The next morning, as the weather seemed to improve, and the road (along the Indiga River) to the next Russian settlement was easy to find, Castrén resolved to pursue his journey. “But the storm once more arose, and became so dreadfully violent that I could neither breathe nor keep my eyes open against the wind. The roaring of the gale stupefied my senses. The moist snow wetted me during the day, and the night converted it into ice. Half frozen, I arrived after midnight at the settlement. The fatigues of the journey had been such that I could scarcely stand; I had almost lost my consciousness, and my sight had suffered so much from the wind that I repeatedly ran with my forehead against the wall. The roaring of the storm continually resounded in my ears for many hours after.” A few days later Castrén arrived at Pustosersk, undoubtedly one of the dreariest places in the world. With scarcely a trace of arboreal vegetation, the eye, during the greater part of the year, rests on an interminable waste of snow, where the cold winds are almost perpetually raging. The storms are so violent as not seldom to carry away the roofs of the huts, and to prevent the wretched inhabitants from fetching water and fuel. In this Northern Eden our indefatigable ethnologist tarried several months, as it afforded him an excellent opportunity for continuing his studies of the language, manners, and religion of the Samoïedes, who come to the fair of Pustosersk during the winter, to barter their reindeer skins for flour and other commodities, and at the same time to indulge in their favorite beverage--brandy. At length the Samoïedes retired, the busy season of the place was evidently at an end, and Castrén, having no further inducement to remain at Pustosersk, left it for the village of Ustsylmsk, situated 150 versts higher up the Petschora, where he hoped still to find some straggling Samoïedes. The road to Ustsylmsk leads through so desolate a region, that, according to the priests of the neighborhood, it can not have been originally created by God with the rest of the world, but must have been formed after the Deluge. Near Ustsylmsk (65° 30´ N. lat.) the country improves, as most of the northern trees grow about the place; but, unfortunately, a similar praise can not be awarded to its inhabitants, whom Castrén found to be the most brutal and obstinate Raskolniks (or sectarians) he had ever seen. Without in the least caring for the Ten Commandments, and indulging in every vice, these absurd fanatics fancied themselves better than the rest of mankind, because they made the sign of the cross with the thumb and the two last fingers, and stood for hours together before an image in stupid contemplation. Our homeless traveller soon became the object of their persecutions; they called him “wizard,” “a poisoner of rivers and wells,” and insulted him during his walks. At length they even attempted to take his life,