Before commerce had been diverted into the valley of the Amur, thousands of pack-horses, under the guidance of Jakuts, annually crossed the Stanowoi hills on the way to Ochotsk; a journey of terrible difficulty, which might appal the stoutest nerves. But the Jakut endures the extremes of cold and hunger with a wonderful equanimity. He fears neither the stormy winds, the darkened heavens, the depth of the treacherous morass, nor the darkness and silence of the forest. Nothing appals him but the unseen presence of “Ljeschei,” the spirit of the mountain and the forest. The traveller frequently comes upon a fir-crowned hillock, and from the branches of one of the oldest firs sees suspended innumerable tufts of horse-hair. What does it mean? He needs not to inquire, for, lo! his Jakut driver, dismounting from his steed, hastens to pluck a few hairs from his horse’s mane, and then, with much reverence, attaches them to the nearest bough, in order to propitiate the terrible Ljeschei. Even Jakuts who have been baptized, and are nominally enrolled among the Christian population, are guilty of this silly bit of superstition; while it is suspected, on good grounds, that they still cherish their belief in Schamanism, and their ancient dread of evil spirits. When we remember, however, the absurd beliefs and vulgar errors still lingering in many parts of our own land, we are unable to pass a very severe verdict on the credulity of the Jakuts. When on the road they beguile the tedium of the way by singing songs of the most doleful character, corresponding to the habitual melancholy which they seem to have inherited from their forefathers; a melancholy suggested, probably, by the gloom of the landscape, the chilling aspect of the sky, the inclemency of the climate, and the prolonged battle in which their lives are passed. Their songs, not the less, are songs worthy of a bold and intelligent people, and, like the poetry of the Norsemen, are replete with images borrowed from nature. They constantly describe in glowing language the lofty magnificence of the snow-crowned mountains, the starry beauty of the night, the roll and rush of the river, the wail of the wind as it streams through a forest of pines. The Jakut minstrels are mostly improvisatores; and, to secure the favour of the Ljeschei, they will extol the charms of the wilderness over which it rules, as if that wilderness were a portion of Elysium. * * * * * The Jakut merchants are remarkable for their enterprise. Their capital is Jakutsk, on the Lena, and thence they extend their operations in all directions. In the rigour of winter they will lead their caravans to Ochotsk, or Kjachta, or Ostrownoje.