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In his voice I felt there was mingled despair and sincerity。 He frankly put out his hand to me。 Again silence。 At last I answered：
〃What do you order me to do now； for I have neither counterfeit nor real documents？ But many of your officers know me and in Urga I can find many who will testify that I could be neither agitator nor。 。 。〃
〃No need； no need！〃 interrupted the Baron。 〃All is clear； all is understood！ I was in your soul and I know all。 It is the truth which Hutuktu Narabanchi has written about you。 What can I do for you？〃
I explained how my friend and I had escaped from Soviet Russia in the effort to reach our native land and how a group of Polish soldiers had joined us in the hope of getting back to Poland； and I asked that help be given us to reach the nearest port。
〃With pleasure； with pleasure。 。 。 。 I will help you all；〃 he answered excitedly。 〃I shall drive you to Urga in my motor car。 Tomorrow we shall start and there in Urga we shall talk about further arrangements。〃
Taking my leave； I went out of the yurta。 On arriving at my quarters； I found Colonel Kazagrandi in great anxiety walking up and down my room。
〃Thanks be to God！〃 he exclaimed and crossed himself。
His joy was very touching but at the same time I thought that the Colonel could have taken much more active measures for the salvation of his guest； if he had been so minded。 The agitation of this day had tired me and made me feel years older。 When I looked in the mirror I was certain there were more white hairs on my head。 At night I could not sleep for the flashing thoughts of the young； fine face of Colonel Philipoff； the pool of blood； the cold eyes of Captain Veseloffsky； the sound of Baron Ungern's voice with its tones of despair and woe； until finally I sank into a heavy stupor。 I was awakened by Baron Ungern who came to ask pardon that he could not take me in his motor car； because he was obliged to take Daichin Van with him。 But he informed me that he had left instructions to give me his own white camel and two Cossacks as servants。 I had no time to thank him before he rushed out of my room。
Sleep then entirely deserted me； so I dressed and began smoking pipe after pipe of tobacco； as I thought： 〃How much easier to fight the Bolsheviki on the swamps of Seybi and to cross the snowy peaks of Ulan Taiga； where the bad demons kill all the travelers they can！ There everything was simple and comprehensible； but here it is all a mad nightmare； a dark and foreboding storm！〃 I felt some tragedy； some horror in every movement of Baron Ungern； behind whom paced this silent； white…faced Veseloffsky and Death。
CHAPTER XXXIV
THE HORROR OF WAR！
At dawn of the following morning they led up the splendid white camel for me and we moved away。 My company consisted of the two Cossacks； two Mongol soldiers and one Lama with two pack camels carrying the tent and food。 I still apprehended that the Baron had it in mind not to dispose of me before my friends there in Van Kure but to prepare this journey for me under the guise of which it would be so easy to do away with me by the road。 A bullet in the back and all would be finished。 Consequently I was momentarily ready to draw my revolver and defend myself。 I took care all the time to have the Cossacks either ahead of me or at the side。 About noon we heard the distant honk of a motor car and soon saw Baron Ungern whizzing by us at full speed。 With him were two adjutants and Prince Daichin Van。 The Baron greeted me very kindly and shouted：
〃Shall see you again in Urga！〃
〃Ah！〃 I thought； 〃evidently I shall reach Urga。 So I can be at ease during my trip； and in Urga I have many friends beside the presence there of the bold Polish soldiers whom I had worked with in Uliassutai and who had outdistanced me in this journey。〃
After the meeting with the Baron my Cossacks became very attentive to me and sought to distract me with stories。 They told me about their very severe struggles with the Bolsheviki in Transbaikalia and Mongolia； about the battle with the Chinese near Urga； about finding communistic passports on several Chinese soldiers from Moscow； about the bravery of Baron Ungern and how he would sit at the campfire smoking and drinking tea right on the battle line without ever being touched by a bullet。 At one fight seventy…four bullets entered his overcoat； saddle and the boxes by his side and again left him untouched。 This is one of the reasons for his great influence over the Mongols。 They related how before the battle he had made a reconnaissance in Urga with only one Cossack and on his way back had killed a Chinese officer and two soldiers with his bamboo stick or tashur； how he had no outfit save one change of linen and one extra pair of boots； how he was always calm and jovial in battle and severe and morose in the rare days of peace； and how he was everywhere his soldiers were fighting。
I told them； in turn； of my escape from Siberia and with chatting thus the day slipped by very quickly。 Our camels trotted all the time； so that instead of the ordinary eighteen to twenty miles per day we made nearly fifty。 My mount was the fastest of them all。 He was a huge white animal with a splendid thick mane and had been presented to Baron Ungern by some Prince of Inner Mongolia with two black sables tied on the bridle。 He was a calm； strong； bold giant of the desert； on whose back I felt myself as though perched on the tower of a building。 Beyond the Orkhon River we came across the first dead body of a Chinese soldier； which lay face up and arms outstretched right in the middle of the road。 When we had crossed the Burgut Mountains； we entered the Tola River valley； farther up which Urga is located。 The road was strewn with the overcoats； shirts； boots； caps and kettles which the Chinese had thrown away in their flight； and marked by many of their dead。 Further on the road crossed a morass； where on either side lay great mounds of the dead bodies of men； horses and camels with broken carts and military debris of every sort。 Here the Tibetans of Baron Ungern had cut up the escaping Chinese baggage transport； and it was a strange and gloomy contrast to see the piles of dead besides the effervescing awakening life of spring。 In every pool wild ducks of different kinds floated about； in the high grass the cranes performed their weird dance of courtship； on the lakes great flocks of swans and geese were swimming； through the swampy places like spots of light moved the brilliantly colored pairs of the Mongolian sacred bird； the turpan or 〃Lama goose〃； on the higher dry places flocks of wild turkey gamboled and fought as they fed； flocks of the salga partridge whistled by； while on the mountain side not far away the wolves lay basking and turning in the lazy warmth of the sun； whining and occasionally barking like playful dogs。
Nature knows only life。 Death is for her but an episode whose traces she rubs out with sand and snow or ornaments with luxuriant greenery and brightly colored bushes and flowers。 What matters it to Nature if a mother at Chefoo or on the banks of the Yangtse offers her bowl of rice with burning incense at some shrine and