72 FROM NORTH POLE TO EQUATOR. 



the tundra for what it is: an immeasurable and unchangeable ice- 

 vault which has endured, and will continue to endure, for hundreds 

 of thousands of years. That it has thus endured is proved indisput- 

 ably by the remains of prehistoric animals embedded in it, and thus 

 preserved for us. In 1807 Adams dug from the ice of the tundras 

 the giant mammoth, with whose flesh the dogs of the Yakuts sated 

 their hunger, although it must have died many thousands of years 

 before, for the race became extinct in the incalculably distant past. 

 The icy tundra had faithfully preserved the carcase of this primitive 

 elephant all through these hundreds of thousands of years. 8 



Many similar animals, and others of a more modern time, are 

 embedded in the ice, though it is not to be supposed that the tundra 

 was ever able to sustain a much richer fauna than it has now. 

 Bison and musk-ox traversed it long after the time of the mammoth; 

 giant-elk and moose belonged to it once. Now its animal life is as 

 poor and monotonous as its vegetation as itself. This holds true, 

 however, only with regard to species, not to individuals, for the 

 tundra is, at least in summer, the home of numerous animals. 



The year is well advanced before the tundra begins to be visibly 

 peopled. Of the species which never leave it one sees very little in 

 winter. The fish which ascend its rivers from the sea are concealed 

 by the ice; the mammals and birds which winter in it are hidden by 

 the snow, under which they live, or whose colour they wear. Not 

 until the snow begins to melt on the southern slopes does the animal 

 life begin to stir. Hesitatingly the summer visitors make their ap- 

 pearance. The wolf follows the wild reindeer, the army of summer 

 birds follows the drifting ice blocks on the streams. Some of the 

 birds remain still undecided in the regions to the South, behave as if 

 they would breed there, then suddenly disappear from their resting- 

 place by the way, fly hastily to the tundra, begin to build directly 

 on their arrival, lay their eggs, and brood eagerly, as though they 

 wished to make up for the time gained by their relatives in the 

 South. Their summer life is compressed into few weeks. They 

 arrive already united, paired for life, or at least for the summer; their 

 hearts stirred by all-powerful love, they proceed, singing and rejoic- 

 ing, to build a nest; unceasingly they give themselves up to their 



