The sleigh was righted; the travellers once more took their seats; and on through the darkening day they drove, until they came to a long straggling village, where the horses stopped before a detached cottage. Benumbed with the bitter cold, Major Burnaby and his companion dashed inside, and made haste, in front of a blazing stove, to restore the suspended circulation. Then, while the women of the house made tea in a samovar, or urn, they unfroze in the stove some cutlets and bread which they had carried with them, and proceeded to enjoy a hearty repast. In one hour’s time they were ready to start; but their driver demurred. The snowstorm was heavy; wolves prowled along the track; the river ice might give way. It was better to wait until the morning, when, with beautiful horses, they might go like birds to the next station. The two travellers could do nothing with him, and were compelled to resign themselves to pass the night on the hard boards, in an atmosphere infested by many unpleasant smells. A good hour before sunrise all were again in motion. The Major and his companion abandoned their heavy troika, and engaged two small sleighs with a pair of horses to each, one for themselves and one to carry their luggage. It was a glorious winter morning, and the sun came forth like a bridegroom to run his course, invested with indescribable pomp of colour. First, over the whole of the eastern horizon extended a pale blue streak, which seemed, like a wall, to shut off the vast Beyond. Suddenly its summit changed into rare lapis-lazuli, while its base became a sheet of purple. From the darker lines shot wondrous waves of grey and crystal; and in time the purple foundations upheaved into glowing seas of fire. The wall broke up into castles, battlements, and towers—all with magical gleams, which gradually floated far away, while the seas of flame, lighting up the whole horizon, burst through their borders and swelled into a mighty ocean. The sight was one on which the eye of man could scarcely gaze. The sunny expanse of the winter-bound earth reflected as in a mirror the celestial panorama. Shafts of light seemed to dart in rapid succession from earth to sky, until at last the vast luminous orb of day rose from the depth of the many-coloured radiance, and with its surpassing glory put everything else to shame. The travellers reached Samara—a well-built prosperous town, situated on a tributary of the Volga. There Major Burnaby parted from his companion, whose road thenceforward lay in a different direction, and proceeded to make his preparations for a drive across the steppes to Orenburg.