l, regardless of
the severest punishment. The trapper here told me that on one occasion
he observed, after one of these storms, an unusual mound of snow near
his dwelling, and extricated from it the frozen remains of a Yukagir
driver and five dogs. The former had lain down to die within fifty yards
of shelter and salvation.

The weather improved towards daybreak and enabled us to make an early
start. A hard day's travelling followed, for the wind had cleared the
river of snow, and we sledded over slippery black ice, which would have
made a schoolboy's mouth water, but sadly impeded the dogs. Nearing the
ocean the Kolyma widens by several miles, and here we made our first
acquaintance with the ice-hummocks or "torosses" formed by the breakers
of the Polar Sea. Towards sunset a black speck was sighted on the snowy
waste, and two hours later we reached Sukharno, the Tsar's remotest
outpost on the shores of the Arctic Ocean, about eight thousand miles
from Petersburg. Here there was a single hut, so low in stature and
buried in the drifts that we had to crawl into it through a tunnel of
snow. The occupant was an aged Cossack who lived amid surroundings that
would have revolted an English pig, but we often recalled even this
dark, fetid den as a palace of luxury in the gloomy days to come.

We were awakened the following morning by the roaring of the wind, for
another _poorga_ had swooped down during the night, which kept us
prisoners here for the three following days. It was madness to think of
starting in such weather, and there was nothing for it but to wait for
a lull, alternately smoking, sleeping, and cursing Mikouline, the cause
of the delay. Fortunately the hut was weather-proof, and but for
perpetual anxiety I could almost have enjoyed the rest and warmth out of
reach of the icy blast. But who could sit down in peace or sleep for
more than five consecutive minutes when tortured by the thought that the
_poorga_ might rage for an indefinite period and that the journey to
Tchaun Bay must occupy at least three weeks, while our stock of food was
slowly but surely diminishing? Even the scanty allowance I had fixed
upon for each man was doled out by Harding reluctantly, and with a
doubtful glance, as much as to say, "Will it last?" a question which for
the past week had dinned itself into my brain several thousand times
within the twenty-four hours. Here again Mikouline showed signs of
mutiny, and I was compelled to broac