GENERAL ASPECTS OF MAI-MAI-CHIN.--DINNER WITH A CHINESE GOVERNOR.--A
THEATRICAL PERFORMANCE.--LAKE BAIKAL: ITS REMARKABLE FEATURES.--A
WONDERFUL RIDE.--IRKUTSK.--ITS POPULATION, SIZE, AND
PECULIARITIES.--SOCIAL GAYETIES.--PREPARATIONS FOR A LONG
SLEIGH-RIDE.--LIST OF GARMENTS.--VARIETIES OF SLEIGHS.--FAREWELL TO
IRKUTSK.--SLEIGHING INCIDENTS.--FOOD ON THE ROAD.--SIBERIAN
MAILS.--ADVANTAGES OF WINTER TRAVELLING.--SLEIGHING ON BARE GROUND.--A
SNOWLESS REGION.--KRASNOYARSK.
"You have been in China, I believe," said Mr. Hegeman, during the pause
that followed the story of how the Russian and Chinese merchants
circumvented the stipulations of the treaty.
[Illustration: SCENE IN A CHINESE TEMPLE.]
"Oh yes," Frank responded. "We were at Peking, which is, I think, only
eight hundred miles from Kiachta. We went from Peking to the Great Wall
of China, so that we were less than seven hundred miles from the point
where you called on the Sargootchay. You can learn about our journey in
'The Boy Travellers in Japan and China.'"
"I shall read the book with great pleasure," was the reply, "now that I
have met the youths whose travels are described in it. As you have seen
the Chinese at home, and know their manners and customs, I won't take
your time by telling you what I saw in Mai-mai-chin, which is just like
any other Chinese city in nearly every respect.
"I may add that it is said to be the cleanest town in all China. It is
only half a mile square, carefully laid out, and its streets are swept
daily. Only the merchants and their employés, with a small garrison of
soldiers, are allowed to live there, and consequently there is no poor
population such as you always find in the other cities of the Empire."
"That must be a great relief," Fred remarked. "Wherever we went in China
we saw so much degradation and suffering that it destroyed a great deal
of the pleasure of the journey."
"I didn't see a beggar in Mai-mai-chin," continued Mr. Hegeman, "nor
anybody who looked like one. There were plenty of laborers employed in
handling the tea and other merchandise, but they all appeared to be well
cared for. Outside the town there was quite a camp of Mongolians with
their camel-trains, which are employed in the transportation of goods
across the great desert of Gobi.
"The Sargootchay invited me to dinner, and I went there with the
Governor of Kiachta and some of his officers. The Sargootchay was
polite, and we tried to talk, but had a good deal of difficulty in doing
so on account of the numerous translations.
"What I thought in my own language I said in French to one of my Russian
friends. He spoke in Russian to his Russian-Mongol interpreter, who
spoke in Mongol to the Mongol-Chinese interpreter of the Sargootchay.
Remarks and responses thus had to pass through four tongues to reach
their destination.
[Illustration: THEATRE AT MAI-MAI-CHIN.]
"The dinner was probably like what you had at Peking or Canton, and so I
will not take the time to describe it. After dinner we went to the
theatre, where we sat under a canopy and witnessed a performance which
included, among other things, a procession of fictitious wild beasts.
That they were very fictitious was shown by the accident of the tiger's
mask falling off and revealing the head of an astonished man.
[Illustration: THE TIGER.]
"The thermometer was below the freezing-point, and as the theatre was in
the open air, I was very glad that the performance was short.
"From Kiachta I returned to Verckne Udinsk, and then proceeded to
Irkutsk by way of Lake Baikal. This lake is said to be the largest body
of fresh water in Asia. It is four hundred miles long by about fifty
broad, and is fourteen hundred feet above the level of the sea. The
quantity of water flowing into it is said to be ten times as much as
passes from it by its outlet, the Angara River. What becomes of the
other nine-tenths is a mystery that has puzzled many scientific men;
none of them have been able to establish a theory which the others have
not completely upset.
"I crossed the lake in a steamboat, and during the voyage listened
eagerly to the description of the winter passage which is made on the
ice. I will give it as nearly as I can remember in the words of my
informant, a gentleman who filled the position of Superintendent of
Public Instruction in Eastern Siberia:
[Illustration: A NATURAL ARCH ON LAKE BAIKAL.]
"'The lake does not freeze over until quite late in the autumn, and when
it does the whole surface is congealed in a single night. In a few days
the ice is from three to six feet thick, and perfectly transparent. The
first time I crossed it was from the western to the eastern shore. The
former is mountainous, while the latter is low and flat. As we began our
ride the land on the other side was quite invisible, and it seemed to me
very much like setting out in a sleigh for a voyage from Queenstown to
New York. When I leaned over and looked downward, it was like gazing
into the depths of the ocean. It was not until I alighted and stood on
the firm ice that I could dispel the illusion that we were gliding over
the unfrozen surface of the lake, as the natives believe its guardian
spirit walks upon the waters without sinking beneath them.
"'At night every star was reflected as in a mirror, and I saw the
heavens above me, beneath me, and all around. As the rising moon lighted
up the faint horizon of ice and sky, I could half believe I had left the
world behind me, and was moving away through the myriads of stars
towards the centre of another solar system distinct from our own.'
"The natives have many superstitions concerning the Baikal," Mr. Hegeman
continued. "In their language it is the 'Holy Sea,' and they consider it
sacrilege to call it a lake. It is very deep, soundings of two thousand
feet having been made without finding bottom. It is more like a sea than
a lake in some of its peculiarities; gulls and other ocean birds fly
over it, and it is the only body of fresh water on the globe where the
seal abounds. There are banks of coral in some parts of it, in spite of
the high northern latitude and the constant coldness of the water. The
natives say that nobody is ever lost in the lake; any one drowned in
its waters is thrown up on the shores."
"It must be a long drive from one side of the lake to the other," one of
the youths remarked.
"It is, indeed," was the reply. "Formerly they had a station on the ice
in the middle of the lake, which was removed at the approach of spring.
One season the ice broke up unexpectedly, and the entire station, with
all its men and horses, was swallowed up. Since that time no station has
been kept there in winter, and the entire journey across, about
fifty-five miles, is made without a change. The horses are carefully
selected, and as the road is magnificent they go at great speed,
stopping only two or three times for a rest of a few minutes.
[Illustration: CAVERNS ON LAKE BAIKAL.]
"The western shore is mountainous, and in places very picturesque. There
are steep cliffs that come down to the water, and in some of these
cliffs you find caverns and arches which recall the pictured shores of
Lake Superior. Earthquakes are not unfrequent, and many persons believe
that the lake occupies the crater of an extinct volcano whose internal
fires are determined to keep themselves in remembrance. A village on the
shore of the lake was destroyed by one of the shocks. Half of it was
carried below the level of the water, and the other half thrown up to a
considerable height above its former position.
"So much for this remarkable lake. From the western shore to Irkutsk
(about forty miles) the road follows near the bank of the Angara, which
is very swift. The river does not freeze until after the lake has been
covered with ice, and for two or three miles below the point where it
emerges from the lake it never freezes even in the severest winters.
There is a great rock in the stream at this point which is regarded with
superstition by the aboriginal inhabitants. They perform religious
ceremonies when passing it, and formerly it was a place of sacrifice.
Hundreds, if not thousands, of men, women, and children have been tossed
from this rock to be drowned in the swift current flowing below it.
"It had been my original plan to reach Irkutsk on wheels, and remain
there till the winter roads were formed, so that I could continue from
that city in a sleigh. A snow-storm began an hour before I reached the
city, and indicated that I had made a very good calculation; it cleared
up soon after we passed the gate-way, and for several days thereafter
the weather was delightful. My reception was most cordial; Americans
were rare visitors in the capital of Eastern Siberia, and I was the
first that many of the people had ever seen."
One of the youths remarked that he believed Irkutsk was a city of
considerable size and importance.
[Illustration: PART OF IRKUTSK.]
"It is the largest city in Siberia," said Mr. Hegeman, "and has a
population of about thirty-five thousand. The Governor-general of
Eastern Siberia lives there. He has many officers attached to his staff.
There are many wealthy citizens. The houses are large, well built, and
furnished, and the style of living is liberal.
"The winter opens with a long list of balls, parties, dinners, concerts,
and other festivities, which are kept up until the coming of the Lenten
season. Every family keeps open house through the winter, and it is
customary to drop in whenever one chooses, and take tea at eight
o'clock. There is no formality about the matter. One of the ladies of
the house presides at the _samovar_, and the others of the party are
scattered around the parlors wherever it is most convenient or agreeable
to be. My recollections of Irkutsk are of the most pleasant sort, and I
greatly regret the place is so far away that one cannot easily revisit
it.
[Illustration: VIEW OF THE PRINCIPAL SQUARE IN IRKUTSK.]
"Since I was there Irkutsk has suffered by a fire that destroyed more
than half the buildings, and caused a vast amount of distress. For a
time it was thought the city would not be rebuilt, but I hear that it is
being restored very rapidly, and in a few years will be more attractive
than it was before the conflagration.[5]
[5] The fire occurred on July 6th and 7th, 1879. About thirty-six
hundred buildings were destroyed, of which one hundred and more were of
stone or brick, and the rest of wood. Six Russian churches were burned,
and also two synagogues, one Catholic and one Lutheran church; five
bazaars, the meat-market, museum, club-house, custom-house, and other
public edifices were consumed. The loss was about fifteen millions of
dollars, and many persons formerly in good circumstances were rendered
penniless. The wealthy inhabitants who escaped loss or ruin gave
liberally to relieve the general distress, and the Government made
substantial provision for the unemployed.
[Illustration: DRESSED FOR THE ROAD.]
"When the winter roads were reported in a condition for travelling I
began my preparations for leaving Irkutsk on a sleigh-ride of thirty-six
hundred miles. The thermometer went to twenty degrees below zero soon
after the first fall of snow, and my Russian friends told me to prepare
for forty below. Under their advice I employed a tailor who knew his
business, and when his work was completed my room resembled a clothing
store of modest proportions. Here is what I bought: A sheepskin coat
with the wool inside; the garment fell below my knees, was without a
collar, and buttoned tight around the neck. It was intended for wearing
outside my ordinary suit of clothing. Outside of this was what the
Russians call a _dehar_; it was made of deer-skin, with the hair
outward, and as I walked it swept the floor like a lady's ball-dress.
The sleeves were six inches longer than my arms, and very inconvenient
when I wished to pick up any small article; the collar was a foot wide,
and when turned up and brought around in front completely concealed my
head. Then I had a fur cap, circular in shape and with lappets for
covering the ears. A lady made, from a piece of sable-skin, a mitten for
my nose.
"For my foot-gear I discarded my leather boots. Outside of my ordinary
socks I had a pair of squirrel-skin socks with the fur inside, sheepskin
stockings with the wool inside and reaching to the knee, and outside of
these were deer-skin boots, with the hair outside, and reaching up
nearly to the junction of my lower limbs. Added to these garments for
excluding cold was a robe of sheepskins with the wool on, and backed
with heavy cloth. It was seven feet square, and something like a dozen
skins were required for making it. At one end it was shaped into a sort
of bag for receiving the feet."
Fred suggested that such a costume must be very inconvenient for
walking, and it must be no easy matter to enter and leave a sleigh when
thus wrapped for a cold night.
"You are quite right," said Mr. Hegeman; "it is the work of a minute or
more to turn over at night and change one's position, excepting, of
course, when the sleigh turns over first."
"Did that happen often?"
"Fortunately not," was the reply, "but the few experiences of this kind
that I had were quite sufficient. One night we were upset while going at
full speed down a hill. I was asleep at the time, and without the least
warning found myself in a mass of baggage, hay, furs, and snow. My first
thought was that an earthquake had hit us, and it was several seconds
before I realized what had happened. One of the horses broke loose and
ran away; the driver mounted the other and went after the fugitive, and
for half an hour my companion and myself were left alone with the sleigh
and its contents. We kept ourselves busy trying to get things to rights,
and as we had only the light of the stars to work by, we did not get
along rapidly.
"We found one of the shafts and also a fender broken; otherwise the
vehicle had suffered no material damage. But I'm getting ahead of the
story.
"I arranged to leave Irkutsk with some Russian friends who were going to
Krasnoyarsk, the next provincial capital. After getting my furs, the
next thing was to buy a sleigh, and again I took advice.
[Illustration: A VASHOK.]
"There is a sleigh called a _vashok_, which is much like a small
omnibus. It has doors at the side and is very capacious, but it has the
disadvantage that you are completely enclosed in it, and can see nothing
of the country you are passing through. A better vehicle is the
_kibitka_, a sort of tarantasse on runners, and suggestive of the
American chaise in the arrangement of its front. There is a hood which
can be lowered and fastened to an apron rising from the wooden box, in
which your feet are pushed when you enter the vehicle. By day you can
see the country and enjoy the fresh air, and at night or in storms you
close the hood and are very well protected from the weather. Ladies and
invalids prefer the vashok, while healthy men have a decided liking for
the kibitka.
[Illustration: MY KIBITKA.]
"At the rear of the kibitka there is usually a frame of poles, covered
with a net of half inch rope. It is a convenient receptacle for extra
baggage, and also serves to break the force of horses running against
the sleigh from behind.
"The driver of the vashok sits on a seat much like that of an ordinary
carriage, while on the kibitka he is seated on the boxed front, with his
feet hanging over the side. The position is one that requires constant
vigilance to prevent falling off. The driver of a vashok might possibly
sleep a little without danger, but not so the driver of a kibitka.
"My kibitka was made in European Russia, and was said to have travelled
six thousand miles before I owned it. In my possession it went
thirty-six hundred miles, and was certainly good for several thousand
more. In the whole ride it cost me about five dollars for repairs,
principally to the shafts and fenders. I gave eighty roubles for the
sleigh in Irkutsk, and sold it at Nijni Novgorod for ten.
[Illustration: FAREWELL TO IRKUTSK.]
"The day of my departure was spent in making farewell calls and getting
the baggage in readiness. A Russian gentleman was to accompany me in my
sleigh; two ladies, mother and daughter, were to be in another; and two
servants of the ladies, a man and a maid, were to be in a third. The
ladies lived in Irkutsk, and we were to dine at their house and start
from it. At the appointed time we went there.
"There was a gay party at the dinner, and when it was over the starting
signal was given. All present seated themselves around the parlor, and a
few moments were given to silent prayer, the travellers asking, and the
others wishing for them, a safe journey. On rising, all who professed
the religion of the Eastern Church made the sign of the cross before the
_ikon_, or holy picture, and bowed towards it. Every true Russian
scrupulously observes this ceremony before starting on a journey,
whether by land or water.
"The Angara sweeps gracefully around two sides of Irkutsk, and many of
the houses are on the bank. There is a swinging ferry to connect the
opposite shores; the boat is at the end of a strong cable, anchored
nearly a mile up the stream, and it is swung across through the force of
the current against its sides. Starting for Moscow it is necessary to
cross the river, and I was told there would be some friends at the ferry
to see me off. We had a good deal of seeing off, as nearly a dozen
sleighs, filled with friends of my companions, were to accompany us to
the first station.
"When we reached the bank it was the close of the day; in fact, dusk was
about coming on. The ferry-boat was coming from the other shore. I
looked, and saw it was dressed in flags and Chinese lanterns; I looked
again, and there were American flags!--four American flags and one
Russian. It was the first time my national standard had ever been
hoisted at Irkutsk.
"There was a lump in my throat and a film over my eyes as I raised my
cap and tried to give three cheers. My voice proved to be husky, and the
effort was not crowned with distinguished success. It was a surprise
planned by several of my Russian friends; when it was all over, I
remembered how one of the ladies had asked me several days before how
the American flag was made, and obtained from me a drawing showing the
arrangement of stripes and stars. There wasn't an American flag in
Irkutsk, and they had caused these to be made for the occasion."
"What a hospitable people they must be at Irkutsk!" said Frank. Fred
echoed the sentiment, and so did Doctor Bronson. The latter said it was
only those who had been a long time from home who could appreciate the
feeling that comes over a man when he sees his country's flag thus
displayed.
"After many expressions of good-will and good wishes for everybody, and
hand-shakings without number, our sleighs were driven on the ferry-boat,
and we swung across the Angara. At the first station we made a merry
party till a late hour; then the friends who came to see us off returned
to Irkutsk, while we travellers took to our sleighs and went comfortably
to sleep, while our horses dashed gayly over the smooth road.
"For the first fifty miles after leaving Irkutsk the road follows the
bank of the Angara; at times we were close to the dark waters, and never
far away from them. A dense fog, or frost-cloud, lay on the river; the
night was cold, and the moisture congealed on everything where it could
find a resting-place. In the morning every part of my sleigh save the
running portion was white with hoar-frost. Each little fibre projecting
from the canvas and matting that formed the cover had been turned to a
stalactite or a stalagmite, and the head of every nail and bolt
resembled oxydized silver. Horses were white without regard to their
natural color, and even the garments of the drivers had come in for
their share of the congelation.
[Illustration: WORK OF THE FROST-KING.]
"Many times afterwards I had occasion to remark the beauties of the work
of the frost-king. Houses and fences were cased in ice, its thickness
varying with the condition of the weather. Trees and bushes were covered
with crystals, and in the morning sunlight they sparkled as though
coated with diamonds. Sometimes the trees resembled fountains caught and
frozen when in full action. The pictured delineations of the frost had
all the varieties of the kaleidoscope, but without its colors.
"During the night I slept well, in spite of several severe thumps
received from sleighs going in the other direction. Russian sleighs are
so built that two of them can run together with considerable force
without serious consequences. Look at the picture of a vashok and you
will understand it.
"The runners are about thirty inches apart, and generally shod with
iron. On each side there is a fender, which consists of a stout pole
fastened to the forward end of the runner, and extending downward and
outward to the rear, where it is about two feet from the runner and held
by strong braces. On a level surface it is just clear of the snow, but
when the vehicle tips ever so little the fender sustains the weight and
prevents an overturn. When two sleighs moving in opposite directions
come together, the fenders slip against each other like a pair of
fencing foils.
"Occasionally the shock of meeting is so severe that the fenders are
broken. An accident of this kind happened one day to my kibitka, the
fender on one side being completely torn off. At the next station I
summoned a carpenter and had the missing fender restored and made
stronger than it was before."
Frank asked how the traveller's baggage was carried in a Siberian
sleigh?
"Baggage is spread over the bottom of the sleigh," said Mr. Hegeman, in
reply to the question. "Wooden and other solid trunks must be discarded,
and in their place the Russians have what they call _chemidans_. The
chemidan is made of soft leather, very broad and flat, and must not be
filled with fragile articles. For ladies' bonnets and other crushable
things there are chemidans which more resemble the packing-case of a
framed picture than anything else; they fit easily into the bottom of a
sleigh or tarantasse, and are strong enough to bear the weight of the
traveller. Baggage is spread over the bottom of the vehicle, and the
chinks and crevices are filled with straw or hay to make as level a
surface as possible. Over this is spread a rug of sheepskins. There is
no seat as in an ordinary vehicle, but you sit there very much as you
would on the carpet in the corner of a room. Each traveller has a corner
of the sleigh, and wedges himself into a comfortable position by means
of pillows; he may lie down, recline, or sit bolt upright as he
chooses."
"Did you carry your provisions for the road, or could you rely upon the
stations to furnish them?" Fred inquired.
[Illustration: INTERIOR OF A RUSSIAN INN.]
"We could rely upon the stations for the _samovar_ with hot water, and
for bread and eggs," was the reply, "the same as in the tarantasse
journey I have already described, but everything else that we wanted had
to be carried along. We had our own tea and sugar, likewise our
roast-beef, cabbage-soup, and _pilmania_."
"What is pilmania?"
"The best thing imaginable for this kind of travelling. It consists of a
piece of cooked meat--beef or mutton--about the size of a grape,
seasoned and wrapped in a thin covering of dough, and then rolled in
flour. We had at starting nearly a bushel of these dough-covered
meat-balls frozen solid and carried in a bag. When we reached a station
where we wished to dine, sup, or breakfast, we ordered the _samovar_,
and said we had pilmania, before getting out of the sleigh. A pot of
water was immediately put on the fire and heated to the boiling-point;
then a double handful of our pilmania was dropped into the pot, the
water was brought to the boil again and kept simmering for a few
minutes. The result was a rich meat-soup which Delmonico could not
surpass.
"The bag containing the frozen pilmania seemed to be filled with
walnuts. Our cabbage-soup was in cakes like small bricks, and our
roast-beef resembled red granite. We carved the beef with a hatchet,
and then thawed out the slices while waiting for the _samovar_. We had
partridges cooked and frozen. With all the articles I have named for
dinner, what more could we wish, especially when we had appetites
sharpened by travelling in the keen, pure air of Siberia?"
"Wasn't there danger, while you were in the stations eating your meals,
that things would be stolen from the sleigh?" was the next interrogatory
by one of the youths.
[Illustration: MAIL-DRIVER AND GUARD.]
"I had fears of that before starting," was the reply, "but my friends
assured me that thefts from vehicles on the post-roads were very rare.
There were always several employés of the station moving about, or
engaged in harnessing or unharnessing the teams, so that outsiders had
little chance to pilfer without being discovered. The native Siberians
have a good reputation for honesty, and the majority of those exiled for
minor offences lead correct lives. According to my experience, the
Siberians are more honest than the inhabitants of European Russia. After
passing the Ural Mountains we always employed somebody to watch the
sleigh while we were at meals in the station, which we did not do while
in Siberia.
"The gentleman who rode with me was an officer in the Russian service;
he, like myself, carried a second-class paderojnia, but the ladies had
only a third-class one. On the second day of our journey, just as we had
finished dinner and our teams were ready to start, it was announced that
the post with five vehicles was approaching. We donned our furs very
quickly, while our servants gathered up our part of the dinner
equipment. Leaving enough money on the table to pay for what we had
received from the station, we bundled into our vehicles and hastened
away. There was no danger of our losing the two teams which had been
secured on the second-class paderojnias, but we were not at all certain
about the other. If there had not been sufficient horses at the station
for the post, our third team would have been taken from us, and we might
have waited for hours before obtaining horses. The best way of solving
the problem was to be out of the way when it came up for solution. As
the man said of a railway accident, 'Presence of mind is good, but
absence of body is better.'
[Illustration: DISTANT VIEW OF A SIBERIAN VILLAGE.]
"We obtained excellent speed from the horses where the roads were good,
as we gave a fee to the drivers at the end of their routes,
proportioning it according to the character of their service. My sleigh
generally took the lead, and we always promised a liberal gratuity for
extra rate of progress. The regulations require that vehicles not on
Government service shall go at a pace of ten versts (six and two-third
miles) an hour, provided the roads are in good condition. If a driver
just came up to the regulations and no more, we gave him eight or ten
copecks; if he was accommodating and energetic, we increased his
gratuity accordingly. Fifteen copecks was a liberal reward, twenty
munificent, twenty-five princely, and thirty imperial. We went at
breakneck pace where the roads permitted, and often where they did not.
Occasionally we stimulated the drivers to a race, and then our progress
was exciting, as well as dangerous.
"The post was carried twice a week each way, and we frequently
encountered it. The bags contained merchandise in addition to letters
and newspapers, as the Government does a sort of express business
through the post-office, to the great convenience of the public. This
accounted for the large number of vehicles employed. Travellers may
purchase tickets and have their carriages accompany the post, but in so
doing they are liable to a good many extortions. Each convoy is
accompanied by a postilion or guard, who is responsible for its
security; he is usually a soldier, and must be armed to repel robbers.
Sometimes these postilions were so stuck around with pistols that they
resembled travelling arsenals, and must have been very dangerous to
themselves."
Frank asked how many horses were required for the service of the post at
each station.
"The rules require each station-master to keep ten troikas, or thirty
horses, ready for use; many stations had forty or fifty horses each, and
the villages could generally supply any reasonable demand after those in
the station were exhausted. Fourteen _yemshicks_ (drivers) are kept at
every station; they are boarded by the smotretal, and receive about four
dollars each a month, in addition to whatever gratuities they can pick
up. When the post was expected they generally whispered that fact to our
man-servant, so that we could get away as soon as possible. They
preferred our service to that of the post, as we could be relied upon
for gratuities, while none were obtainable from the inanimate bags of
the Government mail.
"Our good road lasted for two days and into the early hours of the
third; then the snow became very thin, and at times we were dragged over
bare ground for considerable distances. From very cold the weather
turned to warm, and threatened to spoil our provisions as well as the
roads.
"Winter is by far the best time for travelling in Siberia, though at
first thought one would suppose the summer preferable. In summer the
weather is hot, there are clouds of dust when no rain falls, and long
stretches of mud when it does; there are swarms and swarms of
mosquitoes, flies, and all sorts of winged things that trouble traveller
and horses to a terrible degree. There is one kind of fly that drives
the horses into a frenzy, so that they sometimes break away from the
carriages or become unmanageable. A Russian gravely told me that this
Siberian horsefly could bite through an iron stove-pipe without hurting
his teeth, but I'm inclined to doubt it.
[Illustration: SOLDIERS IN SIBERIAN FERRY-BOATS.]
"Then, too, there are many streams to be crossed by fording or ferrying,
and often there are long delays at the ferries. Fresh provisions can
only be carried for a day or two at most, and a traveller must load his
vehicle with a liberal stock of canned goods or run the risk of a very
hard time. The frost seals up the rivers, causes the mosquitoes, flies,
dust, mud, and kindred annoyances to disappear, and preserves your
provisions for an indefinite period, except when a 'thaw' comes on. If
you ever make a journey through Siberia, by all means make it in winter.
"The last hundred miles of our ride, from Irkutsk to Krasnoyarsk, was
made over more bare ground than snow. In some places we had five or six
horses to each carriage, and even then our progress was slow.
Fortunately it became cold again, but the sky was cloudless; we longed
for snow to cover the ground and improve the condition of the roads.
"The last morning we took breakfast at a station fifty versts from
Krasnoyarsk, and learned that for the last thirty versts before reaching
the city there was absolutely no snow. Very curiously the snow extended
up to the door of the station, and disappeared not more than a yard
beyond it! Looking one way there was bare ground; looking the other the
road was good for sleighing.
[Illustration: VIEW OF KRASNOYARSK FROM THE OPPOSITE BANK OF THE
YENISEI.]
"Over cakes and tea we arranged our programme, which resulted in the
ladies leaving their vashok until their return to Irkutsk, and riding
into town on a telega. My sleigh and the other were unloaded, the
baggage was piled into telegas, the sleighs were mounted on wagons which
we hired from the peasants, and with very little trouble the whole
difficulty was adjusted. Altogether we were not at the station more than
an hour, and at least half that time was taken for lunch."
Fred asked how it happened that there was good sleighing in one
direction and hardly any snow in the other.
"It is a climatic peculiarity," Mr. Hegeman explained, "and is not
confined to that locality. You remember I mentioned Chetah, the first
provincial capital as you go west from the Amoor River. At Chetah very
little snow falls in the winter, and sometimes for the entire year
wheels must be used. Krasnoyarsk is in the valley of the Yenisei River,
and they told me that very little snow falls within twenty miles of the
town, and in some winters none at all. I must leave the scientific men
to explain it.
"I heard a story at Krasnoyarsk of an Englishman who was travelling
alone through Siberia a few winters before the time of my visit. Finding
no snow there on his arrival, he decided to wait until it fell, and the
roads would be good enough for him to proceed. He waited days and days,
but no snow. The days grew into weeks, and the weeks into months, but
still no snow. He remained sullenly at the hotel or wandered about the
streets; the hotel-keeper did not enlighten him, as he was a good
customer, and the stranger did not seek counsel of any one else. He
might have been there to this day had he not met in the hotel a
fellow-countryman who was travelling eastward. The latter explained the
climatic conditions of the place to his long-detained compatriot, and
then the latter made arrangements for proceeding on his journey.
"Before I forget it," continued Mr. Hegeman, "let me say that the
Russians have several songs in which the delights of sleighing are
described. Here is one of them, which may possibly need the explanation
that the duga is the yoke over the shaft-horse's neck, and Valdai is the
place where the most famous bells of Russia are cast. You already know
that a troika is a team of three horses harnessed abreast--
"'Away, away, along the road,
The fiery troika bounds;
While 'neath the duga, sadly sweet,
The Valdai bell resounds.
"'Away, away, we leave the town,
Its roofs and spires, behind,
The crystal snow-flakes dance around
As o'er the steppe we wind.
"'Away, away, the glittering stars
Shine greeting from above;
Our hearts beat fast as on we glide,
Swift as the flying dove.'
"I will tell you of a sleigh-ride in which there is less poetry than in
the song I have quoted.
"An English gentleman was stopping with some Siberian friends, and one
day it was proposed to take a ride in a sledge. The Englishman had
taken his seat and the driver was about mounting to his place, when the
horses made a sudden start and dragged the reins from the driver's
hands.
[Illustration: A DANGEROUS RIDE.]
"All that the Englishman could do was to hold on, and this he did to the
best of his ability. The horses made straight for a ravine two or three
hundred feet deep; the unfortunate passenger and his friends thought he
was going to certain death, but as they reached the edge of the ravine
the horses whirled about and ran in the opposite direction.
"The sledge in turning was swung over the abyss, and hung for an instant
in the air; the team ran two or three miles before it was stopped by one
of the horses stumbling among some logs. Severely bruised and with his
hand half crushed, the Englishman got out of the sledge, and concluded
he had had all the riding he desired for that day at least."