298 ICE-BOUND ON KOLGUEV 
A Samoyed has not room on his little sleigh for very 
much besides himself, but three things he never moves 
without—his rifle, his axe, and his sovik. 
His rifle is bound to the sleigh. Every Samoyed has 
an old flint-lock rifle besides his bow and arrow. The 
bullets he himself makes in an ingeniously-made mould 
formed of stone set in a wooden pair of scissors. His 
axe is of the Russian pattern, with a nail extractor on it. 
The sovik I have described. He sits on it, and wears it 
at night when sleeping on the ground. 
So Uano and I went down to Scharok. I was driving 
by far the finer team, none the less Uano, as the better 
Jehu, more than held his own. He could get more work 
out of his deer, by some silent skill I could not com- 
prehend, than I out of mine, with all my prodding and 
noise. 
Arrived at Scharok I was delighted to find the ice 
entirely disappeared. I fixed high up on a pole the two 
yards of red flannel I brought for a faja or kummerbund, 
and there it waved, a noble flag. Also I wrote a second 
note to Powys, and nailed it on the flag-staff, where I 
thought it might be better seen. 
Visiting the site of our camp I was disagreeably sur- 
prised to find that a fox had scratched a passage into the 
cache and dragged out several of the brent. I did not 
mind that, but was sorry only that he had let in dorn- 
daftsa, the blue-bottle fly. So I set two traps to take 
him there. 
