Steamer Corwin,
Plover Bay, Siberia, August 26, 1881.
This morning a party from the
ship went to the head of the bay under the guidance of a pair of Chukchis to
see a herd of reindeer that they told us was there. The distance, we found,
is about eighteen miles from the lower harbor, where the Corwin is at
anchor. The day was fine and we enjoyed the sail very much, skimming rapidly
along in the steam launch over smooth water, past the huge ice-sculptured
headlands and mountains that formed the walls, and the deep cafions and
valleys between them that swept back to clusters of glacial fountains. The
naturalist made desperate efforts now and then to obtain specimens of rare
auks, petrels, ducks, etc., which were flying and swimming about us in great
abundance, making lively pictures of happy, exuberant life.
The rocks bounding the bay,
though beautiful in their combinations and collocations of curves and peaks,
inflowing and touching delicately, and rising in bold, picturesque groups,
are, nevertheless, intensely desolate-looking for want of trees, shrubs, or
vegetation dense enough to give color in telling quantities visible at a
distance. Even the valleys opening back from the water here and there are
mostly bare as seen at the distance of a mile or two, and have only faint
tinges of green derived from dwarf willows, sedges, and heathworts that
creep low among the stones. Yet here, or in the larger valleys adjacent,
where the main tributary glaciers came into the Plover Bay trunk, and in
other valleys to the northeastward, large herds of reindeer, wild as well as
tame, find sustenance, together with a few wild sheep and bears.
On the terminal moraine of
the ancient glacier that formed the first main tributary of the Plover Bay
Glacier, some four miles from the extreme head of the bay, we noticed two
small skin-covered huts, which our guides informed us belonged to the
reindeer people we were seeking, and that we should certainly find them at
home, because their herd was only a little one and found plenty of weeds and
moss to eat in the valleys behind their huts without going far away, as the
people had to do who owned big herds. At two days' distance, they said,
where the valleys are wide and green, with plenty to eat, there is a big
herd belonging to one of their friends, so big that they cover all the
ground thereabouts; but the herd we were to see was only a little one, and
the owner was not a rich man.
As we approached the shore, a
hundred yards or so from the huts, a young man came running to meet us,
bounding over the moraine boulders, with easy strength as if his limbs had
been trained on the mountains for many a year, until running had become a
pleasant indulgence. He was presently joined by three others, who gazed and
smiled curiously at the steam launch and at our party, wondering
suspiciously, when the interpreter had told our object, why we should come
so far and seem so eager to see their deer. Our guides, who, of course,
understood their prejudices and superstitions, told them that we wanted a
big, fat deer to eat, and that we would pay them well for it - tobacco,
lead, powder, caps, shot, calico, knives, etc., told off in tempting order.
But they said they had none to sell, and it required half an hour of
cautious negotiations to get them over their suspicious alarms, and [to
induce them to] consent to sell the carcass of one, provided we would leave
the skin, which they said they wanted to keep for winter garments.
Then two young men, fine,
strapping, elastic fellows, threw off their upper parkas, tied their
handsomely embroidered moccasins firmly across the instep and around the
ankle, poised their long Russian spears, which they said they always carried
in case they should meet a bear or wolf, and away they sped after the herd
up a long, wide glacier valley along the bank of a stream, bounding lightly
from rock to rock in easy poise, and across soft bits of tundra and rough
sedgy meadows with long, heaving, undulating strides. Their gait, as far as
we could see, was steadily maintained and was admirably lithe and strong and
graceful. Their small feet and ankles and round tapered shanks showed to
fine advantage in their tight-fitting leggings and moccasins as they went
speeding over the ground like trained racers glorying in their strength. We
watched them through field- glasses until they were about three miles away,
during which time they did not appear to slacken their pace a single moment.
They were gone about three hours, so that the herd must have been at least
six or seven miles from the huts.
In the meantime we ate
luncheon and strolled about the neighborhood looking at the plants, at the
views down the bay, and at the interior of the huts, etc. We chatted with
the Chukchis about their herd, about the wild sheep on the mountains, the
wild reindeer, bears, and wolves. We found that the family consisted of
father, mother, a grown daughter, and the boys that were after the deer. The
old folks were evidently contented and happy in their safe retreat among the
hills, with a sure support from their precious herd. And they were proud of
their red-checked girl and two strapping boys, as well they might be; for
they seemed as healthy and rosy and robust a group of children as ever
gladdened the heart of Chukchi parents. The boys appeared to be part owners
of everything about the house, as well as of the deer, for in looking
through the huts we saw a few curious odds and ends that we offered to
purchase, but were told, in most cases, that they could not sell them until
the boys came back.
Their huts are like all we
have seen belonging to the Chukchis as far north and west as we have been -a
balloon frame of long poles hewn on two sides so that they might be bent
outward, the points coming together not in the middle, but a little to one
side away from the direction of the prevailing wind, which gives them a
curious humpbacked appearance. This frame is covered with skin of the
walrus, if it can be had; if not, then with sealskin or deerskin. No great
pains are taken to keep them rain-proof, so that in wet weather they are
oftentimes damp or muddy. But there is not much rain in the Arctic regions,
and the deerskin pologs, or drawing rooms inside, are kept perfectly dry and
snug, whatever the state of the main outer tent may chance to be.
The two huts of this place
are smaller and more leaky and dilapidated than is common. The covering is
composed of different kinds of skin, perhaps a thousand pieces sewed
together, some of them with the hair on, the whole appearing as one colossal
patchwork, as if made up of small scraps. The head of the family seemed to
be a little ashamed of them, for he explained with the air of a man making
an apology, that he did not construct them; they formerly belonged to some
one else, and that soon after he came to take possession one of them was
torn open by a hungry bear that went in and frightened his wife and daughter
and stole some grease.
The Chukchis seem to be a
good-natured, lively, chatty, brave and polite people, fond of a joke, and,
as far as I have seen, fair in their dealings as any people, savage or
civilized. They are not savage by any means, however, but steady,
industrious workers, looking well ahead, providing for the future, and
consequently seldom in want, save when at long intervals disease or other
calamities overtake their herds, or exceptionally severe seasons prevent
their obtaining the ordinary supplies of seals, fish, whales, walruses,
bears, etc., on which the sedentary Chukchis chiefly depend. The sedentary
and reindeer Chukchis are the same people, and are said to differ in a
marked degree, both in physical characteristics and in language, from the
neighboring tribes, as they certainly do from the Eskimos. Many of them have
light complexions, hooked or aquiline noses, tall, sinewy, well-knit frames,
small feet and hands, and are not, especially the men, so thick-set,
short-necked or fiat-faced as the Eskimos.
After we had watched
impatiently for some time, the reindeer came in sight, about a hundred and
fifty of them, driven gently without any of that noisy shouting and worrying
that are heard in driving the domestic animals in civilized countries. We
left the huts and went up the stream bank about three quarters of a mile to
meet them, led by the owner and his wife and daughter, who carried a knife
and tin cup and vessels to save the blood and entrails - which stirred a
train of grim associations that greatly marred the beauty of the picture.
I was afraid from what I knew
of the habits of sheep, cattle, and horses that a sight of strangers would
stampede the herd when we met. But of this, as it proved, there was not the
slightest danger; for of all the familiar, tame animals man has gathered
about him, the reindeer is the tamest. They can hardly be said to be
domesticated, since they are not shut in around the huts, or put under
shelter either winter or summer. On they came, while we gazed eagerly at the
novel sight - a thicket of antlers, big and little, old and young, led by
the strongest, holding their heads low most of the time, as if conscious of
the fact that they were carrying very big, branching horns. A straggler fell
behind now and then to cull a choice mouthful of willow or dainty, gray
lichen, then made haste to join the herd again.
They waded across the creek
and came straight toward us, up the sloping bank where we were waiting,
nearer, nearer, until we could see their eyes, their smooth, round limbs,
the velvet on their horns, until within five or six yards of us, the drivers
saying scarce a word, and the owner in front looking at them as they came up
without making any call or movement to attract them. Alter giving us the
benefit of their magnificent eyes and sweet breath they began to feed off,
back up the valley. Thereupon the boys, who had been loitering on the
stream-side to catch a salmon trout or two, went round them and drove them
back to us. Then the deer stopped feeding and began to chew the cud and to
lie down, with eyes partly closed and dreamy-looking, as if profoundly
comfortable, we strangers causing them not the slightest alarm though
standing nearly within touching distance of them. Cows in a barnyard, milked
and petted every day, are not so gentle. Yet these beautiful animals are
allowed to feed at will, without herding to any great extent. They seem as
smooth and clean and glossy as if they were wild. Taming does not seem to
have injured them in any way. I saw no mark of man upon them.
They are not so large as I
have been led to suppose, nor so rough and bony and angular. The largest
would not much exceed three or four hundred pounds in weight. They are, at
this time of year, smooth, trim, delicately molded animals, very fat, and
apparently short-winded, for they were breathing hard when they came up,
like oxen that had been working on a hot day. The horns of the largest males
are about four feet long, rising with a backward curve, and then forward,
and dividing into three or four points, and with a number of short palmated
branches putting forward and downward from the base over the animal's
forehead. Those of the female are very slender and elegant in curve, more so
than any horns I have seen. This species of deer is said to be the only one
in which the female has horns. The fawns, also, have horns already, six
inches to a foot long, with a few blunt, knobby branches begin- fling to
sprout. All are now in the velvet, some of which is beginning to peel off
and hang in loose shreds about the heads of some of them, producing a very
singular appearance, as if they had been fighting a rag-bag.
The so-called velvet is a
close, soft, downy fur, black in color, and very fine and silky, about three
eighths or half an inch long, with a few hairs nearly an inch in length
rising stiffly here and there over the general plushy surface. All the
branches of their horns are covered, giving an exceedingly rich and
beautiful effect. The eyes are large, and in expression confiding and
gentle. The head, contrary to my preconceived notions derived from
engravings, is, on the whole, delicately formed, the muzzle long and
straight, blunt and cowlike. The neck is thin, tapering but little, rather
deep, and held, while standing at ease, sloping down a little, and the large
males have long hair on the under side. The body is round, almost
cylindrical - the belly not at all bloated or bent out like that of a cow.
The legs are stout, but not clumsy, and taper finely into the muscles of the
shoulders and hips. The feet are very broad and spreading, making a track
about as large as a cow's. This enables the animal to walk over boggy
tundras in summer and over snow in winter.
In color they vary almost as
much in some specimens as do cattle and horses, showing white, brown, black,
and gray at the same time. The prevailing color is nearly black in summer,
brownish-white in winter. The colors of the tame animals are not so constant
as those of the wild. The hair is, when full grown, very heavy, with fine
wool at the bottom, thus making a warm covering sufficient to enable the
animal to resist the keenest frosts of the Arctic winter without any shelter
beyond the lee side of a rock or hill.
After walking through the
midst of the herd, the boys selected a rather small specimen to be killed.
One caught it by the hind leg, just as sheep are caught, and dragged it
backward out of the herd; then the other boy took it by the horns and led it
away a few yards from the herd, no notice being taken of its struggles by
its companions, nor was any tendency to take fright observed, such as would,
under the circumstances, have been shown by any of the common domestic
animals. The mother alone looked after it eagerly, and further manifested
her concern and affection by uttering a low, grunting sound, and by trying
to follow it.
After it was slain they laid
it on its side. One of the women brought forward a branch of willow about a
foot long, with the green leaves on it, and put it under the animal's head.
Then she threw four or five handfuls of the blood, from the knife-wound back
of the shoulder, out over the ground to the southward, making me get out of
the way, as if this direction were the only proper one. Next she took a
cupful of water and poured a little on its mouth and tail and on the wound.
While this ceremony was being performed all the family looked serious, but
as soon as it was over they began to laugh and chat as before. The herd,
during the time of the killing and dressing, were tranquilly chewing their
cud, not noticing even the smell of the blood, which makes cattle so
frantic.
One of our party was anxious
to procure a young one alive to take home with him, but they would not sell
one alive at any price. When we inquired the reason they said that if they
should part with one, all the rest of the herd would die, and the same thing
would happen if they were to part with the head of one. This they excitedly
declared was true, for they had seen it proved many times though white men
did not understand it and always laughed about it. When we indicated a very
large buck and inquired why they did not kill that big one, and let the
little ones grow, they replied that that big fellow was strong, and knew how
to pull a sled, and could run fast over the snow that would come by-and-by,
and they needed him too much to kill him.
I have never before seen half
so interesting a company of tame animals. In some parts of Siberia reindeer
herds numbering many thousands may be seen together. In these frozen regions
they supply every want of their owners as no other animal could possibly do
- food, warm clothing, coverings for their tents, bedding, rapid
transportation and, to some extent, fuel. They are not nearly so numerous in
the immediate vicinity of the bay as they once were, a fact attributed to
the sale of several live specimens to whalers. |