[Illustration:  CONCENTRATED ENERGIES.]

A Russian yemshick centers his whole duty in driving his team.  He gives no thought to the carriage or the persons inside; they must look out for their own interest.  Let him come to a hill, rough or smooth, rocky or gravelly, provided there be no actual danger, he descends at his best speed.  Sometimes the horses trot, and again they gallop down a long slope.  Near the bottom they set out on a full run, as if pursued by a pack of hungry wolves.  They dash down the hill, across the hollow, and part way up the opposite ascent without slacking speed.  The carriage leaps, bumps, and rattles, and the contents, animate or inanimate, are tossed violently.  If there is a log bridge in the hollow the effect is more than electric.  The driver does not even turn his head to regard his passengers.  If the carriage holds together and follows it is all that concerns him.

At first I was not altogether enamored of this practice.  But as I never suffered actual injury and the carriages endured their rough treatment, I came in time to like it.  As a class the Russian yemshicks are excellent drivers, and in riding behind more than three hundred of them I had abundant opportunity to observe their skill.  They are not always intelligent and quick to devise plans in emergencies, but they are faithful and know the duties of their profession.  For speed and safety I would sooner place myself in their hands than behind professional drivers in New York.  They know the rules of the road, the strength and speed of their horses, and are almost uniformly good natured.

We reached Chetah at five in the morning and roused the inmates of the only hotel.  The sleepy chelavek showed us to a room containing two chairs, two tables, and a dirty sofa.  The Cossack brought our baggage from the tarantass, and we endeavored to sleep.  When we rose Borasdine went to call upon the governor while I ordered breakfast on my own account.  Summoning the chelavek I began, “Dai samovar, chi, saher e kleb,” (give the samovar, tea, bread, and sugar.) This accomplished, I procured beefsteaks and potatoes without difficulty.  I spoke the language of the country in a fragmentary way, but am certain my Russian was not half as bad as the beefsteak.

CHAPTER XXIV.

Chetah stands on the left bank of the Ingodah, nearly three hundred miles above Stratensk, and is the capital of the Trans-Baikal province.  For many years it was a small town with a few hundred inhabitants, but the opening of the Amoor in 1854 changed its character.  Below this point the Ingodah is navigable for boats and rafts, and during the early years of the Amoor occupation much material was floated down from Chetah.  In 1866 its population, including the garrison, was about five thousand.  Many houses were large and well fitted, and all were of wood.  The officers lived comfortably, but complained of high rents.