in places where the snow lay deep.  We crossed the fairly high divide between the Egingol and Muren.  Near the pass one very unexpected event occurred to us.  We crossed the mouth of a fairly wide valley whose upper end was covered with a dense wood.  Near this wood we noticed two horsemen, evidently watching us.  Their manner of sitting in their saddles and the character of their horses told us that they were not Mongols.  We began shouting and waving to them; but they did not answer.  Out of the wood emerged a third and stopped to look at us.  We decided to interview them and, whipping up our horses, galloped toward them.  When we were about one thousand yards from them, they slipped from their saddles and opened on us with a running fire.  Fortunately we rode a little apart and thus made a poor target for them.  We jumped off our horses, dropped prone on the ground and prepared to fight.  However, we did not fire because we thought it might be a mistake on their part, thinking that we were Reds.  They shortly made off.  Their shots from the European rifles had given us further proof that they were not Mongols.  We waited until they had disappeared into the woods and then went forward to investigate their tracks, which we found were those of shod horses, clearly corroborating the earlier evidence that they were not Mongols.  Who could they have been?  We never found out; yet what a different relationship they might have borne to our lives, had their shots been true!

After we had passed over the divide, we met the Russian colonist D. A. Teternikoff from Muren Kure, who invited us to stay in his house and promised to secure camels for us from the Lamas.  The cold was intense and heightened by a piercing wind.  During the day we froze to the bone but at night thawed and warmed up nicely by our tent stove.  After two days we entered the valley of Muren and from afar made out the square of the Kure with its Chinese roofs and large red temples.  Nearby was a second square, the Chinese and Russian settlement.  Two hours more brought us to the house of our hospitable companion and his attractive young wife who feasted us with a wonderful luncheon of tasty dishes.  We spent five days at Muren waiting for the camels to be engaged.  During this time many refugees arrived from Khathyl because Colonel Kazagrandi was gradually falling back upon the town.  Among others there were two Colonels, Plavako and Maklakoff, who had caused the disruption of the Kazagrandi force.  No sooner had the refugees appeared in Muren Kure than the Mongolian officials announced that the Chinese authorities had ordered them to drive out all Russian refugees.

“Where can we go now in winter with women and children and no homes of our own?” asked the distraught refugees.

“That is of no moment to us,” answered the Mongolian officials.  “The Chinese authorities are angry and have ordered us to drive you away.  We cannot help you at all.”

The refugees had to leave Muren Kure and so erected their tents in the open not far away.  Plavako and Maklakoff bought horses and started out for Van Kure.  Long afterwards I learned that both had been killed by the Chinese along the road.