On the road west of Irkutsk the rules require each smotretal to keep ten teams or thirty horses, ready for use.  Many of them have more than that number, and the villages can supply any ordinary demand after the regular force is exhausted.  Fourteen yemshicks are kept at every station, and always ready for service.  They are boarded at the expense of the smotretal, and receive about five roubles each per month, with as much drink-money as they can obtain.  Frequently they make two journeys a day to the next station, returning without loads.  They appeared on the most amiable terms with each other, and I saw no quarreling over their work.

On our first and second nights from Irkutsk the weather was cold, the thermometer standing at fifteen or twenty degrees below zero.  On the third day the temperature rose quite rapidly, and by noon it was just below the freezing point.  Our furs designed for cold weather became uncomfortably warm, and I threw off my outer garments and rode in my sheepskin coat.  In the evening we experienced a feeling of suffocation on closing the sleigh, and were glad to open it again.  We rode all night with the wind beating pleasantly against our faces, and from time to time lost our consciousness in sleep.  For nearly two days the warm weather continued, and subjected us to inconveniences.  We did not travel as rapidly as in the colder days, the road being less favorable, and the horses diminishing their energy with the increased warmth.  Some of our provisions were in danger of spoiling as they were designed for transportation only in a frozen state.

Between Nijne Udinsk and Kansk the snow was scanty, and the road occasionally bad.  The country preserved its slightly undulating character, and presented no features of interest.  Where we found sufficient snow we proceeded rapidly, sometimes leaving the summer road and taking to the open ground, and forests on either side.  We pitched into a great many oukhabas, analagous to American “hog wallows” or “cradle holes.”  To dash into one of these at full speed gives a shock like a boat’s thumping on the shore.  It is only with pillows, furs, and hay that a traveler can escape contusions.  In mild doses oukhabas are an excellent tonic, but the traveler who takes them in excess may easily imagine himself enjoying a field-day at Donnybrook Fair.

[Illustration:  JUMPING CRADLE HOLES.]

An hour before reaching Kansk one of our horses fell dead and brought us to a sudden halt.  The yemshick tried various expedients to discover signs of life but to no purpose.  Paul and I formed a board of survey, and sat upon the beast; the other sleighs passed us during our consultation, and were very soon out of sight.  When satisfied that the animal, as a horse, was of no further use, the yemshick pulled him to the roadside, stripped off his harness, and proceeded with our reduced team.  I asked who was responsible for the loss, and was told it was no affair of ours.  The government pays for horses killed in the service of couriers, as these gentlemen compel very high speed.  On a second or third rate padaroshnian the death of a horse is the loss of its owner.  Horses are not expensive in this region, an ordinary roadster being worth from fifteen to twenty roubles.