The wind varied considerably during my residence at Bolcheretsk; it was most commonly west, north-west, or north-east; it blew sometimes from the south, but seldom from the east. The south and west winds are almost invariably attended with snow. Scarcely a week passed, even to the month of January, without our experiencing two or three violent tempests; they commonly proceeded from the north-west. These gales of wind lasted always a day or two, and sometimes seven or eight days. It would have been the height of imprudence to venture out at such a season. The sky was completely obscured, and the snow, supported by these whirlwinds, formed in the air a thick fog, that prevented us from seeing at the distance of six yards. Woe to all travellers who are exposed to this terrible weather! necessity compels them to stop, or they run the risk of losing themselves, or of falling every moment into some abyss; for how is it possible they should find their way, or advance a step, when they have to resist the impetuosity of the wind, and to disengage themselves from the heaps of snow that suddenly encompass them? If such be the dangers encountered by the men, what must we suppose the poor dogs to suffer. Nothing is more common, when overtaken by these hurricanes, than to find ourselves separated from the sledges of our companions, to the distance of two wersts or upwards from each other, and proceeding in an opposite direction[62].
The frequency of these tempests, and the deplorable accidents they occasion, convinced us of the necessity of deferring our departure. M. Kasloff was equally as impatient to arrive at the place of his destination, as I was to continue my journey, that I might execute my commission with the diligence that had been recommended to me; but every one whose advice we asked, condemned our eagerness, and proved particularly as to myself, that, entrusted with such important dispatches, it would be rashness to proceed. This reflection pacified me. M. Kasloff anticipated my wishes, by giving me a certificate, accounting for my long residence at Bolcheretsk, by a relation of the circumstances that had occasioned it. The gales of wind having at length ceased towards the middle of January, we eagerly set about preparing for our departure, which was fixed for the 27 of that month.
We furnished ourselves in the best manner we could with brandy, beef, rye, flour, and oatmeal. A considerable quantity of loaves were prepared for us, of which we reserved some to supply us during the first few days of our journey, and the rest were cut into thin slices and baked in an oven like biscuits: what was left of our flour, we put into sacks as a resource in time of need.
M. Kasloff had ordered that as many dogs as possible should be collected. Multitudes were presently brought from all the neighbouring ostrogs; we had also provision for them in abundance, the only difficulty was how we should carry it. We had resolved to set off early in the morning of 27; but when we came to load our sledges, we found our baggage so considerable, that, in spite of the number of hands employed, it was not completed till the evening. We were out of humour; no day in my life ever appeared so tedious. Vexed at the delay, we would not defer our departure till the next day, and were no sooner informed that every thing was ready, than we ran to our sledges and were out of Bolcheretsk in a moment.
We started at seven o'clock. It was moonlight, and the snow added to its brightness. Our departure merits a description. Conceive of our numerous cavalcade amounting to thirty-five sledges[63]. In the first was a sergeant of the name of Kabechoff, who was appointed to superintend and direct our procession. He gave the signal, and instantly all these sledges set off in file. They were drawn by three hundred dogs[64] of equal courage and speed. Presently the line was broken, the order disturbed, and all was confusion. A spirited emulation animated the conductors, and it became as it were a chariot race. It was who should drive fastest; no one was willing to be outstripped; the dogs themselves could not bear this affront; they partook the rivalship of their masters, fought with one another to obtain the precedence, and the sledges were overturned, frequently at the risk of being dashed to pieces. The clamour of those who were overturned, the yelping of the struggling dogs, the mixed cry of those that proceeded, and the confused and continual chattering of the guides, compleated the disorder, and prevented us both from knowing and hearing one another.
To enjoy this tumult the more at my ease, I quitted my sledge where I was imprisoned, and placed myself in a smaller one, in which, beside the pleasure of driving myself, I could see what was passing around me. Fortunately no accident happened, and I had no reason to repent of my curiosity. This embarassment was chiefly occasioned by the concourse of the inhabitants of Bolcheretsk, who, from attachment as well as respect, were desirous of accompanying M. Kasloff to Apatchin[65], where we arrived about midnight: the distance of Bolcheretsk from this ostrog is forty-four wersts.
A few moments after our arrival a tempestuous wind arose, which would greatly have incommoded us, if it had happened during our route. It continued the rest of the night and all the next day, which we were obliged therefore to spend at Apatchin.