A Tour in Mongolia by Beatrix Manico Gull

"Each path with robes and various dyes bespread, Seems from afar a moving tulip bed"

-- _Tickell_

Our visit to Urga had been most fortunately timed, and we were delighted to hear within a few days of reaching the capital that the great semi-religious, semi-athletic festival of the Ts'am Haren, or sacred dance, was to take place during the second week in July. A more bewilderingly picturesque and fantastic sight than this presented day after day -- held at intervals it prolonged itself over a fortnight -- I never expect to see. Proceedings included the presentation of tribute to the Hut'ukt'u, followed by an archery competition, continued with the dance of the gods, a great wrestling tourney, and wound up with a race meeting.

Reminiscent in some degree of their past glories, the Mongol princes and their banner-men came from distant principalities of the dominion to take part in these feats of strength and skill, and at the same time to present their gifts and to do homage to their spiritual and temporal chief. Bogdo, the Hut'ukt'u ("he who is born again"), the Living God of Mongolia, is nominally the ruling spirit of these festivities, but although his chair of state was always prominently in position, this mighty ruler, whom his subjects believe to be the richest as well as the most potent monarch in the world (has he not 2000 white ponies and a 1000 white camels? ), did not come to sit in it. On one occasion only did "He that can do no wrong" put in an appearance, and that was when lamas and princes assembled to hand over to him the money and presents that had been begged from, and squeezed out of, his subjects throughout the length and breadth of Mongolia. Great were the rejoicings when it became known that Bogdo was to be present in person, to receive with his own fair hands the offerings that had been brought to Urga. Bogdo, the Djibson Dampa Lama (Holy Reverence) Edsen Han, as he is severally styled, the chief of all the Hut'ukt'us, by birth a Tibetan, being son of a steward to the Dalai Lama, is a man of middle age, already decrepit, in appearance bloated, dissipated, uninspiring. The spiritual head of the Mongolian Buddhists, he now lays claim, since Mongolia is no longer subject to Chinese rule, to temporal authority as well. Indeed the position of this lama pontiff is of unusual character, and might almost be said to embrace a dual personality. On the one hand, the celibate ruler of priests, the religious leader of the faith. On the other, the crowned emperor of the Mongols; crowned with his wife, and firmly insistent that their ten-year old son should be crowned as his heir, that there should be no room for doubt as to his intentions in regard to the succession to the Mongol throne.

That all actions of the Hut'ukt'u must of necessity be right is ingrained in the minds of his people, and taken quite literally by his adherents. That he, the reincarnation of the sainted historian Taranatha, should openly, and I use the word advisedly, for Mongolia is a wonderful country for winking at things nominally taboo, take unto himself a wife must, even though such action is a violation of all Buddhistic principles, be right, because Bogdo can do no wrong. There are many stories rife as to the iniquities of their ruler, and one that I myself heard on good authority made him responsible for the cruel murder of a well-known Mongol official, whom he is said to have forced into drinking in his presence a cup of poisoned wine.

Into Bogdo's house we did not penetrate. It would have been difficult enough under ordinary circumstances to have obtained an audience, but, as it was, the Hut'ukt'u was in a bad state of health, and moreover it was rumoured that an addition to his family was daily expected. A pleasant ride along the valley of the Tola River brought us to the confines of Bogdo's compound, and we were interested in the queer mixture of styles the house presented. Built of wood, the main part of the structure might have been an English farm-house, but out of all character with this was the square green tower in the middle of it, and the many little Chinese turrets and pavilions with yellow-tiled roofs. The compound was surrounded by a rough fir tree fence and the place presented an untidy appearance. There was nothing to suggest the immense wealth with which Bogdo is credited, beyond the insignificant fact of a small herd of antelope inside a neighbouring compound. Far more picturesque, at a stone's throw distant, was the residence of the Choi Gin Lama, Bogdo's brother, a well-planted garden surrounding a number of small houses and a temple, all with green roofs and Tibetan in style.

The general arrangements for the Ts'am Haren were carried out with great forethought and method; the discipline and general order as one event followed another would really rival the management of like festivities in the Western world. Our main difficulty was that we could seldom ascertain within a few hours as to when the performances began, and in consequence of this we were always up to time and had a good deal of waiting about. For the presentations to Bogdo great preparations were made; the approaches to the temple were well protected by southern soldiers who supplement the body-guard of the Hut'ukt'u, and the barriers around which the little lama boys played "tag," or a Mongolian form of it, fenced off great spaces across which the unwary foreigners might otherwise have cantered their horses in disrespectful light-heartedness.