208 ACROSS MONGOLIAN PLAINS 



bination of the Chinese language, but we could al- 

 ways piece it out with signs, and we never misunder- 

 stood each other on any important matter. 



We had many friendly differences of opinion about 

 the way in which to conduct a stalk, and his childlike 

 glee when he was proved correct was most refreshing. 

 One morning I got the better of him, and for days he 

 could not forget it. We were sitting on a hillside, and 

 with my glasses I picked up a herd of sheep far away 

 on the uplands. "Yes," he said, "one is a very big 

 ram." How he could tell at that distance was a mys- 

 tery to me, but I did not question his statement for he 

 had proved too often that his range of sight was al- 

 most beyond belief. 



We started toward the sheep, and after half a mile 

 I looked again. Then I thought I saw a grasscutter, 

 and the animals seemed like donkeys. I said as much 

 but the hunter laughed. "Why, I saw the horns," he 

 said. "One is a big one, a very big one." I stopped 

 a second time and made out a native bending over, cut- 

 ting grass. But I could not convince the Mongol. He 

 disdained my glasses and would not even put them to 

 his eyes. "I don't have to I know they are sheep," 

 he laughed. But I, too, was sure. "Well, we'll see," 

 he said. When we looked again, there could be no mis- 

 take ; the sheep were donkeys. It was a treat to watch 

 the Mongol's face, and I made much capital of his mis- 

 take, for he had so often teased me when I was wrong. 



But to return to the sheep across the valley which 

 we were stalking on that sunlit Thursday noon. After 



