The tarantass—Tea merchants—Their competition—The Sienzy—Aspect of Maimatchin—A dinner at the Chinese Governor’s—Preparations for crossing the Gobi desert.

We found quite a change in the state of the road after leaving Verchni-Oudinsk. The sledge, in the course of a few hours, being no longer supported with a smooth thick layer of snow, its skates occasionally came in contact with the earth below, and this increasing the friction, considerably retarded our progress. This at last produced so much jolting that, on arriving at the first stage, we were obliged to abandon our sledge and proceed in a tarantass. This vehicle, in which the Russians travel in summer, has no other spring than that afforded by four birch poles resting on the axles of four wheels. I do not know any kind of locomotion, excepting the Chinese mule palanquin, more uncomfortable than the tarantass, and yet, the jolting apart, I was delighted the first time I found myself mounted on this vehicle. The country was still for the most part covered with snow, but here and there I caught a glimpse of uncovered spots: the land that had been lost to sight since quitting St. Petersburg, the land of Siberia, in fact, which, although I had passed over fifteen hundred leagues of this country, strictly speaking, I had not yet seen. Here it was a rich soil apparently favourable to agriculture, but of so dark a colour that it must give a more gloomy aspect to the neighbourhood of the villages in summer, than the spotless snowy shroud in winter.

As we went on our way, we noticed a great difference in the people; they were more singular-looking and of a type more Oriental: the villagers, the yemschiks, and even the posting masters, were nearly all Buriats. We now often passed Chinese, in carriages or palanquins, clad in silks, red, blue, and in fact of every colour; still more frequently Mongols perched on camels, or mounted on frisky little horses, all of them capped alike with a yellow turban lined with fur, and wrapped in a full cloak, made of the skin of the white deer of the Gobi desert, folded across the chest. At last, on the 27th of March, at nine in the morning, I caught sight, from the top of a hill, of the village of Kiachta, at the end of which stood up two enormous yellow posts that marked the frontier of the Celestial Empire, and the entry into the town of Maimatchin.

I went straight to M. Pfaffius. “I had no idea,” he said, “you would have been so long in coming from Irkutsk.” I related to him my adventures of the Baikal. “The little caravan of tea-merchants which you were to join, left here yesterday morning. But you will lose nothing by it, for there will be another caravan leaving here in a week. You will then have plenty of time to make all your preparations to accompany it to Pekin, and we shall have the pleasure of your company here all the week.” I went to announce this news to Ivan MichÄelovitch Nemptchinof, who was so highly delighted, and offered me, with so much courtesy, the hospitality of his father’s house, that I shall never forget the occasion.

Ivan MichÄelovitch’s father,25 with whom I lodged at Kiachta, is a cousin of the Nemptchinof I have already mentioned as one of the three proprietors of the richest gold mine of Trans-Baikalia. Not feeling disposed to risk his fortune in gold-hunting, so often precarious, he preferred devoting himself to the tea business, and has acquired in it an immense fortune.

The flourishing state of the tea trade by caravan is due to two causes: first, the great consumption of tea in Siberia and Russia, and particularly in Russia, where it is the necessary part of their meals: secondly, to its free entry into Eastern Siberia, which the Czar has accorded to his Eastern subjects. Since the customs’ duty is considerable on the tea imported by Odessa, it follows that nearly all the tea that is drunk in Russia passes through the hands of the Kiachta merchants, and not without leaving in them a great many roubles.

These merchants are a little frightened, just now, by the appearance of a competition, the success of which, still doubtful, it is true, would ruin them completely. This rival enterprise would have for its object the conveyance of tea by sea, from the mouth of the Yang-Se’ to the port of Vladivostok, and thence to Irkutsk, by the Ussuri and the Amoor rivers. If this communication were established, there is no doubt that tea could be sold very much cheaper than at present, for the overland carriage, through Mongolia and the Desert of Gobi, is very expensive; but the undertakers of the new project would be obliged to make so considerable an outlay from the commencement, that it is feared the failure of it would be decisive before a single chest could find its way by this route to Irkutsk.

In order to render the carriage as low as possible, they would propose to embark the tea at Han-Kow, the great centre of the plantations of South China, on the banks of the Yang-Se’, and disembark it only at Nertchinsk on the Schilka, immediately within the government of Irkutsk. But to attain this object, it would be necessary to scoop out a canal, between Vladivostok and Lake Hinka, where the Ussuri takes its source, a very mountainous region; and besides, to construct steamers small enough to pass into a canal, and, at the same time, large enough to resist the waves, often formidable, in the China seas. The idea is certainly ingenious and even remarkable; but if the capital of the new company is important enough for the establishment of this maritime route, its success is not doubtful. In any case, the rivalry is interesting, and I daresay that some of my readers, already informed of this gigantic commercial enterprise, will be curious to learn its results.

The Chinese who inhabit Maimatchin were not slow in ascertaining if Monsieur Nemptchinof had a Sienzy really lodging in his house, that is a man from the extreme west. As specimens of this race are rather rare in Northern China, and the curiosity of no women in the world can approach to that of Chinese men, all the inhabitants of Maimatchin wanted to see me.

According to the Russian custom, all the crannies of the window frames where I was were puttied, although the cold had almost taken its departure, but the doors were wide open; I could not, therefore, escape from the endless crowd of visitors, that came to see me. There were, at least, forty or fifty at a time, in the three little rooms that formed my suite. They scrutinized my most ordinary gestures and movements, pounced on all my writings, felt my beard, which appeared to them as something monstrous; for they are not accustomed to see, on their own faces, nor generally even on those of the Siberians, anything but moustaches; and then they wanted to hear me speak my language. Getting repeatedly quite exhausted from their persistent and indiscreet persecution, I remonstrated sharply, and finding this ineffective, I lost all patience and swore at them like a trooper; but it was all to no purpose, for their ears were evidently so pleased with these euphonious expressions that they often begged me to repeat them to the new comers that nothing might be lost.

The Governor could not resist the temptation to flow with the stream. His visit interested me. He was clad in a robe of cloth of gold. His cap was surmounted with a blue ball, the mark of his dignity. Two long peacock feathers hung from the back of this cap. This Governor was accompanied by two Chinese officers and a Mongolian prince. The latter was costumed like all other Mongols; except that his chest was completely covered with a profusion of ornaments and amulets in silver and coral. A cousin of Ivan MichÄelovitch, M. Solomanof, acted as interpreter. “I ought legally to oppose your entry into China,” said the Governor to me; “the Russians only have a right to enter by land into the Celestial Empire. I shall, however, wink at it. Ask M. Pfaffius merely for a tea merchant’s passport, as a Russian subject, in case you should have any difficulties with the Chinese authorities you may meet on your way.” The interview ended by his inviting me to dine with him the next day; an invitation I accepted with pleasure, and we parted cordially like old acquaintances.

Maimatchin is the most singular city in the world, inasmuch as it is peopled with men only. The Chinese women are not only forbidden to leave their territory, but even to pass the great wall of Kalkann and enter into Mongolia. This rule will hinder, for some time to come, any modification of the Chinese character. However numerous the emigrations may be, foreign influence will never be very great over men born in Chinese territory and educated there till manhood in all the customs and prejudices of their own over-extolled country. All the Chinese of this border city are exclusively traders, and they accumulate money, till their trading with Europe through Siberia has created a sufficient fortune, to enable them to return to their native cities and live there in ease with their families. Their dwellings indicate their prosperity. They are separated from the streets by a clay wall, rather ugly, it is true, but surrounding, generally, a very elegant-looking house, before which are gambolling those sleek, plump-looking curs with unusually big eyes, such as are pretty faithfully represented on Chinese vases and screens. It very often happens that objects thus represented to us, which we regard as grotesque caricatures, are, in fact, with their faults of perspective, rather than of form, true images of objects of the country.

The main part of the houses of Maimatchin is divided into two compartments, and that which is behind is raised. Fires are kept up under this great platform, which is covered with mats, that serve as seats by day and beds by night. Opposite the door a niche is generally seen, where the domestic idols, unaccustomed to attitudinize to profane eyes, repose behind an ornamented blind.

The walls of the reception room are lacquered in red or black, or sometimes, even covered with figured silk, according to the taste and wealth of the proprietor. The apartment overlooking the court, is generally of light wood, perforated and carved, and over these openings coloured paper is stretched. The light, sifted through the artistically carved wood-work, and then casting its diverse shadows on the coloured transparency, produces something of the graceful effect of stained glass.

I was deeply interested with the novelties of these gay interiors, as might be supposed, and I passed here many hours, called, first to one apartment, then to another, to partake of the liberal and courteous entertainment, abounding in pastry and preserved fruits.

It is quite a misconception we have in Europe generally, to confound the edifices designed for worship with the high towers usually dominating the villages. These towers have nothing of a religious character: they are simply landmarks in the vast plains of Central China. They are, therefore, not seen in mountainous districts, as in the neighbourhood of Maimatchin for example.

The idol temple of this city is beside the Governor’s house. It is approached by three successive courts, surrounded with sunk wooden galleries, painted in various colours.

In the first, rise three little structures, covering a gigantic tam-tam, and two gilt monsters. In the second, stands a theatre, so disposed, that the doors of the temple being open, the idol may contemplate the spectacle, which, to me, seems to constitute an essential part of the religious ceremony. The third court is covered, and serves as a vestibule to the temple specially so called, containing idols of the most grotesque character. The door of this temple is charming: it is of carved open wood-work, richly gilt. There are three sanctuaries: the centre one is devoted to a gigantic idol with monstrous features. I remarked the ferocious look of this figure: he had fierce eyes; his beard, composed of natural hair, descended to the waist, and he was robed in yellow silk. Twelve statues in the attitude of prayer were bending before him. A mass of ornaments, of all kinds, encumbered this sanctuary: immense chandeliers of wrought iron, swords, gilt lances, lighted tapers and lanterns. The god, on the left of this one, was conspicuous with his three eyes and scarlet robe: it is this one that penetrates the most secret thoughts. For this reason, no taper was lighted before him, his clear-sightedness requiring no adventitious aid. The god on the right was decked in a green robe.

I took care not to neglect the invitation the Chinese Governor had given me. At the appointed hour, I punctually presented myself: I met there several I was acquainted with, and, among them, my old travelling companions living at Kiachta, whom my host had the good taste to bring together here. We took our places on the estrade I have mentioned, squatting in groups of three or four round several low tables.

The cover for each guest consisted of a little plate, a liliputian cup, and two sticks. The little plate is not intended to receive the portion of any dish offered to the guest: it contains merely some hot, black vinegar, an indispensable sauce, incessantly renewed by the servants, and into which one steeps each mouthful that he has directly taken from the dish between his two sticks.

When the mouthful thus seasoned is disposed of, the two little sticks are at liberty to seize right and left, on their points, some savoury hors-d’oeuvre, placed in saucers around the central plate. They consist principally of marine plants,—black mushrooms cultivated on the birch-trees, scented herbs, preserved eggs—the albumen of which, by some process, has turned black—and little reptiles artistically cut into spiral forms and otherwise metamorphosed.

I remember, on another occasion, when I was much nearer to the sea, that one of these side dishes was a little bowl of shrimps, served up in some ingenious sauce that seasoned them well without killing them: they are eaten in this way all alive, preference being given to those that afford the best proofs of their liveliness by their repugnance to the sauce. The only drink, served in cups about the size of thimbles, is hot rice brandy.

All these minute portions and preparations, these graceful tiny utensils, this variety of little dishes, are suggestive of a dinner children give to their dolls. It is a table indeed, that well represents this effeminate race of attenuated hands and pinched feet, a race of feeble appetites and feeble powers, that accomplishes nothing great, unless through a slow accumulation of puny efforts and petty means. The mouthfuls are prepared and cut before being served in the dishes, and each morsel is surmounted with a red almond, to indicate that no one has yet touched it.

The procession of twenty-five or thirty dishes, composing the governor of Maimatchin’s dinner, commenced, according to Chinese habits, with the meats, continued with the soups and sweets, and ended with a plate of plain boiled rice, which is invariably presented to the guests at the end of the repast, no one, however, touching it, and apparently having no other meaning than this: “I have now offered you everything I have in my house, and, to continue the hospitality, I have no other resource than to place before you the most ordinary article of diet.”

The day for the departure of the caravan was now approaching, and I began to busy myself with my preparations for crossing the Desert of Gobi.

The tea merchants, with whom I was to travel through Mongolia and north China, undertook to furnish us with conveyances, and to arrange with a Mongolian guide to take us as far as the Great Wall.

This journey is undertaken in little Chinese vehicles, kinds of boxes resting on a pair of wheels behind, and supported in front by a draught camel between two long shafts; the box being of sufficient size to permit the occupant to lie down. The vehicle can contain but one traveller; and the camel, which has to bear considerable fatigue—as the reader will subsequently learn—cannot ascend any hill. These animals, therefore, are not employed in the first part of the route in Mongolia, between Kiachta and Urga, because it is necessary to traverse a steep road along a chain of mountains. During this first period, these little vehicles are drawn by oxen. The tedious slowness of their movements, and, besides, the desire I had to precede the caravan to Urga, that I might stay there a little while, induced me not to join my companions from Kiachta, but to proceed as far as Urga in a tarantass. I accordingly left Pablo and my baggage to come by the slow caravan, and I offered a place in my Russian vehicle to M. Marine, one of the tea merchants who was to cross, with me, the Desert of Gobi.

It is astonishing what a heap of objects are necessary when the traveller is going to wander, more than a month, in the desert, far from the aid of his fellow-creatures. He has to think, not only of the necessary provisions, but of an assortment of tools for repairing the vehicles; preventives and remedies for man and beast against possible accidents of the way; presents, indispensable to making friends among the wandering tribes; and, especially, the strange money current among the Mongols, a stock of which is requisite.

These Orientals despise gold and silver, and their business is carried on exclusively by barter. A tea of ordinary quality, called brick tea, on account of the form given to it by compression, is the article of food the most appreciated, and the most common substitute for money. One of these bricks would represent about eight or ten shillings.

Needles ready threaded, sugar and brandy, have also an important exchangeable value. I was obliged to furnish myself with many objects at a village neighbouring to Kiachta, at Triosky-Sawsk, where I had an opportunity of visiting the rare collections of M. Popoff.

This savant has studied the habits of all the insects of Trans-Baikalia. I noticed, among the lepidoptera, a butterfly of an extremely rare kind, which he calls Liparis Ochropoda, and which lays productive eggs without the aid of the male. This fact is attested by some very curious experiments, confirmed by him by repetition, at the gymnasium of Irkutsk, and at Triosky-Sawsk, with complete success. He has seen these produced for three generations successively without access to the male, the last of these being composed entirely of males.26

Our tarantass, containing M. Marine and myself, left Kiachta three days after the departure of the caravan. We calculated not only on joining it at Urga, but on passing it on the way, and on remaining many days in this city, waiting its arrival.

Mrs. Grant, Miss Campbell, and Ivan MichÄelovich, each in a separate carriage, kept me company on the road for about twelve miles. We passed through Maimatchin and entered into Mongolia. There appeared to me very little difference between this country and the desert. Here and there, however, but at long distances apart, might be seen a native encampment, composed of one or two tents fenced around, with a camel, a horse, and a few sheep in the enclosure.

As soon as the day began to close in, the three little carriages accompanying my tarantass pulled up, their occupants being now obliged to return. I am ashamed to say, I had quite forgotten to bring with me, in accordance with the Siberian custom, a stock of champagne, to lay the dust before their steps on parting: I was therefore quite disconsolate. Moreover, the changed aspect of the country, the prospect before me of having no companion who could speak French—for M. Marine did not know a word of our language—the beginning of an existence quite new and unknown to me, added not a little to the emotion and sadness of such a separation.

After the most cordial leave-taking, I continued my journey towards the south, whilst my three friends, fearing that night would overtake them on the road, set off for Kiachta at a full gallop.

A cloud of fine dust of the desert was thrown up by the horses’ feet, which speedily veiled them from my sight.

My journey through Siberia, and with it one of its most pleasing incidents, had come to an end.