VI.--THE IVORY MINE.

The end of so perilous and novel a journey, which must necessarily,

under the most favorable circumstances, have produced more honor

than profit, was attained; and yet the success of the adventure was

doubtful. The season was still too cold for any search for fossil

ivory, and the first serious duty was the erection of a winter

residence. Fortunately there was an ample supply of logs of wood, some

half-rotten, some green, lying under the snow on the shores of the bay

into which the river poured, and which had been deposited there by

the currents and waves. A regular pile, too, was found, which had been

laid up by some of the provident natives of New Siberia, who, like

the Esquimaux, live in the snow. Under this was a large supply of

frozen fish, which was taken without ceremony, the party being near

starvation. Of course Sakalar and Ivan intended replacing the hoard,

if possible, in the short summer.

Wood was made the groundwork of the winter hut which was to be

erected, but snow and ice formed by far the larger portion of the

building materials. So hard and compact did the whole mass become when

finished, and lined with bear-skins and other furs, that a huge lamp

sufficed for warmth during the day and night, and the cooking was

done in a small shed by the side. The dogs were now set to shift for

themselves as to cover, and were soon buried in the snow. They were

placed on short allowance, now they had no work to do, for no one yet

knew what were the resources of this wild place.

As soon as the more immediate duties connected with a camp had been

completed, the whole party occupied themselves with preparing traps

for foxes, and in other hunting details. A hole was broken in the

ice in the bay, and this the Kolimsk men watched with assiduity for

seals. One or two rewarded their efforts, but no fish were taken.

Sakalar and Ivan, after a day or two of repose, started with some

carefully-selected dogs in search of game, and soon found that the

great white bear took up his quarters even in that northern latitude.

They succeeded in killing several, which the dogs dragged home.

About ten days after their arrival in the great island, Sakalar, who

was always the first to be moving, roused his comrades round him just

as a party of a dozen strange men appeared in the distance. They were

short, stout fellows, with long lances in their hands, and by their

dress very much resembled the Esquimaux. Their attitude was menacing

in the extreme, and by the advice of Sakalar, a general volley was

fired over their heads. The invaders halted, looked confusedly around,

and then ran away. Firearms retained. therefore, all their pristine

qualities with these savages.

"They will return," said Sakalar, moodily; "they did the same when

I was here before, and then came back and killed my friend at night.

Sakalar escaped."

Counsel was now held, and it was determined, after due deliberation,

that strict watch should be kept at all hours, while much was

necessarily trusted to the dogs. All day one of the party was on the

lookout, while at night the hut had its entrance well barred. Several

days, however, were thus passed without molestation, and then Sakalar

took the Kolimsk men out to hunt, and left Ivan and Kolina together.

The young man had learned the value of his half-savage friend: her

devotion to her father and the party generally was unbounded. She

murmured neither at privations nor at sufferings, and kept up the

courage of Ivan by painting in glowing terms all his brilliant future.

She seemed to have laid aside her personal feelings, and to look on

him only as one doing battle with fortune in the hope of earning the

hand of the rich widow of Yakoutsk. But Ivan was much disposed to

gloomy fits; he supposed himself forgotten, and slighted, and looked

on the time of his probation as interminable. It was in this mood that

one day he was roused from his fit by a challenge from Kolina to go

and see if the seals had come up to breathe at the hole which every

morning was freshly broken in the ice. Ivan assented, and away they

went gaily down to the bay. No seals were there, and after a short

stay they returned toward the hut, recalled by the distant howling

of the dogs. But as they came near, they could see no sign of men or

animals, though the sensible brutes still whined under the shelter

of their snow-heaps. Ivan, much surprised, raised the curtain of the

door, his gun in hand, expecting to find that some animal was inside.

The lamp was out, and the hut in total darkness. Before Ivan could

recover his upright position, four men leaped on him, and he was a

prisoner.

Kolina drew back, and cocked her gun; but the natives, satisfied

with their present prey, formed round Ivan in a compact body, tied

his hands, and bade him walk. Their looks were sufficiently wild

and menacing to make him move, especially as he recognized them

as belonging to the warlike party of the Tchouktchas--a tribe of

Siberians who wander about the Polar Seas in search of game, who cross

Behring's Straits in skin-boats, and who probably are the only persons

who by their temporary sojourn in New Siberia, have caused some to

suppose it inhabited. Kolina stood uncertain what to do, but in a few

minutes she roused four of the dogs, and followed. Ivan bawled to her

to go back, but the girl paid no attention to his request, determined,

as it seemed, to know his fate.

The savages hurried Ivan along as rapidly as they could; and soon

entered a deep and narrow ravine, which about the middle parted into

two. The narrowest path was selected, and the dwelling of the natives

soon reached. It was a cavern, the narrow entrance of which they

crawled through; Ivan followed the leader, and soon found himself in

a large and wonderful cave. It was by nature divided into several

compartments, and contained a party of twenty men, as many or more

women, and numerous children. It was warmed in two ways--by wood-fires

and grease-lamps, and by a bubbling semi-sulphurous spring, that

rushed up through a narrow hole, and then fell away into a deep well,

that carried its warm waters to mingle with the icy sea. The acrid

smoke escaped by holes in the roof. Ivan, his arms and legs bound, was

thrust into a separate compartment filled with furs, and formed by a

projection of the rock and the skin-boats which this primitive race

employed to cross the most stormy seas. He was almost stunned; he lay

for a while without thought or motion. Gradually he recovered, and

gazed around; all was night, save above, where by a narrow orifice

he saw the smoke which hung in clouds around the roof escaping.

He expected death. He knew the savage race he was among, who hated

interference with their hunting-grounds, and whose fish he and his

party had taken. What, therefore, was his surprise, when from the

summit of the roof, he heard a gentle voice whispering in soft accents

his own name. His ears must, he thought, deceive him. The hubbub close

at hand was terrible. A dispute was going on. Men, women. and children

all joined, and yet he had heard the word "Ivan." "Kolina," he

replied, in equally low but clear tones. As he spoke a knife rolled

near him. But he could not touch it. Then a dark form filled the

orifice about a dozen feet above his head, and something moved down

among projecting stones, and then Kolina stood by him. In an instant

Ivan was free, and an axe in his hand. The exit was before them. Steps

were cut in the rock, to ascend to the upper entrance, near which Ivan

had been placed without fear, because tied. But a rush was heard, and

the friends had only time to throw themselves deeper into the cave,

when four men rushed in, knife in hand, to immolate the victim. Such

had been the decision come to after the debate.

The lamps revealed the escape of the fugitive. A wild cry drew all the

men together, and then up they scampered along the rugged projections,

and the barking of the dogs as they fled showed that they were in hot

and eager chase. Ivan and Kolina lost no time. They advanced boldly,

knife and hatchet in hand, sprang amid the terrified women, darted

across their horrid cavern, and before one of them had recovered from

her fright, were in the open air. On they ran in the gloom for some

distance, when they suddenly heard muttering voices. Down they sank

behind the first large stone, concealing themselves as well as they

could in the snow. The party moved slowly on toward them.

"I can trace their tracks still," said Sakalar, in a low deep tone.

"On, while they are alive, or at least for vengeance!"

"Friends!" cried Ivan.

"Father!" said Kolina, and in an instant the whole party were united.

Five words were enough to determine Sakalar. The whole body rushed

back, entered the cavern, and found themselves masters of it without

a struggle. The women and children attempted no resistance. As soon

as they were placed in a corner, under the guard of the Kolimsk men,

a council was held. Sakalar, as the most experienced, decided what

was to be done. He knew the value of threats: one of the women was

released, and bade go tell the men what had occurred. She was to add

the offer of a treaty of peace, to which, if both parties agreed,

the women were to be given up on the one side, and the hut and its

contents on the other. But the victors announced their intention

of taking four of the best-looking boys as hostages, to be returned

whenever they were convinced of the good faith of the Tchouktchas. The

envoy soon returned, agreeing to everything. They had not gone near

the hut, fearing an ambuscade. The four boys were at once selected,

and the belligerents separated.

Sakalar made the little fellows run before, and thus the hut was

regained. An inner cabin was erected for the prisoners, and the dogs

placed over them as spies. But as the boys understood Sakalar to mean

that the dogs were to eat them if they stirred, they remained still

enough, and made no attempt to run away.

A hasty meal was now cooked, and after its conclusion Ivan related

the events of the day, warmly dilating on the devotion and courage of

Kolina, who, with the keenness of a Yakouta, had found out his prison

by the smoke, and had seen him on the ground despite the gloom.

Sakalar then explained how, on his return, he had been terribly

alarmed, and had followed the trail on the snow. After mutual

congratulations the whole party went to sleep.

The next morning early, the mothers came humbly with provisions for

their children. They received some trifling presents and were sent

away in delight. About midday the whole tribe presented themselves

unarmed, within a short distance of the hut, and offered a traffic.

They brought a great quantity of fish, which they wanted to exchange

for tobacco. Sakalar, who spoke their language freely, first gave them

a roll, letting them understand it was in payment of the fish taken

without leave. This at once dissipated all feelings of hostility, and

solid peace was insured. So satisfied was Sakalar of their sincerity,

that he at once released the captives.

From that day the two parties were one, and all thoughts of war were

completely at an end. A vast deal of bloodshed had been prevented by a

few concessions on both sides. The same result might indeed have been

come to by killing half of each little tribe, but it is doubtful if

the peace would have been as satisfactory to the survivors.

* * * * *

International Weekly Miscellany of Literature, Art and Science - Volume 1, No. 7, August 12, 1850 · 第 15 / 28 题