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I passed the short Siberian day strolling about, near the sledge, now sitting down on it, then again rising, when the cold overcame the unbearable tortures of hunger. Of course, I only walked slowly, as I had not much strength left, and also because one sooner gets tired from rapid motion, and then one feels the cold more.

Wandering about near the spot where my savage had deserted me, several times I approached the tree on which he had pointed out the broken twig. I examined it carefully and was the more convinced that it was only a twig that had been torn from another tree, and blown there by the wind.

“He has cheated me,” I said to myself. “He has cheated me, and it can’t be counted as a sin. Why should he perish with me when it could do me no good.”

Need I tell you how hard and terribly long the short winter day appeared to me? I did not believe in any possibility of salvation, and awaited death, but where was it? Why did it delay? And when would it come? What tortures would I have to endure before it caressed me and soothed my sufferings?… Soon I began to observe that from time to time my sight failed me. Suddenly all the objects before me seemed to flow together and disappear into a kind of grey darkness, then suddenly and unexpectedly they would become clear again… I thought this was caused simply by fatigue, but I do not know what part the changes of the light played in it; whenever the light changed slightly, things became visible again, and even very distinctly visible, and I could see very far and then again they became misty. The sun that showed itself for an hour behind the distant hillocks shed a wonderful pink light on the snow, that covered these mounds; this occurs before evening, then the sun suddenly disappears and the rose-coloured light changes to an exquisite blue. It was so now: everything near and around me turned blue, as if sprinkled with sapphire dust, wherever there was a rut, or the mark of a footstep, or even where a stick, had been stuck into the snow, a bluish mist curled in clouds, and after a short time this play of light was also extinguished: the wilderness, as if covered with an overturned bowl, became dark and then… grew grey. With this last change, when the wonderful blue colour disappeared, and momentary gloom spread over everything, the marvellous tricks of the wilderness began to show themselves, before my tired eyes, in the grey darkness. Every object assumed extraordinary and huge proportions and outlines; our little sledge looked like the hull of a ship, the frost-covered carcass of the dead dog looked like a sleeping white bear; while the trees appeared to have come to life and were moving about from place to place… All this was so life-like and interesting, that notwithstanding my sad position, I would have been ready to examine it with curiosity if a strange occurrence had not frightened me away from my observations and awakened in me a new fear, arousing at the same time the instinct of self-preservation. I saw, in the twilight, something flitting in the distance, like a dark arrow, then another, and a third, and immediately after the air was filled with a long doleful howl.

In an instant I understood that it must be either wolves or our liberated dogs, who had probably found nothing to eat, not being able to catch any animal, and, quite exhausted by hunger, had remembered their dead friend, and wanted to profit by his body. In any case, if they were either famished dogs or wolves, they were not likely to give any quarter to my worshipful self, and although reason told me it would be better to be torn to pieces in a moment, than to have to suffer the long agonies of hunger, the instinct of self-preservation took the upper hand and notwithstanding my heavy clothes, I was able to climb to the very top of the tree, with the agility and quickness of a squirrel, that, I must confess, I did not know I possessed, nor had ever dreamed of, and only stopped when I could go no higher. Below me an immensity of snow was spread out, and above me a dark sky like thin scum, on which out of the distant impenetrable gloom, the rayless stars shone with a reddish light. While I was casting my eyes around, down below, almost at the roots of my tree, a fierce fight took place. There were groans and howls, tearing and struggling, once more groans, and then silent flittings through the darkness in different directions, and again all was quiet, as if nothing had occurred. Such undisturbed silence succeeded that I could hear the beatings of the pulses in my body and my breathing appeared to make a noise like the rustling of hay, and when I breathed heavily, it was like an electric spark, that quietly crackled in the unbearably rarefied frosty air; it was so dry and cold, that even the hairs of my beard were frozen, and pricked like wire and broke to the touch. I even now feel a chill go through me at the remembrance, which my frost-bitten legs help to keep alive ever since that time. It may have been a little warmer below, perhaps not, but in any case I was not sure, that the attack of the beasts of prey would not be repeated, and decided not to descend from the tree till morning. It was not more terrible than to be buried under the snow with my malodorous companion, and on the whole what could be more terrible than my present position? I just chose a widely spreading bough and sank down on it as in a fairly comfortable arm chair, in such a way that even if I had dozed, I should not have fallen off; but for greater security I put my arms firmly round a branch, and then stuck them deeper into the pockets of my fur coat. The position was well chosen and well constructed. I sat there like a frozen old owl, which I probably resembled in reality. My watch had long since stopped, but from my position I had an admirable view of Orion and the Pleiades – those heavenly clocks, by which I could now calculate the hours of my torture. I occupied myself with this: at first I calculated the exact time, and then I looked long, very long at these strange stars shining on a black sky, until they grew fainter, changed from gold to copper, and at last became quite dim and were extinguished.

The morning approached, equally grey and joyless. My watch, that I had set by the position of the Pleiades, showed it was nine o’clock. My hunger increased and tormented me past all belief. I no longer felt the oppressive scent of viands, nor the recollection of the taste of food. I only had a hungry pain. My empty stomach was dried up, twisted like a cord, and caused me the most unbearable sufferings.

Without any hope of finding something eatable, I climbed down the tree and began to wander about. At one place I picked up from the snow a fir cone. I thought at first it might be a cedar cone, and would contain nuts, but it proved to be a simple fir cone. I broke it, found a seed, which I swallowed, but the resinous smell was so unpleasant that my empty stomach refused to receive it, and my pains were only increased. At this time I noticed that all round our abandoned sledge there were numberless fresh tracks going in all directions, and that our dead dog had disappeared.

My corpse would evidently be the next to go, and the same wolves would prey on it and divide it among themselves in the same way. But when would it be? Was it possible in another day? It might even be more. No! I remembered one fanatical faster, who starved himself for the honour of Christ. He had the courage to note the days of his anguish and counted nine… How terrible! But he fasted in the warmth, while I was exposed to the bitterest cold – of course that must make a difference. My strength had quite deserted me – I could no longer warm myself by motion, and sat down on the edge of the sledge. Even the consciousness of my fate seemed to abandon me. On my eyelids I felt the shadow of death, and was only troubled it was so long in leading me away to the path from which there was no returning. You must understand how earnestly I wished to depart from this frozen wilderness to the house of reunion of all mortals, and in no way regretted, that I would have to make my bed here in this frozen darkness. The chain of my thoughts was severed, the pitcher was broken, and the wheel had fallen into the well. Neither in my thoughts nor in the most ordinary form of words could I turn towards heaven. I was unable to draw comfort in any way, in any form. I realized this and sighed.

Our Father! I cannot offer Thee, even penance for my sins, but Thou Thyself hast removed my light from its place. Thou wilt answer for me before Thyself.

This was the only prayer I was able to summon to my mind, after that I can remember nothing, nor how that day passed away. I can but affirm with certainty, it was the same as the previous one. It only appeared to me, I saw during that day, somewhere far away from me, two living creatures, and they looked like some sort of birds; they seemed to be of the size of magpies and in appearance they resembled magpies, but with dirty rough feathers like owls. Just before sunset they flew down from the trees, walked about on the snow, and flew away again. But perhaps I only imagined this in my hallucinations before death; in any case it appeared to me so vividly, that I followed their flight with my eyes, and saw them disappear in the distance as if they had melted away. My tired eyes having reached this point, rested there and became fixed. But what do you think? Suddenly I began to notice in this direction a strange spot, that I think had not been there before. Then it seemed to move – though the movement was so imperceptible that it could only be distinguished by the inner sense rather than by the eyes, yet I was certain that it moved.

The hope of being saved stirred within me, and all my sufferings were not able to silence or stifle it. The spot continued to grow, and became more distinct, and was more clearly visible on that wonderful faintly pink background. Was it a mirage? – which was so likely in this desolate place, in such capricious light – or was it really something alive that was hurrying towards me? In any case it was flying straight towards me, and it was really not walking but flying. At last I saw its outlines; I could distinguish its figure; I could see its legs – I saw how they stretched out one after the other… and immediately after I fell rapidly from joy into despair. Yes: this was no mirage – I saw it too clearly – but it was also no man, nor was it a wild beast. On the whole earth there was no creature made of flesh and blood, that resembled this enchanted, fantastic apparition, approaching towards me as if it were condensing, forming, or, as our modern spiritualists say – materializing out of the playful tints of the frozen air. Either my sight and my imagination were deceiving me, or could it be a spirit? What spirit? Who are you?

Can it be Father Kiriak, hastening to meet me from the Kingdom of the dead?… But perhaps we were both already there… is it possible I have already finished crossing the bar… How wonderful! How curious this spirit is, it is my co-inhabitant in this new life. I will describe him to you as well as I can: a gigantic winged figure floated towards me, clad from head to heels in a chiton of silver brocade, which sparkled all over; on its head it had a head-dress that seemed to be seven feet high and glittered as if it were covered all over with diamonds, or, more precisely, as if it were a whole diamond mitre… It was like a richly ornamented Indian idol, and to complete this resemblance with an idol and its fantastic appearance, from under the feet of my wonderful visitor sparks of silver dust spurted out on all sides, and he seemed to float upon them as on a light cloud, looking at the very least like the legendary Hermes.

While I was examining him he – this wonderful spirit – came nearer and nearer and at last was quite close to me, a moment more and he had covered me with snow dust, stuck his fairy wand into the snow and exclaimed:

“How do you do, Bachka?”

I could not believe either my eyes or my ears; this wonderful spirit was, of course, my savage. Now it was no longer possible to make a mistake: the same snow-shoes were under his feet, on which he had run away – on his back he had others; before me, stuck in the snow, was his long staff, and in his arms there was a whole bear’s ham, fur and all, with its paw and claws. But in what was he clad – how was he transfigured?

Without waiting for any reply to his greeting, he thrust this bear’s meat into my face and roared:

“Grub, Bachka,” and he himself sat down on the snow and began to take off his snow-shoes.