The capital of Hsin-chiang greeted us with a spell of cold days, and icy winds blew across the surrounding plain. Our quarters were quite insufficient to accommodate all our men, baggage and horses. We decided therefore to search for new quarters—a difficult and almost hopeless task in crowded Urumchi.

Our first day was spent in official visits. In order to acquaint ourselves with the local situation, we first paid a visit to Mr. Cavalieri, the Italian Postmaster-General of Hsin-chiang. The road to his comfortable house, situated in the vicinity of the Governor-General's residence, led through the Russian Concession and the Mohammedan section of Urumchi. The snow had melted and the streets were full of indescribable black mud that stuck to the horses' hoofs and the carriage wheels. A motley crowd thronged the bazaars and shops of the city.

The Chinese were prominent everywhere, as were also their Mohammedan countrymen, the Tungans. Urumchi has a large colony of Tungans, and until lately they have played an important rôle at the Governor's palace. In connection with the warlike intentions of General Ma, of Sining, the Tungans of Hsin-chiang were suspected of conspiracy and many had to flee from the capital in order to escape from the wrath of Governor Yang.

The Kirghiz tribesmen from neighboring districts, riding through the streets in large numbers, were prominent among the crowds that filled the streets. All of them wore peculiar helmet-shaped fur caps and heavy sheepskins, with leather boots. The numerous tea houses and restaurants were crowded with soldiers, who were spending their last days in the capital gambling and drinking. The Kalmucks were prominent among the fighting men and distinguished themselves from the rest of the crowd by their proper military bearing and the look of self-reliance always present in a body of disciplined men.

The walled Chinese town with endless rows of shops displaying red-paper advertisements, and crowds of black-robed Chinese, was typical. The shops were well supplied with all sorts of Chinese and even European goods brought to Urumchi by camel caravans over the long six months' route across the Mongolian Gobi. Prominent among the Chinese shops were the Chinese undertakers' establishments, with huge wooden coffins, painted red, that lined the street. Every respectable Chinese has to be buried in his native province, and these huge sarcophagi serve to transport corpses of deceased merchants and other members of the Chinese colony to their native places in distant China.

We found in Mr. Cavalieri a sympathetic man, known to have assisted many American and European travelers. He had heard about our troubles in Khotan and advised us to settle matters personally with the Governor-General in order to eliminate the possibility of further troubles on our route. We told him of the difficulties we encountered in continuing our scientific and artistic work and that the local authorities made no distinction between a painting and a map. Mr. Cavalieri told us of an old friend of mine, Mr. Allen Priest, who had stayed with him for several weeks and had left Hsin-chiang for Siberia and China. Mr. Cavalieri strongly advised us to continue our route to Peking by way of Chuguchak and Siberia. According to him this was the only safe route for foreigners. The Kansu border was in a state of ferment and the route to Kansu was rendered dangerous by numerous bands of brigands and deserters, who had fled from the troops stationed along the route.

Mr. Cavalieri sent word to Chu Ta-hen, the private secretary to the Governor-General, requesting him to come at once, which he did with surprising promptitude. Mr. Chu was a young man of pleasant manners, possessing a fluent knowledge of Russian and some English.

We at once gained in him a trusted friend, who always tried his best to assist us during our stay in Urumchi and always volunteered to accompany us on our official visits and negotiations. We related to him in detail our experiences in Khotan and Karashahr. He waved his hands and said that it would be difficult to induce the Governor-General to start an inquiry. Very probably the local Governors had exceeded their powers, but this was a common grievance in Hsin-chiang administration. Mr. Chu told us that the Governor-General was very much worried about our unfortunate experiences in his Province and was anxious to meet us personally.

After our visit to Mr. Cavalieri, accompanied by Chu Ta-hen, we went to pay a call on the Governor-General and Fan Yao-han, the High Commissioner of Foreign Affairs in the Provincial Government of Hsin-chiang.

The Governor's residence consisted of several well-isolated buildings and inclosed courtyards. The gates were carefully guarded by patrols of heavily armed men. At one of the gates we noticed a heap of soldiers' caps ready for distribution to recruits. In another courtyard we found half a company of infantry, lined up with numerous banners and several buglers. The detachment was about to march to Hsin-hsin-hsia. The Governor's yamen seemed to us to be in a very dilapidated condition. The glass in many of the windows on the ground floor was broken and dirty paper and rags had been pasted on the window frames. Numerous retainers roamed about the courtyards and villainous bodyguards, armed with Mauser pistols and swords, were on duty at the entrance to the yamen.

We were received by the Governor-General in his private study—a small room containing a writing desk and filled with Chinese books in blue cloth bindings. Yang Tseng-hsin, the Governor-General of Hsin-chiang, rose to greet us and offered us chairs at his desk. He was a man of about sixty-five, robust and well-built, with a long gray beard. He was dressed in a very plain gray coat, with an ordinary black skullcap on his head. He spoke slowly and in a low tone, but then suddenly would raise his voice and thunder, in order to stress the importance of his statement. For over fifteen years he had held sway over the vast dominion. Appointed to his post after the Chinese Revolution of 1911 he succeeded in retaining his post for an unusually long period. His methods of government were harsh and determined, and his enemies did not dare to oppose his rule openly. In 1916 during the dangerous Kirghiz uprising on the Kashgar frontier, he showed himself a strong ruler, determined to crush his enemies. During the difficult period of 1919-23, when Russian Red and White detachments crossed the frontier of Hsin-chiang and carried war into Chinese Turkestan, he again succeeded in retaining his position and eliminating the danger. The dominant idea of his policy was to isolate Hsin-chiang from any outside influence, whether Chinese or European. He outwardly maintained friendly and correct relations with the Peking Government and used to send tribute regularly, but he did not tolerate any interference on the part of the central government in the local affairs of the Province.

The frontiers of Hsin-chiang were practically closed and any foreigners, even Chinese from China proper, were viewed with great suspicion and often arrested and deported. Especially abhorrent to him was the class of Chinese who had received education at foreign universities and was now trying to propagate modern ideas in China. A man of old-time ideas, he was unable to visualize a modern China, built up on modern lines. He considered the Province as his private estate and his administration was reactionary, without even the acceptable qualities of the old imperial system. During his rule Hsin-chiang enjoyed what might be called a superficial economic prosperity, but in reality this policy of complete isolation was slowly strangling the Province, as was already apparent in its organism. Factories and large commercial enterprises were strictly forbidden, for they necessitated the employment of large bodies of workmen, who might form the nucleus of a workers' class in Hsin-chiang and thus endanger the social structure of the Province. In his determination to keep Hsin-chiang isolated, the Governor-General refused permission to construct better roads and the use of motor traffic and airplanes for quick communication with the outside world.

The wireless stations at Urumchi and Kashgar, and the telegraph line connecting Hsin-chiang with China, were under strict censorship by the Governor-General, and private individuals were seldom permitted to use the wireless. Several years ago the Russo-Asiatic Bank started a motor service, both passenger and freight, between China and Hsin-chiang. The Chinese authorities in China expressed their approval of the new venture and several cars were sent across Mongolia to find a suitable route over the Gobi Desert. The Governor-General of Hsin-chiang was quick to veto this new venture, and one Packard car which succeeded in getting through was refused permission to travel in Hsin-chiang. The car was subsequently sold by the bank to Mr. Cavalieri, who succeeded in obtaining permission to drive it in the vicinity of Urumchi.

Newspapers and other printing establishments were forbidden throughout the Province and foreign magazines, papers, and correspondence were carefully censored before delivery. In most cases the newspapers and magazines were confiscated. Only these drastic measures insured the apparently peaceful condition of the Province.

Governor Yang was famous for his ruthlessness with his enemies. There were countless stories of dinner parties ending in bloodshed. For many years past a latent discontent had been known to exist in the masses of the people and official circles. In 1924 General Ma, Ti-t'ai of Kashgar, was captured and executed by orders of the Governor-General. The murdered Ti-t'ai was a cousin of the famous Ma-ch'i, Frontier Commissioner and Governor of Sining who since 1915 had held sway on the Sino-Tibetan border. During our stay in Urumchi, General Ma was said to be preparing an advance on Hsin-chiang. Governor Yang had to mobilize his troops and form a defense line along the Hsin-chiang-Kansu border. It is difficult to say how thoroughly these war preparations were carried out. Arrivals from Kansu told us that Hsin-hsin-hsia and the troops stationed there were in a terrible plight, destitute of almost everything, and that soldiers were deserting in large numbers, infesting the neighboring mountains, and causing panic among the population.

Besides being a statesman, Governor Yang was said to be a man of great literary attainment and the author of memoirs and numerous articles on administration, embodied in three large volumes, copies of which were recently sent to the British Museum.

Two years after our departure, the "reign" of Yang Tseng-hsin ended in a catastrophe on July 7, 1928, when the aged Governor-General was shot dead by the bodyguard of Fan Yao-han, the High Commissioner for Foreign Affairs. According to reports current in China, the Governor-General was presiding at a distribution of annual prizes in the local School of Administration, when the bodyguard of Fan Yao-han shot and killed him. This action of Fan Yao-han was probably the result of a long development.

An order from Peking appointed Fan Governor-General of Hsin-chiang. But fate was against him. When he reached the Governor's palace to assume his post, he was unexpectedly seized by the private secretary of the late Governor-General and thrown into prison. His daughter was also imprisoned and most of his trusted followers were executed. A few days afterward Fan Yao-han and his daughter were condemned to the ling-chi, a torture consisting of being cut alive into 10,000 pieces. Fan was made to witness the horrible death of his daughter. The reigns of government were taken by a temporary council, until the Nationalist Government at Nanking had appointed an official to the vacant post of Governor-General of Hsin-chiang.

We had a long interview with the Governor-General, who placed all the blame for our detention on the local officials at Khotan. According to him Ma Shao-wu, the Tao-yin of Khotan, was completely out of control, and the Governor-General vividly compared Khotan to a robbers' nest. The Karashahr Torguts were famous bandits, and it was no wonder we had trouble with them. We suggested that the magistrate in Karashahr was the ultimate cause of all our trouble in that city and Governor Yang appeared greatly surprised and shook his head, expressing his deep condemnation. His Excellency assured us that here in Urumchi we were free to do anything we liked.

We requested the Governor to instruct his officials to return our firearms to us, and His Excellency once more exclaimed: "What a shame! Of course you will have your arms returned to you! You foreigners are great men and have to excuse us small men." We spoke to him about our future plans, but he was very doubtful whether we should be able to continue our journey to Kansu. According to him the only way to reach Peking was to travel by way of Siberia. It seemed as if we should be forced once more to change our route.

After this instructive interview with the Governor-General we proceeded to Fan Yao-han, the High Commissioner of Foreign Affairs, who was temporarily discharging the duties of a Tao-yin. Fan studied several years at a Japanese university and was said to be a good diplomat. He promised us every assistance but voiced the same doubt regarding our proposed journey to Kansu. According to him it would be better for us to negotiate for permission to travel through Siberia.

In the afternoon of the same day, Professor Roerich applied for a transit visa through Siberia and was told that it would take about two weeks to receive an answer. We had to remain in Urumchi for a longer period than we expected. Mr. Feldmann, director of the Russo-Asiatic Bank, kindly offered us a house and a large courtyard belonging to the bank, which we gladly accepted.

From now on our days passed in excursions about the capital and frequent meetings with local officials. The conditions on the Kansu border were getting worse and we saw detachments of troops marching through the streets of the capital daily. A detachment was usually preceded by a band of musicians and several standard bearers carrying huge red, yellow, and multicolored flags. The soldiers were a motley collection of ruffians in uniform. Often one would see small boys of twelve carrying three rifles and marching with the troops. This meant that the owners of the rifles had captured the boys and intrusted their rifles to them, while they themselves enjoyed a smoke in a nearby restaurant.

According to the law of Hsin-chiang a man with a small private property was exempt from military service. As the result of this rule, the Provincial army consisted of vagabonds and beggars who had been collected by order of the Governor-General. The usual method of procuring the required number of fighters was to make a raid on all the night clubs and gambling houses in the city and its vicinity. The men found in them were at once arrested and sent to the military barracks. The soldiers' monthly pay in Hsin-chiang amounted to five lans or about three Mexican dollars. Very often the men were paid in opium. The troops were equipped with firearms of such variety that it was almost impossible to supply them with ammunition.

On April 20 we had a sudden and violent snowstorm that lasted for three days. The temperature dropped considerably and the surrounding mountains were covered with snow.

On April 25 Fan Yao-han invited the foreign colony of Urumchi to a banquet given at the Governor-General's summer palace. This palace was interesting for a huge cast-iron monument erected by the Governor-General in honor of himself. The expenses of making and transporting the huge statue from China to Urumchi were paid by the "grateful" population of the city.

On May 5 we were told by Fan Yao-han that the only route open for us was by way of Siberia. We decided to go to Lake Zaisan and then to Omsk by boat.

On May 10 the city was decorated with flags and the soldiers stopped their daily drill. News had been received that General Ma of Sining had been routed by the Tibetans. A few months ago the Tungan cavalry of General Ma had sacked the rich and venerated monastery of Labrang and Jam-yang she-pa ('Jam-dbyangs bshed-pa), the Incarnate Lama and abbot of the monastery had to flee to Kham or eastern Tibet. The lama sent out a letter addressed to all the tribal chieftains along the Sino-Tibetan border, with a demand to defend the monastery from destruction by the Tungan soldiers. The tribes mobilized two men from each nomad encampment, and soon a formidable force of nomad cavalry raided the outposts of the Tungan troops. Ma-ch'i's soldiers were forced to retreat and Tibetan raiding parties appeared in the vicinity of Tankar and Sining. General Ma was in a critical position and had to send all his available troops against the advancing Tibetans. The danger of the Kansu border was relieved a little.

On May 11 at luncheon at the Russo-Asiatic Bank, we met Dr. W. Filchner, the well-known German explorer and author of several books on northeastern Tibet and China. He told us of his difficulties with local authorities who refused to recognize the scientific aim of his expedition to fill in some of the existing gaps in the magnetic surveys of central Asia.

On May 13 the Governor-General arranged a luncheon in our honor. Among those present were Dr. Filchner, Mr. Cavalieri, Rev. Mr. Veldman, a Catholic missionary, and several Chinese officials from the Kulja border. We were told by the Governor-General that our passport for Peking would be ready on the following day and that he wished us a happy journey to Peking. This promised document assumed the shape of a six-foot scroll, in which the artistic and scientific aims of our expedition were set forth, besides a detailed list of our equipment and personal effects. Our arms were returned to us only on the eve of our departure.

On May 16 we left Urumchi on three telegas or Russian four-wheeled carriages. The loading of the carriages took a considerable time, and the owner of the carriages proved to be an ill-tempered man who gave us much trouble on the way.

The route from Urumchi to Chuguchak and Dürbüljin has often been described. Having left Urumchi and with it the T'ien Shan mountain country, we entered the self-contained basin of Jungaria, a country of sandy steppes, salt marshes, and saline lakes. The basin of Jungaria and the surrounding mountain regions have always been the scenes of great nomad migrations.

For almost two thousand years wave upon wave of indomitable nomad tribes stamped mighty civilizations under the hoofs of their horses and submerged entire nations. For centuries the ancient nomad route, one of the oldest historical highways of Asia, passing north of the Celestial Mountains or the T'ien Shan and connecting the uplands of Mongolia with the steppe country north of the Caspian and the Black Sea, resounded with the trampling of the moving hordes. We are as yet unable to reach the source of this mighty current of nations which, attracted by the centers of ancient culture, entered the path of conquest and shook the frontier barriers of China and of the Roman Empire. The iron legions of the ancient Romans and the acute diplomacy of Chinese statesmen were unable to check the onslaught.

As in mountain regions where the displacement of a single stone often carries down thousands of stones in an avalanche, so with nomad tribes. In the history of the nomads, we see a tribe growing in prosperity and encroaching on the grazing grounds of its neighbors. By conquest and raids it collects around itself neighboring tribes that, either conquered or allied, join themselves to their powerful neighbor as their overlord. Asia has seen again and again the rise of nomad tribes whose impulse sent rolling the mighty waves of tribal migrations. These great upheavals in the heart of Asia, which brought destruction and famine to many countries of Europe and the Near East and were described by contemporary writers as the Scourge of God, not only marked the downfall of the Classical World but also heralded the dark periods of the early Middle Ages. The violent shock of the Mongol invasion of the thirteenth century A.D., that terrified the whole of Europe, made a powerful imprint on the mentality of the epoch and paved the way for the later Renaissance Period.

Mighty nomad empires rose and vanished into the unknown. They did not leave behind them stately monuments or written records. All we know about them is the indelible impression left by their passage on neighboring countries. Until recently these nomad cultures were for us a closed book, and their meteoric brilliance only baffled the curiosity of scholars. But now we are learning to appreciate their historical importance and the tremendous influence exercised by the nomad culture on its neighboring and conquered nations.

The archaeology of nomad central Asia is still in its infancy and the hundreds of tumuli or ancient graves that cover the vast expanses of the Asiatic steppe country still await the spades of excavators. A new branch of historical science is coming into being, the object of which will be to formulate laws that will build up the nomad state and to study the remains of a great forgotten past.

One of the objects of the expedition was to survey and record the existence of funeral mounds and other vestiges of nomad culture, not yet recorded in scientific literature, along the northern rim of the T'ien Shan Mountains, the Jair Mountains, and the Altai. The ancient sites along the great trade routes south of the Celestial Mountains have been thoroughly excavated by a number of archaeological expeditions and there is little chance for sensational discoveries along the well-trodden paths. There remains the great central Asiatic nomad culture, whose vast province once stretched from the steppes of South Russia to the very confines of China. All along the northern rim of the inland basin of Chinese Turkestan lie vast groups of barrows hiding treasures of nomad rulers of the past, for a nomad chief was placed in his grave accompanied by all the earthly possessions dear to his heart. All along the border country of Mongolia and Jungaria are found numerous groups of funeral mounds. The unsettled conditions of the region and the frequent brigandage have as yet prevented detailed and extensive archaeological explorations.

Summer was rapidly setting in, with its torrid heat, and the desert plains emitted an intense glare. Mirages flickered in the distance, and the cloudless leaden sky radiated in the burning rays of the sun.

On May 17 we halted at Manas, a small town surrounded by numerous ruined villages and forts—traces of the Tungan rebellion of 1864. At every stage officials came to examine our passports, notwithstanding the special orders from the Governor-General.

Sandy tracts covered by tamarisks were interspersed with large belts of jungle, abounding in wild game.

On May 24 we sighted the undulating outlines of the Jair Mountains. The route to Chuguchak was rendered very unsafe by frequent robberies in the narrow gorges of the Jair Mountains. The robbers were mostly local Kirghiz who during the winter and spring months turned to brigandage and infested the neighboring mountains. Civil war had left with them considerable amounts of firearms and ammunition and well-armed bands of Kirghiz raided the trade routes connecting Urumchi with Chuguchak and Kulja. All the mountain trails were heavily guarded by Chinese soldiery and local militia, but this did not prevent the occurrence of frequent murders. A few weeks before our passage, a wealthy merchant from Kulja was killed in the mountains, in spite of his guard of forty soldiers. The expedition with its large convoy of loaded carriages had to exercise great precautions, reconnoitering the surrounding hills and keeping an eye on the strange riders who appeared and disappeared on the crest of the neighboring hills. The passage through the dangerous gorge of Kündelin was effected quietly at night.

Beyond the Jair Mountains, the country became more mountainous; we were rapidly nearing the vast mountain region of the Tarbagatai. During the years 1863-73, the district of Tarbagatai and the neighboring mountains of Urkoshar and Jair were settled by the Arban-sumun Ölöts, Kalmuck tribes that came from the south. The Kalmuck Ölöts were becoming more and more prominent and in the neighborhood of Dürbüljin we found numerous Kalmuck encampments and several nomad monasteries quartered in felt tents.

On May 26 we reached Dürbüljin, a small town situated east of Chuguchak—the emporium of frontier trade. Next day we set out toward the Siberian border. The road led over a vast expanse of rolling hills, covered by splendid grazing lands. The country was populated almost exclusively by Kirghiz, although Kalmuck encampments were numerous in the region of the Sawur Mountains. We passed on our way several Kirghiz winter quarters or qishlags, situated in well-sheltered side valleys. This ideal nomad country, affording pasturage to immense herds of horses and cattle, has always been a favorite grazing land for nomad tribes. It abounds in barrows, surrounded by concentric rounds of standing stone slabs, and other vestiges of the nomad past.

The officer in charge of the Chinese frontier outpost proved to be a quite illiterate fellow, and we experienced difficulties in explaining our passport to him. Next day we started under strong military protection for the Siberian border. We had to cross a belt of no-man's land situated between the Chinese and Russian frontier outposts. This region was a favorite ground for bandit attacks, and travelers were often molested by raiding bands of Kirghiz.

Two days were spent at the Russian outposts, to have formalities completed.

On June 1 we sailed on the Lobkov from Zaisan to Semipalatinsk and Omsk on the Siberian Railroad.