Imperial subjects before selling or purchasing goods. The Ispravnik is
an artist of unusual merit, as evinced by an album of his sketches
illustrating life in Northern Siberia. Some of them appeared like
steel engravings, and testified to the skill and patience of the man
who made them.

On my second day at Ghijiga I tried a river journey with a dog team.
The bottom of the boat was on the 'dug-out' principle, and the sides
were two planks meeting in sharp and high points at the ends. I had a
seat on some bearskins on the plank flooring, and found it reasonably
comfortable. One man steered the boat, another in the bow managed the
towline, and a third, who walked on land, drove the dogs. We had seven
canines--three pairs and a leader--pulling upon a deerskin towline
fastened to a thole-pin. It was the duty of the man in the bow to
regulate the towline according to circumstances. The dogs were
unaccustomed to their driver, and balky in consequence. Two of them
refused to pull when we started, and remained obstinate until
persuaded with sticks. The driver used neither reins nor whip, but
liberally employed the drift wood along the banks. Clubs were trumps
in that day's driving. The team was turned to the left by a guttural
sound that no paper and ink can describe, and to the right by a rapid
repetition of the word 'ca.'

[Illustration: TOWED BY DOGS]

Occasionally the path changed from one bank to the opposite. At such
times we seated the dogs in the bow of the boat and ferried them over
the river. In the boat they were generally quiet, though inclined to
bite each other's legs at convenient opportunities. One muddy dog
shook himself over me; I forgave him, but his driver did not, the