They live in tents or in huts covered with a kind of felt prepared from horsehair and furnished with skins; and breed horses, of which they possess large studs of their own. Men and women are famous riders, and live in saddles from the cradle to the grave. Men and women wear very much the same kind of garments, heavy boots and low felt hats, and leave their long hair hanging in greasy tresses. They resemble the Chinese very much, and even more so the Tibetans and Bhutanese, and profess the same religion too--for nearly all are Buddhists. Hundreds of Lamas swarm all over the country, and there are several monasteries belonging to them. The Government, which is generally hostile to any creed except the Greek Church, not only tolerates, but apparently supports their claims to a certain extent. Russia seems of late to be taking a great interest in its Buddhist subjects, of whom it possesses several hundred thousands. It even accords them every facility to make their great pilgrimages to the Lama of Lhassa, in mysterious Tibet, and by this means gets into constant communication with the forbidden land. The last day of our journey is passed in the Amur region; that enormous district, which was granted to Russia without the drawing of a sword and without any cost, by a single stroke of the pen of Count Muraviev after the Treaty of Pekin in 1860. From Chitta the line turns to the south-east, and we are proceeding to the so-called Chinese frontier. At midnight we reach our destination, a settlement called Manchury, lost in a corner of the desert of Gobi. On the other side extends Manchuria, which I am emphatically assured belongs to the Yellow Empire. From here the railway runs under a different title. Instead of being the "Russian State," it is called the "Eastern Chinese Railway Company." It has three main branches. One runs from Siberia to Harbin, the second from Harbin to Vladivostok, the third from Harbin to Port Arthur. They unite the Yellow with the Black Sea through Moscow, and the Pacific with the Baltic through St. Petersburg. What may have appeared to be a dream only a few years ago is a reality today. A saloon car containing a bedroom, study with verandah, servant's quarters, and a kitchen, which the Company very kindly put at my disposal, and which is to serve as my home while getting as far as Niu-chwang and Port Arthur, is now being attached to the new train, and while it is being got ready I have time to sum up recollections and arrange my papers. [Illustration: THE STATION OF MANCHURY "Lost in a corner of the desert of Gobi" To face page 60]