WINTER.
A few hours after entering the Yenesei they saw on the right bank of the
river, which was now of great width, the domes of the town. They ran in
to the shore a mile above it.
"I shall not land, Luka," Godfrey said. "I don't want to be questioned.
I shall put off, and drop our anchor a quarter of a mile out and fish.
You must make two or three journeys if necessary."
"The things will not be heavy, Godfrey, the flour is the only thing that
will weigh much. I will get someone to help me down with that."
They had already gone over and over again the list of purchases to be
made.
"I shall drop down a little nearer the town, Luka, when I think it is
about time for you to be coming back, so you won't have so far to carry
the things. Don't be more than three hours whether you have got anything
or not, or I shall begin to feel anxious about you."
Luka nodded, and went off. Godfrey paddled the boat out a short
distance, let down the stone, and began to fish. He was under no real
uneasiness as to the young Tartar, there was nothing about him to
distinguish him from other natives, and as these would be about this
time arriving in considerable numbers at Yeneseisk to sell the skins of
the animals they had taken in the chase during the summer, and to lay
in stores for the winter, it was unlikely in the extreme that anyone
would even question him. Such indeed was the case. There were numbers of
natives in the stores of the Russian traders, and he made his purchases
without any question whatever being asked. He bought rather more
hatchets, knives, and trinkets than they had agreed upon, and two sacks
of flour, although he deemed the latter to be a luxury that they could
very well dispense with altogether. Godfrey was just thinking of taking
up his anchor and going down towards the town when he saw him returning,
accompanied by two natives carrying the sacks. He pulled up his anchor
and paddled to shore. "Have you got everything, Luka?" he asked.
"Everything--powder, shot, and balls; tea, salt; ten knives, and eight
axes; beads, four goat-skins, looking-glasses, tobacco, and flour;" and
one by one he handed the articles as he named them into the boat.
"How much flour is there, Luka?"
"Two hundred pounds. I have got more trinkets than we said. They were
very cheap. They look like gold and silver, and only cost ten kopecks
apiece. I have also brought two bottles of vodka."
"That is bad, Luka."
"The two only cost a rouble," Luka said calmly; "they may be very useful
to us; and I bought more tea and tobacco than we said."
The men who had carried the flour had received a few kopecks for their
trouble, and had gone off as soon as they had laid down their burdens.
Directly the things were handed into the boat, Luka stepped in and they
pushed off into the stream.
"I have bought plenty of arrow-heads, and two steel spear heads and
shafts."
"I wondered what those short poles were."
"They are of tough wood and the right length, ten feet long. They are
good for seal-hunting and for bears."
"Well, I think you have done capitally, Luka. You have made the money go
a long way. I suppose you have spent the hundred roubles you took with
you?"
"I have four left. I think I have done very well. We have everything we
shall want through the winter."
"Well, we are fairly off for the north now," Godfrey said, in high
spirits that everything was settled, and that for eight months at least
there would not be the slightest risk of meeting with a Russian
policeman or soldier. "Hurrah for the north, Luka, and for shooting and
adventures!"
Luka smiled. It was rarely he laughed, but he was always ready to smile
when Godfrey addressed him.
"The air feels brisk and cold to-day. We shall soon have winter upon
us."
"Yes; look there!" Luka said, pointing into the air ahead of them.
"What is it? It looks like a long black streak."
"Geese," Luka said. "It is a flight of wild geese from the north."
As it approached Godfrey saw that the Tartar was right. A solitary bird
led the way, two followed him closely, then came rank after rank
widening out till it was a broad band of fully fifty abreast. Line after
line they followed in almost military array, and extending in length
fully a quarter of a mile.
"Why, there must be thirty or forty thousand of them there," he
exclaimed in amazement.
"You will see bigger flocks than that," Luka said. "Why, all the river,
from Minusinsk down to Turukhansk, more than 2000 miles, is well-nigh
covered with birds. We shall have no lack of meat presently."
During the day many flights similar to those first seen passed overhead,
some larger, some containing only a score or two birds. The next day the
numbers were still larger, whole battalions coming along almost
incessantly. These were by no means confined to geese. There were gulls
and swans, flocks of small birds of many kinds, flights of wild
ducks--the latter, for the most part, flying much lower than the geese,
which kept far overhead.
"We had better land to-night," Luka said. "They fly close after dark,
and the flocks will settle on the banks. We will shoot them as they come
overhead. You may not see them well, but they are so thick that you can
hardly miss them."
Accordingly, when evening came on they landed, fastened the boat, took a
couple of sheep-skins each to throw over their shoulders (for even in
these two days the cold had sensibly increased), and lay down to await
the coming of the birds. All day long the air had been full of their
cries, but it had grown quieter now, though occasionally they heard a
sharp cry of the leader of a flock, followed by a responsive note from
the birds following him. From time to time Godfrey could hear the
whirring sound of a multitude of wings as the flocks passed overhead.
These became louder as the time went on, and he knew that they were
flying lower. He had loaded his gun with heavy shot, and once or twice
was disposed to fire, but Luka each time stopped him. "They are much too
high yet. They will come close down presently." The stars were shining
brightly, and Godfrey could make out the outlines of the geese as they
passed overhead. Presently there was a sharp call a few hundred yards
higher up the bank.
"This lot are coming low," Luka whispered. "They are probably going to
settle to feed. Get ready now."
Godfrey lay with his gun pointed upwards; a minute later he heard the
rustling of wings, which rose to a sound like a mighty wind, and then
some forty yards overhead a dark cloud of birds swept along across the
sky. Godfrey fired one barrel, waited a moment and then fired again.
With a loud cry of surprise and alarm the flock divided in two, and
almost instantly there were several heavy thuds on the ground close by.
"Hurrah! we have got some of them," Godfrey said, and leaping up they
ran to collect the fallen birds. There were five of them. "That is
grand," he exclaimed in delight.
"Will you shoot some more?" Luka asked.
"No, we have as many as we can eat, Luka, for the next three days at
least. It would be a waste of powder and shot to kill more, and worse
still, it would be a waste of life. It is right to kill what we require
as food, but to my mind there is nothing more wicked than taking life
merely for amusement. I consider that we should well deserve any
misfortune that might happen to us if we were to kill any one of God's
creatures wantonly. One of our best poets has written:
"'He prayeth best, who loveth best
All things both great and small;
For the dear God who loveth us,
He made and loveth all.'
"It makes me furious sometimes, Luka, when I read books of what is
called sport, and find men boasting of killing numerous creatures merely
for the pleasure of killing them. I feel that nothing would give me
greater pleasure than to flog such brutes."
Luka did not much understand this outburst of indignation, but as usual
he grunted an assent, and carrying the birds they returned to the boat.
"It is freezing to-night," the Tartar said as they stepped in. "I will
lay the geese in the bow beyond the cover. They will be frozen by the
morning."
Godfrey was glad of the wrapping of warm furs that night, and even when
he shook them off and looked out at sunrise, it was still so chilly
that, after he had leaned over the side of the boat as usual, and
sluiced his head with water, he was glad to take a paddle and work hard
for a bit to keep himself warm.
"Get the fire alight, Luka, and the kettle on," he said, "and cut up one
of those geese. How are you going to get the feathers off? I suppose you
will have to pluck them and singe them."
"It would take much too long that. We can spare the feathers this time."
So saying, with his knife he made a slight incision down the
breast-bone, and then proceeded to tear off the skin, bit by bit,
feathers and all.
"That is a quick way," Godfrey said, "though it doesn't improve the
bird's appearance; but that is a trifle. Never mind the bread, we shall
have to do without that before long, and I feel as hungry as a hunter."
In a very few minutes the fire was blazing, and portions of the goose
frizzling over it, and in twenty minutes the meal was ready. Godfrey
thought he had never eaten anything nicer; and the meat being much less
rich than that of tame geese, he did very well without bread. For the
next three days they made no pause, floating down night and day, the
stream varying in speed from five to ten miles an hour. At points where
the stream was most rapid, they paddled in towards the bank to avoid the
waves raised by the river in its course. The light boat always floated
easily over these, but she needed to be kept with her head to them; and
Godfrey was afraid that a moment's carelessness might bring her
broadside on to them, and therefore preferred to glide along at a
somewhat slower rate near the shore.
The river was now a mile and a half wide. To the left the country was
flat, but on the right they could see hills rising far above each other.
One or two small trading stations were seen on the right bank, but upon
the left they passed only a few clusters of Ostjak yourts. On the right
great pine forests came down in places to within a short distance of the
river, but these were rarely seen on the left. On the fifth day after
leaving Yeneseisk they saw a small trading station on the right bank.
This Godfrey, who had got the geography of the river by heart, judged to
be Peslovska, because it was one of the few trading stations which was
not situated at a point where a tributary stream ran into the Yenesei.
"We are far enough down now, Luka," he said. "We are not more than two
hundred miles from Turukhansk. We will land at the next Ostjak huts we
come to, and see if they are disposed to be friendly with us."
"They will be friendly," Luka said confidently. "Why not? They are
peaceable people, and they know that did they touch strangers they would
be punished. There are Russian soldiers at Turukhansk. The Ostjaks are
very poor. You have things to give them, and you want nothing of them."
Twenty miles further they saw a group of seven huts on the left bank
ahead of them, and paddling in landed close to them. Three or four
canoes, much smaller than their own lay there, and as they climbed the
lofty bank some of the Ostjaks came out from their huts.
"What do you want?" one of them asked abruptly.
"I am travelling with this gentleman, who has come from a far distant
country to hunt and to shoot game here in winter. We would like to live
beside your village and to hunt with you. You see he has a gun. He has
many things as presents, and it will be well for the village where he
settles. Here is some tobacco for all," and Luka handed a small roll of
tobacco to each of the men. "We have also some presents for the women,"
and he produced two or three looking-glasses, and some rows of large
blue and red beads. The women, who were listening in the huts, at once
came out.
"It is good," an old man, who seemed to be the leader of the Ostjaks,
said. "Why should not the stranger live here with us and hunt with us if
he chooses? He will be welcome. Let us help the strangers."
The whole of the Ostjaks at once set to work. Godfrey chose a piece of
level ground twenty or thirty yards lower down than the huts. He and
Luka, aided by some of the men, carried the various articles out of the
boat. While they were doing this, the women stuck some poles in the
ground round the circle Godfrey had traced, and lashed them together in
the middle with some strips of hide. The three large skins were placed
against this on the northern side. Then the women paused.
"You had better buy some more large skins if they have got them, Luka.
Say that you will give a knife for hides enough to finish the huts
with."
The knives were large ones with rough handles and strong blades, and
when Luka took one out from a bundle and said to the chief, "We will
give this knife for enough skins to finish the hut," he gave an order to
his wife, and she and two of the other women at once brought some elk
hides from a pile lying by the side of his tent. A few stitches here and
there with the needle made of a sharp fish-bone, with a thread of
twisted gut, fastened the corners of the hides together, and in half an
hour the tent was complete. The goat-skins were spread on the ground.
The fox and other skins were made into two piles, one on each side of
the tent, and all the goods stored inside.
"This is splendid," Godfrey said; "here we are as snug as if we were
born Ostjaks. I had no idea they would have made us so comfortable. We
will give them a cup of tea all round, Luka, as a reward for their
labours. We don't care for sugar, but the two pounds you bought at
Yeneseisk will come in useful now. They will think a lot more of it if
it is sweet. See if they have got a big kettle. That little thing of
ours will only hold a couple of quarts."
Upon inquiry the chief produced a cauldron, which he exhibited with
great pride. It had evidently been used for melting down blubber. Luka
carried it down to the water's edge, and then scrubbed it with sand
until it was tolerably clean; then he rubbed it with wisps of coarse
grass, filled it with water, and stood it on a fire that the Ostjaks had
made from drift-wood picked up from the shore. In half an hour the water
boiled. He put in two or three handfuls of tea and half a pound of
sugar, let it boil for another minute or two, and then took the pot off
the fire. Then he invited the Ostjaks to dip in their cups. In each of
the huts they had a few tin mugs, for the expense and risk of carriage
of crockery rendered the prices prohibitive, and even the tin mugs were
prized as among their most precious possessions. Luka and Godfrey also
dipped in their cups as an act of civility, but the latter made a wry
face when it approached his lips, for the odour of the blubber was very
strong, and he took an opportunity, when none of the Ostjaks were
looking, to pour the contents of the tin upon the ground beside him; but
to the Ostjaks the smell and flavour of blubber was no drawback, and men
and women sat round the fire drinking the sweet liquor with great
enjoyment, and evidently highly contented at the coming of this stranger
among them.
While they were partaking of it Godfrey heard a sound behind, and
looking round saw a boy driving in several reindeer. He was delighted at
the sight, not only because it promised hunting expeditions, but because
they might aid to carry them across the frozen steppes, to the Obi,
before the frost broke up. Talking with the Ostjaks Luka found that, as
the temperature had been below freezing-point all day, they intended to
commence fishing in earnest the next morning. The position of the huts
had been specially selected for that purpose. The river made a sharp
bend just above them, and the point threw the current across to the
opposite bank, forming almost a back-water at the spot where the huts
stood. It seemed strange to Godfrey, as he lay down that night, to be
without the gentle motion of the boat to which he had been so long
accustomed, and he lay awake for some time, not forgetting before he
went to sleep to thank God for the wonderful success that had so far
attended him, and to pray for a continuance of His protection.
As soon as it was light the boats all put off, and anchoring a short
distance out were soon engaged in fishing. Godfrey put down four lines,
each with six of the hooks Mikail had purchased for him before starting
from Kara. These were baited with strips of fish, and he and Luka were
soon busy at work hauling in the fish. They were mostly jack or tench,
and by the evening they had caught nearly a hundred. When they rowed to
shore they found that they had been far more successful than any of the
Ostjaks, this being due to the superiority of their hooks over the
fish-bone contrivances of the natives. Following the example of the
Ostjaks they laid the fish in lines in front of their tent to freeze
during the night.
After boiling their kettle, frying a couple of fish, and taking supper,
they lighted two torches and again went out, returning before midnight
with twenty-five salmon averaging fifteen pounds each. By the morning
the fish were all frozen as hard as pieces of wood, and were then laid
in a pile. For four days this work continued with equal success, and by
the end of that time they had a pile of fish six feet square and three
feet high, making, Godfrey calculated, nearly a ton of fish. They had
observed that some of the Ostjaks had each morning brought in several
wild geese and swans, and Luka learnt from them that there was a large
marsh a mile away in which large flights of geese settled every night.
Accompanied by two of the Ostjaks they started late in the evening for
the spot. When they came near the marsh they could hear a low chattering
noise as the birds fed on the aquatic grasses. Sometimes they heard
cries in the air, answered by calls from the feeding birds, and followed
speedily by a great rustling of wings as fresh flocks alighted.
Godfrey and Luka had brought with them some fox-skins and sat wrapped up
in them, but in spite of that they felt the cold as they waited hour
after hour. Godfrey dozed off several times, and at last slept for three
or four hours. He was awakened by a touch from Luka, and a low warning
to keep silence. The morning was breaking. He found that the Ostjaks had
built a sort of shelter of bushes, which had the effect of breaking the
force of the north wind and of hiding them from the water-fowl. Raising
his head cautiously he saw before him a sheet of shallow water; this was
absolutely covered with geese, a few swans being seen here and there.
Luka had warned him not to fire until the Ostjaks had shot all their
arrows, as the sound of his gun would at once scare the whole flock. The
edge of the water was about forty yards away. The Ostjaks and Luka had
both made holes through the bushes in front of them so as to be able to
shoot without exposing their heads. Moving gently Godfrey found a spot
where he could see through the boughs. The natives were just ready to
shoot. There were three swans close to the edge of the water, and the
bows twanged almost together.
Although he knew how marvellous was the shooting of the Ostjaks, he was
nevertheless surprised at seeing that each of the birds was struck in
the head, and was thus killed instantly without the slightest noise
being made.
Again and again they shot, and each arrow brought down its bird. Luka's
third arrow was less successful; it wounded a bird on the neck, and with
loud cries of pain and alarm it flew flapping across the pool. In an
instant the whole mass of birds rose on the wing, circling round and
round with loud cries. The natives, lying on their backs, shot arrow
after arrow into the air, in each case transfixing a goose. Each had
twelve arrows, and when they were exhausted Luka said, "Now, Godfrey,
you can fire."
Godfrey waited until a number of birds flew in a mass over him, and then
discharged both barrels. Five geese fell, and then the whole vast flock
flew away to the north, leaving the lagoon entirely deserted save by the
floating bodies of their dead companions.
"Arrow better than gun," Luka said as he rose. "Gun kill, but frighten
all away. Arrow keep on killing."
"That is true enough, Luka; there is no doubt the bow is the best for
this sort of work; but I shall manage better another time."
The birds were picked up. Twelve had fallen to each of the Ostjaks. Luka
had eleven, and Godfrey five. It was a heavy burden to carry back to the
huts. Godfrey and Luka's shares of the birds were laid by the pile of
fish, with the exception of one which Luka proceeded to skin and hang
up, while Godfrey saw to the fire and put on the kettle.
When they had finished breakfast Godfrey said, "We will take three or
four hours' sleep now, Luka, and then I am going down to have a look at
that marsh." They accordingly started at mid-day. Godfrey made a detour
round the lagoon, and a hundred yards beyond it, on the opposite side,
found a clump of bushes that he thought would suit his purpose. With
Luka's assistance he cleared a spot in the middle large enough for them
to lie down on, and then returned to camp. They took their next meal
early, and then, taking some furs to make themselves comfortable, again
started round the lagoon. It was just sunset when they got there, and
spreading two or three fox-skins on the ground, and throwing two over
their shoulders, they waited.
It was scarcely dusk when the first flock of geese passed close over
their heads, on their way to the lagoon. Luka discharged two arrows, and
then Godfrey fired his two barrels into them. Several fell, but the
flock scattered with wild screams; but, after circling round and round
for some time, settled in the lagoon. A quarter of an hour passed, and
then another flock came along. All night the flocks continued to arrive
at short intervals, and from each Godfrey brought down several. Luka's
arrows were soon exhausted, but Godfrey continued firing until morning
began to break. Then they got up to see the result of the night's
shooting. Luka, although seldom excited, gave a shout of pleasure. The
ground around them was thickly strewn with geese. Many were only
wounded; but Luka, with a short, heavy stick, soon put them out of their
pain, although not without several sharp chases. Then they collected and
counted the birds. There were eighty-four in all.
"Another night's shooting, Luka, and our larder will be full."
Each taking up six geese, which was as much as they could carry, they
returned to the tents, and then set out again, accompanied by all the
boys and girls of the village; and this time the whole of the geese were
carried to the hut.
"It is an awful pity," Godfrey said, as he looked at the great pile,
"that we haven't got anything we could use for holding the feathers.
Well, we will have them picked anyhow. We can make a thick layer of them
under the skins for the present. When it gets downright cold we can
nestle in among them somehow."
Accordingly the children were set to work to pluck the birds, which were
then left out to freeze in the same way as the fish. That night and the
next day they rested, and then had another night's shooting. The amount
of success was as great as that which had attended the first.
"We have plenty now to last us well on into the spring," Godfrey said as
he looked at the great pile. "What is to be done next, Luka?"
"Pour water over them and the fish and let them freeze."
"Do they keep better that way, Luka?"
"Yes; not get so dry."
The Ostjaks had been astounded at the success of their visitors, both in
fishing and shooting. Godfrey now had a conversation with their chief,
and offered to shoot a supply of geese for the natives, if they would
furnish him and his companion with a complete outfit of furs for the
winter. This the chief at once agreed to, as they had a large supply of
foxes' skins in camp, and these, with the exception of the rarer sorts,
were practically worthless for the purpose of exchange.
Godfrey made the chief another offer: to give him a hatchet, two knives,
and six fish-hooks, if he would supply them with as much seal's flesh as
they might require during the winter, and with blubber for lamps. The
Ostjaks had already killed a good many seals; but the pursuit of them
required time and patience, and Godfrey wanted to ensure a supply for
the winter, although Luka told him they would have plenty of
opportunities of getting seals then. Accordingly, for the next ten days
the shooting was continued at night, Godfrey and Luka sleeping during
the day, and leaving it to the young Ostjaks to collect and bring in the
birds.
The cold daily increased, and Godfrey began to feel much the want of
warmer clothing. However, on the eighth day the Ostjaks brought in two
suits. They were the joint work of the women of the village. As the
Ostjaks were greatly pleased at the quantity of food coming in daily,
which ensured them a sufficiency of meat throughout the winter, in
addition to their own stock of fish, the work was well done. For each a
closely-fitting shirt had been made of the squirrel skins they had
brought down with them, with the fur inside. The trousers were of red
fox-skin, with the hair outside. The upper garment was a long capote of
the same fur, reaching down to the ankles, and furnished with a hood
covering the head and face, with the exception of an opening from the
eyes down to the mouth. In addition to these, was given to each as a
present a pair of Ostjak boots. These were large and loose. They were
made of goat-skins, rendered perfectly supple by grease and rubbing, and
with the hair inside. They came up to the thighs, and had a thick sole
made of layers of elk-hide. There was also for each a pair of socks of
squirrel's skin, with the hair inside, and a pair of fingerless gloves
of double skin, the fur being both inside and out, except in the palm,
which was of single skin, with the fur inside.
"Well, if it is cold enough to require all that," Godfrey said, "it will
be cold indeed; but it will be awful walking about with it. Surely one
can never want all those furs!"
But in time Godfrey found that they were none too many, for at
Turukhansk the thermometer in winter sometimes sinks to 60 degrees below
zero. For a time, however, he found no occasion to use the capote, the
fur shirt trousers and boots being amply sufficient, while the fur cap
with the hanging tails kept his neck and ears perfectly warm. Already
the ice was thick on the still reach of the river beside which the huts
stood, although, beyond the shelter of the point, the Yenesei still
swept along. The lagoon had been frozen over for some days, in spite of
the water being kept almost perpetually in motion by the flocks of
water-fowl, and the ground was as hard as iron. The Ostjaks were now for
some days employed in patching up their huts and preparing them to
withstand the cold of winter.
An immense pile of firewood had been collected on the shore, for boughs
of trees and drift-wood, brought down by the river, often came into the
backwater, and these were always drawn ashore, however busied the men
might be at the time in fishing. All through the summer every scrap of
wood that came within reach had been landed, and the result was a great
pile that would, they calculated, with the blubber they had stored, be
sufficient to last them through the winter.
"What will they do if fuel should run short?" Godfrey asked Luka.
"They will cross the frozen river with their sledges to the forests.
They would either take their huts down and establish themselves there,
or would cut wood, fill their sledges, and bring it over. I have been
talking to them. On the other side there are many Russian villages, for
the post-road is on that side. In summer the carriages are drawn by
horses; in winter they have reindeer. These people are very poor; the
skins that they make their clothes with are all poor, the animals were
torn by the dogs or injured--that is why they could not sell them. Those
red fox-skins would have been worth two roubles each if they had been
good; but the merchants will give nothing for those that are injured.
They say it does not pay for the carriage. So they were glad to make
them up for us."
"What do they do with the reindeer?"
"They milk them in summer, and in winter they let them to the owners of
the post-stations. Of course, when they move they use them themselves."
"What we want, Luka," Godfrey said, after sitting quiet for some time,
"is more money. If we had that, we might hire sledges and reindeer as
soon as the snow gets on the ground, and travel west; but of course
there is no tempting these poor people to make such a journey without
money to pay them well."
"They will go hunting presently," Luka said. "You might get some good
furs and sell them."
"Yes; but I don't see why I should. No doubt many of the Russian
peasants in the villages have guns; and if they don't get skins, why
should I?"
"A great many skins come down every year," the Tartar said. "Black fox
is worth money, fifteen, twenty roubles; ermine is worth money; lots of
them in the woods."
"Well, we must hope for the best. If we can but get enough for them to
take us across to the Obi, we ought to be able to coast round in a canoe
to Archangel. But I don't think we could do it from this river in one
season. The ice does not break up till June, and begins to form again in
October. We can only rely upon three open months. I doubt whether we
could get in that time from the Yenesei. However, it is of no use our
bothering ourselves about that now."
Another fortnight and the frost was so severe that the ice extended
almost across the river, and a heavy fall of snow covered everything. As
soon as it was deep enough Godfrey and Luka followed the example of the
Ostjaks and raised a high wall of it encircling the tent to keep off the
bitter north wind. Then the weather changed again. The wind set in from
the south, and drenching rains fell. At the end of two or three days the
ice on the river had disappeared, but it was not long before winter set
in more bitterly than before. The ground became covered with the snow to
a depth of upwards of three feet, and the river froze right across. The
wall round the tent was rebuilt, Godfrey fashioning wooden shovels from
some planks he found among the drift-wood. The Ostjaks took to their
snow-shoes, and Godfrey fashioned for himself and Luka two pairs of
runners, such as he had seen in use near St. Petersburg.
These were about five feet long, by as many inches wide, and slightly
turned up at each end. A strap was nailed across, under which the foot
went. The ends were turned up by damping the wood and holding it over
the fire, a string being fastened tightly from end to end, so as to keep
the wood bent. When they were completed they practised with them
steadily, and found that as soon as the surface of the snow hardened
they could get along upon them at a good pace on level ground,
completely distancing the Ostjaks on their broader snow-shoes. The
Ostjaks evidently admired them greatly, but were too much wedded to
their own customs to adopt them.
Godfrey was so warmly clad that he felt the cold but little. His eyes,
however, suffered from the glare of the snow, and he at once adopted
spectacles, which were made for him by the Ostjaks. They were the shape
of goggles, and made of skin with the hair on, narrow slits being cut in
them, these slits being partly covered with the hair, and so shielding
the eyes from the glare of the snow. They were fastened on by leathern
straps, tied at the back of the head. The Ostjaks themselves seldom wore
them, but they were used by Samoyedes, a kindred tribe, dwelling
generally farther north, though many of them at times came down even as
far as Yeneseisk.
Early in November the Ostjaks prepared for a hunting expedition. The
men, since they were confined to their huts by the snow, had been busy
in manufacturing traps of various kinds and getting the sledges into
order. On a large sledge, which was to be drawn by three reindeer, was
placed the skins necessary for forming a tent. On these were piled a
store of provisions, which were chopped out from the frozen masses by
hatchets. On the smaller sledges were placed the traps and a quantity of
the coarser kinds of frozen fish as food for the dogs. It had been
settled that Godfrey and Luka should accompany them. They had
contributed liberally from their store of geese and fish, and added to
the load on the reindeer sledge their kettle, frying-pan, and a parcel
of tea and tobacco. When all was ready the three reindeer were harnessed
to the large sledge, one to each of the three small sledges, and soon
after daybreak on the 5th of November they started, the Ostjaks being
anxious to be off, for the weather again showed signs of breaking, and
it might be another month before the river was permanently frozen for
the winter. Six Ostjaks, including the chief, formed with Godfrey and
Luka the hunting party; the others remained behind to look after the
rest of the reindeer, as it was necessary to keep a space clear from
snow, to enable them to get at the grass. They would, too, continue the
fishing, keeping holes broken in the ice and catching fish by
torch-light. The men walked with the sledges, which only went at a
walking pace.
Across the river the route was easy, the surface of the snow being crisp
and hard, but it was hard work mounting the opposite bank, which was
exceedingly steep. The reindeer pulled well, and at difficult points the
men aided them. A short distance from the bank they crossed the
post-road, and in another half-hour were in the forest.
Godfrey had already been told that they would travel for several days
before they began to hunt, as the villagers with their guns scared the
wild animals from the forests in their neighbourhoods. There was no
difficulty in travelling through the forest, for the pine-trees stood
generally at some distance apart, and there was but little growth of
underwood. All day they kept steadily on. When evening came they cut
some young poles, erected their tent, and lit a fire in the centre. By
this time Godfrey had become accustomed to the smoke, which escaped from
the top of the tent by a hole.
A couple of geese were cut up and broiled over the flame, and some cakes
baked in the frying-pan, their pipes were lighted, and they lay down in
a circle with their feet to the fire. For three more days the journey
was continued. Then, as several tracks had been seen in the snow, they
halted and prepared for the hunt. The method was simple. The men
scattered in several directions, and when they struck upon a recent
track followed it up. Each man took with him a dog, a certain amount of
provisions, a box of matches from Godfrey's store, and a large skin to
wrap himself in at night. Sometimes, as Godfrey found, the track had to
be followed a long distance before they came up to the animal, which
always travelled in zigzag courses hunting about for white mice and
other prey. Sometimes it was found to have taken to a hole, and then a
trap was set to catch it when it came out. The animals were principally
ermine; but one or two sable, which are considerably larger, with much
more valuable skins, and some martens were taken. All belong to the
weasel family; the upper part of the ermine being brown in summer, but,
like most animals in or near the arctic zone, changing into a pure white
in winter, with the exception of the tail, which remains black as in
summer. The ermine is but little larger than the English ferret, while
the sable and marten are the size of large polecats. When the Ostjaks
came up with them they either knocked them on the head with a club or
shot them through the head. They were then carefully skinned, the
bodies being thrown to the dogs for food.
It had been agreed that the animals caught should be divided; but
Godfrey felt that he was doing but little, for he was unable to shoot
them, as this would have damaged their skins. However, he aided in
tracking them down, and in setting traps when he traced them to a hole;
and once or twice he came up with and killed one with a club.
Occasionally he shot a squirrel--the little animals coming out from
their nests in holes in the trees at the sound of footsteps, their
curiosity costing them dear. After remaining four days at this spot the
tent was pulled down and packed up, and they advanced another two days'
journey into the forest.