We called at many little villages or larger towns on the way down the river. The banks of the river and the plains beyond teem with people. It was no lonely prairie that we gazed upon as we floated idly. The millions of dead fish in the river were symbolic of the country’s past state and present suffering, and of its fearful fate if left too long without substantial help. Nobody could tell us authentically why those fish had died. Could the cholera germ have worked this miracle of death? Or was it Koltchak’s poison gas? Their numbers made them remarkable. Our talks with the peasant men and women revealed the fact that they were not Communists in the Marxian sense, scarcely Communist in any sense. They were content not to quarrel with the Government because it was so much better than the régime of Koltchak, whom they hated; and because of the war. They grumbled at the requisitions of food, and hated the soldiers sent to collect it. But they were amenable to persuasion. One friend of the peasants, a Communist, told me that he was sent by the Government to talk to the peasants, because he was so successful in persuading them to give up their spare produce. He was a man of quiet and gentle manner whom it would be difficult at all times to resist. The peasants we saw were a big, blond, stalwart race, with any quantity of shaggy, curly hair and with matted beards. Their features were Slav. They had large mouths, thick lips and broad noses. They wore high boots, much the worse for wear, and smocks with broad belts. Their women were big for the most part, pleasant and round-faced, and their legs were bound in what looked like white canvas which gave them a tubular appearance. They wore canvas or felt shoes, very inadequate for country roads. Their aprons and blouses were amazingly white in one village, which gave one the impression that there they probably made their own soap. The children were attractive replica of their parents. One small boy showed us proudly that he could write his own name in a good hand. Whenever we left the ship, we did so between two lines of peasants with country produce for sale, eggs, milk and fruit; so there was no lack of food on this river trip. We talked to the peasants about the land. They were happier than before for they had now more land, and all had some. The big estates had been broken up and divided amongst them. Nominally it was the State’s land, but it would have been counter-revolutionary propaganda to have said this aloud. Really there is a system of peasant proprietorship, with the substantial difference that the peasant may not part with his land for money. If he works it well, it remains undisturbed in his possession and usually it goes to the son after the father. The local Soviet settles land disputes, and we were the interested spectators in the adjudication of one quarrel.