The Mongols are a good-tempered and amiable people. I made acquaintance with them on the outskirts of their wide domain, and once I travelled right through Mongolia. My starting-point was Peking, and my direction due north-west. It was in the end of March and the beginning of April, 1897. At that time the Trans-Siberian Railway was not completed farther than to Kansk, a small town east of the Yenisei. That was the longest drive I ever took in my life, for from Peking to Kansk the distance is 1800 miles, and I only rested a day on the whole journey, namely at Irkutsk, the capital of Eastern Siberia. In Peking I provided myself with all that was necessary for a journey to the Russian frontier. First and foremost a Chinese passport, which authorised me to call out Mongols and their horses, and, if I wished, to put up in their tents. Then provisions had to be bought--tinned meats, bread, tea, sugar, etc. From the Russian Legation I obtained an escort of two Cossacks, who were very delighted to have this chance of returning to their homes in Siberia after completing their time of service in Peking. In Mongolia the traveller does not drive in the usual way. There is no driver on the box, and you do not lean back comfortably in a four-wheeled carriage on springs. To begin with, there is no road at all and no rest-houses; but horses must be changed frequently, and this is done in the Mongolian villages. The Mongols, however, are nomads, and their villages are always on the move. Therefore you must know first of all where the villages happen to be, and in the second place must give the people notice to have a certain number of horses ready. A mounted messenger is sent on in advance for this purpose and then the horses are never wanting. Only the Mongols themselves know where the next villages are situated, and so at every village a fresh retinue of Mongols is provided. And because the villages are being constantly moved you can only travel in a straight line between them, and cannot follow any determined route. You drive along over desert and steppe, and usually see no vestige of an old wheel rut. The vehicle in which you travel is a very simple contrivance. It is a cart on two medium-sized wheels, closed all over with a rounded tilt covered with blue cloth. A small window in front and two side windows allow you to see over the steppe; the window glass is fixed into the stretched cloth so that it cannot be cracked by the jolting. The cart has no springs, and its bottom rests directly on the axles. There is no seat, and the traveller sits on cushions, furs, and rugs, and there is only room for one person. The cart is of the usual Chinese pattern with shafts for a mule or horse. In China the driver sits on one of the shafts or runs alongside. I had my bags strapped on to the base of the shafts. My large baggage was forwarded on camels, and it reached Stockholm six months after I did.