Audacious thieves

In the morning we are woken up by the same long-term rain like it has already begun last night. Because of Mogis constant barking we are dog-tired. The current awake shift system proves only one sense if we on every emotion of our dog react because one of hundred barking could announce the thieves. “Oh one, it will not be easy to keep on doing this night shifts.” I say yawning. “What do you think? Should we stay here one more night?” asks Tanja because of the rain. “Humph, I do not know. At the moment it really proves no sense to pack up everything. The tent is too wet and heavy. We should wait and later decide.” I suggest.

At 11:00 o’clock it suddenly clears up. “Should we go?” I ask. Tanja hesitates. For any reason she would still stay here this day. Because we would not like to miss the Naadam in Mörön I suggest after some minutes of thinking to keep on going.

At 13:30 o’clock the horses are loaded. We sit just in the saddle as one more cloud front over the lake comes. We put on our protective clothes. Then we leave the camp. Already behind the first bay line up the ger camps one on the other. In winter they all were blank, however, now there rules activity here.

After 10 kilometers we reach Khatgal. As we reach the main road the purest inferno raves about us. In only few minutes a storm with strong rain floods the country, the place and us. Wet whips us in the face and takes nearly any view. Within minutes there is all at least 10 to 20 centimeters under water. “Get off the horse!” roars Tanja. The storm nearly swallows her voice. I follow her advice. We take the packhorses in the leadership ropes and run through an endlessly appearing lake witch becomes every second deeper. In the corner of the eye we see people sitting in their sales stores and observing us from their sure wooden huts by the windows.

Tuya and Mogi look like watered poodles. Their wet fur drips and the mush of the way has soiled them. Like a funeral cortege we walk by the storm it is not possible to take shelter somewhere. “I only can hope for the density of the camera cases!” I roar. “What?” asks Tanja. “I hope the camera cases hold dense!” I recur. “There in front is the store!” I hear Tanja calling against the blustering wind. Because our food stocks are finished we have to visit one of the stores. Beside a small shop we bind our animals to the wooden fence. To relieve them we unload them. While I watch the horses and equipment Tanja goes to the shop to get supplies for us. Very sudden as if the hand of the weather God had closed the sluice gate of the clouds, the torrent stops. Surprised I look to the sky. Only after minutes the first sunrays shine through the clouds.

It only lasts 20 minutes till Tanja appears with a full backpack. “I have got everything what we need. Above all a heap of biscuits and chocolate for you,” she says laughing. “To eat finally, sometimes something reasonable,” I answer jokingly.

Quick the sea bags are loaded again on the horse back and we leave the place behind us. We trot by the wide valley in we have so terribly frozen the last year. Because Khatgal is known for an area where a lot of horses get stolen we try to bring as much kilometers as possible between us and the place.

“Naraa is tired.” Tanja says. “We have to go further,” I answer. “There ahead near the rock we maybe find a resting place. Till there we must keep on going, it is about five kilometers till the rock formation.”

At 19:30 o’clock we lead our animals by a very wide with juicy grass covered valley. On the left side a small river writhes. On the right beside us a rocky wall about 50 meters rises. “A nice place,” says Tanja tiredly. “Yes, absolutely, behind us is the rock, before ourselves a juicy pasture and then the river.” After we have tied on our horses we look at the foot of the cliff for wood. It is humid from the rain however, we manage to light a fire and we can heat up water for tea and ready food. On the opposite side of the valley, about 1 kilometer from here, we recognize some gers. Shepherds drive with shrill whistles and loud calls their sheep, goats, and cattle in the enclosures. “Whether do they see us?” Tanja asks. “Yes I think so in Mongolia every shepherd owns binoculars or small telescope to observe his herd. Moreover, they have noted long ago our fire. But it is not every Mongol immediately a horse thief”, I answer reassuringly

At 22.00 o’clock we go in the tent. Tanja makes her self as far as possible comfortable in the pre tent. I lie down in the sleeping cabin the material door I leave open to be able to jump out fast if necessary. I lay my weapons beside myself: the big knife, pepper gas and luminous track firing pencil. The stones which I have collected pile up on the right beside the entrance. “Sleep well”, I say. “Yes, thank you. Also sleep you well”, she answers.

Possibly it is because of the full moon. I can close no eye for hours. Mogi in addition contributes with his bark. Over and over again he discovers horses or, otherwise, something from his view needs to be barked on. Over and over again Tanja and I shoot in the seat position, reach to the forehead lamp and shine the area the horses are fixed on. There is nothing. Thank God. Maybe we overreact? But one has warned us continually. Clear we could write all warnings in the wind and take it easy and sleep after a strenuous day. However, a horse has been already stolen from us, or better said from Bilgee.

4:00 o’clock in the morning. Mogi barks once again. Tanja goes upwards, reaches to the forehead lamp and sees outward. “I do not believe it. There come two riders”, she says in a tone my adrenalin level is shooting upwards. Within seconds I jump with pepper gas and light pen arms out from my sleeping cabin beside Tanja and shine also in the beginning dusk. Tanjas beam of light meets one of the riders directly in the face. He holds his hand before it, either not to be recognized or not to be blinded. The bright ray of my forehead lamp meets the second man. Therefore we show that here are several people. Both men ride in a distance of about three meters directly along us. They say no tone. Excitedly we shine to them behind. “Whether are these only shepherds?” Tanja asks. “At this time? These are they. These are horse thieves”, I am sure. Perplexed we watch like the both in traditional deels dressed men 20 meters behind the camp turn, the small river cross and their horses once more in our direction steer.
“They come again”, says Tanja. Mogi barks like crazy. Our hearts knock so that we believe the men can hear it. As they ride in bigger distance it is more difficult to recognize their faces. But they are turned unambiguously in our direction. “They check the situation for a renewed attempt”, I whisper. “Yes”, whispers Tanja, then they disappear in the paled light of the night.

“Incredibly, now we have experienced it”, says Tanja. “ I did not really think of meeting horse thieves“, I say still nervously. “Whether have they really gone now?” Tanja asks. “ I think so. They had certainly not counted on our watchfulness“, I say. “A normal tourist who was not warned would sleep at this time.” “Then now the horses would be away.” “Yes, I am sure”, believes Tanja.
Shaking from cold I go again in my sleeping cabin. “Woof! Woof! Woof!” barks Mogi moments later. Tanja looks immediately outward. “What is wrong?” I ask and feel like the extremely disagreeable feeling of excitement, fear and adrenalin every cell of my body of new one allows to enter. “I think they come again.” “What?” “Yes, they drive horses in our direction.” “A horse herd?” I ask amazed. “Quick, put on your shoes. They come”, says Tanja on which I quickly in my shoes slip. Moments later we hurry with our weapons before the tent. Tanja goes instinctively between the bound horses during I knee next to the annoyed barking Mogi. The men drive about 30 to 40 horses before themselves, directly next to our tent. For a moment we do not understand what they suppose and what their aim is. Still they could be shepherds, perhaps they have searched their horses and want to drive them at this early hour to other pasture places. “Horse activity!”, shouts one of the men. For fractions of one second I recognize his face his expression not to be interpreted. Mogi barks aggressively. I hold him still at his neckband. Loud neigh, excited snorting and the calls of the putative shepherds joins to an unreal sound symbiosis. By the herd instinct our horses want to follow the herd. The ropes stretch. It can last only seconds that the strong pull gets the iron hooks out of the humid ground. Should this happen the animals would be lost for us. The men would drive the herd one or two kilometers out of the camp, jump out of the saddle, would separate our horses of the herd, take them at the ropes and gallop away. We would not have the slightest chance to catch them up. The only horses we would find would be the left behind horse herd. A brilliant plan we can oppose absolutely nothing. Only now we understand the tactics of these audacious, disgusting thieves. They are undoubtedly skilled professionals. “That is not their herd. They drove them of a pasture here to take therefore our horses!” shouts Tanja. “Yes, I have also understood it!” I answer as the haunting already is over. The herd further moves. All pegs have held. To us there falls a stone of the heart. “It is over!” I shout. Before we are able to exhale, we are once more frighten. Under loud shouting the men shoo again the herd in a big circle and ride faster from new directly to our camp. “They come again!” I roar. Everything goes so fast that no time remains around to examine the earth hooks. “This is my horse!” shouts Tanja because one of the thieves wants to drive Sharga with his whip away from the earth hook. Should he gallop loose he is lost for us.

Moments later the haunting is over again. Everything is quiet. As if we had only pretended two lawbreakers just have driven a whole horse herd directly through our camp. Only the rumbling of the galloping hoofs is to be heard. “Puhh, we had luck. They wanted to separate not only one horse, they wanted all horses.” I say the whole body with excitement shaking.

“Whether do they come again?” asks Tanja. In the ray of our forehead lamps we recognize the men. They stand in a distant about 50 meters away of the camp and seem to discuss their next steps. To us it is clear if they appear once more they will start violence. “Take a few stones”, I say to Tanja. “Because we are on the ground we are in the advantage. Also they will exactly consider whether they rise from the saddles.” Because there in this country are many dangerous dogs and every Mongol has without exception big respect before them. Apart from the fact the men do not know as prepared we for this moment are. Absolutely they have reckoned not in their dreams of bumping into this attention. Maybe something like this has not happen to them in their whole thief’s career? Saraa has reported to us that according to the value and gravity of horse steeling there is a punishment of imprisonment up to 10 years. Now, to have a violent argument with foreigners would be heavy robbery. In this case the men also do not know any more whether they are furthermore in advantage. The advantage lies for thieves in the surprise and above all to remain unrecognized. Our hearts beat us up to the neck. The tension is intolerable. If I had a gun I would deliver absolutely a few warning shots in the air and the situation would be cleared. To sacrifice a tracer bullet is ventured. We own only three cartridges and do not know whether on the distance lying before us we still need them. There pass only few minutes and the shadowy shades of the riders go away. “They go”, whispers Tanja. “Yes”. “Where from they knew where our camp lies?” “I do not know. They must have seen us in Khatgal.” “In spite of the thunderstorm?” “Apparently. Or one has given them a tip. Obvious there is in this damned place a network of informants, fact is that they exactly know where we are. The time of their appearance was too perfect. No light around really to be recognized and even enough light around for such an action”, I answer. “That is right. And at 4:00 o’clock in the morning there sleeps every normal person. Whether do they come again?”, asks Tanja. “Who wants to know that. We must remain watchful.” “Now well I cannot sleep any more.” “I also not. I think we should use our roused adrenalin to pack up and bring as much kilometers like goes between us and this place.” “Good idea. So lets us pack”, says Tanja.