This was not so easy to settle. Bets of this sort, I then learned, were quite the fashion, and were made on every kind of occasion—sometimes as the result of a serious argument, sometimes about a mere trifle; but there was rarely a controversy that did not terminate with the question, “Will you back that opinion?” If the other party tried to make excuses, there would be a chorus from the bystanders of “He shirks it!” and the reputation of a “shirker” was not a flattering one. The stake was usually some small matter, perhaps a little tea or tobacco, varying according to the importance of the subject in dispute. A “sou’s worth” of sugar was a common offer; but if the loser undertook to brew tea for the whole room that was considered a high stake, and the result was awaited with interest. Although these bets were more or less of a joke, they had also a more serious side. There are people who will dispute about every imaginable thing, and make the wildest assertions simply for the sake of arguing; and it must be confessed that after such heedless talkers had lost a few wagers they were more inclined to hold their tongues occasionally, though neither the chance of losses nor of earning the nickname of “shirker” could quite restrain some of our number from arguing in the air. My wager with M. was duly recorded, and it was agreed that the loser should provide cakes for all the inhabitants of the “nobles’ room.” This was a very high stake, costing several roubles, and the loser risked being without pocket-money for “secondary necessaries” during several months; but the question being one that might not be decided for a long while, the stake had to be considerable to sustain interest. Time proved me right. At the end of 1890 M. had lost his bet, and wished to pay his debt of honour; but I refused to allow him to do so, on the ground that circumstances had changed, and the former inmates of the “nobles’ room” would no longer be able to partake of the feast, many having by that time left the prison. M. would not hear of it at first, but ended by giving in. [Illustration: PRISONERS GOLD-WASHING AT KARA To face page 232 ] CHAPTER XXIV SOME DETAILS OF THE PRISON’S HISTORY—THE “TOM-CAT”—THE “SANHEDRIN’S ROOM”—MY FIRST SIBERIAN SPRING In conversation with those who had been imprisoned at Kara for some time one often heard the expressions: “That was before the May days,” or, “That happened after the 11th of May.” This mode of reckoning time had become current among us; everybody knew the story of the “May days,” which had been an epoch in the prison life of Kara, just as the “February days” had been a turning-point in French history. All that lay behind the “May days” was a sort of golden age, and after them came a time of storm and stress, years of gloom and misery. I will briefly narrate the story of these events.