lumber towns on the right. Hay stacks and fields on the left, backed
by forests. Here the trail is bareswept by the wind from across the
river. Again it is snow blown and men and ponies slacken speed in the
drifts. Early sets the sun, but the white snow affords us light enough.
The point out of sight in front, the rear party is lost behind the
curve. Tiny specks on the ice below and distant are interpreted to be
sledges bound for some river port. Nets are exposed to the air and wait
now for June suns to move out the fetters of ice. Decent looking houses
and people face the strange cavalcade as it passes village after
village. It is a new aspect of Russia to the Americans who for many
weeks have been in the woods along the Vologda railroad.

Well, halting is a wonderful performance. The headman--starosta--must be
hunted up to quarter officers and men. He is not sure about the drivers.
Perhaps he fears for the great haystacks in his yard. We cannot wait. In
we go and Buffalo Bill's men never had anything on these Russki drivers.
But it all works out, Slava Bogga for army sergeants. American soldiers
are quick to pull things through anyway. Without friction we get all in
order. Guard is mounted over the sleighs. Now we find out that Mr. Poole
was right in talking about "friendly Russians." Our lowly hosts treat us
royally. Tea from the samovar steams us a welcome. It is clean homes,
mostly, soldiers find themselves in,--clean clothing, clean floors, oil
lamps, pictures on the walls.

To LIABLSKAYA--SECOND DAY, DECEMBER 19TH

Crawled out of our sheepskin sleeping bags about 6:00 o'clock well
rested. Breakfasted on bacon and bread and coffee. Gave headman ten
roubles. Every soldier reported very hospitable treatment. Tea for all.
Milk for many. Some delay caused by the sledge drivers who joined us
late at night from Bakaritza with oats. Left at 8:40. Billeting party
given an hour's start, travelling ahead of the point to get billets and
dinner arranged. Marching hard. Cold sleet from southeast with drifting
snow. The Shackelton boot tricky. Men find it hard to navigate. Road
very hilly. Cross this inlet here. Down the long hill and up a winding
hill to the crest again which overhangs the stream that soon empties
into the big Dvina. To the left on the ice-locked beach are two scows.
It is warmer now for the road winds between the pines on both sides. The
snow ceases gradually but we do not see the least brightness in the sk