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ADVENTURES IN NORTHERN TIBET. 243
regions with a bacchanal of the elements. To ride under
such circumstances is torture. It is useless to fight against
the cold ;
you can hardly keep your vital powers awake,
but grow benumbed and drowsy, your limbs stiffen in the
positions they have assumed in the saddle, and it requires
a deliberate effort to dismount and put your feet to the
ground.
The last night of the year set in stinging cold, but bright,
the moon glittering with electric brilliance in the frosty
sky. I read the Bible texts and Psalms which are sung on
the last night of the year in every church in Sweden. And
though there were no church bells to ring out the old and
ring in the new, the tempestuous wind, which knows
nothing of the waxing and waning of the centuries, lent the
torrent "of its organ notes to celebrate appropriately the
dawn of a new era.
On the ist January, 1901, the inexhaustible cascades of
air still continued to pour with undiminished strength
down the glens and gorges of the Astyn-tagh. Upon
reaching the top of a low pass, we saw before us the gigantic
snow-clad mountain mass of the Anambaruin-ula. The
circuit round this mountain-knot, for the purpose of visiting
the Sartang Mongols on the other side of it, meant a detour
of nearly 190 miles. I will pass over the details of the
journey. It must suffice to say that the cold was intense,
the thermometer dropping to 26^° below zero ; that we
had a friendly reception from the Mongols ; that we rode
right round the mountain, admiring its magnificent scenery,
and especially its stupendous valley portals, of which Jong-
duntsa is the finest ; and that we returned safely to the
point from which we had started, namely, the brook of
Anambaruin-gol.
Now, however, I had to make an important decision.
It was my intention from that point to cross the Desert of
Gobi or Sha-mo northwards ; and as we might reasonably
i6*
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