The second day above the mountains we passed a region of wide prairie
stretching far to the north and bearing a dense growth of rank grass
and bushes, with a few clumps of trees. On the Chinese side there were
hills that sloped gently to the river’s edge or left a strip of meadow
between them and the water. Many hills were covered with a thin forest
of oaks and very little underbrush. At a distance the ground appeared
as if carefully trimmed for occupation, especially as it had a few
open places like fields. In the sere and yellow leaf of autumn these
groves were charming, and I presume they are equally so in the fresh
verdure of summer.
If by some magic the Amoor could be transferred to America, and change
its mouth from the Gulf of Tartary to the Bay of New York, a multitude
of fine mansions would soon rise on its banks.
Among the islands that stud this portion of the river we passed the
steamer Constantine with two barges in tow. She left Nicolayevsk
twelve days before us, and her impediments made her journey a slow
one. Her barges were laden with material for the Amoor telegraph, then
under construction. About the same time we met the Nicolai towing a
barge with a quantity of cattle destined for the garrison at the mouth
of the river. The Nicolai was the property of a merchant (Mr. Ludorf)
at Nicolayevsk.
The village of Poyarkof, where we stopped for wood, impressed me very
favorably. It was carefully laid out, and its single street had a wide
and deep ditch on each side, crossed by little bridges. The houses
were well built and had an air of neatness, while all the fences were
substantial. Very few persons visited the boat, most of the
inhabitants being at work in the fields. We walked through the
settlement, and were shown specimens of wheat and rye grown in the
vicinity. Four or five men, directed by a priest, were building a
church, and two others were cutting plank near by with a primitive
‘up-and-down’ saw. The officer controlling the village was temporarily
absent with the farm laborers. All around there were proofs of his
energy and industry.
This village was one of the military colonies of the Province of the
Amoor. When in proper hands the military settlement is preferable to
any other, as the men are more accustomed to obeying orders and work
in greater harmony than the peasants. What is most needed is an
efficient and energetic chief to each village, who has and deserves
the confidence of his people. With enough of the _fortiter in re_ to
repress any developments of laziness and prevent intemperance, such a
man can do much for the government and himself.
If His Imperial Majesty will take nine-tenths of his present military
force on the Amoor, place it in villages, allow the men to send for
their families, and put the villages in the hands of proper chiefs
under a general superintendent, he will take a long step toward making
the new region self-sustaining. We have ample proof in America that an
army is an expensive luxury, and the cost of maintaining it is
proportioned to its strength. The verb ‘to soldier’ has a double
meaning in English, and will bear translation. On distant stations
like the Amoor, the military force could be safely reduced to a small
figure in time of peace. Less play and more work would be better for
the country and the men.
As we proceeded up the river there was another change of the native
population. The tents of the Birars disappeared, and we entered the
region of the Manjours and Chinese. The captain called my attention to
the first Manjour village we passed. The dwellings were one story
high, their walls being of wood with a plastering of mud. The chimneys
were on the outside like those of the Goldees already described, and
the roofs of the houses were thatched with straw.
The Manjour villages are noticeable for the gardens in and around
them. Each house that I saw had a vegetable garden that appeared well
cultivated. In the corner of nearly every garden I observed a small
building like a sentry box. In some doubt as to its use, I asked
information of my Russian friends, and learned it was a temple where
the family idols are kept and the owners go to offer their prayers.
[Illustration: A PRIVATE TEMPLE.]
Near each village was a grove which enclosed a public temple on the
plan of a church in civilized countries. The temple was generally a
square house, built with more care and neatness than the private
dwellings. On entering, one found himself in a kind of ante-room,
separated from the main apartment by a pink curtain. This curtain has
religious inscriptions in Chinese and Manjour. In the inner apartment
there are pictures of Chinese deities, with a few hideous idols carved
in wood. A table in front of the pictures receives the offerings of
worshippers.
The Manjours appear very fond of surrounding their temples with trees,
and this is particularly noticeable on account of the scarcity of wood
in this region. Timber comes from points higher up the Amoor, where it
is cut and rafted down. Small trees and bushes are used as fuel and
always with the strictest economy. The grove around the temple is held
sacred, as among the Druids in England, and I presume a native would
suffer long from cold before cutting a consecrated tree.
Along the river near the first village several boats were moored or
drawn on the bank out of reach of the water. A few men and women stood
looking at us, and some of them shouted ‘_mendow_’ when we were
directly opposite their position. Of course we returned their
salutation.
Unlike the aboriginals lower down the river, the Manjours till the
soil and make it their chief dependence. I saw many fields where the
grain was uncut, and others where it had been reaped and stacked. The
stacks were so numerous in proportion to the population that there
must be a large surplus each year. Evidently there is no part of the
Amoor valley more fertile than this. Horses and cattle were grazing in
the meadows and looked up as we steamed along. We passed a dozen
horses drinking from the river, and set them scampering with our
whistle.
The horse is used here for carrying light loads, but with heavy
burdens the ox finds preference. Along the Chinese shore I frequently
saw clumsy carts moving at a snail-like pace between the villages.
Each cart had its wheels fixed on an axle that generally turned with
them. Frequently there was a lack of grease, and the screeching of the
vehicle was rather unpleasant to tender nerves.
Near the village we met a Manjour boat, evidently the property of a
merchant. The difference between going with and against the current
was apparent by comparing the progress of this boat with the one I saw
in the Buryea mountains. One struggled laboriously against the stream,
but the other had nothing to do beyond keeping where the water ran
swiftest. This one carried a small flag, and was deeply laden with
merchandise. The crew was dozing and the man at the helm did not
appear more than half awake.
Villages were passed in rapid succession, and the density of the
population was in agreeable contrast to the desolation of many parts
of the lower Amoor. It was a panorama of houses, temples, groves, and
fields, with a surrounding of rich meadows and gentle hills. There
was a range of low mountains in the background, but on the Russian
shore the flat prairie continued.
In the middle of the afternoon we passed the town of Yah-tou-kat-zou,
situated on the Chinese shore where the river makes a bend toward the
north and east. It had nothing of special interest, but its gardens
were more extensive and more numerous than in the villages below. Just
above it there was a bay forming a neat harbor containing several
boats and barges. When the Chinese controlled the Amoor they occupied
this bay as a dock-yard and naval station. Had my visit been ten or
twelve years earlier I should have seen several war junks anchored
here. When the Russians obtained the river the Chinese transferred
their navy to the Songaree.
From this ancient navy yard the villages stretched in a nearly
continuous line along the southern bank, and were quite frequent on
the northern one. We saw three Manjour women picking berries on the
Russian shore. One carried a baby over her shoulders much after the
manner of the American Indians. These women wore garments of blue
cotton shaped much like the gowns of the Russian peasants. Near them a
boat was moving along the shore, carrying a crew consisting of a man,
a boy, and a dog. The boat, laden with hay, was evidently destined for
‘cows and a market.’ Near it was another boat rowed by two men,
carrying six women and a quantity of vegetables. Some of the women
were sorting the vegetables, and all watched our boat with interest.
From the laughter as we passed I concluded the remarks on our
appearance were not complimentary.
The scene on this part of the river was picturesque. There were many
boats, from the little canoe or ‘dug-out,’ propelled by one man, up to
the barge holding several tons of merchandise. The one-man boats were
managed with a double-bladed oar, such as I have already described.
Nearly every boat that carried a mast had a flag or streamer attached
to it, and some had dragons’ heads on their bows. Would Lindley
Murray permit me to say that I saw one barge manned by ten women?
[Illustration: FISHING IMPLEMENTS.]
Though subsisting mainly by agriculture and pastoral pursuits, the
Manjours devote considerable time to fishing. One fishing implement
bore a faint resemblance to a hand-cart, as it had an axle with two
small wheels and long handles. A frame over the axle sustained a pole,
to which a net was fastened. The machine could be pushed into the
water and the net lowered to any position suitable for entrapping
fish.
Occasionally I saw a native seated on the top of a tripod about ten
feet high, placed at the edge of the river. Here he fished with pole,
net, or spear, according to circumstances. He always appeared to me as
if left there during a freshet and waiting for the river to rise and
let him off.
At one place two boys were seated cross-legged near the water and
fishing with long poles. They were so intent in looking at us that
they did not observe the swell of the steamer until thoroughly
drenched by it. As they stood dripping on the sand they laughed
good-naturedly at the occurrence, and soon seated themselves again at
their employment.
Late in the afternoon I saw a village larger than all the others,
lying in a bend of the river, stretching three or four miles along the
bank and a less distance away from it. This was Igoon, the principal
place of the Chinese on the Amoor, and once possessing considerable
power. Originally the fort and town of Igoon were on the left bank of
the river, four miles below the present site. The location was changed
in 1690, and when the new town was founded it grew quite rapidly. For
a long time it was a sort of Botany Bay for Pekin, and its early
residents were mostly exiles. At present its population is variously
estimated from twenty to fifty thousand. The Chinese do not give any
information on this point, and the Russian figures concerning it are
based upon estimates.
Igoon was formerly the capital of the Chinese ‘Province of the
Arnoor,’ but is now destitute of that honor. The seat of government
was removed about twenty years ago to Sit-si-gar.
As we approached Igoon I could see below it many herds of cattle and
horses driven by mounted men. There was every appearance of
agricultural prosperity. It was near the end of harvest, and most of
the grain was stacked in the fields. Here and there were laborers at
work, and I could see many people on the bank fronting the river.
Around the city were groves enclosing the temples which held the
shrines consecrated to Mongol worship, as the cross is reverenced by
the followers of the Christian faith.
The city had a sombre look, as all the houses were black. The
buildings were of wood plastered with mud, and nearly all of one
story. Over the temples in the city there were flag-staffs, but with
no banners hanging from them or on the outer walls. The governor’s
house and the arsenals were similarly provided with tall poles rising
from the roofs, but here as elsewhere no flags were visible.
Along the beach there were many rafts of logs beside numerous boats
either drawn on shore or moored to posts or stakes. Fishermen and boys
were sitting cross-legged near the water, and the inattention of
several caused their drenching by our swell. Idle men stood on the
bank above the beach, nearly all smoking their little brass pipes with
apparent unconcern. Men and women, principally the latter, were
carrying water from the river in buckets, which they balanced from the
ends of a neck-yoke.
We dropped anchor and threw a line that was made fast by a young
Manjour. On shore we met several residents, who greeted us civilly and
addressed the captain in Russian. Most of the Manjour merchants have
learned enough Russian to make a general conversation, especially in
transacting business.
I was introduced as an American who had come a long distance purposely
to see Igoon. The governor was absent, so that it was not possible to
call on him. We were shown to a temple near at hand, a building
fifteen feet by thirty, with a red curtain at the door and a thick
carpet of matting over a brick pavement. The altar was veiled, but its
covering was lifted to allow me to read, if I could, the inscription
upon it. It stood close to the entrance, like the screen near the door
of a New York bar-room. There were several pictures on the walls, a
few idols, and some lanterns painted in gaudy colors. Outside there
were paintings over the door, some representing Chinese landscapes.
The windows were of lattice work, the roof had a dragon’s head at each
end of the ridge, and a mosaic pavement extended like a sidewalk
around the entire building.
Our guide, who lived near, invited us to his house. We entered it
through his office, which contained a table, three or four chairs, and
a few account books. Out of this we walked into a large apartment used
for lounging by day and sleeping at night. Its principal furniture was
a wide divan, at one side, where the bed clothing of three or four
persons was rolled into neat bundles. It turned out on inquiry that
the man lived in two houses, the principal part of his family being
domiciled several squares away. As time pressed we did not stop longer
than to thank him for his attention.
The streets of Igoon reminded me of New York under the contract system
four or five years ago. We walked through one street upon a narrow log
fixed in the mud, and steadied ourselves against a high fence. On a
larger thoroughfare there were some dry spots, but as there were two
logs to walk upon we balanced very well. Chinese streets rarely have
sidewalks, and every pedestrian must care for himself the best way he
can. The rains the week before my visit had reduced the public ways to
a disagreeable condition. Were I to describe the measurement of the
Broadway of Igoon, I should say its length was two miles, more or
less, its width fifty feet, and its depth two feet.
Our captain carried a sword cane which confused him a little as the
lower part occasionally stuck in the mud and came off. This exposition
of weapons he evidently wished to avoid. On the principal street I
found several stores, and, true to the instinct of the American
abroad, stopped to buy something. The stores had the front open to the
street, so that one could stand before the counter and make his
purchases without entering. The first store I saw had six or seven
clerks and very little else, and as I did not wish a Chinese clerk I
moved to another shop.
For the articles purchased I paid only five times their actual value,
as I afterward learned. The merchants and their employees appeared to
talk Russian quite fluently, and were earnest in urging me to buy. One
of them imitated the tactics of Chatham street, and became very
voluble over things I did not want.
Holding up an article he praised its good qualities and named its
price.
“Five roubles; very good; five roubles.”
I shook my head.
“Four roubles; yes; good; four roubles.”
Again I made a negation.
“Three roubles; very good; yes.”
I continued shaking my head as he fell to two and a half, two, and
finally to one rouble. I left him at that figure, or it is possible he
would have gone still lower.
“They are great rascals,” said Borasdine as we walked away. “They ask
ten times the real price and hope to cheat you in some way. It is
difficult to buy anything here for its actual value.”
We went through more streets and more mud, passing butchers’ shops
where savage dogs growled with that amiable tone peculiar to butcher
dogs everywhere. We passed tea shops, shoe shops, drug stores, and
other establishments, each with a liberal number of clerks. Labor must
be cheap, profits large, or business brisk, to enable the merchants to
maintain so many employees.
At the end of a long street we came to the guard-house, near the
entrance of the military quarters. We entered the dirty barrack, but
saw nothing particularly interesting. I attempted to go inside the
room where the instruments of punishment were kept, but the guard
stood in the way and would not move. The soldiers in this
establishment had evidently partaken of a beverage stronger than tea,
as they were inclined to too much familiarity. One patted me on the
shoulder and pressed my hand affectionately, indulging the while in
snatches of Chinese songs.
In the prison were two or three unfortunates with their feet shackled
so as to prevent their stepping more than four inches at a time. While
we stood there a gaily dressed officer rode past us on a magnificent
horse, reminding me of an American militia hero on training day. We
looked at the fence of palisades, and stepped under the gateway
leading to the government quarter. Over the gate was a small room like
the drawbridge room in a castle of the middle ages. Twenty men could
be lodged there to throw arrows, hot water, or Chinese perfumery on
the invading foe.
A Manjour acquaintance of our captain invited us to visit his house.
We entered through the kitchen, where there was a man frying a kind of
‘twisted doughnut’ in vegetable oil. The flour he used was ground in
the Manjour mills, and lacked the fineness of European or American
flour. Judging by the quantity of food visible the family must have
been a large one.
The head of the household proclaimed himself a Tartar, and said he
was the proprietor of four wives. I smoked a cigar with him, and
during our interview Borasdine hinted that we would like to inspect
his harem. After a little decorous hesitation, he led us across an
open and muddy courtyard to a house where a dozen women were in the
confusion of preparing and eating supper. With four wives one must
have a proportionate number of servants and retainers, else he cannot
maintain ‘style.’
Such a scene of confusion I never saw before in one man’s family.
There were twelve or fifteen children of different ages and sexes, and
not one silent. Some were at table, some quarreling, some going to
sleep, and some waking. Two women were in serious dispute, and the
Tartar words poured out freely. The room was hot, stifling, and filled
with as many odors as the city of Cologne, and we were glad to escape
into the open air as soon as possible. I did not envy that Mongol
gentleman his domestic bliss, and am inclined to think he considered
it no joke to be as much married as he was.
I did not sec any pretty women at Igoon, but learned afterward that
they exist there. The Manjour style of hair-dressing attracts the eye
of a stranger. The men plait the hair after the Chinese manner,
shaving the fore part of the head. The women wind theirs in a peculiar
knot, in about the position of the French chignon. They pierce this
knot with two long pins like knitting needles, and trim it with bright
ribbons and real or artificial flowers. The fashion is becoming, and,
excluding the needles, I would not be surprised to see it in vogue in
Western civilization within half a dozen years.
The men wore long blue coats of cotton or silk, generally the former,
loose linen trousers, fastened at the knee or made into leggings, and
Chinese shoes or boots of skin. The women dress in pantaletts and blue
cotton gowns with short, loose sleeves, above which they wear at times
a silk cape or mantle. They have ear rings, bracelets, and finger
rings in profusion, and frequently display considerable taste in their
adornment. It was nearly sunset when we landed at Igoon, and when we
finished our visit to the Tartar family the stars were out. The delay
of the boat was entirely to give me a view of a Chinese-Manjour city.
Darkness put an end to sight-seeing, and so we hastened to the
steamer, followed by a large crowd of natives.
[Illustration: A CHINESE FAMILY PICTURE.]
We took three or four Manjour merchants as passengers to
Blagoveshchensk. One of them spent the evening in our cabin, but would
neither drink alcoholic beverages nor smoke. This appeared rather odd
among a people who smoke persistently and continually. Men, women, and
children are addicted to the practice, and the amount of tobacco they
burn is enormous.