ctorial sketches of Virginian life and scenery from the skilful
pencil of Porte Crayon. I thought of the well-known lines of Pope:

"The things, we know, are neither rich nor rare,
But wonder how the d---- they came there."

In such comfortable, not to say luxurious, quarters as these, we
succeeded, of course, in passing away pleasantly the remainder of the
day.

At Kluchei we were called upon to decide what route we would adopt in
our journey to the northward. The shortest, and in many respects the
best, was that usually taken by the Russian traders--crossing the
central range of mountains to Tigil (tee-gill'), by the pass of the
Yolofka (yo-loff'-ka), and then following up the west coast of the
peninsula to the head of the Okhotsk Sea. The only objections to this
were the lateness of the season and the probability of finding deep
snow in the mountain passes. Our only alternative was to continue
our journey from Kluchei up the eastern coast to a settlement called
Dranka (dran'-kah), where the mountains sank into insignificant hills,
and cross there to the Kamchadal village of Lesnoi (less-noi') on the
Okhotsk Sea. This route was considerably longer than the one by the
Yolofka pass, but its practicability was much more certain.

After a great many prolonged consultations with sundry natives, who
were supposed to know something about the country, but who carefully
avoided responsibility by telling as little as possible, the Major
concluded to try the Yolofka pass, and ordered canoes to be ready on
Saturday morning to carry us up the Yolofka River.

At the worst, we could only fail to get over the mountains, and there
would be time enough then to return to Kluchei, and try the other
route before the opening of winter.

As soon as we had decided the momentous question of our route, we gave
ourselves up to the unrestrained enjoyment of the few pleasures
which the small and sedate village of Kluchei afforded. There was
no afternoon promenade where we could, as the Russians say, "show
ourselves and see the people"; nor would an exhibition of our tattered
and weather-stained garments on a public promenade have been quite the
proper thing, had it been possible. We must try something else. The
only places of amusement of which we could hear were the village
bath-house and the church; and the Major and I started out, late in
the afternoon, with the intention of "doing" these points of interest
in the most approved styl