158 ACROSS MONGOLIAN PLAINS 



At Urga, in June, the great meet which the Living God 

 blesses with his presence is an amazing spectacle, remi- 

 niscent of the pageants of the ancient emperors. All 

 the elite of Mongolia gather on the banks of the Tola 

 River, dressed in their most splendid robes, and the 

 archery, wrestling, and horse racing are famous 

 throughout the East. 



This love of sport is one of the most attractive char- 

 acteristics of the Mongols. It is a common ground on 

 which a foreigner immediately has a point of contact. 

 The Chinese, on the contrary, despise all forms of physi- 

 cal exercise. They consider it "bad form," and they do 

 not understand any sport which calls for violent exer- 

 tion. They prefer to take a quiet walk, carrying their 

 pet bird in a cage for an airing; to play a game of cards ; 

 or, if they must travel, to loll back in a sedan chair, with 

 the curtains drawn and every breath of air excluded. 



The Terelche Valley meet was held on a flat strip of 

 ground just below our camp. As my wife and I rode 

 out of the forest, a dozen Mongols swept by, gorgeous in 

 flaming red and streaming peacock plumes. They 

 waved a challenge to us, and we joined them in a wild 

 race to a flag in the center of the field. On the side of 

 the hill sat a row of lamas in dazzling yellow gowns; 

 opposite them were the judges, among whom I recog- 

 nized Tserin Dorchy, though he was so bedecked, be- 

 hatted and beribboned that I could hardly realize that 

 it was the same old fellow with whom we had lived in 

 camp. (I presume if he saw me in the clothes of civi- 

 lization he would be equally surprised.) 



