In summer and in good weather their course of hfe is as follows : — At two or three in the morning, as soon as the cock crows, — who is an invariable occupant of the leading waggon, serving at the same time as clock and weather-prophet, — the Tshumaks prepare for departure, catch the oxen which have been set at liberty to graze during the night, harness them once more, and plod away for eight or nine hours in a very leisurely manner, tdl they come to a spot where there is good water and pasture. Some of the men then set the cattle free again, whilst others occupy themselves in making a fire, collecting for this purpose, like the leaders of caravans in Africa, dung dried in the sun, hay and straw, or the small fragments of broken wheels, carefully put aside for this purpose. The fire soon crackles as memly under the kettle as in the woody regions of Poland, and the millet porridge, or borsht, (the only dishes ever served upon their tables, whether at breakfast, dinner, or supper.) is quickly warmed. Their sound and unsophisticated teeth successfidly attack the hard, coarse bread, called sukhari, which they bring with them from home, and, as soon as their rude meal is ended, they set out again upon their journey. In the afternoon the oxen are again allowed a short rest, and the third and last halt is made at sunset. They then form their waggons into a regular parallelogram upon the broad road, generally eight or ten long, and five or six broad, with room enough to pass conveniently and mend whatever is broken or out of order. The social fire once more flames up, the " sukhari " are once more crunched, the broth is drunk, and then they all lie down to the sound of a melancholy night song, in a minor key, which dies away on the echoless steppe as the Tshumaks fall asleep on the grass. At sunrise again the crowing of the cock sets all in motion, to recommence the neverchanging routine of the day.
It is singular that in rainy weather the skins of the oxen become sore in drawing, so that the caravans cannot proceed, but are obliged to wait quietly till the rain is over. In this way then' business is sometimes interrupted for several days. The regular, and comparatively wealthy Tshumaks oidy travel from Easter to October, as after that period the violent snow-storms render the journeys very hazardous. Throughout the whole of Southern Russia the summer is the principal time for trade and commercial intercourse. In the north, exactly the contrary takes place ; for, throughout the lands bordering on the Baltic ports, the most important trade is carried on in the winter, along the fine paths formed by the hard snow.
The poorer Tshumaks, who are compelled to risk the accidents of winter journeys, have a much harder life, and often perish on the road. I myself, whilst travelling in the Ukraine, shortly after the melting of the snow, saw, dug out of a ravine, several broken sledges, and the remains of oxen and Tshumaks, which had lain there for five months. These poor people suffer almost as much in winter on the shores of the Black Sea, on the dreary, inhospitable steppe, as Captain Ross did at the North Pole.
As the night was clear and beautiful, v e preferred going on in our little swift britshka to stopping on the road. It looked, it is true, more like a stalactite cave than a carriage, for it was crusted over and over with the tough mud of the Poltava district, and decorated all round with dry pendant drops ; but we slept very comfortably in it, notwithstanding, and made considerable progress in our route.