TURUCHANSK.
Visit to the monastery—Werchneimbackskoi—Our first visit from
official Russia—The police officer of the district—The village
priest.
[Illustration: THE PRINCIPAL THOROUGHFARE, TURUCHANSK.]
During this time we were steadily advancing, and in the afternoon we came
in sight of the beautiful monastery of Turuchansk, standing up above the
trees like a big white lighthouse, its silvered dome glistening in the
brilliant sunshine. It was our first real glimpse of Holy Russia, and
a welcome sight after our long and wearisome journey. The river still
retained its noble proportions, but was so full of sandbanks that we had
to make a big _détour_ before we could approach the shore. The beach, for
it was nothing less, was covered with boats and quite a crowd of people,
for our arrival was doubtless an event in this quiet place.
As it was uncertain how long we should be staying, we lost no time in
getting ashore and making for the monastery. Its beautiful architecture
offered a curious and striking contrast to the squalid wooden huts
clustered round it, and in its quiet precincts we felt an indefinable
sense of repose, which was very pleasant after the continual noise
on board the _Phœnix_. We had no difficulty whatever in being shown
over the interior of the building, which, I must confess, was somewhat
disappointing, and did not equal the outside effect. As is usual in
the Greek Church, sacred pictures constituted the chief feature, and,
with their gaudy metal appendages, offered a great contrast to the bare
whitewashed walls. As none of us understood Russian, all the interesting
details given us by our guide (a monk, by the way, of most “unmonkish”
appearance) were lost to us. Still, we were much interested in a very
heavy sort of iron jacket and cross, which, we understood him to say,
had been continually worn by some former ultra-religious inhabitant of
the place. For what purpose he had thus afflicted himself we could not
make out, but let us hope it did him a lot of good and brought him to an
early grave, as was doubtless his wish when first donning it.
The few monks live in a wooden building just behind the church, and share
their quarters with the police officer of the district—an arrangement, I
hear, not at all to their taste; still, they have to grin and bear it, as
evidenced by the sentry-box which stood at the very door of the sacred
edifice, and in which a Cossack is stationed when any Government money
is in the district, for it is always kept for safety in the monastery
itself. Our guide, the monk, had very comfortable quarters, and certainly
far more luxurious than one would have expected for a man of his austere
life. Here again Russian hospitality asserted itself. It is certainly a
wonderful trait in the national character; I have never seen it equalled
in any other country. Our genial host insisted on our breaking bread with
him, and produced some delicious caviare and other eatables, which looked
so appetizing we could not refuse.
[Illustration: OUR FIRST VISIT FROM OFFICIAL RUSSIA.
[_To face p. 83._]
[Illustration: WERCHNEIMBACKSKOI.
[_To face p. 83._]
On our return to the ship we learnt that the police officer of the
district had gone on to the next village, some three hundred versts
further up. As by this time the men had finished loading the wood, steam
was got up, and soon we were once again moving onward, and, ere the
moon had risen, peaceful Turuchansk, with its quaint monastery, was far
behind us. In spite of all the adverse prophecies, the weather not only
continued fine, but, during the next few days, became absolutely warm
again. We made capital progress, as we had the wind in our favour, and
reached the village of Werchneimbackskoi even sooner than we had expected.
[Illustration: INTERESTED OBSERVERS.]
Our arrival was hailed by a salute fired from a small cannon on the
hillside, and the villagers crowded forth to have a look at us. It was
a picturesque spot, and looked doubly so in the warm sunshine, the
Oriental-looking little church, with its white walls and green cupolas,
standing out in brilliant relief against the blue sky. In a short time
the police officer arrived, accompanied by his clerk and a couple of
Cossacks, and we thus received our first visit from official Russia. The
Russians, physically, are undoubtedly a fine set of men; nearly all I
have seen so far have been above the average height. This officer topped
them all, for he must have stood at least six feet four inches, and, with
his tall astrachan képi and long fur coat, seemed a huge fellow, a very
good-looking one to boot. Our passports had to be examined here, and a
sort of inquest held on the body of poor Lee. As the proceedings had
no interest for me, not understanding Russian, I went ashore and had a
stroll through the village. It certainly was a great improvement on any
of the others we had yet come to: the houses even had some pretence to
architecture, and looked very pretty with their quaint wooden porticoes.
Dogs, as usual, seemed more numerous than inhabitants; and, had it not
been that I knew how peaceful they are, except among themselves, it would
have required some nerve to pass through them, for the row they made was
simply awful.
[Illustration: THE RUSSIAN POLICE OFFICER.
[_To face p. 84._]
In the evening the police officer dined with us on board the _Phœnix_,
and a very pleasant fellow he seemed. He told us that his jurisdiction
extended over an enormous extent of country, which, on consulting the
map, we found to be no less than _five times_ the size of Great Britain,
extending right away to the Arctic Ocean—an awful and desolate tract,
which he was obliged to visit twice a year. During the winter, he said,
the cold was so intense that at times he had experienced as much as 45
deg. of frost (Réaumur)! We could not help telling him that he looked
remarkably well, in spite of all these hardships.
[Illustration: THE VILLAGE PRIEST.]
The next morning a messenger came to the ship expressly to ask if I would
go ashore and take a sketch of the village priest and his family. This
was rather a compliment, so I could hardly refuse, more especially as
a few minutes later the worthy man himself arrived to show me the way.
(Could it be possible, I thought, that they took in the _Illustrated
London News_ in this far-away Siberian village, and had heard I was on
board?) The priest was a person of remarkable appearance—tall, slim,
and exceedingly good-looking, in an effeminate sort of way—with a long
fair beard and flowing locks, quite a biblical-looking personage, so I
immediately spotted him as a good subject for a sketch. We went up to his
house, and I was presented to Madame, who was most commonplace-looking,
and his children, who were still more so. Fortunately I had brought
my camera with me, so to please him I took them all in a group, and
shuddered to think how it would look when developed. I then asked the
gentleman if I might make a separate study of him; and he not only said
he would be very pleased to let me, but even offered to come on board
to sit for me. So, during the morning, I made a careful pencil study of
him. While doing it, to my astonishment the police officer, who had come
to have a look at what I was doing, asked me if I would like to do him
afterwards. This made it late in the evening before we got away. We,
however, had an extra large amount of wood in the bunkers, so hoped to
make up for lost time.
Nothing of importance occurred till a couple of days later, when there
was a slight outbreak of fire on board, which, fortunately, we were soon
able to extinguish, or it might have developed into a serious affair. As
it was, it detained us some hours. It was caused by some dry wood on the
upper deck igniting through being too close to the base of the funnel
(the upper deck being a Siberian addition to the _Phœnix_). We were now
nearing the famous Kamin Pass, which, with the rapids close to it, is
the crux of the river navigation. It was all along considered doubtful
whether the _Phœnix_ would be able to get her four barges up at one
time, or would have to make several journeys; no such load had ever been
brought up the rapids before.