Orosvois’ shack is square in shape. A log cabin on the edge of the forest. The floor, when studies after a shot or two of vodka, is most uneven.  Divided into a carpeted section at the back and a wood panel floor at the front, the carpet is like the relief of the rough steppe. After all, that is where we are.  After the second bottle of vodka is cracked, a heated discussion ensues.

Not far from here there is a stone formation, which changes all the time. From day to day the stones move. No one knows who moves them, it is a mystery. They believe that a supernatural force is at work here. That maybe it is the chotgor.

They say chotgor and yeti are the same. Yeti flies like a bird in the night making strange screaming sounds. In the year of 1982, the year Orosvoi married his wife, they were near Tengis tourist camp theye heard it.

As Orosvoi repacks his root-hewn pipe, the men talk of the stones as having divining powers. If you see colourful stones the future is good, if you see none. Then nothing.  He is hunched under a deel with a small torch studying a precious stone. Rising from the deel he coughs up a lungful of phlegm and necks another shot.

Orosvoi is trading in precious stones. a kind of transparent rock called khash which the Chinese use to make jewellery with medicinal properties. tomorrow we ride for he Russian border in search of these rocks. Spirits are high. There will be six of us .   Orosvoi and his son, Ghandii, Batmunkh, tuc and myself.

Tareg is served. It is a delicious natural yoghurt made from curd. Orosvoi’s speech sounds close to a song. He is drunk on vodka and happy.