Conducting natural observations at the Rykovsk meteorological station, I moved into the government apartment Mariia Antonovna had lived in. I was offered a laborer to serve in the capacity of watchman for the meteorological hut. There were many enthusiasts for this position, or, as exiled penal laborers say, “vacation.” I was recommended a Georgian named Andrei, who’d escaped from Onor. I appealed to the warden and he ordered him into my service. Andrei wasted no time showing up. As if he wouldn't have! Being assigned to me freed him from the terrible Khanov.

During the Turkish war, this Georgian had served heroically in the Transcaucasian militia and was wounded in the head. There was still a serious scar on his forehead. For a while he ended up in a rescue station on the Black Sea coast and, as a good swimmer, twice had the opportunity to deliver aid at sea, receiving a medal for saving people who were shipwrecked. At the start of the Armenian movement, which ultimately played out in bloody scenes, Andrei got involved in transporting contraband weapons. He was pursued and, regardless of a courageous defense, arrested and then exiled to katorga labor following trial. Having ended up in Khanov's party, he could not at all endure the beastly violence, and fled. His good luck at landing a vacation spared him punishment. He instantly struck me as credible, and I asked him to candidly tell me what was happening in Onor.

Extremely upset, sometimes with tears in his eyes, he related a whole series of horrible scenes of vicious arbitrariness by the guards. I will give just a portion of what he said.

“We went there strong. We, they said, would get four pounds bread: the labor was very hard, and there was only one cooked meal: very bad! We not only not see this four pounds, we not even get three. Hard taiga work, in a bog, mosquitoes and gnats, you go whole day starving! And guards there with canes. Give you quota— you know afore you cannot do.