292 ICE-BOUND ON KOLGUEV 



scrambled across the creek, and followed the chase as well 

 as I could over the boggy ground. At last I came up to 

 find the bird had taken refuge in a little lake. Mekolka, 

 who had left his bow in the boat, was waiting for my 

 arrival. He had not thrown his parlka because I had 

 told him not to damage the feathers. 



I shot the bird. It was a Bewick swan, in full moult. 



I was glad to get these birds by way of proof. For 

 before this I only had the eggs we obtained on the 

 Kriva. 



The very bow Mekolka used to-day he had made this 

 morning from a bit of driftwood. I have it now, and his 

 curious little plane. 



When we reached camp little Wanka was playing 

 with his reindeer. There is an old reindeer, a capital 

 animal in a team, who is a perfect slave to the child. 

 He will follow him about like a dog. And Wanka 

 spends most of his day bullying this old deer. 



First of all he swaggers out, imitating most comically 

 his father's walk. Then with his little di-zha he makes 

 many shots at the old deer (who does not protest), until 

 at last he manages to get it by the horns. Then he 

 harnesses, unharnesses, and generally maltreats it hour 

 after hour. The boy is not strong enough to lift the 

 deer's legs (and that is a very important part of reindeer 

 management), but this matters little, for the old deer well 

 understands the game, and at a touch from Wanka lifts 

 its legs itself. How many times this performance is gone 



