There is no free telegraphing on the government lines, every despatch over the wires being paid for by somebody.  If on government business the sender pays the regular tariff and is reimbursed from the treasury.  I was told that the officers of the telegraph paid for their own family messages, but had the privilege of conversing on the lines free of charge.  High position does not confer immunity.  When the Czarevitch was married, General Korsackoff sent his congratulations by telegraph, and received a response from the Emperor.  Both messages were paid for by the sender without reduction or trust.

I found the general features of Krasnoyarsk much like those of Irkutsk.  Official and civilian inhabitants dressed, lived, walked, breathed, drank, and gambled like their kindred nearer the east.  It happened to be market day, and the public square was densely crowded.  I was interested in observing the character and abundance of the fish offered for sale.  Among those with a familiar appearance were the sturgeon, perch, and pike, and a small fish resembling our alewife.  There was a fish unknown to me, with a long snout like a duck’s bill, and a body on the extreme clipper model.  All these fish are from the Yenesei, some dwelling there permanently while others ascend annually from the Arctic Ocean.  All in the market were frozen solid, and the larger ones were piled up like cord-wood.

From the bank overlooking the river there is a fine view of the valley of the Yenesei.  There are several islands in the vicinity, and I was told that in the season of floods the stream has a very swift current.  It is no easy work to ferry across it, and the boats generally descend a mile or two while paddling over.  A few years ago a resident of Krasnoyarsk made a remarkable voyage on this river.  He had been attending a wedding several miles away on the other bank, and started to return late at night so as to reach the ferry about daybreak.  His equipage was a wooden telyaga drawn by two powerful horses.  Having partaken of the cup that inebriates, the man fell asleep and allowed his horses to take their own course.  Knowing the way perfectly they came without accident to the ferry landing, their owner still wrapped in his drunken slumber.

[Illustration:  VALLEY OF THE YENESEI.]

The boat was on the other side, and the horses, no doubt hungry and impatient, plunged in to swim across.  The telyaga filled with water, but had sufficient buoyancy not to sink.  The cold bath waked and sobered the involuntary voyager when about half way over the river.  He had the good sense, aided by fright, to remain perfectly still, and was landed in safety.  Those who saw him coming in the early dawn were struck with astonishment, and one, at least, imagined that he beheld Neptune in his marine chariot breasting the waters of the Yenesei.  My informant vouched for the correctness of the story, and gave it as an illustration of the courage and endurance of Siberian horses.  According to the statement of the condition of the river, the beasts could have as easily crossed the Mississippi at Memphis in an ordinary stage of water.