Part 11

At break of day, as I was going to visit the workmen, I trod on an old and large cord that lay on the bank. Elate with my good fortune, I carried it to my soldiers; instantly it was cut to pieces, and unravelled; we had thus a supply of tow, and the three most important leaks were stopped. The difficulty was to fasten and keep in the tow; my workmen proposed to me to cover the chinks with laths, but we had no nails of any sort. Necessity is the mother of invention. With a wimble, which was the only tool we had, we made holes round the leaky places; some small cord, which I found in my baggage, being passed through them, and the holes afterwards filled up with pegs, the laths were so firmly fastened as to prevent the water from penetrating the boat. At three o’clock in the afternoon our repairs were completed, the helm fixed, and the oars adjusted; and I ordered my people to be ready by the next morning.

When we were just on the point of setting off, a caravan of Yakoutsk merchants appeared; they were going to Okotsk, and I entreated M. Allegretti to embrace the opportunity of accompanying them. Our separation took place at nine o’clock. On leaving him, all the services he had rendered me, and the proofs of attachment he had evinced, presented themselves to my view, and made an impression on my heart.

I engaged two of the soldiers to row me, one of whom was the man that had before made this voyage; Nedarezoff was at the helm; and Golikoff and I were to relieve him when he should be tired. The rapidity of the current carried us on with such violence, that we could easily dispense with the oars. At the rate we sailed my soldiers had no doubt that we should reach the famous cataract before night, which was more than eighty wersts from the place of our departure. Their conversation turned solely upon the dangers we should have to encounter. Though I was already prepossessed with the idea of their inexperience, by continually hearing these discourses, dictated by fear, I began at last to be alarmed myself, and resolved to act with all possible prudence, that I might have no reason to reproach myself. I frequently went on shore, and walked along the river to see how far the navigation was safe. Towards the evening a west north-west wind, brought on rain. Rather than run any risk in such bad weather I halted, and ordered my tent to be pitched over the boat.

The next day, after four hours navigation, interrupted by frequent landings to observe the approach of the cataract, we at last perceived it. Accompanied by my two pilots, I went to examine the spot. At a short distance from it I saw a little stony island, which is only perceptible when the waters begin to fall. My soldiers advised me to pass, if the waters were sufficiently high, by the way of a canal which we should find at the right; though the descent was very rapid, they assured me that it was nothing in comparison with that of the cataract. This advice engrossed my whole attention, and having convinced myself of its utility, I returned to the boat, resolved to put it in practice. I encouraged my people in the best manner I could, and then took the helm. Nedarezoff sat by me, and Golikoff assisted one of the rowers, for we had only two oars. We proceeded in this manner till we reached the conflux of the two streams, one of which led to the canal, and the other lost itself in the cataract. The impetuosity of the latter would have drawn us into the abyss, but for the skill and strength of my rowers. The instant the signal is given, their nervous arms are stretched to strike the oar, and to struggle against the waves; the waters rage and foam, and the violent shocks they give to our boat, my unceasing exhortations, and more than all the fear of being destroyed, redouble the ardour of my soldiers. We are at length extricated from the treacherous current, and enter into the canal. How smooth did its waters appear after this terrifying passage! To give my people rest, I abandoned myself to the gentle declivity of the stream: the helm was sufficient to direct the boat.

When we were at the foot of the cataract, curiosity led me to turn my head. I trembled at its dreadful aspect, and thanked heaven for having afforded me a different way. Nine boats out of ten that should attempt this passage, would infallibly be wrecked:--the reader shall judge.

What must be the fate of so small and feeble a float, if, in defiance of danger, it should be permitted to follow the course of the torrent? In its precipitate descent, I see it the sport of the waves that roll one upon another, and fall with a deafening noise from a height of twenty feet upon three enormous rocks concealed by the foam, and over which it must necessarily pass. Without a miracle, how should it avoid sinking, or escape the being dashed to pieces? Meanwhile, when the water is so low as to render the canal not navigable, there is no other way left. My guides informed me that the boats were always unladed before the risk was attempted, and that this was all the precaution that was taken, and all the skill that could be displayed by the pilots. These cataracts are called _porog_.

We had still a difficult pass to make, that terrified my people; it is called _Podporojenei_, or the ebb of the cataract, which is about the distance of a werst from it. They were still talking of it when we arrived, and I had scarcely time to explain to them the manœuvre which I thought it necessary to practice. Our object was to choose the deepest side; the blackness of the water seemed to point it out, and I steered towards it. The multiplicity and bulk of the waves tossed us about with more violence than if we had been in the open sea. All at once our boat was pitched upon a rock that was on a level with the water, and which none of us had perceived. We were thrown down by the force of the shock; my companions imagined themselves to be lost, and had not the courage to raise themselves; it was in vain I called upon them to row on; they paid no attention to my cries. I caught hold of the helm, and perceiving that the boat had sustained no injury, I animated their drooping spirits, and prevailed on them to take their stations. We owed our safety to the moss with which the rock was covered; the boat touched it in its passage, and glided along without suffering any damage.

To avoid this accident, it is necessary to pass exactly in the middle of the stream, and to pay no attention to the waves which rise, and seem to break against the rocks. The passage is about three hundred yards. At the bottom of this podporojenei, another river empties itself; the clearness of its water, and the smoothness of its current by the side of the agitation and turmoil of the Yudoma, form so striking a contrast, that the eye for a long time distinguishes the one from the other.

At the left of this last is another arm equally formidable, and which is called _Tschortofskoï-protok_, or devil’s arm. It pours itself into the Yudoma about thirty wersts from where this river joins the Maya. It is known by the number of rocks and dead trees that obstruct its entrance; if you are not careful to steer constantly to the right, you are drawn in by a very rapid current, and your ruin is inevitable.

I hoped to kill a bear that was prowling on the bank; I loaded my gun with deer-shot, and fired at it, but in spite of its wound it fled to the woods, and I lost sight of it. The next moment a beautiful rein deer started fifteen paces before me, but my gun not being charged, it escaped. I saw also a number of argalis, swans, geese, and a fox, but I could reach none of them.

This day I perceived, for the first time since my departure from Yudomskoi-krest, a forest of pine trees. To make up for it, I had not been able to count the numerous woods of firs that presented themselves to my view, both on the right and left, and it is this tree[73] that furnishes the masts and other timber used in all the dock yards on this coast.

I felt myself indisposed by the attack of a fever, but I paid no great attention to it; I merely laid myself down in the boat, and observed no other regimen than that of drinking cold water. We no longer halted during the night, as our navigation was become perfectly easy.

Notwithstanding the assertions I had heard, I could not easily believe that the Ourak was more rapid than the Yudoma. We sailed on the latter ten, twelve, and frequently fifteen wersts an hour. Its most regular direction appeared to be west, and it forms at its mouth a great number of small islands.

I entered the Maya on the 22, at two o’clock in the morning, and proceeded in a direction nearly north, but inclining now and then to the east. The banks of this river are less steep, less dreary than those of the preceding, though at intervals there are mountains and even rocks. The difference of the current was still more perceptible, as we only sailed four wersts an hour.

About noon we met nine boats loaded with a variety of military stores for M. Billings’ expedition. They were drawn by men, and were going up the rivers that we had descended. I was not able to approach them, but I knew that they were bound for Okotsk, under the command of M. Behring, son of the navigator, to whom Russia owes such interesting discoveries on the north-west coast of America. He expected, I was told, to be six weeks in performing what had cost us only four days.

The gnats became troublesome to us to a degree that was almost insupportable. We had no other way of keeping them off than by the smoke of rotten wood, with which we were obliged to make an incessant fire in the night as well as in the day.

In the afternoon of the 23, I quitted the river Maya for another, larger and more rapid, called the Aldann[74]; but I merely crossed it, in order to gain a habitation on the other side, opposite to the mouth of the Maya[75].

I found there some marines belonging to M. Billings’s expedition, who advised me to embrace the opportunity of a number of horses of burthen, lately arrived, and that would on their return convey me as far as _Amgui_. According to my itinerary, I was to go by water to _Belskaïa-pereprava_, which is in the usual course from Okotsk to Yakoutsk, but in going by way of Amgui I should considerably shorten it. This certainty, and the happy chance that provided me with horses, induced me to alter my previous plan.

I paid my guides[76], and as their orders were to leave the boat at Belskaïa-pereprava, which was a hundred and fifty wersts farther, they continued their course on the Aldann. They were not a werst from me, when I repented the having dismissed them. The Yakouts, to whom the horses belonged, and who were apprehensive of fatiguing them too much, heard with regret that I intended to make use of them. Not daring openly to refuse me, they endeavoured to escape by stealth: they were pursued, and by dint of promises brought back. To make sure of them we were obliged to shut them all up in one isba, from which they were not permitted to come out till they had consented to conduct me to Amgui; the precaution had in the mean time been taken of selecting ten of the best horses for my use.

After a good night’s rest, which effectually recovered me from my slight indisposition, I gaily mounted my horse, accompanied by the Yakouts, who had been lectured by Golikoff, and were become more docile. I was astonished at their good humour, which made them sing the whole way.

Their music is by no means agreeable, and consists of a monotonous and continual shake in the throat. They are however great improvvisatori. Their words cost them no labour or efforts of genius, and the subject is derived from whatever passes before them, or occurs to their mind. If a bird flies by their side, they will make a song of it that shall last for an hour. Not that their imagination accumulates ideas; the song, on the contrary, is nothing more than an endless repetition of the words, _Lo! the bird in his flight!_

For the space of a hundred wersts we travelled across a moving swamp, in which our horses sunk so deep that we were obliged to alight in order to assist in extricating them; the rest of the way was not so bad. In the midst of a large wood, I saw upon the border of a lake two fishermen employed in making their winter provisions. Their whole habitation was merely a roof made of the bark of trees; when the summer is at an end, they seek among their relations a less exposed and warmer retreat.

The 25, we had a great deal of rain, particularly while I halted, which was from four o’clock in the afternoon till eight in the evening. My Yakouts, to defend themselves from it, placed upon their shoulders a bears’ skin in the manner of a cape. The tail of a horse, fixed in the large handle of a whip, served to keep off the flies. We were so harassed by them, that I hesitated not in having recourse to this species of fly flap.

The 26 furnished nothing remarkable. I arrived in the evening at the border of the river Amga, two hundred wersts from the harbour of the mouth of the Maya. Its depth took from us all desire of crossing it by fording, and the boats in the mean time were all on the opposite side. We called for assistance, but it was to no purpose. Out of patience at seeing no person appear, one of my Yakouts stripped himself, and swam over to fetch us a boat. The crossing of our whole caravan was not completed in less than an hour. We immediately mounted our horses, in order to reach the habitation of a Yakout prince, named Girkoff. In our way I saw a number of yourts, but they were all at least a werst from one another. At a little distance from that of the _knesetsk_, or prince, Golikoff went on before, to endeavour to procure us a good reception.

The prince really showed me great civility; he not only offered me his yourt, and treated me with milk and excellent butter, but promised that his best horses[77] should the next day be at my service. Being informed that I stood in need of repose, he pointed out the hut he had destined for me, and while it was preparing, he had the politeness to show me the conveniences of his yourt, which was one of the best I had yet seen.

The size of these houses varies according to the wealth of the proprietor, and the number of his family. Beams, placed by the side of one another, and plastered with clay, form the walls, which are not like ours, perpendicular. Inclining towards the top, they support a roof, the slope of which is very inconsiderable: in some yourts the roof is supported by posts. The house has but one door, and is divided, as I have already observed, into two apartments. The cleanest is inhabited by the family, who sleep in distinct huts, distributed at equal distances against the walls, and which I can compare to nothing better than the small cabins in Dutch ships: every couple have a hut to themselves. The other part of the yourt is for the cattle, and is nothing more than a stable. In the center of the building is a round chimney made of wood, and guarded from accidents by a thick clay covering. When they light a fire, the wood is placed perpendicularly. Cross beams are occasionally placed in the chimney, upon which they hang their kettles, and these are repeated, in proportion to the number of vessels they have to boil.

In one corner of the yourt a leathern trough is fixed, and mare’s milk every day put into it, and stirred with a stick, similar to what is made use of in churning butter. Every person who enters, the women particularly, before they attend to any other business, stir the milk a few minutes; it is by this means they procure that sourish, but at the same time pleasant beverage, called _koumouiss_. If allowed to ferment, it becomes a very potent liquor.

My host spoke the Russian language tolerably well[78]; I embraced the opportunity of drawing from him some information respecting the customs, manners, and religion of his countrymen, which I shall insert in this place, together with some notes that I had before made on these subjects.

When summer commences, they leave their winter habitations, and with their families, and a small number of horses, go to make their harvests of fodder for consumption during the frost season. They repair to a considerable distance from their yourt, and to the most fertile cantons. In their absence, the horses are left to the care of the servants, and the neighbouring pastures serve for the maintenance of all their herds.

I very much regret the not having been present at their festival in the month of May, in celebration of the return of spring. They assemble in the open country, where they roast oxen and horses; and being supplied with an abundance of fermented koumouiss, they eat and drink to satiety, dancing and singing at intervals, and concluding at last with necromancies. Their chamans preside in these festivals, and deal out their extravagant predictions.

These sorcerers are more at liberty and more revered than in Kamtschatka. Regarded as interpreters of the gods, they grant their mediation to the stupid Yakout, who implores it with trembling, but always pays for it. I have seen these dupes give their finest horse to conduct a chaman to his village. Nothing can be more frightful than the magic exhibitions of these impostors. As I knew nothing of them but from report, I was desirous of being present. I was astonished at the veracity of the account that had been given me: as I have already accurately related it[79], I shall content myself with describing the chaman that exhibited before me.

Dressed in a habit that was ornamented with bells and plates of iron, which made a deafening noise, he beat besides on a _bouben_, or tabor, with a degree of force that was terrifying. He then ran about like a maniac, with his mouth open, and his head turned in every direction. His black deshevelled hair[80] concealed his face, and beneath it proceeded at one moment real groans, the next tears and sobs, and then loud peals of laughter, the usual preludes of these revelations.

In the idolatry of the Yakouts, we find all the absurdities and superstitious practices of the ancient Kamtschadales, Koriacs, Tchouktchis, and other inhabitants of these countries. They have however some more solid principles; and amidst the ridiculous fictions under which they are buried, we meet with ideas ingenious enough respecting the supreme being, miracles, and future rewards and punishments.

But I was chiefly struck with the vivacity and singularity of their turn of mind. They delight in the fables drawn from their absurd mythology, and they relate them with all the confidence of credulity itself. By comparing them with our own, one is tempted no longer to hold in such esteem our ancient and modern fabulists, when we see this species of composition cultivated by such rivals. The two following fables were translated for me by Golikoff, word for word.

There arose one day in a large lake, a violent contest between the different species of fish. The question was the establishment of a tribunal of supreme judges, whose business it should be to govern the whole finny tribe. The herring, and most diminutive fish, conceived that they had as much right to the prerogative as the salmon. From one thing to another the dispute became so warm that the small fish united in a body against the large, who took advantage of their weakness to insult and persecute them. Hence intestine and bloody wars that end in the destruction of one of the two parties. The vanquished, who escaped from being killed, fled to the small canals, and left the large fish, who had the victory, masters of the lake. Such is the law of the strongest.

The other fable bears a greater resemblance to our old women’s tales, with which children are terrified, and the tediousness of a rustic evening beguiled. I should be apt to suspect that it was the production of a chaman.

A Yakout had failed in respect, or done some injury to his chaman. The devil, to avenge the latter, transformed himself into a cow; and, having mixed in the herd, contrived, while it was feeding by the side of a wood, to steal the finest heifers. In the evening when the herdsman returned, his enraged master ascribed all the loss to his negligence, and drove him from his house. Immediately the devil appeared in the dress of a herdsman, an agreement was made, and the next day he drove the cows to field. One, two days passed, and the Yakout saw nothing of his herd. In his distress he went with his wife, searched every where for his cows, and at last found them--but in what disorder! Upon his approach they began to skip and dance to the sound of the flute[81] of the perfidious herdsman. The master stormed and raved. “Hold there,” said the devil to him. “It well becomes thee indeed, who hast abused the confidence of the most respectable of chamans, to accuse me of stealing thy herd. May this serve thee as a lesson, and teach thee to give to every man that which belongs to him.” Upon this the herd and the herdsman disappeared, and the poor Yakout lost all his property.

The place where this scene passed, has since that time been considered as the abode of infernal spirits. The incredulous scruple not to assert that the devil who stole the cows, was no other than the chaman himself; but such is the simplicity of the honest Yakouts, that they feel a repugnance at this suspicion, and treat it as horrible blasphemy.

Remains of old tombs of the Yakouts were frequently pointed out to me in the woods. They were coffins clumsily made, and suspended on the branches of trees. I know not from what motive they have renounced this custom of exposing their dead in the open air, and at a distance from their habitations; but at present their mode of interment is similar to that of Christians.

The funerals are attended with a kind of pomp more or less magnificent, in proportion to the rank and wealth of the defunct. If a prince, he is arrayed in his finest habits, and most splendid arms. The body, placed in a coffin, is carried by the family to the tomb; deep groans announce the solemn procession. His favourite horse, and another the best of his stud, both richly caparisoned, and led by a valet, or near relation, walk by the side of the corpse. When arrived at the burying place, they are tied to two stakes[82] fixed near the grave, and while the master is interred, their throats are cut over the corpse. This bloody libation is the homage paid to his attachment to these animals, who are supposed to follow him into the other world, where it is imagined that he will again be able to enjoy them. They are then flayed; the head and hide, in one entire piece, are fixed horizontally upon the branches of trees at a small distance from the grave; and such is the memorial that is erected. A fire is then kindled, and the last proof of friendship for the deceased consists in roasting and eating upon the spot these favoured animals. The feast being concluded the company disperses. The same ceremonial is observed for a woman, except that instead of a horse, they sacrifice her favourite cow.

The Yakouts are robust, and in general large. They resemble the Tartars in the cast of their features, and there is said also to be a great similarity in the idioms of these two people; I can only affirm that the Yakouts are very abrupt in their manner of speaking, and do not connect their words.

Their dress is simple, and nearly the same all the year round, the only difference is, that in winter it is made of skins. Over their chemise they commonly wear a large striped waistcoat with sleeves. Their breeches do not extend below the middle of the thigh, but their long boots, called _sarri_, reach above the knee. In hot weather they wear nothing but the breeches.