Chapter 9

After passing a few days at Avatcha, and gratifying the inhabitants with a ball on board of his vessel, Mr. Dobell set out, on the first of September, for Nijna Kamtchatsk, a town seven hundred and fifty miles distant, the residence of the governor, whom it was necessary for him to see, in order to make the commercial arrangements he desired. He ascended the Avatcha river, the banks of which are for the most part composed of fine meadow land, or hills thickly covered with birch. Early on the following day, the party left their boats, and proceeded on horseback over two or three very steep mountains, and amid clouds of mosquitoes, which tormented them exceedingly. The houses at which they stopped, from time to time, were in general black, smoky, and dirty, but the inhabitants kind and hospitable beyond measure, though poor. The universal food is fish--men, dogs, bears, wolves, and birds of prey, all live upon them, and indeed they abound, in quantities fully sufficient to supply all; they are seen in the streams sporting about by thousands, and even the shores are covered with dead ones thrown up by the current.

The dwelling of the Kamtchatdales is of two kinds--for the summer and the winter. The former, which is called a _ballagan,_ is a building of a conical form, composed of poles fourteen or fifteen feet long, laid up from the edge of a circle, ten or twelve feet in diameter, the tops meeting at the centre, and tied there by ozier twigs or ropes. The outside of these is covered with birch or pine bark, over which there is sometimes a thatching of coarse grass, fastened down by other poles and oziers. This kind of hut is generally erected in the centre of a square platform, elevated ten or twelve feet, upon large posts planted deep in the ground. Poles are again placed in rows under the building and between the posts, where they dry their fish, which the hut serves to cover from the weather, as well as to store and preserve them when dried. The door of the ballagan is always opposite to the water; the fire-place on a bed of earth outside, at one corner of the platform. A large piece of timber, with notches cut in it instead of steps, and placed against the platform at an angle of forty-five degrees, is the method of ascending and descending, particularly unsafe and inconvenient for those not accustomed to so uncouth a staircase.

The winter house, or _jourta_, is a sort of subterranean dwelling. It generally consists of a frame of timber, put into a square hole four or five feet deep, and within the frame a quantity of stakes are set close together, inclining a little inwards, and the earth thrown against them. The stakes are left round on the outside, but hewn within, and the top is framed over in the same manner and arched and supported by stanchions. In the centre of the roof is a square hole, which serves the double purpose of a door and a chimney, the inhabitants passing in or out by means of a piece of timber with notches cut in it, such as we have before described. The top and sides of the jourta are covered outside with a quantity of earth and sodded. At one end, there is a large hole with a stopper to it, which is opened when the oven is heating, to force the smoke out at the door. When once heated, and the stopper closed, jourtas are warm, and, were it not for the smoke, would be comfortable. The description of such subterranean habitations, and of the lives led by these rude people during their long and bitter winters, cannot be read without reviving in the memory those lines of Virgil, which describe a race similar in all respects--even to the acid liquors they distil; but dwelling in regions far less remote from the warm skies of Italy.--

"Ipsi in defossis specubus secura sub alta Otia agunt terra; congestaque robora, totasque Advolvere focis ulmos, ignique dedere. Hic noctem ludo ducunt, et pocula laeti Fermento atque acidis imitantur vitea sorbis. Talis hyperboreo septem subjecta trioni Gens effraena virum Riphaeo tunditur Euro Et pecudum fulvis velantur corpora setis."

The increase of civilization, wealth, and intercourse with other nations, has however effected a great change in the mode of life among this remote people. Cottages, made generally of logs, are substituted for these ruder mansions, especially in the neighbourhood of the sea-ports; and a traveller occasionally meets with much that reminds him of fairer climes, and a state of society less primitive.

"On reaching Sherrom, a cottage was pointed out to us as the habitation of the Toyune, the outward appearance of which was too engaging not to excite anticipations of good cheer within. As it was a low building, I put my head into one of the windows that was open, and was quite surprised to see so neat and clean a dwelling in that country. The name of the owner, who was Toyune of Sherrom, was Conon Merlin. He and his wife were absent fishing, but we were not less hospitably received by his daughter and daughter-in-law, two clean dressed pretty young women, who welcomed us with their smiles, and made us imagine, that, instead of Kamtchatka, we had got into the land of enchantment. Every thing about them seemed in unison with their appearance. The tables and stools were of poplar white as snow; no vermin was to be seen on the walls, which were hewn smooth and whitened; and the whole presented a picture of neatness, cleanliness, and comfort, such as we had not yet seen in Kamtchatka. In fifteen minutes after our arrival, a refreshing cup of tea was prepared, with fresh butter, cream, and milk; and their being served up in so neat a manner, made them taste more delicious than usual. Our hostess being a well-behaved young woman, we requested her to do the honours of the table, which she performed with the utmost cheerfulness and politeness, just as if she had been bred in a city. In the evening the old Toyune and his wife returned from fishing, and seemed quite overjoyed to see us, as such guests, they said, were not common; and they certainly took uncommon pains to treat and to please us. The old man appeared between sixty and seventy years of age, with a long white beard and moustachios, which, added to a mild, sensible, and prepossessing countenance, gave him a most sage and respectable appearance, and personified to my imagination the wise enchanter whose name he bore. Conon Merlin had been educated by the famous Mr. Evashkin, a Russian nobleman, who was banished to Kamtchatka during the reign of Catharine II., and is since dead; but who was well known to former travellers in Kamtchatka. Our Toyune, therefore, could write and read Russian well, knew most of the dialects of Kamtchatka, and was certainly the most intelligent man I ever met among the natives."

On the morning of the 13th, soon after leaving the village of Klutchee, they beheld the majestic volcano of Klootchefsky, rearing its awful and flaming head far above the clouds. This huge mountain, towering to the skies, is a perfect cone, decreasing gradually from its enormous base to the summit; its top is whitened by perpetual snow, and the flame and smoke, for ever issuing from its crater, are seen shading the sky at the distance of many miles. Sometimes quantities of ashes are thrown out, so fine as to impregnate the atmosphere, and be inhaled in breathing; and, it is said, that occasionally a white clammy substance, resembling, perhaps, the honey dew elsewhere observed, has flowed from the crater, sweet to the taste, and very adhesive when touched. Altogether, this mountain is one of the most picturesque and sublime of the volcanoes described by travellers, though from its remote situation it has been, and probably long will be, visited but by few.

Mr. Dobell reached Nijna Kamtchatsk on the 14th of September, and was most kindly received and treated by the governor, General Petrowsky, with whom he made all the arrangements he desired, and, after a visit of six days, returned to St. Peter and St. Paul. He describes the town of Nijna Kamtchatsk as one of eighty or ninety houses, and between four and five hundred inhabitants. Its situation is not good, the ground being low and moist. It is on the bank of the river Kamtchatka, about thirty-five versts from the sea. Since the period we allude to, the seat of government has been removed to St. Peter and St. Paul, and the town has lost nearly all its population, there being but five or six families left there.

On his way back he again visited his kind host, the Toyune of Sherrom, whom he found laying in his winter stock of provisions, which offered a good example of the economy, wants, and supplies of a Kamtchatdale family. He assured Mr. Dobell that himself and his sons had killed twelve bears, eleven mountain sheep, several reindeer, a large number of geese, ducks, and tiel, and a few swans and pheasants. "In November," said he, "we shall catch many hares and partridges; and I have one thousand fresh salmon, lately caught, and now frozen for our winter's stock. Added to this, in my cellar there is a good supply of cabbages, turnips, and potatoes, with various sorts of berries, and about thirty poods of sarannas, the greater part of which we have stolen from the field mice, who collect them in large quantities for the winter." In the spring, the Kamtchatdales supply themselves with the skins of the hair seals and other sea animals, from whose fat also they obtain oil. The hunting of these is therefore a matter of no small importance, and carries many of the Kamtchatdales down to the coast. It is accompanied with great fatigue and occasional risk.

"The Toyune of Malka," says Mr. Dobell, "related to me a curious adventure that occurred to him and two of his friends. They repaired in the latter part of April to their usual hunting place, where they found the sea still covered with ice for a considerable extent. Each had a sledge and five dogs, and although the wind blew strongly off shore, they did not hesitate to go on the ice in search of seals, as it seemed firmly attached to the shore, and they observed some Kamtchatdales hunting on it farther up the coast. They discovered some seals at a considerable distance out, and repaired thither to kill them. Already had they killed two, and were preparing to tie them with thongs on their sledges, when one of the party, who staid a little behind, came to them of a sudden, crying that the ice was moving, and that all the other Kamtchatdales had gone to the shore! This news alarmed them so much, that they left their seals on the ice, and seating themselves on their sankas or sledges, pushed their dogs at full speed to regain the shore. Unfortunately they arrived too late; the ice had already separated from the land to the extent of a hundred yards; and as it began to break into pieces, they were obliged to return to the part that appeared to them the strongest and thickest. As the wind now blew extremely hard, they were soon driven out to sea, where the swell being very heavy, the ice began to break again all round them, leaving them at last on a solid clump, from forty to fifty feet in circumference, that was of great thickness and kept entire. They were now out of sight of land, driven before a gale of wind and a heavy sea, and their icy vessel rolled so dreadfully that they had much difficulty to keep themselves on its surface. However, being furnished with ostals, (poles pointed with iron,) they made holes and planted them firmly in the ice; and then tied themselves, their dogs, and sankas, fast to them. Without this precaution, the Toyune said they would all have been thrown into the sea. They were sea-sick and disheartened; but nevertheless, said Spiridon, (the Toyune,) 'I had hopes, and I told my comrades I thought we should be thrown on some coast.' It was now two days they had been at sea, and towards evening the wind abated a little, the weather cleared off, and they saw land not far off, which one of them, who had been formerly at the Kurile islands, knew to be Poromochin, and they now fully expected to be drifted on its shores. However, as the night approached, the wind changed to the very opposite direction, and blew even more violently than before. The clump of ice was tossed about in a most uneasy manner, and several times the ostals and the thongs were in danger of being broken by the violent concussion of the waves against the ice.

"All that night and all the next day the storm continued with unceasing violence. On the morning of the fourth day, before daylight, they found that their clump had been driven amongst other cakes of ice, and was closely surrounded on all sides. When the day broke, how great was their joy and astonishment to perceive themselves near the land, and within about twenty versts of the place whence they had been driven! They had suffered much from thirst, as they found the ice salt as well as the water. Not having either eaten or drunk during all the time, they found themselves so weak that they had the greatest difficulty in preparing their sledges, and in getting from the ice to the land. The moment they landed, they offered up their prayers and thanks to God. Spiridon charged his companions not to eat snow or drink much water at a time, although they were almost dying with thirst; as they could soon get to an ostrog that was only about twenty or thirty versts distant. They had not proceeded far before Spiridon saw the tracks of some reindeer; he therefore made his companions stop, and, taking his gun, walked gently round a high bluff on the coast, whither the deer had gone, and had the good fortune to shoot one of them. His companions no sooner heard the noise of the gun than they came to him. They cut the throat of the deer immediately, and drank his blood while warm. Spiridon said that they felt their strength revived almost immediately after drinking the blood. Having given some of the meat to the dogs, they rested themselves about an hour, and then set off for the ostrog, where they arrived safely. One of them, who indulged too much in eating at first, died a short time after; the other two survived; but Spiridon said he had ever since been afflicted with a complaint in his breast and shortness of breath."

On the 21st of October the winter set in, and made the travelling much more difficult and uncomfortable. The cold, however, in Kamtchatka, is by no means so severe as is generally supposed. About the sea coast, the thermometer rarely passes 15 deg. to 20 deg. of Reaumur, and in the interior, seldom exceeds 20 deg. to 25 deg.; and even this but for a short time. The ordinary cold is about 8 deg. to 10 deg..

After remaining nearly three months at St. Peter and St. Paul, Mr. Dobell set out on his expedition to Russia. He left the former place on the 15th of January, with the determination to proceed along the Aleuters or north-east coast of the peninsula of Kamtchatka, thence cross over to Kammina at the head of the sea of Ochotsk, and proceed along the eastern shore of that large bay to the town of Ochotsk itself. He was accompanied by two Chinese servants, and proceeded in sledges drawn by dogs. He had frequent occasions to confirm the sentiments he had previously entertained of the hospitable and honest character of the inhabitants of the peninsula of Kamtchatka; and he found the climate and natural resources of the country far superior to what he had been led to expect. He combats the opinion, long prevalent, that it is a barren and desolate country, depopulated of the aborigines through the extreme poverty of its resources; and contends that few parts of the world would more amply repay the industry of the inhabitants, if well peopled and wisely governed.

The dogs displayed all the sagacity, perseverance, and swiftness for which they have been celebrated by travellers in northern regions, and he had frequent opportunities of observing the instinct or skill with which they pursued their way in the midst of the most violent storms, when every trace of the road had disappeared. He gives them a decided preference over the reindeer, though he states that the latter are more fleet, when put to their full speed. They are not docile however. When the snows are deep, and the roads difficult, if the reindeer be pressed to exert himself he becomes restive and stubborn, and neither beating nor coaxing will move him. He will lie down and remain in one spot for several hours, until hunger presses him forward; and if at the second attempt he is again embarrassed, he will lie down and perish in the snow for want of food. Reindeer consequently require a great deal of care and management, and should never be treated too roughly, or they become totally unmanageable. Besides, great attention must be paid to them in summer, and their pastures often changed, or they contract diseases and die fast.

At Veyteway, the most northern point on the eastern coast visited by Mr. Dobell, he found a Toyune who had come a hundred and fifty versts, from motives of curiosity, to meet him. Though he had never before seen any one adopting the customs of civilized life, he behaved with great propriety, and did not seem in the least embarrassed. Some of the trunks which were covered with lackered leather and full of brass nails, excited his astonishment, and indeed proved a fund of amusement for the natives on all the road. Bets were made constantly as to the number of nails on each trunk, and they were counted over and over, a hundred times, with the greatest care. From this point Mr. Dobell struck across the peninsula, and reached Kammina, at the head of the sea of Ochotsk, on the 24th of March.

In proceeding southwardly along the coast, the hardiness of his dogs was strongly put to the test. An insufficient supply of provisions had been laid in, and some time before they reached Igiga, the first town where a fresh stock could be obtained, they were reduced to an allowance of half a fish each, daily. When the dried fish were consumed, they were fed on reindeer meat and biscuit, of which but a very small supply was left; but it refreshed and strengthened them, so that one of the party, whose dogs were strongest, was enabled to go on more rapidly to Igiga, to beg from the commandant assistance and food for the rest of the party. When the poor creatures who were left perceived the dogs coming to assist them, nothing could exceed their joy. They sprang into the air, barked aloud, and set forward with such eagerness to meet them, that restraint was impossible. When they came up, they jumped and fawned upon them, and licked them with an expression of pleasure and satisfaction which it was impossible to mistake. As they approached the town, it was utterly in vain to hold them back, they set off at full speed, and if it had not been for the assistance of several of the inhabitants, who ran and caught hold of them, the sledges would have been upset, and every thing broken to pieces.

Leaving Igiga, Mr. Dobell continued his journey by Yamsk and Towisk, through the country of the Tongusees. He found these people active, persevering, and obliging; those whom he employed performing every sort of service with cheerfulness. They are men of small stature, slightly made, and resembling the northern Chinese in features. Their countenances generally were indicative of a tractable mild disposition, and bore a strong Asiatic cast of character, which is indeed found amongst all the natives throughout Siberia. Their fidelity, however, was not on an equality with their other good characteristics, as our travellers had soon an opportunity of learning, by an event which placed their lives in most imminent peril. The provisions laid in at Towisk were nearly consumed, and the time at which they should have reached the next town had arrived, when the native guides confessed that they had mistaken the road, and there was every prospect of the whole party perishing in the desert. What were the feelings of Mr. Dobell, when awaking one morning, in this situation, he found that the Tongusees were no longer with him; the rascals had gone off in the night, not leaving a single deer for food, and deserting a party of five in number, all strangers, on one of the highest mountains of Siberia, in a wild and uninhabited country! In this emergency Mr. Dobell displayed great firmness, resolution, and all the energy and resources of an experienced traveller; indeed the portion of his volumes which contains the account of his escape from the perilous situation in which he was left, and of the sufferings he endured, and the expedients to which he was obliged to resort, is peculiarly and highly interesting. With the aid of a partial map of Kamtchatka, and a pocket compass, he set out to regain the sea coast, from which they were, as he supposed, not very far distant. Leaving all their clothes, and every article with which they could possibly dispense, they put the rest of their baggage on two sleds, which they dragged with them. They limited their nourishment to the least possible quantity of food, drinking tea, of which they had a small supply, twice in twenty-four hours, and in the morning taking some thin rice water, with a small lump of chocolate each, to make it palatable. They were obliged to construct bridges of logs over numerous rivulets, swelled with the snows, which crossed their path, and they were exposed to a succession of furious storms. On the twentieth day they arrived at what they supposed a long narrow lake, and determined there to pass the night. Having left his companions to make what preparations for so doing their wretched situation afforded, Mr. Dobell went to examine the lake. On approaching the bank, he discovered two small ducks, quite near the shore, and had the good fortune to shoot them both at one shot. "Running to the water to pick them up," he says, "God only knows the inexpressible joy that filled my heart, at beholding the water move, and finding that we were on the banks of a large river." They all set to work actively the next day, and had soon completed a raft on which they embarked, and trusted themselves to the current to reach the ocean, so long and eagerly desired.