Homer B. Hulbert

The sacred icon and the sewing-machine both in evidence—The native "process of getting married"—Mrs. Braggin's piano—American pack-saddles and Russian obstinacy—Theodosia Chrisoffsky and his sixty descendants.

When we reached the shore, or as near the shore as the shallowness of the water would permit, a crowd of natives and half-castes waded out and offered their backs to convey us to dry ground. There we found two Russian officers in uniform and twelve Cossacks, besides a hundred or more of the villagers. The magistrate and his assistant, with the aid of twenty Cossacks, govern a section of territory as large as Texas and New Mexico combined. The magistrate led us to his house, a log structure, one story high, with five large rooms. No carpets adorned the floor, which was spotlessly clean. On the wall hung the pictures of the Czar and Czarina, while in the corner, of course, hung the sacred icon. One noticeable feature was a Singer sewing-machine. The magistrate's wife lives here with him and looks after their modest family of thirteen children.

It was now four o'clock in the morning, but the family were astir. The samovar was brought in, and over hot tea and buns we speedily became acquainted. The magistrate is an important man in Ghijiga, and I found him to be a highly educated gentleman, speaking French and German fluently, but not English. He examined my papers, and, with the aid of the supercargo, who interpreted for me, I told him the purpose of my visit. He made me entirely welcome, and told me that he had received orders from the Governor-general in Vladivostok to aid me in every way possible. And he assured me he would gladly do so.

My first object was to reach the town of Ghijiga, which lay twenty-five miles up the river. Here I intended to make my headquarters while I explored the country inland and about the head of the Okhotsk Sea. The magistrate immediately gave orders that a boat be gotten ready to take me up the river, and five Cossacks were detailed to haul at the tow-line.

After a hearty breakfast of salmon, reindeer meat, and other good things, we embarked and started up-stream. The boat was probably the worst-shaped craft ever constructed. It was made by hollowing out an eighteen-foot log, after which side boards were attached. As it drew fully twelve inches of water and was very cranky, one could scarcely recommend it for river travel. I afterward built three boats which would carry double the weight of cargo, and which drew only four inches.

We rowed up-stream a few miles in a northwesterly direction until we reached the limit of tide-water, and the stream suddenly grew shallow. The banks were covered with a dense growth of bushes, which at some places attained a height of twenty feet, but there was no large timber near at hand. With my field-glasses I saw some fairly heavy timber on the mountainsides inland. The general aspect of the country was exceedingly rough. The banks of the river showed outcroppings of slate, striking east and west, with a pitch to the south of forty-five degrees. To the southwest, about ten miles away, I saw a long, low range of hills, perhaps a thousand feet high. The highest point in this range is called Babuska, which is the Russian for "grandmother."

As we approached the shallows the water became so swift that we could no longer row, whereupon four of the Cossacks jumped out of the boat into the icy water. Putting over their shoulders a kind of harness made of walrus hide, to which was attached a rope of the same material one hundred feet long, they began towing. The fifth Cossack held the steering-oar. The shore was too heavily wooded to admit of using it as a tow-path, and so the poor fellows had to wade in the water. Frequently, the boat would ground on the shallows, and then they would patiently come back and haul us over the obstruction. At noon we landed, built a roaring fire, and imbibed unknown quantities of tea along with our lunch. Taking to the water again, we kept steadily, if slowly, on until seven o'clock, when, suddenly turning a sharp bend, we saw on the hillside, on the left bank, the green spires of a Russian church around which were grouped about fifty houses. I noticed that not a single house had a window on the north side. The severe winds from the north drive all the snow away from that side of the houses and pile it up against the windows on the south side, so that they are often buried twelve or fifteen feet deep. Some of the people are too lazy to dig this away and so have to remain in comparative darkness; but as the days are only a couple of hours long in mid-winter, it does not make so much difference.

As we neared the landing all the village, except such portion as had met the steamer at the mouth of the river, came down en masse to greet us—dogs, children, and all. They gave us a hearty drosty, or "How do you do?" and treated us most hospitably.

We pitched our tent on a grassy slope near the water and made preparations for supper. As I was bending over, busy with my work, I was startled by a hearty slap on the shoulder and the true Yankee intonation, "Well, friend, what are you doing in this neck of the woods?" I turned quickly and saw before me a stout, good-natured, smiling American. I learned that he was a Mr. Powers, manager of the Russian Trading Company, which had a station at this point. He had arrived a few days before in the company's steamer, the Kotic, and had brought with him a Russian-American as clerk. The latter was in process of being married to the daughter of a Mrs. Braggin, the capable agent of the Russian Fur Company at that point. I say he was in process of being married; for, although the ceremony had begun the day before, it would be several days yet before it would be completed. They literally dragged me up to the house, although I pointed in dismay at my disreputable suit of khaki. I was too late for the church service, but was just in time for the more substantial part of the festivities.

After the service in the church the villagers gather at the bride's house and spend the balance of the day in feasting, amid the most uproarious mirth. The second day finishes this act of the play, but on the third and fourth days the bride and groom make the round of the village, feasting everywhere. It was on the second day that we arrived, and before the day was over the groom had gorged himself about to the limit; and before the next two days had gone he confided to me the fact that if he had known how much he would be forced to eat, he would have hesitated before crossing the threshold of matrimony.

Mrs. Braggin's drawing-room boasted an antiquated upright piano, that had long passed its prime, but was in fairly good tune for such a corner of the world. In the course of the evening, as the fun was growing fast and furious, and there seemed to be no one to play the instrument, I sat down and struck up the "Washington Post" march; but before I had played many bars, I was dismayed to find that the merriment had suddenly ceased and the whole company were standing in perfect silence, as if rooted to the spot. When I finished nothing would suffice but that I should exhaust my slender repertory, and then repeat it all again and again. Evidently, many of those rough but kindly people had never heard anything like it in their lives, and, as the Russian is musical to his heart's core, I felt pleased to have added my mite to the evening's entertainment.

After the four days of feasting, we descended to the plane of the ordinary. By the aid of Mr. Powers I secured a vacant log hut, where I bestowed my various goods and appointed old Andrew as steward, making arrangements for him to board at Mrs. Braggin's. Some of the native women were easily induced to fit me out with a suit of buckskin which I should require in traveling about the country. In this whole district there were but twelve horses. They were Irkutsk ponies, shaggy fellows, about fourteen hands high. They were very hardy animals, and could shift for themselves both summer and winter. In the winter they paw down through the snow until they reach the dead grass.

After nearly exhausting my powers of persuasion, and paying a round sum, I secured six of these horses. I hired a competent Russian guide and prepared to take my first trip across the tundra, to examine a locality where the Russians had reported that gold had been discovered a few years before. With my horses came little Russian pack-saddles or rather combinations of pack- and riding-saddles. They have the faculty of turning with their loads about once an hour all day long. This I had discovered at Petropaulovsk, but when I expressed my determination to use my American pack-saddles, I found myself confronted by the opposition of Russians and natives alike. They viewed my saddles with amusement and contempt. The double cinches and the breast and back cinches puzzled them completely, and they refused to have anything to do with them. As fast as my Koreans would get the packs on, the Russians would take them off when our backs were turned. I soon discovered that the Russians were determined to use their own saddles, and no argument would move them. I unbuckled a Russian saddle and threw it to the ground, substituting one of my own for it. I turned to a second horse to do likewise, when, looking over my shoulder, I saw a Russian quietly unfastening the first. Stepping up to him, I gave him a slap with the open hand on the jaw. Instantly, the whole matter assumed a new aspect. I was not to be trifled with. They saw it. Their objections were at once withdrawn, and never after that did I have occasion to strike a man.

My guide was an old man of sixty-five, but a noted sledge-driver and hunter. His name was Theodosia Chrisoffsky, a half-caste. He was a dried-up and wizened old man, but I found him as active as a youth of twenty. He was always the first up in the morning, and the last to bed at night. He owned the best dogs in northeastern Siberia, and could get more work out of a dog-team than any other man. His reputation reached from the Okhotsk Sea to the Arctic Ocean, and he was considered among the dog-men to be about the wealthiest of his class. He owned a hundred dogs, valued at from three to one hundred roubles each. Perhaps ten of them were worth the maximum price, and the rest averaged about ten roubles apiece. He also owned five horses. Not the least part of his wealth were twelve strapping sons and daughters, all of whom, with their wives and husbands, lived under the paternal roof—or, rather, under a clump of paternal roofs. There were some sixty souls in all, and they formed a little village by themselves about twenty miles up the river from Ghijiga.

I had to load the horses very light on account of the marshy condition of the tundra. Each pack was a hundred pounds only. On this trip I took only one of my Koreans.