It was almost dark when Ivan halted before the yourte of Sakalar. It
was at once larger and cleaner to the eye than any of those around. It
had also numerous outhouses full of cows, and one or two men to tend
these animals were smoking their pipes at the door. Ivan gave his
horses to one of them, who knew him, and entered the hut. Sakalar, a
tall, thin, hardy man of about fifty, was just about to commence his
evening meal. A huge mass of boiled meat, stewed fish, and a sort of
soup, were ready; and a young girl about eighteen, neatly dressed,
clean, and pretty--all owing to her Yakoutsk education--was serving
the hunter.

"Spirit of the woods protect me!" shrieked the girl, spilling half of
the soup upon the floor.

"What wild horses have you seen, Kolina?" cried the hunter, who had
been a little scalded; and then seeing Ivan, added, "A Yakouta welcome
to you, my son! My old heart is glad, and I am warm enough to melt an
iceberg at the sight of you, Ivan. Kolina, quick! another platter, a
fresh mug, the best bottle of brandy, and my red pipe from Moscow!"

No need was there for the hunter to speak. Kolina, alert as a
reindeer, had sprung up from the low bench, and quickly brought forth
all their holiday ware, and even began to prepare a cake, such as Ivan
himself had taught her to make, knowing that be liked some sort of
bread with his meals.

"And where are you going?" cried Sakalar when the young man had
somewhat appeased his hunger.