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down. After this arrangement had been made it started pouring in real earnest and it got pitch dark. The edges of the sheet were hanging on our heads and to prevent a wet sheet from flapping into our faces we had to hold up our arms to support the cloth with our hands. The rain water was dripping into our sleeves and our legs, which were hanging over the sides were getting wetter and wetter, the water running into the boots from the top. To add to our discomfort the road was getting slippery and the truck was sliding from one side to the other, sometimes skidding on two wheels and sometimes on four. The rocking of the car turned the Mongol women and children who were sitting in the center, sea-sick. The kids were howling and in the pitch dark dampness it certainly was no joyride at night. Towards morning we at last managed to reach a station and although the air of that single room where I was boxed up with some 30 Mongols was not exactly pleasant, the warmth [[x-ed through]] of the room and the hot Mongol tea certainly seemed good to me. But not every trip is rotten. I have also made some very pleasant trips. I once set out with a bunch of friends from Urga to Kalgan, quite an international crowd, two Germans one Britisher, [[x-ed through]] one Dane, One Swede and two Russians with a Russian Chauffeur. We had quite a [[x-ed through]] supply of good things to eat, the necessary Vodka and as one passenger knew how to drive the car, we intended to travel through the night and make a record trip to Kalgan. But accidents will happen to the best car. We had not got as far as the bridge over the river Tola which is about ten miles from Urga when the axle of the hind wheel broke clean off. We had a spare one, but still it meant a delay of one night for it was getting dusk already and the chauffeur could hardly see. We could have walked back to Urga, but we preferred to stay where we were to make a picnic of it. Some of us set out to collect Argal for the camp fire, two of my friends took my rain coat along to use it as a bag to collect the argal in and we heard them shouting some little distance away "Hurrah we have struck a gold mine" but a few seconds afterwards they yelled "but it is not quite dry yet"". 
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