46 SIBERIA 



a cold, damp day in London was vastly more dis- 

 agreeable than the frostiest weather in Siberia. 



The enormous distances to which I have already 

 referred exercised an extraordinary influence upon 

 me, so that I would gaze for hours at a time across the 

 steppes in a vain endeavour to grasp the magnitude 

 of the country, just as, standing on the summit of 

 the Matterhorn, I had failed to realise anything 

 except my own insignificance. 



If travellers in America think little of travelling 

 long distances, the Siberians think even less, 

 journeying for two and three weeks at a time for 

 distances of 600 to 1,000 miles, and over the roughest 

 sledge roads. 



The sparsity of the population is very noticeable — 

 a thoroughfare like that of London Bridge being 

 something undreamt of. The Siberian railway line, 

 with its verstman stationed every two -thirds of a 

 mile, may serve as a gauge of the density of the 

 population. The country is quite forty times the 

 size of Great Britain, yet it only contains one-sixth 

 of the population, or somewhat less than that of 

 Greater London. By way of comparison I may state 

 that the mean density of the population of the 

 British Isles is 666, and that of the United States 

 50 for every two square miles, while that of Siberia 

 is only three. 



We very often passed sledges going in the same 

 direction as our train, and sometimes, when the horses 

 took fright at the engine, they maintained the same 

 speed as the train for considerable distances, 

 frequently terminating the race by overturning the 

 sledges and scattering their occupants. 



Throughout the entire length of the line strong 

 wooden railings are placed across the steppes to 

 prevent the snowdrifts covering the permanent way. 

 In the severe winter the engine-drivers, the fuel used 



