the flames
of Poshkavsk.

Nevertheless, the fugitives, lighted every now and then by the glare,
would have been undoubtedly perceived had not the incendiaries been too
much occupied in their work of destruction.

It may be imagined what were the apprehensions of Jolivet and Blount,
when they thought of the combustible liquid on which the raft floated.
Sparks flew in millions from the houses, which resembled so many glowing
furnaces. They rose among the volumes of smoke to a height of five or
six hundred feet. On the right bank, the trees and cliffs exposed to
the fire looked as if they likewise were burning. A spark falling on the
surface of the Angara would be sufficient to spread the flames along the
current, and to carry disaster from one bank to the other. The result
of this would be in a short time the destruction of the raft and of all
those which it carried.

But, happily, the breeze did not blow from that side. It came from the
east, and drove the flames towards the left. It was just possible that
the fugitives would escape this danger. The blazing town was at last
passed. Little by little the glare grew dimmer, the crackling became
fainter, and the flames at last disappeared behind the high cliffs which
arose at an abrupt turn of the river.

By this time it was nearly midnight. The deep gloom again threw its
protecting shadows over the raft. The Tartars were there, going to and
fro near the river. They could not be seen, but they could be heard. The
fires of the outposts burned brightly.

In the meantime it had become necessary to steer more carefully among
the blocks of ice. The old boatman stood up, and the moujiks resumed
their poles. They had plenty of work, the management of the raft
becoming more and more difficult as the river was further obstructed.

Michael had crept forward; Jolivet followed; both listened to what the
old boatman and his men were saying.

"Look out on the right!"

"There are blocks drifting on to us on the left!"

"Fend! fend off with your boat-hook!"

"Before an hour is past we shall be stopped!"

"If it is God's will!" answered the old man. "Against His will there is
nothing to be done."

"You hear them," said Alcide.

"Yes," replied Michael, "but God is with us!"

The situation became more and more serious. Should the raft be stopped,
not only would the fugitives not reach Irkutsk, but they would be
obliged to leave their floating platform, for it would be very so