With the beginning of March, 1927, busy days began for the expedition. The future route had to be decided upon and men and caravan animals procured. The expedition's equipment had to be partly renovated, tents overhauled and stores replenished.
The encircling of inner Asia was not yet complete and we had to look for future fields of artistic and scientific work. China was out of the question, because of the severe international struggle that ravaged the great country. There remained Tibet, the Land of Snows—Tibet, which attracted in the past such a brilliant galaxy of men famous in the history of geographical explorations of our globe. The Trustees of the Roerich Museum were strongly in favor of our visiting the country for the purpose of collecting written and pictorial monuments of Buddhism, to study its living forms, and to bring back a pictorial record of a country never before visited by an artist.
From the outset it was impossible to say in what direction we would be able to cross the country of Tibet in order to reach the periphery of southern Asia. Central Tibet, with its large town monasteries, seemed to be the ideal place for antiquarian research. Most of the printing establishments were situated near Lhasa and Shigatse, and we could hope to get there a large and important collection of xylographs and manuscripts. It was decided to steer toward central Tibet and to decide there upon the farther route. Once in central Tibet, we could either continue our journey across the southeastern part of the country and cross into the Yunnan Province of China and from there to French Indo-China, or pass through a most forbidding forest country, intersected by deep-cut river valleys, into British Burma.
The next possible route was along the much trodden trade highway Gyangtse-Chumbi-Sikkim. Finally there remained the several routes across southwestern Tibet leading to Almora and Simla in the British Himalayas. The long and difficult route to Ladak and the eastern route through Chamdo and Bathang to Szu-ch'uan were from the beginning rejected, both on account of their difficulty and the fact that they have already been followed by several European expeditions.
The whole matter depended greatly on the decision of Tibetan authorities, and although we were assured of their good will and desire to help the work of the expedition we could not be certain about the last stretch of the journey from Tibet proper into India or South China and the French Colonies. The state of affairs in inner Asia and China made all sorts of unexpected events possible, and the only thing left to us was to trust Providence and proceed on our journey, leaving details to be decided on the spot.
In order to insure the safe passage of the expedition through the forbidden country of Tibet, it was decided to obtain proper permits from the Tibetan Government. We knew that the Mount Everest expeditions obtained passports from the Lhasan Government permitting the exploration of the mountain from the Tibetan side. In order not to be intruders and to make known our plans to the Government of the country, we applied in November, 1926, to the Tibetan representative in Urga. This official, who had the rank of a do-nyer, informed us that he was willing to help the expedition provided he received authorization from his government. A Tibetan caravan in charge of a petty Tibetan official was about to start for Lhasa. The Tibetan representative sent with it a long report about our expedition. The petition was addressed to His Holiness the Dalai Lama and a speedy telegraph answer by way of Calcutta and Peking was requested.
In February, 1927, the Tibetan representative sent a telegraphic request to Lhasa through Peking. A special official from the Tibetan consulate was deputed to Peking to cable from there to Lhasa and obtain a reply. He returned by the end of March with the good news that the Lhasan Government had authorized the delivery of passports to the expedition. The Tibetan representative promptly issued a passport for travel to inner Tibet or Pö-nang, a separate letter to the frontier authorities, and a letter of introduction to His Holiness the Dalai Lama.
Meanwhile another Tibetan caravan of traders was about to start from Urga. An additional letter was sent with this caravan informing the Lhasan and frontier authorities of our coming. It was difficult to obtain reliable information about routes leading from Mongolia to Tibet. The well-known route, Urga-Gurbun-Saikhan Mountains, Alashan, followed by the famous Prejevalski and General Kozlov during their memorable campaigns, was closed on account of political troubles. There remained the caravan route Yum-beise-An-hsi, but this route was very little known, except by a limited number of Tibetan traders and Mongolian lamas who had been on pilgrimage to Lhasa.
We spent many days endeavoring to obtain information about localities along the route, stages, conditions of water supply in desert tracts, and transport possibilities. The only expedition which had covered certain parts of this route was that of General P. K. Kozlov in 1899-1901. During this expedition Mr. Kaznakov, one of Kozlov's assistants, surveyed the southwestern Gobi, starting from Su-chou and making a traverse toward the Mongolian Altai. The hills north of An-hsi chou were carefully surveyed by Sir Aurel Stein during his central Asian expedition of 1915. As a whole, the southwestern Gobi remains one of the less known desert regions of Mongolia and central Asia.
From the existing maps of the region we could gain only a very faint idea of the country. Besides this initial difficulty, the few Mongol lamas and Tibetan traders who happened to stay in Urga and possessed some knowledge of the route, called the different localities by different names and it was quite impossible to figure out the route on the existing maps. The only points on the route which could be fixed on the map were the monastery of Yum-beise, the Oasis of Shara-khulusun, An-hsi, and Shih-pao-ch'eng in the Nan Shan Mountains, the usual southern terminus of the caravan route.
There remained still another route, once followed by Potanin in 1899. This route presented many advantages. It lay west of the Gurban-Saikhan range and led across the Gobi Desert toward the lake Gashun-nor and the Etsin-gol River. The narrow strips of vegetation along the course of the river afforded grazing grounds for caravan animals. It was by this route that Chingiz Khan advanced in 1227 A.D. to conquer the Tangut Kingdom of the Hsi-hsia. Unfortunately the border country between Kansu and inner Mongolia was infested by brigands, which made the passage by this route out of the question for a large expedition. We decided to follow the Yum-beise route.
The next important question was of the route from Urga to Yum-beise. Our intentions were to use motor cars on this portion of our journey. There are several routes from Urga to Yum-beise which are passable for motor cars, but nothing definite about them was known at Urga. The first route ran from Urga through Dzain-shabi-Lama-yin Gegen – Yum-beise. This route was almost impassable during the spring and summer months because of numerous rivers, the Orkhon and the rivers of the upper Selenga Basin, which it crossed on its way. The second route ran from Urga through Nga-Wang küren – the Monastery Tukhumun Dugan – Udzen-Wang – Khara-nidun – Yum-beise. This route had the great advantage of avoiding the difficult rivers of the Selenga Basin, and crossed the Ongin-gol in its upper course. The third route coincided with the second route as far as the monastery of Nga-Wang küren. From this point it ran south by southwest in the direction of the lakes Tsagan-nor and Orok-nor; it led over the firm ground of a stone desert, and quicksands and marshy ground were met only in the vicinity of the lakes Tsagan-nor and Orok-nor.
All the above routes led to Yum-beise. It was our intention to continue our journey on motor cars south of Yum-beise. We knew of great difficulties for motor traffic in the mountains south of Yum-beise and were trying to find out another route in order to avoid the rugged mountain ridges with belts of impassable sand dunes south of Yum-beise.
It was impossible to say from the beginning how many days we should have to travel to reach Yum-beise. Over a good road we could easily make sixty miles a day, but over heavy sandy ground we would have to proceed with the utmost care. Well-informed people advised us to start early in April before the sands in the desert had time to thaw and become soft. We were unable to obtain new cars from Peking in time and had to proceed in hired cars. In order to have a sufficient supply of gasoline at Yum-beise for the proposed journey from Yum-beise to An-hsi, we hired a camel caravan which started about March 15 with a gasoline supply for Yum-beise.
Another reason for hastening our departure was the approaching end of the camel season. In case we were unable to proceed on our motor cars farther than Yum-beise, we would have to hire camels there to continue the journey. If we delayed our departure from Urga, we would arrive at Yum-beise in May and it would be impossible to obtain camel transport. The caravan season for camels begins in the second half of August and continues through the whole of winter until April or even May. It runs through the coldest period of the year and the number of frozen men or men disfigured by frozen faces, ears, and limbs is appalling. I once happened to see a big caravan of Tibetans and Mongols coming from Tibet in midwinter. The men had left Sining in September and for four months had fought their way across the wind-swept expanses of the Gobi. Many of them contracted pneumonia and died a few stages south of Urga. Even these men, hardened as they were to the dismal conditions of traveling, could not endure the trial. Those who remained alive had their noses and cheeks frozen and long strips of blackened skin hung down their faces. Fearful swollen and blackened feet and hands, with evil-smelling wounds in which gangrene was rapidly developing, were ample proofs of their sufferings. Notwithstanding the terrible physical condition of the caravan, the men were cheerful and even held the opinion that the journey was a very successful one, for the caravan had crossed by the robber-infested region north of Kansu unmolested. Such is the reasoning of these tradesmen, who would stand almost anything provided their goods and caravan animals arrived intact. These desert crossings must have a special lure for them, for again and again they brave the perils of a Gobi winter and travel hundreds of miles in order to sell a few pieces of Tibetan country-made cloth or incense sticks. This could not be the mere pursuit of profit, for Mongol-Tibetan trade has never developed to a large extent. We have to look for an explanation in the nature of the desert itself, which exercises a strange, almost uncanny influence on any one who has once traveled over its expanses. The sailor is ever attracted by the sea, but the desert has its caravan man, who again and again returns to its vast unforgettable spaces and freedom.
In Urga, as in any of the big central Asian trading cities, the caravan men are a special caste of people, who play the part of seaport sailors. Among this class of caravan men, which is nowadays joined by the numerous confrérie of motor car drivers, you meet a unique collection of human types. Here are Russians, Germans, French, Mongols, Chinese, Tartars from Chinese Turkestan, Kirghizes, and Tibetans—men of different nationalities and different social standing, sons of prominent statesmen, former military men, tradesmen, and hunters, contrabandists, and former culprits, who seek security in the freedom of the desert. All this motley crowd of people fill the guest houses of Urga, always on the lookout for some job. A leader of an expedition has to be constantly on his guard in dealing with this sort of people. They will come and see him, will assure him of their best intentions, call him father or brother, as the case may be, and will promise to be obedient followers ready for any emergency. I have no doubt that most of these men possess a considerable amount of personal courage and that in the course of their lives many of them took part in bloody affairs; but for a scientific expedition, whose object is research and not adventure or conquest of new regions, such men are dangerous and sometimes may ruin the whole undertaking.
When we were enlisting men for our caravan, and the small guard which was to protect the passage of the expedition through the brigand area of inner Mongolia, hundreds of people—Russians, Estonians, Mongols, Chinese, and Tibetans—came to offer their services. Someone had spread the rumor in the city and its neighborhood that the American expedition was in need of 900 men! They came pouring in—unemployed workmen, Siberian Cossacks, Mongol ex-soldiers, and Chinese coolies. All of them assured us that they had nothing to lose, nothing to leave behind, that the lives of most of them were completely wrecked, and that they were eager to take part in a scientific adventure. We had to send back most of our visitors, and engaged some sixteen men, sturdy Mongols, whose past and present we could ascertain from local inhabitants. It was somewhat difficult to obtain suitable men from among the Tibetans of Urga, for few of them desired to return to their mother country. It seemed that they preferred the easy life of Urga to that of Lhasa.
In a month we gathered a sufficient number of men, who were engaged as camp servants and could serve as a fighting force in case of a conflict with brigand bands. Our expedition headquarters in Urga with their two courtyards were soon swarming. Several felt tents were pitched, in which the men of the escort were quartered and the expedition stores and supplies deposited. In the second courtyard stood the horses of the expedition guard, tied to picket ropes. A sentry was placed at the entrance to keep out strangers. The expedition guard received daily instruction in military drill and the use of firearms. Each man had to know how to behave in case of a fight, both on horse and on foot; how to take care of his arms and horse. Besides this he had to know the duties of a sentry and to be trained in signaling and reconnoitering in order to be able to give warning of any danger. Most of the men were former hunters. They were all good marksmen and many of them were good riders—essential in an expedition, for it prevents sore backs and saves the animals. Besides drill and target practice, the men were taught to set and roll up tents. They had to know all about such work, in order to pitch camp quickly after a long, hard day of marching.
In Urga the expedition was joined by Mr. Portniagin of Harbin, a young man of considerable experience in hard traveling across the Mongolian Gobi and of considerable personal courage.
Mrs. Roerich was accompanied on the trip by her personal assistants, two local Cossack girls, well prepared for the hard journey ahead of us. The outstanding feature of the expedition was the presence of three women on its staff, who bore all the hardships on the same footing with the men. The male personnel of the expedition had to give them full homage for their remarkable fortitude under the most trying conditions and physical danger.
On March 28 we had the great joy of greeting our American co-workers, Mr. and Mrs. Lichtmann, who arrived at Urga, bringing with them supplies and equipment for the expedition. The expedition was also joined by Dr. Riabinin, an old friend of ours, who volunteered to accompany us as medical advisor. His knowledge as doctor and dentist made his presence of great help to the expedition. Mr. and Mrs. Lichtmann brought with them quantities of camp outfits and tents, besides the very welcome winter clothing and medical chests sent by Mr. L. L. Horch and Mr. S. N. Roerich. The new tents from New York were of the so-called Canadian pattern—conical tents supported by only one pole with two crossbars to hold up the corners and a sewn square flooring. These tents had the great advantage of being extremely light. A man could easily carry one on his back, and a pack horse or mule could transport four of them. When pitching camp, a tent could be erected by a single man. They stood the windstorms and gales of the Tibetan highlands and altogether proved a very valuable addition to our camping outfit. The arrival of medical chests relieved us of a great anxiety. It was impossible in Urga to replenish our traveling chests and we were glad to receive an abundant supply from New York.
The old expedition tents needed considerable repair in order to stand another journey across the desert. All the wooden tent pegs, suitable for soft and sandy ground, had to be replaced by iron pegs, the only suitable material for the stony ground of the desert. We also bought several Chinese mai-han or tents made of blue cloth and supported by two poles and one horizontal bar; these have a wonderful oval shape and stand firmly during windstorms. They are generally used by caravans, their only defect being that they are cold and not waterproof. We did not take Mongol felt tents, for these with their wooden frames require a considerable time to pitch and become exceedingly heavy after a rain or snowstorm. During our subsequent detention on the cold Tibetan uplands, we often regretted not having at least one winter felt tent. The repair of the old tents and the strengthening of new tents took a considerable time and a full month elapsed before everything, pegs, ropes, tent bags, etc., was ready and of the required quality.
The saddlery also required much attention. We had received from New York two western saddles—wonderful saddles for steppe horses in central Asia. No European saddle could be obtained in Urga, and the Mongol escort did not know how to ride the ordinary English saddle. We had to procure Cossack saddles, which were common on the Urga market; these were handy and well suited to steppe horses. It is of utmost importance to have good saddles both for riding and pack, to prevent sore backs and preserve the animals. The bridles must also be carefully chosen. Bridles with thick irons are useless on the steppe or hill ponies of central Asia. A Cossack bit is ideal. The central Asiatic horse is usually headstrong and of an uncertain temper, and a severe bit is necessary in order to prevent bolting, a habit to which the animal is addicted.
The winter outfit for the personnel of the expedition also caused much anxiety. Urga is not an ideal place for equipment. We were obliged to buy Chinese tanned sheepskin and make warm sleeping bags and fur coats. We also found on the market several Siberian fur coats of heavy sheepskin. Every man in the expedition was equipped with a pair of warm fur-lined boots, called ichigi, in general use throughout Mongolia and Siberia.
The food supplies also had to be arranged, and all this took a great deal of time and energy on the part of the European personnel of the expedition.
Our stay in Urga was rapidly drawing to an end and the date of departure, fixed for April 15 was already close at hand. On April 14 the gates of the expedition compound swung wide to let in the cars.