beds for streams of running water.
I understood that until summer I was condemned to a continuation of my
solitude. Spring very quickly came into her rights and soon my mountain
was free from snow and was covered only with stones, the trunks of birch
and aspen trees and the high cones of ant hills; the river in places
broke its covering of ice and was coursing full with foam and bubbles.

CHAPTER IV

A FISHERMAN

One day during the hunt, I approached the bank of the river and noticed
many very large fish with red backs, as though filled with blood. They
were swimming on the surface enjoying the rays of the sun. When the
river was entirely free from ice, these fish appeared in enormous
quantities. Soon I realized that they were working up-stream for the
spawning season in the smaller rivers. I thought to use a plundering
method of catching, forbidden by the law of all countries; but all the
lawyers and legislators should be lenient to one who lives in a den
under the roots of a fallen tree and dares to break their rational laws.

Gathering many thin birch and aspen trees I built in the bed of the
stream a weir which the fish could not pass and soon I found them
trying to jump over it. Near the bank I left a hole in my barrier about
eighteen inches below the surface and fastened on the up-stream side a
high basket plaited from soft willow twigs, into which the fish came as
they passed the hole. Then I stood cruelly by and hit them on the head
with a strong stick. All my catch were over thirty pounds, some more
than eighty. This variety of fish is called the taimen, is of the trout
family and is the best in the Yenisei.

After two weeks the fish had passed and my basket gave me no more
treasure, so I began anew the hunt.

CHAPTER V

A DANGEROUS NEIGHBOR

The hunt became more and more profitable and enjoyable, as spring
animated everything. In the morning at the break of day the forest was
full of voices, strange and undiscernible to the inhabitant of the town.
There the heathcock clucked and sang his song of love, as he sat on the
top branches of the cedar and admired the grey hen scratching in the
fallen leaves below. It was very easy to approach this full-feathered
Caruso and with a shot to bring him down from his more poetic to his
more utilitarian duties. His going out was an euthanasia, for he was in
love and heard nothing. Out in the clearing the blackcocks with their
wide-spread spotted tails were