30 SLEDGING TO UST-ZYLMA 



we found the room occupied by a party, and the samovar 

 in full operation. Fancying that some of the party looked 

 English, I inquired if any of them spoke German, and 

 the least Russian-looking gentleman among them replied 

 that he did. I informed him that we were Englishmen, 

 travelling from London to the Petchora, and I added 

 that we were glad to find some one on the route with 

 whom we could converse. I then asked him if he and 

 his party were also travelling. He replied that they were 

 stationed there for some time. I then asked if his name 

 was Rosenthal. He said it was, and a hearty laugh 

 followed at the success of my guess. We enjoyed his 

 astonishment for some time, and then explained that we 

 had been told by the Ispravnik at Mezen that there was 

 only one man in the district who could speak German, 

 the forest engineer, Herr Rosenthal. We spent an hour 

 pleasantly together. Like every one we met who had 

 not been to the Petchora, he exaggerated the dangers 

 and difficulties of the journey. He was engaged in 

 measuring the timber felled on Rusanoffs concession on 

 behalf of the Russian Government, who receive so much 

 per tree according to the quantity of available wood in it. 

 On the other hand, it is possible that we may have 

 under-estimated the dangers and difficulties of our journey, 

 seeing we had the good luck to pull through them so 

 well. The roads were certainly giving way, and it may 

 have been a happy accident in our favour that the 

 weather changed again when it did. On one occasion 

 the crust of snow not being firm enough to support the 

 horses, they all three suddenly sank up to their bellies. 

 Of course they were utterly helpless. We feared for a 

 moment that our journey had suddenly come to an end 

 and that we had hopelessly stuck fast. We alighted 

 from the sledge, which had not sunk in the snow. The 



