WHITE-TAILED EAGLE 317 



saw a fox crossing the Kureika not far from the ship. 

 The dogs caught sight of it and gave chase, but they had 

 only recently returned from a journey and were tired, and 

 the fox reached the forest without their gaining upon him. 

 The following day was another dismal one. The wind 

 shifted south, south-east, and south-west, and snow and 

 sleet fell continually. 



On Sunday we again had sunshine, with a north and 

 north-west wind, and frost in the shade. Another sign 

 of approaching summer became now observable. The 

 river must have risen considerably in consequence of the 

 melting of the snow down south. The channel round 

 the ship, which the sailors had cut out of the ice, filled 

 with water, and we came upon water after digging down 

 into the snow a couple of feet. There was no open 

 water visible, but in the centre of the river we could see 

 large discoloured patches, as if the snow was saturated 

 with water. Ornithologically the day did not prove 

 blank, for I was able to complete the identification of one 

 of my previous week's new birds. After seeing the eagle 

 on the other side of the river, I had offered five roubles 

 to the peasants if they would shoot or trap it for me. 

 At the next village, twenty versts down the river, a white- 

 tailed eagle was trapped, and a joint expedition from the 

 two villages came over to the ship in a couple of reindeer- 

 sledges to bring me the bird and claim the promised 

 reward. This I gladly paid them, as I was in hope that 

 I might in this or some other way obtain a specimen of 

 Pallas's sea-eagle. On receipt of the five roubles the 

 whole party turned into the Russian merchant's store near 

 the ship. The end of it was that during the n'ght the 

 five roubles filtered out of the pockets of my elated 

 friends, and in the morning they were all penniless and 

 dead drunk. To add to their misfortunes, the reindeer 



