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A Tale Of A Tour In Mongolia - Chapter 4

( Originally Published 1920 )

" Those who know when they have enough are rich " Chinese proverb

THE countryside at this point, some seventy miles north-west of the Great Wall, begins to lose its cultivated aspect and to develop into great stretches of undulating prairie as far as the eye can see, which would have been ideal for riding had one had no retarding caravan to be kept in view. By this time I had grown quite attached to my pony, for although obstinate, as Mongolians must always appear by comparison with Europeans, he had a very fair mouth and was evidently used to being well treated. The monotony of the plains was broken not far from the last sign of civilisation, Haraossu, a place composed of a temple and a few houses, to reach which we had the excitement of fording a river, the carters making no end of a bother about this. First of all they persuaded one of the younger Mongols to divest himself of his trousers in order to wade out to ascertain at which point the animals would best be able to negotiate it. He walked into the water gingerly enough, the others all pouring advice into his ears at the tops of their voices, and after a considerable delay and a ridiculous amount of fussing and preparation the water in the deepest part did not come up to our axles we got over with great yelling and shouting. The little red pony in my tandem flew over as though demons were after him, nearly upsetting the cart by rushing up the steep bank on the opposite side. My saddle pony went over quietly enough with me on his back, I having reassured him by letting him drink a little water first, and having therefore no difficulty at all.

The last mud hut, a private house there being no more inns on this side of the Gobi desert was reached long after dark. It was a truly depressing habitation, the only virtue of which was that it was almost deserted save for an old man and his two sons. They may have had relatively comfortable quarters, but all that they could be induced to give us was the merest little out house, a lean to shed, from the roof of which hung cobwebs heavy with the dust of ages. Warmth or comfort there was none. Stacked round the walls and in the corners were harness, primitive agricultural appliances, a collection of fusty bags, and a mass of rubbish. When the dim light of our candles penetrated to the rafters we saw hanging therefrom a number of skins of sheep, goats, etc., some of them quite recently disassociated from their carcasses and in sanguinary condition, as well as a skeleton of what I diagnosed as a cat.

It was a horrible place and so appallingly dirty that one felt desire neither to eat nor rest in it. Packed up on the tail of my cart, however, I carried a canvas camp-bed of which I had not expected to make use before arriving at TaBol. Here it was a great comfort, for at least it raised me above the dust-level of the crowded king,and one did one's best to become oblivious of the surroundings as soon as possible. The owners of the place were evidently very nervous, and a murmur of conversation kept me awake most of the night. They would tell us nothing, however, and pretended ignorance of all that was taking place in the country. Seeing some fowls, we persuaded them with some difficulty to sell us a few eggs, which they assured us were perfectly fresh. To my surprise, however, in applying the test of spinning them round, they whirled like a teetotum, and I learned for the first time of the native custom of hard-boiling them as soon as they were laid.

We awoke to very cold weather next day, and I found to my sorrow that my pony had developed a swollen back and that it would be unwise to saddle him. Starting by leading him, I tied him up later on to the tail of the cart just in front of my own, thinking to keep an eye on him as we followed. But this was too undignified for the game little beast, and with a toss of his head he broke his reins and went off at a gallop, heading for the detestable quarters we had left an hour earlier. This delayed us considerably, for we had already made a late start owing to my stupid old Mongol first breaking the strap which held my bedding together and then so packing everything into my cart that I could not possibly get into it as well. The entire contents had to be disgorged and re-arranged.

By this time I had got my carters pretty well into shape, and they were beginning to realise that things had to be done in my way, that the cart was mine pro tem., and that I was not out for their sole amusement. In a country where women are wont to take such an entirely back seat it needs time and perseverance to establish this novel state of affairs. As I had foreseen, there being two of them to one of me, they tried in a mild way to bully me by seating themselves on my shafts at the same time, thereby, when I was inside, completely obscuring my view, and putting me on a level with the native women who are neither seen nor heard. It was, too, only by considerable firmness that I established a right to my favourite possession, a large sheet of Chinese oilcloth. My bed was spread upon it at night, when it made a sort of neutral territory between myself and the many insects by which I was likely to be attacked. By day it shielded my baggage from the dust and occasional rain storms, as well as gladdening my eyes when they rested upon its brilliant imperial yellow. Not once but many times did my driver try to annex this precious oilcloth in order to protect his fodder there-with.

With two of the Mongols who accompanied us for their own convenience, I had very little to do. One of them, a son-in-law of the older man, was a mere youth, very under sized, of seventeen or eighteen, whose wedding, I learned later, was the great event of a few months previously in Inner Mongolia. The father-in-law treated him with much respect and consideration, for the boy is rich as Mongols go, and was returning from Kalgan with saddle bags filled with purchases for his bride ;most uncomfortable they must have been, since they pushed out his short legs from the saddle in a most ludicrous way. Starting an hour or so later than we did, they were handed a packet of letters which arrived just after I left, as well as a dollar's worth of stamps. They remembered to give me the letters a day or' two afterwards,but I can only conclude that they kept the stamps to trade with next time they visited Kalgan, for I saw them never at all.

Mongols pure and simple inhabited the hut at which we drew rein for our horses' midday rest, and girls with bright chubby cheeks and large dark eyes came out to stare at us. After this between us and the Gobi there was nothing but boundless prairie with an occasional group of Mongol yourts, or tents. The air here was so clear that the eye carried for a considerable distance. Far out on the horizon one may see objects bobbing up and down, and, like a ship upon the high seas the sails of which corne into view long before her hull, these objects gradually resolve themselves into figures, and a couple of Mongols mounted upon camels dawn upon one's view, swinging along at a great pace, the wind at their backs. They are the pioneers of a storm and great clouds of dust are rolling up behind them.

The unusual sight not only of a whirlwind, but of a whirlwind walking across the prairie was very striking. It revolves at a tremendous rate upon its own axis as well as making swift progress. In the high wind we found hereabouts, I several times saw two or more solid columns of dust rising high into the air, apparently stalking each other over the plains. Another curious and equally amusing sight was that created by lumps of camel wool, which, becoming detached, are blown along gathering loose dry grass and more wool on their way, gradually forming huge boluses and rundling along in the high wind with an amazing velocity.

We were now in Mongolia proper, and the language of the people we met appealed to me as infinitely more musical and harmonious than the throaty sounds that emanate from the mandarin speaking Chinese. Early in the day we arrived at the home of my old Mongol, Dobdun, and here in his yourt we were evidently not only eagerly expected, but received a very hearty welcome from the wives, a lama priest, brother of our host, and from a number of young people and children.

There were several yourts clustered together, and outside the ubiquitous Tibetan prayer flags fluttered in the wind. As we rode up, we were greeted by a volley of barks from several ferocious dogs, and in Mongolia one soon learns never to dismount until some one from the yourt comes out to control them. When within shouting distance of the settlement at which one wishes to stop, one should stop and call out the word Nuhuoi " (Mongolian for dogs), which as a rule brings out not only the dogs themselves, if they are not already on your tracks, but the inhabitants of the yourts who are bound by law to control them.

The yourt is an umbrella-like framework of trellis-wood covered with rather thick felt, which when new is perfectly white, and in travelling in cold weather I ask for nothing better than to be housed in one of these. Some 14 to 18 feet in diameter, they are circular in form, having a dome-shaped roof. The door, which is originally painted red, faces always south or southeast. Upon entering the yourt, you are confronted by the little family altar, on which is arranged a Buddha and perhaps several smaller and subsidiary gods, together with sundry little brass cups containing offerings of one sort and another. In front of the altar is a low Chinese table, and round the sides of Dobdun's yourt were some fine old red lacquer chests for clothes and valuables. Most of these had nice old Chinese locks, but on one of them the Finn recognised an European padlock as his own which he lost when travelling a year ago with this same Mongol. He did not call attention to the fact ; it would be of little use, for Mongols pick up and pocket things when the opportunity occurs and think nothing at all of it.

Dobdun's yourt was exceptionally well-equipped. The ground was covered with semi-circular mats of very thick white felt with a device applique in black as a border. Some handsome skins were also strewn about. The centre of the yourt was occupied by an iron basket of flaming argot, the smoke from which escaped through a circular opening in the roof. Our host, my quondam " boy," being a man of means, had some handsome cushions for his guests to sit upon, and on these we squatted cross-legged. There is a considerable amount of etiquette to be observed in visiting a Mongol family, and the first thing to be remembered is of significant importance. Just as one does not carry an umbrella into a London drawing-room, neither should one take a whip or stick into a Mongol yourt. To do so is tanta-mount to an act of aggression, and the proper thing is to lay them on the roof outside as one enters. Once inside, the usual palaver, as in China, takes place as to where one shall sit, and it is interesting to reflect how very nearly related after all in some respects our own manners are to those of the Asiatics. It would surely be a very modern young person who would plump himself into the largest armchair before his elders and betters were disposed of.

To the left of the fire are the seats of the lowly,and the inevitable invitation to " come up higher " necessitates a certain amount of elasticity on the part of those unaccustomed to sink gracefully to the ground into a cross-legged position. Should cramp ensue from squatting thus, the visitor should remember that to sit with his feet pointing to the back of the tent is a heinous breach of good manners. If stretch they must, it should be towards the door, not the altar. On the other hand, if the foreigner divests himself of his headgear,which among the Mongols is not customary, he must place it higher up than, that is, on the altar side of, himself. If the word of greeting has for the moment been mislaid, as in my own case it invariably was, bows and smiles carry one a long way all the world over. Friendliness, but never to the point of permitting the least familiarity, seemed to me in the East to pave the way as a rule.

With their warm welcome, a good deal of curiosity is naturally combined, and I did not flatter myself that it was " love at first sight " which made the ladies of the family so anxious to sit near to me. Again, as the Chinese do, the Mongols like to finger one's clothes, get a close look at our " funny white eyes and light hair," and if one wears a ring, they are as amused as hildren to be allowed to try it on. But Dobdun, having had some experience of Europeans was not going to allow his womenkind to over-reach themselves, and their share in the entertainment was to initiate me into the mysteries of Mongol tea-making, and keep the fire going, and then,literally, to take a back seat and allow the superior sex to converse. Having finally settled into such seats as befitted the relative dignity of the visitors, an interchange of snuff-bottles took place, but in the case of Mongols alone it would be the caller who would offer his to the host and then to the others present.

Of all their personal possessions, there is nothing more highly prized by the Mongols throughout the country than their snuff-bottles, which, in the case of rich men, are frequently made of carved jade, crystal, and precious stones. A considerable amount of ritual surrounds the offering and receiving of the snuff-bottle. Our host, however, pandering to our foreign ways, produced his snuff, and I learned from him to receive it in the palm of my hand, lift it slowly to my nose, sniff, and then bowing return it with deliberation to the owner. Dobdun's habitat, I was warned, was not to be taken as an index to all yourts, for the general cleanliness, as well as the quality of the tea there, were vastly superior to anything else I was likely to meet in Mongolia. I was, in fact, being let down very easy in my initiation.

The Mongols are very hospitable and insist upon giving the visitor tea and milk. It is at first a trying experience to know that good manners compel you to drink from a filthy bowl the still filthier milk which you see taken from a skin bag, made from the innards " of a sheep, hanging up the side of the yourt, and offered to you by hands which from the day they were born appear never to have been washed. Brick tea, of which there are several qualities, and which in some parts of Mongolia still forms the currency, is made at Hankow from the dust and sweepings of the leaf. It is used throughout the country, and forms the staple drink of the Mongols. It is brewed by shavings, cut from the slab, being pounded up and stewed indefinitely in milk, to which salt and a cheesy description of butter are added.

The relation between the tea and the argol was somewhat too intimate for my peace of mind, and it went sometimes much against the grain to drink from a bowl wiped out by the fingers of some dirty old woman who the moment before had been employed in feeding the fire with the horse or camel droppings. The collecting of argol is a source of constant occupation throughout the spring and summer, when after being spread over the ground in the sun, it is piled in great mounds near the yourts for use during the winter months. It makes a good hot fire and has practically no smell at all when burning. While engaged in endeavouring to drink this saline mixture and at the same time to convey the impression that I liked it, an elderly man in a loose robe of dark red cotton cloth, his head clean-shaved, rode up, dismounted, and came in. He was presented to me as my brother, the lama ". He was an old friend of the missionary, and they at once entered into an animated conversation.

A particularly handsome small boy with large and merry brown eyes made his appearance soon after, and to my surprise, lama priests being vowed to celibacy, was introduced by Dobdun as the son of my brother, the lama ". The Finn chaffed the priest gently on the subject of the breaking of his vows, whereupon every one laughed, including the illegitimate son, who, a fine lad of twelve or so, had already been dedicated to the temple and was now a lama student. They retaliated, I heard subsequently, by asking the missionary what on earth he was doing travelling about the country with a woman. This might have embarrassed me had I known the language. It is not the first time that I have experienced the blissfulness of ignorance. The lama in embryo and his little sister were quite willing to be photographed later on, and were posed for me by their seniors at their usual occupation gathering argol.

In spite of Dobdun's constant association with missionaries at Kalgan, in spite of the fact that he knows by heart quite half of the Bible, that he has had every opportunity and every encouragement to become a Christian, he remains as devout a Buddhist as ever he was ; and, although interested in the religion of the Western world, he regards it as similar but vastly inferior to his own faith.

And so he continues to enshrine his little brass figure of the prophet, and at sundry times he doubtless makes his prostrations, and fills up the many little metal cups with suitable offerings of corn and wine to his god.

Thus my first impression of a Mongol yourt was an extremely pleasant one, and I was sorry at the end of an hour or more to say farewell to my first Mongol friend, little knowing that he had no intention of letting me very far out of his sight and that he would turn up again within the next forty-eight hours in order to present his foreign protégée to his various friends in the neighbourhood. But you never know your luck in travelling, and in seeking shelter for the night you are as likely as not in winter to find a very different sort of yourt.

The young calves and lambs share the warmth of the stove with their owners, and, if the size of the family (a very elastic term here) is out of proportion to the accommodation of the yourt, they will all lie down together, well wedged in with their feet towards the fire in the middle, the animals squeezing in where they can.

Delightfully drowsy hours in my cart over smooth prairie followed the substantial meal in the warmth of the yourt as we pressed on toward TaBol, when l was suddenly awakened by an unexpected halt, in time to see the Finn dismount at the sight of a couple of Mongols on camels who drew up to speak to him. The camel-riders made their beasts kneel and they swung themselves out of their saddles to shake the missionary warmly by both hands. By this time a third man riding one and leading another pony appeared on the scene and the four men squatted on the ground in earnest conference. It transpired that they were attached to a great caravan on its way down to Kalgan ; that they had already been obliged to go much out of their way in order to avoid the soldiers ; and that they would be thankful if the Finn would give them " written words " in case any further effort were made to commandeer their camels. I provided them with leaves from my note-book for the purpose, and the Finn did what he could for them.

Exactly why his words should have weight with Government troops in a country under martial law, I could never quite fathom. Perhaps it was that the soldiers from China and these Mongols from Urga would not be able to speak one another's language more than probable. These Mongols at all events departed quite happy and apparently much reassured by the missionary's advice. The horseman lent the Finn the capital little pony he was leading. They would meet again before long, he said, and then it could be returned to him. That night I reached the most northerly point of my little excursion into the wilds, and camped out in the vicinity of the only mission in the heart of Mongolia.

Lack of hospitality has never been one of the variety of faults so erroneously attributed to missionaries, but the little five-roomed mud structure which housed two families as well as three or four unattached men and women, to say nothing of an adopted Mongol orphan, had its imitations, and I was not at all sorry to pitch my own tent rather than tax the already overburdened resources of this newly established station. It was but a few weeks after my visit that this little community had to fly for their lives in the face of the pillaging Mongols from the north, and up to the present time there has been apparently but little hope of their returning to rebuild the ruins of their compound, and to resume their almost hopeless task of conversion. Missions in China are making quite unprecedented progress at the present time, owing doubtless in some degree to the prevailing desire for Western education and enlightenment in general. But Buddhism, or indeed any other form of belief, has nothing approaching so strong a hold over the Chinese as Lamaism has over the Mongols, where in every family at least one boy is dedicated from birth to the priesthood, and where lamas are estimated as forming over 60 per cent. of the total male population.

Within hail of this plucky little band I pitched my tent, and for the first time experienced the diversions of life under canvas in what was practically winter and during a gale. Among certain things I lay claim to have learnt at TaBol was how to appear cheery and optimistic at breakfast time when from early dawn and even earlier one had been engaged in finding out all about the ways and possibilities of canvas during a raging hurricane. The Mongols are an astonishingly feckless lot of people compared with the Chinese who nearly invariably " go one better " and improve upon anything one shows them from the Western world. The first thing that happened when I retired for the night was the collapse of my canvas bed. The " boy," to whom the business of erecting it and my tent had been entrusted, had satisfied his conscience by merely hooking the ends to the bed supports, and had left the sides (literally) to rip. They did. With a tremendous effort, the light blowing out at intervals, I managed to detach the frame from the canvas and begin again. In course of time, and extremely cold, I got into bed. By 3 a.m. I was aroused by the flap of the tent untying itself and making a most irritating noise. There was nothing for it but to wake up thoroughly and make it fast.

I think I could not have been asleep more than half an hour before I gradually became conscious that my tent appeared to be the sole obstacle in the path of a tremendous hurricane on its way down from Urga to Peking, for all the force of the gale sweeping over hundreds of miles of desert seemed to be expending its force upon the canvas. The flap-flap was merely the overture to a grand chorus, and the cords on one side of the tent suddenly freeing themselves from the pegs outside, the entire place became transformed in the twinkling of an eye into a pandemonium.

The dust was dense and my belongings blew round in it in base imitation of the whirlwinds which had amused me so much during the early part of the previous day. Loose corners of the tent smacked at everything with extraordinary vigour, smashing all that carne within their reach and inflicting stinging slaps as one sought to make them fast. Any sort of light was out of the question and chaos reigned for hours. Having made the ropes fast again and, regardless of dust, deposited everything upon the ground with the heavier articles on the top as the only possible expedient, I again made a bid for the oblivion of a final nap. From sheer exhaustion I managed to sleep again even in that storm, to wake up shivering with cold and in a gritty condition of great discomfort. For the rest every single article in the tent had to be cleaned when the wind went down. Among things I noted during that eventful night was that it is essential when sleeping so near to the bosom of mother earth in winter to pack as many clothes underneath as on the top of one's body in a canvas bed. More than once I woke up in the morning quite stiff with cold. Life, however, is full of contrasts, and " joy cometh with the morning ". At an early hour' a missionary called upon me with a pleasing proposition from the Mongols, who, hearing that I had a gun, thought that it would be a good opportunity to organise a wolf hunt. Wolves are the arch enemies of the Mongols on account of the tremendous amount of damage they do to the stock. The Mongols hunt them with a zest bred of vengeance, and ride them down (at a somewhat severe cost to their ponies, for the pace is terrific and the strain great), finally lassoing them with a loop of raw hide attached to the end of a pole. The wolf thus caught has a poor time at the hands of the revengeful hunter, and I heard horrible stories of the unfortunate brutes being pegged down to earth, jaws bound, skinned alive except the head, and then set free. Of Mongol bravery there is no doubt, but the reason they give for wolves never attacking men in Mongolia is typical of their " bounce " and conceit. Wolves certainly " go for " people in Russia immediately north, and in Manchuria and China immediately to the east and south of Mongolia. The Russians and Chinese, say the Mongols, are cowards and run away, while they, the Mongols, attack the wolves, yelling and shouting.

A certain she-wolf had for some time carried on successful forays in the neighbourhood, and had done considerable damage, not only among the flocks and herds, but had even pulled down a colt quite near to a settlement. Her lair, where it was suspected that she was maintaining a litter of young cubs, had been located on a distant hill-side. Our armament on this occasion was, though varied, quite insufficient, and consisted only of our service and two smaller revolvers as well as a shot gun. We lacked the essential rifle. The expedition, however, was not wholly unsuccessful. Taking a line well to leeward of the suspected hill-side, four of us with as many Mongols, armed with spades and picks, spreading ourselves out with a view to cutting off the retreat of the old wolf, should she attempt to dodge us, began a silent march over the dried-up grass. We had walked for less than half an hour when, sure enough, the vibrations of our footsteps carried the news of our approach through the earth to the lair, and in the distance we descried the lady, who, while keeping her weather eye upon us, was making off at a swinging lope at right angles to us. If only we had had a rifle ! Each of us was ready to pose as a certain shot and swore to the unquestioned demise of the wolf in such a case. A couple of excellent shots from the service revolver scuffed up the dust after her retreating form, and some of us ran at an angle and tried to head her off by shooting in front of her. But pack of novices that we were, she got well away, her tongue no doubt in her cheek, and we watched her regretfully into dim distance. Hard work was to take place of suitable weapons. The lair was not difficult of discovery.

The hillside was a perfect honeycomb of holes, and we tried several before settling down to the task of a navvy upon the most promising group.

We all took our turn in wielding the two Chinese spades the Mongols had brought with them, and before long we had made a deep gully some eight or nine feet in length and four or five in depth which we fondly hoped would soon disclose the nest. Our disappointment in discovering that we had merely turned up a passage which went off sharply to the innermost recesses of the slope was great, and two of the party threw up the sponge, declaring that the game was not in the least worth the candle. Personally, I had ulterior motives in view, and was nothing loth to getting my muscles into trim by such excellent exercise as digging. To become the owner of a couple of wolf cubs and to take them back with me to Peking and possibly ship them home alive seemed to me very well worth while.

We dug all day, and towards evening decided,on the advice of the Mongols, to try to smoke out the wolves by lighting a fire at another entrance to the group of holes upon which we were engaged. We were certainly rewarded, not by a capture of wolves, but by one of the most wonderful sights I had experienced in the East. Whether accidental or intentional, it was not very clear, but in any case the Mongols managed to start a prairie blaze which ran like wildfire over acres and acres of dried-up grass. It was a wonderful display. Numbers of eagles, harrier eagles, they called them, hovered and hung over the burning expanse, swooping down with deadly certainty upon any ground game that might run. It was very interesting to watch four of these great birds hunt and chase a miserable white hare which simply had no chance at all.

There is any amount of sport even in this unpromising part of Mongolia ; antelope, prairie chicken, and hare offering a welcome variety to the everlasting mutton of the stewpot. It was fortunate that the fire spread in a direction away from the little mission station and the Mongol yourts near it. At night the whole horizon to the west was glowing, and one could see flames leaping high from time to time as they licked up some little bush or scrub, the hillocks becoming sharply outlined for a while and then part of the blaze itself. Had the strong wind of the night before kept up we should have been in a tight corner. It was an alarming as well as a beautiful sight. The relentless progress of the crackling flames was awe-inspiring, and the phenomenal part of it , all was that after laying bare some thousands of acres, the whole thing seemed to fizzle out almost as rapidly as it had begun. I gathered that it was against the law of the country to start such fires, but the Mongols seemed to think that it all made for good and that the new grass would have all the better chance by the clearing off of the old.

At daybreak the following morning a couple of us sallied forth once more to the scene of yesterday's excavations, and seeing from the distance some movement among the upturned earth we fired, to find upon closer inspection that one fluffy little cub playing outside the hole had been badly peppered and that another one had been killed outright. That there were more inside was fairly certain, for a litter usually consists of from five to seven or more. We decided to continue digging operations. After several hours' extremely hard work and a display of great bravery on the part of one of the missionaries who burrowed into the hole, where there might very well have lurked the parent wolf, until nothing but his feet could be seen outside, we came upon a nest of three more cubs as well as a wounded one in a passage leading to it.

The Mongols were delighted with the bag, and clamoured for the pretty soft little creatures whom it went to my heart to destroy. One was spared for me, and I fed it for several days from a Mongol baby bottle but it died. The baby bottle of the country, I may mention, is the horn of a cow pierced through to the tip, with a teat cut from the udder of a sheep attached thereto. A great many babies whose mothers have died in child-birth are, I am told, brought up in this way. By the time we had finished our labours we had dug a trench of over twenty feet long, sometimes seven feet in depth, to say nothing of various false tracks, in the process of which we turned up several tons of very tough earth, blistered our hands badly, and made a most untidy mess of the hillside. Over and above their joy at having given the happy despatch to no fewer than six of their potential enemies, the Mongols were delighted to cut up the wolves for the sake of their livers, which form one of their most highly valued medicines.

A Tour In Mongolia:
A Tale Of A Tour In Mongolia - Chapter 1

A Tale Of A Tour In Mongolia - Chapter 2

A Tale Of A Tour In Mongolia - Chapter 3

A Tale Of A Tour In Mongolia - Chapter 4

A Tale Of A Tour In Mongolia - Chapter 5

A Tale Of A Tour In Mongolia - Chapter 6

A Tale Of A Tour In Mongolia - Chapter 7

A Tale Of A Tour In Mongolia - Chapter 8

A Tale Of A Tour In Mongolia - Chapter 9

A Tale Of A Tour In Mongolia - Chapter 10

Read More Articles About: A Tour In Mongolia

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