"What do you think--can we go, Father?" he asked the missionary when they reached home. Father Pantelay was in a very good temper. "Perhaps we shall go.... If only he would be baptized! So many souls would be saved, for he rules the whole family." "Oh, he is sure to be baptized. If we go there, he will be baptized out of sheer hospitality to us. Besides, we can take him presents. Here it's different, and nothing will come of it." "That is true. In his native country a man is more inclined to listen to the voice of God, and a hard disposition is softened there more easily. For virtue is immanent in everyone's soul, but the way into the soul is often dark and crooked and difficult to find. People often need a pretext to bring them on to the highroad to good and salvation." Father Pantelay talked at great length on the difficulties of such a task, and, as Józef was an attentive listener and did not argue with him, they soon became great friends. Meanwhile Stefan gradually made preparations for the journey by buying up the best dogs. At length they started on their long missionary journey. It seemed like a waking dream to the two friends when, surrounded by a crowd of inhabitants, they shouted to the dogs and were borne away at full speed along the track. Excitedly they looked back at the little town for the last time. The caravan consisted of three sledges, each with fifteen dogs. Buza drove in front with the provisions. Father Pantelay followed with his luggage and presents--tea, tobacco, and other valuables; Stefan and Józef came behind. Józef had no idea how to manage the dogs, and was of no use whatever on the journey. Father Pantelay kept looking round at them and smiling in a friendly way. He was glad that he had taken them with him, for he was setting out for an unknown country, and although God is everywhere, and always has us under His protection, yet it is pleasant to be surrounded by courageous and friendly people with whom a refreshing and instructive conversation is possible. "I have never been farther in this direction than the edge of the tundra; the Spirit of God alone hovers over the waste beyond. Buza has been there; he has travelled to the world's end. Hey, Buza! what is it like farther on? Shall we be able to drink tea soon?" "Where we stop we shall drink tea," the Cossack answered gravely. He was immensely impressed by his own dignity as head of the expedition. He sat on the cask of vodka as if it were a throne, watching over it with a jealous eye.