A SUMMER ON THE YENESEI 205 



on his desert island. But in a day or two, you realise 

 that, on the contrary, the tundra is a place with many 

 highways, and a deal of trafl&cking. Sometimes, as 

 you trudge across a sphagnum bog, and believe yourself 

 to be all alone except for the golden plover, you hear a 

 long, low ai-aie, and over the ridge comes a little 

 sledge, drawn by reindeer and guided by one of the 

 little tundra men. It skims smoothly over the moss, 

 and disappears swiftly and silently from view. 

 Presently you realise that where you are standing is 

 not really a solitary place at all. It is part of a 

 country, which is as exhaustively mapped and charted 

 as any in the world. And each day, as you look at 

 its shrouded, quivering horizon, you want to thrust 

 it back farther from the limit of your knowledge, and 

 long to learn a portion, however meagre, of its secrets. 



Unfortunately, however, travelling in the tundra 

 is difficult during the summer. The only possible way 

 of crossing it is by sledge ; and in the hot weather, the 

 natives are unwilling to work their deer, for the animals 

 are then moulting their coats and are liable to be galled 

 by the harness. Most of the herds are taken far out 

 into the tundra for pasturage, and only now and then 

 does a team visit the banks of the river. Therefore, 

 for nearly three weeks after our arrival at Golchika, 

 1 could only explore the surrounding country on foot ; 

 and, wandering on from one rolling ridge to another, 

 gaze impotently at the mysterious distance and vainly 

 long to reach it. 



Then at last a chance came. It may be remembered 

 that on our excursion up the Golchika, Vassilli and I 



