At last, after more than twenty days of terrible fatigue, there was seen looming in the distance what was no doubt the promised land.  The sledges were hurried forward—­for they were drawing toward the end of their provisions—­and the whole party was at length collected on the summit of a lofty mountain of ice.  Before them were the hills of New Siberia; to their right a prodigious open sea:  and at their feet, as far as the eye could reach, a narrow channel of rapid water, through which huge lumps of ice rushed so furiously, as to have no time to cement into a solid mass.

The adventurers stood aghast.  But Sakalar led the way to the very brink of the channel, and moved quietly along its course until he found what he was in search of.  This a sheet or floe of ice, large enough to bear the whole party, and yet almost detached from the general field.  The sledges were put upon it, and then, by breaking with their axes the narrow tongue which held it, it swayed away into the tempestuous sea.  It almost turned round as it started.  The sledges and dogs were placed in the middle, while the five men stood at the very edge to guide it as far as possible with their hunting spears.

In a few minutes it was impelled along by the rapid current, but received every now and then a check when it came in contact with heavier and deeper masses.  The Kolimsk men stood transfixed with terror as they saw themselves borne out toward that vast deep sea which eternally tosses and rages round the Arctic Pole:  but Sakalar, in a peremptory tone, bade them use their spears.  They pushed away heartily; and their strange raft, though not always keeping its equilibrium, was edged away both across and down the stream.  At last it began to move more slowly, and Sakalar found himself under the shelter of a huge iceberg, and then impelled up stream by a backwater current.  In a few minutes the much wished-for shore was reached.

The route was rude and rugged as they approached the land; but all saw before them the end of their labors for the winter, and every one proceeded vigorously.  The dogs seemed to smell the land, or at all events some tracks of game, for they hurried on with spirit.  About an hour before the usual time of camping they were under a vast precipice, turning which, they found themselves in a deep and sheltered valley, with a river at the bottom, frozen between its lofty banks, and covered by deep snow.

“The ivory mine!” said Sakalar in a low tone to Ivan, who thanked him by an expressive look.

* * * * *

THE RUSSIAN SERF.

“In the Russian peasant lies the embryo of the Russian chivalric spirit, the origin of our nation’s grandeur.”

“Cunning fellows they are, the vagabonds,” remarked Vassily Ivanovitsch.

“Yes, cunning, and thereby clever; quick in imitation, quick in appropriating what is new or useful—­ready prepared for civilization.  Try to teach a laborer in foreign countries anything out of the way of his daily occupation, and he will still cling to his plow:  with us, only give the word, and the peasant becomes musician, painter, mechanic, steward, anything you like.”