them.

These vast marshes of the Baraba, form the reservoir to all the
rain-water which finds no outlet either towards the Obi or towards the
Irtych. The soil of this vast depression is entirely argillaceous, and
therefore impermeable, so that the waters remain there and make of it
a region very difficult to cross during the hot season. There, however,
lies the way to Irkutsk, and it is in the midst of ponds, pools, lakes,
and swamps, from which the sun draws poisonous exhalations, that the
road winds, and entails upon the traveler the greatest fatigue and
danger.

Michael Strogoff spurred his horse into the midst of a grassy prairie,
differing greatly from the close-cropped sod of the steppe, where feed
the immense Siberian herds. The grass here was five or six feet in
height, and had made room for swamp-plants, to which the dampness of
the place, assisted by the heat of summer, had given giant proportions.
These were principally canes and rushes, which formed a tangled network,
an impenetrable undergrowth, sprinkled everywhere with a thousand
flowers remarkable for the brightness of their color.

Michael Strogoff, galloping amongst this undergrowth of cane, was no
longer visible from the swamps which bordered the road. The tall grass
rose above him, and his track was indicated only by the flight of
innumerable aquatic birds, which rose from the side of the road and
dispersed into the air in screaming flocks.

The way, however, was clearly traceable. Now it would lie straight
between the dense thicket of marsh-plants; again it would follow the
winding shores of vast pools, some of which, several versts in length
and breadth, deserve the name of lakes. In other localities the stagnant
waters through which the road lay had been avoided, not by bridges, but
by tottering platforms ballasted with thick layers of clay, whose
joists shook like a too weak plank thrown across an abyss. Some of these
platforms extended over three hundred feet, and travelers by tarantass,
when crossing them have experienced a nausea like sea-sickness.

Michael Strogoff, whether the soil beneath his feet was solid or whether
it sank under him, galloped on without halt, leaping the space between
the rotten joists; but however fast they traveled the horse and the
horseman were unable to escape from the sting of the two-winged insects
which infest this marshy country.

Travelers who are obliged to cross the Baraba during the summer take
care t