176 THE POLAR WORLD. 



that she was like n flower born to blush unseen in the desert. Remarkably elo- 

 quent, she was no less talented in expressing her thoughts by writing ; and yet 

 she was only the daughter of a serf who had been exiled to Krasnojarsk, and 

 had spent a great part of a small property, accpili-ed by industry and economy, 

 in tlie education of liis gifted daugliter. Tlie Isprawnik, a young Pole of insin- 

 uating manners, having gained her affections, she had accom|)auied him to Ish- 

 emsk as his wife. 



From wliat Castren had told her three years since about his future plans, she 

 knew that he would probably arrive about this time at Krasnojarsk, and had 

 written a letter, which reached its destination only a few hours before him. It 

 was to her fatlier, earnestly begging him to pay every attention to the homeless 

 stranger. The feelings of Castren may easily be imagined when the old man 

 knocked at his door, and brought him these friendly greetings from a distance 

 of GOOO versts.* 



But his stay at Krasnojarsk was not of long duration, for he was impatient 

 to proceed northward, for the purpose of becoming acquainted Avith the tribes 

 dwelling along the Jenissei, after having studied their brethern of the Obi. From. 

 June till the end of July, his literary pursuits detained him at Turuchausk, 

 where, in the vicinity of the Arctic Circle, he had much to suffer from the heat 

 and the mosquitoes. In the beginning of August the signs of approaching 

 winter made their appearance, the cold north wind swept away the leaves from 

 the trees, the fishermen retired to the woods, and the ducks and geese prepared 

 to migrate to the south. And now Castren also took leave of Turuchansk — not 

 however, like the birds, for a more sunny region, but to bury himself still deep- 

 er in the northern wilds of the Jenissei. Below Turuchansk the river begins to 

 flow so languidly, that Avhcn the wind is contrary, the boat must be dragged 

 along by dogs, and advances no more than from five to ten versts during a 

 Avhole day. Thus the traveller has full time to notice the Avillows on the left 

 bank, and the firs on the right ; the ice-blocks, surviving memorials of the last 

 winter, which tiie spring inundations have left here and there on the banks of 

 the vast stream; and the countless troops of wild birds that fly with loud 

 clamor over his head. 



About 3G5 versts below Turuchansk is situated Plachina,the fishing-station 

 of a small tribe of Samoiedes, among whom Castren tarried three weeks. He 

 had taken possession of the best of the three huts of which the place consisted, 

 but oven this would have been perfectly intolerable to any one but our zealous 

 ethnologist. Into his study the daylight penetrated so sparingly through a 

 small hole in the wall, that he was often obliged to write by the light of a resi- 

 nous torch in the middle of the day. 



The flame flickei-ing in the wind, which blew through a thousand crevices, af- 

 fected his eyes no less severely than the smoke, which at the same time render- 

 ed respiration difticult. Although the roof had been repaired, yet during every 

 strong rain — and it rained almost perpetually — he was obliged to pack up liis 

 papers, and to protect himself from the wet as if he had been in the open air. 

 From this delightful residence, Castren, still pursuing his study of the Samoi- 



* The verst is about three-fifths of a mile. 



