Whilst waiting for our companions, we had time to verify several diagnostical reactions, the Kalmuks lending themselves willingly to the operation. We heard later that they thought they were being vaccinated against small-pox, a disease much feared in the steppes.
As soon as the plague mission arrived, we started towards the Kirghiz steppes, for there was a plague centre north of the Caspian Sea. When we were out at sea, an intense north wind began to blow the waves away from the Kirghiz bank, and soon the depth lessened to such an extent that we could make no progress. The sailors were perpetually making soundings, and their repeated cries of “Two and a half feet!” became a regular nightmare. The situation seemed critical, and returning to Astrakhan was suggested; an idea which infuriated Metchnikoff; he would not hear of it. At last, after several incidents we reached the Kirghiz bank, the crossing having lasted three days instead of the usual twenty-three hours.
As we arrived, we could see from afar a sort of Valkyries’ ride of natives clad in brilliant colours and riding up at full gallop with wild cries and exclamations. Before us spread a barren and sandy steppe, producing the sad impression of a land forsaken by God and man. How could life be possible there? But gradually, as we became captivated by the charm of the boundless space, the purity of the air, the harmonious colouring and the scent of wild heliotrope and wormwood which alone can grow in those sands, we began to understand that it was not only possible to live in those steppes, but also to love them.
The plague centre stood among sandy hills with low-growing grass; the summit of one of them was black with charred remains of burnt objects; the corpses were buried in the same place. Only a few wretched forsaken hovels remained. In order to throw light upon endemic plague in the steppes, it was first of all necessary to ascertain whether the plague microbes remained alive for some time in places where the scourge had raged; if they were preserved in dead bodies which had been singed rather than burnt; if the worms, insects, rodents, and domestic animals on the spot were or were not carriers of the plague microbe, and could or could not transmit it to a distance from the initial focus.
After organising a small emergency laboratory, the corpses were exhumed, and Dr. Salimbeni made a post-mortem examination. These corpses, having been in the ground for three months, were in a state of advanced decomposition and contained no living microbes.
Having set the work of the plague mission going, Metchnikoff parted from it in order to accomplish the projected investigations on tuberculosis in the Kalmuk steppes. He made a very solemn entry into these steppes; a Kalmuk deputation welcomed the mission and presented Metchnikoff with a bronze Buddha.
The aspect of those natives is sad and humble, their movements are slow, their eyes dull. In this they contrast with their neighbours, the quick and intelligent Kirghiz, and one reason for it is that the latter, being Moslems, absorb no alcohol, while the Kalmuks consume fermented milk (alcoholic fermentation) which poisons them slightly but continuously; this observation had already been made by Metchnikoff at the time of his previous visit.
The Kalmuks live in tents covered with coarse felt; they transport these dwellings on camels from one place to another when their herds of sheep or horses have consumed the scanty pasture grass around the camp. There is no attempt at cultivation, and the steppes become more and more barren as the pastures become exhausted. In order to remedy this evil, the Russian administration has begun various experimental plantations. In some places the steppes are covered with small tamarisk bushes or with silky grass, but, as a rule, the chief growth is of silver wormwood. The monotony is not so great as one might think, for the steppes, like a mirror, reflect all the divers light-changes, and wonderful natural phenomena take place there. During the great heat, mirages are to be seen in the distance—a river, lakes, reed-grown shores; sometimes a sand-storm supervenes, more infernal than fairy-like, called here “smertch.” The wind raises the sand in tongues of flames or in funnels running up to the sky with giddy rapidity. Gradually, all the separate turmoils join in a gigantic wall of sand, advancing in an orgy of movement; the heavy clouds fall towards the ground, the sand rushes upwards, everything becomes confounded in darkness and chaos.
One feels so entirely in the power of natural forces that the fatalism of the poor inhabitants of the land is easily understood. The Kalmuks, primitive and nomadic, produce the impression of ghosts from distant centuries.
Metchnikoff noticed that since his last visit in 1874, fatal influences had worked havoc on the population. Four scourges, all of them coming from outside, are destroying the Kalmuks: syphilis, alcoholism, tuberculosis, and the Russians who are constantly pushing them back. Those poor people realise the fate which is awaiting them, and resign themselves like a sick man who knows his sickness to be incurable.