Overland through Asia; Pictures of Siberian, Chinese, and Tartar Part 46

The only city on the steppe is Omsk, at the junction of the Om and Irtish, and the capital of Western Siberia. It is said to contain twelve thousand inhabitants, and its buildings are generally well constructed. We did not follow the post route through Omsk, but took a cut-off that carried us to the northward and saved a hundred versts of sleigh riding. The city was founded in order to have a capital in the vicinity of the Kirghese frontier, but since its construction the frontier line has removed far away.

In 1834 a conspiracy, extending widely through Siberia, was organized at Omsk. M. Piotrowski gives an account of it, from which I abridge the following:

It was planned by the Abbe Sierosiuski, a Polish Catholic priest who had been exiled for taking part in the rebellion of 1831. He was sent to serve in the ranks of a Cossack regiment in Western Siberia, and after a brief period of military duty was appointed teacher in the military school at Omsk. His position gave him opportunity to project a rebellion. His plan was well laid, and found ready supporters among other exiles, especially the Poles. Some ambitious Russians and Tartars were in the secret. The object was to secure the complete independence of Siberia and the release of all prisoners. In the event of failure it was determined to march over the Kirghese steppes to Tashkend, and attempt to reach British India.

Everything was arranged, both in Eastern and Western Siberia. The revolt was to begin at Omsk, where most of the conspirators were stationed, and where there was an abundance of arms, ammunition, supplies, and money. The evening before the day appointed for the rising, the plot was revealed by three Polish soldiers, who confessed all they knew to Colonel Degrave, the governor of Omsk. Sierosiuski and his fellow conspirators in the city were at once arrested, and orders were despatched over the whole country to secure all accomplices and suspected persons. About a thousand arrests were made, and as soon as news of the affair reached St. Petersburg, a commission of inquiry was appointed. The investigations lasted until 1837, when they were concluded and the sentences confirmed.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FLOGGING WITH STICKS.]

Six princ.i.p.al offenders, including the chief, were each condemned to seven thousand blows of the _plette_, or stick, while walking the gauntlet between two files of soldiers. This is equivalent to a death sentence, as very few men can survive more than four thousand blows.

Only one of the six outlived the day when the punishment was inflicted, some falling dead before the full number of strokes had been given. The minor offenders were variously sentenced, according to the extent of their guilt, flogging with the stick being followed by penal colonization or military service in distant garrisons.

It is said that the priest Sierosiuski while undergoing his punishment recited in a clear voice the Latin prayer, "Misere mei, Deus, secundum magnam misericordium tuam."

On approaching the Irtish we found it bordered by hills which presented steep banks toward the river. The opposite bank was low and quite level. It is a peculiarity of most rivers in Russia that the right banks rise into bluffs, while the opposite sh.o.r.es are low and flat. The Volga is a fine example of this, all the way from Tver to Astrachan, and the same feature is observable in most of the Siberian streams that reach the Arctic Ocean. Various conjectures account for it, but none are satisfactory to scientific men.

Steamboats have ascended to Omsk, but there is not sufficient traffic to make regular navigation profitable. We crossed the Irtish two hundred and seventy versts south of Tobolsk, a city familiar to American readers from its connection with the "Story of Elizabeth."

The great road formerly pa.s.sed through Tobolsk, and was changed when a survey of the country showed that two hundred versts might be saved.

Formerly all exiles to Siberia were first sent to that city, where a "Commission of Transportation" held constant session. From Tobolsk the prisoners were told off to the different governments, provinces, districts, and 'circles,' and a.s.signed to the penalties prescribed by their sentences.

Many prominent exiles have lived in the northern part of the government of Tobolsk, especially at Beresov on the river Ob.

Menshikoff, a favorite of Peter the Great, died there in exile, and so did the Prince Dolgorouki and the count Osterman. It is said the body of Menshikoff was buried in the frozen earth at Beresov, and found perfectly preserved a hundred years after its interment. In that region the ground never thaws more than a foot or two from the surface; below to an unknown depth it is hardened by perpetual frost.

Many Poles have been involuntary residents of this region, and contributed to the development of its few resources.

North of Tobolsk, the Ostiaks are the princ.i.p.al aboriginals, and frequently wander as far south as Omsk. Before the Russian occupation of Siberia the natives carried on a trade with the Tartars of Central Asia, and the abundance and cheapness of their furs made them attractive customers. Marco Polo mentions a people "in the dark regions of the North, who employ dogs to draw their sledges, and trade with the merchants from Bokhara." There is little doubt he referred to the Ostiaks and Samoyedes.

A Polish lady exiled to Beresov in 1839, described in her journal her sensation at seeing a herd of tame bears driven through the streets to the market place, just as cattle are driven elsewhere. She records that while descending the Irtish she had the misfortune to fall overboard. The soldier escorting her was in great alarm, at the accident, and fairly wept for joy when she was rescued. He explained through his tears that her death would have been a serious calamity to him.

"I shall be severely punished," he said, "if any harm befalls you, and, for my sake, I hope you won't try to drown yourself, but will keep alive and well till I get rid of you."

Tobolsk is on the site of the Tartar settlement of Sibeer, from which the name of Siberia is derived. In the days of Genghis Khan northern Asia was overrun and wrested from its aboriginal inhabitants. Tartar supremacy was undisputed until near the close of the sixteenth century, when the Tartars lost Kazan and everything else west of the Urals. During the reign of Ivan the Cruel, a difficulty arose between the Czar and some of the Don Cossacks, and, as the Czar did not choose to emigrate, the Cossacks left their country for their country's good.

Headed by one Yermak, they retired to the vicinity of the Ural mountains, where they started a marauding business with limited liability and restricted capital. Crossing the Urals, Yermak subjugated the country west of the Irtish and founded a fortress on the site of Sibeer. He overpowered all the Tartars in his vicinity, and received a pardon for himself and men in return for his conquest.

The czar, as a mark of special fondness, sent Yermak a suit of armor from his own wardrobe. Yermak went one day to dine with some Tartar chiefs, and was arrayed for the first time in his new store clothes.

One tradition says he was treacherously killed by the Tartars on this occasion, and thrown in the river. Another story says he fell in by accident, and the weight of his armor drowned him. A monument at Tobolsk commemorates his deeds.

No leader rose to fill Yermak's place, and the Russians became divided into several independent bands. They had the good sense not to quarrel, and remained firm in the pursuit of conquest. They pushed eastward from the Irtish and founded Tomsk in 1604. Ten years later the Tartars united and attempted to expel the Russians. They surrounded Tomsk and besieged it for a long time. Russia was then distracted by civil commotions and the war with the Poles, and could not a.s.sist the Cossacks. The latter held out with great bravery, and at length gained a decisive victory. From that time the Tartars made no serious and organized resistance.

Subsequent expeditions for Siberian conquest generally originated at Tomsk. Cossacks pushed to the north, south, and east, forming settlements in the valley of the Yenesei and among the Yakuts of the Lena. In 1639 they reached the sh.o.r.es of the Ohotsk sea, and took possession of all Eastern Siberia to the Aldan mountains.

I believe history has no parallel to some features of this conquest. A robber-chieftain with a few hundred followers,--himself and his men under ban, and, literally, the first exiles to Siberia--pa.s.ses from Europe to Asia. In seventy years these Cossacks and their descendants, with, little aid from others, conquered a region containing nearly five million square miles. Everywhere displaying a spirit of adventure and determined bravery, they reduced the Tartars to the most perfect submission. The cost of their expeditions was entirely borne by individuals who sought remuneration in the lucrative trade they opened. The captured territory became Russian, though the government had neither paid for nor controlled the conquest.

I saw the portrait and bust of Yermak, but no one could a.s.sure me of their fidelity. The face was thoroughly Russian, and the lines of character were such as one might expect from the history of the man.

He was represented in the suit of armor he wore at his death.

[Ill.u.s.tration: TAIL PIECE]

CHAPTER XLVII.

The evening after we pa.s.sed the Irtish, a severe bouran arose. As the night advanced the wind increased. The road was filled and apparently obliterated. The yemshicks found it difficult to keep the track, and frequently descended to look for it. Each interval of search was a little longer than the preceding one, so that we pa.s.sed considerable time in impatient waiting. About midnight we reached a station, where we were urged to rest until morning, the people declaring it unsafe to proceed. A slight lull in the storm decided us and the yemshicks to go forward, but as we set out from the station it seemed like driving into the spray at the foot of Niagara. Midway between the station, we wandered from the route and appeared hopelessly lost, with the prospect of waiting until morning.

Just before nightfall, we saw three wolves on the steppe, pointing their sharp noses in our direction, and apparently estimating how many dinners our horses would make. Whether they took the mammoth into account I cannot say, but presume he was not considered. Wolves are numerous in all Siberia, and are not admired by the biped inhabitants.

When our road seemed utterly lost, and our chances good for a bivouac in the steppe, we heard a dismal howl in a momentary lull of the wind.

"VOLK," (wolf,) said the yemshick, who was clearing away the snow near the sleigh.

Again we heard the sound, and saw the horses lift their ears uneasily.

An instant later the fury of the wind returned. The snow whirled in dense clouds, and the roaring of the tempest drowned all other sounds.

Had there been fifty howling wolves, within a hundred yards of us, we could have known nothing until they burst upon us through the curtain of drifting snow.

It was a time of suspense. I prepared to throw off my outer garments in case we were attacked, and roused the doctor, who had been some time asleep. At the cry of "wolf," he was very soon awake, though he did not lose that calm serenity that always distinguished him. The yemshicks continued their search for the road, one of them keeping near the sleigh and the other walking in circles in the vicinity. Our position was not enviable.

[Ill.u.s.tration: LOST IN A SNOW STORM.]

To be served up _au natural_ to the lupine race was never my ambition, and I would have given a small sum, in cash or approved paper, for a sudden transportation to the Astor House, but with my weight and substance, all the more desirable to the wolves, a change of base was not practicable. Our only fire-arms were a shot-gun and a pistol, the latter unserviceable, and packed in the doctor's valise. Of course the wolves would first eat the horses, and reserve us for dessert. We should have felt, during the preliminaries, much like those unhappy persons, in the French revolution, who were last in a batch of victims to the guillotine.

After long delay the road was discovered, and as the wolves did not come we proceeded. We listened anxiously for the renewal of their howling, but our ears did not catch the unwelcome sound. The doctor exhibited no alarm. As he was an old traveler, I concluded to follow his example, and go to sleep.

In ordinary seasons wolves are not dangerous to men, though they commit more or less havoc among live stock. Sheep and pigs are their favorite prey, as they are easily captured, and do not resist. Horses and cattle are overpowered by wolves acting in packs; the hungry brutes displaying considerable strategy. A gentleman told me he once watched a dozen wolves attacking a powerful bull. Some worried him in front and secured his attention while others attempted to cut his ham-strings. The effort was repeated several times, the wolves relieving each other in exposed positions. At length the bull was crippled and the first part of the struggle gained. The wolves began to lick their chops in antic.i.p.ation of a meal, and continued to worry their expected prey up to the pitch of exhaustion. The gentleman shot two of them and drove the others into the forest. He could do no more than put the bull out of his misery. On departing he looked back and saw the wolves returning to their now ready feast.

The best parts of Russia for wolf-hunting are in the western governments, where there is less game and more population than in Siberia. It is in these regions that travelers are sometimes pursued by wolves, but such incidents are not frequent. It is only in the severest winters, when driven to desperation by hunger, that the wolves dare to attack men. The horses are the real objects of their pursuit, but when once a party is overtaken the wolves make no nice distinctions, and horses and men are alike devoured. Apropos of hunting I heard a story of a thrilling character.

"It had been," said the gentleman who narrated the incident, "a severe winter in Vitebsk and Vilna. I had spent several weeks at the country residence of a friend in Vitebsk, and we heard, during the latter part of my stay, rumors of the unusual ferocity of the wolves.

"One day Kanchin, my host, proposed a wolf-hunt. 'We shall have capital sport,' said he, 'for the winter has made the wolves hungry, and they will be on the alert when they hear our decoy.'

"We prepared a sledge, one of the common kind, made of stout withes, woven like basket-work, and firmly fastened to the frame and runners.

It was wide enough for both of us and the same height all around so that we could shoot in any direction except straight forward. We took a few furs to keep us warm, and each had a short gun of large bore, capable of carrying a heavy load of buck-shot. Rifles are not desirable weapons where one cannot take accurate aim. As a precaution we stowed two extra guns in the bottom of the sledge.

"The driver, Ivan, on learning the business before him, was evidently reluctant to go, but as a Russian servant has no choice beyond obeying his master, the man offered no objection. Three spirited horses were attached, and I heard Kanchin order that every part of the harness should be in the best condition.

"We had a pig confined in a strong cage of ropes and withes, that he might last longer than if dragged by the legs. A rope ten feet long was attached to the cage and ready to be tied to the sledge.

"We kept the pig in furs at the bottom of the sledge, and drove silently into the forest. The last order given by Kanchin was to open the gates of the courtyard and hang a bright lantern in front. I asked the reason of this, and he replied with a smile: 'If we should be going at full speed on our return, I don't wish to stop till we reach the middle of the yard.'

"As by mutual consent neither uttered a word as we drove along. We carried no bells, and there was no creaking of any part of the sledge.

Ivan did not speak but held his reins taut and allowed the horses to take their own pace. In his secure and warm covering the pig was evidently asleep. The moon and stars were perfectly unclouded, and there was no motion of anything in the forest. The road was excellent, but we did not meet or pa.s.s a single traveler. I do not believe I ever _felt_ silence more forcibly than then.

"The forest in that region is not dense, and on either side of the road there is a s.p.a.ce of a hundred yards or more entirely open. The snow lay crisp and sparkling, and as the country was but slightly undulating we could frequently see long distances. The apparent movement of the trees as we drove past them caused me to fancy the woods rilled with animate forms to whom the breeze gave voices that mocked us.

"About eight versts from the house we reached a cross road that led deeper into the forest. '_Naprava,_' in a low voice from my companion turned us to the right into the road. Eight or ten versts further Kanchin, in the same low tone, commanded '_Stoi._' Without a word Ivan drew harder upon his reins, and we came to a halt. At a gesture from my friend the team was turned about.

"Kanchin stepped carefully from the sledge and asked me to hand him the rope attached to the cage. He tied this to the rear cross-bar, and removing his cloak told me to do the same. Getting our guns, ammunition, and ourselves in readiness, and taking our seats with our backs toward the driver, we threw out the pig and his cage and ordered Ivan to proceed.