walk any distance, no matter how short, if he can ride; his horse is always tethered outside the yurta, ready for use at any moment; he herds his cattle on horseback, and when on a caravan journey nothing but intense cold will oblige him to dismount and warm his limbs by walking a mile or two. His legs are bowed by constant equestrianism, and he grasps the saddle like a centaur. The wildest steppe-horse cannot unseat its Mongol rider. He is in his element on horseback, going at full speed; seldom at a foot's pace, or at a trot, but scouring like the wind across the desert. He loves and understands horses; a fast galloper or a good ambler is his greatest delight, and he will not part with such a treasure, even in his direst need. His contempt for pedestrianism is so great that he considers it beneath his dignity to walk even as far as the next yurta.
Endowed by nature with a strong constitution, and trained from early childhood to endure hardships, the Mongols enjoy excellent health, notwithstanding all the discomforts of life in the desert. In the depth of winter, for a month at a time, they accompany the tea-caravans. Day by day the thermometer registers upwards of -20° of Fahrenheit, with a constant wind from the north-west, intensifying the cold until it is almost unendurable. But in spite of it they keep their seat on their camels for fifteen hours at a stretch, with a keen wind blowing in their teeth. A man must be made of iron to stand this; but a Mongol performs the journey backwards and forwards four times during the
