We remained four days at Ghijiga and then sailed for Ohotsk. For two
days we steamed to get well out of the bay, and then stopped the
engines aird depended upon canvas. A boy who once offered a dog for
sale was asked the breed of the pup.
“He _was_ a pointer,” replied the youth; “but father cut off his ears
and tail last week and made a bull-dog of him.”
Lowering the chimney and hoisting the screw, the Yariag became a
sailing ship, though her steaming propensities remained, just as the
artificial bull-dog undoubtedly retained the pointer instinct. The
ship had an advantage over the animal in her ability to resume her old
character at pleasure.
On the fourth day, during a calm, we were surrounded by sea-gulls like
those near San Francisco. We made deep sea soundings and obtained
specimens of the bottom from depths of two or three hundred fathoms.
Near the entrance of Ghijiga Bay we brought up coral from eighty
fathoms of water, and refuted the theory that coral grows only in the
tropics and at a depth of less than two hundred feet. The specimens
were both white and red, resembling the moss-like sprigs often seen in
museums. The temperature of the water was 47° Fahrenheit. Captain Lund
told me coral had been found in the Ohotsk sea in latitude 55° in a
bed of considerable extent.
Every day when calm we made soundings, which were carefully recorded
for the use of Russian chart makers. Once we found that the
temperature of the bottom at a depth of two hundred fathoms, was at
the freezing point of water. The doctor proposed that a bottle of
champagne should be cooled in the marine refrigerator. The bottle was
attached to the lead and thrown overboard.
“I send champagne to Neptune,” said the doctor. “He drink him and he
be happy.”
When the lead returned to the surface it came alone. Neptune drank the
champagne and retained the bottle as a souvenir.
One day the sailors caught a gull and painted it red. When the bird
was released he greatly alarmed his companions, and as long as we
could see them, they shunned his society. At least eighty miles from
land we had a dozen sparrows around us at once. A small hawk seized
one of these birds and seated himself on a spar for the purpose of
breakfasting. A fowling piece brought him to the deck, where we
examined and pronounced him of the genus _Falco_, species _NISUS_, or
in plain English, a sparrow hawk. During the day we saw three
varieties of small birds, one of them resembling the American robin.
The sailors caught two in their hands, and released them without
injury.
Approaching Ohotsk a fog bank shut out the land for an hour or two,
and when it lifted we discovered the harbor. A small sand-bar
intervened between the ocean and the town, but did not intercept the
view. As at Petropavlovsk, the church was the most prominent object
and formed an excellent landmark. With my glass I surveyed the line of
coast where the surf was breaking, but was long unable to discover an
entering place. The Ohota river is the only harbor, and entirely
inaccessible to a ship like the Variag.
Descending the ship’s side after we anchored, I jumped when the boat
was falling and went down five or six feet before alighting. Both
hands were blistered as the gang-way ropes passed through them.
Keeping the beacons carefully in line, we rolled over the bar on the
top of a high wave, and then followed the river channel to the
landing.
Many years ago Ohotsk was the most important Russian port on the
waters leading to the Pacific. Supplies for Kamchatka and Russian
America were brought overland from Yakutsk and shipped to
Petropavlovsk, Sitka, and other points under Russian control. Many
ships for the Pacific Ocean and Ohotsk sea were built there. I was
shown the spot where Bering’s vessel was constructed, with its cordage
and extra sails of deerskin, and its caulking of moss. Billings’
expedition in a ship called Russia’s Glory, was organized here for an
exploration of the Arctic ocean. At one time the Government had
foundries and workshops at Ohotsk. The shallowness of water on the bar
was a great disadvantage, as ships drawing more than twelve feet were
unable to enter. Twenty years ago the government abandoned Ohotsk for
Ayan, and when the Amoor was opened it gave up the latter place. The
population, formerly exceeding two thousand, is now less than two
hundred.
We landed on a gravelly beach, where we were met by a crowd of
Cossacks and “Lamuti.” The almond-shaped eyes and high cheek bones of
the latter betray their Mongolian origin. As I walked among them each
hailed me with _sdrastveteh_, the Russian for ‘good-morning.’ I
endeavored to reply with the same word, but my pronunciation was far
from accurate. Near these natives there were several Yakuts and
Tunguze, with physiognomies unlike the others. The Russian empire
contains more races of men than any rival government, and we
frequently find the population of a single locality made up from two
or more branches of the human family. In this little town with not
more than ten or twelve dozens of inhabitants, there were
representatives of the Slavonic, the Tartar, and the Mongolian races.
We found Captain Mahood, of the Telegraph service, in a quiet
residence, where he had passed the summer in comparative idleness. He
had devoted himself to exploring the country around Ohotsk and
studying the Russian language. “We don’t expect to starve at present,”
said the captain; “Providence sends us fish, the emperor sends us
flour, and the merchants furnish tea and sugar. We have lived so long
on a simple bill of fare that we are almost unfitted for any other.”
We had a lunch of dried fish, tea, whisky, and cigars, and soon after
went to take tea at a house where most of the Variag’s officers were
assembled. The house was the property of three brothers, who conducted
the entire commerce of Ohotsk. The floor of the room where we were
feasted was of hewn plank, fastened with enormous nails, and appeared
able to resist anything short of an earthquake. The windows were
double to keep out the winter’s cold, but on that occasion they
displayed a profusion of flower pots. The walls were papered, and many
pictures were hung upon them. Every part of the room was scrupulously
clean.
[Illustration: WAGON RIDE WITH DOGS.]
Three ladies were seated on a sofa, and a fourth occupied a chair near
them. The three were the wives of the merchant brothers, and the
fourth a visiting friend. One with black eyes and hair was dressed
tastefully and even elaborately. The eldest, who acted as hostess, was
in black, and her case in receiving visitors would have done credit to
a society dame in St. Petersburg. By way of commencement we had tea
and _nalifka_, the latter a kind of currant wine of local manufacture
and very well flavored. They gave us corned beef and bread, each
person taking his plate upon his knee as at an American pic-nic, and
after two or three courses of edibles we had coffee and cigarettes,
the latter from a manufactory at Yakutsk. According to Russian
etiquette each of us thanked the hostess for her courtesy.
Out in the broad street there were many dogs lying idle in the
sunshine or biting each other. A small wagon with a team of nine dogs
carried a quantity of tea and sugar from the Variag’s boats to a
warehouse. When the work was finished I took a ride on the wagon, and
was carried at good speed. I enjoyed the excursion until the vehicle
upset and left me sprawling on the gravel with two or three bruises
and a prejudice against that kind of traveling. By the time I gained
my feet the dogs were disappearing in the distance, and fairly running
away from the driver. Possibly they are running yet.
An old weather beaten church and equally old barracks are near each
other, an appropriate arrangement in a country where church and state
are united. The military garrison includes thirty Cossacks, who are
under the orders of the Ispravnik. They row the pilot boat when
needed, travel on courier or other service, guard the warehouses, and
when not wanted by government labor and get drunk for themselves. The
governor was a native of Poland, and it struck me as a curious fact
that the ispravniks of Kamchatka, Ghijiga, and Ohotsk were Poles.
Cows and dogs are the only stock maintained at Ohotsk. The former live
on grass in summer, and on hay and fish in whiter. Though repeatedly
told that cows and horses in Northeastern Siberia would eat dried fish
with avidity, I was inclined to skepticism. Captain Mahood told me he
had seen them eating fish in winter and appearing to thrive on it.
What was more singular, he had seen a cow eating fresh salmon in
summer when the hills were covered with grass.
There is a story that Cuvier in a fit of illness, once imagined His
Satanic Majesty standing before him.
“Ah!” said the great naturalist, “horns, hoofs; graniverous; needn’t
fear him.”
I wonder if Cuvier knew the taste of the cows at Ohotsk? No ship had
visited Ohotsk for nearly a year before our arrival, though half a
dozen whalers had passed in sight. A steamer goes annually from the
Amoor with a supply of flour and salt on government account. The mail
comes once a year, so that the postmaster has very little to do for
three hundred and sixty-four days. Sometimes the mail misses, and then
people must wait another twelvemonth for their letters. What a nice
residence it would be for a young man whose sweetheart at a distance
writes him every day. He would get three hundred and sixty-five
letters at once, and in the case of a missing mail, seven hundred and
thirty of them.
[Illustration: YEARLY MAIL.]
Bears are quite numerous around Ohotsk, and their dispositions do not
savor of gentleness. Only a few days before our visit a native was
partly devoured within two miles of town.
Many of the dogs are shrewd enough to catch their own fish, but have
not learned how to cure them for winter use. When at Ohotsk I went to
the bank of the river as the tide was coming in, and watched the dogs
at their work. Wading on the sand bars and mud flats till the water
was almost over their backs, they stood like statues for several
minutes. Waiting till a salmon was fairly within reach, a dog would
snap at him with such accuracy of aim that he rarely missed.
I kept my eye on a shaggy brute that stood with little more than his
head out of water. His eyes were in a fixed position, and for twelve
or fifteen minutes he did not move a muscle. Suddenly his head
disappeared, and after a brief struggle he came to shore with a
ten-pound salmon in his jaws. None of the cows are skilled in salmon
catching.
[Illustration: DOGS FISHING.]
Two or three years ago a mail carrier from Ayan to Yakutsk was visited
by a bear during a night halt. The mail bag was lying by a tree a few
steps from the Cossack, and near the bank of a brook. The bear seized
and opened the pouch, regardless of the government seal on the
outside. After turning the letter package several times in his paws,
he tossed it into the brook. The Cossack discharged his pistol to
frighten the bear, and then fished the letters from the water. It is
proper to say the package was addressed to an officer somewhat famous
for his bear-hunting proclivities.
When we left Ohotsk at the close of day, we took Captain Mahood and
the governor to dine with us, and when our guests departed we hoisted
anchor and steamed away. Captain Lund burned a blue light as a
farewell signal, and we could see an answering fire on shore. Our
course lay directly southward, and when our light was extinguished we
were barely visible through the distance and gloom.
“But true to our course, though our shadow grow dark,
We’ll trim our broad sail as before;
And stand by the rudder that governs the bark,
Nor ask how we look from the shore.”