For a long time I bargained with him and at last for my gold wedding ring, a raincoat and a leather saddle bag I received a fine Soyot horse—­to replace one of the pack animals we had lost—­and a young goat.  We spent the night here and were feasted with fat mutton.  In the morning we moved off under the guidance of the old Soyot along the trail that followed the valley of the Oyna, free from both mountains and swamps.  But we knew that the mounts of my friend and myself, together with three others, were too worn down to make Kosogol and determined to try to buy others in Soldjak.  Soon we began to meet little groups of Soyot yurtas with their cattle and horses round about.  Finally we approached the shifting capital of the Prince.  Our guide rode on ahead for the parley with him after assuring us that the Prince would be glad to welcome the Ta Lama, though at the time I remarked great anxiety and fear in his features as he spoke.  Before long we emerged on to a large plain well covered with small bushes.  Down by the shore of the river we made out big yurtas with yellow and blue flags floating over them and easily guessed that this was the seat of government.  Soon our guide returned to us.  His face was wreathed with smiles.  He flourished his hands and cried: 

“Noyon (the Prince) asks you to come!  He is very glad!”

From a warrior I was forced to change myself into a diplomat.  As we approached the yurta of the Prince, we were met by two officials, wearing the peaked Mongol caps with peacock feathers rampants behind.  With low obeisances they begged the foreign “Noyon” to enter the yurta.  My friend the Tartar and I entered.  In the rich yurta draped with expensive silk we discovered a feeble, wizen-faced little old man with shaven face and cropped hair, wearing also a high pointed beaver cap with red silk apex topped off with a dark red button with the long peacock feathers streaming out behind.  On his nose were big Chinese spectacles.  He was sitting on a low divan, nervously clicking the beads of his rosary.  This was Ta Lama, Prince of Soldjak and High Priest of the Buddhist Temple.  He welcomed us very cordially and invited us to sit down before the fire burning in the copper brazier.  His surprisingly beautiful Princess served us with tea and Chinese confections and cakes.  We smoked our pipes, though the Prince as a Lama did not indulge, fulfilling, however, his duty as a host by raising to his lips the pipes we offered him and handing us in return the green nephrite bottle of snuff.  Thus with the etiquette accomplished we awaited the words of the Prince.  He inquired whether our travels had been felicitous and what were our further plans.  I talked with him quite frankly and requested his hospitality for the rest of our company and for the horses.  He agreed immediately and ordered four yurtas set up for us.

“I hear that the foreign Noyon,” the Prince said, “is a good doctor.”

“Yes, I know some diseases and have with me some medicines,” I answered, “but I am not a doctor.  I am a scientist in other branches.”