It
was a superb act of courage, and the Tzar decorated this young
sergeant with the order of Vladimir--one of the rarest decorations in
all Russia. I am told that not over six living men possess it to-day.
It was a beautiful thing for the Tzar thus to recognize this heroic
deed.
When we left Moscow we were having our first real taste of Russian
winter, for, strange to say, although so much farther south, the
climate is much more severe than that of St. Petersburg.
My companion complained bitterly that we were not seeing anything of
Russia because we came down from St. Petersburg at night, so we
abandoned the courier train, and took the slow day-train for Kiev, the
old capital of Russia, that she might see more of the country.
But now I come to my reward and her chagrin. Between Moscow and Kiev
we were snowed in for sixteen hours. It was between stations, the food
gave out--I mean it gave out because we did not have any to start
with--the train became bitterly cold, and we came near freezing and
starving to death. That made our Russian experiences quite complete.
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