However, the same life gave me much matter for reflection and yet more occupation for the physical side.  It was a continuous struggle for existence, hard and severe.  The hardest work was the preparation of the big logs for the naida.  The fallen trunks of the trees were covered with snow and frozen to the ground.  I was forced to dig them out and afterwards, with the help of a long stick as a lever, to move them from their place.  For facilitating this work I chose the mountain for my supplies, where, although difficult to climb, it was easy to roll the logs down.  Soon I made a splendid discovery.  I found near my den a great quantity of larch, this beautiful yet sad forest giant, fallen during a big storm.  The trunks were covered with snow but remained attached to their stumps, where they had broken off.  When I cut into these stumps with the ax, the head buried itself and could with difficulty be drawn and, investigating the reason, I found them filled with pitch.  Chips of this wood needed only a spark to set them aflame and ever afterward I always had a stock of them to light up quickly for warming my hands on returning from the hunt or for boiling my tea.

The greater part of my days was occupied with the hunt.  I came to understand that I must distribute my work over every day, for it distracted me from my sad and depressing thoughts.  Generally, after my morning tea, I went into the forest to seek heathcock or blackcock.  After killing one or two I began to prepare my dinner, which never had an extensive menu.  It was constantly game soup with a handful of dried bread and afterwards endless cups of tea, this essential beverage of the woods.  Once, during my search for birds, I heard a rustle in the dense shrubs and, carefully peering about, I discovered the points of a deer’s horns.  I crawled along toward the spot but the watchful animal heard my approach.  With a great noise he rushed from the bush and I saw him very clearly, after he had run about three hundred steps, stop on the slope of the mountain.  It was a splendid animal with dark grey coat, with almost a black spine and as large as a small cow.  I laid my rifle across a branch and fired.  The animal made a great leap, ran several steps and fell.  With all my strength I ran to him but he got up again and half jumped, half dragged himself up the mountain.  The second shot stopped him.  I had won a warm carpet for my den and a large stock of meat.  The horns I fastened up among the branches of my wall, where they made a fine hat rack.

I cannot forget one very interesting but wild picture, which was staged for me several kilometres from my den.  There was a small swamp covered with grass and cranberries scattered through it, where the blackcock and sand partridges usually came to feed on the berries.  I approached noiselessly behind the bushes and saw a whole flock of blackcock scratching in the snow and picking out the berries.  While I was surveying this scene, suddenly one of the blackcock jumped up