_THE USSURI AND SUNGACHA._
From Nikolaefsk to Khabarofka.--Proposal to move the port.--Military
forces in the province.--Departure for Kamen Ruiboloff.--The
Ussuri.--Visit to a parish priest.--The native Goldi.--Missions
of the Russian Church.--Pay of missionaries.--Head waters
of Ussuri.--The Sungacha.--Cossacks.--Visit to a Cossack
stanitza.--Chinese houses.--Lake Khanka.--Arrival at Kamen
Ruiboloff.
On Saturday night, August 30th, I left Nikolaefsk for Khabarofka,
pleased with the prospect of travelling 700 miles where no English or
American author had gone before. By Sunday morning we reached Tyr, and
Mariinsk and Sophiisk were passed on Monday.[1]
As we approached Khabarofka, on Thursday evening, summer appeared to
have returned. The small steamer bound for the Ussuri did not start for
24 hours after our arrival, and so I had another day in Khabarofka,
which just then was in a state of excitement. General Tichmeneff was
there, with a commission sent to the Sea-coast government, to consider
whether or not it was desirable to move the port from Vladivostock.
In early years Ayan, and next Petropavlovsk, was the Russian port
in the Pacific; then it was removed to Nijni Kamchatka, afterwards
to Nikolaefsk, and from thence, in 1865, to Vladivostock. From a
strategic point of view the situation of Vladivostock was considered
unsatisfactory, and when it looked possible, in 1878, that England
and Russia might go to war, the apprehensions of the authorities were
aroused, and some of the foreign merchants of the port, preferring not
to run the chance of a siege, decamped to Japan. The question then
was whether the Government should spend some £300,000 or £400,000 in
the defence of Vladivostock, to make it a military as well as a naval
stronghold, or move to another harbour that could be more easily
fortified. This was the talk of the province during my stay, and steam,
telegraph, and postal services seemed busy in doing the behests of the
commission. I caught sight of the general as he and his staff embarked
on the _Onon_ for Nikolaefsk; and I have since heard that he has been
appointed military governor of the province, to live at Khabarofka,
whilst Vladivostock continues as the head-quarters of the fleet, and
Admiral Erdmann has been recalled to Russia, and is now Governor of the
Port of Reval.
I made it my business to call upon Major Evfanoff, the commandant,
as I wished to place Scriptures in the barracks, and to give other
reading material for distribution among soldiers and Cossacks. At
Nikolaefsk I had entrusted upwards of 1,200 books and tracts to Colonel
Ossipoff, which he distributed during my stay; also at Sophiisk I left
a parcel of 500 with Colonel Ussufovitch.[2] The major expressed his
willingness to carry out my wishes at Khabarofka, though he did not
see how the books could be allowed to lie safely in the barrack-rooms
for every one’s use. I was therefore obliged to ask him to carry out
my intentions in the way that was most feasible, and he subsequently
told me that the soldiers were highly pleased, and thankful for the
distribution.
Besides the books left for the barracks and hospital, I did a stroke
of business with the merchant Plusnin, selling him a bundle of 250
tracts, hoping thereby to get them distributed; and had not my stock
failed, I would gladly have sold to him, or sent to Blagovestchensk,
some copies of the Scriptures for the Molokans, who, I heard, are the
largest purchasers, as I suppose they are the greatest readers, of the
Scriptures on the Amur. Thus, having done what I could for Khabarofka,
I prepared to leave it on Friday night, September 5th.
The steamboat agents and officials were exceedingly kind to me,
apparently out of regard to what I was doing. A man said at Nikolaefsk
that the chief director had been staying with him, and had he known
that I was coming on such an errand, he should certainly have asked
for me a free passage. As it was, the clerk would not hear of taking
anything for the carriage of “the holy books,” and a first-class
cabin was given for my sole use at a second-class fare, and this was
repeated on the Ussuri.[3] The great General Tichmeneff had been the
last occupant of my cabin, and it was draped with Brussels carpet,
apparently new, the stately proportions of the room being 6 feet long
by 4 broad and 7 high, which I feared his Excellency, who was bigger
than I in more senses than one, must have found exceedingly small.
The Ussuri, after the Sungari, is the most considerable of the rivers
which join the Amur from the south. It flows from the south-west to the
north-east in the valley that separates the two parallel ridges of the
Shan-alin and the Sikhota-Alin mountains. At Khabarofka it measures
nearly two miles wide, having at its mouth three islands and two
sandbanks, with an ordinary depth of 10 feet, though after the summer
rains it rises to 19 feet. Ascending 25 miles, the width diminishes to
a mile and a half, the depth never exceeding 20 feet. The Ussuri was
chosen in 1860 for a frontier, so that we now had Russian territory on
the left, and Chinese territory on the right. The Chinese bank is for
the most part flat, but the horizon is bounded by low mountain peaks.
The Russian bank is mountainous and richly wooded, being formed of
the western slopes of the coast range, which give birth to a number
of streams, the Chirka, Bikin, Por, and others, which flow in on the
eastern bank of the Ussuri. The largest of the streams flowing in on
the western bank are the Nor, Muren, and Sungacha. At the confluence
of the Chirka the river is a mile and a quarter wide. For 30 miles
further the mountains retire, and the bottom land thus left is richly,
though not thickly, wooded with aspens, willows, oaks, and elms.
Opposite the mouth of the Por, which flows in on the Russian bank, were
a few Chinese houses called Sunchui. We had passed a similar group on
the first day’s travel, and subsequently came to three others, one
of which, opposite Graphskaya, was called Vikul Uima. The right bank
was almost uninhabited. Within 70 miles from Khabarofka we passed,
on the Russian bank, six stations, and among them Kazakevich (where
was a military post, at which I gave some books to Colonel Glen);
Dyachenkova, a village of seven houses; and Trëkh-svyateeteley, or the
“station of three saints.” Another euphonious name was given further on
to a collection of houses called Vidnaya, or “the beautiful,” where the
Ussuri divides into three channels.
On Sunday morning we arrived at Kozloffskaya, or the Goat station,
having a telegraph office and a church. Service was over, and I called
on the priest, John Voskresenskie (which means resurrection), a man
who, if not--
“To all the country dear,
Was passing rich on _sixty_ pounds a year!”
His parish extended along the river’s bank, 30 miles to the north and
50 to the south, and he ministered to 10 villages. To the most distant
he goes eight times a year, to the others once a month.[4]
Most of the houses at Kozloffskaya had gardens, in some of which maize
was growing. There was also a private chapel, erected by one of the
tradesmen. At the next station, Vasilyeva, the Bekin flows in on the
Russian bank, and the mountains here reach their highest.
On Sunday evening we passed a deserted village of 10 log houses,
called Pashkova, from which the inhabitants had migrated in a body
further south. On the Chinese bank the hills, well wooded to the top,
approached the river. In the course of Sunday night we were delayed
nine hours by fog, and during the next day stopped for a chat with a
steam launch, used, if I mistake not, for the telegraph service. This
was the only craft, excepting the canoes of the natives, that we met.
Seven stations more were passed, and on Monday evening we arrived at
Krasnoiarskaia, having completed half our voyage.
The principal natives of the Ussuri are the Goldi. In addition to what
I read and saw of these people, I acquired a great deal of information
from Alexander Protodiakonoff, the priest of Khabarofka, who has been
a missionary hereabouts for 23 years. At Malmuish a missionary, who
had 3,000 Goldi in his district, came on board the _Onon_, from whom I
gathered that he had been a priest only a year, during which time he
had baptized 50 persons. This man called one of the Goldi passengers to
explain to me the use of my Gilyak idols.
The Goldi are of the Tunguse family, and belong to the Mongolian race.
Their number was estimated by Collins at 2,560, but a missionary gave
it me as about 6,000. Their habitat extends along the Amur to the
country of the Gilyaks on the north, and on the south to the Upper
Ussuri, whilst laterally it extends from the mouth of the Sungari to
the sea coast. The mortality among them, as among the Gilyaks, is
great, but they are, nevertheless, thought to be on the increase. Their
physiognomy is distinctly Mongolian. They imitate some of the customs
of the neighbouring Manchu, amongst others that of shaving off the
hair, with the exception of a tail, which they wear on the top of the
head. They do not, as a rule, cultivate the ground, even for garden
produce; and such vegetable food as they use, millet or rice, they
get in exchange for furs. We did, however, pass two or three Goldi
huts where millet was under cultivation, and where the natives looked
unusually dirty. Their houses and clothing I have already spoken of as
resembling those of the Gilyaks.
Their communications with the outside world are extremely limited. The
only foreigners they know are Russians and Chinese. When, therefore,
the natives asked who I was, it was exceedingly difficult to make
them understand, as they had never seen an Englishman before.[5] The
Goldi, long used to dealing with the Manchu, still use their money,
weights, and measures, also their musical instruments. I was told they
do not sing. Each village has its chief or elder, as formerly, under
Manchu rule, but they are gradually becoming Russianized. Twenty years
ago they used to have drunken fights, village with village, but this
practice is now abandoned, and their treatment of the dead is growing
more decent; not that they used, like their Mongolian congeners, the
interior of their dogs for burying-places, the corpse being cut up
and eaten, but they had in each village a house for the dead, which,
in summer, stank so horribly as fairly to drive the people away. In
these buildings the clothes and arms were placed with the corpse, and
children and friends entered from time to time to mourn. A missionary
told me he had seen one of these houses within the past 10 years, but
that now the Goldi bury their dead, as do the Russians.
[Illustration: GOLDI IN WINTER DRESS.]
I spent part of my last evening at Khabarofka at the house of Peter
Alexander, protodiakonoff, or arch deacon, of that town and two
neighbouring villages, with a population of 260. He told me that the
missionary district he superintended, in addition to his parish,
extended from Orlofsk to Ekaterin-Nicolsk on the Amur, and from Busse
on the Ussuri to Khabarofka, a river line of about 700 miles. At
the time of my visit the priest and his brother were engaged on a
translation of the Gospels, and as he did not appear to know how to
get it printed, I recommended him to apply to the British and Foreign
Bible Society, whose obliging and energetic agent in Petersburg,
Mr. Nicolson, had desired me to be on the look-out for new Siberian
translations. The Russian liturgy had been already translated into
Goldi. The priest gave me a photograph of a group of Goldi Christians,
wearing ear and nose rings, and embroidered garments of fish-skin. I
set great store by the picture, for it is a rarity. The natives have
not yet become vain of their faces, and do not like to be photographed.
This group had been taken for the priest who baptized them. In the
background is the village starosta, and in front the patriarch of the
group, whilst a large number of the other figures are women. I know
not whether many of them were the patriarch’s wives, of whom, before
baptism, he intended to have a sale. If so, he must have been rich,
for one of the Goldi, of whom I inquired the price of wives, said that
if paid in money they cost from £50 to £70; and if in goods, then from
four to seven pieces of “stuff,” but he did not say whether it was to
be silk, linen, or blue nankeen.
Peter Alexander, the archdeacon, in 23 years up to October 1878, had
baptized 2,000 natives; 403 were Orochons (he computed them at 3,000 in
his district), and 1,501 were Goldi.[6]
I had heard it stated that the Russian missionaries _pay_ the heathen
to be baptized. One of the missionaries told me that he believed there
were priests who gave rewards to their converts, though he had not done
so, and he thought it possible that a few natives presented themselves
more than once to different priests for baptism, hoping to gain
thereby. Another allegation, that of a nobleman, was that the converts
were “bribed.” But this kind of statement is so frequently made by
those who look coldly on mission work that I did not regard it as
proven. My informant said that he had seen at Irkutsk that they gave to
the Buriats shirts, crosses, and a few roubles; and that often the same
Buriats came again for baptism the following year. Also an Ispravnik,
interested in the Buriat missions, told me they sometimes gave converts
five roubles or so when poor and privately persecuted. Accordingly, I
inquired concerning this of the archdeacon, and he explained by telling
me that the last 400 he had baptized had received nothing, but that
previously each candidate had been supplied, at the expense of the
Missionary Society at Blagovestchensk, with a new shirt, a cross to
hang on the neck, and an ikon. The reason for this would be evident
to any one who knows Siberia. There would be no towns near, where the
Gilyaks, for instance, could buy crosses or ikons, and without the
possession of these I suppose it is doubtful whether a Russian could be
persuaded that he was a Christian at all. Again, the new shirt might
represent the chrisom, or baptismal robe; and even if not, the people’s
ordinary garments (of fish-skin and dog-skin) are so filthy that it
would be only becoming that for once in their lives, at their baptism,
they should look decently clean. The Protodiakonoff told me that on his
journeys he used to take two or three hundred shirts and crosses, stay
in a village for two or three days, and then sometimes baptize as many
as 40 at once, especially when he could bring over a rich man, for then
the poorer ones followed.
I came, therefore, to the conclusion that the charge of bribery on
the part of the missionaries was not well founded; but, on the other
hand, it was equally plain, upon their own showing, that the Russian
missionaries differ widely from the English as to what constitutes
proper qualification for baptism.[7] I asked the priest at Khabarofka
concerning the pay of missionaries, to which he replied that he to
whom I had spoken from Malmuish received £25 per annum, and he himself
received £30 as a missionary, and 241 roubles 62 kopecks, or about
£24, from another source--say £55 in all. Others had represented to
me that he received £250 a year; so perhaps this was exclusive of his
offerings, which I heard might vary from 6_d._ to £1 for baptisms,
and from 6_s._ to £5 for a wedding. Also it is usual to call in the
priest after a death to say a “panychid,” or office, the name of which
suggests a prayer all night long, but which lasts an hour, and for
which it is usual to give from 6_d._ up to £1. Offertories, too, are
collected each Sunday for the priest, orphans, church, etc., according
to the object, for which each of several plates is carried. I gathered
that the support given by the natives to their pastors and the church
consists of the purchase of candles to the extent of a few pence and
an occasional sable-skin. The house and library of the Protodiakonoff
did not look as if its owner had an income of £250 a year; but his home
was neat and clean, though simply furnished, and his wife and daughters
were becomingly dressed. I was glad to hear an excellent report of
this missionary, who was said to be a good man and learned. It was his
custom actually to preach or read a sermon every Sunday, and he had a
crowded church in consequence. I suppose he did not profess that his
sermons were all original; for when, on board the _Onon_, he caught
sight of a tract I had given to the steward’s boy, he immediately
seized it, and wrote thereon “for a sermon.”
I thought this missionary the most hard-working priest I met in
Siberia, and I was very glad to have obtained from him what I
consider such trustworthy information concerning the Goldi. The
last representatives of this race I saw at the little village of
Krasnoiarskaia, 260 miles from Khabarofka, where a man and woman were
standing on the banks. The man had a Manchu matchlock with no butt, but
having a handle something like that of a pistol. It had a flint and
hammer, pulled by a very clumsy trigger. Of the woman I bought her ear-
or nose-ring.
On the fourth day, Tuesday, we arrived early in the morning at Busse,
where was another telegraph station. Up to this point we had passed
on the river 10 tributaries on the right bank, and 17 on the left.
About an hour before noon, we changed our course from the Ussuri to the
Sungacha; but, before leaving the Ussuri, I would observe that its head
waters are formed by the confluence of the Daibecha and the Ulache,
together with several smaller streams. One of them, the Sandugu, rises
only about 50 miles from the coast at Olga Bay, and on the banks of
the Daibecha gold has been found. I learn, too, from the _North China
Herald_, that a few miles from Vladivostock (in what direction is not
stated) coal-mines on a large scale are being opened up by Mr. S.
Morris, whom I met, if I mistake not, and that they promise to yield
well. The Ussuri is navigable several miles higher than Busse, and
could a railway be constructed (to which the country offers, I am told,
no special obstacle) from Vladivostock to the most southern navigable
point of the Ussuri, a means of communication would be made for the
carriage of merchandise and passengers, which would be of the utmost
importance to the Ussuri valley, the only military and commercial route
leading from the Amur to the southern parts of Russian Manchuria.[8]
On the morning of Tuesday, the 9th of September, we entered the
Sungacha. It enters at right angles on the western bank of the Ussuri.
The Sungacha, flowing out of Lake Khanka, is the largest of the
Ussuri tributaries, and the most tortuous river on which I have been.
A straight line from its source to its mouth measures but 60 miles,
whereas along its channel it measures nearly 180 miles, and I do not
think we traversed a single half mile without a bend. Great skill,
therefore, was required in steering both steamer and barge. So sharp
were some of the curves that, when the former had turned the bend,
the two crafts appeared to be proceeding in opposite directions. The
steamer at such times slackened speed, but even then, on the first day,
the barge twice ran into the muddy bank, and temporarily stuck fast.
The Sungacha is from 20 to 60 feet deep, from 100 to 110 feet wide,
with a current of two knots. In some parts it is barely 100 feet wide,
and in two places only from 8 to 12 feet deep.
Black and turbid as was the water of the Ussuri, it was limpid compared
with that of the Sungacha, which was unusable for cooking. A supply
of Ussuri water was therefore taken on board, and this implies a good
deal, since the Siberians are not too nice in this respect, and are
accustomed to the use of river and surface water only. I saw turtles in
the Sungacha, and learned that this river, as well as Lake Khanka and
the Ussuri, abounds with all kinds of fish, especially carp, sterlet,
and salmon.[9]
There joined us at Busse a telegraph officer named Adamson, who spoke
German, and with whom I was able to employ my smattering of that tongue
to good effect. Hitherto I had not exchanged many ideas with my four
fellow first-class passengers, one of whom was a veterinary surgeon,
and two others Russian and Polish officers. The horse-doctor and the
Pole seemed to have no mental resources whatever; and regarding them
as types of Siberian “society,” it was not difficult to understand
the dismal complaint of a physician I met, that he had no congenial
companions, there being nothing cared for in the town above the level
of wine or cards. These two passengers played incessantly, and,
excepting at meals and during sleep, I doubt if cards were out of their
hands for a couple of hours during the passage. One night the Pole,
even after he had gone to bed, got up to play another game. The captain
was very obliging, and gave me a chart he had made of the Ussuri,
which is valuable, there being only two original writers, as far as I
know, on any considerable portion of this river--namely, Venyukoff and
Prejevalsky.[10]
On the day we entered the Sungacha, we came to one station
only--Markova, which was the last collection of houses that could be
dignified with the name of a village. All the stations beyond were
Cossack pickets, and consisted of one or perhaps two houses, at which
horses are kept for the postal service in winter. There were six of
these pickets beyond Markova, making a total of 36 stations between
Khabarofka and Kamen Ruiboloff. Among them are four villages only with
a church--namely, Kazakevich, Ilyinska, Kozloffski, and Venyukova, with
a resident priest to each of the first three. Among the stations were
likewise 21 Cossack stanitzas or settlements, containing from one to a
hundred houses each. Also, between Kamen Ruiboloff and Vladivostock are
ten stanitzas and three churches. Markova was a Cossack stanitza, and
as we stayed there for an hour or two, I enlisted the services of Mr.
Adamson, and peeped at Cossack life.
Cossacks of old were warlike people, who lived a free-and-easy life
on the border, frequently ravaging their neighbours’ herds, whom the
Russians reduced to subjection, but left them many privileges. When
the Amur came into the hands of the Tsar, it became necessary that the
Russian frontier should be guarded, and, if possible, settled. General
Muravieff therefore took many of the children of convicts, called them
Cossacks, and placed them, together with voluntary emigrants from the
Trans-Baikal province, in stations, about 10 miles apart, along the
Amur and the Ussuri. Land was allotted to them, and they were supplied
with cows, horses, farming-stock, and provisions for a year, after
which time they were expected to take care of themselves.[11] The
mounted Cossacks are employed to keep the boundaries, and many of the
foot Cossacks act as police. When not engaged in service they are free
to farm, rear cattle, hunt, or, in fact, turn their hands to what they
please, though they are liable to be called up in time of war, almost
to the depopulation of a whole neighbourhood.[12] This accounted for
the deserted village of Pashkova, and I learned that the service is not
unpopular; for when the Government wanted 800 men wherewith to found a
colony on the shores of Lake Khanka, there was no lack of volunteers--a
circumstance sufficiently explained by the fact that in such cases they
get new farming stock and provisions.[13]
On the Ussuri the Cossacks are expected to keep off the Chinese
smugglers, and even traders, who are not allowed to settle on the
Russian bank except under proper restrictions. Cossack habitations,
therefore, represent the utmost bounds of Russian life.
Markova consisted of rather more than a dozen houses, of which only
seven were inhabited. I entered some of them, and was struck with their
cleanly and orderly arrangement, as compared with the houses of the
Russian peasantry. In the first the floor was strewn with hay, the
walls were whitewashed, and on one of them was displayed a quantity
of table ware, consisting of seven forks, four spoons, and a ladle.
On a plate-shelf stood a teapot, slop-basin, two dishes, and four
plates, a mug, cup, and two glasses. Near the door hung two bundles
of squirrel-skins, and a sheepskin coat, whilst in the corner was a
well-known feature in every Cossack’s house,--a handmill for grinding
corn, worked by the Cossack’s wife. A larger mill in the village was
turned by horse-power, but with the slender result of grinding only
3 cwt. of meal a day. I saw, too, rope made of lime-tree bark, good
for use in the water, and large fish-hooks on which the fish of the
Sungacha hook themselves whilst playing with the float. In another
house was a Cossack’s hunting gun, with a two-legged rest and a flint
lock, which is said still to be preferred to more modern kinds. In a
third house I bought some hazel-nuts. I had been unable to procure any
fruit since leaving Khabarofka, nor could I succeed at Krasnoiarskaya
in getting cucumbers.
After leaving Markova the banks of the Sungacha continued flat, and
were all but uninhabited. Our ceaseless windings on the river continued
till Wednesday evening, when we arrived at Lon Mayo, on the edge of
Lake Khanka, where, on the Chinese bank, were two small houses. They
were inhabited, apparently, by men only, and those very dirty. Within
the house I entered there was an inner compartment, where, among other
objects, I observed a heavy stone for grinding corn, a well-made wicker
shovel, and a huge brandy bottle, or cask, made of a sort of coarse
_papier-maché_. The building was thatched, and at a distance of two
or three yards stood the chimney, constructed of the hollowed trunk
of a tree, and plastered with mud at the bottom. In the yard was a
cart, with clumsy Chinese wheels, and troughs for cattle, hollowed,
like canoes, from the trunks of trees. Bricks, made of mud and rushes,
were drying in the sun, and men were busy pulling hemp into threads.
In the garden was a small heathen temple, the size of a sentry-box,
into which they did not object to my looking. Two poles stood in front,
and inside, a table, with a picture over it, a pan and vase, with
joss-sticks and some fish-hooks. Not far distant I noticed a field of
“buddha” or millet growing, and attempted to approach it by crossing a
boggy plot, but was compelled by mosquitoes to beat a speedy retreat.
The Ussuri and Sungacha are famous for these insects, as was suggested
by the mosquito blinds of the steamer; but a slight breeze and the
comparative lateness of the season delivered us.
The Khanka Lake might be called a “Mediterranean,” for such is the
meaning of the Chinese word “Khan-Kaï,” which the Russians have changed
into Khanka, spelt also Khinka, Hinka, and Kenka.[14] Its superficial
extent is more than 1,200 square miles, but, notwithstanding its size
and high-sounding name, it is little more than a huge inundation, for
its depth is in no part more than seven feet. In early summer one
can sometimes walk into the lake, half a mile from the bank, without
finding more than 10 inches of water. Hence I had been warned that the
steamer might possibly not be able to cross, in which case it would
be necessary to proceed 40 miles through Chinese territory, round the
north of the lake, by a road on which there is but one post-station,
and so to re-enter Russian territory at a point on the north-west
shore; for the frontier does not skirt the lake, but crosses it from
Lon Mayo, at an angle of 45 degrees. My host at Nikolaefsk on one
occasion was obliged to accomplish this journey on the back of a cow.
This, however, I was spared, for the thunderstorms of June and July,
with the south-east winds, had brought their usual supply of rain, and
caused the lake to enlarge, so that it assumed the proportions of an
inland sea. At ordinary times the Khanka is divided into two parts,
the “great lake” and the “little lake,” which latter is also called
“the Dobuka.” From the captain’s chart I calculated it to be 20 miles
long by three wide. The two lakes are separated by a sandy strand,
of regular proportions, bending towards the north in such a manner
as to continue with exactness the curves of the banks from the east
and west. This strand, developing its arc with geometrical precision,
is only like many others found on the shores of the ocean; but few
similar cases occur on the banks of a lake of such comparatively small
extent. Such strands, for the most part, are formed when the locality
is sheltered from the winds, which do not come regularly from the same
quarter.[15]
I suppose that the water is sometimes rough, for the good-natured
captain kindly inquired whether I should be afraid if the boat rocked
about. I had not at that time traversed two oceans, but was able to
assure him, nevertheless, that I hoped for the best. The windows were
as solemnly closed and battened as if we were about to cross the
Atlantic; and towards night we steamed into the lake, to find it as
calm as a mill-pond. After steering south-east for about 50 miles we
arrived, at dawn, at Kamen Ruiboloff, or the Fisherman’s Stone, thus
finishing a voyage from Khabarofka of 466 miles, or 510 if we had gone
to the stations on the shores of the lake.
We had made a quicker passage than was expected; perhaps partly to
be accounted for by an “attraction” which no doubt influenced the
captain. He spoke a little French, and communicated to me that on the
day after our arrival he was to be married to the niece of the merchant
Plusnin, of Khabarofka. They have certain domestic and semi-religious
preliminaries to a Russian wedding, as I have stated, which I was
anxious to see, for we have nothing corresponding to them in England;
but unfortunately I missed the opportunity at Kamen Ruiboloff, for
although I rose soon after daylight, the captain had fled, and I
hastened to proceed, remembering well that the foremost traveller at
the post-house gets the untired horses.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] At all of these places I distributed tracts or sold my books,
some of the latter at a shilling each; but the people purchased them
so readily that I had not a sufficient supply. In this work I had a
willing helper in Captain Stjerncreutz, who in his university days
had learned a little English from a lady at Helsingfors. At our
stopping-places he usually became the medium through whom I gave a
bundle of books to the local priest, to be distributed to the Russians.
Some of these priests worked also as missionaries to the Gilyaks. I met
one at Tyr, and another, Peter Logimof, at Mikhailofsk. The last told
me he had baptized 200 aborigines in seven years.
[2] I learned that in the Primorsk were 6 battalions of infantry,
namely, at Nikolaefsk, Sophiisk, Khabarofka, Sakhalin, Kamen-Ruiboloff,
and Vladivostock; and 8 batteries of horse-artillery, namely, at
Nikolaefsk, Khabarofka, Sakhalin, Nicolsk, and Paseat. From the
“Russian Officers’ Handbook,” published at Petersburg by the Ministry
of War, it appeared that the number of soldiers in East Siberia,
in 1878, was 17,610, with 130 guns; namely, 10,640 infantry, 1,300
artillery, 270 sappers and miners, and 5,400 irregular cavalry. More
particularly they read as follows:--
Infantry.--Blagovestchensk, 400; Irkutsk, 900; Chita, 300; Stretinsk,
240; Yakutsk, 700; Kara, 470; Kiakhta, 470; Nertchinsk, 470; Sakhalin,
1,100; Olga Bay, 180; Paseat, 340; Vladivostock, 1,000; Kamen
Ruiboloff, 1,000; Sophiisk, 1,000; Khabarofka, 800; Nikolaefsk, 800; De
Castries Bay, 400; Barracouta Bay, 70.
Heavy artillery.--Chita, 250; Khabarofka, 250; Nikolaefsk, 800.
Field artillery.--16 batteries, of which 8 were in the Primorsk, of 8
guns, having 12 horses to each gun, and 2 mountain batteries.
Sappers and miners.--30 torpedo men and 240 engineers.
Irregular cavalry.--9 Cossack regiments of 600 each.
In war time the Cossacks of the Amur and Ussuri send 6 mounted
regiments, of 560 each; 9 foot regiments, of 920 each; and 2 batteries
of horse artillery. Of these, 500 are in constant service.
On the frontier service were 2 regiments, each of 400 mounted Cossacks;
and 15 companies, of 133 each, of foot.
For the service of the Étape prisons of Eastern Siberia were employed,
from the Yakutsk regiment, 400, and the Kamchatka regiment, 200. It
is from these last two, I suppose, are supplied the Cossack posts I
heard of from Behring’s Strait round the Sea of Okhotsk, serving as
police, and distributed thus: Anadir, 13; Petropavlovsk, 59; Tigil, 17;
Ghijiga, 42; Yamsk, 7; Okhotsk, 32; Ayan, 12; Udskoi, 10.
The following is the constitution of an infantry _regiment_, which is
divided into 3 or sometimes 4 battalions, of 1,000 men each, in war
time or on the frontier. Superior officers: 1 commander, 1 adjutant,
1 treasurer, and 1 commissariat. To each battalion 1 commandant, 1
adjutant, 1 treasurer. Each battalion has 4 companies, No. 1 being
called “skirmishers,” and consisting of a fixed number of 240 men,
1 captain, 2 lieutenants, 2 sub-lieutenants and non-commissioned
officers, 1 field assistant, and 1 under officer to every 5 men.
Companies 2, 3, and 4 have not a fixed number of men, and there is an
under officer to every 10 men only.
In the book quoted above appeared the military officers’ pay; but they
get several additional allowances, everything being provided for them
except food. The pay of officers is:--
Generals from £152 to £254 per annum.
Colonels ” 58 ” 103 ” ”
Captains ” 54 ” 66 ” ”
Staff Captains ” 50 ” 68 ” ”
Lieutenants ” 40 ” 60 ” ”
Sub-Lieutenants ” 37 ” 54 ” ”
Cornets ” 34 ” 51 ” ”
[3] The _Onon_, from Nikolaefsk, was smaller than the _Zeya_, in which
I travelled from Kara, but cleaner and better managed. She was about
20 years old, had Belgian engines of 30 horse-power, and carried 5
machinists and 8 sailors. My fare and steward’s bill to Khabarofka cost
3 guineas. The _Sungacha_, about to ascend the Ussuri to Lake Khanka,
was a still smaller boat, 90 feet long, and drawing 3 feet of water.
Her engines were of 40 horse-power, and 15 years old. Towing a barge
with third-class passengers and cattle, she could make 5 or 6 miles an
hour against the stream, and 8 with it; but without the barge she could
go 10 miles against the stream, and 16 with it. I hoped accordingly to
accomplish the 500 miles to Kamen Ruiboloff in 5 days, for which I paid
as fare 35_s._
[4] Help came to me once more from the telegraph station--this time
in the person of the wife of the manager, and through her I gave the
priest some tracts, but he declined to purchase New Testaments, even
at a reduced price; at which I was not surprised when he subsequently
told me that he occasionally preached to the people for five minutes
on Sunday, but that they complained of the sermons as “too long.” What
he would not buy, however, the third-class passengers on the barge
speedily did, and I then gave some copies to the captain for the use of
the passengers of the _Sungacha_, as I had done to Captain Stjerncreutz
for the _Onon_.
[5] Perhaps it was as well that I had no malformation or physical
peculiarity about me, for Prejevalsky relates his meeting a Mongolian
who had seen but one Englishman in his life, who lived at Kiakhta, and
who had, unfortunately, lost one of his legs, whereupon the man of the
desert had come to the conclusion that all the English had wooden legs!
[6] Since the previous October he had baptized an additional 50 Goldi,
and he thought that what Gilyaks there were in his district were all
baptized. Formerly, he said, natives when willing were baptized, though
they understood nothing of what was being done, but in his own case he
required them to know certain prayers. After baptism they were expected
to attend church when there was one near, and to come to communion
once a year. I learned that some of the native Christians, as might
be expected, relapse into heathenism, especially in time of sickness,
when, having perhaps no doctor near, they send for the shaman. It did
not appear, however, that the profession of Christianity exposed them
to persecution.
[7] Their work seemed very nearly a repetition of the wholesale
baptism at Kieff by command of Vladimir, or of the baptisms by Roman
missionaries of whole villages at a time. The first missionary whom
I questioned thought it enough if, before baptism, the candidates
could say the short prayers of the Russian Church; the second appeared
content with less than this. Further south, however, I met a parish
priest who was not a missionary proper, but who in ten years had
baptized ten persons; and in his case he said he had usually kept his
candidates under instruction for a year or more.
[8] The entire length of the Ussuri, between 43½° and 48½° N. Lat., is
497 miles. The upper part of the river has a rapid current, and it is
swift below the confluence of the Sungacha to the Muren; but for its
remaining 300 miles it has a current of two miles an hour only, which
is slow compared with the three miles of the Amur, and the four miles
of the Shilka. The stream, frequently divided by islands, presents no
peculiar difficulties to navigation. Its scenery has a quiet English
park-like beauty that never wearies, though it cannot boast the
grandeur of the Amur, which combines the beauties of the Rhine and the
Danube, and is, taken all in all, the finest river I have travelled.
[9] It is said that during the floods, when the Ussuri becomes a series
of lakes connected by shallows, the traveller can with his hands, in
spawning time, lift off salmon by the dozen from the banks, and in
certain confined places may even hear the rippling of the water caused
by their fins. The turtles in the Sungacha are eaten by the natives,
but not by the Russians. They lay their eggs on the margins of the
stream, and one of our crew amused himself by shooting the animals as
they basked in the sun.
[10] I learned that the three steamers by which I had travelled on the
Amur and Ussuri belonged to the same Company, the managing director of
which receives £1,200 a year. The captain of the _Sungacha_ received
£21 per month, the second captain £10, the steersman £4, the other
sailors £3, and the machinists from £4 to £5 per month each; but during
a large part of the year, when the river is frozen, they have little or
nothing to do.
[11] It not infrequently happened, however, that they came at the end
of the year begging for further assistance, which was given, and the
result has been in many cases to make them idle. Captain De Vries told
me that he had seen grass and weeds growing six inches high in their
corn, which, owing to bad cultivation, stood only six inches higher.
Cossacks enjoy to a certain degree the privilege of self-government.
They elect, for instance, their own officers, who, after a service of
35 years, receive rank as if in the regular army. On the other hand,
they have to supply a certain number of fighting men, of whom 10 per
cent. must be engaged in active service continually each for two years,
and all are drilled for one month in every year.
[12] When settled in a locality they cannot leave it at will, though,
if they can raise themselves to the position of merchants, they acquire
greater liberty. Sometimes a whole village is moved to a new colony,
and the inhabitants find themselves in a strange district, but with
their old comrades and neighbours.
[13] A Cossack’s pay ranges from 10_s._ 6_d._ to 13_s._ a year, which
is less than that of infantry soldiers, whose monthly pay I learned
at Vladivostock was for recruits, 1_s._ 6_d._; soldiers, 4_s._; under
officers, 10_s._ 9_d._; and field assistants, 30_s._; whilst cooks,
tailors, bootmakers, and barbers each receive about 1_d._ a month from
every soldier in the company. Every soldier also subscribes 6_d._ a
year for religious purposes. Whether Cossacks, when called up, have the
same food as soldiers of the line I know not, but the latter in time
of peace have as follows:--Per day 3 lbs (Russian) of rye bread, ¾ lb.
meat, vegetables 1½ lb. in summer and 1 lb. in winter; also, per month,
37 lbs. oatmeal, 4 lbs. peas, 2 lbs. butter, ⅓ lb. sugar, ⅙ lb. each of
brick tea and salt, and ½ pint of vinegar. These, too, are the rations
of Russian sailors on shore. The clothing for soldiers I learned was
as follows:--Yearly, 2 caps, 2 pairs of cloth trousers, and 2 of
linen, 2 linen shirts for gymnastics, and 3 for ordinary use, 3 pairs
linen drawers, 2 pairs high boots, 1 pair shoes, and 2 pairs of cloth
gloves. Every other year, a thick cloth coat, long overcoat, hood, and
skull-cap. A belt is expected to last 3 and a set of buttons 5 years.
What proportion of this clothing is supplied to Cossacks I do not know.
It may very well be that they receive less, seeing that they give to
the Government less time and less labour than the ordinary soldiers.
[14] It measures, according to Réclus, 62 miles long, 46 in the widest
and 31 in the narrowest part; but the Russian captain gave me its
measurement as 67 miles long by 21 miles at the narrowest and 26 at the
widest parts.
[15] The Khanka is completely exposed to the winds on the south, which
blow during a great part of the year, rushing in through an open gap
in the Sikhota-Alin chain. Thus there is found on the surface of its
water a regular swell, which is carried from the south to the north,
and which delineates with nicety the circular outline of the shore.
This is the theory of M. Réclus, and he usually writes very carefully
and correctly; but I ought perhaps to add that in the chart given me
by the captain this regularity of outline of the north shore is not so
observable as in the map of M. Réclus.
For five months of the year ice covers the lake to the thickness of a
yard. The north-east and north-west shores are level and wooded. The
south-west shore is also wooded, but not so the shores in the south and
south-east. Swampy tracts exist at the mouths of the eight rivulets
which enter the lake; the Toor-balenkhe flowing in from the north-west,
and the largest, the Lifu, from the south. About ten villages and
post-stations are dispersed along the shores, and roads lead away to
the Manchu towns Ninguta, Hun-chun, and Furden.