CHAPTER XI 



MONGOLS AT HOME 



Until we left Urga the second time Mongolia, to us, 

 had meant only the Gobi Desert and the boundless, 

 rolling plains. When we set our faces northward we 

 found it was also a land of mountains and rivers, of 

 somber forests and gorgeous flowers. 



A new forest always thrills me mightily. Be it of 

 stately northern pines, or a jungle tangle in the trop- 

 ics, it is so filled with glamour and mystery that I enter 

 it with a delightful feeling of expectation. There is 

 so much that is concealed from view, it is so pregnant 

 with the possibility of surprises, that I am as excited 

 as a child on Christmas morning. 



The forests of Mongolia were by no means disap- 

 pointing. We entered them just north of Urga where 

 the Siberian life zone touches the plains of the central 

 Asian region and the beginnings of a new fauna are 

 sharply delineated by the limit of the trees. We had 

 learned that the Terelche River would offer a fruitful 

 collecting ground. It was only forty miles from Urga 

 and the first day's trip was a delight. We traveled 

 northward up a branch valley enclosed by forested hills 

 and carpeted with flowers. Never had we seen such 

 flowers! Acre after acre of bluebells, forget-me-nots, 



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