_THE SHILKA._
Departure from Kara.--Parting hospitality.--Ust-Kara
police-master.--Head waters of the Shilka.--Collins’s descent
of Ingoda.--The Onon.--Formation of Shilka.--Scenery below
Stretinsk.--Shilkinsk.--Hospitality of police-master.--Non-arrival
of steamer.--Efforts at conversation.--Steaming down
the river.--Shilka scenery.--Tributaries from north and
south.--Arrival at confluence of Shilka and Argun.
My steamer was due at Ust-Kara on Sunday evening. It was arranged,
therefore, that my host should drive me to the river and see me off;
or, if the steamer did not come, then leave me to wait its arrival in
the house of the police-master. The colonel was pleased to say that he
regretted my departure. He seldom received visits of the kind I had
paid, which naturally had been more pleasant, he said, than inspection
visits of officials. He alluded, however, to a visit to Kara of the
Grand Duke Alexei-Alexeivitch as having done much good, and he was
desirous of gathering all the information he could respecting our
treatment of criminals in England.
The colonel’s farewell did not end in words, for, like a true Russian,
he made ample provision for his parting guest. Some Tunguses had
passed a few days previously, of whom he had bought a box, of native
manufacture, both curious and useful, and this he proceeded to fill
for me with the good things of Kara. These included roast chickens
and a piece of boiled ham. Preserves, too, my host had discovered that
I liked, and I must therefore take some pots of jam recently made.
Did I like cheese? Well--at home, half a pound would suffice me for
a twelvemonth; but in Siberia, where good butter was scarce, and a
cheese cost ten shillings, I had learned to regard it as a delicacy.
The colonel therefore insisted on my taking the greater part of a Dutch
bowler, and he regretted that he could not offer me the only piece he
had of what looked like Cheddar, because he was expecting a visit from
his Excellency the Governor of the province, and wanted a delicacy
to set before him. The extreme kindness with which this was done was
almost embarrassing. In England it would appear strange, but in the
district of the Amur these were presents not to be despised, for some
of them I could have otherwise obtained neither for love nor money.
At last we set out duly laden, intending to call on our way at the
prisons I had not yet seen. Packing, however, had taken rather long;
and when we came to the first prison, where the officer was standing
ready to receive us, I was afraid we should not have time, and that our
staying might involve the missing of the steamer. I therefore begged
that we might push on, which we did, to Ust-Kara. Here I looked over
various buildings, which have been already referred to, as the summer
hospital, with 93 patients, the women’s wards, and the wards for the
old and superannuated men, also the new cellular prison for politicals,
and a prison in which they manufacture various requisites for the use
of the convicts. In this last, five men wished to sing to us a piece of
Church music, which they did, and thus ended my visits to five of the
six prisons of Kara. Evening was now drawing on, and as the boat had
not come, I was consigned to the care of the police-master, and bade
adieu to Colonel Kononovitch with feelings of regret.
From Ust-Kara the steamer was to bear me to the Amur. This will be a
convenient place, therefore, from which to say something further about
the head waters of that river, namely, of the Ingoda and Onon, which
form the Shilka; and the Argun, which, with the Shilka, forms the Amur.
The Argun, Onon, and Ingoda all rise in the Kentai (or Khangai) and
Yablonoi mountains. From the summit of this latter range the traveller
approaching Chita from the west first sees the Ingoda at the foot of
the range. From Chita to Stretinsk the journey can be made by water,
and Mr. Collins, the first American traveller in this region, in 1858,
so accomplished it.[1] On the fourth day he passed the river Onon,
coming in from the south. This stream rises in the same district, but
somewhat further south than the Ingoda, and in its upper course its
banks are wooded. It is navigable all the summer.
By the union of the Ingoda with the Onon is formed the Shilka, and at
the junction the two rivers have each run a course of some 400 miles.
The stream now increases in breadth and slightly in depth, so that,
when not frozen, the river can be navigated at all seasons in small
boats, though with some risk from the numerous sandbanks and rapids.
About 40 miles below the Onon, the Nertcha enters from the north, and
here stands the old city of Nertchinsk, not far from which the floating
traveller passes the monastery of Nertchinsky, and subsequently arrives
at Stretinsk.
It was from this spot I commenced the descent of the Shilka with my
Cossack attendant. As we glided along, hour after hour, the shifting
scenes reminded one of some grand spectacle in a fairy tale, for bend
after bend, and point after point, opened to view landscapes and vistas
of surpassing beauty. Now and then we had to beware of rapids, and
in one place of a sunken rock called the “Devil’s Elbow.” The depth
sufficed for our boat, but we met a steamer coming up stream, whose
captain had a hard task to find and keep the channel.
Between Stretinsk and Shilkinsk the left bank is fairly populated,
most of the necessaries of life are easily attainable, and fish and
game are abundant. Granite predominates on both banks of the river as
far as the third station, Botti, beyond which limestone prevails. The
cliffs become lofty, some of them about 1,000 feet, and their summits
are riven into numerous picturesque turrets, while beneath are openings
leading into caverns. A few miles further the valley of the Shilka
opens out, and the rocks recede for a considerable distance till they
reach the valley of Tchalbu-tchenskoi, down the centre of which flows
the river Tchal-bu-tche.
On the space formed by the receding rocks stands Shilkinskoi Zavod, a
town stretching two miles along the river on a plateau 30 feet high.
This was the seat of an old convict silver-mining establishment, the
working of which has ceased long since.[2] The river here has a breadth
of 600 yards, with a current of four knots, and in the spring a depth
of seven feet on the shallows, but in the summer and autumn the depth
is much less.
On the second day we came in sight of a large house on the left bank,
where I landed, thinking perhaps to find some one to speak to. At the
various stations I had given tracts, and, in a small way, found a ready
sale for New Testaments. I offered the same at this large house, which
proved to be that of a doctor, but he was not at home. His wife was
in the house, but we had no language in common, and therefore my sale
had to be conducted here, as at the post-houses, by dumb motions, one
question about the hour being put and answered, I remember, by drawing
a clock and marking the hands. Ten miles further was Ust-Kara, whence
I digressed into a description of the headwaters of the Amur.
After bidding adieu to Colonel Kononovitch, on Sunday evening the 27th
July, I was waiting in the house of the police-master for the arrival
of the steamer. This worthy official was several degrees lower in
position and intelligence than my late host, but he had a good house,
and spared no pains to make me comfortable. He was living bachelor
fashion, his wife and daughters having gone on a tour to Irkutsk. This
he regretted, and so did I, for I was given to understand that they
spoke French; and it was not particularly lively to be in a house in
which you could speak a word to no one, especially with a host who
would insist upon talking, whether you understood or not. One hour
passed by, and two, and three, and the expected whistle was not heard,
till, night having fairly set in, my host made me understand that the
steamer had run aground.
It seemed best, therefore, to go to bed, hoping for its appearance in
the morning. A bed was made for me on the floor of the best room in the
house, but no washing apparatus provided. The maid was to be called in
the morning to do the part of a Levite, and pour water on my hands.
I was not, however, to retire supperless, and whilst food was being
prepared the police-master begged me to try his piano. Accordingly,
I strummed three tunes, which represent my stock-in-trade in this
department, and my host nodded satisfaction. At supper he rattled away,
and it was in vain that I shook my head and replied, “_Ne govoriu po
Russki_” (I do not speak Russ). He returned to the charge afresh, until
I was glad to retire.
Morning came, but not the steamer, and after breakfast I was writing,
when it occurred to me that if the steamer were aground, it might
be days or even weeks before it arrived, and at last I thought it
desirable to inquire for particulars. A military officer came in, but
I could extract from him no language I knew. Presently, however, the
police-master brought a piece of paper that gave me hope. It was a
polyglot letter to this effect: “Respected Sir, I should be glad to
be allowed to teach your children French, which language I know. Your
obedient servant, So-and-So.” And this was written in Russian, French,
German, and English, and, as a finale, was added, “Sic transit gloria
mundi.” I saw at once there was a genius in the place,--perhaps a
released exile, or the wife of one, and I requested my host by signs to
bring us together at once. But I think the said genius must have been
away, for the police-master was holding a discussion with the officer
as if there were some difficulty in the matter, when, as they were
talking, the steamer’s whistle was heard.
The effect was magical. I rushed to make ready. The carriage was
before the door in a very few minutes, and the police-master, who was
expecting his family by the boat, was speedily with me, my baggage on
the vehicle, and we dashed off to the station. Here I was introduced to
the wife and family, and also to a lady who I fancy was the authoress
of the polyglot paper,[3] after which I embarked.
The weather was beautiful, and we steamed down the lovely Shilka
150 miles to its junction with the Argun. The first station beyond
Ust-Kara was Ust-Chorney. Here the Chorney, or Black river, falls into
the Shilka by two channels. This river is so rapid, and sometimes
so violent, as to dash the passing boat or raft a wreck against the
opposite rock-bound shore. Further on the scenery changes on the south
side. Perpendicular cliffs of limestone appear with groups of birch
and larch on their tops, and in the small ravines. Over these rounded
summits appear, and a long chain of hills stretches southwards towards
the Argun.
The next station is Gorbitza, near the mouth of the Gorbitza river.
Until 1854 this was the boundary of the Russian and Chinese empires. At
Bogdoi, not far distant, is a mineral spring where annually a fair was
held, at which a few Russian merchants and Cossacks used to assemble to
meet the Manchu who came to barter. The Manchu ascended the Amur from
Aigun in large boats, bringing printed cotton goods, silk, tobacco,
and Chinese brandy, which they exchanged for glassware, soap, and
deer-horns.
Below Gorbitza the river enters a region where the cliffs rise
considerably higher than in the limestone. Here granite is heaved up
in huge masses, which time, frost, and sun have riven and shattered
into curious forms. Ravines are also rent far into the mountains, and
down them clear streams descend. A little further on the shores become
wooded, pine-trees grow along the banks, and on the upper slopes are
black and white birches, with occasional clumps of larch, while the
dwarf elm grows from the clefts in the rocks.
Mineral springs are frequently met with on the banks of the Shilka. To
some the natives resort. Further down are several islands, upon one of
which, named “Sable” island, are pine, larch, and birch. At the river
Bankova, having its source in the mining district near the Argun, and
falling into the Shilka from the south, there is another place where
a fair was held by the Cossacks of the Argun and the Tunguses of the
Yablonoi, the latter bringing skins, deer-horns, and a few sable and
fox skins. These they bartered with the Cossacks for flour, _vodka_,
powder, and lead. Further on, and not far from the confluence of the
Shilka and Argun, the Son-ghe-noi enters the Shilka to the south, and
at a short distance is a lake from which the natives and Cossacks
obtain their supplies of salt. A few miles below Son-ghe-noi are two
islands in the Shilka, and a little beyond these the sandstone rocks
rise abruptly in picturesque forms from the water. The rocks recede to
the southward, and a small delta has formed extending to the mouth of
the Argun. Near it is the village of Ust-Strelka,[4] or Arrow mouth,
situated at the junction of the two rivers which form the Amur, and
here I arrived on Wednesday evening, the 30th of July.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] The Russians at that time were engaged in the annexation of the
Amur territory, and the Governor, General Korsakoff, willingly lent
him aid. He embarked at Atalan, about eight miles below Chita, in a
flat-bottomed barge. Here the river is 200 yards wide, and the shores
are well timbered and mountainous. The river proved easy to navigate,
and Mr. Collins, his provisions, and 18 persons proceeded down the
stream at the rate of nearly five miles an hour. The country on the
third day became more open, with extensive high-rolling prairies, and
the banks of the stream afforded much beautiful scenery. On the 21st
May the forests were still leafless, though flowers were making their
appearance, and the willows were budding. The rocks of the river are in
many parts covered with mosses and a beautiful fern, and in sheltered
spots appears in summer the rhubarb plant.
[2] At Shilkinsk were built several of the barges for the first great
expedition on the Amur in 1854, and here the expedition was fitted
out with military stores and other necessaries. The Government had,
too, in the place a glass factory and a very large tan-yard, but I
have a suspicion that these factories were much more important in the
days when Messrs. Atkinson, Collins, and Ravenstein wrote, than a
quarter of a century later, at the time of my visit. Up to this point
at least I could hear of no factories in Siberia, other than those I
have mentioned. At Ekaterineburg there was a paper-mill, belonging to
Mr. Yates, at whose house I dined; and there were the soap and candle
works, near which I stayed, and where, through difficulty of getting a
sufficiency of fuel, they were burning wood and rubbish, and with the
gas produced therefrom, through a two-feet tube, were heating some of
the boilers.
[3] “Une sage femme,” she called herself, who had been acting in her
capacity as midwife, and had returned by the boat. Women alone, I
understand, act in this capacity in Russia,--a doctor being called in
only in case of difficulty.
[4] Here the Shilka ends its course of 700 miles, and is joined by the
Argun, after a course of 1,000 miles. The Argun proper rises among the
Nertchinsk ore mountains, at an elevation of from 2,000 to 3,000 feet,
and very near to the source of the Onon, the two streams running down
the northern and southern slopes respectively of the mountain-range.
The upper part of the Argun, however, rises as the Kerulen to the
south-east of Kiakhta, in the Kentai (or Khangai) mountains. For 550
miles the Kerulen traverses one of the most inhospitable tracts of the
Gobi. It then runs through the Dalai Nor or Lake, and flows into the
Argun proper, by which name the lower course of the river is known;
and then, after flowing 420 miles further, it joins the Shilka at
Ust-Strelka.