We determined to be comfortable on the way to Irkutsk.  We put our baggage in a telyaga with Maack’s servant and took the tarantass to ourselves.  The road was the same I traveled from Verkne Udinsk to Kiachta, crossing the Selenga at Selenginsk.  We slept most of the first night, and timed our arrival at Selenginsk so as to find the school in session.  During a brief halt while the smotretal prepared our breakfast, Maack visited the school-master at his post of duty.

Over the hills behind a lake about a day’s ride from Selenginsk there is a Bouriat village of a sacred character.  It is the seat of a large temple or lamisary whence all the Bouriats in Siberia receive their religious teachings.  A grand lama specially commissioned by the great chief of the Bhuddist faith at Thibet, presides over the lamisary.  He is supposed to partake of the immortal essence of Bhudda, and when his body dies, his spirit enters a younger person who becomes the lama after passing a certain ordeal.

The village is wholly devoted to religious purposes, and occupied exclusively by Bouriats.  I was anxious to visit it, but circumstances did not favor my desires.

We made both crossings of the Selenga on the ice without difficulty.  It was only a single day from the time the ferry ceased running until the ice was safe for teams.  We reached Verkne Udinsk late in the evening, and drove to a house where my companion had friends.  The good lady brought some excellent nalifka of her own preparation, and the more we praised it the more she urged us to drink.  What with tea, nalifka, and a variety of solid food, we were pretty well filled during a halt of two hours.

It was toward midnight when we emerged from the house to continue our journey.  Maack found his tarantass at Verkne Udinsk, and as it was larger and better than mine we assigned the latter to Evan and the baggage, and took the best to ourselves.  Evan was a Yakut whom my friend brought from the Lena country.  He was intelligent and active, and assisted greatly to soften the asperities of the route.  With my few words of Russian, and his quick comprehension, we understood each other very well.

During the first few hours from Verkne Udinsk the sky was obscured and the air warm.  My furs were designed for cold weather, and their weight in the temperature then prevailing threw me into perspiration.  In my dehar I was unpleasantly warm, and without it I shivered.  I kept alternately opening and closing the garment, and obtained very little sleep up to our arrival at the first station.  While we were changing horses the clouds blew away and the temperature fell several degrees.  Under the influence of the cold I fell into a sound sleep, and did not heed the rough, grater-like surface of the recently frozen road.

From Verkne Udinsk to Lake Baikal, the road follows the Selenga valley, which gradually widens as one descends it.  The land appears fertile and well adapted to farming purposes but only a small portion is under cultivation.  The inhabitants are pretty well rewarded for their labor if I may judge by the appearance of their farms and villages.  Until reaching Ilyensk, I found the cliffs and mountains extending quite near the river.  In some places the road is cut into the rocks in such a way as to afford excitement to a nervous traveler.