A SIBERIAN TARANTASS.
Here we found a tarantass, neither new nor elegant, but strong and capacious. We hired it to Nerchinsk, and our Cossack transferred the baggage while four little rats of ponies were being harnessed. The harness used on this road was a combination of leather and hemp in about equal proportions. There were always traces of ropes more or less twisted. It is judicious to carry a quantity of rope in one’s vehicle for use in case of accident. A Russian yemshick (driver) is quite skillful in repairing breakages if he can find enough rope for his purpose.
The horses, like many other terrestrial things, were better than they appeared, and notwithstanding the bad road they carried us at good speed. I was told that the horses between Stratensk and Lake Baikal were strangers to corn and oats, and not over familiar with hay. Those at the post stations must be fed in the stable, but nearly all others hunt their own food. In summer they can easily do this, but in winter they subsist on the dry grass standing on the hills and prairies. There is little snow in this region, but when it falls on the pastures the horses scrape it away to reach the grass. They are never blanketed, in the coldest weather, and the only brushing they receive is when they run among bushes.
In the government of Yakutsk there are many horses that find their own living in winter as in summer. They eat grass, moss, fish, bushes, and sometimes the bark of trees. Captain Wrangell tells of the great endurance of these beasts, and says that like all other animals of that region they shed their coats in the middle of summer.
At the second station the smotretal sought our horses among the village peasants, as he had none of his own. He explained that a high official had passed and taken the horses usually kept for the courier. This did not satisfy Borasdine, who entered complaint in the regulation book, stating the circumstances of the affair. At every station there is a book sealed to a small table and open to public inspection. An aggrieved traveler is at liberty to record a statement of his trouble. At regular intervals an officer investigates the affairs of every station. Complaints are examined, and offences treated according to their character. This wholesome regulation keeps the station masters in proper restraint.
Day had fairly opened through a dense fog when our delay ended. While we descended a long hill one of our hinder wheels parted company and took a tangent to the road side. We were in full gallop at the time, but did not keep it up long. A pole from a neighboring fence, held by a Pole from Warsaw, lifted the axle so that the wheel could be replaced. I assisted by leaving the carriage and standing at the roadside till all was ready. We had some doubts about the vehicle holding together much longer, but it behaved very well. The tarantass is a marvel of endurance. To listen to the creaking of its joints, and observe its air of infirmity, lead to the belief that it will go to pieces within a few hours. It rattles and groans and threatens prompt analysis, but some how it continues cohesive and preserves its identity hundreds of miles over rough roads.
We were merciless to the horses as they were not ours and we were in a hurry. When the driver allowed them to lag, Borasdine ejaculated ‘POSHOL!’ with a great deal of emphasis and much effect. This word is like ‘faster’ in English, and is learned very early in a traveler’s career in Russia. I acquired it before reaching the first station on my ride, and could use it very skillfully. In the same connection are the words ‘droghi’ (‘touch up,’) ‘skorey’ (‘hurry,’) and ‘stupie’ (‘go ahead.’) All these commands have the accent upon the last syllable, and are very easy to the vocal organs. I learned them all and often used them, but to this day I do not know the Russian word for ‘slower.’ I never had occasion to employ it while in the empire, except once when thrown down an icy slope with a heap of broken granite at its base, and at another time when a couple of pretty girls were standing by the roadside and, as I presumed, wanted to look at me.
From Stratensk to Nerchinsk, a distance of sixty miles, our road led among hills, undulating ground, meadows, and strips of steppe, or prairie, sometimes close to the river, and again several miles away. The country is evidently well adapted to agriculture, the condition of the farms and villages indicating prosperity. I saw much grain in stacks or gathered in small barns. As it was Sunday no work was in progress, and there were but few teams in motion anywhere. The roads were such that no one would travel for pleasure, and the first day of the week is not used for business journeys.
From the top of a hill I looked into the wide and beautiful valley of the Nertcha, which enters the Shilka from the north. On its left bank and two or three miles from its mouth is the town of Nerchinsk with five or six thousand inhabitants. Its situation is charming, and to me the view was especially pleasing, as it was the first Russian town where I saw evidences of age and wealth. The domes of its churches glistened in the sunlight that had broken through the fog and warmed the tints of the whole picture. The public buildings and many private residences had an air of solidity. Some of the merchants’ houses would be no discredit to New York or London. The approach from the east is down a hill sloping toward the banks of the Nertcha.
We entered the gateway of Nerchinsk, and after passing some of the chief buildings drove to the house of Mr. Kaporaki, where we were received with open arms. Borasdine and his acquaintance kissed affectionately, and after their greeting ended I was introduced. We unloaded from the tarantass, piled our baggage in the hallway, and dismissed the driver with the borrowed vehicle. Almost before we were out of our wrappings the samovar was steaming, and we sat down to a comforting breakfast, with abundance of tea. And didn’t we enjoy it after riding eight or ten hours over a road that would have shaken skimmilk into butter? You bet we did.