"One day my friend Rasloff proposed a wolf hunt. We selected the best horses from his stable; fine, quick, surefooted beasts, with a driver who was unsurpassed in all that region for his skill and dash. The sleigh was a large one, and we fitted it with a good supply of robes and straw, and put a healthy young pig in it to serve as a decoy. We each had a gun, and carried a couple of spare guns, with plenty of ammunition, so that we could kill as many wolves as presented themselves.

"Just as we were preparing to start, Christina asked to accompany us. I suggested the coldness of the night, and Rasloff hinted that the sleigh was too small for three. But Christina protested that the air, though sharp, was clear and still, and she could wrap herself warmly; a ride of a few hours would do her more good than harm. The sleigh, she insisted, was a large one, and afforded ample room. 'Besides,' she added, 'I will sit directly behind the driver, and out of your way, and I want to see a wolf-hunt very much indeed.'

"So we consented. Christina arrayed herself in a few moments, and we started on our excursion.

"The servants were instructed to hang out a light in front of the entrance to the courtyard. It was about sunset when we left the chateau and drove out upon the plain, covered here and there with patches of forest. The road we followed was well trodden by the many peasants on their way to the fair at the town, twenty-five miles away. We traveled slowly, not wishing to tire our horses, and, as we left the half dozen villages that clustered around the chateau, we had the road entirely to ourselves. The moon rose soon after sunset, and as it was at the full, it lighted up the plain very clearly, and seemed to stand out quite distinct from the deep blue sky and the bright stars that sparkled everywhere above the horizon. We chatted gayly as we rode along. The time passed so rapidly that I was half surprised, when Rasloff told me to get ready to hunt wolves.

"The pig had been lying very comfortably in the bottom, of the sleigh, and protested quite loudly as we brought him out. The rope had been made ready before we started from home, and so the most we had to do was to turn the horses around, get our guns ready, and throw the pig upon the ground. He set up a piercing shriek as the rope dragged him along, and completely drowned our voices. Paul had hard work to keep the horses from breaking into a run, but he succeeded, and we maintained a very slow trot. Christina nestled in the place she had agreed to occupy, and Rasloff and I prepared to shoot the wolves.

"We drove thus for fifteen or twenty minutes. The pig gradually became exhausted, and reduced his scream to a sort of moan that was very painful to hear. I began to think we should see no wolves, and return to the chateau without firing our guns, when suddenly a howl came faintly along the air, and in a moment, another and another.

"'There,' said Rasloff; 'there comes our game, and we shall have work enough before long.'

"A few moments later I saw a half dozen dusky forms emerging from the forest to the right and behind us. They seemed like moving spots on the snow, and had it not been for their howling I should have failed to notice them as early as I did. They grew more and more numerous, and, as they gathered behind us, formed a waving line across the road that gradually took the shape of a crescent, with the horns pointing toward our right and left. At first they were timid, and kept a hundred yards or more behind us, but as the hog renewed his scream, they took courage, and approached nearer.

"By the time they were within fifty yards there were two or three hundred of them—possibly half a thousand. I could see every moment that their numbers were increasing, and it was somewhat impatiently that I waited Rasloff's signal to fire. At last he told me to begin, and I fired at the center of the pack. The wolf I struck gave a howl of pain, and his companions, roused by the smell of blood, fell upon and tore him to pieces in a moment. Rasloff fired an instant after me, and then we kept up our firing as fast as possible. As the wolves fell, the others sprung upon them, but the pack was so large that they were not materially detained by stopping to eat up their brethren. They continued the pursuit, and what alarmed me, they came nearer, and showed very little fear of our guns.

"We had taken a large quantity of ammunition—more by half than we thought would possibly be needed—but its quantity diminished so rapidly as to suggest the probability of exhaustion. The pack steadily came nearer. We cut away the pig, but it stopped the pursuit only for a moment. Directly behind us the wolves were not ten yards away; on each side they were no further from the horses, who were snorting with fear, and requiring all the efforts of the driver to hold them. We shot down the beasts as fast as possible, and as I saw our danger I whispered my thoughts to Rasloff.

"He replied to me in Spanish, which Christina did not understand, that the situation was really dangerous, and we must prepare to get out of it. 'I would stay longer,' he suggested, 'though there is a good deal of risk in it; but we must think of the girl, and not let her suspect anything wrong, and, above all, must not risk her safety.'

"Turning to the driver, he said, in a cheery tone:

"'Paul, we have shot till we are tired out. You may let the horses go, but keep them well in control.'

"While he spoke a huge wolf sprang from the pack and dashed toward one of the horses. Another followed him, and in twenty seconds the line was broken and they were upon us. One wolf jumped at the rear of the sleigh and caught his paws upon it. Rasloff struck him with the butt of his gun, and at the same instant he delivered the blow, Paul let the horses have their way. Rasloff fell upon the edge of the vehicle and over its side. Luckily, his foot caught in one of the robes and held him for an instant—long enough to enable me to seize and draw him back. It was the work of a moment, but what a moment!

"Christina had remained silent, suspecting, but not fully comprehending our danger. As her brother fell she screamed and dropped senseless to the bottom of the sleigh. I confess that I exerted all my strength in that effort to save the brother of my affianced, and as I accomplished it, I sank powerless, though still conscious, at the side of the girl I loved. Rasloff's right arm was dislocated by the fall, and one of the pursuing wolves had struck his teeth into his scalp as he was dragging over the side, and torn it so that it bled profusely. How narrow had been his escape!

"'Faster, faster, Paul!' he shouted; 'drive for your life and for ours.'

"Paul gave the horses free rein, and they needed no urging. They dashed along the road as horses rarely ever dashed before. In a few minutes I gained strength enough to raise my head, and saw, to my unspeakable delight, that the distance between us and the pack was increasing. We were safe if no accident occurred and the horses could maintain their pace.

"One horse fell, but, as if knowing his danger, made a tremendous effort and gained his feet. By-and-by we saw the light at the chateau, and in a moment dashed into the courtyard, and were safe."



CHAPTER XL.

I found at Krasnoyarsk more beggars than in Irkutsk, in proportion to the population. Like beggars in all parts of the empire, they made the sign of the cross on receiving donations. A few were young, but the great majority were old, tattered, and decrepid, who shivered in the frosty air, and turned purple visages upon their benefactors. The peasantry in Russia are liberal to the poor, and in many localities they have abundant opportunities to practice charity.

With its abundance of beggars Krasnoyarsk can also boast a great many wealthy citizens. The day before my departure one of these Siberian Croesuses died, and another was expected to follow his example before long. A church near the market place was built at the sole expense of this deceased individual. Its cost exceeded seven hundred thousand roubles, and its interior was said to be finely decorated. Among the middle classes in Siberia the erection of churches is, or has been, the fashionable mode of public benefaction. The endowment of schools, libraries, and scientific associations has commenced, but is not yet fully popular.

The wealth of Krasnoyarsk is chiefly derived from gold digging. The city may be considered the center of mining enterprises in the government of Yeneseisk. Two or three thousand laborers in the gold mines spend the winter at Krasnoyarsk, and add to the volume of local commerce. The town of Yeneseisk, three hundred versts further north, hibernates an equal number, and many hundreds are scattered through the villages in the vicinity. The mining season begins in May and ends in September. In March and April the clerks and superintendents engage their laborers, paying a part of their wages in advance. The wages are not high, and only those in straitened circumstances, the dissolute, and profligate, who have no homes of their own, are inclined to let themselves to labor in gold mines.

Many works are extensive, and employ a thousand or more laborers each. The government grants mining privileges to individuals on certain conditions. The land granted must be worked at least one year out of every three, else the title reverts to the government, and can be allotted again. The grantee must be either a hereditary nobleman or pay the tax of a merchant of the second guild, or he should be able to command the necessary capital for the enterprise he undertakes. His title holds good until his claim is worked out or abandoned, and no one can disturb him on any pretext. He receives a patent for a strip of land seven versts long and a hundred fathoms wide, on the banks of a stream suitable for mining purposes. The claim extends on both sides of the stream, and includes its bed, so that the water may be utilized at the will of the miner.

Sometimes the grantee desires a width of more than a hundred fathoms, but in such case the length of his claim is shortened in proportion.

It requires a large capital to open a claim after the grant is obtained. The location is often far from any city or large town, where supplies are purchased. Transportation is a heavy item, as the roads are difficult to travel. Sometimes a hundred thousand roubles will be expended in supplies, transportation, buildings, and machinery, before the work begins. Then men must be hired, taken to the mines, clothed, and furnished with, proper quarters. The proprietor must have at hand a sufficient amount of provisions, medical stores, clothing, and miscellaneous goods to supply his men during the summer. Everything desired by the laborer is sold to him at a lower price than he could buy elsewhere, at least such is the theory. I was told that the mining proprietors make no profits from their workmen, but simply add the cost of transportation to the wholesale price of the merchandise. The men are allowed to anticipate their wages by purchase, and it often happens that there is very little due them at the end of the season.

Government regulations and the interest of proprietors require that the laborers should be well fed and housed and tended during sickness. Every mining establishment maintains a physician either on its own account or jointly with a neighbor. The national dish of Russia, schee, is served daily, with at least a pound of beef. Sometimes the treatment of the men lapses into negligence toward the close of the season, especially if the enterprise is unfortunate; but this is not the case in the early months. The mining proprietors understand the importance of keeping their laborers in good health, and to secure this end there is nothing better than proper food and lodging. Vodki is dealt out in quantities sufficiently small to prevent intoxication, except on certain feast-days, when all can get drunk to their liking. No drinking shops can be kept on the premises until the season's work is over and the men are preparing to depart.

Every laborer is paid for extra work, and if industrious and prudent his wages will equal thirty-five or forty roubles a month beside his board. While in debt he is required by law to work every day, not even resting on Saints' days or Sundays. The working season lasting only about four months, early and late hours are a necessity. When the year's operations are ended the most of the men find their way to the larger towns, where they generally waste their substance in riotous living till the return of spring. As in mining communities everywhere, the prudent and economical are a minority.

The mines in the government of Yeneseisk are generally on the tributaries of the Yenesei river. The valley of the Pit is rich in gold deposits, and has yielded large fortunes to lucky operators during the past twenty years. Usually the pay-dirt begins twenty or thirty feet below the surface, and I heard of a mine that yielded handsome profits though the gold-bearing earth was under seventy feet of soil. Prospecting is conducted with great care, and no mining enterprise is commenced without a thorough survey of the region to be developed. Wells or pits are dug at regular intervals, the exact depth and the character of the upper earth being noted. This often involves a large expenditure of money and labor, and many fortunes have been wasted, by parties whose lucky star was not in the ascendant, in their persistent yet unsuccessful search for paying mines.

Solid rock is sometimes struck sooner or later after commencing work, which renders the expense of digging vastly greater. In such cases, unless great certainty exists of striking a rich vein of gold beneath, the labor is suspended, the spot vacated, and another selected with perhaps like results.

Occasionally some sanguine operator will push his well down through fifty feet of solid rock at a great outlay, and with vast labor, to find himself possessed of the means for a large fortune, while another will find himself ruined by his failure to strike the expected gold.

When the pay-dirt is reached, its depth and the number of zolotniks of gold in every pood taken out are ascertained. With the results before him a practical miner can readily decide whether a place will pay for working. Of course he must take many contingent facts into consideration, such as the extent of the placer, the resources of the region, the roads or the expense of making them, provisions, lumber, transportation, horses, tools, men, and so on through a long list.

The earth over the pay-dirt is broken up and carted off; its great depth causes immense wear of horseflesh. A small mine employs three or four hundred workmen, and larger ones in proportion. I heard of one that kept more than three thousand men at work. The usual estimate for horses is one to every two men, but the proportion varies according to the character of the mine.

The pay-dirt is hauled to the bank of the river, where it is washed in machines turned by water power. Various machines have been devised for gold-washing, and the Russians are anxious to find the best invention of the kind. The one in most general use and the easiest to construct is a long cylinder of sheet iron open at both ends and perforated with many small holes. This revolves in a slightly inclined position, and receives the dirt and a stream of water at the upper end. The stones pass through the cylinder and fall from the opposite end, where they are examined to prevent the loss of 'nuggets.' Fine dirt, sand, gold, and water pass through the perforations, and are caught in suitable troughs, where the lighter substance washes away and leaves the black sand and gold.

Great care is exercised to prevent thefts, but it does not always succeed. The laborers manage to purloin small quantities, which they sell to contraband dealers in the larger towns. The government forbids private traffic in gold dust, and punishes offences with severity; but the profits are large and tempting. Every gold miner must send the product of his diggings to the government establishment at Barnaool, where it is smelted and assayed. The owner receives its money value, minus the Imperial tax of fifteen per cent.

The whole valley of the Yenesei, as far as explored, is auriferous. Were it not for the extreme rigor of its climate and the disadvantages of location, it would become immensely productive. Some mines have been worked at a profit where the earth is solidly frozen and must be thawed by artificial means. One way of accomplishing this is by piling wood to a height of three or four feet and then setting it on fire. The earth thawed by the heat is scraped off, and fresh fires are made. Sometimes the frozen earth is dug up and soaked in water. Either process is costly, and the yield of gold must be great to repay the outlay. A gentleman in Irkutsk told me he had a gold mine of this frozen character, and intimated that he found it profitable. The richest gold mines thus far worked in Siberia are in the government of Yeneseisk, but it is thought that some of the newly opened placers in the Trans-Baikal province and along the Amoor will rival them in productiveness.



In Irkutsk I met a Russian who had spent some months in California, and proposed introducing hydraulic mining to the Siberians. No quartz mines have been worked in Eastern Siberia, but several rich leads are known to exist, and I presume a thorough exploration would reveal many more. I saw excellent specimens of gold-bearing quartz from the governments of Irkutsk and Yeneseisk. One specimen in particular, if in the hands of certain New York operators, would be sufficient basis for a company with a capital of half a million. In the Altai and Ural mountains quartz mills have been in use for many years.

The Siberian gold deposits were made available long before Russia explored and conquered Northern Asia. There are many evidences in the Ural mountains of extensive mining operations hundreds of years ago. Large areas have been dug over by a people of whom the present inhabitants can give no account. It is generally supposed that the Tartars discovered and opened these gold mines shortly after the time of Genghis Khan.

The native population of the valley of the Yenesei comprises several distinct tribes, belonging in common to the great Mongolian race. In the extreme north, in the region bordering the Arctic Ocean, are the Samoyedes, who are of the same blood as the Turks. The valley of the Lena is peopled by Yakuts, whose development far exceeds that of the Samoyedes, though both are of common origin. The latter are devoted entirely to the chase and the rearing of reindeer, and show no fondness for steady labor. The Yakuts employ the horse as a beast of burden, and are industrious, ingenious, and patient. As much as the character of the country permits they till the soil, and are not inclined to nomadic life. They are hardy and reliable laborers, and live on the most amicable terms with the Russians.

Before the opening of the Amoor the carrying trade from Yakutsk to Ohotsk was in their hands. As many as forty thousand horses used to pass annually between the two points, nearly all of them owned and driven by Yakuts.

Most of these natives have been converted to Christianity, but they still adhere to some of their ancient practices. On the road, for example, they pluck hairs from their horse's tails and hang them upon trees to appease evil spirits. Some of the Russians have imbibed native superstitions, and there is a story of a priest who applied to a shaman to practice his arts and ward off evil in a journey he was about to make. Examples to the natives are not always of the best, and it would not be surprising if they raised doubts as to the superiority of Christian faith. A traveler who had a mixed party of Cossacks and natives, relates that the former were accustomed to say their prayers three or four times on evenings when they had plenty of leisure and omit them altogether when they were fatigued. At Nijne Kolymsk Captain Wrangell found the priests holding service three times on one Sunday and then absenting themselves for two weeks.

South of Krasnoyarsk are the natives belonging to the somewhat indefinite family known as Tartars. They came originally from Central Asia, and preserve many Mongol habits added to some created by present circumstances. Some of them dwell in houses, while others adhere to yourts of the same form and material as those of the Bouriats and Mongols. They are agriculturists in a small way, but only adopt tilling the soil as a last resort. Their wealth consists in sheep, cattle, and horses, and when one of them has large possessions he changes his habitation two or three times a year, on account of pasturage. A gentleman told me that he once found a Tartar, whose flocks and herds were worth more than a million roubles, living in a tent of ordinary dimensions and with very little of what a European would call comfort. These natives harmonize perfectly with the Russians, of whom they have a respectful fear.

Like their kindred in Central Asia, these Tartars are excellent horsemen, and show themselves literally at home in the saddle. Dismounted, they step clumsily, and are unable to walk any distance of importance. On horseback they have an easy and graceful carriage, and are capable of great endurance. They show intense love for their horses, caressing them constantly and treating their favorite riding animals as household pets. In all their songs and traditions the horse occupies a prominent place.

One of the most popular Tartar songs, said to be of great antiquity, relates the adventures of "Swan's Wing," a beautiful daughter of a native chief. Her brother had been overpowered by a magician and carried to the spirit laird. According to the tradition the horse he rode came to Swan's Wing and told her what had occurred. The young girl begged him to lead her by the road the magician had taken, and thus guided, she reached the country of the shades. Assisted by the horse she was able to rescue her brother from the prison where he was confined. On her return she narrated to her people the incidents of her journey, which are chanted at the present time. The song tells how one of the supernatural guardians was attracted by her beauty and became her valet de place during her visit.

Near the entrance of the grounds she saw a fat horse in a sandy field, and a lean one in a meadow. A thin and apparently powerless man was wading against a torrent, while a large and muscular one could not stop a small brook.

"The first horse," said her guide, "shows that a careful master can keep his herds in good condition with scanty pasturage, and the second shows how easily one may fail to prosper in the midst of plenty. The man stemming the torrent shows how much one can accomplish by the force of will, even though the body be weak. The strong man is overpowered by the little stream, because he lacks intelligence and resolution."

She was next led through several apartments of a large building. In the first apartment several women were spinning incessantly, while others attempted to swallow balls of hemp. Next she saw women holding heavy stones in their hands and unable to put them down. Then there were parties playing without cessation upon musical instruments, and others busy over games of chance. In one room were men and dogs enraged and biting each other. In a dormitory were many couples with quilts of large dimensions, but in each couple there was an active struggle, and its quilt was frequently pulled aside. In the last hall of the establishment there were smiling couples, at peace with all the world and 'the rest of mankind.' The song closes with the guide's explanation of what Swan's Wing had seen.

"The women who spin now are punished because in their lives they continued to spin after sunset, when they should be at rest.

"Those who swallow balls of hemp were guilty of stealing thread by making their cloth too thin.

"Those condemned to hold heavy stones were guilty of putting stones in their butter to make it heavy.

"The parties who make music and gamble did nothing else in their life time, and must continue that employment perpetually.

"The men with the dogs are suffering the penalty of having created quarrels on earth.

"The couples who freeze under ample covering are punished for their selfishness when mortals, and the couples in the next apartment are an example to teach the certainty of happiness to those who develop kindly disposition."

The region of the Lower Yenesei contains many exiles whom the government desired to remove far from the centers of population. These include political and criminal prisoners, whose offences are of a high grade, together with the members of a certain religious order, known as "The Skoptsi." The latter class is particularly obnoxious on account of its practice of mutilation. Whenever an adherent of this sect is discovered he is banished to the remotest regions, either in the north of Siberia or among the mountains of Circassia. It is the only religious body relentlessly persecuted by the Russian government, and the persecution is based upon the sparseness of population. Some of these men have been incorporated into regiments on the frontier, where they prove obedient and tractable. Those who become colonists in Siberia are praised for their industry and perseverance, and invariably win the esteem of their neighbors. They are banished to distant localities through fear of their influence upon those around them. Most of the money-changers of Moscow are reputed to believe in this peculiar faith.

Many prominent individuals were exiled to the Lower Yenesei and regions farther eastward, under former sovereigns. Count Golofkin, one of the ministers of Catherine II., was banished to Nijne Kolymsk, where he died. It is said that he used to put himself, his servants, and house in deep mourning on every anniversary of Catherine's birthday. Two officers of the court of the emperor Paul were exiled to a small town on the Yenesei, where they lived until recalled by Alexander I.

The settlers on the Angara are freed from liability to conscription, on condition that they furnish rowers and pilots to boats navigating that stream. The settlers on the Lena enjoy the same privilege under similar terms. On account of the character of the country and the drawbacks to prosperity, the taxes are much lighter than in more favored regions. In the more northern districts there is a considerable trade in furs and ivory. The latter comes in the shape of walrus tusks, and the tusks and teeth of the mammoth, which are gathered on the shores of the Arctic Ocean and the islands scattered through it. This trade is less extensive than it was forty or fifty years ago.



CHAPTER XLI.

I spent three days in Krasnoyarsk, chiefly employed upon my letters and journal. My recent companions were going no farther in my direction, and knowing this beforehand, I arranged with a gentleman at Irkutsk to travel with him from Krasnoyarsk. He arrived two days behind me, and after sending away a portion of his heavy baggage, was ready to depart. There was no snow to the first station, and so we sent our sleighs on wheels and used the post carriages over the bare ground. A peasant who lived near the station sought me out and offered to transport my sleigh for three roubles and a little drink-money. As I demurred, he proposed to repair, without extra charge, one of my fenders which had come to grief, and we made a bargain on this proposition.

My companion, Dr. Schmidt, had recently returned from a mammoth-hunting expedition within the Arctic circle. He had not secured a perfect specimen of this extinct beast, but contented himself with some parts of the stupendous whole, and a miscellaneous collection of birds, bugs, and reptiles. He despatched a portion of his treasures by post; the balance, with his assistant, formed a sufficient load for one sleigh. The doctor was to ride in my sleigh, while his assistant in another vehicle kept company with the relicts. The kegs, boxes, and bundles of Arctic zoology did not form a comfortable couch, and I never envied their conductor.

On the day fixed for our departure we sent our papers to the station in the forenoon, and were told we could be supplied at sunset or a little later. This was not to our liking, as we desired to reach the first station before nightfall. A friend suggested an appeal to the Master of the post, and together we proceeded to that functionary's office. An amiable, quiet man he was, and listened to our complaint with perfect composure. After hearing it he summoned the smotretal with his book of records, and an animated discussion followed. I expected to see somebody grow indignant, but the whole affair abounded in good nature.

The conversation was conducted with the decorum of a school dialogue on exhibition day. In half an hour by the clock I was told I could have a troika at once, in consideration of my special passport. "Wait a little," whispered my friend in French, "and we will have the other troika for Schmidt."

So I waited, kicking my heels about the room, studying the posters on the walls, eyeing a bad portrait of the emperor, and a worse one of the empress, and now and then drawing near the scene of action. The clerks looked at me in furtive glances. At every pronunciation of my name, coupled with the word "Amerikansky," there was a general stare all around. I am confident those attaches of the post office at Krasnoyarsk had a perfect knowledge of my features.

In exactly another half hour our point and the horses were gained. When we entered the office it was positively declared there were no horses to be had, and it was a little odd that two troikas and six horses, could be produced out of nothing, and each of them at the end of a long talk. I asked an explanation of the mystery, but was told it was a Russian peculiarity that no American could understand.

The horses came very promptly, one troika to Schmidt's lodgings and the other to mine. The servants packed my baggage into the little telyaga that was to carry me to the first station. Joining Schmidt with the other team, we rattled out of town on an excellent road, and left the red hills of Krasnoyarsk. The last object I saw denoting the location of the town was a church or chapel on a high cliff overlooking the Yenesei valley. The road lay over an undulating region, where there were few streams and very little timber. The snow lay in little patches here and there on the swells least exposed to the sun, but it did not cover a twentieth part of the ground. In several hollows the mud had frozen and presented a rough surface to our wheels. Our telyaga had no springs, and when we went at a rapid trot over the worst places the bones of my spinal column seemed engaged in a struggle for independence. A thousand miles of such riding would have been too much for me. A dog belonging to Madame Radstvenny's house-keeper followed me from Krasnoyarsk, but did not show himself till we were six or eight versts away. Etiquette, to say nothing of morality, does not sanction stealing the dog of your host, and so I arranged for the brute's return. In consideration of fifty copecks the yemshick agreed to take the dog on his homeward trip and deliver him in good order and condition at Krasnoyarsk.

Just before reaching the first station we passed through a village nearly four miles long, but only a single street in width. The station was at the extreme end of the village; our sleighs were waiting for us, and so were the men who brought them from Krasnoyarsk. There was no snow for the next twenty versts, and consequently the sleighs needed further transportation. Schmidt's sleigh was dragged empty over the bare ground, but mine, being heavier, was mounted upon wheels.

Other difficulties awaited us. There was but one troika to spare and only one telyaga. We required two vehicles for ourselves and baggage, but the smotretal could not accommodate us. We ordered the samovar, and debated over our tea. I urged my friend to try the effect of my special passport, which had always been successful in Paul's hands. He did so after our tea-drinking, but the document was powerless, the smotretal doubtless arguing that if the paper were of consequence we should have shown it on our arrival. We sent it to the starost, or head man of the village, but that worthy declined to honor it, and we were left to shift for ourselves. Evidently the power of the Governor General's passport was on the wane.

The document was a request, not an order, and therefore had no real force. Paul always displayed it as if it were an Imperial ukase. His manner of spreading the double page and exhibiting seal and signature carried authority and produced horses. The amiable naturalist had none of the quality called 'cheek,' and the adoption of an authoritative air did not accord with his character. He subsequently presented the passport as if he thought it all-powerful, and on such occasions it generally proved so. A man who wishes to pass a doorkeeper at a caucus, enter a ladies' car on a railway, or obtain a reserved seat in a court room, is much more certain of success if he advances with a confident air than if he hesitates and appears fearful of ejection. Humanity is the same the world over, and there is more than a shadow of truth in the saying that society values a man pretty much as he appears to value himself. I can testify that the smotretals in Siberia generally regarded our papers according to our manner of showing them.

We took tea a second time, parlayed with the yemshicks and their friends, and closed by chartering a team at double the regular rates. Just before reaching the snow we passed the sleighs, and halted for them to come up. My sleigh was very soon ready, and we rejoiced at our transfer of baggage. During the change a bottle of cognac disappeared mysteriously, and I presume we shall never see it again. The other and more cumbersome articles preserved their numbers faithfully. Our party halting in the moonlight and busy about the vehicles, presented a curiously picturesque appearance. Schmidt was in his Arctic costume, while I wore my winter dress, minus the dehar. The yemshicks were wrapped in their inevitable sheepskins, and bustled about with unwavering good humor.

In the sleigh we were at home, and had a roof to cover us; we made very good speed to the station, where we found no horses. The floor of the travelers' room was covered with dormant figures, and after bumping my head over the doorway, I waded in a pond of bodies, heads, and legs. The moon was the only light, and its beams were not sufficient to prevent my stepping on several sleepers, and extracting Russian oaths for my carelessness.

"Now for it," I whispered to the good-natured doctor, as we waked the smotretal. "Make him think our papers are important."

The official rubbed his eyes over the passport, and then hastened to arouse the starost. The latter ordered horses from the village without delay.

It had been a fete-day in honor of the Emperor, and most of the villagers were drunk, so that it required some time to assemble the requisite yemshicks and horses. A group of men and women from an evening party passed the station, and amused us with native songs. An inebriated moujik, riding on a small sled, turned from the road to enter the station yard. One side of the sled passed over a log, and as the man had not secured his balance, he rolled out of sight in a snow drift. I watched him as he emerged, much as Neptune might appear from the crest of a foamy wave.

The Siberians keep all the Imperial fete-days with scrupulous exactness, and their loyalty to the emperor is much akin to religious awe. The whole Imperial family is the object of great respect, and whatever is commanded in the name of the emperor meets the most cheerful acquiescence. One finds the portrait of Alexander in almost every house, and I never heard the name of that excellent ruler mentioned disrespectfully. If His Majesty would request that his subjects abstain from vodki drinking on Imperial fete-days, he would do much toward their prosperity. It would be an easy beginning in the cause of temperance, as no one could consider it out of place for the emperor to prescribe the manner of celebrating his own festivals. The work once begun in this way, would be likely to lead to good results. Drunkenness is the great vice of the Russian peasant, and will never be suppressed without the active endeavors of the government.



When we started from the station we ran against the gate post, and were nearly overturned in consequence. My head came against the side of the sleigh with a heavy thump that affected me more than it did the vehicle. We descended a long hill at a full run, and as our yemshick was far from sober I had a lively expectation of a general smash at the bottom.

About half way down the descent we met a sleigh and dashed our fenders against it. The strong poles rubbed across each other like fencing foils, and withstood the shock finely.

At sunset there were indications of a snow storm, in the gradual ascent of the thermometer. An hour past midnight the temperature was above freezing point, and the sleigh runners lost that peculiar ringing sound that indicates cold weather. I threw off my furs and endeavored to sleep, but accomplished little in that direction. My clothing was too thick or too thin. Without my furs I shivered, and with them I perspired. My sleigh robe was too much for comfort, and the absence of it left something to be desired. Warm weather is a great inconvenience in a Siberian winter journey. The best temperature for travel is from five to fifteen degrees below the freezing point.

The road was abominable, though it might have been worse. It was full of drifts, bare spots, and oukhabas, and our motion was as varied as a politician's career. Sometimes it was up, then down, then sidewise, and then all ways at once. We pitched and rolled like a canoe descending the Lachine rapids, or a whale-boat towed by a hundred-barrel "bow-head." In many places the snow was blown from the regular road, and the winter track wound through fields and forests wherever snow could be found. There was an abundance of rocks, stumps, and other inequalities to relieve the monotony of this mode of travel. We went much out of our way to find snow, and I think we sometimes increased, by a third or a half, the distance between stations. The road was both horizontally and vertically tortuous.

My companion took every occurrence with the utmost coolness, and taught me some things in patience I had not known before. He was long accustomed to Siberian travel, having made several scientific journeys through Northern Asia. In 1859 the Russian Geographical Society sent him to visit the Amoor valley and explore the island of Sakhalin. His journey thither was accomplished in winter, and when he returned he brought many valuable data touching the geology and the vegetable and animal life of the island. He told me he spoke the American language, having learned it among my countrymen at Nicolayevsk, but had never studied English. His journey to the Arctic Circle was made on behalf of the Russian Academy of Science, of which he was an active member.

In 1865 the captain of a Yenesei steamer learned that some natives had discovered the perfectly preserved remains of a mammoth in latitude 67 deg., about a hundred versts west of the river. He announced the fact to a savant, who sent the intelligence to St. Petersburg. Scientific men deemed the discovery so important that they immediately commissioned Dr. Schmidt to follow it up. The doctor went to Eastern Siberia in February, and in the following month proceeded down the Yenesei to Turuhansk, where he remained four or five weeks waiting for the season of warmth and light. He was accompanied by Mr. Lopatin, a Russian geologist, and a staff of three or four assistants. They carried a photographic apparatus, and one of the sensations of their voyage was to take photographs at midnight in the light of a blazing sun.

When the Yenesei was free of ice the explorers, in a barge, descended from Turuhansk to the landing place nearest the mammoth deposit. Several Cossacks accompanied the party from Turuhansk, and assisted in its intercourse with the natives. The latter were peacefully inclined, and gladly served the men who came so recently from the emperor's dwelling place. They brought their reindeer and sledges, and guided the explorers to the object of their search. The country in the Arctic Circle has very little vegetation, and the drift wood that descends the Yenesei is an important item to the few natives along the river. The trees growing north of latitude 66 deg. are very small, and as one nears the coast of the Frozen Ocean they disappear altogether. The principal features of the country are the wide tundras, or moss-covered plains, similar to those of North Eastern Siberia.

The scattered aboriginals are Tunguse and Samoyedes. Their chief employment is the chase in winter, fishing in summer, and the care of their reindeer at all seasons. Reindeer form their principal wealth, and are emphatically the circulating medium of the country. Dr. Schmidt told me he rode in a reindeer sledge from the river to within a short distance of the mammoth. It was the month of June, but the snow had not disappeared and nothing could be accomplished. A second visit several weeks later was more successful. In the interval the party embarked on the steamer which makes one or two journeys every summer to the Arctic Ocean in search of fish, furs, and ivory. A vigorous traffic is maintained during the short period that the river remains open.

On the return from the Arctic Ocean, the season was more favorable to mammoth-hunting. Unfortunately the remains were not perfect. The skeleton was a good deal broken and scattered, and some parts were altogether lacking. The chief object of the enterprise was to obtain the stomach of the mammoth so that its contents could be analyzed. It is known that the beast lived upon vegetable food, but no one has yet ascertained its exact character. Some contend that the mammoth was a native of the tropics, and his presence in the north is due to the action of an earthquake. Others think he dwelt in the Arctic regions, and never belonged in the tropics.

"If we had found his stomach," said the doctor, "and ascertained what kind of trees were in it, this question would have been decided. We could determine his residence from the character of his food."

Though making diligent search the doctor found no trace of the stomach, and the great point is still open to dispute. He brought away the under jaw of the beast, and a quantity of skin and hair. The skin was half an inch thick, and as dry and hard as a piece of sole leather. The hair was like fine long bristles, and of a reddish brown color. From the quantity obtained it is thought the animal was pretty well protected against ordinary weather. The doctor gave me a cigar tube which a Samoyede fabricated from a small bone of the mammoth. He estimated that the beast had been frozen about ten thousand years in the bank where he found him, and that his natural dwelling place was in the north. The country was evidently much warmer when the mammoth, roamed over it than now, and there is a belief that some convulsion of the earth, followed by a lowering of the temperature, sealed the remains of the huge beasts in the spots where they are now discovered.

In the year 1799 a bank of frozen earth near the mouth of the Lina, in Latitude 77 deg. broke away and revealed the body of a mammoth. Hair, skin, flesh and all, had been completely preserved by the frost. In 1806 a scientific commission visited the spot, but the lapse of seven years proved of serious consequence. There had been a famine in the surrounding region, and the natives did not scruple to feed their dogs from the store of flesh which nature had preserved. Not supposing the emperor desired the bones of the beast they carried away such as they fancied. The teeth of the bears, wolves, and foxes were worse than the tooth of Time, and finished all edible substance the natives did not take. Only the skeleton remained, and of this several bones were gone. All that could be found was taken, and is now in the Imperial collection at St. Petersburg.

The remains of the mammoth show that the beast was closely akin to the elephant, but had a longer and more compressed skull, and wore his tusks in a different manner. Tusks have been found more than nine feet long, and I am told that one discovered some years ago, exceeds ten feet in length. The skull from the Lena mammoth weighed four hundred and some odd pounds. Others have been found much larger. The mammoth was evidently an animal that commanded the respect of the elephant, and other small fry quadrupeds.

Bones of the rhinoceros and hippopotamus abound in Northern Siberia, and like those of the mammoth are found in the frozen earth. In the last century the body of a rhinoceros of an extinct species was found on the river Vilouy, a tributary of the Lena. In the museum at St. Petersburg there is a head of the Arctic rhinoceros on which the skin and tendons remain, and a foot of the same animal displays a portion of its hair. The claws of an enormous bird are also found in the north, some of them three feet long, and jointed through their whole length like the claws of an ostrich.

Captain Wrangell and other explorers say the mammoth bones are smaller on the Arctic islands than on the main land, but are wonderfully increased in quantity. For many years the natives and fur traders have brought away large cargoes, but the supply is not yet exhausted. The teeth and tusks on the islands are more fresh and white than those of the Continent. On the Lachoff Islands the principal deposit was on a low sand bank, and the natives declared that when the waves receded after an easterly wind, a fresh supply was always found. One island about latitude 80 deg. was said to be largely composed of mammoth bones. I presume this statement should be received with a little caution. During the doctor's expedition the supply of provisions was not always abundant, but there was no absolute scarcity. The party lived for some time on fish, and on the flesh of the reindeer. A story was told that the explorers were reduced to subsisting on the mammoth they discovered, and hence their failure to bring away portions of the flesh. Mammoth cutlets and soup were occasionally proposed for the entertainment of the savants on their return to Irkutsk.

One of my acquaintances had a narrow escape from death on the ice during an expedition toward Kotelnoi Island, and the chain lying to the east of it, generally known as New Siberia. It was early in the spring—somewhat later than the time of the ordinary winter journeys—that he set out from the mouth of the Lena, hoping to reach Kotelnoi Island, and return before the weather became warm. He had four dog teams, and was accompanied by a Russian servant and two Yakut natives, whom he engaged for a voyage down the Lena, and the expedition across the ice. It was known that a quantity of ivory had been gathered on the island, and was waiting for transportation to the Lena; to get this ivory was the object of the journey. I will tell the story in the words of the narrator, or as nearly as I can do so from recollection.

"We reached the island without serious trouble; the weather was clear and cold, and the traveling quite as good as we expected. Where the ice was level we got along very well, though there were now and then deep fissures caused by the frost, and which we had some difficulty in crossing. Frequently we were obliged to detach the dogs from the sleds and compel them to jump singly across the fissures. The sledges were then drawn over by hand, and once on the other side the teams were re-harnessed, and proceeded on their way. The ice was seven or eight feet thick, and some of the fissures were a yard wide at the surface, and tapered to a wedge shape at the bottom. It was not absolutely dangerous, though very inconvenient to fall into one of the crevices, and our dogs were very careful to secure a good foothold on the edges where they jumped.



"The second day out we got among a great many hummocks, or detached pieces of bergs, that caused us much trouble. They were so numerous that we were often shut out from the horizon, and were guided solely by the compass. Frequently we found them so thick that it was impossible to break a road through them, and after working for an hour or two, we would be compelled to retrace our steps, and endeavor to find a new route. Where they formed in ridges, and were not too high, we broke them down with our ice-hatchets; the work was very exhausting to us, and so was the task of drawing the sledges to the poor dogs.

"Just as we left the level ice, and came among these hummocks, the dogs came on the fresh track of a polar bear, and at once started to follow him. My team was ahead, and the dogs set out in full chase, too rapidly for me to stop them, though I made every effort to do so. The other teams followed close upon us, and very soon my sledge overturned, and the dogs became greatly mixed up. The team of Nicolai, my servant, was likewise upset close to mine, and we had much trouble to get them right again. Ivan and Paul, the two Yakuts, came up and assisted us. Their dogs following on our track had not caught the scent of the bear so readily as ours, and consequently were more easily brought to a stop.

"We set the sledges right, and when we were ready to start, the sharp eyes of Ivan discovered the bear looking at us from behind a hummock, and evidently debating in his mind whether to attack us or not. Leaving the teams in charge of Paul, I started with Nicolai and Ivan to endeavor to kill the bear. Nicolai and myself were armed with rifles, while Ivan carried a knife and an ice-hatchet.

"The bear stood very patiently as we approached; he was evidently unaccustomed to human visitors, and did not understand what we were about. The hummock where he stood was not very steep, and I thought it best to get a position a little above him for better safety, in case we had a sharp fight after firing our first shot. We took our stand on a little projection of ice a few feet higher than where he was, and about thirty paces distant; I arranged that Nicolai should fire first, as I was a better shot than he, and it would be best for me to have the reserve. Nicolai fired, aiming at the bear's heart, which was well protected, as we knew, by a thick hide and a heavy mass of flesh.

"The shot was not fatal. The bear gave a roar of pain, and sprang toward us. I waited until he placed his huge fore paws over the edge of the little ridge where we stood, and exposed his throat and chest. He was not more than ten feet away, and I buried the bullet exactly where I wished. But, notwithstanding both our shots, the animal was not killed, but lifted himself easily above the shelf, and sprang toward us.

"We retreated higher up to another shelf, and as the bear attempted to climb it, Nicolai struck him with the butt of his rifle, which the beast warded off with his paw, and sent whirling into the snow. But at the same instant Ivan took his opportunity to deal an effective blow with his ice-hatchet, which he buried in the skull of the animal, fairly penetrating his brain. The blow accomplished what our shots had not. Bruin fell back, and after a few convulsive struggles, lay dead at our feet.

"We hastened back to the teams, and brought them forward. We were not absent more than twenty minutes, but by the time we returned several Arctic foxes had made their appearance, and were snuffing the air, preparatory to a feast. We drove them off, and very soon, the dogs were enjoying a meal of fresh meat, that we threw to them immediately on removing the skin of the bear, which the Yakuts accomplished with great alacrity. The beast was old and tough, so that most of his flesh went to the dogs, part of it being eaten on the spot, while the rest was packed on the sledges for future use.

"We had no other incidents of importance until our return from the island. The weather suddenly became cloudy, and a warm wind set in from the southward. The snow softened so that the dogs could with difficulty draw the sledges, even when relieved of our weight. We walked by their side, encouraging them in every possible way, and as the softness of the snow increased, it became necessary to throw away a part of the loads. Our safety required that we should reach the land as soon as possible, since there were many indications that the ice was about to break up. After sixteen hours of continuous dragging, we stopped, quite exhausted, though still thirty miles from land, as it was absolutely impossible for men or dogs to proceed further without rest. I was so utterly worn out that I sank upon the snow, hardly able to move. The Yakuts fed the dogs, and then lay down at their side, anxiously waiting the morning to bring us relief.

"Just as the day was opening, I was awakened by a rumbling noise, and a motion below me, followed by a shout from Ivan.

"'The ice is breaking up!'

"I sprang to my feet, and so did my companions. The dogs were no less sensible of their danger than ourselves, and stirred uneasily while giving vent to plaintive whines. The wind from the south had increased; it was blowing directly off the land, and I could see that the ice was cracking here and there under its influence, and the whole field was in motion. Dark lanes appeared, and continued to increase in width, besides growing every minute more numerous. I ordered all the loads thrown from the sledges, with the exception of a day's provisions for men and dogs, and a few of our extra garments. When this was done—- and it was done very speedily—- we started for the shore.



"We jumped the dogs over the smaller crevices without serious accident, but the larger ones gave us a great deal of trouble. On reaching them, we skirted along their edges till we could find a cake of ice large enough to ferry us over. In this way we crossed more than twenty openings, some of them a hundred yards in width. Do not suppose we did so without being thrown several times in the water, and on one occasion four of the dogs were drowned. The poor brutes became tangled in their harness, and it was impossible to extricate them. All the dogs seemed to be fully aware of their danger, and to understand that their greatest safety lay in their obeying us. I never saw them more obedient, and they rarely hesitated to do what we commanded. It grieved me greatly to see the dogs drowning when we were unable to help them, but could only listen to their cries for help, until stifled by the water.

"We toiled all day, and night found us five miles from shore, with a strip of open water between us and land. Here and there were floating cakes of ice, but the main body had been blown off by the wind and promised to be a mile or two further to the north before morning.

"I determined to wait for daylight, and then endeavor to reach the shore on cakes of ice. The attempt would be full of danger, but there was nothing else to be done. Reluctantly I proposed abandoning the dogs, but my companions appealed to me to keep them with us, as they had already saved our lives, and it would be the basest ingratitude to desert them. I did not require a second appeal, and promised that whatever we did, the dogs should go with us if possible.

"Imagine the horror of that night! We divided the little food that remained, men and dogs sharing alike, and tried to rest upon the ice. We had no means of making a fire, our clothing was soaked with water, and, during the night, the wind shifted suddenly to the northward and became cold. I was lying down, and fell asleep from utter exhaustion; though the cold was severe, I did not think it dangerous, and felt quite unable to exercise to keep warm. The Yakuts, with Nicolai, huddled among the dogs, and were less wearied than I. When they shouted to me at daybreak, I slowly opened my eyes, and found that I could not move. I was frozen fast to the ice!

"Had I been alone there would have been no escape. My companions came to my relief, but it was with much difficulty that they freed me from my unpleasant situation. When we looked about, we found that our circumstances had greatly changed during the night. The wind had ceased, and the frost had formed fresh ice over the space where there was open water the day before. It was out of the question to ferry to land, and our only hope lay in driving the sledges over the new ice. I ordered the teams to be made ready, and to keep several hundred yards apart, so as to make as little weight as possible on one spot. I took one sledge, Nicolai another, and the Yakuts the third. Our fourth sledge was lost at the time of our accident the day before.



"Our plan was to drive at full speed, to lessen the danger of breaking through. Once through the ice, there would have been no hope for us. We urged the dogs forward with loud cries, and they responded to our wishes by exerting all their strength. We went forward at a gallop. I reached the shore in safety, and so did Nicolai, but not so the poor Yakuts.

"When within a mile of the land I heard a cry. I well knew what it meant, but I could give no assistance, as a moment's pause would have seen me breaking through our frail support. I did not even dare to look around, but continued shouting to the dogs to carry them to land. Once there, I wiped the perspiration from my face, and ventured to look over the track where I came.

"The weight of the two men upon one sledge had crushed the ice, and men, dogs and sledge had fallen into the water. Unable to serve them in the least, we watched till their struggles were ended, and then turned sorrowfully away. The ice closed over them, and the bed of the Arctic Ocean became their grave."



CHAPTER XLII.

In the morning after our departure from Krasnoyarsk we reached a third station, and experienced no delay in changing horses. The road greatly improved, but we made slow progress. When we were about two versts from the station one of our horses left the sleigh and bolted homeward. The yemshick went in pursuit, but did not overtake the runaway till he reached the station. During his absence we sat patiently, or rather impatiently, in our furs, and I improved the opportunity to go to sleep.

When we wore properly reconstructed we moved forward, with my equipage in the rear. The mammoth sleigh went at a disreputably low speed. I endeavored to persuade our yemshick to take the lead, but he refused, on the ground that the smotretal would not permit it. Added to this, he stopped frequently to make pretended arrangements of the harness, where he imagined it out of order. To finish my irritation at his manoeuvres, he proposed to change with a yemshick he met about half way on his route. This would bring each to his own station at the end of the drive, and save a return trip. The man had been so dilatory and obstinate that I concluded to take my opportunity, and stubbornly refused permission for the change. This so enraged him that he drove very creditably for the rest of the way.

"Both of them Jews," he said to the attendants at the station when we arrived. His theory as to our character was something like this. Of the male travelers in Siberia there are practically but two classes—officers and merchants. We could not be officers, as we wore no uniform; therefore we were merchants. The trading class in Siberia comprises Russians of pure blood and Jews, the former speaking only their own language and never using any other. As the yemshick did not understand our conversation, he at once set us down as Israelites in whom there was any quantity of guile.

We breakfasted on pilmania, bread, and tea while the horses were being changed, and I managed to increase our bill of fare with some boiled eggs. The continual jolting and the excessive cold gave me a good appetite and excellent digestion. Our food was plain and not served as at Delmonico's, but I always found it palatable. We stopped twice a day for meals, and the long interval between dinner time and breakfast generally made me ravenously hungry by morning. The village where the obstinate yemshick left us, had a bad reputation on the scale of honesty, but we suffered no loss there. At another village said to contain thieves, we did not leave the sleigh.

About noon we met a convoy of exiles moving slowly along the snowy road. The prisoners were walking in double column, but without regularity and not attempting to 'keep step.' Two soldiers with muskets and fixed bayonets marched in front and two others brought up the rear. There were thirty or more prisoners, all clad in sheepskin garments, their heads covered with Russian hoods, and their hands thrust into heavy mittens. Behind the column there were four or five sleighs containing baggage and foot-sore prisoners, half a dozen soldiers, and two women. The extreme rear was finished by two soldiers, with muskets and fixed bayonets, riding on an open sledge. The rate of progress was regulated by the soldiers at the head of the column. Most of the prisoners eyed us as we drove past, but there were several who did not look up.

At nearly every village there is an ostrog, or prison, for the accommodation of exiles. It is a building, or several buildings, enclosed with a palisade or other high fence. Inside its strong gate one cannot easily escape, and I believe the attempt is rarely made. Generally the rooms or buildings nearest the gate are the residences of the officers and guards, the prisoners being lodged as far as possible from the point of egress. The distance from one station to the next varies according to the location of the villages, but is usually about twenty versts. Generally the ostrog is outside the village, but not far away. The people throughout Siberia display unvarying kindness to exiles on their march. When a convoy reaches a village the inhabitants bring whatever they can spare, whether of food or money, and either deliver it to the prisoners in the street or carry it to the ostrog. Many peasants plant little patches of turnips and beets, where runaway prisoners may help themselves at night without danger of interference if discovered by the owner.

In every party of exiles, each man takes his turn for a day in asking and receiving charity, the proceeds being for the common good. In front of my quarters in Irkutsk a party of prisoners were engaged several days in setting posts. One of the number accosted every passer by, and when he received any thing the prisoners near him echoed his 'thank you.' Many couples were engaged, under guard, in carrying water from the river to the prison. One man of each couple solicited 'tobacco money' for both. The soldiers make no objection to charity toward prisoners. I frequently observed that when any person approached with the evident intention of giving something to the water carriers, the guards halted to facilitate the donation.

Very often on my sleigh ride I met convoys of exiles. On one occasion as we were passing an ostrog the gate suddenly opened, and a dozen sleighs laden with prisoners emerged and drove rapidly to the eastward. Five-sixths of the exiles I met on the road were riding, and did not appear to suffer from cold. They were well wrapped in sheepskin clothing, and seated, generally three together, in the ordinary sleighs of the country. Formerly most exiles walked the entire distance from Moscow to their destination, but of late years it has been found better economy to allow them to ride. Only certain classes of criminals are now required to go on foot. All other offenders, including 'politiques,' are transported in vehicles at government expense. Any woman can accompany or follow her husband into exile.

Those on foot go from one station to the next for a day's march. They travel two days and rest one, and unless for special reasons, are not required to break the Sabbath. Medical officers are stationed in the principal towns, to look after the sanitary condition of the emigrants. The object being to people the country, the government takes every reasonable care that the exiles do not suffer in health while on the road. Of course those that ride do not require as much rest as the pedestrians. They usually stop at night at the ostrogs, and travel about twelve or fourteen hours a day. Distinguished offenders, such as the higher class of revolutionists, officers convicted of plotting against the state or robbing the Treasury, are generally rushed forward night and day. To keep him secure from escape, an exile of this class is sometimes chained to a soldier who rides at his side.

One night, between Irkutsk and Krasnoyarsk, I was awakened by an unusual motion of the sleigh. We were at the roadside passing a column of men who marched slowly in our direction. As I lifted our curtain and saw the undulating line of dark forms moving silently in the dim starlight, and brought into relief against the snow hills, the scene appeared something more than terrestrial. I thought of the array of spectres that beleaguered the walls of Prague, if we may trust the Bohemian legend, and of the shadowy battalions described by the old poets of Norseland, in the days when fairies dwelt in fountains, and each valley was the abode of a good or evil spirit. But my fancies were cut short by my companion briefly informing me that we were passing a convoy of prisoners recently ordered from Irkutsk to Yeneseisk. It was the largest convoy I saw during my journey, and included, as I thought, not less than two hundred men.

In the afternoon of the first day from Krasnoyarsk we reached Achinsk, a town of two or three thousand inhabitants, on the bank of the Chulim river. We were told the road was so bad as to require four horses to each sleigh to the next station. We consented to pay for a horse additional to the three demanded by our padaroshnia, and were carried along at very good speed. Part of the way was upon the ice, which had formed during a wind, that left disagreeable ridges. We picked out the best places, and had not our horses slipped occasionally, the icy road would not have been unpleasant. On the bare ground which we traversed in occasional patches after leaving the river, the horses behaved admirably and made little discrimination between sand and snow. Whenever they lagged the yemshick lashed them into activity.

I observed in Siberia that whip cracking is not fashionable. The long, slender, snapping whips of Western Europe and America are unknown. The Siberian uses a short stock with a lash of hemp, leather, or other flexible substance, but never dreams of a snapper at its end. Its only use is for whipping purposes, and a practiced yemshick can do much with it in a short time.

The Russian drivers talk a great deal to their horses, and the speech they use depends much upon the character and performance of the animals. If the horse travels well he may be called the dove or brother of his driver, and assured that there is abundance of excellent hay awaiting him at home. Sometimes a neat hint is given that he is drawing a nice gentleman who will be liberal and enable the horse to have an extra feed. Sometimes the man rattles off his words as if the brute understood everything said to him. An obstinate or lazy horse is called a variety of names the reverse of endearing. I have heard him addressed as 'sabaka,' (dog); and on frequent occasions his maternity was ascribed to the canine race in epithets quite disrespectful. Horses came in for an amount of profanity about like that showered upon army mules in America. It used to look a little out of place to see a yemshick who had shouted chort! and other unrefined expressions to his team, devoutly crossing himself before a holy picture as soon as his beasts were unharnessed.

A few versts from Achinsk we crossed the boundary between Eastern and Western Siberia. The Chulim is navigable up to Achinsk, and during the past two years steamers have been running between this town and Tomsk. The basin of the Ob contains nearly as many navigable streams as that of the Mississippi, and were it not for the severity of the climate, the long winter, and the northerly course of the great river, this valley might easily develop much wealth. But nature is unfavorable, and man is powerless to change her laws.

On changing at the station we again took four horses to each sleigh, and were glad we did so. The ground was more bare as we proceeded, and obliged us to leave the high road altogether and seek a track wherever it could be found. While we were dashing through a mass of rocks and stumps one of our horses fell dead, and brought us to a sudden halt. In his fall he became entangled with the others, and it required some minutes to set matters right. The yemshick felt for the pulse of the beast until fully satisfied that no pulse existed. Happily we were not far from a station, so that the reduction of our team was of no serious consequence. In this region I observed cribs like roofless log houses placed near the roadside at intervals of a few hundred yards. They were intended to hold materials for repairing the road.

On the upper waters of the Chulim there is a cascade of considerable beauty, according to the statement of some who never saw it. A few years ago a Siberian gold miner discovered a cataract on the river Hook, in the Irkutsk government, that he thought equal to Niagara, and engaged an artist to make a drawing of the curiosity. On reaching the spot, the latter individual found the cascade a very small affair. Throughout Russia, Niagara is considered one of the great wonders of the world, and nothing could have been more pleasing to the Siberians than to find its rival in their own country.

When I first began traveling in Siberia a gentleman one day expressed the hope of seeing America before long, but added, "much pleasure of my visit will be lacking now that you have lost Niagara." I could not understand him, and asked an explanation.

"Why," said he, "since Niagara has been worn away to a continuous rapid it must have lost all its grandeur and sublimity. I shall go there, but I cannot enjoy it as I should have enjoyed the great cataract."

I explained that Niagara was as perfect as ever, and had no indication of wearing itself away. It appeared that some Russian newspaper, misled, I presume, by the fall of Table Rock, announced that the whole precipice had broken down and left a long rapid in place of the cataract. Several times during my journey I was called upon to correct this impression.

At the third station beyond Achinsk we found a neat and well kept room for travelers. We concluded to dine there, and were waited upon by a comely young woman whose coiffure showed that she was unmarried. She brought us the samovar, cooked our pilmania, and boiled a dizaine of eggs. Among the Russians articles which we count by the dozen are enumerated by tens. "Skolka stoit, yieetsa?" (How much do eggs cost), was generally answered, "Petnatzet capecka, decetu" (fifteen copecks for ten.) Only among the Western nations one finds the dozen in use.

While we were at dinner the cold sensibly increased, and on exposing my thermometer I found it marking -18 deg. Fahrenheit. Schmidt wrapped himself in all his furs, and I followed his example. Thus enveloped we filled the entire breadth of our sleigh and could not turn over with facility. A sharp wind was blowing dead ahead, and we closed the front of the vehicle to exclude it. The snow whirled in little eddies and made its way through the crevices at the junction of our sleigh-boot with the hood. I wrapped a blanket in front of my face for special protection, and soon managed to fall asleep. The sleigh poising on a runner and out-rigger, caused the doctor to roll against me during the first hour of my slumber, and made me dream that I was run over by a locomotive. When I waked I found my breath had congealed and frozen my beard to the blanket. It required careful manipulation to separate the two without injury to either.

When we stopped to change horses after this experience, the stars were sparkling with a brilliancy peculiar to the Northern sky. The clear starlight, unaided by the moon, enabled us to see with great distinctness. I could discover the outline of the forest away beyond the village, and trace the road to the edge of a valley where it disappeared. Every individual star appeared endeavoring to outshine his rivals, and cast his rays to the greatest distance. Vesta, Sirius, and many others burned with a brightness that recalled my first view of the Drummond light, and seemed to dazzle my eyes when I fixed my gaze upon them.

The road during the night was rough but respectable, and we managed to enjoy a fair amount of slumber in our contracted chambre a deux. Before daylight we reached a station where a traveling bishop had just secured two sets of horses. Though outside the jurisdiction of General Korsackoff, I exhibited my special passport knowing it could not, at all events, do any harm. Out of courtesy the smotretal offered to supply us as soon as the bishop departed. The reverend worthy was dilatory in starting, and as we were likely to be delayed an hour or two, we economized the time by taking tea. I found opportunity for a short nap after our tea-drinking was over, and only awoke when the smotretal announced, "loshadi gotovey"

In the forenoon we entered upon the steppe where trees were few and greatly scattered. Frequently the vision over this Siberian prairie was uninterrupted for several miles. There was a thin covering of snow on the open ground, and the dead grass peered above the surface with a suggestion of summer fertility.

Shortly after noon I looked through the eddies of snow that whirled in the frosty air, and distinguished the outline of a church. Another and another followed, and very soon the roofs and walls of the more prominent buildings in Tomsk were visible. As we entered the eastern gate of the city, and passed a capacious powder-magazine, our yemshick tied up his bell-tongues in obedience to the municipal law. Our arrival inside the city limits was marked by the most respectful silence.

We named a certain hotel but the yemshick coolly took us to another which he assured us was "acleechny" (excellent). As the exterior and the appearance of the servants promised fairly, we made no objection, and allowed our baggage unloaded. The last I saw of our yemshick he was receiving a subsidy from the landlord in consideration of having taken us thither. The doctor said the establishment was better than the one he first proposed to patronize, so that we had no serious complaint against the management of the affair. Hotel keepers in Siberia are obliged to pay a commission to whoever brings them patrons, a practice not unknown, I believe, in American cities.

We engaged two rooms, one large, and the other of medium size. The larger apartment contained two sofas, ten or twelve chairs, three tables, a boy, a bedstead, and a chamber-maid. The boy and the maid disappeared with a quart or so of dirt they had swept from the floor. We ordered dinner, and took our ease in our inn. Our baggage piled in one corner of the room would have made a creditable stock for an operator in the "Elbow Market" at Moscow. We thawed our beards, washed, changed our clothing, and pretended we felt none the worse for our jolting over the rough road from Krasnoyarsk.

The hotel, though Asiatic, was kept on the European plan. The landlord demanded our passports before we removed our outer garments, and apologized by saying the regulations were very strict. The documents went at once to the police, and returned in the morning with the visa of the chief. Throughout Russia a hotel proprietor generally keeps the passports of his patrons until their bills are paid, but this landlord trusted in our honor, and returned the papers at once. The visa certified there were no charges against us, pecuniary or otherwise, and allowed us to remain or depart at our pleasure. It is a Russian custom for the police to be informed of claims against persons suspected of intent to run away. The individual cannot obtain authority to depart until his accounts are settled. Formerly the law required every person, native and foreign, about to leave Russia, to advertise his intention through a newspaper. This formula is now dispensed with, but the intending traveler must produce a receipt in full from his hotel keeper.

At the hotel we found a gentleman from Eastern Siberia on his way to St. Petersburg. He left Irkutsk two days behind me, passed us in Krasnoyarsk, and came to grief in a partial overturn five miles from Tomsk. He was waiting to have his broken vehicle thoroughly repaired before venturing on the steppe. He had a single vashok in which he stowed himself, wife, three children, and a governess. How the whole party could be packed into the carriage I was at a loss to imagine. Its limits must have been suggestive of the close quarters of a can of sardines.

We used our furs for bed clothing and slept on the sofas, less comfortably I must confess than in the sleigh. The close atmosphere of a Russian house is not as agreeable to my lungs as the open air, and after a long journey one's first night in a warm room is not refreshing. There was no public table at the hotel; meals were served in our room, and each item was charged separately at prices about like those of Irkutsk.

In the morning we put on our best clothes, and visited the gubernatorial mansion. The governor was at St. Petersburg, and we were received by the Vice-Governor, an amiable gentleman of about fifty years, who reminded me of General S.R. Curtis. Before our interview we waited ten or fifteen minutes at one end of a large hall. The Vice-Governor was at the other end listening to a woman whose streaming eyes and choked utterance showed that her story was one of grief. The kind hearted man appeared endeavoring to soothe her. I could not help hearing the conversation though ignorant of its purport, and, as the scene closed, I thought I had not known before the extent of pathos in the Russian language.

We had a pleasant interview with the vice-governor who gave us passports to Barnaool, on learning that we wished to visit that place. Among those who called during our stay was the golovah of Tomsk, a man whose physical proportions resembled those of the renowned Wouter Van Twiller, as described by Washington Irving. Every golovah I met in Siberia was of aldermanic proportions, and I wondered whether physical developments had any influence in selections for this office. Just before leaving the governor's residence, we were introduced to Mr. Naschinsky, of Barnaool, to whom I had a letter of introduction from his cousin, Paul Anossoff. As he was to start for home that evening, we arranged to accompany him. Our visit ended, we drove through the principal streets, and saw the chief features of the town.

Tomsk takes its name from the river Tom, on whose banks it is built. It stands on the edge of the great Baraba steppe, and has about twenty thousand inhabitants of the usual varied character of a Russian population. I saw many fine houses, and was told that in society and wealth the city was little inferior to Irkutsk. Here, as at other places, large fortunes have been made in gold mining. Several heavy capitalists were mentioned as owners of concessions in the mining districts. Many of their laborers passed the winter at Tomsk in the delights of urban life. The city is of considerable importance as it controls much of the commerce of Siberia. The site is picturesque, being partly on the low ground next the river, and partly on the hills above it. In contemplating the location, I was reminded of Quebec. I found much activity in the streets and market places, and good assortments of merchandise in the shops.

Near our hotel, over a wide ravine, was a bridge, constantly traversed by vehicles and pedestrians, and lighted at night by a double row of lamps. Some long buildings near the river, and just outside the principal market had a likeness to American railway stations, and the quantities of goods piled on their verandas aided the illusion. About noon the market-place was densely crowded, and there appeared a brisk traffic in progress. There was a liberal array of articles to eat, wear, or use, with a very fair quantity for which no use could be imagined.

In summer there is a waterway from Tomsk to Tumen, a thousand miles to the westward, and a large amount of freight to and from Siberia passes over it. Steamers descend the Tom to the Ob, which they follow to the Irtish. They then ascend the Irtish, the Tobol, and the Tura to Tumen, the head of navigation. The government proposes a railway between Perm and Tumen to unite the great water courses of Europe and Siberia. A railway from Tomsk to Irkutsk is among the things hoped for by the Siberians, and will be accomplished at some future day. The arguments urged against its construction are the length of the route, the sparseness of population, and the cheap rates at which freight is now transported. Probably Siberia would be no exception to the rule that railways create business, and sustain it, but I presume it will be many years before the locomotive has a permanent way through the country.

Some years ago it was proposed to open a complete water route between Tumen and Kiachta. The most eastern point that a steamer could attain in the valley of the Ob is on the river Ket. A canal about thirty miles long would connect the Ket with the Yenesei, whence it was proposed to follow the Angara, Lake Baikal, and the Selenga to Oust Kiachta. But the swiftness of the Angara, and its numerous rapids, seventy-eight in all, stood in the way of the project. At present no steamers can ascend the Angara, and barges can only descend when the water is high. To make the channel safely navigable would require a heavy outlay of money for blasting rocks, and digging canals. I could not ascertain that there was any probability of the scheme being realized.

In 1866 twelve steamers were running between Tumen and Tomsk. These boats draw about two feet of water, and tow one or more barges in which freight is piled. No merchandise is carried on the boats. Twelve days are consumed in the voyage with barges; without them it can be made in a week. All the steamers yet constructed are for towing purposes, the passenger traffic not being worth attention. The golovah of Tomsk is a heavy owner in these steamboats, and he proposed increasing their number and enlarging his business. A line of smaller boats has been started to connect Tomsk with Achinsk. The introduction of steam on the Siberian rivers has given an impetus to commerce, and revealed the value of certain interests of the country. An active competition in the same direction would prove highly beneficial, and bye and bye they will have the railway.

During my ride about the streets the isvoshchik pointed out a large building, and explained that it was the seminary or high school of Tomsk. I was told that the city, like Irkutsk, had a female school or "Institute," and an establishment for educating the children of the priests. The schools in the cities and large towns of Siberia have a good reputation, and receive much praise from those who patronize them. The Institute at Irkutsk is especially renowned, and had during the winter of 1866 something more than a hundred boarding pupils. The gymnasium or school for boys was equally flourishing, and under the direct control of the Superintendent of Public Instruction for Eastern Siberia. The branches of education comprise the ordinary studies of schools everywhere—arithmetic, grammar, and geography, with reading and writing. When these elementary studies are mastered the higher mathematics, languages, music, and painting follow. In the primary course the prayers of the church and the manner of crossing one's self are considered essential.

Most of those who can afford It employ private teachers for their children, and educate them at home. The large schools in the towns are patronized by the upper and middle classes, and sometimes pupils come from long distances. There are schools for the peasant children, but not sufficiently numerous to make education general. It is a lamentable fact that the peasants as a class do not appreciate the importance of knowledge. Hitherto all these peasant schools have been controlled by the church, the subordinate priests being appointed to their management.

Quite recently the Emperor has ordered a system of public instruction throughout the empire. Schools are to be established, houses built, and teachers paid by the government. Education is to be taken entirely from, the hands of the priests, and entrusted to the best qualified instructors without regard to race or religion. The common school house in the land of the czars! Universal education among the subjects of the Autocrat! Well may the other monarchies of Europe fear the growing power and intelligence of Russia. May God bless Alexander, and preserve him many years to the people whose prosperity he holds so dearly at heart.



CHAPTER XLIII.

When we left Tomsk in the evening, the snow was falling rapidly, and threatened to obliterate the track along the frozen surface of the river. There were no post horses at the station, and we were obliged to charter private teams at double the usual rates. The governor warned us that we might have trouble in securing horses, and requested us to refer to him if the smotretal did not honor our pada ashnia. We did not wish to trespass further on his kindness, and concluded to submit to the extortion and say nothing. The station keeper owned the horses we hired, and we learned he was accustomed to declare his regular troikas "out" on all possible occasions. Of course, a traveler anxious to proceed, would not hesitate long at paying two or three roubles extra.

We dashed over the rough ice of the Tom for a few versts and then found a road on solid earth. We intended to visit Barnaool, and for this purpose left the great road at the third station, and turned southward. The falling snow beat so rapidly into our sleigh that we closed the vehicle and ignored the outer world. Mr. Naschinsky started with us from Tomsk, but after a few stations he left us and hurried away at courier speed toward Barnaool. He proved an avant courier for us, and warned the station masters of our approach, so that we found horses ready.

On this side road the contract requires but three troikas at a station. Three sleighs together were an unusual number, so that the smotretals generally obtained one or both our teams from the village. On the last half of the route the yemshicks did not take us to the stations but to the houses of their friends where we promptly obtained horses at the regular rates. The peasants between Tomsk and Barnaool own many horses, and are pleased at the opportunity to earn a little cash with them.

Snow, darkness, and slumber prevented our seeing much of the road during the night. In the morning, I found we were traveling through an undulating and generally wooded country, occasionally crossing rivers and small lakes on the ice. The track was a wonderful improvement over that between Tomsk and Krasnoyarsk. The stations or peasant houses where we changed horses, were not as good as those on the great road. The rooms were frequently small and heated to an uncomfortable degree. In one house, notwithstanding the great heat, several children were seated on the top of the stove, and apparently enjoying themselves. The yemshicks and attendants were less numerous than on the great road, but we could find no fault with their service. On one course of twenty versts our sleigh was driven by a boy of thirteen, though seemingly not more than ten. He handled the whip and reins with the skill of a veteran, and earned an extra gratuity from his passengers.

The road was marked by upright poles ten or twelve feet high at distances of one or two hundred feet. There were distance posts with the usual black and white alternations, but the figures were generally indistinct, and many posts were altogether wanting. On the main road through the whole length of Siberia, there is a post at every verst, marking in large numbers the distance to the first station on either side of it. At the stations there are generally posts that show the distance to Moscow, St. Petersburg, and the provincial or 'government' capitals on either side.