A SUMMER ON THE YENESEI 225 



jumped up right in our path, and I caught sight of a 

 downy youngster dodging through the grass. Without 

 taking my eye from the spot, I leaped off the sledge, to 

 the amazement of our pilot, Vassilli, who thought that 

 I had suddenly gone mad ; and after a short chase, 

 succeeded in capturing a couple of young curlew-sand- 

 pipers in down, the first that, to my knowledge, have 

 been taken by an English ornithologist. A little farther 

 on, by some scrub willows, where the deer halted for a 

 breather, I shot three ptarmigan, the only ones secured 

 during the trip. They were very tame, and the report 

 of the gunshot that sealed their comrades' fate only 

 caused them to crane their necks inquiringly. 



By and by we reached the bank of a small river. 

 On the farther side was a bog, in the midst of which, 

 like a gem in an ample setting, was a small lake — the 

 goose nursery. Vassilli took the canoe, and drove the 

 deer into the stream. They were glad enough to swim 

 and drink, for the poor things were very hot ; and 

 Ouss, who had run all the way behind the sledges, was 

 panting like a steam-engine under the weight of his 

 thick pelt. Arrived on the other bank, we sprang on 

 to the sledges and drove off at full gallop over the bog, 

 in order to take the geese by surprise and cut them off 

 from the water. At the other side of the lake was a 

 slope of rising ground, and down this, three or four 

 broods were already waddling to the lake. Nicolai 

 tumbled off his sledge and, shouting to me to follow him, 

 he ran off with Ouss scampering at his heels. He 

 easily beat me in the race, for the shores of the mere 

 were spongy with sphagnum, and I soon dropped into a 

 '5 



