'Yet who can help more easily than you?' said the Kniaź. 'What can I give, for example, I, who have only goods for sale, and debts? Should I distribute my debts in these hard times? It is true, I have nothing against that! Yet I too am a Tungus;--what would anyone gain from my accursed debts? They don't breed reindeer,' he ended, laughing. 'Yes, indeed! We should die without you, Seltichan! Who supports us? Whose herds are larger than yours? Who has a better heart? What family is more distinguished and richer? Whose sons are more skilled shots, and finer huntsmen? Whose daughters, when grown-up, most attract our youths? Are you not the first among us,--you who neither suffer nor fear, never lie, and never deceive as we do, and bow to your fate? You, Seltichan! And to whom shall we go, if you will not have pity on us?' came from all sides. 'The God knows, I will share with you! That is why I am here!' the old man answered, touched. 'Tumara! Tumara!' the Kniaź cried, seeking the story-teller, 'finish your tale. You will see, Seltichan, what happens later.' Silence prevailed again. Tumara, who was sitting in the front row of the councillors, stroked his right ear with his right hand, and began after a moment's pause. 'I have told you already how, having lost the reindeer, we took our goods and our children on our backs, and returned to the valley. Our children became ill, and soon died from eating bad meat, which made us weak too. But what can a hunter find in the wilderness at a time like that?' 'What, indeed?' 'Very soon we were entirely without food. We had eaten all our stores, leather bags, and old thongs, and the women's greasy scarves; there was nothing left that could have a taste. Do not we, who encamp on the mountains, know what hunger is? And was Tumara wanting in courage?' 'He was famous for it!' the listeners asseverated. 'But it happened thus, nevertheless;--we had been many, and only four were left,--I, my wife, my son, and daughter. We went on, always longing for the sight of human faces. We halted at all the known spots and ancient resting places, and everywhere found the cold ashes of fires:--the people had fled, scattered by the danger. And our wanderings took us ever further from them.