The Polar World / A popular description of man and nature in the Arctic and Antarctic regions of the globe

by G. Hartwig

The Cossacks, in virtue of their descent from the original conquerors of the country, enjoy the enviable privilege of being tax free; they are, however, obliged to render military service when required. They form the small garrison of Nishne-Kolymsk, and every year twenty-five of them repair to the fair of Ostrownoje, to keep the wild Tchuktchi in check. The Russians are chiefly the descendants of fur-hunters or of exiles; and though they have adopted the native clothing and mode of life, they are still distinguishable by their more muscular frame. The women, who are somewhat better-looking than the female Jakuts and Jukahires, are fond of music, and their traditional songs dwell on the beauties of nature—the rustling brook, the flowery mead, the nightingale’s note—all things belonging to a world of which they have no idea.

The dwellings of the Russians are hardly to be distinguished from the yourts of the native tribes. They are made of drift-wood, and, as may easily be imagined, are very small and low. The interstices are carefully stopped up with moss, and the outside is covered with a thick layer of clay. An external mud wall rises to the height of the roof to keep off the wind. In a hut like this Wrangell spent many a winter month, but when the cold was very intense, he was not able to lay aside any part of his fur clothing, though sitting close to a large fire. When he wanted to write he had to keep the inkstand in hot water; and at night, when the fire was allowed to go out for a short time, his bedclothes were always covered with a thick snow-like rime.

The existence of the people of Kolymsk depends upon fishing and hunting, in which they are assisted by their dogs. These faithful, but cruelly-treated animals, are said to resemble the wolf, having long, pointed, projecting noses, sharp and upright ears, and long bushy tails. Their color is black, brown, reddish-brown, white, and spotted, their howling that of a wolf. In summer they dig holes in the ground for coolness, or lie in the water to escape the mosquitoes; in winter they burrow in the snow, and lie curled up, with their noses covered with their bushy tails. The preparation of these animals for a journey must be carefully attended to; for a fortnight at least they should be put on a small allowance of hard food, to convert their superfluous fat into firm flesh; they must also be driven from ten to twenty miles daily, after which they have been known to travel a hundred miles a day without being injured by it. A team consists commonly of twelve dogs, and it is of importance that they should be accustomed to draw together. The quick and steady going of the team, as well as the safety of the traveller, mainly depends on the docility and sagacity of the foremost dog or leader. No pains are therefore spared in his education, so that he may understand and obey his master’s orders, and prevent the rest from starting off in pursuit of the stone-foxes or other animals that may chance to cross their path. Their usual food is frozen fish, and ten good herrings are said to be a proper daily allowance for each dog while on duty. When not actively employed, they are obliged to content themselves with offal, and towards spring, when the winter’s provisions are generally exhausted, they suffer the keenest hunger.

This season is also a hard time for the wandering tribes of the neighborhood. Then they flock to Nishne-Kolymsk, and to the other Russian settlements on the Kolyma, but here also famine stares them in the face. There is, indeed, a public corn magazine, but the price of flour is raised by the cost of transport to such an exorbitant height, as to be completely beyond the reach of the majority of the people. Three such dreadful springs did Wrangell pass at Kolymsk, witnessing scenes of misery never to be forgotten.

But when the distress of the people has reached its highest point, relief is generally at hand. Troops of migratory birds come from the south, and furnish some food for the despairing population. The supply is increased in June, when the ice breaks on the Kolyma, for in spite of the faultiness of the nets and the want of skill of the fishermen, the river is the principal source of plenty during the summer, and supplies, moreover, the chief provisions for the following winter. But with these gifts the Kolyma brings the plague of inundations, so that during the summer of 1822 Wrangell was obliged to spend a whole week on the flat roof of his hut.

The chief resource of the Jukahires of the River Aniuj is the reindeer chase, the success of which mainly decides whether famine or some degree of comfort is to be their lot during the coming winter. The passage of the reindeer takes place twice a year; in spring, when the mosquitoes compel them to seek the sea-shore, where they feed on the moss of the tundra, and in autumn, when the increasing cold forces them to retire from the coast. The spring migration, which begins about the middle of May, is not very profitable, partly because the animals are meagre, and their furs in bad condition, and partly because it is more difficult to kill them as they pass the frozen rivers. The chief hunting is in August and September, when the herds, consisting each of several thousand deer, return to the forests. They invariably cross the river at a particular spot, where a flat sandy bank makes their landing easier; and here they press more closely together, under the guidance of the strongest animals of the herd.

The passage takes place after some hesitation, and in a few minutes the river is covered with swimming reindeer. The hunters, hidden in creeks or behind stones and bushes, now shoot forth in their small boats and wound as many as they can. While they are thus busy, they run some risk of being overturned in the turmoil, for the bucks defend themselves with their horns, their teeth, and their hind legs, while the roes generally attempt to spring with their fore feet upon the edge of the boat. When the hunter is thus overset, his only chance of safety is to cling to a strong animal, which safely brings him to the shore. But the dexterity of the hunters renders such accidents rare. A good hunter will kill a hundred reindeer and more in half an hour. In the mean time the other boats seize the killed animals, which become their property, while those that are merely wounded and swim ashore belong to the hunters, who, in the midst of the tumult, where all their energies are taxed to the utmost, direct their strokes in such a manner as only severely to wound the larger animals. The noise of the horns striking against each other, the waters tinged with blood, the cries of the hunters, the snorting of the affrighted animals, form a scene not to be described.

The people of the Aniuj were already suffering great distress when, on September 12, 1821, the eagerly-expected reindeer herds made their appearance on the right bank of the river. Never had such a multitude been seen; they covered the hills, and their horns might have been mistaken at a distance for a moving forest. In a short time numbers of the Siberian tribes had assembled, ready to destroy them. But the wary animals, alarmed by some circumstance or other, took another road, and, leaving the banks of the river, vanished on the mountains. The despair of the people may be imagined; some lamented aloud and wrung their hands, others threw themselves upon the ground and scratched up the snow, others stood motionless like statues—a dreadful image of the universal misery. The later fishing-season likewise failed in this deplorable year, and many hundreds died in the following winter.

While the men of Kolymsk are busily employed during the short summer in hunting, fishing, and hay-making, the women wander over the country, particularly in the mountains, to gather edible roots, aromatic herbs, and berries of various kinds, which latter, however, do not every year arrive at maturity. The berry-gathering here, like the vintage elsewhere, is a time of merriment. The younger women and girls go together in large parties, passing whole days and nights in the open air. When the berries are collected, cold water is poured over them, and they are preserved in a frozen state for a winter treat. Social parties are not unknown at Kolymsk, and are perhaps not less entertaining than in more refined communities. Floods of weak tea (for the aromatic leaves “which cheer, but not inebriate,” are very dear at Kolymsk) form the staple of the entertainment; and as sugar is also an expensive article, every guest takes a lump of candy in his mouth, lets the tea which he sips flow by, and then replaces it upon the saucer. It would be considered very unmannerly were he to consume the whole piece, which thus is able to do duty at more than one soirée. Next to tea, brandy is a chief requisite of a Kolymsk party.

The busiest time at Kolymsk is in February, when the caravan from Jakutsk arrives on its way to the fair of Ostrownoje. It consists of about twenty merchants, each of whom leads from ten to forty sumpter horses. This is the time not only for sale and purchase, but also for hearing the last news from the provincial capital Jakutsk, and receiving intelligence six months old from Moscow and St. Petersburg.