The Siberian Sable-Hunter.
CHAPTER II.
It is the character of young people to engage in new enterprises with ardor: it was so with Alexis, in his fur-hunting expedition. For a time, indeed, after parting with his father and sister, his heart was heavy, and tears more than once dimmed his eyes. He expected to be absent for a year at least, and who could tell what might befall him or them, during that space of time? Such thoughts came again and again into his mind, and as fancy is apt to conjure up fears for those we love, he pictured to himself many possible evils that might beset his friends at Tobolsk.
But these images gradually faded away, and the young hunter began to be occupied with the scenes around him, and with the conversation of his companions. These consisted of two young men of nearly his own age, and their father, an experienced and skilful hunter. They were all equipped with rifles, and each had a long knife like a dagger in his belt. Their design was to travel on foot to the eastward, a distance of more than two thousand miles, and then proceed northward into the cold and woody regions which border the banks of the great river Lena, as it approaches the Arctic Ocean.
Hitherto Alexis had seen little of Siberia; his curiosity was therefore alive, and he noticed attentively everything he met. Soon after leaving Tobolsk, the party entered upon the vast plain of Baraba, which spreads out to an extent of several hundred miles. It is almost as level as the sea, with slight swells, resembling waves. Such plains are called steppes in Siberia, and they are like the prairies of our western country, being generally destitute of trees, except low willows, and large portions having a marshy soil. Upon this plain the travellers met with no towns, but miserable villages of people, their huts half sunk in the mud. They also sometimes encountered small bands of people called Ostiacks. These seemed to be roving people, and in a state of barbarism. The old hunter of the party, whose name was Linsk, seemed to be well acquainted with the habits of these people, and as the four hunters were trudging along, he gave the following account of them, taking care to say something of himself in the course of his story.
“The Ostiacks are one of the most numerous of the tribes of Tartars that inhabit Siberia. They spread over the country to the north of Tobolsk, along the banks of the Obi, and the various streams that flow into it. They do not like to dig the soil, so they live on fish, and by hunting wild animals. Some of them eat so much fish, that they smell like whale oil. I have been in their tents often, and one of these fisheating families have a flavor as strong as a cask of herrings. Bah! how well I remember them! It seems as if I could smell them now! I shall never get them out of my head.
“You must know that I have been a hunter for twenty-five years, and I have made several expeditions into the north country, where the Ostiacks chiefly dwell. It is a cold and desolate region; no trees but pines and willows grow there; there is no grass, and very few shrubs. Still, it was once a good country for furs; but they are nearly gone now, and I don’t wonder at it, for these Ostiacks are such heathens. They are not Christians, but believe in little wooden images, which they will place on their tables, and lay around them snuff, willow bark, fish oil, and other things which they deem valuable. Having done this, they call upon these images, which are their gods, to make them lucky in fishing and hunting. If the gods don’t send them good luck, then these foolish people do give them such a banging! They cuff their heads, and knock them off the tables, and switch them as if they were so many naughty school-boys.
“Now, for my part, I wonder that fish, or sables, or bears, or any other creatures that are useful, will stay in a country where such stupid people live. And then you must know that the Ostiacks almost worship a bear. They think that this creature is a kind of a witch or wicked god, and such horrid notions of it have they, that, when they take the oath of allegiance to the Russian government, they say, to make it very strong—‘We hope we may be devoured by bears, if we do not keep this oath.’
“Beside all this, the Ostiacks, as you see by those whom we have met, are little short people, not more than five feet high. A great many of the women are fat, and such little round dumplings I never beheld! The hair of these people is of a reddish color, and floats down their shoulders. Their faces are flat, and altogether they look like animals, rather than human creatures. Their houses are made of poles, set up in a circle, and thatched with bark. In winter, the windows are covered with expanded bladders. The fire is made on one side of the room, and the smoke circulates above, finding its way out as it can. Generally, there is but one room in a hut, and all the family are tumbled into it, by night and by day.
“Now all this shows what stupid people these Ostiacks are; but there is one thing I have to say in their praise. They understand fishing and hunting. In chasing the bears, they show courage and skill, and in taking the sable so as not to break his skin, they display true genius. I once knew an old Ostiack that was nearly equal to myself in hunting. He could see the track of an ermine, marten, or sable, upon the snow-crust, when nobody else could; he would follow one of these creatures for a whole day, pretending he could see the foot-prints; but I believe the old fellow could smell like a dog. What beautiful sables and grey foxes he did get! He once got two sable skins which were sent to St. Petersburgh, and sold for three hundred dollars. The emperor bought them himself, and sent the old fellow a knife ornamented with a silver plate, and the word “Nicholas” engraved upon it. This the emperor said was to encourage the hunter to get fine furs. But the old hunter died soon after, and the people said it was from mere pride, because the emperor had paid him so much honor. He never hunted any more, but strutted about, brandishing his knife in the air, and saying, ‘Behold! this is what Nicholas, the Czar of all the Russias, has sent to Dwaff Khizan, the greatest hunter of Siberia!’”
Alexis listened with interest to this long account of the Ostiacks by old Linsk: but his heart really palpitated when the hunter told of the rich sable furs sent to St. Petersburgh by Dwaff Khizan, and which not only brought a great price, but won the favor of the emperor. He immediately remembered the injunction of his sister Kathinka, to be particular and get rich sable furs; and he also remembered that she had spoken of sending them to the princess Lodoiska. “After all my thinking that the girl was romantic and conceited, to fancy that she could send furs to a princess, and attract her attention, now that we are poor exiles in Siberia, perhaps she is right, and has more sense then I have. At all events, I will exert myself to procure some sable furs finer than were ever seen before. We are going to the coldest portions of Siberia, and there it is said are the most splendid furs in the world. It will be something to please Kathinka, and to relieve my father from his poverty; and, beside, I should like to beat old Linsk, vain and boastful as he is!”
With this ambitious conclusion, Alexis stepped quicker and prouder over the level road, and, without thinking of it, had soon advanced considerably before his party. Coming to a place where the road divided, he took that which led to the right, as it seemed the best. He had not gone far, however, before he heard the loud call of Linsk. Stopping till the party came up, Alexis found that he had taken the wrong path. “That road,” said Linsk, “leads to the great town of Tomsk; a place which has ten thousand people in it, and I may add that one half of them are drunkards. This is the more wonderful, for the people have enough to do; because the country in that quarter abounds in valuable mines. All around Tomsk there are salt lakes, and the waters are so impregnated with minerals, that the bottoms are covered with a coat as white as snow.
“To the south of Tomsk, a great many miles, are some mountains, called the Altai range. In these mountains there are mines of gold and silver, and of platina, a metal more costly than gold. The mines are wrought by exiles; and, master Alexis, some of your countrymen are there, as they ought to be. You ought to thank the clemency and mercy of the emperor, for not sending you and your father there!”
“Stop! stop! old man!” said Alexis; “say no more of that! say no more of that! My father ought to be sent to the mines! for what? For risking his life to save his country? For giving his wealth to Poland? For shedding his blood for liberty? Is patriotism then a crime? Shame on the emperor who makes it so!”
“Tut, tut, tut, tut!” said Linsk, with an air of authority; “why, you talk rebellion, as if you had drank it in with your mother’s milk. Oh dear! oh dear! what are we all coming to, when youngsters talk such pestilent stuff about liberty and patriotism? Why, what have we to do with liberty and patriotism? Let us take care to obey the emperor, and his officers, and those who are in authority, and do as the priests tell us: that’s all we have to do. But never mind, boy; I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. So don’t think any more of what I said about your father and the mines. I believe he’s an honest and noble gentleman, though I am sorry he’s so much misled. Liberty and patriotism—indeed! Bah! When I hear about liberty and patriotism, I always look well to my pockets, for they sound to my ear very much like roguery and mischief. Liberty and patriotism, forsooth! as if we common men were like wild animals, and, as soon as we are of age, had a right to set up for ourselves! No! no! we are Christians, and it is our duty to honor the emperor; we are his subjects, and he may do as he pleases with us. God bless him.”
“I suppose it would be glory enough,” said Alexis, having recovered his good humor, “to have our heads cut off, provided it was done by command of the emperor.”
“Certainly,” said Linsk, not discovering the irony; and here the conversation took another turn.
“You were speaking of the mines,” said Alexis. “Do they produce great quantities of the precious metals?”
“Yes,” said the old hunter, in reply. “The mines produce the value of more than ten millions of dollars a year. Not only do they yield gold, and silver, and platina, but a great deal of copper. Beside these, many precious stones are found, such as the topaz, beryl, onyx, garnets, diamonds, and green crystals as beautiful as emeralds. All these mines and all the minerals belong to the Czar, and they are wrought by his serfs and slaves, and by such exiles as are very bad and troublesome!”
“Those who talk about liberty and patriotism, I suppose,” said Alexis.
“Yes,” said Linsk, snappishly.
“Well,” said Alexis, “I should like to go to that country, where there are such rich minerals and precious stones. I think I could pick up enough to make myself rich.”
“And get your head taken off besides,” said Linsk. “Let me tell you, my young master, the metals and minerals belong to the emperor, and it’s stealing for anybody to take them, and whoever does so is sure to get punished. I know a story about that—”
“Tell it, I beg you,” said Alexis. So the hunter proceeded.
“There was once a young nobleman of Russia exiled to Siberia for some offence to the Czar. This happened in the time of Paul, near forty years ago. Well, when he came to Tobolsk, he was very poor, so he thought how he might get money and become rich. At last he heard of the mines of the mountains, and thither he went. He was careful, however, not to let anybody know his plan. He proceeded first to the Kolyvan mountains, but, as there were a great many people at work there, he was afraid of being detected in his scheme; so he proceeded farther east, until he came to a tall mountain called the Schlangenberg, which is the loftiest of the Altai range.
“When he had got up to the very top of the mountain, being weary, he laid himself down to get some rest, and here he fell asleep. While in this state, a man, in the dress of a Tartar, seemed to stand before him, and, making a low bow in the Eastern fashion, said, ‘What would’st thou, son of a noble house?’ To this the young Russian replied—‘Wealth—give me wealth: with this I can purchase my liberty and return to Moscow, and live again in happiness. Give me riches: with these I could buy the very soul of the emperor, for all he desires is money.’
“When the young man said this, the image smiled on one side of his face, and frowned on the other; but he answered fairly,—‘Your wish shall be granted: follow me!’ Upon this the Russian arose and followed the mysterious stranger. They descended to the foot of the mountain, and entered a cave which was formed by nature in the rocks. It was at first a dark and gloomy room, with grizzly images around, and a fearful roar as of mighty waterfalls, tumbling amid the gashes and ravines of the mountain. But as they advanced farther, the scene gradually changed. The darkness disappeared, and at last they came to a vast chamber, which seemed glittering with thousands of lamps. The room appeared indeed like a forest turned to crystal, the branches above uniting and forming a lofty roof, in the gothic form. Nothing could exceed the splendor of the scene. The floor was strewn with precious stones of every hue, and diamonds of immense size and beauty glistened around. As the adventurer trod among them, they clashed against his feet as if he was marching amid heaps of pebbles. There were thousands of lofty columns, of a pearly transparency, which seemed to send forth an illumination like that of the moon; and these were studded with garnets, and emeralds, and rubies.
“The Russian was delighted—nay, entranced. He walked along for more than an hour, and still the vast room seemed to expand and grow more gorgeous as he proceeded. The diamonds were larger, and the light more lovely, and by-and-by there came a sound of music. It was faint, but delicious; and our hero looked around for the cause of it. At last he saw what seemed a river, and on going to the border of it, he discovered that it was a stream of precious stones, where garnets, and beryls, and diamonds, and emeralds, and rubies, flowed like drops of water, in one gushing, flashing current; and as they swept along, a sort of gentle but entrancing melody stole out from them, and seemed to melt the heart with their tones.
“‘This is indeed most lovely—most enchanting!’ said the youth to himself. ‘Well and truly has my guide performed his promise.’ Saying this, he looked around for his guide, but he had disappeared. The young man waited for a time, but his guide did not return. At last he began to feel weary, and cast about for a place to lie down; but no such place appeared. The floor of the mighty hall was covered with precious stones, but they were so sharp and angular that they would have cut his flesh, if he had attempted to lie upon them. Pretty soon, hunger was added to the young man’s wants. But how could he satisfy it? There were emeralds, and rubies, and sapphires, and diamonds, but neither meat nor bread. At last he turned around, and began to search for the way out of the grotto; first filling his pockets with the richest and rarest gems he could find. But the more he sought for the passage, the more remote he seemed to be from it. He, however, continued to wander on, but all in vain. At last he became frantic; he threw up his hands, and tore his hair, and ran fiercely from place to place, making the arches ring with his frightful screams. ‘Take your gold, take your jewels!’ said he; ‘and give me rest, give me bread!’ And, repeating this by night and by day, the young man continued to run wildly from place to place; and though forty years have rolled away since he entered the enchanted cave, he is still there, and is still unable to obtain rest or appease his hunger!”
“Is that all?” said Alexis, as the hunter paused in his narration. “Yes,” said Linsk; “and let it warn you and all others not to go into the mountain, to steal the gems and the gold that belong to the emperor.”
“The story is a good one,” said Alexis, “and no doubt it has been used to frighten people from interfering with the emperor’s mines; but it is an allegory, which bears a deeper meaning to my mind. It teaches us that riches cannot bring rest or health, and that a person surrounded with gold and gems may still be a most wretched being. Those very gems, indeed, may be the cause of his distress, as they may have been obtained by crime, or avarice, or other unlawful means.”
(To be continued.)
