A CHAPTER OF ACCIDENTS 35 



Father Weinz, the Belgian priest in charge, gave us the 

 first meal we had had in thirty-six hours. The Czech 

 courier decided to remain at Hei-ma-hou and go in next 

 day by cart, but we started immediately on the forty- 

 mile horseback ride to Kalgan. A steady rain began 

 about two o'clock in the afternoon, and in half an hour 

 we were soaked to the skin; then the ugly, little gray 

 stallion upon which I had been mounted planted both 

 hind feet squarely on my left leg as we toiled up a long 

 hill-trail to the pass, and I thought that my walking days 

 had ended for all time. At the foot of the pass we 

 halted at a dirty inn where they told us it would be use- 

 less to go on to Kalgan, for the gates of the city would 

 certainly be closed and it would be impossible to enter 

 until morning. There was no alternative except to 

 spend the night at the inn, but as they had only a grass 

 fire which burned out as soon as the cooking was 

 finished, and as all our clothes were soaked, we spent 

 sleepless hours shivering with cold. 



The Cossack spoke only Mongol and Russian, and, 

 as neither of us knew a single word of either language, 

 it was difficult to communicate our plans to him. Fi- 

 nally, we found a Chinaman who spoke Mongol and 

 who consented to act as interpreter. The natives at the 

 inn could not understand why we were not able to talk 

 to the Cossack. Didn't all white men speak the same 

 language? Mr. Price endeavored to explain that Rus- 

 sian and English differ as much as do Chinese and 

 Mongol, but they only smiled and shook their heads. 



In the morning I was so stiff from the kick which the 



