ir was far below freezing, and it
was expected the river would close in a day or two. It might shut
while we were crossing and confine us on the wretched flat-boat ten or
twelve hours, until it would be safe to walk ashore. However, it was
not my craft, and as there were six or eight Russians all in the same
boat with me, I did not borrow trouble.

The ice-cakes ground unpleasantly against each other and had things
pretty much their own way. One of them grated rather roughly upon our
sides. I do not know there was any danger, but I certainly thought I
had seen places of greater safety than that. When we were in the worst
part of the stream two of the ferrymen rested their poles and began
crossing themselves. I could have excused them had they postponed this
service until we landed on the opposite bank or were stuck fast in the
ice. The Russian peasants are more dependant on the powers above than
were even the old Puritans. The former abandon efforts in critical
moments and take to making the sign of the cross. The Puritans
trusted in God, but were careful to keep their powder dry.

[Illustration: OUR FERRY BOAT.]

A wide sand bank where we landed was covered with smooth ice, and I
picked my way over it much like a cat exercising on a mirror. The
tarantass was pushed ashore, and as soon as the horses were attached a
rapid run took them up the bank to the station.

A temporary track led across a meadow that furnished a great deal of
jolting to the mile. Eight versts from Verkne Udinsk the road divides,
one branch going to Kiachta and the other to Lake Baikal and Irkutsk.
A pleasing feature of the route was the well-built telegraph line, in
working order to St. Petersburg. It seemed to shorten the distance
between me and home when I knew that the electric current had a
continuous way to America. Puck would put a girdle round the earth in
forty minutes. From China to California, more than half the circuit of
the globe, we can flash a signal in a second of time, and gain by the
hands of the clock more than fourteen hours.

From the point of divergence the road to Kiachta ascends the valley of
the Selenga, while that to Irkutsk descends the left bank of the
stream. I found the Kiachta route rougher than any part of the way
from Chetah to Verkne Udinsk, and as the yemshick took us at a
rattling pace we were pretty thoroughly shaken up.

At the second station we had a dinner of _stchee_, or cabbage soup,
with bread and t