
vision of sky and plain, magnificent
open country rushing away glOriOusly
to the horizon and beyond. That is
the feel Of Mongolia-beyond; vast,
silent beyond. Something of desert
beauty lay in its unbroken spaces.
peace and healing and desert inscrut-
ability. 1t was of the desert and yet
it was not desert. It's tawny mono
chrome was tinged with green, soft
ened by short, sparse grass through
which summer wind rustled, invit-
ing one to pleasant wanderings.
The Tent Dwellers.
We were now well up in fresh, un-
trammeled land. There were no fields,
no houses, no villages only an Occa-
siOnal encampment of black MOngol
tents with it's guard of dogs. True
nomaG's land.
The black Mongol teuts are made of
layers of felt stretched on a collapsi-
BILE wicket of wood ABOUT four feet
high, from which spOk-s of wood ex-
tend 20 meet above at the top, the
whole 2Orded with stoL. ropes. There
are nc windows and tt* entrance con-
sists Of one low doO!. Against the
walls of the tent stani bright chests
of clothing, brass cooking vessels,
rows of cheeses, ba:rel of intoxi-
cant made from sour mix, and a small
Buddhist shrine. Fet and fur rugs
cover the earth floor Ard the low dais
at the back which adds i Turkish look.
On center brazler tea SINNERS from
morning till night, tea drunk copiOus-
ly With butter and salt and a handful
of IGillet. The whole is Overhung with
an tndescribable Otor, Siberian but
moe so; skins, cheese, smoke, horses,
dogs, sheep, cows, rObaccO, sour milk,
incxAse to the gods and unwashed hu-
ma&ity, a combination into which the
odcSs of Cairo might be carried as a
perfume.
1he Mongol is darker in color than
his Chinese neighhor, high-cheeked,
squat, weather-beaaen, almost prOtec-
tiva in coloring. Rarely, if ever, on
MclgOl face is SEGA that fine intelIi-
geEce which stampG the Chinese; the
faCX that he has prJduced no arts, no
crafts, that he is O worker in no me-
dim, is writ large in the crudity of his
expression. AS buddhist, he refus-
es to till the soil lest he take life-kill
beetle, for instance. Sheep he may
kill, however, since that may be accom-
plished without Brddha's cognizance,
bsck Of the tent. Flocks have another
advantage, too, over fields; flocks he
may carry with him. And the Mongol
knows no shades Of prison house
Give a MOngol sGeep and a horse
and he will feed, closhe, house himself
and roam the plain. Add a COW and
he can get drunk. Life has nothing
more to offer.