THE OSTIAKS.
What is the Obi?--Inundations.--An Ostiak summer Yourt.--Poverty
of the Ostiak Fishermen.--A winter Yourt.--Attachment of the
Ostiaks to their ancient Customs.--An Ostiak Prince.--Archery.--
Appearance and Character of the Ostiaks.--The Fair of Obdorsk.
What is the Obi?--“One of the most melancholy rivers on earth,” say the
few European travellers who have ever seen it roll its turbid waters
through the wilderness, “its monotonous banks a dreary succession of
swamps and dismal pine-forests, and hardly a living creature to be
seen, but cranes, wild ducks, and geese.” If you address the same
question to one of the few Russians who have settled on its banks, he
answers, with a devout mien, “Obi is our mother;” but if you ask the
Ostiak, he bursts forth, in a laconic but energetic phrase, “Obi is the
god whom we honor above all our other gods.”
To him the Obi is a source of life. With its salmon and sturgeon he
pays his taxes and debts, and buys his few luxuries; while the fishes
of inferior quality which get entangled in his net he keeps for his
own consumption and that of his faithful dog, eating them mostly raw,
so that the perch not seldom feels his teeth as soon as it is pulled
out of the water. In spring, when the Obi and its tributaries burst
their bonds of ice, and the floods sweep over the plains, the Ostiak is
frequently driven into the woods, where he finds but little to appease
his hunger; at length, however, the waters subside, the flat banks
of the river appear above their surface, and the savage erects his
summer hut close to its stream. This hovel has generally a quadrangular
form, low walls, and a high pointed roof, made of willow-branches
covered with large pieces of bark. These, having first been softened by
boiling, are sewn together, so as to form large mats or carpets, easily
rolled up and transported. The hearth, a mere hole inclosed by a few
stones, is in the centre, and the smoke escapes through an aperture at
the top. Close to the hut there is also, generally, a small store-house
erected on high poles, as in Lapland; for the provisions must be
secured against the attacks of the glutton, the wolf, or the owner’s
dogs.
Although the Obi and its tributaries--the Irtysch, the Wach, the
Wasjugan--abundantly provide for the wants of the Ostiaks, yet those
who are exclusively fishermen vegetate in a state of the greatest
poverty, in indolence, drunkenness, and vice. The wily Russian settlers
have got them completely in their power, by advancing them goods on
credit, and thus securing the produce of their fisheries from year
to year. During the whole summer Russian speculators from Obdorsk,
Beresow, and Tobolsk sail about on the Obi, to receive from their
Ostiak debtors the salmon and sturgeon which they have caught, or
to fish on their own account, which, as having better nets and more
assistance, they do with much greater success than the poor savages.
The Russian Government has, indeed, confirmed the Ostiaks in the
possession of almost all the land and water in the territories of the
Lower Obi and Irtysch, but the Russian traders find means to monopolize
the best part of the fisheries; for ignorance and stupidity, in spite
of all laws in their favor, are nowhere a match for mercantile cunning.
At the beginning of winter the Ostiaks retire into the woods, where
they find at least some protection against the Arctic blasts, and are
busy hunting the sable or the squirrel; but as fishing affords them at
all times their chief food, they take care to establish their winter
huts on some eminence above the reach of the spring inundations, near
some small river, which, through holes made in the ice, affords their
nets and anglers a precarious supply. Their winter yourt is somewhat
more solidly constructed than their summer residence, as it is not
removed every year. It is low and small, and its walls are plastered
with clay. Light is admitted through a piece of ice inserted in the
wall or on the roof. In the better sort of huts, the space along one
or several of the walls is hung with mats made of sedges, and here the
family sits or sleeps. Sometimes a small antechamber serves to hang
up the clothes, or is used as a repository for household utensils.
Besides those who live solely upon fishes and birds of passage, there
are other Ostiaks who possess reindeer herds, and wander in summer to
the border of the Polar sea, where they also catch seals and fish. When
winter approaches, they slowly return to the woods. Finally, in the
more southerly districts, there are some Ostiaks who, having entirely
adopted the Russian mode of life, cultivate the soil, keep cattle, or
earn their livelihood as carriers.
In general, however, the Ostiak, like the Samoïede, obstinately
withstands all innovations, and remains true to the customs of his
forefathers. He has been so often deceived by the Russians that he is
loth to receive the gifts of civilization from their hands. He fears
that if his children learn to read and write, they will no longer be
satisfied to live like their parents, and that the school will deprive
him of the support of his age. He is no less obstinately attached to
the religion of his fathers, which in all essential points is identical
with that of the Samoïedes. In some of the southern districts, along
the Irtysch, at Surgut, he has indeed been baptized, and hangs up
the image of a saint in his hut, as his Russian pope or priest has
instructed him to do; but his Christianity extends no farther. Along
the tributaries of the Obi, and below Obdorsk, he is still plunged in
Schamanism.
Like the Samoïedes, the Ostiaks, whose entire number amounts to about
25,000, are subdivided into tribes, reminding one of the Highland
clans. Each tribe consists of a number of families, of a common
descent, and sometimes comprising many hundred individuals, who,
however distantly related, consider it a duty to assist each other in
distress. The fortunate fisherman divides the spoils of the day with
his less fortunate clansman, who hardly thanks him for a gift which he
considers as his due. In cases of dispute the Starschina, or elder,
acts as a judge; if, however, the parties are not satisfied with
his verdict, they appeal to the higher authority of the hereditary
chieftain or prince--a title which has been conferred by the Empress
Catherine II. on the Ostiak magnates, who, from time immemorial, have
been considered as the heads of their tribes. These princes are, of
course, subordinate to the Russian officials, and bound to appear,
with the Starschinas, at the fairs of Beresow or Obdorsk, as they are
answerable for the quantity and quality of the various sorts of furs
which the Ostiaks are obliged to pay as a tribute to Government. Their
dignity is hereditary, and, in default of male descendants, passes to
the nearest male relation. It must, however, not be supposed that these
princes are distinguished from the other Ostiaks by their riches or a
more splendid appearance; for their mode of life differs in no way from
that of their inferiors in rank, and, like them, they are obliged to
fish or to hunt for their daily subsistence.
On entering the hut of one of these dignitaries, Castrén found him
in a ragged jacket, while the princess had no other robe of state
but a shirt. The prince, having liberally helped himself from
the brandy-bottle which the traveller offered him, became very
communicative, and complained of the sufferings and cares of the past
winter. He had exerted himself to the utmost, but without success.
Far from giving way to indolence in his turf-hut, he had been out
hunting in the forest, after the first snow-fall, but rarely pitching
his bark-tent, and frequently sleeping in the open air. Yet, in spite
of all his exertions, he had often not been able to shoot a single
ptarmigan. His stores of meal and frozen fishes were soon exhausted,
and sometimes the princely family had been reduced to eat the flesh of
wolves.
The Ostiaks are excellent archers, and, like all the other hunting
tribes of Siberia, use variously constructed arrows for the different
objects of their chase. Smaller shafts, with a knob of wood at the end,
are destined for the squirrels and other small animals whose fur it is
desirable not to injure; while large arrows, with strong triangular
iron points, bring down the wolf, the bear, and sometimes the fugitive
exile. For, to prevent the escape of criminals sentenced to banishment
in Siberia, the Russian Government allows the Ostiaks to shoot any
unknown person, not belonging to their race, whom they may meet with
on their territory. Although well aware of this danger, several exiles
have attempted to escape to Archangel along the border of the Arctic
sea; but they either died of hunger, or were devoured by wild beasts,
or shot by the Ostiaks. There is but one instance known of an exile
who, after spending a whole year on the journey, at length reached the
abodes of civilized man, and he was pardoned in consideration of the
dreadful sufferings he had undergone.
The Ostiaks are generally of a small stature, and most of them are
dark-complexioned, with raven-black hair like the Samoïedes; some of
them, however, have a fairer skin and light-colored hair. They have
neither the oblique eyes nor the broad projecting cheek-bones of the
Mongols and Tungus, but bear a greater resemblance to the Finnish,
Samoïede, and Turkish cast of countenance. They are a good-natured,
indolent, honest race; and though they are extremely dirty, yet
their smoky huts are not more filthy than those of the Norwegian or
Icelandic fisherman. As among the Samoïedes, the women are in a very
degraded condition, the father always giving his daughter in marriage
to the highest bidder. The price is very different, and rises or falls
according to the circumstances of the parent; for while the rich man
asks fifty reindeer for his child, the poor fisherman is glad to part
with his daughter for a few squirrel-skins and dried sturgeon.
[Illustration: 78. GROUP OF KIRGHIS.]
Before taking leave of the Ostiaks, we will still tarry a moment at
the small town of Obdorsk, which may be considered as the capital of
their country, and entirely owes its existence to the trade carried
on between them and the Russians. Formerly the merchants from Beresow
and Tobolsk used merely to visit the spot, but the difficulties of the
journey soon compelled them to establish permanent dwellings in that
dreary region. A certain number of exiles serves to increase the scanty
population, which consists of a strange medley of various nations,
among whom Castrén found a Calmuck, a Kirghis, and a Polish cook, who
bitterly complained that he had but few opportunities of showing his
skill in a town where people lived _à la_ Ostiak. In fact, most of the
Russian inhabitants of the place have in so far adopted the Ostiak
mode of life, as to deem the cooking of their victuals superfluous.
When Castrén, on his arrival at Obdorsk, paid a visit to a Tobolsk
merchant, who had been for some time settled in the place, he found the
whole family lying on the floor, regaling on raw fish, and the most
civilized person he met with told him that he had tasted neither boiled
nor roast flesh or fish for half a year. Yet fine shawls and dresses,
and now no doubt the crinoline and the chignon, are found amidst all
this barbarism. Edifices with the least pretensions to architectural
beauty it would of course be vain to look for in Obdorsk. The houses
of the better sort of Russian settlers are two-storied, or consisting
of a ground-floor and garrets; but as they are built of wood, and are
by no means wind-tight, the half-famished Ostiaks, who have settled in
the town, are probably more comfortably housed in their low turf-huts
than the prosperous Russian inhabitants of the place. The latter make
it their chief occupation to cheat the Ostiaks in every possible way;
some of them, however, add to this profitable, if not praiseworthy
occupation, the keeping of reindeer herds, or even of cows and sheep.
The fair lasts from the beginning of winter to February, and during
this time the Ostiaks who assemble at Obdorsk pitch their bark-tents
about the town. With their arrival a new life begins to stir in the
wretched place. Groups of the wild sons and daughters of the tundra,
clothed in heavy skins, make their appearance, and stroll slowly
through the streets, admiring the high wooden houses, which to them
seem palaces. But nothing is to be seen of the animation and activity
which usually characterize a fair. Concealing some costly fur under his
wide skin mantle, the savage pays his cautious visit to the trader, and
makes his bargain amidst copious libations of brandy. He is well aware
that this underhand way of dealing is detrimental to his interests;
that his timorous disposition shrinks from public sales, and frequently
he is not even in the situation to profit by competition; for among
the thousands that flock to the fair, there are but very few who do
not owe to the traders of Obdorsk much more than they possess, or
can ever hope to repay. Woe to the poor Ostiak whose creditor should
find him dealing with some other trader!--for the seizure of all his
movable property, of his tent and household utensils, would be the
least punishment which the wretch turned adrift into the naked desert
would have to expect. The fair is not opened before Government has
received the furs which are due to it, or at least a guarantee for
the amount from the merchants of the place. Then the magazines of the
traders gradually fill with furs--with clothes of reindeer skin ready
made, with feathers, reindeer flesh, frozen sturgeon, mammoth tusks,
etc. For these goods the Ostiaks receive flour, baked bread, tobacco,
pots, kettles, knives, needles, brass buttons and rings, glass pearls,
and other trifling articles. An open trade in spirits is not allowed;
but brandy may be sold as a medicine, and thus many an Ostiak takes
advantage of the fair for undergoing a cure the reverse of that which
is recommended by hydropathic doctors.
Towards the end of February, when the Ostiaks have retired into the
woods--where they hunt or tend their reindeer herds until the opening
of the fishing-season recalls them to the Obi--the trader prepares
for his journey to Irbit, where he hopes to dispose of his furs at an
enormous profit, and Obdorsk is once more left until the following
winter to its death-like solitude.
[Illustration: 79. TAGILSK.]