Defended by rows of tall mountains to east and west, the plain of the river Tym stretches for a hundred versts, nearly following the meridian. Its northern end enters the Okhotsk Sea, but its southern connects to the high range that draws the Tym away from the Poronai River, similarly flowing virtually along the meridian, albeit toward the south. These two rivers divide Sakhalin's central region into two parts: to the west, it is more or less settled, but to the east, it is nearly uninhabited, if one does not consider the few Giliak and Orochon yurts on the Okhotsk seacoast. This is the center of the entire island and the watershed affiliated with the settlements of Rykovsk, Palevo, etc. This mountainous defense isolates the valley's climate. The sea's moderating influence is barely noticeable there, and the winter's terrible forty-degree frosts (this temperature once lasted three weeks in a row) are exchanged for the summer's thirty-degree heat. Also, the ocean fogs— that scourge of the Sakhalin coastline— are striking there. A corresponding distribution of sediments would seem to render Rykovsk's valley an outstanding place for agriculture. But farmers there are cornered by the mountains . When spring rains are needed, there are none, yet during hay-mowing and wheat-harvesting, you can't stop the rain. Nonetheless, grain (rye, barley, oats, and even wheat) is sown annually in all the valley clearings. I remember how strong an impression a field on the road to Palevo made on me when seeing it the first time! A sea of yellow ears stretching several hundred desiatiny was waving from the river to the piedmont. Rykovsk settlement itself is so broadly laid out that strips of plowland half-averst wide lie between its streets as well.

Viewed from a mountain, Rykovsk appears as four parallel hamlets separated into half-verst widths. These hamlets, or four streets, contain within the single diameter of the settlement nearly all its state-built constructions.

I was strolling for the first time a little beyond the settlement. For one thing, I didn't have time for a long walk (settlement streets extend three versts), and for another, we still weren't familiar with conditions in the local taiga. We newcomers feared bears and Giliaks but mainly vagabonds, i.e., convicts on the run.