The country population had evidently fled to the northwards, to the province of Yeniseisk, dreading the invasion, which they could not resist.
Michael was walking at a rapid pace towards Kolyvan when distant firing struck his ear.

He stopped, and clearly distinguished the dull roar of artillery, and above it a crisp rattle which could not be mistaken.
"It is cannon and musketry!" said he.

"The little Russian body is engaged with the Tartar army! Pray Heaven that I may arrive at Kolyvan before them!" The firing became gradually louder, and soon to the left of Kolyvan a mist collected--not smoke, but those great white clouds produced by discharges of artillery.
The Usbeck horsemen stopped on the left of the Obi, to await the result of the battle.

From them Michael had nothing to fear as he hastened towards the town.
In the meanwhile the firing increased, and became sensibly nearer.

It was no longer a confused roar, but distinct reports.