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From the Arctic
Ocean to the Yellow Sea
Julius Mendes Price


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FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
TO THE YELLOW SEA.


NOTE.
I am indebted to the proprietors of the Illustrated London
News for their kind permission to reproduce in this work the
sketches and drawings I made for them whilst on my journey,
a great many of which have already appeared in that paper; and
also for the use of the text accompanying them, which has formed
the basis of this work.





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FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
TO THE YELLOW SEA.
THE NARRATIVE OF A JOURNEY,
IN 1890 AND 1891, ACROSS SIBERIA, MONGOLIA,
THE GOBI DESERT AND NORTH CHINA.
>
Y
JULIUS M. PRICE, F.R.G.S.,
Special Artist of the “ Illustrated London News.”
WITH ONE Hundred and Forty-Two ILLustrations
From sketc.H.ES BY THE AUTHor
LONDON :
SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON & COMPANY
LIMITED,
St. Đunstan's bouse,
FETT E R I, A N E, F L E E T S T R E ET, E.C.
1892. -
[All rights reserved.]


- - - -
·-
• • • • •
• • • • • •
+ →
• • • • • •


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Before leaving Siberia, probably for ever, I am desirous of
recording my gratitude for the assistance afforded me and the
many kindnesses I received during the winter I spent there.
From the highest officials to the humblest employé, the courtesy
I was shown on all occasions was so great, that in all my
varied experiences of travel I remember nothing to equal it; and
if it is the same all over this mighty empire, I trust that my
wanderings will lead me some day into Greater Russia itself.
Amongst the many gentlemen to whom I owe a special debt of
gratitude, I may mention Mr. E. Wostrotine, in Yeniseisk;
General Telakoffsky, Dr. Peacock, and Messrs. Cheripanoff,
Matwieff, and Kusnitsoff, in Krasnoiarsk; General Grimiken, M.
Soukatchoff, and Mr. Charles Lee, in Irkutsk; and M. Feodroff
and M. Shollingen, in Ourga.
J. M. P.





P. R. E. F. A. C. E.
-o-
A FEW introductory remarks are, I feel, necessary, if
only to give the raison d'être of my journey, and as
a sort of apology for adding to the already formidable
array of books of Asiatic travel.
The celebrated voyage of Captain Wiggins in
1887, when he successfully accomplished the feat of
navigating a steamer (the Phoenix) across the Kara
Sea and up the river Yenisei to the city of Yeniseisk,
is too well remembered for it to be necessary for me
to recapitulate an exploit which is destined to become
historic, solving as it did the much-vexed question of
the practicability of establishing commercial relations
between England and Siberia viá the Arctic Ocean
and the Kara Sea.
This successful expedition, opening up such im-
mense possibilities, naturally encouraged its financial
promoters to follow it up by another and much more
important one. Towards the end of July in the
following year, therefore, the Labrador, a powerful


viii PREFA CE.
wooden steamer specially built for Arctic work, was
despatched to the mouth of the Yenisei with a cargo
of “all sorts,” with which to try the Siberian market;
the Phoenix, which had been laid up for the winter
at Yeniseisk, being commissioned to proceed down
the river and fetch back the cargo brought out by
the Labrador, the latter vessel being too large to be
able to get such a distance from the estuary. For
all this, special permission had naturally to be got
from the Russian Government; but so far from
making any objections or putting any obstacles in
the way of the scheme, the officials, advised of course
from head-quarters, lent every assistance in their
power and showed a most friendly spirit. Through
a diversity of causes, into which it is not necessary
to enter here, the expedition failed to accomplish its
purpose, and the Labrador returned to England
without having crossed the Kara Sea at all. An
ordinary man would have been discouraged, at any
rate for a time, by such a failure; but Wiggins is
not of that stuff. Nothing daunted, he at once began
trying to raise “the sinews of war” for a fresh
expedition, and was so successful (such confidence
had his friends in him), that the following year the
Labrador once again started for the far North-East—
but only to meet with another failure, though this


PREFA CE. ix
time the failure, it was proved afterwards, could have
been easily averted. In fact, so conclusively was
this proved, that, emboldened with the knowledge of
how near it had been to being a success, a syndicate
of rich and influential London men was without
difficulty got together, and it was at once decided
that two ships should be sent out the following year,
and that everything possible should be done to
ensure success. This time there were no half-hearted
measures; money was forthcoming, and with it
a renewed enthusiasm in the scheme, which, I may
add parenthetically, helped not a little to bring
about its eventually satisfactory result; this not-
withstanding the fact that the expedition started
handicapped by the untoward absence (owing to his
having met with shipwreck on his way to join us)
of Captain Wiggins, the leading spirit of the project.
Talking about Russia one morning with Mr. In-
gram at the office of the Illustrated London News, he
suddenly suggested my going out as their “special
artist” with this expedition. The love of travel and
the spirit of adventure are so strong in me, that with-
out the slightest hesitation I eagerly caught at the
idea; in fact, had he suggested my riding across the
Sahara on a bicycle I should probably have jumped
at it with just as much alacrity.


X PREFA CE.
Well, to cut a long story short, after a lot of
correspondence had passed between us, the “Anglo-
Siberian Trading Syndicate” agreed to take me, sub-
ject to certain restrictions as to publication of sketches
and matter relating to the expedition, and to land me
eventually, if all went well, at the city of Yeniseisk,
in the heart of Siberia. On my taking a map of the
route down to the office, and asking Mr. Ingram
where I was to go if I ever found myself there, “You
can go wherever you like, so long as you send us
plenty of interesting sketches for the paper,” was his
generous reply. With liberty, therefore, to roam all
over the world, so to speak, and with unlimited time
and plenty of means at my disposal, I started on a
journey, the narrative of which I now venture to put
in print, in the hope that at any rate some parts of
it may give a few fresh facts about the vast continent
I traversed from north to south.
In conclusion, I must candidly confess I arrived
in Siberia with foregone conclusions derived from
the unreliable information and exaggerated stories
so current in England about this part of the world.
How far my subsequent experiences dispelled the
prejudices with which I started, the reader of my
narrative may judge for himself. I have touched but
en passant on the exile and prison system, for nothing


PREFA CE. xi
was further from my thoughts, when I undertook
the journey, than to make a profound study of this
question. Efforts in this direction have been made
both by prejudiced and unprejudiced writers, all of
whom, however, are agreed on the main point, that
the system is an anachronism and unsuitable to
the present age. What I felt was that in Siberia,
that vast country with such immense natural re-
sources, there must be much which would be novel
and interesting to study in its social aspect, apart
from the actual prison life and hardships with which
the name of Siberia has always been associated ; so I
determined to devote my chief attention to phases
of life which are still, in general, so little known
that to many readers, probably, much that I have
attempted to describe in these pages will come, as
it did to me, in the light of a revelation.
JULIUS M. PRICE.
SAVAGE CLUB, LoNDON,
March, 1892.


C O N TENT'S -
CHAPTER I.
FROM BIACKWALL TO SIBERIA.
Page
The object of the expedition—The steamer Biscaya and
its passengers and cargo—Across the North Sea—
Uncomfortable experiences—First glimpse of Nor-
way–Aalesund–The Lofoden Islands—The mid-
night sun–A foretaste of the Arctic regions—“Cape
Flyaway”—Our ice-master, Captain Crowther—We
sight the coast of Siberia—The village of Kharbarova
—The entrance to the Kara Sea ... --- --- l
CHAPTER II.
THE KARA SEA.
In the midst of the ice-floes—Tedious work—Weird
effects at twilight—A strange meeting—We pay a
visit to the home of the walrus-hunter—Curio-
hunting—A summer morning in the ice—Delightful
experience—The Arctic mirage—We part from our
new friends—An uncertain post-office—Ice-bound—
Novel experiences—Seal-hunting --- ... 16
CHAPTER III.
The KARA SEA—continued.
Further impressions of the Arctic regions—The awful
silence—Average thickness of the ice—On the move


xiv. CONTENTS.
once more—A fresh danger—A funny practical joke
—The estuary of the River Yenisei–Golchika–A
visit from its inhabitants—From Golchika to Karaoul
CHAPTER IV.
THE PORT OF KARAOUL AND ITS INHABITANTS,
The tundras of Northern Siberia—The Samoyedes—
Arrival of the Phoenix—My first Russian meal—
Vodka and tea—Our departure for Kasanskoi
CHAPTER V.
KASANSK0I.
Our Russian customs officer—A shooting-excursion—Visit
to the settlement of Kasanskoi—The house of a
Siberian trader—Interesting people—First experi-
ence of Russian hospitality—The return of the
Phoenix—Departure of the Biscaya
CHAPTER WI.
THE RIVER WOYAGE OF THE PHOENIX UP TO YENIS EISK.
The Yenisei river—Its noble proportions—Scenery along
the banks—The first tree—Our first mishap—The
return of the tug-An exciting incident
CHAPTER VII.
The River voyage—continued.
An awful fatality—Misfortune follows misfortune—M.
Sotnikoff—Sellivanaka, the settlement of the Skopti
—A visit from the village “elder.” - -
pAge
27
36
48
60
70


CONTENTS. XV
CHAPTER VIII.
TURUCHANSK.
Page
Visit to the monastery—Werchneimbackskoi—Our first
visit from official Russia—The police officer of the
district—The village priest - 80
CHAPTER IX.
THE KAMIN RAPIDS.
A whole chapter of accidents—First touch of winter—
Arrival at Yeniseisk - 88
CHAPTER X.
THE CITY OF YENIS EISK.
Custom-house officials—Novel sights in market-place and
streets—My lodgings—Siberian idea of “board and
lodging" — Society in Yeniseisk — A gentleman
criminal exile ... 97
CHAPTER XI.
THE CITY OF YENISEISK—continued.
A visit to the prison—First impressions of the Siberian
system 107
CHAPTER XII.
YENISEISK—continued.
The hospital–Siberian houses—Their comfort—The
streets of the city --- - ... 117


xvi CONTENTS.
CHAPTER XIII.
From YENIS EISK TO KRASNOIARSK.
pAge
My first experience of sledging—A delightful adventure—
Krasnoiarsk—The market-place—The High Street... 123
CHAPTER XIV.
KRASNOIARSK–continued.
Privileged criminal exiles — Ordinary criminals – A
marching convoy on the road—Convoy soldiers—The
convoy—Proceedings on arrival at the Perasilny of
Krasnoiarsk—The staroster of the gang—A stroll
round the Perasilny—The married prisoners' quarters
—A “privileged” prisoner in his cell—Scene outside
the prison—Prison labour—I give it a trial—Details
as to outside employment of prisoners ... ... 134
CHAPTER XV.
MY JOURNEY FROM KRASNOIARSK TO IRKUTSK.
My servant Matwieff—The Great Post Road—The post-
houses—Tea caravans—Curious effect of road—
Siberian lynch law—Runaway convicts—A curious
incident—The post courier—An awkward accident—
Arrival at Irkutsk --- --- --- ... 156
CHAPTER XVI.
IRKUTSK.
Unpleasant experiences at hotel—Hospitality of Mr.
Charles Lee—First impressions of the city ... 180


CONTENTS.
xvii
CHAPTER XVII.
PRISON LIFE IN siberi.A—continued.
The Irkutsk prison—Comparative liberty of prisoners—
Incongruities of prison life—The “shops”—Prison
artists
CHAPTER XVIII.
PRISON LIFE IN siberIA—continued.
Outdoor employment of prisoners—A chat with an em-
ployer of convict labour—The “convict's word”—
An interview with a celebrated murderess—The
criminal madhouse—Political prisoners in solitary
confinement—I get permission to paint a picture in
one of the cells—End of my visits to the prison
C H A PTE R XIX.
IRKUTsK—continued.
A gold-caravan — Particulars as to the gold-mining
industry of Siberia—The Foundling Hospital—The
fire-brigade—Celebration of the Czar's birthday—
Living in Irkutsk --- --- --
CHAPTER XX.
FROM IRKUTSK TO THE MONGOL CHINESE FRONTIER.
My journey to Kiakhta, the city of the tea princes—
Across Lake Baikal on the ice—Interesting experi-
ences
Page
192
198
208
221


xviii CONTENTS.
The
The
The
CHAPTER XXI.
From IrkuTSK TO THE MONGOL CHINESE FRONTIER—
continued.
road from Lake Baikal to Kiakhta—The “Kupetski
track"—Incidents on the way—I change my sledge
for a tarantass—Exciting adventures—Arrival at
Troitzkosavsk, the business suburb of Kiakhta
CHAPTER XXII.
ACROSS MONGOLIA.
Russo-Chinese frontier—Maimachin—The Mongols
of to-day—Curious customs—Hair-dressing extra-
ordinary–A pestilent farmyard—Exciting incidents
-—A forced encampment—An awful night's experi-
ences—The Manhati Pass—Magnificent scenery—I
pull off a successful “bluff”—“Angliski Boxe” in
the wilds of Mongolia—Arrival at Ourga. ...
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE SACRED CITY OF OURGA.
Russian consul, M. Feodroff—Hospitality of the Con-
sulate—The “lions” of Ourga—The colossal statue
of the “Maidha”—The “Bogdor of Kurene”—An
impromptu interview — Prayer-wheels — Praying-
boards—Religious fervour of the Mongols
CHAPTER XXIV.
From OURGA TO THE GREAT WALL.
My preparations for the journey across the Gobi Desert–
The Russian Heavy Mail—My camel-cart—Good-bye
to Ourga—The first few days out—Discomforts of
the journey—The homeward-bound mail—The desert
settlement of Tcho-Iyr ..
PAGE
235
249
272
301


CONTENTS,
xix
CHAPTER XXV.
The Gobi DESERT-continued.
Sport in the desert—The “post-station” at Oud-en-The
last of the desert—Saham-Balhousar–First impres-
sions of China—Chinese women—Returning to sea-
level—Curious experience—The eclipse of the moon
—Arrival at Kalgan -
CHAPTER XXVI.
KALGAN TO PEKING.
A hearty welcome—Yambooshan—The Great Wall of
China—American missionaries — My mule-litter—
From Kalgan to Peking—Scenery on the road—
Chinese inn–First experience of a Chinese dinner—
Amusing rencontre—The Nankaou Pass—The Second
Parallel of the Great Wall—First impressions of
Peking—The entrance to the city
CHAPTER XXVII.
PEKing.
Exciting times—A chat with Sir John Walsham—The
Chinese city—Horrible scenes—Social life at the
Legations in Peking—Lady Walsham’s “At homes”
—The hardest-worked man in the East—Interesting
evening with Sir Robert Hart—His account of his life
CHAPTER XXVIII.
PEKING (continued)—AND HOME.
Difficulty of sketching in the streets—My journey from
Peking to Tientsin—A Chinese house-boat—The
Peiho River—Tientsin–From Tientsin to Shanghai
—And home
Page
3.18
331
353
371





LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
THE “BisCAYA" LEAVING BLAckwall, ...
PREPARATIONs for THE ARCTIC REGIONs ...
A “DEAD Reckoning ” IN THE KARA SEA
OUR Ice-MASTER, CAPTAIN CRowTHER ---
CLEARING THE DRIFT ICE FROM THE Propeller
THE Home of THE WALRUs-HUNTER ---
THE “BiscAYA" Ice-Bound IN THE KARA SEA ...
After SEALs ... --- --- ---
“ONE Speck of LIFE IN THE ICE-bound WASTE"
The HANDsoMEST MEMBER OF His FAMILY
SAMoyEDE BOATMEN --- ---
RARAoul ---
THE SAMoyedE's GRAVE
A SAMoy EDE LADy --- --- ---
TRANship went of our CARGo To The “PhoeNIx”
OUR CUSTOM-House OFFICER --- ---
KASANskoi --- --- --- ---
TRADER's House AT KASANskoi ... ---
MIN E Host AT KASANskoi ...
Sweet SEVENTEEN
PAGE
--- l
To face 8
... 10
--- 13
... 16
--- 20
To face 24
--- 25
... 27
33
To face 34
36
... 39
43
48
... 50
--- 50
... 51
--- 53
A Home IN Northern Siberia: The MoRNING MEA. To face 54
MATERFAMILIAs --- --- ---
TEMPORARY FARMYARD on on E of THE BARGEs ...
TEA-TIME AT THE MEN's QUARTERs on Shore
Cossacks ... ---
A House-BoAt
THE “PHOENIX ’’ --- ---
LOADING Wood For THE “PhoeNix" ---
DIFFICULT NAVIGATION ---
SELLIVANAKA ... --- --- ---
The PRINCIPAL Thorough FARE, TURUchANsk
OUR FIRST Visit FROM Official Russia ...
WERCHNEIMBAckskol --- ---
INTEREsted Observers ... ---
THE RUSSIAN POLICE OFFICER
THE WILLAGE PRIEST ...
A VILLAGE BoAT ... ---
--- --- ---
To face 61
--- 55
To face 57
--- 57
58
60
-- 66
r-
f
To face 78
... 80
To face 83
-- 83
--- 83
To face 84
--- 85
... 88


xxii I, IST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
-
º
º
A RIVER PILOT - - - --- - - - ---
!, The River YENISE1 AT Worogovo - - - To face
StoriNG THE WINTER FoRAGE : A VILLAGE Scene on THE
YENISEI - - - --- --- ... To face
YENISEisk - - -
PEASANT Woman
v IN THE MARKET-PLACE, YENiseisk --- To face
A PRIson BEAUTY ... --- --- --- ---
• The Governon visiting THE MEN's Prison, YENiseisk
To face
THE MURDERERs’ DEPARTMENT, YENISEIsk Prison
| THE Governor visiting THE Women's PRIson, YENIseisk
To face
CRIMINAL PRISONERs waiting AT YENISEisk For CoNvoy
to start For KRASNOLARsk - - - ... To face
STREET SCENE, YENiseisk -
A WATER-CARRIER ... - - - --- - - - ---
GETTING WATER FROM THE FRozen River YENisei To face
The HIGH STREET, YENiseisk - - - --- **
A Swell --- --- - - - - - - - - -
* The Two Collegiate Schools, YENiseisk ... " To face
* . LIFE IN SIBERIA : AN AFTERNoon DRIVE IN YENiseisk,
f
READY TO START
“Good-BYE” - - - ---
IM THE MEAT MARKET, KRASNOIARsk ...
A Typical SIBERIAN INTERIOR, KRASNOIARSK
* SNow ScAvenger, KRASNoLARsk - - - ... To face
THE CATHEDRAL, KRAsNoLARsk --- ---
A CoNvoy of PrisonERs on THE MARCH (ENLARGEMENT
FROM AN INSTANTANEous Kodak Photo) To face
* . Prisoners UNLoADING SLEDGEs on ARRIVAL At PERAsiLNY,
KRASNOLARSK ... - - - To face
page
89
90
96
97
101
101
107
109
111
112
113
117
118
118
118
119
120
121
123
126
131
132
133
134
138
140
v. VERIFICATION of PrisonERs on ARRIVAL AT PERAsiLNY,
KRASNOIARSK --- --- - - - To face
THE STARoster of THE GANG - - - - - - -
Group of PrisonERs (From A Government Photo)...
A “PRIviligiERT,” or PRIVILEGED PrisonER ...
PEASANT WoMEN SELLING Provisions to PRISONERs
WATCHMAN on DUTY IN FIRE ToweR, KRASNOIARsk To face
My SERVANT ... --- - - -
ARRIVAL At A Post STATION - - - --- - - -
INTERIOR OF A Post-HOUSE --- --- To face
THE IMPERIAL MAIL --- - - - --- --
141
142
144
148
149
155
156
164
166
173


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. xxiii
IRKUTsk ... --- --- --- - - - ---
THE MoskovskAIA Podvorić, IRKUTsk --- To face
AN IRKUTsK BEAUTY ---
ENTRANCE HALL OF MILLIONAIRE Gold-MINE Owner's
House, IRKUTsk --- --- - - - ---
STREET SCENE, IRKUTsk --- --- ---
A Cossack --- --- --- ... To face
AN IRKUTsk PolicEMAN ... --- • -- --
THE MUSEUM, IRKUtsk - - - ---
THE RECREATION GROUND, IRKUTsk Prison --
MARRIED PRISONERs waiting To BE served witH NEw
CLothes on ARRIVAL AT PRIson, Irkutsk To face
THE PRISON ARTIST --
THE BARONEss --- --- - - - - - -
A “PoliticAL” (FRom A GoverNMENT Photo) To face
“Sweeth EARts AND WIVEs: ” Visiting-DAY IN THE IRKUTsk
PRISON --- - - - --- ... To face
AUTOGRAPH LETTER FROM THE BARONEss ->
THE HIGH STREET, Irkutsk --- ---
IN THE Courtyard of A FIRE STATION, IRKUtsk
The Gover Nor-GENERAL's House, Irkutsk
STREET SCENE, IRKUtsk ---
A Bit on THE ROAD TO LAKE BAIKAL
THE RIVER ANGARA NEAR LAKE BAIKAI,
LIESTVINItz, on LAKE BAIKAL
A LAKE BAIKAL STEAMER
Crossing LAKE BAIKAL ---
THE KUPETsKI TRACK ---
A Post-House ON THE KUPETsKI TRACK
A TEA CART --- --- --- - - -
DAY-DREAMs: A Sketch IN THE TRANs-BAIKAL To face
THE HIGH STREET, Troitzkos Avsk ... - - - --
My FIRST GLIMPSE of Mongolia
--
Page
180
180
185
186
188
190
191
191
192
193
196
201
205
206
207
208
215
218
220
221
225
229
231
233
235
238
240
242
245
246
247
A Bourriate LADy --- - - - --- - - -
SKETCH By A PoliticAL PRisoner, MADE whilst on THE
MARch Across SibERIA (THE ORIGINAL Is IN SEPLA
AND WHITE) --- --- - - - To face
ON THE Road to OURGA ... - - - --- -
A Mongol You RT - - - - - - ---
A Mongol ---
OUR MIDDAY HALT - - -
A STREET MusiciaN, OURGA ... --- - - - - - -
THE PRINCIPAL THoRough FARE, OURGA ... To face
248
249
253
254
260
272
273


xxiv. LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
A PILGRIM FROM THIBET ... --- ---
A LAMA --- --- --- --- ---
A PRAYER-wheel, OURGA ... ---
PRAYER-BoARDs, OURGA ... --- - - - - - -
“THE OLD, OLD Story ALL THE World over " To face
IN THE CAMEL AND Pony BAzAAR, OURGA - - - --
IN THE BAzAAR, OURGA --- - - -
THE PUNIshMENT of THE “CARGUE : ” A SKETCH outside
--
The Prison, OURGA --- --- To face
AN OURGA BEAUTY --- --- - - - --
IN THE Gobi DESERT ... --- --- - - -
My CAMEL-CART ... --- -- ... To face
Mongol convey ING THE RUssiaN LIGHT MAIL Across the
Gobi DESERT ... --- ... To face
THE MIDDAY HALT IN THE DESERT --- ---
My CARAVAN IN THE DESERT (FRom A Kodak PHoto)
WE MEET THE HOMEWARD-Bound MAIL ---
THE LAMA SETTLEMENT of Tcho-IYR IN THE Gobi DESERT
I TAKE TEA with A LAMA IN THE Gobi Desert To face
THE RUssiaN Post-station IN Mid-DESERT --- - - -
IN THE Gobi DEs ERT : A TEA CARAVAN ON ITS WAY. To
SIBERIA (From A Kodak Photo) --- ---
IN THE Gobi DESERT : LADY WISITORs To our ENCAMP-
MENT ... --- --- --- ... To face
“YE GENTLE SHEPHERDESs of YE STEPPE'' --
STREET Scene, YAMBooshAN (showing THE “GREAT WALL"
on MoUNTAIN IN BACKGROUND) ... ... To face
MY MULE-LITTER --- --- --- * *
The Courtyard of A CHINEs E INN ...
A “Room " IN A CHINESE INN ... --- - - -
A NASTY Bit of RoAD --- --- ... To face
THE GREAT WALL of CHINA AT THE ENTRANCE To NANKAOU
PASS --- --- --- --- To face
CHINESE REVENUE CRUISERs IN Hongkong Roadstead
(FROM A Photo given by SIR Robert HART) To face
Street Scene, TARTAR City, PEKING --- ---
SIR Robert HART, G.C.M.G., IN HIs “DEN” At PEKING
- To face
My House-BoAT ... - - - - - - --- - - -
pAgr:
277
281
283
286
293
294,
295
299
301
303
306
309
313
314
315
316
3.18
320
323
324
332
338
341
343
346
348
SHANGHAI --- - - - --- --- --
363
356
366
375
380


The “BiscAYA” LEAVING BLAckwall.
FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
TO THE YELLOW SEA.
CHAPTER I.
FROM BLACKWALL TO SIBERIA.
The object of the expedition—The steamer Biscaya and its pas-
sengers and cargo—Across the North Sea—Uncomfortable
experiences—First glimpse of Norway—Aalesund—The
Lofoden Islands—The midnight sun—A foretaste of the
Arctic regions—“Cape Flyaway”—Our ice-master, Captain
Crowther—We sight the coast of Siberia—The village of
Kharbarova—The entrance to the Kara Sea.
IN these prosaic days of the nineteenth century one
hardly expects a revival of the adventurous expe-
B


2 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
ditions which made the fame of England in the days
of Frobisher and Drake. As a matter of fact, the
world is almost too well known now for such
adventures to be possible, even were the leaders
forthcoming, and the “good old buccaneering days."
are long past. Still, I could not help thinking, on
the day we left Gravesend for the far North-East,
bound for a region but little known, and with the
uncertainty of ever reaching our destination, that
it must have been under somewhat similar conditions
that the adventurers of old started on their perilous
journeys; with, however, this very great difference
—ours was not a filibustering expedition, but a
commonplace commercial enterprise, backed up by
several well-to-do Englishmen, with absolutely nothing
of the romantic about it beyond the fact of its
having to traverse these wild and comparatively
unknown regions before it could be successfully
achieved. -
We started from the Thames on Friday, July 18,
1890, in the chartered Norwegian steamer Biscaya,
eight hundred tons gross, bound for the Yenisei
River with a nondescript tentative sort of cargo, con-
sisting of a mixture of all sorts, from a steam saw-
mill down to the latest toy for children, our ultimate
destination being the town of Yeniseisk, which is
situated some fifteen hundred miles from the mouth
of this mighty river. The object of the expedition
was to endeavour to open a trade route between


To THE YELLOW SEA. 3
England and Siberia by means of the Kara Sea
passage, which was discovered by Nordenskiold in
1875.
Nothing of particular interest occurred during the
first few days after we left the Thames. We were
so closely packed that it required some careful
arrangement to get us all comfortably stowed, so to
speak. Imagine seven men jammed into a cabin just
about large enough to accommodate four, and each
man with the usual amount of superfluous luggage
without which Englishmen could not possibly travel,
this baggage also stowed in the cabin, and you will
guess that we were packed like sardines. As, how-
ever, no doubt even sardines get used to being
packed, after a time so did we ; and, although the
passage across the North Sea was about as uncom-
fortable a one as I ever experienced, we somehow
managed to settle into our respective grooves long
before we sighted the coast of Norway. Our party
consisted of two representatives of the London
Syndicate, two engineers, a master stevedore (to
unload the ship on arrival), an experienced ice-master,
who knew the Kara Sea thoroughly, the captain of
the Biscaya, and your humble servant. I don't
think I ever was on board a more crowded ship.
Even the decks were packed with all sorts of para-
phernalia, including a large steam-launch and several
pens of live stock; and, so as to obviate any fear of
running short of coal in the outlandish parts we were


4 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
going to, the fore and upper decks had over seventy
tons of loose coal on them. We had a head wind
and a heavy sea nearly the whole way after passing
Harwich, where we dropped our pilot, thus bidding
a last farewell to Old England. Off the Dogger
Bank we went right through the fishing fleet which
congregates there, and took advantage of the oppor-
tunity to get some fresh fish—a matter of no small
difficulty, as the men had a preposterous idea of its
value: they would not take money for it, but actually
had the effrontery to want to swop a couple of small
cod, a ling, and a pair of soles for two bottles of
whiskey and a pound of tobacco Fish is evidently
dearer on the fishing-ground itself than in London.
Whiskey, however, was far more valuable to us than
fish, so, when the men saw we were not buyers on
their terms, they eventually came down to 13 lb.
of ship tobacco (value 2s. 4d.) for the lot, which
was reasonable enough. After passing the Dogger
Bank the wind freshened very considerably towards
evening, and added much to the discomfort of the
crowded ship; in fact, so badly did she roll about
that not only was all our party busy “feeding the
fishes” most of the time, but our cook was also so
ill that he could not attend to his duties, and we
all had to lend a hand in the galley as well as
we could. I had never been a long voyage in a
wooden ship before, so could hardly sleep a wink
all night, owing to the (to me) unusual noise caused


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 5
by the groaning of her timbers as she pitched and
tossed about. It sounded not unlike what I should
imagine it would be sleeping near a lot of new leather
portmanteaus which were being continually shifted.
During the whole of the following day it was blowing
big guns, and the sea was so heavy that the cabin
was almost dangerous to remain in, owing to the
sort of cannonade of packages from all sides, many
things being damaged. There was absolutely nothing
to do but sit down and wait events, and, meanwhile,
make one's self as comfortable as one could under the
circumstances. By the next day the gale had
moderated considerably, and during the morning we
got our first glimpse of Norway—a high, rock-bound
coast, with a dim vista of mountains in the back-
ground. Shortly after, a small pilot-boat hove in
sight, evidently on the chance of a job, probably
taking the Biscaya for a tourist steamer wishing to
pass inside the islands, which is the most picturesque
route, though somewhat longer. We had no time,
however, to waste on scenery, so, although one of
our party, who was suffering from an attack of
dysentery, offered to pay the pilotage (about £15)
out of his own pocket if the calm-water channel was
followed, it was at once decided to keep outside the
whole way up the coast, and thus get on as fast as
possible, more especially as the weather showed signs
of clearing up.
On the Norway coast we anchored for a short


6 FROM THE ARCTION OCEAN
time off the quaint little village of Aalesund, with
its pretty wooden houses nestling under the high
Snow-clad mountains which encircle the beautiful
fiord on which it is situated. I was disappointed
on a nearer inspection of the village, which looked
so quaint as seen from the sea: the houses all
appeared to be almost new, doubtless owing to the
fact that they are all built entirely of wood. The
effect is thoroughly characteristic of Norway, the smell
pervading the place especially so, being, as far as
I could guess, a mixture of paraffin and pickled fish,
with just a soupçon of burnt wood thrown in here
and there. Everything looked as clean as a new
pin, but, as each house is exactly like its neighbour,
the effect is certainly monotonous. Nevertheless,
there were several pretty bits which I should have
liked to sketch had I had time. What, if anything,
struck me most was the entire absence of any
national or picturesque costume, which gives such
local colour to most Continental villages. At
Aalesund the inhabitants looked for all the world
like English people, and their fair hair and blue
eyes added to this resemblance. I was told, how-
ever, that on féte days there are some quaint costumes
to be seen here and there.
No time was lost in getting away, and shortly
after we had lost sight of the quiet little village,
where we had spent a few lazy hours, and were
heading it once more for the far-distant Arctic


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 7
regions. The days after this date began to lengthen
considerably, and, although we had hardly noticed
it at first, it astonished us very much when we
suddenly found that it was eleven o'clock at night,
and yet the sun was shining as brightly as during
the afternoon. When the novelty had worn off, as
it naturally did after a few days, the amount of
daylight almost palled on one. It seemed too absurd
turning in while the sun was up; still, like every-
thing else, one gets used to it after a time. The
next few days were uneventful, as we were out of
sight of land, and the usual monotony of shipboard
life was only broken by the usual skylarking, without
which no sea voyage would be complete.
On July 28 we sighted the Lofoden Islands, about
fourteen miles off on our starboard quarter. It
was a lovely morning, and the lofty snow-capped
mountains towering against the calm eastern sky
presented a grand and impressive sight. The effect
was almost that of a colossal painting, so still was
everything in the bright sunshine. I was so im-
pressed by the quiet grandeur of the scene that I
got out my paint-box and started a sketch, but only
succeeded in making a sort of caricature of my
impressions. Late the next evening we came across
a fleet of small fishing-boats—about the quaintest
lot of craft I ever saw: they looked as if they had
been copied from the frontispiece of the Argosy.
We got some coarse sort of fish from them in


8 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
exchange for tobacco, biscuits, and the inevitable
rum. The men were a very fine-looking set of
fellows, very much like Englishmen (as, in fact, most
Norwegians are), and seemed quite comfortable in
their ramshackle-looking boats. After leaving them
we saw for the first time the curious phenomenon of
the sun above the horizon at midnight. It was so
bright, and the atmosphere so clear, that I took an
instantaneous photograph of a group on deck, and it
came out very well.
The next morning we arrived off the North Cape,
and passed it close in to the shore. We were now
well inside the Arctic Circle, but perceived no
difference whatever in the temperature, except that
perhaps it was warmer than it had been previously.
As a matter of fact, we had out the hose and took a
most enjoyable bath on deck in the warm sunshine.
In the afternoon, however, we had our first taste of
the Arctic regions, as a dense fog came on, and
lasted till late in the evening. Everything seemed
saturated with moisture; the very rigging was
dripping as under a heavy shower.
For the next few days nothing of interest occurred,
when suddenly one morning, as we were nearing
Kolguier Island, we were aroused by the news that
there was a steamer in sight, and soon we were all
on deck eagerly scanning the horizon. Considering
how far we were from the ordinary track of vessels,
our excitement was natural; for what was a ship


i





TO THE YELLOW SEA. 9
doing in these outlandish parts : We soon made out
that it was a large steamer, coming from due north
straight towards us. She was coming at such a
spanking rate that very soon we could see she was
flying the Russian flag; and shortly after she passed
round our stern, and we dipped our colours to each
other as she did so. She then brought up, and
stopped not far from us, while our captain hailed her
in English, and asked if they would take some
letters ashore for us. With difficulty, we understood
their reply to be “Yes.” When, however, in their
turn, they asked us where we were bound for, and
got the reply “Siberia,” they seemed somewhat
astonished, as well they might, for “Siberia” is
vague. We then lowered a boat, and sent them our
packet of letters; after which, bidding each other
farewell by means of our fog-horns, we continued our
way. We subsequently learnt from the mate, who
had been in the boat, that it was a steamer which
had been sent to Nova Zemla to try and discover a
Russian ship, which had been lost there some months
back.
During the remainder of that day our course was
again obscured by thick fog, which prevented us
from sighting Kolguier Island in the afternoon as we
had expected. When, however, we came on deck
after tea, a curious incident occurred. Our ice-
master, who had been intently looking through his
glasses at something which had attracted his atten-


10 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
tion, suddenly declared that he saw land on the
horizon behind us. We were all naturally somewhat
startled at this intelligence, as we hardly expected to
see it in so distant a quarter, for even had we passed
A “DEAD RECKONING” IN THE KARA SEA.
Kolguier in the fog, at the rate we were going it
could not possibly have been so far away from us
in the time. But what land was it, then } for on
looking through our glasses we certainly did see high


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 11
mountains capped here and there with snow, their
base lost in the surrounding mist. On consulting
the chart we were not a bit the wiser, for it seemed
as doubtful as ourselves. I give, as a proof, the
following “caution,” which is printed on the “Map
of the Coast of Russia included between Cape Kanin
and Waygatch Island” (Imray, 1883): “As the sea
comprised within the limits of this chart is very
imperfectly known, no survey of any portion of it
having been made, it should be navigated with more
than ordinary care. The geographical positions of
headlands and islands are all, without exception,
uncertain, and their general delineation is only
approximately accurate.” (This is from the map we
were then consulting.) After a while, however, the
mysterious land gradually disappeared in the distance;
and, as we shortly after sighted the looked-for
Kolguier Island ahead of us, there can be very little
doubt that the mountains we thought we saw were
part of what the sailors call “Cape Flyaway.” It
was a most realistic effect, and, even seen, through
powerful glasses, was exactly like land. -
The sunset that evening was magnificent; in fact,
I never remember seeing such glorious sky effects
anywhere else as I have observed in these latitudes,
the most wonderful part of them being their extra-
ordinary stillness. For at least an hour I have
frequently noticed masses of cumuli absolutely
unchanged either in shape or position.


12 FROM THE ARCTION OCEAN
The days were now beginning to get shorter again,
although it was still broad daylight all night (if such
an expression is English), the sun remaining below
the horizon a few minutes longer every day. By
the way, I believe we were fortunate in getting
in the neighbourhood of the North Cape exactly on
the last day in the year, when the sun is visible
above the horizon at midnight. All of us were now
anxiously looking forward to getting a glimpse of
the coast of Siberia, and yet the weather was so
warm and the sea so calm and blue that it was more
like yachting in the Mediterranean than a voyage
through the dreary Arctic regions; in fact, on
August 4, when we at length sighted the land, the
sun was simply broiling. Lovely, however, as the
day was, it seemed to have very little effect on
the dreary-looking coast-line, for a more dismal and
uninviting country I never saw, flat and uninterest-
ing right down to the very water's edge, and with
a striking absence of any colour, except a dingy
muddy brown. This, of course, is easily accounted
for, as it is only for two or three short months that
the ground is free from snow, and there is no
vegetation in these regions.
Captain Crowther, our ice-master, a veteran Arctic
traveller, who was out with the Eira expedition in
1881–2, and is the only man on board who knows
these parts, now assumed the command of the ship,
and took up his position on the bridge. We were


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 13
about to enter the Kara Sea by the Waygatch
Straits, and it was uncertain as yet if the navigation
was open, as this remote sea is never entirely free
oUR ICE-MASTER, CAPTAIN cRow THER.
from ice. It was to be an exciting time for the next
hour or so, for, if our passage through the Straits
was blocked, we should have to return and try and
get round by the coast of Nova Zemla, a much


14 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
longer and still more doubtful route. Sailing as we
were, on a summer sea and in the warm sunshine,
one could hardly realize that, perhaps a mile or
so ahead, we might find our passage blocked by
impenetrable ice; it seemed so utterly improbable as
to be hardly worth the thought. But we did not
know the Arctic regions yet.
We soon reached the entrance to the Straits,
which are formed by the Island of Waygatch on
one side and Siberia on the other, and are only
about one and a half mile across, passing so close
to the shore that we could plainly distinguish the
battered wreck of a small vessel lying on the beach
near a primitive sort of wooden beacon, which
seemed strangely out of place in so melancholy a
spot. Some distance farther, on the Siberian side,
we could see the small hamlet of Khabarova, con-
sisting of about a dozen wooden huts or cottages
clustered round a little church, with a few fishing-
coracles drawn up on the shingle in front, while a
short distance away were several Polar bear skins
hanging up to dry. It looked unutterably sad, this
poor little outpost of humanity so far away from
the busy world. One could not help wondering
what inducement this dreary Arctic waste could
possibly offer for any one to wish to dwell in it. I
hear, however, that a few Russian merchants live
there, carrying on a sort of trade with the Samoyede
natives in return for furs, walrus tusks, etc.


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 15
Up till now we had been having real summer
weather, with rippling waves sparkling in the brilliant
sunshine. Suddenly the scene changed, and, with
barely any warning, a drenching shower came down,
and with it the wind veered round to the north-east,
dark clouds obscured the sky, and as we entered
the Kara Sea the effect was indescribably weird.
It was like going from daylight into a horrid,
uncanny sort of twilight. Behind us we could still
see the lovely sunshine we had just left, while ahead
the scene was Arctic in the extreme, and thoroughly
realized my wildest expectations. All was cold and
wretched, with a wintry sky overhead. Under the
low cliffs which encircled the dreary shore one could
see huge drifts of snow which the sunshine of the
short Arctic summer had been powerless to disperse,
while for miles round the sea simply bristled with
drift ice in all sorts of uncouth shapes. I felt that
it would require the pencil of a Doré or the pen
of a Jules Werne to convey any adequate idea of
the weird scene in all its desolate grandeur.


CLEARING THE Drift ICE Fito M. The Propellett.
CHAPTER II.
THE KARA SEA.
In the midst of the ice-floes—Tedious work—Weird effects at
twilight—A strange meeting—We pay a visit to the home
of the walrus-hunter—Curio-hunting—A summer morning
in the ice—Delightful experience—The Arctic mirage—
We part from our new friends—An uncertain post-office—
Ice-bound—Novel experiences—Seal-hunting.
NoTWITHSTANDING its unpromising aspect, our plucky
ice-master put the Biscaya straight for the icy
obstacles, and soon we were surrounded on all sides
by ghostly shapes, which appeared to be hurrying
past us like so many uneasy spirits under the leaden
sky. Although the ship was well and skillfully
handled, in a very short time we were actually blocked
in on all sides by huge masses of ice, and remained
so for several hours. Then the floes drifted suffi-


FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN TO THE YELLOW SEA. 17
ciently to allow of our gradually wedging our way
through, which we did with considerable difficulty
and not without several severe bumps; in fact, it was
a wonder to me how we managed to get through
at all, still more without serious damage. Curiously
enough, all the ice for the moment seemed to be
gathered in one spot, for the sea beyond was clear
for several miles ahead after this; then more drifts
appeared, and during the night we were again
hemmed in on all sides.
The next morning the sun was shining in a
cloudless sky once more, a great contrast to our
previous evening's experience, and the effect of the
snow-white drift-ice floating on the blue sea was
very beautiful and novel. This time the water
was sufficiently clear ahead to allow of our passage
without much difficulty, and we proceeded without
any special incident for several hours. Towards
the afternoon, however, we observed a curious effect
on the horizon before us: it was a sort of white
reflection in the sky. Our experienced ice-master, who
had been up to the mast-head with his glasses, how-
ever, did not look at it in the same light as we did ;
to him it was neither novel nor interesting. He
told us that it was the reflection in the sky of
enormous fields of ice, which it would be impossible
to get through, unless we found a passage in some
part of it. For the moment he could see nothing
for it but to turn back and try another course, as the
C


18 FROM THE ARCTIO OCEAN
sea ahead was blocked on either side as far as he
could see. This did not sound cheerful, as it imme-
diately raised visions of wintering in the Arctic
regions, if, indeed, our ship was not smashed up
before then. Without any delay the Biscaya's head
was immediately turned right round to the south-
east, in the hope of finding a clear passage, and
creeping north again under the shelter of the land.
It was wearisome work going right back again over
the old ground, but this was but a forerunner of
what we had to do for some time afterwards, and
by the time we had done with the Kara Sea we had
all learnt a good lesson in patience. So as to econo-
mize the coal, we only steamed half-speed ahead all
the time. After several hours on this course, it was
decided once more to try our luck and get northward
again, and all that night we went steadily on without
meeting with any ice.
The next morning, when we got up on deck, a most
provoking sight awaited us. We were steaming very
slowly, for a few miles ahead of us was the wall of
ice we had been trying in vain to avoid. There it
lay, stretched out as far as the eyes could reach
on either side in the bright sunshine, a ghostly barrier
between us and our route. Our ice-master was pacing
the deck in a very restless manner, and evidently did
not like the look of affairs at all. At last he told us
that it was no good humbugging about it: we were
fairly in for it. As far as he could judge, the Kara


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 19
Sea was full of ice to the north, so that the only
thing we could do was to dodge about on the chance
of finding a weak spot to try and get through. If
we did not succeed in finding a passage, he thought
“it would be a very long job before we got out of
the ice.” His language was forcible enough to carry
weight with it, even if his experience had not, so
once more the ship's course was altered, and we
started on a fresh voyage of discovery, westward this
time. All that day we were pounding along the
fringe of the interminable fields of ice, when, towards
evening, it was decided to try what appeared to be
a sort of opening some few miles ahead, although
it did not look a very hopeful undertaking. For an
hour or so, however, before making the attempt, the
engines were slowed down as much as possible, in
order to give our captains an opportunity of taking
a little rest, as they knew that, once inside the ice,
there would be no time for sleeping. At eight o'clock
the ship's head was turned due north again, and in
a very short time we were entirely surrounded by
ice, which seemed to get more and more compact as
we advanced, if advance it could be called ; for
at times we barely moved at the rate of a mile an
hour, with continual stoppages to enable the men
to clear away the drift-ice from the propeller. Round
us was an extraordinary scene, and one which I hardly
know how to describe. There was not a breath of
air stirring; in the growing twilight the sea looked


20 FROM THE ARCTIO OCEAN
like polished glass, and on it the floating ice, which
was rapidly melting, took all sorts of weird and
grotesque shapes, conjuring up visions of low tide
on some immense shore in antediluvian days, with
uncouth monsters disporting themselves in the
shallow water. We were so much impressed by our
surroundings that we remained on deck watching
the slowly moving
panorama all night,
or, rather, during the
hours which are usu-
ally night, for it was
but a sort of myste-
rious twilight all the
time, which consider-
ably added to the
effect.
Towards morning
we got into somewhat
clearer water, when,
to our great surprise,
we sighted some ves-
sels ahead of us in
the ice. They turned
out to be walrus-
hunters, and, on our
getting up to the
nearest one, a sort of sloop with a crow's-nest at the
mast-head, with a man in it on the look-out, they
THE HOME OF THE WALRUS-HUNTER.


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 21
sent a boat over to us, and we then learnt that they
were all in the same fix as ourselves, and had been
blocked in for some days past, as they also wanted
to get north. They hailed from Hammerfest, and
had been in the Kara Sea since April, but hoped to
be able to get out and on their way back to Norway
towards the end of August. One of our party, an
enthusiastic curio-hunter (without which no party
could be complete), immediately “scented" his prey,
and on inquiry found that the men had on board a
Polar bear's skin they could sell him, also some seal-
skins and walrus tusks; so we jumped into their boat,
and they took us across to have a look at them while
their captain and ours hobnobbed together and talked
Norwegian to their heart's content in the Biscaya's
cabin. On nearer inspection, the sloop proved larger
than we had imagined it, and certainly dirtier. In
a few minutes a cask was hauled up out of the hold,
and a large yellowy-brown bundle, covered thickly
with wet salt, pulled out of it and spread on the
greasy deck. This was the Polar bear's skin we had
come to see. Our curio-hunter's enthusiasm went
down to zero at once, for it was as unlike the snowy-
white rugs one sees in London drawing-rooms as
chalk is to cheese; still, they actually asked the
modest sum of £5 for it in this dirty state. The
sealskins were also very disappointing, and we were
about to return to the boat, when one of the crew
produced a lot of Samoyede costumes and walrus


22 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
tusks, which we all made a rush for, as, at any rate,
they were interesting—and clean. Of such there
were enough to satisfy us all, and they were soon
bought up. I got off cheapest, as I managed to get
some very curious articles in return for my Water-
bury watch, which took the man's fancy. On
returning to the Biscaya we found that it had been
arranged to tow the sloop a short distance, as its cap-
tain said he knew the coast, and thought he could pilot
us through the ice part of the way. The ships there-
fore got under way in company, and most of us then
turned in for a few hours, after a most fatiguing day.
In the morning we were at a standstill, fairly
blocked in on all sides by the ice, which glistened
and sparkled round us till one's eyes ached from the
glare. The sea was as calm as a mill-pond, the sun
was shining in a cloudless sky, and it was so warm
that had it not been for the ice around I should have
suggested having the hose out and a bath on deck,
for the thermometer marked fifty degrees in the
shade. It was simply delightful, and made one feel
quite pleased to be alive, so to speak. I could not
help thinking, as I breathed the exhilarating air, how
few Londoners have ever experienced such delight,
as inhaling this sort of air seems to impart to one a
kind of desire to jump about and give vent to one's
animal spirits in quite a schoolboyish fashion, remind-
ing one of one's youthful days before the cares of
manhood were upon us, when on the weekly half-


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 23
holiday the rush was made for the cricket-ground.
Owing to the purity of the atmosphere, the refraction
or mirage along the horizon was so great that the ice
seemed to be literally standing straight up, thus pro-
ducing the impression of our being surrounded by a
high white wall or cliff—an almost indescribable effect,
and which, when seen through the glasses, reminded
one of a transformation scene at a theatre, when the
background is formed of painted gauze which is
gradually lifted to disclose further surprises behind.
A long and wearisome delay now occurred, as it
was manifestly absurd even to try and advance any
farther in the direction we were in. At last it was
decided that the Biscaya should get out again into
the open sea as soon as possible, as our ice-master
did not like the look of the huge masses of ice which
were pressing tightly on her sides. The walrus-
hunter expressed his intention of remaining where
he was for a few days, to try and get some seals.
Before parting company we entrusted to his care a
packet of letters which he promised to post at the
rather a vague promise on
first port he touched at
his part, as he was uncertain when he would return
to civilization. However, it was worth chancing, as
he might possibly get back before we reached the
end of our long journey. I could not help wondering
how long my letter would take to reach the Strand,
and felt certain I should never find a more uncertain
post-office than this one.
º


24 FROM THE ARCTIO OCEAN
For the next few days we were dodging the ice
in all directions. North, south, east, and west,
everywhere it seemed to be closing in on us, till at
last, during a futile effort to break through, we got
so hemmed in that it was deemed advisable to anchor
to a floe for a time, and see if there was any chance
of the drifts breaking up with the advancing season.
So we brought up at a huge field of hummocky ice,
and some men were sent down with the ice-anchor.
Most of us then enjoyed our first bit of exercise for
a fortnight. It was a novel experience being on
one of these floating islands. Though not very
slippery, one had to be careful. Along the edges
the water deepened gradually, as upon a shore, for
a couple of yards or so, till where the ice ended,
when it suddenly went off into hundreds of fathoms,
which looked like a black abyss beneath us. There
was very little to see, however, and, although we
took our rifles with us, we did not meet with a single
living object, still less a bear or a walrus, as we had
fondly hoped we might. -
The next few days passed quietly. I managed to
do a little sketching, although it was chilly work for
one's feet on the ice. Then the weather changed,
and it came on to rain, with a thick fog accompany-
ing it, so we found the close and stuffy cabin very
cosy after being in the bleak wind outside, and,
if singing (or, rather, making an infernal row)
could help to pass away the time, we certainly


THE “BISCAYA" ICE-Bound IN THE KARA SEA.
[To face p. 24.





TO THE YELLOW SEA. 25
did our best to lose no opportunity, our only draw-
back being that we had not a single musical instru-
ment among us. However, as it generally only was
a question who could invent the most unearthly
noise to accompany the “songs,” the result can be
more easily imagined than described. Sometimes
we managed to get a shot at a stray seal which was
AFTER seals.
rash enough to come within range, but, as they
invariably dived down immediately we had fired,
we could never tell if they had been hit or not, still
less get them. One brute, with a face like that of
an old man, was particularly “cheeky.” He would
come up alongside and almost stand up in the water
and have a good look at us, as much as to say,


26 FROM THE ARCTIC ocean To THE YELLOW SEA.
“Here I am, you fellows ' Why don't you try and
get me ! But you know you can't!” Then, by
the time we had got our rifles and ammunition
ready, he would disappear suddenly, and a few
seconds after come up on the other side of the ship.
After a little of this sort of thing we simply got
mad, and at last there was quite a battery waiting
for him when he did appear. The ice-master, who
was up at the mast-head, and could, from that
elevated position, see him quite plainly under the
water, directed our movements, and when at last
we got a shot at him grew awfully excited, yelling
out, “That's it ! Hit him again in the same place,
and you'll get him 1" We did not get him, however,
for the poor brute dived down, leaving a track of
blood in the water, and did not reappear. We then
got out a boat, and went on a sort of hunting-ex-
pedition round about, but without finding anything;
in fact, we came to the conclusion, after paddling
about for half an hour, that there was nothing to
find, so we gave it up as a bad job.
At last it was decided to up anchor and once
more try our luck, as our captains, and, in fact, all
of us, were getting impatient at the delay, unavoid-
able though it was. The rain appeared to have
loosened the floes considerably, so we were a bit
more hopeful.


*Sea Agº".
“one speck of LIFE IN THE ICE-Bound waste.”
CHAPTER III.
THE KARA SEA–continued.
Further impressions of the Arctic regions—The awful silence—
Average thickness of the ice—On the move once more–A
fresh danger—A funny practical joke—The estuary of
the River Yenisei–Golchika—A visit from its inhabitants
—From Golchika to Karaoul.
THE novelty of being blocked in on all sides by
fields of ice soon wears off. Even the chance of a
shot at a seal now and again fails to enliven one.
The silence of the surroundings is too oppressive;
all seems dead, and it seems like some hideous dream
to row about on these motionless waters, with the
ghostly frozen monstrosities floating around. It
-


28 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
reminded one of Doré's illustrations to Dante's
“Inferno.” One can realize how awful it must be
to be forced to pass a winter in the far North, where
continual night is added to the horrors of the death-
like surroundings. The silence of the great forest
Stanley tells us of in his book must be almost noisy
(if one can use the expression) compared with it;
at any rate, he had living nature around him, whereas
in the Arctic regions all is gloom and eternal silence,
without even vegetation to enliven it. Before leaving
the floe to which we had been anchored, out of
curiosity I ascertained the thickness of the ice, and
to my astonishment I found it averaged seventeen
feet, some pieces being even as much as twenty-five
Jeet in thickness, and this after several weeks of
continuous thaw.
It would take too long to describe the wearisome
attempts we made during the next few days while
trying to break through the immense barrier which
lay between us and the mouth of the Yenisei River,
and during all this time we experienced every
variety of Arctic climate, from hot sunshine to
sudden and icy cold fogs. This delay was trying
to our patience, for time was precious, as we had
to get up the river, discharge cargo, and get the
ship off again on her return journey to England
before the winter ice set in, otherwise it meant
her being fixed in the Kara Sea till the late spring
of next year. At length from the mast-head one


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 29
evening came the long-expected and joyful intelli-
gence that there was clear water visible ahead, and
our ice-master reported having discovered what he
thought looked like a passage to it. This was good
news indeed, as the monotony of the last few days
was beginning to pall on us, and we were none of
us grieved when, after a few more hours of slow
steaming, the intelligence proved correct, and we at
last saw a clear horizon before us. Even then a
new and unexpected danger presented itself. A gale
had been blowing, and, although inside the ice-floes
all was calm as in a lagoon, outside a heavy sea was
running, and the enormous masses of loose ice were
being tossed about like corks. It was an awful sight,
and one of the utmost danger to the Biscaya, as it
was most difficult to steer clear of the huge heaving
masses which threatened at any moment to smash
into us. Fortunately, however, we managed to pass
through them without the slightest injury to the
ship, and we gave a hearty cheer for our skipper
when we found ourselves once more out in the open
sea, and the order was given, for the first time for
many days, “Full speed ahead!”
Before quite leaving the ice behind, I must tell
you of a very funny practical joke our captain played
on us while we were at anchor. One morning, at
about three o'clock, when we were all fast asleep,
we were aroused by the captain rushing into our
cabin in a state of great excitement, and calling out


30 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
to us that there was a bear on the ice close by. To
jump out of one's bunk and make for one's rifle
was the work of a moment, while the captain, who
appeared to be in a frantic state of excitement at
the chance of such capital sport, was rushing about
looking for his ammunition. In a few seconds, and
without waiting to put on coat or slippers, I was
out on the deck, with nothing on but my pyjamas,
in order to get the first shot if possible. I found
all the crew looking over the bulwarks. It was
broad daylight, a cold, raw sort of morning, with a
dense fog enveloping everything a few yards ahead.
About a hundred yards away, on a huge piece of
ice which was slowly drifting towards us, was a large
animal looming out through the mist. It was too
far away to be distinctly made out, but there it was
undoubtedly—a Polar bear. It would make for the
water before I could get a shot, so without the
slightest hesitation I commenced blazing away. It
was so cold standing out in the frosty air, with
scarcely anything on and coming straight from one's
warm bed, that I could scarcely hold my rifle, still
less distinguish the dim outline in the distance at
which I fired four rounds in rapid succession, as I
expected every minute the other fellows would turn
up before I could hit it. All at once, the mass of
ice having by this time drifted nearer, the animal
turned slowly round towards us, and started a
plaintive bleating. “Why, it's only a sheep !” I


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 31
fairly yelled, as I now made out its form quite
distinctly. Immediately there rose from all sides
such shrieks of laughter as were never heard before
in the Arctic regions, I imagine; the crew simply
rolled about the deck in convulsions. As to the
captain and the others, they nearly went into fits.
To my astonishment, I then saw one of the ship's
boats which had been waiting on the other side put
off to fetch back the pseudo-bear—which was only
one of our own sheep, after all, and which the
captain, as a joke, had himself put on the ice, rightly
guessing that in our half-awakened state none of us
would hit it. The others, however, did not turn
out quickly enough, so I was the sole beneficiary of
what was one of the funniest practical jokes I ever
heard of, and I laughed as heartily as any of them
when I “twigged” it all. It was no use going back
to bed again directly, so, to show I could appreciate
a good bit of fun, and to keep out the cold, we
opened a bottle of whiskey, and spent a pleasant hour,
while laughing again and again at the description
of how I looked, rushing out on deck in my pyjamas,
half asleep, and firing wildly over the side of the
ship. The sheep (which had been condemned for
mutton), in recognition of its valour while under
fire, was reserved as our very last victim for the
flesh-pot.
We were once more fairly on our way towards
the Yenisei, and, although we sighted a great deal


32 FROM THE ARCTIO OCEAN
more ice, we encountered none which formed any
serious obstacle ; we evidently had passed the worst.
On August 11 we got as far north as it was necessary
for us to go (our position being at the time 75 deg.
north), and probably very few of us will ever get
so near the North Pole again. It was a real Arctic
day, as I take it, wretchedly cold, with heavy rain
and a dense fog, so there was nothing for it but to
remain in the cabin all day. In the afternoon we
crossed the estuary to the river Ob, and—curious
phenomenon—passed through fresh water for some
hours. We got some on deck, and found it drink-
able though brackish.
It was now only a question of making up for
lost time, as it had been arranged that the river
steamer, the Phaenia, should come from Yeniseisk
and meet us at the mouth of the river about
August 12, which would give us ample time to
get out from England, allowing for delays. We
reached our place of rendezvous on the 13th–
wonderful time, all things considered—and brought
up opposite the little station of Golchika, without
seeing anything of the ship which ought to have
been waiting for us. The river here was about ten
miles wide, and the coast on either side was as bare
and desolate as that we had seen when passing
through the Waygatch Straits. It was profanely
though graphically described by one of our party,
who remarked that it looked as if it were “the last


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 33
place God had made, and He had forgotten to
finish it !”
In reply to our gun, which we fired as a signal,
a boatful of men put off from the land, and soon
THE HANDSOMEST MEMBER OF his FAMILY.
reached the ship, and then we had before us our
first visitors from the kingdom of the White Czar.
There were six of them—two Russians, and the rest
Samoyede natives. Good specimens of the Mongolian
D


34 FROM THE ARCTIO OCEAN
race, they were dressed in what looked like un-
dressed sheep-skin of great age, judging from its
colour, the fur being worn inside next their bodies.
The two Russians were dressed in the usual peasant
costume of the country. We could none of us
make ourselves understood, although I got out my
guide-book and vainly tried to pronounce some jaw-
dislocating words; so we stood grinning at each
other for several minutes, till some one thought of
offering them a cigarette. This time no interpreter
was necessary. What we wanted to find out from
them was whether they had seen anything of the
Phaenia, but could not make them understand; in
fact, our difficulty now was to get rid of them—to
let them know we were pleased to have had the
pleasure of meeting them, but that “enough was as
good as a feast.” As they did not understand a hint,
we simply pointed down to their boat, waving our
hands to them as a sign for them to depart; this
they acted on, but not before they had insisted on
shaking hands with us all round—rather a trying
ordeal. After their departure, it was decided to
anchor in mid-stream and wait a few hours for the
Phaenia, before we attempted reaching the next
station without a pilot.
In the mean time, the steam-launch we had on
board was got out and put in readiness. The follow-
ing day, there still being no signs of the Phaenix, it
was decided to attempt to reach the next station,


--
---
--
º
|
|\||
º
|
|
i





TO THE YELLOW SEA. 35
Karaoul, a distance of about a hundred and sixty
miles, without her, as it was thought she might
have met with an accident on her way down with
so many lighters in tow; so, with the launch a few
hundred yards ahead taking soundings, the Biscaya
left Golchika, and started up the river in the hope of
seeing the missing ship. We made slow but sure
progress, considering we had no pilot, and how
imperfect our only chart was, and it certainly was
a bit of luck that we got on so well as we did, as
the river is full of sandbanks. No incident worthy
of note occurred. It was blowing a nasty head wind
all the time, so those in the launch had a rough and
wet time of it, as the river averaged three miles
wide the whole way, and there was no shelter what-
ever; yet they stuck to their work manfully, although
they were nearly swamped several times by the
heavy seas. Towards evening the next day we came
in sight of a solitary log-cabin on the dreary shore,
with a dilapidated sort of storehouse next to it;
close to the water's edge stood a Samoyede tent
with a lot of native dogs lying round it; all about
were empty casks and other miscellaneous rubbish.
Not a human being was in sight. We had safely
accomplished the risky voyage from Golchika without
a pilot; for this wretched little station off which
we dropped anchor, with all our colours flying, was
Karaoul, the goal of the Biscaya's voyage.


KARAOUL.
CHAPTER IV.
THE PORT OF KARAOUL AND ITS INHABITANTS.
The tundras of Northern Siberia—The Samoyedes—Arrival of
the Phoenix—My first Russian meal—Vodka and tea—Our
departure for Kasanskoi.
IN my last chapter I told you how we had safely
reached Karaoul, the destination of the Biscaya, and
that, to our great disappointment, the ship which
ought to have been there to meet us was not at the
rendezvous. What could have happened to her ?
Naturally, the first idea that suggested itself was
that she had run aground and was unable to get off,
encumbered as she was with the heavy barges that
she was towing down from Yeniseisk to take back
our cargo in. It was manifestly out of the question
attempting to proceed any farther without a pilot,
so it was decided to wait where we were, in the hope
of the Phoenic turning up during the next day or two.


FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN TO THE YELLOW SEA. 37
In the evening we all went ashore to have a look
round, and were received on landing by quite a pack
of native dogs, which, however, only offered a mild
protest against an invasion by barking at us from a
distance. A limp-looking individual, dressed in the
usual Russian costume, with the inevitable top-boots,
strolled listlessly down towards the beach with his
hands in his pockets, and stared at us in an aimless
sort of fashion. The dismal loneliness of the sur-
roundings had evidently had their effect on him, and
he was incapable of arousing himself to anything
requiring a mental effort, for he did not evince the
slightest interest in our arrival, strange and unusual
though it certainly must have been to him in this
out-of-the-way sort of place. We found, however,
that he still retained the use of his tongue, and my
slight knowledge of German then proved very useful,
as it turned out he was not a Russian, but hailed
from the “Waterland.” He informed us that he was
the only white man in the place (which, by the way,
only contained as many inhabitants as there are
letters in its name), and usually spent the summer
months there looking after the Samoyede fishermen
who were working for the merchant who owned the
dilapidated wooden buildings. In the winter he was
employed as a butcher at Yeniseisk, and very glad he
was to get back again there, as he said he had a fear-
fully dull time of it here, with not a soul to speak to
except the Samoyedes, and very little work to do


38 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
even when fish was brought in to salt. One could
not help pitying a man who was so down on his luck
as to be obliged to bury himself alive so far from his
native land in order to earn his daily bread.
There was not much to see on the beach, so we
started for a walk over the hills, and had a very
pleasant ramble through country which reminded
one not a little of the Scottish Highlands. Every-
where we were knee-deep in luxuriant grasses and
moss, while all around flowers were growing in
wild profusion—it was almost like being in a huge
deserted garden. I noticed no end of old friends,
such as the wild thyme, campanella, and mountain
daisy. It was hard to realize that the ground is
eternally frost-bound a foot or so beneath the sur-
face, and that all this wonderful vegetation only
comes up during the few months when the ground
is not covered with snow; for during the greater
part of the year there is absolutely nothing to
relieve the white vista of the endless rolling plains,
which are then deserted by even the aborigines them-
selves. We came across a solitary Samoyede grave
on the hillside, the spot being marked by two sledges
standing ready packed as for a journey. The
Samoyedes thus leave their dead, and the custom is
almost touching in its simplicity. All the earthly
belongings of the deceased are placed on the sledges,
covered with a reindeer skin, and abandoned to the
mercy of the elements, with no other protection than


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 39
a rudely carved forked stick stuck in the ground
close by to frighten away evil spirits. They have
no fear of robbers, as they know that their own
people would not desecrate a grave, and to strangers
the few primitive articles on the sledges would not
offer much temptation; still, I must confess, it rather
The samoyedE's GRAVE.
made my mouth water to see such a lot of tempting
curiosities thus abandoned.
On our way back to the ship we had a look in at
the loghouse, and one look was almost enough for
most of us, as the heat inside was simply stifling;
for, although it was quite a warm summer evening,
all the windows appeared to be hermetically closed,
and the large stove was in full blaze. There was
nothing particularly striking about the interior,


40 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
which was but a poor Russian home. I could not
help remarking the extreme order in which the place
was kept; everything seemed to have its place, to
which it was scrupulously returned when moved.
We then paid a visit en passant to the Samoyede
A SAMOYEDE LADY.
hut, or tent, or whatever they call the bundle of
dirty rags that serves them for a sort of shelter.
Inside we saw an old man, two women, and four
or five half-naked children huddled together, in an
indescribable state of filth, round a few smoking


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 41
embers which were intended to represent a fire. The
stench was so great that it seemed more like looking
at a den of wild beasts than at human beings. The
river might have been ten miles away, instead of
only as many yards, for all the use they ever made
of it.
It had been decided that the next day our steam
launch should be sent on a voyage of discovery up
the unknown reaches of the mighty river, in search
of the missing Phoenic. The launch had already
been thoroughly overhauled, so without delay a
supply of provisions, sufficient to last at least three
months, was put on board of her, and three of our
party told off for the expedition. At eight o'clock
the next morning all was in readiness, and the little
launch, packed absolutely to the gunwale and towing
a boat full of coal for her engine, started on her
venturesome journey, her crew looking very uncom-
fortable in their cramped quarters: still, as it was a
lovely day, the sun shining brilliantly, it almost
made one envy them their trip, if they had such
weather all the time. There was just a slight mist
on the river, so they were not long getting out of
sight, blowing us a final good-bye with their steam
whistle, to which we replied by firing a volley with
our rifles. Our now reduced party then returned to
the cabin to finish breakfast, wondering how long we
were doomed to wait at Karaoul in glorious inac-
tivity.


42 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
At the end of the meal, as we were getting
up from table, we were startled by hearing the
launch's whistle blowing with great vigour close at
hand. We all rushed on deck, fearing some accident
had befallen her, when, to our astonishment, we saw
her returning at full speed, while close behind her,
towering above the mist and with all her colours
flying, was the ship she had gone in search of. We
were simply dumbfounded, as the situation was
almost too absurd ; for, had the mist only lifted, or
the launch been detained only a quarter of an hour,
we must have seen her before her pursuer could have
started, and thus saved ourselves a lot of trouble.
As may be imagined, the gallant crew of the launch
came in for a lot of good-humoured chaff, and we
were able to congratulate them on the successful
result of their mission and their safe return. In a
very short time the Phaenia was alongside, and we
then learnt that she had been delayed by the number
of barges she had had to tow—so much so, in fact,
that, in order to save time, it had been decided to
leave most of them some twenty miles behind, at a
convenient spot, and come on with only one, so as
to commence the transhipment without any more
unnecessary delay, and then return for the rest. No
time was lost, therefore ; and in less than an hour
after we had shaken hands with those on board the
steamer, our hatches were off, the steam winches
going merrily, and the cargo being rapidly taken


TO THE YELLOW SEA. - 43
out of the hold, under the supervision of a stately
Russian custom-house officer, who was attended by
two Cossacks.
The Phaenia, appeared to be crowded with men,
as compared with our small crew of twelve. I
learnt afterwards that no less than forty-five men
had been brought down from Yeniseisk to work the
barges and get in the cargo, and that among this
TRANSHIPMENT OF OUR CARGO TO THE “PhoeNix.”
big crowd there was a baker, a butcher, and a man
specially told off to attend to the live stock, of
which they had quite a farmyard, on one of the
barges. They evidently knew how to make them-
selves comfortable while they were about it. I
spent an hour in watching the men working at the
cargo, and could not help coming to the conclusion
that with a little less talk a good deal more work


44 FROM THE ARCTIO OCEAN
could have been accomplished in the time; there
seemed to be too many foremen, and all seemed to
differ in their orders at any critical moment, and so
helped to increase the confusion which was already
caused by the jabbering of the men. It was, how-
ever, a picturesque and interesting sight, this crowd
of rough, unkempt men, with their coloured blouses
and their loose trousers, tucked into high boots,
reminding one not a little of bold buccaneers in the
good old Adelphi dramas; and although, perhaps,
they did not put quite as much energy into their
movements as they might have done, they made up
for it in “effect,” from an artistic point of view—an
effect which was heightened by a quaint sort of
chorus they sang at intervals. They struck me as
being a much better-looking lot of men than an
average crowd of the same class in England, and
looked well fed and contented with their lot. A few
among them, I was informed, were exiles who have
served their time, but who prefer to continue living
in Siberia, where, from what I can gather, the
general opinion is that one is better off as an exile
than as a free man in Russia itself.
We had our first taste of Russian cooking that
morning, as we all lunched on board the Phaenix—
and a very good lunch it was, although it certainly
was very trying to have to eat without drinking, as
is the Russian custom, and I mentally decided to live
a la Française while in Holy Russia. At the end of


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 45
the meal a hissing samovar was brought in, tea was
brewed, and a decanter of vodka passed round, and we
all agreed that vodka makes a very good substitute
for whiskey, but that weak tea without milk, drunk
boiling hot out of tumblers, would take some getting
used to, as it evidently is an acquired taste, and wants
educating up to by a prolonged stay in Russia. The
cabin of the Phaenia, though small, was so clean and
cosy that it seemed quite a treat to have a decently
served meal after all the “pigging” we had had to
put up with on the Biscaya ; it made us almost wish
for the time to come when we should transfer our
quarters to her for the river journey. Everything
looked as prim as on a yacht, from the white paint
on the deck-house to the deck itself, which was kept
perfectly clean. I feel sure that were the Phaenia, to
return once more to her native port of Newcastle, her
old owners would not recognize, in the smart-looking
river boat, their quondam steamer, so thoroughly
has she been altered and Russianized. The next day
it was decided to go back to where the other barges
had been left by the Phaenia, so our anchors were
weighed, and both vessels started.
It took only a few hours to reach Kasanskoi, the
next “station,” which was destined to be our pied à
terre for some little time. The scenery on the way
up was tame, and varied but slightly from what I
have previously described; in fact, so flat and
uninteresting was it at times that one could see


46 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
rolling plains of green for miles and miles ahead
without even a bush to break their monotony. The
effect called “mirage” is very peculiar in these
regions. At times distant headlands appear to go
right away up into the sky, and one sees clouds
and river underneath them; sometimes great holes
appear, as it were, in the sides of the hills, and day-
light thus seen through them; even on the darkest
and greyest days these effects are noticeable. As the
time was now fully occupied in getting the Biscaya's
cargo safely transferred to the barges, and as during
these operations the Phaenia could be of no service
to us, it was arranged that she should proceed down
to the mouth of the river and wait for the other ship
and the tug, which were to have followed us out
from England, and, in the event of their turning up,
to pilot them back to where we were. So we were
to have Kasanskoi all to ourselves for a few days.
There being now little of interest to me in the well-
known ship, I decided to explore the neighbouring
hills, so would go ashore by myself in the early
morning with my gun and my sketch-book, and
wander about to my heart's content. There was
very little to shoot, and still less to sketch ; never-
theless it was very delightful, after being cooped up
for so many weeks, to find one's self once more alone
and free as the air on these boundless plains. The
bright sunshine, the familiar flowers, the birds
chirping merrily as they flitted from bush to bush—


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 47
in fact, the whole scene was the very antithesis of
what one would have expected to see on the bleak
tundras of Northern Siberia. It was almost with a
feeling of sadness that one reflected how changed all
would be in a few short weeks hence—for in these
high latitudes the seasons change without any
perceptible prelude. At a certain moment of each
year, generally about the end of May, the snow melts
away under the influence of the almost tropical heat
of the sun, which now ceases to set; the earth wakes
from her long sleep during the dark months of the
Arctic winter, luxuriant grasses spring up, the flowers
appear as if by magic, hundreds and thousands of
migratory birds arrive, the air resounds with the
buzzing of insect life;—it is summer. For about
three short months this wonderful transformation
lasts; then gradually the sun disappears, the long
nights return, the piercing north wind commences to
blow, and in a very short time—sometimes in a
single night—the ice-king resumes his sway, the
frost-bound earth disappears under a thick pall of
snow, and all is darkness and desolation in the awful
silence of the Arctic winter.


OUR CUSTOM-house officer.
CHAPTER W.
KASANSKOI.
Our Russian customs officer—A shooting-excursion—Visit to
the settlement of Kasanskoi—The house of a Siberian
trader—Interesting people—First experience of Russian
hospitality—The return of the Phoenix—Departure of the
Biscaya.
WE had the Russian custom-house officer quartered
on us during the absence of the Phoenix, and a very
nice unassuming fellow we all found him, although
we hardly understood a word he said. He was a
typical speciman of a Russian—a great big chap
with broad shoulders and long fair beard. I had


FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN TO THE YELLOW SEA. 49
heard he was an ardent sportsman, though he had
no gun with him on board; so one evening after
supper I thought he might like to come and have
some shooting with me. But how was I to make
him understand 2 for although I pointed to my guns,
he did not seem to comprehend. At last an idea
struck me. I got a piece of paper and drew a duck
on it, at the same time making a sign of shooting
with my gun. He guessed at once what it meant,
and agreed to join me. Unfortunately, however, I
had only one fowling-piece with me, and my Win-
chester was hardly the thing for wild duck, as he
seemed to wish to tell me; but, to his great amuse-
ment, I drew a bear on the paper, and so made an
excuse for taking the rifle also. As may be imagined,
we had no occasion to use it. For a wonder, in a
country like this teeming with birds, we only had
poor sport in return for a long and fatiguing walk
across miles of swampy ground.
After I had thoroughly explored the adjoining
country, one morning I got out a small steam-launch
belonging to the Phaenia, and, with a Russian who
spoke a little German as fireman and interpreter,
went down the river as far as the four or five log-
houses and huts which constituted the settlement of
Kasanskoi. As at Karaoul, the dogs gave us a
hearty welcome, though, fortunately, they were all
chained up this time, as they looked anything but
gentle creatures, and tried hard to get at us. The
E


50 From THE ARCTIc ocean
largest of the houses was really not a bad-looking
sort of place, certainly far better than one would
have expected to find. The proprietor came out
and politely invited us to enter. We accepted his
KASANSROI.
invitation, and, following him in, found ourselves in
a large kind of kitchen, in which several members of
the family were busily engaged in various household
duties. But for the quaint costume of the man, and
the fact that the women were smoking cigarettes,
TRADER's House AT KASANSKOI.
there was nothing particularly striking about the
place. I could not, however, help immediately
noticing how wonderfully clean it was: the walls
rivalled the boards of the floor in whiteness, the


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 51
table shone like a looking-glass, and everything
showed the handiwork of a careful housewife. The
MINE HOST AT KASANSE&OI.
stove was alight, and the heat was excessive, yet,
curiously, there was not the slightest feeling of ill
ventilation. Immediately on entering I noticed (as


52 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
my “Murray” told me I should in all Russian
dwellings) the inevitable sacred picture in a corner
of the room, and, in accordance with the advice he
gives, I immediately took off my hat, so as to be quite
en régle. The Russians, or rather the Northern
Siberians, are certainly a most phlegmatic race, if
they are all like the few I have already met. One
would have thought that in this remote place the
entrance of a stranger would have excited just the
least little show of interest—but no, they hardly
uttered a word; they just looked up for a second
from their work, and then resumed it without the
slightest comment, as if I had been an ordinary
everyday visitor from a neighbouring house. Since
they paid so little attention, I was equally cool, and
walked round about the room, looking at everything
as though I had been in a museum ; and then got
out my sketch-book, and, sitting down, started a
portrait of my host. He seemed to understand what
I wanted of him, and kept as rigid as a statue while
I was doing it.
Even when it was finished, no one evinced the
slightest curiosity to see the result. In any other
part of the world one would have been pestered by
people crowding round and all wanting to finger
one's sketch-book; but here, in this far-away Siberian
home, where, to say the least of it, sketching is not
an everyday sight, stolid indifference was stronger
than idle curiosity. I determined to take advantage


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 53
of it, and, since my being there did not seem to
disturb them a little bit, I got out the launch, and
returned there the next day
with my paint-box and , ^
largest sketching-block.
All the people I had seen
on the previous afternoon
were in the house, having
what evidently was their
morning meal. It was a
simple and homely sight,
this family gathering round
the brightly polished table,
with the glittering samovar
towering in the centre. It
struck me as being so in-
teresting that I got a couple
of chairs, one to sit on and
the other as an easel, and
commenced sketching in the
group as rapidly as pos-
sible. Fancy what would
have happened if such an
event occurred in an English
SWEET SEVENTEEN.
homestead! Imagine, for instance, a bearded Russian
walking coolly in while breakfast was going on and
the whole family present, and, without saying a
word, taking possession of part of the room and
commencing to paint the occupants without even


54 FROM THE ARCTIO OCEAN
asking permission In my case, however, all went
as merrily as a wedding-bell: no one interfered with
me, and they were so long discussing their weak tea
that, by the time they had finished, I had managed
to get a very fair idea of the mise en scène.
With the exception of an hour, when I went
down and had my lunch in the launch, I worked
there the whole day as comfortably as if I had
been in my own studio. In spite of their natural
indifference, the people, in their quiet sort of way,
evidently wished to help me, and to show me
some little politeness. I noticed that the children
were forbidden to talk loud or even to come any-
where near me, and any one who has had any
experience of sketching in strange places, where,
as a rule, the children worry one even more than
the flies, will understand what a boon that was ;
while, to cap my adventure with this unique family,
during the afternoon my host came up to me, hat
in hand, and, bowing very low, pointed to an adjoin-
ing room. Out of curiosity, I got up to see what
was there, when, to my astonishment, I saw the
samovar hissing away, and tea and cakes waiting
for me. This was hospitality indeed, and my only
regret was not being able to express my thanks in
Russian ; but I fancy they must have pretty well
guessed the meaning of the few bluff words I said
to that effect in English as I drank to the health
of my host's wife in boiling tea, and very nearly


'#g ºd øø， az 1**ivºtiv oxiaenoiſ， cihael : visiºnais Naehaehaeſion. Ni saiwoh v
|×
ſºſſae|-





TO THE YELLOW SEA. 55
scalded myself. The ice was broken, and they all
laughed very much, for fun is probably very much
the same all over the world. We now became quite
MATERFAMILIAs.
friendly, considering I did not understand a word
they said; and I made myself quite at home among
them till I had finished my picture. Before leaving
I presented my host with a pencil sketch of his


56 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
wife as a souvenir of my visit, and he evidently
prized it very much, for I fancy he intended fixing
it up over the religious picture in the corner.
The Phaenia returned in about ten days, and, to
our great satisfaction, was accompanied by the two
vessels she had gone in search of the Thule, a
small steamer of 400 tons, and the small tug she
had towed out from England. Never before had
such a flotilla been seen on the river Yenisei; the
only pity was that there was no one but ourselves
to see it. So far the expedition, with the exception
of a few unavoidable delays, had gone without a
hitch. It was quite a treat getting something in
the shape of news, such as it was, and all the papers
brought by the Thule were devoured as eagerly as
though they were of the previous day instead of
seven weeks old. The only thing now was to get
the cargoes transferred to the barges as quickly as
possible, for the season showed unmistakable signs
of being but a short one this year, and it was
imperative that the two ships should get out of the
Kara Sea on their way back to England before the
winter came on. As if to emphasize the admonition
the thermometer had given us, the lovely weather
suddenly broke up, and, to our great astonishment,
one morning we woke up to find a couple of inches
of snow on the ground, and everything already
looking very winterly, although it was only Sep-
tember 2. Every one, therefore, set to work with





'tº ºd ø， ou 1
'8:10 ſivri ºliiſ, no ſa No
No diriwaelwriwa kuwael 0.11，1,1）


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 57
almost feverish haste, so great a fear does the awful
Arctic winter inspire.
The scene during this work of transhipping our cargo
was one of surprising novelty. The barges intended
for the reception of cattle, pigs, and poultry were
temporarily turned into a sort of floating farmyard.
The Siberians evidently did not intend to forget
provision for the wants of the inner man during
their long voyage up the river. In stowing the
TEA-TIME AT THE MEN's QUARTERs on SHORE.
cargo, all had to work against time, for every hour
of summer in these regions is of the utmost impor-
tance. Here, too, was already present the inevitable
Russian official, personified by one of the most
charming men I ever met, with his two attendant
Cossacks, prompt to scrutinize each package of the


58 FROM THE ARCTIO OCEAN
Biscaya's cargo. Indeed, for this purpose they had
been expressly sent down some 1500 miles, on board
the river steamer Phoenix, to meet us; such is the
vigilance of the Czar's officials, even at this remote
distance from the central seat of government.
For us, meantime, who were spectators of the
operations, the days were so much like each other
that it was at times difficult to remember what day
of the week it was. It was too cold and wretched
to even think of going ashore, so there was nothing


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 59
for it but to while away the time as best we could,
and wait events. Every morning the question was
asked, “When shall we get out of this?” for we were
all getting heartily sick of our prolonged inactivity
—eight weeks since we left London, and still a
month of dreary river journey before us ere we
reach our destination, Yeniseisk. However, tout
vient d point à qui sait attendre, and at last came
the welcome news that the ships were at length
ready to start for England, and that we were to
transfer ourselves and luggage to the Phaenia in
readiness for the river journey. Still, there was a
mingled feeling of regret as we bid farewell to the
good ship Biscaya, which had carried us through
so many miles of strange waters, and, in spite of
cramped accommodation, had given us opportunities
for many hours of real pleasure and good fellowship.


60 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
CHAPTER WI.
THE RIVER VOYAGE OF THE PHOENIX UP TO YENISEISK.
The Yenisei river—Its noble proportions—Scenery along the
banks—The first tree—Our first mishap—The return of
the tug-An exciting incident.
A house-BOAT.
ON September
14 the ocean
steamers Bis-
caya and Thule
started on their
return voyage
to England, it
having been
arranged that
the tug should
pilot them
down to the
mouth of the
river, and then
rejoin us as
quickly as pos-
sible. It al-
most seemed like parting with an old friend, as we
got our last glimpse of the Biscaya; for, in spite





„'xi Naohi, will
*10 ºd vow, dz]
ſ'，


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 61
of her grimy decks and straitened quarters, we
had all of us, somehow, come to look upon her as
a sort of home; and when, after cheering ourselves
hoarse, the two ships at length disappeared behind
a distant headland, we realized that the connecting
link with the Old Country was severed, so to
speak, and the magnitude of the journey we had
before us seemed to magnify itself. As a matter of
fact, it is only now, on looking back over the six
long weary weeks during which we were slowly
making our way against the heavy stream, through
hundreds and hundreds of miles of uninteresting
scenery, and after quite a series of mishaps, that
we can fully realize what the journey was like. For
my own part, I should be sorry to undertake it
again. However, to continue my narrative.
The two ships once out of sight, no time was
lost, and preparations were immediately commenced
for our speedy departure. The barges had to be
properly stowed, a lot of spare timbers which had
been brought down had to be cut up for the
engines, and a host of minor details seen to before
starting on our long journey. Two days were thus
spent, and then at last, exactly a month after our
arrival in the river, we made a start with our heavy
load in tow. We made but slow progress, for the
stream was strong. Still, we could not help feeling
thankful at moving at all, after our long period of
inactivity.


62 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
Although we were now nearly three hundred
miles from the mouth of the river, there was no
perceptible difference in its enormous width, which
must nearly average ten miles for at least four
hundred miles from the sea, while in many places
it widens out into such enormous expanses of water
that it can only be likened to a continuous series of
huge lakes. As a matter of fact, between Golchika
and Karaoul, at a distance of two hundred miles from
the sea, there is one part where for nearly a hundred
miles it is over sixty miles in width, and when there
is a gale blowing, as was the case when we passed
up it, the sea is quite as heavy as it is during a
“sou'wester” in the English Channel, the flat cha-
racter of the “tundras” (as the vast treeless plains
in these regions are called) rendering the wind
exceptionally bleak. Such noble proportions are
thoroughly in keeping with the enormous length of
this majestic river, which, with its important tribu-
taries the Selenga and the Angara, is over five
thousand miles, and takes its rise in Chinese territory,
while, according to the French geographer Reclus, its
water-system covers an enormous area of nearly
2,900,000 square versts (equal to about 1,950,000
English square miles). The largest rivers in Europe
dwindle into absolute insignificance in comparison
with it, for the Volga, Danube, Rhone, and Rhine, if
added together, would barely make a Yenisei, while
the poor little Thames would be but as a small muddy


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 63
brook, even when compared with one of its least
important tributaries—the Kureika, for instance. Yet
on the whole of this vast highway, traversing as it
does such a diversified tract of continent, there are
only ten steamers, and these only kept going through
the enterprise of such Siberian magnates as Siberia-
koff, Gadaloff, Boudaresoff, and Kitmanoff. Siberia
is still in its infancy, so the future of its magnificent
resources cannot yet be gauged ; still, should they
eventually find a market in England through the
medium of the Yenisei and Kara sea-route, it will
be solely owing to British pluck and enterprise, as
personified in Captain Wiggins, to whom is un-
doubtedly due the honour of being the first to land
a British cargo in the heart of Siberia. Whether this
bold and adventurous enterprise be destined ever to
vie with that of the Hudson Bay traders, to which
it can aptly be compared, is scarcely my province to
discuss in a narrative which is purely descriptive;
still, one cannot help contemplating it with pride
that the old spirit which existed in our forefathers
still remains, and that, while this exists, England will
always retain her position as the pioneer of commercial
enterprise all the world over.
For the next few days after leaving our anchorage,
not only was the journey uninteresting as regards
events, but also from a picturesque point of view.
We were still beyond the northern limit of trees, and
the banks of the river, though perhaps presenting


64 FROM THE ARCTION OCEAN
some interest to the geological student, were certainly
not strikingly picturesque, and offered no artistic
attractions. This barren appearance, however, gra-
dually changed, low bushes appeared on the hillsides
and gradually increased in height, till at last, on
September 18, we sighted the first actual tree we had
seen since leaving Europe—a solitary and miserable
specimen of the larch species; yet it was a very
welcome sight, for it betokened our approaching
return to more temperate latitudes and brighter
scenes. But one must have been in the Arctic
regions to understand how eager one is to get out
of their dreary confines. In a very short time, trees
became more and more numerous on either bank—in
fact, it almost seemed as though we had crossed an
invisible line beyond which they could not grow, so
sudden was the change once past it. They were still
a species of larch, though so small that some one
remarked that they were not so “larch" (!) as in
England. We also saw in the distance several white
foxes along the banks; their being this colour is, as
is well known, a sure sign of approaching winter.
We shortly reached the small church-village of
Dudinskoi, the first station of any importance we
had yet come to. We arrived too late to go on
shore, much as we should have liked to ; for it
appeared, from all accounts, to be quite a flourishing
little place, boasting of a population consisting of a
couple of priests, a police officer, some exiles, and a


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 65
number of natives, as well as a rich merchant who
owns nearly all the place. However, we made up
our minds to have a look round the first thing in
the morning.
But “man proposes, God disposes.” During the
night our first mishap occurred. Without the slightest
warning a strong gale sprang up, and the Phania, had
a very narrow escape of being wrecked. The river
being certainly not less than six miles wide, there
was quite a heavy sea on ; our barges were pitched
and tossed about like so many corks, and in a very
short time became quite unmanageable, ending by
being driven right up alongside in dangerous prox-
imity to us. The confusion for a time was awful,
and a blinding snowstorm coming on added still
more to the excitement, as it was impossible to see
more than a few yards on either side. Steam, indeed,
was quickly got up, and it was immediately decided
to get up the anchors and attempt to run before the
gale up-stream. Before, however, we could get under
way, one of the smaller lighters was swamped, and
sank immediately. No one was on board of her at
the time, fortunately. After proceeding some fifteen
versts, we found a sheltered creek, and again
anchored.
The gale abated as quickly as it rose, and the next
day the weather was absolutely perfect. All that
day we were busy replenishing our wood-bunkers,

for although we had, to all appearances, an almost
F


66 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
inexhaustible supply a couple of days before, it seemed
to have positively melted away once the engines were
started. As is the custom all over Siberia, nothing
but wood is burnt, and this is easily understood
when one comes to consider how vast is the forest
region of Siberia, a region only comparable to the
backwoods of North America.
At the various small stations, and also here and
there along the banks of the river, are to be found
huge piles of wood, placed by the villagers, ready
cut, for the use of the steamers plying between
Yeniseisk and the mouth of the river. This wood
is for sale at an average price of one and a half
roubles (a little more than 3s. 8d.) per cubic fathom
—(N.B. the Russian fathom is seven feet, not six
feet as in England)—not dear, considering how much
time is saved by finding the wood all ready for use,
as we afterwards discovered when on one or two
occasions we ran short of fuel, and, there being no
“station" near, we actually had to burn all our
available spars and other spare timber, and eventually
had to send men ashore to cut down trees—a long
and tedious operation. The Phaenic burnt about
fifteen fathoms a day, as I afterwards learnt; so my
astonishment at the quick way the huge piles van-
ished down the bunker-holes is easily explained. I
hear that some of the other river steamers burn
as much as thirty fathoms in the twenty-four
hours.


i
-





TO THE YELLOW SEA. 67
Just as we were finishing loading wood the tug hove
in sight, much to our relief, as she was already over-
due, and fear had been expressed for her safety. She
was soon alongside, and we then learnt that she had
safely accomplished her mission of piloting the two
ships down to Golchika, but not, however, without
a few mishaps, for she had had a serious fire in her
bunkers, and on one occasion had been aground in a
nasty position for no less than nine hours. However,
“all's well that ends well,” and our party was now
complete again.
The next few days were uneventful. The weather
was bitterly cold, and snow occasionally fell, so the
surrounding landscape — if the dreary expanse of
monotonous banks could be so called — looked, if
anything, still more dreary. Then occurred the
second incident in the long series of mishaps which
followed us throughout the voyage.
We were busy loading wood one afternoon, when
suddenly the captain rushed on deck, and, in an
excited voice, called out that we had sprung a leak |
It may easily be imagined the effect this announce-
ment had on us—it came like a thunderbolt, so little
were we expecting anything unusual. On further
investigation it was found that the water was gaining
rapidly, so without losing a moment all the men were
instantly recalled to the ship and ordered to com-
mence clearing the hold, in order, if possible, to dis-
cover the damage and, if not too late, make it good.


68 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
The excitement was great, for, although we were only
about two miles from the shore, the situation was
extremely grave, from what we could learn from
those who had been down to see. Most of us, there-
fore, got our papers and valuables in readiness in
case of emergency. In the mean time the pumps
were going, and steam got ready, so that, in the
event of its being necessary, the ship could be run
ashore at a moment's notice. For some hours no
visible headway was made against the enemy, till
towards nine o'clock, after several hours of hard and
persistent work in icy-cold water, the men were
relieved, as it was discovered the water was abating.
It afterwards transpired that, from some unexplained
cause, a plate had been started, and the “list” given
to the ship by the loading of the wood on one side
only had caused the inrush of water. One of the
engineers was fortunately soon able to patch it up
and obviate any further danger. The prospect of
having, perhaps, to abandon our comfortable quarters
was not enticing while it lasted, and it certainly was
with a great sense of relief that we got under way
once more, and then sat down to an extra late dinner,
with a bottle of champagne to commemorate our
escape.
For the next twenty-four hours we fortunately
were able to proceed without any special incident.
The weather still continued very cold and wintry,
and much snow fell. The few scattered trees on


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 69
the banks now grew more closely together, till at
length we reached a dense forest, which we never
afterwards entirely lost sight of. Right away south-
ward, with scarcely a break, I learnt, it stretches to the
far-distant Chinese frontier, some five thousand miles,
while to east it is bounded by the river Lena, which
thus gives it an approximate breadth of two thousand
miles—probably the largest tract of forest-land in
the world, and, as I have previously remarked, only
comparable to the backwoods of America. Very
depressing was the effect of this continuous wall of
trees, in all the various stages of growth and decay—
in some parts the predominance of firs giving it
almost the appearance of a huge plantation of tele-
graph-poles. The chief trees appeared to be pine,
white birch, lime, and mountain ash.


70 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
CHAPTER VII.
THE RIVER voyage—continued.
An awful fatality—Misfortune follows misfortune—M. Sotni-
koff—Sellivanaka, the settlement of the Skopti—A visit
from the village “elder.”
O U R
respite
from mis-
for tune
was des-
tined, un-
fortunate-
ly, to be but very brief, for
on September 23 occurred an
awful fatality by which we DIFFICULT NAVIGATION.
lost the commander of the Phaenic—Mr. George Lee,
agent in Siberia of the Anglo-Siberian Syndicate. The
circumstances of the tragic event in those far-away
wilds were so impressive in their horror that they


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 71
are as fresh in my memory as if it had happened
only yesterday.
We had been moving slowly but surely, all day,
against a strong head-wind; in the evening, after
dinner, we were all seated in the cabin, smoking,
and otherwise passing the time in our usual pleasant
after-dinner fashion, when suddenly we heard a
man who was taking soundings at the bows call
out a quick change in the depth of water. Mr. Lee,
who was reading a book, immediately jumped up,
and, putting on his fur coat and cap, hastily went
out, exclaiming as he did so that he “smelt some-
thing wrong.” He had only been gone a few minutes,
when we heard loud cries from the deck, the engine
stopped, and almost immediately the captain rushed
into the cabin in a frantic state. With some difficulty
we gathered from his gestures that Mr. Lee had fallen
overboard. In less time than it takes to write it we
were all outside and on the upper deck. The excite-
ment was indescribable. It was a pitch-dark night,
and snowing hard; on all sides were men hurrying
with lanterns, while the captain, through his speaking-
trumpet, bawled out directions to the men in tug and
barges behind us. For a few minutes, which seemed
ages, we were peering into the intense darkness
astern in the hope of seeing something which would
guide us to the whereabouts of the unfortunate man,
but in vain; when, all of a sudden, we heard shouts
from the tug that they had picked him up. Our joy


72 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
was great, but destined, unfortunately, to be of short
duration. After some little delay, but really in
wonderfully quick time considering, the tug was
observed coming towards us, and soon was alongside.
On its deck was a confused group of men, standing
in awed silence, and looking strangely weird through
the driving snow and under the flickering light of
a lantern. In their midst, in a blanket which they
were holding by the four corners, was something
dripping wet, human in form. With little difficulty
it was got on board the Phoenix, and then we saw
it was the lifeless form of our ill-fated friend, who so
few minutes before had been with us in the best
of health and spirits, little dreaming his end was
so near. It was a solemn sight, and brought before
us with a power seldom realized that thrilling
sentence, “In the midst of life we are in death.”
Although we persevered for no less than four hours
with Dr. Sylvester's method, and tried every other
known restorative, all was in vain—the unfortunate
man never for one moment showed the least sign
of life; so at last we were reluctantly forced to come
to the conclusion that our efforts were futile.
We afterwards learnt how the accident had happened
from the only man who had witnessed it. Mr. Lee,
in his excitement to learn the depth of the water
as shown by the sounding-pole, had stood on a log
of timber covered with snow which was lying under
the bulwarks, and, leaning over too far, his foot


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 73
slipped on the treacherous surface, and he went over-
board head first, so suddenly that he had not time
to utter a cry. Considering how rapid the stream
was, and the darkness of the night, the fact of his
body being picked up at all was nothing short of
miraculous, for we were going full speed at the
time. Only a few days before, he had been telling
us he could swim like a duck, and that evening
during dinner had been relating some wonderful
escapes from death he had had during his life. We
had learnt that his heart was weak, so there can be
very little doubt that the shock of the sudden immer-
sion in the icy-cold water had had an instantaneously
fatal effect, for his features showed no signs of any
death-struggle, but were as calm as in sleep. A long
consultation then took place, with the result that the
London agent of the Syndicate took command of the
ship, and she was again started ahead.
This awful event naturally cast a gloom over us all
—although, as if in mockery of worldly griefs, the sun
shone out brilliantly the next morning for the first time
since we had left; in fact, it was like spring again.
It was hard to realize that for the remainder of our
voyage the Phoenix, so to speak, would be a floating
hearse. No end of ghastly formalities had to be gone
through, such as sealing up the dead man's effects,
having a coffin made by one of the ship's carpenters,
and a heap of other details, the custom-house officer
now proving himself a really good fellow, and helping


74 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
us as much as he could ; in fact, I don't know what
we should have done without him, speaking so little
Russian as we all did. We learnt from him that we
should have to stop at Turuchansk, the first important
village we came to, and get permission from the police
officer there to take the body on to Yeniseisk, and, as
there was certain to be an inquest, we must make
up our minds to some unavoidable delay. The only
thing to be done, therefore, was to get on as quickly
as possible, for we had no time to lose, with winter
so close at hand.
But our misfortunes were not yet at an end. A
day or so afterwards, owing to the strong current
keeping us back, we ran short of wood when we were
still some distance from the next station; so, in order
not to let the fires out, it was decided (contrary to
our usual custom, as we always anchored at dusk)
to proceed all night. It was a nasty wet night, with
a thick mist over everything, so our progress was
very uncertain. All went well till about three
o'clock, when suddenly, without the slightest warn-
ing, the water shallowed, and, with a nasty grinding
sound which I shall long remember, the Phaenia ran
aground. It was too dark and foggy at the time
to make out where we were, but we evidently were
stuck hard and fast, as was supposed, on a bank in
the middle of the river. All efforts to back her were
unsuccessful. The fog lifted shortly after, and it was
then discovered that we had run clean ashore—so


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 75
close, in fact, that one could almost have walked off
the ship on to the grass. For several precious hours
every possible device was tried in vain, and at one
time things looked decidedly ugly, as we were on
a rocky bottom. Our little tug, however, proved
invaluable, for she at length succeeded in moving
our bows, and then, to our great relief, we slid off
into deep water, not without damage, unfortunately,
for it was afterwards discovered that we had broken
a blade of the propeller; still, we managed to get
along somehow, in spite of it. It was high time, for
we were at the very end of our supply of wood, and
it was only by burning everything available, even to
the hatches and some spare packing-cases we luckily
had on board, that we could reach the next station,
where we found wood in abundance.
We anchored opposite quite a “swagger" house,
far and away the best we had hitherto seen in
Siberia. It was two stories high, had carved
window-frames, a bright-green roof, and other at-
tempts at artistic decoration which one would hardly
have expected to find so far away in Northern Asia.
The owner of the place, we learnt, was a rich retired
merchant named Sotnikoff, who had amassed a large
fortune by mining and extensive trading operations.
Vegetating in this dead-alive spot struck me as being
a very unambitious ending to a long and successful
life—however, chacun d son goût. We went ashore
and paid Mr. Sotnikoff a visit, and were received


76 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
with the usual hospitality of Russian people—I mean
a regular sort of meal they put before one, generally
consisting of delicious caviare and black bread, fish-
pies, cakes, eggs, etc., washed down with copious
draughts of vodka, and followed by the inevitable
samovar. The house was furnished quite in a
luxurious fashion, and the large room we were shown
into boasted a really pretty suite of furniture, and had
pictures on the walls. Mr. Sotnikoff, however, in
spite of his great reputed wealth, was dressed in the
ordinary costume of a Russian peasant, and with his
long white beard presented quite a patriarchal ap-
pearance. He returned our visit later in the day,
and strongly urged us not even to attempt to reach
Yeniseisk with all our barges so late in the season,
winter being so close at hand that the river might
be frozen over at any moment, in which case we
risked losing all our flotilla, if it caught us in any
unprotected spot. Our best plan, he told us, would
be to leave one of our least important barges in his
charge till next spring, and proceed with the re-
mainder without losing a moment, if possible. This
advice so corroborated what we had already learnt
that, as a result of a long and serious consultation,
one of the barges was detached and left with him
till the spring. We then again started, hoping that,
with our diminished load, we should make better
progress.
The next few days were uneventful; the banks,


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 77
with their fringe of dense forest, still continuing in
dreary and endless monotony, while overhead flocks
of migratory birds were continually passing us on
their way south, sure and ominous sign of approach-
ing winter. We could not help being surprised by
the number of seagulls we still saw about; in fact,
their name seemed almost a misnomer, so many
hundreds of miles were we from the sea.
The curious huts of the Samoyede natives along
the shores now gradually disappeared, and in their
stead appeared other huts somewhat similar in form,
only covered with strips of birch bark instead of
skins, and inhabited by Ostiaks, a race of people not
unlike the Samoyedes, but, from what I hear, cer-
tainly much more civilized—though that is not
saying much, for they could not very easily be
less so.
On September 30 we passed Selivanaka, a pic-
turesque and flourishing little settlement, which is
entirely inhabited by a portion of the secret sect
called “Skopti,” or “White Doves,” who are per-
petually banished from Russia on account of their
peculiar doctrines. I had already read much about
these curious people, and was hoping that we should
stop here for wood, so that I should be able to go
ashore and have a look round; but we were not in
need of fuel, and our time was too precious to allow
of any needless delays, so I had to content myself
with as good a look at the settlement and its in-


78 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
habitants as I could get through my lifegular, for,
although a boat containtagshree men rowed off to
us, we did not stop. However, we had plenty of
opportunity later on for a closer inspection of these
Inen.
It happened this way: The boat returned to
the shore, and Selivanaka was fast disappearing
behind us, when we observed another boat rapidly
catching us up, coming along close to the shore. In
a very short time it was abreast of us, and we then
saw it was drawn by three dogs, and contained the
same men we had previously seen. They stopped
when a little ahead of us, and, taking their dogs on
board, rowed off to us and asked if we would allow
them to tow behind us as far as Turuchansk, some
few versts farther on. The desired permission being
given to them, they shortly after came up on deck,
and we therefore had plenty of time to examine more
closely these specimens of one of the most curious
sects in the world. I was lucky enough to get one
of them, who turned out to be the “village elder,”
to let me make a careful sketch of him, as he had a
face full of character; during which time I managed,
through an interpreter, to obtain some interesting
particulars of these “peculiar people.” They are
all eunuchs, marriage being forbidden among them.
The Holy Virgin and the Christ they worship are
appointed by their elders, and it is said they con-
sider Peter III. as their god, imagining him to be


'81 ºd øøv/ ou J“yyiynwai'iºns
|-
-
-





TO THE YELLOW SEA. 79
still living. They are also strict vegetarians and
total abstainers, from which facts one gathers that,
taking one consideration with another, a Skopti's
life is not a happy one.
Afterwards I had a look at their boat, which was
towing behind, and I could not help noticing the
ready way in which their dogs made themselves
comfortable during their masters' absence. The
only harness they wear is a sort of band round
the loins, which is connected with the boat by
means of a long cord. Three is the number generally
used, and wonderful are the distances which, I am
told, they are able to accomplish—forty and even
fifty versts at a stretch, and against the stream. No
whip is ever used, their master's voice being quite
sufficient to urge them on, for if one of them flags
the others snap at him and make him keep up the
pace.


THE PRINCIPAL THOROUGHFARE, TURUCHANSK.
CHAPTER VIII.
TURUCHANSK.
Visit to the monastery—Werchneimbackskoi—Our first visit
from official Russia—The police officer of the district—
The village priest.
DURING this time we were steadily advancing, and
in the afternoon we came in sight of the beautiful
monastery of Turuchansk, standing up above the
trees like a big white lighthouse, its silvered dome
glistening in the brilliant sunshine. It was our first
real glimpse of Holy Russia, and a welcome sight
after our long and wearisome journey. The river
still retained its noble proportions, but was so full of


FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN TO THE YELLOW SEA. 81
sandbanks that we had to make a big détour before
we could approach the shore. The beach, for it was
nothing less, was covered with boats and quite a
crowd of people, for our arrival was doubtless an

event in this quiet place.
As it was uncertain how long we should be stay-
ing, we lost no time in getting ashore and making
for the monastery. Its beautiful architecture offered
a curious and striking contrast to the squalid wooden
huts clustered round it, and in its quiet precincts
we felt an indefinable sense of repose, which was very
pleasant after the continual noise on board the
Phoenic. We had no difficulty whatever in being
shown over the interior of the building, which, I
must confess, was somewhat disappointing, and did
not equal the outside effect. As is usual in the
Greek Church, sacred pictures constituted the chief
feature, and, with their gaudy metal appendages,
offered a great contrast to the bare whitewashed
walls. As none of us understood Russian, all the
interesting details given us by our guide (a monk,
by the way, of most “unmonkish" appearance)
were lost to us. Still, we were much interested in
a very heavy sort of iron jacket and cross, which,
we understood him to say, had been continually
worn by some former ultra-religious inhabitant of
the place. For what purpose he had thus afflicted
himself we could not make out, but let us hope
it did him a lot of good and brought him to an
G


S2 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
early grave, as was doubtless his wish when first
donning it. -
The few monks live in a wooden building just
behind the church, and share their quarters with
the police officer of the district—an arrangement, I
hear, not at all to their taste; still, they have to grin
and bear it, as evidenced by the sentry-box which
stood at the very door of the sacred edifice, and in
which a Cossack is stationed when any Government
money is in the district, for it is always kept for
safety in the monastery itself. Our guide, the monk,
had very comfortable quarters, and certainly far more
luxurious than one would have expected for a man
of his austere life. Here again Russian hospitality
asserted itself. It is certainly a wonderful trait in the
national character; I have never seen it equalled in
any other country. Our genial host insisted on our
breaking bread with him, and produced some delicious
caviare and other eatables, which looked so appetizing
we could not refuse. -
On our return to the ship we learnt that the
police officer of the district had gone on to the
next village, some three hundred versts further up.
As by this time the men had finished loading the
wood, steam was got up, and soon we were once
again moving onward, and, ere the moon had risen,
peaceful Turuchansk, with its quaint monastery,
was far behind us. In spite of all the adverse
prophecies, the weather not only continued fine, but,





'88 ºd øov， az 1* W 188 n'hi "1v101，10 woului „L'ISLA. „Lºuisì uno





i


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 83
during the next few days, became absolutely warm
again. We made capital progress, as we had the
wind in our favour, and reached the village of
Werchneimbackskoi even sooner than we had expected.
Our arrival was hailed by a salute fired from a
small cannon on the hillside, and the villagers
crowded forth to have a look at us. It was a
picturesque spot, and looked doubly so in the warm
sunshine, the Oriental-looking little church, with its
INTEREsted observers.
white walls and green cupolas, standing out in
brilliant relief against the blue sky. In a short time
the police officer arrived, accompanied by his clerk
and a couple of Cossacks, and we thus received our
first visit from official Russia. The Russians, physi-
cally, are undoubtedly a fine set of men; nearly all I
have seen so far have been above the average height.
This officer topped them all, for he must have stood
at least six feet four inches, and, with his tall
astrachan kepi and long fur coat, seemed a huge


84 FROM THE ARCTIO OCEAN
fellow, a very good-looking one to boot. Our pass-
ports had to be examined here, and a sort of inquest
held on the body of poor Lee. As the proceedings
had no interest for me, not understanding Russian,
I went ashore and had a stroll through the village.
It certainly was a great improvement on any of the
others we had yet come to: the houses even had
some pretence to architecture, and looked very pretty
with their quaint wooden porticoes. Dogs, as usual,
seemed more numerous than inhabitants; and, had
it not been that I knew how peaceful they are, except
among themselves, it would have required some nerve
to pass through them, for the row they made was
simply awful.
In the evening the police officer dined with us on
board the Phoenic, and a very pleasant fellow he
seemed. He told us that his jurisdiction extended
over an enormous extent of country, which, on con-
sulting the map, we found to be no less than
five times the size of Great Britain, extending right
away to the Arctic Ocean—an awful and desolate
tract, which he was obliged to visit twice a year.
During the winter, he said, the cold was so intense
that at times he had experienced as much as 45
deg of frost (Réaumur) We could not help.
telling him that he looked remarkably well, in spite
of all these hardships.
The next morning a messenger came to the ship
expressly to ask if I would go ashore and take a


ae*…*..*
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--~~~~♥~
NN
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THE RUSSIAN POLICE OFFICER.
[To face p. 84.





TO THE YELLOW SEA. 85
sketch of the village priest and his family. This
was rather a compliment, so I could hardly refuse,
The village Priest.
more especially as a few minutes later the worthy
man himself arrived to show me the way. (Could
it be possible, I thought, that they took in the


86 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
Illustrated London News in this far-away Siberian
village, and had heard I was on board 2) The
priest was a person of remarkable appearance—
tall, slim, and exceedingly good-looking, in an
effeminate sort of way—with a long fair beard and
flowing locks, quite a biblical-looking personage, so
I immediately spotted him as a good subject for
a sketch. We went up to his house, and I was pre-
sented to Madame, who was most commonplace-look-
ing, and his children, who were still more so. For-
tunately I had brought my camera with me, so to
please him I took them all in a group, and shuddered
to think how it would look when developed. I then
asked the gentleman if I might make a separate study
of him ; and he not only said he would be very
pleased to let me, but even offered to come on board
to sit for me. So, during the morning, I made a
careful pencil study of him. While doing it, to my
astonishment the police officer, who had come to have
a look at what I was doing, asked me if I would like
to do him afterwards. This made it late in the
evening before we got away. We, however, had an
extra large amount of wood in the bunkers, so hoped
to make up for lost time.
Nothing of importance occurred till a couple of
days later, when there was a slight outbreak of fire
on board, which, fortunately, we were soon able to
extinguish, or it might have developed into a serious
affair. As it was, it detained us some hours. It


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 87
was caused by some dry wood on the upper deck
igniting through being too close to the base of the
funnel (the upper deck being a Siberian addition
to the Phaenia). We were now nearing the famous
Kamin Pass, which, with the rapids close to it, is
the crux of the river navigation. It was all along
considered doubtful whether the Phaenia would be
able to get her four barges up at one time, or
would have to make several journeys; no such load
had ever been brought up the rapids before.


A WILLAGE BOAT.
CHAPTER IX.
THE KAMIN RAPIDS.
A whole chapter of accidents—First touch of winter—Arrival
at Yeniseisk.
WE reached the entrance to the Kamin Pass on
October 10, and all of us got up at six in the
morning so as not to miss any of it. I was very dis-
appointed, for, though the finest sight we had yet seen
on the river, the scenery was not nearly so imposing
as I had been led to expect. Still, I suppose it is
very grand for Siberia, which does not abound in big
effects. For about half a mile, high but unpictu-
resque rocks rose precipitously from the swirling


FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN TO THE YELLOW SEA. 89
waters, their summits covered with dense forests of
rigid pine trees, which in themselves took away from
the effect, so regularly did they grow. One of our
a River Pilot.
party said it reminded him of the Hudson River.
With the utmost difficulty the Phaenia managed to
hold her own against the tremendous current, and,


90 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
with the engines going at their utmost pressure,
after eight hours' steaming got past the worst of the
rapids, with all her barges in tow—an unprecedented
feat in Yenisei navigation—and this notwithstanding
her damaged propeller.
In the mean time the little tug was having a
mauvais quart d'heure—for, with her heavy barge,
the stream proved too much for her powers; it
was very different work to towing on the Thames—
and, as ill-luck would have it, eventually ended by
her being driven ashore some distance away from us,
and in such shallow water that we could not get
near enough to render her any assistance with the
Phaenia. For two whole days all our available men
were working at her before they were successful
in getting her off. It was dreary work hanging
about the deserted ship during this time, for all
the boats were being used, so we could not get
ashore, although an adventurous member of our
party tried to fix up a raft, but was not successful
beyond giving us a couple of hours' hard work in
hauling the confounded logs on board again after
his fruitless attempt. However, at last we got under
way again, and arrived at the village of Worogoro,
where we had to stop for wood.
The village itself offered little of interest, but I
had heard that a wealthy Tartar lived there, so was
looking forward to seeing something quite startling
and Asiatic in appearance, and had my sketch-book


'081000×10 M. Ly. ISISSiNºix （1：1A1 ſi afir,


==：：=≡• • • •


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 91
ready. Imagine my disappointment when there
came on board what looked more like a middle-
aged English butcher than anything else, even to
wearing the usual sort of blue coat. There was
absolutely nothing of the “Tartar” about him; he
looked, on the contrary, a very mild and inoffensive
sort of individual, very unlike what one used to
conjure up in one's mind in the good old schoolboy
days. Close to the village we saw the first cultivated
ground we had seen since leaving Norway, in July.
The next morning an accident happened as they
were getting up anchor, and caused tremendous
excitement. By some means the anchor dragged,
and the ship, swinging round with the swift stream,
caused the chain to slip from the capstan, and it ran
out with such tremendous velocity that the capstan
was absolutely smashed to pieces. For a moment
all the men around were panic-stricken, and although,
to my mind, there was absolutely no danger, as we
were quite close to the shore, I saw the captain and
the custom-house officer devoutly crossing themselves
and muttering prayers. Luckily, it all ended well,
for we managed to recover the anchor and chain by
means of the derrick, and the capstan was soon
replaced by the carpenter, and we now began to
congratulate ourselves that at last we should get
fairly under way once more.
But we were destined to undergo many more
vexatious mishaps before we reached our journey's


92 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
end. The tug, which all along had been unable to
keep up with us, and had proved itself our “old man
of the sea,” not having turned up when we anchored
the previous night, and there being no signs of her,
a boatful of wood in charge of three men was sent
back in case she had run short of fuel. To our
great annoyance, she did not turn up in the morn-
ing. Hour after hour passed by, and at last it was
decided to leave the barges and run back to see
what had happened. It was certainly most pro-
voking, but the only thing to do. So back we
went at a tremendous pace with the stream, and
about ten miles off we came up with the laggard—
anchored, as her fuel had run out. To our great
astonishment we learnt that they had seen nothing
of the boat with the wood we had sent them ; it
must, then, have passed them during the night, and
they informed us their anchor light had gone out
at one moment. So here was another delay, as we
had now to go in search of this boat. Off we started,
and another seven miles or so farther down we at
last sighted it—much to our relief, for we were
almost beginning to fear something had happened.
The men, as ill-luck would have it, had evidently
managed to pass the tug during the night at the
exact moment when its lantern went out. The day
was nearly gone by the time we got back to the
barges again. Still, as there was a moon rising, it
was decided to proceed without further delay.


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 93
The stream during the next few days was so swift
that, with our broken propeller, we barely did two
versts an hour; it was little better than standing
still, and the vibration all over the ship was so great
that it was impossible to read with comfort, still less
to attempt to sketch or write. However, we were
thankful to be making any headway at all, and to
be able to pass a short time without any more
mishaps. But our respite was not for long. We
managed to run short of wood at some distance
from the next “station,” and, as we had on a
previous similar occasion burnt up all our available
spare timber, we had to stop and send the men
ashore to cut down some trees. The water was so
deep that, although the Phaenia was drawing eight
feet, she was able to go so close in to the shore that
we could put out a plank from her deck and walk
off on to terra firma. Two of us took advantage of
the opportunity to stretch our legs, and, taking our
rifles, started on a ramble. The forest grew right
down to the river's bank, and was almost impene-
trable; dense underwood and huge fallen trees
barred one's passage at every step, as though to warn
one from endeavouring to penetrate too far into its
gloomy recesses, while through the gaunt fir trees
the rushing wind seemed to moan and sob as though
at the approach of winter. It was a dreary, uncanny
sort of place, and thoroughly realized my idea of the
wilds of Siberia—so much so, in fact, that I felt


94 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
glad to get out of its mysterious twilight into the
broad daylight again.
Our custom-house officer and the first engineer
the next morning took their guns and started off
in search of game; they arranged to be back in a
couple of hours, in readiness for our departure, but
when we were ready to start they had not reappeared.
Two hours more passed, and still no signs of them.
We began to get anxious, and kept the steam-whistle
going incessantly, in case they did not know the
time. When at last they were quite four hours late,
we could come to no other conclusion but that they
had lost themselves, or that something had happened,
so we immediately organized search-parties, and in
a few minutes a dozen of us, fully armed, started off
in different directions into the forest. It was a
difficult task we had before us, and not unlike the
proverbial “looking for a needle in a bundle of hay,”
as no one had the slightest idea which way the two
men had taken. It was arranged that, as soon as
they were found (for we seemed to have no doubt
about it), the steam-whistle should be sounded four
times as a signal to the other parties to return to
the ship. Our satisfaction may easily be imagined
when, half an hour or so afterwards, we heard the
welcome sound which announced that what might
have been yet another serious affair had come to a
safe conclusion.
On getting back, we saw the two men in a state


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 95
º-
of utter exhaustion; in fact, if one of the party
who had found them had not had the forethought
to take his flask of brandy with him, they would
.never have been able to get back without being
carried, as they were dead-beat, having had nothing
to eat that morning. They told us that they had
come across a bear's trail, and, in their excitement
following it lost their way, and although they
could hear the steam-whistle in the distance they
could not localize the sound, and were actually
going away rather than to it, as it appeared. They
said they were on the point of giving in when they
were found, for night was coming on, and they were
famished with hunger and cold. We quite believed
them, for they presented a pitiable appearance. They
only had three damp matches and a few cartridges
left, and had not even a compass to guide them.
This bear-hunting experience will, therefore, probably
teach them a lifelong lesson—not to venture into a
dense and almost impassable forest without a compass
and taking one's bearings on it beforehand. How-
ever, fortunately, as it happened, it was a case of
“all's well that ends well,” although another day
had been lost.
We were now getting well within touch of our
destination, and on arrival at the village of Nasy-
movo, some eighty miles from Yeniseisk, sent a
messenger on ahead with letters and telegrams with
reference to Mr. Lee's death. He was a veritable


96 FROM THE ARCTIO OCEAN TO THE YELLOW SEA.
messenger of death, and we felt what an awful shock
it would be for his family. Still, it was better they
should know of it before we arrived. This village,
the last of importance we should stop at, was quite
a big place, the principal street certainly being nearly
a mile in length. There were several really good
shops, in one of which, among a host of miscellaneous
articles displayed, was a package of “Brook's Crochet
Cotton.” It was quite refreshing to see the English
label.
That evening we had our first touch of real
cold, the thermometer going down to 20° Fahr.—
quite a respectable commencement, although none
of our Russians seemed to think much of it. We
now proceeded more rapidly, as the current was less
swift, and we were looking forward to the speedy
termination of the most tedious journey any of us
had ever made. We began to count the hours which
now separated us from civilization, for the little town
which we were now approaching seemed a sort of
El Dorado after our cramped shipboard quarters.
No further incident occurred, and at eight o'clock in
the evening of Saturday, October 25, we anchored
off Yeniseisk, the goal which we had so long been
striving to reach, and which we had reached, in spite
of all adverse prophecies, thus accomplishing the feat
of landing an important cargo of British goods in the
very heart of Siberia.


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NIAA sihu, ĐN 1810 LS


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Y existisk.
CHAPTER X.
THE CITY OF YENISEISK.
Custom-house officials—Novel sights in market-place and streets
—My lodgings—Siberian idea of “board and lodging”—
Society in Yeniseisk—A gentleman criminal exile.
VERY few Englishmen have any real knowledge of
Siberia. To most of them its name raises a dismal
vision of ice-bound wastes and wretched exiles
passing their lives in hopeless and cheerless misery.
Little do they know that, far away in the very heart
of Asia, there exists civilization equal to what is to
be found in any part of Europe. But this is actually
the case, and when, sitting after dinner smoking a
cigarette, in a luxuriously furnished and delightfully
H


98 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
warm apartment, surrounded by rare tropical plants
and with appointments not to be excelled in Paris,
it was hard to realize how far one was from Europe,
or that outside the cold was 28 deg. below zero
(Réaumur), and that it was so short a distance from
the wild uninhabited regions that had to be tra-
versed before reaching this far-away Siberian city.
I shall never forget my impressions when, after the
fourteen long dreary weeks passed in the Arctic
Ocean and in river navigation, we at last anchored
off Yeniseisk. It was towards eight o'clock, a cold
wintry evening, though October was not yet passed.
The moon was just rising, and in the still evening
air the effect was almost that of a huge panorama :
against the southern sky the many churches and
the strange-looking wooden buildings of the Asiatic
city stood out in sharply defined silhouettes, relieved
here and there by the lights in the windows of the
houses facing the river, while along the banks we
could just discern, in the increasing twilight, dark
masses of people hurrying down to greet us on
hearing the sound of our steam-whistle, which was
being vigorously blown to announce our arrival.
The church bells began ringing as we let go our
anchors, and immediately all the Russians who were
crowded on the upper deck, from the captain down-
wards, uncovered their heads, and, bowing devoutly,
crossed themselves again and again as they murmured
a prayer of thanksgiving for their safe return.


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 99
It was a strange and weird sight, and made me
involuntarily rub my eyes, to ascertain if I were
really awake, and all this not a dream—the long and
wearisome journey at length at an end—the goal
attained. There was, however, little opportunity for
soliloquizing, for within a very short space of time
after the stoppage of our engines we were boarded
and taken possession of by the inevitable custom-
house officers and their assistants, and the voyage of
the Phaenia, successfully accomplished, was a thing
of the past. Much as we all naturally desired
immediately to go on shore, we could not do so, for
we were courteously though firmly informed that
until our baggage had been examined none of us
could leave the ship.
The next day was Sunday, and we were all
awakened early by the sound of many church bells
—not the familiar notes one knows so well in the
old country, but a curious sort of jangle, without
any attempt at harmony, in a low key, which
reminded one of the noise produced by a child
strumming with two fingers on the bass of a piano
very much out of tune. Sleep after this was impos-
sible, and we were all of us soon on deck, anxious
to get a glimpse of Yeniseisk by daylight. The
effect, though of course not so strange as when
seen by moonlight, was undoubtedly imposing, and
seen from the Yenisei the city certainly presents a
grand appearance. No less than three fine churche: ; ...


100 FROM THE ARCTION OCEAN
stand in close proximity to each other facing the
river, each one vying with the others in architectural
pretensions, while all along the road facing the water
are houses, or, rather, large villas, which remind one
much of the South of France, except that they are
of stucco instead of marble. Snow had fallen during
the night, and, though the temperature was not cold,
the aspect in the bright morning sunshine was
decidedly wintry in effect. Shortly after breakfast
the custom-house people (our old friend Bouldakoff
included) started examining our baggage. From
what I had always heard about Russian officials, I
quite expected to have a mauvais quart d'heure,
considering my large store of ammunition and my
big cases of tinned provisions for my long land
journey. To my astonishment, however, I was
treated with a politeness and a courtesy which, in
all my varied experience of this most irksome branch
of Government officialism, has never been equalled.
I could not help mentally contrasting it with what I
have often experienced at Charing Cross, Newhaven,
or Paris. In a very short time, my numerous bags,
valises, and cases were disposed of, and I was free to
land whenever I chose. Out of all my really large
quantity of odds and ends, so to speak, I eventually
only had to pay a slight duty on my photographic
apparatus and films. After this, as you may
imagine, we were all of us soon on shore, and
exploring the place.





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TO THE YELLOW SEA. 101
On closer inspection, Yeniseisk does not, like many
foreign cities, lose in interest, for the streets are wide,
and there are many fine buildings in them which
would compare well with those of most Western
towns. Novel and interesting
sights were to be met with at
every step. Strange-looking
vehicles crowded the spacious
market-place, surrounded by
motley crowds of noisy peas-
ants, who, however, were far
too occupied with their bar-
gaining to notice me by more
than a passing glance, in spite
of my costume, which, to say
the least of it, must have
been a novelty to most of
them. I could not help pic-
turing to myself the probable (
effect a Russian tourist would
produce were he to turn up
suddenly in an English pro-
PEASANT woman.
vincial town on market-day
and walk about among the crowd of rough country
folk. He would possibly get more than a passing
glance, and, doubtless, be glad when he had got out
of the place. What struck me most at first sight in
Yeniseisk was, to all outward appearance, the entire
absence of shops, which, as a rule, give so much local


102 FROM THE ARCTIO OCEAN
colouring and life to a place. Of course there are
shops, but from the outside they are unrecognizable,
as no goods are displayed in the windows, and only
a name-board betokens their existence. This, I hear,
is the custom throughout Northern Siberia, and it is
easily understood, when one considers that in all the
houses there are double, and in some cases even
treble, windows, to keep out the intense cold during
the winter, and that even in spite of these precautions
the innermost windows are thickly coated with ice,
notwithstanding the high temperature of the rooms!
I was much surprised to learn that there was no
hotel in Yeniseisk—a fact, doubtless, to be accounted
for by reason of the few travellers who visit this out-
of-the-way place, those having occasion to do so
probably staying with friends or taking lodgings.
Perhaps, however, with the possible annual advent of
English tourists by the Kara Sea route, some enter-
prising Yeniseisk citizen will find it a profitable
venture to start one (on English lines, it is to be
hoped). Fortunately, lodgings were readily to be
got—and cheap into the bargain; so, with the aid
of an interpreter, I was soon snugly quartered in two
rooms, which for comfort and warmth left nothing to
be desired, though there might perhaps have been a
little more furniture, and also washing accommo-
dation; but that, however, was a detail. I have
stayed in many worse rooms when on sketching tours
in France. “Board and lodging” I arranged for,


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 103
but I afterwards discovered that, although they had
agreed to provide “everything,” I was expected to
find such “extras” as bedding, sheets, blankets, towels,
tea, sugar, milk, butter, eggs, and candles, if I desired
such luxuries. When I expressed my surprise to the
interpreter, I was informed that such is the Russian
custom. I asked what “board and lodging” really
meant, then ; but he was unable to explain. As he
was a Russian himself, he probably thought what
strange ideas Englishmen have However, in spite
of this slight inconvenience, I managed to settle
down comfortably in a very short time, and found
the people I was lodging with very obliging, and
ready to do their best to supply my wants when I
tried to express them in the few words of Russian
I had managed to pick up while on board the Phoenix.
It was the commencement of the “season" when we
arrived at Yeniseisk, and the town was full; for,
with the advent of winter, the neighbouring gold-
mines are deserted, and the rich owners return to
their palatial town residences, so the place presents a
much more animated appearance than it does during
the summer, when the greater portion of the male
inhabitants are absent, and the streets look compara-
tively empty.
The great industry of Yeniseisk is, of course,
centred in its gold-fields, which were once among
the most important of Siberia, but are now not
so prolific as formerly. Everybody in the town has


104 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
a direct or indirect interest in them, this being
easily accounted for—the money made in them being
all, as a rule, spent in Yeniseisk, so all the local
trades profit by it. No less than eight thousand men
are annually employed in the different workings—
many coming from long distances to get employment
—the pay, as a rule, being exceptionally good, and all
their food found them. Some of the wealthiest of
the mine-owners employ as many as six hundred men,
and have a hospital and medical staff permanently
attached to the works. The alluvial gold-mines of
the Yeniseisk district have been worked since 1839.
The quartz working has only recently been com-
menced, and it promises very great results. Better
skill and appliances than are at present available are,
however, needed, I learn.
During the winter months Yeniseisk is well pro-
vided with amusement. There is a capital club-house,
which would pass muster anywhere, to which is
attached a theatre and a ball-room, with a delightful
“floor,” and performances or dances take place two
or three times a week. I shall long remember my
first evening at Yeniseisk, when I was taken to see
the club ; there was a dance on, and in the large,
brilliantly lighted rooms, with an excellent band
playing a familiar waltz, it was hard to believe one's
self nearly two thousand miles from a railroad, and
in the very heart of Asia. Society in Yeniseisk, of
course, consists principally of the wealthy mine-


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 105
2.
owners, or merchants, and their families, and the
Government officials and theirs. These are sufficient
pretty well to fill the club on big dance nights.
Exiles, who naturally form an important contingent,
are only allowed to enter subject to certain restric-
tions. For instance, the criminal ones are only per-
mitted to come to the performances in the theatre,
and are obliged to leave immediately after; while the
political ones are permitted to remain after the per-
formance, but on no account to dance. I learnt all
this on inquiry, for to a casual observer nothing is
noticeable of these arrangements, as the exiles fall in
with them without demur, and everything is con-
ducted in a manner which certainly reflects great
credit on the management, and could not be excelled
in any European club of the kind. Still, in spite of
all this, I could not help feeling that Yeniseisk is a
very democratic place. Everybody somehow seems
to think himself as good as anybody else, and at a
performance, during the entr'acte, when every one
walks about, you become quite tired of the number
of people who expect you to shake hands with them,
from the rich mine-owner to the discharged convicted
forger, in Siberia “for life.”
One of these latter gentlemen, a well-dressed man
(who, I afterwards learnt, had not only committed a
big forgery, but also several minor felonies, for which
he would probably have been “doing” fifteen years
in England), introduced himself to me one day, and


106 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN TO THE YELLOW SEA.
in very good French, but with no end of “swagger,"
asked me how I liked Yeniseisk, and on my replying
that I liked it very much and thought it very pretty,
he simply stared at me with amazement for a moment,
and then said, “You have evidently not yet seen
Moscow or St. Petersburg, or you would not think so.
All I can say is, that it is a positive disgrace to send
a gentleman like me to such a hole !” I had the
greatest difficulty in preventing myself from telling
him that he might consider himself lucky he had not
committed the same offences in England, or he would
probably be in a very different sort of “hole,” as he
called it.


A Prison beauty.
CHAPTER XI.
THE CITY OF YENISEISK—continued.
A visit to the prison—First impressions of the Siberian
system.
I was naturally anxious to see something of the prison
system here. On hearing of my desire, the governor
of Yeniseisk, with whom I had got on very friendly
terms, courteously offered not only to let me accom-
pany him on one of his weekly inspections of the
prison, but also to let me make some sketches of
what I should see, if I so desired. I naturally jumped
at the offer, and on the appointed day I was punctual
to the appointment, and we drove together in his


108 FROM THE ARCTION OCEAN
sledge. It was an intensely cold day; in fact, the
coldest I had yet experienced, there being no less
than 28 deg. of frost (Réaumur), so one simply had to
bury one's self in one's furs, and avoid talking as
much as possible.
The building, which is on the outskirts of the
town, offers nothing of interest from the outside,
being an ordinary two-story brick building,
looking much like most prisons anywhere. It is
placed in close proximity to the barracks, so that in
case of need military assistance is readily available.
At the gates of the courtyard, where a sentinel was
stationed, we were received by the personnel of the
establishment—the director of the prison, a tall, thin,
military-looking man in a shabby uniform, with a
long sword by his side, and a huge astrachan képi on
his head
armed with cutlasses and big revolvers, which looked
much too large for them. I learnt afterwards that
the director was a Polish exile, who had been sent to
and five undersized little jailers, who were
Siberia after the last insurrection in Poland, and, at
the expiration of his sentence, had elected to remain
in Siberia as the director of the criminal prison of
Yeniseisk. We then entered the building. Once
inside the heavy iron-bound doors, the temperature
was delightfully warm as compared with outside, and,
as is usual in Siberia, an even heat everywhere, on
the stone staircases, in the corridors, and in the
rooms. So far as warmth is concerned, the prisoners





TO THE YELLOW SEA. 109
certainly have nothing to complain of After con-
siderable unlocking of big padlocks and removing
ponderous bars, we entered the portion of the prison
occupied by men undergoing long sentences for felony
and other offences. It was a big sort of vaulted hall,
dimly lighted by a few heavily grated windows on
one side. Under the windows the whole length of
the room was a very wide sort of sloping shelf,
which serves as a sleeping-place; and ranged against
this shelf, shoulder to shoulder, stood a long line of
prisoners in the usual prison garb of Siberia. On our
entry, they all as with one voice called out, in a deep
guttural bass tone, the word “Sarasteté!” (Good day),
to which the governor replied by a military salute.
As we walked slowly up the line I had a good oppor-
tunity of a near inspection of the most awful-looking
crowd of ruffians I have ever seen. Perhaps the ill-
fitting garment they wore added to the effect; still,
with very few exceptions, vice was written on their
faces, and I was not astonished to learn that most
of them were old criminals, and had been there many.
years. This hall led into another, and yet another,
with the same long lines of unkempt ruffians. Some-
how, on looking at them, I could not help thinking
of the awful photographs one sees outside the Morgue
in Paris. I remarked to the governor what a
dreadful thing it must be for a young man for a first
and perhaps trivial offence to be thrown among such
a crowd of rascals, who have nothing to do all day


110 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
but sleep and eat, and who are under no supervision
whatever except that of an occasional visit from one
of the insignificant jailers. He agreed with me that
the system is a wrong one, but, said he, “Que voulez-
vous? Il n'y a pas de place pour les caser tous
seuls.” My astonishment was that five such little
warders could keep such a crowd in order; but
doubtless the knowledge of the close proximity of
the barracks has a wholesome effect.
In the corner of each hall, close up by the ceiling,
was the indispensable sacred picture, or ikon, looking
strangely incongruous in such foul surroundings.
Still, even in this dismal place there was a touch of
humour. As we passed slowly through, one miserable
wretch complained to the governor that his coat did
not fit, to which the governor very neatly replied
that he could do nothing in the matter. If people
wanted their clothes to fit they should not come there!
We then visited the murderers' department, which
was in the upper story. There were no less than
thirty men and women waiting their trial on this
charge. Capital punishment does not exist in Russia,
so the worst these prisoners can expect is hard labour
at the mines for a certain number of years, after
which they are free to live in Siberia, but not to
return to Russia. In this portion of the prison the
rooms were smaller, and only contained, at the most,
a dozen men in each. All these prisoners, though as
yet untried, were, without exception, in irons.


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 111
Several of the most desperate characters were in
solitary confinement. In one of the “solitary" cells
was a tall, good-looking man, who had murdered an
old woman—a foul and brutal murder, I heard, and
committed for the sake of a few roubles only. He
complained bitterly about being shut up all alone, as,
he said, he had done “nothing.”
“How nothing?” said the governor; for the man
The MURDERERS’ DEPARTMENT, YENISEISK PRISON.
had been taken red-handed, and, in fact, had never
denied his guilt.
“It was only a woman I killed !” was the whining
reply, and then he looked astonished at the expression
of disgust on our faces on hearing this little speech.
There is no doubt about it that the solitary-con-
finement system is the one with the most terror in it.
I could not help trying to imagine the feelings of the


112 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
caged ruffian as he saw the door shut, and heard the
heavy bars drawn and the massive padlock replaced—
very different, probably, to those of the rascals in the
large hall below, who doubtless, as soon as we were
out of hearing, recommenced their pandemonium.
The women's prison, which we afterwards visited,
struck me as being a curious sight, and reminded me
not a little of Dickens's description of the old “Fleet”
or “Marshalsea.” prisons. The inmates seemed free
to do what they pleased—of course, with the excep-
tion of leaving the place—and the effect on entering
was most extraordinary. The room was full of steam,
for it was “washing day,” I was informed, and over-
head was quite a network of ropes with wet clothes
on them, hung up to dry. Dirty, unkempt children
crowded round us as we entered, while, through an
open door leading to an adjoining department,
appeared a lot of semi-clad females, who regarded us
with a curiosity devoid of all modesty. There was
here none of the respect which we were shown in the
men's quarters, for these sullen-looking, half-naked
women evidently looked upon our visit as an unwar-
rantable intrusion on their privacy.
As a result of my very interesting morning, I
could not help coming to the conclusion that, at
any rate as far as I could judge, the criminals of
Siberia have little to complain of They pass their
forced seclusion in absolute idleness, if they so wish,
for the work they do, if any, is voluntary—eating


ºg II ºd ºovae azlºxisiasa Nax ‘sosiaa s, Naxow ahi. ĐNILISIA hoxha Aop ahli








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TO THE YELLOW SEA. 113
and sleeping, they while away the time as best they
can, like so many caged beasts.
On another occasion I had an opportunity of seeing
a batch of criminal prisoners start for Krasnoiarsk,
where they were being sent for trial. They were all
assembled in the hall of the Palais de Justice, and a
strange crowd they looked, sitting along the wall on
a bench, dressed in their drab kaftans, which serve
them as overcoats. Round about lolled the guard
which was to escort them half-way to Krasnoiarsk,
half a dozen undersized soldiers (not “Cossacks,”
as they are often erroneously described), with rifles
and fixed bayonets. All were well wrapped up for
the journey, with huge woollen comforters round
their necks, black gloves, and felt boots on. I had
no difficulty in getting them to remain still while I
made a sketch, for they seemed readily to under-
stand what I wanted, even to the prisoners. As
usual, when I had finished, no one evinced the
slightest curiosity to see the result. A few minutes
afterwards they started, under the command of a
non-commissioned officer. And a curious procession.
it was, for none of the prisoners seemed to feel their
position, and walked just as they pleased. I could
not help thinking that the soldiers, had the worst
of it, burdened as they were with their heavy rifles,
ammunition, and accoutrements, while the prisoners
had absolutely nothing to carry. The soldiers from
Yeniseisk only go half-way, when they meet a convoy
I


1 14 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
from Krasnoiarsk, and exchange prisoners. The
journey takes about a week, as they only travel about
fifty versts a day, and only during the daylight.
There is no prison for “political exiles” in Yeni-
seisk. Most of this class of déportes who are living
in the town have already served their term of
punishment elsewhere, and have elected to remain
in Siberia, where they probably find the life not half
so bad as it is painted; or, as is often the case, were
banished “for life” from Russia, and condemned to
pass the remainder of their days in Yeniseisk or some
other town or village.
In the case of a well-connected and educated man
being sent from, say, Moscow or St. Petersburg, or
some other important city in Russia, for a long
period to some remote Siberian village, the punish-
ment must be a severe one. From the little I have
seen of these villages on our way up the river, I
can imagine no fate more dreadful than to be shut
up alone in one of them, among a lot of unsym-
pathetic and ignorant peasants, with no books to
read, and entirely out of touch and hearing of the
civilized world. Better almost to be buried alive
When, however, instead of to an out-of-the-way
village, he is consigned to a biggish town like
Yeniseisk or Krasnoiarsk, his fate is certainly not
so hard. He is allowed to live how and where he
pleases; if he has money of his own he is permitted
to receive it; and if he is a sociable man he will


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 1 15
soon find that he is not treated as an outcast, even
by the officials, who, at any rate at Yeniseisk, are,
I hear, the very embodiment of courtesy and polite-
ness, though I, believe it to be the same all over
Siberia; and he will probably soon settle down to
his new life, and, as is often the case when the
sentence is not a “life" one, he will eventually decide
to remain in a country which, though doubtless not
all couleur de rose, is certainly not all black.
Still, there are many fine fellows whose fiery spirits
not even exile to Siberia can tame, and who are only
biding their time to return to Russia and start a
fresh struggle for freedom—with possibly (or rather,
probably) the same, or a worse, result to themselves.
There are a few of this sort here. One of them,
M. X., an evidently well-educated man of about
forty, was sent to Siberia for five years, two out of
which he passed in a village, the rest in Yeniseisk.
His time is up soon, when he will be allowed
to return to Russia again, but not to live in a
University town. His wife accompanied him into
exile. I met them out one evening at a friend's
house, and had a long and interesting talk with both
of them in French, as I was anxious to learn some-
thing of his experiences. I could not help remarking
to Madame that after what her husband had under-
gone he would, doubtless, on his return to Russia,
not meddle with politics again. To my astonish-
ment, she replied—


116 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN TO THE YELLOW SEA.
“Nisnaia 2" (Who can tell ?)
“What l” said I, “is not once sufficient to come
to Siberia 2"
But she shook her head, and answered, “It is
very difficult to remain silent when one sees the
state of things in Russia, and one knows how very
different it is in other countries. If no one takes
the initiative, it will never be changed.”
We were on delicate ground, so I thought it best
to change the subject, as one can never tell who may
be listening. Moreover, politics are not in my line.
However, I managed later on to have a further.
chat with M. X. on the subject, and he corroborated
the words of his wife, in spite of my asking him
if he had not had enough of it already in Siberia,
for if he were again caught tripping he would doubt-
less not get off so easily, but, in all probability, be
sent to the mines. “Surovno " (It is all the same
to me!) was his characteristic reply. The idea that
they are wasting their lives on a cause which is
not yet nearly ripe for solution, and which, for the
moment, only time can help, never seems to occur
to these men, who plod away cheerfully into Siberia
with the firm conviction that they are making
martyrs of themselves in the cause of liberty,
whereas, in reality, they are only helping to colonize
this vast continent.


STREET SCENE, YENISEIsk.
CHAPTER XII.
YENISEISK—continued.
The hospital—Siberian houses—Their comfort—The streets of
the city.
A FEw days after, I received an invitation to visit
the hospital, and, as I heard it was a very interesting
sight, I eagerly availed myself of it. The house
doctor, an amiable old gentleman, who spoke German
fluently, showed me over the place, and evidently
took a great pride in it, although he informed me it
was very old and was to be shortly replaced by a
new building. The Yeniseisk sick-list was, unfor-
tunately, very large at the time of my visit.
On entering the principal ward, every bed of which
was occupied, I was much struck with the curious
effect before me; it looked as if the place had been
prematurely decorated for Christmas. Everywhere


118 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
pine saplings were placed—between the beds and
along the walls—reaching from the ground to the
ceiling. On asking the reason, I was informed that
it was to purify the air. It certainly wanted it, for
the atmosphere was simply stifling. An English
doctor would have stood aghast at the temperature.
There was no attempt whatever at ventilation, and
the triple windows were all hermetically sealed.
Only a Russian could have lived in it, and all the
patients seemed comfortable enough.
A WATER-CAttrier.
The fire brigade at Yeniseisk, as is usual in all
Siberian towns—where the danger is so great in
consequence of the many wooden houses—is remark-
ably well organized. In case of need, the numerous
water-carriers of the town are bound to give their
services and provide horses and water-carts; while
in the tower over the fire-station is always a watch-
man, whose sole duty is to look out for the enemy,
and to give warning of any outbreak by means of a
big alarm-bell fixed on the upper platform.


'8II 'd ºop， oz]*ICISSINIK AITAIRI NGIZORI I SIHL INORIJ RISILVAA ĐNILLGIÐ





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TO THE YELLOW SEA. 119
What, I fancy, astonishes an Englishman most in
Siberia for the first time, is the wonderful temperature
he finds inside all the houses, from the richest to
the poorest—a temperature so equable as to permit
of the rarest tropical plants being cultivated with
the greatest success. I may say, in fact, that many
of the houses of the rich mine-
owners present the appearance
of conservatories, so crowded
are they with exotics of all sorts,
from climbing plants trained to
grow round the doors to huge
palms or plantains, and all in
the most perfect condition. An
Englishman's surprise is, there-
fore, comprehensible. He has
heard of the frightful cold of the
Siberian winter, so arrives in
the country duly armed against
it according to English ideas.
To his astonishment he finds
A SWELL.
that, when the thermometer in
the street registers 40 deg. of frost (Réaumur) the
temperature of his room is still as genial as though
it were spring, although there is no stove visible.
His thick flannel shirts are naturally very much too
warm ; he only requires one thin blanket on his bed;
and, when he goes out into the open air, his dacha
is amply sufficient to keep out the cold. That most


120 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
complete device for heating a house that was ever
imagined, the Russian stove, robs, therefore, the
Siberian winter of many of its terrors, and makes a
visit to this interesting and little-known country
pleasant even during the coldest period of the year.
The High Street of Yeniseisk is not unpicturesque ;
and the importance of many of the buildings is
enough to upset all the previously conceived ideas
of Siberian towns. It would astonish most Europeans
if they could see the stately mansions owned by some
of the millionaire mine-owners and rich exiles; these
houses look as if they had been transplanted from
the Champs Elysées or the Bois de Boulogne, and in
the interior are to be found luxuries with which
Paris, rather than Siberia, is generally associated.
In my sketch I have, unfortunately, been unable to
give any of these palatial residences, as I wanted to
show the general effect of the town, with the schools,
fire-towers, one of the many churches, and the in-
evitable telegraph-poles. The two Collegiate schools
—one for boys, the other for girls—were founded by
one of the merchant princes of the town—Mr.
Kitmanoff. They are built in a style which would
mark them as striking-looking buildings in any town
in the world. They contain a fine laboratory of
physical science, well supplied with apparatus, and
a drawing-class room, provided with plaster casts
and geometrical models; the walls of the rooms and
corridors are hung with maps, drawings, and diagrams


- -- -
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Hill | | - | |
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THE TWO COLLEGIATE SCHOOLs, YENESEIsk. [To face p. 120
ace p. 120.








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LIFE IN sibleRIA : AN AFTERNOON DRIVE, YENESEISK.
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TO THE YELLOW SEA. 121
useful for teaching, and the seats and desks are of
the most approved design for schools. There are
several European professors of competent attainments
in this excellent educational institution. Yeniseisk,
though only a place of ten or twelve thousand
inhabitants, is quite a model abode of civiliza-
tion.
It is worth while to see the ladies of fashionable
society going out for an afternoon drive at Yeniseisk.
When the temperature is not too low, say, 15 deg.
below zero (Réaumur), one sees many smart sledges
about. Four o'clock in the afternoon is the favourite
time for driving, and one can then see horses as fine
as those of any private carriages in London. The
fair occupants of the sledges are, as a rule, too much
wrapped up in furs to be seen to advantage, and, as
the “grand chic" is to tear along at top speed, but
a fleeting vision of beauty is all that is generally
obtained, and before you have time almost to re-
cognize who is in the sledge it is already far
away.
The city of Yeniseisk at this moment is, of course,
of great interest to Englishmen, on account of the
scheme for sea traffic between England and the Yenisei
—which, if it prove successful, will probably go a
long way towards making the fortune of the smart
little town—and, if the canal is ever finished which
the Government is constructing to connect Yeniseisk
with Tomsk, there will exist, by means of the Volga,


122 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN TO THE YELLOW SEA.
Obi, Yenisei, Irtish, Angara, and Amoor Rivers, one
of the longest water highways of the world, and
Chinese and Central Asian goods will be brought
direct to the railroad at Tiumen, and thus to the
gates of Europe, without transhipment.


READY TO START.
CHAPTER XIII.
FROM YENISEISK TO KBASNOIARSK.
My first experience of sledging—A delightful adventure—
Krasnoiarsk—The market-place—The High Street.
IF asked which place I should prefer, Krasnoiarsk or
London, to pass the winter in, I should, without
hesitation, give the preference to this picturesque
Siberian town, with its bright blue sky and exhila-
rating atmosphere, its gay and interesting society, and
many festivities during the Christmas season. I do
not think there was ever a country less known or
more maligned than Siberia. I found this out more
and more every day; but I formed that opinion from
the time I landed, after my voyage through the Arctic
Seas, and I have not had occasion to alter it, nor am
I likely to do so.
In my last chapter I endeavoured to give you a
description of Yeniseisk, the first Siberian town of


124 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
any importance I had then reached, and where I
managed to spend five of the pleasantest weeks
imaginable among some of the most hospitable
people I ever had the good fortune to meet. Far-
away Yeniseisk will long remain graven on my
memory, not only on account of its being the
long-looked-for goal of the most eventful voyage I
ever made in my life, but also as recalling many
delightful hours and novel experiences.
The journey by sledge from Yeniseisk to Krasnoiarsk,
a distance of 331 versts, if one travels day and night,
takes forty-eight hours; this, of course, means hard
going the whole time, but, as the various post-houses
on the road offer but little inducement for the
traveller to prolong his stay in them longer than is
absolutely necessary, there is no temptation to loiter
on the way. I had been strongly advised to buy my
own sledge, and not trust to the ramshackle convey-
ances which could be hired at the different stations,
so I determined to go by the advice of people who
knew what Siberian travelling meant, and, with the
assistance of a kind friend, was fortunate in picking
up a sledge in excellent condition wonderfully cheap.
All complete it cost me only fifty-two roubles, or
about £6 15s.—such a bargain was it that, I was
informed, I should doubtless be able to sell it again at
the same price anywhere. -
In fact, my lucky star seemed to be in the ascend-
ant at that time, for just before leaving Yeniseisk I


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 125
had a unique little adventure which made my first
impressions of Siberian sledging too agreeable for
description in plain Anglo-Saxon.
I had made my arrangements for starting, when a
Siberian friend of mine called and asked me if I
would escort a lady as far as Krasnoiarsk. The sledge
held two, but I was alarmed at the idea, especially
as I was informed that the lady was a widow. Like
Mr. Weller, I avoid widows. It is one of my few
guiding principles. I said, therefore, that my bag-
gage was multitudinous and heavy. My friend had
placed me under so many obligations that I could not
refuse to reconsider the matter, so it was arranged
that I should be presented to the widow on the next
day to talk the matter over. I went to bed
quite determined to have my sledge to myself. In
the morning I called. The lady came into the room,
and, instead of the wrinkled widow I had conjured
up in my mind, behold a most charming and graceful
creature of twenty-five, with a most vivacious manner
and a smile which melted all the frost in my nature.
(I mentally decided that if it cost me another sledge
for the baggage the widow should be my companion.)
So without the slightest hesitation I said, twirling my
moustaches, that I should feel myself a thousand
years younger if I might be permitted to escort her
to Krasnoiarsk. I made this remark in English, so
neither the widow nor my friend understood it; but
I quickly assured them in my very best Parisian that


126 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
on mature consideration I had discovered that there
was room for two in the sledge, so the horses were
ordered at the Government post-house, and at six
o'clock that evening we started on our first stage,
about twenty-five versts on the road. A party of
friends accompanied us so far, and when we reached
the post-house they produced chickens and champagne
“GooD-BYE.”
enough to have bribed the whole Press of Russia.
Then good-bye, and away over the moonlit snow,
galloping noiselessly through the night. I smoked a
heavenly cigar; the widow puffed at a cigarette.
And so we travelled, halting only at the post-houses to
change the horses. My sledge was heavily laden with
tinned meats and food to last me a long way. The
post-houses supplied tea and minor necessities.


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 127
I was soon initiated by my charming companion
into the mode of travelling by sledge here. I learnt
that horses (the usual number is a troika, or three)
were to be got at each post-house, the cost being
three kopeks per horse per verst (rather under a
penny for two-thirds of a mile), plus ten kopeks
progon, or Government tax, per station. The
yemschik, or driver, changes with each relay, and is
included in the charges, but he naturally expects a
small gratuity for himself. Although this is not
obligatory, it is a usual custom to give sixpence or so,
according to the length of the stage and how one
was driven. The padarojna, or Government per-
mit, authorizing the traveller to have the necessary
horses, is a thing of the past, to all intents and pur-
poses. Of course, there is nothing against the traveller
wasting his money on one, if he so wishes, but he
will find it a nuisance rather than otherwise. A
good tip to your last driver goes a long way further
towards helping one than all the Government pada-
rojnas, in my humble opinion.
I have travelled right across Siberia without one,
and had not the slightest difficulty in getting horses
anywhere, and in no case was the delay longer than
was necessary to get ready a cup of tea or bouillon-
fleet to keep out the cold; but, of course, I was
exceptionally fortunate in having had the advice of
experienced friends before starting on my journey,
and all went as merrily as a wedding-bell, although


128 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
I knew but the merest smattering of the Russian
language. The distances between the different
stations never exceeded twenty-five versts (about
sixteen miles), and this generally took a little over
two hours to do, so it may be remarked the pace was
not slow. The post-station, I am informed, is usually
the best house in the village (which is not always
saying much), the owner being paid a certain sum
yearly for the use of his largest room, which he
always has to keep ready for travellers, and if
necessary, for a small fee, to supply the inevitable
samovar. Refreshments, also, he in most cases
undertakes to provide ; but, as a general rule, these
only consist of black bread, milk, and frozen eggs,
so the hungry traveller who is at all fastidious
does well to provide himself beforehand with all his
gastronomical necessaries. Of course, I am now
speaking of travelling on the route from Yeniseisk
to Krasnoiarsk, and not the “Great Post Road,”
which I shall have future occasion to describe. I
found these houses, in most cases, clean and comfort-
ably furnished, but always heated to such a degree
as to render them almost unbearable; so stifling, as
a rule, was the atmosphere that it was generally like
walking into a badly ventilated Turkish bath. I
never stayed a moment longer than was absolutely
necessary, and was always glad to get back again
into my comfortable sledge.
The road was in exceptionally good condition for


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 129
sledging; for the greater part of the way it was
like travelling on a velvet-pile carpet. I never saw
deeper snow anywhere, the horses at times being
absolutely buried up to their withers in it, while
the trees on either side of us were simply bent
down with the weight of their fleecy pall. The
scenery was at times very beautiful, having almost
the appearance of an English park, and altogether
very different to what I expected to find in the wilds
of Siberia.
Taking it all in all, therefore, I found sledging a
very pleasant way of travelling, and when snugly
tucked up in my furs, as we dashed on through the
darkness of the night, I was lulled gradually to sleep
by the continuous jingle of the duga bells, the Strand,
the Paper, and in fact London itself, seemed but as a
dream of a far distant past. Of course this sort
of sentimental reverie is only inspired when one is
on a good road; if it is otherwise, well, one's
impressions are not of quite so soothing a nature,
more especially if they are caused by the corners of
a box or the roof of the sledge |
I had reason to congratulate myself on having
provided myself with quite a Siberian outfit in the
way of furs, for I don't think I ever felt such cold
in my life as I did on the road from Yeniseisk. If
one's face was exposed to the wind for only a few
seconds, one's eyes and nostrils were frozen together
and one's moustache became coated with thick ice.
K


130 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
The horses, also, were so covered with white frost
that their colour was absolutely unrecognizable. I
found from my thermometer that the cold averaged
each day no less than 35 deg. below zero (Réaumur)!
It will give some idea of its intensity when I
mention that whilst smoking in the open air, and
having occasion to expectorate, my saliva would often
fall to the ground as a solid lump of ice
On reaching Krasnoiarsk, I was much surprised,
and of course pleased, to find quite a decent hotel,
where I was accommodated with a couple of really
comfortable rooms well furnished, on fairly moderate
terms. They would, I fancy, have been considered
good anywhere; and when I add that they were fitted
with electric bells, that there were sheets and bedding
to the bed, and that I had a real “tub” every morn-
ing, you will understand that it seemed like getting
back to civilization, with the ordinary “comforts"
of everyday life once more. Krasnoiarsk is decidedly
a picturesque town; and, if it be so in winter, it must
be doubly pleasant in summer. Situated on one of
the most beautiful portions of the river Yenisei, in
the centre of an amphitheatre of high hills, every
street has a sort of background of its own, so to
speak, and the effect is very pleasing. It is, of course,
a much more important place than Yeniseisk, being
considerably larger, and is more advanced in every
respect. I was struck with this on the night of my
arrival, by the appearance and length of the lamp-


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 131
lit streets we had to drive through before reaching
the hotel.
The town was busy enough next morning, for it
was market-day, and the traffic in the streets abut-
ting on the market-place was so great that it required
the services of several Cossacks, placed at different
points for the purpose, to control it ; and they had
IN THE MEAT MARKET, KRASNoLARsk.
their work cut out for them, for there is evidently no
rule of the road here, to all outward appearance, and
sledges of all sorts and sizes were dashing about in
every direction in the most reckless fashion. The
Bolskoi Oulitza, or High Street, presents a very
animated appearance on a fine afternoon, and, if the
weather be not too cold, one sees many pretty faces
and smart equipages. Krasnoiarsk, owing to its


132 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
sheltered position, is not so cold as Yeniseisk, the
average here during the winter months being only
15 deg. below zero (Réaumur). Every afternoon
there is quite a crowd of skaters in the fine public
gardens, and the scene is a very picturesque one, for
there are usually many officers on the ice, their
striking uniforms harmonizing well with the furs of
the fair sex.
Society in Krasnoiarsk is much gayer than in
A TYPICAL SIBERIAN INTERIOR, KRASNOIARSK.
Yeniseisk. I was fortunate in having letters of
introduction to the Governor-General Telakoffski and
other officials, also to the two richest mine-owners
in the place, Messrs. Consnitsoff and Mativieff, so
what with dinners and dances I never found the
time hang heavily on my hands of an evening; in
fact, it was rather too much the contrary, for so





[To face p. 133.
sNow SCAVENGER, KRASNOIARSK.


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 133
great is the hospitality of the Siberians that it was
positively difficult to get an evening to one's self.
Most of the people spoke French or German, and,
as many visit Europe every year, they are, so to
speak, well in touch with all subjects of social and
artistic interest, and the general “tone” of the
dinners, dances, and musical evenings was exactly
like what one is accustomed to on the continent.
Excellent musicians absolutely abound here.
I fancy it would have astonished most people in
England, or, for the matter of it, anywhere, could
they have been suddenly transported to the spacious
ball-room of the club (sobranje) on Christmas Day,
when the governor held his annual official reception.
The magnificent suite of rooms was simply packed
with everybody who was anybody here; all officers
and Government officials in full uniform, the civilians
in evening dress, whilst the many ladies who were
also present, dressed in the latest of Parisian fashion,
lent additional interest to a scene the like of which
I certainly never even dreamt of seeing in the
“dreary land of exile.”
Of course Krasnoiarsk, like most places, has its
“season,” which lasts during the winter months
only; during the heat of the summer the town has
almost a deserted appearance, I heard, as all the rich
people then go to their cool villas on the hills in order
to escape from the scorching rays of the sun and the
blinding dust, and the place is left to the Oi polloi.


134 FROM THE ARCTIC 00EAN
CHAPTER XIV.
KRASNOLARSK–continued.
Privileged criminal exiles—Ordinary criminals—A marching
convoy on the road—Convoy soldiers—The convoy—
Proceedings on arrival at the Perasilny of Krasnoiarsk—
The starostor of the gang—A stroll round the Perasilny—
The married prisoners' quarters—A “privileged” prisoner
in his cell—Scene outside the prison—Prison labour—I
give it a trial—Details as to outside employment of
prisoners.
THE CATHEDRAL, KRASNOIARSK.
T HAVING given some slight
idea of the bright side of life
in Krasnoiarsk, a little about
the reverse of the medal
will doubtless be of interest.
In a vast country like
Siberia, where a great part
of the population—I mean
of the lower middle class
and working orders—is com-
posed of criminal exiles, it
may readily be imagined
that there exists a peculiar
state of social opinion, which is positively amusing
at times. If a man conducts himself well, and is


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 135
liked, it matters not a straw that he be an exiled
“gentleman criminal” doing his time, for he is
received almost everywhere, and one need not be
ashamed to be seen associating with him, as even
the officials shake hands with him when they meet.
He himself makes no secret of his misdemeanour—
rather the contrary, as a rule—for most of them
seem to think that “coming to reside in Siberia."
absolutely whitens them again in the eyes of society.
As a matter of fact, they are encouraged in this
belief, for they are always spoken of as “unfortu-
nates.” Perhaps they are called so because they were
found out and sent here ! On one occasion two men
I knew very well met in my rooms; both were
criminal exiles who had formerly occupied high
positions in St. Petersburg—one, a German, having
been “sent” for uttering forged bonds; the other,
a Russian, for embezzlement of Government money.
As they were not acquainted, I naturally introduced
them to each other. It was difficult to realize that
these two well-dressed and polished men, who spoke
several languages fluently, were each doing a ten
years' penal sentence. After a short preamble on
the usual everyday topics, the Russian asked the
German if he were an inhabitant of Krasnoiarsk.
“Gott sei dank, nein,” replied he ; “I was only
sent for ten years, and my time is nearly up.”
“Ah! then you're a verschickte 2 I thought you
were. So am I. What did you come for 2"


136 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
“Oh, only for so and so. And you?”
“Oh, mine” (with a certain amount of pride)
“was a big affair; I managed to get over forty
thousand roubles out of the Government.”
And so the conversation rattled pleasantly on,
gradually drifting into (for me) more congenial
subjects. There was not the least bit of shame
about them—they talked of their offences, while
smoking their cigarettes, as naturally as most men
would relate an interesting episode in their lives,
and I sat and listened—and wondered. The same
unbiassed way of looking on the state of affairs
exists among the lower orders; and soldiers, with
gangs of criminals in prison garb and heavy clanking
chains, push their way on foot through the crowd in
the market-place, attracting no notice, the prisoners
being, to all appearance, stolidly indifferent to their
situation.
Priviligierts, or well-to-do criminals, that is to
say, men of intelligence who have received a good
education, either in a Government school or gymnase,
and who have occupied good positions in their time,
when they are only guilty of such petty offences as
forgery or misappropriation, are never absolutely
associated with the vulgar horde of ordinary, every-
day criminals. On their way to Siberia, although
they travel with the same gang, they do so apart,
even in their own conveyance, if they have the
means to pay for it. On arrival at the different


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 137
étapes, the prisons in the villages, they are
provided with a room to themselves, till the detach-
ment is ready to start again, and on reaching their
destination are turned loose, so to speak, and left
to shift for themselves. I had no difficulty whatever
in learning all this, for my various “criminal”
acquaintances were not reticent; in fact, seemed glad
to tell me all about it, as an interesting story.
All this naturally excited my curiosity and made
me desire to witness personally, if possible, some of
the proceedings, and, as good luck had it, I was
soon enabled to do so. An officer with whom I had
been very friendly was told off with his detachment
to escort a large body of prisoners coming from
Tomsk; he had to take them over from their
previous escort some fifty versts back and convoy
them to Krasnoiarsk; so he courteously let me know
of the probable time of his arrival at a certain point
on the road, so that I could drive out to meet him
and make as many photos and sketches as I wished.
It is needless to say I jumped at the invitation, and
on the appointed day took an isvoschik and drove
along the Tomsk road.
We had driven some considerable distance without
seeing the slightest sign of life on the deserted
highway, when suddenly on the crisp frosty air I
distinguished a faint distant sound, so peculiar and
weird that it immediately attracted my attention, as
it was evidently approaching us. It was not unlike


138 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
the noise which would be produced by hundreds of
small birds singing all at once, yet I could see nothing
of any sort anywhere on the vast plain, so I drew
my driver's attention to it as well as I could with
my limited vocabulary of Russian. To him it was
neither novel nor interesting; he knew what it was at
once. “The arrestanti are coming,” he briefly told
me; and shortly after, on ascending a rise in the
road which had concealed them from our view, there
came in sight a big body of men coming slowly along,
and I then discovered that the strange noise which
had so impressed me was produced by the clanking
of the heavy chains they wore. But then, alas! all
preconceived illusions vanished, for it was a loathsome
and depressing sight, and rendered doubly so under
the bright sunlight. There was absolutely nothing
of the poetic about it that I had been led to expect
from the descriptions I had read so often before
coming to Siberia. It was simply a huge crowd of
what looked like (and probably was) the very scum
of the earth, for all races seemed to be represented
amongst it, making as villanous and evil-looking a
lot of men as one could possibly see. In front and
on either side of the column were soldiers with rifles
and fixed bayonets. By the way, many writers
speak of these soldiers as Cossacks; as a matter of
fact, Cossacks are now never under any circumstances
used for this or any duty in connection with prisoners,
nor have they for many years past. On the road,


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TO THE YELLOW SEA. 139
as well as round the prisons, only special men are
employed; these are known all over Russia and
Siberia as “convoy soldiers,” and form a big brigade,
which is under the command of a special general
and a large staff of officers. All the men must have
served a certain time in the regular army before they
are eligible for this branch of the service.
How any writer who has actually seen a gang of
criminal exiles on the march can describe it in any
way as a pathetic sight beats me, and my only
astonishment is that convicts of other countries are
not also spoken of in the same sentimental way,
for they are probably far worse off than Siberian
criminals, who, as a matter of fact, have a much
better time of it, considering their crimes, than they
would have anywhere else, barring, of course, the
trifling discomfort of having to “foot it" the whole
distance if they are able. If they are footsore or
lame they are permitted to ride on one of the baggage
conveyances. The more I learn about the prisoners'
life, either on the road or in the ostrogs, the more
astonished I am at the humane way in which they
are treated, and how little is really known of it in
the outer world. I am not referring to the system
as a whole, which I feel convinced is not only
a wrong but a demoralizing one, but to minor
details, which show a kindly feeling on the part of
the authorities which is somewhat unexpected. For
instance, all Jews or Mohammedans receive ten kopeks


140 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
(3d.) per day, both on the road and when in prison,
so that they can purchase their own food, and have
it cooked according to their belief, the food and
cooking being looked after by one of their own
religion deputed by themselves. In a country where
it is said that the Jews are so persistently persecuted
by the authorities, this comes as rather an astounding
revelation, in my opinion. I know nothing whatever
about prison life in England, but I am anxious to know
if we treat our convicts in the same way. Political
prisoners never march (unless they wish to do so),
but are conveyed on telegas or sledges according to
the season, and always follow some distance behind
the criminals, with whom they never are associated.
Considering how slowly the column advances, for I
am informed it is often no less than four or five
months on the road, resting as it does every second
day, this must be an awful journey indeed for those
who are leaving friends, home, and in fact all behind
them for ever. For these “unfortunates,” when not
criminal ones, all one's sympathy is due; but the
canaille marching on ahead, and who are thus most
en Évidence, in most cases richly deserve more than
their fate, and ought to thank their lucky stars they
are Russian and not English convicts.
In the rear of the column followed about twenty
open sledges, on which were women, children, foot-
sore prisoners, and miscellaneous baggage. Even the
drivers were soldiers, and with their rifles across


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i


142 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
It may not be generally known that in Russia
every gang of prisoners has its staroster, or captain,
who is elected by themselves from amongst their
number, and who on all occasions acts as their
spokesman. It is difficult to ascertain on what
The starroster or The GANG.
particular merits he is elected—perhaps it is that
he is known to be the biggest dare-devil villain
amongst them, or that he is generally feared; at any
rate, from all accounts, the staroster has always such
unbounded influence and power amongst his fellows


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 143
that if he were to decree the death of one of them
there is no doubt whatever but that the sentence
would be carried out. As a matter of fact, cases of
the kind have been frequently known, the sort of
liberty which Siberian prisoners enjoy amongst them-
selves rendering this an easy matter, and detection
of the actual assassin absolutely impossible. A weak
prisoner, therefore, who is in the bad books of his
staroster must have a bad time of it, for he can be
bullied and knocked about with impunity, and would
never dare to report it. I have heard of an incident
which happened quite recently, and which will give
some idea of prison life here.
A prisoner had the foolhardiness (for one can call
it nothing else) to inform the officials of the intended
evasion of three of the most desperate characters in
the prison. Whether he did it out of revenge or to
suit his own ends is not known ; at any rate, his
treason (for such it would undoubtedly be considered
amongst his fellows) got somehow to be known, and
his death decreed by the staroster. In the mean
time, however, he had been removed to another cell,
so it was arranged that it should take place at the
Government photographer's, when the gang went to be
photo'd; but the officials heard of his danger, and he
was removed to another room—only just in time, for
he would have been lynched, to a certainty, other-
wise. Although after this he was placed in another
part of the building, the news had spread, and his


144 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
life was made so awful for him that he was eventually
placed in solitary confinement till he could be sent
GROUP of PRIsonERs (FROM A Government Photograph).
to another prison. Capital punishment not existing
in Siberia (except in the rarest and most extreme of
cases), criminals are absolutely reckless, as they know


TO THE YELLO W SEA. 145
they cannot get worse than they have got, so there
are many prisoners with a list of murders and other
crimes against them which would probably make an
English criminal open his eyes.
But revenons à nos moutons (or rather convicts).
As the different men were required the staroster
called out their names, and they then came to be
“verified ”—that is to say, compared with their
photo, which is attached to the paper relating to each
one. I omitted to mention that all convicts, before
starting on the long march across Siberia, have their
heads shaved on one side, to render them immediately
recognizable as prisoners, and so as to prevent them
from running away; and very hideous does this
operation render them, as there is no concealing it.
Still, in spite of it, numbers of them do escape, as
I shall have occasion to tell you in a subsequent
chapter. After the “verification ” the prisoners were
let loose into the courtyard of the perasilny, and left
to shift for themselves and find accommodation where
they could in the building. As I have already
remarked, the perasilny is only a sort of depôt for
prisoners; they never remain in it long, only till a
detachment is starting for the prison or mine to which
they have been consigned.
I was permitted to roam about all over the place
with my sketch-book, quite alone, so made sketches
amongst the unsavoury crowd of ruffians to my
heart's content, and although they came closer to me
L


146 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
at times than I desired, still I was in no way
molested. It was certainly a most extraordinary
sight. Groups of evil, sullen-looking men were
either roaming about the spacious courtyard, or else
hanging about in groups, talking in an undertone to
each other. Most of them were in chains, and their
clanking noise harmonized well with the gloomy sur-
roundings. It gave one the impression of being in
a den of human wild beasts, and judging from their
faces I should fancy most of them were but little
better. They all seemed pretty well free to do what
they pleased, and I noticed many were smoking
cigarettes or pipes. The principal occupation, whilst
I was there, seemed to be noting the new arrivals
as they individually made their appearance inside the
gate. In some cases the new-comers immediately
found friends among the crowd, in which event he
was introduced by them to the others, and the
mutual greetings were most effusive, and doubtless
sufficient to raise feelings of envy in the breasts of
younger prisoners standing by, and who were
unknown to criminal fame. I was told afterwards
that new-comers, if they are absolutely unknown to
any one in their cell, have to stand a sort of supper,
or bienvenue—pay their “footing,” as a matter of fact.
Fancy this sort of thing in an English prison I
naturally asked how a prisoner would manage if he
had no money. “He can always get enough for
that,” was the reply. How !


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 147
Whilst I was strolling about making notes and
sketches, a warder came up and asked me if I would
like to visit the building, and volunteered to show
me over it. Naturally I accepted the offer, and was
much interested, and I may say astonished, at all I
saw. There were three blocks of wooden buildings,
the windows of which were heavily grated; though
why there were bars I could not make out, for all
doors were unlocked, and the prisoners appeared to
be free to go and come as they pleased. It was more
like a large school-house than a prison. In the rooms,
or rather dormitories, the same liberty prevailed, as
there seemed to be no one to maintain discipline or
order; in fact, there was such a row in all of them
that the warder accompanying me had to call out
several times at the top of his voice in order to get
a little silence, as the moise was simply deafening.
The sleeping accommodation in all the rooms con-
sisted of the usual sloping wooden shelves fixed down
the centre of the room.
What astonished me most in the whole place was
the married prisoners' quarters; for in the large dor-
mitory there were at least two hundred men, women,
and children of all ages herded together indiscrimi-
nately. No words can fitly describe the scene. The
evil faces, the babel of voices, the crying of children,
the clanking of the men's chains, and, above all, the
indescribable stench which seems inseparable from
the Siberian prisons, all combined to make as hideous


148 . FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
an impression as could well be imagined. All round,
seated or standing, were little family parties, so to
speak. Tea was going on at the moment I entered, and
the women naturally were in their element; in fact,
it was more like a picnic of the lower orders than
a prison scene. The heat of the place, which appeared
to be without ventilation, was as usual fearfully
oppressive, and many of the men and women were
in the very scantiest of attires, for decency did not
A “PriviligiERT,” or privileged PRIsonER.
appear to affect them much, and the sight of so many
poor little innocent children, in such foul surround-
ings, struck me as being particularly horrible.
We afterwards visited the room of a priviligiert,
or swell prisoner, who was too good to associate with
the ordinary horde of vulgar scoundrels, although
possibly he may have caused as much misery in his


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 149
time to his fellow-creatures as any of them. The
“gentleman’’ in this case, I heard, “wrote too well.”
He was in ordinary civilian attire, and looked a well-
dressed, gentlemanly fellow. His little son was with
him in the room he occupied, which was really not an
uncomfortable one, for there were two real beds in it,
with sheets, bedding, etc., washing appliances, look-
PEASANT Women selling Provisions to Prison ERs.
ing-glass, tea-things, plates, saucers, etc.—in fact, quite
a little ménage. He was sitting on the bed when I
entered, and my visit evidently did not seem to
please him much, for he immediately turned his back
on me and began muttering to himself. However,
I went in all the same and had a good look round,
and made a sketch of him in spite of his ungracious
reception.


150 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
On coming out of the prison I was surprised to
see quite a little crowd of peasant women with
baskets of bread, etc., gathered round a hole in the
outer wall, through which they were selling the pro-
visions to such fortunate prisoners who happened to
have a little money. It was a curious sight, and
well worthy of a sketch, I thought—the grimy hands
thrust out through the aperture, and in the back-
ground the mass of swarthy, evil countenances—a
subject worthy of Doré.
As I was driving back to town with my friend,
the conversation naturally turned on the scenes I had
just witnessed, and I asked him if no work was ever
done in the prisons. He then informed me that all
work, except such as wood-cutting, getting water, etc.,
is optional ; if the prisoners can find work and care
to take it they are at liberty to do so, as there are
specially reserved rooms for them to work in. Many,
he told me, made money by making cigarettes, at
which they were very clever, and naturally could
turn them out cheaper than they could be bought at
the shops. Being in want of some at the moment, I
thought it would not be a bad idea to get some made
by a prisoner, just out of curiosity. So the next day
I purchased some tobacco and paper, and went to the
ostrog (the regular prison, not the depôt) with a
friend to interpret for me. It seemed a usual sort of
proceeding, for the gaoler we spoke to about it said
immediately, “Morgenor” (it can be done), and


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 151
opening the large heavily ironed and barred door
leading into the courtyard, called out at the top
of his voice, “Paperossnik” (a cigarette-maker).
There was a clanking of chains, and in a few minutes
a miserable-looking wretch in prison clothes came
forward. I had only brought a little tobacco, so it
was not a big commission I had to give him. On
asking what they would cost, he replied that he
would make me a thousand for sixty kopeks (1s. 6d.),
that these few he would make me as a sample, and I
could give him what I chose for them. However,
the result, though not exactly a failure, was not a
success, as they were not particularly well made, and
I had strong reason to believe that at least a third of
the tobacco had been purloined, for I had got very
many less cigarettes than I ought to have received.
So much for convict labour in the prison itself. I
shall have occasion, in a subsequent chapter, to speak
about outdoor employment of the prisoners.
Of course, there are many political exiles living
in Krasnoiarsk, but most of them are time-expired
prisoners who cannot leave the district. At the
time of my visit several were employed as clerks,
and so forth, at the various Government offices; and,
as far as I could see or hear (and I had many oppor-
tunities for so doing), were not treated with the
severity one hears so much of in England. As a
matter of fact, there is a great deal more complaint
out of Siberia about the tyranny of officials than


152 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
there is inside it, and the average notions about
life there seems to me to be the outcome of entire
ignorance. I must say, however, that the Russian
officials take things too much au sérieuc. They
“drop upon " people for doing things which in
England would be laughed at and forgotten in
twenty-four hours. They don't believe in the safety-
valve principle, but maybe one official thinks that if
he doesn't take notice of a thing some other official
will, and probably report the first official into the
bargain. Everybody is watched, from a governor
downwards. You don't see the working of the
system, but it is there all the same. I will give
an instance in proof of this. There was a fancy-
dress ball at the club, and, as usual in Siberia, every-
body wore a mask. One young fellow thought he
would create a sensation—and he did. He appeared
as a sort of walking advertisement. On his breast
were written some of the advantages of life in
Siberia. On his back were the disadvantages, so
strongly worded that a police official tapped him
on the shoulder and requested him to step into a
private room. This he did, his mask was removed,
and it was found that he was a young student
at the Tomsk University. He was told to leave
the place, notwithstanding the indignation of the
other guests at the official's action. The official
reported the matter; there was telegraphing back-
wards and forwards; the culprit was finally sent


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 153
back to Tomsk, and I don't know what became
of him. Probably he is at this moment in solitary
exile in some out-of-the-way place. At any rate,
as every one at the ball agreed in conversation about
the affair, his life was practically ruined through
a freak which, in any country not under Russian
rule, would simply have been laughed at.
Local malefactors, whatever their offence, are first
taken before the chief of police (politcemeaster), who,
if the charge be only a petty one, disposes of it him-
self; if, however, it be of a grave nature it is sent for
trial at the high court of justice of the district. I
was informed that it goes very hardly indeed with a
liberated criminal exile if he is ever caught com-
mitting a felony in Siberia, for he has then but a
very slight chance of ever regaining his liberty. The
police court itself offered little of interest, being
merely a large room with a big table in it, at the head
of which sat the chief and all his officers. The
prisoners were brought in in charge of a soldier or a
warder, and stood about anywhere, for there was no
dock, and the proceedings, though novel, were not
interesting.
I had heard a good deal about the “night
refuges for the destitute,” which exist in all Siberian
towns, so was determined to visit one, although
at first it seemed likely to prove a difficult matter,
as my friends were not eager to go to such an
uninviting den, even in the interests of art. How-





154 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
ever, at last I persuaded one to accompany me late
one night. The refuge naturally was situated in the
poorest part of the city, and we had some difficulty
at first in finding it. It only consisted of two fairly
large rooms, lighted by a swinging lamp. The effect
was almost the same as in the prison, for there was
the same fearful heat and stench, the same crowd of
unkempt wretches, most of whom looked like old gaol-
birds. The only difference was that these two rooms
were simply packed to their utmost capacity, every
available corner being occupied, even to the floor
underneath the sloping shelf which served as the
sleeping-place—somuch so, in fact, that it was positively
difficult to get in without treading on some one's
face or body. As may be imagined, I hurried up with
my sketch as much as possible, for I was anxious to
get out into the open air again without delay. Be-
yond the sloping shelf no other “bedding” is supplied,
the men having to provide any further luxuries them-
selves; but the heating arrangements were so com-
plete that no coverings whatever were needed.
Besides the actual lodging, the men are given a mug
of tea and piece of bread for supper, and the same in
the morning for breakfast. Those who are known to
have a little money are charged five kopeks (1%d.) for
the lodging. Before leaving, I was permitted to
have a peep into the female dormitory, which was
comparatively empty, for I only saw three miserable
old hags in their “beauty sleep.”


ºf
---


-
-
waTCHMAN ON DUTY IN FIRE ToweR, KRASNOLARSK.
[To face p. 155.


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 155
As in most Siberian towns where wood is principally
used in the construction of the houses, the fire brigade
forms a most important feature in the municipal
arrangements. All over the city are to be seen large
and in many cases handsome watch-towers, in which
watchmen are always stationed, with a big bell close
at hand to give the alarm when necessary; whilst
below several manuals are in constant readiness with
a supply of warm water during the winter, to avoid
risk of its freezing.
The theatre is really quite an imposing building,
and rendered more so by being situated in the
centre of an immense open space. Performances
take place in it three times a week during the
winter, and, judging from the way they are patronized,
histrionic art is evidently well appreciated here.
Taking it all in all, therefore, I found Krasnoiarsk
a very interesting place, and well worth the six weeks'
stay I made in it; in fact, I was quite sorry to leave it.
*


156 FROM THE ARCTION OCEAN
CHAPTER XV.
--
MY JOURNEY FROM KRASNOIARSK TO IRKUTSK.
My servant Matwieff—The Great Post Road—The post-houses—
Tea caravans—Curious effect of road—Siberian lynch law
—Runaway convicts—A curious incident—The post courier
–An awkward accident—Arrival at Irkutsk.
TRAVELLING in Siberia is evidently
altered very much for the better
during the last three years, for my
experiences on the Great Post Road
were very different indeed to those
described by the author of a recent
book of travel in these parts. Per-
MY SERVANT.
haps, however, the fact of my doing
the journey during the winter may to a certain extent
account for it; but whatever the cause, the impres-
sions received are the same, and the eight days’ journey,
though certainly a somewhat tedious one, will remain
in my memory as one amongst the many interesting
episodes of my Siberian wanderings. After all I had
read about the many difficulties and discomforts, not
to say dangers, of this long journey, I must confess
that it was not without certain misgivings that I at
last decided to make a move and to start from my


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 157
comfortable quarters in the Gostinnitza Gadaloff and
push on further East, in accordance with the route
I had planned out for myself. My numerous friends,
on learning this, were so unanimous in their advice
to me not to travel alone, in case of my being taken
ill on the road or meeting with an accident, that
I was at length persuaded, almost against my will,
to listen to them and take a servant with me ; and,
as will be seen, it was very fortunate I did so.
Once it was known I was in want of a servant,
I had no difficulty in finding men who were willing
to go with me to Irkutsk, even on the off chance
of my not requiring a servant when once there; in
fact, it was an embarras de richesses, and I had my
choice. The principal question was to find some one
who was accustomed to travelling. Luckily, I sud-
denly heard of an ex-sergeant of gendarmes who was
anxious to get to the capital, and who would be glad
to give his services as servant to me in return for
a “free passage.” The mere fact of his having been
in the Gendarmerie was in itself sufficient recom-
mendation, as only men of exceptionally good
character are admitted into this branch of the ser-
vice ; so without hesitation I decided on taking
him, and he eventually turned out to be the best and
most conscientious servant I have ever had ; he also
was the biggest, for he stood no less than 6 ft. 3 in.,
and was a typical fellow of his class. My journey
to Irkutsk was therefore une affaire arrangée, for


158 FROM THE ARCTIC, OCEAN
from the moment I arranged with Sergeant Matwieff
all trouble on my part ceased, for he simply took
charge of the arrangements as though he had travelled
with me for years, and all I had to do was to decide
when to start, and leave the rest to him, even to
packing my things, ordering the horses, and the host
of minor details inseparable from Siberian travel. It
is almost unnecessary to add that he spoke no
language but Russian, so our means of conversation
were very limited, and most of the time I had to
make him understand by means of pantomime.
At last my preparations were complete, and on
the evening of Sunday, January 25, I started towards
the next stage of my long journey, and shortly after
Krasnoiarsk, with its many pleasant associations, was
but a reminiscence of the past.
The road for some miles, after leaving the town,
lay along the ice in the very centre of the river
Yenisei. As it was a very bright moonlight night,
the effect was novel and beautiful, the track was
smooth and level, and the horses went along at their
top speed. I was gradually lulled into a deep sleep,
and woke to find the first stage of twenty-nine versts
accomplished and the sledge in the post-yard of
Botoiskaya. The little village was slumbering; not
a light was to be seen in any of the windows; in
the post-house was the only sign of life. Looking
up the quaint street, which in the moonlight had a
weird appearance, with its tumbledown cottages, I


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 159
saw a most curious sight. The centre of the road
had exactly the appearance of being laid with railway
sleepers; as far as one could see, the long ridges in
the snow followed each other so regularly, that I
could not help asking what was the reason of so
cutting up the road. To my astonishment I was told
that these ridges were caused by the thousands of
horses of the caravans which had passed along the
road since the commencement of the winter. The
horses instinctively know that they can get a better
foothold by walking in each other's footsteps, and
fall into the habit of doing so almost mechanically.
I shortly after had the first of many opportunities
of noting this for myself, for presently a large tea
caravan came along, and I observed that it hardly
ever happened that a horse stepped out of the grooves,
so much so that the drivers strolling alongside seemed
to have very little to do, as the animals appeared to
know all that was expected of them.
This, my first sight of a caravan on the Great
Post Road, was but the forerunner of what we met
or passed both day and night almost without inter-
mission the whole way to Irkutsk. While many
were laden with European goods bound eastward,
most of them were coming from China with tea. So
great, in fact, was this traffic that I could not help
wondering where all this immense quantity of tea
can possibly go to, more especially when one comes
to consider that what comes to Europe by the Great


160 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
Post Road is only a small proportion of the annual
amount exported from China. The tea of China,
packed in bales of hide, is brought across the Gobi
desert by ox-waggons or by camels as far as Kiakhta,
the Russian frontier town, where it is transferred to
sledges or Siberian carts, according to the season,
and the long journey to Tomsk is then commenced,
a journey taking over two months. The same horses
go the whole way; but they are allowed to take
their own pace, and seldom do more than three miles
an hour. At Tomsk the tea is stored till the spring,
when it is taken by river steamer into Russia. Tea
brought overland is said to retain more of its original
flavour than that which, packed in lead, has made
a sea voyage, but the difference is probably so slight
that only an expert could detect it.
There are comparatively very few men in charge
of these immensely valuable consignments, which
often consist of as many as two hundred and
fifty sledges—one man to about seven horses as a
rule—and these at night take it in turns to keep
watch; for on the Great Post Road a peculiar form
of highway robbery exists: bales of tea are frequently
cut loose and stolen in the dark hours by thieves, .
who lurk around to take advantage of a driver dozing
on his sledge. The poor fellow then has to pay
dearly for his “forty winks,” as he has to make
good the loss out of his wages—a very serious matter,
considering the value of a large bale of tea. Last


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 161
year, I am informed, these thefts became so frequent
and the thieves so daring that at last the drivers
combined to have their revenge, and when on one
or two occasions they managed to catch a thief
flagrante delicto they actually lynched him in quite
a North-American Indian style. Bending a stout
birch sapling to the ground by means of a rope, they
fastened the back of the victim's head to it by the
hair, and then cut the rope, releasing the tree, which
immediately sprang back to its original position,
and the unfortunate wretch was literally scalped.
He was then left to his fate. It is probable that
a few examples of this kind will have as deterrent
an effect on intending thieves as on the victims
themselves. But to return to my narrative.
We had no difficulty in getting horses, and, after
a stoppage of twenty-five minutes, were rattling
merrily along the frost-bound highway. It was a
bitterly cold night, no less than 40 deg. below zero
(Réaumur), but till now I had not felt it much, as
the wind was at our backs. Unfortunately, a turn
in the road brought it right against us, and then I
felt such cold that in all my life I never experienced
any like it. Although I was buried in furs, and the
hood of the sledge down, there was no keeping it out.
Moustache, nostrils, and eyelashes were frozen hard,
and my dacha, where it came in contact with my
face, was one solid mass of ice, caused by my breath,
and to this my skin actually stuck.
M


162 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
The wonder to me was how the yemschiks stand
it as they do; but I suppose they get case-hardened
to it in time—frost-proof, in fact, for rolled up in
their sheepskins they seem impervious to tempera-
ture, taking it all as a matter of course. As to the
horses, although they were always so covered with
frost as to have the appearance of being thickly
coated with snow, they never seemed to mind it
a bit, and would keep up the same pace the whole
stage; standing afterwards in the post-yard as quiet
as sheep while their icy coats were, so to speak,
broken off with a primitive sort of curry-comb
attached to the handle of the driver's whip. Twenty-
five versts, or about two and a half hours of this sort
of temperature was quite enough at a stretch, as I
soon found, and the sight of the village boundary
fence was always a welcome sight as betokening the
end of another spell.
The novelty of sledge-travelling soon wears off,
especially on a road like this, where there is so little
to vary the eternal monotony of the dense forests
or rolling plains on either side of one. The same
dreary aspects seemed to repeat themselves over
and over again almost at every turn of the road,
whilst the various villages resembled each other so
much that it was at times hard to believe we were
not returning to the one we had just left. I do not
propose wearying you with a detailed account of the
forty-three stations between Krasnoiarsk and Irkutsk,


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 163
for a description of one, which I have already given,
suffices for all—so much so, in fact, that although I
tried hard to see something more to sketch, I could
discover nothing I had not already seen and sketched
on our journey up the Yenisei or in Yeniseisk or
Krasnoiarsk. Where, for instance, in France every
little “pays" has its individual character, so to
speak, here in Siberia from one end to the other of
this enormous continent all is the same, and if you
have studied one portion of it, you have studied all
(of course, with the exception of the aborigines, who
naturally differ according to their tribes). For my
own part, I can assert that I saw absolutely no
difference, either in the build of the houses, or the
dress or customs of the inhabitants, all the way from
Golchika, the tiny settlement on the tundras far
away within the Arctic circle, and Kiakhta, a distance
of nearly three thousand miles; and, from what I
hear, it is the same from the Urals to the Pacific.
It almost seems as though it had been ordained by
Imperial Ukase that all over this vast empire the
inhabitants should everywhere adopt the same
costumes and build and furnish their houses always
on the same pattern.
What strikes one most on the long stretches of
road is the total absence of isolated cottages or
farmhouses which so help to enliven a landscape
in Europe. Once beyond the fence which encircles
the limits of each village commune, all signs of


164 FROM THE ARCTION OCEAN
habitation and even cultivation instantly cease, and
no more are seen till the next commune is reached.
The road then passes through a big wooden gate,
with high posts on either side; just inside this is a
small sentry-box, in which a watchman is always
ARRIVAL AT A POST STATION.
stationed during the summer months to see that
the gate is kept closed, and so keep the cattle from
straying outside the boundary. (In the winter the
gate is always open.) In the distance one then sees
the long dreary stretch of village street, with the
green-roofed ostrog, or prison, and the public


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 165
granary standing out in relief against the dilapidated
wooden hovels. Everywhere, as a rule, there seems
an entire absence of human life. The post-house is
only distinguishable from the other houses by its
having black and white lamp-posts on either side
of the door, and the Russian coat-of-arms painted
on a board over it.
Of course there were flourishing villages here and
there, but so few. Kansk, Nijni Udinsk, Touloung,
and the large village of Koutoulik, are really the
only places worth mentioning in this long road. At
Touloung the streets were actually lighted up at
night. At these places, of course, the post-houses
were better furnished and looked after, but they
were but oases among the number of wretched and
uncomfortable ones; although I must in justice
admit that with only one or two exceptions they
were all as clean as soap and water could make
them; but then, soap and water does not restore
dilapidations or rebuild ramshackle places, unfortu-
nately, and many were very dilapidated indeed, and
scarcely worthy being called “Government post-
houses.”
The same ideas of ventilation evidently pre-
vail all over Siberia, for everywhere I found the
windows hermetically sealed, and in most instances
when the stove was in full blaze the atmosphere
was simply stifling, as may be imagined after it has
been confined in these stuffy rooms for the six long


166 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
winter months, and being breathed over and over
again by hundreds and hundreds of travellers.
However, à la guerre comme à la guerre, and in
the wilds of Siberia it would have been absurd to
expect to find European notions of sanitation.
With but one exception I had no difficulty what-
ever in getting horses at each station; in fact, in most
instances the fresh team was generally ready to start
before I was, so I could not complain about being kept
waiting. The one exception I refer to occurred at
Kansk, where I arrived unfortunately too late at night
to be able to look round this interesting and flourish-
ing little town, as I should have had ample time to
have done, for on reaching the post-house, the staroster
(as the postmaster is called) courteously informed me
that no horses could be had till three the next morn-
ing—six hours to wait. Luckily the waiting-room
was as clean and comfortable as one could have wished
it, so I decided to have supper at once and “turn in "
on the sofa for a few hours. A tin of Irish stew,
washed down (the Irish stew, not the tin) by a glass
or two of vodka and a cup of black coffee, seemed a
feast for a king after the hasty meals I had been
having since leaving Krasnoiarsk, so when I did turn
in an hour later it was to immediately fall into the
deep sleep which naturally follows when one has “got
outside” a square meal and one has a good digestion.
Although I had particularly asked the station-master
to call me as soon as the horses arrived, I suppose,


:





TO THE YELLOW SEA. 167
like the Irish servant in Lever's story, “he did not
like to knock too hard at the door for fear of waking
me;" for I was only awakened at eight o'clock the
next morning by the sun streaming into my eyes.
Still, I was not exactly sorry for the few hours I had
lost, as I had had a splendid rest, and after a good
sluice in a bucket of ice-cold water felt “fit as nine-
pence” (though why ninepence should be fit I know
not), and did ample justice to a good breakfast before
starting
Moreover, as it turned out, after leaving the town
we passed through some of the finest forest scenery
I have ever seen, and which it would have been a pity
to have missed, for there was really so little that was
interesting that I should have been sorry to have
passed any that was, during the night. Either the
big road, for some reason or other, was blocked, or
else the driver thought he knew a near cut; anyway,
we shortly after made a détour of several miles and
went straight across the forest itself by a rough sort
of track. It was a wild, desolate-looking place, the
trees meeting overhead causing a dim twilight which
considerably helped to heighten the effect—just the
sort of place one would not have been astonished
to meet a bear or a pack of wolves in ; in fact, I was
fondly hoping to see something and got my rifle
ready. But in the still mysterious depths of the dense
jungle no sign whatever of life was visible; over the
thick carpet of snow, the sledge glided noiselessly,


168 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
even the sound of horses' hoofs was muffled, and the
deadly silence of the surroundings was only broken
now and again by the subdued jingle of the duga
bells. I could not help thinking how serious it
would have been if an accident had occurred to the
sledge or horses just about here; for the “near cut”
was evidently not the usual road, as the whole length
of it we were entirely alone.
It must have taken us at least three hours to do
the next fifteen miles or so, for the track was so
narrow in places, and so blocked by abutting trees,
that at times it seemed doubtful whether the sledge
would pass at all, so tight a squeeze was it. How-
ever, at last we got through and out into the broad
daylight on the high-road again, when for a few
seconds the light seemed absolutely dazzling after the
semi-obscurity we had just left. Although we passed
through many miles of dense forest after this, we did
so on the regular road and in the full glare of the
midday sun, so my impressions were very different
to those received in the lonely track we had just
come through.
The next day or two were uneventful, and as there
was nothing new to see, the stoppages at the different
post-houses usually came as a pleasant break to the
the journey, and an excuse to get out of the sledge
and call for the samovar. By the way, talking of
samovars, it is really astonishing how quickly one
takes to the Russian way of drinking weak tea


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 169
without milk, boiling hot, out of a tumbler. There
is no doubt about it that one can appreciate the full
flavour of the tea better that way than as we drink it
in England, although to drink out of a cup appears
to me to be much more convenient than out of a
tumbler; and I am surprised the Russians don't
think so, for there is not the slightest doubt which is
the more practical.
An interesting incident occurred shortly after
leaving the village of Rasgonnaiaa. I had learnt at
the station that a large gang of prisoners had passed
a few days previously, so hurried on as much as
possible in the hope of overtaking it, and at any rate
seeing something which would break the monotony of
the journey. The road, which hitherto had passed
through forest-land, was now open on either side, and
for miles ahead the rolling, snow-covered plains
stretched, relieved, so to speak, only by the winding
road and its endless vista of telegraph-poles. During
the morning I had noticed that we were continually
passing rough-looking men on foot, hurrying along,
always in the same direction, as though on important
business. Now, in any other country than Siberia
such an occurrence would pass unnoticed, for “Shank's
pony” is a cosmopolitan beast, and among certain
classes generally the only means of locomotion. Here,
however, in the wilds of Siberia, a foot-traveller is an
extreme rarity outside a village. Hence my surprise.
At last it occurred to me to ask Matwieff if he could


170 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
tell me what these curious-looking men were, and
what they were doing on the road so far from a
village. Imagine my surprise when, without the
slightest hesitation, he told me they were bradiagga,
or runaway prisoners, from the parti on ahead. I
could scarcely believe it, so he suggested our stopping
the next one we met, and he would then convince
me of the truth of his statement. To him there was
evidently not so much novelty in the incident as to
me, for as an ex-gendarme he could probably “spot.”
a prisoner at a glance.
I had not long to wait, for in a short time there
appeared in the far distance another of these gentle-
men hurrying towards us. I thought it would not
be a bad idea to “take his photo,” so ordered the
yemschik to stop, and, getting out of the sledge,
waited till the fellow got up abreast of us. Matwieff
then called out to him to come over to where we
were, for he was on the far side of the road, which
(as is usual in Siberia) was of enormous width. The
fellow, in his anxiety to get along as quickly as
possible, had evidently not noticed that we were
stopping, for when he heard us call out to him and
he looked up and caught sight of us, a most curious
look came over his face, which we could not help
remarking. Whether it was the sight of my revolver
(which I always wore outside my coat) or the gen-
darme cap Matwieff had on, I cannot tell, but he
looked round wildly for a second over the snow-


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 171
covered plain as though meditating a “bolt;" then
realizing, perhaps, that he could not possibly get
away, he seemed to make up his mind, and came
slowly over towards us.
When he got close up we then saw that he was
simply trembling in every limb with fright, whilst
his mouth was quivering to such an extent that it was
positively painful to see such a picture of abject fear.
Although he was a great big hulking fellow, and had
an ugly looking cudgel under his arm, he was as
unnerved and cowed as a beaten dog, and evidently
expected us to immediately handcuff him and take
him back at the tail of the sledge to the parti he
had escaped from. The delight of the poor wretch
when he learnt that I only wanted to photograph him
was almost curious to witness, and he offered no
objection to my carrying out my fell purpose. Mat-
wieff then, to prove to me that the man really was as
he said, a bradiagga, coolly went up to him, and,
lifting up his sheepskin coat, lo and behold, under-
neath were his prison clothes, whilst hidden by his
high peasant boots were the ends of his chains still
attached to the anklets, which he had not yet had
time to remove. His head also, he showed me by
removing his cap, had been half shaved in the usual
convict manner. Whatever his crime, it was certainly
no business of ours to re-arrest him, so I took the
photo of him and then gave him a few kopeks for
standing. Before letting him go, out of curiosity


172 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
I asked him where he was going to. To my astonish-
ment he replied, “Moscow.” The idea of his setting
out, on foot, to accomplish over three thousand miles
home, in the depth of winter, struck me as being an
awful task to undertake.
At the next station, the staroster, on my mentioning
the incident, informed me that in the village they
were simply infested with runaway convicts after a
convoy had passed, and that at night the barns and
outhouses were always occupied ; he had known as
many as a dozen men sleeping in the bath-house of the
station. (The baths in a Russian village are generally
in wooden outbuildings.) The peasants, he further
informed me, so far from interfering with the
fuyards, or thinking even of giving them up,
supply them on the quiet with bread and broken
victuals, so that, at any rate, there is no fear of them
dying of hunger within the village commune. As
a matter of fact, the men themselves know that they
can always reckon on something to eat in every place
they have to pass through, and it has grown to be
such a regular custom, this providing of food for
them, that they take it as a matter of course.
The wind, which hitherto had somewhat lulled,
now recommenced with renewed force. Fortunately,
however, owing to the road going in a different
direction, it was at our backs; for so hard did it blow,
that the country presented the effect almost of steam-
ing under it owing to the driving particles of snow,





THE IMPERIAL MAIL. [To face p. 173.


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 173
and one could only see a few yards ahead through
the sort of white fog enveloping everything, and we
should have doubtless had an unpleasant time if
we had been going against it.
I was much struck with the scarcity of travellers
we met, either on the road or in the stations, for only
on two or three occasions did we meet any one or
find the waiting-room occupied. At one place the
Imperial Mail, bound for Irkutsk, came up while we
were there—half a dozen of the shabbiest and most
ramshackle of sledges, in charge of an equally seedy
and shabby individual in a dirty old sheepskin coat,
and with an enormous revolver in his belt. I could
not help feeling somewhat disappointed, for from
what I had previously read I had expected to see
a dashing courier, resplendent in green and gold, and
armed to the teeth, so had my sketch-book in readi-
ness as soon as I heard that the mail had arrived.
At another station I found the room occupied by
a family, consisting of a lady and gentleman, and no
less than four children and a maid. By some accident
I discovered that the lady spoke German, so we had
quite a long chat together. She informed me that
they had come straight away from far Vladivostock,
and were going to St. Petersburg, a journey which,
from start to finish, would probably take them ten
weeks, that is, if they stopped nowhere on the road.
Her husband, who was a Government official, she told
me, had been in bad health for some time past, and


174 FROM THE ARCTION OCEAN
had been recommended to go to St. Petersburg to get
the highest of medical advice. This is the longest
journey I ever heard of “to see a doctor.” I saw
them start again shortly after, and although there
were so many of them, they had such a huge sledge
that they all seemed to pack into it quite comfortably.
You may imagine how refreshing, so to speak, it
was, after the sort of wilderness we had come through,
to find that the next station, Touloung, was quite
a busy little town, its many and well-built streets
actually lighted up, whilst several important-looking
shops and large houses helped to give quite a lively
appearance to the place. The post-house itself was
also quite “up to" the town, and not only boasted
of several large and well-furnished rooms, but also
a big apartment, most handsomely decorated, in
which, I was informed, the Governor of Irkutsk
held receptions when he had occasion to visit the
town. Touloung, though an old town, was certainly
one of the prettiest and most flourishing I had passed
through, and my only regret was that it was night
when we got there, for I should like to have sketched
some of the bits I saw, notably the beautiful house
of the merchant, Mr. Shokounoff, which stands exactly
opposite the post-station, for it struck me as being
a splendid specimen of Russian architecture. After
doing a little shopping, and a look round, and a
“feed,” once more I got under weigh.
The next few stations were wretchedly uncomfort-


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 175
able, or anyway they seemed so, perhaps out of
contrast to the nice one we had just left; so there
was little temptation to loiter in them longer than
was absolutely necessary whilst waiting for the fresh
horses. At Tiretskaya, where we had to cross the
Oka, the road went along the centre of the river
on the ice for several miles, and the high wooded
banks on either side gave it a most peculiar and
striking appearance, not unlike a railway cutting.
The next place of interest we came to was the
large village of Koutoulik (or, rather, small town, for
it contains over eleven hundred inhabitants). The
post-house here was without exception the smartest
on the whole road. The waiting-room, which was
really well-furnished, was not only full of plants and
flowers, but actually had pictures on the walls, not
the usual cheap, religious ones, but good oleographs;
whilst to add to the good impression caused by these
attempts at luxury, I learnt that there was a “real
dinner” ready if I cared to take of it. You may
imagine I jumped at it after living on tinned food
for nearly a week. The wife of the staroster had
evidently been a professed cook in her time, judging
from the result and the way I was served. After
dinner I lit my pipe and had a stroll through the
village, whilst Matwieff was looking after the horses.
The streets presented so lively and animated an
appearance that I spent more time than I had
intended to, wandering about in search of subjects.
**
* *


TO THE YELLO W SEA. 177
the sledge turned completely over into a huge drift
of snow by the side of the road. The luggage was
so firmly wedged in that it barely moved, and both
Matwieff and I were also so firmly boxed in that we
found ourselves lying on our sides completely help-
less. Fortunately a large caravan was coming along
at the moment, and the men, seeing our predica-
ment, immediately hurried up and soon righted the
sledge again. The horses, I forgot to add, stopped
at once as soon as they felt the resistance offered
by the deep snow. This little misadventure was
evidently a usual occurrence to them, and also to the
driver, who turned up unhurt and smiling a few
seconds after, and soon we were off again as fast as
eWer.
For the moment I thought we had got off scot
free, for the sledge was uninjured, and neither
Matwieff nor I felt any ill effects from the spill. A
few stations further on, however, when going to get
out of the sledge I felt a nasty pain in my right
ankle, and found, on trying to walk, that my leg was
so stiff I could not use it. Here was a pretty go
I was evidently in for a bad sprain, and I knew what
that meant. Luckily Matwieff was an old soldier
in every sense of the word, and rose to the occasion,
for without the slightest hesitation he insisted on
my not moving, and also on his putting me on a
snow compress. In the mean time it was decided
that we should hurry on to Irkutsk, which was now
N


178 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
only some forty versts off, without any unnecessary
delay. In spite, however, of the cold compress, the
pain in my foot, probably aggravated by the move-
ment of the sledge, increased to such an extent that
I was in positive agony when at last we came in
sight of our destination, and the many golden cupolas
and minarets of the capital of Eastern Siberia stood
out clear and defined as a picture against the bright
morning sky. - *
The scene was a beautiful one, and I could not
help enjoying it in spite of the acute pain I was
suffering. Our road lay right across the frozen river
Angara, “the most beautiful river in the world,” as
it has been called. It was a Sunday morning, and
browds of gaily dressed peasants on foot and in
sledges were making their way towards the city in
the brilliant sunshine. The air resounded with the
merry ring of sledge bells, whilst the many quaint
costumes and curious conveyances gave an aspect of
gaiety and life to a scene the like of which I had
not yet witnessed in Siberia. My only regret was
that owing to my being unable to move I could not
get out of the sledge to make a sketch or take a
photograph. However, I promised myself not to lose
sight of the subject, and to return on the very first
occasion when my foot would allow me. A few
minutes afterwards the driver drew up outside a
large triumphal arch standing at the entrance to the
city and removed the duga bells before passing


TO THE YELLO W SEA. 179
through, as nowhere in Siberia are these allowed
except on the high-road.
My eight days' tedious journey was at last ended,
and it was with a veritable feeling of relief that I
found myself passing through the broad, well-built
streets, with the prospect of soon being once again
in a comfortable and well-appointed hotel.


InkUTsk.
CHAPTER XVI.
IRKUTSK.
Unpleasant experiences at hotel—Hospitality of Mr. Charles
Lee—First impressions of the city.
I WAS much disappointed to find, on reaching the
principal hotel, the Moskovskaia Podvorić, that its
glories, of which I had heard so much, were things
of the past, and that as a hotel it no longer existed.
True, the imposing three-storied building still re-
mained, but under a new designation, for it is now
the head-quarters of the Irkutsk military staff, and
is known as the Etat Major of the city. A few
chambres meublées in the upper stories are all that


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FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN TO THE YELLOW SEA. 181
remain of what was, two years ago, the best hotel in
Siberia. I afterwards learnt that its failure was
owing to its having been got up on far too grand a
scale for the place, and that its promoters had lost a
“pot of money” over it while it was open. Of
course there were many other hotels, so I left the
matter in the hands of the yemschik, for my foot
was so painful that I felt absolutely indifferent as to
where or how I was lodged, so long as I could get
out of the sledge and lie down quietly somewhere.
But it was evidently the height of the season in
Irkutsk and the city crammed, for everywhere I
was told they were “full.” At last, however, after
a lot of driving about, I found a place where they
had one room just vacant. It was a really smart
and imposing-looking hotel from outside, and quite
a “find,” as I imagined—till I got inside the build-
ing, when I found myself in one of the dirtiest places
of its kind I had yet seen in Siberia. The contrast
between the exterior and the interior was simply
startling. Much, however, as I was disgusted with
it, I was so sick of hunting about for lodgings that I
determined to put up with it for a short time; at
any rate, till my foot was better. With the help of
Matwieff I therefore made myself as comfortable as
I could on two chairs (for I did not like the look of
the sofa), and composed myself for “forty winks”
whilst waiting for the “something to eat” which I
had ordered, for the accident to my foot had not


182 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
interfered with my appetite. But I found it im-
possible to have a nap, on account of certain strange
noises round the room. At first I could not make
out what they were occasioned by, but I soon dis-
covered after a slight inspection. The wall-paper,
which was stretched over a wooden foundation, did
not touch the wood everywhere, and the curious noise
was produced by myriads of blackbeetles, cock-
roaches, and other vermin running up and down the
wall and in and out of holes they had eaten in the
paper. This cheerful discovery decided me at once
to clear out of the place, and chance finding some-
thing better elsewhere. -
Suddenly an idea occurred to me. I had a letter
of introduction to a Mr. Charles Lee, an English
engineer living in Irkutsk, a brother of the unfor-
tunate man who lost his life on our way up the
Yenisei, so I sent this letter to him, with a note
telling him of my accident, and asking if he could
recommend me some other hotel to go to. My
good luck had not quite deserted me, for in a few
minutes came back a message saying he would him-
self be round to see me directly, and shortly after he
arrived. On seeing my helpless condition, this good
Samaritan insisted on my immediately leaving the
hotel and going to stay at his house, to be nursed
till my foot was well; and, so as to ensure my not
refusing, he gave orders for my luggage to be forth-
with removed. In a very short time I was in a snug


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 183
room, surrounded by every comfort; so, although the
doctor said I should have to remain indoors and not
move for a week, I felt that I should be in luck's way
if my lines were always cast in such pleasant places.
Under kind nursing my injured ankle got rapidly
well, so much so that I was soon able to get about
again, and with the assistance, though much against
the wish, of my hospitable friend, find convenient
lodgings in the city. So it was a further proof of
“all's well that end's well.”
Containing forty thousand inhabitants, the capital
of Eastern Siberia covers an enormous extent of
ground, being nearly two miles in each direction—
the principal street, or Bolshoi Oulitza, itself over
a mile in length. My first impressions on walking
up this noble thoroughfare were very different indeed
from what I had anticipated, for it was hard to
realize how near one was to the Chinese frontier, and
how far from a railway; the whole scene was one of
absolutely European character, and reminded me not
a little of many capitals I have visited. It was quite
a relief, after the desolate look of the streets at Kra-
snoiarsk and Yeniseisk, owing to the apparent absence
of shops, to see here the handsome buildings with
large plate-glass windows, in which were displayed
every description of European goods; and my sur-
prise was the more natural, for, from what I had
read, I was led to believe that nowhere in Siberia
would I find the streets enlivened by the shop dis-


184 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
plays which give so much life and character to a
place. But what astonished me most pleasantly in
this far-away Siberian city was to see the fair sex
dressed in the very latest of Parisian fashions, for I
saw costumes in the Bolshoi Oulitza which would
have looked smart even in Bond Street or the Rue de
la Paix, and, as added to which I don't think I was
ever in a place which for its size could boast of
more pretty faces, the effect on a bright sunny after-
noon may be imagined.
Irkutsk is not nearly so cold a place as Krasnoiarsk,
for, according to Keane, the mean winter temperature
is only minus 4 deg. Fahr., and the summer temperature
equal to that of Melbourne, and considerably higher
than that of Paris. Of course I was particularly
fortunate in visiting Irkutsk in the very height of
the “season,” for, as is the case all over Siberia, and, I
believe, Russia also, the time to see “life” is during the
winter months, when the rich and fashionable classes
are in town, and all sorts of festivities are going on.
As at Krasnoiarsk, I found “society” here abso-
lutely European in its character, for most of the
wealthiest people annually pass several months in the
West, so are quite au courant with all that is going
on in the world of pleasure, and manage to convey
their impressions back to their Siberian palaces in the
shape of luxuries and extravagances of every sort.
Amongst the many hospitalities I was shown I had
the pleasure of dining one evening at the house of


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 185
Mr. Soukatchoff, the Mayor of Irkutsk, one of the
richest and most important men of the city. His
magnificent house, with its large picture-gallery (in
which are over two hundred and fifty examples of
An irruTsk beauty.
the best known of continental artists), its immense
library, and its priceless collection of curiosities from
every part of the world, made my visit to this gentle-
man a sort of “artistic treat”—a treat which was in


186 FROM THE ARCTION OCEAN
no way spoilt by the very excellent dinner he gave
us, and the interesting people I was introduced to,
many of whom spoke French and German fluently,
ENTRANCE hall of MILLIONAIRE gold-MINE owner's house, IRRUTSR.
and some of them English also. Here, as elsewhere
in Siberia, on every occasion when I have dined out,
either in Irkutsk, Krasnoiarsk, or Yeniseisk, the


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 187
general “tone” and arrangements were delightful.
I was also fortunate enough to be present at a big
ball given by the millionaire, M. de Sievers, and I
doubt very much if the most brilliant “crush” of
a London season could present a more magnificent
spectacle than did this ball—for the governor-
general, with his party, and the head-quarters staff
officers, were present in full uniform, blazing with
orders and decorations, and the rooms were crowded
with as smart a crowd of people as the most fas-
tidious London dancing man could have desired. The
“floor” and the music were both excellent. In the
gallery of the ball-room was stationed the regimental
band, while, by the fountain in the huge winter-
garden, which was beautifully illuminated with
quaint Chinese lanterns, the town string-band played
all the evening. It was like being in dreamland to
wander, with some pretty girl on one's arm, through
the exotic shrubberies, and my thoughts were carried
far away from cold Siberia, to the sunny south of
France and to gay Monte Carlo. I should have been
sorry to have missed seeing this dance, for it did
more towards giving me an insight into Irkutsk
society than all else.
Since the disastrous fire in Irkutsk in 1879, when
almost the entire town was burnt to the ground, it
has been forbidden to build any but stone or brick
houses in the principal streets, so the result is broad
thoroughfares, with lofty buildings of imposing archi-


188 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
tectural pretensions on either side, which would not
disgrace any Western capital. For its size, I do not
think there is any city in the world which can boast
of more public institutions than Irkutsk. On first
driving through the city this was the characteristic
STREET SCENE, IRRUTSK.
feature which struck me, for everywhere, almost in
every street, was some important public edifice, many
of the institutions being, I was informed, the result
of private munificence. I had often read of these
monuments as erected by Siberian millionaires more


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 189
to satisfy their personal vanity and love of osten-
tation than out of any true charitable or public spirit
—rather as a means of proving to the vulgar horde
what wealth they really possess. Whether or no this
is the case, of course it is impossible to say; but, at any
rate, the resultis a conglomeration of public institutions
which, considering the size of the place, could not be
rivalled anywhere, I fancy. A brief list of them, in
proof of my statement, may be of interest, as giving an
idea of the importance of this distant Siberian city.
Of public schools there are no less than nineteen,
all under the supervision of a Government Educational
Committee.
Then there are six hospitals—namely, three town
hospitals; a foundling hospital, on the usual Russian
system ; a military hospital, and a madhouse.
Of “homes” for children there are at least four ;
three asylums for the aged and infirm; a monastery
for men and one for women; a convict and a civil
prison ; a geographical institute; a large observatory
(with an English telescope); and two clubs—one
military, the other for merchants—making a total of
over forty important public institutions for a popu-
lation of less than forty thousand.
Of the handsome churches, of which there are no
less than twenty-two, besides two cathedrals, many
were also presented to this lucky city by its
millionaire inhabitants, who, when they decide to
spend their money, do so in no parsimonious manner,


190 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
as is evidenced by the result. The monastery of
St. Innocent, a short distance from the city, is as
beautiful a specimen of Italian architecture as one
could see anywhere, and cost its donors, several rich
merchants, I don't know how many million roubles.
It is not only in Irkutsk, however, that one finds
such proofs of great private munificence, for I learn
that the magnificent cathedral of Krasnoiarsk was
presented to the city by a rich man who made his
millions out of vodka!
Irkutsk, being the seat of the Government of
Eastern Siberia (a district equal in size to the half
of Europe), is naturally well stocked with officials of
all sorts and grades, the governor-general and civil
governor having each no less than three remplaçants.
Considering what an important centre Irkutsk is, I
was surprised to learn that it was only garrisoned
by one battalion of 1000 soldiers and one sotnia
(nominally 100, but actually 150) of Cossacks; so the
energies of the military governor are not overtaxed.
The Chinese frontier district comes within the govern-
ment of the Trans-Baikal and Amour provinces.
The police arrangements struck me as being
particularly good. In the daytime mounted men
are continually patrolling the streets to prevent
any congestion of the traffic—a very necessary
measure, considering the reckless manner in which
Siberians drive. At night there is a curious and
truly Eastern custom still in vogue in this important


[To face p. 190.
A COSSAck.








an irrkutsk POLICEMAN.
[To face p. 191.


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 191
city; watchmen parade the streets, continually agi-
tating a peculiar sort of knocker which emits a sound
not unlike that of the rattle our policemen used to
be provided with. What is the reason of adhering
to this primitive custom I have been unable to learn.
Perhaps Siberian thieves are known to be nervous,
and this arrangement frightens them, and deters them
from contemplated misdeeds. Certainly the watch-
men themselves would not have that effect on any-
thing but a very old woman or a young child, for
they were usually aged and decrepit fellows, who
looked as though they ought to have been at home
and in bed instead of out all night. Fortunately the
Irkutsk streets are safe enough during the dark hours.
|
THE MUSEUM, IRRUTSK.


THE RECREATION GROUND, IRRUTsk PRIsoN.
CHAPTER XVII.
PRISON LIFE IN SIBERIA—continued.
The Irkutsk prison—Comparative liberty of prisoners—Incon-
gruities of prison life—The “shops”—Prison artists.
THERE was always so much to see and do in Irkutsk,
that the five weeks I spent there were fully occupied.
The prison life of Siberia has always interested me
highly, for I had read so much of it before coming
to the country that I never missed an opportunity
of seeing as much of it as possible. One of my first
excursions, therefore, was to the gaol here. As at
Yeniseisk and Krasnoiarsk, the officials were polite-





- - - ---
- -------- - -
MARitied prisoners WAITING TO BE served WITH NEW CLOTlies on Anhiwal, A.T
The Prison AT inkUTRK. [To face p, 103


FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN TO THE YELLOW SEA. 193
ness itself, and although the ostrog here is a really
important one, containing as it does no less than
twelve hundred prisoners (owing to the recent burning
of the Alexandroffsky prison), I experienced not the
slightest difficulty in being shown all there was to be
seen. The authorities offered me every assistance in
their power, and no secret whatever was made of
it ; the governor-general of Irkutsk, to whom my
mission as a special artist and correspondent was well
known, even going so far as to send me a courteous
message, saying that he would be pleased to let me
See all I wished of the prison life, and hoped that
I would only write the exact truth about it ! So I
spent a long morning there, walking round with the
director, the doctor, and other officials, and saw and
sketched as much as I wished, and only had to ask
to be told all I wanted to know.
What struck me most in the internal arrangements
was the comparative liberty that existed inside the
vast building; for, with the exception of a few
prisoners in solitary confinement, all seemed free to
roam about in the corridors or the large quadrangle
to their hearts' content; and although a warder with
a large bunch of keys accompanied us on our round,
in no case did he find occasion to use them, for all
the doors were unlocked. . I was informed that it is
only at night the prisoners are locked in. The system
is certainly a curious one. Of course the men in the
“solitary" cells were not allowed this sort of liberty.
O


194 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
The description I have given of the Yeniseisk prison
will almost suffice for the Irkutsk one as well, with
the exception that the various “halls,” or “dormi-
tories,” there were infinitely better than those here,
which—probably on account of their overcrowded
state—were in a filthy condition, and little better
than human pigsties. Every spot was occupied, and
the stench was awful in consequence, for this is an
old prison as compared with that at Yeniseisk. I was
much astonished to see dogs, cats, and even pigeons
and doves in some “halls,” and on inquiry was in-
formed that prisoners are allowed their “pets,” and
that each crowd had its special and distinctive
favourites, fed out of the general “mess” It was
quite touching to see some hulking ruffian loafing
about in the sunshine with a tiny kitten in his arms,
or to hear the cooing of turtle-doves in some gloomy
recess of a filthy cell. Although these incongruities
of prison life struck me as being very extraordinary,
they passed unnoticed by my companions, who were
surprised when I drew their attention to them and
observed how much more severe the English prison
system is.
After going the round of the “halls” we next
visited the workshops. As I told you in a previous
chapter, work in a Siberian prison is purely optional;
a man can be as lazy as he likes, or else he can set to
and earn a little money at his particular trade, if he
has one, and such work is required. There are two


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 195
kinds of work permitted by the Government—work
in the prison itself in the various workshops provided
for the different trades, and outdoor work away from
the prison. In the Irkutsk prison almost every
trade was not only represented but well employed
also, for in many of the workshops I was informed
the men were so busy with orders on hand that for
the moment they could undertake no more. All the
work being carried out was for townspeople. Of
the money thus earned, a certain percentage goes
to the Government, and the rest is divided equally
among the men of the atelier.
We visited all the “shops,” and it was quite re-
freshing to see the men hard at work, and working
cheerfully together—as well they might, considering
that it is to their mutual advantage to do so. They
were working evidently under no restraint whatever,
for I noticed no guards about. I was told that one
could get almost anything made here—for in the
“shops” were tailors, hatters, bootmakers, smiths,
locksmiths, carpenters, cabinet-makers, cigarette-
makers, jewellers, engravers, and even artists; for in
the prison, at the time I visited it, were two men
convicted of uttering false banknotes, and who,
having artistic proclivities, passed their time in paint-
ing—the one, portraits from photographs; the other,
bons Dieua, or the sacred pictures so dear to the
Greek Church. I saw the portrait-painter at work in
the same room as the cigarette-makers, and much out


196 FROM THE ARCTIO OCEAN
of place here did the easel and canvas look, almost
as much so as the artist himself, in his prison garb,
with a large palette and bunch of brushes and mahl-
stick in his hand. The fellow spoke German fluently,
so we had a talk together, as he was not at all
reticent, and did not seem to feel his position a little
bit. He informed me that he always had as much
work to do as he could possibly get through, so he
never found the time hang heavily on his hands.
This work—which, by the way, was very indifferent—
I further learnt, was mostly for local photographers.
The other “artist,” whom we subsequently visited,
was quite a “swell,” for he was in solitary confine-
ment, and had been permitted to fit up his small cell
quite as a studio. There were shelves on the walls
full of half-completed pictures, a lot of the usual
paraphernalia of art lay about, while in one corner
hung a large framed oil-painting, a copy of a cele-
brated picture I knew well through the recently pub-
lished photogravures of it in London—a beautiful
composition, and looking strangely incongruous in so
gruesome and dismal a place, for the only light
entered by a small, heavily grated window high up
near the ceiling. This gentleman, who seemed quite
as busy as the portrait-painter, was, however, quite a
different character, and as reticent and moody as the
other was talkative, for when the director asked him
if he did not speak French or German so that I could
ask him a few questions, he curtly replied that he


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TO THE YELLOW SEA. 197
had forgotten whether he ever did or not, for he was
now a “number,” no longer a man. I afterwards
learnt that both these men, though convicted, were
not as yet sentenced, and that probably they would.
be sent for an indefinite number of years to hard
labour in one of the Government mines, and that it
was only pending their sentence that they were
allowed to go on with their painting, though, my
informant added, with a smile, they would probably
be able to do a little even at the mines if they
behaved themselves |
With so much labour of all sorts to be got almost
for the asking, it may be imagined how exploitée the
prison is by local tradesmen, who thus get their work
done by these “unfortunates” at probably less than a
third of what it would cost them if they employed
town labour. I got a large double brass seal made,
and engraved at both ends, for less than 2s. 6d., and
then, when it was finished, the governor ordered the
prisoner who had made it to engrave my initials on
my stick into the bargain, which the fellow did with-
out a word of grumbling. He looked very grateful,
however, when I slipped a few extra kopeks into his
hand afterwards.
The forged banknote which I give in facsimile was
the work of a prison artist. All its elaborate pen-
and-ink work represents when complete only the sum
of five roubles (10s.). Yet for this small amount a
long term of imprisonment was risked 1 (and got).


198
FROM THE ARCTION OCEAN
CHAPTER XVIII.
PRISON LIFE IN SIBERIA—continued.
Outdoor employment of prisoners—A chat with an employer
of convict labour—The “convict's word ”—An interview
with a celebrated murderess—The criminal madhouse—
Political prisoners in solitary confinement — I get per-
mission to paint a picture in one of the cells—End of my
visits to the prison.
OUTDOOR employ-
ment away from
the prison is often
granted to prisoners
who have been re-
marked for special
good conduct, and
they are drafted off
either to Govern-
ment or private
works, such as salt
or iron workings.
Those sent to private works are thus rewarded for
exceptionally good behaviour whilst in prison; they
get well paid whilst thus employed, and they work


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 199
-

side by side with free men, receiving the same pay,
and enjoying the same allowances, the only difference
being that of course they cannot leave of their own
accord. The pay struck me as being exceptionally
good, for it averages twenty-five roubles (£3) per
month for foremen, and ranging down to four roubles
for ordinary labourers. Besides this pay each man
receives eighty pounds of flour for himself, and if
married forty for his wife, and the same amount for
each child from the day of its birth till it is thirteen
years of age. Eight roubles per year are also allowed
for boots and gloves. Housing is provided by the
owners of the works, but the convicts may if they
choose live apart on the works at their own expense.
At the Government works (not the hard-labour ones)
it is very different, for although it is a distinct rise
in the prisoner's position to be sent to them, the pay
is very poor indeed, being only five kopeks (a little
over one penny) per day, and the men are always
under the supervision of convoy soldiers. There is
no military guard over men working at private works.
I had an interesting interview with the owner of
some salt works who largely employs convict labour.
He told me that he would far rather employ convicts
than ordinary labourers, as they were “more reliable.”
If a convict gave his “convict's word” to do or not to
do a thing, as the case might be, he could rely on
his never breaking it, for it would be contrary to the
recognized code of prison honour. For instance, he


200 FROM THE ARCTIO OCEAN
told me, it would often happen, when the gang he
had ordered arrived, the staroster of it would inform
him that such and such prisoners were unreliable,
as they had declared their intention of running away
at the first opportunity. “But how about the
others?” he would ask; “for it would be awkward to
find one's self shorthanded at a critical moment.”
“Oh, the others,” would reply the staroster, “have
given me their ‘convict's word’ to remain and do their
best, so you can rely on them.” This system of thus
utilizing convict labour is undoubtedly part of a huge
scheme for gradually colonizing this vast continent,
as round the works small villages gradually spring up.
After visiting the men's quarters we went to the
portion reserved for the fair sex, which, beyond being
very crowded, offered but little of novelty or interest.
Just as we were turning to leave the building, how-
ever, the doctor said, “Let’s go and see how the
baroness is ; ” so we went back and down a corridor,
at the end of which was a door by itself. Before
going in I was informed that this was the cell of the
famous poisoner, Sofie de Willup, Baroness de Sachs,
whose trial, with that of her lover, a groom, some
years ago in St. Petersburg, for murdering her second
husband by slow poison, was a cause célèbre, for it
then transpired that her first husband had also died
in some mysterious manner. The case was proved
to the hilt, I was told, and in England her fate, the
gallows, would have been inevitable; but in Russia it


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 201
was different, for she was a scion of a noble, and
wealthy house, and her relatives moving in the
highest circles. Still, she could not entirely escape
punishment of some sort, and she was eventually sent
to Siberia for life, nominally to “hard labour at the
mines,” where a poor and unknown woman would
undoubtedly have gone; but the governor of the
province she was consigned to was a relative of hers,
so she naturally never
reached her destina-
tion, but remained in
the Irkutsk prison as
“an invalid.” Her
lover, being a nobody,
was sent to work in
chains for the re-
mainder of his life
in Saghalien, and is
doubtless there still.
In response to a
discreet knock by the
governor, a female
voice from within bade us enter. Imagine my
astonishment, after having been told all the lady
was, to find myself in a small but comfortably
furnished room, with flowers and birds in cages in
the window, and books and other “luxuries” lying
about in profusion; whilst in a cupboard I noticed
the usual extensive wardrobe of a stylish woman.
THE Barton ESS.


202 FROM THE ARCTIO OCEAN
On a carved bedstead in one corner of this unique
prison “cell” lay the invalid, a healthy, not unpre-
possessing young woman of about thirty years of
age; she was dressed in ordinary walking costume,
and on hearing our knock had evidently hastily
thrown herself on the bed and covered herself with
a smart travelling rug, so as to carry out fully her
invalid condition. The whole look of the place was
certainly the most hollow mockery of justice I had
ever seen, and I could not help involuntarily con-
trasting her surroundings with those of the poor
wretches in other parts of the building, whose crimes
were probably not half as bad as hers. The lady
languidly gave us her hand to shake, and in reply to
the doctor's question as to how “Madame la baronne”
felt, said she felt a little better.
“By the way,” said the governor, “you speak
English, or French, or German, don't you, Baronne **
“Oh yes,” she replied, “all three.”
So I was formally introduced, and had my first
conversation with a real live murderess. It was
rather embarrassing at the commencement, for I
hardly knew what to say; but she helped me out of
the difficulty by asking in very fair English how
dear old London looked, and how long it was since
I had left it, etc., and we ended by having quite
a cosmopolitan chat together, first in English, then in
French, and gradually drifting into German, as, so to
speak, we wandered about Europe, talking of the


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 203
different places we knew, whilst I meanwhile was
making a rough sketch of the room and its occupant.
She told me, to my surprise, that she hoped to be
free in a couple of months, when, although she would
not be allowed to leave Siberia, she could live on her
means (which, I believe, were ample) in some desig-
nated village or town. “After six years of ‘prison'
life,” she added, “any place will be an agreeable
change for me.”
On leaving the baroness the doctor suggested that
the criminal madhouse might interest me, so we all
adjourned to a neighbouring building standing within
a high stockade. The unfortunate inmates were
evidently well looked after, for the place was as warm
as toast and as clean as possible. There were no
dangerous madmen there when we visited it, so the
padded rooms were empty. It gave one more the
impression of a hospital than a madhouse. As we
entered, a wretched-looking little individual rushed
up to the director and loudly complained about his
being still detained there because the governor-
general of Irkutsk refused to pay him what he owed
him. The director agreed with him that it was very
unfair his being there under the circumstances, but
assured him that the matter was receiving the
attention it deserved, and doubtless in a few days
he would be permitted to leave. This seemed to
satisfy the poor fellow, and he withdrew, after thank-
ing us all for having honoured him with our visit.


204 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
In another of the wards amongst the patients was
an actor (absurdly like Willard). Immediately he
caught sight of us he ran up to the doctor, and in
excited tones informed him that he had not yet
received the thirty thousand roubles, which were
owing to him for his last performance. The doctor
pacified him with the assurance that the money
would shortly be forthcoming, but had not yet been
received by the officials, and further, to humour him,
asked how the performance for his “benefit” was
progressing. In reply, the fellow gave us, in the
centre of the room, what evidently was part of a
scene he had once acted in, and went through some
extraordinary performance, alternately weeping, tear-
ing his hair, and grovelling on the floor, whilst
uttering incoherent sentences, and then rushing about
as though with a sword in his hand and singing
operatic airs. It was a painful rather than an
amusing sight, and one which I shall not easily
forget—the poor half-witted chap in the centre of
the large room declaiming to an imaginary audience,
and all round, sitting or standing by their beds, were
the other lunatics, watching his movements in rapt
amazement.
We then went back to the prison, as I expressed a
wish to see the prisoners in the solitary, or sekré-
tene, cells. This was the only part of the building
which was really like a prison. And very gloomy and
depressing was it; no less than three heavily barred





A “POLITICAL.
(From a Gorernment photo.)
[To face p. 205.


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 205
iron doors had to be unlocked before we reached the
corridor where these cells were situated. A warder
is on duty here, I was told, night and day, for
there were several political prisoners, and the rest
were the most desperate characters. In each door
was a little hole about the size of a sixpence, through
which could be seen the interior of the cell. I had
a peep into all; it was almost like looking at some
caged wild beasts, the clanking of the heavy chains
they wore on their hands and feet heightening the
illusion. Some of the prisoners had, I was informed,
been there for years, and only were allowed out for
exercise for an hour a day, and were not permitted
to mingle with the other prisoners. It was easy to
distinguish which were the “politicals,” for they
were in ordinary civilian costume and had no chains
on, as far as I could see. Most of them were quite
young men, one being a mere lad, his curly hair and
good-looking face not giving him the appearance of
being so dangerous a political character as to neces-
sitate such elaborate precautions being taken to pre-
vent his escape. To my astonishment—for I had
always read to the contrary—I noticed that all these
political prisoners were not only allowed books to
read, but in most cases were smoking also, and in
every instance had their own mattresses and bedding;
so their cells, at any rate, looked cleaner and more
cheerful than those of the ordinary criminals, to
whom filth seemed indifferent.


206 FROM THE ARCTIO OCEAN
As we were crossing the quadrangle on our way
out, a prisoner came up and offered to sell me a
horsehair chain he had made. The fact of the governor
and other officials being present did not seem to
matter a bit, so as the work was curious I bought it
of him, and as I had no small money about me, he
took a rouble note and went and got change from
some other prisoner!
This my first visit to the prison was followed by
many others, and I made a heap of sketches; in fact,
I fancy I got to be looked upon as quite an habitué of
the gruesome place. I even obtained permission to
make a painting of a prisoner in one of the solitary
cells, and had a whole day's work at it under the
supervision of a warder, a break in the poor wretch's
awful existence which he will probably remember for
many a long year, whilst probably wondering what
the Angliski Gospodin could have seen worthy of
being painted in so dreary a place.
On the morning of my last visit to the prison,
when I went to fetch away my canvas and paint-box,
I was rather surprised to notice as I drove up a tall,
well-dressed woman walking up and down, accom-
panied by a gaoler, in the sunshine, outside the gates,
in front of the group of warders and soldiers who were
always lolling about smoking and chatting on the
benches against the wall. On getting nearer, I found
it was my murderess friend the baroness. We shook
hands in the most unconstrained manner, and she told


|
VISITING DAY IN THE IRKUTSR PRISON.—“sweeth EARTS AND WIVES.
[To face p. 236.





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208 FROM THE ARCTION OCEAN
CHAPTER XIX.
IRKUTsK—continued.
A gold-caravan—Particulars as to the gold-mining industry of
Siberia—The Foundling Hospital—The fire-brigade—Cele-
bration of the Czar's birthday—Living in Irkutsk.
---
--- TIE IT WHILE driving out-
==S-2– -->
side the city one day
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It consisted of twelve
covered sledgesnearly
all exactly of the same
pattern, with num-
bers written on them,
and the leading and
hindmost ones with
|
#
s
f
THE HIGH STREET, IRKUTSK.


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 209
large lanterns fixed on the roof; in several of them
I noticed were soldiers with rifles in readiness. The
effect was so peculiar that on my return I made
it my business to find out what it was all about.
I was informed that what I had seen was a “gold-
caravan” en route for Russia. My informant then,
in reply to my questions, gave me a lot of inte-
resting particulars about the gold-mining industry of
Siberia which was quite new to me, and will doubt-
less be of interest to others. He told me that all gold
found in Siberia has to be sold immediately to the
Government, who buys it at the current price of St.
Petersburg. A mine-owner is not permitted to sell
to a private individual, nor even to have the smallest
amount in his possession beyond a certain time. If
he should desire to keep a small nugget, say, as a
curiosity, he must buy it from the Government, who
will then give him a special permit authorizing him
its possession. All gold has to be delivered at the
owner's expense at the Government smelting-houses,
where it is made into ingots and then sent by caravan
to St. Petersburg, the cost of smelting and carriage
being also charged to the owner. The primary
charges are, therefore, somewhat considerable. Gold
is sold at per “pood,” a pood being equivalent to
thirty-six pounds English. At the then rate of
exchange, a pood was worth 15,616 roubles (8 rs.
40 kopeks = £1, February, 1891); out of this must
be deducted the cost of transport (usually per post)
P


210 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
to the smelting-house, which is considerable, and
the further cost per caravan and rail to St. Peters-
burg, which amounts to forty roubles per pood. The
Government keeps back for assaying, smelting, etc.,
416 roubles per pood on all gold from the Lena
mines, and 132 roubles in gold sent from the Amour
district. I naturally asked the reason of the great
difference in the charges against the two districts, .
and was told that in the Amour district, where only
the width of the river separates the Russian from
the Chinese empire, the temptation to sell the gold
across the frontier would be very great were the
Russian Government duties excessive; so it is for
that reason they are so much reduced. The Lena
mines are too far away for anything of the sort to be
feared.
Through the courtesy of the officials I was enabled
to spend a very interesting morning at the Govern-
ment smelting-house, and witnessed several opera-
tions, to me very novel, from the unpacking of the
gold as it is received from the mine-owners, its
weighing, smelting, and eventual running off into
ingots. Over £10,000 worth of gold was operated
on, so I had a good opportunity of seeing the entire
modus operandi. I noticed, by the way, that all
the assaying instruments were English, and by a
London maker. Afterwards I was shown, in the
“safe,” ingots to the amount of nearly half a million
(£500,000), some of them so heavy that I could


212 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
I had read so much about these unique Russian
institutions, that my curiosity was aroused. Without
any difficulty whatever I obtained permission to visit
it, and I was very much interested in all I was
shown, for I had never seen anything of the kind
before. It was, of course, a replica on a smaller
scale of the colossal institutions of the kind in
St. Petersburg and Moscow and other Russian cities,
which are so ably described in “Murray.” As their
raison d'être may not be generally known, a few
extracts from the work just named may be of
interest.
In speaking of these hospitals at St. Petersburg and
Moscow he says—
“The fate of illegitimate children and the responsibilities of
their parents have been, and in all probability will remain, one
of the most difficult subjects for legislation in most countries.
But though some laws regarding it are necessary, there can be
no question that natural affection, nay, even common humanity,
should inculcate upon those who can possibly raise the means
the duty of bringing them up at their own expense. The
facilities afforded by this hospital militate, we think, against
this principle. . . .
“We cannot help thinking that a visit to this remarkable
establishment [the St. Petersburg one] cannot fail to excite
very serious reflections in the mind of the English traveller.
If the institution is to be viewed in the light of a charity, it is
charity upon a very questionable principle; but be this as it
may, this vast breeding-cage will give visitors a very clear idea
of the power and immense resources of the State. . . . Though
this is called a foundling hospital, it is in reality a general
receptacle for all children, who are received up to a certain age
without exception, it being entirely left to the option of the
parents to state their names and conditions, and to contribute


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 213
or not to the future support of the child. . . . If a boy be left
by his parents without any accompanying deposit, he is brought
up for the army, and, unless he displays very unusual mental
powers, is destined for life to serve as a common soldier; if, on
the contrary, a certain sum is left with him, he will become an
officer. Thus the boys brought up in this institution become
in all cases the property of the State, and furnish a constant
supply of recruits for the various gradations of military ser-
vice. . . . The majority of the girls, beyond a common and
useful education in their own language, are employed solely in
manual labour, the produce of which goes partly to the funds
of the institution and is partly put by for them, to form their
marriage portion.”
I do not think I was ever in a cleaner-looking
place than the Irkutsk Foundling Hospital. The
floors actually rivalled the walls in whiteness, and
the neat costume worn by the wet-nurses enhanced
an effect which was as pretty as it was unique.
Each nurse, I was informed, has charge of two
infants, and I noticed in several instances the woman
walking about with the two babies at the same time,
one on each arm. Considering how many children
there were in the place, the rooms were remarkably
quiet, for I had quite expected to hear the usual
deafening “nursery row" going on—a row which,
though doubtless very amusing to mothers and
nurses, never had much attraction for me. There
was nothing particularly striking about the interior
of the building, which consisted of several very
large and lofty rooms; in the centre of each of these,
which probably contained about six cots, was a sort
of high table or desk with a ledge round it, and on


214 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
which the babies were dressed, or, rather, tightly
packed up in swaddling clothes—a curious process
which gave them the appearance of miniature
mummies all exactly of the same pattern, for the
rolling always seemed done on a sort of systematic
principle. I was much astonished to learn that
many of the wet-nurses were the mothers of the
children they were nursing, for they are often so
appointed if they wish it, when there is no reason to
the contrary. The infants are usually kept in the
hospital for about six weeks, and are then sent out
to nurse amongst the peasants round about, for
which a small monthly sum is paid by the institu-
tion; and then when they reach a certain age,
“About six years old, they are taken from their foster
parents [what a parting this must be to thousands every
year!], the girls to St. Petersburg for their education, and the
boys to a branch establishment at Gatshina” (Murray).
Of course the Irkutsk foundlings are brought up
and remain in Siberia.
Amongst the many other charitable institutions
here, I also visited one of the children's homes
(dedski prioutt), where orphans of both sexes are
received up to a certain age, and educated and brought
up free. Also the “Home” for the aged and infirm
who, through no fault of their own, find themselves
stranded at the end of their lives—a “Home” unique
in its way, being neither a workhouse nor an alms-
house as we understand it in England. What most


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 215
impressed me in these institutions was the marvellous
cleanliness and order which existed everywhere.
The fire-brigade is quite a big affair here, as well
it may be after the terrible experiences of the in-
habitants in 1879, and, as is the case in all Siberian
cities, large watch-towers are placed in all the most
prominent positions, from which watchmen can
discern any outbreak, and then give the alarm by
means of a big bell; whilst in the stations below
IN THE county And of A FIRE STATION, IRRUTsk.
the men, horses, manuals, and water-carts are in
constant readiness, and can turn out in wonderfully
short time—in fact, so smart are they, that had I not
seen a proof of it on one occasion, I could hardly
have believed it possible to harness the horses and
get away so quickly. There is a steam fire-engine at
Irkutsk, and I was gratified to note that it was
by an English firm, Shand and Mason. Very proud
the men seem of it, too, for it shone all over like


216 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
a looking-glass, and is evidently kept in tip-top con-
dition. In this distant Siberian city its familiar form
seemed like a connecting-link with far-away London.
I was much struck with the number of overhead
wires one sees in Irkutsk, and on inquiry learnt
they were mostly telephone wires, and that all the
Government offices and most of the big business
houses are connected by this means. The wires are
worked by a private company, and the charges are
not excessive considering, the cost per year, in-
cluding hire and fixing of machine, etc., being only
twenty-five roubles (£3). Irkutsk is also in direct
communication with a St. Petersburg Central News
Agency, and every item of news of importance is
received here by telegram as soon as it is known
at the Russian office. In this way I learnt of the
last Whitechapel murder on the very evening of the
day it had occurred, for everybody at the club was
talking of it, such an impression did it make even
right away here in the centre of Asia. Talking of
clubs, there are two really well-arranged ones here,
one a military, the other a merchants', though neither
of them can come up to the one at Krasnoiarsk in
my opinion.
The museum, which I visited one morning, well
repaid me for the couple of hours I spent there, for
the five rooms contain, besides many valuable speci-
mens of Siberian and Mongolian curiosities and
mammoth bones, a complete stuffed collection of


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 217
Siberian animals and birds. The rooms are also
used for the periodical meetings of the St. Petersburg
Imperial Geographical Society, of which Irkutsk is
the Eastern Siberian section.
As far as outdoor amusement is concerned, the prin-
cipal place during the winter months is the skating-
rink, in the principal street, which is the favourite
resort of the jeunesse dorée here, and from four till
six of an afternoon the ice is generally crowded
with pretty girls and smart-looking officers and
civilians, most of them excellent skaters. A band,
which plays twice a week, and fireworks and
illuminations on certain evenings, add also consider-
ably to its attractions. Beyond the clubs there
is very little in the way of public amusements,
for the only theatre was burnt down two years
ago and has not yet been rebuilt, although it is
proposed to do so shortly on a magnificent scale.
Meanwhile, amateur dramatic performances occasion-
ally take place in a large hall transformed for the
nonce into a short of theatre. I was present at one
of these “performances,” and although I understood
but very little of what was said, I could not help
coming to the conclusion that Irkutsk is not bub-
bling over with amateur histrionic talent, for the show
was very tame and uninteresting.
It is said that in Russia at least one-half of the
year is given up to religious or other holidays, and
I can quite believe it, for scarcely a week passed


To THE YELLow SEA. 219
attire. The most important of all these fêtes occurred
whilst I was in Irkutsk, March 10 (February 26,
Old Style), being the anniversary of the Czar's birth-
day. The city was gaily decorated for the occasion,
and as it was quite a warm spring-like day the streets
were thronged with people, and presented a most
animated appearance. After the customary thanks-
giving service in the different churches, a royal salute
was fired, and a parade of the garrison took place in
front of the cathedral, in the presence of the governor-
general and his staff. The troops, who were without
their rifles, performed several evolutions with a
smartness which quite surprised me, for, although
undoubtedly a serviceable-looking lot of men, they
had never given me the impression of having any
smartness in them. After marching past, first in
quarter column and then double column of companies,
they were formed up in line, the wheeling being
remarkably steady, and the proceedings ended with
a cheer for his most holy Majesty the Czar of all the
Russias. One sees so little of the military in
Siberia, except when they are off duty, that it is
seldom one has an opportunity of judging what
“stuff” they are made of.
Living in Irkutsk is not cheap—rather the reverse,
I thought, after my Krasnoiarsk and Yeniseisk ex-
periences—for, in spite of rent, food, and labour being
as cheap as anywhere else in Siberia, the charges at
all the hotels were as high as they would have been


220 FROM THE ARCTIC ocean. To THE YELLOW SEA.
anywhere in Europe. One could understand it if
everything had to be brought from a great distance;
but considering that Irkutsk is the centre of a huge
producing district, it ought to be one of the cheapest
places to live in rather than the contrary. Still, it is
a city well worth seeing, and had I not visited it
I should certainly have missed the real “life” of
Siberia.
ºminim
º: ſº
º/º
STREET scENE, IRRUTsk.


A BIT ON THE ROAD TO LARE BAikAL.
CHAPTER XX.
FROM IRKUTSK To THE MONGoL CHINESE FRONTIER.
My journey to Kiakhta, the city of the tea princes—Across Lake
Baikal on the ice—Interesting experiences.
THE weather was beginning to get so warm and the
snow so rapidly disappearing that I made up my
mind to continue my route to the frontier without
delay, as I was anxious to cross Lake Baikal on the
ice whilst there was still the opportunity. True,
I had been informed that there was really no necessity
to hurry, that it could often be crossed thus even as
late as May; but such opportunities were doubtless
exceptional, and this year the season showed every


222 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
sign of being an early one, so I felt there was no
time to be lost if I wished to see this vast inland
sea in its winter garb, and I had heard so much about
the wondrous beauties of this enormous expanse of
ice and the novel experiences of the journey across,
that I decided not to remain any longer in Irkutsk,
but to push on to Kiakhta, the frontier city, and
finish up my work there. Moreover, I had very
positive confirmation of my views, for shortly after
the news reached us that the ice on the Angara river
had commenced to break up, and that for many miles
the river was already clear.
I now learnt that I could not go the whole way
from Irkutsk to Kiakhta by sledge, as the snow
always ends some miles before the frontier is reached,
and the remainder of the journey has to be made in
a conveyance on wheels. I was advised, therefore,
to do the snow-covered part of the road on a cheap,
open sledge, which I could sell for a few roubles at
the last post-house. So my big sledge, in which I
had travelled so many thousand versts, had to be
disposed of, and I was fortunate enough to find an
enterprising dealer who took it off my hands at a
fair price, probably on the off-chance of making a
good thing out of it next winter. My next concern
was to buy the cheap open sledge for the journey;
this I had no difficulty in procuring, and for eight
roubles (less than £1) I got a big, awkward-looking
vehicle, not unlike a huge clothes-basket covered with


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 223
sacking—a great contrast to the luxurious pavoska
I had hitherto been travelling in. Still, it was in
itself a welcome sign that, for me, the long Siberian
winter was nearly past, and that I was soon to be
en route for the sunny South.
My preparations did not take long, for the journey
to Kiakhta only occupies two days, and on the even-
ing of March 11 I left the gay capital of Eastern
Siberia for the Mongol frontier. I had been advised
to start at night, so as to reach the lake—which is
only sixty versts off—early in the morning, and
accomplish the crossing by daylight. I had not
thought it necessary to hamper myself with a servant
for so short a journey, so was travelling quite alone.
For many miles after leaving the city the road lay
along the ice in the very centre of the river Angara,
and as it was quite a warm evening and the track
very smooth, the motion was so pleasant that the idea
of perchance the road ending abruptly never entered
my head, and it was quite with a feeling of regret
that I saw the horses at last turned towards the bank
and we were on land once more. But only by the
wildest stretch of the imagination could it have been
considered a sledge-track, my driver having actually
to search for bits of snow here and there, and make
for them as well as he could across the intervening
mud; in fact, it seemed absurd attempting it in a
sledge. However, we managed somehow to reach the
first station, and found the yard full of tarantasses


224 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
(the summer posting carriages, which I shall have
occasion to describe further on), which had just arrived
with travellers bound for Irkutsk; my sledge looking
strangely out of place among the tall, unwieldy
vehicles. The postmaster shook his head, and said
he very much doubted whether he ought to let me
proceed, except on wheels; eventually he only let
me have horses on condition that I did not start till
just before daybreak, so as to reach the bad part when
it was light. I shall long remember that “bad part,”
for I don't think I was ever on such a road before in
my life, even in a wheeled carriage, and certainly
hope never to be on such a one again in a sledge.
Many times I got out and tramped along in the mud
out of sheer compassion for the horses, who were
“pulling their hearts out” to get the unwieldy
sledge through the awful quagmire, for it was
nothing else.
It was a lovely morning, with every promise of
another spring-like day, when we once more sighted
the river Angara. But to my astonishment, this was
no silent expanse of ice as when I had seen it on the
previous night, for before me was a broad, swiftly
running river, its clear limpid waters sparkling like
crystal in the bright rays of the rising sun, while on
its surface no trace of ice could I discern.
It was a beautiful and impressive scene, though
positively startling withal, to see a moving river once
more after the dreary ice-bound wastes one had got


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 225
accustomed to look at during the past four months,
and I could scarcely realize that this was the same
river along which I had travelled on the ice so few
miles back. The Angara here must have been at
least as wide as the Thames at London Bridge, the
opposite banks, which were clothed with dense pine
forests, rising precipitously from the very edge of the
THE RIVER ANGAra near LARE BAIRAL.
water. On account of the pureness of the atmosphere
everything appeared so much nearer than it really
was, that at first I could hardly believe that what I
took to be curious little bushes on the opposite side
were in reality big full-grown trees. I could not
help thinking that if the scene is so weirdly beautiful
even during the winter months, what must it be when
Q


226 FROM THE ARCTION OCEAN
all these grand hills are clothed with the gorgeous
verdure of an Asiatic summer ? Then indeed must
the effect be almost of surpassing beauty, and one
which must fully justify its title of “the most
beautiful river in the world.” Considering the
importance of the Angara, its resources are un-
doubtedly as yet in their infancy, for this mighty
river is the only outlet of the waters of Lake Baikal,
being, curiously enough, the only river which flows
out of it, and is, as may be seen by a glance at the
map, the big connecting link of the whole of the huge
watershed of Central Asia—a watershed so vast and
extended that in comparison with it that of the
Mississippi and Missouri pales into insignificance.
Unfortunately, however, there is an impediment to
the entire utilization of this great waterway which
up to the present has defied the combined ideas of
some of the greatest practical engineers of the world,
for not far from where the Angara leaves Lake Baikal
it forms a big rapid over two miles in length, and
before gaining its subsequent level actually falls over
a ledge of rock which bars its entire width. It is
this huge “step” which must be removed before the
river can be entirely used for navigation. Engineers
for years past have been studying the possibility of
removing this obstacle, but as yet nothing has been
attempted. Meanwhile, however, that Siberian mag-
nate, M. Siberiakoff, has undertaken the task of
making the river navigable the whole way for


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 227
steamers running from Irkutsk to Lake Baikal, and
he proposes carrying out his scheme on a chain-haul-
ing principle on the plans of the Swedish system.
Whether or not this will be successful on a Siberian
river remains, of course, to be seen.
The navigation of the river Selenga, Lake Baikal,
and the river Angara is at present only carried on by
nine steamers, only three of which ply between
Irkutsk and the rapids. All these vessels, except
one, are owned by Russians. The one exception is
owned and worked by an Englishman resident in
Irkutsk, Mr. Charles Lee, a gentleman to whom I
have already referred. The Russian steamers offer
but little of interest, having been purchased in Russia,
and only put together in Siberia. Not so, however, the
English one, which was not only built and launched
at Irkutsk, but every portion of her construction,
from her engines to her outer plates and rivets, was
made in Irkutsk under the supervision of Mr. Lee,
who is a practical engineer of great ability. This, as
being, I believe, the first attempt at actual ship-
building (not merely putting together) in Siberia, is
of great interest, and more especially so when one
learns that the credit of the enterprise is due to an
Englishman; not the least interesting part of it
being that this was Mr. Lee's first experience in ship-
building, and that the whole of the work was done
by convict labour; also that the ship, when finished,
was launched sideways, in itself a somewhat novel feat.


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 229
been ruled. The part of the lake we had now
reached is the narrowest end; the distance across it
here from shore to shore being about thirty miles,
though the great height of the mountains on the
opposite side makes it look much narrower. Our
road now lay along the shore, a sort of rocky beach,
reminding me very much of bits of Devonshire I
know well. Under the lofty cliffs ice and snow
LIESTVINITz, on LARE BAIKAL.
became more plentiful, so my driver no longer had
to search for a likely sledging track, and for the next
few miles, till we reached the post station, we went
along splendidly. The road in one place left the
shore for a short distance, and went right across a
sort of little harbour crowded with shipping; in fact,
we actually had to dodge in and out of the vessels,
and duck our heads to avoid the ropes and spars.


230 FROM THE ARCTIO OCEAN
My driver evidently knew the place well, for we went
right through the sort of fleet at full gallop, and a
few minutes later reached the quaint little village of
Liestvinitz, the point at which the journey across the
lake is commenced. And after I had had a good
sluice in a bucket of cold water, I was soon comfort-
ably settled at breakfast in one of the cleanest post-
houses I had yet seen. A real square meal, followed
by a good cigar, put me in the right sort of trim to
fully appreciate the novel experiences in store for me,
and when I gave the order to start, I was lounging
back in my sledge literally basking in the genial
sunshine, prepared to enjoy myself to the very utmost.
Try and imagine what it would be like starting from
the Lord Warden Hotel at Dover on a warm, spring-
like morning, with the intention of driving over to
Calais or Boulogne, and you will have some idea of
this part of my journey.
The opposite shore for which I was “bound" was
quite invisible; and the ice, owing to its smoothness
and the unusual absence of snow on its surface,
almost presented the appearance of a very calm sea
under the bright blue morning sky.
Lake Baikal, or, as it is called by Russians, “the
Holy Sea of Siberia,” is one of the largest fresh-water
lakes in the world. Its elevation is 1500 feet above
the level of the sea. This magnificent sheet of water
covers an area of 12,441 square miles, equal to sixty
times that of the Lake of Geneva, and is 420 miles in


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 231
length, and forty in breadth in the widest part. The
principal characteristics of this big inland sea are
its great depth, the severe and sudden storms which
rage upon it, and the curious fact that seals are
annually caught in it to a great extent. That this
immense lake owes its origin to volcanic agencies
has, I think, never been doubted; its enormous depth
alone carries out this supposition, for in parts, where
T
-
-
A LARE BAIKAL STEAMER.
lines of 5000 feet and 6000 feet have been used, no
bottom has been found, while in most places its
average depth is 5404 feet. I hear that it is said in
Irkutsk that it is only on Baikal that “a man learns
first to pray from his heart,” for so unexpectedly do
its awful hurricanes arise, that no one can tell, how-
ever promising may be the outlook when starting,
under what conditions the opposite shore will be


232 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
reached. Of course I had no opportunity of judging
for myself, but I heard anything but good accounts
of the three steamers employed for the journey, which
usually takes about six hours under favourable
circumstances. Other remarkable features of Lake
Baikal are the marvellous transparency of its water
and the rapidity with which it freezes when winter
sets in. The appearance of the ice on the lake
depends entirely on the weather at the time the
water congealed. If the surface was then much
agitated, the ice everywhere will present a broken
appearance like waves, plainly showing how sudden
and irresistible was the icy grasp of the Siberian
winter. I am informed that along the coast the
curious phenomenon has often been noticed of frozen
waves, the curl of the water and even the foam being
plainly distinguishable in the solid mass. I was
fortunate in finding the ice perfectly smooth; it had
evidently been a dead calm at the time the frost set in.
The road the whole way is indicated by means of
a double row of pine saplings stuck at intervals in
the ice—a curious effect being thus produced, not
unlike an endless miniature boulevard stretching
away till it is lost in the distance. I could not help
noticing the way the horses are shod for the work:
huge spikes are fastened to their shoes, which, as they
gallop along, splinter the ice in all directions, but
give them a firm foothold on its treacherous surface.
In a very short time after leaving picturesque


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 233
Liestvenitz we were well out in the open, and
tearing along at the horses' top speed, the motion
being simply delightful. For about a mile from the
shore the ice had a thin layer of snow over it, but we
gradually left this sort of dazzling white carpet, and
at length reached the clear ice, when I saw around
crossING LARE BAIRAL.
me the most wonderful and bewitching sight I ever
beheld. Owing to the marvellous transparency of
the water, the ice presented everywhere the appear-
ance of polished crystal, and, although undoubtedly
of great thickness, was so colourless that it was like
passing over space. It gave me at first quite an
uncanny feeling to look over the side of the sledge


234 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN TO THE YELLOW SEA.
down into the black abyss beneath ; this feeling,
however, gradually changed to one of fascination, till
at last I found it positively difficult to withdraw my
gaze from the awful depths, with nothing but this
sheet of crystal between me and eternity. I believe
that most travellers, on crossing the lake on the ice
for the first time, experience the same weird and
fascinating influence. About half-way across I stopped
to make a sketch and take some photographs. It
was no easy matter, as I found on getting out of the
sledge, for the ice was so slippery that in spite of my
having felt snow-boots on I could hardly stand. The
death-like silence of the surroundings reminded me
not a little of my experiences in the ice of the Kara
Sea. This wonderful stillness was occasionally broken,
however, by curious sounds, as though big guns were
being fired at some little distance. They were caused
by the cracking of the ice here and there. I was
told that in some parts of the lake were huge fissures,
through which the water could be seen. It is for
this reason that it is always advisable to do the
journey by daylight.
We reached Moufshkaya, on the opposite coast,
exactly four and a half hours after leaving Liestvenitz,
the horses having done the whole distance of over
thirty miles with only two stoppages of a few minutes
each. It was evidently an easy bit of work for them,
as they seemed as fresh when we drew up in the post-
yard as when they started in the morning.


|
º
The KUPETSki TRACK.
CHAPTER XXI.
FROM IRKUTSK TO THE MONGOL CHINESE FRONTIER–
continued.
The road from Lake Baikal to Krakhta — The “Kupetski
track”—Incidents on the way—I change my sledge for a
tarantass—Exciting adventures—Arrival at Troitzkosavsk,
the business surburb of Kiakhta.
FROM Moufshkaya to Kiakhta I had the choice of two
roads—one, the regular Government post-road, which
passes through Verchni Udinsk, and then branches off
to the frontier; the other, a private track made by the
merchant princes of Kiakhta, which goes straight there
without touching at any town, thus saving at least
two days’ journey. This road, I had been informed,


236 FROM THE ARCTION OOEAN
could be used without any special permission, so, after
my recent experiences of Siberian posting, I did not
hesitate which of the two to go by, especially as I had
been told that the “Kupetski track,” or merchants'
route, was by far the more picturesque, while Werchni
Udinsk and the few scattered villages on the post-
road offered but the usual monotony of Siberian travel,
which I knew only too well. I was well repaid for
my choice; for not only did the road pass through
some magnificent mountain and forest scenery, but the
post-houses, with only two exceptions, were better
than I had usually found on the Government roads.
For many miles after leaving the lake the road
passed through a narrow gorge with high mountains
and dense pine forest on either side. Night was
coming on, and in the deepening gloom around me,
whence issued the sound of a rushing torrent, the
effect was very weird. Here the snow lay thick, so
there was no doubt about the practicability of
sledging, and we got along very well; but we did
not reach the next post-house till it was quite dark.
After but a very short delay, just to get fresh horses,
I started again. The night was so black that had it
not been for the snow on the road it would have been
a most difficult matter to find it at all; as it was,
we shortly after had a slight accident. In one part
of the road, where it was exceptionally narrow, one
of the horses somehow got out of the track and fell
into a deep hole full of snow. The other two


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 237
sagacious animals fortunately had the instinct to
stop, or we might have had an awkward time had
they started kicking. The yemschik was evidently
used to these little contretemps, for the incident did
not seem to put him out very much, and we soon
got the half-buried brute on terra firma again. It
occurred to me that all such incidents might not end
equally well, so I decided to wait in the next post-
house till daybreak, as the road seemed to get darker
and darker, and more and more uneven. On reaching
the station, however, one look was sufficient; it was
so infested with cockroaches and other vermin that
rather than spend the night in it I determined to
push on at all hazards. So uninhabitable, in fact,
was the place that I positively could not remain in it
even while the horses were being got ready.
After leaving this station the road appeared to get
more sandy and with less snow on it; so, in order to
make it easier for his horses, the yemschik followed
a narrow track leading right through the forest. I
soon fell asleep, and was in the midst of a delightful
dream when I was awakened by the man calling to
me to get up. At first I thought we had reached
the next station, but on looking round I saw we were
in a sort of clearing in the very depths of the forest.
It was snowing so thickly at the time that one could
scarcely make out anything a few yards distant. On
either side of the sledge were two trees so close to
it that I immediately suspected what was wrong,


238 FROM THE ARCTION OCEAN
so without hesitation I jumped out, and the yemschik
explained to me that he had lost his way, and had
somehow got the sledge wedged between these two
trees. Here was a predicament For the next hour
we were trying all we knew to get the clumsy vehicle
A POST-house ox. The kurpetski TRAck.
free, and it was only after endless futile efforts that
we literally had to cut it out—with no little diffi-
culty, for the wood seemed as hard as iron. By the
time we got under way again, and after searching for
the track, day was beginning to break, and it was
broad daylight when we reached the station. It had


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 239
taken over five hours to do the last fifteen miles.
The postmaster here, who spoke German fluently,
informed me that it was out of the question attempt-
ing to proceed any further in a sledge, and that I
should have now to continue my journey in a
tarantass, or post-cart. As he agreed to purchase
my sledge for exactly what I had given for it, I
could not object, though I felt that the remainder
of the route to Kiakhta would not be enjoyable, as
I should, at every station, have to repack my baggage
in a fresh conveyance. However, there was no help
for it. A Tarantass is a most curious and distinctively
Russian vehicle. In shape it is not unlike a very
unwieldy barouche, with a large fixed hood at the
back. As in a sledge, the luggage is packed inside
so as to form a seat, and, though not an elegant-look-
ing conveyance, it is well adapted to the rough roads
of the country. I was once more travelling on wheels,
for the first time since I had left England.
The country now began to assume a much more
barren and steppe-like appearance, and there was
hardly a trace of snow anywhere. The trees also
seemed to have disappeared, and for miles ahead
there was a bare undulating plain. I could not
help noticing that everything was now beginning
to look more Chinese, or, rather, Mongolian. Even
the tea caravans we passed were composed of
quaint-looking carts, undoubtedly of Chinese origin,
whilst the drivers, with their swarthy sunburnt faces,


240 FROM THE ARCTIO OCEAN
looked strangely out of keeping with the cold land-
scape.
In the afternoon we reached a small river, over
which, as usual, the road passed on the ice. My
yemschik, quite a young lad, was, however, in no
hurry to cross when we saw a cart which was coming
towards us suddenly half disappear through the ice,
A TEA CART.
which was evidently very rotten. The water, fortu-
nately, was only four feet deep at the utmost, so
beyond the difficulty of getting his horse and cart
out again he ran no risk. After watching the fellow
(who was standing up to his waist in the icy-cold
water) in his vain efforts to move the lumbersome
vehicle, I decided that we could not stay where we


'TO THE YELLOW SEA. 24l
were all day, and that we had to get across somehow,
so I persuaded my youthful Jehu to try a narrower
spot a little further down, in the hopes of the ice
being stronger there. Well, we went at it full tilt,
hoping to get across with a rush; and so we did till
within about twenty yards of the opposite bank,
when, with a sickening crash, the ice gave way, and
we were in the water. The horses immediately began
kicking and plunging to such an extent that I
expected every moment the heavy tarantass would
turn over and all my baggage be lost. For a few
minutes my driver absolutely lost his head; but,
finding that the horses in their mad endeavours to
get out had so loosened the ice as to clear the way,
he cooled down, and we managed to reach the bank
without any further mishap than getting slightly wet.
As we drove full gallop along the road to make up
for lost time, I looked back and saw the peasant
with his horse and cart still in the water, and taking
it very quietly. A basin of hot Bouillon Fleet at the
next station soon set me right, and I felt no ill effects
from the cold water.
I was now rapidly nearing my destination, when
on reaching the last station but one, as evening was
coming on, the postmaster said something which I
did not quite understand, that he did not like to let
me go on, about its being soon dark and the road a
bad one, also something which I did not catch.
However, I had made up my mind to reach Kiakhta
- R


242 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
that night if it could be done, so I peremptorily
ordered the fresh tarantass and horses at once, and
after but a short delay I was soon on the move again.
The road now lay right across the turf, and, owing to
the nature of the soil, was scarcely visible in the
rapidly failing light; in fact, in many places I
wondered how the driver found his way at all, for I
could see no sign of any track.
It was quite dark when we came to what looked
like an immense white plain. This, the yemschik
told me, was the river Selenga. This majestic river,
which flows into Lake Baikal, was here as wide as
the Thames at Gravesend, and in the darkness the
opposite bank was scarcely visible. Our road lay
right across its ice-bound surface. At the edge of
the ice my driver drew up, and, getting down, said
he would go and look round before venturing on it,
as a man who had that afternoon came in from the
next station reported that the ice was beginning to
break up. I immediately remembered the incident
which had happened only a few miles back, and
visions rose up before me of what would be the result
in the event of such an accident occurring on this
mighty river, so I felt just the least little bit uncom-
fortable when, after being absent some twenty
minutes, he came back and said he thought it would
be all right, so on we went. It may have been my
fancy, but the heavy lumbering vehicle seemed to
weigh more than ever now, as it rattled over the ice


-
№
|-
-
-
- !
|-
|-----
|-
|-
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
||||||||||||||||||||||||
A skETCH IN THE TRANS-BAIKAL.
DAY-DREAMs
(The curious hanging arrangement is a cradle.)





TO THE YELLOW SEA. 243
of the river. We had reached, I suppose, about the
middle, when suddenly the horses drew up of their
own accord, snorting with fear. A large dark mass
was in front of them. Nothing could induce them
to go on, so the driver got down to see what it
was, and almost immediately returned and, getting
up, hastily drove in another direction, informing
me, in an awed whisper, that it was water. I then
made out that the dark mass was a huge gap in
the ice. The instinct of the horses had undoubtedly
saved us!
After a considerable détour we reached what
appeared to be the opposite bank, only to find that
it was an island, and that there was another broad
piece of ice still to be crossed. The driver had now
the greatest difficulty in getting the terror-stricken
animals to go on at all. It was only after a lot of
coaxing, and eventually leading them himself, that
they could be persuaded to venture on the treacherous
surface. This time, however, we got across without
further incident, and it was with a genuine feeling of
relief that I felt the tarantass once more rolling over
the grass.
After a short search the track was again found,
and an hour later I reached the last post-house before
Kiakhta, after a most exciting “stage.” There is, of
course, no other means of crossing Siberian rivers
during the winter but on the ice. Towards the end
of the winter, just before the debâcle begins, it is





ºgłº ºd pop/ 411"xis Avsoxizilioul ºlarauls hºth ºthal,


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 245
whole town was asleep. The yemschik then said he
knew of some people who had a room to let, if we
could manage to wake them up. So we went to the
house, and, happily, were successful. The room, on
inspection, proved not only comfortable and clean,
but wonderfully cheap in the bargain. So I decided
to remain there during my stay in the town. And
how thankful I was when I at length “turned in "
for a good night's rest after my somewhat eventful
and fatiguing journey !
My lodgings were in the High Street of Troitz-
kosavsk, the business suburb of Kiakhta, for in the
frontier city itself there are not above fifty houses,
nearly all of which belong to the great merchants.
The frontier commissioner also lives there. I sup-
pose it was the recollection of all the gaieties at
Irkutsk, for I found Kiakhta and Troitzkosavsk
terribly dull after the capital—so much so, in fact,
that had I not made up my mind to complete my
work I should have pushed on towards Ourga with-
out delay, more especially as the weather continued
bitterly cold and it snowed almost every day. There
was only one redeeming feature in this dead-alive
little frontier city, and that was the novel sights one
occasionally sees in the streets. After the unvaried
monotony of costume in other Siberian towns, it
was refreshing here to see wild-looking Mongolians
dashing up the quiet street on their wiry little
ponies; or an occasional camel-caravan, with tea,


246 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
arriving from the desert. It was a sign that a
warmer and more picturesque country was close at
hand, and made me long the more to get out of
cold Siberia. But the novel and interesting sights
at Kiakhta were but poor specimens of what I
hoped to see further on ; so I decided not to begin
sketching them till I saw the genuine article in
Mongolia itself.
By the way, a somewhat interesting incident
occurred whilst I was here. I had made friends with
a local photographer, a man of some considerable
talent, and would frequently while away an hour
in his company. One day that I was visiting his
studio for the first time, I was much struck with
a “background" painted on a large canvas lying
against the wall. It was so exceptionally good that
I could not refrain from making a remark upon
it, when I was informed, to my astonishment, that
it was the work of his assistant, who was standing
by. One does not expect to meet artists of talent
in local photographers' employ in these far-away
places, and I could not help saying so. I was still
further impressed when the young fellow, in reply
to my question as to whether he had any other
work to show, produced a portfolio of sketches
which indicated a talent rarely met with. Becoming
enthusiastic, I told him he must be mad to be
wasting his time at photography in this out-of-the-
way town when St. Petersburg would be acclaiming


-----
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|-…………· · ·：
„…，--ſae}}
\kaevaeÑC|-
-----…·，----
|-∞∞∞·
N
----
[To face p. 246.
MY First Gilimpse of MONGOLIA.





TO THE YELLOW SEA. 247
him as a born artist. After a deal of beating about
the bush, and evident reluctance on his part, I
learnt the true facts of the case, that he and his
employer (both
eminent art-
ists, as I was
afterwards in-
formed), were
political exiles,
suffering a long
term of banish-
ment. Many
of the sketches
shown to me
(one of which
I give in fac-
simile) related
to prisoners'
life, and were
evidently done
during the long
march across
Siberia. I could
not help being
strongly im-
pressed with A BOURRIATE LADY.
the idea that a system which would allow a prisoner
to beguile the tedium of the march by following his
artistic proclivities cannot, however faulty its theory


248 FROM THE ARCTIC ocBAN TO THE YELLOW SEA.
may be, in practice be so cruelly disciplinaire as
many would have us believe.
Meanwhile, my work progressed rapidly, and after
a little over a fortnight's stay, I saw my way clear to
arrange for my further journey to the sacred city of
Ourga, and then across the Gobi desert to China;
but of all this I will tell you in my next chapter.


sketch BY A POLITICAL Prisoner MADE whilst on THE March
ACROSS Sibert L.A.
(The original is in sepia and white.)
[To face p. 248.





ON The road To OurGA.
("HAPTER XXII.
ACROSS MONGOLIA.
The Russo-Chinese frontier—Maimachin—The Mongols of to-
day–Curious customs—Hair-dressing extraordinary–A
pestilent farmyard—Exciting incidents—A forced encamp-
ment—An awful night's experiences—The Manhati Pass—
Magnificent scenery—I pull off a successful “bluff”—
“Angliski Boxe” in the wilds of Mongolia—Arrival at
Ourga.
THERE are two means of getting from Kiakhta, the
Siberian frontier town, to the Mongolian capital,
Ourga—either by camel caravan or in an ordinary


250 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
Russian tarantass, drawn by horses. I chose the
latter conveyance. The distance, a little over two
hundred miles, takes four days, as the same horses
have to do the entire journey, there being no means
of getting fresh relays on the road.
It was a lovely, springlike morning when, in a
fairly comfortable vehicle with three strong horses, I
crossed the frontier, my saddle-horse being fastened
loosely alongside the tarantass, to be ready at a
moment's notice in case of need when fording rivers
or for sporting purposes.
What actually marks the “frontier” it would
be difficult to say. Beyond a narrow, dirty strip of
what I believe is called “neutral ground,” but which
is evidently used principally as a sort of Russo-
Chinese dust-bin, there is nothing to denote the
borders of the two vast empires, and the road
passes right across into Mongolia without a break.
Many years ago, I learnt, some sort of barrier existed,
but it has long since been done away with. The
Russians, who, as a rule, are so fond of sticking
up their national coat of arms and placing their
black-and-white sentry-boxes wherever practicable,
doubtless consider this remote corner unworthy of
such ostentation, for there is here a striking absence
of these (in Siberia) familiar objects. Mentioning
this noteworthy absence of any national insignia
here, reminds me of a remarkable instance of clair-
voyance on the part of a traveller who crossed this


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 251
frontier within the last five years, and who described,
in his subsequent “Impressions de Voyage,” in a most
graphic manner, having passed, on that auspicious
occasion, “a guard-house and high wooden gates,”
which were burnt down nineteen years previously
Once, however, on the other side of the neutral
ground, one finds one's self in quite another world, so
to speak, for here is the wonderfully quaint little
Chinese town of Maimachin, which presents as great
a contrast to the neighbouring Siberian town,
Kiakhta, as could be imagined.
From the outside, little can be seen of Maimachin,
as it is surrounded by a high wooden palisade; but
once entered through the picturesque archway, Siberia
is, as it were, left so completely that it takes a few
minutes to get used to the wonderful transformation,
for at one step, so to speak, one finds one's self in the
Far East, with all its brilliant colouring and strange
costumes. There are probably no two nations in
the world which present a greater dissimilarity in
point of artistic taste than the Russian and the
Chinese; so, going direct from one to the other,
the contrast is positively startling. Maimachin is
a poor specimen of a Chinese town, but is almost
like a museum compared with the monotonous aspect
of Siberian cities. This town, with about two
thousand inhabitants, is of some importance as the
final stage for the camel caravans with tea before
they reach Siberia and the consignment is handed


252 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
over to the Russian merchants. It therefore always
presents a busy and animated appearance. A most
striking peculiarity here is the entire absence of
women; for, according to Chinese law, no female
of that nation is permitted to dwell beyond the
Great Wall. The Chinese who seek their fortunes
in Mongolia readily, however, console themselves
with Mongolian ladies, in the absence of their own
countrywomen.
After passing through Maimachin, the road—a
broad, well-defined track—lay for many miles across
level grassy plains, bounded in the extreme distance
by a low range of hills, and was flat and uninterest-
ing in the extreme. A few wretched yourts, or huts,
with some camels and cattle browsing here and
there, were the only signs of life in the vast solitude.
Before proceeding further into Mongolia, a short
description of the Mongols and their habitations
may be of interest. A yourt is a sort of cone-shaped
hut, covered with a kind of coarse felt made out
of sheep's wool. Its walls are held up on the inside,
to a height of about five feet, by a circular arrange-
ment of wooden lattice-work; this also supports the
roof, not unlike a huge umbrella, the ribs fitting
tightly into the lower part; the centre of this is
something like a big wheel, from which the ribs
radiate, being left open to allow the smoke from
the fireplace to escape. This fireplace in the centre
of the apartment is usually a rough sort of iron


254 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
By “rich,” I mean being the possessor of many horses
or camels and head of cattle and much yamba, as
Chinese bar silver is called, for gold is not valued
at all by the Mongols. The average yourts were
indescribably filthy, not only serving as shelter for
A MONGOL.
families of several persons of both sexes herded
indiscriminately together, but in many cases for
sheep or goats with their young. As, added to
which, the smoke from the fire as a rule only
partially escapes, the atmosphere under such con-
ditions may be imagined. Living, therefore, in such


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 255
human pigsties, it is not to be wondered that the
ordinary Mongol presents an extremely unsavoury
appearance, so that it. is often difficult to tell
whether nature gave him a black or a white skin;
for they are not a water-loving race, cleanliness
evidently not being one of the appurtenances of
godliness from Mongol-Buddhist point of view.
The curious fashion of the women fixing their
hair in a sort of circle round their faces by means
of massive silver ornaments has often a very in-
congruous effect, as I have seen old hags, dressed
in a mass of rags which a professional London rag-
picker would pass in disgust, with quite a little
fortune on their heads, in many cases even among
the poorer classes to the value of £30 or £40 ! All
the family savings go first towards providing a wife
with the orthodox jewellery, as a girl is not spoken
of as a “woman” till her hair is dressed properly—
never mind the rest of her wardrobe. Among the
very poorest classes I have occasionally seen strips
of wood used when silver could not be afforded,
but this is very exceptional. Of course, in their
dress, as in their dwellings, there are social class
differences, and the rich or noble Mongols wear
clothes of the finest silks of the most gorgeous hues,
their wives and daughters being decorated with
costly silver jewellery of exquisite workmanship.
Among women of the higher classes are to be found
actual beauties, and the curious method of arranging


256 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
the hair is really very becoming when it encircles
a pretty face with sparkling eyes and pearly teeth.
I remember on one occasion seeing a princess riding
through Ourga who was so startlingly beautiful that
the apparition simply took my breath away; it was
like a vision from the “Arabian Nights,” and for
several days after I felt quite “smitten" with the
lovely unknown one, and my appetite suffered con-
siderably in consequenceſ
Although as a distinct nation the Mongols are
slowly disappearing, owing to gradual fusion with
the Chinese, still there are many amongst the
descendants of the old princes who yet cling to
the idea that the glorious times of Genghis Khan
will again return, and that some day another such
leader will appear and restore to this once so mighty
race its old prestige. In fact, there is one sect
amongst the people who believes that Genghis Khan
is not dead at all, but has only disappeared for a
time, and will on some not very distant date again
return to earth; and in the national songs the name
of this hero and his great deeds are continually
appearing. En attendant this millennium, however,
the Mongols have lost all trace of the formidable
warriors they were in the past, and have lapsed into
such quiet and inoffensive beings that it is hard to
realize they are descendants of the mighty horde
which once conquered Russia, and threw all Europe
into a state of panic. Of their old national cha-


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 257
racteristics but one really remains—their wonderful
horsemanship; for I believe that the Mongols as a
nation enjoy the undisputed reputation of being the
finest horsemen in the world, and this in spite of
their, to European ideas, somewhat ungainly seat
in consequence of the use of a short stirrup. One
can imagine what magnificent cavalry these men
must have made under their old leaders. However,
7'evenoms a nos moutons.
As we gradually neared the confines of this
“steppe,” trees appeared on either side, till we
were in a sort of open forest when we reached the
foot of the hills. Out on the plains, in the brilliant
sunshine, there had not been the slightest trace on
the ground of the recent heavy falls of snow; but
among the trees and on the higher ground it still
lay thickly, and gave a very cold and wintry appear-
ance to the scene. The extreme mildness of the
temperature was, however, rapidly doing its work,
and under the genial rays of the sun the remaining
vestiges of winter fast disappearing. The road, in
consequence, was in an awful state, in many places
the water and mud being so deep as to render it
almost impassable. Our three game little horses,
however, struggled bravely on, and, without any
further excitement than the waving of the driver's
puny whip, managed to get us along.
With the exception of a couple of hours' rest in
the middle of the day, we pushed on steadily till
s


258 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
nightfall, when we reached the station where the
halt for the night was to be made—a couple of
yourts close together forming a sort of Mongol farm,
where my driver from experience knew he was
certain to be able to get hay and water for the
horses. I do not think I was ever in a more gloomy
or depressing spot. It was a sort of narrow valley
between two high hills, with scarcely a trace of
vegetation. Heavy clouds, gradually coming up,
now quite obscured the sky, and the deadly stillness
of the air betokened some approaching change in the
weather during the night. All around were curious
looking objects lying on the ground. In the twilight
I could not at first distinguish what they were, but
on a nearer inspection I discovered that these were
dead oxen. I counted fourteen lying within a few
yards of the huts; and, judging from the odour, I
imagine they must have been dead some considerable
time. On inquiring of my driver the reason of so
wholesale a slaughter, he told me that they had not
been killed, but had died from starvation, owing to
the severe winter. The wretched inhabitants of the
two yourts, in the apathy caused by their misfortunes,
had not the energy to remove the decomposing
carcases out of sight. I could not help feeling
thankful that we had encamped far enough away to
be clear of the perfume of this pestilent farmyard.
The night I passed comfortably enough wrapped
up in my dacha in the tarantass, whilst my driver,


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 259
used to the peculiarities of Mongol life, sought his
couch inside one of the yourts. Towards morning
it came on to blow and rain, and in a short time
such a tornado burst over us, that I expected every
minute the ramshackle vehicle would be blown
bodily over; fortunately, however, it was heavy
enough to withstand the gale, which abated almost
as suddenly as it had arisen, and when towards five
o'clock we made a start, it was a beautifully clear
morning, with every promise of a fine day. The
country presented now, if anything, a more desolate
appearance than any we had hitherto passed through
—it was a “desert” in every respect. All around
were low sandy hills, without even a bush to break
their monotonous appearance; not even a blade of
grass was to be seen on the wide expanse of stone
and sand. The aspect was uninteresting in the
extreme, so I got my driver to “hurry up a bit,”
so as to get out of the dreary surroundings as quickly
as possible. We had to do the next eight hours with
scarcely any stoppage, as there was no sign of any
human habitation anywhere in this solitude, and no
human beings meant no water or hay for the horses,
so we were obliged to push on at any cost. About
one o'clock we at length sighted a few wretched
yourts, and in a few minutes drew up at the
station, after the longest stage we had yet made.
The horses did not seem very fatigued, however; as
long as they got plenty to eat and drink, the


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 261
(twenty-eight miles) to do before we reached the
next station, and that on the way a nasty bit of river
had to be crossed, I was still more anxious to push
on, so as to reach our encampment before dark if
possible. For several miles the road now lay along
a level plain, intersected here and there by small
brooks, swelled into rushing torrents owing to the
recent rains, and which in many cases were only with
great difficulty crossed, as the banks were generally
very steep. Owing to the many delays and the
frequent big détours we had to make, night was upon
us when we at last reached the river the yemschik
had told me of in the afternoon. By this time the
wind, which fortunately was at our backs, had
changed to a piercing cold gale from the north, and
snow was beginning to fall heavily. There was every
prospect of an extremely dirty night, and one which
I should not have cared to be out in anywhere under
any circumstances, still less in a rickety tarantass
on the desolate steppes of Mongolia. In the darkness
I could hear the rushing sound of the swollen river
as it raced by, and I could just manage to discern its
turbid stream by the large masses of ice floating by
like ghosts in the gloom.
It was anything but an encouraging spectacle, and
had there been the slightest sign of anything to
afford a kind of shelter, I should have persuaded the
driver to wait until daybreak before crossing; but
all around was bleak, open plain, over which the


262 FROM THE ARCTIO OCEAN
merciless wind blew with ever increasing force, and
the driving snow felt like so many needles, so there
was absolutely nothing for it but to chance getting
across the river, as the man said the station was
only some ten versts off. The horses, however,
evidently took a different view of the matter, and
it was some time before they could be got to advance
even to the water's edge, and still longer before they
would venture into it. It was an awkward moment,
for they started plunging and kicking to such an
extent, that I expected every moment to find myself
in the water with the tarantass on the top of me.
We had nearly got over, and without any incident,
for the water was barely four feet deep, when my
saddle horse was seized with ungovernable fear, and
managed to break loose somehow, and bolted back
as fast as he could. A few minutes after and we
were safe on the opposite bank.
In the mean time the snow was coming down so
thickly that everything was already completely
covered with it, so much so that it was impossible
to distinguish the track leading from the river. In
vain did the yemschik get down and search about
on his hands and knees for some clue to guide him
as to its whereabouts. His efforts were futile, for there
was absolutely nothing to go by; and although after
a few minutes' search he got up and drove off full
speed, I felt convinced by his manner that he was
on a wild-goose chase. And so it proved, for in a very


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 263
short time he pulled up again and once more got
down to have another search. But it was useless,
as I could see by the bewildered way in which he
was looking about, and every minute made the
chances of hitting on the track still more remote,
for all this time it was snowing so thickly that it was
almost impossible to see a yard ahead. The cold
was also intense.
On the man getting back on to his seat, as I
thought with the intention of driving on further,
I asked him what he intended doing, as I felt
sure it was useless risk going on blindly, and
perchance getting turned over into some gully or
losing ourselves quite hopelessly. At first he did
not reply, and when he did it was only to mumble
out something about hearing dogs barking close by,
so there must be a yourt near. I listened, but heard
absolutely nothing but the roaring and screeching
of the wind; when, on looking at the fellow again,
I saw to my horror that he was going to sleep—the
long exposure to the cold was beginning to take
effect. Sleep under such conditions I was well aware
meant death, so I immediately sprang up and com-
menced shaking him as hard as I could, and after a
while succeeded in waking him. I then told him
that I had decided not to risk going on any further,
but to remain where we were till morning, and that
we should have to unharness the horses and make
them as comfortable as we could with some oats,


264 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
which we providentially happened to have left.
Suiting my action to my words, I got out and lent
him a hand as well as I could, although it was more
to show him that I intended to stand no nonsense
than to really help; for Siberian harness is a com-
plicated arrangement of tied ropes and straps, which
wants some knowing before meddling with it in the
dark. My determination had the desired effect, for
in a very few minutes we had the horses stalled on
either side of the shafts, which we managed to prop
up, and by placing a piece of loose sacking over them,
made a very good impromptu manger, out of which
the three hardy brutes were soon eating their oats as
tranquilly as though in a stable, paying not the
slightest heed to the snow or wind, so used are they
to be out in all weathers.
All being secure, I then ordered the man to get
into the tarantass and roll himself up in his sheep-
skin, and after a stiff glass of vodka apiece, to keep
out as much cold as possible, I attempted to go
to sleep. I say attempted, for very little sleep did
I get, and I hope never again in my life to spend
such a wretched night as I did that 8th of April.
The cold seemed to come in at every corner and
crevice of the hood which sheltered us, and it was
almost impossible to get even the chill off one, whilst
the whistling of the wind around and the uneasy
movements of the horses combined to keep me from
anything but just dozing off till the welcome dawn


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 265
appeared; and with it the weather cleared up and the
storm abated. Then what a magnificent spectacle
presented itself to my eyes on looking out of the
tarantass 1 in spite of being cramped in every joint
with the cold, I could not help being impressed with
the grandeur of the effect. We were right at the very
foot of the mountains, which, covered with snow,
towered high up above us, like dim white monoliths
against the deep blue sky, their summits, which caught
the rays of the rising sun, glowing like solid gold.
The yemschik, who had got up some little time
before me, had been meanwhile reconnoitring for
the lost track, and eventually found it only a short
distance away, but quite in another direction to the
one we had been proceeding in ; so it was fortunate
we had not gone on, as he himself owned. The
horses, though naturally not looking over-bright,
appeared none the worse for their exposure to the
storm, so, before proceeding to the station, the man
suggested his galloping back on one of them a short
distance, to look if he could see anything of our run-
away. This I agreed to ; so off he went, and, as
luck had it, returned in less than an hour with the
delinquent in tow. He had found it on the bank of
the river, close by where it had bolted. We were
not long in reaching the station after this, and, in
spite of its grimy interior, I managed to make myself
really comfortable in front of its cheerful fire till
it was time to start again.


266 FROM THE ARCTION OCEAN
We had now reached the cruz of the journey to
Ourga, the pass through the Manhati Mountains.
I gathered, from what the Mongol of the yourt was
telling my yemschik, that the road further on was
in a very dangerous condition, and that therefore he
would go with us part of the way, to lend a hand in
case of accident. We therefore made a start, under
the pilotage of our good-natured host, and he and
I rode on a little distance ahead to ascertain the
condition of the track after the storm. The sharp,
exhilarating morning air and the bright sunshine
considerably helped to liven me up again, and even
my wiry little horse, with a good feed inside him,
was as game as possible, and evidently not a bit the
worse for his night's outing. It had undoubtedly
been a very severe frost during, or immediately after,
the storm, for the steep track was simply coated with
ice; so we had to proceed very cautiously indeed, and
pick our way along as well as we could between the
rocks, the heavy tarantass following us up very
slowly. In many places the road followed the very
edge of a precipice, where any accident would pro-
bably have been followed by disastrous consequences.
It took us two hours to reach the top of the defile,
and then, after a few minutes to rest the horses,
during which time I had opportunity to fully enjoy
as fine a panorama of forest and mountain as I have
ever seen, we started on the downward journey,
which, if anything, offered still more difficulties than


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 269
minutes a sort of Mongol-Bourriat chaff commenced
at my expense, although, of course, I understood but
very little of what was said. Well, this went on
for a little while, during which I was positively
hemmed in by the crowd, who would persist in
feeling my clothes and otherwise making me very
uncomfortable. My usually small stock of patience
was getting exhausted, and I felt my “back getting
up.” At last I could stand it no longer. The leader
of the gang, who had been doing his best to distin-
guish himself in his attempts at “chaff,” having
asked me several questions in Russian which I did
not understand, I told him curtly that I did not
understand him, as I spoke but very little Russian.
“Ah,” said the fellow, imitating my accent, “ you
don't speak Russian, don't you?” and there was a
general roar of laughter at his imitative powers, at
the same time one of the crowd was violently pushed,
or rather thrown, against me from behind.
This was sufficient. My blood was up, so, swinging
round my elbows to clear myself some room, I
deliberately turned up my cuffs and, going up to the
leader, shook my fist close under his nose, at the
same time telling him as well as I could that
although I could not speak Russian that could any
language, as I would soon show him if he wanted
to try. My determination had a magical effect, for
he retreated a few paces, and, smiling in a sheepish
sort of way, replied that he did not understand the


270 FROM THE ARCTIO OCEAN
Angliski Boze, and added something in an under-
tone to the men near him, at which they all gradually
moved off and left me master of the situation. I
was not interfered with again after that. I had
pulled off a successful “bluff”.
On nearing Ourga snow once more began to show
itself thickly on the ground, and the temperature
gradually lowered till it was so chilly even in the
sunshine that I had to keep my furs on. We were
now in sight of the last spur of mountains which
separated us from the plain in which Ourga is
situated, and had a very steep bit of track to do
for the next hour or so. At last we reached the top,
where was a huge cairn, consisting of bones, stones,
and all sorts of rags and odds and ends, offerings to
Buddha by pious Mongols on reaching the end of
their journey, or the top of the mountain. As it
was now all downhill work till we reached our
destination, I lit my pipe and composed myself
comfortably for the remaining hour before me. But
my comfort was destined to be but of short duration,
for the track down the mountain-side, in fact the
whole way, was simply awful, and the shaking and
bumping I got during that hour makes me feel sore
even now to think of The heavy springless tarantass
having to go over rocks and gullies which would
have smashed up any ordinary conveyance in a few
minutes, I got the man to drive slowly in the
hope of lessening the shocks as much as possible,


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 271
for I was doubtful whether my inside could hold out
long under such treatment; but slow or fast seemed
to make but little difference, so at last in despair I
ordered the man to get over the ground as rapidly
as possible, in the hopes of getting to my destination
with, at any rate, some of my most vital arrange-
ments unimpaired. At length a welcome turn in
the road showed me that my sufferings were nearly
ended, for on the plain below I saw a huge con-
glomeration of dirty yourts and wooden palisades,
with here and there a somewhat higher building to
break the dull level monotony. This dreary place,
looking doubly wretched in the wintry surroundings,
was the capital of Mongolia, the sacred city of Ourga,
of which I had heard so much and travelled so far
to see. It was a disappointing sight, to say the
least of it, and, with the recollection of my long and
comfortless journey still fresh in my memory, the
first thought that crossed my mind was, le jeu me
vaut pas la chandelle.


272 FROM THE ARCTION OCEAN
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE SACRED CITY OF OURGA.
The Russian consul, M. Feodroff—Hospitality of the Consulate
—The “lions” of Ourga—The colossal statue of the
“Maidha”—The “Bogdor of Kurene”—An impromptu
interview— Prayer-wheels — Praying boards—Religious
fervour of the Mongols.
DISAPPoINTING though
the first view of
the sacred city un-
doubtedly is, when
seen from the moun-
tains, it certainly im-
proves on a nearer in-
spection. As I drove
through the broad
principalthoroughfare,
which was thronged
with as noisy and pic-
turesque a crowd as
could well be ima-
gined, I could not help coming to the conclusion
that, however uninteresting its buildings were, among
its inhabitants, at any rate, I should find ample scope
A STREET MUSICIAN, ourg.A.





ºcu， ºd ºovae º/Jºvou mo ‘auvaihtonomiohael "ivci10 Niſidi ahli,


274 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
from the centre of interest; so I made up my mind
to put up with anything in the shape of accommoda-
tion in Ourga itself. I received a very kind and
truly Russian welcome from the Consul, M. Feodroff.
The fact of my being a total stranger, unprovided
even with a letter of introduction to him, appeared
to make no difference. He had heard I was coming,
so took it for granted that I, like other travellers,
would stay at the Consulate. On my informing him
of my desire to find, if possible, a lodging in the
city itself, he good naturedly offered to do his best
to help me, but added that he doubted my being
able to get anything comfortable, as there were only
seven European houses, and these so small that their
accommodation was naturally very limited. In the
mean time he begged me to make myself at home at
his place.
The Consulate, I found, was quite a little colony in
itself, consisting of the men employed by the consul
and their families, each having their own quarters.
One wing of the building was used as a post-office;
for, although on Chinese territory, the postal service
across Mongolia and through China to Peking and
Tientsin is conducted entirely by Russians. Besides
the actual personnel of the establishment, there was
also a guard of five Cossacks under the command of
a non-commissioned officer. In spite, however, of the
attractions of the comfortable quarters I was in, I
reminded my hospitable host the very next day of


TO TIIE YELLO W SEA. 275
his promise to help me find a room in the city, so
shortly after we drove into Ourga together, with a
mounted Cossack galloping on ahead, as is always the
case whenever the consul leaves his house. After a
lot of persuasion one of the merchants agreed to take
me in as a boarder at his house, and to give me half
a room occupied by one of his employés. The next
day, therefore, saw me installed in what were to be
my “diggings” during my stay in the sacred city,
and as they were in the very centre of the busiest
part of the place, I had not to go far in search of my
subjects, for I could almost get them by looking out
of the window. The charge for the accommodation,
considering how rough it was, struck me as very
dear for Ourga ; but I was informed that living in
Mongolia is (for Europeans) not cheap, as almost
everything has to be brought from Siberia.
Ourga, or, as it is called by the Mongolians,
“Bogdor Kurene”—which means the settlement of
the Bogdor—though it contains nearly fifteen thousand
inhabitants, cannot even by the wildest stretch of
the imagination be called a city with any architectural
pretensions to beauty. With the exception of the
Chinese portions of it—only a small part—its streets
consist of mere rows of high wooden palisades, which
enclose the space in the centre of which is erected
the inevitable yourt; for so nomadic is the Mongol
by nature that, even when settled here in the capital,
his old instincts compel him to continue dwelling in


276 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
his original tent. The effect, therefore, of these long
monotonous rows of rough logs, relieved at regular
intervals by tall wooden doors, all exactly of the
same pattern, is indescribably dreary; and, were it
not for the two or three large open spaces where a
bazaar is daily held, there would be but little to see,
for Ourga has but few “lions.” There is really only
one building of any pretension in the place, and that
is the large wooden Buddhist temple which enshrines
the huge gilt-bronze figure dedicated to the apostle
“Maidha.”
Either the Mongols don't know or won't tell—most
probably the former, but, at any rate, I was unable
to find out anything about this mysterious figure, or
how or when the immense mass of metal was brought
to the desert city. It is certainly not less than forty
feet in height, and is in the familiar seated position
in which Buddha is always represented. In fact, I
should have taken it for that divinity had not my
informant, a Mongol, insisted on its representing
“Maidha,” who, I afterwards learned, is one of the
Mongol Buddhist apostles, and one much prayed to
in Mongolia. The body and extremities of this
immense figure are draped in yellow silk, and are
almost lost in the surrounding obscurity; but the
face itself, which is surmounted by a majestic crown,
is lighted up by a hidden window in front of it; so
it stands out in foreshortened relief against the
darkness of the dome, which gives it a certain weird


TO THE YELLO W SEA. 277
appearance that is somewhat increased by the eyes
being painted a natural colour.
Still, Ourga is most interesting, representing as it
does one of the standpoints of the Mongol Buddhist
faith, and the capital of a fast disappearing nation;
for here is the abode
of that most holy of
holy personages, the
“Bogdor of Kurene,”
and long and weary
are the pilgrimages
frequently made by
devout Mongols for a
glimpse of this myste-
rious man, who occu-
pies in their faith
almost the same posi-
tion as the pope does,
or rather did in former
times, to the Catholics.
It is for this reason
A PiLGRIM FROM THIBET.
that Ourga is spoken
of as a sacred city, and ranks immediately after the
mystic capital of Thibet, Lhassa, where is the abode
of the prophet of Buddha, the living God, the mighty
Dalai Lama, and which is yet a forbidden place to
unbelievers.
The Bogdor of Kurene is a sort of branch establish-
ment, in Ourga, of the head office at Lhassa; for all


278 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
Bogdor are supplied exactly of the same youthful age,
when required, by the Dalai Lama himself. It is
difficult to learn what are the special aptitudes
necessary for this high position, for the average
Mongol is very reticent on matters concerning his
faith; but, at any rate, whatever they may be, the
Bogdor seems to have a very good time of it here, for
he has little or nothing to do but to live on the fat
of the land and to say prayers all day. What more
can a man want } He has no voice in municipal and
State matters, which are conducted entirely by a
Manchurian general, representing China, and by a
Mongolian prince. There is, however, just one little
drawback to being so august a personage. If the
Bogdor conducts himself as his numerous Lamas
consider he ought to do, all goes well; but unfortu-
nately youth will have, or tries to have, its fling, and
even a Bogdor is, after all, only an ordinary mortal ;
so when, as has been usually the case up to now, the
youth, arrived at years of discretion, wished to
meddle in affairs which did not concern him, or to
indulge in pleasures not consonant with his austere
position, he suddenly died; he was snuffed out, so
to speak, how or when was never known, nor were
any questions asked ; and in course of time another
Bogdor arrived from Lhassa to take his place, and
perchance also to meet the same fate. Very few of
these holy youths have lived much beyond the age
of twenty. The first of the line, two hundred years


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 279
ago, however, was an exception, for he died a natural
death, at the advanced age of seventy; he evidently
knew how to take care of himself. The present
representative, who is twenty-two years old, is likely,
I hear, to prove another exception; for it is said that
he is of a very different stamp to his predecessors,
and is, for a Mongol, a most enlightened man, taking
a great interest in all modern subjects and inventions.
He has even had his photo taken (for strictly private
circulation only), and has a piano in his palace, which
was presented to him by a former Russian consul
here. - -
Although to obtain an audience of the great man
is, for a European, an absolute impossibility, still he
can often be seen; for he rides out constantly, and
on several occasions I have seen him, accompanied
by his suite. In fact, the first of these occasions
formed rather an amusing incident, and may be
interesting. Seated on horseback, I was one afternoon
busy making a sketch near his palace, when sud-
denly I heard shouting, and, looking round, saw that
the people near were trying to draw my attention
to a sort of cavalcade, preceded by two horsemen
bearing a huge white silk standard, approaching me,
and which I had not until then noticed. To start a
fresh sketch was the impulse of the moment, for it
was a gallant sight, which almost recalled the Middle
Ages. The costumes were really gorgeous. In the
centre of the main group was a pale-faced youth


280 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
dressed in bright yellow silk, the crown of his fur-
trimmed hat covered with gold, which glittered like
a halo on his head. Although I had some idea that
he must be some very exalted personage, in spite of
the frantic shouting of the people around, I went on
quietly with my sketch, just for the fun of seeing the
adventure out. In a few seconds they were close to
me, when, to my astonishment, they all galloped up
to where I was, and I was surrounded by a curious
and inquisitive crowd, who had probably never
seen a sketch-book before. The pale-faced youth,
who looked something like an Englishman got up for
a fancy-dress ball, appeared to be the most interested
in my proceedings, and put several questions to me
in Mongol, which, of course, were unintelligible to
me, so I replied in Russian, saying I was an English-
man and did not understand Mongolian. Evidently
this was considered a capital joke, although I had
not intended to be humorous; for they all laughed
heartily for a few moments, and then some one said
something to the pale-faced youth, and they con-
tinued their ride. Immediately they were gone the
people came up, and, pointing to the horsemen, said,
“Bogdor Bogdor " in a reverential sort of way,
making signs that the youth with the gold roof to
his hat was that august person himself. So I sup-
pose I can claim the honour of being the first
European who has had an “interview” with this
inaccessible personage.


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 281
N
The Bogdor of Kurene is supported on the same
principle as are some of the London hospitals—that
is, by “voluntary contributions only;” yet so fervent
are the Mongols in all matters connected with their
religion, that the amount of donations of all sorts
which annually reach him is sufficient to support him
and his numerous suite
of Lamas in a grand and
fitting style. All is grist
which comes to the Bog-
dor's mill; so everything,
however small, is accept-
able, and the poorest
Mongol can offer his
humble tribute.
By the way, I was
much by the
number of Lamas I met
struck
everywhere in Mongolia;
almost every other man
seemed one. On inquir-
ing, however, I found
* --
------
A LAMA.
that, although there are so many, most of them
are only so in name, but a comparatively small
proportion are really priests.
It is customary, out
of every family where there are several sons, to make
at least one of them a Lama.
From his earliest
childhood his head is shaved, this being the great
distinguishing outward mark between the Lamas and


282 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
ordinary individuals; and though, perhaps, he may
not in after life serve as a priest, still he can never
marry. The title of Lama, therefore, in most cases,
is but a very empty one, and carries nothing with it
except the obligation to wear always yellow and red,
and to dispense with the pigtail and many other
comforts of life.
Still, I could not help feeling that the Mongols
are, in their way, a very religious people, and, as
I have remarked before, their devotions form an im-
portant item in their daily routine; though, perhaps,
to an unbeliever in the Mongol Buddhist faith, these
devotions may seem to take a form which is some-
what astonishing. Still, it cannot be denied they are
carried out with great sincerity. Among the principal
features of Ourga are the “prayer-wheels,” which are
placed for public use in most of the big open spaces.
These wheels, or rather hollow wooden cylinders, are
placed under cover of rough wooden sheds, and
present at first sight a very curious appearance.
Most of them are covered with Thibetan inscriptions,
and all are completely filled with prayers written
on pieces of paper. In order to pray, all that is
necessary—beyond, of course, a sincere faith in what
you are doing—is to walk round and round inside
the shed, and turn the cylinder with you; the more
turns the better. Many of the old people, while
operating the large wheel with one hand, at the same
time diligently turn a small portable one with the


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 283
other; a rosary suspended from the wrist is also
considered an almost indispensable adjunct. Many
of the wheels were very large, so that several people
*-*
-
* : *
-
* - ------ ºut".
- --~~ ---
---
*** -
-"
A PRAYER-wheel, ourg A.
could pray together; but most of them were small,
and evidently were only used for private communion,
the sheds in many instances being decorated with


284 FROM THE ARCTION OCEAN
odds and ends of silk and bits of rags, intended as
offerings to Buddha.
Apart from the wheels are the “prayer-boards,”
also placed for public use in various parts of the city,
and on which are continually to be seen prostrate
figures lying on their faces, and thus literally
humbling themselves to the very dust. From a little
==-->
PRAYER-BOARDS, OURGA.
distance, these boards presented a very ludicrous
appearance, which so reminded me of the familiar
spring-board in a swimming-bath that I never passed
them without an inward grin—if you can imagine
what that is—for any outward sign of mirth at the
strange proceedings would probably have got me
into trouble. The whole action of the people using


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 285
them was exactly like that of a person preparing
to make a run along the board and take a
“header” rather than a prelude to a devotional
exercise.
I don't think I was ever in a more strangely
religious place than Ourga. Everywhere, at the
most unexpected places, at all times, one often saw
people throwing themselves suddenly face down-
wards, full length on the ground, saying their
prayers, just as the fit took them, I suppose, these
curious proceedings attracting no attention. Many
a time I have been riding quietly along, when all
of a sudden my horse would be made to swerve
violently by some hideous old man or woman, who
was seized with an irresistible impulse to say 8.
prayer just in front of its feet. And their devotions
do not end here, for every yourt, however humble,
not only contains a family, wheel, but is decorated
outside with innumerable “prayer-flags,” or rather
bits of rag, tied on to strings suspended from poles all
round the palisades. Till I was informed what they
were, I took them for bird-scares, for they could not,
even by the wildest stretch of the imagination, be
taken for flags. If the Mongols were only a quarter
as industrious in ordinary everyday pursuits as they
are in their religion, the Chinese would not, as they
do, monopolize all the trade of the country, while its
inhabitants sit about on their hams twirling their
prayer-wheels or manipulating their rosaries, quite


286 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
content, if they only earn enough to keep them from
day to day.
The sight of a nation's decadence is always a sad-
dening spectacle; but that of the once so powerful
Mongol race being gradually but surely extinguished,
by the people they once conquered, is a still further
and overwhelming instance of Darwin's theory of
the survival of the fittest. Although, beyond the
annual rearing of a few ponies, camels, and cattle
by some of the richer families, there is no actual
industry, and the bulk of the populace live from
hand to mouth, there are but few signs of actual
want. Of course there are poor, wretchedly poor,
people in Ourga, who live, or, rather, manage to
exist, in the most awful hovels. But still, during the
whole month I spent in the sacred city, I was never
once pestered by a beggar ; indeed, I never saw one.
Ourga, in this respect, offered an agreeable con-
trast to most of the Siberian towns I was in, where.
one could never leave one's hotel or lodgings without
finding quite a little crowd of them lying in wait.
Whether this is a relic of the old national pride, I
cannot, of course, tell, but I give it as a curious and
remarkable fact.
The absence of beggars was, however, but the one
redeeming feature of this dirty and disappointing
city—or, rather, I don't think that this could be
called a redeeming feature, for it was more than
counterbalanced by the immense quantity of dogs


“ºritz old old story ALL THE won LD over.”
[To face p. 286.





288 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
I ever had was one afternoon here, when, accom-
panied by a Russian friend, who spoke a little
English, I was returning from a stroll around. In
order to make a short cut, we passed through a
number of narrow back streets, and while going
along the very narrowest of these we suddenly heard
a sort of hoarse murmur behind us, which was
quickly getting nearer. On looking back to see
what it was, we saw a big cloud of dust, and in the
midst of it a huge crowd of dogs, coming towards us
at full speed, with one wretched-looking brute on
ahead of them, which they were evidently chivying.
The few people in the street made a rush for their
doors, and got inside their enclosure without much
hesitation. “It is a mad dog ' " exclaimed my com-
panion, at the same time pulling me close to the
palisade behind us, which was flush with the road.
We stood with our backs to it, as flat as we could
make ourselves, and in less time than it takes to tell
it the whole pack were abreast of us, with the poor
hunted beast, covered with blood and dirt, snapping
and biting viciously right and left at his tormentors
as he flew past. Fortunately for us, they were too
occupied to direct their energies in our direction,
though they actually had to squeeze by us, so narrow
was the street. I did not feel comfortable again
until some little time after they were out of sight.
The savage nature of these brutes will be more
readily understood when it is remembered that the


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 289
Mongols, in accordance with their creed, literally
throw their dead to their dogs, and never bury them.
Old or young, rich or poor, the custom is universal,
forming as it does part and parcel of their religion.
When a Mongol dies, the body is wrapped up in an
old coat and is taken a short distance outside the
city on to the hills, where it is placed on the ground,
with only a “prayer-flag” over it to protect it, and
is then abandoned, not to the mercy of the elements,
but to the hundreds of dogs who have already scented
their feast and are waiting patiently by. No sooner
are the mourners out of sight than the dreadful
repast commences, and in an incredibly short time
nothing remains of the lifeless body but a few scraps
of the covering it was rolled in. A general battle
usually takes place over the body among the savage
brutes, with the result that human remains are soon
strewed over the ground, and the scene is too ghastly
for description. As there is no cemetery or particular
spot for depositing the dead, one not infrequently
comes across a stray bone or a skull which has
escaped those hungry canine sextons, and these poor
vestiges of frail humanity certainly add to the
desolate surroundings of the desert city. Such a
wonderful instinct have the Ourga dogs, that I am
told they will often wait for days outside a yourt
where a person is dying.
The currency of Mongolia is peculiar, and takes a
lot of getting used to. On one occasion I bought
U


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 291
prefer the bulky article to the flimsy paper substitute.
When, after a time, this currency becomes injured by
hard usage, and chipped round the edges, it is used
for the usual purposes of tea, and it may be imagined
what a delightful beverage it makes after it has been
passing from hand to hand for some months among
the dirty Mongols! However, these children of the
desert are not fastidious, and the greasy-looking stuff
is broken up and literally put to stew in the common
cauldron of the yourt, where, eaten with millet seed,
it makes a dish much appreciated for some days.
This dish is to the Mongol what the samovar is to
the Russian, and if one is on intimate terms enough
to visit a “big man” in his yourt, almost the first
thing he offers you is a basin of tea, which is usually
poured out of a metal jug begrimed with the dirt of
generations. I remember on one occasion, accom-
panied by a friend who spoke Mongolian, visiting
a Mongol who was rather a swell in his way, for his
yourt, which I had been anxious to see, was fitted up
with some pretension to “style.” We seated our-
selves in the usual manner, on the floor, and our host,
after a few minutes of conversation, of course offered
us the inevitable tea. This was what I wanted
particularly to avoid, but there was no getting out
of it this time. A particularly unwholesome-looking
old hag then dived into the gloomy recesses of a sort
of cupboard, and produced three wooden bowls con-
taining some greasy-looking compound, which she


292 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
forthwith proceeded to clean out with her grimy
fingers, finishing up by polishing them vigorously with
the tail of her gown; these tasty receptacles were
then placed before us on the ground, and filled with
some vile liquid which bore no more resemblance to
the “cup which cheers but does not inebriate" than
does the proverbial chalk to the proverbial cheese.
It would have been an insult to the man to have
refused his hospitality, so for the next five minutes
I was racking my brain how to get out of even
sipping the awful stuff. My companion, who was
used to Mongolian customs, was not so delicate in his
tastes, and managed to get through his bowl all
right, at the same time advising me to try and do
likewise, so as not to offend the man. Providen-
tially at this moment some one came to the door
of the yourt to speak to our host, and we all got up,
I immediately taking advantage of the opportunity
to quietly empty the contents of my bowl into a dark
corner near me. We shortly after took our leave, in
spite of the old Mongol's pressing invitation to stay
and have a drop more tea; and when we got outside
the yourt, my companion, who had not noticed my
manoeuvres, but had observed the empty bowl, re-
marked that he knew I should like Mongol tea if
I once tried it!
It was fortunate I had plenty of work to occupy
me, for there was little or nothing to do but to stroll
round about a sort of market-place, where a bazaar





mer · ， ， !
ºvºm no ‘uvvzwa w No.1 nºv nauwvo anii, ni


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 293
was daily held, and where everything almost could
be bought—Mongolian, of course. This market alone
offered almost endless scope for my pencil, for it
always presented interesting scenes. One part was
devoted to camels and ponies, and it was amusing
to watch the zeal displayed by the owners of some
promising lot when a likely purchaser appeared.
When I was at Ourga one could get a very decent-
looking pony for about two pounds (sixteen roubles),
which was not dear, considering; for I don't think
it is possible to get anything really good for less any-
where—this, I believe, will be conceded. In Southern
Mongolia, in the district bordering on China, these
serviceable little animals fetch much higher prices,
especially if they show any sign of speed; and the
district at certain times of the year is overrun with
agents from Shanghai and Tientsin racing-men on
the look-out for promising “griffins,” ” and compara-
tively big sums of money are paid for them. Apart
from racing purposes, the Mongolian ponies make
capital hacks when trimmed up a bit and knocked
into shape. I could hardly believe that the smart,
well-fed, carefully groomed animals I saw in Peking,
Tientsin, and Shanghai were originally rough, un-
kempt brutes of the desert, so great was the trans-
formation.
Another part of the market would be occupied by
• A “ griffin" is a young untrained horse which shows signs
of “speed.”


º-
:
z








'%ſ ºd wy or]ºvbuno ‘Noºitia aill, acıisimo holayıs v
… ºntºivo ,, ahol ao lwawusixm.ae！a.hu,


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 295
practices, and usually found that the best way to put
a stop to them was to catch hold of the man nearest
me, and to begin turning him about, as I was being
treated myself, and to examine him as though he were
for sale. This nearly always raised a good-humoured
laugh. If, however, it did not succeed in so doing,
I had another plan, which I reserved as my grande
finale, and which rarely failed, for the time, to rid
me of the unpleasant crowd. I would take out my
pipe and slowly fill it, every movement I made being
watched with rapt attention by the bystanders; then
I would produce a small magnifying-glass I always
carried about me and proceed to light up with the
aid of the sun-no difficult or lengthy an operation
on a hot morning. This seemingly mysterious feat
would simply strike the onlookers dumb with amaze-
ment, and they would generally draw back instinc-
tively a few paces. I would then walk quietly away,
leaving them to unravel the mystery as best they could.
Still, in spite of its uncivilized condition, there is
yet some show of keeping order in the city, although
the poor, inoffensive Mongols never struck me as
having it in them to be guilty of any big acts of
violence; petty larceny maybe, but nothing more
than that, for they don't seem to have pluck enough
left to do anything really bad. There is, however, a
fairly large body of police to represent law and public
authority; these look after the place by day, and
during the dark hours watchmen with gongs parade


296 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
the street, and combine with the dogs to make night
hideous. Besides these varied arrangements, there is
a regiment of Chinese soldiers quartered on the out-
skirts of the town, forming a sort of body-guard to
the Chinese resident general, who represents the
suzerainty of the First Cousin of the Moon over
the Mongol Tartars, and who, in conjunction with
the Mongol prince, constitutes the Government of
the whole territory, for the Bogdor's power is merely
spiritual, and he has actually nothing to do with the
management of State affairs.
Still, I could not help feeling how much more
under Russian than Chinese influence everything was
in Mongolia. For instance, the consul at Ourga Was
undoubtedly a far more important personage than
even the Chinese general himself, and from what
I learnt, I believe the late consul, M. Shismaroff,
was practically the leading man of Ourga, for he was
not only very much esteemed and looked up to by
the Mongols, but was actually consulted by them
in most State affairs. The fact of all the trade of
the country being virtually in the hands of the
Russians may to a certain extent account for this
ascendancy; but be it what it may, one thing is
certain, that a Cossack cap inspires an incredible
amount of respect in these distant regions, not only
among the Mongols, but also the Chinese themselves;
for there seems to be, as far as I could make out,
a pretty general apprehension, or rather conviction,


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 297
of what would happen were a subject of the Czar
to be offered any insult. During my subsequent
journey through China I was much struck with the
difference of the footing on which English and other
nationalities are placed with regard to the Chinese.
The days in Ourga passed by very slowly indeed,
and had it not been for the work I had laid myself
out to get through, the month I spent in the sacred
city would have been very dreary indeed, for the
whole time I was there but one event occurred to
break the eternal monotony of the stagnant existence.
This was the annual commemoration of the festival
of the Maidha, on April 23, the most important of
yearly celebrations among the Mongol Buddhists. For
days beforehand the city was in the throes of pre-
paration, the various markets were shifted to other
temporary quarters, and the streets through which
the procession was to pass were invaded by hordes of
youngsters, whose mission was to clean up the roads
as much as possible—and it was no easy matter, con-
sidering that they are all used as open sewers. The
mode of procedure was certainly novel, if nothing
else. The bulk of the filth was swept into big heaps,
and shovelled into dried bullock-hides, to which ropes
were fastened. A dreary sort of chorus was then
started, and the load was dragged away and deposited
on some other road, generally only a few yards
distant.
The appointed day arrived, and from an early hour


298 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
the populace thronged the different open spaces
where the best view of the proceedings could be
obtained. Fortunately, the weather was fine, so the
coup-d'oeil was very animated and interesting; the
procession—which was really three processions moving
abreast—was certainly most imposing in effect, and
quite Oriental in the brilliancy of the colours dis-
played. It was composed exclusively of Lamas, and,
from the length of it, gave me a fair idea how many
of these men there are in the capital alone. On all
sides were to be seen huge waving banners, with
strange devices on them, and surmounted by still
stranger carvings; immense coloured umbrellas, on
stands, each drawn by several men; also crowds
fantastically attired, marching along, beating large
drums shaped like big warming-pans, others blowing
musical instruments of forms and shapes impossible
to describe; while in the centre of this immense
moving crowd was a huge sort of trophy, on wheels,
and surmounted by a large wooden horse, painted
red, and sheltered from the rays of the sun by a big
multi-coloured umbrella fixed over it. This was
evidently the pièce de résistance, for it towered high
above all the rest. Close behind it, surrounded by
a crowd of the highest Lamas, was a bright yellow
sedan-chair, in which reclined the sacred Bogdor
himself.
The procession, making a tour of the city, with
certain halts at different spots, either for refreshment





[To face p. 299.
AN OURGA BEAUTY.


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 299
or religious observance—I could not quite make out
which, probably both—occupied the greater part of
the day, many of the rests being for as long as an
hour, all the men then squatting on the ground in
lines round the centre trophy. I managed to get
a very good view of the early part of these pro-
ceedings from the roof of a friend's house, and then
took my horse, and rode through the crowd to inspect
it more closely. I don't think I ever saw a more
gorgeous display of costumes and jewellery. Some
of the women were dressed in the richest of silks,
and were literally one mass of silver decorations from
head to foot; back and front, every available part
was covered with the very quaintest ornaments
imaginable, till they had the appearance of walking
jewellery shops—and they seemed not the least afraid
of being robbed while pushing their way through the
crowd. Of course, most of the élite were on horse-
back, and it was curious to notice how, even in far-
away Ourga, “the old, old story” is still the same;
for I saw many really pretty girls surrounded by
quite a little crowd of admirers, flirting away just
like their sisters in the civilized world.
One touch of nature makes the whole world kin,
and for a moment I felt quite lonely at not knowing
any of them, and being able to join in the fun. The
days following all this animation were very dull
indeed, and I could not help thinking that even a
few more religious processions would have helped to


300 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN TO THE YELLOW SEA.
liven dreary Ourga up a bit. As it was, I found
myself eagerly looking forward to my journey across
the desert to the Great Wall; and had I been able to
curtail my stay, I certainly should have done so,
but—


MY CAMEL-CART. [To face p. 303.


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 307
I could not help wondering what inducement the
dreary Mongolian waste could offer to any young
and active man, for him to elect to pass his life in
it, so to speak; for, although the same Cossacks
accompany the mail right across China, as far even
as Tientsin, they only stay long enough there for the
contrast of the life in the busy town to appear even
more marked in comparison with their own mono-
tonous existence. Yet there are men, in most cases
married, who actually give up the best years of their
lives in this obscure and remote postal service—and
for what ? The Cossack Nicolaieff received, I learnt,
the munificent sum of twenty roubles (£2 10s.) per
month, out of which he had to keep himself and
family Stepanoff, who was his junior, received
somewhat less. Of course, it must not be forgotten
that living is cheap in these parts. Still, 12s. 6d.
per week is not a big sum to keep a large family on.
It has seldom been my luck to come across two
such thoroughly good fellows as these humble
Cossacks, and it was with a real feeling of regret
that I separated from them at the end of the journey;
for I don't think that I ever met two men working
together in more absolute harmony of friendship.
There was none of the effusiveness one sees in the
higher walks of life, but there was, I noticed, a
certain quiet and unobtrusive steadfastness between
them which meant volumes more than all the “old
chap" this or “old man” that could ever convey.


308 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
Duty bound them together, and with the implicit
obedience to it which is an instinctive quality in the
character of the Russian soldier, they did their work
together like men and brothers.
It was with a feeling of relief that on May 7 I
left the dreary desert city of Ourga, though certainly
not without some forebodings of the hardships which
would have to be endured before I reached civiliza-
tion. Eight hundred miles of sandy waste lay
between me and the Great Wall of China—a sandy
waste which, for utter desolation and monotony, is
probably without an equal in the world. I do not
propose to give a chronological account of the tedious
journey; events were so few and far between during
the long and tiresome marches that a description of
the routine of one day will suffice for all. The start
for the day's journey was usually made at daybreak,
when in a few seconds the sleeping encampment
would become a scene of bustle and movement. The
dawn was scarcely visible in a faint streak of rosy
red on the horizon, when the drivers would be
awakened by the leader, and preparations at once
made for the start. All had to be repacked on the
camels, and mine reharnessed to my cart, everything
being finished and ready to proceed in an incredibly
short space of time. No time whatever was wasted
in toilet arrangements or even refreshing the inner
man, and, although I would often have given any-
thing for a cup of hot coffee or Bouillon Fleet before


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 309
starting, I did not like to disarrange the evidently
invariable custom of making an early start, by delay-
ing the caravan for the preparation which the making
of such a beverage would have involved.
Long shall I remember those dreary, weary hours
which always preceded our first stoppage, for no halt
was ever made until close on noon. A bite of biscuit,
perhaps some preserved icy-cold tinned meat, washed
down by a limited quantity of stale water sucked
through a pocket-filter, was my only breakfast—a
THE MIDDAY HALT IN THE DESERT.
breakfast so complete in its discomfort as to require
the very keenest appetite to do justice to it. The
appetite Ifortunately usually possessed, for the bracing
air of the desert acted on one like the strongest tonic.
The noonday halt after seven or eight hours of
incessant jolting in the cart was a veritable oasis in
the discomfort of the day, as at this time I could
make at least some attempt at an imitation of a
civilized meal. At this time also the benefit of my
little portable stove was simply inestimable; it fairly


310 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
astonished the simple Mongol. Still, even this
attempt at a square meal was never unattended by
discomfort, for in the middle of the day a cold
piercing easterly wind was invariably blowing, and,
although the Cossacks always pitched their tent, the
open air was preferable to its smoky, malodorous
interior with a fire in the centre. Two hours and
a half were usually the limit of time allowed for the
midday rest; then the boys would be sent off to fetch
back the camels, which would often stray far away
from the encampment in search of pasturage. Then
the tent was struck, loads readjusted, the caravan
marshalled into its usual order, with my cart leading,
and once more we started on another dreary and
monotonous spell, which only terminated late at
night.
Our rate of progression, even under the most
favourable conditions, never exceeded three and a
half miles an hour. It was usually managed so that
we should have reached a well when we halted; still,
the precaution was always taken of filling our water-
barrels whenever the opportunity offered, so as not
to have to rely on doing the exact distances between
the wells. These distances varied very considerably
from fifteen up to even thirty miles; but the water
varied still more. I thought, when I was up-country
in Africa, that I had drunk the most repulsive water
it would ever be my lot to have to put up with, but
I had not then been in the Gobi Desert. Even my


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 315
a welcome change after the flatness of the plains.
Right in the very midst of these hills, nestling as
it were under their shelter, to my surprise we came
upon a miniature town, which I had never even
heard of before. This, I learned, was Tcho-Iyr, a
Lama settlement, entirely inhabited by Mongols who
are devoting their lives to religion.
It was a lovely day, the finest one we had had as
yet, and in the still air and the eternal silence of
THE LAMA SETTLEMENT OF Tcho-IYn. IN THE Gobi DESERT.
the surroundings the effect was very impressive, for
it was indeed “asleep in the sunshine of the East,”
and “far from the busy haunts of men.” I therefore
persuaded Nicolaieff to halt the caravan for a short
time, so that I could have a stroll around the quaint
little place, with my sketch-book and camera; and
very pleased was I afterwards that I had done so,
for it was one of the prettiest spots I saw in Mongolia.
On a nearer inspection it turned out to be larger
than I had first taken it to be, and absolutely


316 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
different from what I expected to find, for the quiet
pervading the streets was quite in keeping with the
proximity to the vast desert—there was, in fact,
quite the atmosphere of religious seclusion which
one feels in a monastery. But what struck me most
was the wonderful cleanliness I saw everywhere, and
I don't think that, for its size, I ever saw its equal.
Everything looked spick and span, as though it
were cleaned carefully every day. There was also a
striking absence of dogs, those pests of Mongolia.
One could stroll about without being continually on
the qui vive, as in Ourga. Instead of a conglomera-
tion of dirty yourts, there were trim, neatly built,
whitewashed cottages, of absolutely the same outward
appearance as English ones, not so large perhaps, but
still strangely reminding one of far-away England.
Curiously enough, I did not see anything at all
similar to them anywhere else, either in Mongolia or
China; nor could I find out why this style of build-
ing was exclusively confined to the pretty little
desert settlement.
My appearance naturally created quite an excite-
ment, for I was probably the first Englishman that
has ever visited the place, which is, I believe, out of
the usual caravan route ; and the appearance of a
stranger in their midst will doubtless form the subject
of conversation for a long time to come. Still, I
was in no way annoyed—a little crowded in, perhaps,
but that I was beginning to get accustomed to, and


[To face p. 316.
I TAKE TEA WIth A LAMA IN The GOBI DESERT.





FROM THE ARCTIC ocEAN TO THE YELLOW SEA. 319
the sea-level, the temperature of the great plateau of
Mongolia is never high, even in summer; but in
winter the cold is excessive, almost as great as in
any part of Siberia, and the desert is covered with
several feet of snow.
Although I had a Winchester rifle and a fowling-
piece with me, and a store of ammunition, the sport
I managed to get never compensated me for the
bother of carting the heavy load about. During
the whole time I was in the desert I did not fire off
more than one hundred rounds, and these with but
a very poor result; still, what I did get was large,
and helped to increase our larder. From what I
saw, it struck me that there is really very little sport
to be got in the Gobi. It is true one often saw in
the distance many herds of antelope, but, owing to
the flatness of the country and the entire absence
of cover, it was almost impossible to get even within
range of them. If I had been a dead shot at, say,
eight hundred or nine hundred yards, I might
perhaps have done some execution, but, unfortu-
nately, I am not. There was also a species of bird
something like a very large wild goose, which the
Cossacks called “Kuritze,” which was splendid
eating, not unlike venison. I managed to get
some of these with my rifle, as they were not so shy
—one in particular must have weighed twenty or
thirty pounds, and it lasted us several days. Some
districts abounded with a curious animal not unlike


320 FROM THE ARCTION OCEAN
a rabbit, which the Mongols called “Tarbargan.”
These were easily got, probably because they were
no good for eating purposes, even the Mongols
refusing a couple I shot. Other parts of the desert
were simply covered with large mounds, which the
Cossacks told me were made by “Koshki,” a sort
of wild cat which burrows in the ground. I never,
however, saw any of the animals, though we were
passing through their haunts for days. Small green
|
IN THE GOBI DESERT-A TEA CARAVAN ON ITS WAY TO SIBERIA.
(From a Kodak photograph.)
lizards seemed to thrive everywhere, even in the
most arid places; in fact, I don't think I ever saw
so many before. A peculiar kind of beetle, which
covered the ground in great numbers, seemed con-
fined to a certain district or undefined zone, for once


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 321
out of it they disappeared. Often in the early
morning, when the sleeping caravan was aroused
to prepare for the start, wolves would be seen
prowling around at a short distance from us; but
they always got away before I could get the sleep
out of my eyes and my rifle ready. So it cannot
be said that animal life in the Gobi is extensive
enough to be considered good sport, or sufficient to
enliven the monotony of travelling across it. Of
course, I am speaking only from my experience on
the caravan route ; possibly in the more remote
districts of the vast waste, on the Manchurian side,
are animals in abundance, but they are too far away
to be “get-at-able.”
On May 15 we reached a post-station which stands
at a place called “Oud-en,” exactly in mid-desert,
consisting of a couple of yourts in charge of a
Russian. It would be impossible to imagine any-
thing more unutterably lonely and dreary than this
little station. For miles before we reached it the
desert was simply a vast expanse of bare rocks,
without the slightest sign of vegetation to break the
monotony of their dull muddy-grey colour. It
almost appeared as if the most bleak and wretched
spot had been purposely chosen for the “post-
station,” for there was not even a Mongolian yourt
within miles, and even the nearest water was some
distance away. I could not help thinking that exile
to the most far-away Siberian villages would be
Y





'cae ºd powror]
"minºt wiww.ox.a. mino or, ºmoliºra xoivri
: Altiºlººſt inon ºtru, wr


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 323
lighthouses and other lonely and far-off places where
other men would simply go raving mad in a short
time. We stayed the night here, for our fresh
camels had not arrived, and did our best to make a
merry time of it, the postmaster giving us quite a
feast, and producing a large bottle of some awful
stuff, which I learned was “Chinese vodka,” to wash
it down with. Somehow, though, laughter seemed
out of place in this remote solitude; for, to me at any
rate, the death-like silence outside seemed as if
endeavouring to reassert itself during every pause in
the conversation. The Gobi is no place for frivolity.
We were astir betimes the following morning, and
after a hasty breakfast and a final stirrup-cup with
our host, the caravan was fairly got under way, and
we were once more en route for the Celestial Empire.
We were now over the top of the hill, so to speak,
and every step brought us nearer our destination,
though we still had many weary days before us.
So few incidents worthy of note occurred during
the next week that I will pass over the remainder of
the journey through the Gobi itself. Suffice it to say
that from one side to the other of it, with the ex-
ception of an occasional oasis, its desolate aspect
remained unchanged. I might here mention how
curiously everything in the desert became charged -
with electricity; my furs simply crackled like biscuits
when touched.
At length, on May 23, there were signs that we


---
--- -
--- --- -
-a- -- -- -
º
YE GENTLe Shepherdess of Ye steppe.
--
[To face p. 324.





326 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
how much they all resembled one another; they all
seemed part of one huge family. The children
throughout China were simply stunning, and quite
pictures in themselves.
Our caravan drew up in the courtyard of the
house, and the baggage was transferred from the
camels to several curious-looking carts, built expressly
for the road through the mountain-pass to Kalgan,
a distance of some sixty miles. It was well on in
the afternoon by the time our preparations were
complete and we were ready to start again. I forgot
to mention that my cart still remained with us,
though it was now only a camel telega in name,
for, instead of a “ship of the desert,” two diminutive
mules were harnessed tandem fashion in the shafts.
The mail-carts were drawn by mules and donkeys,
harnessed together anyhow, driven by Chinese
“boys.” It was certainly a grotesque procession,
and one scarcely worthy of so high sounding an
appellation as the “Russian Heavy Mail,” and very
out of place did the Cossacks with their official caps
look, seated on the top of the heap of heterogeneous
baggage.
Although there is no visible boundary-line between
Mongolia and China, the difference was manifest
immediately we left Saham-Balhousar. On all sides
were small hamlets scattered about the plain, whilst
the country was laid out in plantations and fields,
which were simply teeming with industrious peasants.


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 327
It was a very different scene from anything met with
over the border amongst the lazy Mongols.
Towards the evening the plains ahead of us were
walled in by what appeared to be a line of low rocky
hills. In vain I looked for the magnificent mountain
range which I had been told encompasses Kalgan,
and over the summit of which the Great Wall winds
its immense length; yet we were certainly near
enough, I thought, for any really high mountains to
be visible by now, but nothing at all like a mountain
was in sight. It was getting dusk, and the moon
rising, when we reached the confines of the plain and
began to descend a hill, or rather a steep rocky road
leading right into the hills themselves, and which at
every instant grew steeper and rougher.
After proceeding for some little time I noticed
quite by accident that the moon, which was at its
full and shining gloriously in a cloudless sky, was
becoming gradually obscured; we were evidently
going to witness an eclipse, and just at a time when
we wanted as much light as possible to help us pick
our way amongst the boulders with which the track
was encumbered. Much to the dismay of our drivers,
it grew darker and darker, until at last not a speck
of light was left even to indicate where the brilliant
orb had recently been, and our boys of their own
accord halted the caravan and bowed themselves
repeatedly to the earth, muttering prayers and incan-
tations. It was so weird and supernatural an effect,


328 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
that it made me almost think I was in a dream. This
idea was, however, soon dispelled, for the road was
realistic and material enough, for it had meanwhile
been getting so steep and rocky, and the path so
narrow, that we all had to walk and lend a hand at
getting the waggons through.
I then suddenly remembered that the whole plateau
of Mongolia is more than five thousand feet above
the sea, so we were almost level before with the tops
of the mountains which form the northern boundary
of China. This, then, was the rocky range of hills
we had been approaching during the evening; we
were now, therefore, on our way down into the
Celestial Empire. As we gradually descended, the
granite cliffs and peaks loomed up higher and higher
around us, and so dark was the night, that at times
it became positively dangerous to advance owing to
the obscurity and the numerous precipices along the
edge of which the track lay. The moon remained
hidden for nearly two hours, till just as dawn showed
signs of breaking, when she began to appear once
more, to the evident relief of our followers. Half-
way down, at the end of the worst bit, we halted for
a couple of hours to have a rest and feed the animals,
and I felt so knocked up after my long and rough
walk, or rather climb, that I immediately fell into a
deep sleep, from which I only woke just as we were
starting again.
It was now broad daylight and a lovely morning—


330 FROM THE ARCTION OCEAN
bumped to pieces somewhat marred, however, my
appreciation of the scenery through which we were
passing.
We were now quite close to our destination, and
the traffic around us increased every moment; in a
short time, a turn in the road showed me the welcome
sight of a big cluster of houses. This was Yam-
booshan, a suburb of Kalgan, where lived the Russian
tea merchants, and to one of whom I had a letter of
introduction. My journey across the “Great Hungry
Desert” was accomplished, and I was once more
within touch of civilization.


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 331
CHAPTER XXVI.
KALGAN TO PEKING.
A hearty welcome—Yambooshan—The Great Wall of China–
American missionaries — My mule-litter—From Kalgan
to Peking—Scenery on the road—Chinese inn–First
experience of a Chinese dinner—Amusing rencontre—The
Nankaou Pass—The Second Parallel of the Great Wall—
First impressions of Peking—The entrance to the city.
THE town of Kalgan stands at the very entrance to
China proper, for one enters it through an archway
in the Great Wall itself, and it is only, therefore, when
the venerable portals are passed that one is really
in the Celestial Empire. The suburb of Yambooshan,
where the Russian postmaster and tea merchants
kive, is quite a little town in itself, outside the wall.
As I had a letter of credit on one of these gentlemen,
a M. Bassoff, of the firm of Kargovine and Bassoff, I
went straight to his house, in order to get some
Chinese money and to exchange the brick tea I still
had left, for this ponderous currency was now of no
further use to me. It is almost unnecessary for me
to state, that I was received with the usual Russian
courtesy and hospitality. M. Bassoff was away, I
was informed by his representative, a gentleman clad


sTREET scENE, YAMBooshAN: showING THE “GREAT wall” on MoUNTAIN
IN THE BACKGROUND.
[To face p. 332.





334 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
winding away over the tops even of the highest
mountains, had been raised as a serious defence of
the empire in bygone days. However, I took the
trouble to climb up the mountain to it, and it was
only when I found how long it took to reach it
that I began to realize its size. Of course it is so
dilapidated that one can only conjecture what its
original appearance was like ; but although un-
doubtedly big, its dimensions were, to me, very dis-
appointing. The base, of course, one cannot measure,
as it follows the sinuosities of the ground, and in
some places, therefore, is much wider than in others.
The height also varies considerably from the same
cause, but I should think, at a rough guess, it
averaged twelve feet on the inside; on the outside
it is in many places à pic with the sides of the
mountain. I found I could sit astride the top, so it
is not very wide. In shape the Kalgan Wall is
conical, its base being formed of huge boulders
loosely heaped together; at intervals of half a mile
or so are rough towers, each capable of containing a
few soldiers. -
I found Kalgan even more curious and interesting
than I anticipated it would be ; in fact, I could never
have imagined such a sight as met my eyes. The
streets were well-nigh impassable, not only on account
of their fearfully badly paved state, but on account
of the immense amount of traffic of all sorts. I don't
think I ever saw such a busy or novel scene as


336 From THE ARCTIC OCEAN
the envoyés of Uncle Sam. The mission station was
a large brick building, standing in its own grounds,
which were laid out as an attempt at a garden, and
surrounded by a high wall. I was received by a
Mr.
manner which, so far as my own experiences are
in the usual cold, distant, narrow-minded
concerned, seems peculiar to this particular pro-
fession; and after a few trivial remarks about the
weather and other everyday topics (for my arrival
seemed quite an ordinary occurrence to him), I was
asked into the house and introduced to Mrs. >
and we made some further attempts at a con-
versation. It was scarcely more than an attempt,
however, for my visit did not appear to gratify these
worthy people over-much. After about ten minutes
of digging out syllables on my part, the gentleman
left the room, apologizing for having to get on with
his work, or something of the sort; and I took the
hint, and my departure also. It is almost needless
to add they did not press me to remain or to call
again. As I rode away from this inhospitable abode
I could not help mentally contrasting the reception
I had just received with the hearty welcome I had
invariably been shown throughout my travels amongst
the Russians, who never can do enough for the
stranger within their gates.
A couple of days in dirty Kalgan were more than
sufficient to see all there was to see; therefore I was
not at all sorry when Nicolaieff came in the next


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 337
afternoon and announced the departure of the mail
for Peking on the following morning; so I had to
set to and make my further preparations for the four
days' novel journey to the capital.
The Russian Heavy Mail is conveyed from Kalgan
to Peking by donkeys and mules, carts being almost
impracticable owing to the mountainous districts to
be passed over. Travellers who do not care to
ride the whole distance have to provide themselves
with what is known as a “mule-litter.” This is not
only a novel conveyance to the average European,
but owing to its subtle peculiarities affords also a
continuous vein of excitement, which is a great
change after the monotony of the bumping and
shaking of a camel-cart. If the mules behave
themselves and don't walk in step, the motion is
simply delightful; but this state of beatitude is
unfortunately the exception, and the bad qualities
of the mule seem to develop themselves to an
exasperating degree as soon as the animals find
themselves attached to one of these litters; and as
the occupant is completely at the mercy of the two
animals carrying him, it may be imagined what an
exciting time he has of it. Before travelling in a
mule-litter I had always imagined, from what I had
read, that the mule was the most surefooted of animals,
and that he was more at home, so to speak, when
passing along the very verge of a yawning precipice
or crossing the frailest of bridges than on a level
Z


340 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
of blue-coated Celestials. Night was on us long
before we reached the crenelated walls of the city
where we were to put up till morning, and for miles
and miles we had to skirt them till we reached the
entrance gateway.
There was something indescribably weird and un-
canny in these seemingly endless battlements, standing
out in black and forbidding relief against the starlit
sky; and this gloomy impression was in no degree
lessened when we at length reached the frowning
archway from which issued the hoarse murmur of
the congested barbaric life within its precincts, and
immediately after our entrance the iron-bound gates
were closed with a clattering and clanging which
reminded me that the civilized world was thus com-
pletely shut off from us till the next morning.
Knowing what I did of the uncertainty of the
Chinese character, I could not help feeling that in
the event of any hostile feeling arising against the
“white devils” during the night, our chances of
getting out of the place were positively nil.
It took some little time to reach the “inn,” for
the streets were, as usual, crowded—at times even
quite blocked with traffic, and in the uncertain
flickering light of the paper lanterns presented a
scene not easily to be forgotten. At last, however,
we reached our destination, and I was able to form
some idea of what a Chinese inn is like. I fancy I do
not run much chance of being contradicted by any


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 343
of choice, and the stuff they give you is plentiful
and cheap at the price. I tried one meal, but the
experiment made me so ill for several days after,
that I never desired to repeat it. Till I had tasted
Chinese cooking I had fondly imagined that I had
A “Room” IN A ChiNESE INN.
a “gem "
of a digestion, and could eat almost any-
thing. I was, however, undeceived in North China.
The mere recollection of that awful, interminable
dinner, washed down with a vile, lukewarm con-
coction, which the Cossacks called “Chinese vodka,”
and which had a taste like what I imagine would be


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 345
long, so to go up and ascertain whether he really
did hail from the old country was naturally the
impulse of the moment. His surprise at meeting
an Englishman in such an out-of-the-way place was
equal to mine at meeting him, for he had taken me
for one of the Cossacks in charge of the mail, he
told me laughingly. I then learnt he was travelling
through with his wife to visit some missionary
friends in North China, and intended spending the
summer there. I was then introduced to the lady,
who came out at that moment, on hearing English
spoken. They both naturally wanted to know what
brought me in such outlandish parts alone, and
where I had come from (for they had not taken me
for a missionary, so they said—and I believed them ),
and seemed much astonished when I told them that
I had just come from Siberia, and across the Gobi .
desert.
“I suppose you have not seen any of the London
papers recently, then 2" said the gentleman; and, on
my replying that it was many months since I last
saw one, he added that as I had just come through
Siberia, it would doubtless interest me very much to
see a lot of pictures of prison life in that country,
which had been appearing for some time past in
the Illustrated London News; so many, in fact,
that the paper seemed to have devoted itself to
Siberia, for some reason or other. It may be
imagined how this information tickled me; for it





TO THE YELLOW SEA. 349
Chinese foot, but wearing the more sensible Man-
churian shoe.
Nankaou also impressed itself on my memory on
account of the awful amount of flies everywhere ;
in fact, they were positively maddening, as there
was no getting away from them. One's food, if
left exposed for only a few seconds, became covered
with what resembled a moving mass of jet. Up till
then I had been enjoying a comparative immunity
from insect pests, but I should now have to pay the
penalty of having continuous warm weather and
sunshine. These flies were, however, insignificant,
compared with what I had to endure later on, when
the mosquitoes and sandflies never for a moment left
me alone night or day.
We were now rapidly nearing the end of our long
journey, and evidently beginning to get in touch, so
to speak, with the capital, the country becoming if
possible even more cultivated, and the stream of
traffic along the road more and more congested. I
now began to get a slight foretaste of what heat
and dust in China really mean ; for at times every-
thing within a few yards on either side was lost in a
dense sort of fog, through which the moving, perspir-
ing masses of people appeared to be groping their
way tediously. At last on the horizon, not very far
ahead, I made out a long dark line just visible
above the surrounding trees. At the same moment
Nicolaieff, who was riding close to my litter, pointed


350 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
to it, and, with a smile of satisfaction on his sunburnt
face, informed me that the walls of Peking were
before us.
Our goal once in sight, the time did not seem so
long in reaching it, and in less than half an hour we
were advancing in the midst of a dense crowd, under
the shadow of the massive crenelated battlements,
towards the entrance of the immense city. In
comparison to its size, there are but few entrances,
and these far apart, and we had to follow the walls
quite a long way before we reached an archway, but
not the entrance to the city itself, for on the other
side of the vast walls were the inner walls enclosing
the Tartar city, our destination, a wide expanse of
waste ground separating them from the outer enceinte.
Along this dusty, stony waste hundreds of caravans
and vehicles and passengers were passing to and fro.
It was a strange scene, and rendered doubly so by
the weird hoarse murmur of the great city so close.
The venerable walls seemed almost endless, at any
rate to me, for I was all impatience for the wonders
which I felt sure were coming.
At last we reached the principal entrance, a huge
tunnel-like archway through the thickness of the
walls themselves. With difficulty, and advancing but
very slowly through the throng of people, we made
our way in, and I found myself in a vast open square
paved with immense slabs of stone. This square was
surrounded on all four sides by the city walls,


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 353
CHAPTER XXVII.
PEKING.
Exciting times—A chat with Sir John Walsham—The Chinese
city—Horrible scenes—Social life at the Legations in
Peking—Lady Walsham’s “At homes"—The hardest-
worked man in the East—Interesting evening with Sir
Robert Hart—His account of his life.
PEKING, though perhaps from its general appearance
the last place in the world where one would expect
to find a good European hotel, can boast of a really
fair hostellerie—fortunately for such travellers as find
their way to this out-of-the-way city; and after the
long and dusty ride through the crowded streets, it
may be imagined what a relief it is to find one's self
in this welcome oasis. The Hotel de Pékin, as it
is somewhat humorously called, is part of a large
general store kept by a genial Frenchman, M. Taillieu,
who many years ago came out to the Far East to
make his fortune, and has ended by settling down
in the Celestial capital as a sort of purveyor to the
different Legations. Travellers are not numerous
here, so the hotel is but a sort of anneace of the
store; still, the accommodation was all that could
be desired, and the living, which was a kind of
2 A


354 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
family table-d'hôte, was excellent, and fairly cheap
considering.
I happened to arrive in the city at a particularly
exciting time, just after the anti-European riots and
murders on the Yangste, and the air was full of dis-
quieting rumours of approaching troubles. In fact,
on the very day I reached Peking the walls of the
various European compounds had been covered with
placards calling on the people to rise that night and
exterminate the “foreign devils.” Nothing, however,
came of it, fortunately, and the night passed without
the slightest indication of any hostile feeling on the
part of the inhabitants. As a matter of fact, had
anything occurred I should probably not now be
writing this, for the Europeans in Peking are in
the unenviable position of the proverbial “rat in
a hole; ” as, whatever resistance they might offer
were they attacked after nightfall, the result would
be absolutely inevitable, as no outer help could reach
them. At eight every night the city gates are
closed, and as the telegraph wires are outside the
walls, all communication with civilization is thus
completely severed.
Of course my first duty was to call at the British
Legation and pay my respects to Sir John Walsham,
our Minister to the Court of Peking. I had already
heard a lot about the magnificence of the palace
which represents Great Britain in the capital of the
Celestial Empire, but I was unprepared for the


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 357
smelling streets, where one cannot take a step without
having one's eyes or nostrils shocked by some abomi-
nation or other. I have heard Canton described as
the most hideous city in the Far East, but I fancy
Peking runs it pretty closely. It will give some idea
of its horrors when I state that I don't think I ever
went through the Chinese city without seeing the
dead body of a beggar lying about somewhere. I
well remember my astonishment on the first of these
occasions. Accompanied by a friend and a guide, I
was passing along a very crowded thoroughfare called
the “Beggars' Bridge,” when I espied a poor emaciated
wretch in a state of absolute nudity, lying in the
centre of the pathway right out in the broiling sun.
He was in such a twisted, contorted position, that I
remarked to my boy—
“That's a queer place for a man to sleep,
Joe.”
“He no belong sleep, sir; he belong dead man,”
replied Joe in his quaint “pigeon English.”
It might have been a dead dog for all the notice
the body attracted. The busy crowds passed to and
fro, evidently so used to such sights that they never
even thought of moving it on one side, or even of
covering it up.
It is to live in the midst of such barbaric sur-
roundings that civilized nations have sent their
representative ministers with their families.
Still, in spite of the many inevitable discomforts,


858 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
social life amongst the Europeans in Peking seemed
to me pleasant enough in its way, for there was
always plenty to do; and when I was not working,
the time never hung heavily on my hands, for the
hospitality I was shown whilst there was quite equal
to anything I had experienced in Siberia, and that
is saying a good deal.
With such a charming and hospitable an ambassa-
dress, it may be imagined that the life of the little
colony centred itself, so to speak, round the British
Legation, and Lady Walsham's “At home” days
were events to be looked forward to ; and the coup
d'asil during the afternoon, when tennis and tea were
in full swing and the gardens crowded, was as pretty
as it was unique, the temple-like buildings in the
background forming a telling contrast to the white-
clad figures under the trees or on the lawn.
I was particularly fortunate in arriving in Peking
during the “season,” for towards the end of June,
when the heat and dust become insupportable, its
European residents betake themselves up into the
hills, where many disused temples are annually con-
verted into temporary country-houses, and, from all
accounts, very charming places they make.
No description of European life in Peking would
be complete without some reference to that most
striking personality of the East, Sir Robert Hart,
the Inspector-General of the Chinese Imperial
Customs, so a brief résume of an extremely in-


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 359
teresting evening I had the pleasure of spending
with the great man will doubtless be of interest.
It was Sir Robert's “At home” day, for every
Wednesday afternoon he receives his numerous friends
in the beautiful grounds surrounding his house, and
from six till eight there is tennis and dancing on the
spacious lawns. A delightful sense of calm prevailed
in this snug and cool retreat, which was a great
relief after the continual turmoil and dust outside,
a sense of relief in no way marred by the distant
strains of the excellent band playing on the lawn—
not a Chinese band, thank goodness, but thoroughly
European in all but its musicians, who are Chinese
boys in the Customs service, and who look strikingly
quaint in their national costumes, with their pigtails
rolled round their heads like chignons under their
straw hats.
The entertainment was concluded, and I was about
to take my leave, when Sir Robert whispered in my
ear, “Don’t run away, but stay and have a bit of
dinner with me en tête-à-téte.” I naturally jumped
at the chance of a quiet and informal chat with the
great man, so accepted the invitation without hesi-
tation. By-and-by the company gradually left,
and we had the beautiful gardens to ourselves. It
was such a calm and lovely evening that I could
not help remarking to Sir Robert as we strolled up
and down, that life in Peking would not be so bad
after all if every European had such a beautiful


362 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
write a book of reminiscences which would be of
thrilling interest.”
“Yes,” replied my genial host; “but although it
has often been suggested to me to publish such a
book, I shall probably never carry it into effect, for
once I commenced there would be no end to my
souvenirs.”
“But how did you come to attain the wonderfully
influential position you now hold?”
“Oh, it was simple enough,” replied Sir Robert.
“It came about somewhat in this fashion. After I
had been in the Consular service five years, I was
invited to join the Chinese Customs. This was
shortly after Lord Elgin's treaty, when certain ports
were to be opened to Europeans. Something inspired
me to accept the offer; one thing led to another, and
in 1861 I was made Acting Inspector-General, in the
place of Mr. Lay, who was going home on leave for
two years. A few months after his return to China
he was compelled to resign, and I was appointed
Inspector-General in his stead. So in four years I
had risen to the highest post in the service. In those
days the position was not nearly so important as it
is now, for the Chinese Customs Service was in its
infancy. It has since grown to such huge dimensions
that the work it entails is something incredible. In
1861 there were only three ports open to Europeans,
whereas there are now thirty; the ramifications of
the system extend as far south as Tonkin, and in





TO THE YELLOW SEA. 363
the north to Corea. Over seven hundred Europeans
and three thousand Chinamen, of all classes, are
employed in the land service alone. The entire
coast-line is guarded by twenty armed cruisers of the
very latest types, built in England, most of them by
Armstrong. These cruisers are commanded by
Europeans and manned by Chinese. There is,
besides, quite a flotilla of armed steam-launches
used in the various harbours. The lighthouses along
the coast are also under my jurisdiction. Each port
has its European commissioner, who has acting under
him a Chinese official and staff of assistants, European
and otherwise.”
“How do you admit Europeans into the service' "
I asked. “Have you a competitive examination, or
are special qualifications necessary?”
“Well, it is very seldom there is a vacancy,”
replied Sir Robert, “but when there is, there are so
many candidates on the waiting list that my agent
in London has a sort of examination held ; but, of
course, a man with some knowledge, however slight,
of Chinese has the best chance of getting the berth.”
“But how is all this supported ?” I naturally
asked, though aware that the Chinese Government
got a splendid revenue out of the Customs service.
“The Chinese Government,” replied Sir Robert,
“allows about £400,000 a year for the support of the
service. This is absolutely under my control; also
the appointment or dismissal of all officials. The


364 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
Chinese Customs are assuming bigger proportions
every year, and are an ever-increasing source of
revenue to the State. The great mistake that
foreigners make with regard to China is to imagine
that she is in want of extraneous pecuniary assistance
—that she is bordering on a state of insolvency.
Nothing could be more erroneous; it is rather the
other way. If the Chinese monied men only trusted
their own Government a little more, China would
undoubtedly soon be in the position of being able to
lend money to other countries. Putting this aside,
China is not trying, nor has she ever been trying, to
borrow money, though many German, French, and
other syndicates have been doing their utmost to lend
her some.”
I could not help remarking that this was a very
enviable position for a country to be in.
“Besides,” continued Sir Robert, “the system of
such loans is contrary to Chinese ideas; for a China-
man prefers a short loan at a high rate of interest to
a long one at a low rate. I have been much amused,
knowing what I do, to hear of agents of syndicates
stopping in Peking for months at a time on the chance
of floating a loan. In several cases, in their anxiety
to do business, they were on the point of doing so
with the wrong people. After all, the Chinamen are
no better than they ought to be ; and as it takes so
little to make the average European believe that
every well-dressed Celestial is an official mandarin,


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 365
they often took advantage of this simplicity of the
Western barbarian. There were some extraordinary
cases, a few years ago, of people being introduced
to these agents as the Grand Chamberlain of the
Court, or some other high dignitary, empowered to
negotiate a loan. They were absolutely nothing of
the sort, but were perhaps connected with officialism
in the remotest and obscurest way. In some in-
stances, however, though not what they pretended
to be, they were actually connected with the big
officials. This was proved by the fact of the Govern-
ment, though not officially recognizing the loan thus
obtained, still assuming to a certain extent the
responsibility of it, as it had been used partially for
official purposes. Very little, however, has transpired
of these curious transactions.
“As it has been with loans, so it is with railways.
Undoubtedly China will one day have her railways,
but though she has for years past been pestered with
offers by foreign capitalists to help her start them,
so far the reply has always been that when the time
comes the engineers, the capital, all, in fact, that is
needful, will be found by China—a strong hint, which
has not, however, been taken, that no foreigners need
apply. Of one thing I feel convinced,” continued Sir
Robert, “that China, though certainly very many
years behindhand, is undoubtedly going ahead—
advancing slowly, it is true, but still advancing, and
every step she takes forward is a certain one. In


366 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
spite of sarcasm and adverse criticism, she adheres to
her slow, steady pace, and, so far, has never receded a
single step. As compared with Japan, she reminds me
always of the old adage of the hare and the tortoise.”
Having finished our coffee, we rose from the table
and had a stroll through the suite of rooms in which
Sir Robert dwells in solitary grandeur. There was
a striking absence of the curios which one would
have expected to find in the quarters of a man who
had passed so many years in the Far East. Beyond
his work Sir Robert had evidently but few hobbies.
In one corner of the drawing-room was a large table
covered with the Christmas cards which my host
received last year from his many friends all over the
world, whilst on the walls were a few very ordinary
pictures. The whole place, even to the large bare-
looking ballroom with two pianos in it, was very
comfortless in appearance, and I could not help think-
ing that it must be very trying to one's nerves to
have such a big bare place all to one's self. How-
ever, chacun & son gout ! Sir Robert's office, or
rather his “den,” as he called it, was very characteristic
of the man, and showed evident signs of being more
used than any other room in the house, for here
Sir Robert spends the greater part of his day. His
writing-table particularly struck me as being very
unusual, for he informed me he never sits down to
his work, but always stands and does his writing at
the tall desk in the centre of the room.


ste Robert HART, G.C.M.G., IN HIs “DEN” AT PERING.
[To face p. 366.





TO THE YELLOW SEA. 367
“The air of Peking,” said Sir Robert laughingly,
“has a very somniferous effect, and I feel I should
instantly fall asleep if I were to sit down of an
afternoon to do my work.”
A quotation written on a small discoloured piece
of paper stuck over the desk attracted my attention.
“That,” said my host, “is a verse I copied very
many years ago out of Dickens's Household Words.
It appealed to me very strangely, so I stuck it up
over my desk, and it has been there ever since.”
The lines were the following, and may be of
interest:—
“If thou hast yesterday thy duty done,
And thereby found firm footing for to-day,
Whatever clouds may dark to-morrow's sun
Thou shalt not miss thy solitary way.”
“By the way, Sir Robert,” said I, “before dinner
you were speaking of going home for good. Have
you any immediate prospect of seeing the old
country? For I am sure you must be anxious to
do so after so many years' absence.”
“Well, there's nothing definite fixed at present,
anyhow,” he replied.
“And your successor—have you any idea who he
will be 2 " I hinted.
“No. No suggestion has yet been made of even
my probable successor, but so far as I can judge,
seeing the way Chinese views are tending, my idea
is that it will be a Chinaman who will take up my


372 FROM THE ARCTIC OCEAN
city walls, but the coup d'ail one got from such an
elevated position was not to be compared with that
in the midst of the busy throngs. As ill luck would
have it, I had run short of photographic films, so my
Kodak was useless.
There was so much to see in the various quarters
of Peking that one could spend hours simply roaming
about looking at the shops, or rather open booths.
The Chinese city was far and away the most interest-
ing. Its narrow streets, which were darkened by the
immense number of sign-boards hanging overhead,
resembled an immense bazaar where everything con-
ceivable almost could be purchased. The “curio-
hunting” fever came over me like it does over all
new-comers to the Far East, and many were the
good bargains I imagined I had made, although,
doubtless, I shall find that most of the things could
have been bought cheaper in London.
Of course I did the “lions” as completely as
possible, and visited the theatres and the opium
dens, and saw enough temples and monuments to
last me for many years, and witnessed scenes which
made it hard to realize that all these relics of the
barbarism of the Middle Ages were within touch of
the civilization of the nineteenth century. Still, I
could not help coming to the same conclusion as Sir
Mackenzie Wallace, and thoroughly agree with him
that “sight-seeing is the weariness of the flesh;"
so at last I made up my mind to bid adieu to


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 373
all my hospitable friends and make another move
on my homeward journey, for I still had many
weary miles to traverse before I reached Old England
again.
There are two ways of getting to Tientsin, the
port of Peking, where one embarks for Shanghai–
either in what is known as a Peking cart, or by
house-boat. Having already had some not altogether
delightful experiences of these native carts, it did not
take me long to decide which mode of conveyance
to use, and although I learnt that the river route
was considerably longer I settled at once to go
by it.
As luck would have it, just as I had made all my
arrangements to start, I managed to find a very
genial companion for the journey in Mr. Savage
Landor, a traveller and roving artist, whose acquaint-
ance I had made whilst in Peking. This gentleman,
who had just returned from Japan, was on his way
to Australia, so we arranged to go as far as Shanghai
together. Travelling in company is undoubtedly
more pleasant than alone, more especially if one's
companion has tastes at all in sympathy with
one's own, and in this particular instance it was
especially so, for the three days' uneventful journey
to Tientsin passed away very agreeably. We had
taken the precaution of providing ourselves with
a “boy” to act as servant and cook; and a very
excellent chef did he make, the little dinners he


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 375
consists of one mast, with the usual Chinese pic-
turesque mat-sail. The crew is usually composed of
five men and the master.
Although perhaps not scrupulously clean, the cabin,
by candlelight at any rate, looked all right, and for
MY house-BoA.T.
a wonder did not smell over-stuffy, as such places
usually do; so as we sat down to supper we con-
gratulated ourselves on at least having decent quarters
for the next two days. While we were eating our
meal, talking of one thing and another, I happened


TO THE YELLOW SEA. 379
busy place. The next day, therefore, passed rapidly
enough, and after a delightful little dinner at the
British Consulate with Mr. and Mrs. Brennan, we
went on board the s.s. Hsin-Yu in the very best
possible spirits ; in fact, I don't remember ever
feeling happier than I did when I found myself once
more on a well-appointed ship, and with the feeling
that I had safely accomplished the greater part of my
self-imposed task.
The trip to Shanghai occupied three and a half
days, the weather being so delightful that it was
quite like yachting in the Channel. The Hsin-Yu
was a fine steamer of some 1500 tons, belonging to
the China Merchants Company, manned by Chinese,
but officered entirely by Europeans. She had, I
learnt, the proud privilege of flying the “Grey-
hound” flag of the East. We called in at Chefoo,
and remained there long enough to have a hasty look
round this quaint little semi-English village. Then
on again to Shanghai, where I arrived on June 26,
1891.
And here I will leave you, kind reader, for my
long and arduous ten months' pilgrimage across
the vast Continent of Asia was thus complete—a
pilgrimage which, although full of hardships and dis-
comforts, was fully compensated by my strange and
delightful experiences, so much so that in spite of all
I should be glad of an opportunity to do many parts
of it over again.


382 INDEX.
Gobi Desert, Tola river, 312
—, water in, 310
Golchika, 32
— to Karaoul, 34
Great Wall of China, 347
—, the “First Parallel,” 333
H
Hart, Sir - Robert, interview with,
359
Highway robbery, 160
Holidays in Siberia, 217
Inquest, 84
Irkutsk, arrival at, 179
—, a ball at M. de Sievers, 187
—, amusements, 217
—, cost of living in, 219
—, fire brigade, 215
—, foundling hospital, 212
—, garrison of, 190
—, Moskovskaia Podvorié, 180
—, museum, 216
—, police, 190
—, prison, 192
— —, artists, 196
— —, criminal madhouse, 203
— —, incongruities of, 194
— —, internal arrangements of,
193
— —, I paint a picture in, 206
— —, political prisoners, 205
— —, solitary cells, 204
— —, the baroness, 200
— —, -, last interview with,
207
— —, workshops, 194
—, prisoners, outdoor employment
of, 198
—, public institutions, 188
— society, 184
—, telephones and telegraphs, 216
—, the Bolshoi Oulitza, 183
—, the gold industry, 209
— to Kiakhta, my preparation for
journey, 223
—, unpleasant experiences, 181
Kalgan, 331
—, American missionaries, 335
—, impressions of, 334
Kamin pass, 88
Kansk, 165
Karaoul, 35
—, the chief inhabitant of 37
Kara Sea, curio-hunting, 21
—, entrance to, 15
—, ice-bound in the, 24
—, icefields in, 17
—, its deadly silence, 27
—, seal-shooting, 25
—, the captain's polar bear in the,
29
—, the walrus-hunters, 20
—, thickness of the ice, 28
—, twilight in, 20
Kasanskoi, my first visit to, 49
—, trader's house at, 50
—, departure from, 61
Khabarova, the hamlet of, 14
Kiakhta, arrival at, 244
—, departure for, 223
—, departure from, 250
— to Ourga, my preparations for
journey, 249
Kolguier Island, 11
Koutoulik, 165
—, waiting-room in post-house, 175
Krasnoiarsk, departure for, 124
——, a convoy of prisoners on the
road to, 138
—, a Priviligiert prisoner, 148
—, arrival at, 130
—, cigarette-making in, prison, 149.
—, courtyard of perasilny, 146 -
—, criminal exiles, 134
—, fire-towers, 155
—, hotel at, 130
—, incident at fancy dress ball, 152.
—, interior of perasilny, 147
, Jewish and Mohammedan
prisoners, 140
—, local malefactors, 153
—, married prisoners' quarters in
perasilny, 147
—, political exiles, 151
| —, Priviligierts criminals, 136
K


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