250 A SUMMER ON THE YENESEI 



ingly they had been banished to the bathhouse. Hence 

 the mysterious snoring outside. But Vassilli had pointed 

 out that, as our servant, he must be above suspicion ; 

 and therefore he had enjoyed the warm kitchen all by 

 himself, while the rest of the party were either crowded 

 into one room, or slept in the bathhouse or on the 

 river-bank, as necessity or inclination drove them. 



While we were wondering how to pass the time 

 until breakfast, our hostess came into the kitchen. 

 We were surprised to see her astir so early, and were 

 still more surprised, and sorry too, to find that she 

 had spent the previous day in making bread for us, 

 and had come out at this hour to attend to her baking. 

 In vain did we assure her that we had brought plenty 

 of food for our party. She would take no refusal until 

 we had breakfasted off the very best fish pirog that 

 we ever tasted. We made her join us, but she had 

 scarcely eaten a morsel before the children awoke, and 

 her day's work began by the washing and dressing of 

 all five. 



The tragedy of the women in those Siberian 

 balagans has still to be written. The lot of the over- 

 worked wife and mother in civilised lands is hard 

 enough ; but there at least she may sometimes have 

 the luxury of a good grumble with a sympathetic 

 neighbour. But these women in the wooden huts of 

 the Yenesei never see another white woman from 

 month's end to month's end, and the loneliness and 

 monotony of their lives must be terrible. This woman 

 had already five little children, all under seven years 

 old, and a sixth would soon be born, In the summer- 



