Successful hunters

Day: 257-259

Sunrise:
06:46/06:41

Sunset:
20:04/20:07

Total kilometers:
1341

Soil condition:
Ice, snow

Temperature – Day (maximum):
10°C

Temperature – day (minimum):
minus 0°C

Temperature – Night:
minus 12°C – minus 20°C

Latitude:
51°33’337”

Longitude:
099°15’341”

Maximum height:
1981 m above sea level

Before the big move to spring camp, the hunters come and go. “Because we had spent the winter looking for jade, there was no time for hunting. Now we urgently need meat,” Ultsan explained the men’s sudden activity. “The hunters are here!” a call echoes through the camp. Those present immediately rush out of their tipis. Tanja and I also hurry out of our yurt. Indeed, Gamba, Ovogdorj, Tso, Hadaa and Dawd, who has recently erected his tepee about two kilometers from the camp, come riding into the camp with their heavily laden reindeer. Each of the men leads their animals to their own tipi where the women immediately help them unload. “They’ve shot two moose,” the positive news spreads like wildfire. “Moose?” I ask. “Yes, there’s a lot of meat. The elk is the largest animal in Mongolia,” Tsaya explains to me. “But surely a camel is bigger and heavier,” I reply. “No, moose are bigger and heavier. A moose is as big as an elephant,” she says with irrefutable certainty. “Has she ever seen an elephant?” I ask myself. “Well, you’re exaggerating a little,” I reply cautiously. “An elk is at least as high as your yurt,” she explains confidently. Because I don’t want to come across as a know-it-all, I’ll refrain from saying that some African elephant bulls can reach a height at the withers of up to 4.5 meters and weigh up to 6 tons. Later, however, Tsaya’s statement was confirmed to be correct: the elk, with its maximum shoulder height of up to 235 centimeters and a weight of up to 825 kilograms, is actually larger and heavier than the Mongolian camel.

When the men and women unload the frozen lumps of meat from the reindeer and stow them on the wallan (high stand), the clan is supplied with meat for a while. Elk meat is immediately cooked in every tipi. It is almost completely fat-free at this time of year and tastes excellent. “Finally, meat without fat”, I say happily as Purvee places a tin bowl full of cooked elk meat in front of us and serves us a bowl of tea with reindeer milk.

“What did you do with the fur? Surely you can sell it well?” I want to know. “The fur is worth nothing in spring. We left it in the forest,” says Ovogdorj. “Why isn’t it worth anything?” I wonder “In spring, the animals lose their winter coat. It sheds a lot. Winter fur, on the other hand, is valuable.” “And the antlers? Surely an elk has huge antlers? Surely you can use them for the horn carvings you sell to tourists in summer?” I continue to ask. “Ha, ha, that’s right, the elk’s antlers had a wingspan of almost two meters. But they’re not suitable for carving. It’s far too hard,” explains Ovogdorj.

The next day, there is excitement in the camp again. This time Ultsan and Sansar return from their hunt. Everyone wants to know if they were successful too. In fact, they killed two gazelles. At lunchtime I visit Tsaya and Ultsan in their log cabin, just to ask if they now know which day we are going to spring camp? “Soon,” Ultsan replies. “Uh, what’s soon?” I try to find out because the tribe has been talking about the upcoming move for many days. “It’s hard to say. We’ll leave when we leave. But on April 20 at the latest.” I am satisfied with the answer as it is obviously impossible to find out an exact date. The day of departure wouldn’t really matter if it weren’t for the need to organize the transport of our yurt and the dramatic shortage of snow. Bilgee and Tanja climb higher up the mountains every day to fill their sacks. “No problem. If necessary, we’ll go all the way to the summit,” says Bilgee confidently as always.

“We’ve just cooked gazelle. Please sit down with us and enjoy it,” Tsaya offers me a seat. Cooked bones and meat are piled up on a wooden board on the floor. “Here, take this,” Ultsan hands me a piece. “What’s that?” I ask. “The heart. It tastes good. Try it,” he says because I hesitate. “Gazelle heart. I’ve never eaten anything like it. You have to understand. I’m a semi-vegetarian. Offal is normally an abomination to me,’ I reply and cut off a piece of the heart. “Hmm, really tasty”, I praise and mean it as I try the first bite. “Have some more of the soup. We let it cook extra long on your advice. The broth tastes fantastic,’ says Tsaya. Yesterday she stuffed herself with elk meat and came into our yurt moaning and complaining. “What’s wrong?” I asked. “Oh, I’ve eaten at least a kilo of elk. I’m not feeling well at all.” “No wonder. Too much is too much,” I replied. “I know. I urgently need to lose weight. At 83 kilograms and 170 centimetres tall, I have at least 20 kilograms too much on my ribs,” she said, looking sad. “It’s not good for a person with a heart condition. You should change your diet,” I replied diplomatically. “Change your diet? How am I supposed to do that in the taiga?” “It’s certainly not easy. But you could reduce the fat, eat less meat, don’t eat boortsog fried in oil and, above all, don’t eat after 6 pm. That would change a lot,” I suggest. Tsaya was very interested and we talked for hours about dietary changes and the many ways to lose weight. Since then we have been her mentors, at least that’s what she calls us now. Before I leave the baishin again, Ultsan gives me the hind leg of a gazelle. I look at him in amazement. “But I can’t accept that, can I?” I say. “Yes, yes, please take it,” he says kindly. “You need your meat for yourselves, don’t you?” I make another attempt to refuse the generous gift. “The gods of nature give us food. It is our duty to share it. If we don’t, the gods will be angry with us and won’t give us so many gifts in the future,” he replies, to which I thank him several times, take the club and immediately place it on the wall to freeze it.

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