was, of course, the Siberian; but, in spite of his importance as the chief trader in wool and native produce, he seemed so absorbed by his surroundings that, though European still in face, his life and habits were far more Asiatic. In this place, it seemed, the Tartars were becoming Russified, and the Russians becoming, to some extent at anyrate, Tartarified. Among the Siberians here were several who were by no means anxious to return to Siberia. Some of them, I gathered, were wanted for the completion of their terms of military service, and perhaps for other offences of a more serious kind. Here they were in a sort of voluntary exile, for no one seemed to trouble much about them. A Russian official came over once a year to settle any disputes arising among Russian subjects, but it was not difficult to avoid him in such a country as this, and meanwhile they were making a living by trading with the natives. There were always two types of Siberian wool trader. One, for instance, only came for a few weeks from Siberia, with the object of picking up all the surplus wool and skins of low quality, which they could bring back to Siberia and sell in the autumn fairs. They were living in temporary felt tents, just like the native Tartars. The Siberians of the other type spent most of the year in this country, and had built for themselves permanent log-houses of the typical Siberian kind. Some of them, finding logs scarce, had run up walls of mud and wattle with roofs thatched with rush, in partial imitation of the Chinese houses. On entering these houses I always found a typical Russian room. A comfortable, homely feeling came over me as I entered, all the more welcome after many days of weary trekking
