ted that our next news from home should not be brought by
the overland line, and should not be of such a nature as to make any
of us "feel gay."

On the evening of May 31, 1867, as I sat trying to draw a
topographical map in the little one-story log house which served as
the headquarters of the Asiatic Division, I was interrupted by the
sudden and hasty entrance of my friend and comrade Mr. Lewis, who
rushed into the room crying excitedly: "O Mr. Kennan! Did you hear
the cannon?" I had not heard it, but I understood instantly the
significance of the inquiry. A cannon-shot meant that there was a ship
in sight from the beacon-tower at the mouth of the river. We were
accustomed, every spring, to get our earliest news from the civilised
world through American whaling vessels, which resort at that season of
the year to the Okhotsk Sea. About the middle of May, therefore, we
generally sent a couple of Cossacks to the harbour at the mouth of
the river, with instructions to keep a sharp lookout from the log
beacon-tower on the bluff, and fire three cannon-shots the moment they
should see a whaler or other vessel cruising in the Gulf.

In less than ten minutes, the news that there was a vessel in sight
from the beacon-tower had reached every house in the village, and a
little group of Cossacks gathered at the landing-place, where a boat
was being prepared to take Lewis, Robinson, and me to the sea-coast.
Half an hour later we were gliding swiftly down the river in one of
the light skiffs known in that part of Siberia as "lodkas." We had a
faint hope that the ship which had been signalled would prove to
be one of our own vessels; but even if she should turn out to be a
whaler, she would at least bring us late news from the outside world,
and we felt a burning curiosity to know what had been the result of
the second attempt to lay the Atlantic cable. Had our competitors
beaten us, or was there still a fighting chance that we might beat
them?

We reached the mouth of the river late in the evening, and were met at
the landing by one of the Cossacks from the beacon-tower.

"What ship is it?" I inquired.

"We don't know," he replied. "We saw dark smoke, like the smoke of a
steamer, off Matuga Island just before we fired the cannon, but in a
little while it blew away and we have seen nothing since."

"If it's a whaler trying out oil," said Robinson, "we'll find her
there in the morning."

Leaving the Cossack to take our baggag