180 A SUMMER ON THE YENESEl 



minute or two below the horizon, and we wished to 

 see him set for the first time for two months. 



On the following day I went for a long walk down 

 the shore of the Yenesei. The ostensible reason for the 

 excursion was to look for the nesting-grounds of the 

 BufFon's skua, but it was typical of many such rambles 

 that I took over the tundra and along the rivers in 

 August when the first rush of ornithological work 

 was over, and there was time to explore parts of 

 the surrounding country which had previously been 

 overlooked. 



I left home early in the morning, and crossed the 

 river to the native settlement. This, however, was 

 deserted, for all the inhabitants were out fishing. 

 Golchika Island lay at the point of a long, swampy 

 peninsula, which formed one side of a vast bay. The 

 shores of this peninsula were low and sandy, and 

 cumbered with driftwood. For more than a furlong 

 from the beach the water of the bay was scarcely knee- 

 deep, and along the shallows the boats of the natives 

 were moored for the day's fishing. They were clumsy, 

 flat-bottomed craft, hired for the season from the 

 Siberiaks. They were rowed by three short, broad-bladed 

 oars, two on one side and one on the other, and they 

 were steered, not by a tiller, but with a paddle. It 

 requires no little skill to steer a heavy Yenesei boat 

 against the wind, and the novice's first attempts gener- 

 ally result in a wonderful and ignominious succession of 

 curves backwards and forwards across the river. When 

 they go a-fishing, the Samoyedes beach the boat upon 

 some sandbank, and one or two members of the family 



