But not a boat was to be seen, either on the left or the right bank, or on the islets. All had been taken away or destroyed, according to order. Unless the Tartars should bring with them, from the south, the materials for building a bridge of boats, their march towards Irkutsk would certainly be stopped for some time by this barrier, the Yenisey.
“I remember,” said Michael, “that higher up, on the outskirts of Krasnoyarsk, there is a little quay. There the boats touch. Friend, let us go up the river, and see if some boat has not been forgotten on the bank.”
Nadia seized Michael’s hand and started off at a rapid pace in the direction indicated. If only a boat or a barge large enough to hold the kibitka could be found, or even one that would carry just themselves, Michael would not hesitate to attempt the passage!
Twenty minutes after, all three had reached the little quay, with houses on each side quite down to the water’s edge. It was like a village standing beyond the town of Krasnoyarsk.
But not a boat was on the shore, not a barge at the little wharf, nothing even of which a raft could be made large enough to carry three people.
Michael questioned Nicholas, and the latter made the discouraging reply that the crossing of the river appeared to him absolutely impracticable.
“We shall cross!” answered Michael.
The search was continued. They examined the houses on the shore, abandoned like all the rest of Krasnoyarsk. They had merely to push open the doors and enter. The cottages were evidently those of poor people, and quite empty. Nicholas visited one, Nadia entered another, and even Michael went here and there and felt about, hoping to light upon some article that might be useful.
Nicholas and the girl had each fruitlessly rummaged these cottages and were about to give up the search, when they heard themselves called.
Both ran to the bank and saw Michael standing on the threshold of a door.
“Come!” he exclaimed.
Nicholas and Nadia went towards him and followed him into the cottage.
“What are these?” asked Michael, touching several objects piled up in a corner.
“They are leathern bottles,” answered Nicholas, “and not less than half a dozen of them!”
“Are they full? …”
“Yes, full of koumiss. We have found them very opportunely to renew our provisions!”
Koumiss is a drink made of mare’s or camel’s milk, and is very sustaining, and even intoxicating; so that Nicholas and his companions could not but congratulate themselves on the discovery.
“Put one aside,” said Michael, “but empty all the others.”
“Directly, little father.”
“These will help us to cross the Yenisey.”
“And the raft?”
“Will be the kibitka itself, which is light enough to float. Besides, we will sustain it, as well as the horse, with these bottles.”
“Well thought of, little father,” exclaimed Nicholas, “and by God’s help we will get safely over … though perhaps not in a straight line, for the current is very rapid!”
“What does that matter?” replied Michael. “Let us get across first, and we shall soon find out the road to Irkutsk on the other side of the river.”
“To work, then,” said Nicholas, beginning to empty the bottles and carry them to the kibitka.
One full of koumiss was reserved, and the rest, with the air carefully fastened up, being previously filled with air, were used to form a floating apparatus. Two bottles were fastened to the horse’s sides to support it in the water. Two others were attached to the shafts to keep them on a level with the body of the machine, thus transformed into a raft.
This work was soon finished.
“You will not be afraid, Nadia?” asked Michael.
“No, brother,” answered the girl.
“And you, friend?”
“I?” cried Nicholas. “I am now going to have one of my dreams realized—that of sailing in a cart.”
At the spot where they were now standing, the bank sloped, and was suitable for the launching of the kibitka. The horse drew it into the water, and they were soon both floating. As to Serko, he was swimming bravely.
The three passengers, seated in the vehicle, had with due precaution taken off their shoes and stockings; but, thanks to the bottles, the water did not even come over their ankles. Michael held the reins, and, according to Nicholas’s directions, guided the animal obliquely, but cautiously, so as not to exhaust him by struggling against the current. So long as the kibitka went with the current all was easy, and in a few minutes it had passed the quays of Krasnoyarsk. It drifted northwards, and it was soon evident that it would only reach the opposite bank far below the town. But that mattered little. The crossing would have been made without great difficulty, even on this imperfect apparatus, had the current been regular; but, unfortunately, there were whirlpools in numbers, and soon the kibitka, notwithstanding all Michael’s efforts, was irresistibly drawn into one of these tumultuous spots.
There the danger was great. The kibitka no longer drifted, but spun rapidly round, inclining towards the center of the eddy, like a rider in a circus. The horse could scarcely keep his head above water, and ran a great risk of being suffocated. Serko had been obliged to take refuge in the carriage.
Michael knew what was happening. He felt himself drawn round in a gradually narrowing line, from which they could not get free. How he longed to see, to be better able to avoid this peril … but that was no longer possible.
Nadia was silent, her hands clinging to the sides of the cart, supporting her in the jerks of the machine, which
