THE HEATHEN OSTIAKS. 439' 



the meal to an end. "But when the desire for food and drink is 

 appeased" the spirit also longs for satisfaction, and the musician 

 with harp or zither of his own manufacture is eagerly welcomed, 

 whether to play one of their strange, old, indescribable melodies, or 

 an accompaniment to the quaint dance of the women, in which they 

 raise themselves and sink again, throw one arm round the other, 

 stretch both out, and drop them to their sides. These amusements 

 last until the mosquito-curtain is prepared, then here, too, old and 

 young disappear beneath its folds. 



The summer is past, and winter follows the short autumn. A. 

 new activity comes into play with the migration of the birds; a- 

 new, indeed the full, true life of the Ostiaks begins with winter. 

 For the departing summer guests the treacherous net is spread. 

 Gaps are cut in the dense willow growth of the banks on the direct 

 course between two large sheets of water, and in each space is 

 spread a thin, easily-moved limed net, into which fly not only 

 ducks, but geese, swans, and cranes. These are welcome booty, both 

 on account of flesh and feathers, for birds of all kinds form a 

 considerable portion of the food not only of the Ostiaks but 

 of all the dwellers in the river -basin. At the time when the 

 bird-catcher begins his work the nomad herdsman sets out on the 

 chase, and sets his fall-traps in the tundra for the red and Arctic 

 foxes, or in the forest, in company with his more settled relatives, 

 he sets snares, spring-bows, and self-acting cross-bows for wolves 

 and foxes, sables and ermines, gluttons and squirrels. If snow has 

 fallen, the experienced huntsman buckles on his snow-shoes, puts 

 on his snow-spectacles, and betakes himself with his fleet dog to 

 the tundra or the forest to seek out the bear in his den, to follow 

 the track of the lynx, to chase the elk and the wild reindeer, now 

 impeded by the snow, which will not bear their weight though it 

 bears the huntsman's. He has never lied, never sworn falsely by 

 the bear's tooth, never done a wrong, and the bear is therefore 

 powerless against him, the elk and the reindeer are not fleet enough 

 to escape him ! When a bear has been shot he returns triumphantly 

 to the village, neighbours and friends gather round him in the 

 tshum, rejoicing, and as the general jubilation infects him, he slips 



