[Illustration:  DOGS FISHING.]

Two or three years ago a mail carrier from Ayan to Yakutsk was visited by a bear during a night halt.  The mail bag was lying by a tree a few steps from the Cossack, and near the bank of a brook.  The bear seized and opened the pouch, regardless of the government seal on the outside.  After turning the letter package several times in his paws, he tossed it into the brook.  The Cossack discharged his pistol to frighten the bear, and then fished the letters from the water.  It is proper to say the package was addressed to an officer somewhat famous for his bear-hunting proclivities.

When we left Ohotsk at the close of day, we took Captain Mahood and the governor to dine with us, and when our guests departed we hoisted anchor and steamed away.  Captain Lund burned a blue light as a farewell signal, and we could see an answering fire on shore.  Our course lay directly southward, and when our light was extinguished we were barely visible through the distance and gloom.

“But true to our course, though our shadow grow dark,
  We’ll trim our broad sail as before;
And stand by the rudder that governs the bark,
  Nor ask how we look from the shore.”

CHAPTER IX.

On the Ohotsk Sea we had calms with light winds, and made very slow progress.  One day while the men were exercising at the guns, the look out reported a sail.  We were just crossing the course from Ayan to Ghijiga, and were in the Danzig’s track.  The strange vessel shortened sail and stood to meet us, and before long we were satisfied it was our old acquaintance.  At sunset we were several miles apart and nearing very slowly.  The night was one of the finest I ever witnessed at sea; the moon full and not a cloud visible, and the wind carrying us four or five miles an hour.  The brig was lying to, and we passed close under her stern, shortening our sail as we approached her.  Everybody was on deck and curious to learn the news.

“SDRASTVETEH,” shouted Captain Lund when we were in hearing distance.

“SDRASTVETEH,” responded the clear voice of Phillipeus; and then followed the history of the Danzig’s voyage.

“We had a good voyage to Ayan, and staid there four days.  We are five days out, and passed through a heavy gale on the second day.  Going to Ghijiga.”

Then we replied with the story of our cruise and asked for news from Europe.

“War in progress.  France and Austria against Prussia, Italy, and Russia.  No particulars.”

By this time the ships were separated and our conversation ended.  It was conducted in Russian, but I knew enough of the language to comprehend what was said.  There was a universal “eh!” of astonishment as the important sentence was completed.

Here were momentous tidings; France and Russia taking part in a war that was not begun when I left America.  A French fleet was in Japanese waters and might be watching for us.  It had two ships, either of them stronger than the Variag.