242 A SUMMER ON THE YENESEI 



his shoulder. In less time than it takes to tell it, the 

 pole was transformed into a mast, and an old tarpaulin, 

 purloined from the store, made a square sail. Not only 

 that, but Joseph pressed into our service Micha, the 

 chubby-faced youth from the fish station, who was only 

 too glad to earn a holiday by taking an oar. 



Once out on the Yenesei the wind freshened, and 

 we were able to sail nearly all the way. Indeed, the 

 river was more choppy than some of the party found 

 quite pleasant ; but the waves, which had looked so 

 formidable on our voyage from Och Marino in Antonofi"s 

 canoe, seemed nothing at all in Prokopchuk's unwieldy 

 lodka. Once or twice, as we luffed, some water slapped 

 over the gunwale, but the only thing that was really 

 wetted was Vassilli's coat. As he and his possessions 

 were by his own care or good fortune generally exempt 

 from the accidents which befell those of the rest of us, 

 I looked to see what he was doing. He, however, was 

 lounging in the bows of the boat, singing sentimental 

 songs to himself and snugly wrapped up in the sheep- 

 skin of Joseph Gerasimvitch. For that was the way of 

 Vassilli. The common misfortunes of other mortals 

 never affected him. I believe that even the brimstone 

 of Gomorrah would have run from him as water runs 

 from off a duck's back. Under all circumstances Vassilli 

 slipped into the warmest and driest place, and the 

 astonishing part of it was that, sooner or later, you 

 yourself began likewise to indulge him. 



About eleven o'clock in the evening, Joseph put the 

 helm over and turned inshore. A broad and shallow 

 river flowed down from the tundra, and at its mouth, 



