“I shall take for my share these two,” whispered my friend, pointing to the left outpost.

The rest of us were to take care of the second post.  I crept along through the bushes behind my friend in order to help him in case of need; but I am bound to admit that I was not at all worried about him.  He was about seven feet tall and so strong that, when a horse used to refuse sometimes to take the bit, he would wrap his arm around its neck, kick its forefeet out from under it and throw it so that he could easily bridle it on the ground.  When only a hundred paces remained, I stood behind the bushes and watched.  I could see very distinctly the fire and the dozing sentinel.  He sat with his rifle on his knees.  His companion, asleep beside him, did not move.  Their white felt boots were plainly visible to me.  For a long time I did not remark my friend.  At the fire all was quiet.  Suddenly from the other outpost floated over a few dim shouts and all was still.  Our sentinel slowly raised his head.  But just at this moment the huge body of my friend rose up and blanketed the fire from me and in a twinkling the feet of the sentinel flashed through the air, as my companion had seized him by the throat and swung him clear into the bushes, where both figures disappeared.  In a second he re-appeared, flourished the rifle of the Partisan over his head and I heard the dull blow which was followed by an absolute calm.  He came back toward me and, confusedly smiling, said: 

“It is done.  God and the Devil!  When I was a boy, my mother wanted to make a priest out of me.  When I grew up, I became a trained agronome in order . . . to strangle the people and smash their skulls.  Revolution is a very stupid thing!”

And with anger and disgust he spit and began to smoke his pipe.

At the other outpost also all was finished.  During this night we reached the top of the Tannu Ola and descended again into a valley covered with dense bushes and twined with a whole network of small rivers and streams.  It was the headwaters of the Buret Hei.  About one o’clock we stopped and began to feed our horses, as the grass just there was very good.  Here we thought ourselves in safety.  We saw many calming indications.  On the mountains were seen the grazing herds of reindeers and yaks and approaching Soyots confirmed our supposition.  Here behind the Tannu Ola the Soyots had not seen the Red soldiers.  We presented to these Soyots a brick of tea and saw them depart happy and sure that we were “Tzagan,” a “good people.”

While our horses rested and grazed on the well-preserved grass, we sat by the fire and deliberated upon our further progress.  There developed a sharp controversy between two sections of our company, one led by a Colonel who with four officers were so impressed by the absence of Reds south of the Tannu Ola that they determined to work westward to Kobdo and then on to the camp on the Emil River where the Chinese authorities