The horizon being more distinct, thanks to the breeze, the view broadens towards the west, and stretches so far that the river is only visible as a slender thread, and gradually becomes lost in space. So we get once more that sensation of the desert which we nomads so like. Without attempting to analyse
A MONGOLIAN TENT (p. 19).
the feeling, I may say that the steppe, the desert, is a very fascinating place of sojourn for one who has lived in large cities, and has been put out of humour by the petty worries of civilisation. Solitude is a true balm, which heals up the many wounds that the chances of life have inflicted; its monotony has a calming effect upon nerves made over-sensitive from having vibrated too much; its pure air acts as a douche which drives petty ideas out of the head. In the desert, too, the mind sees more clearly, and mental processes are carried on more easily.
Encamping on a natural platform near a plantation through which the river runs, we light big fires, dry our clothes, and sacrifice a good fat sheep. The sheep remaining are fastened
