THE STEAMER “MURAVYOV,”
June 29, 1890.
Meteors are flying in my cabin--these are luminous beetles that look like
electric sparks. Wild goats swim across the Amur in the day-time. The flies
here are huge. I am sharing my cabin with a Chinaman--Son-Luli--who is
constantly telling me how in China for the merest trifle it is “off with
his head.” Last night he got drunk with opium, and was talking in his sleep
all night and preventing me from sleeping. On the 27th I walked about the
Chinese town Aigun. Little by little I seem gradually to be stepping into a
fantastic world. The steamer rocks, it is hard to write.
To-morrow I shall reach Habarovsk. The Chinaman began to sing from music
written on his fan.