LOST IX THE FOREST 355 



to the song- of the fieldfare. The call-note of this bird, 

 tsik-tsak, is continually heard, but the song seems con- 

 fined to the pairing season ; it is a low warble, scarcely 

 deserving to be called melodious. 



The excitement of the chase, the appearance of 

 species new to my list, and the abundance of bird-life 

 generally, caused me to forget that time was flying. 

 The difference between day and night in these latitudes 

 at this season of the year is so small that I failed to 

 notice that it ought to be evening, and that the sun must 

 before very long prepare to dip below the horizon for an 

 hour or so, until other sensations reminded me that it 

 must be long past dinner-time. I looked at my watch, 

 was astonished to find it so late, took out my compass, 

 for the sky was overcast, and steered due east with the 

 intention of striking the Yenesei and of following the 

 course of its banks until I reached the villaoe. Before 

 long I caught a glimpse of a sheet of water through the 

 trees, but on reaching the shore I was astonished to find 

 that it was not the Yenesei. Though it stretched nearly 

 north and south as far as the eye could reach, it had little 

 or no stream, and was not more than half a mile wide. 

 Now the Yenesei had a current of at least four miles an 

 hour, and was three miles wide. I climbed up a tree in 

 the hope that a distant view of the great river might be 

 thus obtained, but it was of no use. In every direction 

 an endless series of tree-tops stretched away to the 

 horizon. I realised the fact that I was lost in the forest 

 — a forest perhaps five thousand miles long by more than 

 a thousand miles wide. I comforted myself with the 

 reflection that it could only be a question of time, that 

 one end of the sheet of water before me must be con- 

 nected with the Yenesei, and that if I took the wrong 

 direction to-night I should nevertheless be able to find 



