Then  stretching  ourselves  out  in  luxurious  style  upon  our


316  RUSSIAN  NIHILISM  AND

bearskin  carpet,  with  our  feet  to  the  fire  and  our  backs
against  pillows,  we  smoked,  drank  tea,  and  told  stones
in  perfect  comfort.  After  supper  the  natives  piled  dry
branches  of  trailing  pine  upon  the  fire  until  it  sent  up  a
column  of  flame  ten  feet  in  height,  and  then,  squatted  in
their  favorite  position  around  the  blaze,  they  would  sing
fot'  hours  the  wild,  melancholy  songs  of  the  Kamchadals,
or  tell  never-ending  stories  of  hardship  and  adventure  on
the  coast  of  the  ley  Sea.  At  last,  the  great  constella-
tion of  Orion  marked  bed-time.  Our  stockings  were
taken  off  and  dried  by  the  fire,  the  dogs  were  fed  their
daily  allowance  of  dried  fish  each,  and  putting  on  our
heaviest  fur  coats,  we  crawled  feet  first  into  our  wolfskin
bags,  pulled  them  up  over  our  heads,  and  slept.
*' A  camp,  in  the  middle  of  a  dark,  cl-ear  winter's  night,
presents  a  strange,  wild  appearance.  Imagine,  if  you
can,  that  you  have  waked  up  at  some  unknown  hour
after  midnight,  and  have  thrust  your  head  out  of  your
frosty  fur  bag,  to  see  by  the  stars  what  time  it  is.  The
fire  has  died  away  to  a  few  glowing  embers.  There  is
just  light  enough  to  distinguish  the  dark,  crouching  forms
of  the  natives,  some  sitting  upon  their  heels,  with  their
backs  against  sledges,  some  squatting  in  a  row  bj'"  the
fire,  and  all  asleep.  Away  beyond  the  limits  of  the  camp
stretches  .the  desolate  steppe  in  a  series  of  long  snowy
waves,  which  blend  gradually  into  a  great  white  frozen
.ocean,  and  are  lost  in  the  distance  and  darkness  of  night.
