We set off early the next morning, and found the snow very troublesome. It was so thick upon the ground, that we were scarcely able to go on. We journeyed all the day though very thick woods of fir and birch trees. About half-way, and again farther on, we met two rivers, one of which was very small, and the other sixty yards wide; it is called the great Nikoulka. They are both formed by streams issuing from the mountains, and uniting at this place to pay their tribute together to the Kamtschatka. Neither of them was frozen, which I ascribed to the extreme rapidity of their current. The spot where we passed them was truly picturesque; but the most singular object was the numerous firs that skirted these rivers, and which seemed like so many trees of ice. A thick hoar-frost, occasioned perhaps by the dampness of the place, covered every branch, and gave to the whole a bright and chrystalline appearance. At some distance from Tolbatchina we crossed a heath, from which I could perceive three volcanos; none of them threw up any flames, but merely clouds of very black smoke. The first, which I before mentioned in going to Machoure, has its reservoir in the bowels of a mountain that is not exactly of a conical shape, the summit being flattened and but little elevated. This volcano, I was informed, had been at rest for some time, and was supposed to be extinguished, but it had lately kindled again. North-east of this is a peak, the top of which appears to be the crater of a second volcano, which continually throws up smoke, though I could not perceive the smallest spark of fire. The third is north-north-east of the second; I could not observe it as I wished, a high mountain intercepting almost entirely my view. It derives its name from the village of Klutchefskaïa, near which it is situated; and I was told that we should pass closer to it hereafter. The two other volcanos are called in like manner after the ostrog of Tolbatchina, where we arrived in good time. This village is upon the Kamtschatka, forty-four wersts from Chapina, but it contains nothing extraordinary. We were informed that there had been a Kamtschadale wedding in the morning. I regretted the not having been present at this ceremony, which, as I was told, is nearly the same as in Russia. I saw the new married couple, who appeared to be two children. I asked their age. The bridegroom was but fourteen, and the bride only eleven. Such marriages would be considered as premature in any country except Asia.