w beards, their high boots smeared with tar
instead of blacking, their rough caps pulled down over their eyes, and
their heavy sheep-skin frocks with the wool inside. But, queer as they
look, they are a merry set, laughing and joking unceasingly, and
enjoying the spectacle like a party of youths at a circus.

"Come, now, Meesha [Michael], here's an open course; let us have a race
across!"

"All right, Stepka [Stephen]; and as you're a friend of mine, I'll give
you a half-minute start."

And then follows a loud laugh, for a little fun goes a long way in
Russia.

But a sudden shout from one of the men draws everybody's attention, and
he is seen pointing to a huge sheet of ice some distance up the stream.
On its smooth white surface lies a dark, shapeless lump, perfectly
still; and guesses begin to fly from mouth to mouth as to what this can
be.

"A block of wood, I think."

"A dog, more likely."

"Too big--must be a bundle of hay."

A handsome young fellow, lately arrived in that district from the North,
presses to the front, and fixing his keen eyes for a moment upon the
mysterious object, says, emphatically, "Tchelovek!" (a man).

"A man?" echo two or three of his companions. "He must be frozen, then,
for he don't seem to move a bit."

"Feodor [Theodore] has the best eyes among us, though," puts in another.
"If he says a man, why, a man it must be."

"And so it is," shouts one who has run a little way up the bank; "and
he's alive, too, for I saw him move his head just now."

By this time the ice-block had come near enough to let the strange
object upon it be plainly seen. It was the figure of a man in a
sheep-skin frock, doubled up in a crouching posture.

"We must help him, lads," cries Feodor; "it won't do to let a man perish
before our eyes."

"Ah, my boy," answers an old man beside him, shaking his gray head,
"it's easy to say 'help him,' but how are we to do it? Crossing the
Volga when it's moving is not like dipping a spoon in a bowl of milk."

"I'll try it, anyhow," says Feodor, resolutely. "God cares for those who
care for each other. I'll just run and get out my boat."

But as he was starting off to do so, a shout from the rest made him turn
his head, and he saw something that stopped him short.

Just abreast of the spot where they stood three or four small islets, or
rather sand-banks, lay close together in the centre of the stream. The
huge fragment of ice upon which the man was crouchin