fter suffering the most excruciating pains. Though his
companions were thus freed of the trouble of attending on him, and the
grief of witnessing his misery, they were deeply affected by his
death. They saw their number lessened, and each wished to be the next
to follow him. Having died in winter, a grave as deep as possible was
dug in the snow to receive his corpse, and the survivors then covered
it over to the best of their power, to prevent the white bears from
getting at it.

While the melancholy reflections excited by Weregin's death were still
fresh in the minds of his comrades, and while each expected to pay the
like duties to the companions of his misfortunes that they had done to
him, or to be himself the first to receive them, a Russian vessel
unexpectedly came in view on the 15th of August 1749.

This vessel belonged to a trader who had come to Archangel, and
intended to winter in Nova Zembla; but fortunately it was proposed to
him to winter at West Spitzbergen, to which, after many objections, he
assented. Contrary winds on the passage prevented the ship from
reaching the place of her destination, and drove her towards East
Spitzbergen, directly opposite to the residence of the mariners. As
soon as they perceived her, they hastened to light fires on the
nearest hills, and then ran to the beach waving a flag made of a
rein-deer's skin fastened to a pole. The people on board observing
these signals, concluded there were men ashore imploring their
assistance, and therefore came to an anchor near the island.

To describe the joy of the unfortunate mariners at seeing the moment
of their deliverance so near, is impossible.--They soon agreed with
the master of the vessel to take them and all their riches on board,
for which they should work during the voyage, and pay him eighty
rubles on arriving in Russia. Therefore they embarked, carrying with
them two thousand weight of rein-deer fat, many hides of the same
animals, the skins of the blue and white foxes and bears they had
killed. Neither did they neglect to carry away their spears, their
knife and axe, which were almost worn out, or their awls and needles,
which were carefully preserved in a box, very ingeniously made of
bone.

After spending six years and three months in this rueful solitude,
they arrived safe at Archangel on the 25th of September, 1749. But the
moment of landing was nearly fatal to the affectionate wife of Alexis
Himkof, who happened to b