one riding the leading horse, and the other the hindmost one. These drivers have no easy task: the horses sometimes stick fast in the morasses, or stumble on the rocks and among the precipices, or break loose and try to roll off their burdens; and the men must be ever on the watch to remedy such disasters. Long practice, however, makes them so expert at this, that an experienced Jakut will sometimes take the sole charge of twenty-eight horses, and bring them in safe. In such case, of course, he has to be more on foot than on horseback.

As the party proceeded but slowly, I rode ahead with my two companions, and came to several little lakes swarming with wild-fowl, of which we soon shot several for our supper. At the close of the day we reached another post-station, where we were to pass the night. As the jurte was filled with men and cattle, I was glad to avoid the closeness and other inconveniences within, and passed a very comfortable night under the larch-trees, with my bearskin for a mattress, a covering of furs, and a bright blazing fire. The next morning being clear and frosty, 280 Fahrenheit felt rather cold in dressing, and I thought, with something of a shudder, of the approaching winter, when several degrees below freezing would be called by the natives warm weather. Man, however, is a creature formed for all climates, and necessity and resolution soon reconcile him to anything. Only a few weeks later, and I myself had learned to think eighteen or twenty degrees below the freezing point as quite mild.

Tea and soup being prepared, breakfast was eaten while the horses were loading, and we resumed our journey. Our way led over a hill covered with pines, and I noticed that several old trees near the path had tufts of horsehair fastened to their branches, and that a number of sticks were stuck in the ground near them. The leading postillion here got off his horse, plucked a few hairs from his mane, and

VALLEY OF MIORO.

35

fastened them to one of the branches with much solemnity. He told us that this was a customary offering to the spirit of the mountain to obtain his protection during the journey, and that foot-passengers placed a stick in the ground with the same intention. This is a general practice among the Jakuti, and is even persevered in by many who have professed Christianity. My Jakuti sang almost incessantly. Their style of singing is monotonous, and rather melancholy, and is quite characteristic of this gloomy and superstitious people: their songs describe the beauties of the landscape in terms which appeared to me not a little exaggerated, and which I attributed at first to a poetic imagination; but my sergeant informed me it was customary thus to try to propitiate the spirit of the mountain by flattering encomiums on his territory.

We made this day sixty-three wersts with one change of horses. The jurte where we were to sleep had been so highly praised for its roominess, convenience, and, above all, its cleanliness, that I expected an excellent night's rest; but, though heavy rain obliged me to stay within it, I found in this, as in every other case, that one must be a native-born Jakut to find the atmosphere of such a place endurable.

We passed the next day numerous little lakes, which gave a peculiarly pleasing character to the landscape, from their regular oval form, their high wooded banks, and the mirror-like stillness of their sheltered waters, broken only by the plash of the startled wild-fowl. When we had gone about forty wersts, we came to the valley of Miörö or Mjure, which was one of the most interesting spots that I met with in my journey.

This valley has a tolerably regular oval form, and is eight wersts in diameter. It is entirely surrounded by a kind of wall, which is in some places ten fathoms high, and must have been at some former

period the bank of a considerable lake, now dry. There are, indeed, still in the lowest part of the valley some small but very deep lakes, abounding in fish. This, with its sheltered situation and luxuriant pasture, induced a rich Tungusian chief, named Miörö, to settle here with his tribe. They were subsequently, however, driven out by Jakuti who came from the south, but the valley still preserves the name. It is one of the most populous and flourishing settlements between the Lena and the Aldan. Numerous jurti, some approaching to the dimensions of Russian houses, two good churches with towers, the bustle of a considerable number of inhabitants, and large droves of cattle and horses, offered a striking contrast with the surrounding desert. This remarkable settlement owes much of its prosperity to the Jakutian golowa or superintendent, who has built and endowed the two churches at his own expense. Though his fortune, it is said, amounts to half a million of roubles, he has in no respect altered his original national customs. He lives in a jurte, warms himself by a true Jakutian tschuwal or open hearth, drinks his kumys,* eats horseflesh, and in everything but in his profession of the Christian religion, keeps close to the manners of his forefathers. The chief branches of industry in this place are the care of cattle, the chase, the fur-trade, and the breeding of horses.

I will notice here, in passing, a few of the principal characteristics of this people. Their countenance and language fully confirm the tradition of their Tartar descent. They are properly a pasto

*This well-known beverage, prepared from mares' milk, is made here in the same manner as in Tartary; only the Jakuti have happily not learned, like the Tartars, to make it intoxicating. It is an agreeable beverage, and so nourishing that a couple of large skins full of kumys, hung to the saddle, are often the only provisions taken for a foraging excursion of several days.

According to this tradition, their ancestor was a Tartar

FOOD OF THE INHABITANTS.

37

ral people, whose chief riches consist in the num ber of their horses and horned cattle, on the produce of which they subsist almost entirely. But the abundance of fur-animals in their vast forests, and the profit which they can make by selling their skins to the Russians, have turned much of their at tention to the chase, of which they are often passionately fond, and which they follow with unwea ried ardour and admirable skill. Accustomed from infancy to the privations incident to their severe climate, they disregard hardships of every kind. They appear absolutely insensible to cold, and their endurance of hunger is such as to be almost incredible.

Their food consists of sour cows' milk, mares' milk, of beef, and of horseflesh. They boil their meat, but never roast or bake it, and bread is unknown among them. Fat is their greatest delicacy, and they eat it in every possible shape; raw, melted, fresh, or spoiled. In general, indeed, they regard quantity more than quality in their food. They grate the inner bark of the larch, and sometimes of the fir, and mix it with fish, a little meal and milk, or, in preference, with fat, and make it into a sort of broth, which they consume in large quantities. They prepare from cows' milk what is called Jakutian butter, which is in reality more like cheese or curd, and has a sourish taste: it is not very rich, and is a very good article of food eaten alone.

Both men and women are passionately fond of smoking tobacco, preferring the most pungent kinds, especially the Circassian. They swallow the smoke, and it produces a kind of stupefaction closely resembling intoxication; and if provoked when in this state, the consequences are often dangerous. Brannamed Sachalar, who came from his own country on the other side of the mountains to Kirenga on the Lena, where he settled and married a Tungusian woman; the Jakuti still call themselves Sachalary.

D

dy is also used, though the long inland carriage makes it extremely dear. The Russian traders konw how to avail themselves of these tastes in their traffic for furs.

The Jakutian habitations are of two kinds. In summer they dwell in what they call urossy, which are light circular tents formed of poles and covered with birch-bark, which they strip from the trees in large pieces. These are first softened by boiling, and then sewed together; and the outside of the urossy, from the colour of the bark being white, have a very pleasing appearance, and at a distance resemble large canvass tents. In the summer they wander about with these in search of the finest pastures; and while their cattle are feeding, they themselves are incessantly employed in collecting the requisite store of winter forage.

At the approach of that season they take possession of their warm jurti. These are cottages formed of thin boards in the shape of a truncated pyramid, and covered thickly on the outside with sticks, grass, and mud. A couple of small openings, which admit a scanty light, are closed in winter with plates of ice, and in summer with fish-membrane or oiled paper. The floor is generally of beaten mud, and is sunk two or three feet below the surface of the ground; but people in better circumstances have it raised and boarded. There are wide permanent benches round the walls, which serve for seats in the daytime, and for sleeping on at night; and they are generally partitioned off for this purpose, according to the number of occupants. In the middle, but rather nearest the door, is the tschuwal, a kind of open hearth with a chimney up to the roof, where a fire is constantly kept burning. Clothing, arms, and a few household articles hang round the walls, but in general the greatest disorder and want of cleanliness prevail.

Outside there are usually sheds for the cows,