I have often been in the criminal prison of Kara, and witnessed there the life of the convicts in their cells and in the workshops, as they went about their various occupations. The employment of convict labour in the gold-washing had been abandoned by that time, having been found too costly; and the convicts were occupied with so-called “domestic work.” Among other things they were used in transport, to take the place of beasts of burden; and the spectacle of men—even of women—harnessed to heavy carts, and moving painfully along like oxen in a yoke, was altogether revolting. About a year after our establishment in the settlement, convict labour in Kara was entirely given up; the convicts were taken away, some to serve in the construction of the Siberian railway, (then just begun,) some to the island of Saghalien or to other penitentiaries. With the convicts departed their guards, the Cossacks, and other officials; our settlement was well-nigh depopulated, and life became more monotonous than ever. However, one advantage ensued for us: we could use the abandoned dwellings of the officials, and so lived more comfortably henceforward. We were on the best of terms with the few inhabitants who were left; we taught their children, assisted them with our counsel when we could, and gave them medical and legal advice. To these people a “political” seemed a compendium of learning, and they applied to us on every kind of occasion. Now it was strictly forbidden us to engage in any work that could interfere with that of practitioners of the “liberal professions”; by law we were not allowed to teach or to give medical aid; yet, circumstanced as we were, the officials themselves were not above calling for our help, notwithstanding the infringement of the law. Of course, therefore, they could not very well bring us to account for our dealings with civilians. Only on one occasion did this kind of thing lead to any unpleasantness, and I will briefly relate that occurrence.