On a foray into the steppes of Tibet, Wayne Persons and Mac Sawyer accompanied M.G. Above the timberline was sagebrush with wide plains surrounded by mountains. They rode for several days without seeing anyone. Then, while coming down a mountainside, they spied another group of travelers headed in their direction.

The appearance of such a group inevitably spelled danger. The men knew they must be on guard because there was no law enforcement for protection. Usually a rider carried a rifle strapped over his back. The band of missionaries saw the glint of a gun barrel shining in the sun. They tried to skirt the plain, putting distance between them and the approaching riders.

Suddenly a shot rang out and a bullet whizzed over the missionaries’ heads. They understood this to be a warning and a show of power. They immediately picked up speed to avoid a confrontation. However, it was evident that they were being pursued, so they stopped and dismounted.

As the bandits approached, the missionaries tied back the reins and the lead ropes onto their horses so that the animals would be more difficult to catch, and with a whack sent them galloping off in different directions. The bandits arrived, faced the men, and M.G. began negotiations. He tried various tactics to buy their way out by using the names of high-ranking officials and monks of the monastery to intimidate them. This prolonged the impending robbery.

However, the missionaries found themselves being stripped of their clothes, and they knew freezing temperatures would accompany nightfall. They desperately looked for some evidence of God’s deliverance. As their big sheepskin garments were being loaded onto a tethered horse, M.G.’s mind began adjusting to the new developments. They would be walking, not riding. He glanced at their packhorse with the tent, kettle and food, and he knew it would be a cold night sleeping on the frosty ground with the temperature in the 20’s or 30’s. To solve that problem they could walk all night and be home by the next evening. How difficult would it be to walk in the darkness? Would there be moonlight? How could they see across the valley to determine a route that would lead them in the right direction so they could negotiate the next mountain?

He knew about the streams and rivers they would have to cross by foot instead of horseback. This would be extremely dangerous. There was a solution, but they would need a thirty or forty foot rope to carry it out. One person would go up river, stand on the bank and hold the end of the rope, while a second person, holding the other end, would cross through the deep water. When that person arrived on the other side, the anchor man would pull the rope back for the next person. The last one must hold the rope up river on the other side so the anchor man could cross. The rope would serve to steady the person and even to pull him to shore should he lose his footing and be swept away in the current. Using these methods with God’s help, they might still make it back.

Suddenly M.G.’s reverie was interrupted when he recognized a Tibetan who had probably stayed in the back purposely. He said to him loudly so everyone could hear, “Hey, I know you. You were in my house in Labrang. I gave you tea and tsamba in my guest room and showed you my electric lights with the pull string, and a talking box.”

This turned the tide! According to Tibetan custom, “Once a friend, always a friend” must be respected. After some very awkward moments, the bandits returned everything they had taken: clothes, horses, and guns, along with the pack horse. The missionaries strapped on their guns, mounted their horses and bade farewell, inviting the robbers to come and visit them in Labrang.

As the men rode off, thanking God for His deliverance and protection, M.G. recalled an episode that occurred on the China side of the border. A string of animals approached a narrow ledge beside water. One of the horses stopped for a drink and stepped into the water up to its knees. When he plunged his muzzle into the water, the next animal bumped him in the rear. His load sent the horse tumbling into the water and he disappeared, baggage and all. M.G. plodded along on his horse and scanned the river, wondering where the horse might be taken by that rushing current. He turned in the saddle, looked downstream, and took a few more steps. Suddenly on the other side he saw two legs and a head struggling. With an effort its back end appeared and the horse stood up in knee-deep water without a trace of his load, halter or strap. He splashed out of the water, stopped, spread his legs in card table fashion, and shook vigorously, creating a halo of water shining in the sun. Then he casually ambled into the meadow and began grazing!