“The independent life of this nomadic people is not without its charm. Accustomed from his infancy to privations and fatigues of every kind, the Laplander suffers little. His body acquires an extraordinary vigour, and most of our maladies are unknown to him. If during a journey a Lapland woman gives birth to a child, she places the new-born in a piece of hollow wood, where a hole has been cut out to receive the little one’s head; then slings this cradle on her back, and resumes her journey. When she halts, she suspends her wooden chrysalid to a tree, and the wire-work protects it from the teeth of ferocious beasts. The reverse of this simple medal is an old age almost inevitably very unhappy. It is said that when a Laplander has no longer the strength to render himself useful, his children abandon him by the roadside, with just provisions enough to support him for a few days. The traveller frequently encounters in the forest the skeletons of old men who have thus perished in gloomy solitude.”
The cradle to which our authority refers is described by Professor Forbes as cut out of solid wood and covered with leather, in flaps so arranged as to lace across the top with leathern thongs; the inside and the little pillow are rendered tolerably soft with reindeer moss, and the infant fits the space so exactly, that it can neither stir hand nor foot.
The Lapp hut, says Professor Forbes,[194] is formed interiorly of wood, by means of curved ribs uniting near the centre in a ring, which is open, and allows free escape for the smoke; the fire being lighted in the centre of the floor. The exterior is covered with turf. The door is of wood on one side. The inmates recline on skins on the floor, with their feet towards the fire; and behind them, on a row of stones near the wall of the hut, are their various utensils. Their clothing—chiefly of tanned skins and woollen stuffs—looked very dirty.
The Samoiedes (or Samoyedes) are scattered, to the number of about a thousand families, along the coasts of the Frozen Sea, in the government of Archangel, and, in Siberia, in the governments of Tobolsk and Tomsk. Ethnologists generally consider them to have a common origin with the Finns of Europe. In stature they are somewhat taller than the Lapps, and their colour is more of a tawny. The marked features of their countenance recall the Hindu type. The forehead is high, the hair black, the nose long, the mouth well-formed; but the sunken eye, veiled by a heavy lid, expresses a cruel and perfidious nature. The manners of the Samoiedes are brutal. In character they are wily, fierce, and cunning. They are shepherds, hunters, traders, and, when opportunity serves, robbers. They clothe themselves in reindeer-skins, like the other Hyperboreans of the old continent. They shave off their hair, except a tolerably large tuft which they allow to flourish on the top of the head, and they pluck out the beard as fast as it grows. The women adorn themselves with a belt of gilded copper, and with a profusion of ornaments in glass beads and metal. They are heathens, worshipping the sun and moon, the water and the trees; in fact, whatever object meets their eyes they convert into a deity; and, above all, they adore the bear, offering prayers and sacrifices to him before venturing on an expedition to hunt him down!
The Ostiaks and the Yakouts are established in the northernmost districts of Siberia, from the Oural Mountains to Kamtschatka. I borrow from a Polish lady, Madame Felinska, long exiled in Siberia, some curious details relative to the Ostiaks, whom, during her banishment, she had numerous opportunities of studying. Seeking one day a pathway through a wood, she encountered a couple of Ostiaks on the point of performing their religious duties. These consist in placing themselves before a tree—a larch in preference—in the wildest and densest part of the forest, and there executing a series of epileptic contortions. Such pagan demonstrations are forbidden them, says Madame Felinska; but, despite the Christianity which they have professed to accept, they are and will remain pagans.
Nearly every Ostiak carries about his person a rude image of the divinities which he adores under the name of Schaïtan; but this does not prevent him from wearing on his breast a small copper crucifix. The Schaïtan represents the human figure, carved in wood, or, rather, cut out of a small fragment of wood. It is of different sizes, according to the price and the various uses for which it is intended: if for carrying on the person, it is small; images for decorating the hut are much larger; but in every case the god is clothed in seven pearl-embroidered chemises, and suspended to the neck by a chaplet of silver coins. The wooden deity occupies the place of honour in the huts and cottages, and before commencing a repast, they take care to offer him the daintiest morsel, smearing his lips with fish or raw game; when this sacred duty is performed, they eat in contentment.
The priests of the Ostiaks are called Scha-mans; they enjoy immense influence, which they employ in furtherance of the basest superstition and in promotion of their own personal interest. Ambition and egotism dispense with knowledge and science in order to corrupt mankind.