So Yamaul had been kind enough to appear in the tshum to oblige his favourite. Then the individual sentences of the heavenly message, with the invariable prelude of drumming and song, were uttered as follows:—
“Once again, next summer, you will traverse the same route as this year.”
“Then you will visit the summit of the Ural, where the rivers Ussa, Bodarata, and Shtchutshya begin their course.”
“On this journey something will befall you, whether good or evil I cannot tell.”
“Nothing is to be achieved at the Bodarata, for wood and pasture are lacking; here something might be accomplished.”
“You will have to render an account to your superiors; they will examine you and will be satisfied.”
“You will also have to answer to the three elders of your tribe; they also will examine your writings, and then come to a decision about the new journey.”
“The course of your journey will henceforward be happy and without accident; and you will find your loved ones at home in the best of health.”
“If the statements of the Russians who are still at Bodarata corroborate yours, two emperors will reward you.”
“I see no other face.”