Near the edge of this plain we began to encounter a few sand dunes with outcrops, very similar to those on the coast line of our own country.  Over these we gently ran day after day until we could see vast fields of sand and scrub that it must have taken thousands of years of gale and hurricane to deposit in the quaint pyramidal fashion in which they stand to-day.  Even yet they are not fixed; occasionally a tree falls exposing the naked sand to the action of the wind, which swirls around the hole and moves the sand into a spiral whirlpool, lifting and carrying it away to be deposited again on the lea side of a distant valley, choking the pines and silver birch and sometimes destroying large woods and forests.  It is surprising that though we travelled for hundreds of miles along the edge of this huge sand plateau we did not see a single rivulet or stream coming from its direction, though there were the traces of a river far out on the plain.  Sunset on these sand-hills was quite entrancing.  The occasional break in these conical formations, when the sun was low down, gave one the impression of a vast collection of human habitations, with gable ends to the highest of the buildings.  The fact is, however, that, so far as we saw or could make out, no human habitation exists over the whole face of this sea of sand, though men live quite calmly around the craters of volcanoes and other equally dangerous and impossible places.  The fear created by legends of human disaster attaching to the local history of these sands is of such a character that even the daring of the Tartar is for once mastered.  The sands themselves when on the move are dangerous enough, but their cup-like formation would hide armies until the traveller was in their midst, when retreat would be impossible.  The same applies with greater force to the banditti or beasts of the desert; hence the gloomy history and legends of the Mongolian sands.

We arrived at Hazelar on a Saturday evening, and collected our echelons during the night.  On Sunday morning I made application to the priest for permission to hold our parade service in the grounds of the Greek church.  This was granted, and the parade was a huge success.  The spectacle of the padre (Captain Roberts) in his surplice conducting the English service under the shadow of the church our help had rescued from the violence of the Terrorists was very impressive.  The service was watched with intense interest by hundreds of Russian men and women and by crowds of Chinese, Korean and Tartar plainsmen.  Some of the Russian ladies joined in the responses, and many women’s voices joined in the old English hymns.  These were the first religious services that had been held for a year, and seemed to give assurance to the people that their troubles were nearly over, that peace had come again.  The huge padlock and chain upon the church door had been removed, and general thankfulness seemed to be the predominant feeling.  The scene