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THE SHADOW OF THE GLOOMY EAST

with a doctor, a friend of mine, in the Kola peninsula. We were travelling in the province of Olonetz, and before reaching the town of Petrozavodsk we had to stay the night in a large village a few miles from the town. We went to the local inn, the usual den, not too clean, damp, and pervaded with the fumes of alcohol.

After the evening meal, we retired into our room to load cartridges for our sporting guns, as we had expended our ammunition on the way.

We were just beginning operations when there was a cautious knock on the door. A pale, emaciated little fellow came in; he was dressed in a long black coat, like a monastic servant. But the face of the man glowed with its huge, burning, and piercing eyes.

I remember well the fear that crept upon me involuntarily under their gaze.

"What do you want?" asked the doctor, throwing a measure of powder into the husk without raising his eyes.

"I came to invoke the spirits for you," replied the visitor gravely.

The measure fell from my friend's fingers as he lifted his amazed look upon the newcomer.

"Spirits?" he asked, shrugging his shoulders.

"Yes, spirits," said our guest gently.

"Who are you?" asked the doctor again.

"I am a 'coldun,' a shaman!" was the indifferent reply. "I brought this science from the Tundra of