214 A SUMMER ON THE YENESEl 



seemed like a haven of refuge — almost homelike ; and 

 we pushed aside the door flap and crept inside gladly. 

 A bright fire was burning in the middle of the floor, and 

 beside the fire sat old Maria Sotnikoff", the mother of our 

 three guides. Although she sat cross-legged upon a 

 heap of hides, and all her household goods would have 

 packed easily into the old wooden coff'er beside her ; 

 and although her choom was suddenly called upon to 

 house just twice as many people as it was designed to 

 hold, no gentlewoman in civilised lands could have 

 received her unexpected guests with more courtesy and 

 composure than did Madame Sotnikoff". She graciously 

 shook hands with each of us in turn, and although she 

 understood little Russian, and was too deaf to hear our 

 greetings, she smiled at us kindly, and pointed out our 

 quarters for the night — the guest-chamber, so to speak — 

 which was that half of the choom which lay to the left 

 of the doorway. Meanwhile, the three brothers, who had 

 waited behind to unharness the deer, came in, and we 

 all gathered round the fire for supper. But first of all 

 Maria took her sons' wet outer garments and hung them 

 up to dry. Later, as we waited for the kettle to boil, 

 I watched our hostess across the hearth, and I could not 

 help admiring the methodical way in which she set her 

 primitive house in order. I have not often seen greater 

 neatness and precision in far more pretentious rooms in 

 Europe. First of all she took the little squat table that is 

 found in most of the cliooms along the Yenesei, and 

 dusted it carefully. On this she set three pink cups 

 and saucers of cheap Russian crockery. In my ignorance, 

 before visiting the Yenesei I had believed that saucers 



