When I rose in the morning after leaving Habarofka the steward was
ready with his usual pitcher of water and basin. In Siberia they have
a novel way of performing ablutions. They rarely furnish a wash-bowl,
but in place of it bring a large basin of brass or other metal. If you
wish to wash hands or face the basin is placed where you can lean over
it. A servant pours from a pitcher into your hands, and if you are
skillful you catch enough water to moisten your face. Frequently the
peasants have a water-can attached to the wall of the house in some
out-of-the-way locality. The can has a valve in the bottom opened from
below like a trapdoor in a roof. By lifting a brass pin that projects
from this valve one can fill his hands with water without the aid of a
servant.
While I was arranging my toilet the steward pointed out of the cabin
window and uttered the single word “Kitie”—emphasizing the last
syllable. I looked where he directed and had my first view of the
Chinese empire.
“Kitie” is the Russian name of China, and is identical with the Cathay
of Marco Polo and other early travelers. I could not see any
difference between Kitie on one hand and Russia on the other; there
were trees and bushes, grass and sand, just as on the opposite shore.
In the region immediately above the Ousuree there are no mountains
visible from the river, but only the low banks on either hand covered
with trees and bushes. Here and there were open spaces appearing as if
cleared for cultivation. With occasional sand bars and low islands,
and the banks frequently broken and shelving, the resemblance to the
lower Mississippi was almost perfect.
Mr. Maack says of this region:
“In the early part of the year when the yellow blossoms of the
Lonicera chrysantha fill the air with their fragrance, when the
syringas bloom and the Hylonecon bedecks large tracts with a bright
golden hue, when corydales, violets, and pasque flowers are open, the
forests near the Ousuree may bear comparison in variety of richness
and coloring with the open woods of the prairie country. Later in the
year, the scarcity of flowers is compensated by the richness of the
herbage, and after a shower of rain delicious perfumes are wafted
towards us from the tops of the walnut and cork trees.”
A little past noon we touched at the Russian village of Petrovsky. At
this place the river was rapidly washing the banks, and I was told
that during three years nearly four hundred feet in front of the
village had been carried away. The single row of houses forming the
settlement stands with a narrow street between it and the edge of the
bank. The whole population, men, women, and children, turned out to
meet us. The day was cool and the men were generally in their
sheepskin coats. The women wore gowns of coarse cloth of different
colors, and each had a shawl over her head. Some wore coats of
sheepskin like those of the men, and several were barefooted. Two
women walked into the river and stood with utter nonchalance where the
water was fifteen inches deep. I immersed my thermometer and found it
indicated 51°.
Walking on shore I was nearly overturned by a small hog running
between my legs. The brute, with a dozen of his companions, had pretty
much his own way at Petrovsky, and after this introduction I was
careful about my steps. These hogs are modelled something like
blockade runners: with great length, narrow beam, and light draft.
They are capable of high speed, and would make excellent time if
pursued by a bull-dog or pursuing a swill-bucket.
[Illustration: RECEPTION AT PETROVSKY.]
A peasant told us there were wild geese in a pond near by,
and as the boat remained an hour or more to take wood, Borasdine and I
improvised a hunting excursion. It proved in every sense a wild-goose
chase, as the birds flew away before we were in shooting distance. Not
wishing to return empty-handed we purchased two geese a few hundred
yards from the village, and assumed an air of great dignity as we
approached the boat. We subsequently ascertained that the same geese
were offered to the steward for half the price we paid.
Just above Petrovsky we passed the steamer Amoor, which left
Nicolayevsk a week before us with three barges in tow. With such a
heavy load her progress was very slow. Barges on the Amoor river are
generally built of iron, and nearly as large as the steamers. They are
not towed alongside as on the Mississippi, but astern. The rope from
the steamer to the first barge is about two hundred feet long, and the
barges follow each other at similar distances. Looking at this steamer
struggling against the current and impeded by the barges, brought to
mind Pope’s needless Alexandrine:
“That, like a wounded snake, drags its slow length along.”
Each barge has a crew, subordinate, of course, to the captain of the
tow-boat. This crew steers the barge in accordance with the course of
the steamer, looks after its welfare, and watches over the freight on
board. In case it fastens on a sand bar the crew remains with it, and
sometimes has the pleasure of wintering there. The barge is decked
like a ship, and has two or three hatchways for receiving and
discharging freight. Over each hatchway is a derrick that appears at a
distance not unlike a mast.
Above Petrovsky the banks generally retain their level character on
the Russian side. Cliffs and hills frequently extend to the water on
the Chinese shore, most of the land being covered with forests of
foliferous trees. Some of the mountains are furrowed along their sides
as regularly as if turned with a gigantic plow. Near the villages of
Ettoo and Dyrki the cliffs are precipitous and several hundred feet
high; at their base the water is deep and the current very strong. On
the north shore the plain is generally free from tall trees, but has a
dense growth of grass and bushes. Sand-banks are frequent, and the
islands are large and numerous.
This region is much frequented during the fishing season, and the huts
of the natives, their canoes and drying scaffolds are quite numerous.
There are but few fixed villages, the country not being desirable for
permanent habitation. Near one village there was a gently sloping
hillside about a mile square with a forest of oak so scattered that it
had a close resemblance to an American apple-orchard.
The treaty between Russia and China, fixing the boundaries between the
two empires, contains a strange oversight. Dated on the 14th of
November, 1860, it says:
“Henceforth the eastern frontier between the two empires shall
commence from the junction of the rivers Shilka and Argoon, and will
follow the course of the River Amoor to the junction of the river
Ousuree with the latter. The land on the left bank (to the north) of
the River Amoor belongs to the empire of Russia, and the territory on
the right bank (to the south) to the junction of the River Ousuree, to
the empire of China.”
The treaty further establishes the boundaries from the mouth of the
Ousuree to the sea of Japan, and along the western region toward
Central Asia. It provides for commissioners to examine the frontier
line.
It declares that trade shall be free of duty along the entire line,
and removes all commercial restrictions. It gives the merchants of
Kiachta the right of going to Pekin, Oorga, and Kalgan; allows a
Russian consulate at Oorga, and permits Russian merchants to travel
anywhere in China. It annuls former treaties, and establishes a postal
arrangement between Pekin and Kiachta.
I presume the oversight in the treaty was on the part of the Chinese,
as the Russians are too shrewd in diplomacy to omit any point of
advantage. Nothing is said about the land in the Amoor. “The land on
the north bank is Russian, and on the south bank Chinese.” What is to
be the nationality of the islands in the river? Some of them are large
enough to hold a population of importance, or be used, as the sites of
fortifications. There are duchies and principalities in Europe of less
territorial extent than some islands of the Amoor.
When Russia desires them she will doubtless extend her protection, and
I observed during my voyage that several islands were occupied by
Russian settlers for hay-cutting and other purposes. Why could not an
enterprising man of destiny like the grey-eyed Walker or unhappy
Maximilian penetrate the Amoor and found a new government on an island
that nobody owns? Quite likely his adventure would result like the
conquests of Mexico and Nicaragua, but this probability should not
cause a man of noble blood to hesitate.
Below the Ousuree the Russian villages were generally on the south
bank of the river, but after passing that stream I found them all on
the north side. The villages tributary to China consisted only of the
settlements of Goldees and Mangoons, or their temporary fishing
stations. The Chinese empire contains much territory still open to
colonization, and I imagine that it would be to the interest of the
Celestial government to scatter its population more evenly over its
dominions. Possibly it does not wish to send its subjects into regions
that may hereafter fall into the hands of the emperor of Russia.
There is a great deal of land in Manjouria adapted to agriculture,
richly timbered and watered, but containing a very small population.
Millions of people could find homes where there are now but a few
thousands.
A Russian village and military post seventeen miles below the mouth of
the Songaree is named Michael Semenof, in honor of the Governor
General of Eastern Siberia. We landed before the commandant’s house,
where two iron guns pointed over the river in the direction of China.
However threatening they appeared I was informed they were
unserviceable for purposes of war, and only employed in firing
salutes. A military force was maintained there, and doubtless kept a
sharp watch over the Chinese frontier.
The soldiers appeared under good sanitary regulations, and the
quarters of the Commandant indicated an appreciation of the comforts
of life. The peasants that gathered on the bank were better dressed
than those of Petrovsky and other villages. The town is on a plain
covered with a scattered growth of oaks. Below this place the wood
furnished us was generally ash or poplar; here it was oak, somewhat
gnarly and crooked, but very good for steamboat fuel. One design of
the colonization of the Amoor is to furnish a regular supply of wood
to the government steamers. The peasants cut the wood and bring it to
the bank of the river. Private steamers pay cash for what they
purchase; the captains of the government boats gives vouchers for the
wood they take, and these vouchers are redeemed at the end of the
season of navigation. About sixty thousand roubles worth of wood is
consumed annually by government, and twelve thousand on private
account.
While the boat took wood Borasdine and I resumed our hunting, he
carrying a shot-gun and I an opera glass; with this division of labor
we managed to bag a single snipe and kill another, which was lost in
the river. My opera glass was of assistance in finding the birds in
the grass; they were quite abundant almost within rifle-shot of town,
and it seemed strange that the officers of the post did not devote
their leisure to snipe hunting.
Our snipe was cooked, for dinner, and equalled any I ever saw at
Delmonico’s. We had a wild goose at the same meal, and after a careful
trial I can pronounce the Siberian goose an edible bird. He is not
less cunning than wild geese elsewhere, but with all his adroitness he
frequently falls into the hands of man and graces his dinner table.
On the northern horizon, twenty or thirty miles from Michael Semenof,
there is a range of high and rugged mountains. As we left the town,
near the close of day, the clouds broke in the west and the sunshine
lighted up these mountains and seemed to lift them above their real
position. With the red and golden colors of the clouds; the lights and
shadows of the mountains; the yellow forests of autumn, and the green
plains near the river; the stillness broken only by our own motion or
the rippling of the river, the scene was ‘most fair to look upon.’ I
have never seen sunsets more beautiful than those of the Amoor.
[Illustration: ARMED AND EQUIPPED.]
I rose early in the morning to look at the mouth of the Songaree.
Under a cloudy moon I could distinguish little beyond the outline of
the land and the long low water line where the Amoor and Songaree
sweep at right angles from their respective valleys. Even though it
was not daylight I could distinguish the line of separation, or union,
between the waters of the two streams, just as one can observe it
where the Missouri and Mississippi unite above Saint Louis. I would
have given much to see this place in full daylight, but the fates
willed it otherwise.
This river is destined at some time to play an important part in
Russian and Chinese diplomacy. At present it is entirely controlled by
China, but it appears on all the late maps of Eastern Siberia with
such minuteness as to indicate that the Russians expect to obtain it
before long. Formerly the Chinese claimed the Songaree as the real
Amoor, and based their argument on the fact that it follows the
general course of the united stream and carried a volume of water as
large as the other. They have now abandoned this claim, which the
Russians are entirely willing to concede. Once the fact established
that the Songaree is the real Amoor, the Russians would turn to the
treaty which gives them “all the land north of the Amoor.” Their next
step would be to occupy the best part of Manjouria, which would be
theirs by the treaty.
By far the larger portion of Manjouria is drained by the Songaree and
its tributaries. The sources of this river are in the Shanalin
mountains, that separate Corea from Manjouria, and are ten or twelve
thousand feet high. They resemble the Sierra Nevadas in having a lake
twelve miles in circumference as high in air as Lake Tahoe. The
affluents of the Songaree run through a plateau in some places densely
wooded while in others it has wide belts of prairie and marshy ground.
A large part of the valley consists of low, fertile lands, through
which the river winds with very few impediments to navigation.
Very little is known concerning the valley, but it is said to be
pretty well peopled and to produce abundantly. M. De la Bruniere when
traveling to the country of the Gilyaks in 1845, crossed this valley,
and found a dense population along the river, but a smaller one
farther inland. The principal cities are Kirin and Sansin on the main
stream, and Sit-si-gar on the Nonni, one of its tributaries. The
Songaree is navigable to Kirin, about thirteen hundred versts from the
Amoor, and it is thought the Nonni can be ascended to Sit-si-gar. The
three cities have each a population of about a hundred thousand.
According to the treaty of 1860 Russian merchants with proper
passports may enter Chinese territory, but no more than two hundred
can congregate in one locality. Russian merchants have been to all the
cities in Manjouria, but the difficulties of travel are not small. The
Chinese authorities are jealous of foreigners, and restrict their
movements as much as possible.
The Russians desire to open the Songaree to commerce, but the Chinese
prefer seclusion. A month before my visit a party ascended the river
to ascertain its resources. A gentleman told me the Chinese used every
means except actual force to hinder the progress of the steamer and
prevent the explorers seeing much of the country. Whenever any one
went on shore the people crowded around in such numbers that nothing
else could be seen. Almost the whole result of the expedition was to
ascertain that the river was navigable and its banks well peopled.
In the dim light of morning I saw some houses at the junction of the
rivers, and learned they were formerly the quarters of a Manjour
guard. Until 1864 a military force, with two or three war junks, was
kept at the mouth of the Songaree to prevent Russian boats ascending.
Mr. Maximowicz, the naturalist, endeavored in 1859 to explore the
river as far as the mouth of the Nonni. Though his passport was
correct, the Manjour guard ordered him to stop, and when he insisted
upon proceeding the Celestial raised his matchlock. Maximowicz
exhibited a rifle and revolver and forced a passage.
He was not molested until within forty miles of San-Sin, when the
natives came out with flails, but prudently held aloof on seeing the
firearms in the boat. Finding he could not safely proceed, the
gentleman turned about when only twenty-five miles below the city.
After passing the Songaree I found a flat country with wide prairies
on either side of the river. In the forest primeval the trees were
dense and large, and where no trees grew the grass was luxuriant. The
banks were alluvial and evidently washed by the river during times of
freshet. There were many islands, but the windings of the river were
more regular than farther down. I saw no native villages and only two
or three fishing stations. Those acquainted with the river say its
banks have fewer inhabitants there than in any other portion.
On the Russian shore there were only the villages established by
government, but notwithstanding its lack of population, the country
was beautiful. With towns, plantations, and sugar-mills, it would
greatly resemble the region between Baton Rouge and New Orleans. I
could perceive that the volume of the river was much diminished above
its junction with the Songaree.
At long and rare intervals snags were visible, but not in the
navigable channel. We took soundings with a seven foot pole attached
to a rope fastened to the rail of the boat. A man threw the pole as if
he were spearing fish, and watched the depth to which it descended.
The depth of water was shouted in a monotonous drawl. “_Sheiste;
sheiste polivinnay; sem; sem polivinnay;_” and so on through the
various quantities indicated. I thought the manner more convenient
than that in use on some of our western rivers.
While smoking a cigar on the bridge I was roused by the cry of
“_tigre! tigre_!” from Borasdine. I looked to where he pointed on the
Chinese shore and could see an animal moving slowly through the grass.
It may have been a tiger, and so it was pronounced by the Russians who
saw it; I have never looked upon a real tiger outside of a menagerie,
and am not qualified to give an opinion. I brought my opera glass and
Borasdine Iris rifle, but the beast did not again show himself.
Provoked by this glimpse my companions retired to the cabin and made a
theoretical combat with the animal until dinner time.
The day was made memorable by a decent dinner; the special reason for
it was the fact that Borasdine had presented our caterer with an old
coat. I regretted I could not afford to reduce my wardrobe, else we
would have secured another comfortable repast. Both steward and cook
were somewhat negligently clad, and possibly a spare garment or two
might have opened their hearts and larders.
Of course the sight of the tiger led to stories about his kindred, and
we whiled away a portion of the evening in narrating incidents of a
more or less personal character. An officer, who was temporarily our
fellow-passenger, on his way to one of the Cossack posts, a few miles
above, gave an account of his experience with a tiger on the Ousuree.
I was out (said he) on a survey that we were making on behalf of the
government to establish the boundary between Russia and China. The
country was then less known than now; there were no settlements along
the river, and with the exception of the villages of the natives,
thirty or forty miles apart, the whole country was a wilderness. At
one village we were warned that a large tiger had within a month
killed two men and attacked a third, who was saved only by the sudden
and unexpected appearance of a party of friends. We prepared our
rifles and pistols, to avoid the possibility of their missing fire in
case of an encounter with the man-stealing beast. Rather reluctantly
some of the natives consented to serve us as guides to the next
village. We generally found them ready enough to assist us, as we paid
pretty liberally for their services, and made love to all the young
women that the villages contained. With an eye to a successful
campaign, I laid in a liberal supply of trinkets to please these
aboriginals, and found that they served their purposes admirably. So
the natives were almost universally kind to us, and their reluctance
to accompany us on this occasion showed the great fear they
entertained of the tiger.
We were camped on the bank of the Ousuree, about ten miles from the
village, and passed the night without disturbance. In the morning,
while we were preparing for breakfast, one of the natives went a few
hundred yards away, to a little pond near, where he thought it
possible to spear some salmon. He waded out till he was immersed to
his waist, and then with his spear raised, stood motionless as a
statue for several minutes. Suddenly he darted the spear into the
water and drew out a large salmon, which he threw to the shore, and
their resumed his stationary position. In twenty minutes he took three
or four salmon, and then started to return to camp. Just as he climbed
the bank and had gathered his fish, a large tiger darted from the
underbrush near by, and sprung upon him as a cat would spring upon a
mouse.
Stopping not a moment, the tiger ran up the hillside and disappeared.
I was looking toward the river just as the tiger sprang upon him, and
so were two of the natives; we all uttered a cry of astonishment, and
were struck motionless for an instant, though only for an instant. The
unfortunate man did not struggle with the beast, and as the latter did
not stop to do more than seize him, I suspected that the fright and
suddenness of the attack had caused a fainting fit. I and my Russian
companion seized our rifles, and the natives their spears, and started
in pursuit.
We tracked the tiger through the underbrush, partly by the marks left
by his feet, but mainly by the drops of blood that had fallen from his
victim. Going over a ridge, we lost the trail, and though we spread
out and searched very carefully, it was nearly an hour before we could
resume the pursuit. Every minute seemed an age, as we well knew that
the tiger would thus gain time to devour his prey. Probably I was less
agitated than the natives, but I freely and gladly admit that I have
never had my nerves more unstrung than on that occasion, though I have
been in much greater peril. We searched through several clumps of
bushes, and examined several thickets, in the hope of finding where
the tiger had concealed himself. The natives approached all these
thickets with fear and trembling, so that most of the searching was
done by the Russian members of the party.
Just as we were beating around a little clump of bushes, fifteen or
twenty yards across, my companion on the other side shouted:
“Look out; the tiger is preparing to spring upon you.” Instantly I
cocked my rifle and fired into the bushes; they were so dense that I
could hardly discern the outline of the beast, who had me in full
view, and was crouching preparatory to making a leap. I called to my
friend to shoot, as the density of the thicket made it very probable
that my fire would be lost, by the ball glancing among the shrubbery.
But my friend was in the same predicament, and I quickly formed a plan
of operations.
[Illustration: GENERAL ACTIVITY.]
We were both good shots, and I thought our safety lay in killing the
beast as he rose in the air. Aiming at his head, I stepped slowly
backward, and shouted to my friend to cover the tiger and shoot as he
sprang. All this occurred in less time than I tell of it. Hardly had I
stepped two paces backward when the tiger leaped toward me. As he
rose, his throat was exposed for a moment, and I planted a bullet in
his breast. Simultaneously a ball from the other rifle struck his
side. We fired so closely together that neither of us heard the report
of the other’s weapon. The tiger gave a roar of agony, and despite the
wounds he received, either of which would have been fatal, he
completed his spring so nearly that he caught me by the foot and
inflicted a wound that lamed me for several months, and left permanent
scars.
The natives, hearing the report of our rifles, came to our assistance,
and so great was their reverence for the tiger, that they prostrated
themselves before his quivering body, and muttered some words which I
could not understand.
Though assured that the beast was dead, they hesitated to enter the
thicket to search for the body of their companion, and it was only on
my leading the way that they entered it.
We found the remains of the poor native somewhat mutilated, though
less so than I expected. There was no trace of suffering upon his
features, and I was confirmed in my theory that he fainted the moment
he was seized, and was not conscious afterward. His friends insisted
upon burying the body where they found it, and said it was their
custom to do so. They piled logs above the grave, and after the
observance of certain pagan rites, to secure the repose of the
deceased, they signified their readiness to proceed.
The tiger was one of the largest of his kind. I had his skin carefully
removed, and sent it with my official report to St. Petersburg. A
Chinese mandarin who met me near Lake Hinka offered me a high price
for the skin, but I declined his offer, in order to show our Emperor
what his Siberian possessions contained.
[Illustration: TAIL PIECE—FLASK]