We set off early the next morning, and found the snow very troublesome. It was so thick upon the ground, that we were scarcely able to go on. We journeyed all the day though very thick woods of fir and birch trees. About half-way, and again farther on, we met two rivers, one of which was very small, and the other sixty yards wide; it is called the great Nikoulka. They are both formed by streams issuing from the mountains, and uniting at this place to pay their tribute together to the Kamtschatka. Neither of them was frozen, which I ascribed to the extreme rapidity of their current. The spot where we passed them was truly picturesque; but the most singular object was the numerous firs that skirted these rivers, and which seemed like so many trees of ice. A thick hoar-frost, occasioned perhaps by the dampness of the place, covered every branch, and gave to the whole a bright and chrystalline appearance.

At some distance from Tolbatchina we crossed a heath, from which I could perceive three volcanos; none of them threw up any flames, but merely clouds of very black smoke. The first, which I before mentioned in going to Machoure, has its reservoir in the bowels of a mountain that is not exactly of a conical shape, the summit being flattened and but little elevated. This volcano, I was informed, had been at rest for some time, and was supposed to be extinguished, but it had lately kindled again. North-east of this is a peak, the top of which appears to be the crater of a second volcano, which continually throws up smoke, though I could not perceive the smallest spark of fire. The third is north-north-east of the second; I could not observe it as I wished, a high mountain intercepting almost entirely my view. It derives its name from the village of Klutchefskaïa, near which it is situated; and I was told that we should pass closer to it hereafter. The two other volcanos are called in like manner after the ostrog of Tolbatchina, where we arrived in good time. This village is upon the Kamtschatka, forty-four wersts from Chapina, but it contains nothing extraordinary. We were informed that there had been a Kamtschadale wedding in the morning. I regretted the not having been present at this ceremony, which, as I was told, is nearly the same as in Russia. I saw the new married couple, who appeared to be two children. I asked their age. The bridegroom was but fourteen, and the bride only eleven. Such marriages would be considered as premature in any country except Asia.

I had an extreme desire to see the town of Nijenei-Kamtschatka, and had long thought how to satisfy it; to have left the peninsula without visiting the capital, I should have considered as an unpardonable fault. My curiosity did not interfere with my resolution of travelling with all possible expedition. I was obliged indeed to make a circuit, but it was not so far as to occasion a delay of any consequence. Having concerted with M. Kasloff, who was anxious to procure every thing that could render my journey agreeable and safe, I engaged to join him at the village of Yelofki, where the arrangement of some affairs of his government would detain him several days.

That I might lose less time, I took leave of him the evening of our arrival at Tolbatchina. But the roads were still worse than any we had yet met with. It was with the utmost difficulty I could reach Kosirefski by break of day, a village sixty-six wersts from Tolbatchina.

I made no stay, elated with having happily escaped all the dangers that beset me in so terrible a road, and in the darkness of the night[73]. I conceived that I had nothing to fear in the day, and proceeded with a kind of confidence for which I was soon punished. After having travelled a considerable number of wersts upon the Kamtschatka, which I had been delighted to find again, and the width of which in this place particularly struck me, I was obliged to quit it and enter a sort of strait, where the snow, driven by the hurricanes, presented an uneven and deceitful surface. It was impossible to see or avoid the rocks that surrounded me. I presently heard a crack that told me my sledge was damaged; it was in reality one of my skates broken in two. My guides assisted me in adjusting it in the best manner we could, and we had the good fortune to reach Ouchkoff without any other accident. It was midnight, and we travelled this day sixty-six wersts. My first care was to refit my sledge, which detained me till the next day.

There are in this village one isba, and eleven balagans; the number of inhabitants is reduced to five families, who are divided into three yourts. In the neighbourhood is a lake which abounds so much with fish, that all the villages round resort to it for their winter stock. It is also a considerable resource for the capital, which would otherwise be almost destitute of a provision of the first necessity throughout the peninsula.

I left Ouchkoff early in the morning, and at noon had travelled forty-four wersts, partly upon the Kamtschatka, and partly across extensive heaths. The first village I came to was Krestoff. It was a little larger than the preceding ostrog, but similar in other respects to what I had before seen. I only stayed to change my dogs. Hitherto I had pursued the road which M. Kasloff was to take to get to Yelofki; but instead of proceeding like him to Khartchina, I directed my course, upon coming out of Krestoff, towards the village of Klutchefskaïa, which is thirty wersts from it.

The weather, which, since our departure from Apatchin, had been very fine, though cold, changed all of a sudden in the afternoon. The sky became clouded, and the wind, which rose in the west, brought us a heavy snow. It extremely incommoded us, and prevented me from examining as I could have wished, the volcano of Klutchefskaïa, which I had seen at the same time with those of Tolbatchina. As far as I could judge, the mountain that carries it in its womb, is considerably higher than the other two. It continually throws up flames, which seem to ascend from the midst of the snow, with which the mountain is covered to its very summit.

Upon the approach of night I came to the village of Klutchefskaïa. The inhabitants are all Siberian peasants, from the neighbourhood of the Lena, and were sent about fifty years ago into this part of the peninsula to cultivate the land. The number of males, including men and children, scarcely exceed fifty. The small-pox attacked only those who had not before been affected with it; but it carried off more than one half of them. These labourers are less happy than those who live in the neighbourhood of Vercknei-Kamtschatka. The quantity and quality of their last harvest, both rye and barley, exceeded their hopes. These peasants have many horses belonging to them; in the mean time there are some which are the property of government.

This ostrog is tolerably large, and appears the more so from being divided into two parts, about four hundred yards from each other. It extends principally from east to west. To the eastward is situated the church, which is built of wood, and in the Russian taste. The majority of houses are better constructed, and are more clean, than any I have yet seen. There are also some considerable magazines. The number of balagans is small, and they are very unlike those of the Kamtschadales; their form is oblong, and their roof, which has the same declivity as ours, rests upon posts, which support it in the air.