At Irkutsk, the centre of this second part of Siberia, the land is fertile, and yet not a grain of wheat is put into it; the city is at the confluence of three rivers, but, for all that, not a fish is taken from them. Although there are in the neighbourhood iron mines, and china clay of excellent quality for the manufacture of porcelain, all these raw materials are neglected, and the material for building is brought from the Ural, and domestic utensils from Moscow and even St. Petersburg.
The inhabitants of Tomsk make profit out of the indolence of the Western Siberians and the gold fever of the Eastern, and become corn merchants, forage providers, butchers, and—what is surprising—the fishmongers for nearly the whole of Siberia. The enormous distance between Tomsk and other important cities, of which I have spoken, might throw doubt on the soundness of such a view; but this commerce is rendered quite possible from the curious effects of extreme cold on aliments.
MARKET-PLACE AT TOMSK.
One day, on dining on a plump fowl that had been placed before me, I asked, from curiosity, how long it had been since the bird was killed; they replied, in order to diminish the natural repugnance of a Frenchman for anything not fresh, “Two months only; not more.” For beef, no precautions are required to preserve it; it takes care of itself. Nearly all the butchers kill, for a stock of fresh provisions, at the commencement of the cold, a quantity sufficient for the winter. There is no fear of any fresh aliment changing under such a temperature. It is the same with the fish, which become so solid and stiff, that they are set up on their tails against the walls of the markets, be the tail ever so long and the fish ever so heavy.
The climate of Siberia has also very marked effect on the germination and growth of grain: the sowing is done in May only, and in July the corn is ripe for harvesting.
It is quite clear, besides, that the spring here in Siberia makes its effects felt much more rapidly than in England or France. If one watches the trees, their leaves and twigs, he will perceive very sensible differences in the development from day to day. This arises in part from the increased vigour of a sap long dormant under the snow, but more particularly from the great length of the days, and consequent increase of sunshine, whereby vegetation enjoys not only considerably more heat and longer periods of diurnal activity, but from the shortness of the nights, suffers a proportionately less share of refrigeration and retardation of its development.[10]
The inhabitants of Tomsk being always occupied, and principally in the cultivation of the soil, have, on this account, preserved, more scrupulously than elsewhere, the ancient Siberian customs. I will mention only a few of them. In every house and even every room, one or several lamps may be seen burning before some picture, some object of piety, according to the day or religious solemnity. When a visitor presents himself he bows two or three times, at the same time making the sign of the cross before the picture; then, but not before, he salutes his host in a manner according to his occupation at the moment. If he is eating, they say: “Tea and sugar,” which signifies: “I hope you will be able to put sugar in your tea.” This luxury here is not given to everybody. On leaving the room, they say: “Rest in peace!” When the inhabitants of Tomsk enter a shop, they make use of an expression of this meaning: “I wish you may make a bargain with me quite to your own advantage.”
Great quantities of merchandise are brought from China and the Trans-Baikal and discharged at Tomsk during the summer, to be conveyed hence by steamboats to Tumen, and this additional traffic adds considerably to the wealth of the former city.