The following day we went up over the high chain of mountains called Daban and, traversing a great area of burned timber where our trail lay among the fallen trees, we began to descend into a valley hidden from us by the intervening foothills.

There behind these hills flowed the Little Yenisei, the last large river before reaching Mongolia proper.

About ten kilometers from the river we spied a column of smoke rising up out of the wood.

Two of the officers slipped away to make an investigation.
For a long time they did not return and we, fearful lest something had happened, moved off carefully in the direction of the smoke, all ready for a fight if necessary.

We finally came near enough to hear the voices of many people and among them the loud laugh of one of our scouts.
In the middle of a meadow we made out a large tent with two tepees of branches and around these a crowd of fifty or sixty men.