252 SIBERIA 



We packed our luggage in the bottom of the drosky 

 and took our seats. Half-way through the village he 

 pulled up, and called to a young moujik, who 

 tightened his waistband, drew up his valenky and 

 vaulted on to the drosky with much of the air of a 

 man who is not particular whether he tumbles off 

 again or not. His cap was crammed tightly over 

 his head. It turned out that he was to be our driver 

 for the next stage. We started away at a splendid 

 pace, and, as the stage to Smolensk, our next stopping 

 place, was only ten miles, we calculated we would 

 get there by 7.30. All went well for the first hour. 

 Large flocks of wild ducks kept rising to right and 

 left of us, some of which we shot at, but shortly after- 

 wards we emerged into a portion of the steppes which, 

 as a result of the thaw, was almost entirely under 

 water. My companion and interpreter usually turned 

 to me to ask whether the drosky was to go straight 

 through the pools or to make a detour in order to 

 avoid them. I had hitherto been very fortunate in 

 my judgment, fording streams and rivers and 

 crossing marshes, calculating that the ice under the 

 water was strong enough to bear. I had also con- 

 trived to select the proper places at which to drive 

 through the water in the steppes, and had never 

 found it much deeper than about three-quarters of 

 the height of the wheels. Here, however, the road 

 was lost. We dismounted and tried to find it. Our 

 driver was obviously puzzled, and admitted that he 

 had never been that way before. Not being able 

 to find the road, we decided to drive through a small 

 lake. I directed the man to drive to the right, where 

 the water appeared to be reasonably shallow, but to 

 our general regret he turned to the left, and, before 

 we quite knew where we were, our horses were np 

 to their necks in the water and it was barely possible, 

 by jumping from the back of the drosky, to reach dry 



