I myself a m one of them in many ways, believing heartily in the old and hoping little in the new, and thoroughly opposed to the unnecessary habits of civilisation. I asked Zikof, for that was his name. We go into the forest with axes and fell timber. The wood is a long way from Pinyega, and we roll the logs down to the river. About two versts.
Horses are better than machines.
It is slow, but we are going to make a water way. There is an underground river which empties itself into the Pinyega. It ought to be dug out. Several times I have mentioned it to the agent, but they won't pay the men wages for doing it, so the work isn't done. The agents are foolish.