We entered a long, winding valley among the mountains covered with deep snow and here and there with groves of the black wood of the larch.

About halfway to Kobdo we came across the yurta of a shepherd on the shore of the small Lake of Baga Nor, where evening and a strong wind whirling gusts of snow in our faces easily persuaded us to stop.

By the yurta stood a splendid bay horse with a saddle richly ornamerited with silver and coral.

As we turned in from the road, two Mongols left the yurta very hastily; one of them jumped into the saddle and quickly disappeared in the plain behind the snowy hillocks.

We clearly made out the flashing folds of his yellow robe under the great outer coat and saw his large knife sheathed in a green leather scabbard and handled with horn and ivory.