A SUMMER ON THE YENESEI 245 



conversation it was to blacken the characters of his 

 acquaintance, and we were very glad that he was to 

 spend the night elsewhere. When they had gone, and 

 we had washed up the tea-things, we spread our sheep- 

 skins on the floor. Our hostess gave us an armful of 

 splendid furs, and we slept comfortably in the kitchen, 

 or rather the Siberian members of the party did. For 

 my part, I had an inconvenient English hankering for 

 fresh air, and could not sleep in the close atmosphere 

 of the balagan. At 5 a.m. it became unbearable, so I 

 went out to finish the night on the river bank, where, 

 although chilly, the wind was at least cool and clean. 



It was a beautiful morning, and we decided to walk 

 on to the Mezenchyne balagan, whither the Siberians 

 had gone overnight ; for there were some Samoyede and 

 Yurak chooms there, and our anthropological com- 

 panions were anxious to visit them. The river bank 

 here, as on each side of the Yenesei in this district, 

 rose into a range of low mud-hills, which had been 

 scooped into all kinds of bluff and grotesque shapes 

 by centuries of flood and snowfall. A rough-legged 

 buzzard or two, soaring over the tundra, and a few stray 

 gulls, were all the bird life to be seen. The actual 

 shores of the Yenesei are curiously lonely. I often used 

 to think how much I should like to introduce a couple 

 of oyster-catchers to dabble at the water's edge, or even 

 a sandpiper or two, to give animation to the scene. 



We reached Mezenchyne a little after midday. It 

 was a typical summer station, with two small balagans 

 and three chooms pitched close to the beach. Nets 

 were spread out to dry everywhere, and heaps of fish 



