th cold in a temperature of
nearly 45 deg. below zero, accompanied by a strong breeze which resembled
one described by a friend of the writer, a Chantilly trainer, as a lazy
wind, viz., one that prefers to go straight through the body instead of
the longest way round. To descend, the deer were fastened behind the
sleds, which we all held back as much as possible as they dashed down
the incline. But nearing the valley the pace increased until all control
was lost, and we landed in a deep snow-drift half-way down, men, deer,
and sleds being muddled up in inextricable confusion. I remember
thinking at the time what a fortune such a snow-slide would make for its
proprietor at Earl's Court. Imagine an "ice chute" more than a mile in
length. To stand upright was even now, half-way down the mountain, out
of the question, so the rest of the perilous descent was ignominiously
accomplished on all-fours. We reached the valley in safety, followed by
the sleds, which were now restrained only by drivers and deer. From
below they looked like flies crawling down a white wall. At this point
the Verkhoyansk mountains are about 4500 ft. above the level of the sea.

Leaving the mountains we were soon lost in the forests again, and from
here to Kangerak, the first station on the northern side of the range,
the journey is one of wondrous beauty, for the country strikingly
resembles Swiss Alpine scenery. In cloudless weather we glided swiftly
and silently under arches of pine-boughs sparkling with hoar-frost, now
skirting a dizzy precipice, now crossing a deep, dark gorge, rare rifts
in the woods disclosing glimpses of snowy crag and summit glittering
against a sky of cloudless blue. The sunny pastures and tinkling
cow-bells of lovely Switzerland were wanting, but I can never forget the
impressive grandeur of those desolate peaks, nor the weird, unearthly
stillness of the lonely, pine-clad valleys at their feet.

We passed a comfortable night at Kangerak, for the long, fatiguing day
had rendered us oblivious to the attacks of the vermin with which the
_stancia_ swarmed. My ears had been badly frost-bitten crossing the pass
and caused me great pain, but I slept soundly, and so did my companions
who had escaped scot-free. Only one circumstance marred my satisfaction
at having successfully negotiated the pass; three of our deer had
perished from exhaustion. From Kangerak we travelled some distance along
the river Yana, which scatters itself into