FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN TO THE YELLOW SEA.
NOTE.
I am indebted to the proprietors of the _Illustrated London News_ for
their kind permission to reproduce in this work the sketches and drawings
I made for them whilst on my journey, a great many of which have already
appeared in that paper; and also for the use of the text accompanying
them, which has formed the basis of this work.
[Illustration: Your’s faithfully
Julius M. Price
_From a photograph by Alfred Ellis. Sampson Low, Marston & Co. Ltd.
Héliog Lemercier & Cie Paris._]
FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
TO THE YELLOW SEA.
_THE NARRATIVE OF A JOURNEY,
IN 1890 AND 1891, ACROSS SIBERIA, MONGOLIA,
THE GOBI DESERT, AND NORTH CHINA._
BY
JULIUS M. PRICE, F.R.G.S.,
_Special Artist of the “Illustrated London News.”_
WITH ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY-TWO ILLUSTRATIONS
FROM SKETCHES BY THE AUTHOR.
[Illustration]
NEW YORK:
CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS,
743 AND 745, BROADWAY.
1892.
Before leaving Siberia, probably for ever, I am desirous of recording
my gratitude for the assistance afforded me and the many kindnesses I
received during the winter I spent there. From the highest officials to
the humblest _employé_, the courtesy I was shown on all occasions was so
great, that in all my varied experiences of travel I remember nothing
to equal it; and if it is the same all over this mighty empire, I trust
that my wanderings will lead me some day into Greater Russia itself.
Amongst the many gentlemen to whom I owe a special debt of gratitude.
I may mention Mr. E. Wostrotine, in Yeniseisk; General Telakoffsky,
Dr. Peacock, and Messrs. Cheripanoff, Matwieff, and Kusnitsoff, in
Krasnoiarsk; General Grimiken, M. Soukatchoff, and Mr. Charles Lee, in
Irkutsk; and M. Feodroff and M. Shollingen, in Ourga.
J. M. P.
PREFACE.
A few introductory remarks are, I feel, necessary, if only to give the
_raison d’être_ of my journey, and as a sort of apology for adding to the
already formidable array of books of Asiatic travel.
The celebrated voyage of Captain Wiggins in 1887, when he successfully
accomplished the feat of navigating a steamer (the _Phœnix_) across the
Kara Sea and up the river Yenisei to the city of Yeniseisk, is too well
remembered for it to be necessary for me to recapitulate an exploit which
is destined to become historic, solving as it did the much-vexed question
of the practicability of establishing commercial relations between
England and Siberia viâ the Arctic Ocean and the Kara Sea.
This successful expedition, opening up such immense possibilities,
naturally encouraged its financial promoters to follow it up by another
and much more important one. Towards the end of July in the following
year, therefore, the _Labrador_, a powerful wooden steamer specially
built for Arctic work, was despatched to the mouth of the Yenisei with
a cargo of “all sorts,” with which to try the Siberian market; the
_Phœnix_, which had been laid up for the winter at Yeniseisk, being
commissioned to proceed down the river and fetch back the cargo brought
out by the _Labrador_, the latter vessel being too large to be able to
get such a distance from the estuary. For all this, special permission
had naturally to be got from the Russian Government; but so far from
making any objections or putting any obstacles in the way of the
scheme, the officials, advised of course from head-quarters, lent every
assistance in their power and showed a most friendly spirit. Through a
diversity of causes, into which it is not necessary to enter here, the
expedition failed to accomplish its purpose, and the _Labrador_ returned
to England without having crossed the Kara Sea at all. An ordinary man
would have been discouraged, at any rate for a time, by such a failure;
but Wiggins is not of that stuff. Nothing daunted, he at once began
trying to raise “the sinews of war” for a fresh expedition, and was so
successful (such confidence had his friends in him), that the following
year the _Labrador_ once again started for the far North-East—but only to
meet with another failure, though this time the failure, it was proved
afterwards, could have been easily averted. In fact, so conclusively
was this proved, that, emboldened with the knowledge of how near it had
been to being a success, a syndicate of rich and influential London men
was without difficulty got together, and it was at once decided that two
ships should be sent out the following year, and that everything possible
should be done to ensure success. This time there were no half-hearted
measures; money was forthcoming, and with it a renewed enthusiasm in the
scheme, which, I may add parenthetically, helped not a little to bring
about its eventually satisfactory result; this notwithstanding the fact
that the expedition started handicapped by the untoward absence (owing to
his having met with shipwreck on his way to join us) of Captain Wiggins,
the leading spirit of the project.
Talking about Russia one morning with Mr. Ingram at the office of the
_Illustrated London News_, he suddenly suggested my going out as their
“special artist” with this expedition. The love of travel and the spirit
of adventure are so strong in me, that without the slightest hesitation
I eagerly caught at the idea; in fact, had he suggested my riding across
the Sahara on a bicycle I should probably have jumped at it with just as
much alacrity.
Well, to cut a long story short, after a lot of correspondence had passed
between us, the “Anglo-Siberian Trading Syndicate” agreed to take me,
subject to certain restrictions as to publication of sketches and matter
relating to the expedition, and to land me eventually, if all went well,
at the city of Yeniseisk, in the heart of Siberia. On my taking a map of
the route down to the office, and asking Mr. Ingram where I was to go if
I ever found myself there, “You can go wherever you like, so long as you
send us plenty of interesting sketches for the paper,” was his generous
reply. With liberty, therefore, to roam all over the world, so to speak,
and with unlimited time and plenty of means at my disposal, I started on
a journey, the narrative of which I now venture to put in print, in the
hope that at any rate some parts of it may give a few fresh facts about
the vast continent I traversed from north to south.
In conclusion, I must candidly confess I arrived in Siberia with foregone
conclusions derived from the unreliable information and exaggerated
stories so current in England about this part of the world. How far my
subsequent experiences dispelled the prejudices with which I started,
the reader of my narrative may judge for himself. I have touched but
_en passant_ on the exile and prison system, for nothing was further
from my thoughts, when I undertook the journey, than to make a profound
study of this question. Efforts in this direction have been made both by
prejudiced and unprejudiced writers, all of whom, however, are agreed
on the main point, that the system is an anachronism and unsuitable to
the present age. What I felt was that in Siberia, that vast country with
such immense natural resources, there must be much which would be novel
and interesting to study in its social aspect, apart from the actual
prison life and hardships with which the name of Siberia has always been
associated; so I determined to devote my chief attention to phases of
life which are still, in general, so little known that to many readers,
probably, much that I have attempted to describe in these pages will
come, as it did to me, in the light of a revelation.
JULIUS M. PRICE.
SAVAGE CLUB, LONDON, _March, 1892_.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
CHAPTER I.
FROM BLACKWALL TO SIBERIA.
The object of the expedition—The steamer _Biscaya_ and its
passengers and cargo—Across the North Sea—Uncomfortable
experiences—First glimpse of Norway—Aalesund—The Lofoden
Islands—The midnight sun—A foretaste of the Arctic
regions—“Cape Flyaway”—Our ice-master, Captain Crowther—We
sight the coast of Siberia—The village of Kharbarova—The
entrance to the Kara Sea 1
CHAPTER II.
THE KARA SEA.
In the midst of the ice-floes—Tedious work—Weird effects
at twilight—A strange meeting—We pay a visit to the home
of the walrus-hunter—Curio-hunting—A summer morning in the
ice—Delightful experience—The Arctic mirage—We part from
our new friends—An uncertain post-office—Ice-bound—Novel
experiences—Seal-hunting 16
CHAPTER III.
THE KARA SEA—_continued_.
Further impressions of the Arctic regions—The awful
silence—Average thickness of the ice—On the move once more—A
fresh danger—A funny practical joke—The estuary of the River
Yenisei—Golchika—A visit from its inhabitants—From Golchika to
Karaoul 27
CHAPTER IV.
THE PORT OF KARAOUL AND ITS INHABITANTS.
The tundras of Northern Siberia—The Samoyedes—Arrival of the
_Phœnix_—My first Russian meal—Vodka and tea—Our departure for
Kasanskoi 36
CHAPTER V.
KASANSKOI.
Our Russian customs officer—A shooting-excursion—Visit
to the settlement of Kasanskoi—The house of a Siberian
trader—Interesting people—First experience of Russian
hospitality—The return of the _Phœnix_—Departure of the
_Biscaya_ 48
CHAPTER VI.
THE RIVER VOYAGE OF THE _PHŒNIX_ UP TO YENISEISK.
The Yenisei river—Its noble proportions—Scenery along the
banks—The first tree—Our first mishap—The return of the tug—An
exciting incident 60
CHAPTER VII.
THE RIVER VOYAGE—_continued_.
An awful fatality—Misfortune follows misfortune—M.
Sotnikoff—Selivanaka, the settlement of the Skopti—A visit from
the village “elder” 70
CHAPTER VIII.
TURUCHANSK.
Visit to the monastery—Werchneimbackskoi—Our first visit from
official Russia—The police officer of the district—The village
priest 80
CHAPTER IX.
THE KAMIN RAPIDS.
A whole chapter of accidents—First touch of winter—Arrival at
Yeniseisk 88
CHAPTER X.
THE CITY OF YENISEISK.
Custom-house officials—Novel sights in market-place
and streets—My lodgings—Siberian idea of “board and
lodging”—Society in Yeniseisk— A gentleman criminal exile 97
CHAPTER XI.
THE CITY OF YENISEISK—_continued_.
A visit to the prison—First impressions of the Siberian system 107
CHAPTER XII.
YENISEISK—_continued_.
The hospital—Siberian houses—Their comfort—The streets of the
city 117
CHAPTER XIII.
FROM YENISEISK TO KRASNOIARSK.
My first experience of sledging—A delightful
adventure—Krasnoiarsk—The market-place—The High Street 123
CHAPTER XIV.
KRASNOIARSK—_continued_.
Privileged criminal exiles—Ordinary criminals—A marching
convoy on the road—Convoy soldiers—The convoy—Proceedings
on arrival at the Perasilny of Krasnoiarsk—The staroster of
the gang—A stroll round the Perasilny—The married prisoners’
quarters—A “privileged” prisoner in his cell—Scene outside the
prison—Prison labour—I give it a trial—Details as to outside
employment of prisoners 134
CHAPTER XV.
MY JOURNEY FROM KRASNOIARSK TO IRKUTSK.
My servant Matwieff—The Great Post Road—The post-houses—Tea
caravans—Curious effect of road—Siberian lynch law—Runaway
convicts—A curious incident—The post courier—An awkward
accident—Arrival at Irkutsk 156
CHAPTER XVI.
IRKUTSK.
Unpleasant experiences at hotel—Hospitality of Mr. Charles
Lee—First impressions of the city 180
CHAPTER XVII.
PRISON LIFE IN SIBERIA—_continued_.
The Irkutsk prison—Comparative liberty of
prisoners—Incongruities of prison life—The “shops”—Prison
artists 192
CHAPTER XVIII.
PRISON LIFE IN SIBERIA—_continued_.
Outdoor employment of prisoners—A chat with an employer of
convict labour—The “convict’s word”—An interview with a
celebrated murderess—The criminal madhouse—Political prisoners
in solitary confinement—I get permission to paint a picture in
one of the cells—End of my visits to the prison 198
CHAPTER XIX.
IRKUTSK—_continued_.
A gold-caravan—Particulars as to the gold-mining industry of
Siberia—The Foundling Hospital—The fire-brigade—Celebration of
the Czar’s birthday—Living in Irkutsk 208
CHAPTER XX.
FROM IRKUTSK TO THE MONGOL CHINESE FRONTIER.
My journey to Kiakhta, the city of the tea princes—Across Lake
Baikal on the ice—Interesting experiences 221
CHAPTER XXI.
FROM IRKUTSK TO THE MONGOL CHINESE FRONTIER—_continued_.
The road from Lake Baikal to Kiakhta—The “Kupetski
track”—Incidents on the way—I change my sledge for a
tarantass—Exciting adventures—Arrival at Troitzkosavsk, the
business suburb of Kiakhta 235
CHAPTER XXII.
ACROSS MONGOLIA.
The Russo-Chinese frontier—Maimachin—The Mongols of
to-day—Curious customs—Hair-dressing extraordinary—A pestilent
farmyard—Exciting incidents—A forced encampment—An awful
night’s experiences—The Manhati Pass—Magnificent scenery—I
pull off a successful “bluff”—“Angliski Boxe” in the wilds of
Mongolia—Arrival at Ourga 249
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE SACRED CITY OF OURGA.
The Russian consul, M. Feodroff—Hospitality of the
Consulate—The “lions” of Ourga—The colossal statue
of the “Maidha”—The “Bogdor of Kurene”—An impromptu
interview—Prayer-wheels—Praying-boards—Religious fervour
of the Mongols 272
CHAPTER XXIV.
FROM OURGA TO THE GREAT WALL.
My preparations for the journey across the Gobi Desert—The
Russian Heavy Mail—My camel-cart—Good-bye to Ourga—The first
few days out—Discomforts of the journey—The homeward-bound
mail—The desert settlement of Tcho-Iyr 301
CHAPTER XXV.
THE GOBI DESERT—_continued_.
Sport in the desert—The “post-station” at Oud-en—The last of
the desert—Saham-Balhousar—First impressions of China—Chinese
women—Returning to sea-level—Curious experience—The eclipse of
the moon—Arrival at Kalgan 318
CHAPTER XXVI.
KALGAN TO PEKING.
A hearty welcome—Yambooshan—The Great Wall of China—American
missionaries—My mule-litter—From Kalgan to Peking—Scenery
on the road—Chinese inn—First experience of a Chinese
dinner—Amusing _rencontre_—The Nankaou Pass—The Second Parallel
of the Great Wall—First impressions of Peking—The entrance to
the city 331
CHAPTER XXVII.
PEKING.
Exciting times—A chat with Sir John Walsham—The Chinese
city—Horrible scenes—Social life at the Legations in
Peking—Lady Walsham’s “At homes”—The hardest-worked man in the
East—Interesting evening with Sir Robert Hart—His account of
his life 353
CHAPTER XXVIII.
PEKING (_continued_)—AND HOME.
Difficulty of sketching in the streets—My journey from Peking
to Tientsin—A Chinese house-boat—The Peiho River—Tientsin—From
Tientsin to Shanghai—And home 371
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE
THE “BISCAYA” LEAVING BLACKWALL 1
PREPARATIONS FOR THE ARCTIC REGIONS _To face_ 8
A “DEAD RECKONING” IN THE KARA SEA 10
OUR ICE-MASTER, CAPTAIN CROWTHER 13
CLEARING THE DRIFT ICE FROM THE PROPELLER 16
THE HOME OF THE WALRUS-HUNTER 20
THE “BISCAYA” ICE-BOUND IN THE KARA SEA _To face_ 24
AFTER SEALS 25
“ONE SPECK OF LIFE IN THE ICE-BOUND WASTE” 27
THE HANDSOMEST MEMBER OF HIS FAMILY 33
SAMOYEDE BOATMEN _To face_ 34
KARAOUL 36
THE SAMOYEDE’S GRAVE 39
A SAMOYEDE LADY 40
TRANSHIPMENT OF OUR CARGO TO THE “PHŒNIX” 43
OUR CUSTOM-HOUSE OFFICER 48
KASANSKOI 50
TRADER’S HOUSE AT KASANSKOI 50
MINE HOST AT KASANSKOI 51
SWEET SEVENTEEN 53
A HOME IN NORTHERN SIBERIA: THE MORNING MEAL _To face_ 54
MATERFAMILIAS 55
TEMPORARY FARMYARD ON ONE OF THE BARGES _To face_ 57
TEA-TIME AT THE MEN’S QUARTERS ON SHORE 57
COSSACKS 58
A HOUSE-BOAT 60
THE “PHŒNIX” _To face_ 61
LOADING WOOD FOR THE “PHŒNIX” ” 66
DIFFICULT NAVIGATION 70
SELIVANAKA _To face_ 78
THE PRINCIPAL THOROUGHFARE, TURUCHANSK 80
OUR FIRST VISIT FROM OFFICIAL RUSSIA _To face_ 83
WERCHNEIMBACKSKOI ” 83
INTERESTED OBSERVERS 83
THE RUSSIAN POLICE OFFICER _To face_ 84
THE VILLAGE PRIEST 85
A VILLAGE BOAT 88
A RIVER PILOT 89
THE RIVER YENISEI AT WOROGORO _To face_ 90
STORING THE WINTER FORAGE: A VILLAGE SCENE ON THE YENISEI _To face_ 96
YENISEISK 97
PEASANT WOMAN 101
IN THE MARKET-PLACE, YENISEISK _To face_ 101
A PRISON BEAUTY 107
THE GOVERNOR VISITING THE MEN’S PRISON, YENISEISK _To face_ 109
THE MURDERERS’ DEPARTMENT, YENISEISK PRISON 111
THE GOVERNOR VISITING THE WOMEN’S PRISON, YENISEISK _To face_ 112
CRIMINAL PRISONERS WAITING AT YENISEISK FOR CONVOY TO
START FOR KRASNOIARSK _To face_ 113
STREET SCENE, YENISEISK 117
A WATER-CARRIER 118
GETTING WATER FROM THE FROZEN RIVER YENISEI _To face_ 118
THE HIGH STREET, YENISEISK ” 118
A SWELL 119
THE TWO COLLEGIATE SCHOOLS, YENISEISK _To face_ 120
LIFE IN SIBERIA: AN AFTERNOON DRIVE IN YENISEISK ” 121
READY TO START 123
“GOOD-BYE” 126
IN THE MEAT MARKET, KRASNOIARSK 131
A TYPICAL SIBERIAN INTERIOR, KRASNOIARSK 132
SNOW SCAVENGER, KRASNOIARSK _To face_ 133
THE CATHEDRAL, KRASNOIARSK 134
A CONVOY OF PRISONERS ON THE MARCH (ENLARGEMENT FROM
AN INSTANTANEOUS KODAK PHOTO) _To face_ 138
PRISONERS UNLOADING SLEDGES ON ARRIVAL AT PERASILNY,
KRASNOIARSK _To face_ 140
VERIFICATION OF PRISONERS ON ARRIVAL AT PERASILNY,
KRASNOIARSK _To face_ 141
THE STAROSTER OF THE GANG 142
GROUP OF PRISONERS (FROM A GOVERNMENT PHOTO) 144
A “PRIVILIGIERT,” OR PRIVILEGED PRISONER 148
PEASANT WOMEN SELLING PROVISIONS TO PRISONERS 149
WATCHMAN ON DUTY IN FIRE TOWER, KRASNOIARSK _To face_ 155
MY SERVANT 156
ARRIVAL AT A POST STATION 164
INTERIOR OF A POST-HOUSE _To face_ 166
THE IMPERIAL MAIL ” 173
IRKUTSK 180
THE MOSKOVSKAIA PODVORIÉ, IRKUTSK _To face_ 180
AN IRKUTSK BEAUTY 185
ENTRANCE HALL OF MILLIONAIRE GOLD-MINE OWNER’S HOUSE, IRKUTSK 186
STREET SCENE, IRKUTSK 188
A COSSACK _To face_ 190
AN IRKUTSK POLICEMAN ” 191
THE MUSEUM, IRKUTSK 191
THE RECREATION GROUND, IRKUTSK PRISON 192
MARRIED PRISONERS WAITING TO BE SERVED WITH NEW CLOTHES
ON ARRIVAL AT PRISON, IRKUTSK _To face_ 193
THE PRISON ARTIST ” 196
THE BARONESS 201
A “POLITICAL” (FROM A GOVERNMENT PHOTO) _To face_ 205
“SWEETHEARTS AND WIVES:” VISITING-DAY IN THE IRKUTSK
PRISON _To face_ 206
AUTOGRAPH LETTER FROM THE BARONESS ” 207
THE HIGH STREET, IRKUTSK 208
IN THE COURTYARD OF A FIRE STATION, IRKUTSK 215
THE GOVERNOR-GENERAL’S HOUSE, IRKUTSK 218
STREET SCENE, IRKUTSK 220
A BIT ON THE ROAD TO LAKE BAIKAL 221
THE RIVER ANGARA NEAR LAKE BAIKAL 225
LIESTVINITZ, ON LAKE BAIKAL 229
A LAKE BAIKAL STEAMER 231
CROSSING LAKE BAIKAL 233
THE KUPETSKI TRACK 235
A POST-HOUSE ON THE KUPETSKI TRACK 238
A TEA CART 240
DAY-DREAMS: A SKETCH IN THE TRANS-BAIKAL _To face_ 242
THE HIGH STREET, TROITZKOSAVSK ” 245
MY FIRST GLIMPSE OF MONGOLIA ” 246
A BOURRIATE LADY 247
SKETCH BY A POLITICAL PRISONER, MADE WHILST ON THE MARCH
ACROSS SIBERIA (THE ORIGINAL IS IN SEPIA AND WHITE) _To face_ 248
ON THE ROAD TO OURGA 249
A MONGOL YOURT 253
A MONGOL 254
OUR MIDDAY HALT 260
A STREET MUSICIAN, OURGA 272
THE PRINCIPAL THOROUGHFARE, OURGA _To face_ 273
A PILGRIM FROM THIBET 277
A LAMA 281
A PRAYER-WHEEL, OURGA 283
PRAYER-BOARDS, OURGA 284
“THE OLD, OLD STORY ALL THE WORLD OVER” _To face_ 286
IN THE CAMEL AND PONY BAZAAR, OURGA ” 293
IN THE BAZAAR, OURGA ” 294
THE PUNISHMENT OF THE “CARGUE:” A SKETCH OUTSIDE THE
PRISON, OURGA _To face_ 295
AN OURGA BEAUTY ” 299
IN THE GOBI DESERT 301
MY CAMEL-CART _To face_ 303
MONGOL CONVEYING THE RUSSIAN LIGHT MAIL ACROSS THE GOBI
DESERT _To face_ 306
THE MIDDAY HALT IN THE DESERT 309
MY CARAVAN IN THE DESERT (FROM A KODAK PHOTO) 313
WE MEET THE HOMEWARD-BOUND MAIL 314
THE LAMA SETTLEMENT OF TCHO-IYR IN THE GOBI DESERT 315
I TAKE TEA WITH A LAMA IN THE GOBI DESERT _To face_ 316
THE RUSSIAN POST-STATION IN MID-DESERT 318
IN THE GOBI DESERT: A TEA CARAVAN ON ITS WAY TO SIBERIA (FROM
A KODAK PHOTO) 320
IN THE GOBI DESERT: LADY VISITORS TO OUR ENCAMPMENT _To face_ 323
“YE GENTLE SHEPHERDESS OF YE STEPPE” ” 324
STREET SCENE, YAMBOOSHAN (SHOWING THE “GREAT WALL” ON
MOUNTAIN IN BACKGROUND) _To face_ 332
MY MULE-LITTER ” 338
THE COURTYARD OF A CHINESE INN 341
A “ROOM” IN A CHINESE INN 343
A NASTY BIT OF ROAD _To face_ 346
THE GREAT WALL OF CHINA AT THE ENTRANCE TO NANKAOU PASS _To face_ 348
STREET SCENE, TARTAR CITY, PEKING 356
CHINESE REVENUE CRUISERS IN HONG KONG ROADSTEAD (FROM A
PHOTO GIVEN BY SIR ROBERT HART) _To face_ 363
SIR ROBERT HART, G.C.M.G., IN HIS “DEN” AT PEKING _To face_ 366
MY HOUSE-BOAT 375
SHANGHAI 380
FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN TO THE YELLOW SEA.
CHAPTER I.
FROM BLACKWALL TO SIBERIA.
The object of the expedition—The steamer _Biscaya_ and its
passengers and cargo—Across the North Sea—Uncomfortable
experiences—First glimpse of Norway—Aalesund—The Lofoden
Islands—The midnight sun—A foretaste of the Arctic
regions—“Cape Flyaway”—Our ice-master, Captain Crowther—We
sight the coast of Siberia—The village of Kharbarova—The
entrance to the Kara Sea.
[Illustration: THE “BISCAYA” LEAVING BLACKWALL.]
In these prosaic days of the nineteenth century one hardly expects a
revival of the adventurous expeditions which made the fame of England
in the days of Frobisher and Drake. As a matter of fact, the world is
almost too well known now for such adventures to be possible, even were
the leaders forthcoming, and the “good old buccaneering days” are long
past. Still, I could not help thinking, on the day we left Gravesend
for the far North-East, bound for a region but little known, and with
the uncertainty of ever reaching our destination, that it must have
been under somewhat similar conditions that the adventurers of old
started on their perilous journeys; with, however, this very great
difference—ours was not a filibustering expedition, but a commonplace
commercial enterprise, backed up by several well-to-do Englishmen, with
absolutely nothing of the romantic about it beyond the fact of its having
to traverse these wild and comparatively unknown regions before it could
be successfully achieved.
We started from the Thames on Friday, July 18, 1890, in the chartered
Norwegian steamer _Biscaya_, eight hundred tons gross, bound for the
Yenisei River with a nondescript tentative sort of cargo, consisting of
a mixture of all sorts, from a steam sawmill down to the latest toy for
children, our ultimate destination being the town of Yeniseisk, which is
situated some fifteen hundred miles from the mouth of this mighty river.
The object of the expedition was to endeavour to open a trade route
between England and Siberia by means of the Kara Sea passage, which was
discovered by Nordenskiold in 1875.
Nothing of particular interest occurred during the first few days
after we left the Thames. We were so closely packed that it required
some careful arrangement to get us all comfortably stowed, so to
speak. Imagine seven men jammed into a cabin just about large enough
to accommodate four, and each man with the usual amount of superfluous
luggage without which Englishmen could not possibly travel, this baggage
also stowed in the cabin, and you will guess that we were packed like
sardines. As, however, no doubt even sardines get used to being packed,
after a time so did we; and, although the passage across the North Sea
was about as uncomfortable a one as I ever experienced, we somehow
managed to settle into our respective grooves long before we sighted
the coast of Norway. Our party consisted of two representatives of the
London Syndicate, two engineers, a master stevedore (to unload the ship
on arrival), an experienced ice-master, who knew the Kara Sea thoroughly,
the captain of the _Biscaya_, and your humble servant. I don’t think I
ever was on board a more crowded ship. Even the decks were packed with
all sorts of paraphernalia, including a large steam-launch and several
pens of live stock; and, so as to obviate any fear of running short of
coal in the outlandish parts we were going to, the fore and upper decks
had over seventy tons of loose coal on them. We had a head wind and a
heavy sea nearly the whole way after passing Harwich, where we dropped
our pilot, thus bidding a last farewell to Old England. Off the Dogger
Bank we went right through the fishing fleet which congregates there,
and took advantage of the opportunity to get some fresh fish—a matter of
no small difficulty, as the men had a preposterous idea of its value:
they would not take money for it, but actually had the effrontery to
want to swop a couple of small cod, a ling, and a pair of soles for two
bottles of whiskey and a pound of tobacco! Fish is evidently dearer on
the fishing-ground itself than in London. Whiskey, however, was far more
valuable to us than fish, so, when the men saw we were not buyers on
their terms, they eventually came down to 1½ lb. of ship tobacco (value
2_s._ 4_d._) for the lot, which was reasonable enough. After passing the
Dogger Bank the wind freshened very considerably towards evening, and
added much to the discomfort of the crowded ship; in fact, so badly did
she roll about that not only was all our party busy “feeding the fishes”
most of the time, but our cook was also so ill that he could not attend
to his duties, and we all had to lend a hand in the galley as well as
we could. I had never been a long voyage in a wooden ship before, so
could hardly sleep a wink all night, owing to the (to me) unusual noise
caused by the groaning of her timbers as she pitched and tossed about.
It sounded not unlike what I should imagine it would be sleeping near a
lot of new leather portmanteaus which were being continually shifted.
During the whole of the following day it was blowing big guns, and the
sea was so heavy that the cabin was almost dangerous to remain in, owing
to the sort of cannonade of packages from all sides, many things being
damaged. There was absolutely nothing to do but sit down and wait events,
and, meanwhile, make one’s self as comfortable as one could under the
circumstances. By the next day the gale had moderated considerably, and
during the morning we got our first glimpse of Norway—a high, rock-bound
coast, with a dim vista of mountains in the background. Shortly after,
a small pilot-boat hove in sight, evidently on the chance of a job,
probably taking the _Biscaya_ for a tourist steamer wishing to pass
inside the islands, which is the most picturesque route, though somewhat
longer. We had no time, however, to waste on scenery, so, although one of
our party, who was suffering from an attack of dysentery, offered to pay
the pilotage (about £15) out of his own pocket if the calm-water channel
was followed, it was at once decided to keep outside the whole way up
the coast, and thus get on as fast as possible, more especially as the
weather showed signs of clearing up.
On the Norway coast we anchored for a short time off the quaint little
village of Aalesund, with its pretty wooden houses nestling under the
high snow-clad mountains which encircle the beautiful fiord on which it
is situated. I was disappointed on a nearer inspection of the village,
which looked so quaint as seen from the sea: the houses all appeared
to be almost new, doubtless owing to the fact that they are all built
entirely of wood. The effect is thoroughly characteristic of Norway, the
smell pervading the place especially so, being, as far as I could guess,
a mixture of paraffin and pickled fish, with just a _soupçon_ of burnt
wood thrown in here and there. Everything looked as clean as a new pin,
but, as each house is exactly like its neighbour, the effect is certainly
monotonous. Nevertheless, there were several pretty bits which I should
have liked to sketch had I had time. What, if anything, struck me most
was the entire absence of any national or picturesque costume, which
gives such local colour to most Continental villages. At Aalesund the
inhabitants looked for all the world like English people, and their fair
hair and blue eyes added to this resemblance. I was told, however, that
on _fête_ days there are some quaint costumes to be seen here and there.
No time was lost in getting away, and shortly after we had lost sight
of the quiet little village, where we had spent a few lazy hours, and
were heading it once more for the far-distant Arctic regions. The days
after this date began to lengthen considerably, and, although we had
hardly noticed it at first, it astonished us very much when we suddenly
found that it was eleven o’clock at night, and yet the sun was shining as
brightly as during the afternoon. When the novelty had worn off, as it
naturally did after a few days, the amount of daylight almost palled on
one. It seemed too absurd turning in while the sun was up; still, like
everything else, one gets used to it after a time. The next few days were
uneventful, as we were out of sight of land, and the usual monotony of
shipboard life was only broken by the usual skylarking, without which no
sea voyage would be complete.
On July 28 we sighted the Lofoden Islands, about fourteen miles off on
our starboard quarter. It was a lovely morning, and the lofty snow-capped
mountains towering against the calm eastern sky presented a grand and
impressive sight. The effect was almost that of a colossal painting,
so still was everything in the bright sunshine. I was so impressed
by the quiet grandeur of the scene that I got out my paint-box and
started a sketch, but only succeeded in making a sort of caricature of
my impressions. Late the next evening we came across a fleet of small
fishing-boats—about the quaintest lot of craft I ever saw: they looked
as if they had been copied from the frontispiece of the _Argosy_. We got
some coarse sort of fish from them in exchange for tobacco, biscuits,
and the inevitable rum. The men were a very fine-looking set of fellows,
very much like Englishmen (as, in fact, most Norwegians are), and seemed
quite comfortable in their ramshackle-looking boats. After leaving them
we saw for the first time the curious phenomenon of the sun above the
horizon at midnight. It was so bright, and the atmosphere so clear, that
I took an instantaneous photograph of a group on deck, and it came out
very well.
The next morning we arrived off the North Cape, and passed it close in
to the shore. We were now well inside the Arctic Circle, but perceived
no difference whatever in the temperature, except that perhaps it was
warmer than it had been previously. As a matter of fact, we had out the
hose and took a most enjoyable bath on deck in the warm sunshine. In the
afternoon, however, we had our first taste of the Arctic regions, as a
dense fog came on, and lasted till late in the evening. Everything seemed
saturated with moisture; the very rigging was dripping as under a heavy
shower.
[Illustration: PREPARATIONS FOR THE ARCTIC REGIONS.
[_To face p. 8._]
For the next few days nothing of interest occurred, when suddenly one
morning, as we were nearing Kolguier Island, we were aroused by the news
that there was a steamer in sight, and soon we were all on deck eagerly
scanning the horizon. Considering how far we were from the ordinary track
of vessels, our excitement was natural; for what was a ship doing in
these outlandish parts? We soon made out that it was a large steamer,
coming from due north straight towards us. She was coming at such a
spanking rate that very soon we could see she was flying the Russian
flag; and shortly after she passed round our stern, and we dipped our
colours to each other as she did so. She then brought up, and stopped not
far from us, while our captain hailed her in English, and asked if they
would take some letters ashore for us. With difficulty, we understood
their reply to be “Yes.” When, however, in their turn, they asked us
where we were bound for, and got the reply “Siberia,” they seemed
somewhat astonished, as well they might, for “Siberia” is vague. We then
lowered a boat, and sent them our packet of letters; after which, bidding
each other farewell by means of our fog-horns, we continued our way. We
subsequently learnt from the mate, who had been in the boat, that it was
a steamer which had been sent to Nova Zemla to try and discover a Russian
ship, which had been lost there some months back.
[Illustration: A “DEAD RECKONING” IN THE KARA SEA.]
During the remainder of that day our course was again obscured by thick
fog, which prevented us from sighting Kolguier Island in the afternoon
as we had expected. When, however, we came on deck after tea, a curious
incident occurred. Our ice-master, who had been intently looking through
his glasses at something which had attracted his attention, suddenly
declared that he saw land on the horizon behind us. We were all naturally
somewhat startled at this intelligence, as we hardly expected to see it
in so distant a quarter, for even had we passed Kolguier in the fog, at
the rate we were going it could not possibly have been so far away from
us in the time. But what land was it, then? for on looking through our
glasses we certainly did see high mountains capped here and there with
snow, their base lost in the surrounding mist. On consulting the chart
we were not a bit the wiser, for it seemed as doubtful as ourselves. I
give, as a proof, the following “caution,” which is printed on the “Map
of the Coast of Russia included between Cape Kanin and Waygatch Island”
(Imray, 1883): “As the sea comprised within the limits of this chart is
very imperfectly known, no survey of any portion of it having been made,
it should be navigated with more than ordinary care. The geographical
positions of headlands and islands are all, without exception, uncertain,
and their general delineation is only approximately accurate.” (This
is from the map we were then consulting.) After a while, however, the
mysterious land gradually disappeared in the distance; and, as we shortly
after sighted the looked-for Kolguier Island ahead of us, there can be
very little doubt that the mountains we thought we saw were part of what
the sailors call “Cape Flyaway.” It was a most realistic effect, and,
even seen through powerful glasses, was exactly like land.
The sunset that evening was magnificent; in fact, I never remember seeing
such glorious sky effects anywhere else as I have observed in these
latitudes, the most wonderful part of them being their extraordinary
stillness. For at least an hour I have frequently noticed masses of
cumuli absolutely unchanged either in shape or position.
The days were now beginning to get shorter again, although it was still
broad daylight all night (if such an expression is English), the sun
remaining below the horizon a few minutes longer every day. By the way,
I believe we were fortunate in getting in the neighbourhood of the North
Cape exactly on the last day in the year, when the sun is visible above
the horizon at midnight. All of us were now anxiously looking forward
to getting a glimpse of the coast of Siberia, and yet the weather was
so warm and the sea so calm and blue that it was more like yachting in
the Mediterranean than a voyage through the dreary Arctic regions; in
fact, on August 4, when we at length sighted the land, the sun was simply
broiling. Lovely, however, as the day was, it seemed to have very little
effect on the dreary-looking coast-line, for a more dismal and uninviting
country I never saw, flat and uninteresting right down to the very
water’s edge, and with a striking absence of any colour, except a dingy
muddy brown. This, of course, is easily accounted for, as it is only for
two or three short months that the ground is free from snow, and there is
no vegetation in these regions.
[Illustration: OUR ICE-MASTER, CAPTAIN CROWTHER.]
Captain Crowther, our ice-master, a veteran Arctic traveller, who was
out with the _Eira_ expedition in 1881-2, and is the only man on board
who knows these parts, now assumed the command of the ship, and took
up his position on the bridge. We were about to enter the Kara Sea by
the Waygatch Straits, and it was uncertain as yet if the navigation was
open, as this remote sea is never entirely free from ice. It was to be an
exciting time for the next hour or so, for, if our passage through the
Straits was blocked, we should have to return and try and get round by
the coast of Nova Zemla, a much longer and still more doubtful route.
Sailing as we were, on a summer sea and in the warm sunshine, one could
hardly realize that, perhaps a mile or so ahead, we might find our
passage blocked by impenetrable ice; it seemed so utterly improbable as
to be hardly worth the thought. But we did not know the Arctic regions
yet.
We soon reached the entrance to the Straits, which are formed by the
Island of Waygatch on one side and Siberia on the other, and are only
about one and a half mile across, passing so close to the shore that we
could plainly distinguish the battered wreck of a small vessel lying on
the beach near a primitive sort of wooden beacon, which seemed strangely
out of place in so melancholy a spot. Some distance farther, on the
Siberian side, we could see the small hamlet of Khabarova, consisting of
about a dozen wooden huts or cottages clustered round a little church,
with a few fishing-coracles drawn up on the shingle in front, while a
short distance away were several Polar bear skins hanging up to dry. It
looked unutterably sad, this poor little outpost of humanity so far away
from the busy world. One could not help wondering what inducement this
dreary Arctic waste could possibly offer for any one to wish to dwell in
it. I hear, however, that a few Russian merchants live there, carrying
on a sort of trade with the Samoyede natives in return for furs, walrus
tusks, etc.
Up till now we had been having real summer weather, with rippling waves
sparkling in the brilliant sunshine. Suddenly the scene changed, and,
with barely any warning, a drenching shower came down, and with it the
wind veered round to the north-east, dark clouds obscured the sky, and
as we entered the Kara Sea the effect was indescribably weird. It was
like going from daylight into a horrid, uncanny sort of twilight. Behind
us we could still see the lovely sunshine we had just left, while ahead
the scene was Arctic in the extreme, and thoroughly realized my wildest
expectations. All was cold and wretched, with a wintry sky overhead.
Under the low cliffs which encircled the dreary shore one could see huge
drifts of snow which the sunshine of the short Arctic summer had been
powerless to disperse, while for miles round the sea simply bristled with
drift ice in all sorts of uncouth shapes. I felt that it would require
the pencil of a Doré or the pen of a Jules Verne to convey any adequate
idea of the weird scene in all its desolate grandeur.