A SUMMER ON THE YENESEI 39 



chiff-chafF, but, for the most part, the forest was as silent 

 as a church, and nearly as uninteresting from an 

 ornithological point of view. 



I had reckoned that in order to hit off the steamer 

 we ought to walk in a south-westerly direction, but 

 after we had wandered on for more than an hour I 

 began to be rather anxious, and appealed to Vassilli. 

 He, however, was quite confident, and explained by 

 signs that the steamer was ahead of us. Wherever he 

 goes, a man is taken at his own valuation. Vassilli 

 rated himself very highly indeed, and consequently, at 

 first at all events, we had much respect for his judg- 

 ment and capabilities. Accordingly I followed him 

 for another mile towards the south - west, although 

 with increased misgivings. Twice I tried a southerly 

 direction, but each time he insisted with emphatic 

 gestures that we ought to walk straight ahead. The 

 forest was undulating, and at each ridge I expected to 

 see the Yenesei, but each time only another immense 

 vista of tree-tops met the eye. Vassilli began to lag 

 and cast doubtful glances round him, and when I next 

 turned to him he merely shrugged his shoulders and 

 threw up his eyes in despair. I then realised that we 

 had fairly lost our bearings in a forest some seven 

 thousand versts long by fifteen hundred wide. I think 

 that the faculty of direction, or orientation, or whatever 

 one may call it, must fill a very large place in the human 

 mind, because, when it is lost, the feeling is one of such 

 utter helplessness. You pooh-pooh the idea that you 

 have really gone astray, but at the same time you have 

 an insane wish to go on walking somewhere, no matter 



