Page:Siberia and the Exile System Vol 1.djvu/70

48 on Mr. Frost's big trunk, and gave the signal for a start. Our gray-bearded driver gathered up his four reins of

weather-beaten rope, shouted "Nu rodníya!" [Now, then, my relatives!] and with a measured jangle, jangle, jangle, of two large bells lashed to the arch over the shaft-horse's back we rode away through the wide unpaved streets of