The boys were not sure that they were really going to be allowed to
leave Nizhni-Novgorod until the boat had actually started on its voyage
down the river. Even then they feared that it might be stopped and
they would be taken off and thrown into a Russian dungeon. When they
found, however, that they were truly leaving the city where their
father was held in some sort of mysterious restraint, his plight seemed
more dreadful to them than it had before. The thought that they were
deserting him when he might be in great danger made them so miserable
that they almost determined to ask to be put ashore and then to make
their way back to the hotel and stay quietly there until their father
was released or they received a message from him.
“It makes me feel positively sick,” said Raymond, “when I think we are
leaving father in an awful Russian prison.”
“It does me, too,” said Sidney, “and I’ve a good mind to go back.”
“I expect it would be pretty tough, though, Sid, to stay at the hotel,
maybe for weeks, without hearing from father.”
“And then when he got out perhaps we shouldn’t be able to leave the
city at all, and mother would think we were all killed.”
“That’s so,” said Raymond; “if we reach some place where we can
telegraph, it will be a great relief to mother.”
“You know, Ray, when father was shut up in Chihuahua by the rebels he
sent us a message to get home the best way we could, and said he could
depend on us to take care of ourselves. I believe he would want us to
do the same thing now.”
“I guess that’s right, Sid, and we are doing the best thing after all.”
When the matter was finally settled and the boys had decided that they
were doing the right thing, they felt easier in their minds and were
able to enjoy the strange sights on the boat. Their cabin, in the bow
on the upper deck, was very comfortable, and with their soft rugs and
pillows they made up an excellent bed, for on Russian steamboats and
trains bedding is not supplied without extra charge, so most travelers
take their own.
While the boat was classed as a freight carrier there were really a
great many passengers, and all were Russian, or people under Russian
rule. Many of the latter were decidedly Eastern and gave a very
Oriental atmosphere to the scene.
Down on the lower deck, squatting about on the floor playing various
games, were many brown-clad Tatars, their brown garb extending even
to the heavy brown cloth head-coverings. Less socially inclined were
gaunt Kalmucks with shaven heads. All showed their Mongolian origin
by their narrow, slant eyes. Of Mongolian origin also, but Russian in
appearance, were several Mordvin families going back to their homes in
Simbirsk and Samara. These people, as well as nearly all the Russians,
were preparing their afternoon potation of tea, made from pressed tea
bricks and hot water which they obtained from the waiters.
The current of the Volga is very slow and even, the fall being slight,
and as the boat stopped only at large towns, which on the river are
widely separated, the boys on going to bed slept as soundly as they
would have done in their own home.
On the right bank of the Volga there are usually bluffs, sometimes
quite high hills, while much of the country on the left bank is low and
flat. The boys spent the greater part of the next day lazily gazing
out over the level fields, or inspecting the villages past which they
steamed.
On the third day, August 5, they reached the large city of Kazan,
where the boat stopped several hours to make a considerable change of
cargo. The boys stationed themselves near the gangplank to watch the
unloading, for the city is some five miles from the landing and they
thought it too far away to visit. There was a great deal of animated
talking between the men of the boat and the men on the wharf, and the
boys wondered if the Russian roustabouts were always so vivacious.
Presently one of the Russian sailors, whom they had not especially
noticed, addressed them in excellent English.
“I suppose you young gentlemen don’t understand what these men are
saying.”
“No,” said Sidney; “we don’t understand a word.”
“They are talking about the war; it’s going to be a big fight.”
“Then Germany and Austria will both fight Russia?”
“Yes, but Russia is backed up by England and France.”
“Has England joined in the war, too?”
“She joined yesterday; she and France are Russia’s allies, and they are
bound to help her.”
At that moment the officer in charge of the unloading called out
sharply and the sailor hurried along with his load. After the boat had
left the wharf at Kazan, the boys took every opportunity to speak to
the sailor, it was so pleasant to be able to talk English with some
one. They asked information about the country through which they were
passing, and about the strange people on the boat. The topic that
would have interested them most was the war, but the sailor could tell
them very little about that. The man, though a Russian, had served on
English ships, and had been in many English and American ports, in
that way learning to speak English well. In the course of the voyage
to Astrakhan the boys picked up many Russian words and phrases and soon
began to feel that they were prepared to travel anywhere in the empire.
On August 8 the boat tied up to the wharf at Astrakhan, where the
English-speaking sailor gathered the news and imparted to the boys
the information that President Wilson had issued a proclamation of
neutrality.
The boys soon began to notice that the people on the boat appeared
greatly interested in them, though at first they had attracted little
attention. After passing out on to the Caspian not only the captain but
other officers of the boat talked with them through their friend the
sailor, for it happened that none of the officers spoke English, as
would not have been the case on a boat in the regular passenger service.
They told the circumstances of their trip very frankly to the captain,
who assured them that they need not be alarmed about their father, for
he would certainly be released, though he might be held some days.
All Russian officials, the captain said, would be extremely busy in
the mobilization of the army, but he was sure that Mr. Porter would
not only eventually be released, but would probably be helped back to
America. The captain informed the boys that the Government had wired
instructions to the chiefs of police in all towns where there was
likely to be any foreign travel, that all English, French, and American
travelers, but especially the latter, should be treated with the utmost
consideration, and should be assisted whenever possible. Such a message
had been received at Astrakhan.
Sidney asked why Americans should be treated with greater consideration
than the citizens of other countries, and was told that it was because
the United States was the only great nation that had remained neutral,
and would probably continue to be neutral throughout the war.
The boys became quite excited at that information, and imagined that
their father might even then be at liberty. Sidney declared that when
they arrived at Petrovsk he would try to reach his father with a
telegram, and if he succeeded they would return to Nizhni-Novgorod.
The captain dashed their hopes, however, by telling them that all
telegraph lines had been monopolized by the Government, and that it
would be impossible to send a private message of any sort. He advised
the boys to continue as they had planned, saying that they would
probably reach home before their father. He said, moreover, that he
could be of great help to them at Petrovsk.
When they arrived at that port, where the boys were to leave the boat,
the captain went with them to the chief of police, taking the sailor
along to assist in the conversation. He explained the state of affairs
to the official, and though no instructions concerning foreigners
had been received at Petrovsk, probably because that town was so
insignificant a place, the chief of police was finally convinced that
it would be his duty to help the boys to the extent of his power. The
captain assured him that he had seen the order sent to Astrakhan, and
he was certain the Petrovsk official would rue the day that he went
contrary to the spirit of those instructions.
The boys had expected to proceed from Petrovsk by rail to Vladikavkaz,
and then by wagon along the Georgia military road through the Dariel
Pass to Tiflis. They had been told there was a daily automobile stage
through the pass, but feared that if they indulged in such luxury, they
would not have money enough to reach home, so decided to choose the
very much slower, but also very much cheaper, mode of travel.
When the captain learned, however, that mobilization of the army
was being pushed so vigorously that the Dariel Pass would be filled
constantly with moving troops, he feared that it would not be safe
for the boys to attempt that route, and advised them to give it up.
He said they would be almost certain to encounter acts of aggression
by the soldiers, no matter how well disposed the officers might be.
The chief informed them there was another possible way of crossing the
mountains by trails that led almost directly south from Petrovsk. But
the mountains through which those trails passed were extremely rugged
and difficult, and the people who inhabited them were very rough and
sometimes even fierce. That it would be, in short, a dangerous road,
and he doubted if young boys who were strange to the country could
accomplish a passage. When those drawbacks were explained to the boys,
however, they declared that they were too familiar with mountains to be
scared by anything of the sort. Indeed, the mountain route looked very
attractive to them, and they immediately chose it.
The captain thought if the boys were to pass through so wild a country
that they should have something in the nature of a passport which they
could show, and suggested that the chief of police should give them
one. As a result, probably accelerated by a fee of five rubles offered
at the captain’s suggestion, a paper was made out which stated that
Sidney Porter and his brother Raymond were returning to their home in
the United States on account of the war in which Russia was engaged,
and that all officials of Russian towns through which they passed
should help them on their way in obedience to an order received from
Petrograd. Signed by the “Chief of Police of Petrovsk, Province of
Daghestan.”
The sailor read this paper to the boys so they would know exactly what
they were offering as a passport. When he came to the end Raymond
exclaimed,--
“Where in the world is Petrograd? I never heard of that place before.”
The man could not inform him, for he had never heard of the place
either; but when he asked the captain, it was explained that the Czar
had just changed the name of St. Petersburg to Petrograd, on account of
the German origin of the former name.
“Well, if they feel that way about everything German,” said Raymond, “I
don’t wonder they arrested father, who could speak the German language.”
When that matter was arranged, the captain said that he must return to
the boat. He accordingly bade good-bye to the boys and embraced them
most affectionately. But he left the sailor with them until they should
have purchased horses and whatever of an outfit they needed for their
mountain journey. The boys learned from the sailor that the captain
remained in port several hours longer than he would otherwise have
done, solely to help them get started on their way.
With the assistance of their friend the boys purchased two young,
spirited horses and high Tatar saddles. They also bought heavy boots,
horsehair cloaks, and saddlebags. Then they bade good-bye to the sailor
with hearty thanks for his aid, and went to the inn to get a good rest
in preparation for hard work the next day.
There was a very passable wagon road as far as the provincial capital,
Timour Khan Shoura, and by getting an early start from Petrovsk the
boys hoped to cover that first stage of their journey in one day.
Accordingly, they made all final arrangements the night before so there
might be no delay in the morning. Their traveling-rugs and the new
horsehair cloaks they would tie behind the saddles, but the pillows
which they had brought with them down the Volga they could not carry
any farther. Those desirable accessories to a comfortable journey
they accordingly presented to the chief of police, who had taken so
active an interest in their welfare. The contents of their handbag
they transferred to the saddle-pockets, and the bag itself they gave
to the landlord of the inn, who also had been very attentive to their
needs and comfort, as far as his limited resources would allow. The
saddlebags were destined to hold also a limited supply of food,
consisting mainly of cheese and the hard bread of the country.
The boys were on the road in the morning quite as early as they had
desired, and the new horses proved admirable under the saddle, though
almost too ambitious, requiring constant watchfulness. The immediately
surrounding country was barren and uninteresting, but in front the
ground rose gradually until, in the dim distance, it culminated in
the colossal wall of the Caucasus Range, which they must cross. The
principal objects of interest were the people, chiefly Tatars, whom
they met, or who passed them, dashing furiously ahead on their wiry
horses of the Steppes.
The day wore on to late afternoon and the boys judged they were
approaching Timour Khan Shoura, when there appeared a considerable
cavalcade approaching them. There were a number of loose horses being
driven by half a dozen soldiers under an officer, who gave a command on
reaching the boys, and the soldiers drew up across the road, blocking
the way.