Through Siberia

Departure from Kara.—Parting hospitality.—Ust-Kara police-master.—Head waters of the Shilka.—Collins’s descent of Ingoda.—The Onon.—Formation of Shilka.—Scenery below Stretinsk.—Shilkinsk.—Hospitality of police-master.—Non-arrival of steamer.—Efforts at conversation.—Steaming down the river.—Shilka scenery.—Tributaries from north and south.—Arrival at confluence of Shilka and Argun.

My steamer was due at Ust-Kara on Sunday evening. It was arranged, therefore, that my host should drive me to the river and see me off; or, if the steamer did not come, then leave me to wait its arrival in the house of the police-master. The colonel was pleased to say that he regretted my departure. He seldom received visits of the kind I had paid, which naturally had been more pleasant, he said, than inspection visits of officials. He alluded, however, to a visit to Kara of the Grand Duke Alexei-Alexeivitch as having done much good, and he was desirous of gathering all the information he could respecting our treatment of criminals in England.

The colonel’s farewell did not end in words, for, like a true Russian, he made ample provision for his parting guest. Some Tunguses had passed a few days previously, of whom he had bought a box, of native manufacture, both curious and useful, and this he proceeded to fill for me with the good things of Kara. These included roast chickens and a piece of boiled ham. Preserves, too, my host had discovered that I liked, and I must therefore take some pots of jam recently made. Did I like cheese? Well—at home, half a pound would suffice me for a twelvemonth; but in Siberia, where good butter was scarce, and a cheese cost ten shillings, I had learned to regard it as a delicacy. The colonel therefore insisted on my taking the greater part of a Dutch bowler, and he regretted that he could not offer me the only piece he had of what looked like Cheddar, because he was expecting a visit from his Excellency the Governor of the province, and wanted a delicacy to set before him. The extreme kindness with which this was done was almost embarrassing. In England it would appear strange, but in the district of the Amur these were presents not to be despised, for some of them I could have otherwise obtained neither for love nor money.

At last we set out duly laden, intending to call on our way at the prisons I had not yet seen. Packing, however, had taken rather long; and when we came to the first prison, where the officer was standing ready to receive us, I was afraid we should not have time, and that our staying might involve the missing of the steamer. I therefore begged that we might push on, which we did, to Ust-Kara. Here I looked over various buildings, which have been already referred to, as the summer hospital, with 93 patients, the women’s wards, and the wards for the old and superannuated men, also the new cellular prison for politicals, and a prison in which they manufacture various requisites for the use of the convicts. In this last, five men wished to sing to us a piece of Church music, which they did, and thus ended my visits to five of the six prisons of Kara. Evening was now drawing on, and as the boat had not come, I was consigned to the care of the police-master, and bade adieu to Colonel Kononovitch with feelings of regret.

From Ust-Kara the steamer was to bear me to the Amur. This will be a convenient place, therefore, from which to say something further about the head waters of that river, namely, of the Ingoda and Onon, which form the Shilka; and the Argun, which, with the Shilka, forms the Amur.

The Argun, Onon, and Ingoda all rise in the Kentai (or Khangai) and Yablonoi mountains. From the summit of this latter range the traveller approaching Chita from the west first sees the Ingoda at the foot of the range. From Chita to Stretinsk the journey can be made by water, and Mr. Collins, the first American traveller in this region, in 1858, so accomplished it.⁠[1] On the fourth day he passed the river Onon, coming in from the south. This stream rises in the same district, but somewhat further south than the Ingoda, and in its upper course its banks are wooded. It is navigable all the summer.

By the union of the Ingoda with the Onon is formed the Shilka, and at the junction the two rivers have each run a course of some 400 miles. The stream now increases in breadth and slightly in depth, so that, when not frozen, the river can be navigated at all seasons in small boats, though with some risk from the numerous sandbanks and rapids. About 40 miles below the Onon, the Nertcha enters from the north, and here stands the old city of Nertchinsk, not far from which the floating traveller passes the monastery of Nertchinsky, and subsequently arrives at Stretinsk.

It was from this spot I commenced the descent of the Shilka with my Cossack attendant. As we glided along, hour after hour, the shifting scenes reminded one of some grand spectacle in a fairy tale, for bend after bend, and point after point, opened to view landscapes and vistas of surpassing beauty. Now and then we had to beware of rapids, and in one place of a sunken rock called the “Devil’s Elbow.” The depth sufficed for our boat, but we met a steamer coming up stream, whose captain had a hard task to find and keep the channel.

Between Stretinsk and Shilkinsk the left bank is fairly populated, most of the necessaries of life are easily attainable, and fish and game are abundant. Granite predominates on both banks of the river as far as the third station, Botti, beyond which limestone prevails. The cliffs become lofty, some of them about 1,000 feet, and their summits are riven into numerous picturesque turrets, while beneath are openings leading into caverns. A few miles further the valley of the Shilka opens out, and the rocks recede for a considerable distance till they reach the valley of Tchalbu-tchenskoi, down the centre of which flows the river Tchal-bu-tche.

On the space formed by the receding rocks stands Shilkinskoi Zavod, a town stretching two miles along the river on a plateau 30 feet high. This was the seat of an old convict silver-mining establishment, the working of which has ceased long since.⁠[2] The river here has a breadth of 600 yards, with a current of four knots, and in the spring a depth of seven feet on the shallows, but in the summer and autumn the depth is much less.

On the second day we came in sight of a large house on the left bank, where I landed, thinking perhaps to find some one to speak to. At the various stations I had given tracts, and, in a small way, found a ready sale for New Testaments. I offered the same at this large house, which proved to be that of a doctor, but he was not at home. His wife was in the house, but we had no language in common, and therefore my sale had to be conducted here, as at the post-houses, by dumb motions, one question about the hour being put and answered, I remember, by drawing a clock and marking the hands. Ten miles further was Ust-Kara, whence I digressed into a description of the headwaters of the Amur.

After bidding adieu to Colonel Kononovitch, on Sunday evening the 27th July, I was waiting in the house of the police-master for the arrival of the steamer. This worthy official was several degrees lower in position and intelligence than my late host, but he had a good house, and spared no pains to make me comfortable. He was living bachelor fashion, his wife and daughters having gone on a tour to Irkutsk. This he regretted, and so did I, for I was given to understand that they spoke French; and it was not particularly lively to be in a house in which you could speak a word to no one, especially with a host who would insist upon talking, whether you understood or not. One hour passed by, and two, and three, and the expected whistle was not heard, till, night having fairly set in, my host made me understand that the steamer had run aground.

It seemed best, therefore, to go to bed, hoping for its appearance in the morning. A bed was made for me on the floor of the best room in the house, but no washing apparatus provided. The maid was to be called in the morning to do the part of a Levite, and pour water on my hands. I was not, however, to retire supperless, and whilst food was being prepared the police-master begged me to try his piano. Accordingly, I strummed three tunes, which represent my stock-in-trade in this department, and my host nodded satisfaction. At supper he rattled away, and it was in vain that I shook my head and replied, “Ne govoriu po Russki” (I do not speak Russ). He returned to the charge afresh, until I was glad to retire.

Morning came, but not the steamer, and after breakfast I was writing, when it occurred to me that if the steamer were aground, it might be days or even weeks before it arrived, and at last I thought it desirable to inquire for particulars. A military officer came in, but I could extract from him no language I knew. Presently, however, the police-master brought a piece of paper that gave me hope. It was a polyglot letter to this effect: “Respected Sir, I should be glad to be allowed to teach your children French, which language I know. Your obedient servant, So-and-So.” And this was written in Russian, French, German, and English, and, as a finale, was added, “Sic transit gloria mundi.” I saw at once there was a genius in the place,—perhaps a released exile, or the wife of one, and I requested my host by signs to bring us together at once. But I think the said genius must have been away, for the police-master was holding a discussion with the officer as if there were some difficulty in the matter, when, as they were talking, the steamer’s whistle was heard.

The effect was magical. I rushed to make ready. The carriage was before the door in a very few minutes, and the police-master, who was expecting his family by the boat, was speedily with me, my baggage on the vehicle, and we dashed off to the station. Here I was introduced to the wife and family, and also to a lady who I fancy was the authoress of the polyglot paper,⁠[3] after which I embarked.

The weather was beautiful, and we steamed down the lovely Shilka 150 miles to its junction with the Argun. The first station beyond Ust-Kara was Ust-Chorney. Here the Chorney, or Black river, falls into the Shilka by two channels. This river is so rapid, and sometimes so violent, as to dash the passing boat or raft a wreck against the opposite rock-bound shore. Further on the scenery changes on the south side. Perpendicular cliffs of limestone appear with groups of birch and larch on their tops, and in the small ravines. Over these rounded summits appear, and a long chain of hills stretches southwards towards the Argun.

The next station is Gorbitza, near the mouth of the Gorbitza river. Until 1854 this was the boundary of the Russian and Chinese empires. At Bogdoi, not far distant, is a mineral spring where annually a fair was held, at which a few Russian merchants and Cossacks used to assemble to meet the Manchu who came to barter. The Manchu ascended the Amur from Aigun in large boats, bringing printed cotton goods, silk, tobacco, and Chinese brandy, which they exchanged for glassware, soap, and deer-horns.

Below Gorbitza the river enters a region where the cliffs rise considerably higher than in the limestone. Here granite is heaved up in huge masses, which time, frost, and sun have riven and shattered into curious forms. Ravines are also rent far into the mountains, and down them clear streams descend. A little further on the shores become wooded, pine-trees grow along the banks, and on the upper slopes are black and white birches, with occasional clumps of larch, while the dwarf elm grows from the clefts in the rocks.

Mineral springs are frequently met with on the banks of the Shilka. To some the natives resort. Further down are several islands, upon one of which, named “Sable” island, are pine, larch, and birch. At the river Bankova, having its source in the mining district near the Argun, and falling into the Shilka from the south, there is another place where a fair was held by the Cossacks of the Argun and the Tunguses of the Yablonoi, the latter bringing skins, deer-horns, and a few sable and fox skins. These they bartered with the Cossacks for flour, vodka, powder, and lead. Further on, and not far from the confluence of the Shilka and Argun, the Son-ghe-noi enters the Shilka to the south, and at a short distance is a lake from which the natives and Cossacks obtain their supplies of salt. A few miles below Son-ghe-noi are two islands in the Shilka, and a little beyond these the sandstone rocks rise abruptly in picturesque forms from the water. The rocks recede to the southward, and a small delta has formed extending to the mouth of the Argun. Near it is the village of Ust-Strelka,⁠[4] or Arrow mouth, situated at the junction of the two rivers which form the Amur, and here I arrived on Wednesday evening, the 30th of July.