242 THROUGH RUSSIA ON A MUSTANG. 



of milk from one end of Russia to the other without 

 buying it. This, among the poverty-hardened moujiks 

 was, of course, not be expected, nor desired. But in 

 i the middle of a scorching hot day, I have ridden up 

 to a nobleman's house in Southern Russia, and with a 

 voice husky from thirst inquired for milk, where there 

 was evidently no lack of an abundance of that article, 

 and received a negative answer, embittered with a 

 stare of mingled curiosity and suspicion. 



Mayhap it was all owing to their miserable suspi- 

 cions of me that their reception was so inhospitable and 

 boorish ; but, whatever the cause, it upset completely 

 all my preconceived ideas, as well as the preconceived 

 ideas of their Moscow compatriot, my companion, who 

 likewise was disappointed in this same manner north 

 of Ekaterinoslav. 



The day after being turned away from the big land- 

 owner's door to pass the night supperless on the 

 steppe, I reached a wayside traktir. The principal 

 article of consumption there was vodka, and the cus- 

 tomers were a mixed company of Russian and Tartar 

 shepherds. Besides vodka were black bread and the 

 inevitable barrel of cucumbers in brine. These precious 

 commodities were kept in a corner of the room which 

 was railed off from the rest by means of perpendicular 

 wooden bars. Behind these bars, looking through, like 

 a prisoner in a cell, was the proprietor, a black-whisk- 

 ered Semitic-looking gentleman, with a nose as purple 

 and ripe-looking as a luscious plum ; a nose that must 

 have cost him barrels of vodka to bring to such a state 

 of perfection ; and which was seen to singular advan< 

 tage when he thrust it through the wooden bars. 



