coats, cloaks, felt boots, with legs reaching up
to the hips, and a mass of small miscellaneous
luggage for the younger travellers, filled up the
corners, or were hung round the inside of the
vehicles, and boxes were strapped on the outside
with strong ropes.

We saw the last of Russian civilisation as we
passed out by the gate at twelve A.M., and
dashed on at full stretch, changing horses at
every sixteen or eighteen versts. Station after
station passed and no rest from the bumping
and jostling, but the road here was first-rate,
and the arrangements with the beds and pillows
turned out famously. Let no man, still less
woman or child, travel in a tarantass without
such safety-breaks between the bones and the
hard wood. We stopped at four o'clock, went
into a station-house, asked for the urn, and
dined on tea, sardines, and bread. Then off
again at the same speed. Sundry bottles of
milk-and-water, with more solid victual, served
for our family supper, eaten as we ran. After
this the children sang themselves to sleep,
while Harry and I, fortified with brandy-and-
water and pistols, mounted guard on separate
boxes by the drivers, to be ready against
mischance during the night. All went well
during the small hours, except that watchful
Harry fell from his box into a ditch.
We had to stop and pick him out. Soon afterwards,
he nodded his fur cap into the road,
and when we were obliged to pull up and search
for it, attacked the driver for having knocked
it off.

At three o'clock, we lumbered into a town
called Serpukov, passing, as we entered, a large
cotton-mill lighted up with gas, and even at
that hour in full work. Here occurred one of
those unforeseen troubles which mar Russian
travelling, and bring out the inventive money-
making powers of the native. It was December.
"The little winter" had brought ice and snow;
thaw following, had melted these; then frost
enough had set in again to harden the roads,
without making the rivers safe for crossing.
Now, it happens that the river Ova, which
rises in the south country near Koursk, and falls
into the Volga near Nishni Novgorod, running
through or by this town of Serpukov, here lay
across our path. But the pontoon bridge had
been, as usual, removed for the winter; the
river was enough frozen to prevent boats or
barges from crossing, and so we were told that
here we must wait two or three days, until the
ice could be crossed safely by horses and
carriages. More than a hundred travelling
equipages, thus brought to a stand-still, were drawn
up on the banks, and every hour more were
arriving. All the inns and lodging-houses were
filled by the grumblings of river and ice-bound
travellers. Bread, tea, and all the necessaries
of life, including lodgings, had risen in price
four hundred per cent. Even a samovar, or urn
of hot water, could not be had under a rouble.
By six o'clock, we had managed to obtain one
of these excellent articles, and got a capital
breakfast out of our own stores, the breakfast-
room being the two tarantasses placed together.
We had come too late to find other shelter, and
many about us were in a like position. The
delay continued until ten o'clock, when the cold
was becoming unendurable. Help then appeared
in the person of a very well dressed, polite, and
civil gentleman, a baron and landholder of the
neighbourhood. He took a philanthropic
interest in our condition, bewailed with us, and
sympathised with us to our hearts' content, but
he said, "It must be endured!"

"What!" I cried, "two or three days
starving here in the cold with women and
children?"

"Yes, here at Serpukov, the river won't bear
for that time. Now, at my place, twenty versts
down, the river is already quite firm all the way
across. If you were all there you could get
over easily, and then 'cross country a few versts
to the main road."

"But this is much better than waiting here!
And how are we to get to your place?"

"Ah!" he said, "if my time would permit,
I should be happy to show the way; I have
spoken to some others, and they are imploring
me to go."

"Well, then, let me implore you also. But"
—and I hesitated to ask the question of a baron
and landowner—"how much will you expect
for your trouble?"

"Oh," he said, "you insult me now by such a
question! Am I a Moscovsky dog, or a Chinovnick,
to take money for an act of kindness?
A little for my men, who must assist, is all it
will cost."

"Well, let us go, and with all my heart I
thank you for delivering us out of this
difficulty."

By the time a bargain had been made with
the drivers for fresh horses, and another guinea
paid for each conveyance (because my posting
receipt did not include this deviation from the
main road), I found more than a dozen other
equipages ready to start with us. But they all
took care to keep behind, and let us have the
post of honour, since it might be also the post
of danger. We were preceded, however, by our
kind, disinterested baron, who was leading the
way in a light car drawn by a good black horse.
There was no road, nor semblance of a road.
Our course lay through woods, fields, and
ditches; over hills, and down into pathless
valleys, for the most part as uncultivated as the
prairies of America, but not so fertile. At
length, after four hours of horrible jolting, and
many hair-breadth escapes from overturning,
our caravan arrived at the point indicated. We
drew up on the bank of the river, and surveyed
the scene. The river itself might be four hundred
feet broad; the opposite shore was steep and
precipitous. To within thirty feet of the banks
the ice seemed to be strong and firm, but for
these thirty feet it was entirely free of ice, and
a black gulf of deep and rapid running water
lay between. This must be bridged across.
The baron gave a peculiar whistle, and
soon about twenty men—his own serfs—