LYING UP FOR GEESE 79 



the rifles came within range, but with no better result ; 

 after which the swans flew right away. 



We then visited a small lake close to the banks of the 

 Petchora, but it was completely ice-bound, and declared 

 to be niet dobra (good for nothing). Finally, we selected 

 a spot where there was open water in two places. Geese 

 flew about in small flocks at intervals during the after- 

 noon, and we all expressed confident hopes of a bag 

 after sunrise. The horses were taken from the sledge, a 

 fire was lit, supper with unlimited tea followed, and was 

 over by eleven. We then selected places supposed to be 

 favourable for the cachets ; at each place a hole was dug 

 in the snow, which was piled up to the height of three or 

 four feet, and planted round with willow twigs. " Cock- 

 sure " (the nickname we gave to Piottuch, a bad pun on his 

 name),* who was in high glee, drove across the Petchora 

 with the postmaster, where he was "cocksure" of finding 

 plenty of geese. 



After a final cup of tea and a smoke, we separated at 

 one o'clock, each departing to his cachet, to take, if he 

 felt so inclined, a sleep in the snow for a couple of hours. 

 I did not feel sleepy, and was curious to watch a whole 

 night on the banks of the Petchora ; so doffing my 

 malitza, axe in hand, I set to work to turn my cachet 

 into a turreted castle, some six feet high inside. It was 

 a keen frost, and the surface snow was easy to hew out 

 into square blocks, which I joined together with soft 

 snow from below, and soon my castle was one solid mass 

 of frozen snow. The exercise kept me warm. I planted 

 my last piece of willow twig and put on my malitza just 

 as the sun appeared above the horizon, amidst lake and 

 vermilion clouds, behind the steep mudbanks on the 

 other side of the Petchora. Behind me rose a thick 



* " Piatookh " is the Russian for a cock. 



