On they went over the arid plain, which, however, affords nourishment for some trees, fording rivers, floundering through marshes, and still meeting some wretched apology for grass, when, on the third day, down came the snow in a pelting cloud, and the whole desert changed in an instant from somber gray to white.  The real winter was come.  Now all Sakalar’s intelligence was required.  Almost every obvious sign by which to find his way had disappeared, and he traversed the plain wholly guided by distant hills, and by observing the stars at night.  This Sakalar did assiduously, and when he had once started under the guidance of the twinkling lights of the heavens, rarely was he many yards out at the next halt.  He always chose the side of a hillock to camp, where there was a tree or two, and half-rotten trunks with bushes to make a huge fire.

It was nearly dawn on the fifth morning after entering the plain, and Ivan and Kolina yet slept.  But Sakalar slept not.  They had nearly reached the extremity of the horrible desert, but a new danger occupied the thoughts of the hunter.  They were now in the track of the wild and savage Tchouktchas, and their fire might have betrayed them.  Had Sakalar been alone, he would have slept in the snow without fire; for he knew the peril of an encounter with the independent Tchouktchas, who have only recently been nominally brought into subjection to Russia.

The heavy fall of snow of the two previous days rendered the danger greater.  Sakalar sat gravely upon a fallen tree—­a pipe in his mouth, and his eye fixed on the distant horizon.  For some time nothing remarkable caught his gaze; but at last he saw a number of dark objects on the snow, galloping directly toward the camp.  Sakalar at once recognized a number of reindeer.  It was the Tchouktchas on their sledges, bounding with lightning speed along the frozen surface!

“Up!” cried the hunter.  And when his companions were on their feet, “Quick with your guns!  The enemy are on us!  But show a bold front, and let them feel the weight of lead!”

Ivan and Kolina quietly took up their post, and awaited the orders of Sakalar.  No time was lost, and fortunately, for the savages were already near, and were the next minute alighting from their sledges:  hand in hand they advanced along the snow, with their long ice shoes, to the number of a dozen.  A simultaneous discharge of the heavy-metalled guns of the camp—­one of which, that of Sakalar, wounded the foremost man—­checked their career, and they fell back to hold a conference.  It became evident at once that they had no firearms, which removed almost all idea of danger.  Ivan and Kolina now proceeded to load the horses, and when all was ready, the whole party mounted, and rode off, followed at a respectful distance by the Siberian Arabs.