peasant, or rather the edge of the clearing where he was settled. We
dared not approach the house; but we knew that we should find means
to save the provisions we carried, as there was pretty sure to be
a turnip-patch in its vicinity, where we could help ourselves. The
Siberian peasants show great kindness to escaping exiles. They never
speak of them as exiles or prisoners, but as ‘_chasti ludi_,’ or
‘unfortunates.’ Frequently they put loaves of bread outside their
windows, in such position that they cannot be stolen by dogs, though
easily taken by men. A hungry fugitive can thus help himself without
fear of detection; and when the peasant rises in the morning, and
finds the bread gone, he crosses himself devoutly, and breathes a
prayer for the successful journey of the fugitive. ‘God will help
him,’ he says, ‘and speed him on to safety.’ Frequently they plant
patches of turnips at a little distance from their houses; and these
turnip-patches are specially consecrated to feeding the unfortunates.
And if no special field is set apart for his use, the exile knows that
he can help himself to whatever vegetables will satisfy his hunger,
and the owner will make no complaint.
“We found a small garden, where turnips and other vegetables were
growing, and we did not hesitate to take what we wanted. A man came
from the house, and I think he saw what was going on; but he pretended
the most perfect indifference, and walked back again. Only two of us
entered the garden; the rest remained in the edge of the forest, and
waited for the two to gather what was needed for all. After taking
a couple of turnips for each man, we moved away, and travelled in a
westerly direction a little distance from the valley of the river.
And now we began to debate about the best plan for our future action.
How should we travel? Should we separate? And, if so, into how many
parties? And what direction should we take? These were the questions
that troubled us.
“The Siberians have a proverb, ‘He who runs away has but one road;
he who pursues has ten.’ Several hours must elapse before our flight
would be discovered, and when it was known, it would take some time to
find where we had gone. But we were three thousand miles from Poland,
and all except the two Russian criminals spoke Russian so poorly that
we could not disguise ourselves effectually. All along this road there
were military posts and soldiers, and in the towns we should be likely
to pass there were the local police. Our number was so large that
it would excite suspicion at the very first station we passed; and
the probabilities were, that if we kept together, and attempted to
travel on the great road, we should all be retaken within three days.
Plainly, this was not our proper course.
“We held a consultation, and each man was told to advance his views.
[Sidenote: PLANS OF ACTION.]
“One plan which was offered was, that we should keep together, and
push southward into the Altai Mountains, trusting to subsist on fish
caught from the streams, and on whatever game we could kill with
our guns. The mountains are quite unsettled, and game is abundant;
so that the plan was a good one, so far as existence went, provided
we could make our ammunition hold out. But we had only ten charges
for each gun, and these would soon be exhausted. We might set traps,
and catch game in them; but this would involve delay, and render our
progress very slow. South of the Altai Mountains we should be out of
Russian territory, and among the wild Kirghese and Tartar tribes.
Among these we could travel westward till we reached the Caspian Sea.
Crossing that body of water, we should be in Circassia, and might
have reasonable hopes, if we reached it in safety, of ultimately
seeing our homes. But the way was long and dangerous; the Tartars are
treacherous, and might convert us into slaves, or sell us back into
Russian hands. After a brief debate it was decided not to adopt this
course.
“Another plan was to break into parties of two or four, and attempt to
travel by night, while lying concealed during the day. We had almost
resolved upon this, when I thought of a feasible scheme, which I
proposed. It met a ready concurrence, and was at once adopted.
“‘All roads will be watched,’ I said; ‘and if we break into parties,
and move on at once, some of us will be caught. Let us move south
into the mountains, and find a place where we can pass the winter. We
can trap game enough for our winter support, and can make a tolerable
shelter by piling up stones, and roofing them over with trees. We
will keep together till spring, and can find a secluded place where
we shall not be liable to be discovered. We have no passports, and
cannot travel without them; and my scheme includes an arrangement for
getting them. In the spring we will leave our hiding-place, and break
up into parties of three. Our beards will have grown out by that time,
so that we shall not be recognized as prisoners, and our hair will be
long enough to cut in the Russian style. Then we can go to the private
mines, and hire out as laborers during the summer, and by the end of
summer we shall be able to travel without much fear of detection. We
can pretend to having lost our passports, and the certificate of our
discharge from the mine where we were employed will be sufficient
for us until we get out of the province. After that we can get along
somehow; at all events we can stay a couple of years in the mines, and
then obtain papers that will carry us in comparative safety where we
want to go. It may take us two or three years to reach Poland, but we
shall certainly be better off than by running the risk of recapture.’
“When our plan was settled, we all knelt and prayed for success. We
observed the direction of the sun, and travelled towards the south,
keeping well away from the river valley, where we could see the only
settlements which the region contains. We made good speed that day,
and halted at night in a little glen surrounded by high rocks, and
affording an excellent place for concealment. From a small stream
near by we caught a few fish, and as each man had carefully preserved
the provisions brought from the station, and eaten nothing but the
two turnips obtained in the morning, we had no immediate fear of
starvation.
[Sidenote: CONTINUING THE JOURNEY.]
“Early in the morning we continued our journey. No incident of
importance occurred during the day, and at night we halted in a place
much like the one where we had last slept.
“On the third day we saw mountains in the distance, and knew that they
were some of the peaks of the outlying chain of the Altai range; but
they were a long distance away, and seemed to recede as we approached
them. We pressed forward as fast as possible, though some of us were
in danger of falling through exhaustion. Our feet were sore, as we
had long been unused to travel, and on the fourth night we concluded
to rest a day or two to gather strength. We dared not light a fire
through fear of discovery, and so we passed the cool hours between
sunset and sunrise closely huddled together, and shivering till our
teeth chattered with pain. We made rude beds of boughs, and slept
on them as best we could; but our sufferings were so severe that we
shuddered at thought of the winter that was coming, and more than once
several of us wished we were back again in prison. The day of our halt
was passed in sleep, two of our number being kept at watch, to warn us
of the approach of any one who might discover us.
[Sidenote: DISCOVERED BY A TRAVELLER.]
“Towards evening a man was seen approaching our retreat. The murderer
convict, whom I will call Egar, was on the watch at the time, and with
him was one of my compatriots. A low whistle from Egar warned us, and
we all sprang to our feet. I hoped the man would pass without seeing
us, and consequently we would not have occasion to harm him; but
fate willed it otherwise. He came directly towards our retreat: had
he stopped, and turned back, when within twenty feet, he might have
escaped, as we stood among the rocks in such a way that only a near
view would reveal us. As he passed the spot were Egar was crouching
behind a rock, the latter sprang forward and seized the stranger by
the throat. There was a struggle, in which both fell, and we rushed to
the assistance of our companion. Egar seized a stone, and was about
crushing the head of his antagonist, when the other watchman seized
his arm.
“‘Let me kill him; let me kill him,’ screamed Egar.
“The other held him, and in a moment all of us were at his side.
“‘No blood: no blood,’ was our united demand; ‘or, at least,’ said I,
‘let us do no murder. If the man must die for having found us, let us
give him a little time for preparation.’
“We released the stranger from the hands of Egar, and assisted him
to his feet. He was half stunned, and I saw that he was greatly
frightened, as indeed he had reason to be.
“‘I give myself up,’ he said, as soon as he could speak.
“‘Where are you from?’ I asked.
“‘From the Petrovsky mine,’ he replied.
“‘When did you leave it?’
“‘Three weeks ago.’
“‘Where have you been during that time?’
“‘Hiding in the forest, and among the rocks; but take me back, and I
will not resist.’
“‘Well, come along,’ I said, in a tone of authority; and we led him to
the place we had just left.
“Two of us held the muskets over our prisoner, while I questioned
him closely, and found that he was, like ourselves, escaping from
captivity. When fully satisfied of the truth of his story, I nodded to
my companions, and told him our true character.
[Sidenote: MUTUAL ASTONISHMENT.]
“He opened his eyes in astonishment, and then fell on his knees, to
thank Heaven that he was yet free. Of course he was added to our
party, though Egar urged that it was the safest plan to put him to
death, and thus prevent the possibility of his escaping and giving
information of our movements.
“But all the rest were opposed to such a bloody deed, as we shrunk
from killing a fellow-being, and besides, were satisfied that the man
told the truth.
“In the morning we changed our position to a more secluded spot, as
we naturally thought there was danger that others might wander in the
same direction as the new comer. We rested the entire day, and were
sufficiently recovered to push on. Just as we were about starting, our
lookout saw, in the early light, a couple of horsemen riding up the
valley. They were followed by two other horsemen at a short distance,
and we naturally concluded that they were pursuing us. So we remained
concealed, and, four or five hours later, we saw the men returning, as
if they had abandoned the search. I say, we saw them, but, in fact,
only one of our number did so, as the rest lay concealed among the
rocks. As soon as they were out of sight, we moved forward, and made
a good day’s progress, notwithstanding the loss of the morning hours.
“We were in a wild country, where settlements were few, and none of
them extended beyond the valley of the river. We dared not approach
any of these for fear of giving indications of our whereabouts; we
could trust the peasants in most instances, but of course there might
be, now and then, one who would betray us. Some of the settlers in
this region are Cossacks, and these have not usually any sympathy with
the exiles, but would capture or kill them with little compunction.
‘Shoot a rabbit, and you get his skin,’ says a Cossack proverb; ‘but
shoot a _varnak_ (vagabond), and you get skin, pelisse, and overcoat.’
[Sidenote: HOW THE WANDERERS LIVED.]
“We lived upon fish from the small streams, upon edible roots which we
found occasionally, and upon the remnants of our provisions brought
from the mine. We resorted, in a few instances, to theft, at the
suggestion of Egar and the man he had captured. A strange sort of
friendship sprang up between them, and they went together on several
enterprises for our common support. At night they would descend to
a farm, whenever one was within reach, and would generally manage
to bring away a lamb or pig, which would be immediately killed and
cooked. We made fires at night only, and always in such a way that the
light was not visible for any distance; but this mode of supply was
precarious, and whenever we obtained anything by it we were careful to
preserve our provisions as long as possible.
“Among the outlying hills of the Altai we left the settlements
altogether, and depended entirely upon our own resources. Now and then
there were villages or encampments of the Tartar inhabitants of the
region, but we avoided them altogether, though occasionally stealing
a sheep from them. These Tartars have large flocks of sheep, and are
not very watchful of them; so that a theft was comparatively easy,
with the exception of the danger of discovery by the dogs, which
are always kept around an encampment. Several times Egar returned
empty-handed from his expedition, and severely anathematized the dogs
for interfering with what he considered a legitimate pursuit.
“With many hardships, but with no adventures of importance, we reached
a sheltered place in the mountains, where we thought we would be safe
from pursuit, and established ourselves for the winter. We found a
glen containing a grove of larches and firs, and on three sides the
rocks were precipitous and overhanging. The entrance was narrow, and
could be easily defended, and in one place there was an opening in the
rocks which we could easily roof over to form a house. The glen was
full of hares and other small animals; Egar and his new friend were
skilful in constructing traps, and we at once set at work to lay in a
supply of food. Egar, in one of his expeditions in search of sheep,
had stolen an axe, which proved of great service to us in many ways.
We made a comfortable shelter, where we could live; our beds were of
boughs cut from the trees, and we soon gathered a sufficient quantity
of skins from the animals we caught to make a good supply of coverlets
and winter clothing. We desired to save our ordinary clothing for
future use. The suits we wore in prison were the common garments of
the peasantry, and the only mark to indicate our character was a
number sewed upon the right shoulder. This we had carefully removed,
so that we could readily pass for peasants.
[Sidenote: KILLED AMONG THE ROCKS.]
“The winter came on, and proved of unusual mildness. The snows were
light, and we were well sheltered, so that we did not suffer. We
trapped game, and hunted occasionally among the hills, but were very
careful of our ammunition, so that we relied almost entirely upon
our traps. On several occasions we ran down the _argal_, or mountain
sheep, and frightened them into attempting to jump a ravine too wide
for their strength. They fell upon the rocks, and were killed by the
force of the fall. But we found this mode of hunting very dangerous,
and once it resulted fatally. Serge Ponitsky, one of my countrymen,
was pursuing an argal over the rocks, and half a dozen others of our
party were shouting to the animal in order that he might keep in
the desired direction. Serge was close upon the argal, and in his
excitement did not observe that he was near the edge of a high cliff.
Suddenly the brute stopped, and wheeled around. Serge waved his cap to
make him continue in the way he ought to go, but he had made up his
mind not to keep on. Serge then seized him by the horns,—not thinking
of the great strength of the animal,—and the two struggled for a few
moments; in their struggles they went near the edge of the precipice,
and suddenly rolled over it.
“We scrambled to the foot of the cliff as soon as possible, our hearts
full of fear for the result. We found the argal dead, and Serge lying
upon him. Both his legs were broken, several of his ribs were crushed,
and as I bent over and took his hand, I heard him faintly pronounce
the words ‘home’ and ‘Poland.’ He then became unconscious, and five
minutes later he was dead.
[Sidenote: A SAD SEPARATION.]
“We buried him near our camping-place, covering the grave with heavy
stones, and erecting a cross above it. The event cast a gloom over
our party, and for several days no one cared to venture into the
mountains. After this accident we were more cautious, and nothing of a
serious nature occurred during the rest of the winter.
“In the spring we divided into twos and threes, as previously
arranged, and left our camp. We drew lots to settle the order of
departure, as it was arranged that the divisions should start at
least two days apart, so that there would be little risk of their
encountering each other, and attracting attention by their numbers.
Our parting was tearful, as we had been endeared to each other by our
mutual experience of peril, and it was certain that we should never
again be united. My lot fell to the third division, and though I live
a thousand years I shall never forget the morning when I embraced
those I was leaving behind me, and set out to encounter dangers that
I could not foresee. Silently with my two companions I left the camp,
and for more than two hours neither of us could utter a word.
“We travelled on and on to the settlements on the Yenesei, subsisting
as we had subsisted at the time of our escape. At one of the private
mines we obtained work during the summer; laborers were scarce, and
the proprietors were quite willing to engage us without asking any
questions that might annoy us.
[Sidenote: HOME AT LAST.]
“At the end of the summer we were paid off. A few days before our
payment we managed to drop some worthless papers into a fire where
several men, among them one of the superintendents, could see us. We
pretended to be in great distress, that the papers were our passports,
and that we had nothing else for our protection. The chief of the mine
consequently made certificates to the loss of our papers by accident,
and the certificates were sufficient for our protection. During the
winter and early spring, we managed to travel to the Ural Mountains,
where we again hired out for the summer. In this way we obtained money
enough to take us to Poland, where we arrived three years after the
date of our escape.
“What became of the rest of our party I have never positively known.
Two of them have reached Poland, as I am informed; and I have heard
vague rumors that some of the others were captured, and returned to
the servitude from which they had escaped. But no direct tidings from
any of them have ever reached me.”
XLI.
LEAD MINES OF IOWA.
BLUFFS AT DUBUQUE, IOWA.—THE LEAD MINES.—HOW LEAD IS FOUND
THERE.—INDIAN DISCOVERIES.—HOW THE SECRET BECAME KNOWN.—STORY
OF THE SIX INDIANS.—FOLLOWING THEIR TRACKS.—AN INDIAN
TRAITOR.—AN EXPLORER’S ADVENTURE.—THE INDIAN GUIDE AND THE GREAT
SPIRIT.—MURDER OF TWO EXPLORERS.—USES OF ABANDONED SHAFTS AND
CAVES.—AN EDITOR’S DISCOVERY.—AN UNDERGROUND BANQUET.—UPS AND
DOWNS OF A LEAD MINER.—DEATH OR A FORTUNE.—A DANGEROUS BLOW.—A
MINUTE OF GREAT PERIL.
On the Upper Mississippi, in the vicinity of Dubuque, Iowa, there are
many lead mines, and in the vicinity of these mines the bluffs contain
numerous caverns, rarely of great extent. Sometimes these caverns are
in the form of a succession of chambers extending and opening into
one another; and in these chambers rich deposits of ore are found.
Several years ago the author visited Dubuque and the region around it,
and was kindly escorted by one of the citizens, Mr. Henry W. Pettit,
in an examination of the natural and artificial curiosities of the
place. We had a wearying tramp, and returned to the hotel covered with
dust, accumulated in our inspection of shafts, tunnels, caves, and
other underground works of nature or art. I was under the impression
that if we had been reduced in a furnace, a fair amount of lead
could have been obtained by the reducer; and lest some enterprising
resident should make an effort in that direction, we washed off the
accumulation as speedily as possible.
[Sidenote: AN INDIAN SECRET.]
The lead mines of Dubuque were discovered and opened soon after the
settlement of the place by Julien Dubuque, after whom the city was
named. The Indians were aware of the existence of the rich mineral,
and the first information about it was obtained from one of the
red-skinned gentlemen who had partaken rather freely of the white
man’s fire-water. They used to bring lead to sell to the whites; they
revealed some of the localities whence they obtained it, and then
their white neighbors went to work to dig for themselves. But there
was one deposit, supposed to be the richest of all, that the Indians
would never reveal, if the story was told to me correctly. There were
half a dozen Indians who used to appear and disappear mysteriously;
whenever they wanted money or goods, they would go away a few days,
and return with all the lead they could carry. All efforts to induce
them to tell where they obtained it were of no avail. The experiment
was tried repeatedly of getting them drunk, but the more they got
drunk, the more uncommunicative they became. They were promised
that if they would show the rich deposit, they should never again
be required to draw a sober breath as long as they lived; but even
this glittering bait did not allure. Wealth, fame, and perpetual
intoxication could have been theirs, but they preferred to bask in the
sunshine of the smiles of the Great Spirit, who would be unpardoningly
angry if they told their secret to the white man.
A watch was set upon their movements; but an Indian is proverbially
a troublesome customer to the detective who tries to follow him, and
the spies on the track of these aborigines invariably came to grief.
Finally, one of the pale-faces pressed his arguments so far as to
induce an Indian to agree to turn traitor to his brethren, and reveal
the locality of the lead mine. Comfortably soaked with whiskey, the
twain started, with provisions for several days’ journey. The Indian
led the way to a secluded spot among the hills, miles away from any
human habitation. All around in this little valley there were the
remains of fires where the Indians had melted out the lead from the
ore; it was so rich that a common wood fire in the open air was quite
sufficient for its reduction.
But suddenly the Indian stopped, and looked anxiously into the sky.
After gazing there a full minute, he turned to his companion, and
refused to show him further.
“Go on, go on!” said the impatient explorer.
“No; not go on,” replied the Indian. “Great Spirit angry; I see him
looking now.”
[Sidenote: A FRIGHTENED ABORIGINAL.]
The explorer looked, but could see no spirit beyond that which he
carried in his bottle. He offered some of it to the Indian, in the
hope of overcoming his terror.
But it was “no go” with the red man. He took the proffered drink, and
then looked again into the sky. Evidently he saw, or fancied he saw,
the Great Spirit frowning upon him, for he turned on his heel, and ran
faster than he had ever been known to run before.
The explorer was left alone, and concluded to investigate on his own
account. There were the remains of the fires where the lead had been
melted, and the number of them showed that a goodly amount of smelting
had been done there. The mine must be near, and of course it ought to
be easily found. He looked for a path which might lead to it, and here
he found that the Indians’ cunning had baffled him. In no direction
was there any track, and it was evident that the Indians had made it
a rule never to follow the same course twice when entering or leaving
the valley. They had brought the ore from somewhere, but there was no
way of knowing whether that place was feet, yards, or miles away.
He spent a couple of days in a careful examination of the vicinity,
but found nothing, and returned home very little wiser than he went
out. He had a suspicion that he was watched from the time the Indian
left him until he gave up the search, but could not say positively
that such was the case. A few days after his return, the Indian made
his appearance with a fresh lot of lead, for which he refused all
compensation, though he did not decline to get drunk at the expense of
his acquaintance. He would not talk freely, but solemnly declined to
go on another expedition, and, furthermore, cautioned the white man
not to undertake it.
The latter would not be advised; and, two or three weeks later, he set
out with a friend, with the intention of spending a week or two in
exploring the region around the Indian smelting-place.