KATUNDA 219 



hunters. One would hardly have expected any one 

 to be able to live in so miniature a style, yet his 

 wife and himself appeared to be quite comfortable, 

 and gave us a hearty welcome and a good cup of 

 China tea. Our friend was very anxious to present 

 me with a. pair of skis as a memento, he having 

 taught me to use them to good effect in our hunting 

 expeditions and when climbing the mountains. I 

 was very reluctantly compelled to refuse them, as 

 our trophies, in the shape of ibex and stag horns, 

 were already more than we could conveniently take 

 with us ; in fact, we had to leave some of them to 

 follow. 



The woman in charge of the post station baked 

 some white bread for us, and we called at the village 

 creamery to buy some butter. The dairy -maid, bare- 

 footed and rosy-cheeked, her head tied up in a hand- 

 kerchief, stood at the dairy door laughing shyly, while 

 I took a photograph of her. On a shelf above her, 

 at the front of the dairy, was an assortment of all 

 shapes of tin cans, in which the milk is allowed to 

 stand until the cream forms. A small, cheap 

 separator, costing about £3 or £4, the most wonderful 

 machine these peasants had ever seen, produced some 

 butter, the quality of which was scarcely inferior to 

 the best Colonial. Yet, when this butter reaches 

 London, or Germany, or Denmark, or even a Russian 

 market, it is quite los. lower in quality. The reason 

 is not far to seek. From Katunda, the most southerly 

 village, it would have a journey of fourteen days by 

 sledge in winter, or drosky in summer, to Bysk, with 

 nothing to protect it but some" well-dried hay. In 

 order to do the journey in less time, it would have 

 to be carried day and night — the speed being very 

 slow — and would still be stale when it reached Bysk, 

 the selling depot for the Altai butter. 



At Bysk the butter changes hands, together with 



