Across the Gobi Desert E-Book

Dr. Sven Hedin

• Herausgeber: Jazzybee Verlag
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 672

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Beschreibung

The socalled Sino-Swedish Expedition was a bilateral undertaking led by Sven Hedin that conducted scientific research in northern and northwestern China from 1927 to 1935. The expedition was particularly concerned with the meteorology, topography, and prehistory of Mongolia, the Gobi Desert, and Xinjiang. Chiang Kai-shek was one of the patrons of the expedition. In the years 1927-32 the party travelled from Beijing via Baotou, Mongolia, Gobi Desert, Xinjiang to Urumqi. Some of the adventures of these years are described in this book, that was originally published in 1931.

Leseprobe

Across the Gobi Desert

SVEN HEDIN

Across the Gobi Desert, Sven Hedin

Jazzybee Verlag Jürgen Beck

86450 Altenmünster, Loschberg 9

Deutschland

ISBN: 9783849663728

www.jazzybee-verlag.de

[email protected]

CONTENTS:

PREFACE.. 1

I. AWAY AT LAST.. 8

II. THROUGH THE PROMISED LAND OF ROBBER BANDS. 17

III. OUR CARAVANS ASSEMBLE IN MONGOLIA.. 27

IV. "THE TOWN OF NATIONS ". 33

V. ONE OF THE CHIEF TASKS OF OUR EXPEDITION: METEOROLOGICAL OBSERVATIONS42

VI. WE SEPARATE INTO THREE COLUMNS. 51

VII. THE LAST DAYS ON HUTYERTU-GOL.. 58

VIII. REVOLT OF THE CAMELS. 73

IX. COUNCIL OF WAR IN CAMP XIII88

X. TO THE MONASTERY OF SHANDE-MIAO... 105

XI. ON THE CAMELS’ ROAD OF AFFLICTION... 117

XII A THIEF-HUNT IN THE DESERT.. 124

XI. BY THE "ISLAND OF FABLE" TO THE " BLACK TOWN ". 131

XIV. A PASTORAL CAMP. 139

XV. A CHINESE FESTIVAL AND A GERMAN COURIER.. 148

XVI. BY CANOE ON ETSIN-GOL. 158

XVI. BY SOKHO-NOR TO GASHUN-NOR.. 169

XVIII. PERMANENT STATION NO. 1. 177

XIX. DESERT MARCHES AND SAND-STORMS. 187

XX. WINTER HARDENS. 195

XXI. DAYS OF ANXIETY.. 202

XXII. CHRISTMAS IN THE GOBI213

XXII. SIN-KIANG WILL HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH US. 221

XXIV. IN HAMI AT LAST.. 230

XXV. TO URUMCHI VIA PICHANG AND TURFAN.. 243

XXVI. MARSHAL YANG, THE GOVERNOR OF SIN-KIANG.. 255

LOP-NOR, THE WANDERING LAKE.. 271

PREFACE

AGAIN in Asia after a forced interval of many years.  And this time not alone, for the task that I have set before me for this expedition, the greatest of my life, encroaches to so great an extent on the most diverse spheres of knowledge, that it was natural that for the various departments we should take along with us younger specialists.

The expedition was to work with all the equipment of modern investigation, so I developed the plan of flying over those places in the desert that were inaccessible. In this I hoped that Germany would lend assistance. I appealed to Professor Hugo Junkers, by whom I met with the most lively interest. Later the Deutsche Lufthansa declared themselves prepared to further our relations with the German flying circles. So we were accompanied by eight more Germans, all of whom were experienced in both the theoretical and practical sides of flying.

But in Urumchi we met with a serious check: the powerful governor of the province of Sin-kiang, Yang Tséng-hsin, prohibited flying over his territory. Thereupon first of all the German fliers returned home, and in June I too left for Europe, above all in order to secure further means for continuing the expedition during succeeding years, and I sought the assistance of the Swedish State.

How the Chinese scholars and students came to the expedition is told in detail in the book. Here for the present I will only say how valuable and indispensable to me their co-operation became from month to month.

* * * *

The first part of the great journey in Asia lies behind us, the march from Paotow to Urumchi across the Gobi Desert during the winter of 1927-8. Now I go on board the ship that is to take me back to my comrades, who throughout these summer months have not allowed their scientific labours to cease. New tasks call me.

I have hesitated whether, so early as this, I ought to have published anything on the journey, for, at the moment, I have no time to gather together into a book my voluminous notes recorded day by day. So I have left this entirely to my publishers, as well as the choice of illustrations from the many hundreds of photographs taken by our diligent German photographer, Paul Lieberenz, who has also taken the film of this journey: " With Sven Hedin across the Deserts of Asia."

* * * * *

I cannot conclude without paying my debt of thanks to all who have helped me to realize my long-cherished desire to return to Asia, and moreover at the head of so large an expedition.

In this, especially the Germans. Never shall I forget the chivalrous conduct and the spirit of accommodation with which I was met on the part of the Germans. This occasion seems to me like a fairy-story and a dream and will always be numbered among my dearest and most cherished memories. The co-operation with the leading figures of the Lufthansa has at all times been marked by sincere trust and the utmost cordiality.

In as short a space as possible I must also express my warm thanks to the Swedish Minister, Oskar Ewerlöf, and Baron Carl Leijonhufvud, both of whom rendered me invaluable services during my stay in Peking and, later, during my journey; to Professor J.G. Andersson, who was my untiring adviser, and, moreover, drew with full hands out of the rich store of his Chinese experiences; to the head of the Geological Survey of China, Dr. Wong, Professor Dr. A. Grabau, and the great American explorer, Roy Chapman Andrews, for the goodwill and help that they accorded me; and finally, the " Opposition" in Peking, the Chinese scholars who, from being my opponents, became my friends and co-workers.

I also express my sincere and cordial thanks to every individual member of my staff, in which every man did his duty, all friction was banished, and nothing but good fellowship held sway. With such men as my Swedes, Germans, and Chinese, one can in the course of time open up to scientific study vast territories in Central Asia. The earnest and friendly co-operation between Europeans and Chinese was a source of real joy to me, and I held it to my advantage to have come into such close contact with representatives of the greatest and, in many respects, most interesting people of the earth.

With especial thanks do I remember my good old friend Fred Löwenadler, who as long ago as 1912 placed at my disposal a very generous contribution towards my " next journey."

An expression of thanks to my servants will presumably never reach them. Most excellent services were rendered us by the three archeological collectors, Chuang, Pai, and Chin. The Chinese and Mongols who were in our service all carried out their duties faithfully, and exceptions were rare.

Finally, I remember with sadness the faithful camels that without complaining carried us and our loads across the endless spaces, so many of which are lying forever on the long, weary road across the Gobi Desert.

SVEN HEDIN.

STOCKHOLM, August 7th, 1928.

PREFACE TO THE ENGLISH EDITION

THE expedition described in this volume was transformed into a purely Swedish and Chinese undertaking in the summer of 1928, when the Swedish Government granted me a subsidy of half a million crowns for two more years of work. In the autumn of 1930 our funds were exhausted, but by the generosity of the Swedish Government I was honoured with a new grant in the spring of 1931 sufficient to ensure the continuance of our Sino-Swedish exploration until the summer of 1933.

It is my first duty to express my deep and respectful gratitude to His Majesty the King of Sweden and his Government for the interest, sympathy, and generosity shown to me and the members of my staff, both Swedes and Chinese, and the three Germans, one Dane, and one Russian who belong to our Mission.

I also regard it as an especial privilege to express my sincere gratitude to His Royal Highness the Crown Prince of Sweden, who is our Patron and Protector, and supports us in every possible way.

It would take me too far to mention all the firms, societies, and private persons that have facilitated our undertaking by generous presents, both of money and outfit. In this connection I shall only express my sincerest thanks to the British-American Tobacco Co. for their generosity in presenting us with the gigantic quantity of three hundred thousand cigarettes.

In the present volume the reader will become acquainted only with the first period of our personal experiences. If this volume arouses interest in the English-speaking world, I hope to publish a second one, which will take the reader to the actual situation in our Mission. It may even now be said, that all the scientific members of the expedition have made brilliant contributions to our knowledge of Central Asia. Never before have pilot balloons been sent up, in the very heart of Asia, to a height of 69,500 feet. Three hundred and fifty such balloons were sent up by our chief meteorologist, Dr. Waldemar Haude, who has also given instruction to a numerous staff of young Chinese students now busy as observers in the permanent meteorological stations we founded at Etsin-gol and in Chinese Turkestan.

For four years our chief geologist, Dr. Erik Norin, has explored the geology and orography of Chinese Turkestan and its surrounding mountains in a way and in a detail entirely unparalleled. At the same time he has studied the quaternary climatic changes of the Tarim basin, thus giving a definite and conclusive explanation of the desiccation of these regions. When, on February 20, 1928, I heard from natives in Turfan that the Tarim River had changed its bed and returned to its northern course in the Kum-darya, I sent Dr. Norin to make a map of the new river. This he did in the spring of 1928 and the spring of 1930, on the latter occasion accompanied by our Swedish astronomer, Dr. Nils Ambolt, who has made more careful astronomical observations than has ever before been the case in the history of these regions. Dr. Ambolt has also made very detailed observations of gravity, using the most modern Inwar-pendulums.

As Dr. Erik Norin had already made several journeys of geological survey both in Kashmir, Ladakh, and Western Himalaya and in Shan-si, he was very pleased to extend his exploration to the whole of High Asia. It is no exaggeration to say that his results are epoch-making. On the subject of the Kuruk-tagh mountains he has written a very detailed monograph. The permo-carboniferous ice age of Kuruk-tagh belongs to his important discoveries. He has also studied the quaternary ice-age and moraines in K‘un-lun, and the post-glacial sea that filled most of Eastern Turkestan, and has left very beautiful beach-lines along its shores.

Professor P. L. Yuan, our chief Chinese geologist, has been in the field with us since the spring of 1927, and has done excellent exploration work in the fields of several sciences, geology, archaeology, topography, etc. Amongst other things he has discovered, at the northern foot of the T‘ien-shan, east of Urumchi, fossil dinosaurs in great numbers, probably belonging to a species hitherto unknown. At the present moment Prof. Yuan is on his way to Peking through the Gobi Desert bringing with him all his own and Dr. Norin’s collections and completing his work as he proceeds.

In the same way the young Chinese scholars, the archaeologist, Hwang Wen-pi, and the paleontologist, Ting Tao Heng, have contributed most effectively to our results. For example, Mr. Hwang has made very important additional surveys of the lower part of the present Kum-darya and has found about 80 wooden slips with manuscripts from circa 80 B.C.

Our young Swedish archeologist, Folke Bergman, has collected about 50,000 implements, hammers, axes, arrows, etc., of neolithic type. Together with articles of the same nature collected by Prof. Yuan and Mr. Hwang, our collections from the stone age will now have reached the figure of Over 100,000 specimens.

From June, 1930, until late spring, 1931, Mr. Bergman examined and mapped the whole region of Etsin-gol with its numerous watch-towers. His first discovery of MSS. on wooden slips, to the number of some 360 pieces, was made at Borotsonch, east of lower Etsin-gol. When he returned to Peking at the end of May 1931, his collection of MSS. on wooden slips had increased to more than 10,000 pieces, all dating from at least 86 to 31 B.C., a few even earlier. This enormous collection will be carefully deciphered, translated, and published, by Professor Bernhard Karlgren, of Gothenburg, and Professors Liu Fu and Ma Heng of Peking. Within the walls of Khara-khoto, Mr. Bergman also discovered heaps of MSS. on paper, in six different languages, Uigur, Chinese, Mongolian, Hsi-hsia, Iranian, and a language probably hitherto unknown.

Our Swedish paleontologist, Dr. Birger Bohlin, well known for his work upon Sinanthropus pekinensis, has made many very important discoveries of fossil animals, the most interesting being perhaps fishes and insects of the carboniferous age which had been astonishingly well preserved through some hundred million years. This spring he has discovered, some days’ journey to the west of Suchow, masses of paleolithic implements, together with fossil animals from the Late Tertiary or Early Quaternaty period.

Our young Swedish paleontologist, Gerhard Bexell, has made a collection of many thousands of fossil plants in the Gobi Desert and in the Nan-shan Mountains. He has, like some other members of our party, suffered a good deal from bandits. On June 6th, 1931, he was plundered and robbed of everything he possessed, but continued his work as if nothing had happened, and we have been able, by the kind assistance of the Chinese, to send him a new outfit, instruments, arms, and money.

The surgeon of our Mission is Dr. David Hummel, who, besides carrying on his medical work, has made very large and valuable collections of plants, reptiles, fishes, and insects. He has also carried out several hundred anthropometrical measurements, a kind of work for which he was prepared by Dr. Paul Stevenson of the P.U.M.C. in Peking. During 1930, Dr. Hummel made a very fine journey through Szechuan and Kansu to Choni and Tebbu on the N.E. borderland of Tibet. He was accompanied by a young German, Mr. M. Bokenkamp, and by three Chinese students, who were of great assistance to him. During the earlier stages of our expedition, Mr. Georg Söderbom and Lieutenant Henning Haslund acted as his assistants. Except for this, these two gentlemen have had more to do with the commissariat and the large caravans of the different groups of the Mission.

Dr. Nils Horner, one of our geologists, joined the expedition during the summer of 1929. He has done excellent work in Lang-shan, along the old beds of the Hwang-ho, in the Gobi Desert, along the Etsin-gol, in Nan-shan, and along the desert road to Lop-nor. His work is related to that of Dr. Norin and Dr. Bohlin, and he is accompanied by the young Chinese geodesist, Parker C. Chen, who has done brilliant work during very hard campaigns in the heart of the continent.

Professor Hsü Ping-chang is the leader and chief of the Chinese contingent of the Mission. During our different journeys he has studied the history and ethnology of the regions through which we have passed. He has always helped me and the other members of the expedition with the greatest generosity in dealing with questions of historical interest. This assistance was facilitated by the fact that Mr. Hwang brought with him from Peking some three camel-loads of ancient Chinese books.

A year ago Professor Hsü published in Peking an excellent volume describing the first year of our expedition. It ought to be translated into European languages, not only on account of its value, but also because it gives a very clear idea of what an unusually able and learned Chinese scholar thinks of collaboration with European scholars.

Georg Söderbom, born in Kwei-hwa the son of a Swedish missionary, has served the expedition from the very beginning. He has been meteorological observer at our Etsin-gol station. He has been assistant to Dr. Hummel and brought us with motor-car through the deserts. He has also collected plants, reptiles, and birds, and been useful in every way.

The very able and experienced Dane, Mr. Friis-Johansen, has on different occasions accompanied Dr. Bohlin or Mr. Bexell, and taken splendid care of our camels.

Not belonging to the expedition but still in my service, is Dr. Gosta Montell, the chief of the ethnographical department. He has made very large ethnographical collections and supervised the building of a replica of the Golden Pavilion of the Temple of Potala in Jehol which, by the generosity of Mr. Vincent Bendix, is to be erected in Chicago next year. Another temple, in Tibetan style, is to be built in Stockholm. All the furnishings of both temples, as well as large collections of ethnographical objects, have been gathered most conscientiously by Dr. Montell, who has also made several journeys in Mongolia, the Gobi, and North China. Mr. Georg Söderbom is now acting as his assistant.

In close relation with us is the famous sinologue and Keeper of the Far-Eastern collections of the Museum für Volkerkunde in Berlin, Professor Ferdinand Lessing, who, since July, 1930, has been living in the "‘ Swedish House" in Peking, and takes part more especially in Dr. Montell’s work. To us it is a great privilege to be so closely associated with Professor Lessing. Professor Lessing will be the author of several of the books on Lamaism and temple architecture we are going to publish.

There are certainly many other members of our expedition whom I have not yet mentioned; for example, all our faithful Chinese and Mongolian servants, and some assistants, such as the young Russian, Vorotnikoff, who is always with Dr. Ambolt; the Anglo-Russian, Dr. W. Etches, who is looking after our interests in Urumchi during out absence; and several young Chinese who are joining different groups of the expedition.

I should like to say a word of most hearty thanks to our Chinese collaborators, both in our Committee in Peking and in the field. Without their assistance and generosity our expedition would have been impossible. To all of us it has been most agreeable to collaborate with these distinguished Chinese scholars, all of whom are now our friends and comrades. I have never been able to understand the complaints of Europeans against the Chinese. In most cases I think the misunderstandings and differences are due much less to the Chinese than to the Europeans.

As far as our expedition is concerned, it is an agreeable duty for me to express my deep gratitude to the National Government of China for its great generosity to us, as well as to all the Chinese members of the expedition. If, by any chance, our Swedish collaboration with the Chinese should prove to be of any use in the promotion of science in China, we shall all be very happy indeed.

SVEN HEDIN.

STOCKHOLM, July 14th, 1931.

I. AWAY AT LAST

A STRANGE time lay behind me, a period of ferment and transition in the history of China. I had watched attentively from a distance the tumult in Hankow, Shanghai, and Nanking. From my quiet peaceful room in the Legation Quarter of Peking I had followed day by day the shifting scenes in the confused chaos of wats and disputes between the various generals. I had myself been in the middle of a small storm-centre whose attack was directed against my expedition and threatened to frustrate my plans.

At last, my last day in Peking had come. I had now only a single member of my staff left with me, the doctor of the expedition, Dr. David Hummel. I do not know which of the two of us on the 8th of May had most to do. We packed, and I went round and left my card at the Legations, English, American, and German, Danish, and Norwegian, that during the course of the winter and spring had shown me such great hospitality. I took my leave of Dr. V. K. Ting, Dr. W. H. Wong, and Dr. Grabau, the last of whom had promised to look after my interests in Peking during my absence, and finally I spent one pleasant hour more with the famous explorer of Mongolia, Roy Chapman Andrews, who had rendered me valuable services, not least in having sold me sixty-five well-tried camels that he was no longer using: he had decided, on account of the uncertain position, not to undertake during the coming summer a journey of discovery into Mongolia.

The last evening Dr. Hummel and I spent with the Swedish Minister, Oskar Ewerlöf. With energy, understanding, and tact, he had assisted me from the beginning in procuring, when it was necessary, the permission of the Chinese Government to undertake a great expedition in this time of unrest, and during the last weeks he had with the same skill and attachment helped me to pilot our undertaking past a number of dangerous hidden rocks that threatened to wreck us. But now we were victorious, were celebrating the evening with sparkling champagne, and were emptying our glasses to the health of the expedition and all those taking part in it.

The hour of deliverance draws near. On the morning of the 9th of May our luggage is placed down on the pavement in front of the Hôtel des Wagons-Lits; it is to be loaded on the motorcar that is coming from the bank and is bringing us a considerable part of our traveling-chest in silver. The car is late. The train leaves at 11.50. Thus, we have only another three-quarters of an hour. The car drives up, and the luggage is placed on top. It is too heavy. A spring breaks. Other cars are sent for by telephone. I rush on in advance to the station by the Hsi Chih Mén, the north-west city gate of Peking. Here there is a crowd of Chinese: the five scholars and five students who are to take part in our peaceful campaign across Asia, most of the professors of the National University, and various members of the Board of Directors, the committee appointed to be our advocate and official protector during our journey of investigation.

An exciting half hour follows. The train runs in, and the carriage that has been placed at our disposal fills with our Chinese and their luggage. The stationmaster explains that he can only wait another ten minutes. It is already half past twelve, and the silver, our traveling-chest, is not here yet. I cannot hand over responsibility for all this money to Hummel alone: I must remain here and let the train go off. But this idea I regard very reluctantly. The Peking newspapers would then say that at the last moment insurmountable obstacles had been placed in my way. Some of my friends promise me that they will act as surety for the sending on of the silver. So I am inclined to go off without the luggage.

A cloud of dust whirls across the open square in front of the station and three or four cars rush up. "Hummel!" shouts the Swedish Minister. It is really our cars with the silver and the luggage. The splendid doctor has saved the situation. A crowd of coolies lend a hand and drag the heavy boxes into our carriage. When all is ready, we bid farewell to Ewerlöf and our other friends, and the train begins to move. " Blessed be this hour," is my thought, "now begins the journey across the expanse of Asia."

Peking fades away behind us. The mountains that earlier seemed to form a dull, greyish-blue background to the stage stand out in more distinct colours. On both sides of the railway line there stretches away the wide alluvial plain with villages, huts, and grey walls, fields becoming green, arable land divided into plots of brownish grey, shady woods of poplars and willows. At the Nankow Pass there opens a natural portal that leads away into the mountain range. To the right the road runs off to the hallowed ground of the Ming Tombs, where the Emperor Yung Lo has been slumbering for five hundred years under his awe-inspiring tumulus.

Suddenly a dust-storm sweeps over the valley and wraps the whole surroundings in a thick haze. The old Wall that winds away over the mountains is lost to sight, and in our carriage everything becomes covered with yellow dust. But that does not spoil our holiday mood. All, not least the Chinese, are pleased to get away. What does it matter that the goods-van that the authorities have placed at our disposal is a former cattle-truck, in the middle of which and along whose sides narrow benches have been fixed, and in whose walls rectangular openings have been cut? Never has a first-class sleeping-carriage in Europe or America appeared more attractive to me than this dirty, dusty hovel. Hummel and I have established ourselves in the front part, where we make our tea and have our breakfast. Our immediate neighbours are the three archeological collectors who are soon to show their skill in hunting out prehistoric settlements.

In another group sits Professor Hsü Ping-chang engaged in conversation with two of his colleagues, whilst the students open their traveling-bags and take out their provisions, and the young photographer Kung makes the vain attempt to transfix on his plate a suitable stretch of the ramifications of the Great Wall in the narrow Nankow valley.

Not far away from us sits a man with strongly marked European features, in Western dress. His name is Li and he is a professor of geology. He has for that reason asked to be allowed to travel to Paotow in our special carriage with five of his students, and we are very pleased to have him with us: for he is amiable and good company and explains to his students and to us the geological formation of the valley. Hsü, the director of the Chinese staff of the expedition, and Li are welcome guests at our breakfast and dinner table.

We travel through places that I had passed through before, and the next day we arrive at Kuei-hua-chéng, the capital of the district of Sui-yüan, where we stop for twenty minutes and have the pleasure of meeting Dr. Erik Norin, our geologist, who is here purchasing Chinese provisions for our Chinese. Then on again, and hour after hour goes by. The plain stretches, uniform and dreary, to the south, where the Yellow River, the mighty Hwang Ho, gleams in two curves. Blossoming orchards lend colour and grace to the grey villages. In the north the low hills of the Yin-shan stretch away to the west as far as the eye can reach. Through the openings of the windows the sun sends in its warm rays to us. The Chinese are asleep, are smoking, or are drinking the tea that with them never ends, and we, two Swedes among seventeen sons of the Middle Kingdom, are discussing the vague unknown future and our great plans.

The sun goes down. In the distance Paotow emerges, the terminus of the most northerly of China’s railways if one does not take the Manchurian railway into account. At 7.30 the train stops. At the station eight members of my German staff are awaiting us, among them Major Hempel, whom I have nominated as chief of staff, and Dr. Haude, who has charge of the meteorological observations and the wireless receiving-apparatus; there is also out Swedish archeologist, Folke Bergman, and the interpreter, H. Ssu, who is married to a German and speaks fluently the mother tongue of his wife. Two policemen are wanting to see our papers. Hummel and some of the other principals escort the bullock-wagons that are taking our treasure in silver to our farmstead that has been rented since the past winter. The rest mount our beautiful great camels and ride on to the city in advance. In just a quarter of an hour we reach the south gate of the city, and then, inside the city wall, have to go just as far again to reach our farm. It is twilight, and, here and there, the stalls of the traders in the market-streets are lighting up their lamps. The dusty streets are still full of life and are crowded with soldiers of the garrison that Yen Hsi-shan, the governor of the province of Shansi, has quartered in the city. Trumpets blare out; the whole place is full of soldiers. In the gateway of our farmstead stands Larson, straddle-legged and in a commanding attitude, and he welcomes me and congratulates me on my final triumph. I greet our servants, Chinese and Mongols, and under the guidance of Larson and Baron von Massenbach I make a tour of our first headquarters on the road to Central Asia. A narrow passage on the left, between the cooking department and a larger room in which our Chinese students are to live, leads to a small courtyard where Larson has set up his tent, the front pole of which flies the Swedish flag. Three rooms open on this courtyard: a smaller one set aside for me, and two larger ones to serve as clubroom and dining-room.

On a second larger courtyard are situated the rooms of all the other principals. Here are piled up hundreds of boxes of provisions and stores, forming small hills. It was nothing to get this enormous baggage to Paotow in two goods-trucks, but it staggers one when one remembers that these forty tons have to be carried by camels across the belt of desert and day by day loaded and unloaded.

Crossing over a small hill we reach the third courtyard where the camels we have so far bought are sheltered and are given their fodder. Between these two courtyards Dr. Haude has his meteorological observatory with all the delicate instruments that respond to the moods of the weather and of the winds.

While we are still making our tour of inspection the creaking of our silver-wagons can be heard, and the oxen drag their heavy burdens into the yard.

Not till 10 o’clock does a kitchen-boy go across the yards with a hand-bell, when we assemble in the dining room for late supper. There is soup, fowl, and tice. We sit at two tables. Despite the absence of alcohol, we are in joyful mood and high spirits. To those who had waited here for Dr. Hummel and myself since the 24th of March the time had become very long.

Some of our party had not yet joined us. Norin, known for his journeys of research in China and the Western Himalayas, was, as I mentioned before, in Kueihua-chéng, whence, reinforced by Major Walz and Baron Marschall von Bieberstein, he was to convey the newly-bought Chinese provisions on sixty camels to the agreed objective near the monastery of Beli-miao in Inner Mongolia. There two other members of the expedition were also to join the main caravan: the Dane Haslund-Christensen, whom I had taken into my service in Peking and who was to act as Larson’s assistant, and our German cinematographer, Lieberenz. Both these had received instructions to proceed to the Swedish mission-station of Hallun-ussu, 160 kilometers north of Kalgan, to take over the sixty-five camels that I had bought from Andrews.

Still, at our tables we were a large enough company for all that, and Professor Li was our guest of honour. All regretted that he was not able to accompany us. Ovet coffee I rapped on my cup and made a speech, in English for the benefit of the Chinese. I spoke of the tasks that awaited us, and how singular it was that we, in the midst of the civil war and seething unrest, were on the point of setting out towards the distant provinces of China, whilst all other Europeans were leaving the country and proceeding to the coast. All my white friends in Peking had viewed the co-operation with the Chinese scholars with doubts and misgivings. We would prove that the white and yellow races can live and work together very well, and that knowledge transcends political frontiers and the prejudices of the different races. Disturbing dissensions or short-sighted nationalism I did not intend to tolerate. In my caravan all would be friends, and the Chinese would enjoy the same rights as the Europeans. The Chinese, moreover, were in their own country, at home; we, on the other hand, were guests. I expected, therefore, that every man would do his duty; for, if all members of the expedition did their best, the results that we obtained would indeed contribute to the good of mankind. Finally, I expressed a welcome to all present and the wish that we should all have a pleasant and successful journey.

Professor Hsü Ping-chang thereupon rose immediately and spoke in the same spirit on behalf of the Chinese. And then for a long time we continued sitting together.

It was long past midnight when I went to bed. I still lay awake a long time, lost in thought. Was it really true that I was at the head of the biggest scientific expedition that had ever set out for the centre of the greatest continent of the earth?

Nine days more had we to remain in Paotow, this frightful hole of 60,000 inhabitants and, for the time being, a garrison of some 30,000 men, this small city on the north bank of the Yellow River. Here I had in February 1897, long before the time of the railway, spent several days, never to be forgotten, with the pleasant missionary family Helleberg from Stockholm, who were afterwards, like so many other Swedish missionaries, murdered during the Boxer rising. Nine whole days! Still there was nothing else for us to do. Before the negotiations in Peking had been brought to a satisfactory conclusion, I was not able to give Larson the order to buy the two hundred and fifty camels that we needed. And until these were bought, we had to be content with hired camels. But the latter were pasturing on the mountain slopes at a distance of four days’ journey from Paotow and could not be at our disposal before the 18th of May. So we had again to possess our souls in patience.

We had, however, plenty to do, and so the days did not seem long to us. To the leader of a caravan of sixty men and about three hundred camels all come with their reports, requests, and complaints. Thousands upon thousands of things must be talked over and settled, so that everything may run smoothly and this moving town form an organic and harmonious entity. Nothing must be forgotten. I must check and confirm all the figures that are placed before me by Herr Mühlenweg, our paymaster, who has charge of the cash-box and the accounts. Already even now I see that we need more money. It will be demanded in Peking and must be entrusted to the missionary Svensson in Paotow. The interpreter, Ssu, is no longer required, and is replaced by Söderbom, the son of a missionary, who was born here and speaks Chinese quite as well as Swedish, and Mongolian besides.

The provisions are packed again, and in such a way that, when we encamp, in a particular box everything that one requires is found, and we are saved the trouble of opening more boxes. The members of the staff too are putting away their belongings. Major Zimmermann, who since the autumn has been my adjutant on the journey through Siberia and Manchuria, is my right hand in this, and knows exactly where to find everything.

In the large courtyard as in all the rooms of our house all are thus hard at work. Now and again small incidents provide us with a change. Thus we could once see from our roof how some twenty soldiers surrounded and searched a neighbouring house and captured and bound a thief.

From this roof we could see the Hwang Ho, which, coming from Odontala in north-eastern Tibet, flows through Kansu and the northern provinces, and in a mighty bend encircles the desert of the Ordos, in which I was once near being frozen to death.

One day all work in the courtyard was stopped by a torrential downpour that quickly turned to hail. Even the camels that were in the open were frightened. The hailstones were as large as hazelnuts, half conical and half hemispherical. It became as cold as ice, after the temperature of 28 degrees we had previously had. When the rough weather was over and all lay white in the courtyard, a few of the younger members of the expedition amused themselves with throwing snowballs, and chose as target for their shooting practice the windows of their companions, which were made of paper pasted over wooden frames. From inside the rooms came forth wild shouts of anger and rage and aroused the greatest joy on the part of those who were throwing and of the onlookers. Still it was our house, and what did it matter that a few paper window-panes were broken? We wanted very soon to leave the farm behind us, which for most of us had for so long a time been a prison. No-one would miss it, and still less the swarms of bloodthirsty bugs that it harboured.

Our courtyard, packed full with boxes, sacks, water containers, tent-baggage, and other articles, was too small for it to have been possible for us to load hundreds of camels there. We therefore hired an inn in front of the north-west city gate and on the 16th of May began to transfer there the four hundred and more packing-cases and all the rest of the equipment. On the 18th of May the two hundred and twenty camels arrived, whose hire cost us 1,650 dollars, and the same day the last conveyances left for the caravanserai, last of all the heavy silver-chests. Accompanied by our doctor I paid my farewell visit to the family of the missionary Svensson, who had been ever friendly and ready to lend assistance, and at dusk went to the caravanserai in whose courtyard our tents were erected for the night. In an adjoining courtyard our two hundred and thirty-two camels were sheltered.

The next day under the burning sun double ropes are tied round all the loads. Then one has only to slip a stick through two loops, to secure the boxes on the packsaddles. The courtyard is filled with life, excited and varied. Policemen in black uniforms, foot-soldiers in greyish-blue uniforms, and boys in rags, stroll about there among our Chinese and Mongolian servants and caravan men. The " paymaster," Herr Mühlenweg, makes the last payments, the principals of the staff write postcards to their relatives, tents are struck and like the sleeping-bags are rolled together into longish bundles, the camels are led to water. It is our intention to set out as soon as the heat of the day has lessened. At 3 o’clock the bell rings that calls us to our meal. Scrambled eggs, pork, butter, bread, and tea are served on the boxes. We sit at our meal in various groups, and, at my "table," behave as if we sat on the Opera Terrace in Stockholm. A strong north-west wind is blowing, and the dust whirls round us. Then we seek the little shade that is to be found, resign ourselves to doing nothing, and wait, and finally find ourselves forced to remain yet another night here.

When I was awakened by Larson at 5 o’clock in the morning on the 20th of May, and walked out into the open, a wonderful animated scene presented itself before me. The sun had just risen. The camels were led in strings of five or ten to the long lines of packs, were easily and quickly loaded, and were then taken to the open space to the east of the caravanserai where the caravan was growing into a mighty army. One camel, which was carrying the instrumental equipment for one of the permanent stations that we intended to set up in Central Asia, threw off its precious load in the gateway of the inn, but fortunately nothing was broken. Outside are waiting also the thirty mounted foot-soldiers that the commanding officer in Paotow has appointed as our escort. They are wearing red-white bands on the left arm, are armed with rifles, and are riding small shaggy ponies. This special service is a pleasant and welcome change for them, and their jokes and laughter and their songs tell us that they are in the best humour.

The loading of the camels goes on without any break. One string after another is led out. Most of the animals are brown, but one or two are black. Just now they are on the point of losing their wool. It hangs on them in matted strands and tufts from head, sides, neck, and legs, and forms streamers in the wind. This spring dress is certainly not becoming. But that soon improves when the warm weather sets in and the camels have completely lost their winter coats.

Now the riding-camels of the Swedes and Germans are coming out in long procession. Rifle-case, field-glasses and photographic apparatus in leather cases, saddle-bags of yellow leather containing hot-water bottles, light refreshments, note-books, pistols, and ammunition, as well as other things, make a clatter as they strike against the American and Mexican leather saddles, which are substantial and are splendid with their bright reflection.

I walk about between the growing columns. Now everything is all right, I think, and I return to the caravanserai, where I still find quite a number of boxes. Black pigs with hanging belly are roaming about between them, and are rooting up the ground, and the innkeeper’s wife is hobbling round, surrounded by a crowd of shrieking, half-naked children, and is collecting camel-dung in a basket. The eight heavy silver-chests are just loaded on four strong camels, and then finally the thirty-eight hydrogen-cylinders come up, which require fifteen camels and are well packed in felt and straw matting, that they may not explode in the heat.

We can scarcely speak of one caravan. It is a whole series of caravans of five or ten camels stretched side by side. During all the years that I have spent in Asia I have seen innumerable caravans: my own, those of merchants from Arabia and Mesopotamia, going to Kansu and Mongolia, of pilgrims visiting the holy tombs, of the Shah of Persia in Elburz, and in the Great War the Turkish and Bavarian dromedary caravans between the hills of Judea and the Desert of Sinai. But, nevertheless, the caravan of mine seems to me the proudest that my eyes have ever gazed upon. It is a magnificent sight, an army on the march, full of colour, stout, and mighty. The sun has meanwhile risen above the mountains and lends colour to the picture, but the shadows are still long and ill-defined on the ground, which is tinged with green.

Larson reports that the courtyard is empty and all the camels with their loads are outside on the plain. Everything is ready, we mount, and the caravan begins to move. Our learned Chinese do not use saddles, but seat themselves on their packs as on a throne. I myself, who am constantly busy with compass, watch, drawing-board, and notebook, as before have had my riding-camel tackled for me in a particularly snug and comfortable way. It carries on its sides my rolled-up tent and my bedding. Between these and the humps rugs, cloths, and skins are spread out, and I sit in the small hollow as in a bird’s nest and can vary my position and stretch my legs at will. And in order that I may not be in the slightest degree interrupted in my work by the gait of my camel, I have it led by the Mongol Mento, a trustworthy man who is riding a huge camel himself.

The bodyguard of thirty riders whirls round us in a cloud of dust. With noiseless, crawling steps the camels in endless procession march slowly away up towards the first pass entering upon the northern hills. The foremost camel of the first section carries a Swedish flag. Behind us we lose sight of Paotow, the second of our cities of delay and trial.

My dream of many years has at last become a reality. We are on the way to Central Asia, to the zone of desert that extends across the whole of the Old World like an enormous dried-up riverbed. We are on the road to great tasks and mysterious adventures.