SPEED MARVELS OF THE GOBI DESERT 23 



vast and flat that we appeared to be looking across an 

 ocean. Not the smallest hill or rise of ground broke the 

 line where earth and sky met in a faint blue haze. Our 

 cars seemed like tiny boats in a limitless, grassy sea. It 

 was sixty miles across, and for three hours the steady 

 hum of the motor hardly ceased, for the road was smooth 

 and hard. Halfway over we saw another great herd of 

 antelope and several groups of ten or twelve. These 

 were a different species from those we had killed, and I 

 got a fine young buck. Twice wolves trotted across the 

 plain, and at one, which was very inquisitive, I did some 

 shooting which I vainly try to forget. 



But most interesting to me among the wild life along 

 our way was the bustard. It is a huge bird, weighing 

 from fifteen to forty pounds, with flesh of such delicate 

 flavor that it rivals our best turkey. I had always 

 wanted to kill a bustard and my first one was neatly 

 eviscerated at two hundred yards by a Savage bullet. 

 I was more pleased than if I had shot an antelope, per- 

 haps because it did much to revive my spirits after the 

 episode of the wolf. 



Sand grouse, beautiful little gray birds, with wings 

 like pigeons and remarkable, padded feet, whistled over 

 us as we rolled along the road, and my heart was sick 

 with the thought of the excellent shooting we were miss- 

 ing. But there was no time to stop, except for such 

 game as actually crossed our path, else we should never 

 have arrived at Urga, the City of the Living God. 



Speaking of gods, I must not forget to mention the 

 great lamasery at Turin, about one himdred and seventy 



