6o2 DZUNGARIA 



which is the name by which it is known among the natives 

 of Dzungaria. To do so I must retrace our steps to the 

 time when, in January, we were travelhng eastwards 

 along the snow-covered surface of the Pei-lu. Though, 

 in answer to our frequent questions, we were continually 

 being vaguely assured of their existence, it was not till 

 we reached Shi-Kho that any definite information was 

 forthcoming. A blacksmith there informed us that 

 not only were kulon constantly seen from the road 

 between Shi-Kho and the village of Yandzhikhai, but 

 that two Chantos actually possessed a tame one not far 

 from the latter place. 



Two stages over rising treeless ground, with an 

 unbroken expanse of snow in every direction, and a 

 cutting wind which froze the breath to our beards and 

 moustaches till we could hardly open our mouths to 

 speak, brought us to the small village with the un- 

 pronounceable name. On hearing from the head-man 

 that the Chantos owning the tame kulon lived ten miles 

 to the south, on the edge of the foot-hills, I decided 

 to pay them a visit, the opportunity of seeing one of 

 these animals in captivity being too good to lose. 



Early in the morning after our arrival, Pereira and I, 

 with one man as a guide, started off, making a detour 

 in search of a herd of kulon which had been recently 

 seen in the vicinity. We did find their tracks, but soon 

 had to give up looking for them, owing to a blinding 

 snowstorm, which made it impossible to see more than 

 fifty yards in any direction. It was a mystery to me how 

 our guide found his way, for any track that there might 

 have been was completely covered by the snow. How- 

 ever, with almost uncanny native instinct, he led us 

 unerringly to our destination, a large mud-hut by a 



