And so we talked the members of the “Cheka” round to everything that we wanted.  We presented to them a bright scheme for the future development of their district, when we would build the roads and bridges which would allow them to export the wood from Urianhai, iron and gold from the Sayan Mountains, cattle and furs from Mongolia.  What a triumph of creative work for the Soviet Government!  Our ode occupied about an hour and afterwards the members of the “Cheka,” forgetting about our documents, personally changed our horses, placed our luggage on the wagon and wished us success.  It was the last ordeal within the borders of Russia.

When we had crossed the valley of the river Amyl, Happiness smiled on us.  Near the ferry we met a member of the militia from Karatuz.  He had on his wagon several rifles and automatic pistols, mostly Mausers, for outfitting an expedition through Urianhai in quest of some Cossack officers who had been greatly troubling the Bolsheviki.  We stood upon our guard.  We could very easily have met this expedition and we were not quite assured that the soldiers would be so appreciative of our high-sounding phrases as were the members of the “Cheka.”  Carefully questioning the militiaman, we ferreted out the route their expedition was to take.  In the next village we stayed in the same house with him.  I had to open my luggage and suddenly I noticed his admiring glance fixed upon my bag.

“What pleases you so much?” I asked.

He whispered:  “Trousers . . .  Trousers.”

I had received from my townsmen quite new trousers of black thick cloth for riding.  Those trousers attracted the rapt attention of the militiaman.

“If you have no other trousers. . . .”  I remarked, reflecting upon my plan of attack against my new friend.

“No,” he explained with sadness, “the Soviet does not furnish trousers.  They tell me they also go without trousers.  And my trousers are absolutely worn out.  Look at them.”

With these words he threw back the corner of his overcoat and I was astonished how he could keep himself inside these trousers, for they had such large holes that they were more of a net than trousers, a net through which a small shark could have slipped.

“Sell me,” he whispered, with a question in his voice.

“I cannot, for I need them myself,” I answered decisively.

He reflected for a few minutes and afterward, approaching me, said:  “Let us go out doors and talk.  Here it is inconvenient.”

We went outside.  “Now, what about it?” he began.  “You are going into Urianhai.  There the Soviet bank-notes have no value and you will not be able to buy anything, where there are plenty of sables, fox-skins, ermine and gold dust to be purchased, which they very willingly exchange for rifles and cartridges.  You have each of you a rifle and I will give you one more rifle with a hundred cartridges if you give me the trousers.”