92 ACROSS MONGOLIAN PLAINS 



But our second day was not destined to be one of un- 

 alloyed happiness, for just after luncheon we reached a 

 bad stretch of road alternating between jagged rocks 

 and deep mud holes. The white horse, which was so 

 quickly exhausted the day before, gave up absolutely 

 when its cart became badly mired. Just then a red 

 lama appeared with four led ponies and said that one of 

 his horses could extricate the cart. He hitched a tiny 

 brown animal between the shafts, we all put our shoul- 

 ders to the wheels, and in ten minutes the load was on 

 solid ground. We at once offered to trade horses, and 

 by giving a bonus of five dollars I became the possessor 

 of the brown pony. 



But the story does not end there. Two months later 

 when we had returned to Urga a Mongol came to our 

 camp in great excitement and announced that we had 

 one of his horses. He said that five animals had been 

 stolen from him and that the little brown pony for which 

 I had traded with the lama was one of them. His proof 

 was incontrovertible and according to the law of the 

 country I was bound to give back the animal and accept 

 the loss. However, a half dozen hard-riding Mongol 

 soldiers at once took up the trail of the lama, and the 

 chances are that there will be one less thieving priest 

 before the incident is closed. 



It is interesting to note how a similarity of conditions 

 in western America and in Mongolia has developed 

 exactly the same attitude of mutual protection in regard 

 to horses. In both countries horse-stealing is considered 

 to be one of the worst crimes. It is punishable by death 



