"As soon as we could after hearing the noise of them, we got up into two trees. It took us some time to discover two that were fit for our purpose, and we did not get them so near each other as we should have liked. It was rather anxious work too until we found them, for if we encountered on foot a pack of those demons, we could be but a moment or two alive: killing one, ten would be upon us, and a hundred more on the backs of those. But we hoped they would smell us up in the trees, and search for us, when we should be able to give account of a few of them at least: we had double-barrelled guns, and plenty of powder and ball." "But how could you endure the cold--at night--and without food?" "No, mother; we did not try that! We had plenty to eat in our pockets. My companion had a bottle of vodki, and--" "What is that?" asked the mother with suspicion. "A sort of raw spirit--horrible stuff--more like spirits of wine. They say it does not hurt in such cold." "But, Ian!" cried the mother, and seemed unable to say more. "Don't be frightened, mother!" said Ian, with a merry laugh. "Surely you do not imagine _I_ would drink such stuff! True, I had my bottle, but it was full of tea. The Russians drink enormous quantities of tea--though not so strong as you make it." "Go on, then, Ian; go on." "We sat a long time, and there was no sign of the wolves coming near us. It was very cold, but our furs kept in our warmth. By and by I fell asleep--which was not dangerous so long as I kept warm, and I thought the cold must wake me before it began to numb me. And as 'I slept I dreamed; but my dream did not change the place; the forest, the tree I was in, all my surroundings were the same. I even dreamed that I came awake, and saw everything about me just as it was. I seemed to open my eyes, and look about me on the dazzling snow from my perch: I was in a small tree on the border of a little clearing.