nquest, not a soul returned, nor has their fate ever been
ascertained."--"Frozen Asia," by Professor Eden.]

[Footnote 61: The fur-tax formerly paid to the Crown by the Yakutes and
other Siberian races.]

It is a far cry from Bering Straits to Borneo, and I was therefore
surprised to find many points of resemblance between the coast
Tchuktchis and the Dyaks of that tropical island, with whom I became
well acquainted some years ago while in the service of Raja Brooke. The
Tchuktchi is perhaps physically stronger than the Dyak--unquestionably
he is, by nature, a greater drunkard--but otherwise these races might
pass for each other so far as features, complexion and characteristics
are concerned. And although I have heard men assert that the Tchuktchis
originally migrated to Asia from the American continent, my own
experience leads me to doubt that this fact, the more so that there is
not an atom of resemblance (save perhaps in a partiality for strong
drink) between the Eskimo of Alaska and their Siberian neighbours. As a
rule the coast native is intelligent, and of strong and graceful build,
owing to his life of almost ceaseless activity; out in all weathers, in
summer fighting the furious gales of the Arctic in skin boats, in winter
tracking the seal, walrus or bear, sometimes for days together, amid the
cold, dark silence of the ice. Towards springtime this becomes a
dangerous occupation, for floes are often detached without warning and
carried away from the main pack into Bering Sea, whence there is
generally no return, although marvellous escapes are recorded. Yemanko,
the chief's son, had lived for six days floating about on a block of
ice, and subsisting upon a seal which he had caught before he was swept
into Bering Sea, eventually grounding near East Cape. His only companion
was frozen to death.

I was relieved to find that the country between this and Koari's village
(about three hundred miles south) was now impassable on account of
melting snow, for, if only for the sake of revenge, this wily old thief
would probably have set the natives here against us. Communication
between the two places had been frequent throughout the winter, and
Koari's son, Oyurapok (a deadly enemy of mine), had lately been at
Whalen, but had of course ignored my movements.[62] An Oumwaidjik man,
however, who accompanied him had remained here on account of sickness.
He was almost a lad and therefore knew nothing of Harding and myself,