About three o’clock in the afternoon we arrived at the cross of Yudoma[70]. On an eminence, secure from the overflowings of this river, which extends its impetuous waves to a great distance, are a number of magazines guarded by four soldiers, and which serve them as an asylum when their common habitations by the side of the Yudoma are flooded: these soldiers practice also the business of watermen, and are at the service of travellers.
Upon seeing my passport they submitted themselves entirely to my disposal. Unfortunately all their boats were in a condition the most wretched that can be imagined, and we had neither materials nor workmen to refit them. Those who had been sent from Okotsk were not likely to arrive soon, and I was impatient to embark[71] in order to sail down the rivers Yudoma, Maya, and Aldann. Among these soldiers, one only had ever made this voyage, and nine years having since elapsed, he had totally forgotten the course. I was advised not to try him, unless all the others refused.
My only resource therefore was Nedarezoff, who had attended me in order to serve as pilot; but what a pilot! He had once, twelve years ago, been upon this river, and all he remembered was, that he was three years in going from Yakoutsk to Okotsk. He conducted at that time a considerable convoy of timber, anchors, cordage, and other materials for fitting out an armament.
Of the four boats that were on the strand, I chose the best and the narrowest, which was twelve feet long by six wide[72]. On examining it, I found that it must be caulked, tarred, and have an additional plank at the head to enable it to resist the force of the waves. With two boards, and some nails from an old boat, one of the soldiers, who understood a little the trade of a carpenter, effected the latter part of the business, but we wanted every material for the other repairs. We ransacked the magazines to no purpose, and during the whole night I ceased not to puzzle my brain in order to invent some expedient.
At break of day, as I was going to visit the workmen, I trod on an old and large cord that lay on the bank. Elate with my good fortune, I carried it to my soldiers; instantly it was cut to pieces, and unravelled; we had thus a supply of tow, and the three most important leaks were stopped. The difficulty was to fasten and keep in the tow; my workmen proposed to me to cover the chinks with laths, but we had no nails of any sort. Necessity is the mother of invention. With a wimble, which was the only tool we had, we made holes round the leaky places; some small cord, which I found in my baggage, being passed through them, and the holes afterwards filled up with pegs, the laths were so firmly fastened as to prevent the water from penetrating the boat. At three o’clock in the afternoon our repairs were completed, the helm fixed, and the oars adjusted; and I ordered my people to be ready by the next morning.
When we were just on the point of setting off, a caravan of Yakoutsk merchants appeared; they were going to Okotsk, and I entreated M. Allegretti to embrace the opportunity of accompanying them. Our separation took place at nine o’clock. On leaving him, all the services he had rendered me, and the proofs of attachment he had evinced, presented themselves to my view, and made an impression on my heart.
I engaged two of the soldiers to row me, one of whom was the man that had before made this voyage; Nedarezoff was at the helm; and Golikoff and I were to relieve him when he should be tired. The rapidity of the current carried us on with such violence, that we could easily dispense with the oars. At the rate we sailed my soldiers had no doubt that we should reach the famous cataract before night, which was more than eighty wersts from the place of our departure. Their conversation turned solely upon the dangers we should have to encounter. Though I was already prepossessed with the idea of their inexperience, by continually hearing these discourses, dictated by fear, I began at last to be alarmed myself, and resolved to act with all possible prudence, that I might have no reason to reproach myself. I frequently went on shore, and walked along the river to see how far the navigation was safe. Towards the evening a west north-west wind, brought on rain. Rather than run any risk in such bad weather I halted, and ordered my tent to be pitched over the boat.
The next day, after four hours navigation, interrupted by frequent landings to observe the approach of the cataract, we at last perceived it. Accompanied by my two pilots, I went to examine the spot. At a short distance from it I saw a little stony island, which is only perceptible when the waters begin to fall. My soldiers advised me to pass, if the waters were sufficiently high, by the way of a canal which we should find at the right; though the descent was very rapid, they assured me that it was nothing in comparison with that of the cataract. This advice engrossed my whole attention, and having convinced myself of its utility, I returned to the boat, resolved to put it in practice. I encouraged my people in the best manner I could, and then took the helm. Nedarezoff sat by me, and Golikoff assisted one of the rowers, for we had only two oars. We proceeded in this manner till we reached the conflux of the two streams, one of which led to the canal, and the other lost itself in the cataract. The impetuosity of the latter would have drawn us into the abyss, but for the skill and strength of my rowers. The instant the signal is given, their nervous arms are stretched to strike the oar, and to struggle against the waves; the waters rage and foam, and the violent shocks they give to our boat, my unceasing exhortations, and more than all the fear of being destroyed, redouble the ardour of my soldiers. We are at length extricated from the treacherous current, and enter into the canal. How smooth did its waters appear after this terrifying passage! To give my people rest, I abandoned myself to the gentle declivity of the stream: the helm was sufficient to direct the boat.
When we were at the foot of the cataract, curiosity led me to turn my head. I trembled at its dreadful aspect, and thanked heaven for having afforded me a different way. Nine boats out of ten that should attempt this passage, would infallibly be wrecked:—the reader shall judge.
What must be the fate of so small and feeble a float, if, in defiance of danger, it should be permitted to follow the course of the torrent? In its precipitate descent, I see it the sport of the waves that roll one upon another, and fall with a deafening noise from a height of twenty feet upon three enormous rocks concealed by the foam, and over which it must necessarily pass. Without a miracle, how should it avoid sinking, or escape the being dashed to pieces? Meanwhile, when the water is so low as to render the canal not navigable, there is no other way left. My guides informed me that the boats were always unladed before the risk was attempted, and that this was all the precaution that was taken, and all the skill that could be displayed by the pilots. These cataracts are called porog.