TO THE HOLY HILLS 357 



' My glass has gone up so steadily from 29*2 in. to 

 29 '6 in. that, taking that and the sky together, I felt I 

 might venture on a prophecy. " To-morrow," I said, 

 " it will be fine. Let the bolvan be." And for that 

 time they were content. Only it blows at present as 

 hard as ever, and whenever I 00 on deck down the 

 wind comes the mocking - long-drawn howl of Tima Fe, 

 " England far away. Far, far away ! " till I could shoot 

 him for a raven.' 



September i^.-'NW r . Calm. Fog. Bar. 297 in.' So 

 I had scored up to a certain point ; the wind was fair but 

 the fog was thick. Alexander, who burnt much incense 

 to-day, seemed to have forgotten the bolvan. So they 

 hold this poor little idol responsible for storms, but not 

 for fogs. Reputations are easily won. I seem to be 

 suddenly established as a good weather-prophet. They 

 actually came and asked me to-day whether we should 

 be able to leave to-morrow. It is pretty risky to pro- 

 phesy about Kolguev weather, but thinking that, if once 

 we started, we should get to land somehow, and that 

 we knew as much about it as we were likely to know, 

 I answered boldly, ' Certainly.' 



September iSt/i.— (Michaelmas Day, old style). Foggy, 

 with the barometer at 297 in., but showing a tendency 



had said, 'Do you worship St. Nicholas?' 'No.' 'Ah, not Christians.' ' Oh yes, 

 Christians. ' ' Why, how is that ? Have you God ? ' ' Yes. ' 'And Christ ? ' 'Oh 

 yes, of course we have Christ.' Ah,' said Yakoff, 'Turks.' This was a grand dis* 

 covery ; after that we were always Turks. 



