The Chinese customs authorities demanded my lockers, and collected eighty-four rubles in customs duty. A long line of Russians and Chinese, which reached the entire length of the long and dark corridor in the station, waited before the closed ticket window--to buy tickets for the train leaving twenty-four hours later. Many of them had been camping there for days, having food brought to them from the restaurant, in order to buy tickets, which incidentally, gave them only the right to try and get aboard the train. We breakfasted in the restaurant, it requiring two hours before we were served. And we waited more than an hour before we could get a seat, while Russians and Chinese held the seats and read newspapers over a single cup of tea. Shortly after nine the American railway officer appeared, and told me that he had reserved space in the Vladivostok train the morning before. As we had not claimed it, he had come to the conclusion that we had not left Chita at all, so did not make any reservation in the next train. In disgust Captain B---- suggested that we go to the local _sobrania_ and kill time eating. We walked there, some dozen blocks distant, in the face of a gentle breeze, which intensified the bitter cold. On the way, Captain B---- chanced to look at me. Without warning he shoved me toward a small snow bank, and thrust a handful of snow into my face, rubbing it in hastily. My nose and cheeks were freezing, and I did not know it. But before we reached the _sobrania_ I was chilled to the marrow, and shook so hard after I had sat down at a table, that the dishes rattled. My teeth chattered for a couple of hours, and my shivers were so violent that I had difficulty in drinking the hot tea I ordered. In fact, I shivered violently for two days and nights, though I sat nearly all day in the _sobrania_ restaurant with my back against a slightly warm wall-stove. We spent the night once more in the colonel’s car, but were up before daylight in order to begin our offensive for space in the next Vladivostok train. With Captain B---- and Werkstein, I ran down the whole length of the train as it arrived in the terribly cold morning with only the light from the frozen stars, seeking for the best cars. We identified the steel cars from the wooden ones by their coats of hoar frost. The great mob in the station surged out and attacked the train before the sleepy passengers began to get off with their baggage. Immediately there was a terrific jam. [Illustration: SOME AMERICAN RAILROAD MEN OF THE “RUSSIAN RAILWAY SERVICE”] [Illustration: WASHING CLOTHES IN SIXTY-BELOW-ZERO WEATHER]