And at every little town were great piles of wood waiting for the steamer, and whenever we stopped men hastily set to work bringing in loads of wood to replace that which we had burnt. And we burnt lavishly. Even the magnificent forests of Siberia will not stand this drain on them long.
The other day when the National Service papers came round one was sent to a dear old “Sister” who for nearly all her life has been working for the Church in an outlying district of London. She is past work now, but she can still go and talk to the old and sick and perhaps give advice about the babies, but that is about the extent of her powers. She looked at the paper and as in duty bound filled it in, giving her age as seventy. What was her surprise then to receive promptly from the Department a suggestion that she should volunteer for service on the land, and offering her, by way of inducement, good wages, a becoming hat and high boots! That branch of the Department has evidently become rather mechanical. Now the Russians all the way from Saghalien to Petrograd treated me with sueh unfailing kindness that I was in danger of writing of them in the stereotyped fashion in which the National Service Department sent out its papers. Luckily they themselves saved me from such an error. There were three memorable, never-to-be-forgotten days when the Russians did not treat me with kindness.
The warmest and pleasantest days of my trip on the Amur we went through lovely scenery: the river was very wide, the blue sky was reflected in its blue waters and the green, tree-clad hills on either side opened out and showed beyond mountains in the distance, purple and blue and alluring. It was the height of summer-time, summer at its best, a green, moist summer. We hugged the Russian bank, and the Manchurian bank seemed very far away, only it was possible to see that wherever the Russians had planted a little town on the other side was a Chinese town much bigger. The Russian were very little towns, and all the inhabitants, it seemed, turned out to meet us, who were their only link with the outside world.
The minute the steamer came close enough ropes were flung ashore to moor it, and a gangway was run out very often—and it was an anxious moment for me with Buchanan standing on the end, for he was always the first to put dainty little paws on the gangway, and there he stood while it swayed this way and that before it could make up its mind where to finally settle down. Then there was a rush, and a stream of people going ashore for exercise passed a stream of people coming on board to sell goods. Always these took the form of eatables. Butter, bread, meat, milk, berries they had for sale, and the third and fourth class passengers bought eagerly.
I followed Buchanan ashore, but I seldom bought anything unless the berries tempted me. There were strawberries, raspberries and a blue berry which sometimes was very sweet and pleasant.
At first the people had been very kind and taken a great deal of interest in the stranger and her pretty little dog, but after we left Kharbarosvk and I had no one to appeal to a marked change came over things. If I wanted to take a photograph, merely a photograph of the steamer lying against the bank, my camera was rudely snatched away and I was given to understand in a manner that did not require me to know Russian that if I did that again it would be worse for me. Poor little Buchanan was kicked and chunks of wood were flung at him. As I passed along the lower decks to and from the steamer I was rudely hustled, and on shore not only did the people crowd around me in a hostile manner, but to my disgust they spat upon me.
I could not understand the change, for even in the first-class saloon the people looked at me askance. And I had ten days of the river before I reached Stretensk, where I was to join the train. It is terrible to be alone among hostile people, and I kept Buchanan close beside me for company and because I did not know what might happen to him. If this had been China I should not have been surprised, but Russia, that had always been so friendly. I was mightily troubled.
And then came the explanation, the very simple explanation.
Just as the river narrowed between the hills and looked more like a river, and turned north, there came on board at a tiny wayside town a tall young Cossack officer, a soinik of Cossacks, he called himself. He wore a khaki jacket and cap, and dark blue breeches and riding-boots. He had a great scar across his forehead, caused by a Chinese sword, and he had pleasant blue eyes and a row of nice white teeth. He was tall and goodly to look upon, and as I sat at afternoon tea at a little table on deck he came swaggering along the deck and stood before me with one hand on a deck-chair.
“Madame, is it permitted?” he asked in French.