On the slopes of the steep tundra bank and in several of the tundra valleys there is an exceedingly rich vegetation, which already, only 100 kilometres south of Yefremov Kamen, forms actual thickets of flowering plants, while the tundra itself is overgrown with an exceedingly scanty carpet, consisting more of mosses than of grasses. Salices of little height go as far north as Port Dickson (73° 30' N.L,), the dwarf birch (Betula nana, L.) is met with, though only as a bush creeping along the ground, at Cape Schaitanskoj (72° 8' N.L.); and here in 1875, on the ice-mixed soil of the tundra, we gathered ripe cloudberries. Very luxuriant alders (Alnaster fruticosus, LEDEB.) occur already at Mesenkin (71° 28' N.L.), and the Briochov Islands (70° to 71° N.L.), are in several places covered with rich and luxuriant thickets of bushes. But the limit of trees proper is considered to begin first at the great bend which the river makes in 69° 40' N.L., a little north of Dudino. Here the hills are covered with a sort of wood consisting of half-withered, grey, moss-grown larches (Larix sibirica), which seldom reach a height of more than seven to ten metres, and which much less deserve the name of trees than the luxuriant alder bushes which grow nearly 2° farther north. But some few miles south of this place, and still far north of the Arctic Circle, the pine forest becomes tall. Here begins a veritable forest, the greatest the earth has to show, extending with little interruption from the Ural to the neighbourhood of the Sea of Ochotsk, and from the fifty-eighth or fifty-ninth degree of latitude to far north of the Arctic Circle, that is to say, about one thousand kilometres from north to south, and perhaps four times as much from east to west. It is a primeval forest of enormous extent, nearly untouched by the axe of the cultivator, but at many places devastated by extensive forest fires.
On the high eastern bank of the Yenisej the forest begins immediately at the river bank. It consists principally of pines: the cembra pine (Pinus Cembra, L.), valued for its seeds, enormous larches, the nearly awl-formed Siberian pine (Pinus sibirica, LEDEB.), the fir (Pinus obovata, TURCZ.), and scattered trees of the common pine (Pinus sylvestris, L.). Most of these already north of the Arctic Circle reach a colossal size, but in such a case are often here, far from all forestry, grey and half-dried up with age. Between the trees the ground is so covered with fallen branches and stems, only some of which are fresh, the others converted into a mass of wood-mould held together only by the bark, that there one willingly avoids going forward on an unbroken path. If that must be done, the progress made is small, and there is constant danger of breaking one's bones in the labyrinth of stems. Nearly everywhere the fallen stems are covered, often concealed, by an exceedingly luxuriant bed of mosses, while on the other hand tree-lichens, probably in consequence of the dry inland climate of Siberia, occur sparingly. The pines, therefore, want the shaggy covering common in Sweden, and the bark of the birches which are seen here and there among the pines is distinguished by an uncommon blinding whiteness.
The western bank of the Yenesej consists, like the innumerable islands of the river, for the most part of lowlying and marshy stretches of land, which at the season of the spring floods are overflowed by the river and abundantly manured with its mud. In this way there is formed here a fertile tract of meadow covered partly with a grassy turf untouched by the scythe, partly with a very peculiar bush vegetation, rising to a height of eight metres, among which there are to be found a number of families of plants well known by us in Sweden, as Impatiens, Urtica, Sonchus, Heracleum, &c., but in gigantic forms unknown at home. Often a dense thicket of a willow (Salix vitellenia, L.), whose straight, branchless stems resemble at a distance the bamboo woods of the south, alternates with level, grassy carpets of a lively green and small streams in such a way as gives the whole the appearance of the most smiling park carefully kept free of fallen branches and dry grass. It is the river water which in spring has played the gardener's part in these parks, seldom trodden by the foot of man and endlessly rich in the most splendid greenery. Near the river there are also to be found carpets of a uniform green, consisting of a short kind of Equisetum, unmixed with any other plants, which forms a "gazon," to which no nobleman's country seat can show a match. The drawback is, that a stay in these regions during summer is nearly rendered impossible by the enormous number of mosquitoes with which the air is infested.
A table drawn up by Dr. Arnell, to be found in Redogörelse för de svenska expeditionerna till mynningen of Jenisej år 1876,[212] shows the distribution of the most important varieties of trees. From it we see that on the Yenesej the birch (Betula odorata, BECHST.), the fir (Pinus obovata, TURCZ.), the larch (Pinus larix, L.), and the juniper (Juniperus communis, L.), go to 69° 35' N.L. (that is to say to the latitude of Tromsoe); the sallow (Salix caprea, L.) to 68° 55'; the bird's cherry (Prunus padus, L.), and the Siberian pine (Pinus sibirica, LEDEB.), to 66° 30'; the aspen (Populus tremula, L.) to 65° 55' (the latitude of Haparanda); the pine (Pinus sylvatica, L.) to 65° 50', &c.
In the middle of the forest belt the wood appears to cover the whole land without interruption, there being, unless exceptionally, no open places. But towards the north the forest passes into the treeless tundra through bare spots occurring here and there, which gradually increase, until trees grow only in valleys and sheltered places, and finally disappear completely. Similar is the passage of the forest to treeless regions (steppes), which at first are here and there bestrewed with more or less detached groups of broad-leaved trees, until they wholly disappear, and the land forms an endless plain, out of whose fertile soil the warm summer sun calls forth a great variety of luxuriant vegetable forms, whose many-hued flowers, often large and splendid, clothe the fields with the richest splendour of colour. Here is the true homeland of many of the show-plants in the flower-gardens of Europe, as, for instance, the peony, the Siberian robinia, the blue iris, &c.
If the Siberian wooded belt forms the most extensive forest in the world, this flower-steppe forms the world's greatest cultivable field, in all probability unequalled in extent and fertility. Without manure and with an exceedingly small amount of labour expended on cultivation, man will year by year draw forth from its black soil the most abundant harvests. For the present, however, this land, with its splendid capabilities for cultivation, has an exceedingly scanty population; and this holds good in a yet higher degree of the forest belt, which is less susceptible of cultivation. At a considerable distance from the rivers it is for the most part an unknown land, where the European seldom or never sets his foot, and where only the native nomad or hunter wanders about. These forests, however, are by no means so rich in game as might be expected, perhaps because the mosquitoes in summer are unendurable by warm-blooded animals.
The main population in the forest belt consists of native nomad or hunting tribes, of which Samoyeds, Ostyaks, Tunguses, and Yakuts are the most numerous. Only along the rivers do we find Russian villages and peasant settlements, placed there for trading with the natives, for fishing, and at some places for washing gold. Not till we come to the middle of the country is the Russian population more numerous, here it spreads out in a broad belt over the whole of the immense expanse between the Ural and the Angara.
In the farthest north the Russian dwelling-places consist of single cabins built of logs or planks from broken-up lighters,[213] and having flat, turf-covered roofs. Such carvings and ornaments as are commonly found on the houses of the well-to-do Russian peasant, and whose artistic outlines indicate that the inhabitants have had time to think of something else than the satisfaction of the wants of the moment, are here completely wanting; but further south the villages are larger, and the houses finer, with raised roofs and high gables richly ornamented with wood-carvings. A church, painted in bright colours, generally shows that one of the inhabitants of the village has become rich enough to be at the expense of this ornament to his native place. The whole indicates a degree of prosperity, and the interiors of the houses, if we except the cockroaches, which swarm everywhere, are very clean. The walls are ornamented with numerous, if not very artistic, photographs and lithographs. Sacred pictures, richly ornamented, are placed in a corner, and before them hang several small oil-lamps, or small wax-lights, which are lighted on festive occasions. The sleeping place is formed of a bedstead near the roof, so large that it occupies a half or a third of the room, and at such a height from the floor that one can stand upright under it. There a tropical heat commonly prevails, the occupant of the bed accordingly enjoying an almost constant sweat-bath, which does not prevent him from going out immediately into the open air at a temperature at which mercury freezes. Food is cooked in large baking ovens, which are fired daily for that purpose, and at the same time heat the cabin. Fresh bread is baked every day, and even for the poor a large tea-urn (samovar) is an almost indispensable household article. The foreigner is certain to receive a hearty and friendly welcome when he crosses the threshold, and if he stays a short time in the cabin he will generally, whatever time of the day it be, find himself drinking a glass of tea with his host. The dress everywhere closely resembles the Russian: for the rich, wide velvet trousers stuck into the boots, a shirt showily embroidered with silver thread, and a large caftan often lined with fur; for the poor, if not too ragged, the same cut, but the cloth inferior, dirty, and torn. During winter, however, for going out of doors, the Samoyed pesk is said to be common to high and low, Russian and native, settled and nomad.
In my journey up the Yenesej in 1875 I met with only a few persons in these regions who had been exiled thither for political reasons, but on the other hand very many exiled criminals of the deepest dye—murderers, thieves, forgers, incendiaries, &c. Among them were also some few Fins and even a Swede, or at least one who, according to his own statement in broken Swedish, had formerly served in the King's Guard at Stockholm. Security of person and property was in any case complete, and it was remarkable that there did not appear to be any proper distinction of caste between the Russian-Siberian natives and those who had been exiled for crime. There appeared even to be little interest in ascertaining the crime—or, as the customary phrase appears to be here, the "misfortune"—which caused the exile. On making inquiry on this point I commonly got the answer, susceptible of many interpretations, "for bad behaviour." We found a peculiar sort of criminal colony at Selivaninskoj, a very large village situated on the eastern bank of the Yenesej in about the latitude of Aavasaksa. My journal of the expedition of 1875 contains the following notes of my visit to this colony.