# George Roerich. Trails to the Inmost Asia

## VIII. Organizing the Expedition

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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.