"When I am dead," he said one day to Godfrey, who was watching him, "they will send this book to a nephew of mine; you see I have written his name and address outside. He is a great chess-player, and will send it to England or France to be published; and it is pleasant for me to think that my work, even here in prison, may serve as an amusement to people out in the world."

Except in the dulness and monotony of the life there was little to complain of, and Godfrey was surprised to find how far it differed from his own preconceived notions of the life of a political prisoner in Siberia. It was only when, by an effort, he looked ahead for years and tried to fancy the possibility of being so cut off from the world for life, that he could appreciate the terrible nature of the punishment. Better a thousand times to be one of the murderers in the prison behind the wall. They had work to occupy their time, and constantly changing associates, with the knowledge that by good conduct they would sooner or later be released and be allowed to live outside the prison.

When at eight o'clock in the evening the prisoners were locked up in their huts, he endeavoured to learn everything that Alexis Stumpoff knew of Siberia.

He found that his knowledge was much more extensive than he had expected. "As I came out nominally, Godfrey, as a free man, I brought with me every book I could buy on the country, and I almost got them by heart. It seemed to me that I was likely to be kept here for years, if not for life. I might be sent from one government prison to another, from Tobolsk to the eastern sea; therefore every place possessed an interest for me. Besides this, although I was not actually a political prisoner myself I was virtually so, and my sympathies were wholly with the prisoners, and I thought that I might possibly be able to advise and counsel men who came under my charge: to describe to them the places where they might have relations or friends shut up, and to dissuade those who, like yourself, meditated escape, for my studies had not gone far before I became convinced that this was well-nigh hopeless. I learned how strict were the regulations on the frontier, how impossible, even if this were reached, to journey on without being arrested at the very first village that a fugitive entered, and that so strict were they that although numbers of the convict establishments were within comparatively short distances of the frontier, escapes were no more frequent from them than from those three thousand miles to the east. When I say escapes I mean escapes from Siberia. Escapes from the prisons are of constant occurrence, since most of the work is done outside the walls. There are thousands, I might almost say tens of thousands, get away every spring, but they all have to come back again in winter. The authorities trouble themselves little about them, for they know that they must give themselves up in a few months."

"Yes, my guard told me about that. He said they were not punished much when they came in."

"Sometimes they are flogged; but the Russian peasant is accustomed to flogging and thinks but little of it. More often they are not flogged. They have, perhaps, a heavier chain, for the convicts all wear chains—we have an advantage over them there—and they are put on poorer diet for a time. They lose the remission of sentence they would obtain by good behaviour, that is all, even when they are recognized, but as a rule they take care not to give themselves up at the prison they left, but at one many hundred miles from it. In the course of the summer their hair has grown again. They assert stoutly that they are free labourers who have lost their papers, and who cannot earn their living through the winter. The authorities know, of course, that they are escaped convicts, but they have no means of identifying them. They cannot send them the rounds of a hundred convict establishments; so instead of a man being entered as Alexis Stumpoff, murderer, for instance, he is put down by the name he gives, and the word vagabond is added. The next year they may break out again; but in time the hardships they suffer in the woods become distasteful and they settle down to their prison life, and then, after perhaps six, perhaps ten years of good conduct they are released and allowed to settle where they will. So you see, Godfrey Bullen, how hopeless is the chance of escape."

"Not at all," Godfrey said. "These men are most of them peasants—men without education and without enterprise, incapable of forming any plan, and wholly without resources in themselves. I feel as certain of escaping as I am of being here at present. I don't say that I shall succeed the first time, but, as you say yourself, there is no difficulty in getting away, and if I fail in one direction I will try in another."



CHAPTER VI.

AN ESCAPE.

The evenings were spent principally in conversations about Siberia, Godfrey being eager to learn everything that he could about its geography and peoples.

Alexis told him all he knew as to the mountains and rivers, the various native tribes, the districts where the villages were comparatively numerous, and the mighty forests that, stretching away to the Arctic Sea, could hardly be said to be explored. Books and paper were forbidden to the political prisoners, and so strict were the regulations that the warders would not under any considerations bring them in. But Godfrey wrote all the particulars that he judged might in any way be useful with a burnt piece of stick upon the table as Alexis gave them, and then learned them by heart, washing them off after he had done so.

But few of the details Alexis could give him would be of any use in the attempt he first intended to make. The southern frontier was so temptingly close that it seemed absurd to turn from that and to attempt a tremendous journey north, involving the certainty of having to struggle through an Arctic winter, and to face the difficulties of the passage west, either by land or sea. Beyond the fact that from Irkutsk he would have to make for the southern point of Lake Baikal, some sixty miles away, and then strike about south-east for another two hundred through a country inhabited almost entirely by Buriats, the doctor could tell him little.

"Kiakhta," he said, "or rather, as far as the Russians are concerned, Troitzkosavsk, which is a sort of suburb of Kiakhta, is the frontier town. Kiakhta is a sort of neutral town inhabited only by merchants, and by a treaty between Russia and China no officer or stranger is allowed to sleep there. Across the frontier, a few miles away, is the Chinese, or I suppose I should say the Mongol, town of Maimatchin. Beyond the fact that the people about there are Mongols rather than Chinese, and that such religion as they have is that of Thibet rather than China, for their priests are called lamas, I know nothing except that the caravan route from Kiakhta to Pekin is somewhere about a thousand miles, and that the camels do it in about thirty-five days."

"Then they make about thirty miles a day," Godfrey said. "I suppose there must be wells at their halting-places."

"Ah! that is another matter, Godfrey. You see a camel can go three days without water easily enough, and of course they would carry skins of water for the travellers."

"Oh, that is no odds," Godfrey said. "One could walk the ninety miles easily enough in three days, and there would be no difficulty in carrying water enough for that time. Besides, one would of course join a caravan if one could. Luckily enough I had two hundred roubles in notes when I was captured, and they restored them as well as my watch and other things when I started. I suppose the Mongols are just as fond of money as other people. The Chinese are, certainly, and I might get some Chinese tea-merchant to let me go in his train for a consideration."

The Russian laughed. "'Pon my word, Godfrey, I begin to think you will do it."

"There can't be anything impossible in doing it," Godfrey said. "Why, did not Burton disguise himself and go with a caravan to Mecca and visit the holy places, and that was twenty times as difficult and dangerous. Going along the caravan route of course the difficulty is the language and the Buriats. If one could talk Mongol, or whatever the fellows call their language, it would be easy sailing; but I own that it is a difficult thing to get along and explain what you want with people who cannot understand a word you say. I suppose the Buriats speak Russian."

"I should say that a great many of them do, Godfrey. I know there are missionaries and schools among them, and some of them live in settled villages, though they are so wedded to their own wandering life that they build their houses on the exact model of their tents, with a hole in the roof to let the smoke out. Still, as they deal with the towns and come in to sell their cattle and sheep and herds and so on, no doubt the greater part of them, at any rate on this side of the frontier, speak a certain amount of Russian. The difficulty will be to persuade them not to give you up."

"But I can pay them more not to give me up than they can get for doing so," Godfrey said.

"They would kill you for what you have, Godfrey. They are permitted to kill runaways, in fact encouraged to do so, and the reward is the same whether they are brought in dead or alive."

"I should think, Alexis, it is easier to bring in a live man than a dead one."

"I don't know," the Russian laughed. "I don't think a Buriat would find it very easy to take you any distance alive, but there would be no trouble in chucking you into a cart and bringing you here after the preliminary operation of knocking you on the head."

Godfrey smiled. "You forget there would be some preliminary trouble in knocking me on the head, Alexis; but seriously, I don't think any natives who have been in contact at all with civilization are disposed to take life without some strong motive. Of course robbery would be a motive, but I should certainly have nothing about me that a Tartar or a Buriat—I suppose they are all something of the same thing—would covet. You were telling me yourself that many of these people have very large flocks and herds. Is it likely such people as these would cut a stranger's throat on the chance of finding a few roubles in his pocket?"

"Well, one would think not, Godfrey; but of course they are not all rich."

"No; they may not be rich, but you say they are always nomads. Well, people who are nomads must always have some sort of animals to carry their tents, and a certain amount, anyhow, of cattle, horses, or sheep. No, I don't at all believe in cutting throats without a motive."

"But let us understand a little more about your intentions, Godfrey. Do you mean to climb over that fence and then to stroll away to the south with your hands in your pockets and your hat on one side of your head, and to ask the first man you come upon to direct you to the shortest road to Pekin?"

Godfrey laughed. "No, not quite that, Alexis. These clothes did very well in St. Petersburg, and though they are all the worse for the journey here I daresay they would pass well enough in the streets of Irkutsk. The first thing to do will be to get some clothes, for as far as I could see coming along the natives all dress a good deal like the Russians. I suppose in winter they wrap up more in furs, or they may wear their furs differently, but any sort of peasant dress would do, as it would not excite attention, while this tweed suit would be singular even in the streets here."

"That fur-lined great-coat would be all right, Godfrey."

"Yes. I bought that at St. Petersburg. I don't know that it would go very well with a peasant's dress, and it is certainly not suitable for the time of year, though I shall take it with me if I can. If I could roll it up and carry it as a knapsack it would be first rate for sleeping in, besides it might do as something to exchange when one gets to places where money is of little use. If I can get hold of a pistol anyhow I shall be glad. A pistol will always produce civility if one meets only one or two men. The other things I should want are a box of matches for making fires, a good knife, or better still, a small axe, for chopping wood, and a bottle or skin for holding water."

"You will be seized and sent back in a week, Godfrey."

"Very well, then, there will be no harm done. I regard this as a sort of preliminary investigation. I shall ascertain the difficulties of travel in Siberia, and shall learn lessons for next time. I believe myself the true way is to strike one of the great rivers, to build or steal a boat, to go down in it to the Arctic Sea, and then to coast along until one gets to Norway; but that is a big affair, and besides it is a great deal too late in the year for it. When I attempt that I shall make off as early in the spring as possible."

"Remember you may be flogged when you are caught, Godfrey."

"Well, I shouldn't like to be flogged, but as you say the convicts don't think much of it, I suppose I could bear it. They used to flog in our army and navy till quite lately."

"It is a dishonour," Alexis exclaimed passionately.

Godfrey shrugged his shoulders.

"The dishonour lies in the crime and not in the punishment," he said. "At our great public schools in England fellows are flogged. Well, there is no disgrace in it if it's only for breaking the rules or anything of that sort, but it would be a horrible dishonour if it were for thieving. All that sort of thing is absurd. I believe flogging is the best punishment there is. It is a lot better to give a man a couple of dozen and send him about his business, than it is to keep him for a year in prison at the public expense, and to have to maintain his wife and children also at the public expense while he is there. Besides, I thought you said the other day that they did not flog political prisoners."

"Well, they don't, at least not at any of the large prisons; but in some of the small establishments, with perhaps a brutal drunken captain or major as governor, no doubt it may be done sometimes."

"Well, I will take my chance of it."

"And when do you think of starting?" Alexis asked after a pause.

"Directly. I have only to decide how I am to get out after the door is locked, and to make a rope of some sort to climb the fence with. The blankets tied together will do for that. As to the getting out there is no difficulty. One only has to throw a blanket over that cross beam, get up on that, and get off one of the lining boards, displace a few tiles, crawl through."

"I have half a mind to go with you, Godfrey."

"Have you, Alexis? I should be awfully glad, but at the same time I would not say a word to persuade you to do it. You know I make light of it, but I know very well that there will be some danger and a tremendous lot of hardship to be gone through."

"I don't think I am afraid of that, Godfrey," Alexis said seriously. "It is not that I have been thinking of ever since you began to talk to me of getting away. I consider it is a hundred to one against success; but, as you say, if we fail and get brought back no great harm is done. If we get killed or die of hunger and thirst, again no harm is done, for certainly life is not a thing to cling to when one is a prisoner in Siberia; but it is not that. You see I am differently situated to you. If you do succeed in getting away you go home, and you are all right; if I succeed in getting away what is to become of me? I speak Russian and German, but there would be no return for me to Russia unless some day when a new Czar ascends the throne, or on some such occasion, when a general amnesty is granted; but even that would hardly extend to political prisoners. What am I to do? So far as I can see I might starve, and after all one might almost as well remain here as starve in Pekin or in some Chinese port. Granted that I could work my way back to Europe on board ship, what should I do if I landed at Marseilles or Liverpool? I could not go through the streets shouting in German 'I am a doctor, who wants to be cured?'"

"No, Alexis," Godfrey agreed, "you could not well do that; but I will tell you what you could do. Of course at the first place I get to, where there is a telegraph to England, I will send a message to my father to cable to some firm there to let me have what money I require. Very well. Then, of course, you would go home with me to England, and there is one thing I could promise you, and that is a post in my father's office. You know we trade with Russia, and though our correspondence is generally carried on in German, I am quite sure that my father would, after you had been my companion on such a journey as that we propose, make a berth for you in the office to undertake correspondence in Russian and German, and that he would pay a salary quite sufficient for you to live in comfort; or if you would rather, I am sure that he would find you means for going out and settling, say in the United States, in the part where German is the general language."

"Then in that case, Godfrey," the Russian said, shaking his hand warmly, "I am your man. I think I should have gone with you anyhow; but what you have said quite decides me. Now, then, what is our first proceeding?"

Godfrey laughed.

"I should say to take an inventory of our belongings, Alexis, or rather of your belongings, for mine are very briefly described. Two hundred roubles in notes, a watch, a pocket-knife, the suit of clothes I stand up in, half a dozen pairs of socks, and three flannel shirts I bought on the way, one great-coat lined with fur; I think that is about all. It is a very small share. Yours are much more numerous."

"More numerous, but not much more useful," Alexis said. "They let me bring one large portmanteau of clothes, but as I can't carry that away on my shoulders it is of very little use. All I can take in that way is a suit of clothes and a spare flannel shirt or two, and some socks. I have got two cases of surgical instruments. I will take a few of the most useful and some other things, a pair of forceps for instance. We may come across a Tartar with a raging tooth, and make him our friend for ever by extracting it, and I will put a bandage or two and some plaster in my pocket. They are things one ought always to carry, for one is always liable to get a hurt or a sprain. As to money, I have a hundred and twenty roubles; they are all in silver. I changed my paper at Tobolsk, thinking that silver would be more handy here. Unfortunately they took away my pistol, but a couple of amputating knives will make good weapons. I have got a leather waistcoat, which I will cut up and make from it a couple of sheaths. Of course I have got fur cloaks, one of them a very handsome one. I will take that and another. There ought to be no difficulty whatever in getting some one to give us two peasants' dresses in exchange for that coat, for all these people know something of the value of furs."

"Yes, and if you can get a gun and some ammunition thrown into the bargain, Alexis, it will be most useful, for we may have to depend upon what we shoot sometimes."

"Yes, that would be a great addition, Godfrey. Well, we will set about making the sheaths at once. I have got a store of needles and stout thread."

"They will be useful to take with us," Godfrey said, "not only for mending our clothes, if we want it, but for exchange. Women have to sew all over the world, and even the most savage people can appreciate the advantage of a good needle."

"That is so, Godfrey. I have got a packet of capital surgical needles, and some silk. I will put them in with the others; they won't take up much room. Well, shall we start to-morrow night?"

"I think we had better wait for two or three days," Godfrey said. "We must save up some of our food."

"Yes, we shall want some bread," Alexis agreed. "We can't well get that in through the warders, it would look suspicious, but I will get in some meat through them. We have got some of the last lot left, so we can do with very little bread."

For the next two days they found plenty to occupy them, while their stock of bread was accumulating. One of the Russian's coats was cut up and made into two bags like haversacks, with a band to pass over the shoulder, for carrying their belongings. Straps were make of the cloth for fastening the great-coats knapsack fashion. They agreed that however long they might have to wait they must choose a stormy night for their flight, as otherwise they could hardly break through the roof and scale the fence without being heard by the sentries who kept watch night and day. They were eager to be off, for it was already the end of July, and the winter would be severe in the country over which they had to travel. On the fourth day a heavy rain set in, and in the evening it began to blow hard.

"Now is our time," Godfrey said; "nothing could have been better."

They had already loosened two of the lining boards of the roof, and as soon as they had been locked up for the night they removed these altogether. They packed their haversacks with the articles they had agreed to take, with six pounds of bread each and some meat, rolled four blankets up and knotted them tightly together, strapped up the three fur-lined cloaks, and placed the knives in their belts. Then without much difficulty they prised up one of the thick planks with which the hut was roofed. Godfrey got through the opening, and Alexis passed out to him the haversacks and coats, and then joined him, and they slid down the roof and dropped to the ground.

The paling was but twenty yards behind the huts. As soon as they reached it Godfrey climbed upon his companion's shoulders, threw the loop of a doubled rope over one of the palisades and climbed on to the top. Then with the rope he pulled up the coats and haversacks and dropped them outside. Alexis pulled himself up by the rope; this was then dropped on the outside and he slid down by it. Godfrey shifted the rope on to the point of one of the palings, so that it could be easily shaken off from below, and then slipped down it. The rope shaken off and two of the blankets opened, the haversacks hung over their shoulders, and the great-coats strapped on, each put one of the twisted blankets over his shoulder, scarf fashion, wrapped the other round as a cloak, and then set out on their way. Fortunately the prison lay on the south side of the town and at a distance of half a mile from it; and as their course to the extremity of Lake Baikal lay almost due south, they were able to strike right across the country.

The wind was from the north, and they had therefore only to keep their backs to it to follow the right direction. It was half-past ten when they started, for the nights were short, and had it not been that the sky was covered with clouds and the air thick with rain, it would not have been dark enough for them to make the attempt until an hour later. By three o'clock it was light again, but they knew there was little chance of their escape being discovered until the warders came to unlock the hut at six in the morning, as the planks they had removed from the roof were at the back of the hut, and therefore invisible to the sentries.

"No doubt they will send a few mounted Cossacks out to search for us, as we are political prisoners," Alexis said; "but we may calculate it will be seven o'clock before they set out, and as this is the very last direction they will imagine we have taken we need not trouble ourselves about them; besides, we shall soon be getting into wooded country. I believe it is all wood round the lower end of the lake, and we shall be quite out of the way of traffic, for everything going east from Irkutsk is taken across the lake by steamer."

After twelve hours' walking, with only one halt of half an hour for refreshment, they reached the edge of the forest, and after again making a hearty meal of their bread and cold meat, and taking each a sip from a bottle containing cold tea, they lay down and slept until late in the afternoon.

"Well, we have accomplished so much satisfactorily," Alexis said. "Now we have to keep on to Kaltuk, at the extreme south-western point of the lake. It is a very small place, I believe, and that is where we must get what we want. We shall be there by the evening. We shall be just right, as it wouldn't do for us to go in until it is pretty nearly dark. A place of that sort is sure to have a store where they sell clothes and other things, and trade with the people round."

They struck the lake a mile or two from its extremity, and following it until they could see the roofs of the houses lay down for an hour until it should be dark enough to enter.

"We had better put on our fur coats," Alexis said. "The people all wear long coats of some fashion or other, and in the dusk we shall pass well enough."

It was a village containing some fifty or sixty houses, for the most part the tent-like structures of the Buriats. They met no one in the street, and kept on until they saw a light in a window of a house larger than any others, and looking in saw that it was the place for which they were in search. Opening the door they went in and closed it behind them. A man came out from the room behind the shop. He stopped for a moment at seeing two strangers, then advanced with a suspicious look on his face.

"Do you want a bargain?" Alexis asked him abruptly.

"I have little money to buy with," he said sullenly.

"That matters little, for we will take it out in goods."

The man hesitated. Alexis drew out the long keen amputating knife. "Look here," he said. "We are not to be fooled with. You may guess what we are or not; it is nothing to us and nothing to you. We want some of your goods, and are ready to give you good exchange for them; we are not robbers. Here is this coat; look at it; it is almost unworn. I have used it only one winter. You can see it is lined with real sable, and it cost me three hundred roubles. At any rate, it is worth a hundred to you, even if you take out the lining, sell the skins separately, and burn the coat. Examine it for yourself."

The shopkeeper did so. "They are good skins," he said, and Alexis could see that he quite appreciated their value.

"Now," Alexis said, "I want two peasant dresses complete, coat, trousers, high boots, and caps. What do you charge for them?"

"Twenty roubles each suit."

"Very well. Pick two suits the right size for us, and lay them down on the counter. Now we want two pounds of brick-tea and two pounds of tobacco. We want two skins that will each hold a gallon or a gallon and a half of water, and a tin pot that will hold a quart, and two tin drinking mugs. We want a gun and ammunition; it need not be a new one. I see you have got half a dozen standing over there in the corner. What do you charge your customers for those? I see they are all old single barrels and flint-locks."

"I charge fifteen roubles a piece."

"Well we will take two of them, and we want two pounds of powder and six pounds of shot, and a couple of dozen bullets. Now add that up and see how much it comes to."

"Ninety-two roubles," the man said.

"Well, I tell you what. I will give you this cloak and twelve paper roubles for them. I don't suppose the goods cost you fifty at the outside, and you will get at least a hundred for the skins alone."

"I will take it," the man said. "I take it because I cannot help it."

"You take it because you are making an excellent bargain," Alexis said fiercely. "Now, mind, if you give the alarm when we have gone it will be worse for you. They won't catch us; but you will see your house on fire over your head before the week is past."

Godfrey placed a ten-rouble note and two one-rouble notes on the table; they gathered up their goods and made them into a bundle, carefully loaded their guns, and put the powder and shot into their haversacks. Then Alexis lifted the bundle, and shouldering the guns they left the shop.

"Will he give the alarm, do you think?" Godfrey asked.

"Not he. He is thoroughly well satisfied. I daresay he will get a hundred and fifty roubles for the coat; besides, he knows that escaped convicts are desperate men, and that we should be likely to execute my threat. Besides, I don't suppose he would venture to stir out. For aught he knows we may be waiting just outside the shop to see what he does, and he will fear that he might get that hungry-looking knife into him if he came out to raise the alarm."

All was quiet, and they were soon beyond the limits of the village, and struck out for the country.

They held on for two or three miles, filled their water-skins at a little stream running towards the lake, and then entering a wood pushed on for some little distance, lighted a fire, and made themselves some tea.

"We are fairly off now, Godfrey. We have become what they call wanderers, and should be safe enough among the Russian peasants, most of whom have been convicts in their time, in the villages north, for they are always willing enough to help men who have taken to the woods. Well, except in the villages, of which there are few enough about here, we are not likely to come upon them. From here to the frontier are Buriats, and indeed beyond the frontier. However as we have both got guns, we need not be afraid of any small party. Of course some of them have guns too; but I don't suppose they will be fools enough to risk throwing their lives away for nothing. At any rate there is one comfort. There is nothing to show that we are political prisoners now. We might be honest peasants if it were not for these confounded heads of hair."

"I should think," Godfrey said, "we had better get rid of our hair altogether. It will be some time before it grows, but anything will be better than it is now."

"We have got no scissors, Godfrey, and we have no soap. If we had, those knives of ours are sharp enough to shave with."

"We can singe it off," Godfrey said. "Not now, but in the morning when we can see. I will do it for you, and you can do it for me. I would rather be bald-headed altogether than be such a figure as I am now."

Accordingly in the morning they singed off their hair with red-hot brands, then they changed their clothes for those they had obtained the night before, folded up their great-coats, divided the tea, tobacco, and the greater part of the powder and shot between them, put a portion in their haversacks, and rolled the rest up in the coats, then strapped these to their shoulders and started on their way.

"Now I feel ready for anything," Alexis said as they tramped along. "We have no weight to speak of to carry, and we have means of getting a meal occasionally. Now if we keep a little west of south we shall strike the Selenga river, which runs through Maimatchin, and then we shall be in China. We shall have to avoid the town, because I know there is a treaty between Russia and China about sending back exiles who cross the frontier. Still, when we get there we are at the starting-place of the caravans."

"Is it a desert the whole distance?"

"No. The first part is a mountainous country with two or three rivers to cross. I don't think the real desert is more than eight or ten days' march across. We shall certainly have no difficulty about water for some time to come. There are plenty of squirrels in these woods; at least I expect so, for they abound in all the forests. We must knock some of them over if we can. I believe they are not bad eating, though I never tried one. Then by the streams we ought to be able to pick up some wild duck, though of course at this time of year the greater portion of them are far north. Still I have great hopes we shall be able to keep ourselves in food with the assistance of what we may be able to buy occasionally. I think the only thing we have got to fear at this part of our journey is the Buriats. The thing I am really afraid of is the getting into China. I don't mean the frontier here; this is Mongolia, and it is only nominally Chinese; but when we get across the desert and enter China itself, I tell you frankly I don't see our way. We neither of us can speak a word of the language. We have no papers, and we may be arrested and shut up as suspicious vagabonds. There is one thing; at Kalgan, which is close to the Great Wall, there are Russian traders, and I should go boldly to them and ask their help. Russians out of Russia are sure to be liberal, though they may not dare to be so when they are at home, and I feel sure they would help us when we tell them our story, if we can only get at them. However we need not trouble ourselves much about that at present."

Once beyond the forest they were in an undulating country, the hills sometimes rising to a considerable height. Occasionally they saw in the distance encampments of natives, with sheep, cattle, and horses in considerable numbers. They kept clear of these, although occasionally they had to make wide detours to do so. Time was no object to them, and they made but short journeys, for the Russian, who had never been accustomed to walk long distances, had blistered both his feet badly on the first night's journey, and the subsequent travelling had added to the inflammation. On the fourth evening they halted for the night on a little rivulet, after making only five or six miles.

"It is no use, Alexis," Godfrey said; "we must stop here until your feet are quite well. We shall gain by it rather than lose, for when you are quite right again we could do our five-and-twenty or thirty miles a day easily, and might do forty at a push; but your feet will never get well if you go on walking, and it makes your journey a perfect penance; so I vote we establish ourselves here for three or four days. There is water and wood, and I dare say I shall be able to shoot something—at any rate you can't go on as you are now."

"It is horribly annoying," Alexis said, "to be knocked up like this just at the start."

"But it makes no difference," Godfrey urged. "We are not due at Pekin on any given day. It is very pleasant out here, where one can enjoy one's freedom and exult that there is no policeman or Cossack watching every movement. It would make no difference to me if we stopped here for a month. Now let me pull those boots off for you, then you can sit with your feet in this little pool."

"Warm water would be better, Godfrey. If you will get the kettle to boil I will dip my two flannel shirts in and wrap them round and keep on at that. That will be better than cold water."

"All right! I will soon get a fire alight. By Jove, they are bad!" he exclaimed, as Alexis pulled off his stocking. "They must have been hurting you desperately. Why did you not say how bad they were two days ago? We might as well have stopped then as now."

"I hoped they would have got better when I put on these big boots instead of those I started with. But I did not think they were as bad as they are. I am afraid this is going to be a troublesome business, Godfrey."

"Well, it can't be helped," Godfrey said cheerfully. "At any rate, don't worry on my account."

The Russian's feet were indeed greatly swollen and inflamed. The skin had been rubbed off in several places, and the wounds had an angry look, their edges being a fiery red, which extended for some distance round them.

"Well, you have plenty of pluck, Alexis, or you never could have gone on walking with such feet as those. I am sure I could not have done so."

"We thought over most difficulties, Godfrey, that we might possibly have to encounter, but not of this."

"No, we did not think of it, though we might really have calculated upon it. After being three or four months without walking twenty yards it is only natural one's feet should go at first. We ought to have brought some soap with us—I do not mean for washing, though we ought to have brought it for that—but for soaping the inside of our stockings. That is a first-rate dodge to prevent feet from blistering. Well, I must see about the fire. I will go up to those trees on the hillside. I daresay I shall be able to find some sticks there for lighting it. These bushes round here will do well enough when it is once fairly burning, but we shall have a great trouble to get them to light to begin with."



In half an hour he was back with a large faggot.

"It is lucky," he said, "there is a fallen tree. So we shall have no difficulty about firewood. We ought to have brought a hatchet when we got the other things. These knives are first-rate for cutting meat and that sort of thing, but they are of no use for rough work. My old knife is better."

While he was talking he was engaged in cutting some shavings off the sticks. Then he split up another into somewhat larger pieces, and laying them over the shavings, struck a match, and applied it. The flame shot up brightly, and in five minutes there was an excellent fire, on which the kettle was placed.

"We had better have our dinner first, Godfrey. Then I can go on steadily with these fomentations while you take your gun and look round."

"Perhaps that will be the best way," Godfrey said. "We have nothing left but six squirrels. We finished the last piece of bread this morning and the meat last night. How had we better do these squirrels?"

"I will skin them, Godfrey, while you are seeing to the fire. Then we will spit them on a ramrod, and I will hold them in the flame."

"I think we can manage better than that," Godfrey said, and he went to the bushes and cut two sticks of a foot long with a fork at one end. He stuck these in the ground, on the opposite sides of the fire. "There," he said, "you can lay the ramrod on these forks, and all you have got to do is to give it a turn occasionally."

"How long do you suppose these things want cooking?"

"Not above five minutes, I should think. I know that a steak only takes about eight minutes before a good fire, and these little beggars are not half the thickness of a steak. They are beginning to frizzle already, and the water is just on the boil."

The squirrels were pronounced very good eating. When the meal was over Godfrey filled the kettle again and gave it to Alexis, and then, taking his gun, started down the valley. He was away three hours, and brought back twenty birds of various sorts, but for the most part small.

"No very great sport," he said as he emptied his haversack. "However, they will do for breakfast, and I may have better luck to-morrow. There are some fish in the pools, but I do not see how we are to get them. I saw one spring out of the water; it must have weighed a couple of pounds."

"You might shoot them, Godfrey, if you could find a place where the bank is pretty high so as to look down on the water."

"So I could; I did not think of that. I must try to-morrow."

"If it hadn't been for my feet," Alexis said, "we should have been down on the Selenga to-morrow, and we had calculated on being able to buy food at one of the villages there."

"We shall be able to hold on here," Godfrey said, "for a few days, and I expect that one day's good tramp, when your feet are better, will take us there. After that we ought to have no great difficulty till we get down near the desert."



CHAPTER VII.

THE BURIAT'S CHILD.

After three days' rest the Russian's feet were so much better that he said he should be able to make a start the next morning. Godfrey, however, would not listen to the proposal.

"We are getting on all right," he said. "I am not much of a shot, but at any rate I am able to bag enough birds to keep us going, and though I have only succeeded in shooting one fish as yet, it was a good big one and was a real help to us. It is no use going on till your feet get really hard, for you would only be laming yourself again. It will be quite time enough to talk about making a start in three days' time."

The next morning Godfrey was roughly awakened by a violent kick. Starting up he saw a group of six Buriats standing round them. Three of them had guns, which were pointed at the prisoners, the others were armed with spears. Resistance was evidently useless; their guns had been removed to a distance and the knives taken from their belts before they were roused. Godfrey held out his hands to show that he surrendered, and addressed the usual Russian salutation to them. The men were short, square-built figures, with large skulls, low foreheads, flat noses, and long eyes like those of the Chinese. Their cheek-bones were high and wide apart, the complexion a yellow-brown, and the hair jet black and worn in a platted tail down the back. They made signs to their prisoners to accompany them. Alexis pulled on his boots. Two of the men with guns stood guard over them while the others examined the stores, and were evidently highly pleased with the two brightly polished knives.

"Rather an abrupt termination to our journey, Godfrey."

"Painfully so. I was almost afraid everything was going on too well with us, Alexis. It began to look so easy that one could not understand why there should not be hundreds of prisoners every year make their way across."

"I should not have minded so much," Alexis said, "if we had not got such a satisfactory kit together. We had everything we really wanted for a journey across Asia."

"Except food and water, Alexis."

"Well, yes, those are important items certainly, and if we had difficulty about it here in a decent sort of country, what might be expected on farther? Well, we have had our outing; I only hope they won't give us up at Irkutsk. I suppose it depends where their grazing-grounds are. There are another two months of summer; I wish we could have had our fling till then."

Half a mile along the valley they came upon a tent, evidently belonging to the men who had taken them. They talked a good deal among themselves as they approached it, but went straight on without making a stop.

"I expect they are taking us down to some chief or other, if they call them chiefs," Alexis said. "I expect they came out to hunt for horses or cattle that have strayed."

Seven or eight miles farther the valley opened on to a plain, and a short distance in front of them, on the stream, stood ten tents, one of which was considerably larger than the others. Great flocks of sheep grazed on the plain, and at a distance they could see numbers of cattle, while some horses with their saddles on were hobbled near the tents.

"I think we are lucky, Godfrey. The owner of all this must be a rich man, and can hardly covet the roubles he would get for giving us up. Besides, he is sure to talk Russian."

As they came up to the huts they saw that their occupants were all gathered, talking excitedly in front of a large tent. One of the men ran on and then returned; the news he gave was evidently bad. He talked excitedly, pointing to his own leg about half-way between the knee and the ankle. The men broke into exclamations of regret.

"I wonder what is the matter, Alexis; something has happened. I should think that someone must have met with an accident."

"Without wishing ill to anyone, Godfrey, I sincerely wish it may be so, then I might be able to win their good-will."

Little attention was paid to the party when they joined the group, all were too busy in discussing some event or other. Three or four minutes later a man came to the door of the tent and waved his hand, and gave some order. His dress was a handsome one. The little crowd fell back, but one of the men who had brought the captives in went up and spoke to him. He again waved his hand impatiently, and was turning to enter the tent when Alexis cried loudly: "I am a doctor, if anyone has been hurt I may be of service to him."

The man stepped hastily forward. "Do you say you are a doctor?"

"I am."

"Come in then," he said abruptly, and entered the tent.

"I will call you if you can be of any use," Alexis said to Godfrey as he followed him.

The tent was a large one. Some handsome Koord carpets covered the ground. Facing the door was another opening leading into a small tent serving as the women's apartment.

There were several piles of sheep-skins round the tent, and by one of these three women were standing. Two of these were richly dressed in gowns of handsome striped materials. They wore head-dresses of silver work with beads of malachite and mother-of-pearl, and had heavy silver ornaments hanging on their breasts. Their hair fell down their backs in two thick braids. The other woman was evidently of inferior rank. All were leaning over a pile of skins covered with costly furs, on which a boy of seven or eight years old was lying. His father, for such the man evidently was, said something in his own language, and the women turned eagerly to Alexis.

"You are a Russian doctor!" one of the women exclaimed joyfully.

"I am, lady," he said. "I graduated at St. Petersburg."

"Can you do anything for my son?" she asked. "Half an hour ago he went up incautiously behind a young horse that had been driven in from the herd only yesterday and it kicked him. See, it is terrible," and she burst into tears.

Alexis went forward and lifted a wet cloth that had been placed on the leg. A slight exclamation broke from his lips as he did so. The bone was evidently completely smashed, and one of the splintered ends projected through the skin.

"He must die," the mother sobbed, "nothing can save him."

The father did not speak, but looked inquiringly at Alexis. The latter made a sign to him to move to the other side of the tent.

"Well," the Buriat asked, "must he die?"

"There is no reason for his dying," Alexis said, "but there is no possibility of saving his leg, it must be amputated."

"What would be the use of living without a leg?" the Buriat exclaimed.

"A great deal of use," Alexis said quietly. "There are hundreds, aye thousands, of men in Russia who have lost a leg, some from an accident like this, or from a waggon going over them, some from a wound in battle. In some cases the leg is taken off much above the knee, but even then they are able to get about and enjoy their lives; but when it is below the knee, like this, they are able to do everything just the same as if they had both feet. They can walk and ride, and, in fact, do everything like others; besides, for such men there are people at St. Petersburg who make feet of cork, and when these are on, with a boot and trousers, or with a high boot, no one could tell that the wearer had not two feet. I have met men who had lost a leg, and they walked so well that I did not know till I was told that they had not two legs."

"I will speak to his mother," the Buriat said, and returning to the women he spoke to them in their own language. At first they appeared shocked and even terrified at the idea, but as he went on, evidently repeating what Alexis had told him, the expression of their faces changed. The Buriat called Alexis across.

"You cannot hesitate, lady," he said, "when your child's life is at stake. No Russian mother would do so for a moment. It may seem to you dreadful that he should have but one foot, but in a little time, even with so rough a limb as I could make for him, he would be running about and playing again, and, as I have been telling his father, he can obtain from St. Petersburg a foot so perfect that when wearing a high boot no one would suspect the misfortune that has happened to him."

"Can he not be cured without that?"

"No, lady. If it had been a simple fracture his leg might be bandaged up so that it would heal in time, but, as you can see for yourself, the bone is all splintered and broken, and unless something is done mortification will set in, and in a few days he will cease to live."

"But are you sure that he will live if you do it?"

"I am sure, lady, that the operation will not kill him. I believe that he will live, but that is in the hands of God. You see him now, the shock has prostrated him. He has but little life in him, and if he dies he will die from that and not from the taking off of his foot. But I do not think he will die, he is young and hardy, and on my faith as a Russian gentleman I believe that he will live."

"It shall be tried," the Buriat said abruptly. "God has doubtless sent you here at this moment. Why otherwise should a doctor be brought to my door when this has happened? Do as you will."

Alexis felt the boy's pulse. "I must wait," he said, "until he has recovered somewhat from the shock. Give him some warm milk with a spoonful, not more, of vodka in it. Your men have taken the knives that I and my friend carried; they were specially made for this, and we shall need them. Do not fear as to the operation, it is the most simple in surgery. Let him have the milk at once. Let him remain quiet upon his back, and do not let him attempt to move his leg. Do not tell him about this, it would frighten and agitate him. If I had medicines that we use in our hospitals I could send him to sleep so that he would know nothing about it, and when he woke up would be ignorant that his foot had been removed; but as there is none of it within a hundred miles of us we must manage it as we best can. Please tell your men to release my friend, I shall need his assistance."

After bidding the woman heat some milk at once the Buriat went out and ordered Godfrey's guards to release him at once, and to restore to them their knives and all their other possessions. Alexis informed Godfrey of what had taken place, and what he proposed to do.

"The operation would be a very easy one if we had chloroform and proper implements. Unfortunately there is no chance of their having such a thing as a fine saw, and how in the world I am to make a clean cut through the bone I do not know. The knife that you carry is just the right thing for the job; but how about a saw? If we could have chloroformed him, we could, after making the cuts through the flesh, have put the leg on a log of wood and have cut clean through the bone with a chopper. It would not be a good plan, for it would probably splinter the bone, but it might have been tried, but without chloroform it is not to be thought of."

Godfrey thought for a moment. "The knives are of a very good steel, Alexis?"

"Oh yes, of the very best steel!"

"Is it hard steel like that of a razor?"

"Yes, very much the same."

"Then I should think it could be managed. I know the least thing will notch a razor. Now I should think if we took the large knife, and with my pocket-knife or with the edge of a hard stone notch the edge carefully all the way down, it would make a very good saw."

"I should think it might do anyhow, Godfrey, and the idea is a very good one. Well, let us set about it at once. I can get a piece of fresh bone to try on; no doubt they kill a sheep here every day."

They set to work and in ten minutes had notched the blade of the knife all the way down. Alexis had, as he expected, no trouble in obtaining a freshly-picked bone, and they found that the knife sawed through it very cleanly. Then Alexis went in to see the boy again. Before, he had been lying with his eyes half-closed, without a vestige of colour in his cheeks; the warm milk had done its work almost instantaneously, and he was perfectly conscious and there was a slight colour in his cheeks. His pulse had recovered strength wonderfully. Alexis nodded approvingly to the Buriat. He drew him outside the tent.

"If I were you," he said, "I would send away all the people from the other huts. If the poor child screams they may get excited and rush in, and it is better that everything should be perfectly quiet. I should send away also the ladies, unless of course his mother particularly wishes to be with him; but it will be trying for her, and I own that I would rather not have anyone in the tent but you and my friend."

The Buriat went inside; he returned in two or three minutes. "My wife will stay; my sister and the attendant will go." Then he called to the men who were standing at the doors of their huts:

"The doctor says there must be silence for some time; he is going to do something and he wishes that all shall retire to a distance until I wave my hand for them to return. Will there be anything you want?" he asked Alexis.

"A large jug of warm water," he said, "a bowl, and some soft rag—that is all. By the time that is ready I shall be. You will have to hold his leg, Godfrey," he went on as the Buriat returned to his tent. "You must hold it just under the knee as firmly as possible, so as to prevent the slightest movement. But I am going to try to mesmerize him. I have seen it done with perfect success, and at any rate it is worth trying. In the weak state he is in I ought to be able to succeed without difficulty. Now I want a couple of small flat stones with rounded edges, a strip of soft skin, and a bit of stick three or four inches long and as thick as your finger, to make a tourniquet with."

By the time that these were ready a perfect stillness reigned in the camp. The whole of the natives had gone away to a distance of over a quarter of a mile, and were sitting in a group watching the tents, and, Godfrey had no doubt, debating hotly as to the folly of allowing a stranger to have anything to do with the son of their employer. He now followed Alexis into the tent, where all was in readiness. The child's head was slightly raised by a skin folded and placed under it. His mother knelt beside him.

"What do you wish me to do?" the Buriat asked.

"I wish you to stand beside him and aid his mother to hold him should he struggle, and I may need you to dip the rag into the warm water, squeeze it out, and give it me."

"Of course he will struggle," the Buriat said; "we men can bear pain, but a child cannot."

"I am going to try to put him to sleep," Alexis replied; "a sleep so sound that he will not wake with the pain. I do not say that I shall be able to, but I will try."

The Buriat looked at Alexis as if he doubted his sanity. That a Russian doctor should be able to take off the child's leg was within his comprehension. He had once seen a man in the street of Irkutsk with only one arm, but that anyone could make a child sleep so soundly that he would not wake under such an operation seemed to him beyond the bounds of possibility.

"Tell the child that I am going to do him good," Alexis said to the mother, "and that he is to look at my eyes steadily." He placed himself at the side of the couch and gazed down steadily at the child; then he began to make passes slowly down his face. For three or four minutes the black eyes looked into his unwinkingly, then the lids closed a little. Alexis continued his efforts, the lids drooped more and more until they closed completely. He continued the motions of his hand for another minute or two, then stooping he lifted an eyelid; the eye was turned upwards, so that the iris was no longer visible.

"Thank God, he has gone off!" he said. "Now for the tourniquet. That is right; twist gradually now, Godfrey, and place the stone on the main artery. Now," he said to the Buriat, "hold this stick firm with one hand and place the other on his chest to prevent his moving. Do you lay your arm across him," this to the mother; "that is right. Kneel with your face against his. Now, Godfrey, grasp the leg just below the knee and hold it firmly."

Godfrey did so, and then shut his eyes as he saw the doctor about to use the knife, expecting to hear a piercing scream from the child. There was no sound, however, and in a very few seconds he heard Alexis utter a low exclamation of satisfaction. He looked now; the flesh was already cut through and no cry had escaped the child. Another moment the foot and the lower portion of the leg came away at the point where the bone was crushed; then Alexis pushed the flesh upwards so as to expose another inch of the shin-bone, and then took the saw and cut through it. Some strands of silk lay close to his hand; with a long needle he took up the ends of the arteries and tied them with the silk; then he took hold of the stick of the tourniquet and loosened it a little. The result was satisfactory; the arteries were securely tied. Then he tightened it again and gave it to the Buriat to hold, wiped the wound with the damp rag, drew down the flesh over the end of the bone, brought up the flap of flesh from behind, and with a few stitches sewed it in its place.

"It is all done," he said, rising to his feet. Then he passed his hand several times across the child's forehead. "Tell him softly, when he opens his eyes," he said to the mother, "that he will soon be well now, and that he must go to sleep." He continued the passes for some time, occasionally lifting the eyelid. "He is coming round now," he said at last. A few more passes and the child drowsily opened its eyes. His mother spoke to him softly, and with a faint smile he closed them again. Alexis stood quietly for another minute or two. "He is asleep now," he said to the Buriat; "you need hold him no longer."

The tears were running down the man's cheeks; he seized one of the hands of Alexis and pressed it to his lips, while the mother, sobbing with joy, did the same to the other. To them it seemed almost a miracle.

"Have some milk kept warm," Alexis said, "and give it to him when he awakes. Do not tell him anything about his foot having been taken off. Keep a blanket lying over him so that he will not see it It is well that he should not be agitated, but tell him that he must lie perfectly quiet and not move his leg, as it would hurt him if he did so. Now, chief, it would be as well if you called the others back and told your servant to get some breakfast, for my friend and I have had nothing to eat since your men woke us this morning."

The Buriat went outside the tent and waved a blanket, and the others came running in at the signal.

"Tell them not to make a noise," Alexis said; "the longer the child sleeps quietly the better."

The Buriats uttered exclamations of the most profound astonishment when the chief told them that the Russian doctor had taken off the leg of the child without his feeling the slightest pain, and that there was every hope of his speedily recovering, whereupon they looked at Alexis with a feeling of respect amounting to awe. A sheep was at once killed, skinned, cut up, and placed in a great cooking pot over a fire; but long before this was done two great bowls of hot milk were brought out by the Buriat to Alexis and Godfrey, to enable them to hold on until the meal was prepared. At his order the men at once set about erecting a tent for them close to his own, and as soon as this was up, piles of soft skins were brought in.

"That has been a lucky stroke indeed, Godfrey," Alexis said as they took possession of their new abode.

"It has indeed, Alexis. Nothing could have been more providential. We are in clover as long as we choose to stop here. Do you think the child will recover?"

"I think there is every hope of his doing so. These natives are as hard as nails. I don't suppose the child has ever had a day's illness in his life, and in this pure dry air there is little fear of the wound doing badly. The next thing to do is to make him a pair of crutches to get about with till he can bear to have a wooden stump on. The only nuisance is that we shall be delayed. As a doctor, I cannot very well leave my patient till he is fairly on the road towards recovery."

"Certainly not," Godfrey agreed. "Well, I daresay we shall put away the time pleasantly enough here."

Half an hour later two horses were brought up, and these with their saddles and bridles were presented by the Buriat to his guests, and were picketed by their tent. The next three weeks passed pleasantly; they rode, hunted, and shot. The little patient made rapid progress towards recovery, and at the end of that time was able to get about on two crutches Godfrey had made for him.

"It is better that you should make them, Godfrey, and also the wooden leg when he is ready for it," Alexis had said. "It is just as well that their gratitude should be divided a little, so I will hand that part of the work over to you."

The Buriats were delighted indeed when they saw the child hopping about the camp with his crutches, and their gratitude knew no bounds to their guests. Alexis had made no secret to the Buriat of their intention of trying to make their way to Pekin. He endeavoured in every way to dissuade them from it.

"You will never find your way across the desert," he said, "and will die for want of water. The people are wild and savage. They are ruled by their lamas, and if they do not put you to death, which they would be likely to do for what you have, they will certainly send you back to Kiakhta and hand you over to the Russians there; and even if you got through the desert the Chinese would seize you and send you back. It would be madness to try. It would be better than that to go south and make for Thibet, although even that would be a desperate expedition. The tribes are wild and savage, the desert is terrible for those who do not know it. You would never find the wells, and would perish miserably of thirst even if you escaped being killed by the tribesmen. Still your chances would be greater than they would be of reaching Pekin. But you had far better make up your minds to live here. I will give you flocks and herds. You should be as of my family, and you, Alexis, should marry my sister, who is rich as well as pretty, for she owns a third of all the flocks and herds you see."

Alexis warmly thanked the Buriat for the offer, but said they must take time to consider it. "One might do worse," he said, laughing, to Godfrey when they were alone. "The women are certainly a great deal better-looking than the men, and the girl would be considered fair-looking even in Russia. At any rate it would be vastly better being a Buriat here than being inside that prison at Irkutsk."

"I agree with you there, Alexis; but it would be horrible being cut off here from the world for life."

"But one is cut off in prison, Godfrey; and though I agreed to share your attempt I have never been very hopeful about its success, and I am still less hopeful now from what I hear of the difficulties ahead of us. As I said when you first talked of it, there must be some frightful difficulties here, or this would be the way by which convicts would always try to escape, and yet we have never heard of one doing so."

"Yes, I begin to think myself I have made a mistake, Alexis, in choosing this route instead of a northern one. Besides, we shall have winter upon us in a very few weeks now, which would of course add tremendously to our difficulties. But you are not seriously thinking of stopping here, are you?"

"I don't know, Godfrey. You see you have got a home and friends waiting for you if you do get away, I have nothing but exile. I do believe we shall never succeed in getting out through China, and I think we couldn't do better than stop here for a year or two. By the end of that time we may succeed in establishing relations by means of this Buriat with some of the tea merchants at Kiakhta, and getting one of them to smuggle us through with a caravan; but, at any rate, if you still hold to going I shall go too. I have no intention of deserting you, I can assure you."

In another fortnight Godfrey had made a stump for the child. The hollow was lined with sheepskin to take off the jar, and it strapped firmly on to the limb. The wound was not quite sufficiently healed yet for the child to use it regularly, but when on first trying it he walked across the tent the joy of his father and mother knew no bounds.

They had only been waiting for this to make a move, for the pasture had for some time been getting short, and on the following day the tents were pulled down, and for three days they journeyed east, and then finding a suitable spot again pitched their tents. They were now, as the Buriat told them, only some thirty miles from Kiakhta. Godfrey and Alexis had talked matters over during the journey. They agreed that the season was now too late for them to think of attempting the journey until the following spring, and had almost concluded that the attempt to get through China should be altogether abandoned. Going north there were the rigour of the climate and the enormous distances as obstacles, but the passage would be chiefly by water. There was no danger from the tribes they would have to pass through, no difficulties such as they might meet with from the opposition of the Chinese, and they had pretty well resolved to pass the winter with the Buriats and to make a start in the spring.

Their host was greatly pleased when they informed him of their intention at any rate to spend the winter with them, for he hoped that before the spring Alexis would have made up his mind to accept his offer, and to settle down as a member of the tribe.

The day after the Buriats pitched their fresh camp one of the men reported that he had seen a large bear at the edge of a forest two miles from the huts. Alexis and Godfrey at once took their guns, borrowed a couple of long spears and two hunting knives, and started for the wood, the native going with them to show them the exact spot where he had seen the bear. There was a good deal of undergrowth about, and they thought it probable that the animal was not far off. The Buriat had brought a dog with him, and the animal at once began sniffing the ground. His master encouraged it, and presently it started, sniffing the ground as it went. It had gone but a few hundred yards when it stopped before a thick clump of bushes and began growling furiously. They had a short consultation, and then the two friends took up their post one at each corner of the bushes, while the Buriat went round to the rear of the clump with his dog and began beating the bushes with his stick, while the dog barked and yelped. A minute later a bear broke out of the bushes within four yards of Alexis.

The Russian levelled his gun. Godfrey heard a report far louder than usual, and something flew close to his head. A moment later he saw Alexis struck to the ground by the bear. Godfrey rushed up, and fired when within two paces of the animal, which with a fierce growl turned upon him. He sprang aside and plunged his spear deep into its side. The bear struck at the handle and broke it in two, and then rose on its hind-legs. Godfrey drew his knife and awaited its rush, but it stood stationary for half a minute, swayed to and fro, and then fell on its side. Godfrey leaned over it and plunged his knife in deep behind its shoulders, pressing it until the blade disappeared. Then feeling certain it was dead he ran to Alexis, who lay motionless on the ground. By the side of him lay the stock of the gun and a portion of the barrel; it had exploded, completely shattering the Russian's left hand. But this was not his only or even his most serious injury. The bear had struck him on the side of the head, almost tearing off a portion of the scalp and ear.

The Buriat had by this time come round, and Godfrey bade him run to the camp at the top of his speed to fetch assistance. Feeling in his friend's pocket he drew out the bandage which Alexis always carried, and wrapped up as well as he could his shattered hand, of which the thumb and two first fingers were altogether missing; the wound on the head was, he felt, altogether beyond him. In less than half an hour the chief Buriat and four of his men dashed up on horseback. They had brought with them two poles and a hide to form a litter. The chief was deeply concerned when he saw how serious were the Russian's injuries. No time was lost in lashing the hides to the poles. Alexis was lifted and laid upon the litter, and two of the Buriats took the poles while the others led back the horses. As soon as he arrived in camp Godfrey bathed the wounds with warm water, and poured some spirits between the lips of the wounded man, but he gave no signs of consciousness.

"I am afraid," he said to the Buriat, who was looking on anxiously, "that his skull is injured or there is concussion of the brain. The only thing that I can see will be for him to be carried at once to Kiakhta. There is sure to be a hospital there and doctors."

"That would be best," the Buriat said; "but I will take a house there, and my wife and sister shall nurse him."

"That will be better than going into the hospital," Godfrey agreed, "for two reasons. In the first, because Alexis would certainly get more careful nursing among his friends than in a hospital, and he might then avoid, if he survives his injuries, being again imprisoned."

No time was lost. Four Buriats took the poles, Godfrey walked beside the litter, and the Buriat, his wife and sister, mounted and rode off to have everything ready for them when they arrived at Troitzkosavsk, the suburb of Kiakhta. It was late before they reached it. The Buriat met them half a mile outside the town, and at once conducted them to a house that he had hired from a friend established there. As soon as Alexis was laid upon a couch Godfrey and the Buriat went out and ascertained where one of the surgeons of the military hospital lived. On reaching the house they were shown by the Cossack who acted as the doctor's servant to his room.

"A friend of mine has been badly injured by a bear," the Buriat said; "I wish you to come and see him at once. He is in a house I have taken near this. I will be responsible for all charges."

The doctor looked keenly at Godfrey and then said, "I will come. You are not a Buriat?" he said to Godfrey as they started.

"I am not, doctor; though I have been living with them for some time."

"And the man who is ill, is he a Buriat?"

"No, sir; he is a Russian, and a member of your own profession."

"He is clever," the Buriat said. "He saved the life of my child by taking off his leg, and he is running about again now. He is as a brother to me, and I would gladly give a thousand cattle rather than that he should die."

No other words were spoken until they arrived at the house. The surgeon stooped over Alexis, lifted one of his eyelids, and felt his pulse.

"Concussion of the brain," he said; "a serious case. Bring me rags and hot water." He bathed the wound for some time and then carefully examined it. "There is a fracture of the skull," he said to Godfrey, "and I fancy there is a piece of bone pressing on the brain. Put wet cloths round his head for the present; I will go and fetch my colleague, and I will send down some ice from the hospital. His hand is bandaged up, what is the matter with that?"

"His gun burst, doctor, and has mangled his hand dreadfully. That was how it was the bear got at him and struck him."

The surgeon removed the bandages and examined it. "Keep it bathed with warm water until I return," he said.

Half an hour later he came back with the other surgeon, a man older than himself, both carrying cases of instruments. The wound on the head was again examined. They then proceeded to operate, and in a few minutes removed a portion of splintered bone. Then the flap of skin was carefully replaced in its position, and a few stitches put in to hold it. The hand was then attended to.

"No, I don't think it need come off," the senior surgeon said; "we may save the third and little fingers. At any rate we will try; if it does not do we can take the whole off afterwards."

The operation was performed, then ordering the ice that had just been brought to be applied to the head, the surgeons left.

"We will look in again early in the morning," one of them said to Godfrey, "and then we will have a chat with you."

The women took it by turns to watch, and Godfrey, worn out by the excitement of the day, slept until morning. Alexis was restless, moving uneasily and muttering to himself. His eyes were open, but he took no notice of what was going on around him. The surgeon they had first seen came alone.

"He is better," he said to the Buriat, "but he is very far from being out of danger yet. It will be a long illness, but I hope that we may be able to bring him round. I will send him some medicine presently. Keep cloths with cold water and ice to his head." He beckoned to Godfrey to follow him out of the room.

"I don't want to ask any questions," he said, "about my patient. I have been called in by this Buriat to see a friend of his, and it does not concern me who or what he may be; but it is different with you. As a Russian officer I cannot be seeing you daily without reporting that I have met a person who scarcely appears to be what he seems. It is painful to me to be obliged to say so. I do not give advice any way. I only say that if you do not wish to be asked questions, it would be best for you to leave here after nightfall; until then, I shall not consider it necessary to make any report. I shall be back again once or twice to-day; you had better think the matter over."

Godfrey had been thinking the matter over as he walked beside the litter, and had already arrived at a decision. It was evident that many weeks, if not months, must elapse before Alexis would be fit to sustain the hardships that would attend an attempt to escape, and he thought it probable that more than ever he would be inclined to throw in his lot with the wandering Buriats; he had therefore only himself to think about. He had foreseen that he would not be able to stop at Kiakhta without being exposed to being questioned, and that there remained therefore only the option of living with the Buriats during the winter or of giving himself up. The former plan would be the most advantageous in the event of his trying to reach Pekin; but the difficulties in that direction appeared to him so great that he shrank from the thought of facing them, especially as he should now be alone, and he preferred the idea of trying to escape by the north.

In this case a further sojourn among the Buriats would be useless; in a Russian prison he would be able to pick up many valuable hints from the men with whom he would work, and might find someone ready to make the attempt with him. The difficulties of escape from prison did not seem very great, and would, he thought, be even less at one of the penal settlements than if confined in an ordinary jail. When, however, the doctor spoke to him, Godfrey only thanked him, and said he would speak with him again when he next called. The Buriat saw that he was looking serious when he returned to the room.

"What did he say to you?" he asked. "Did he threaten to report you?"

"He spoke very kindly," Godfrey replied. "But he said that it would be his duty to do so if I remained here."

The Buriat shook his head. "I was thinking of that yesterday, and was afraid for you. Out on the plains there would have been none to question you; but here in the town a stranger is noticed at once, for every resident is known. You must make off at once. You can take my horse, we will watch over your friend. Once in my tents you will be safe."

Godfrey thanked him warmly, but told him that he had not quite decided as to what he should do, but would let him know later on. Then, as he could do nothing for Alexis, he threw himself down on a pile of skins, and thought the matter over in every light.



CHAPTER VIII.

THE MINES OF KARA.

Godfrey found it a difficult matter to decide what was best to be done; but after two hours' thinking his mind was quite made up. He did not stand in the same position as Alexis with the Buriats. It was Alexis who had laid them under such an obligation by saving their child's life. He himself was simply liked as the doctor's companion, and without Alexis the long months of winter would be dreary indeed. He thought that imprisonment would be preferable to living alone in a Buriat hut. Accordingly he rose at last, and told the Buriat that his course was decided.

"I shall give myself up," he said. "I know that you would make me welcome in your tents; but from what you have told me, I see that there is no prospect whatever of an escape through China, and that if I go out to the plains I shall be there for life, while if I go to a prison I may in time be released, or at any rate I can again escape."

"Whenever you come to us you will be welcome," the Buriat said. "For yourself, you know best; but we shall be all sorry to lose you. Is there anything I can do for you? I know the governor here, for I have had large dealings with him for sheep and cattle for the troops."

"I shall be very glad if you will go with me to him," Godfrey said. "A word from you may be of great advantage to me. There are no prisons here, and I am most anxious to be sent to Nertchinsk and not to Irkutsk, because it was from there we escaped."

The Buriat's wife and sister were sorry when they heard Godfrey's determination, but they were too much occupied with Alexis to try and dispute it.

"When will you go?" the Buriat said.

"At once, if you will take me. I have no preparations to make; I only cause extra trouble here, and can be of no assistance. But first, if you will procure paper, pen, and ink, I will write a letter for you to give to Alexis when he recovers, telling him why I leave him."

The Buriat sent out one of his men, who presently returned with writing materials, and Godfrey then wrote a long letter to Alexis, explaining at length the reasons that actuated him in deciding to give himself up.

"You are in good hands," he said, "and I could do nothing for you; and in any case I should have to leave you now, for did I not give myself up I must leave this evening, therefore I could do no good to you in any case. I know that you were half inclined to stay with the Buriats, and you will now have even greater reasons for doing so than before. If, however, you should at any future time change your mind and try to make your escape, I need not tell you how delighted I should be to see you in England. I inclose the address of my father's office, where you will be sure either to find me or to hear of me. But even if I have not got home you will receive the heartiest welcome when you tell him of our having been together and show him this letter, and you may rely upon it that my father will be able to procure a situation for you in London, even if he cannot find a berth for you in his own house of business."

When he had finished he handed the letter to the Buriat to give to Alexis.

"Here is money," the Buriat said, "which my wife found upon Alexis. You had better take it with you."

"I cannot do that," Godfrey said, "it is his; I have some of my own. I know he would gladly give it to me if he were conscious; but I cannot take it now."

"Very well," the Buriat said, "you are doubtless right; but at any rate you can take some from me. I am rich. I have many thousands of sheep and cattle. If you do not take it I shall be offended, and shall think that in some way we have displeased you. A thousand roubles are nothing to me; I have given as much for one suit of furs for my wife. You must take this; if you ever attempt to escape again, you will need money."

After much debate Godfrey accepted five hundred roubles in notes, seeing that the Buriat would be really pained by his refusal, and knowing that the money would indeed be useful to him when he next tried to make his escape. Being anxious to hear the surgeon's next report about Alexis, Godfrey delayed his start until after his visit.

"There is no change," the doctor said, after examining his patient, "nor did I expect there would be after such serious injuries as he has received. It would be strange, indeed, if he did not suffer from the shock. It may be some days before any change takes place. It is vastly better that he should be restless, or even wildly delirious, than lying unconscious as he was when I first saw him. Well, and what are you going to do, young fellow?"

"I am going to give myself up," he said.

"You have had enough of the plains, eh?"

"Yes, sir, for the present."

"Mind, don't be foolish enough to say that you have escaped; there is not the least occasion for that; that would make the case a great deal worse."

"My friend here was going with me to the governor, doctor, to tell him that I have been living with him for some time."

"Yes, that is all well enough; but if you give yourself up it is a confession that you have escaped; that won't do at all. I tell you what will be the best thing: I will go with you to Colonel Prescoff, the governor. I shall tell him the truth, that I was attending one of the Buriat's men, who had been badly injured by a bear, when I saw you there. I found that you could not give a good account of yourself, and had no papers, and that, therefore, as was my duty, I brought you to him. Then you must say that you have been working here and there, and that you come from, say, Tomsk. I suppose you have been there?"

Godfrey smiled.

"That is near enough," the doctor went on. "As for your papers, you lost them, or they were burnt or stolen from you. He won't ask you many questions. Then the Buriat will speak up for you—he is rather an important man, being one of the richest of his tribe—and say what he can for you. Is there anything you want done particularly?"

"I want to be sent to Nertchinsk instead of to Irkutsk. I would rather work in the mines or anywhere else than be shut up in prison."

"And besides, you would not be known?" the doctor laughed.

"That is the principal thing, sir."

"Whatever you do, my lad," the doctor said, "if you have been a political prisoner—mind, I don't ask the question, and don't want to know—but if you have been, don't let it out. It is better to have been a murderer than a Nihilist out here. I dare say the colonel would send you to Nertchinsk if your friend here asks him, but it is a good deal further and a more expensive journey."

"I will gladly pay for the vehicle, sir."

"Ah, well; if you will do that, I should think it could be managed. I will go in first with your friend and have a talk with the colonel, and we will see if we can put the matter straight for you before you are called in."

Godfrey took his fur-lined coat, said good-bye to the two ladies, gently put his hand on his comrade's shoulder, and followed the doctor and his host. When they arrived at the governor's house the doctor left him in the room where two military clerks were writing, and went in with the Buriat to the governor. In five minutes the bell rang. An orderly answered it, and returning, bade Godfrey follow him. The governor was seated at a table, the doctor and the Buriat standing near.

"So I hear," the colonel said, looking sharply at Godfrey, "that you are unable to give an account of yourself, and have nothing but a cock-and-bull story of having wandered about through the country. We understand what that means. However, our friend here," and he motioned to the Buriat, "speaks well of you, and says that you have done him some service. However that cannot be taken into consideration. It is clear that having no papers and no domicile, you are a vagabond, and as such must be committed to prison. You will be taken to Nertchinsk." Godfrey bowed. The colonel touched the bell again, and the orderly entered. "Take this man to the cells."

The Buriat stepped forward and shook hands with Godfrey. "Come again," he said in a low voice, "you will always be welcome."

The doctor nodded. "I shall see you before you start," he said. Godfrey saluted the colonel and followed the orderly out of the room. He was taken across a court-yard to a cell.

"A good style of young fellow," the colonel said when he left. "He has either been an officer and got into some scrape with his colonel, or he is a political."

"One or the other, colonel, no doubt," the doctor agreed.

"Well, it is no business of mine," the colonel said. "I suppose he has had four or five months in the woods and wants to get into snug quarters again before winter. Well, good morning, gentlemen!" and his visitors took their leave.