The season of summer, at Okotsk, consisting of the months of June, July, and August, is the only time when a vessel can venture to navigate the stormy sea of that far northern region. Alexis was, therefore, obliged to wait several weeks, before the time of departure arrived. As the land mail came once every month from St. Petersburgh to Okotsk, by way of Tobolsk, he twice received a letter from his sister. In the latter instance, the epistle arrived but a single day before the vessel was to sail, and contained somewhat painful intelligence. A part of it ran thus:
“Although, as I have said, I am, on the whole, cheerful, yet, I confess that my mind is sometimes clouded with apprehension. Our dear father is impressed with the idea that he shall live but a short period, and it is impossible to disguise the fact, that he is very feeble. He does not leave the house now, and very seldom his room. His mind is, however, tranquil, and he seems to feel a sort of religious resignation, which is really beautiful to behold. He has no anxieties but for you and me.
“He has a dreadful idea of Colonel Krusenstern, the Russian commander here, who has been so kind to us, and especially to me. He thinks all his kindness is selfish and hypocritical, and that, under the mask of friendship, he harbors some base design. I must confess, that I begin to fear the man, for he is known to be ruthless and savage in his temper, when once excited. I almost suspect that he has sent you and Suvarrow away, to deprive us of protection. If our poor father were to die, what, alas, would be my situation? But I must not indulge these thoughts; indeed, they are only flitting shadows, that occasionally come across my mind. Do not mention these things to Suvarrow, for they might make him unhappy. I must confess that I feel depressed at the idea of the dreadful distance that lies between us; and how that distance will soon be increased. Only think of it, Alexis—when you get into the Pacific Ocean—you and Suvarrow will be on one side of the world, and I on the other! Then will there be a whole world between us!—This is a sad thought; but I must not permit it to weaken my heart, so as to prevent doing my duty to our beloved father. Oh, Alexis! what would I not give to see you! But it may not be. Heaven bless you, my dear, my only brother! Farewell!
Katrine.”
Alexis was so much affected by this letter that he was on the point of deciding to return straight back to Tobolsk—but before he had quite made up his mind, the vessel was ready to depart, and Suvarrow hurried him on board. There all was activity and bustle. The ship, called the Czarina, carried forty guns, and contained three hundred men. To get a vessel of war, of this size, under way, is a serious matter. The heavy anchor is to be taken in; a variety of sails to be set; and it seemed as if all was to be done with as much noise as possible. Alexis had never been on board a ship before, and the scene was quite strange and bewildering to him. But at last the anchor was in; several sheets of broad canvass were spread to the wind; the vessel began to move forward; the waves dashed against her prow, and rippled along her sides; a stream of milky foam was at her stern, and the little town of Okotsk began to seem smaller and smaller, and at last sank from the view, behind the swelling bosom of the sea!
The die was now cast; Alexis was upon the ocean, separated from the land on which he had hitherto dwelt, and many months must elapse before he could hope to see his kindred, about whom he now had occasion to feel the greatest anxiety. But his attention was soon called to other things. The wind blew more and more fresh, and the gallant ship flew like an eagle upon her way. Everything was new to our young hero, and for a long time his mind was absorbed in the scenes on board the ship, or by the aspect of the gloomy deep. But at last he grew sea-sick, and was obliged to go to his berth.
The dog presented to Peyrouse.
The sea of Okotsk appears like a little spot upon the map, but it is a thousand miles long, and five hundred miles wide. The vessel, therefore, was soon out of sight of land, but proceeding southward, she approached a rugged and rocky shore, in about a week. Alexis was now able to be on deck, and was told that they were about passing between the great island of Jesso, on the left, and the island of Saghalien, on the right. They soon entered a narrow strip of water, called the straits of Peyrouse, in honor of that celebrated navigator, who passed through them in 1788. The land was visible on both sides, but it presented a dreary and desolate appearance.
Alexis learned that Jesso, or Matsmai, as it is often called, though considered one of the Kurile islands, belongs to the Japanese. There are, however, on this island, as well as upon Saghalien, a race of natives, called Ainos, who are remarkable for having long and full heads of hair. But they are very intelligent, and at the same time are neat, peaceful, and much attached to one another. Peyrouse landed upon one of the shores in this region, and had a very pleasant reception. One day he gave a child a piece of rose-colored nankeen; and his father, wishing to return the favor, went out immediately, and got a little dog, and begged Peyrouse to accept it. This is only one instance to show how well they appreciate a favor.