"When we have passed the edge of the forest there will be no more houses or people to be seen. After that vodka will be all-powerful, and will have to answer every purpose; even our lives depend on it. Those cursed Chukchee drink it like fishes, and are wild to get it. When they've had a little, they are ready to give up everything for it; you've only to ask, and you can get anything from them. Yet we shall have nothing with us when we come back, for we shall have eaten our provisions and given away the presents. The sledges will be empty, and there won't be any means of reloading them; and as the dogs will have grown fat through resting and eating reindeer paunch at Otowaka's, there'll be no holding them, and we shall tear back. Ha, ha! Hey!" He alternately reflected, shouted, or sang a local song in a thin voice: "O Sidorek, O Sidorek, The light breath of warm breezes Blows over land and sea! Now go and fetch your sleigh; Harness the dogs without delay. Out to the rocks let them swiftly take you, Out to the rocks by the shore of the sea, O Sidorek, O Sidorek!" "Buza, Buza, curb your frivolity!" Father Pantelay admonished him from a distance, as, in the silence of that frozen waste, his voice reached the other travellers through the clear, cold air. The March sun made the snowdrifts appear so bright and smooth that by contrast the smallest bush seemed like a wood, and the slightest unevenness a hill. Soon, however, the summits of distant mountains showed on the horizon, with their white line sharply defined against the blue sky. The travellers turned towards these, and spent the night in a lonely fishing hut, the last human habitation, on the very outskirts of the dwindling forest. Henceforward they had only snow, rocks, and sky round them; the only trees to be seen were those washed down by the sea or by river floods, and the only people those in Otowaka's encampment. The strong, well-fed dogs went at a brisk pace. After a day's journey the travellers unexpectedly found themselves at the brink of a steep chasm. Below it a snowy expanse showed as far as the eye could reach. "The sea!" Buza cried. They had guessed in time, and stopped the dogs. "Do you see those specks shining in the distance, as if they were bits of sun? Those are ice-packs. But farther away--under that cloud on the horizon--is the open sea which never freezes. They say there is land beyond it; but no one has ever been there, for whoever goes doesn't come back." For a while they stood entranced by the extent of the view and by the sun, which threw delicate blue shadows on the long, still, frozen waves. At last Buza reminded them that they must descend the cliffs and drive along the shore. They passed dark chasms all day long, for the sea had formed a bay here, and the whole shore was equally steep and defended by rocks.