d
much diplomacy, but our existence depended upon it, and what will not
man accomplish when he wants bread and meat?

We spread our table in one of our rooms. For breakfast we took tea and
boiled eggs, and for dinner we had cabbage soup, roast beef or fowl,
and cutlets. The cook succeeded very well, and as our appetites were
pretty sharp we voted the dinners a success. We used our own bread,
tea, pickles, and preserves, employing the latter as a concluding
dish. Our Cossack was not very skillful at housework, and made many
blunders in serving. Frequently he brought the soup tureen before
arranging the table, and it took him some time to learn the
disadvantage of this practice.

Leaving Blagoveshchensk the country continued level near the river,
but the mountains gradually approached it and on the south bank they
came to the water fifteen or twenty miles above Sakhalin-Oula. On the
north the plain was wider, but it terminated about forty miles above
Blagoveshchensk,--a series of low hills taking its place. The first
day we ran twenty-five or thirty versts before sunset. The river was
less than a mile wide, and the volume of water sensibly diminished
above the Zeya. As the hills approached the river they assumed the
form of bluffs or headlands, with plateaus extending back from their
summits. The scenery reminded me of Lake Pepin and the region just
above it. On the northern shore, between these bluffs and the river,
there was an occasional strip of meadow that afforded clinging room to
a Russian village. At two or three settlements there was an abundance
of hay and grain in stacks, and droves of well fed cattle, that
indicated the favorable character of the country.

At most villages along the Amoor I found the crow and magpie abundant
and very tame. At Blagoveshchensk several of these birds amused me in
sharing the dinner of some hogs to the great disgust of the latter.
When the meal was finished they lighted on the backs of the hogs and
would not dismount until the latter rolled in the dirt. No one appears
to think them worth shooting, and I presume they do no damage.

One day walking on shore I saw a flock of pigeons, and returned to the
boat for Borasdine's gun. As I took it I remarked that I would shoot a
few pigeons for dinner.

"Never think of it," said my friend.

"And why?"

"Because you will make the peasants your enemies. The news would
spread that you had killed a pigeon, and every peasant would disl