at last before our eyes the abode of the living buddha! at thefoot of bogdo-ol behind white walls rose a white tibetan buildingcovered with greenish-blue tiles that glittered under the sunshine.
it was richly set among groves of trees dotted here and there withthe fantastic roofs of shrines and small palaces, while furtherfrom the mountain it was connected by a long wooden bridge acrossthe tola with the city of monks, sacred and revered throughout allthe east as ta kure or urga. here besides the living buddha livewhole throngs of secondary miracle workers, prophets, sorcerers andwonderful doctors. all these people have divine origin and arehonored as living gods. at the left on the high plateau stands anold monastery with a huge, dark red tower, which is known as the"temple lamas city," containing a gigantic bronze gilded statue ofbuddha sitting on the golden flower of the lotus; tens of smallertemples, shrines, obo, open altars, towers for astrology and thegrey city of the lamas consisting of single-storied houses andyurtas, where about 60,000 monks of all ages and ranks dwell;schools, sacred archives and libraries, the houses of bandi and theinns for the honored guests from china, tibet, and the lands of theburiat and kalmuck.
down below the monastery is the foreign settlement where therussian, foreign and richest chinese merchants live and where themulti-colored and crowded oriental bazaar carries forward itsbustling life. a kilometre away the greyish enclosure of maimachensurrounds the remaining chinese trading establishments, whilefarther on one sees a long row of russian private houses, ahospital, church, prison and, last of all, the awkward four-storiedred brick building that was formerly the russian consulate.
we were already within a short distance of the monastery, when inoticed several mongol soldiers in the mouth of a ravine nearby,dragging back and concealing in the ravine three dead bodies.
"what are they doing?" i asked.
the cossacks only smiled without answering. suddenly theystraightened up with a sharp salute. out of the ravine came asmall, stocky mongolian pony with a short man in the saddle. as hepassed us, i noticed the epaulets of a colonel and the green capwith a visor. he examined me with cold, colorless eyes from underdense brows. as he went on ahead, he took off his cap and wipedthe perspiration from his bald head. my eyes were struck by thestrange undulating line of his skull. it was the man "with thehead like a saddle," against whom i had been warned by the oldfortune teller at the last ourton outside van kure!
"who is this officer?" i inquired.
although he was already quite a distance in front of us, thecossacks whispered: "colonel sepailoff, commandant of urga city."colonel sepailoff, the darkest person on the canvas of mongolianevents! formerly a mechanician, afterwards a gendarme, he hadgained quick promotion under the czar's regime. he was alwaysnervously jerking and wriggling his body and talking ceaselessly,making most unattractive sounds in his throat and sputtering withsaliva all over his lips, his whole face often contracted withspasms. he was mad and baron ungern twice appointed a commissionof surgeons to examine him and ordered him to rest in the hope hecould rid the man of his evil genius. undoubtedly sepailoff was asadist. i heard afterwards that he himself executed the condemnedpeople, joking and singing as he did his work. dark, terrifyingtales were current about him in urga. he was a bloodhound,fastening his victims with the jaws of death. all the glory of thecruelty of baron ungern belonged to sepailoff. afterwards baronungern once told me in urga that this sepailoff annoyed him andthat sepailoff could kill him just as well as others. baron ungernfeared sepailoff, not as a man, but dominated by his ownsuperstition, because sepailoff had found in transbaikalia a witchdoctor who predicted the death of the baron if he dismissedsepailoff. sepailoff knew no pardon for bolshevik nor for any oneconnected with the bolsheviki in any way. the reason for hisvengeful spirit was that the bolsheviki had tortured him in prisonand, after his escape, had killed all his family. he was nowtaking his revenge.
i put up with a russian firm and was at once visited by myassociates from uliassutai, who greeted me with great joy becausethey had been much exercised about the events in van kure and zainshabi. when i had bathed and spruced up, i went out with them onthe street. we entered the bazaar. the whole market was crowded.
to the lively colored groups of men buying, selling and shoutingtheir wares, the bright streamers of chinese cloth, the strings ofpearls, the earrings and bracelets gave an air of endlessfestivity; while on another side buyers were feeling of live sheepto see whether they were fat or not, the butcher was cutting greatpieces of mutton from the hanging carcasses and everywhere thesesons of the plain were joking and jesting. the mongolian women intheir huge coiffures and heavy silver caps like saucers on theirheads were admiring the variegated silk ribbons and long chains ofcoral beads; an imposing big mongol attentively examined a smallherd of splendid horses and bargained with the mongol zahachine orowner of the horses; a skinny, quick, black tibetan, who had cometo urga to pray to the living buddha or, maybe, with a secretmessage from the other "god" in lhasa, squatted and bargained foran image of the lotus buddha carved in agate; in another corner abig crowd of mongols and buriats had collected and surrounded achinese merchant selling finely painted snuff-bottles of glass,crystal, porcelain, amethyst, jade, agate and nephrite, for one ofwhich made of a greenish milky nephrite with regular brown veinsrunning through it and carved with a dragon winding itself around abevy of young damsels the merchant was demanding of his mongolinquirers ten young oxen; and everywhere buriats in their long redcoats and small red caps embroidered with gold helped the tartarsin black overcoats and black velvet caps on the back of their headsto weave the pattern of this oriental human tapestry. lamas formedthe common background for it all, as they wandered about in theiryellow and red robes, with capes picturesquely thrown over theirshoulders and caps of many forms, some like yellow mushrooms,others like the red phrygian bonnets or old greek helmets in red.
they mingled with the crowd, chatting serenely and counting theirrosaries, telling fortunes for those who would hear but chieflysearching out the rich mongols whom they could cure or exploit byfortune telling, predictions or other mysteries of a city of 60,000lamas. simultaneously religious and political espionage was beingcarried out. just at this time many mongols were arriving frominner mongolia and they were continuously surrounded by aninvisible but numerous network of watching lamas. over thebuildings around floated the russian, chinese and mongoliannational flags with a single one of the stars and stripes above asmall shop in the market; while over the nearby tents and yurtasstreamed the ribbons, the squares, the circles and triangles of theprinces and private persons afflicted or dying from smallpox andleprosy. all were mingled and mixed in one bright mass stronglylighted by the sun. occasionally one saw the soldiers of baronungern rushing about in long blue coats; mongols and tibetans inred coats with yellow epaulets bearing the swastika of jenghiz khanand the initials of the living buddha; and chinese soldiers fromtheir detachment in the mongolian army. after the defeat of thechinese army two thousand of these braves petitioned the livingbuddha to enlist them in his legions, swearing fealty and faith tohim. they were accepted and formed into two regiments bearing theold chinese silver dragons on their caps and shoulders.
as we crossed this market, from around a corner came a big motorcar with the roar of a siren. there was baron ungern in the yellowsilk mongolian coat with a blue girdle. he was going very fast butrecognized me at once, stopping and getting out to invite me to gowith him to his yurta. the baron lived in a small, simply arrangedyurta, set up in the courtyard of a chinese hong. he had hisheadquarters in two other yurtas nearby, while his servantsoccupied one of the chinese fang-tzu. when i reminded him of hispromise to help me to reach the open ports, the general looked atme with his bright eyes and spoke in french:
"my work here is coming to an end. in nine days i shall begin thewar with the bolsheviki and shall go into the transbaikal. i begthat you will spend this time here. for many years i have livedwithout civilized society. i am alone with my thoughts and i wouldlike to have you know them, speaking with me not as the 'bloody madbaron,' as my enemies call me, nor as the 'severe grandfather,'
which my officers and soldiers call me, but as an ordinary man whohas sought much and has suffered even more."the baron reflected for some minutes and then continued:
"i have thought about the further trip of your group and i shallarrange everything for you, but i ask you to remain here these ninedays."what was i to do? i agreed. the baron shook my hand warmly andordered tea.
