Not a word was spoken now, and as they went they took the greatest pains not to brush against any branch or twig.

The Ostjaks were now walking their fastest, and Godfrey had to exert himself to keep up with them. Their footfall was so light as to be scarce audible. After two hours' travelling they saw an opening among the trees, and here some young pines were growing thickly. The chief pointed significantly towards them, and Godfrey understood that the animals would probably be feeding there. They now went slowly, and the chief whispered orders that they were to make a circle round the opening and close round on the other side as noiselessly as possible. He himself would enter the thicket from the side on which he now was. The crackling of the pine twigs would drive them out on the other side. Very quietly they worked round and took up their stations, each standing behind a fir-tree, and then waited.

They could hear the stamping of heavy hoofs and the occasional breaking of twigs. Presently there was a louder and more continuous sound of breaking bushes, and then with a sudden rush a great elk, followed by four others, burst out of the thicket. As they came along the Ostjaks stepped out from their hiding-places and let fly their deadly arrows. The leading elk came close to the tree behind which Godfrey was standing, and as it passed he fired both barrels, hitting it just behind the shoulder. The elk ran a few paces and then fell. Three out of the other four had been brought down by the Ostjak arrows; the young male escaped. The satisfaction of the Ostjaks was great; for here, in addition to the value of the skins, was food for themselves and the dogs for some time to come.

A man was at once sent back for the sledges. While waiting for these the rest set out on various tracks of ermine they had passed on the way, and three of these and a marten were killed before the sledges came up. The big elk was placed on one sledge, one of the females on each of the others. The fourth was skinned, cut up, and divided among the three sledges. Lightly as the sledges ran over the snow the men were all obliged to harness themselves to ropes to assist the deer, and it was late in the evening before they arrived at the hut. The fire was lighted at once. Godfrey undertook the cooking, while the rest skinned the bears and elk, cut them up, and hung up the carcasses on boughs beyond the reach of the dogs. These had a grand feast off the offal while the men were regaling themselves with fresh elk steaks.

For two months the hunting was continued with much success, then the Ostjaks said they would return home. Godfrey, however, was anxious to continue hunting; he had a small tent that had been made for him and Luka, and the Ostjak leader offered to leave one of the sledges with six dogs that had been trained to draught work. As soon as the Ostjaks had started on their return journey the tent, a store of provisions and furs, were packed in the sledge, and a fresh start made, as they had been in their present position for over a week. As they went along two of the poles were arranged so that they made a deep groove in the snow, by which they could find their way back to the starting-point. Two days' journey took them into a hilly country. They established themselves in a sheltered valley, and made that the centre from which they hunted.

They were now twelve days' journey from the Yenesei and well beyond the range of ordinary hunting parties. They had soon reason to congratulate themselves on entering the more mountainous country, for here the game was much more abundant than it had been before. The dogs had by this time become attached to them, for Godfrey was fond of animals, and had petted them in a manner to which they were quite unaccustomed from their Ostjak masters. One of them especially, a young dog, had taken regularly to accompany Godfrey when hunting, and he found the animal of the greatest utility, as it was able to follow the back track with undeviating certainty. This was of importance, for there was but a short twilight each twenty-four hours, the sun being below the horizon except for an hour or two at noon, and they were obliged to carry torches while following the tracks of the smaller animals.

Ermines were found in considerable numbers, and in the first week four fine sables were killed, as well as two martens and a bear; the latter was specially prized. They had brought a fortnight's provisions for themselves and the dogs, but they were anxious to eke these stores out as long as possible, as they could no longer depend upon getting fresh supplies from home. The bodies of the ermines were but a mouthful for one of the dogs, while the sables and martens gave them a mouthful all round. The bear, however, contained a large quantity of excellent food, and setting aside the hams for their own consumption they hung up the rest of the meat on a tree to serve out gradually among the dogs. They soon found, however, that they need be under no anxiety as to food, as foxes abounded, principally red, though two of the valuable black foxes fell to Godfrey's gun. They found many paths in the woods completely trodden down by animals. Here they used the Ostjak method of catching them: putting up a screen of branches across the track. Looking at these objects with suspicion, the animals invariably refused to try either to jump over or crawl through them, but went round at one end or the other. Here accordingly traps were fixed and many animals were taken.

Intense as the cold was Godfrey felt it even less than he had anticipated. The wide-spreading woods broke the force of the winds, and while they could sometimes see the tops of the trees swaying beneath its force they scarcely felt a breath below. Luka knew nothing of the Esquimaux fashion of making snow-huts, and said he had never heard of it among the Ostjaks or Samoyedes. At each of the halts, however, Godfrey piled the snow high over the low tent of reindeer-skin which he had got the women to make for him according to his own plan. It resembled a tent d'abri, or shelter tent, seven feet long and as much wide, was permanently closed at one end, and had flaps crossing each other at the entrance. Instead of depending entirely upon the two uprights and the ridge-pole between them, Godfrey when erecting it put eight or ten poles on each side, stretching from the ridge out to the side of the tent, so as to support the skin under the snow they piled over it.

The bottom was covered with a thick mat of furs, the sides were lined with them, and others were hung across the entrance, so that the cold was effectually kept out. A large fire was kept burning in front of the tent, and from this, from time to time, red embers were taken out and placed in a cooking-pot inside. At night two or three lamps, fed by oil melted down from the fat of the animals they killed, were kept alight, and in this way lying snugly in their sleeping-bags they felt perfectly warm and comfortable, although the temperature outside was from forty to fifty degrees below zero. The dogs slept outside, with the exception of the one of which Godfrey had made a special pet, it being allowed to share the tent with them. A high bank of snow was erected on each side of the entrance to the tent. This served further to break the force of the wind and to retain and reflect back the heat of the fire. The dogs therefore, being provided with a good supply of meat from the proceeds of the chase, did very well.

One afternoon the sky was very thick and overcast, and Luka said he thought that they were going to have snow.

"In that case, Luka," Godfrey said, "we will set to work to make things comfortable. If there is a heavy fall we might be almost buried here. Ordinarily it is sheltered, but if there is a wind, and I can see that it is blowing now, it might drift very deep in this hollow, and we might find ourselves completely snowed up. I think the tent is strong enough to stand any pressure, but it does not contain much air. We will cut down some strong poles and lay them side by side across the snow walls in front of the tent. The smoke will find its way out through them, and if a deep snow comes on it will save the dogs from being snowed up; besides, it will give us a lot of additional air, which we may want. Two or three hours will do it. The time won't be thrown away anyhow, for the branches we cut off and the poles themselves will do for firewood."

The snow-flakes began to fall just as they finished the work—the result being a sort of flat-roofed shelter with snow walls ten feet long and six feet high, in front of the tent. A large quantity of firewood was piled up at the entrance to the shelter.

"That is a capital idea, Luka," Godfrey said as they retired into the tent. "We can sit with the entrance of the tent open now if we like and get the benefit of the fire outside, for the air having to pass close by it on its way to us gets comparatively warm."

When they went out to build up the fire for the last time before lying down, snow was falling steadily, and was already deep in front of the entrance to the shelter. The dogs had been well fed and lay thickly clustered round the fire, evidently greatly contented with the unusual luxury of a roof over them. Godfrey crawled into the tent again, closed the flaps, hung up a skin before them, and getting into his sleeping-bag lay there comfortably smoking his pipe and talking to Luka.

"We are as snug here as if we were in a palace, Luka; but I should not like to be caught out in the woods to-night. Have you ever heard of any of the Ostjaks or Samoyedes being frozen to death?"

"Couldn't be frozen if they had a hatchet and matches with them," he replied. "Can always chop down branches and make a hut and a fire in the middle to keep it warm. Then snow comes and covers it up and keeps out the wind. Out on the plains a man might get frozen if stupid, but he ought never to be if he knew what to do. He should look for a hollow where the snow had drifted deep, then make a hole in the side of the drift and crawl in. He ought to be quite warm there if furs are good. But they do not often get lost; they never go very far from huts when snow in the sky. Directly it comes on they would make for home. Can always get along in snow-shoes."

"The Isvostchiks are often frozen in St. Petersburg in their sledges at night," Godfrey said.

"They can't build huts in a town," Luka remarked; "they can't find snow deep enough to get into; town not good in winter."

"Are there many wolves here, Luka? Do they often attack people?"

"No, there is plenty of game in the woods. In Russia the game now, so I hear, is scarce, so the wolves must take to eating men; but here there is plenty of game, and so they do not often attack people. I have heard of hunters going out and never coming back again. Then people say wolves eat them, but not often so. May be killed by elk, or hurt by a falling tree, or climb hills and fall down. I do not think it is often the wolves. Wolves great cowards."

"I am glad to hear it, Luka: I have heard them howl sometimes at night and wondered whether they would come this way."

"Not come here," Luka said decidedly, "we keep plenty of big fire. All beasts afraid of fire. Then we have got dogs and guns. Much easier for wolves to attack elk; but even that they seldom do unless it is wounded or has injured itself."

"Well, I think I will go off to sleep; my pipe is out and the hot tea has made me sleepy."

After sleeping for some hours, Godfrey awoke with a strange feeling of oppression. Outside he could hear the dogs whimpering.

"Wake up, Luka," he said, "it is very close in here. I fancy the snow must have drifted very deep and covered us up completely. Let us get up and see about it."

It was quite dark outside, except that the embers of the fire threw a dull red light on the snow. The shelter seemed but half its former dimensions. The snow had drifted in at its entrance and lay in a bank piled up to the roof.

"Bring your spear, Luka, and mine, and shove them up between these poles. We must make a few holes up through the snow if we can to let a little air in."

The spears were pushed up and then worked a little to and fro to try to enlarge the hole. They were eight feet long, but Godfrey did not feel at all sure that they penetrated through the cover of snow. However, when they had made a dozen of these holes there was a distinct change in the air.

"They have gone nearly through, if not quite, and anyhow they are near enough to the surface for the air to find its way out. Now we had better set to work at once to dig a passage out. That is one advantage of this shelter, there is a place to throw the snow back into."

Going down on their hands and knees they soon scraped the snow away until they reached the entrance to the shelter. Here the snow weighted by the pressure above was much denser and harder, and they could cut out blocks with their hatchets.

"Now," Godfrey said, "we must make a tunnel sloping upwards. It must be as steep as it can so that we are able to climb up, making steps to give us foothold. I will begin, for we only just want it wide enough for one. I will hand the blocks down to you as I cut them, and you pile them regularly along the sides here. As we fill the shelter up you must drive the dogs back into the tent. We shall want every inch of room for the snow before we get out."

For hours they worked steadily, taking it by turns to cut and to pile. The last four feet were much more difficult than the first, the snow, being lighter and less packed, falling in upon them as they dug. Once Luka was completely buried, and Godfrey had to haul him back by the legs. The atmosphere inside, however, improved as they got upwards, being able to penetrate between the particles of the light snow. It was six hours before they both struggled out, followed by the dogs in an impetuous rush. It took them another couple of hours to clear away and beat down the snow sufficiently to make an easy entrance to the shelter. A fire was lighted outside and a meal cooked, for the lamps were quite sufficient to keep the tent sufficiently warm, and they would have been well-nigh stifled with smoke had they attempted to light the fire in the shelter. The snow was still falling and drifting, and the sky showed no signs of change.

"The entrance will fill up again by to-morrow," Luka said, "and we shall have more trouble than ever to get out."

"We must provide against that, Luka; we must build a sort of roof over the entrance here, and then we shall only have to start from this point again. Let us set to work and chop down some poles at once."

After three hours' more work a cover was built over the entrance, and roofed with pine branches so as to prevent the snow from drifting in.

"Now, Luka, there is one more job, and unfortunately a long one, but we must do that. We must get the snow that we have packed in the shelter below out of the way, for if by any chance this passage fell through, we should have nowhere to pile the snow; besides, we may have another passage as deep as the present one to dig to-morrow, for the snow is drifting down in clouds. It has deepened a couple of feet since we began to make the roof over the entrance."

Luka, who was always ready to work, set to cheerfully, but the short twilight had faded into deep darkness before the work was completed.

"If we had had a couple of good shovels with us, Luka, we should have made short work of this," Godfrey said as they retired below into their tent. "We could do as much work in an hour as one can in five with these tools. It is heart-breaking to shovel out snow with a hatchet. I am as tired as a dog. This is harder work than the gold-mines at Kara by a long way."

"Yes," Luka said, "but there is no man with a gun."

"No, that makes a difference, Luka, this is free work and the other isn't; not that one can call it exactly free when we have no choice but to do it."

For another four days the snow continued to fall; but as the wind had dropped, and the snow no longer drifted, their work each morning was comparatively easy.

"I wish it would stop," Godfrey said, "for we begin to want food for the dogs; our stock of dried fish has been exhausted since we were shut up. There is half a deer hanging to a branch of that tree close to the tent, but it is eight or ten feet below the snow, and as we can't calculate the exact position now it would be a big job to try to get at it." There was, however, no change in the aspect of the weather on the following morning, and Luka announced that beyond the tea and a handful or two of flour there was nothing whatever for breakfast, while the dogs had fasted on the previous day.

"Well, Luka, there is nothing to do but to try and get at that venison. I have been thinking that it will be easiest to try from below; it is much quicker work chopping out the solid snow than it is trying to make a hole in that loose stuff at the surface. The tree was just about in a line with the front of the tent, wasn't it? and we hung the deer on a branch that stretched out nearly as far as the tent. I should say we hung it about half-way along that branch and not above twelve feet from the tent."

Luka agreed as to the position.

"Very well, then, as we know exactly the direction, and as the distance is but twelve feet, it ought not to take us very long to chop out a passage just big enough and high enough for one to crawl through. When we get near the place where we think it is, we must make the tunnel a good bit higher, for the bottom of the meat was quite five feet from the ground so that it should be well out of reach of the dogs. Now, will you go first or shall I?"

"I will begin," Luka said. "We must make the passage wide enough to push the snow past us as we get it down."

"Certainly we must, Luka. Make it pretty wide at the bottom, and make the top arched so as to stand the pressure from above."

It was easy enough work at first, but became more difficult every foot they advanced, as the one behind had to crawl backward each time with the snow that the one at work passed back to him. At last the tunnel was driven twelve feet long, and the last four feet it had been given an upward direction, by which means less snow had to be removed than would have been the case had the bottom remained level with the ground and the height been increased.

"We are a good twelve feet in now, Luka, and certainly high enough. Which way do you think we had better try?"

Luka replied by calling one of the dogs and taking it with him to the end of the tunnel. The animal at once began to snuff about eagerly, and then to scratch violently to the right.

"That will do," Luka said, pushing it back past him and taking its place. He had driven but a foot in the direction in which the dog was scratching when the hatchet struck something hard. It required some care to dig round the meat and make a hole large enough for Luka to stand up beside it and cut the cord by which it hung. The dogs yelped with joy when he dragged it back to the other end of the passage. The fire was made now in the passage under the roof they had made at the end of the first day's work, for outside the snow fell so fast that it damped the fire greatly, and as the smoke made its way out through the entrance it was no inconvenience to them below. A good-sized piece of raw meat was chopped off and given to each of the dogs. The ramrod was thrust through another large piece and held by Luka over the fire, and then Godfrey carried the rest of the joint outside and placed it in the fork of a tree.

"It smells good, Luka," he said as he returned to the fire; "I wish it would attract a bear."

Luka shook his head. "Bears are asleep, Godfrey; they are hunted in summer, and sometimes they may be found in the early part of the winter, but never when the snow is deep; they would die of hunger. There might be wolves, but we don't want them. Wolf skins fetch very little, and their flesh is only good for the dogs; we don't want wolves, but we must be on our guard. In such weather as this food is very scarce. They might come and attack us. Yesterday I heard howls once or twice. I think when we have done breakfast it will be better to take that meat down below."

"Why, they wouldn't smell it as much as this cooked meat, Luka."

"No, I was not thinking of that, but if they come we may want it."

"You mean they might besiege us, Luka?"

"Yes, shut us up here. Wolves very patient; wait a long time when they scent food."

"Well, we will have the dogs sleep up here for the future. They will act as sentries, and there is none too much air down there. That reminds me, I will cut a long pole or two, fasten them together, and try and drive them down through the snow to the roof of the shelter below."

Luka shook his head. "You might drive it down five or six feet, but you would never get it down to the roof, and if you did you could never pull it up again."

"I don't know, Luka. I once saw them driving down some bars in tough clay when they were making a railway cutting at home. I think we might do it in the same way."

Godfrey after breakfast cut a pole, chopping it off just below where two or three small branches had shot from it, leaving a bulge. This bulge he shaped and smoothed very carefully with his knife, so that it was in the form of a peg-top.

"There," he said. "You see it is thicker here than it is anywhere else, so that the hole it makes will be a little larger than the pole itself, and instead of the snow holding the pole all the way down it will touch it only on this shoulder."

This succeeded admirably. It was six feet long. They had cleared away the loose snow to a depth of eighteen inches, and both holding it were able to force the pole down as much more; then they hammered it with a billet of wood until only a foot showed; then they spliced another to it, and working it up and down jumped it in until they could again use the mallet, and at last struck on something solid, which could only be one of the beams forming the roof of the hut. Godfrey went below, and soon discovered the spot where the pole came down, and with his knife managed to clear away the snow round it. Then he went up and assisted Luka to withdraw the pole, which left a hole of about three inches in diameter.

"That is a capital chimney," he said. "Now we will throw a few fir branches over it, to prevent the dogs treading here and shutting it up. I think the air looks rather lighter, Luka, and that the storm is nearly over. There is a howl again. I am afraid that we are going to have trouble with the wolves. Is there anything we can do?"

Luka shook his head. "We might get up into trees," he said. "We should be safe there, but then we should lose the dogs."

"That would never do, Luka; we should have to haul the sledge back a hundred and fifty miles. No, I'll tell you what we will do: we will cut down some young trees and block up our tunnel with beams, leaving three or four inches between each to fire through or use our spears."

"That is a very good plan," Luka said. "We should be quite safe then."

It took them some hours' work to carry out the idea. The middle of the tunnel was closed by a row of pointed stakes, some four inches in diameter, driven deep into the snow and reaching up to the roof of the shelter. An opening of a foot wide was left in the middle, another stake being placed beside it in readiness to fill it up if required. The operation was completed by the light of the fire, as it was pitch dark by the time it was done. Then another meal was cooked and eaten, and the brands carried below, where, at the bottom of the descent, the fire was now kindled. The dogs had for some time been growling angrily in the upper passage, and the fire was no sooner alight below than they broke into a chorus of fierce barking.

"We had better bring them down here, Luka, and fill up the opening. I think the wolves must be gathering in numbers."

Going up again they sent the dogs down, firmly lashed two cross-bars to the others, and to these lashed the pole they had left in readiness, thus completing the grating across the tunnel. As they worked the smoke from the fire below curled up round them. A few months before Godfrey would have found it almost insupportable, but by this time he had, like the natives, become so accustomed to it that it affected him very little. Still he said to Luka: "You had better break off the hot ends of the sticks so as to have a red fire only for the present, the smoke makes my eyes water so that I can scarcely see. Now the sooner those fellows come to get their first lesson the better."

Kneeling by the grating, with his gun in his hand and his spear beside him, Godfrey gazed out, and could presently distinguish the outline of a number of moving figures.

"I can see their eyes at the entrance," he said. "Shall I give them a shot, or will you send an arrow into them?"

"You fire," Luka replied. "Bow makes no noise, gun will frighten them; besides, I have only twenty arrows and they would get broken. Better keep them till there is need."

Godfrey levelled his gun, which was charged with buck-shot, and fired both barrels. Terrific yells and howls followed, and the opening was clear in a moment, though Godfrey could see two or three dark figures on the snow. There was a sound of whimpering and snarling, and then of a fierce fight outside.

"They are killing and eating the wounded," Luka said; "when they have done that they will come again. Let them get close up next time."

In a few minutes the entrance to the tunnel was darkened again, and then cleared. The dead wolves had been pulled away. Another quarter of an hour and the animals reappeared. As all was silent they gradually approached. Godfrey could hear their panting, and presently heard a noise against the bars. A moment later there was a rush and an outburst of snarling growls, then he and Luka drove their spears again and again between the bars, yells of pain following each stroke. The animals in front were unable to retreat, and the others behind crowded in upon them, maddened with the smell of blood, and all trying to get first at their prey. They quarrelled and fought among themselves, while their cries and growls were answered by the furious barking of the dogs in the shelter below.

In two or three minutes Godfrey, who had reloaded his gun, fired both barrels into the mass, and at the flash and sound the wolves again fled. This time they did not venture to re-enter the passage. Occasionally one showed itself, and was instantly shot by Godfrey or Luka, who took turns on watch throughout the night. As soon as the dim light broke they removed the bar and issued out with the dogs. A dozen wolves lay dead outside the bars, seven were scattered round the entrance. Godfrey shot two more who were lurking under the trees, while Luka sent an arrow through another.

"There are plenty of them about still," Godfrey said. "Let us get three or four of the dead ones upon a branch out of their reach as food for the dogs, drag the rest away from the entrance to the tunnel, and bring the others up from below. That will give them, with the three we have shot now, enough for a big meal. Then I should think they would move off."

This was accordingly done, and they went below and cooked breakfast, while the dogs feasted on a dead wolf. Then they lay down for three hours' sleep. When they went up again the dead wolves had disappeared, only a few bones and the blood-marked snow showing where they had lain. Godfrey fired a couple of shots to scare away any that might be lingering in the neighbourhood, and then replacing the bars they went out hunting, and from that time heard no farther of the wolves.

They continued their hunting, shifting their camp occasionally until it was time to rejoin the Ostjaks, and then travelled east. They struck the river some thirty miles below the camp, crossed at once and travelled up the other side until they arrived at the huts. They were heartily welcomed by the natives, and remained there for three days to rest the dogs. They were very glad of getting a supply of fish again. These the Ostjaks had in abundance, as they kept their frozen piles for food when the keenness of the wind rendered the cold so bitter that they were forced to remain in their huts. At other times they fished by torch-light at holes that they kept broken in the ice, spearing the fish, which were attracted by the light. The Ostjaks were surprised at the large number of skins, some of them of the most valuable kind, that Godfrey had brought back, and were impatient for a fresh start. They were this time absent for only six weeks, returning at the beginning of May. The hunt was marked by no adventure. They did fairly well, but were not fortunate in securing any skins of the black fox and but few of the sable.

Upon their return the furs that had been taken during the two hunts with the Ostjaks were fairly divided, and Godfrey added his and Luka's shares to those they had themselves obtained. There were over fifty in all, including three black foxes, six sables, and ten martens, the rest being of inferior value. Then a list was made of the necessaries that Luka was to purchase at Turukhansk. These included ten pounds of brick tea, some copper nails if he could obtain them, a store of ammunition, some more fish-hooks, the largest kettle he could buy, a frying-pan, a few pounds of sugar, ten pounds of salt, some stout sheeting, thirty yards of duck canvas, three blocks, a coil or two of rope, needles and twine, a saw, a couple of chisels, and some other tools.

"You must make the best bargain you can for the skins, Luka; I have no idea how much they are worth."

The Ostjaks were, however, able to tell them the prices the traders pay for the skins of each animal, provided that they were fine specimens and in good condition. The black foxes were worth from fifty to a hundred roubles, the sables from thirty to fifty, the martens some ten roubles less; the other skins were worth from fifteen to thirty roubles.

Luka took the sledge and a reindeer and started alone, having gone over the list of things required again and again until Godfrey was convinced that he was perfect. He took his sleeping-bag but no tent. He calculated that he should be away five days, as it would take him two to drive to Turukhansk, and a day there to make his purchases.

On the fifth evening he returned, with everything he had been ordered to get, and a few other things that he thought would be useful. He had obtained in all six hundred and fifty roubles as the result of their six months' hunting, and of these had expended a hundred and seventy roubles.

"We are well set up for money now, Luka," Godfrey said, as he added the notes to those he before possessed. "I have still four hundred roubles out of what I received from the Buriat, so we have now nearly nine hundred, which will be enough to pay our way to England from any point we may land at."

CHAPTER XIV.

The women were now making a canoe under Godfrey's instructions. He had often gone out in canoes on the Severn and on the sea when staying at watering-places there. The craft that had done them such good service before would not do for their present undertaking. They required a boat which should be fairly fast, sea-worthy, and yet light, for it might be necessary to carry it considerable distances. It was necessary that its dimensions should exceed those of an English canoe, for it must carry a considerable amount of food, although of course he meant to depend chiefly on the fishing-lines and gun. It was made five-and-twenty feet long, and three feet wide. The central compartment was thirteen feet long. This was covered in at the sides and ends, leaving an opening for them to sit and paddle, fifteen inches wide, and five feet long. Underneath the covered parts provisions, furs, cooking utensils, &c., could be stowed away on both sides, leaving room for them to lie down at full length in the centre.

The two end compartments were entirely covered in, but had openings over which a cover was lashed, and could, if necessary, be used for holding stores; but Godfrey did not intend to put anything here except temporarily, as it was important that the canoe should be as buoyant and light as possible. The frame of the boat was built of the tough and elastic wood of which the Ostjaks made their bows. It was very light, the ribs being bound to the longitudinal pieces by fine gut. It was built, as nearly as Godfrey could lay them out, on the lines of an English cruising canoe. The deck strips were similarly lashed, and when the framework was completed Godfrey tested its strength by dropping it three feet to the ground, rolling it over and over, and trying it in a variety of ways.

When fully satisfied with it the work of putting on the cover commenced. This was made of very soft and well-tanned reindeer hide, stretched as tightly as possible, and then rubbed with seal oil. The keel of the boat had been made very strong, as the rigidity of the whole craft depended upon this. It had been made flat, and the skins had been taken over it. When it was finished a false keel six inches in depth in the centre, tapering away to nothing at the ends, was fixed underneath. This keel was also made of tough wood, a little more than a quarter of an inch thick, but widening suddenly to over an inch where it touched the boat, in order that it might be securely fixed with screws to the keel inside.

The boat was provided with a light mast, which could be stepped or unstepped at pleasure, and there were two stays of twisted leather, one fastening to each side of the boat. An iron ring with a cord travelled up and down the mast, the halliard running through a small block, as Luka had been able to obtain a sheave at Turukhansk. The sail was a lug made of sheeting, oiled, and the boat carried beside a triangular sail of very much smaller dimensions and stouter cloth for heavy weather. She also carried a small mizzen mast and sail. In rough weather the cockpit could be completely covered with a light apron with openings where the rowers sat, with a sort of collar, which could be lashed tightly round their waists. The edges of this apron could be lashed down over the gunwale round the cockpit. When completed the canoe itself, with its mast and sails, weighed but sixty pounds, and could be carried with ease by one person on his shoulder.

The Ostjaks greatly admired the craft, which was entirely different from anything they had ever seen. The false keel puzzled them greatly, and Godfrey's explanations, even when aided by Luka, failed altogether in making them understand that it would have the effect of enabling the craft to sail near the wind without drifting to leeward. The additional draught of water was no inconvenience whatever in a craft designed for the sea, and it added materially to the strength of the canoe. On the 15th of May it was freezing hard. The natives going down to the water's edge in the morning reported a sudden rise of three feet in the river. It continued to rise all day, and by nightfall was fifteen feet above its former level.

In the evening the north wind dropped suddenly, and an hour later it sprang up from the south, and by midnight a torrent of rain was falling. Godfrey could hear sounds like the reports of cannon above the pattering of the rain on the skins, and knew that it must be the ice breaking. In the morning when he looked out the whole mass of ice seemed to be moving. Black cracks showed everywhere across the white surface. The river had during the night risen another twenty feet. By mid-day the scene was a wild one indeed. No longer was the surface smooth. Hurrying along at the rate of fifteen miles an hour the great masses of ice were dashed against each other by the force of the current.

Two miles lower down the river narrowed suddenly, and here a block was formed. Some of the pieces of ice were thrust down, others climbed over them, thrusting themselves one on the top of the other till a ridge thirty or forty feet high was formed from bank to bank. At times this gave way, and then the whole was whirled down the stream, while another ridge at once commenced to form. Godfrey walked down to the point and stood for hours looking at the scene. The great blocks of ice, six or eight feet thick, seemed almost to be endowed with vitality as they climbed one above the other, until thrust off the crest of the ridge by the pressure of those behind them. The din was prodigious, a crackling, rustling, roaring sound, with sharp explosions and deep muffled booming. The whole air seemed to quiver with sound, and the loudest shout would have been inaudible a yard or two away. Below the ridge the river, so long as the barrier stood, was comparatively clear, but from time to time great masses of ice that had been sunk by the pressure and swept along under the ridge came to the surface with a surge that lifted one end high out of the water, reminding Godfrey of the spring of some enormous fish; then the ice would come down with a mighty splash, and hasten away reeling and rocking on the rapid current. Entranced by this mighty conflict of the forces of nature, Godfrey stood there until seven or eight o'clock in the evening.

It would be light for three hours yet, for the sun now only sank for a short time below the horizon. The rain was still falling heavily when he returned to his hut. The river had risen another thirty feet since the evening before, and the height of the bank had decreased from a hundred feet to about thirty. For two more days it rained incessantly. The river had now risen to its high-water mark, ten feet below the bank. Godfrey asked the Ostjaks if there was no fear of its overflowing, but they told him that there was no cause for uneasiness, for that at its present point it overflowed at many places both above and below them, and extended over a vast tract of country, and that at every additional foot it would spread so widely that it would speedily begin to fall again. The ridge had now ceased to form, although the river was still packed with floating masses.

"In another two days," the Ostjaks' chief said, "the ice will be all gone except a few blocks. Much of the ice above is carried out by the floods and left to melt on the land as the water lowers, but even without that the river at its present rate would soon carry it all down."

This Godfrey could well imagine, for at the rate of fifteen miles an hour over three hundred and sixty miles of the river would have been emptying daily. At the end of another three days but few blocks of ice were visible, and Godfrey now began to make preparations for his start. First the canoe was to be tried. She was taken down and placed in the water, and the sides under the half-decks were filled in with frozen geese and fish from the pile, which was still but little affected by the thaw.

When she was thus brought down to nearly the weight she would have to carry, Godfrey and Luka took their places in her, dipped their paddles in the stream, shot out, and paddled about for some time in the still water behind the shelter of the point. Godfrey found to his satisfaction that she paddled easily, quite answering to his expectations. Then Luka, who had already practised the manœuvre on shore, stepped the masts, fastened the stays, and hoisted the sails. There was a light breeze from the south, and the boat ran rapidly along before it till it was again abreast of the village, then she was put about and made short tacks in the dead-water. Godfrey found that she stood stiffly up to the canvas, and, as far as he could see, made little or no leeway. Then he returned to the village. The Ostjaks, who seldom made use of sails, and then only when dead before the wind, were perfectly astounded alike at the rapidity with which the boat glided through the water and at the ease with which she came about, and were astonished beyond measure at seeing her make a zigzag progress in the teeth of the wind.

Early the next morning the rest of the preparations were completed. The tea, tobacco, cooking utensils, and other necessaries were stowed away under the deck astern of Godfrey, together with twenty pounds of fat. This had been carefully set aside for the purpose when animals were killed and cut up. It had been melted down in the chief's large pot and poured into a tin drinking-mug, in which four strands of unravelled cord had been placed to act as wicks. The tin was dipped in ice water, and in a few minutes the fat solidified, then the tin was dipped again, this time in hot water, and the short fat candle with its four wicks then came easily out, and the process was repeated. These candles weighed just about a pound each. Godfrey collected fat enough to make fifty, but being afraid of overburdening the canoe he decided that twenty must suffice, believing that he would be able to pick up drift-wood as they coasted along.

A store of pine-wood torches was lashed on the deck on each side of the mast forward of Luka, the fishing spears, hatchets, and other articles for trade stowed away, the furs and their winter garments laid thickly at the bottom of the boat. They took with them Jack, Godfrey's favourite dog, and then, bestowing all the rest of their possessions on the Ostjaks, they took a hearty farewell of them, stepped on board, and started. They had at the last moment decided to take their old boat also with them. This was fastened by a tow-rope behind the canoe. It was filled with frozen provisions, having been first lined with rough furs, others were laid closely over them. In this way Godfrey calculated that they would remain frozen for a long time. The rest of the store of flour and a stock of firewood were added.

As to the extra weight of towing the canoe it was immaterial, as until they reached the mouth of the river there would be no occasion for paddling, and beyond that the stock of provisions could be transferred to their own canoe to take the place of those used up on the way, and the craft could then be cast adrift. As there was a light breeze, however, the sail was hoisted, rather because it gave them steerage way than for any increase to their speed. As soon as the canoe shot out into the rougher water in the full force of the stream, Godfrey was still more delighted with the boat, the empty compartments fore and aft rendering her exceedingly buoyant. She had been built with somewhat higher sides than the canoes Godfrey had seen at home, and rose a good deal towards the ends; and she floated as lightly as a cork on the surface of the water. That afternoon they passed Turukhansk. Below this the river widened out. In the evening they lowered the sail, as they did not wish to run the risk of striking either the shore or a piece of ice that might have got delayed on its journey. All night they hurried on, lying snugly in the bottom of the boat with the apron closed overhead.

In the morning they found they were not far from the left bank, and that the river now was more than four miles wide. The sail was again hoisted and breakfast made, after which they got out their lines and hooks, baited, and dropped them into the water. During the course of the day they caught several fish, and picked up a considerable quantity of floating wood, which they stowed in the large canoe.

"I think, Luka," Godfrey said, "that instead of letting our old boat go we may as well keep it for a time. As long as there is wind, it makes no great difference to our speed, though, of course, it would be heavy if we were paddling. If we had bad weather we could land and turn it bottom upwards, and there would be a hut ready made for us. This canoe is all right for sleeping in when the water is smooth, but with its deep keel we could not sleep in it ashore."

Luka was, as usual, quite of Godfrey's opinion. After this they made the old boat their kitchen, for there was but little room in the canoe for cooking purposes; and it was, moreover, a relief to get into the roomy craft where they could move about as they pleased. As drift-wood was abundant they made their fires entirely of this, keeping their candles for the time when they might have to leave their store-boat behind them. On the third day the river widened out greatly. They could no longer see the right bank, and Godfrey concluded that they were now in the Gulf of Yenesei.

"The weather is going to change," Luka said the next morning; "the wind will soon be coming from the north; going to blow hard."

"In that case, Luka, the sooner we are ashore the better. The current now is nothing like so swift as it was. I don't think we are going past the land at more than three miles an hour, but that would be quite enough if the wind comes from the north to knock up a nasty sea in no time. Let us get our paddles out; there is not a breath of wind."

In half an hour they reached the shore, but had to coast along for some time before they found a place free of rocks.

"This will do, Luka, we are not a minute too soon; those puffs just now were so strong that we made no way against them. Now, then, jump out and get the canoe high and dry."

They had retained their long boots, and stepped out into water up to their knees. Then they lifted the canoe and carried it ashore.

"It is heavier than it was when we put it in," Luka said.

"I should think so. What with the furs and provisions, candles, and one thing and another, there must be a hundred and fifty pounds weight in her. There, put her down here, Luka, and let us get the other up. We must take the things out first. Quick, man, the wind is getting up fast. Isn't it cold; we shall want our fur jackets on directly." The firewood and provisions were carried up some distance above the water's edge, and then the boat was lifted and placed beside them. A thick sleet had now set in, and the wind was blowing with tremendous gusts.

"Now, then, look about, Luka, and see if you can find a sheltered nook. I will pile stones into the well of the canoe so as to anchor her safely. If she were to be rolled over and over her skin would soon be cut to pieces."

Before he had finished this Luka returned. "Good place here," he said. "Good shelter."

"We'll finish this job first, Luka. This is much more important than our getting wet."

As soon as it was done they went to the large canoe, and lifting it carried it away to the place Luka had found—a ridge of rock running back at a right angle from the shore, with a perpendicular face some twelve feet high. At one point there was a deep cleft in it, some eight feet wide at the mouth and narrowing gradually in.

"Capital, Luka; we shall be as snug as possible here. Now, turn her over and take her in."

The cleft was so deep that the stern of the boat was, when she was laid down bow foremost, fully fifteen feet inside the entrance.

"Now it may blow as much as it likes," Godfrey said, "it won't hurt us here. Now do you go and get some of the firewood. I will fetch some skins from the canoe, and the sails."

After getting out some provisions, the cooking utensils, and a couple of the candles, Godfrey returned to the boat. Then he made another journey for some more skins and the two sails. By this time the wind was blowing so fiercely that he could scarcely stagger along with his load. The sea was covered with white heads, and the waves were breaking noisily against the rocks. Luka had already brought up plenty of firewood, and had thrown a large skin over the furs containing the frozen fish, and piled stones on it to prevent its being blown away.

"Now, where will you put the fire?" he asked. "If you put it inside it would burn the boat, if you put it outside it would be no good to us."

"I quite see that, Luka. We must make ourselves comfortable, for this storm may last for days for anything I know. We must prop this end of the boat up so that we can sit upright under it with something to spare. We must pile up some stones a couple of feet high under each gunwale." In a quarter of an hour this was done. The sail was then laid over the boat, the ends being kept down by stones.

"That is snug," Godfrey said. "Now we will put the mizzen over forward so as to keep the wind out right along." There were four feet of head room at the entrance to the boat tent, and in front of this the fire was soon lit, one of the pine torches being cut up to start it with. The skins were laid upon the ground, and taking off their wet coats they put on fur jackets. "Now we can see about breakfast, Luka."

Luka had run down and filled the kettle, while Godfrey was fastening down the sail. This was placed on the fire, and as soon as it began to burn clear some of the fish they had caught the day before were laid on the glowing embers, together with two legs of a goose.

"The thing we are going to have most trouble about, Luka, is fresh water," Godfrey said as they ate their breakfast. Luka looked surprised. "When we once get beyond the stream of the Yenesei," he went on, "the water will be salt."

"Salt!" Luka repeated.

"Yes, too salt to make tea with. We shall be all right for a time, no doubt. What with the melting snow and the rains we have had, there are sure to be lots of little streams running into the sea; but when the land dries we shall be in a bad way."

Luka looked serious; this was altogether beyond his experience.

"Of course if we can get plenty of fresh fish we shall get on fairly, as we sha'n't require much to drink. We will look about the rivers when I can get at the map. I know there is a small one called the Gida running in just between the mouths of the Yenesei and Obi; and there is the Kara on farther, and then the Petchora. As far as I can remember that is all that were marked, but of course there may be lots of little streams that were not put down. There is one thing, if we find that we generally get wind, and can keep the big boat with us, we could make her carry water as well as fuel. She would hold any quantity, for half a dozen barrels would not sink her above an inch. We should certainly get out of the difficulty that way. It gave me quite a fright at first. I felt so sure that I had thought of everything, and there, I never for a moment thought about the sea being salt. How it is blowing outside! It is lucky indeed you have found such a snug corner, Luka, for if we had been out in the open we could only have piled stones in the boat to prevent it blowing away, and lain at full length underneath her, which would be all well enough for one night, but would be a frightful nuisance if it had to go on for three or four days."

So sheltered were they, indeed, that they scarce felt the wind that was howling above them, and were as comfortable beneath their boat as they had been in their hut by the river side.

"When it is as rough as this in the gulf, Luka, it will be tremendous out at sea."

Luka had never seen waves higher than those in some of the rapids of the upper river, and he was astonished at the white-headed waves and at the showers of spray they sent up as they struck the rocks.

"Are the waves ever much bigger than this?" he asked.

"Bigger! I should think so. Out in the open sea one of the waves would make a hundred of these."

"Then they must break the vessels to pieces, Godfrey?"

"No, they are built very stout and strong, and very big. They get broken to pieces if the sea drives them against rocks, and sometimes in very great storms get so beaten by the waves that the planks open and the water runs in and they sink."

"I should not like to go to sea if the waves were like that," Luka said thoughtfully. "This is terrible. Why, if we had not come ashore in time the boat would have sunk."

"She would have made a good fight for it, Luka. With the apron tied in round us we could stand a very heavy sea. So long as we keep her head to the waves the water might wash over us, but it could not get in; and even if it did fill the space where we sleep, the compartments at the ends are quite buoyant enough to keep her up."

"What would you do if you were out in what you call a great sea, Godfrey?"

"I should lash the mast and the sail and our paddles and the firewood together, fasten our mooring rope to them and throw them overboard, that would keep us head to sea—because these things would all float in the water, and the wind would not get hold of them. They call a contrivance like that a floating anchor. Then we would both lie down in the bottom, button the flaps over the holes in the cover, and lie there as snugly as possible. You see our weight would be down quite low in the boat then, and that would keep her steady. Oh, we should get on capitally if there were plenty of room for us to drift."

"How far have we to go now?"

"I can't exactly tell you. I wish I knew. From the long jagged cape, which is the northern point of land on the western side of the Gulf of Yenesei and forms the separation between it and the mouth of the Gulf of Obi, to Waigatz Straits, between the mainland and Waigatz Island, which lies south of the island called Nova Zembla, is about two hundred and fifty miles in a straight line, but I should think it is quite three times that if we have to follow all the ins and outs of the shore. From there to Archangel, if we go in to Archangel, is about three hundred and fifty miles more, cutting across everything. If we had a current with us, like the stream of the Yenesei, we should make very short work of it; but unfortunately there is nothing of that sort. Paddling steadily we might go three miles an hour—say a hundred miles in three days. If we had wind that would help us, of course we should go a great deal faster, because we should paddle and sail too."

"But if we don't go to the place you call Archangel, where should we go?"

"We should keep far north of it, Luka, and sailing in a straight line nearly due west, should strike the northern coast of Norway somewhere or other. I should say, from what I saw of it on the map, it would be five hundred miles from Waigatz. But that would be madness for us to attempt. We might get caught in terrible storms; we might get into fogs, and as we have no compass there we should lie, not knowing which way to go. No, we must stick to the land till we get to the mouth of the White Sea. With a favourable wind we should get across that in a day, and then go on coasting again till we get beyond the Russian frontier; then at the first village we come to we land, find out all about the distances, and arrange to get taken in reindeer sledges to some regular settlement."

"What sort of people are they there?" Luka asked.

"They are the same sort of people as the Samoyedes. I don't know that they are just the same. Anyhow, they speak the same sort of language. Well, you know the Northern Ostjaks we stayed with speak nearly the same as the Samoyedes. You could hardly get on with them at first, because their talk was so different to that of the Southern Ostjaks; but you got to speak it quite easily at last. So I have no doubt you will be able to make any natives you may meet, whether they are Samoyedes or anything else, understand you without difficulty.

"What is it, Jack? What are you whining about?" he asked the dog, who, having made a hearty meal, had been lying down between them while they were talking, but who now sat up, snuffing and whining uneasily.

"It may be either a fox or a bear," Luka said, making his way farther back into the hut, and returning with his bow and arrows, Godfrey's gun, and the two spears.

"I hope it is a bear," Godfrey said as he removed the charges of shot, and rammed down bullets in their place. "We don't want any more skins, unless it happens to be a black fox, which would be worth having, but a supply of bear meat would come in very handy."

The dog's whine presently changed into an angry growl.

"Bear sure enough. I expect he knows of this place, and has come here for shelter. He had much better have left it alone. It is lucky for us that the fire has burnt low; it would have scared him if it had been blazing. Lie down, Jack."

Lying perfectly still they presently heard a sharp snuffing noise, and a minute or two later a bear came round a corner of the rock. Astonished at the sight of the white object, the animal sat up on its haunches.

"Now!" Luka exclaimed, and discharged his arrow at the same moment that Godfrey had pulled his trigger. The arrow struck the bear in the throat, and such was the force with which it was sent that the head showed at the back of the neck. Godfrey's bullet struck it in the chest, and the bear at once rolled over. Thinking it was killed, he crawled from under the boat and ran forward, but the animal suddenly rose to its feet; running up alongside, he placed the muzzle close to its ear and pulled the other trigger.