rough and the instrument-box, determined to
prove our appreciation of Korak hospitality by eating everything which
offered itself. The bowl with its strange-looking contents arrested,
of course, the attention of the observant Dodd, and, poking it
inquiringly with a long-handled spoon, he turned to Viushin, who, as
_chef-de-cuisine_, was supposed to know all about it, and demanded:

"What's this you've got?"

"That?" answered Viushin, promptly, "that's _kasha_" (hasty pudding
made of rice).

"_Kasha_!" exclaimed Dodd, contemptuously. "It looks more like the
stuff that the children of Israel made bricks of. They don't seem to
have wanted for straw, either," he added, as he fished up several
stems of dried grass. "What is it, anyhow?"

"That," said Viushin again, with a comical assumption of learning, "is
the celebrated 'Jamuk chi a la Poosteretsk,' the national dish of the
Koraks, made from the original recipe of His High Excellency
Oollcot Ootkoo Minyegeetkin, Grand Hereditary Taiyon and Vwisokee
Prevoskhodeetelstvo--"

"Hold on!" exclaimed Dodd, with a deprecating gesture, "that's enough,
I'll eat it"; and taking out a halfspoonful of the dark viscid mass,
he put it to his lips.

"Well," said we expectantly, after a moment's pause, "what does it
taste like?"

"Like the mud pies of infancy!" he replied sententiously. "A little
salt, pepper, and butter, and a good deal of meat and flour, with a
few well selected vegetables, would probably improve it; but it isn't
particularly bad as it is."

Upon the strength of this rather equivocal recommendation I tasted it.
Aside from a peculiar earthy flavour, it had nothing about it which
was either pleasant or disagreeable. Its qualities were all negative
except its grassiness, which alone gave character and consistency to
the mass.

The mixture, known among the Koraks as _manyalla,_ is eaten by all
the Siberian tribes as a substitute for bread, and is the nearest
approximation which native ingenuity can make to the staff of life. It
is valued, we were told, more for its medicinal virtues than for
any intrinsic excellence of taste, and our limited experience fully
prepared us to believe the statement. Its original elements are
clotted blood, tallow, and half-digested moss, taken from the stomach
of the reindeer, where it is supposed to have undergone some essential
change which fits it for second-hand consumption. These curious and
heterogeneous ingredients are boiled