272 THE LAST OF CHINA 



even though the march was a short one. Our old 

 Khirghiz host had agreed to provide us with sleighs 

 to Semipalatinsk ; and though, referring to expenses, 

 he opened his palms and said, *' I am an old man. 

 I am sixty-eight now. In a few years I shall lie 

 down to sleep. What is a little money between me 

 and thee ? " he was uncommonly keen at a bar- 

 gain all the same. However, off we started in 

 three sleighs about 9 a.m., and soon the walls 

 of the last Chinese city we were to see faded away. 

 George and I were in one sleigh, a rough con- 

 trivance made of wood with a canvas back and 

 sides. Our beds rolled up made good seats. The 

 doctor and Ching-yii occupied the second, and our 

 remaining baggage filled the third. We had an 

 old red-bearded man with weak eyes and the 

 appearance of a Scottish elder as driver. The 

 doctor was driven by the Khirghiz' son ; and 

 the latter's servant, a gigantic man with blue eyes, 

 a fist like a leg of mutton and the strength of a 

 horse, acted as Jehu to the baggage sleigh. On 

 arriving at Bakti the Customs officials were all 

 smiles. Permits for the rifles had arrived half-an- 

 hour before and for one brief deluded moment we 

 thought all was well. Then, fatal stumbling-block, 

 I heard these ill-omened words, " Gubernator : 

 Tashkent." 



Over the doorway of each custom-house in 

 Russia should be inscribed in plain letters in 

 every language " Abandon hope all ye who enter 

 here." 



Almost immediately there was a bustle at the 

 door, a military gentleman in a green uniform, 

 stiff collar, gold epaulettes and belt, clanking sword, 



