we went on deck to light our Riga cigars, the boat was approaching
Schluesselburg, at the outlet of the lake. Here the Neva, just born,
sweeps in two broad arms around the island which bears the
Key-Fortress,--the key by which Peter opened this river-door to the Gulf
of Finland. The pretty town of the same name is on the south bank, and
in the centre of its front yawn the granite gates of the canal which,
for a hundred versts, skirts the southern shore of the lake, forming,
with the Volkhoff River and another canal beyond, a summer communication
with the vast regions watered by the Volga and its affluents. The Ladoga
Canal, by which the heavy barges laden with hemp from Mid-Russia, and
wool from the Ural, and wood from the Valdai Hills, avoid the sudden
storms of the lake, was also the work of Peter the Great. I should have
gone on shore to inspect the locks, but for the discouraging persistence
of the rain. Huddled against the smoke-stack, we could do nothing but
look on the draggled soldiers and _mujiks_ splashing through the mud,
the low yellow fortress, which has long outlived its importance, and the
dark-gray waste of lake which loomed in front, suggestive of rough water
and kindred abominations.

There it was, at last,--Lake Ladoga,--and now our prow turns to unknown
regions. We steamed past the fort, past a fleet of brigs, schooners, and
brigantines, with huge, rounded stems and sterns, laden with wood from
the Wolkonskoi forests, and boldly entered the gray void of fog and
rain. The surface of the lake was but slightly agitated, as the wind
gradually fell and a thick mist settled on the water. Hour after hour
passed away, as we rushed onward through the blank, and we naturally
turned to our fellow-passengers in search of some interest or diversion
to beguile the time. The heavy-bearded, peasants and their
weather-beaten wives were scattered around the deck in various
attitudes, some of the former asleep on their backs, with open mouths,
beside the smoke-stack. There were many picturesque figures among them,
and, if I possessed the quick pencil of Kaulbach, I might have filled a
dozen leaver of my sketch-book. The _bourgeoisie_ were huddled on the
quarter-deck benches, silent, and fearful of sea-sickness. But a very
bright, intelligent young officer turned up, who had crossed the Ural,
and was able to entertain us with an account of the splendid
sword-blades of Zlataoust. He was now on his way to the copper mines