For several days the adventurers continued their journey, without encountering anything worthy of being recorded. It is true that an hour seldom passed in which thoughts, feelings, or incidents, did not occur to Alexis, of some interest; and if we could transfer them here with the same vividness that they touched his mind and heart, it would be well to put them down. But, after all, the pen can give but a poor idea of what is going on in the brain and bosom of a lively and sanguine youth, separated from home and going forth to hunt sables in the wilds of Siberia.
In about three weeks after their departure, the travellers reached Yeniseisk, a considerable place, situated on the Yenisei. The town is built chiefly of wood, the houses being low. Leaving this place, they proceeded in a northeasterly direction, usually travelling about twenty-five miles a day.
It was now the month of September, and already the weather began to grow severe, and the snow to fall. The country also became more and more desolate, and the inhabitants were more scattered. They met with no villages, and frequently travelled a whole day without seeing a single human habitation. There were extensive marshy plains, upon which a few groups of stunted willows were to be seen; but this was almost the only vegetation that the soil produced.
The journey was not only uninteresting and depressing, but it was, in some
respects, laborious and severe. Old Linsk, however, kept up the spirits of the party by his incessant prattle; and, as he had seen a good deal of life and possessed a retentive memory, he not only enlivened his companions, but he communicated a large amount of useful information. It is true that all his opinions were not just or wise, but among some chaff there was a good deal of wheat.
After crossing the river Yenisei, and leaving the town of Yeniseisk, he had a good deal to say about these things, particularly the former. “I once went down that river,” said he, “entered the Arctic Ocean, passed into the sea of Obi, and up the river Obi to Tobolsk. The whole distance was more than twenty-five hundred miles, and we were gone four months.
“The purpose of our trip was to get elephants’ teeth, which are found on the banks of the rivers, and along the shores of the Arctic sea. There are no elephants living in these regions now, nor are there any in all Siberia; the country is so cold that these creatures cannot dwell there. It appears that Siberia must have had a warmer climate once than it has now, for not only do we find elephants’ bones, but those of the buffalo, and other animals, which can only subsist in warm countries. It was interesting to see the bones of buffaloes and elephants along the shore of the ocean; but teeth were scarce; for, cold and desolate as the country is, many people had been there before us, and gathered up most of them. We made out pretty well, however; for we entered the forests as winter approached, and shot some bears, and sables, and ermines; and what we lacked in elephants’ teeth we made up in furs. Beside what we gained in the way of trade, I got a good deal of information and enjoyed some fun; my plan being to make the best of everything.
“Along the banks of the Yenisei, the inhabitants are Ostiacks, and are chiefly fishermen; and a sad set they are. I don’t know how it happens, but it seems to me that those who live on fish have the most thirsty throats of any persons in the world. All the people were addicted to drinking brandy, and never did I see so much drunkenness and riot. It is bad enough all over Siberia; the people generally believe in evil spirits, but brandy is the worst of them all. The man that invented brandy has done more mischief to the human race than it is possible to conceive; and those who contrive to sell it and diffuse it, are only aiding in brutifying the human species. But it is a thrifty trade, and many rich men are engaged in it. They flourish in this world; and so did the rich man we read of in Scripture; but he did not fare very well in another world. I can’t say how it was, but I have always thought that Dives was a brandy dealer, and that was the reason he was so tormented.”
“This is very strange,” said Alexis, “for you drink brandy yourself, Linsk.”
“That’s all true,” was the reply. “I can’t help it. I’ve got into the habit of it, and I can’t get out of it. It’s one of the worst parts of the story, that when brandy has got its clutches upon you, you can’t pull them off. It’s with brandy as with the evil spirit—when you’ve once made a bargain with him, you must go through with it. So it is with those Ostiacks along the Yenisei; they whip their wooden gods because they don’t send them good luck in hunting and fishing; but they should whip their own backs, for if they fail in anything, it is generally because they get drunk, and are incapable of using their skill and strength to advantage. They know that brandy is at the bottom of all the mischief, but still they drink, and lay all to the gods that they do not like to impute to themselves.
“To the north of the Ostiacks are the Samoides, who live along the shore of the Arctic Ocean the whole extent of Siberia. They are few in number, for the country is so cold and barren, that it is impossible they should greatly increase. They are very short, and I believe are the smallest people in the world. They eat a great deal of fish, and, what is very odd, they seem to like it best when it is a little tainted. They have many reindeer, and in the autumn hunt white foxes, with the skins of which they buy brandy.