Shortly after our arrival the guide returned, who had accompanied the soldier sent out six days before to Kaminoi to procure us succour. He informed us that our messenger was reduced to the last extremity, and considered himself as fortunate in having found, twelve wersts to the north of Pousteretsk, a miserable deserted yourt, where he had sheltered himself from the tempests, which had misled him no less than ten times. The provision we had given him for himself and his dogs was all consumed, and he waited impatiently till he should be relieved from his embarassment, without which it was impossible for him to come out of his asylum, either for the purpose of executing his commission, or of returning back to us. M. Kasloff, far from being cast down by this new disappointment, animated our courage by communicating to us the last expedients he had resolved to employ. He had already, upon the intelligence of a whale being driven on shore near Potkagornoï, dispatched an express to that village. The utmost expedition was recommended, and he was to bring as much of the flesh and fat of the whale as he could. This resource however being uncertain, M. Kasloff proposed that we should sacrifice the small quantity of provision which each of us had intended to reserve for the support of his own dogs. This contribution was for sergeant Kabechoff, who had offered to go to Kaminoi. In the distress in which we were, the most feeble ray of hope was sufficient to induce us to risk our all. We embraced therefore the proposal with transport, confiding in the zeal and ability of this sergeant. He departed at 10, minutely instructed upon the subject of his journey, and carrying with him the whole of our provisions. In his way he was to take up our poor soldier, and from thence proceed to fulfil the commission in which he had failed. Having taken all these precautions, we exhorted one another to patience, and endeavoured to divert our anxiety by waiting till it should please providence to deliver us. I shall employ this time in giving an account of the observations I made at Poustaretsk. This hamlet is situated upon the declivity of a mountain washed by the sea; for we cannot call a river[83], what is nothing more than a very narrow gulf, which reaches as far as the foot of this mountain. The water is salt, and not drinkable; we were obliged therefore to have recourse to melted snow, which was the only fresh water we could procure. Two yourts, inhabited by about fifteen persons, make up the whole hamlet. I mean to include a few balagans that are occupied in summer, and situated farther from the shore.