The hand with the magnet was now in the proper position, and the needle pointed steadily toward Ghijiga. Old Chrisoffsky sat with amazement and fear pictured all over his face. He glanced over his shoulder as if looking for some place to run, and exclaimed in a deep and piteous tone, "Dia Bog!" which means, "O Lord." After a long silence he asked me if the compass would answer his questions as well. I said I did not know, but that he might try it and see. Concentrating his whole attention upon the compass, he bent over it and tried to imitate my motions, and asked the instrument to tell him the direction in which his house lay. Of course the needle, which, meanwhile, I had been causing to swing about in all directions, now came to a standstill due north, directly away from his house. He looked puzzled and said it must be because he did not understand the wizard formula, and I promised to teach it to him at some future time. I also performed some other simple tricks, which actually frightened him so that for a time he went out and sat in the snow all alone. I found later that my reputation as a wizard spread through that whole district, and time and time again I had to go over these old tricks before admiring audiences. [Illustration: Mr. Vanderlip on March with Deer Outfit.] During the night of the fifth day the storm passed and the stars came out once more. Our bedraggled party crawled forth from our prison, and harnessed up the weak, but willing, dogs, who seemed to know that we were not far from home; for they tugged at their collars gladly, and we were soon gliding over the snow. Ten miles from Chrisoffsky's house we came down upon the wind-swept ice of the Chorny Raichka, a tributary of the Ghijiga. From this point the going was ideal. We had timber on both sides, but we did not stop to build a fire. The dogs were very weak, yet they displayed wonderful mettle, knowing they were near home. They went so fast that the sledges were continually slewing about on the smooth ice in imminent danger of capsizing; but they were steadied by a clever use of the polka. While still a mile from Chrisoffsky's, we saw women and children running out to meet us. Because of the storm and the fact that we were two weeks overdue, we knew that there would be anxious mothers and wives in the little village. We came in with a flourish, a score of children hanging on the sides of the sledges. We encountered a terrific storm of kisses, which I evaded as best I could. Willing hands unhitched the faithful dogs, and then we all went into the house. The village was warned of our approach while still far away, because each dog carried a little sleigh-bell on his back. The people had heard the tinkling of the bells sometime before we had come in sight.