cross, hundreds of poklony (bowings) holding
tapers, and kissing the hand of the pope (priest).
The sight of the latter always made me feel
uncomfortable, for I was afraid he would ask me
to repeat the Russian creed, of which I knew
nothing. Happily he was content with my
poklony, which I performed witli equal zeal and
dexterity, though it is hard work to touch the
ground with one's head a hundred times
consecutively without bending the knees, according
to the orthodox Russian fashion. Confession I
avoided, pretending to have performed that duty
in full a few days before at Lalsk, and so I got
safely through the holy week.

Oustioug is the great depot of the produce of
the provinces of Viatka, Perm, Vologda, and
Siberia. It consists in corn of all kinds, flax,
hemp, tallow, salted meat, resins, wood, furs,
&c. and is transported by the Dvina to
Archangel, and thence to all quarters of the globe.
Numbers of sailors assemble at Oustioug to
wait for the breaking up of the ice, and freight
their countless vessels. The masters, called
prikastehiki, give the bohomolets free passages,
on condition that they find their own provisions;
and such among the pilgrims as agree to work
at the oar are paid fifteen roubles at the end of
the voyage: hands being eagerly sought for. I
had never rowed in a large boat, but I was glad
of the opportunity of recruiting my finances.
Since I left Irbit I had spent exactly fifteen
roubles, and here were the means of replacing
them. On the first day the Dvina became
navigable, I accepted service with a number of
others, and in the bustle of going on board
my pass was scarcely looked at: the master
being satisfied with the mere sight of the stamp
on it.

On the 16th of May, then, I was installed
in one of the vessels ready to start for
Archangel. These Dvina boats are very curious
constructions. Seen from a distance they resemble
a floating barn art having nothing to do with
their form; everything is left to the muscular
labour of the sailors, of whom there are from
forty to sixty in each. The number of oars is
between thirty and forty; they are merely slender
fir-trees. Among the many strange objects on
board, the cooking-place is the strangest. It is
a great square wooden case, placed on the roof
of the vessel, is supported on four posts, and is
half filled with earth. The fire is always kept
alive, and, from two large trees which are crossed
above it, hang all the cooking utensils. We
went on board with our baggage in the evening,
and slept there. At daybreak the nosnik, or
captain of the boat, cried with a loud voice,
"Take your seats, and pray to God!" Every
one chose a place on the roof, and, after crouching
for a moment in a mussulman attitude, rose
and performed the poklony, with numberless
signs of the cross. The people now, every one
on board, from the captain to the poorest
pilgrim, threw a piece of copper money into the
river a ceremony always performed to render
the waters of the Dvina propitious. These
religious exercises, without the sacrifice of money,
are constant throughout the voyage. Ours
lasted a fortnight; and when the gilded domes
of the churches of Archangel glittered before
us in the sun, the crews uttered shouts
of joy, heaved their cooking-chests overboard,
and broke their oars—their last tribute to
the river. On our arrival in the port we each
received our passport, and the money we had
earned.

I was now at the place I had so long looked
upon as my haven of safety. My thanks to
God for having protected me so far, were, I
can affirm, no less sincere than those of my
brother pilgrims, though our objects were
not the same. I took care, however, to avoid
acting with precipitation, and to sustain the
character of a bohomolets I went with my
companions to the station of Solovetsk (Solovetski
dvorets), vast buildings erected for the
convevenience of the shrine-worshippers by the monks
of the holy island, where I deposited my light
baggage—fortunate in no demand being made for
my passport. For several days I continued to
practise all the requisite religious ceremonies
preparatory to visiting the convent; but this
occupation did not prevent me from finding my
way down to the quays, in the hope of finding
a French vessel, on board of which I might
obtain a passage. I wistfully examined every
flag, but the tricolor was not among them.
The greater part of the ships were from
England; a few from Holland, Sweden, and
Hamburg; but not one from France. Nor was I
long in perceiving that on the deck of every
vessel was a Russian sentinel, besides those who
were stationed at intervals along the quays, so
that to escape their vigilance was impossible. As
I assumed to be a Russian peasant, to have spoken
to any of the sailors in German or French would
at once have attracted attention, and caused
my immediate arrest. For three days I watched
and waited for an opportunity, but none came,
and I arrived at last at the sad conviction that
I must not reckon on the port of Archangel.
My delay in embarking for the holy island
began to excite surprise among the bohomolets,
and to linger in the city until a French
ship arrived was too dangerous a step to hazard,
so I resolved once more to try my fortune on
land.

On the morning after I had taken this resolution
I rose at daybreak and reclaimed my wallet
from the porter at the station, telling him I was
going to the shrine. I then purchased a few
loaves and some salt, and crossed the Dvina, in
the direction of the promontory which faces the
island of Solovetsk. My way for several days
lay through a marshy country sprinkled with
stunted fir trees, and I slept chiefly in the open
air. At last I reached the southern shore of the
Bay of Archangel, which I skirted closely. One
day I arrived at a small village where, amidst a
multitude of bohomolets, were a number of my
Dormer companions from Veliki-Oustioug. They
lad set out before me from Archangel, embarking
direct for the holy island in boats called
karbasses, and had been driven into this place by a