DAYS IN CAMP 275 
by stage, until at last it was about forty paces away. At 
this distance Mekolka made very fair practice. Whether 
the peg was hit or no, his arrows were nearly always 
sufficiently near to have transfixed a goose had one been 
there. Of course it was absolutely nothing in the way 
of archery; but one could quite understand how a 
prowling Samoyed could creep upon his quarry, and 
secure it by these simple means. 
Then we threw the di-zha. They were far and away 
better than we were at this; and shouts of laughter 
greeted my feeble efforts to entangle the stump. Nothing 
could exceed the patience with which they tried to teach 
the proper method ; the gathering it up in the hand; the 
swing, the throw, the drawing tight. Just as a cowboy 
at the moment of noosing a bullock turns his broncho 
to resist the strain, so in many cases the Samoyed turns 
his back to the struggling deer, bringing the di-zha across 
his thigh. But not when he has a very wild or strong 
beast to tackle. In this case he yields very gradually, 
contesting every inch and letting out the six or seven 
yards of the spare end of the di-zha, which always trails 
on the ground, until one of his fellows comes to help. 
At last I caught the stump. 
‘Good, very good, yes, yes,’ cried Mekolka; ‘Hylum, 
Ahnglia soon very good. All winter in choom on Kol- 
guev. Hylum, Ahnglia soon Samoyed. Yes, yes.’ 
‘No, Mekolka,’ I laughed; ‘soon leave Kolguev. Go 
with Russians; England very soon now.’ At which 
