CHAPTER XXIII. 

 Down the Black Irtish Valley to the Siberlan Frontier. 



On January ist, everything being ready, I started for Zaisan, 

 having sent a man two days before to bring in news of Giyani. 

 He had arrived the previous night with information that the 

 latter was better. It was late in the morning of New Year's 

 Day before I left Shara Sumbe, and the two horses could only 

 with great difficulty struggle through the deep snow. "When dark- 

 ness fell we were still several miles from the encampment, and it 

 looked as though we should be compelled to spend the night 

 on the bleak and windswept plain. Once in going over a steep 

 sandbank my crazy vehicle collapsed and, rolling down hill, 

 turned completely over, myself underneath, the horses kicking 

 and struggling, altogether not a pleasant experience for one 

 frost bitten and unable to move hand or foot. Luckily I escaped 

 with nothing more than a severe shaking. Rasul and the others 

 were able to patch the tarantass up, and we went on for another 

 two miles when it broke down again in a deep ditch and threw 

 me out. Still undaunted the noble army of martyrs got to 

 work again and with rope tied up the front axle, which had 

 split in the centre. I started once more but within less than 

 another half hour it smashed again with a sickening bump in 

 a deep depression in the ground, which the darkness had pre- 

 vented the driver seeing. I had had quite enough of it for 

 one day so compassed the rest of the distance to the Kazak 

 encampment on foot supported between Rasul and one of the 

 Mongol soldiers. 



Across the plain we had heard answering calls in response 

 to our shouts and presently saw the flicker of a light which 



