onsequently cannot by any possibility be seen from
the deck of a steamer. The elevations in question are simply a low range
of hills, called the Zhigulinskiya Gori. In Western Europe they would
not attract much attention, but "in the kingdom of the blind," as the
French proverb has it, "the one-eyed man is king"; and in a flat region
like Eastern Russia these hills form a prominent feature. Though they
have nothing of Alpine grandeur, yet their well-wooded slopes, coming
down to the water's edge--especially when covered with the delicate
tints of early spring, or the rich yellow and red of autumnal
foliage--leave an impression on the memory not easily effaced.

On the whole--with all due deference to the opinions of my patriotic
Russian friends--I must say that Volga scenery hardly repays the time,
trouble and expense which a voyage from Nizhni to Tsaritsin demands.
There are some pretty bits here and there, but they are "few and far
between." A glass of the most exquisite wine diluted with a gallon
of water makes a very insipid beverage. The deck of the steamer is
generally much more interesting than the banks of the river. There one
meets with curious travelling companions. The majority of the passengers
are probably Russian peasants, who are always ready to chat freely
without demanding a formal introduction, and to relate--with certain
restrictions--to a new acquaintance the simple story of their lives.
Often I have thus whiled away the weary hours both pleasantly and
profitably, and have always been impressed with the peasant's homely
common sense, good-natured kindliness, half-fatalistic resignation,
and strong desire to learn something about foreign countries. This
last peculiarity makes him question as well as communicate, and his
questions, though sometimes apparently childish, are generally to the
point.

Among the passengers are probably also some representatives of the
various Finnish tribes inhabiting this part of the country; they may be
interesting to the ethnologist who loves to study physiognomy, but they
are far less sociable than the Russians. Nature seems to have made them
silent and morose, whilst their conditions of life have made them shy
and distrustful. The Tartar, on the other hand, is almost sure to be
a lively and amusing companion. Most probably he is a peddler or small
trader of some kind. The bundle on which he reclines contains his
stock-in-trade, composed, perhaps, of cotton printed goo