journey. We rode all night, with our exhausted horses constantly
stopping and some lying down under us, but we forced them ever onward.
At last, when the sun was at its zenith, we finally halted. Without
unsaddling our horses, we gave them an opportunity to lie down for a
little rest. Before us lay a broad, swampy plain, where was evidently
the sources of the river Ma-chu. Not far beyond lay the Lake of Aroung
Nor. We made our fire of cattle dung and began boiling water for our
tea. Again without any warning the bullets came raining in from all
sides. Immediately we took cover behind convenient rocks and waited
developments. The firing became faster and closer, the raiders appeared
on the whole circle round us and the bullets came ever in increasing
numbers. We had fallen into a trap and had no hope but to perish. We
realized this clearly. I tried anew to begin the parley; but when I
stood up with my white flag, the answer was only a thicker rain of
bullets and unfortunately one of these, ricocheting off a rock, struck
me in the left leg and lodged there. At the same moment another one of
our company was killed. We had no other choice and were forced to begin
fighting. The struggle continued for about two hours. Besides myself
three others received slight wounds. We resisted as long as we could.
The hunghutze approached and our situation became desperate.

"There's no choice," said one of my associates, a very expert Colonel.
"We must mount and ride for it . . . anywhere."

"Anywhere. . . ." It was a terrible word! We consulted for but an
instant. It was apparent that with this band of cut-throats behind us
the farther we went into Tibet, the less chance we had of saving our
lives.

We decided to return to Mongolia. But how? That we did not know. And