210 A SUMMER ON THE YENESEI 



scarcely any Russian, remarked naively that he had 

 not visited the Yenesei tundra since he was a boy, and 

 had half forgotten the way to Golchika ! On another 

 occasion we were at the chooms one evening, when we 

 saw half a dozen Samoyede boys and girls just starting 

 for the tundra. Their people were herding reindeer 

 about a hundred and thirty versts away, and they were 

 going out to join them. Both boys and girls were rid- 

 ing astride the deer, and behind them, on a sledge, they 

 carried a little tea and soushki for the journey, and also 

 a canoe in case they came to a river. They were all in 

 high spirits, and neither they nor the crowd who had 

 collected to watch them start seemed to think it at all 

 unusual that a party of children, none of whom were 

 more than fifteen years of age, should thus set out alone 

 on a two days' journey into the wilderness. 



Towards six o'clock in the evening, we descended a 

 long gradual slope from the higher tundra into a river 

 valley. It was raining harder than ever, and the bitter 

 east wind seemed to drive the rain through waterproof 

 and jacket alike, and chilled us all to the bone. We 

 thought gratefully of the comparative shelter and warmth 

 of the choom, which now lay not far ahead. However, it 

 turned out that we were not to reach it as easily as we 

 expected. The river, though shallow enough, was wide, 

 and the wind, blowing with the current, drove long 

 white tongues of foam down the channel. Vassilli shook 

 his head as he dismounted from the sledge and drew 

 a little bark canoe from under the overhanging bank. 

 He first tried the ford with Miss Czaplicka, the lightest 

 of our party, behind him in the boat. 



