No taller than my thigh, the boy with coal-dark eyes swings himself easily onto my white horse. Feet dangling high above the stirrups, he gallops along the shore of a frozen lake, turns, rears and dismounts with a grace that brings to mind his distant ancestors--the Mongol warriors who swept across Asia.
Dang. The only thing that came to mind when I rode was the pressing need for more padding under my duff. But I was happy to be among the few Westerners who have had a taste of Mongolia, the rocky, remote north-central Asian country with few fences and fewer...
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