The fugitives crouched thus for twenty minutes or more. Then, as the boat could ill spare their attention, and was being driven dangerously among the ice floes, the two men seized the boathooks and stood up.
The Cossacks and the open country had both disappeared. Dark, gloomy hills encircled the river as far as the eye could reach.
Sandoff noted with satisfaction that the snow was still falling thickly.
“If we can reach the hut that you speak of,” he said to Vera, “we shall be quite safe as far as pursuit is concerned. The cold is our greatest enemy now.”
“We must fight it off,” replied the girl. “Even with this swift current we cannot reach the hut before tomorrow afternoon, for it lies very near the point where the Shilka and the Amur River meet.”
“How shall we know the place, Vera?” asked her brother.
For answer she produced a tiny scrap of paper covered with close writing. While Shamarin held a lighted match over her shoulder, she read the contents aloud:
You will pass a small island in the center of the river, on the crest of which grow four big pine trees. Just below this island, on the left bank of the river, is a narrow ravine among thickly wooded hills. Pursue this for a quarter of a mile, and you will find the hut on your right. It lies among rocks and pine trees.
“That has a cheerful and definite ring to it,” remarked Sandoff. “It is a pleasant prospect to look forward to—a sheltered hut among the hills, and in a wild and desolate spot, where the Cossacks will never think of looking for us.”
“Yes, that is true,” said Shamarin. “The valley of the Shilka is a lonely region. If we find this hut, we can safely remain there for some weeks. If we run short of food, there is game in the forest.”