All this shocking achievement of Russian officialdom, either directly or indirectly authorised, of course went unpunished. But no! I must let the exact truth have its way. General Gribsky held a judicial inquiry into the conduct of his subordinates (who had carried out his own orders), and the Russian newspapers shortly afterwards informed their readers that “the chief of police in Blagovèstshensk had been sentenced to three months’ imprisonment”—for the drowning, shooting, or stabbing of from ten to fifteen thousand helpless and inoffensive Chinese!
CHAPTER XXXIV
MY FLIGHT FROM SIBERIA—THE END OF MY JOURNEY ROUND THE WORLD—MY FRIEND AXELROD AGAIN—CONCLUSION
The terrible events that had happened in the town, and the death of our unhappy fellow-citizens, could not but leave an indelible impression on many people’s minds, my own included. Blagovèstshensk had become so detestable to us that many left the place as soon as things were quiet again. Unfortunately I could not follow their example at once; but I determined on the first opportunity to transfer myself to the Far East, in which I had long been interested. I intended to settle in the busy commercial town of Vladivostock, and there patiently await the time when I might be free to return home. Before that time could arrive five or six years had still to pass; but the nearer the time came, the more irrepressible grew the desire to quit Siberia, and the thought of flight recurred again and again. Nevertheless doubts also arose whether it were worth while to jeopardise the freedom, however limited, that I had won by my sixteen years of prison and exile. If my attempt failed, I should have rendered myself liable to all the rigour of the law; and I was no longer of an age to bear suffering and privations as in youth, for I was now well past my fortieth year.
Thus did I hesitate backward and forward until the spring of 1901, when various personal reasons made me come to a definite decision, which resulted in my burning the bridge behind me, as the saying goes. I resolved to escape as soon as the Amur was open for travelling again.
Circumstances favoured my project; a kind friend who had a large connection throughout the country promised his aid, and the following plan seemed the easiest of execution. I was to leave Blagovèstshensk unobserved, going first to Habarovsk and thence to Vladivostock, where I must take my passage on a foreign vessel bound for Japan; and this I succeeded in carrying through, with the help of the friend above mentioned.
It need hardly be said that I cannot give all the details of my flight from Siberia, where I was under strict police supervision; for I must not compromise those who assisted me. As I went on board the steamboat that was leaving for Habarovsk, (of course, taking no luggage with me,) there suddenly appeared the deputy-prìstav to whose district I belonged. Of course, at the first moment I thought my plans had been discovered, and I was not a little alarmed; but I was soon satisfied that the official had merely come to take leave of some friends who were travelling by the same boat. It evidently never entered his head that I was taking my departure from Blagovèstshensk under the very nose of the police; I suppose he thought that, like himself, I had come to say farewell to some friend, (which was quite permissible,) and I managed that he should lose sight of me, so that he might imagine I had gone home.
I found there were people of my acquaintance on board who belonged to the place; but they apparently never once thought that I was leaving Siberia for good; and in conversation with them I let it appear that I was travelling on some official commission. Our boat was a tug, and therefore went very slowly; it stopped at every village on the way, and took five days to reach Habarovsk. Here came my most perilous moment, as on leaving the steamer everyone had to show their passes, and of course I had none. I avoided this difficulty by staying on the boat for the night; and next morning I betook myself to the house of a friend, who came on board and fetched me. I spent the day with him, and we devoted it to seeing the town.
I had every intention of seeing as much as possible, during my journey eastwards, of this country—hitherto unknown to me—which was developing with such extraordinary rapidity, especially since the construction of the railway by the Ussur. Villages were springing up like mushrooms, and soon became towns of a considerable size. Habarovsk itself had developed from the insignificant hamlet of Habàrovka into an important town which is now the residence of the Governor-General of the Amur province. It is situated at the junction of the Amur with the Ussur, and stands in a most picturesque position on a steep and lofty cliff around whose base flow the two mighty rivers. But this chief town of a vast and fertile country is itself like nothing but a great barrack; nearly all the houses have the appearance of official buildings, and one meets soldiers in the streets at every turn. As in most Russian towns, there is no look of comfort; the streets are unpaved and very dusty, and are dimly lighted at night by oil lamps standing at a respectful distance from each other. I found the town museum, however, by no means ill-equipped.
Faithful to my intention of learning all I could about the country, I gladly accepted the invitation of a friend, near whose place of abode I must pass, and went to visit him at Nikolsk-Ussurìsk. This place had only within the year attained to the dignity of being called a town, and, like many others in the province, it swarmed with soldiers; which was explained by the fact that the slaughtering of Chinese was not yet entirely at an end, and, as was supposed, preparations were also being made for war with Japan. As the district lies in close proximity to China, Korea, and Japan, and is the probable theatre of future warlike operations, the Russian Government is apparently taking its measures in good time, and by drafting in large numbers of soldiers is converting the province into a sort of military camp.
After a stay of four-and-twenty hours at Nikolsk-Ussurìsk I went on to Vladivostock, a very pretty seaport of some thirty thousand inhabitants, for which—not without good grounds—a brilliant future is prophesied. Its situation is charming, and in its public arrangements it is already far in advance, not only of most Siberian towns, but also of many in European Russia. Here I stayed three days before I could arrange for my passage on a foreign vessel, but at length all was ready, and my last night in Siberia arrived. I slept but little. The thought that next morning I was to bid farewell to all that time had made so familiar to me mingled with my fears for the successful achievement of my escape. So often in my life had some small chance cruelly frustrated all my plans that I naturally trembled now for the result of the present adventure. I had no desire to find myself suddenly bound for the icy regions of Yakutsk instead of for the lands of freedom, and I prepared beforehand for every possibility.