"This is your property," was the response; "we could not keep it in
our tents, and it was our duty to bring it to you."

The wandering Koriaks estimate property in deer as our Indians count
in horses. It is only among the thousands that wealth is eminently
respectable. Some Koriaks own ten or twelve thousand deer, and one
fortunate native is the possessor of forty thousand in his own name,
(O-gik-a-mu-tik.) Though the wealthiest of his tribe, he does not
drive fast horses, and never aspired to a seat in Congress. How much
he has missed of real life!

Reindeer form the circulating medium, and all values are expressed in
this four-footed currency. The animal supplies nearly every want. They
eat his meat and pick his bones, and not only devour the meat, but the
stomach, entrails, and their contents. When they stew the mass of meat
and half digested moss, the stench is disgusting. Captain Kennan told
me that when he arrived among the Koriaks the peculiar odor made him
ill, and he slept out of doors with the thermometer at -35° rather
than enter a tent where cooking was in progress.

[Illustration: KORIAK YOURT.]

The Koriaks build their summer dwellings of light poles covered with
skin, or bark. Their winter habitations are of logs covered with earth
and partly sunk into the ground, the crevices being filled with moss.
The summer dwellings are called _balagans_, and the winter ones
_yourts_, but the latter name is generally applied to both. A winter
yourt has a hole in the top, which serves for both chimney and door.
The ladder for the descent is a hewn stick, with holes for one's feet,
and leans directly over the fire. Whatever the outside temperature,