urple of distance
Tinted and shadowed by pencils of air"--

as calm and bright in their snowy majesty as if the suspicion of
a storm had never attached to their smooth white slopes and sharp
pinnacles. The air, although intensely cold, was clear and bracing;
and as our dogs bounded at a gallop over the hard, broken road, the
exhilarating motion caused the very blood in our veins

"--to dance
Blithe as the sparkling wine of France."

About noon we came out of the mountains upon the sea beach and
overtook the postilion, who had stopped to rest his tired dogs. Our
own being fresh, we again took the lead, and drew rapidly near to the
valley of the Viliga.

I was just mentally congratulating myself upon our good fortune in
having clear weather to pass this dreaded point, when my attention was
attracted by a curious white cloud or mist, extending from the mouth
of the Viliga ravine far out over the black open water of the Okhotsk
Sea. Wondering what it could be, I pointed it out to our guide, and
inquired if it were fog. His face clouded up with anxiety as he
glanced at it, and replied laconically, "Viliga dooreet," or "The
mountains are fooling." This oracular response did not enlighten me
very much, and I demanded an explanation. I was then told, to my
astonishment and dismay, that the curious white mist which I had taken
to be fog was a dense driving cloud of snow, hurled out of the mouth
of the ravine by a storm, which had apparently just begun in the upper
gorges of the Stanavoi range. It would be impossible, our guide said,
to cross the valley, and dangerous to attempt it until the wind should
subside. I could not see either the impossibility or the danger, and
as there was another _yurt_ or shelter-house on the other side of the
ravine, I determined to go on and make the attempt at least to cross.
Where we were the weather was perfectly calm and still; a candle
would have burned in the open air without flickering; and I could
not realise the tremendous force of the hurricane which, only a mile
ahead, was vomiting snow out of the mouth of that ravine and carrying
it four miles to sea. Seeing that Leet and I were determined to cross
the valley, our guide shrugged his shoulders expressively, as much as
to say, "You will soon regret your haste," and we went on.

As we gradually approached the white curtain of mist, we began to feel
sharp intermittent puffs of wind and little whirlwinds of snow, which
increased