40 A SUMMER ON THE YENESEl 



where, just so that you may keep on the move. Your 

 instinct declares so emphatically that you are all wrong 

 that you are tempted to believe it, and turn right about, 

 although your reason says that you are all right. I 

 knew, of course, that we could not be so very far from 

 the ship, and that if the worst came to the worst we 

 could retrace our steps with a reasonable chance of 

 hitting off either one or the other of the rivers ; but 

 this would have meant spending several hours in the 

 forest, and, besides, we had twisted about so much 

 among the trees that I was by no means certain that I 

 was right. The question was, would it be best to wait 

 until the steamer hooted her departure, and trust to 

 hearing the siren, or should we go and look for her ? 

 But sound did not carry far under the trees, and there 

 was the possibility that we might have wandered beyond 

 the range of the whistle. Therefore, as Vassilli had no 

 suggestions to offer beyond the futile one that we 

 should continue to walk towards the south-west, I 

 turned back, and, much against his will, went oft' at an 

 angle to our former course. After we had gone for a 

 couple of miles we heard the sound of running water, 

 and soon came across a little ravine with a brook at the 

 bottom. Guessing that this stream must run into the 

 Yenesei, we followed it up, and soon came out on 

 the river bank. The Oryol — welcome sight — still lay 

 two or three versts downstream. Vassilli was delighted, 

 said, "I told you so" in dumb show, and insisted on 

 writing down the Russian and English words for 

 " steamer." This little adventure gave me a fright, and 

 I did not venture again upon promiscuous explorations 



