“What in the name of Chort [Footnote:  The Devil.] is the matter?” demanded Dodd in Russian, as he extricated Viushin’s head from the folds of the skin curtain in which it had become enveloped.  “You back out as if Shaitan and all his imps were after you!”—­“You don’t suppose,” responded Viushin, with excited gestures, “that I’m going to stay in that hole and be eaten up by Korak dogs?  If I was foolish enough to go in, I’ve got discretion enough to know when to come out.  I don’t believe the hole leads anywhere, anyhow,” he added apologetically; “and it’s all full of dogs.”  With a quick perception of Viushin’s difficulties and a grin of amusement at his discomfiture, our Korak guide entered the hole, drove out the dogs, and lifting up an inner curtain, allowed the red light of the fire to stream through.  Crawling on hands and knees a distance of twelve or fifteen feet through the low doorway, we entered the large open circle in the interior of the tent.  A crackling fire of resinous pine boughs burned brightly upon the ground in the centre, illuminating redly the framework of black, glossy poles, and flickering fitfully over the dingy skins of the roof and the swarthy tattooed faces of the women who squatted around.  A large copper kettle, filled with some mixture of questionable odour and appearance, hung over the blaze, and furnished occupation to a couple of skinny, bare-armed women, who with the same sticks were alternately stirring its contents, poking up the fire, and knocking over the head two or three ill-conditioned but inquisitive dogs.  The smoke, which rose lazily from the fire, hung in a blue, clearly defined cloud about five feet from the ground, dividing the atmosphere of the tent into a lower stratum of comparatively clear air, and an upper cloud region where smoke, vapours, and ill odours contended for supremacy.

The location of the little pure air which the yurt afforded made the boyish feat of standing upon one’s head a very desirable accomplishment; and as the pungent smoke filled my eyes to the exclusion of everything else except tears, I suggested to Dodd that he reverse the respective positions of his head and feet, and try it—­he would escape the smoke and sparks from the fire, and at the same time obtain a new and curious optical effect.  With the sneer of contempt which always met even my most valuable suggestions, he replied that I might try my own experiments, and throwing himself down at full length on the ground, he engaged in the interesting diversion of making faces at a Korak baby.  Viushin’s time, as soon as his eyes recovered a little from the effects of the smoke, was about equally divided between preparations for our evening meal, and revengeful blows at the stray dogs which ventured in his vicinity; while the Major, who was probably the most usefully employed member of the party, negotiated for the exclusive possession of a polog.  The temperature of a Korak tent in winter seldom ranges above 20 deg.