FROM YENISEISK TO KRASNOIARSK.
My first experience of sledging—A delightful
adventure—Krasnoiarsk—The market-place—The High Street.
[Illustration: READY TO START.]
If asked which place I should prefer, Krasnoiarsk or London, to pass the
winter in, I should, without hesitation, give the preference to this
picturesque Siberian town, with its bright blue sky and exhilarating
atmosphere, its gay and interesting society, and many festivities during
the Christmas season. I do not think there was ever a country less known
or more maligned than Siberia. I found this out more and more every day;
but I formed that opinion from the time I landed, after my voyage through
the Arctic Seas, and I have not had occasion to alter it, nor am I likely
to do so.
In my last chapter I endeavoured to give you a description of Yeniseisk,
the first Siberian town of any importance I had then reached, and where
I managed to spend five of the pleasantest weeks imaginable among some of
the most hospitable people I ever had the good fortune to meet. Far-away
Yeniseisk will long remain graven on my memory, not only on account of
its being the long-looked-for goal of the most eventful voyage I ever
made in my life, but also as recalling many delightful hours and novel
experiences.
The journey by sledge from Yeniseisk to Krasnoiarsk, a distance of 331
versts, if one travels day and night, takes forty-eight hours; this, of
course, means hard going the whole time, but, as the various post-houses
on the road offer but little inducement for the traveller to prolong his
stay in them longer than is absolutely necessary, there is no temptation
to loiter on the way. I had been strongly advised to buy my own sledge,
and not trust to the ramshackle conveyances which could be hired at the
different stations, so I determined to go by the advice of people who
knew what Siberian travelling meant, and, with the assistance of a kind
friend, was fortunate in picking up a sledge in excellent condition
wonderfully cheap. All complete it cost me only fifty-two roubles, or
about £6 15_s._—such a bargain was it that, I was informed, I should
doubtless be able to sell it again at the same price anywhere.
In fact, my lucky star seemed to be in the ascendant at that time, for
just before leaving Yeniseisk I had a unique little adventure which made
my first impressions of Siberian sledging too agreeable for description
in plain Anglo-Saxon.
I had made my arrangements for starting, when a Siberian friend of mine
called and asked me if I would escort a lady as far as Krasnoiarsk. The
sledge held two, but I was alarmed at the idea, especially as I was
informed that the lady was a widow. Like Mr. Weller, I avoid widows.
It is one of my few guiding principles. I said, therefore, that my
baggage was multitudinous and heavy. My friend had placed me under so
many obligations that I could not refuse to reconsider the matter, so
it was arranged that I should be presented to the widow on the next
day to talk the matter over. I went to bed quite determined to have
my sledge to myself. In the morning I called. The lady came into the
room, and, instead of the wrinkled widow I had conjured up in my mind,
behold a most charming and graceful creature of twenty-five, with a most
vivacious manner and a smile which melted all the frost in my nature.
(I mentally decided that if it cost me another sledge for the baggage
the widow should be my companion.) So without the slightest hesitation I
said, twirling my moustaches, that I should feel myself a thousand years
younger if I might be permitted to escort her to Krasnoiarsk. I made
this remark in English, so neither the widow nor my friend understood
it; but I quickly assured them in my very best Parisian that on mature
consideration I had discovered that there was room for two in the sledge,
so the horses were ordered at the Government post-house, and at six
o’clock that evening we started on our first stage, about twenty-five
versts on the road. A party of friends accompanied us so far, and when
we reached the post-house they produced chickens and champagne enough
to have bribed the whole Press of Russia. Then good-bye, and away over
the moonlit snow, galloping noiselessly through the night. I smoked a
heavenly cigar; the widow puffed at a cigarette. And so we travelled,
halting only at the post-houses to change the horses. My sledge was
heavily laden with tinned meats and food to last me a long way. The
post-houses supplied tea and minor necessities.
[Illustration: “GOOD-BYE.”]
I was soon initiated by my charming companion into the mode of travelling
by sledge here. I learnt that horses (the usual number is a _troika_, or
three) were to be got at each post-house, the cost being three kopeks per
horse per verst (rather under a penny for two-thirds of a mile), plus
ten kopeks _progon_, or Government tax, per station. The _yemschik_, or
driver, changes with each relay, and is included in the charges, but
he naturally expects a small gratuity for himself. Although this is
not obligatory, it is a usual custom to give sixpence or so, according
to the length of the stage and how one was driven. The _padarojna_,
or Government permit, authorizing the traveller to have the necessary
horses, is a thing of the past, to all intents and purposes. Of course,
there is nothing against the traveller wasting his money on one, if he so
wishes, but he will find it a nuisance rather than otherwise. A good tip
to your last driver goes a long way further towards helping one than all
the Government padarojnas, in my humble opinion.
I have travelled right across Siberia without one, and had not the
slightest difficulty in getting horses anywhere, and in no case was
the delay longer than was necessary to get ready a cup of tea or
bouillon-fleet to keep out the cold; but, of course, I was exceptionally
fortunate in having had the advice of experienced friends before starting
on my journey, and all went as merrily as a wedding-bell, although I
knew but the merest smattering of the Russian language. The distances
between the different stations never exceeded twenty-five versts (about
sixteen miles), and this generally took a little over two hours to do,
so it may be remarked the pace was not slow. The post-station, I am
informed, is usually the best house in the village (which is not always
saying much), the owner being paid a certain sum yearly for the use of
his largest room, which he always has to keep ready for travellers,
and if necessary, for a small fee, to supply the inevitable samovar.
Refreshments, also, he in most cases undertakes to provide; but, as a
general rule, these only consist of black bread, milk, and frozen eggs,
so the hungry traveller who is at all fastidious does well to provide
himself beforehand with all his gastronomical necessaries. Of course, I
am now speaking of travelling on the route from Yeniseisk to Krasnoiarsk,
and not the “Great Post Road,” which I shall have future occasion to
describe. I found these houses, in most cases, clean and comfortably
furnished, but always heated to such a degree as to render them almost
unbearable; so stifling, as a rule, was the atmosphere that it was
generally like walking into a badly ventilated Turkish bath. I never
stayed a moment longer than was absolutely necessary, and was always glad
to get back again into my comfortable sledge.
The road was in exceptionally good condition for sledging; for the
greater part of the way it was like travelling on a velvet-pile carpet.
I never saw deeper snow anywhere, the horses at times being absolutely
buried up to their withers in it, while the trees on either side of us
were simply bent down with the weight of their fleecy pall. The scenery
was at times very beautiful, having almost the appearance of an English
park, and altogether very different to what I expected to find in the
wilds of Siberia.
Taking it all in all, therefore, I found sledging a very pleasant way
of travelling, and when snugly tucked up in my furs, as we dashed on
through the darkness of the night, I was lulled gradually to sleep by the
continuous jingle of the _duga_ bells, the Strand, the Paper, and in fact
London itself, seemed but as a dream of a far distant past. Of course
this sort of sentimental reverie is only inspired when one is on a good
road; if it is otherwise, well, one’s impressions are not of quite so
soothing a nature, more especially if they are caused by the corners of a
box or the roof of the sledge!
I had reason to congratulate myself on having provided myself with quite
a Siberian outfit in the way of furs, for I don’t think I ever felt such
cold in my life as I did on the road from Yeniseisk. If one’s face was
exposed to the wind for only a few seconds, one’s eyes and nostrils were
frozen together and one’s moustache became coated with thick ice. The
horses, also, were so covered with white frost that their colour was
absolutely unrecognizable. I found from my thermometer that the cold
averaged each day no less than 35 deg. below zero (Réaumur)! It will give
some idea of its intensity when I mention that whilst smoking in the open
air, and having occasion to expectorate, my saliva would often fall to
the ground as a solid lump of ice!
On reaching Krasnoiarsk, I was much surprised, and of course pleased,
to find quite a decent hotel, where I was accommodated with a couple
of really comfortable rooms well furnished, on fairly moderate terms.
They would, I fancy, have been considered good anywhere; and when I
add that they were fitted with electric bells, that there were sheets
and bedding to the bed, and that I had a _real_ “tub” every morning,
you will understand that it seemed like getting back to civilization,
with the ordinary “comforts” of everyday life once more. Krasnoiarsk
is decidedly a picturesque town; and, if it be so in winter, it must
be doubly pleasant in summer. Situated on one of the most beautiful
portions of the river Yenisei, in the centre of an amphitheatre of high
hills, every street has a sort of background of its own, so to speak,
and the effect is very pleasing. It is, of course, a much more important
place than Yeniseisk, being considerably larger, and is more advanced in
every respect. I was struck with this on the night of my arrival, by the
appearance and length of the lamp-lit streets we had to drive through
before reaching the hotel.
[Illustration: IN THE MEAT MARKET, KRASNOIARSK.]
The town was busy enough next morning, for it was market-day, and the
traffic in the streets abutting on the market-place was so great that it
required the services of several Cossacks, placed at different points for
the purpose, to control it; and they had their work cut out for them, for
there is evidently no rule of the road here, to all outward appearance,
and sledges of all sorts and sizes were dashing about in every direction
in the most reckless fashion. The Bolskoi Oulitza, or High Street,
presents a very animated appearance on a fine afternoon, and, if the
weather be not too cold, one sees many pretty faces and smart equipages.
Krasnoiarsk, owing to its sheltered position, is not so cold as
Yeniseisk, the average here during the winter months being only 15 deg.
below zero (Réaumur). Every afternoon there is quite a crowd of skaters
in the fine public gardens, and the scene is a very picturesque one,
for there are usually many officers on the ice, their striking uniforms
harmonizing well with the furs of the fair sex.
[Illustration: A TYPICAL SIBERIAN INTERIOR, KRASNOIARSK.]
Society in Krasnoiarsk is much gayer than in Yeniseisk. I was fortunate
in having letters of introduction to the Governor-General Telakoffski
and other officials, also to the two richest mine-owners in the place,
Messrs. Consnitsoff and Mativieff, so what with dinners and dances I
never found the time hang heavily on my hands of an evening; in fact,
it was rather too much the contrary, for so great is the hospitality
of the Siberians that it was positively difficult to get an evening to
one’s self. Most of the people spoke French or German, and, as many visit
Europe every year, they are, so to speak, well in touch with all subjects
of social and artistic interest, and the general “tone” of the dinners,
dances, and musical evenings was exactly like what one is accustomed to
on the continent. Excellent musicians absolutely abound here.
[Illustration: SNOW SCAVENGER, KRASNOIARSK.
[_To face p. 133._]
I fancy it would have astonished most people in England, or, for the
matter of it, anywhere, could they have been suddenly transported to the
spacious ball-room of the club (_sobranje_) on Christmas Day, when the
governor held his annual official reception. The magnificent suite of
rooms was simply packed with everybody who was anybody here; all officers
and Government officials in full uniform, the civilians in evening dress,
whilst the many ladies who were also present, dressed in the latest of
Parisian fashion, lent additional interest to a scene the like of which I
certainly never even dreamt of seeing in the “dreary land of exile.”
Of course Krasnoiarsk, like most places, has its “season,” which lasts
during the winter months only; during the heat of the summer the town has
almost a deserted appearance, I heard, as all the rich people then go
to their cool villas on the hills in order to escape from the scorching
rays of the sun and the blinding dust, and the place is left to the _Oi
polloi_.