ACROSS DZUNGARIA 545 



On one occasion we actually had to unload and un- 

 saddle the horses, to spread all the felts we possessed on 

 the soft bog, and to lead the animals and carry the 

 baggage over them to firmer ground. 



Travelling transversely to the water-courses, as we 

 were now doing, entailed heart-breaking detours in order 

 to cross the deep-cut gorges which had been carved 

 out by the streams, when once a year — in spring — the 

 melting snows sent down from the lofty border-ranges 

 a flood of useless water. The plain, as a whole, looked 

 easy-going and level, but was in reality seamed with 

 sheer-sided trenches, the high, earthy banks of which 

 were difficult obstacles to negotiate. Their existence 

 was not realized until the lip of a nullah was reached; 

 then a way had to be found for the baggage-horses to 

 descend into a bottom choked with a jungle of scrub, 

 tall reeds, poplar, and wild olive; tearing our way 

 through the jungle we were involved in another climb 

 up the opposite cliff. The baggage, as often as not, 

 came off on the descent, and, being once more loaded 

 up, slipped again on the ascent — that is to say, when 

 we succeeded in finding a possible crossing ; more often 

 we were compelled to follow the brink of the ravines 

 for a long way and lead the caravan by an easier road. 



In spite of the jungle-choked ravines and bogs, we 

 sometimes incurred the risk of a shortage of water. The 

 xavines were often dry, although they had an inviting 

 appearance of luxuriant growth ; while the bogs were 

 merely formed by the percolating up of brackish water. 

 The dry plain drank up the drainage from the mountains 

 and quickly swallowed all rain that fell, yet at this season 

 chance pools of rain-water might be found, as we were 

 once fortunate enough to discover, when, at the end of a 



