176 THE POLAR WORLD. 



tliat she was like a 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, acquired by industry and economy, 

 in the education of his gifted daughter. The IspraAvnik, a young Pole of insin- 

 uating manners, having gained her affections, she had accompanied him to Ish- 

 emsk as his wife. 



From what Castren had told her three years since about liis 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 father, 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 6000 versts.* 



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

 to proceed northward, for the purpose of becoming acquainted with 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 Turuchansk, 

 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 aj)pearance, the cold north wind swept away the leaves from 

 the trees, the fishermen retired to the woods, and the ducks and geese pi*epai-ed 

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

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

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

 flow so languidly, that when 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 willows on the left 

 l)ank, and the firs on the right ; the ice-blocks, surviving memorials of the last 

 winter, which the 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 365 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 even 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 Avail, that he was often obliged to write by the light of a resi- 

 nous torch in the middle of the day. 



The flame flickering 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 difficult. Although the roof had been repaired, yet during every 

 strong rain — and it rained almost perpetually — he Avas obliged to pack up his 

 papers, and to protect himself from the Avet 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. 



