Whether or not it was from this way of driving, which requires the iemschiks to possess strong throats more than muscular arms, the tarantass flew along at a rate of from twelve to fourteen miles an hour. Michael Strogoff was accustomed both to the sort of vehicle and the mode of traveling. Neither jerks nor jolts incommoded him. He knew that a Russian driver never even tries to avoid either stones, ruts, bogs, fallen trees, or trenches, which may happen to be in the road. He was used to all that. His companion ran a risk of being hurt by the violent jolts of the tarantass, but she would not complain.
For a little while Nadia did not speak. Then possessed with the one thought, that of reaching her journey’s end, “I have calculated that there are three hundred versts between Perm and Ekaterenburg, brother,” said she. “Am I right?”
“You are quite right, Nadia,” answered Michael; “and when we have reached Ekaterenburg, we shall be at the foot of the Ural Mountains on the opposite side.”
“How long will it take to get across the mountains?”
“Forty-eight hours, for we shall travel day and night. I say day and night, Nadia,” added he, “for I cannot stop even for a moment; I go on without rest to Irkutsk.”
“I shall not delay you, brother; no, not even for an hour, and we will travel day and night.”
“Well then, Nadia, if the Tartar invasion has only left the road open, we shall arrive in twenty days.”
“You have made this journey before?” asked Nadia.
“Many times.”
“During winter we should have gone more rapidly and surely, should we not?”