His distinguished Services as an Arctic Explorer.—From Petersburg to Jakutsk in 1820.—Trade of Jakutsk.—From Jakutsk to Nishne-Kolymsk.—The Badarany.—Dreadful Climate of Nishne-Kolymsk.—Summer Plagues.—Vegetation.—Animal Life.—Reindeer-hunting.—Famine.—Inundations.—The Siberian Dog.—First Journeys over the Ice of the Polar Sea, and Exploration of the Coast beyond Cape Shelagskoi in 1821.—Dreadful Dangers and Hardships.—Matiuschkin’s Sledge-journey over the Polar Sea in 1822.—Last Adventures on the Polar Sea.—A Run for Life.—Return to St. Petersburg.
The expeditions which had been sent out during the reign of the Empress Anna for the exploration of the Arctic shores of Eastern Siberia, had performed their task so badly as to leave them still almost totally unknown. To fill up this blank in geography, the Emperor Alexander ordered two new expeditions to be fitted out in 1820 for the purpose of accurately ascertaining the limits of these extreme frontiers of his immense empire. Of the one which, under Lieutenant Anjou, commenced its operations from the mouth of the Jana, and comprised within its range New Siberia and the other islands of the Lächow group, but little has been communicated to the public, all his papers having been accidentally burned; but the travels of Lieutenant von Wrangell, the commander of the second expedition, have obtained a world-wide celebrity. Starting from the mouths of the Kolyma, he not only rectified the errors of the coast-line of Siberia, from the Indigirka in the west to Koliutschin Island in the east, but more than once ventured in a sledge upon the Polar Ocean, in the hopes of discovering a large country supposed to be situated to the northward of Kotelnoi and New Siberia.
Wrangell left St. Petersburg on March 23, 1820, and experiencing in his journey of 3500 miles repeated alternations of spring and winter, arrived at Irkutsk, where the gardens were in full flower, on May 20.
After a month’s rest, a short journey brought him to the banks of the Lena, on which he embarked on June 27, to descend to Jakutsk, which he reached on July 27. This small town of 4000 inhabitants bears the gloomy stamp of the frigid north, for though it has a few good houses, its dwellings chiefly consist of the winter yourts of the Jakuts, with turf-covered roofs, doors of skins, and windows of talc or ice. The only “sight” of this dreary place is the old ruinous ostrog or wooden fort built by the Cossacks, the conquerors of the country, in 1647. Jakutsk is the centre of the interior trade of Siberia. To this place are brought, in enormous quantities, furs of all kinds, walrus-teeth, and mammoth-tusks, from distances of many thousand versts, to an amount of half a million pounds.
The commercial sphere of the Jakutsk merchants is of an immense extent. During a cold of ten and twenty degrees they set out for the Lächow Isles, for234 the fair of Ostrownoje, for Ochotsk, or Kjachta. Jakutsk merchants were the first who ventured in crazy ships across the Sea of Kamchatka, and discovered the island of Kadjiak, eighty degrees of longitude from their home.
On September 12 Wrangell left Jakutsk, where regular travelling ends, as from thence to Kolymsk, and generally throughout Northern Siberia, there are no beaten roads. The utmost that can be looked for are foot or horse tracks leading through morasses or tangled forests, and over rocks and mountains. Travellers proceed on horseback through the hilly country, and, on reaching the plains, use sledges drawn either by reindeer or dogs.
In this manner Wrangell crossed from the basin of the Lena to that of the Yana, never experiencing a higher temperature than +2°, and frequently enduring a cold of more than -12°, during the journey over the intervening hills, and then turning eastward, traversed the Badarany, a completely uninhabited desert, chiefly consisting of swamps. These Badarany never entirely dry up, even after the longest summer-drought. At that time a solid crust is formed, through which the horses frequently break, but they are preserved from totally sinking in the mire by the perpetually frozen underground. Nothing can be more dismal and dreary than the Badarany. As far as the eye reaches, nothing is to be seen but a covering of dingy moss, relieved here and there on some more elevated spots by wretched specimens of dwarf-larches. The winter is the only season for traversing this treacherous waste, but woe to the traveller should he be overtaken by a snow-storm, as for miles and miles there is no shelter to be found but that of some ruinous powarni, or post-station.
At length, fifty-two days after leaving Jakutsk, Wrangell arrived on November 2 at Nishne-Kolymsk, the appointed head-quarters of the expedition, where he was welcomed with a cold of -40°, or 72° below the freezing-point of water.
Even in Siberia the climate of this place is ill-reputed for its severity, which is as much due to its unfavorable position as to its high latitude (68° N.). The town stands on a low swampy island of the Kolyma, having on the west the barren tundra, and on the north the Arctic Ocean, so that the almost constant north-west winds have full scope for their violence, and cause frequent snow-storms even in summer.
The mean temperature of the whole year is only +14°. The river at Nishne-Kolymsk freezes early in September, but lower down, where the current is less rapid, loaded horses can sometimes cross on the ice as early as August 20, nor does the ice ever melt before June.
Although the sun remains fifty-two days above the horizon, the light, obscured by almost perpetual mists, is accompanied with little heat, and the solar disc, compressed by refraction into an elliptical form, may be looked at with the naked eye without inconvenience. In spite of the constant light, the common order of the parts of the day is plainly discernible. When the sun sinks down to the horizon, all nature is mute; but when, after a few hours, it rises in the skies, every thing awakens, the few little birds break out in feeble twitter, and the shrivelled flowers venture to open their petals.
Although winter and summer are in reality the only seasons, yet the inhabitants235 fancy they have spring when about noon the rays of the sun begin to make themselves felt, which generally takes place about the middle of March, but this so-called spring has frequent night-frosts of twenty degrees. Their autumn is reckoned from the time when the rivers begin to freeze over, that is, from the first days of September, when a cold of thirty degrees is already by no means uncommon. As may easily be supposed in a climate like this, the vegetation of summer is scarcely more than a struggle for existence.
In the latter end of May the stunted willow-bushes put out little wrinkled leaves, and those banks which slope towards the south become clothed with a semi-verdant hue; in June the temperature at noon attains 72°; the flowers show themselves, and the berry-bearing plants blossom, when sometimes an icy blast from the sea destroys the bloom. The air is clearest in July, and the temperature is usually mild, but then a new plague arises for the torment of man. Millions and millions of mosquitoes issue from the swamps of the tundra, and compel the inhabitants to seek refuge in the dense and pungent smoke of the “dymokury,” or large heaps of fallen leaves and damp wood, which are kindled near the dwellings and on the pasture-grounds, as the only means of keeping off those abominable insects.
These tormentors, however, are not without use, for they compel the reindeer to migrate from the forests to the sea-shore and the ice, thus exposing them to the attack of the hunters, and they also prevent the horses from straying in the plains, and wandering beyond the protection of the smoke.
Scarcely is the mosquito plague at an end, when the dense autumn fogs rising from the sea spoil the enjoyment of the last mild hours which precede the nine months’ winter. In January the cold increases to -45°; breathing then becomes difficult; the wild reindeer, the indigenous inhabitant of the Polar region, withdraws to the thickest part of the forest, and stands there motionless, as if deprived of life.
With the 22d November begins a night of thirty-eight days, relieved in some degree by the strong refraction and the white of the snow, as well as by the moon and the aurora. On the 28th December the first pale glimmering of dawn appears, which even at noon does not obscure the stars. With the re-appearance of the sun the cold increases, and is most intense in February and March at the rising of the sun. Even in winter completely clear days are very rare, as the cold sea-wind covers the land with mists and fogs.
The character of the vegetation corresponds with that of the climate. Moss, stunted grass, dwarfish willow-shrubs, are all that the place produces. The neighboring valleys of the Aniuj, protected by mountains against the sea-wind, have a somewhat richer flora, for here grow berry-bearing plants, the birch, the poplar, absinthe, thyme, and the low-creeping cedar. This poverty, however, of the vegetable world is strongly contrasted with the profusion of animal life over these shores and on the Polar Sea. Reindeer, elks, bears, foxes, sables, and gray squirrels fill the upland forests, while stone-foxes burrow in the low grounds. Enormous flights of swans, geese, and ducks arrive in spring, and seek deserts where they may moult and build their nests in safety. Eagles, owls, and gulls pursue their prey along the sea-coast; ptarmigan run in troops236 among the bushes; little snipes are busy among the brooks. In the morasses the crows gather round the huts of the natives; and when the sun shines in spring, the traveller may even sometimes hear the note of the finch, and in autumn that of the thrush. But the landscape remains dreary and dead; all denotes that here the limits of the habitable earth are passed, and one asks with astonishment what could induce human beings to take up their abode in so comfortless a region?
In the district of Kolymsk, which surpasses in size many a European kingdom, the population, at the time of Wrangell’s visit, consisted of 325 Russians, 1034 Jakuts, and 1139 Jukahires of the male sex, of whom 2173 had to pay the jassak, consisting of 803 fox and 28 sable skins, worth 6704 roubles, besides which they were taxed to the amount of 10,847 roubles in money. Thus the Russian double-eagle made, and no doubt still makes, the poor people of Kolymsk pay rather dear for the honor of living under the protection of its talons.
The Cossacks, in virtue of their descent from the original conquerors of the country, enjoy the enviable privilege of being tax free; they are, however, obliged to render military service when required. They form the small garrison of Nishne-Kolymsk, and every year twenty-five of them repair to the fair of Ostrownoje, to keep the wild Tchuktchi in check. The Russians are chiefly the descendants of fur-hunters or of exiles; and though they have adopted the native clothing and mode of life, they are still distinguishable by their more muscular frame. The women, who are somewhat better-looking than the female Jakuts and Jukahires, are fond of music, and their traditional songs dwell on the beauties of nature—the rustling brook, the flowery mead, the nightingale’s note—all things belonging to a world of which they have no idea.
The dwellings of the Russians are hardly to be distinguished from the yourts of the native tribes. They are made of drift-wood, and, as may easily be imagined, are very small and low. The interstices are carefully stopped up with moss, and the outside is covered with a thick layer of clay. An external mud wall rises to the height of the roof to keep off the wind. In a hut like this Wrangell spent many a winter month, but when the cold was very intense, he was not able to lay aside any part of his fur clothing, though sitting close to a large fire. When he wanted to write he had to keep the inkstand in hot water; and at night, when the fire was allowed to go out for a short time, his bedclothes were always covered with a thick snow-like rime.
The existence of the people of Kolymsk depends upon fishing and hunting, in which they are assisted by their dogs. These faithful, but cruelly-treated animals, are said to resemble the wolf, having long, pointed, projecting noses, sharp and upright ears, and long bushy tails. Their color is black, brown, reddish-brown, white, and spotted, their howling that of a wolf. In summer they dig holes in the ground for coolness, or lie in the water to escape the mosquitoes; in winter they burrow in the snow, and lie curled up, with their noses covered with their bushy tails. The preparation of these animals for a journey must be carefully attended to; for a fortnight at least they should be put on a small allowance of hard food, to convert their superfluous fat into firm flesh; they must also be driven from ten to twenty miles daily, after which they have237 been known to travel a hundred miles a day without being injured by it. A team consists commonly of twelve dogs, and it is of importance that they should be accustomed to draw together. The quick and steady going of the team, as well as the safety of the traveller, mainly depends on the docility and sagacity of the foremost dog or leader. No pains are therefore spared in his education, so that he may understand and obey his master’s orders, and prevent the rest from starting off in pursuit of the stone-foxes or other animals that may chance to cross their path. Their usual food is frozen fish, and ten good herrings are said to be a proper daily allowance for each dog while on duty. When not actively employed, they are obliged to content themselves with offal, and towards spring, when the winter’s provisions are generally exhausted, they suffer the keenest hunger.
This season is also a hard time for the wandering tribes of the neighborhood. Then they flock to Nishne-Kolymsk, and to the other Russian settlements on the Kolyma, but here also famine stares them in the face. There is, indeed, a public corn magazine, but the price of flour is raised by the cost of transport to such an exorbitant height, as to be completely beyond the reach of the majority of the people. Three such dreadful springs did Wrangell pass at Kolymsk, witnessing scenes of misery never to be forgotten.
But when the distress of the people has reached its highest point, relief is generally at hand. Troops of migratory birds come from the south, and furnish some food for the despairing population. The supply is increased in June, when the ice breaks on the Kolyma, for in spite of the faultiness of the nets and the want of skill of the fishermen, the river is the principal source of plenty during the summer, and supplies, moreover, the chief provisions for the following winter. But with these gifts the Kolyma brings the plague of inundations, so that during the summer of 1822 Wrangell was obliged to spend a whole week on the flat roof of his hut.
The chief resource of the Jukahires of the River Aniuj is the reindeer chase, the success of which mainly decides whether famine or some degree of comfort is to be their lot during the coming winter. The passage of the reindeer takes place twice a year; in spring, when the mosquitoes compel them to seek the sea-shore, where they feed on the moss of the tundra, and in autumn, when the increasing cold forces them to retire from the coast. The spring migration, which begins about the middle of May, is not very profitable, partly because the animals are meagre, and their furs in bad condition, and partly because it is more difficult to kill them as they pass the frozen rivers. The chief hunting is in August and September, when the herds, consisting each of several thousand deer, return to the forests. They invariably cross the river at a particular spot, where a flat sandy bank makes their landing easier; and here they press more closely together, under the guidance of the strongest animals of the herd.
The passage takes place after some hesitation, and in a few minutes the river is covered with swimming reindeer. The hunters, hidden in creeks or behind stones and bushes, now shoot forth in their small boats and wound as many as they can. While they are thus busy, they run some risk of being overturned in the turmoil, for the bucks defend themselves with their horns, their238 teeth, and their hind legs, while the roes generally attempt to spring with their fore feet upon the edge of the boat. When the hunter is thus overset, his only chance of safety is to cling to a strong animal, which safely brings him to the shore. But the dexterity of the hunters renders such accidents rare. A good hunter will kill a hundred reindeer and more in half an hour. In the mean time the other boats seize the killed animals, which become their property, while those that are merely wounded and swim ashore belong to the hunters, who, in the mi............