This young Russian who lived in Shanghai with all its comforts and conveniences will find a decided change on the other side of the Zhara Pass. The pass itself lies alongside the Dapao and both are practically the same height. The Zhara, however, has a long stretch on the top and is not an easy pass to manipulate during the cold windy days of December or January. Some years ago a French priest was overtaken on this high pass and some of the company travelling with him called him the "son of a devil" for failing to bring a tent with him.
The scheme is to get as near the foot of the pass on this side, await a sunny day and make a dash for it. On the pass there is no habitat tion whatever so the traveller simply must get over or bivouac somewhere up in the snow. This is not Mr. Goullart's first experience along the Tibetan border. In connection with his work in the American Express he once led a party up on to the Kansu frontier. He has had considerable experience in guiding parties in different parts of the Republic and knows his China well. He has also had much experience in meeting Chinese officials and has acquired the happy art and knack of overcoming difficulties and obstacles in the distant interior with his exceedingly happy disposition.
The Sikang authorities gave him a very warm reception and have done everything to facilitate his adventure into Minya. They are anxious to secure a brand of yak butter that will meet foreign taste and if Mr. Goullart can Approaching the city in two groups they circled round as if looking for a target, and then heading for Fungchuen began to drop their loads of explosives. Again they circled round and once more bombs were dropped.
During the second raid, however, an accident happened. One pilot more daring that the others and evidently with a desire to make a direct hit on some object, flew" very Tow over the town. The anti craft guns snapped in angry defiance, and the daring plane was struck. It wobbled, tilted and then began to drop. Leaving two companions in the falling plane the pilot parachuted to earth and made a safe landing while his two companions were hurled to death when the plane struck ground. The lone survivor slowly walked over to his wrecked plane. Lighting a cigarette he nonchalantly smoked for a minute, but, as the crowds began to draw near, rather than be captured the pilot drew his revolver and shot himself through the head.
The other planes noted the accident and hovered around for some time, and then flew off. Shortly after noon three planes returned and after circling over the town for a short time dropped a wreath of fresh flowers in nour of their dead comrades.
The plane, badly wrecked, was later taken to Wuchow where it was put on exhibition on the foreshore where the milling crowds gathered rbund to view the parts and to inspect at close range one of those war machines which has struck terror to their hearts on many a day during the past twelve months or more.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.