Overland through Asia; Pictures of Siberian, Chinese, and Tartar Part 16

Here, as elsewhere on the lower Amoor, men and women labor together in the fields and engage equally in marketing at the boats. I was much amused in watching the commercial transactions between the peasants and our steward. I could not understand what was said, but the conversation in loud tones and with many words had much the appearance of an altercation. Several times I looked around expecting to see blows, but the excitement was confined to the vocal organs alone.

The pa.s.sage of the Amoor through the Buryea mountains is nearly a hundred miles in length. Toward the upper end the mountains are more precipitous and a few peaks rise high above the others, like The Sentinels in Yosemite valley. The last cliff before one reaches the level country is known as Cape Sverbef, a bold promontory that projects into the river and is nearly a thousand feet high. Not far from this cliff is a flat-topped mountain remarkable for several crevices on its northern side, from which currents of cold air steadily issue. Ice forms around these fissures in midsummer, and a thermometer suspended in one of them fell in an hour to 30 Fahrenheit.

An hour after pa.s.sing the mountains I saw a dozen conical huts on the Chinese sh.o.r.e and a few dusky natives lounging in front of them. They reminded me of the lodges of our n.o.ble red men as I saw them west of the Missouri several years before. Instead of being Cheyennes or Sioux they proved to be Birars, a tribe of wandering Tunguse who inhabit this region. Their dwellings wore of light poles covered with birch bark. One of the native gentlemen was near the bank of the river in the att.i.tude of an orator, but not properly dressed for a public occasion. His only garments were a hat and a string of beads, and he was accompanied by a couple of young ladies in the same picturesque costume, minus the hat and beads.

These Tungusians lead a nomadic life. Above the mouth of the Zeya there are two other tribes of similar character, the Managres and Orochons. The princ.i.p.al difference between them is that the former keep the horse and the latter the reindeer. The Birars have no beasts of burden except a very few horses.

None of these people live in permanent houses, but move about wherever attracted by fishing or the chase. During spring and summer they generally live on the banks of the river, where they catch and cure fish. Their scaffoldings and storehouses were like those of the natives already described, and during their migrations are left without guards and universally respected. Their fish are dried for winter use, and they sell the roe of the sturgeon to the Russians for making caviar.

My first acquaintance with caviar was at Nicolayevsk, and I soon learned to like it. It is generally eaten with bread, and forms an important ingredient in the Russian lunch. On the Volga its preparation engages a great many men, and the caviar from that river is found through the whole empire. Along the Amoor the business is in its infancy, the production thus far being for local consumption. I think if some enterprising American would establish the preparation of caviar on the Hudson where the sturgeon is abundant, he could make a handsome profit in shipping it to Russia.

The roe is taken from the fish and carefully washed. The membrane that holds the eggs together is then broken, and after a second washing the substance is ready for salting. One kind for long carriage and preservation is partially dried and then packed and sealed in tin cans. The other is put in kegs, without pressing, and cannot be kept a long time.

In the autumn and winter the natives are hunters. They chase elk and deer for their flesh, and sables, martens, and squirrels for their furs. Squirrels are especially abundant, and a good hunter will frequently kill a thousand in a single season. The Siberian squirrel of commerce comes from this region by way of Irkutsk and St.

Petersburg. The natives hunt the bear and are occasionally hunted by him.

At one landing a Birar exhibited an elk skin which he wished to exchange for tobacco, and was quite delighted when I gave him a small quant.i.ty of the latter. He showed me a scar on his arm where a bear had bitten him two or three years before. The marks of the teeth and the places where the flesh was torn could be easily seen, but I was unable to learn the particulars of his adventure.

These Tungusians are rather small in stature, and their arms and legs are thin. Their features are broad, their mouths large and lips narrow, and their hair is black and smooth, the men having very little beard. Their clothing is of the skins of elk and deer, with some garments of cotton cloth of Chinese manufacture. Most of the men I saw wore a belt at the waist, to which several articles of daily use were attached.

At each Russian settlement above the mountains I observed a large post painted in the official colors and supporting a board inscribed with the name of the village. It was fixed close to the landing place, and evidently designed for the convenience of strangers. One of my exercises in learning the language of the country was to spell the names on these signs. I found I could usually spell much faster if I knew beforehand the name of a village. It was like having a Bohn's translation of a Latin exercise.

At the village of Inyakentief I saw the first modern fortification since leaving Nicolayevsk,--a simple lunette without cannon but with several hundred cannon shot somewhat rusty with age. The governor of this village was a prince by t.i.tle, and evidently controlled his subjects very well. I saw Madame the princess, but did not have the pleasure of her acquaintance. She was dressed in a costume of which crinoline, silk, and ribbons were component parts, contrasting sharply with the coa.r.s.e garments of the peasant women.

This village had recently sold a large quant.i.ty of wheat and rye to the government. It had the best church I had seen since leaving Nicolayevsk, and its general appearance was prosperous. Among the women that came to the boat was one who recognized Borasdine as an old acquaintance. She hastened back to her house and brought him two loaves of bread made from wheat of that year's growth. As a token of friendship he gave her a piece of sugar weighing a pound or two and a gla.s.s of bad brandy that brought many tears to her eyes. I think she was at least fifteen minutes drinking the fiery liquid, which she sipped as one would take a compound of cayenne pepper and boiling water. The worst 'tanglefoot' or 'forty-rod' from Cincinnati or St.

Louis would have been nectar by the side of that brandy.

The country for a hundred miles or more above the Buryea mountains was generally level. Here and there were hills and ridges, and in the background on the south a few mountains were visible. There were many islands which, with the banks of alluvium, were evidently cut by the river in high freshets. Where the beach sloped to the water there was a little driftwood, and I could see occasional logs resting upon islands and sand bars.

When taken in a tumbler the water of the Amoor appeared perfectly clear, but in the river it had a brownish tinge. There were no snags and no floating timber. I never fancied an iron boat for river travel owing to the ease of puncturing it. On the Mississippi or Missouri it would be far from safe, but on the Amoor there are fewer perils of navigation. More boats have been lost there from carelessness or ignorance than from accidents really unavoidable. The Amoor is much like what the Mississippi would be with all its snags removed and its channel made permanent.

While among the islands I saw a small flotilla of boats in line across a channel, and after watching them through a gla.s.s discovered they were hauling a net. There were ten or twelve summer huts on the point of an island, and the boats were at least twice as many. A dozen men on sh.o.r.e were hauling a net that appeared well filled with fish. I do not think a single native looked up as we pa.s.sed. Possibly they have a rule there not to attend to outside matters when exercising their professions.

CHAPTER XVII.

The second day above the mountains we pa.s.sed a region of wide prairie stretching far to the north and bearing a dense growth of rank gra.s.s and bushes, with a few clumps of trees. On the Chinese side there were hills that sloped gently to the river's edge or left a strip of meadow between them and the water. Many hills were covered with a thin forest of oaks and very little underbrush. At a distance the ground appeared as if carefully trimmed for occupation, especially as it had a few open places like fields. In the sere and yellow leaf of autumn these groves were charming, and I presume they are equally so in the fresh verdure of summer.

If by some magic the Amoor could be transferred to America, and change its mouth from the Gulf of Tartary to the Bay of New York, a mult.i.tude of fine mansions would soon rise on its banks.

Among the islands that stud this portion of the river we pa.s.sed the steamer Constantine with two barges in tow. She left Nicolayevsk twelve days before us, and her impediments made her journey a slow one. Her barges were laden with material for the Amoor telegraph, then under construction. About the same time we met the Nicolai towing a barge with a quant.i.ty of cattle destined for the garrison at the mouth of the river. The Nicolai was the property of a merchant (Mr. Ludorf) at Nicolayevsk.

The village of Poyarkof, where we stopped for wood, impressed me very favorably. It was carefully laid out, and its single street had a wide and deep ditch on each side, crossed by little bridges. The houses were well built and had an air of neatness, while all the fences were substantial. Very few persons visited the boat, most of the inhabitants being at work in the fields. We walked through the settlement, and were shown specimens of wheat and rye grown in the vicinity. Four or five men, directed by a priest, were building a church, and two others were cutting plank near by with a primitive 'up-and-down' saw. The officer controlling the village was temporarily absent with the farm laborers. All around there were proofs of his energy and industry.

This village was one of the military colonies of the Province of the Amoor. When in proper hands the military settlement is preferable to any other, as the men are more accustomed to obeying orders and work in greater harmony than the peasants. What is most needed is an efficient and energetic chief to each village, who has and deserves the confidence of his people. With enough of the _fort.i.ter in re_ to repress any developments of laziness and prevent intemperance, such a man can do much for the government and himself.

If His Imperial Majesty will take nine-tenths of his present military force on the Amoor, place it in villages, allow the men to send for their families, and put the villages in the hands of proper chiefs under a general superintendent, he will take a long step toward making the new region self-sustaining. We have ample proof in America that an army is an expensive luxury, and the cost of maintaining it is proportioned to its strength. The verb 'to soldier' has a double meaning in English, and will bear translation. On distant stations like the Amoor, the military force could be safely reduced to a small figure in time of peace. Less play and more work would be better for the country and the men.

As we proceeded up the river there was another change of the native population. The tents of the Birars disappeared, and we entered the region of the Manjours and Chinese. The captain called my attention to the first Manjour village we pa.s.sed. The dwellings were one story high, their walls being of wood with a plastering of mud. The chimneys were on the outside like those of the Goldees already described, and the roofs of the houses were thatched with straw.

The Manjour villages are noticeable for the gardens in and around them. Each house that I saw had a vegetable garden that appeared well cultivated. In the corner of nearly every garden I observed a small building like a sentry box. In some doubt as to its use, I asked information of my Russian friends, and learned it was a temple where the family idols are kept and the owners go to offer their prayers.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A PRIVATE TEMPLE.]

Near each village was a grove which enclosed a public temple on the plan of a church in civilized countries. The temple was generally a square house, built with more care and neatness than the private dwellings. On entering, one found himself in a kind of ante-room, separated from the main apartment by a pink curtain. This curtain has religious inscriptions in Chinese and Manjour. In the inner apartment there are pictures of Chinese deities, with a few hideous idols carved in wood. A table in front of the pictures receives the offerings of worshippers.

The Manjours appear very fond of surrounding their temples with trees, and this is particularly noticeable on account of the scarcity of wood in this region. Timber comes from points higher up the Amoor, where it is cut and rafted down. Small trees and bushes are used as fuel and always with the strictest economy. The grove around the temple is held sacred, as among the Druids in England, and I presume a native would suffer long from cold before cutting a consecrated tree.

Along the river near the first village several boats were moored or drawn on the bank out of reach of the water. A few men and women stood looking at us, and some of them shouted '_mendow_' when we were directly opposite their position. Of course we returned their salutation.

Unlike the aboriginals lower down the river, the Manjours till the soil and make it their chief dependence. I saw many fields where the grain was uncut, and others where it had been reaped and stacked. The stacks were so numerous in proportion to the population that there must be a large surplus each year. Evidently there is no part of the Amoor valley more fertile than this. Horses and cattle were grazing in the meadows and looked up as we steamed along. We pa.s.sed a dozen horses drinking from the river, and set them scampering with our whistle.

The horse is used here for carrying light loads, but with heavy burdens the ox finds preference. Along the Chinese sh.o.r.e I frequently saw clumsy carts moving at a snail-like pace between the villages.

Each cart had its wheels fixed on an axle that generally turned with them. Frequently there was a lack of grease, and the screeching of the vehicle was rather unpleasant to tender nerves.

Near the village we met a Manjour boat, evidently the property of a merchant. The difference between going with and against the current was apparent by comparing the progress of this boat with the one I saw in the Buryea mountains. One struggled laboriously against the stream, but the other had nothing to do beyond keeping where the water ran swiftest. This one carried a small flag, and was deeply laden with merchandise. The crew was dozing and the man at the helm did not appear more than half awake.

Villages were pa.s.sed in rapid succession, and the density of the population was in agreeable contrast to the desolation of many parts of the lower Amoor. It was a panorama of houses, temples, groves, and fields, with a surrounding of rich meadows and gentle hills. There was a range of low mountains in the background, but on the Russian sh.o.r.e the flat prairie continued.

In the middle of the afternoon we pa.s.sed the town of Yah-tou-kat-zou, situated on the Chinese sh.o.r.e where the river makes a bend toward the north and east. It had nothing of special interest, but its gardens were more extensive and more numerous than in the villages below. Just above it there was a bay forming a neat harbor containing several boats and barges. When the Chinese controlled the Amoor they occupied this bay as a dock-yard and naval station. Had my visit been ten or twelve years earlier I should have seen several war junks anch.o.r.ed here. When the Russians obtained the river the Chinese transferred their navy to the Songaree.

From this ancient navy yard the villages stretched in a nearly continuous line along the southern bank, and were quite frequent on the northern one. We saw three Manjour women picking berries on the Russian sh.o.r.e. One carried a baby over her shoulders much after the manner of the American Indians. These women wore garments of blue cotton shaped much like the gowns of the Russian peasants. Near them a boat was moving along the sh.o.r.e, carrying a crew consisting of a man, a boy, and a dog. The boat, laden with hay, was evidently destined for 'cows and a market.' Near it was another boat rowed by two men, carrying six women and a quant.i.ty of vegetables. Some of the women were sorting the vegetables, and all watched our boat with interest.

From the laughter as we pa.s.sed I concluded the remarks on our appearance were not complimentary.

The scene on this part of the river was picturesque. There were many boats, from the little canoe or 'dug-out,' propelled by one man, up to the barge holding several tons of merchandise. The one-man boats were managed with a double-bladed oar, such as I have already described.

Nearly every boat that carried a mast had a flag or streamer attached to it, and some had dragons' heads on their bows. Would Lindley Murray permit me to say that I saw one barge manned by ten women?

[Ill.u.s.tration: FISHING IMPLEMENTS.]

Though subsisting mainly by agriculture and pastoral pursuits, the Manjours devote considerable time to fishing. One fishing implement bore a faint resemblance to a hand-cart, as it had an axle with two small wheels and long handles. A frame over the axle sustained a pole, to which a net was fastened. The machine could be pushed into the water and the net lowered to any position suitable for entrapping fish.

Occasionally I saw a native seated on the top of a tripod about ten feet high, placed at the edge of the river. Here he fished with pole, net, or spear, according to circ.u.mstances. He always appeared to me as if left there during a freshet and waiting for the river to rise and let him off.

At one place two boys were seated cross-legged near the water and fishing with long poles. They were so intent in looking at us that they did not observe the swell of the steamer until thoroughly drenched by it. As they stood dripping on the sand they laughed good-naturedly at the occurrence, and soon seated themselves again at their employment.

Late in the afternoon I saw a village larger than all the others, lying in a bend of the river, stretching three or four miles along the bank and a less distance away from it. This was Igoon, the princ.i.p.al place of the Chinese on the Amoor, and once possessing considerable power. Originally the fort and town of Igoon were on the left bank of the river, four miles below the present site. The location was changed in 1690, and when the new town was founded it grew quite rapidly. For a long time it was a sort of Botany Bay for Pekin, and its early residents were mostly exiles. At present its population is variously estimated from twenty to fifty thousand. The Chinese do not give any information on this point, and the Russian figures concerning it are based upon estimates.

Igoon was formerly the capital of the Chinese 'Province of the Arnoor,' but is now dest.i.tute of that honor. The seat of government was removed about twenty years ago to Sit-si-gar.

As we approached Igoon I could see below it many herds of cattle and horses driven by mounted men. There was every appearance of agricultural prosperity. It was near the end of harvest, and most of the grain was stacked in the fields. Here and there were laborers at work, and I could see many people on the bank fronting the river.

Around the city were groves enclosing the temples which held the shrines consecrated to Mongol worship, as the cross is reverenced by the followers of the Christian faith.

The city had a sombre look, as all the houses were black. The buildings were of wood plastered with mud, and nearly all of one story. Over the temples in the city there were flag-staffs, but with no banners hanging from them or on the outer walls. The governor's house and the a.r.s.enals were similarly provided with tall poles rising from the roofs, but here as elsewhere no flags were visible.

Along the beach there were many rafts of logs beside numerous boats either drawn on sh.o.r.e or moored to posts or stakes. Fishermen and boys were sitting cross-legged near the water, and the inattention of several caused their drenching by our swell. Idle men stood on the bank above the beach, nearly all smoking their little bra.s.s pipes with apparent unconcern. Men and women, princ.i.p.ally the latter, were carrying water from the river in buckets, which they balanced from the ends of a neck-yoke.