Even in Siberia the climate of this place is ill-reputed for its severity, which is as much due to its unfavorable position as to its high latitude (68° N.). The town stands on a low swampy island of the Kolyma, having on the west the barren tundra, and on the north the Arctic Ocean, so that the almost constant north-west winds have full scope for their violence, and cause frequent snow-storms even in summer. The mean temperature of the whole year is only +14°. The river at Nishne-Kolymsk freezes early in September, but lower down, where the current is less rapid, loaded horses can sometimes cross on the ice as early as August 20, nor does the ice ever melt before June. Although the sun remains fifty-two days above the horizon, the light, obscured by almost perpetual mists, is accompanied with little heat, and the solar disc, compressed by refraction into an elliptical form, may be looked at with the naked eye without inconvenience. In spite of the constant light, the common order of the parts of the day is plainly discernible. When the sun sinks down to the horizon, all nature is mute; but when, after a few hours, it rises in the skies, every thing awakens, the few little birds break out in feeble twitter, and the shrivelled flowers venture to open their petals. Although winter and summer are in reality the only seasons, yet the inhabitants fancy they have spring when about noon the rays of the sun begin to make themselves felt, which generally takes place about the middle of March, but this so-called spring has frequent night-frosts of twenty degrees. Their autumn is reckoned from the time when the rivers begin to freeze over, that is, from the first days of September, when a cold of thirty degrees is already by no means uncommon. As may easily be supposed in a climate like this, the vegetation of summer is scarcely more than a struggle for existence. In the latter end of May the stunted willow-bushes put out little wrinkled leaves, and those banks which slope towards the south become clothed with a semi-verdant hue; in June the temperature at noon attains 72°; the flowers show themselves, and the berry-bearing plants blossom, when sometimes an icy blast from the sea destroys the bloom. The air is clearest in July, and the temperature is usually mild, but then a new plague arises for the torment of man. Millions and millions of mosquitoes issue from the swamps of the tundra, and compel the inhabitants to seek refuge in the dense and pungent smoke of the “dymokury,” or large heaps of fallen leaves and damp wood, which are kindled near the dwellings and on the pasture-grounds, as the only means of keeping off those abominable insects. These tormentors, however, are not without use, for they compel the reindeer to migrate from the forests to the sea-shore and the ice, thus exposing them to the attack of the hunters, and they also prevent the horses from straying in the plains, and wandering beyond the protection of the smoke.