he caviar of the Selenga. This caviar is of a golden
color and made from the roe of a small fish that ascends from Lake
Baikal. It is not as well liked as the caviar of the Volga and Amoor,
the egg being less rich than that of the sturgeon, though about the
same size. If I may judge from what I saw, there is less care taken in
its preparation than in that of the Volga.

The road ascended the Selenga, but the valley was so wide and we kept
so near its edge that the river was not often visible. The valley is
well peopled and yields finely to the agriculturalist. Some of the
farms appeared quite prosperous and their owners well-to-do in the
world. The general appearance was not unlike that of some parts of the
Wabash country, or perhaps better still, the region around Marysville,
Kansas. Russian agriculture does not exhibit the care and economy of
our states where land is expensive. There is such abundance of soil in
Siberia that every farmer can have all he desires to cultivate. Many
farms along the Selenga had a 'straggling' appearance, as if too large
for their owners. _Per contra_, I saw many neat and well managed
homesteads, with clean and comfortable dwellings.

With better implements of husbandry and a more thorough working of the
soil, the peasants along the Selenga would find agriculture a sure
road to wealth. Under the present system of cultivation the valley is
pleasing to the eye of a traveler who views it with reference to its
practical value. There were flocks of sheep, droves of cattle and
horses, and stacks of hay and grain; everybody was apparently well fed
and the houses were attractive. We had good horses, good drivers, and
generally good roads for the first hundred versts. Sometimes we left
the Selenga, but kept generally parallel to its course. The mountains
beyond the valley were lofty and clearly defined. Frequently they
presented striking and beautiful scenery, and had I been a skillful
artist they would have tempted me to sketch them.

The night came upon us cold and with a strong wind blowing from the
north. We wrapped ourselves closely and were quite comfortable, the
dog actually lolling beneath our sheepskin coverlid. Approaching
Selenginsk we found a few bits of bad road and met long caravans laden
with tea for Irkutsk.

These caravans were made up of little two-wheeled carts, each drawn by
a single horse. From six to ten chests of tea, according to the
condition of the roads, are piled on