Harper's New Monthly Magazine Volume 139 June to November 1919 . h keeps himin the saddle. Sohe leaves to theplodding China-man the cultiva-tion of his bound-less plains whilehe herds his fat-tailed sheep orgoats and cattle. In three hours we had left the lastChinese house behind us and were driv-ing toward a low range of hills behindwhich lay Tabul. Here, some distancefrom the road, is the house of a lonehorse-trader, Larsen by name, one of thefew foreigners who live on the plateaubetween the frontier of Chinese culti-vation and Urga. Until we reached Tabul there hadbeen much water—small stre
Harper's New Monthly Magazine Volume 139 June to November 1919 . h keeps himin the saddle. Sohe leaves to theplodding China-man the cultiva-tion of his bound-less plains whilehe herds his fat-tailed sheep orgoats and cattle. In three hours we had left the lastChinese house behind us and were driv-ing toward a low range of hills behindwhich lay Tabul. Here, some distancefrom the road, is the house of a lonehorse-trader, Larsen by name, one of thefew foreigners who live on the plateaubetween the frontier of Chinese culti-vation and Urga. Until we reached Tabul there hadbeen much water—small streams, ponds,and even lakelets—but when the hillshad begun to sink on the horizon behindus, we entered upon a vast rolling plain,with but little water and without a signof human life save now and then a trainof mule-carts or a camel caravan. We were on the Gobi Desert, but ithardly measured up to what the nameimplies. It resembled nothing so muchas the prairies of Nebraska or Dakota,and amid the short grass, larkspur andpurple thistles glowed in the sunlight. like tongues of flame. As a matter offact, although the whole section throughthe center of Mongolia is called the GobiDesert, no real desert is encountered be-tween Kalgan and Urga. But farther tothe west, the Gobi deserves its name,and Sir Francis Younghusband has saidthat in all his travels he has never seen a more desolatewaste of sand andgravel. There was nolack of bird passed earlierin the day, we sawhundreds of mal-lard ducks andspectacled car oftenfrightened goldenplover from theirdust-baths in theroad, and crestedlapwings flashedacross the prairielike sudden stormsof autumn goldeneagles and enor-mous ravens made A YOUNG MONGOL CAMEL-HERDER tempting targetson the telegraph-poles, and in themorning before we left the cultivatedarea we saw cranes in thousands. In this land where wood is absent andeverything is of value that will make afire, I wondered how the telegraph-pol
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