POSITION AND CHARACTER OF KRASNOYARSK.--A LESSON IN RUSSIAN
PRONUNCIATION.--MARKET SCENE.--SIBERIAN TREES.--THE _OUKHABA_.--A NEW
SENSATION.--ROAD-FEVER AND ITS CAUSE.--AN EXCITING ADVENTURE WITH
WOLVES.--HOW WOLVES ARE HUNTED.--FROM KRASNOYARSK TO TOMSK.--STEAM
NAVIGATION IN SIBERIA.--BARNAOOL.--MINES OF THE ALTAI.--TIGERS AND TIGER
STORIES.--THE _BOURAN_.--ACROSS THE BARABA STEPPE.--TUMEN AND
EKATERINEBURG.--FROM EUROPE TO ASIA.--PERM, KAZAN, AND NIJNI
NOVGOROD.--END OF THE SLEIGH-RIDE.
Frank asked what was meant by the word Krasnoyarsk: was it derived from
a river, a mountain, or did it belong to an individual?
"_Krasnoe_," said Mr. Hegeman, "means 'red,' and Krasnoyarsk gets its
name from the red cliffs of the Yenisei on which it stands. All around
the town the soil is of a reddish hue, and so are the hills that form
the horizon in every direction. The Yenisei is a fine river, one of the
largest in Siberia, and where it passes Krasnoyarsk it is fully half a
mile wide. In summer there are two or three steamboats running to the
Arctic Ocean from a point a little below Krasnoyarsk; rapids and shoals
prevent their coming up to the town. The tributaries of the river are
rich in gold deposits, and many of the residents have grown wealthy by
gold-mining.
"Krasnoyarsk has a population of about twelve thousand, and in a general
way is a sort of pocket edition of Irkutsk. It is the capital of the
province of Yeniseisk, and the centre of trade for a wide extent of
country. Markets, churches, and buildings in general are like those of
Irkutsk, and there is an appearance of prosperity throughout the place."
Fred asked how it happened that the names of nearly all the towns in
Siberia ended in "sk." They had been hearing about Irkutsk, Yeniseisk,
Selenginsk, and he didn't know how many others.
Dr. Bronson came to the young man's relief as follows:
"I think you learned in St. Petersburg that the termination 'sk' is
equivalent to 'of' in English?"
"Certainly," replied Fred, "I learned that 'vitch' means 'son of.' Paul
Ivanovitch, for example, being Paul, son of Ivan. I understand also that
Alexandrovsky was named after Alexander, Petrovski after Peter,
Nicolayevsk after Nicholas, and so on through the list of Russian saints
and emperors. But I've not heard of any distinguished personages with
the names I've just quoted belonging to towns or cities."
[Illustration: BEGGAR AT A SIBERIAN STATION.]
"These Siberian names really assist the memory in a geographical way,"
the Doctor answered, "as they tell us where the town is located.
Selenginsk is on the Selenga River; Irkutsk is on the Irkut, where it
empties into the Angara; Yeniseisk (province) is in the valley of the
Yenisei, and the town of that name is on the river's bank. In the same
way Omsk is on the Om, Tomsk on the Tom, Tobolsk on the Tobol, Irbitsk
on the Irbit, and Kansk on the Kan. The list could be extended to great
length."
"I must make a note of that," said Fred, "as it will be of use to
students of geography in the schools at home. But what hard words they
are to pronounce!"
"They are not as difficult as they seem at first sight," said the
Doctor. "The chief difficulty comes from our knowing they are Russian,
and expecting they will twist our tongues. Three consonants together are
terrible--in Russian; in English they are easy enough."
"I quite agree with you," said Mr. Hegeman. "After I went to America, on
my return from Siberia, many of my friends complained of the
jaw-breaking names of the places I had visited, and declared they never
could speak them. A lady of my acquaintance tried in vain to pronounce
Irkutsk; its three consonants, _t_, _s_, and _k_, were too much for her,
but she had not the slightest difficulty in asking me about the fasts
and feasts of the Church. The _s_, _t_, and _s_ of 'fasts' and 'feasts'
are consonants, and just as difficult of pronunciation as the others;
but the one set is Russian and the other 'English, you know.'
"Let me suggest an easy way of wrestling with the Russian terminals
_tsk_, _nsk_, _msk_, and the like:
"If you're struggling with Irkutsk take the word 'coot,' which is
perfectly familiar to you. Put an _s_ to it and make 'coots,' and then a
_k_ to that and make 'cootsk' or 'kutsk.' With the prefix _er_ you have
the capital of Eastern Siberia before you.
"In the same way dispose of Kansk by building up the word 'can' till you
have reached the end. The other terminals which seem so difficult may be
rendered perfectly innocuous to the organs of speech if kindly and
intelligently treated.
"To return to Krasnoyarsk and its snowless district.
"A description of the place, its buildings, markets, and other features
would be nearly a repetition of that of Irkutsk, but on a smaller scale.
In the market I was particularly interested in the character and
abundance of the fish offered for sale. Among them were pike, sturgeon,
perch, and others with which I was familiar, and there was one fish
which closely resembled the smelt. Another that I had never before seen
had a bill resembling that of a duck and a long and thin body. All these
fishes came from the Yenisei or its tributaries; some of them dwell
permanently in the river, and others ascend in the summer from the
Arctic Ocean.
"There is a fish called _omulli_ by the Russians, and evidently a member
of the trout family. It lives in the smaller streams of Siberia, and
furnishes a caviar that is greatly prized. The omulli's caviar is of a
golden color, and quite in contrast with the black caviar made from the
roe of the sturgeon.
"The Yenisei at Krasnoyarsk has a swift current, and resembles the
Mississippi at St. Louis, according to the descriptions they gave me. Of
course I could not verify the statement, as the river was frozen over at
the time of my visit. The width and volume of the Yenisei gave interest
to a story which was told by one of the residents:
[Illustration: POLICEMAN AT KRASNOYARSK.]
"One of the good citizens of Krasnoyarsk had been attending a wedding on
the other side of the river, and started for home rather late at night,
with the intention of reaching the ferry about daylight. He was in a
telega drawn by two horses; on the way from the wedding he fell asleep,
and the horses took their own course. When they reached the river they
were doubtless hungry, and impatient to return to their stable. The
ferry-boat was on the other side, and the animals did not choose to
wait. They plunged in and started across; the telega, being wholly of
wood, had sufficient buoyancy to keep it afloat, but the occupant was
awakened by the cold bath. Though frightened half to death, he had the
good sense to lie perfectly still and make the best of the situation;
the hardy beasts took him safely over, but he never cared to repeat the
adventure. The few individuals that saw him coming in the early daylight
could hardly believe their eyes; and one, at least, thought it was
Neptune in his chariot ascending the waters of the Yenisei."
"Another illustration of the excellence of the horses of Siberia," said
Fred. "I long to travel in that country, and have the experience of
riding behind them."
Frank asked Mr. Hegeman if there were any high mountains in the
neighborhood of Krasnoyarsk.
[Illustration: HILLS NEAR A SIBERIAN RIVER.]
"There are not," was the reply, "only some low hills and rounded peaks
that do not rise to the height and dignity of mountains. I believe most
geographers are agreed on applying the term 'mountain' only to
elevations of fifteen hundred feet and more, everything below that
figure being called a hill. Under this restriction there are no
mountains on the road through Siberia between Lake Baikal and the Ural
range. Most of the country is flat and uninteresting; sometimes it is a
perfectly level plain, and in other places it is undulating like a
rolling prairie in Kansas or Nebraska. Along the rivers it is broken by
ranges of hills, but as soon as you go back from the rivers you come to
the plain again.
"Hour after hour, and day after day, we rode over this monotonous
country, the landscape, or rather snowscape, presenting very little to
attract the eye. This feature of the country makes the Siberian journey
a dreary one, not unlike the journey from the Missouri River to the
Rocky Mountains before the days of the transcontinental railway."
Fred asked if this level part of Siberia was treeless like many portions
of our Western country.
"There is a vast amount of treeless land," said Mr. Hegeman, in response
to the inquiry, "but it is not all of that sort. There are many forests
of birch, pine, spruce, and larch. In some localities birch is the only
wood for building purposes, in others larch, and in others pine or
spruce. Other Siberian trees are willow, fir, poplar, elm, and maple.
Central and Southern Siberia are well wooded, but the farther we go
towards the north the fewer trees do we find. The plains bordering the
Arctic Ocean are treeless; the poplar disappears at 60° north latitude,
the birch at 63°, and the pine and larch at 64°."
"I thought I had read about a species of cedar that grows over the
plains to the far North," said the Doctor, "and that it serves to make
that region habitable by furnishing fuel for the natives."
"I was about to mention the trailing cedar," said Mr. Hegeman. "The
Russians call it _kedrevnik_, and some of the native tribes regard it as
a special gift of Providence. It spreads on the ground like a vine, and
has needles and cones similar to those of the cedar; the trunks are
gnarled and twisted, very difficult to cut or split, but vastly
preferable to no wood at all. Thousands of miles of country are covered
with the trailing cedar, and in winter it is found by digging in the
snow.
"On leaving Krasnoyarsk," continued Mr. Hegeman, "I travelled with a
gentleman who had been northward to the shores of the Arctic Ocean
during the previous summer, he accompanying me in my sleigh, while his
own was occupied by a servant and a goodly amount of baggage. For thirty
miles there was no snow, and so we mounted our sleighs on wagons and
sent them to the beginning of the snow road, while we followed in a
telega a few hours after their departure. We overtook them just at the
beginning of the snow road, and were glad enough to change from the
telega. The vehicle had no springs, and we were shaken in it worse than
if tossed in a blanket. The frozen ground was rough, and reminded me of
a nutmeg-grater on a Brobdingnagian scale.
"We had started with the intention of overtaking the sleighs before
sunset, but our slow progress over the rough roads had so delayed us
that the evening was well advanced before our destination was reached.
The transfer of baggage was made in the moonlight; one or two small
articles disappeared in the operation, but whether stolen or
accidentally lost we never knew.
[Illustration: JUMPING AN "OUKHABA."]
"In Irkutsk I had been told that a new sensation awaited me in the
Siberian _oukhaba_, and I found it on the first night's travelling after
leaving Krasnoyarsk. What do you suppose it was?"
Both the youths shook their heads and said they didn't know, while
Doctor Bronson preserved a discreet silence.
"The oukhaba of the Siberian road," Mr. Hegeman explained, "is the
equivalent of the 'hog-wallow' of the American one; the former is formed
in the snow, and the latter in the bare ground. It is caused by the snow
lying in drifts or ridges when it is blown by the wind, and also by the
roads being worn with much travel. The road is a succession of ridges
and hollows; the drivers go at full speed, without the slightest regard
to the pitching and tossing of the sleigh, and the result is a severe
trial of one's nerves. The motion causes a rush of blood to one's head,
and develops what the Russians call 'the road-fever.'
"I did not escape the road-fever, and to this day I shudder when
thinking of this part of my experience, the most disagreeable feature of
the journey. My body was sore and stiff; at every jolt it seemed as
though the top of my head would fly off; sleep was next to impossible;
and when I did manage to slumber, my dreams were something frightful. My
temper was spoiled, and a quarrel might have been created with anything
and anybody without the least effort. The fever runs its course in two
or three days, but may last longer; as long as the roads are bad the
inexperienced traveller is liable to it. Sometimes the sleigh made a
clear jump of five or six feet, and the wonder was that the vehicle did
not go to pieces and leave us hopelessly wrecked."
Fred asked if any wolves were seen in this part of the journey or
elsewhere in Siberia.
"Occasionally we saw wolves," was the reply, "but not often. There are
plenty of wolves in Siberia, but they have enough to live upon in the
game that abounds everywhere, so that they are not likely to attack
travellers. Siberian and American wolves are much alike, but the former
are said to be larger and fiercer than their American cousins.
"I can tell you some wolf stories, but they do not belong to Siberia. It
is only in Western Russia and in Poland that travellers are attacked by
wolves, and then only in the severest winters, when game is very scarce
and hunger has made the animals desperate."
"Please tell us one of those stories," said Frank. "I have read accounts
of men being chased by wolves, but have just now forgotten what they
were."
The request was echoed by Fred, and Mr. Hegeman kindly gratified their
wish.
"To begin with," said he, "the horses are the object of attack and not
the men in the vehicle; but of course when the horses are overpowered
the wolves make no distinction and devour everything edible. When
desperate they will venture to the farm-yards to kill sheep and cattle.
Their favorite article of food, other than wild game, is a pig, and the
squealing of a pig is an appeal that no hungry wolf can resist.
[Illustration: WOLVES ATTACKING A BUFFALO.]
"Advantage of this propensity is taken by those who go out to hunt the
wolf for amusement. On a moonlight night two hunters go out with an open
sledge drawn by two horses; they carry their guns, with plenty of
ammunition, a pig tied by the feet, and a bag of hay, together with furs
and robes to keep them warm. When they reach the middle of the forest
where the wolves abound, the horses' heads are turned towards home, the
bag of hay, fastened to a rope from twenty to forty feet long, is thrown
out, and the pig's ear is pinched until the poor creature squeals in his
loudest tones. If a wolf is within hearing he comes at once, and if
there are other wolves they follow him and his example. The pig's ear is
continually twisted; the squealing resounds through the forest, and when
the wolves come in sight they mistake the bag of hay for the animal they
seek. They rush for it, and as they come within range are shot down.
The sleigh does not stop to pick up the game, but continues its course
at a walk or slow trot, provided the driver can restrain the
terror-stricken horses. The next day the dead wolves, if any, are
gathered for the sake of their skins.
"Sometimes a dozen or more wolves will be killed in this way in a single
night, but more frequently the hunters return empty-handed. Sometimes
the wolves come in great numbers, and with so much fierceness that the
hunters are obliged to flee for their lives--not always successfully.
"And now comes the wolf story I promised; it was told to me by a Russian
officer some years ago, and I will endeavor to give it as nearly as
possible in his own words. Imagine that he is talking to you as he
talked to me:
"'I was stopping for a part of the winter at the house of a
fellow-officer near Vilna, where he had a large estate. His name was
Selmanoff, and he was noted for his excellent horsemanship and his love
for all kinds of hunting sport.
"'The winter was one of the worst that had been known for a long while,
and two or three times we heard of travellers through the forest having
been pursued by wolves. Of course this led to a wolf hunt, which
Selmanoff proposed and I heartily accepted.
"We made our preparations, selecting a broad sledge open all around, and
formed of wicker-work, so that it was light as well as strong. We
carried two short, smooth-bore guns of large calibre--rifles are not
desirable on these hunts, as it is impossible to take accurate aim from
the moving sledge in the moonlight. The guns were breech-loaders, and
the charge was a heavy one of buck-shot and ball.
"We had two horses, young and powerful beasts, and the driver was one of
the best on the estate. After dining heartily we started about sunset
and drove some twenty miles or so into the middle of the forest, over a
good road which had been trodden by the peasants carrying their produce
to the market at the nearest town. Our decoy pig lay quietly among the
furs, and gave no sign of his presence save an occasional grunt of
dissatisfaction at his uncomfortable position.
[Illustration: A SIBERIAN WOLF.]
"'At the spot where the hunt was to begin we turned about and threw out
our bag of hay; then we twisted the pig's ear and he protested with a
loud squeal.
"'An answering howl came from the forest, and seemingly not a dozen
yards away. Another howl and another followed quickly, and then the air
was full of them.
"'In a minute or so a dark form was revealed on the snow behind us, and
making straight for the hay-bag. Selmanoff gave me the first fire, and I
took it. The wolf fell at my shot just as he was within a few yards of
the bag.
[Illustration: SUMMER AND WINTER IN RUSSIA.]
"'But another came, and then another, and in a few minutes there were a
dozen or more in sight. We shot them as fast as they came within range,
but the numbers did not diminish. The shooting and the howling of the
wolves frightened the horses, and the driver had a difficult task to
restrain them.
"'As the wolves increased in number, we saw we were in danger; the
extent of the pack was far beyond our expectation, and the
long-continued hunger of the brutes had made them very fierce. The
shooting of one after another did not seem to restrain their ardor in
the least; those that were untouched by our shot dashed madly ahead, and
showed a determination to appease their hunger at all hazards.
"'Selmanoff told the driver to increase the speed of the horses. He gave
the order not a moment too soon. Just as the horses were put to a
gallop, several wolves sprang from the forest at our side, and if we had
been going slowly they would have easily reached the sleigh. As it was,
we passed within a few feet of them, and their howls of angry
disappointment rang in our ears.
"'We cut the rope that held the hay-bag; it detained our pursuers only a
few moments, as they quickly discovered it was not what they wanted.
"'On they came again. We loaded and fired as fast as we could; there was
no occasion to take accurate aim, as the road behind us was fairly
filled with wolves, and it was quite sufficient to point our guns at the
dark mass revealed against the snow.
"'We had made six or eight miles on our return, when an additional
danger that threatened us was suggested by my friend. There was a sharp
angle in the road a mile or so ahead of us, and, at the pace we were
proceeding, the sledge would certainly be upset in going around the
angle. As we approached the point of peril we ceased firing, laid our
guns among the furs, ordered the speed of the horses to be slackened--no
easy thing to accomplish--and then both of us hung out as far as
possible on the inner side of the sledge, to keep it from going over.
"'As we made the turn the sledge was poised for some distance on one of
its runners, and if we had not taken all the precautions I have named,
it would have gone over. From this point was a clear and comparatively
straight run homeward of ten or twelve miles, and the horses were put to
their best work. They had no need of urging, as they knew the danger
that threatened as well as we did.
"'One horse stumbled and fell; he was up in an instant, but not before
the wolves had actually reached the sledge. One of them jumped directly
at it, but as he did so I pressed the muzzle of my gun to his head and
fired. Another sprang upon the fallen horse as he was rising to his
feet, but was shaken off before he obtained a good hold with his fangs.
"'The servants of the chateau heard us coming at full speed and our
rapid firing. They knew something was the matter, and as we neared the
house they began shouting and waving lanterns. The wolves slackened
their speed and gave up the chase, but not until we were within a
hundred yards of safety.
[Illustration: VILLAGE ON A RUSSIAN ESTATE.]
"'We dashed into the court-yard, the gates were closed, and then
Selmanoff and I, both fainting from exhaustion after our terrible ride,
were assisted from the sledge and into the house. You may be sure that
since then I have never wished to undertake a wolf-hunt of this sort.'"
"An excellent story," said Frank. "It is certainly better than those
wherein people are obliged to draw lots to see who shall be sacrificed
to the wolves in order that the others may escape."
"I agree with you," said Fred. "There's quite enough of the sensational
in having everybody get away safely after an exciting run, instead of
being eaten up by their pursuers. If only the wolves are killed it is
all right, as they are enemies of the human race, and do no good to any
one except to furnish skins for sleigh-robes, rugs, and other useful or
ornamental things."
It was agreed unanimously that the best known use for a wolf was to
convert his skin into something of the kind described. When this
decision had been reached, the conversation reverted to the sleigh-ride
through Siberia.
"We left the road in pursuit of wolves, while travelling westward from
Krasnoyarsk," said Mr. Hegeman.
"Jumping oukhabas," suggested one of the youths.
"Yes, that was it exactly. Well, we jumped oukhabas, rode over bare
ground, were caught in a snow-storm, and had a tough time generally till
we reached Tomsk, the next provincial capital. It takes its name from
the river Tom on which it stands, and is a prosperous place with about
twenty thousand inhabitants.
"As at Irkutsk, there are many wealthy merchants in the city, and also a
fair number of citizens who have made fortunes by mining for gold. The
houses are spacious and well-built, and there is a large 'gymnasium,'
or high-school, for boys, and an 'institute,' or high-school, for girls.
Many private teachers find employment in rich families who prefer
educating their children at home. Tomsk may be regarded as the most
important place in Siberia next to Irkutsk.
"There is a line of water communication between Tomsk and Tumen, a
thousand miles to the westward, but of course it is only available in
summer. Fifteen or twenty steamboats are engaged in the traffic; they
descend the Tom to the Ob, and the Ob to the Irtish, which they ascend
to the Tobol. Then they follow the Tobol to the Tura, and the Tura to
Tumen. With barges in tow, the journey occupies twelve days; without
them it is made in a week. Travellers are so few that it does not pay to
run boats for passengers alone, and all the boats in use when I was
there were mainly for freight purposes, and had limited space for
passengers. If you look at the map of Siberia, you will see that it
possesses an excellent system of water communication.
[Illustration: A SLIGHT MISHAP.]
"The only navigation of the Tom that I saw was by a native who had
fallen through a hole in the ice and just crawled out. He stood dripping
on the edge for a moment, as though uncertain what to do; then,
evidently realizing his danger, he sprang on his sledge and rode away,
to reach home before he was frozen solid.
"At the suggestion of my companion we decided to go to Barnaool, which
lies about three hundred miles south of the main road, and is the centre
of the Russian mining region of the Altai Mountains. We remained a day
at Tomsk, in order to see the Governor and obtain his permission to
leave our route, which was readily granted.
"We started in the evening, and forty-four hours later drove into
Barnaool and alighted at the hotel. An officer who left Tomsk a few
hours in advance of us, kindly notified the station-masters of our
approach, and thus caused them to have horses in readiness. If he had
not done so we should have been seriously delayed, as the regulations
require only three troikas to be kept at the stations on the side road,
while ten are maintained along the great route. For the last part of the
way the drivers took us to houses of their friends instead of going to
the post-stations. The peasants through Siberia have a good many horses,
and are glad to earn money in this way by transporting travellers.
[Illustration: SUMMER VIEW NEAR BARNAOOL.]
"Barnaool is a prosperous town, depending partly upon the gold-mining
interest, and partly upon trade with the Kirghese and other people of
Central Asia. It has a Club, a Geographical Society, a large and
interesting museum, together with smelting-works, factories, and
machine-shops connected with the mining interests. Social conversation
has a good deal to do with gold and silver and other precious things,
and in summer many of the officials are absent at the mining
establishments in the mountains. The society is similar to that of
Irkutsk, and fully as accomplished and hospitable. They told me I was
the first American that had ever been in Barnaool, and I was most
heartily welcomed and made to feel at home.
"One day a gentleman invited me to call at his house, and said his
daughters were under the impression that Americans were black. 'I will
not undeceive them,' said he, 'and if they appear astonished when they
see you, you will understand it.'
"When I called at the house and was presented to the family, I was
immediately surrounded by three or four little girls, and they looked
with great curiosity at my face. Finally one of them sidled up to her
mother and said something, of which I caught the words, '_Nee chorney_'
("Not black")."
After Frank and Fred had laughed over this little anecdote, their
informant explained that the impression that Americans were black was
not confined to the family of this gentleman at the foot of the Altai
Mountains. He said he had been told of it on several occasions, not only
in Siberia but in European Russia; but it was almost always confined to
the lower class of people, or to children who had received their
information from servants.
"I had an odd experience of this impression about our national color a
few years ago," said Doctor Bronson. "It was in a small city of Austria
where strangers do not often penetrate, and our countrymen are not as
well known as in Vienna and Paris.
"I was making a purchase in a shop, and while chatting with the
saleswoman she asked my nationality. I told her I was an American. She
shook her head doubtingly, and said she thought I must be an Englishman,
as I 'didn't look like an American.'
"'Why don't I look like an American?' I asked.
"'There was an American gentleman here a few months ago,' said she, 'and
he was just as black as your hat.'
"I didn't follow the topic further," said Doctor Bronson, "but concluded
to let her have her own opinion about my national complexion."
"One of the most interesting things I saw at Barnaool," said Mr.
Hegeman, resuming the subject of conversation, "was the Government
Museum. I spent the greater part of a day there, and only had time to
glance over the admirable collection. There is a mining department which
contains models of all the machinery used in gold-mining, and in many
instances the machines themselves. Some of the machines are nearly a
hundred years old, and almost identical with those in use to-day. There
is a letter from the Empress Elizabeth, bearing her autograph, giving
directions about the working of the mines in her time; it is kept in an
ivory box on the table around which the Mining Board holds its sessions.
The first discoveries of precious metals in the Altai region were made
by one of the Demidoffs, who was sent there by Peter the Great. A
monument in the public square of Barnaool records his services and keeps
his memory green.
"There are models of mines similar to those in the Mining School at St.
Petersburg, so that the student can see what kind of work is before him.
They showed me a steam-engine which is said to have been made at
Barnaool in 1764, for the purpose of blowing the furnaces; the director
of the museum claimed that it was on the principle adopted by James Watt
in 1765, and therefore, he argued, the credit of the improvement upon
the old engine of Newcomen should be given to Siberia rather than to
Scotland.
[Illustration: ATTACKED BY A TIGER.]
"Very interesting was the collection of natural history, which included
the skins of two enormous tigers killed a few years before in one of the
Southern districts of Western Siberia. Both these tigers had histories,
and were supposed to be murderers; one of them fell after a long fight
in which he killed one of his assailants and wounded two others. The
other tiger had sprung upon a man who was riding one horse and leading
another; the man escaped by leaving the led horse for the tiger to
devour. He rode to the nearest village where he could obtain weapons and
assistance, and then returned to the locality of the attack. Carefully
creeping through the tall grass, he found the tiger busy over his meal;
every few moments he raised his head and paused to listen for the sound
of approaching footsteps, but so cautiously did the hunter proceed that
he was not heard.
"He managed to get within ten yards of the ferocious beast, and then by
a well-directed shot stretched him on the ground. The fame he obtained
for his prowess, and the money from the sale of the skin to the museum,
compensated him for the loss of the horse, but it must be remembered
that he ran a great risk in searching for the tiger as he did.
[Illustration: BEARCOOTS AND WOLVES.]
"There were in the museum some fine specimens (stuffed) of the bearcoot,
an enormous eagle of the Altai Mountains. It is considerably larger than
the American eagle, and strong enough to kill easily a deer or a wolf.
The Kirghese tame these eagles and employ them for hunting purposes,
just as hawks were employed in England centuries ago. A bearcoot will
swoop down upon a full-grown deer and kill him in a few minutes; a deer
running at full speed can be overtaken by a bearcoot in a course of
little more than a mile, when he has the advantage of fully a mile at
the start.
"Sometimes when a pack of wolves has run down a deer and killed it, a
pair of bearcoots will appear and take possession of the game. Two
bearcoots are a match for a dozen wolves, and the latter acknowledge
their inferiority by getting out of the way immediately.
"Some experiments on the power of the bearcoot to resist poison were
made at Barnaool shortly before my visit. Half a grain of curara (deadly
poison from Brazil) had no effect beyond increasing the bird's appetite.
Four grains of strychnine caused his feathers to tremble fifteen minutes
after swallowing the stuff, and five hours later threw him into
convulsions from which he recovered next day. A week later seven grains
of curara had no effect upon him for two days; then he went into
convulsions, which lasted several hours and ended with his death.
[Illustration: THE STEPPE IN SUMMER.]
"But we are staying too long at Barnaool, and must go to the road again.
From Barnaool we went northward and westward to Tumen over the great
Baraba Steppe; it is but a steppe from one place to the other, but the
distance is a thousand miles, and we were a week in making it. We were
caught in a _bouran_, or storm, analagous to the Texas norther or the
_bora_ of Trieste. The wind blew violently, the snow whirled in blinding
masses; the road was so buried that several times we lost our way, and
finally concluded it safest to wait at a station till the storm was
over. Happily we were not long delayed.
"In summer these _bourans_ or _ouragans_ (a word which is probably of
the same origin as _hurricane_) are sometimes so severe that they sweep
dry the bed of a small river in a few minutes, and create large clouds
of dust as they pass over the land. The one we encountered was from the
south, and therefore warm. A northern _bouran_ in winter is something
terrific, as the thermometer goes very low and the intense cold added to
the wind is destructive to animal life. Men and horses have been lost in
these _bourans_, and I was cautioned not to venture to face them if I
could avoid doing so.
"Many Tartars live on the Baraba Steppe, but we saw few of them, as we
changed horses at the houses of the Russian peasants. There was formerly
a very small population of Russians on the steppe between Tumen and
Tomsk; the Governor-general of Siberia persuaded Catherine the Great to
give him all the conscripts of a levy instead of sending them to the
army. He settled them with their families in villages along the route
across the steppe, and the present population consists of the
descendants of these people, together with exiles and voluntary
emigrants of the present century.
"Grain is produced in abundance on the steppe. Wheat, rye, and oats are
often as low as ten or twenty cents a bushel, as there is no market for
produce beyond what can be sold to travellers. A railway is one of the
hopes of the future, and when it comes the steppe will be prosperous. A
great deal of hemp and flax is raised there; I bought about sixty feet
of half-inch rope for thirty cents at one station, and afterwards
learned that I paid too much. Our harness was constantly breaking, and
every few days it was necessary to buy a quantity of rope for purposes
of repair. A Russian mujik will perform wonders of harness-mending if
you give him plenty of rope.
"I will not weary you with describing in detail the rest of the long
sleigh-ride. Through Tumen we went without delay, and from that place to
Ekaterineburg we had no incident of consequence. At Ekaterineburg we
stopped a day, and passed several hours among the shops devoted to the
sale of semi-precious stones, which are cut into all sorts of fantastic
shapes. The town is as famous for these things as is Cologne for the
perfumed spirit that bears its name, Naples for coral, or Benares for
brass-ware. More than a thousand workmen are engaged by private
employers or by the Government in this industry. The _Granilnoi Fabric_,
or Government Lapidary Establishment, was closed at the time of my
visit, which happened during Christmas week. I understand it has since
been sold, and is now in private hands.
[Illustration: SPECIMEN OF ROCK-CRYSTAL.]
"Itinerant dealers in the streets offer the cut crystals to strangers,
and the waiters at the hotels have stocks of them for sale. The
collections at the dealers are a bewildering array of amethyst, beryl,
topaz, tourmaline, chalcedony, jasper, aquamarine, malachite, quartz,
and other stones. There are seals, paper-weights, beads, vases,
statuettes, brooches, buttons, charms, and an endless variety of
ornamental things.
"There were imitations of leaves, flowers, and grapes tastefully
arranged together, and formed of differently colored stones; there were
miniature caves and grottos in which the stones were artistically
grouped; and there were busts of the Emperor of Russia and other high
personages in the Empire, together with busts of the reigning sovereigns
of Europe. Learning that I was an American, the proprietor of one
establishment showed me a half-finished bust of President Lincoln cut in
topaz and about six inches high.
"We left Ekaterineburg one evening, and about midnight passed the ridge
of the Ural Mountains and entered European Russia. The Urals at this
point are a succession of low hills covered with fir-trees, and as you
look at the range from Ekaterineburg you would not suspect you were in
the neighborhood of mountains. North and south of this point the
mountains become more steep, but they nowhere attain to great heights.
All this part of the Urals is rich in minerals; there are extensive
mines of iron, copper, and gold, those of iron being of the greatest,
and the gold-mines of the least importance.
"A very large part of all the iron used in Russia comes from the Urals,
and the same is the case with the copper. The copper-money of the Empire
is coined at the _Moneta Fabric_, or mint, at Ekaterineburg, and from an
immense foundery a few miles away comes the Russian sheet-iron which is
so popular in America for the manufacture of parlor stoves and
stove-pipe. The Urals contain the only mines where malachite is found
in quantities of any consequence, and when you look at a piece of this
beautiful oxide of copper you can be almost absolutely certain that it
came from the neighborhood of Ekaterineburg. A mass of malachite
weighing more than four hundred tons was found there about the middle of
the present century, the largest single piece ever discovered.
[Illustration: MONUMENT AT THE BOUNDARY.]
"At the boundary between European and Asiatic Russia there is a stone
monument with the word EUROPE on one side and ASIA on the other. It is
only seventeen hundred feet above the level of the sea, and was erected
to commemorate the visit of the Emperor Alexander I. to his Siberian
dominions. I stepped from the sleigh and stood for a few moments with a
foot in either continent, but though I made careful observation I could
not discover any difference between the soil, climate, productions,
manners, customs, or social conditions of the Occident and Orient of the
Old World.
[Illustration: WESTERN SLOPE OF THE URAL MOUNTAINS.]
"Down the Western slope of the Urals we drove as fast as our horses
could carry us, making brief halts to change horses at the stations,
jumping oukhabas that threatened to shake us and our vehicles to pieces,
repelling the advances of beggars that solicited us at every
stopping-place, riding sometimes for many miles at a time between double
rows of birch-trees which the Government has planted to mark the roads
and prevent the snow from drifting, and now and then coming temporarily
to grief through the breaking of our harness. We found the stations more
numerous and more commodious than in Asiatic Russia, the country more
densely peopled, and as the days of fasting had given way to days of
feasting, we found an abundance of provisions wherever we stopped. We
carried now only our tea and sugar, as everything else was easy to
procure.
"We passed through Perm at night and in a snow-storm, and my
recollections of the place are consequently few. From Kazan my road lay
along the frozen surface of the Volga to Nijni Novgorod, where the
sleigh-ride was to terminate.
"Sometimes the sleigh was left on the ice of the river while the drivers
went to the station on the bank to change horses, and sometimes it was
driven up the sloping road and then down again. Going up was all right,
but descending was occasionally perilous.
[Illustration: DESCENDING A HILL SIDE ROAD.]
"The sleigh manifested a tendency to go faster than the horses; there
was usually no protecting wall or rail at the outer edge of the slope,
and more than once we narrowly escaped being pitched down a steep cliff
of frozen earth to the solid ice fifty or a hundred feet below. At such
times the way of safety lay in forcing the horses ahead, in the hope
that they would overcome the sideling motion of the sleigh. As there was
a chance that they might stumble, and throw horses, sleigh, passengers,
baggage, and driver all in a heap, the alternative was nearly as bad as
the preliminary danger.
[Illustration: BAPTIZING THROUGH THE ICE.]
"On the 6th of January we passed several places where baptizings through
the ice were in progress. This is one of the days that the Church
consecrates to baptismal ceremonies, and throughout the Empire many
thousands of devout worshippers are plunged into the icy water. We did
not stop to witness the ceremony, but caught a glimpse of a priest
reading from a book, while another was holding by the hands a man whose
head just rose above the surface of the water. As fast as the baptized
ones emerged from the hole through the ice they ran rapidly to the
village, a short distance away.
"There at last are the domes of Nijni Novgorod, and there I say farewell
to my sleigh.
[Illustration: END OF THE SLEIGH-RIDE.]
"I have passed two hundred and nine stations, with as many changes of
horses and drivers. More than seven hundred horses have been attached to
my sleigh, and drawn me over a road of all degrees of goodness and
badness. In forty days from Irkutsk I have spent sixteen in the towns
and villages on the way. I have slept twenty-six nights in my sleigh,
with the thermometer varying all the way from 35° above zero to 44°
below, and have passed through four severe storms and perhaps a dozen
small ones.
"Including the detour to Barnaool, my sleigh-ride was thirty-six hundred
miles long. From Stratensk around by Kiachta to Irkutsk I travelled
about fourteen hundred miles in wheeled vehicles, so that altogether my
land journey from the steamboat at Stratensk to the railway at Nijni
covers a distance of five thousand miles.
"And now," said Mr. Hegeman, in conclusion, "if you want to cross
Siberia you can do it more easily than when I made the journey. From
Perm, which you can reach by steamboat in summer, there is a railway to
Ekaterineburg, and it will shortly be finished to Tumen, if it is not
already.[6] From Tumen take a steamboat to Tomsk, if you don't mind
roughing it a little, and from Tomsk your land journey need not be
terrifying. You can easily make out the rest of the route by taking my
own in reverse. Whether you descend the Amoor or cross the Desert of
Gobi to Peking, you will have enough of novelty to compensate you for
the fatigue."
[6] Since the above was written, the author has received a letter from
M. Nicolai Ostrowski, Director of the Ural Railway, which says, "Since
October 1, 1878, Perm and Ekaterineburg have been united by the Ural
Railway. Since January 1, 1886, trains have been running regularly
between Ekaterineburg and Tumen. A line is under construction from
Samara to Ufa, which will probably be extended to Ekaterineburg or
Tcheliabinsk, to form a direct line in the direction of Omsk, the
capital of Occidental Siberia."
The youths thanked Mr. Hegeman most heartily for the entertaining
account he had given them of his journey through Siberia. Doctor Bronson
added his acknowledgment to that of the youths, and the thoughts of the
party were again turned to what was occurring around them.