FIRST ATTEMPT AT DOG-DRIVING--UNPREMEDITATED PROFANITY--A
RUNAWAY--ARRIVAL AT GIZHIGA--HOSPITALITY OF THE ISPRAVNIK--PLANS FOR
THE WINTER
We left Mikina early, November 23d, and started out upon another great
snowy plain, where there was no vegetation whatever except a little
wiry grass and a few meagre patches of trailing-pine.
Ever since leaving Lesnoi I had been studying attentively the art,
or science, whichever it be, of dog-driving, with the fixed but
unexpressed resolution that at some future time, when everything
should be propitious, I would assume the control of my own team, and
astonish Dodd and the natives with a display of my skill as a _kaiur_
(kai-oor).
[Illustration: SETTLED KORAKS IN A TRIAL OF STRENGTH]
I had found by some experience that these unlettered Koraks estimated
a man, not so much by what he knew which they did not, as by what
he knew concerning their own special and peculiar pursuits; and I
determined to demonstrate, even to their darkened understandings, that
the knowledge of civilisation was universal in its application, and
that the white man, notwithstanding his disadvantage in colour, could
drive dogs better by intuition than they could by the aggregated
wisdom of centuries; that in fact he could, if necessary, "evolve
the principles of dog-driving out of the depths of his moral
consciousness." I must confess, however, that I was not a thorough
convert to my own ideas; and I did not disdain therefore to avail
myself of the results of native experience, as far as they coincided
with my own convictions, as to the nature of the true and beautiful
in dog-driving. I had watched every motion of my Korak driver; had
learned theoretically the manner of thrusting the spiked stick between
the-uprights of the runners into the snow, to act as a brake;
had committed to memory and practised assiduously the guttural
monosyllables which meant, in dog-language, "right" and "left," as
well as many others which meant something else, but which I had heard
addressed to dogs; and I laid the flattering unction to my soul that I
could drive as well as a Korak, if not better. To my inexperienced eye
it was as easy as losing money in California mining stocks. On this
day, therefore, as the road was good and the weather propitious, I
determined to put my ideas, original as well as acquired, to the test
of practice. I accordingly motioned my Korak driver to take a back
seat and deliver up to me the insignia of office. I observed in the
expression of his lips, as he handed me the spiked stick, a sort of
latent smile of ridicule, which indicated a very low estimate of my
dog-driving abilities; but I treated it as knowledge should always
treat the sneers of ignorance--with silent contempt; and seating
myself firmly astride the sledge back of the arch, I shouted to the
dogs, "Noo! Pashol!" My voice failed to produce the startling effect
that I had anticipated. The leader--a grim, bluff Nestor of a
dog--glanced carelessly over his shoulder and very perceptibly
slackened his pace. This sudden and marked contempt for my authority
on the part of the dogs did more than all the sneers of the Koraks to
shake my confidence in my own skill. But my resources were not yet
exhausted, and I hurled monosyllable, dissyllable, and polysyllable
at their devoted heads, shouted "Akh! Te shelma! Proclataya takaya!
Smatree! Ya tibi dam!" but all in vain; the dogs were evidently
insensible to rhetorical fireworks of this description, and manifested
their indifference by a still slower gait. As I poured out upon them
the last vial of my verbal wrath, Dodd, who understood the language
that I was so recklessly using, drove slowly up, and remarked
carelessly, "You swear pretty well for a beginner." Had the ground
opened beneath me I should have been less astonished. "Swear! I swear!
You don't mean to say that I've been swearing?"--"Certainly you have,
like a pirate." I dropped my spiked stick in dismay. Were these the
principles of dog-driving which I had evolved out of the depths of my
_moral_ consciousness? They seemed rather to have come from the depths
of my _im_moral _un_consciousness. "Why, you reckless reprobate!"
I exclaimed impressively, "didn't you teach me those very words
yourself?"--"Certainly I did," was the unabashed reply; "but you
didn't ask me what they meant; you asked how to pronounce them
correctly, and I told you. I didn't know but that you were making
researches in comparative philology--trying to prove the unity of the
human race by identity of oaths, or by a comparison of profanity to
demonstrate that the Digger Indians are legitimately descended from
the Chinese. You know that your head (which is a pretty good one
in other respects) always _was_ full of such nonsense."--"Dodd," I
observed, with a solemnity which I intended should awaken repentance
in his hardened sensibilities, "I have been betrayed unwittingly into
the commission of sin; and as a little more or less won't materially
alter my guilt, I've as good a notion as ever I had to give you the
benefit of some of your profane instruction." Dodd laughed derisively
and drove on. This little episode considerable dampened my enthusiasm,
and made me very cautious in my use of foreign language. I feared the
existence of terrific imprecations in the most common dog-phrases,
and suspected lurking profanity even in the monosyllabic "Khta" and
"Hoogh," which I had been taught to believe meant "right" and "left."
The dogs, quick to observe any lack of attention on the part of their
driver, now took encouragement from my silence and exhibited a doggish
propensity to stop and rest, which was in direct contravention of
all discipline, and which they would not have dared to do with an
experienced driver. Determined to vindicate my authority by more
forcible measures, I launched my spiked stick like a harpoon at the
leader, intending to have it fall so that I could pick it up as the
sledge passed. The dog however dodged it cleverly, and it rolled
away ten feet from the road. Just at that moment three or four wild
reindeer bounded out from behind a little rise of ground three or
four hundred yards away, and galloped across the steppe toward a deep
precipitous ravine, through which ran a branch of the Mikina River.
The dogs, true to their wolfish instincts, started with fierce,
excited howls in pursuit. I made a frantic grasp at my spiked stick
as we rushed past, but failed to reach it, and away we went over the
tundra toward the ravine, the sledge half the time on one runner, and
rebounding from the hard _sastrugi_ (sas-troo'-gee) or snow-drifts
with a force that suggested speedy dislocation of one's joints. The
Korak, with more common sense than I had given him credit for, had
rolled off the sledge several seconds before, and a backward glance
showed a miscellaneous bundle of arms and legs revolving rapidly over
the snow in my wake. I had no time, however, with ruin staring me in
the face, to commiserate his misfortune. My energies were all devoted
to checking the terrific speed with which we were approaching the
ravine. Without the spiked stick I was perfectly helpless, and in a
moment we were on the brink. I shut my eyes, clung tightly to the
arch, and took the plunge. About half-way down, the descent became
suddenly steeper, and the lead-dog swerved to one side, bringing the
sledge around like the lash of a whip, overturning it, and shooting me
like a huge living meteor through the air into a deep soft drift of
snow at the bottom. I must have fallen at least eighteen feet, for I
buried myself entirely, with the exception of my lower extremities,
which, projecting above the snow, kicked a faint signal for rescue.
Encumbered with heavy furs, I extricated myself with difficulty; and
as I at last emerged with three pints of snow down my neck, I saw
the round, leering face of my late driver grinning at me through the
bushes on the edge of the bluff. "Ooma," he hailed. "Well," replied
the snowy figure standing waist-high in the drift.--"Amerikanski nyett
dobra kaiur, eh?" [American no good driver]. "Nyett sofsem dobra" was
the melancholy reply as I waded out. The sledge, I found, had become
entangled in the bushes near me, and the dogs were all howling in
chorus, nearly wild with the restraint. I was so far satisfied with my
experiment that I did not desire to repeat it at present, and made no
objections to the Korak's assuming again his old position. I was
fully convinced, by the logic of circumstances, that the science of
dog-driving demanded more careful and earnest consideration than I
had yet given to it; and I resolved to study carefully its elementary
principles, as expounded by its Korak professors, before attempting
again to put my own ideas upon the subject into practice.
As we came out of the ravine upon the open steppe I saw the rest of
our party a mile away, moving rapidly toward the Korak village of Kuil
(Koo-eel'). We passed Kuil late in the afternoon, and camped for the
night in a forest of birch, poplar, and aspen trees, on the banks of
the Paren River.
We were now only about seventy miles from Gizhiga. On the following
night we reached a small log _yurt_ on a branch of the Gizhiga River,
which had been built there by the government to shelter travellers,
and Friday morning, November 25th, about eleven o'clock, we caught
sight of the red church-steeple which marked the location of the
Russian settlement of Gizhiga. No one who has not travelled for three
long months through a wilderness like Kamchatka, camped out in storms
among desolate mountains, slept for three weeks in the smoky tents,
and yet smokier and dirtier _yurts_ of the Koraks, and lived
altogether like a perfect savage or barbarian---no one who has not
experienced this can possibly understand with what joyful hearts we
welcomed that red church steeple, and the civilisation of which it was
the sign. For almost a month we had slept every night on the ground
or the snow; had never seen a chair, a table, a bed, or a mirror; had
never been undressed night or day; and had washed our faces only three
or four times in an equal number of weeks! We were grimy and smoky
from climbing up and down Korak chimneys; our hair was long and matted
around our ears; the skin had peeled from our noses and cheek-bones
where it had been frozen; our cloth coats and trousers were grey with
reindeer hairs from our fur _kukhlankas_; and we presented, generally,
as wild and neglected an appearance as men could present, and still
retain any lingering traces of better days. We had no time or
inclination, however, to "fix up"; our dogs dashed at a mad gallop
into the village with a great outcry, which awakened a responsive
chorus of howls from two or three hundred other canine throats; our
drivers shouted "Khta! khta! hoogh! hoogh!" and raised clouds of snow
with their spiked sticks as we rushed through the streets, and the
whole population came running to their doors to ascertain the cause
of the infernal tumult. One after another our fifteen sledges went
careering through the village, and finally drew up before a large,
comfortable house, with double glass windows, where arrangements had
been made, Kerrillof said, for our reception. Hardly had we entered a
large, neatly swept and scrubbed room, and thrown off our heavy frosty
furs, than the door again opened, and in rushed a little impetuous,
quick-motioned man, with a heavy auburn moustache, and light hair cut
short all over his head, dressed in neat broadcloth coat and trousers
and a spotless linen shirt, with seal rings on his fingers, a plain
gold chain at his vest button, and a cane. We recognised him at once
as the ispravnik, or Russian governor. Dodd and I made a sudden
attempt to escape from the room, but we were too late, and saluting
our visitor with "zdrastvuitia," [Footnote: "Good health," or "Be in
health," the Russian greeting.] we sat down awkwardly enough on our
chairs, rolled our smoky hands up in our scarlet and yellow cotton
handkerchiefs, and, with a vivid consciousness of our dirty faces and
generally disreputable appearance, tried to look self-possessed,
and to assume the dignity which befitted officers of the great
Russian-American Telegraph Expedition! It was a pitiable failure. We
could not succeed in looking like anything but Wandering Koraks in
reduced circumstances. The ispravnik, however, did not seem to notice
anything unusual in our appearance, but rattled away with an incessant
fire of quick, nervous questions, such as "When did you leave
Petropavlovsk? Are you just from America? I sent a Cossack. Did you
meet him? How did you cross the tundras; with the Koraks? _Akh!_ those
_proclatye_ Koraks! Any news from St. Petersburg? You must come over
and dine with me. How long will you stay in town? You can take a bath
now before dinner. Ay! _lòodee!_ [very loud and peremptory]. Go and
tell my Ivan to heat up the bath quick! _Akh Chort yeekh! vazmee!_"
and the restless little man finally stopped from sheer exhaustion, and
began pacing nervously across the room, while the Major related our
adventures, gave him the latest news from Russia, explained our plans,
the object of our expedition, told him of the murder of Lincoln, the
end of the Rebellion, the latest news from the French invasion of
Mexico, the gossip of the Imperial Court, and no end of other news
which had been old with us for six months, but of which the poor
exiled ispravnik had never heard a word. He had had no communication
with Russia in almost eleven months. After insisting again upon our
coming over to his house immediately to dine, he bustled out of the
room, and gave us an opportunity to wash and dress.
Two hours afterward, in all the splendour of blue coats, brass
buttons, and shoulder-straps, with shaven faces, starched shirts, and
polished leather boots, the "First Siberian Exploring Party" marched
over to the ispravnik's to dine. The Russian peasants whom we met
instinctively took off their frosty fur hoods and gazed wonderingly
at us as we passed, as if we had mysteriously dropped down from some
celestial sphere. No one would have recognised in us the dirty, smoky,
ragged vagabonds who had entered the village two hours before. The
grubs had developed into blue and golden butterflies! We found the
ispravnik waiting for us in a pleasant, spacious room furnished with,
all the luxuries of a civilised home. The walls were papered and
ornamented with costly pictures and engravings, the windows were hung
with curtains, the floor was covered with a soft, bright-coloured
carpet, a large walnut writing-desk occupied one corner of the room, a
rosewood melodeon the other, and in the centre stood the dining-table,
covered with a fresh cloth, polished china, and glittering silver. We
were fairly dazzled at the sight of so much unusual and unexpected
magnificence. After the inevitable "fifteen drops" of brandy, and the
lunch of smoked fish, rye bread, and caviar, which always precedes a
Russian dinner, we took seats at the table and spent an hour and a
half in getting through the numerous courses of cabbage soup, salmon
pie, venison cutlets, game, small meat pies, pudding, and pastry,
which were successively set before us, and in discussing the news of
all the world, from the log villages of Kamchatka to the imperial
palaces of Moscow and St. Petersburg. Our hospitable host then ordered
champagne, and over tall, slender glasses of cool beaded Cliquot we
meditated upon the vicissitudes of Siberian life. Yesterday we sat
on the ground in a Korak tent and ate reindeer meat out of a wooden
trough with our fingers, and today we dined with the Russian governor,
in a luxurious house, upon venison cutlets, plum pudding, and
champagne. With the exception of a noticeable but restrained
inclination on the part of Dodd and myself to curl up our legs and sit
on the floor, there was nothing I believe in our behaviour to betray
the barbarous freedom of the life which we had so recently lived, and
the demoralising character of the influences to which we had been
subjected. We handled our knives and forks, and leisurely sipped our
champagne with a grace which would have excited the envy of Lord
Chesterfield himself. But it was hard work. No sooner did we return to
our quarters than we threw off our uniform coats, spread our bearskins
on the floor and sat down upon them with crossed legs, to enjoy a
comfortable smoke in the good old free-and-easy style. If our faces
had only been just a little dirty we should have been perfectly happy!
The next ten days of our life at Gizhiga were passed in comparative
idleness. We walked out a little when the weather was not too cold,
received formal calls from the Russian merchants of the place, visited
the ispravnik and drank his delicious "flower tea" and smoked his
cigarettes in the evening, and indemnified ourselves for three months
of rough life by enjoying to the utmost such mild pleasures as the
little village afforded. This pleasant, aimless existence, however,
was soon terminated by an order from the Major to prepare for the
winter's campaign, and hold ourselves in readiness to start for the
Arctic Circle or the west coast of the Okhotsk Sea at a moment's
notice. He had determined to explore a route for our proposed line
from Bering Strait to the Amur River before spring should open, and
there was no time to be lost. The information which we could gather
at Gizhiga with regard to the interior of the country was scanty,
indefinite, and unsatisfactory. According to native accounts, there
were only two settlements between the Okhotsk Sea and Bering Strait,
and the nearest of these--Penzhina--was four hundred versts distant.
The intervening country consisted of great moss tundras impassable
in summer, and perfectly destitute of timber; and that portion of it
which lay north-east of the last settlement was utterly uninhabitable
on account of the absence of wood. A Russian officer by the name of
Phillippeus had attempted to explore it in the winter of 1860, but had
returned unsuccessful, in a starving and exhausted condition. In the
whole distance of eight hundred versts between Gizhiga and the mouth
of the Anadyr River there were said to be only four or five places
where timber could be found large enough for telegraph poles, and
over most of the route there was no wood except occasional patches
of trailing-pine. A journey from Gizhiga to the last settlement,
Anadyrsk, on the Arctic Circle, would occupy from twenty to thirty
days, according to weather, and beyond that point there was no
possibility of going under any circumstances. The region west of
Gizhiga, along the coast of the Okhotsk Sea, was reported to be
better, but very rugged and mountainous, and heavily timbered with
pine and larch. The village of Okhotsk, eight hundred versts distant,
could be reached on dog-sledges in about a month. This, in brief, was
all the information we could get, and it did not inspire us with very
much confidence in the ultimate success of our enterprise. I
realised for the first time the magnitude of the task which the
Russian-American Telegraph Company had undertaken. We were "in for
it," however, now, and our first duty was obviously to go through
the country, ascertain its extent and nature, and find out what
facilities, if any, it afforded for the construction of our line.
[Illustration: AN OLD MAN OF THE SETTLED KORAKS Photograph in The
American Museum of Natural History]
The Russian settlements of Okhotsk and Gizhiga divided the country
between Bering Strait and the Amur River into three nearly equal
sections, of which two were mountainous and wooded, and one
comparatively level and almost barren. The first of these sections,
between the Amur and Okhotsk, had been assigned to Mahood and Bush,
and we presumed that they were already engaged, in its exploration.
The other two sections, comprising all the region between Okhotsk
and Bering Straits, were to be divided between the Major, Dodd, and
myself. In view of the supposed desolation of the unexplored territory
immediately west of Bering Strait, it was thought best to leave
it unsurveyed until spring, and perhaps until another season. The
promised co-operation of the Anadyr River party had failed us, and
without more men, the Major did not think it expedient to undertake
the exploration of a region which presented so many and so great
obstacles to midwinter travel. The distance which remained to be
traversed, therefore, was only about fourteen hundred versts from
Okhotsk to the Russian outpost of Anadyrsk, just south of the Arctic
Circle. After some deliberation the Major concluded to send Dodd
and me with a party of natives to Anadyrsk, and to start himself on
dog-sledges for the settlement of Okhotsk, where he expected to meet
Mahood and Bush. In this way it was hoped that we should be able in
the course of five months to make a rough but tolerably accurate
survey of nearly the whole route of the line. The provisions which
we had brought from Petropavlovsk had all been used up, with the
exception of some tea, sugar, and a few cans of preserved beef; but we
obtained at Gizhiga two or three _puds_ (poods) [Footnote: One _pud_ =
36 lbs.] of black rye-bread, four or five frozen reindeer, some salt,
and an abundant supply of _yukala_ or dried fish. These, with some
tea and sugar, and a few cakes of frozen milk, made up our store of
provisions. We provided ourselves also with six or eight _puds_ of
Circassian leaf tobacco to be used instead of money; divided equally
our little store of beads, pipes, knives, and trading-goods, purchased
new suits of furs throughout, and made every preparation for three or
four months of camp life in an arctic climate. The Russian governor
ordered six of his Cossacks to transport Dodd and me on dog-sledges as
far as the Korak village of Shestakóva, and sent word to Penzhina by
the returning Anadyrsk people to have three or four men and dog-teams
at the former place by December 20th, ready to carry us on to Penzhina
and Anadyrsk. We engaged an old and experienced Cossack named Gregorie
Zinovief as guide and Chukchi interpreter, hired a young Russian
called Yagór as cook and aid-de-camp (in the literal sense), packed
our stores on our sledges and secured them with lashings of sealskin
thongs, and by December 13th were ready to take the field. That
evening the Major delivered to us our instructions. They were simply
to follow the regular sledge road to Anadyrsk via Shestakóva and
Penzhina, to ascertain what facilities it offered in the way of timber
and soil for the construction of a telegraph line, to set the natives
at work cutting poles at Penzhina and Anadyrsk, and to make side
explorations where possible in search of timbered rivers connecting
Penzhinsk Gulf with Bering Sea. Late in the spring we were to return
to Gizhiga with all the information which we could gather relative
to the country between that point and the Arctic Circle. The Major
himself would remain at Gizhiga until about December 17th, and then
leave on dog-sledges with Viushin and a small party of Cossacks for
the settlement of Okhotsk. If he made a junction with Mahood and Bush,
at that place, he would return at once, and meet us again at Gizhiga
by the first of April, 1866.