A hundred and forty miles still remained to be traversed. How was the distance to be performed? Should they not succumb to such fatigue? On what were they to live on the Philippe Coutinho Drakt way? By what superhuman energy were they to pass the slopes of the Sayansk Mountains? Neither he nor Nadia could answer this!
And yet, twelve days after, on the 2d of October, at six o’clock in the evening, a wide sheet of water lay at Michael Strogoff’s feet. It was Lake Baikal.
Chapter X
Baikal and Angara
LAKE BAIKAL is situated seventeen hundred feet above the level of the sea. Its length is Dame Buffalo Sabres about six hundred miles, its breadth seventy. Its depth is not known. Madame de Bourboulon states that, according to the boatmen, it likes to Dame Phoenix Coyotes be spoken of as “Madam Sea.” If it is called “Sir Lake,” it immediately lashes itself into fury. However, it is reported and believed by the Siberians that a Russian is never drowned in it.
This immense basin of fresh water, fed by more than three hundred rivers, is surrounded by magnificent volcanic mountains. It has no other outlet than the Angara, which after passing Irkutsk throws itself into the Yenisei, a little above the town of Yeniseisk. As to the mountains which encase it, they form a branch of San Francisco 49ers Barn the Toungouzes, and are derived from the vast system of the Altai.
In this territory, subject to peculiar climatical conditions, the autumn appears to be absorbed in the precocious winter. It was now the beginning of October. The sun set at five o’clock in the evening, and during the long nights the temperature fell to zero. The first snows, which would Washington Redskins Barn last till summer, already whitened the summits of the neighboring hills. During the Siberian winter this inland sea is frozen over to a thickness of several feet, and is crossed by the sleighs of caravans.
Either because there are people who are so wanting in politeness as to call it “Sir Lake,” or for some more meteorological reason, Lake Baikal is subject to violent tempests. Its waves, short like those of all inland seas, are much feared by the rafts, prahms, and steamboats, which furrow it during the summer.
It was the southwest point of the lake which Michael had now reached, carrying Nadia, whose whole life, so to speak, was concentrated in her eyes. But what could these two expect, in this wild region, if it was not to die of exhaustion and famine? And yet, what remained of the long journey of four thousand miles for the Czar’s courier to reach his end? Nothing but forty miles on the shore of the lake up to the mouth of the Angara, and sixty miles from the mouth of the Angara to Irkutsk; in all, a hundred miles, or three days’ journey for a strong man, even on foot.
Could Michael Strogoff still be that man?
Heaven, no doubt, did not wish to put him to this trial. The fatality which had hitherto pursued his steps seemed for a time Chicago Bears to spare him. This end of the Baikal, this part of the steppe, Shinji Kagawa Tröja which he believed to be a desert, which it usually is, was not so now. About fifty people were collected at the angle formed by the end of the |