OVER THE GREAT CHAIN 245 



think, until we learn to place education before religion, 

 since we know they do not always go hand in hand. 



The entire village left off doing nothing to come and 

 look at us. The feminine element were all clad in the 

 hottest shade of red, and big blue and white aprons. 

 One old lady, after inspecting us from every side, from 

 every hillock of vantage, said something dehghtedly 

 and clapped her hands as if in applause, though where- 

 fore I cannot tell. It could not have been our personal 

 appearance, which can only be described as dirty in 

 the extreme. Whatever it was it seemed a most 

 charming greeting, with its subtle touch of flattery. 

 Of course, a pessimist might have taken it differently. 



Never did I see so many pigeons congregated together 

 as the vast flocks which devastated and despoiled 

 this village. They toddled through the crowd hke 

 chickens, perched everywhere, dominated everything. 

 All this because the bird is sacred to the Russian 

 peasant. He will tell you it is not so, that the pagan 

 days when pigeons were sacred to Perun, the god of 

 thunder, have long since passed ; but the bird is im- 

 mune for all that, and no moujik, however hungry, will 

 tackle one for dinner. The shadow of the Cross has 

 more or less obhterated Perun, but the mantle of the 

 Spirit has descended on another. By some system of 

 mental jugglery the ubiquitous pigeon is now con- 

 secrated to St. Nicholas, or, as some say, to St. Elias, 

 the peasant's weather prophet. 



The Starshina asked us into his abode, which had a 

 decided hst to starboard, and, hke a doll's house, its 

 front, being very dilapidated, was practically open to 



