Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1929-07-07

THESE are only the shortcomings of the
camel. He has other qualities. what other
beast Of burden could carry q compound load
across thousand miles Of desert In mid
winter with the thermometer dropping far be-
low zero? What other beast could be parked
IN the open in . driving snowstorm, kneeling
on the cold ground, utterly at the mercy Of
the storm, and still be ready and willing to
perform such tasks as q camel is regularly
asked to perform?
For hours lat a time I have ridden beside
the caravan, conscious Of all these strange
sights and Of the suggestive sounds. conscious
too Of the silence of the padded footballs OF
the heavily laden camels, as they swung their
long legs slowly and deliberately forward step
after step. and step after step. have counted
the stepS-counted- counted-unti I seemed
almost to fall under a spell, hut all of the time
I realized that each step that was put behind
was one more step that need not be taken again.
How fearfully far away Picking lay. How nearly
impossible 1t seemed that those endless miles
could ever be overcome by StepS-mere steps
nothing but steps.
The cold wind blew in our faces. Our boards
were covered with ice from our breath. Now
and then camels load would Slip and
caravan man would slide from his donkey in
the camels stepped and stepped and stepped,
until my mind revolted, and I shook myself
to get away from such thoughts, or fell asleep
in my saddle and rode while without realizing
the number of rifles We still had before us.
1t was in this manner that We approached
and crossed the border of Mongolia, wander
ing often from the faint trail-lost time after
time during the darkness of the night marches
worn and tired from long days in the saddle,
from nights spent in wind-whipped, Stating
tents torn by fierce desert blasts, half frozen
in SnowStorms that buried our camp beneath
white blankets under which tents and ropes
and packages froze. Often we were worn out
with our efforts to break camp and were tired
as we climbed into our saddles for a days
march,
Day after day we plodded on, making Is
miles a day, or 20. Sometimes, when the
weather improved and the trail was little
more plainly seen, we had the good fortune
to make 80, but never more. Nor were these
marches made without great difficulty. often
fell asleep in the saddle from exhaustion, and
so did every one else in our party.
I have seen the caravan men draped over
their donkeys, lying face down on the backs
of the patient little creatures hanging on one
leg and one arm over either side, and sleeping
that way for an hour or more at time, while
the remarkable little animals that carried them
kept up their steady pace, and never deviated
a hairs breadth from the trail, so long as any
trail existed.
From our caravan bashi we learned that
there was Mongol military post ahead, near
the trail that We were taking. It was ap-
parent that he did not like the prospect, and
he suggested that we make a detour in order
to avoid it. That was not our purpose, how
ever. We welcomed the opportunity of meet
ing some of the Mongos, in order to obtain
from them the passports and permits we re-
quired, and so we pushed on over the desert,
which now had changed from perfectly level