The Siberian Sable-Hunter.
CHAPTER III.
For several days the adventurers continued their journey, without encountering anything worthy of being recorded. It is true that an hour seldom passed in which thoughts, feelings, or incidents, did not occur to Alexis, of some interest; and if we could transfer them here with the same vividness that they touched his mind and heart, it would be well to put them down. But, after all, the pen can give but a poor idea of what is going on in the brain and bosom of a lively and sanguine youth, separated from home and going forth to hunt sables in the wilds of Siberia.
In about three weeks after their departure, the travellers reached Yeniseisk, a considerable place, situated on the Yenisei. The town is built chiefly of wood, the houses being low. Leaving this place, they proceeded in a northeasterly direction, usually travelling about twenty-five miles a day.
It was now the month of September, and already the weather began to grow severe, and the snow to fall. The country also became more and more desolate, and the inhabitants were more scattered. They met with no villages, and frequently travelled a whole day without seeing a single human habitation. There were extensive marshy plains, upon which a few groups of stunted willows were to be seen; but this was almost the only vegetation that the soil produced.
The journey was not only uninteresting and depressing, but it was, in some
respects, laborious and severe. Old Linsk, however, kept up the spirits of the party by his incessant prattle; and, as he had seen a good deal of life and possessed a retentive memory, he not only enlivened his companions, but he communicated a large amount of useful information. It is true that all his opinions were not just or wise, but among some chaff there was a good deal of wheat.
After crossing the river Yenisei, and leaving the town of Yeniseisk, he had a good deal to say about these things, particularly the former. “I once went down that river,” said he, “entered the Arctic Ocean, passed into the sea of Obi, and up the river Obi to Tobolsk. The whole distance was more than twenty-five hundred miles, and we were gone four months.
“The purpose of our trip was to get elephants’ teeth, which are found on the banks of the rivers, and along the shores of the Arctic sea. There are no elephants living in these regions now, nor are there any in all Siberia; the country is so cold that these creatures cannot dwell there. It appears that Siberia must have had a warmer climate once than it has now, for not only do we find elephants’ bones, but those of the buffalo, and other animals, which can only subsist in warm countries. It was interesting to see the bones of buffaloes and elephants along the shore of the ocean; but teeth were scarce; for, cold and desolate as the country is, many people had been there before us, and gathered up most of them. We made out pretty well, however; for we entered the forests as winter approached, and shot some bears, and sables, and ermines; and what we lacked in elephants’ teeth we made up in furs. Beside what we gained in the way of trade, I got a good deal of information and enjoyed some fun; my plan being to make the best of everything.
“Along the banks of the Yenisei, the inhabitants are Ostiacks, and are chiefly fishermen; and a sad set they are. I don’t know how it happens, but it seems to me that those who live on fish have the most thirsty throats of any persons in the world. All the people were addicted to drinking brandy, and never did I see so much drunkenness and riot. It is bad enough all over Siberia; the people generally believe in evil spirits, but brandy is the worst of them all. The man that invented brandy has done more mischief to the human race than it is possible to conceive; and those who contrive to sell it and diffuse it, are only aiding in brutifying the human species. But it is a thrifty trade, and many rich men are engaged in it. They flourish in this world; and so did the rich man we read of in Scripture; but he did not fare very well in another world. I can’t say how it was, but I have always thought that Dives was a brandy dealer, and that was the reason he was so tormented.”
“This is very strange,” said Alexis, “for you drink brandy yourself, Linsk.”
“That’s all true,” was the reply. “I can’t help it. I’ve got into the habit of it, and I can’t get out of it. It’s one of the worst parts of the story, that when brandy has got its clutches upon you, you can’t pull them off. It’s with brandy as with the evil spirit—when you’ve once made a bargain with him, you must go through with it. So it is with those Ostiacks along the Yenisei; they whip their wooden gods because they don’t send them good luck in hunting and fishing; but they should whip their own backs, for if they fail in anything, it is generally because they get drunk, and are incapable of using their skill and strength to advantage. They know that brandy is at the bottom of all the mischief, but still they drink, and lay all to the gods that they do not like to impute to themselves.
“To the north of the Ostiacks are the Samoides, who live along the shore of the Arctic Ocean the whole extent of Siberia. They are few in number, for the country is so cold and barren, that it is impossible they should greatly increase. They are very short, and I believe are the smallest people in the world. They eat a great deal of fish, and, what is very odd, they seem to like it best when it is a little tainted. They have many reindeer, and in the autumn hunt white foxes, with the skins of which they buy brandy.
“The country inhabited by the Samoides is the most cold and dreary that can be imagined. The snow lasts for nine months of the year; the storms are almost incessant for a great part of the time, and in winter the cold is so intense as to freeze brandy, though the people contrive to thaw it again. But the most wonderful thing is this: the sun sets in November, and does not rise again till the next May; so the night is six months long! The moon, however, shines a great part of the time, and it is never dark during that period. The northern lights, sometimes called aurora borealis, are very brilliant, and it is easy to read by them. The Samoides, however, have no books; they spend most of their time in winter in sitting in their huts and telling long stories. I will tell you one, which an old fisherman said he had heard repeated in one of their dwellings while he was staying with them.
“There was once upon a time an old Samoide fisherman that had the most beautiful daughter that ever was seen. She was very short and very fat, and her skin shone like blubber oil; her eyes were small and black; her teeth were large, and of a beautiful yellow hue. Her hair, also, was yellow, and being matted together, hung down in a thick mass upon her shoulders.
“This fair girl was of an olive color, and such were her charms that all the young men who saw her fell desperately in love with her, save one. This latter was a fisherman, and famous for his skill in every species of adventurous sport. He was very dexterous in spearing the seal and sea otter, in managing the seal-skin boat, and in driving the reindeer sledge over the snow.
“Now, although the beautiful lady, whose name was Lis, enslaved all others, this hero of the fishhook and spear set her charms at nought; and, as the fates are very whimsical, the beautiful girl, disdaining the addresses of all besides, became desperately enamored of him. She took every opportunity in her power to please and fascinate him, but all to no purpose. Loord, for that was the name of the fisherman, resisted her advances, and in fact treated her with marked neglect, if not disdain.
“This appeared very wonderful to everybody, and especially to Lis, who made up her mind that some evil-minded spirit had bewitched Loord, and thus enabled and disposed him to resist her charms. She therefore determined to go to an island at some distance in the ocean, where she had an uncle living, and, under pretence of visiting him, to consult a famous sorcerer, or magician, who dwelt there, and, if possible, to obtain his counsel in the matter.
“Now Lis was well skilled in the arts of managing a boat; so she determined to go alone. She got into a boat made of seal-skins, and set forth upon the sea, having bade her friends farewell, who were at the landing to take leave of her. It was expected that she would return the next day—but she came not; the second day, the third, and the fourth, passed away, but the beautiful Lis did not return. At length some anxiety existed among her friends as to her welfare, and even the interest of Loord was roused. He determined to set forth in search of her; and that very day, entering his seal-skin boat, he departed for the magician’s island.
“It is important to observe that, previous to starting, Loord, who generally avoided brandy, took a large draught, by the advice of an aged fisherman, not so much to exclude the cold as to keep out witchcraft.
“Things went pretty well with Loord in the first part of his voyage, but after a while, according to his account of the matter on his return, as he began to approach the magician’s island, he caught a glimpse of it, but it was bobbing up and down like a porpoise before a squall. He kept his eye upon it steadily for some time, when at last it sunk, and did not rise again. Loord used all his strength to reach the place, and finally came to it, and the water was whirling and boiling round; but not a bit of an island was to be seen. Loord sailed over and over the place, and waited a long time to see if he could not pick up somebody, and particularly the beautiful Lis, but he found no one.
“Loord at last returned; he had been gone all day, and it was late at night when he reached his home. He was in a bewildered state, but told his story as I have related it. It was intimated to him that perhaps the brandy got into his head, and that the island’s being sunk was all a mistake; but he laughed at the idea. In a few days, however, a boat came from the magician’s isle, and behold the beautiful Lis was in it, as well and as charming as ever. Her friends came to see her, and her lovers returned, and all congratulated her upon her good looks, and upon her escape from being carried to the bottom of the sea with the magician’s island. This made her stare, upon which they told her the adventure of Loord.
“It being now ascertained that the island of the magician was still standing in its place, Loord became an object of general ridicule; and as he was no longer a hero in the estimation of the people, Lis began to think she could live without him. Accordingly, when she met him she tossed up her head, and passed him by with disdain. This brought Loord to his senses, and he began to see that Lis was very beautiful, and pretty soon he found out that he could not live without her. So he wooed her, but at first she would not listen to him; after a great deal of teazing, however, she consented, and they were married; but ever after, if anything went wrong, Lis would jeer him about the magician’s island, that bobbed up and down like a porpoise before a storm, and at last went down to the bottom! This would always bring Loord to terms; and, in short, by means of this affair, Lis not only got her husband, but she used the story ever after to manage him; for it gave her a power over him like that of a strong bit in the mouth of a headstrong horse.
“Nor was this all. The people in those parts found out that Lis went to the island to consult the magician, and they imputed Loord’s conduct entirely to his interference in behalf of the beautiful girl. But the only real magician in the case was the brandy, for Lis did not find the magician at home; and, though she waited some days, she did not see him. However, when people are superstitious common things always grow mighty wonderful in their eyes. Superstition is like a pair of spectacles that I heard of once; they happened to have a musquito on one of the glasses when the owner put them on; so he thought he saw a flying bear skipping over the distant hills, when it was only the musquito upon his spectacles!”