"Tell me about yourself and your trip," he urged. In response Irelated all that I thought would interest him and he appeared quiteexcited over my tale.
"Now I shall tell you about myself, who and what I am! My name issurrounded with such hate and fear that no one can judge what isthe truth and what is false, what is history and what myth. Sometime you will write about it, remembering your trip throughMongolia and your sojourn at the yurta of the 'bloody General.'"He shut his eyes, smoking as he spoke, and tumbling out hissentences without finishing them as though some one would preventhim from phrasing them.
"The family of Ungern von Sternberg is an old family, a mixture ofGermans with Hungarians--Huns from the time of Attila. My warlikeancestors took part in all the European struggles. Theyparticipated in the Crusades and one Ungern was killed under thewalls of Jerusalem, fighting under Richard Coeur de Lion. Even thetragic Crusade of the Children was marked by the death of RalphUngern, eleven years old. When the boldest warriors of the countrywere despatched to the eastern border of the German Empire againstthe Slavs in the twelfth century, my ancestor Arthur was amongthem, Baron Halsa Ungern Sternberg. Here these border knightsformed the order of Monk Knights or Teutons, which with fire andsword spread Christianity among the pagan Lithuanians, Esthonians,Latvians and Slavs. Since then the Teuton Order of Knights hasalways had among its members representatives of our family. Whenthe Teuton Order perished in the Grunwald under the swords of thePolish and Lithuanian troops, two Barons Ungern von Sternberg werekilled there. Our family was warlike and given to mysticism andasceticism.
"During the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries several Barons vonUngern had their castles in the lands of Latvia and Esthonia. Manylegends and tales lived after them. Heinrich Ungern von Sternberg,called 'Ax,' was a wandering knight. The tournaments of France,England, Spain and Italy knew his name and lance, which filled thehearts of his opponents with fear. He fell at Cadiz 'neath thesword of a knight who cleft both his helmet and his skull. BaronRalph Ungern was a brigand knight between Riga and Reval. BaronPeter Ungern had his castle on the island of Dago in the BalticSea, where as a privateer he ruled the merchantmen of his day.
"In the beginning of the eighteenth century there was also a well-known Baron Wilhelm Ungern, who was referred to as the 'brother ofSatan' because he was an alchemist. My grandfather was a privateerin the Indian Ocean, taking his tribute from the English traderswhose warships could not catch him for several years. At last hewas captured and handed to the Russian Consul, who transported himto Russia where he was sentenced to deportation to the Transbaikal.
I am also a naval officer but the Russo-Japanese War forced me toleave my regular profession to join and fight with the ZabaikalCossacks. I have spent all my life in war or in the study andlearning of Buddhism. My grandfather brought Buddhism to us fromIndia and my father and I accepted and professed it. InTransbaikalia I tried to form the order of Military Buddhists foran uncompromising fight against the depravity of revolution."He fell into silence and began drinking cup after cup of tea asstrong and black as coffee.
"Depravity of revolution! . . . Has anyone ever thought of itbesides the French philosopher, Bergson, and the most learned TashiLama in Tibet?"The grandson of the privateer, quoting scientific theories, works,the names of scientists and writers, the Holy Bible and Buddhistbooks, mixing together French, German, Russian and English,continued:
"In the Buddhistic and ancient Christian books we read sternpredictions about the time when the war between the good and evilspirits must begin. Then there must come the unknown 'Curse' whichwill conquer the world, blot out culture, kill morality and destroyall the people. Its weapon is revolution. During every revolutionthe previously experienced intellect-creator will be replaced bythe new rough force of the destroyer. He will place and hold inthe first rank the lower instincts and desires. Man will befarther removed from the divine and the spiritual. The Great Warproved that humanity must progress upward toward higher ideals; butthen appeared that Curse which was seen and felt by Christ, theApostle John, Buddha, the first Christian martyrs, Dante, Leonardoda Vinci, Goethe and Dostoyevsky. It appeared, turned back thewheel of progress and blocked our road to the Divinity. Revolutionis an infectious disease and Europe making the treaty with Moscowdeceived itself and the other parts of the world. The Great Spiritput at the threshold of our lives Karma, who knows neither angernor pardon. He will reckon the account, whose total will befamine, destruction, the death of culture, of glory, of honor andof spirit, the death of states and the death of peoples. I seealready this horror, this dark, mad destruction of humanity."The door of the yurta suddenly swung open and an adjutant snappedinto a position of attention and salute.
"Why do you enter a room by force?" the General exclaimed in anger.
"Your Excellency, our outpost on the border has caught a Bolshevikreconnaissance party and brought them here."The Baron arose. His eyes sparkled and his face contracted withspasms.
"Bring them in front of my yurta!" he ordered.
All was forgotten--the inspired speech, the penetrating voice--allwere sunk in the austere order of the severe commander. The Baronput on his cap, caught up the bamboo tashur which he always carriedwith him and rushed from the yurta. I followed him out. There infront of the yurta stood six Red soldiers surrounded by theCossacks.
The Baron stopped and glared sharply at them for several minutes.
In his face one could see the strong play of his thoughts.
Afterwards he turned away from them, sat down on the doorstep ofthe Chinese house and for a long time was buried in thought. Thenhe rose, walked over to them and, with an evident show ofdecisiveness in his movements, touched all the prisoners on theshoulder with his tashur and said: "You to the left and you to theright!" as he divided the squad into two sections, four on theright and two on the left.
"Search those two! They must be commissars!" commanded the Baronand, turning to the other four, asked: "Are you peasants mobilizedby the Bolsheviki?""Just so, Your Excellency!" cried the frightened soldiers.
"Go to the Commandant and tell him that I have ordered you to beenlisted in my troops!"On the two to the left they found passports of Commissars of theCommunist Political Department. The General knitted his brows andslowly pronounced the following:
"Beat them to death with sticks!"He turned and entered the yurta. After this our conversation didnot flow readily and so I left the Baron to himself.
After dinner in the Russian firm where I was staying some ofUngern's officers came in. We were chatting animatedly whensuddenly we heard the horn of an automobile, which instantly threwthe officers into silence.
"The General is passing somewhere near," one of them remarked in astrangely altered voice.
Our interrupted conversation was soon resumed but not for long.
The clerk of the firm came running into the room and exclaimed:
"The Baron!"He entered the door but stopped on the threshold. The lamps hadnot yet been lighted and it was getting dark inside, but the Baroninstantly recognized us all, approached and kissed the hand of thehostess, greeted everyone very cordially and, accepting the cup oftea offered him, drew up to the table to drink. Soon he spoke:
"I want to steal your guest," he said to the hostess and then,turning to me, asked: "Do you want to go for a motor ride? Ishall show you the city and the environs."Donning my coat, I followed my established custom and slipped myrevolver into it, at which the Baron laughed.
"Leave that trash behind! Here you are in safety. Besides youmust remember the prediction of Narabanchi Hutuktu that Fortunewill ever be with you.""All right," I answered, also with a laugh. "I remember very wellthis prediction. Only I do not know what the Hutuktu thinks'Fortune' means for me. Maybe it is death like the rest after myhard, long trip, and I must confess that I prefer to travel fartherand am not ready to die."We went out to the gate where the big Fiat stood with its intrudinggreat lights. The chauffeur officer sat at the wheel like a statueand remained at salute all the time we were entering and seatingourselves.
"To the wireless station!" commanded the Baron.
We veritably leapt forward. The city swarmed, as earlier, with theOriental throng, but its appearance now was even more strange andmiraculous. In among the noisy crowd Mongol, Buriat and Tibetanriders threaded swiftly; caravans of camels solemnly raised theirheads as we passed; the wooden wheels of the Mongol carts screamedin pa............