raught with dangers and terrors during
those swiftly rising and deadly _boirams_, as the wind-storms are
called, which completely obliterate all landmarks while they last, and
which are not to be met with anywhere else in the inhabited parts of
the world. At Spassky they told me of a Kirghiz horseman who had been
found one morning, during the preceding winter, just outside his home,
horse and rider rigid in the snow and frozen stiff, both of them dead
for hours. They had struggled against the _boiram_ as long as they
could, the man probably urging on his horse to the last, and both giving
up the struggle together as the awful frost took possession of them, so
swiftly that there was no falling off for the one nor sinking down for
the other. And, if they had only known it, or the blinding storm had
permitted them to see, they were at the very door of their home and
within reach of warmth and food and shelter.

I remember once saying to friends that I supposed when travelling in
winter they could make themselves very comfortable by packing themselves
in with "hot-water foot-warmers." "Hot-water foot-warmers!" they
exclaimed. "Why, the frost would have them and destroy them completely
almost before we had left the door."

Then the wolves are there also! Siberia has not changed in that respect
from the weird land of which we have read as long as we can remember,
and is still the haunt of the most fierce and untiring enemies which
man and beast alike have to fear when they are the hunters and not the
hunted. The fair Siberia of the glorious summer knows no wolves. Then
there is food enough and to spare always within reach, and there are
homes and family life even for wolves to think of and be happy about.
There is no need then, though they are gregarious by nature, for them to
join together. Each can fend for himself, and have enough for all his
family and to spare. Not a wolf is to be seen except very rarely, and
the traveller never even thinks of them with fear as, singly, sleek, and
well fed, they slink away immediately as soon as seen. It is altogether
different when winter comes, and hunger, even famine, gets a grip upon
them because so many other creatures are hibernating. Then the quarry
must be of different character, and nothing is too strong or big for a
huge pack well led. Once they have been driven by stern necessity to
combine together and choose their leader they will stick at nothing and
attempt almost anythin