return trip with passengers. After watching for a quarter of an hour the struggles of this boat with the ice, Mr. Frost and I decided that it would be hazardous to attempt, in an open skiff, the passage of a rapid and ice-choked river half a mile wide, even if the boatman were willing to take us; and we therefore sought shelter in the small log house of a young Russian peasant named Záblikof, who good-humoredly consented to give us a night's lodging provided we had no objection to sleeping on the floor with the members of his family. We were too much exhausted and too nearly frozen to object to anything; and as for sleeping on the floor, we had become so accustomed to it that we should have felt out of place if we had tried to sleep anywhere else. We therefore had our baggage transported to Záblikof's house, and in half an hour were comfortably drinking tea in the first decently clean room we had seen since leaving Nérchinsk.
We devoted most of the remainder of the day to a discussion of our situation and of the possibility of reaching the Kará mines at that season of the year by an overland journey across the mountains.
Descending the river in a boat was manifestly impracticable on account of the great quantity of running ice; we could not waste two or three weeks in inaction, and the horseback ride to the mines over the mountains seemed to be the only feasible alternative. There were, on our side of the river, a few horses that Záblikof thought might be hired; but they belonged to a merchant who lived in Strétinsk, and in order to get permission to use them, as well as to obtain the necessary saddles and equipments and secure the services of a guide, it would be necessary to cross the Shílka to the town. This, in the existing condition of the river, was a somewhat perilous undertaking; but Záblikof offered to accompany me with two or three of his men, and early Thursday morning we carried his light, open skiff down to the beach for the purpose of making the attempt.
