“It’s simply fierce that we’ve got to tote these things.” And Raymond kicked the blankets vindictively. “And what are we going to do with the plunder that came out of the saddlebags?” The saddlebags had not contained very much,--only the few things that Sidney had carried in his handbag when they arrived at Nizhni-Novgorod: a suit of pajamas for each of them, socks, handkerchiefs, brush and comb, and their toothbrushes. Those few things, however, added to their blankets and cloaks, seemed to Raymond to be the culminating straw. “We _must_ hang on to those pajamas,” continued Raymond; “they’ll be great when we make our bed toilets on cold nights under the lee side of a rock.” “I’ll tell you what they will be great for, Ray, and that is to put on under our other clothes when the weather does get cold.” “Well, I suppose we’d better take them along,” said Raymond grudgingly; “and we may as well start.” The small articles the boys crowded into their pockets, and each made a long roll of his blankets and cloak, and carried it over one shoulder, tying the ends together under the opposite arm. In that way the bundle rode well, with very little inconvenience to the traveler. When their packs were arranged the boys started out, and passing through a small ravine, on emerging into a broader valley, they were cheered to observe the town which was the goal of their day’s journey. For the capital of a large province like Daghestan, Timour Khan Shoura appeared very insignificant, and when they reached the inn, they found it to be primitive in the extreme. Sidney presented their passport to the landlord, who seemed properly impressed, though it was plain that he could not read it. The news of their arrival must have been spread very promptly, for immediately there appeared men of all sorts and conditions, who apparently came solely to view the travelers. In this crowd was the chief of police, to whom the passport was turned over, and who seemed to consider it satisfactory. He read the paper aloud, and its effect on the assemblage was great. There was instantly a Babel of talk, and the boys were familiar enough with the sound of Russian to know that a large part of the conversation was in some other language. The chief of police asked them a long string of questions of which they understood only an occasional word. Sidney assumed, however, that the official was asking who they were, where they came from, and where they were going, so he politely imparted that information, to Raymond’s great amusement. “See how wise the old owl looks, Sid, and I’ll wager he doesn’t understand a word you say.” “I hope he doesn’t understand a word you say. You ought to be careful, Ray; we may sometime run up against a man who does understand English.” “I’d like to meet him now; his voice would sound good.”