demons of the stream.

"Why are there so many obo?" we asked the Mongol.

"It is the River of the Devil, dangerous and crafty," replied the
Mongol. "Two days ago a train of carts went through the ice and three of
them with five soldiers were lost."

We started to cross. The surface of the river resembled a thick piece
of looking-glass, being clear and without snow. Our horses walked very
carefully but some fell and floundered before they could regain their
feet. We were leading them by the bridle. With bowed heads and trembling
all over they kept their frightened eyes ever on the ice at their feet.
I looked down and understood their fear. Through the cover of one foot
of transparent ice one could clearly see the bottom of the river. Under
the lighting of the moon all the stones, the holes and even some of the
grasses were distinctly visible, even though the depth was ten metres
and more. The Yaga rushed under the ice with a furious speed, swirling
and marking its course with long bands of foam and bubbles. Suddenly I
jumped and stopped as though fastened to the spot. Along the surface of
the river ran the boom of a cannon, followed by a second and a third.

"Quicker, quicker!" cried our Mongol, waving us forward with his hand.

Another cannon boom and a crack ran right close to us. The horses
swung back on their haunches in protest, reared and fell, many of them
striking their heads severely on the ice. In a second it opened up two
feet wide, so that I could follow its jagged course along the surface.
Immediately up out of the opening the water spread over the ice with a
rush.