osing upon the dazzling brightness of the celestial city.
Presently it faded away again to a faint diffused glow in the north,
and one pale-green streamer, slender and bright as the spear of
Ithuriel, pushed slowly up toward the zenith until it touched with its
translucent point the jewelled belt of Orion; then it, too, faded and
vanished, and nothing but a bank of pale white mist on the northern
horizon showed the location of the celestial armory whence the arctic
spirits drew the gleaming swords and lances which they shook and
brandished nightly over the lonely Siberian steppes. Crawling back
into my bag as the aurora disappeared, I fell asleep, and did not wake
until near morning. With the first streak of dawn the camp began to
show signs of animation. The dogs crawled out of the deep holes which
their warm bodies had melted in the snow; the Cossacks poked their
heads out of their frosty fur coats, and whipped off with little
sticks the mass of frost which had accumulated around their
breathing-holes; a fire was built, tea boiled, and we crawled out of
our sleeping-bags to shiver around the fire and eat a hasty breakfast
of rye-bread, dried fish, and tea. In twenty minutes the dogs were
harnessed, sledges packed, and runners covered with ice, and one after
another we drove away at a brisk trot from the smoking fire, and began
another day's journey across the barren steppe.

In this monotonous routine of riding, camping, and sleeping on the
snow, day after day slowly passed until, on December 20th, we arrived
at the Settled Korak village of Shestakova, near the head of Penzhinsk
Gulf. From this point our Gizhiga Cossacks were to return, and here we
were to wait until the expected sledges from Penzhina should arrive.
We lowered our bedding, pillows, camp-equipage, and provisions down
through the chimney hole of the largest _yurt_ in the small village,
arranged them as tastefully as possible on the wide wooden platform
which extended out from the wall on one side, and made ourselves as
comfortable as darkness, smoke, cold, and dirt would permit.

[Illustration: Korak Adzes]

CHAPTER XXIV

DISMAL SHELTER--ARRIVAL OF A COSSACK COURIER AMERICANS ON THE
ANADYR--ARCTIC FIREWOOD A SIBERIAN BLIZZARD LOST ON THE STEPPE

Our short stay at Shestakova, while waiting for the Penzhina sledges,
was dismal and lonesome beyond expression. It began to storm furiously
about noon on the 20th, and the violent wind swept up suc