At last we entered a small valley where the wind whistled and roared with a thousand voices.

It had grown dark.

The Mongol wandered around searching for the trail and finally came back to us, flourishing his arms and saying: "We have lost the road.

We must spend the night here.

It is very bad because we shall have no wood for our stove and the cold will grow worse." With great difficulties and with frozen hands we managed to set up our tent in the wind, placing in it the now useless stove.