ate of the ice in the Kara Sea would be
favorable; some Samoyedes had said so, who had been seal-hunting near
the eastern entrance of the Strait a day or two previously. This was
not very much to build upon, certainly, but still sufficient to make us
regret that we had not got there before. Then we spoke of the Urania,
of which no one, of course, had seen anything. No ship had put in there
for some time, except the sealing sloop we had passed in the morning.

Next we inquired about the dogs, and learned that everything was all
right with them. To make sure, Trontheim had purchased forty dogs,
though I had only asked for thirty. Five of these, from various
mishaps, had died during their journey--one had been bitten to death,
two had got hung fast and had been strangled while passing through a
forest, etc., etc. One, moreover, had been taken ill a few days before,
and was still on the sick list; but the remaining thirty-four were in
good condition: we could hear them howling and barking. During this
conversation we had come as near to Khabarova as we dared venture,
and at seven in the evening cast anchor in about 3 fathoms of water.

Over the supper-table Trontheim told us his adventures. On the way
from Sopva and Ural to the Pechora he heard that there was a dog
epidemic in that locality; consequently he did not think it advisable
to go to the Pechora as he had intended, but laid his course instead
direct from Ural to Yugor Strait. Towards the end of the journey
the snow had disappeared, and, in company with a reindeer caravan,
he drove on with his dogs over the bare plain, stocks and stones and
all, using the sledges none the less. The Samoyedes and natives of
Northern Siberia have no vehicles but sledges. The summer sledge
is somewhat higher than the winter sledge, in order that it may
not hang fast upon stones and stumps. As may be supposed, however,
summer sledging is anything but smooth work.

After supper we went ashore, and were soon on the flat beach of
Khabarova, the Russians and Samoyedes regarding us with the utmost
curiosity. The first objects to attract our attention were the
two churches--an old venerable-looking wooden shed, of an oblong
rectangular form, and an octagonal pavilion, not unlike many
summer-houses or garden pavilions that I have seen at home. How
far the divergence between the two forms of religion was indicated
in the two mathematical figures I am unable to say. It might be
that the simpl