probably due to the casual manner in which Stepan treated the
disease. When one animal had to be destroyed he coolly led it about at
the end of a string to find a suitable spot for its execution, and when
another went mad, and I was for despatching it, suggested that we could
ill spare it from the team for a few days longer! And yet,
notwithstanding these hourly difficulties, privations, and hardships, I
am proud to say that I never once heard a word of complaint from a
single member of my party, although those days of constant toil and
suffering in that grave of nature, the Arctic, might well have tried the
constitution of a Sandow and the patience of a Job! And I may add that
no leader of an expedition could wish for three more courageous and
unselfish companions than the Vicomte de Clinchamp, George Harding, and
last, but not least, the Cossack Stepan Rastorguyeff, whose invaluable
services throughout this journey will, I am informed, be suitably
rewarded by the Russian Government.

About one day in four was bright and sunny, and would have been almost
pleasant under other circumstances. Even our chicken-hearted drivers
would become less gloomy under the genial influence of bright sunshine,
and join together in the weird songs of their country until darkness
again fell, bringing with it disquieting fears of the murderous
Tchuktchi. Most of that memorable journey was made through a constant
succession of snowstorms, gales and _poorgas_. We met three of the
latter between the Kolyma River and Cape North, the last one striking us
on the twentieth day out, as we were crossing Tchaun Bay, on the eastern
shores of which I hoped to find a settlement. Although the weather just
before had been perfectly clear and calm, in five minutes we were at the
mercy of such a tempest that men and dogs were compelled to halt and
crouch under the sleds to escape its fury.

During a temporary lull we got under way again, and for seven of the
longest hours of my life we floundered on. As even a gentle zephyr up
here, blowing against the face, means considerable discomfort, and
anything like a gale, acute distress, the reader may imagine what it
meant to struggle against a howling _poorga_. During those terrible
hours one could only glance hastily to windward, for the hard and frozen
snow cut like a whip into cheeks and eyeballs. Every few minutes the
weak, half-starved dogs would lie down, and were only urged on by severe
punishment which