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+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #68142 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/68142)
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-The Project Gutenberg eBook of From North Pole to Equator, by Alfred
-Edmund Brehm
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
-most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
-of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
-will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
-using this eBook.
-
-Title: From North Pole to Equator
-       Studies of Wild Life and Scenes in Many Lands
-
-Author: Alfred Edmund Brehm
-
-Editor: J. Arthur (John Arthur) Thomson
-
-Translator: Margaret R. Thomson
-
-Release Date: May 21, 2022 [eBook #68142]
-
-Language: English
-
-Produced by: Alan & The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
-             https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images
-             generously made available by The Internet Archive/American
-             Libraries.)
-
-*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FROM NORTH POLE TO
-EQUATOR ***
-
-
-
-
-
-                  [Illustration: A E Brehm]
-
-
-   BLACKIE & SON, LIMITED, LONDON, GLASGOW AND EDINBURGH.
-
-
-
-
-                            FROM
-
-                    NORTH POLE TO EQUATOR
-
-                       [Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-                            FROM
-
-                    NORTH POLE TO EQUATOR
-
-               STUDIES OF WILD LIFE AND SCENES
-                        IN MANY LANDS
-
-                 BY THE NATURALIST-TRAVELLER
-
-                     ALFRED EDMUND BREHM
-        AUTHOR OF “BIRD-LIFE”, “TIERLEBEN”, ETC. ETC.
-
-
-                TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN BY
-                     MARGARET R. THOMSON
-
-                          EDITED BY
-              J. ARTHUR THOMSON, M.A., F.R.S.E.
-
-
-  _WITH EIGHTY-THREE ILLUSTRATIONS FROM ORIGINAL DRAWINGS_
-
-                       [Illustration]
-
-
-                           LONDON
-         BLACKIE & SON, LIMITED, 50 OLD BAILEY, E.C.
-                     GLASGOW AND DUBLIN
-                            1896
-
-
-
-
-PREFACE
-
-TO THE GERMAN EDITION.
-
-
-Six years have passed since the grave at Renthendorf closed over the
-remains of my esteemed father, whose death--all too early--was as
-great a loss to Science as to those who loved and honoured him. It
-was strange that his eventful and adventurous life, in the course of
-which he visited and explored four quarters of the globe, should have
-ended at the little spot in green Thuringia where he was born. He had
-just reached his fifty-fifth year when his lips, so apt in speech,
-were silenced, and the pen which he held so masterfully dropped from
-his hand. He was full of great plans as to various works, and it is
-much to be regretted that the notes which he had collected towards
-the realization of these were too fragmentary for anyone but their
-author to utilize. But the manuscripts which he left contained many a
-treasure, and it seemed to me a duty, both to the author and to all
-friends of thoughtful observation, to make these available to the
-reading public.
-
-The following pages form the first book of the kind, and contain the
-most valuable part of the legacy--Alfred Edmund Brehm’s lectures,
-once so universally popular. I believe that, in giving these pages to
-the world, I am offering a gift which will be warmly welcomed, and I
-need add no commendatory words of mine, for they speak adequately for
-themselves. Writing replaces spoken words very imperfectly, and my
-father, who was never tied down to his paper, may often have delivered
-the same matter in different forms according to the responsiveness of
-his audience, abbreviating here, expanding there--yet to anyone who
-has heard him the following pages will recall his presence and the
-tones of his sonorous voice; everyone will not only recognize in them
-the individuality of the author of the _Tierleben_ (Animal Life) and
-_Bird Life_, but will learn to know him in a new and attractive side
-of his character. For it is my father’s lectures almost more than
-any other of his works which show the wealth of his experiences, the
-many-sidedness of his knowledge, his masterly powers of observation
-and description, and not least his delicate kindly humour and the
-sympathetic interpretation of animate and inanimate nature which arose
-from his deeply poetic temperament.
-
-Therefore I send these pages forth into the world with the pleasant
-confidence that they will add many to the author’s already numerous
-friends. May they also gain new and unprejudiced sympathizers for the
-animal world which he loved so warmly and understood so thoroughly;
-and may they, in every house where the love of literature, and of the
-beautiful is cherished, open eyes and hearts to perceive the beauty of
-nature, the universal mother; then will the highest and noblest aim of
-their author be achieved.
-
-So may all success attend these pages, may they receive a joyful
-welcome, and wherever they gain an entrance may they remain as a prized
-possession.
-
-  HORST BREHM,
-  Doctor of Medicine.
-
- BERLIN, _September, 1890_.
-
-
-
-
-PREFATORY NOTE
-
-TO THE ENGLISH TRANSLATION.
-
-
-It has been a privilege to make available to English readers a book
-which shows a great naturalist at his best--a book that presents the
-reader with a series of vivid pictures of wild life and scenery,
-painted from actual observation, and with all the truth and accuracy
-that belong to the artist and man of science combined. It consists of
-a number of papers or articles that were originally read as public
-lectures and were afterwards collected into a volume that has met
-with much success in Germany. The subjects treated range over a wide
-and varied field. Some of them are unfamiliar to the ordinary reader,
-and besides their inherent interest have the added charm of novelty;
-others, if more familiar, are here invested with a freshness and charm
-that such a trained observer and practised writer as the author could
-alone impart.
-
-To the translation of the German original have been added
-an introductory essay, showing Brehm’s position among
-naturalist-travellers, an extended table of contents, an appendix
-containing a number of editorial notes, and an index. The number of
-pictorial illustrations has also been increased.
-
-For a notice of the Author and his labours see the concluding part of
-the Introductory Essay.
-
-  M. R. T.
-  J. A. T.
-
-  UNIVERSITY HALL,
-  EDINBURGH, _December, 1895_.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-CONTENTS.
-
-
-                                                                    Page
-
-  PREFACE TO GERMAN EDITION, v
-
-  PREFATORY NOTE TO THE ENGLISH TRANSLATION, vii
-
-  INTRODUCTORY ESSAY BY THE EDITOR, xv
-
-
-  THE BIRD-BERGS OF LAPLAND.
-
-  The legend of Scandinavia’s origin--The harvest of the sea--The
-  doves of Scandinavia--Eider-holms and bird-bergs--The nesting of the
-  eider-duck--Razor-bills and robber-gulls--Millions of birds--(Notes,
-  pp. 565-566),                                                       33
-
-
-  THE TUNDRA AND ITS ANIMAL LIFE.
-
-  High tundra and low tundra--The jewels of the tundra--The flora of the
-  tundra--The Arctic fox--The lemming--The reindeer--The birds of the
-  tundra--Mosquitoes--(Notes, pp. 566-568),                           63
-
-
-  THE ASIATIC STEPPES AND THEIR FAUNA.
-
-  The steppe in summer and in winter--The coming of spring--The
-  rendezvous in the reeds--The marsh-harrier--The home of larks--Jerboa
-  and souslik--The archar sheep--The kulan and the ancestry of the
-  horse--(Notes, pp. 568-571),                                        86
-
-
-  THE FORESTS AND SPORT OF SIBERIA.
-
-  An ice-wilderness or not--The forest zone--Axe and fire--The
-  pines--Hunting and trapping--The elk, the wolf, and the lynx--Sable
-  and other furred beasts--Bear-hunting and bear-stories--(Notes, pp.
-  571-573),                                                          120
-
-
-  THE STEPPES OF INNER AFRICA.
-
-  The progress of the seasons--A tropical thunderstorm--Night in
-  the steppes--Spiders, scorpions, and snakes--Mudfish and other
-  sleepers--Cleopatra’s asp--Geckos--The children of the air--The
-  bateleur eagle--The ostrich--The night-jar--The mammals of the
-  steppe--Stampede before a steppe-fire--(Notes, pp. 573-576),       168
-
-
-  THE PRIMEVAL FORESTS OF CENTRAL AFRICA.
-
-  Spring in the forest--The beautiful Hassanie--The baobab--Climbers and
-  twiners--The forest birds and their voices--Sociable birds--Conjugal
-  tenderness--Salt’s antelope--River monsters--A rain-lake--Hosanna in
-  the highest--(Notes, pp. 576-578),                                 201
-
-
-  MIGRATIONS OF MAMMALS.
-
-  Black rats and brown--Cousin man’s kindness to the monkeys--Migration
-  of mountain animals--The restlessness of the reindeer--Wandering herds
-  of buffaloes--The life of the kulan--Travellers by sea--Flights of
-  bats--The march of the lemmings--(Notes, pp. 578-581),             234
-
-
-  LOVE AND COURTSHIP AMONG BIRDS.
-
-  Are birds automata?--The battles of love--Different modes of
-  courtship--Polygamy--Life-long devotion--(Notes, p. 581),          259
-
-
-  APES AND MONKEYS.
-
-  Sheikh Kemal’s story--The monkey question--A general picture of monkey
-  life--Marmosets and other New World monkeys--Dog-like and man-like Old
-  World monkeys--Monkeys as pets--The true position of monkeys--(Notes,
-  pp. 581-583),                                                      282
-
-
-  DESERT JOURNEYS.
-
-  An appreciation of the desert--The start of the caravan--The character
-  of the camel--A day’s journey--Oases--Simoom and sand storms--Fata
-  morgana--The peace of night--(Note, p. 583),                       318
-
-
-  NUBIA AND THE NILE RAPIDS.
-
-  Egypt and Nubia contrasted--Wady Halfa and Philæ--The three great
-  cataracts--Journey up and down stream--The Nile boatmen--History of
-  Nubia--(Notes, pp. 583-584),                                       356
-
-
-  A JOURNEY IN SIBERIA.
-
-  Russian hospitality--A tedious journey--An excursion into Chinese
-  territory--Sport among the mountains--Journeying northwards--On the
-  track of splenic fever--(Notes, p. 584),                           390
-
-
-  THE HEATHEN OSTIAKS.
-
-  Racial affinities--Christians and heathen--The dress of the
-  Ostiaks--The tshum of the wandering Ostiaks--The life of the
-  herdsmen--A fishing village--The Ostiak at the fair--An Ostiak
-  wedding--An interview with a Shaman--Funeral rites--(Notes, pp.
-  584-585),                                                          416
-
-
-  NOMAD HERDSMEN AND HERDS OF THE STEPPES.
-
-  The name Kirghiz--Conditions of life on the steppe--Winter
-  dwellings--Breaking up the camp--In praise of the yurt--The herds
-  of the Kirghiz--The Kirghiz horse--Summer wanderings--“A sheep’s
-  journey”--Returning flocks--Evening in the aul--(Note, p. 585),    451
-
-
-  FAMILY AND SOCIAL LIFE AMONG THE KIRGHIZ.
-
-  The Kirghiz as horsemen--Racing and wrestling--Hunting with eagles and
-  greyhounds--A sheep-drive--The “red tongue”--Kirghiz bards--Education
-  and character--Kirghiz etiquette--The price of a bride--The
-  children--Funeral ceremonies,                                      482
-
-
-  COLONISTS AND EXILES IN SIBERIA.
-
-  Mistaken impressions--Impartial observation--The emancipation of the
-  serfs--The Altai--Compulsory service--Condition of the peasants--The
-  superabundant harvest--Romance in Siberia--Domestic life open
-  to the convicts--The way of sighs--General picture of Siberian
-  life--Runaways--(Notes, pp. 585-586),                              510
-
-
-  AN ORNITHOLOGIST ON THE DANUBE.
-
-  Twenty eyries--The voyage down the river--The woods on the banks--A
-  heronry--Sea-eagles--A paradise of birds--The marsh of Hullo--The black
-  vultures of Fruškagora--Homeward once more--(Note, p.586),         540
-
-  INDEX,                                                             587
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
-
-
-  FIG.                                                             Page
-
-      PORTRAIT OF ALFRED EDMUND BREHM,               _Frontispiece_.
-
-   1. Scene on the Sogne Fjord, Norway,                              35
-
-   2. Colony of Eider-ducks,                                         44
-
-   3. The Bird-bergs of Lapland,                                     51
-
-   4. Razor-bills,                                                   61
-
-   5. The High Tundra in Northern Siberia,                           65
-
-   6. Peregrine Falcons and Lemmings,                                70
-
-   7. The White or Arctic Fox (_Canis lagopus_),                     73
-
-   8. The Reindeer (_Tarandus rangifer_),                            76
-
-   9. Skuas, Phalathrope, and Golden Plovers,                        80
-
-  10. View in the Asiatic Steppes,                                   89
-
-  11. A Salt Marsh in the Steppes,                                   90
-
-  12. A Herd of Horses during a Snowstorm on the Asiatic Steppes,    94
-
-  13. Lake Scene and Waterfowl in an Asiatic Steppe,                 99
-
-  14. The Souslik (_Spermophilus citillus_),                        108
-
-  15. The Jerboa (_Alactaga jaculus_),                              108
-
-  16. Archar Sheep or Argali (_Ovis Argali_),                       111
-
-  17. Pallas’s Sand-grouse (_Syrrhaptes paradoxus_),                113
-
-  18. The Kulan (_Equus hemionus_),                                 118
-
-  19. Reindeer Flocking to Drink,                                   133
-
-  20. Elk and Black-cock in a Siberian Forest,                      137
-
-  21. The Maral Stag,                                               145
-
-  22. The Elk Hunter--A Successful Shot,                            148
-
-  23. A Siberian Method of Wolf-shooting,                           153
-
-  24. Sable and Hazel-grouse in a Siberian Forest,                  159
-
-  25. The Bed of an Intermittent River, Central Africa,             175
-
-  26. Hills of African Termites, or White Ants,                     179
-
-  27. Secretary-bird and Aspis,                                     184
-
-  28. On an Ostrich Farm in South Africa,                           190
-
-  29. Hyæna-dogs pursuing Antelope,                                 196
-
-  30. Zebras, Quaggas, and Ostriches flying before a Steppe Fire,   199
-
-  31. The Baobab Tree, Central Africa,                              211
-
-  32. Long-tailed Monkeys,                                          222
-
-  33. Salt’s Antelope (_Antilope Saltiana_),                        224
-
-  34. Crocodile and Crocodile-birds (_Pluxianus ægyptius_),         228
-
-  35. A Wild Duck defending her Brood from a Brown Rat,             236
-
-  36. A Herd of American Bison or Buffalo,                          243
-
-  37. Wild Horses crossing a River during a Storm,                  246
-
-  38. Flying Foxes,                                                 251
-
-  39. Springbok Antelopes,                                          258
-
-  40. The Strutting of the Tragopan in Pairing-time,                269
-
-  41. Cock Chaffinches Fighting,                                    274
-
-  42. Entellus Monkeys (_Semnopithecus Entellus_),                  285
-
-  43. Common Marmoset or Ouistiti (_Hapale Jacchus_),               292
-
-  44. Red Howling Monkeys (_Mycetis seniculus_),                    295
-
-  45. Old Baboon Rescuing Young One,                                301
-
-  46. Macaque or Bonnet-monkey (_Macacus sinicus_) and Snake,       307
-
-  47. The Hoolock (_Hylobates leuciscus_), one of the Gibbons,      310
-
-  48. Chimpanzee (_Troglodytes niger_),                             313
-
-  49. Caravan in the African Desert,                                323
-
-  50. An Encampment in the Sahara,                                  328
-
-  51. Gazelles lying near a Mimosa,                                 332
-
-  52. An Oasis in the Desert of Sahara,                             343
-
-  53. Band of Mounted Bedouins,                                     353
-
-  54. An Egyptian _Sakieh_ or Water-wheel,                          365
-
-  55. A Nubian Village on the Nile,                                 374
-
-  56. Nubian Children at Play,                                      377
-
-  57. A Passage through the Nile Rapids,                            385
-
-  58. A Post Station in Siberia,                                    395
-
-  59. Imperial Eagle, Marmot, and Souslik,                          407
-
-  60. An Ostiak Settlement on the Banks of the Obi,                 409
-
-  61. Huts and Winter Costume of the Christian Ostiaks,             419
-
-  62. “Heathen” Ostiaks, Reindeer, and Tshums,                      424
-
-  63. Ostiaks with Reindeer and Sledge,                             427
-
-  64. Interior of an Ostiak Dwelling (Tshum),                       435
-
-  65. The Burial of an Ostiak,                                      449
-
-  66. The Home of a Wealthy Kirghiz,                                455
-
-  67. Life among the Kirghiz--the Return from the Chase,            461
-
-  68. Kirghiz with Camels,                                          467
-
-  69. Kirghiz and their Herds on the March in the Mountains,        471
-
-  70. Kirghiz Aul, or Group of Tents,                               478
-
-  71. Hunting the Wolf with the Golden Eagle,                       487
-
-  72. Kirghiz in pursuit of Wild Sheep,                             489
-
-  73. Frolic at a Kirghiz Wedding,                                  505
-
-  74. Miners in the Altai returning from Work,                      517
-
-  75. Exiles on the Way to Siberia,                                 527
-
-  76. Interior of a Siberian Peasant’s Dwelling,                    532
-
-  77. Types of Siberian Convicts--“Condemned to the Mines”,         535
-
-  78. Flight of an Exile in Siberia,                                538
-
-  79. Herons and their Nests,                                       544
-
-  80. Rooks and their Nests,                                        546
-
-  81. Sea-eagles and Nest in a Danube Forest,                       550
-
-  82. Nest of the Penduline Titmouse (_Parus Pendulinus_),          562
-
-
-
-
-INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.
-
-BY J. ARTHUR THOMSON.
-
-BREHM’S PLACE AMONG NATURALIST-TRAVELLERS.
-
-
-Though Brehm’s lectures might well be left, as his son has said,
-to speak for themselves, it seems useful to introduce them in
-their English dress with some notes on the evolution of the
-naturalist-traveller and on Brehm’s place in the honourable list; for
-an adequate appreciation of a book like this depends in part on a
-recognition of the position it occupies among analogous works, and on
-having some picture of the illustrious author himself.
-
-In sketching the history of the naturalist-traveller it is not
-necessary to go very far back; for though it is interesting to recall
-how men of old followed their migrating herds, as the Lapp or Ostiak
-does his reindeer, and were led by them to fresh fields and new
-conquests, or how others followed the salmon down the rivers and became
-the toilers of the sea, this ancient lore is full of uncertainty, and
-is, besides, of more moment to the sociologist than to the naturalist.
-What we attempt here is merely to indicate the various types of
-naturalist-traveller who have in the course of time succeeded one
-another in the quest for the new.
-
-
-I.
-
-The foundations of zoology were laid by Aristotle some three hundred
-years before Christ, but they remained unbuilt on for nearly eighteen
-centuries. Here and there some enthusiast strove unaided, but only a
-fragmentary superstructure was reared. In fact, men were pre-occupied
-with tasks of civilization more serious than the prosecution of
-zoology, though that is not trivial. Gradually, however, great social
-movements, such as the Crusades and the collapse of Feudalism; great
-intellectual and emotional movements, such as those of the Renaissance;
-great inventions, such as that of printing, gave new life to Europe,
-and zoology shared in the re-awakening. Yet the natural history of the
-Middle Ages was in great part mystical; fancy and superstition ran riot
-along paths where science afterwards established order, and, for all
-practical purposes, the history of zoology, apart from the efforts of a
-few pioneers, may be said to date from the sixteenth century.
-
-Now, one indubitable factor in the scientific renaissance of the
-sixteenth century was the enthusiasm of the early travellers, and this
-stimulus, periodically recurrent, has never failed to have a similar
-effect--of giving new life to science. But while science, and zoology
-as a branch of it, has been evolving during the last three centuries,
-the traveller, too, has shared in the evolution. It is this which we
-wish to trace.
-
-I. THE ROMANTIC TYPE. Many of the old travellers, from Herodotus
-onwards, were observant and enthusiastic; most were credulous and
-garrulous. In days when the critical spirit was young, and verification
-hardly possible, there could not but be a strong temptation to tell
-extraordinary “travellers’ tales”. And they did. Nor need we scoff at
-them loudly, for the type dies hard; every year such tales are told.
-
-Oderico de Pordenone and other mediæval travellers who give some
-substance to the mythical Sir John de Maundeville were travellers of
-this genial type. Oderico describes an interesting connecting link
-between the animal and vegetable kingdom, a literal “zoophyte”, the
-“vegetable lamb”, which seems to have been a woolly Scythian fern, with
-its counterpart in the large fungus which colonials sometimes speak of
-as the “vegetable sheep”. As for the pretended Sir John, he had in his
-power of swallowing marvels a gape hardly less than that of the great
-snakes which he describes. But even now do we not see his snakes in
-at least the picture-books on which innocent youth is nurtured? The
-basilisk (one of the most harmless of lizards) “sleyeth men beholding
-it”; the “cocodrilles also sley men”--they do indeed--“and eate them
-weeping, and they have no tongue”. “The griffin of Bactria hath a body
-greater than eight lyons and stall worthier than a hundred egles, for
-certainly he will beare to his nest flying, a horse and a man upon his
-back.” He was not readily daunted, Sir John, for when they told him of
-the lamb-tree which bears lambs in its pods, his British pluck did not
-desert him, and he gave answer that he “held it for no marvayle, for in
-his country are trees which bear fruit which become birds flying, and
-they are good to eate, and that that falleth on the water, liveth, and
-that that falleth on earth, dyeth; and _they_ marvailed much thereat”.
-The tale of the barnacle-tree was a trump card in those days!
-
-Another example of this type, but rising distinctly above it in
-trustworthiness, was the Venetian Marco Polo, who in the thirteenth
-century explored Asia from the Black Sea to Pekin, from the Altai
-to Sumatra, and doubtless saw much, though not quite so much as he
-describes. He will correct the fables of his predecessors, he tells us,
-demonstrating gravely that the unicorn or rhinoceros does _not_ allow
-himself to be captured by a gentle maiden, but he proceeds to describe
-tailed men, yea, headless men, without, so far as can be seen, any
-touch of sarcasm. Of how many marvels, from porcupines throwing off
-their spines and snakes with clawed fore-feet, to the great Rukh, which
-could bear not merely a poor Sinbad but an elephant through the air, is
-it not written in the books of Ser Marco Polo of Venezia?
-
-II. THE ENCYCLOPÆDIST TYPE.--This unwieldy title, suggestive of
-an omnivorous hunger for knowledge, is conveniently, as well as
-technically, descriptive of a type of naturalist characteristic of the
-early years of the scientific renaissance. Edward Wotton (d. 1555),
-the Swiss Gesner (d. 1565), the Italian Aldrovandi (d. 1605), the
-Scotsman Johnson (d. 1675), are good examples. These encyclopædists
-were at least impressed with the necessity of getting close to the
-facts of nature, of observing for themselves, and we cannot blame them
-much if their critical faculties were dulled by the strength of their
-enthusiasm. They could not all at once forget the mediæval dreams, nor
-did they make any strenuous effort to rationalize the materials which
-they so industriously gathered. They harvested but did not thrash.
-Ostrich-like, their appetite was greater than their power of digesting.
-A hasty judgment might call them mere compilers, for they gathered all
-possible information from all sources, but, on closer acquaintance,
-the encyclopædists grow upon one. Their industry was astounding, their
-ambition lofty; and they prepared the way for men like Ray and Linnæus,
-in whom was the genius of order.
-
-Associated with this period there were many naturalist-travellers,
-most of whom are hardly now remembered, save perhaps when we repeat
-the name of some plant or animal which commemorates its discoverer.
-José d’Acosta (d. 1600), a missionary in Peru, described some of the
-gigantic fossils of South America; Francesco Hernanded published about
-1615 a book on the natural history of Mexico with 1200 illustrations;
-Marcgrav and Piso explored Brazil; Jacob Bontius, the East Indies;
-Prosper Alpinus, Egypt; Belon, the Mediterranean region; and there were
-many others. But it is useless to multiply what must here remain mere
-citations of names. The point is simply this, that, associated with
-the marvellous accumulative industry of the encyclopædists and with
-the renaissance of zoology in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries,
-there were numerous naturalist-travellers who described what they saw,
-and not what they fancied might be seen.
-
-III. THE GENERAL NATURALIST TYPE.--As Ray (d. 1705) and Linnæus (d.
-1778) began to reduce to order the accumulations of the encyclopædists,
-and as the anatomists and physiologists began the precise study of
-structure and function, the naturalist-travellers became more definite
-in their aims and more accurate in their observations. Linnæus
-himself sent several of his pupils on precisely scientific journeys.
-Moreover, in the eighteenth century there were not a few expeditions
-of geographical and physical purpose which occasionally condescended
-to take a zoologist on board. Thus Captain Cook was accompanied
-on his first voyage (1768-1781) by Banks and Solander, and on his
-second voyage by the Forsters, father and son. On his third voyage he
-expressly forbade the intrusion of any naturalist, but from all that we
-can gather it would have been better for himself if he had not done so.
-In these combined voyages there was nascent the idea of co-operative
-expeditions, of which the greatest has been that of the _Challenger_.
-
-In illustration of travellers who were not specialists, but in varying
-degrees widely interested naturalists, it will be sufficient to cite
-three names--Thomas Pennant, Peter Pallas, and, greatest of all,
-Alexander von Humboldt.
-
-Of Thomas Pennant (1726-1798) we may note that he was one of the early
-travellers in Scotland, which was then, as he says, almost as unknown
-as Kamchatka, and that he extorted from Dr. Johnson the admission,
-“He’s a Whig, sir, a sad dog; but he’s the best traveller I ever read;
-he observes more things than any one else does”. He knew Buffon and
-corresponded with Linnæus, and was the author of several works on
-British and North American zoology. His so-called _Arctic Zoology_ is
-mainly a sketch of the fauna in the northern regions of North America,
-begun “when the empire of Great Britain was entire, and possessed the
-northern part of the New World with envied splendour”. His perspective
-is excellent! the botanist, the fossilist, the historian, the
-geographer must, he says, accompany him on his zoological tours, “to
-trace the gradual increase of the animal world from the scanty pittance
-given to the rocks of Spitzbergen to the swarms of beings which enliven
-the vegetating plains of Senegal; to point out the causes of the local
-niggardness of certain places, and the prodigious plenty in others”.
-It was about the same time (1777) that E. A. W. Zimmermann, Professor
-of Mathematics at Brunswick, published a quarto in Latin, entitled
-_Specimen Zoologiæ Geographicæ Quadrupedum_, “with a most curious
-map”, says Pennant, “in which is given the name of every animal in
-its proper climate, so that a view of the whole quadruped creation is
-placed before one’s eyes, in a manner perfectly new and instructive”.
-It was wonderful then, but the map in question looks commonplace enough
-nowadays.
-
-Peter Simon Pallas (1741-1811) was a student of medicine and natural
-science, and did good work as a systematic and anatomical zoologist.
-He was the first, we believe, to express the relationships of animals
-in a genealogical tree, but his interest for us here lies in his
-zoological exploration of Russia and Siberia, the results of which
-are embodied in a series of bulky volumes, admirable in their careful
-thoroughness. We rank him rather as one of the forerunners of Humboldt
-than as a zoologist, for his services to ethnology and geology were of
-great importance. He pondered over the results of his explorations, and
-many of his questionings in regard to geographical distribution, the
-influence of climate, the variation of animals, and similar problems,
-were prophetic of the light which was soon to dawn on biological
-science.
-
-Alexander von Humboldt (1769-1859) was undoubtedly one of the greatest
-naturalists of the century which his life well nigh covered. Geologist,
-botanist, zoologist, and more, he was almost the last of the all-round
-naturalists. In this indeed lay his weakness as well as his strength,
-for great breadth of view is apt to imply a lack of precision as to
-details. In boyhood, “when life”, as he says, “appears an unlimited
-horizon”, he had strong desires after travel, which were in part
-gratified by excursions with George Forster and by Swiss explorations
-with the sagacious old geographer Leopold von Buch. These, however,
-only whetted his enthusiasm for journeys with a larger radius. At
-length, after many discouragements, he sailed in 1799 from Corunna,
-with Aimé Bonpland as companion, and spent five years in exploring the
-equinoctial regions of the New World. The full record of his voyage
-one cannot be expected to read, for there are about thirty volumes of
-it in the complete edition, but what we should all know is Humboldt’s
-_Personal Narrative_, in which the chief results of his explorations
-are charmingly set forth. Later in life (1829) he went with Ehrenberg
-and Rose to North Asia, and his crowning work was the publication of
-_Cosmos_ (1845-58), which originated in a series of lectures delivered
-in the University of Berlin. In front of that building his statue now
-stands, along with that of his not less famous brother Wilhelm.
-
-We think of Humboldt not so much as an early explorer of tropical
-America, nor because he described the habits of the condor and made
-observations on electric eels, nor because he furnished Cuvier and
-Latreille with many new specimens, but rather as a magnificent type
-of the naturalist-traveller, observant, widely interested, and
-thoughtful, who pointed forward to Darwin in the success with which
-he realized the complexity of inter-relations in nature. Many a
-traveller, even among his contemporaries, discovered more new plants
-and animals than the author of _Cosmos_, but none approached him as
-an all-round naturalist, able to look out on all orders of facts with
-keenly intelligent eyes, a man, moreover, in whom devotion to science
-never dulled poetic feeling. His work is of real importance in the
-history of geographical distribution, for he endeavoured to interpret
-the peculiarities of the various faunas in connection with the peculiar
-environment of the different regions--a consideration which is at least
-an element in the solution of some of the problems of distribution. It
-is especially important in regard to plants, and one may perhaps say
-that Humboldt, by his vivid pictures of the vegetable “physiognomy” of
-different regions, and by his observations on the relations between
-climate and flora, laid the foundations of the scientific study of
-the geographical distribution of plants. We find in some of his
-_Charakterbilder_, for example in his _Views of Nature_, the prototype
-of those synthetic pictures which give Brehm’s popular lectures their
-peculiar interest and value.
-
-IV. THE SPECIALIST TYPE.--It would say little for scientific discipline
-if it were true that a man learned, let us say, in zoology, could
-spend years in a new country without having something fresh to tell us
-about matters outside of his specialism--the rocks, the plants, and
-the people. But it is not true. There have been few great travellers
-who have been narrow specialists, and one might find more than one
-case of a naturalist starting on his travels as a zoologist and
-returning an anthropologist as well. Yet it is evident enough that
-few men can be master of more than one craft. There have been few
-travellers like Humboldt, few records like Darwin’s _Voyage of the
-Beagle_ (1831-6). Hence we recognize more and more as we approach our
-own day that naturalist-travellers have been successful either as
-specialists, or, on the other hand, in so far as they have furnished
-material for generalization (Type V.). The specialism may of course
-take various forms: a journey may be undertaken by one who is purely an
-ornithologist, or it may be undertaken with one particular problem in
-view, or it may be organized, like the _Challenger_ expedition, with
-the co-operation of a number of specialists.
-
-The French took the lead in organizing zoological expeditions. As early
-as 1800 they sent out the _Géographe_, _Naturaliste_, and _Casuarina_,
-zoologically conducted by Bury de St. Vincent, Péron, and Lesueur.
-Further expeditions followed with Quoy and Gaimard, Lesson, Eydoux,
-Souleyet, Dupetit-Thouars, and others as zoological guides. The English
-whaling industry gave early opportunity to not a few naturalists; and
-it is now a long time since Hooker went with Sir James Ross on the
-South Polar expedition and Huxley went on the _Rattlesnake_ to the
-Australian Barrier Reef. The Russians were also active, one of the more
-famous travellers being Kotzebue, who was accompanied on one of his
-two voyages (1823-6) round the world by Chamisso and Eschscholtz. In
-the early part of this century the Americans were also enterprising,
-the work of Dana being perhaps the most noteworthy. It would require
-several pages to mention even the names of the naturalists who have had
-their years of wandering, and have added their pages and sketches to
-the book of the world’s fauna and flora, but such an enumeration would
-serve no useful purpose here.
-
-There is, however, one form of zoological exploration which deserves
-a chapter to itself, that is the exploration of the Deep Sea. Several
-generations of marine zoologists had been at work before a zoology of
-the deep sea was dreamed of even as a possibility. It is true that in
-1818 Sir John Ross had found a star-fish (_Astrophyton_) at a depth of
-800-1000 fathoms, but this was forgotten; and in 1841 Edward Forbes
-dredged to no purpose in fairly deep water in the Ægean Sea. Indeed
-those who thought about the great depths at all deemed it unlikely that
-there could be life there, and if it had not been for the practical
-affair of laying the ocean cables, we might possibly have been still in
-ignorance of the abyssal fauna.
-
-But the cables had to be laid--no easy task--and it became important
-to know at least the topography of the depths. Cables broke, too, and
-had to be fished up again, and when that which ran between Sardinia
-and Algiers was lifted, in 1860, from a depth of 60-1000 fathoms,
-no less than 15 different species of animals were found on it. This
-was a discovery to fire enthusiasm, and Britain led the way in
-following it up. In 1868 Wyville Thomson began his explorations on the
-_Lightning_, and proved that most of the types of backboneless animals
-were represented at depths of at least 600 fathoms. Soon followed
-the similar cruise of the _Porcupine_, famous _inter alia_ for the
-discovery of Bathybius, which many sceptics regard as a mare’s nest.
-From various quarters the quest after the deep-sea fauna began to be
-prosecuted.
-
-It is now more than a score of years since the world-famous
-_Challenger_ sailed from Portsmouth with Wyville Thomson, Moseley,
-John Murray, and Willemoes-Suhm as naturalists. During three and a
-half years the explorers cruised over 68,900 nautical miles, crossed
-the Atlantic no less than five times, reached with the long arm of the
-dredge to depths equal to reversed Himalayas, raised treasures of life
-from over 500 stations, and brought home spoils over which the savants
-of Europe have hardly ceased to be busy, and the records of which, now
-completed under Dr. Murray’s editorship, form a library of about forty
-huge volumes.
-
-The _Challenger_ expedition was important not only in itself, but in
-the wave of scientific enthusiasm which it raised. From Germany went
-forth the _Gazelle_; Norway sent the _Vöringen_ to Spitzbergen; America
-has despatched the _Tuscarora_, the _Blake_, and the _Albatross_;
-from Sweden the _Vega_ and the _Sophia_ sailed to Arctic seas: Count
-Liechtenstein’s yacht _Hertha_ explored Adria; the Prince of Monaco’s
-_Hirondelle_ darted hither and thither; the French sent forth the
-_Travailleur_ and _Talisman_; the Italians the _Vettor Pisani_ and
-_Washington_; Austria and Hungary organized the _Poli_ for work in
-the Mediterranean; the Germans again have recently specialized in
-investigating the Plankton, or surface-life of the ocean; and so, with
-a range even wider than we have indicated, the wave of enthusiasm has
-spread, one of the latest barques which it has borne being the Prince
-of Monaco’s, which was specially built for marine exploration.
-
-Specialism in travelling has, of course, gone much further. Thus to
-cite only three examples, we have Semper’s zoological work on the
-Philippines, the researches of the Sarasins in Ceylon, and the first
-results of Semon’s recent visit to Australasia, all of them passing
-far beyond records of zoological exploration into monographs on the
-structure and development of characteristic members of the fauna
-of these countries. And it is no exaggeration to say that private
-enterprise, Royal Society subsidies, British Association grants, and
-the like have sent scores of naturalists from Britain half round the
-world in order to solve special problems, as to the larva of a worm,
-for instance, or as to the bird-fauna of some little island.
-
-V. THE BIOLOGICAL TYPE. In some ways the most important scientific
-journey ever made was Darwin’s voyage on the _Beagle_. It was the
-Columbus-voyage of zoology. There is a great deal to be said for the
-_Wanderjahre_ of the old students, for to have time to think is one of
-the conditions of intellectual progress. Not that the _Beagle_ voyage
-was one of idleness, but it gave Darwin, at the age of twenty-two, a
-wealth of impressions and some measure of enforced leisure wherein
-to gloat intellectually over what he saw. He has said, indeed, that
-various sets of facts observed on his voyage, such as the aspect of the
-Galapagos Islands, started him on paths of pondering which eventually
-led to his theory of the origin of species.
-
-We take Darwin as the type of the biological, or, we may almost
-say, evolutionist travellers; but he must share this position with
-his magnanimous colleague, Alfred Russel Wallace, whose journeyings
-were more prolonged and not less fruitful. Before Darwin the
-naturalist-travellers had been, for the most part, describers,
-systematists, and analysts, and it goes without saying that such work
-is indispensable, and must continue; but in the light of the conception
-of evolution all things had become new; the present world of life was
-henceforth seen as a stage in a process, as a passing act in a drama,
-not merely as a phantasmagoria to be admired and pictured, but as a
-growth to be understood.
-
-It is within this group of biological travellers, which includes
-such men as Bates and Belt, that we must also place Brehm. For
-although he perhaps had not the firmness of grasp or the fineness of
-touch necessary for the successful handling of the more intricate
-biological problems, especially those which centre around the factors
-of evolution, he had unusual power as an observer of the habits of
-animals. His contributions, which must be judged, of course, from his
-great _Tierleben_,[A] as well as from his popular lectures, were rather
-to the old natural history than to biology in the stricter sense. His
-works show that he was as much interested in men as in beasts, that he
-was specially an ornithologist, that he was beneath the naturalist a
-sportsman; but so scores of other travellers have been. His particular
-excellence is his power of observing and picturing animal life _as
-it is lived in nature_, without taking account of which biology is a
-mockery and any theory of evolution a one-sided dogma.
-
-[A] This well-known treasure-house of Natural History appeared
-originally in 1863-69 in six big volumes, which have since increased
-to ten. Even the first edition took a foremost place among similar
-works on the Natural History of Animals. With a wealth of personal
-observation on the habits of animals in their native haunts, it
-combined the further charm of very beautiful pictorial illustration.
-
-Let us now bring together briefly the outstanding facts of this
-historical outline.
-
-In early days men followed their wandering herds or pursued their prey
-from region to region, or were driven by force of competition or of
-hunger to new lands. Many of the most eventful journeys have been among
-those which had to be taken.
-
-I. Gradually, intellectual curiosity rather than practical need became
-the prompter, and men travelled with all manner of mixed aims seeking
-what was new. When they returned they told travellers’ tales, mostly
-in as good faith as their hunting ancestors had done in the caves of
-a winter night, or as the modern traveller does after dinner still.
-We pass insensibly from Herodotus to Marco Polo, from “Sir John
-Maundeville” to Mr. X. Y. Z., whose book was published last spring.
-This is the type romantic.
-
-II. But when science shared in the renaissance there ensued the
-extraordinary industry of the encyclopædist school, with which many
-naturalist-travellers were associated. Some of these were great
-men--perhaps Gesner was greatest of all--but all had the defects of
-their qualities. They gathered into stackyards both wheat and tares,
-and seldom found time to thrash. The type survives afield in the mere
-collector, and its degenerate sedentary representatives are called
-compilers.
-
-III. Just as Buffon represents the climax of the encyclopædists, and
-is yet something more, for he thrashed his wheat, so Humboldt, while
-as ambitious as any encyclopædist traveller, transcended them all by
-vitalizing the wealth of impressions which he gathered. He was _the_
-general naturalist-traveller, who took all nature for his province, and
-does not seem to have been embarrassed. Of successful representatives
-of this type there are few, since Darwin perhaps none.
-
-IV. Meanwhile Linnæus had brought order, Cuvier had founded his school
-of anatomists, Haller had re-organized physiology, the microscope
-had deepened analysis, and zoology came of age as a specialism.
-Henceforth travellers’ tales were at a discount; even a Humboldt might
-be contradicted, and platitudinarian narratives of a voyage round the
-world ceased to find the publisher sympathetic or the public appetized.
-The naturalist-traveller was now a zoologist, or a botanist, or an
-ornithologist, or an entomologist; at any rate, a specialist. But it
-was sometimes found profitable to work in companies, as in the case of
-the _Challenger_ expedition.
-
-V. Lastly, we find that on the travellers, too, “evolution” cast its
-spell, and we have Darwin and Wallace as the types of the biological
-travellers, whose results go directly towards the working out of a
-cosmology. From Bates and Belt and Brehm there is a long list down
-to Dr. Hickson, _The Naturalist in Celebes_, and Mr. Hudson, _The
-Naturalist in La Plata_. Not, of course, that most are not specialists,
-but the particular interest of their work is biological or bionomical.
-
-I have added to this essay a list of some of the most important works
-of the more recent naturalist-travellers with which I am directly
-acquainted, being convinced that it is with these that the general, and
-perhaps also the professional student of natural history should begin,
-as it is with them that his studies must also end. For, not only do
-they introduce us, in a manner usually full of interest, to the nature
-of animal life, but they lead us to face one of the ultimate problems
-of biology--the evolution of faunas.
-
-
-II.
-
-Alfred Edmund Brehm (1829-1884) was born at Unter-Renthendorf in
-Sachsen-Weimar, where his father--an accomplished ornithologist--was
-pastor. Brought up among birds, learning to watch from his earliest
-boyhood, accompanying his father in rambles through the Thuringian
-forest, questioning and being questioned about all the sights and
-sounds of the woods, listening to the experts who came to see the
-famous collection in the _Pfarr-haus_, and to argue over questions of
-species with the kindly pastor, young Brehm was almost bound to become
-a naturalist. And while the father stuffed his birds in the evenings
-the mother read aloud from Goethe and Schiller, and her poetic feeling
-was echoed in her son. Yet, so crooked are life’s ways, the youth
-became an architect’s apprentice, and acted as such for four years!
-
-But an opportunity presented itself which called him, doubtless most
-willing, from the desk and workshop. Baron John Wilhelm von Müller, a
-keen sportsman and lover of birds, sought an assistant to accompany him
-on an ornithological expedition to Africa, and with him the youth, not
-yet out of his teens, set forth in 1847. It was a great opportunity,
-but the price paid for it was heavy, for Brehm did not see his home
-again for full five years, and was forced to bear strains, to incur
-responsibilities, and to suffer privations, which left their mark on
-him for life. Only those who know the story of his African journeys,
-and what African travel may be with repeated fevers and inconsiderately
-crippled resources, can adequately appreciate the restraint which Brehm
-displays in those popular lectures, here translated, where there is so
-much of everything but himself.
-
-After he returned, in 1852, rich in spoils and experience, if otherwise
-poor, he spent several sessions at the universities of Jena and Vienna.
-Though earnestly busy in equipping himself for further work, he was not
-too old to enjoy the pleasures of a student life. When he took his
-doctor’s degree he published an account of his travels (_Reiseskizzen
-aus Nordostafrica._ Jena, 1855, 3 vols.).
-
-After a zoological holiday in Spain with his like-minded brother
-Reinhold--a physician in Madrid--he settled for a time in Leipzig,
-writing for the famous “_Gartenlaube_”, co-operating with Rossmässler
-in bringing out _Die Tiere des Waldes_, expressing his very self in his
-_Bird-Life_ (1861), and teaching in the schools. It was during this
-period that he visited Lapland, of whose bird-bergs the first lecture
-gives such a vivid description. In 1861 he married Matthilde Reiz, who
-proved herself the best possible helpmeet.
-
-In 1862, Brehm went as scientific guide on an excursion to Abyssinia
-undertaken by the Duke of Coburg-Gotha, and subsequently published a
-characteristic account of his observations _Ergebnisse einer Reise nach
-Habesch_: Results of a Journey to Abyssinia (Hamburg, 1863). On his
-return he began his world-famous _Tierleben_ (Animal Life), which has
-been a treasure-house to so many naturalists. With the collaboration
-of Professors Taschenberg and Oscar Schmidt, he completed the first
-edition of this great work, in six volumes, in 1869.
-
-Meanwhile he had gone to Hamburg as Director of the Zoological Gardens
-there, but the organizing work seems to have suited him ill, and he
-soon resigned. With a freer hand, he then undertook the establishment
-of the famous Berlin Aquarium, in which he partly realized his dream of
-a microcosmic living museum of nature. But, apart from his actual work,
-the business-relations were ever irksome, and in 1874 he was forced by
-ill-health and social friction to abandon his position.
-
-After recovery from serious illness he took up his rôle as popular
-lecturer and writer, and as such he had many years of happy success. A
-book on Cage Birds (1872-1876), and a second edition of the _Tierleben_
-date from this period, which was also interrupted by his Siberian
-journeys (1876) and by numerous ornithological expeditions, for
-instance to Hungary and Spain, along with the Crown Prince Rudolph
-of Austria. But hard work, family sorrows, and finally, perhaps, the
-strain of a long lecturing tour in America aged Brehm before his time,
-and he died in 1884.
-
-For these notes I am indebted to a delightful appreciation of Brehm
-which Ernest Krause has written in introduction to the third edition
-of the _Tierleben_, edited by Pechuel-Loesche, and as regards
-the naturalist’s character I can only refer to that essay. As to
-his published work, however, every naturalist knows at least the
-_Tierleben_, and on that a judgment may be safely based. It is a
-monumental work on the habits of animals, founded in great part on
-personal observation, which was always keen and yet sympathetic. It is
-a classic on the natural history of animals, and readers of Darwin will
-remember how the master honoured it.
-
-Doubtless Brehm had the defects of his qualities. He was, it is said,
-too generous to animals, and sometimes read the man into the beast
-unwarrantably. But that is an anthropomorphism which easily besets the
-sympathetic naturalist. He was sometimes extravagant and occasionally
-credulous. He did not exactly grip some of the subjects he tackled,
-such as, if I must specify, what he calls “the monkey-question”.
-
-It is frankly allowed that he was no modern biologist, erudite as
-regards evolution-factors, nor did he profess to attempt what is called
-zoological analysis, and what is often mere necrology, but his merit
-is that he had seen more than most of us, and had seen, above all, the
-naturalist’s supreme vision--the vibrating web of life. And he would
-have us see it also.
-
-
-III.
-
-The success of the pictures which Brehm has given us--of bird-bergs
-and tundra, of steppes and desert, of river fauna and tropical
-forest--raises the wish that they had been complete enough to embrace
-the whole world. As this ideal, so desirable both from an educational
-and an artistic standpoint, has not been realized by any one volume,
-we have ventured to insert here a list of some more or less analogous
-English works by naturalist-travellers, sportsmen, and others--
-
- Adams, A. Leith. _Notes of a Naturalist in the Nile Valley and Malta_
- (Edinburgh, 1870).
-
- Agassiz, A. _Three Cruises of the “Blake”_ (Boston and New York,
- 1888).
-
- Baker, S. W. _Wild Beasts and their Ways: Reminiscences of Europe,
- Asia, Africa, and America_ (London, 1890).
-
- Bates, H. W. _Naturalist on the Amazons_ (6th Ed. London, 1893).
-
- Belt, T. _Naturalist in Nicaragua_ (2nd Ed. London, 1888).
-
- Bickmore, A. S. _Travels in the East Indian Archipelago_ (1868).
-
- Blanford, W. T. _Observations on the Geology and Zoology of Abyssinia_
- (London, 1870).
-
- Bryden, H. A. _Gun and Camera in Southern Africa_ (London, 1893).
- _Kloof and Karroo_ (1889).
-
- Burnaby, F. _A Ride to Khiva_ (8th Ed. London, 1877).
-
- Buxton, E. N. _Short Stalks, or Hunting Camps, North, South, East, and
- West_ (London, 1893).
-
- Chapman, A. and C. M. Buck. _Wild Spain_ (London, 1892).
-
- Cunningham, R. O. _Notes on the Natural History of the Straits of
- Magellan_ (Edinburgh, 1871).
-
- Darwin, C. _Voyage of the “Beagle”_ (1844, New Ed. London, 1890).
-
- Distant, W. L. _A Naturalist in the Transvaal_ (London, 1892).
-
- Drummond, H. _Tropical Africa_ (London, 1888).
-
- Du Chaillu, P. B. _Explorations and Adventures in Equatorial Africa_
- (London, 1861). _Ashango Land_ (1867).
-
- Eha. _A Naturalist on the Prowl, or in the Jungle_ (London, 1894).
-
- Forbes, H. O. _A Naturalist’s Wanderings in the Eastern Archipelago_
- (London, 1885).
-
- Guillemard. _Cruise of the “Marchesa”_ (London, 1886).
-
- Heilprin, A. _The Bermuda Islands_ (Philadelphia, 1889).
-
- Hickson, S. J. _A Naturalist in North Celebes_ (London, 1889).
-
- Holub, Emil. _Seven Years in South Africa_ (1881).
-
- Hudson, W. H. _The Naturalist in La Plata_ (London, 1892). _Idle Days
- in Patagonia_ (London, 1893).
-
- Humboldt, A. von. _Personal Narrative of Travels to the Equinoctial
- Regions of America._ _Views of Nature_ (Trans. 1849). _Cosmos_ (Trans.
- 1849-58).
-
- Johnston, H. H. _Kilima Ndjaro Expedition_ (1885).
-
- Kingsley, C. _At last! A Christmas in the West Indies_ (1889).
-
- Lumholtz. _Among Cannibals_ (London, 1889).
-
- Moseley, H. N. _Notes by a Naturalist on the “Challenger”_ (London,
- 1879. New Ed. 1892).
-
- Nordenskiöld, A. E. _Voyage of the “Vega”_ (London, 1881).
-
- Oates, F., Ed. by C. G. Oates. _Matabele Land, the Victoria Falls, a
- Naturalist’s Wanderings in the Interior of South Africa_ (1881).
-
- Phillipps-Wolley. _Big-Game Shooting_ (Badminton Libr. London, 1893).
-
- Rodway, J. _In the Guiana Forest_ (London, 1894). _British Guiana_
- (London, 1893).
-
- Roosevelt, Th., and G. B. Grinell. _American Big-Game Hunting_
- (Edinburgh, 1893).
-
- Schweinfurth, G. _The Heart of Africa_ (1878).
-
- Seebohm, H. _Siberia in Europe_ (London, 1880), _Siberia in Asia_
- (London, 1882).
-
- Selous, F. C. _A Hunter’s Wanderings_ (1881). _Travel and Adventure in
- South-East Africa_ (London, 1893).
-
- Sibree, Rev. J. _The Great African Island_ (1879).
-
- Solymos, B. (B. E. Falkenberg). _Desert Life_ (London, 1880).
-
- Stanley, H. M. _How I Found Livingstone_ (1872, New Ed. 1885). _The
- Congo_ (1885). _Through the Dark Continent_ (1890). _In Darkest
- Africa_ (1890).
-
- Swayne, H. G. C. _Seventeen Trips through Somaliland_ (London, 1895).
-
- Tennent, J. E. _Natural History of Ceylon_ (London, 1861).
-
- Thomson, Wyville. _The Depths of the Sea_ (London, 1873). _Narrative
- of the Voyage of the “Challenger”_ (1885). And, in this connection,
- see S. J. Hickson. _Fauna of the Deep Sea_ (London, 1894).
-
- Tristram, H. B. _The Land of Israel_ (1876). _The Land of Moab_
- (1873). _The Great Sahara_ (1860).
-
- Wallace, A. R. _Malay Archipelago_ (London 1869). _Tropical Nature_
- (1878). _Island Life_ (1880). _Travels on the Amazon and Rio Negro_
- (1889).
-
- Waterton, Ch. _Wanderings in South America_ (Ed. by J. G. Wood, 1878).
-
- Woodford, C. M. _Naturalist among the Head-hunters_ (London, 1890).
-
-
-
-
-FROM
-
-NORTH POLE TO EQUATOR.
-
-
-THE BIRD-BERGS OF LAPLAND.
-
-
-“When the Creator of the worlds had made the earth, best loved of
-all, and was rejoicing in His perfect work, the devil was seized with
-a desire to bring it all to nought. Not yet banished from heaven, he
-lived among the archangels in the abodes of the blessed. Up to the
-seventh heaven he flew, and, seizing a great stone, hurled it with
-might down on the earth exulting in the beauty of its youth. But the
-Creator saw the ruthless deed, and sent one of His archangels to avert
-the evil. The angel flew even more swiftly than the stone to the earth
-beneath, and succeeded in saving the land. The huge stone plunged
-thundering into the sea, and hissing waves flooded all the shores for
-many a mile. The fall shattered the crust of the stone, and thousands
-of splinters sank on either side, some disappearing into the depths,
-and some rising above the surface, bare and bleak like the rock itself.
-Then God took pity, and in His infinite goodness resolved to clothe
-even this naked rock with life. But the fruitful soil was all but
-exhausted in His hand; there remained scarce enough to lay a little
-here and there upon the stone.”
-
-So runs an ancient legend still current among the Lapps. The stone
-which the devil threw is Scandinavia; the splinters which fell into
-the sea on either side are the skerries which form a richly varied
-wreath around the peninsula. The rents and cracks in the rock are the
-fjords and the valleys; the sprinkling of life-giving soil which fell
-from the gracious Creator’s hand forms the few fertile tracts which
-Scandinavia possesses. To appreciate the full depth and meaning of
-the childish story one must one’s self have visited Scandinavia, and
-especially Norway, have steered a boat among the skerries, and have
-sailed round the country from the extreme south to the farthest north.
-Marvellous, indeed, is the country; marvellous are its fjords; still
-more marvellous is the encircling wreath of islands and reefs.
-
-Scandinavia is an alpine country like Switzerland and the Tyrol, yet
-it differs in a hundred ways from both of these. Like our Alps it has
-lofty mountains, glaciers, torrents, clear, still alpine lakes, dark
-pine and fir forests low down in the gorges, bright green birch woods
-on the heights, far-stretching moors--or more strictly tundras--on the
-broad shoulders of the mountains, log-huts on the slopes, and the huts
-of the cowherds in the upland valleys. And yet all is very different
-from our Alps, as is obvious to anyone who has seen both. The reason
-of this difference lies in the wonderful way in which two such grand
-and impressive features of scenery as lofty mountains and the sea are
-associated and harmonized.
-
-The general aspect of Scandinavia is at once grave and gay. Stern
-grandeur and soft beauty go hand in hand; gloom alternates with
-cheerfulness; with the dead and disquieting is linked the living and
-exhilarating. Black masses of rock rear themselves perpendicularly
-out of the sea, rise directly from the deeply-cut fjords, and, riven
-and cleft, tower precipitously upwards and lean threateningly over.
-On their heads lie masses of ice stretching for miles, covering
-whole districts and scaring away all life save the torrents to which
-they themselves have given birth. These torrents spread themselves
-everywhere in ribbons of silver over the dark masses, and not only
-give pleasure to the eye, but murmur to the ear the sublime melody of
-the mountains. They rush down through every cleft to the depths below,
-they burst forth from every gorge, or plunge in mad career from rock
-to rock, forming waterfall after waterfall, and awakening echoes from
-the farthest mountain sides. These rushing mountain-streams which hurry
-down to the valley through every channel, the gleaming bands of water
-on every wall of rock, the ascending smoke-like spray which betrays
-the most secluded falls--these call forth life even in the most dread
-wilderness, in places where otherwise nought can be seen but rocks and
-sky--and they are most truly characteristic of the scenery of the
-interior.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 1.--Scene on the Sogne Fjord, Norway.]
-
-But, majestic as this beauty is, bewildering and overwhelming as are
-the fjords with their precipitous walls, their ravines and valleys,
-headlands and peaks, they are yet less characteristic than the islands
-and skerries lying out in the sea, stretching from the south of the
-country up to the far north, and forming a maze of bays, sounds, and
-straits such as can hardly be seen elsewhere in the wide world.
-
-The larger islands reproduce more or less faithfully the characters
-of the mainland; the smaller ones and the skerries present, under all
-circumstances, an aspect of their own. But, as one travels towards the
-north, this aspect changes more or less with every degree of latitude.
-Like the sea, the islands lack the richness of the south, but are,
-nevertheless, by no means devoid of beauty. Especially in the midnight
-hours, when the low midsummer sun stands large and blood-red on the
-horizon, its veiled brilliance reflected alike from the ice-covered
-mountain-tops and from the sea, they have an irresistible charm. This
-is enhanced by the homesteads which are dotted everywhere over the
-landscape--dwellings built of wood and roofed with turf, glowing in
-a strange, blood-red colour which contrasts sharply with the green
-turf roof, the black darkness of the adjacent mountain-side, and the
-ice-blue of the glaciers in the background of the picture.
-
-The southerner remarks, with some surprise, that these homesteads
-become larger, handsomer, and more roomy the farther north he travels;
-that, though no longer surrounded by fields, but at the most by small
-gardens, they far excel in size and equipment the hut-like buildings
-of southern Scandinavia; and that the most pretentious of all may
-be on comparatively small islands, where the rocks are covered only
-with turf, and where not even a little garden can be won from the
-inhospitable soil.
-
-The seeming riddle is solved when we remember that in Norland and
-Finland it is not the land but the sea that is ploughed; that there
-men do not sow and wield the scythe in summer, but reap in midwinter
-without having sowed; that it is in the months in which the long night
-holds its undisputed sway, when the light of the sun has given place to
-that of the moon, and the rosy flush of dawn and sunset to the glow of
-the Northern Lights, that the dwellers in the far north gather in the
-rich harvest of the sea.
-
-About the time of the autumnal equinox strong men are preparing
-themselves all along the coasts of Norway to secure the harvest of
-the North. Every town, every village, every hamlet sends one or more
-well-manned ships to the islands and skerries within the Polar Circle,
-to anchor for months in every suitable bay. Making the ships or the
-homesteads on shore their head-quarters, the fishermen proceed to
-gather in the abundant booty. In the height of summer the whole country
-is still and deserted, but in winter the bays, islands, and sounds are
-teeming with busy men, and laborious hands are toiling night and day.
-Spacious as the dwelling-houses appear, they cannot contain the crowds
-of people who have assembled; many must remain in the ships, or even
-seek a rough-and-ready shelter in rudely-constructed turf-covered huts
-on the shore.
-
-The bustle is at its height about the time of the winter solstice,
-when we celebrate our Christmas, and the Norsemen their Yule festival.
-For weeks the sea has been yielding its treasures. Impelled by the
-strongest impulse which moves living beings, guided by irresistible
-instinct to sow the seed of future generations, there rise from the
-depths of the sea innumerable shoals of fishes--cod, haddock, and
-the like. They ascend to the upper strata of the water, approach the
-coasts, and throng into the straits, sounds, and fjords in such numbers
-that they cover the surface of the sea for many miles. Animated,
-almost maddened, by one impulse, the fish swim so thickly that the
-boat has literally to force a way among them, that the overweighted
-net baffles the combined strength of the fishermen or breaks under
-its burden, that an oar placed upright among the densely packed crowd
-of swimmers remains for a few moments in its position before falling
-to one side.[1] Wherever the rocky islands are washed bare by the
-raging high tides, from the mean tide-mark to the lower edge of the
-turf which covers their summits, the naked rocks are covered by an
-unbroken ring of fish split open and laid out to dry, while trestles
-are also erected that other fish may be exposed for the same purpose to
-the sharp and drying air. From time to time the rocks and frames are
-cleared of dried fish, which are packed in bundles and stored in sheds,
-but only that room may be found for others which in the meantime have
-been caught and prepared.
-
-For months the bustle continues, and the traffic is uninterrupted; for
-months the North continues to exchange its treasures with the South.
-Then in the days when about noon a clear light in the south heralds
-the coming of the sun still hidden, or when the first rays of sunlight
-fall for a brief space upon the land, the rich catch comes gradually to
-an end. The dried cod and ling are carried from the storing sheds to
-the ships, all available space from keel to deck is filled up, and the
-fishermen prepare to journey homewards, or abroad into the wide world.
-One ship after another hoists its brown-edged sails and steers away.
-
-The North becomes quieter again, more deserted the land, desolate
-the sea. At last, by the time of the spring equinox, all the migrant
-fishermen have left the fishing grounds, and all the fish have returned
-to the depths of the sea. But the sea is already sending forth other
-children to people afresh the straits and sounds, and along with them
-the skerries and islands; and soon from those same cliffs, at whose
-base there was but lately all the bustle of the winter, millions of
-bright bird eyes look down upon the waves.
-
-It is a deeply-affecting trait in the life of all true sea-birds that
-only two causes can move them to visit the land: the joyous spring-time
-sense of new-awakening love, and the mournful foreboding of approaching
-death. Not even Winter with its long night, its cold, and its storms
-can drive them to the land; they are proof against all the terrors of
-the North, and seek their food upon or under the waves; not even the
-threatening jaws of voracious fish scare them ashore. They may alight
-occasionally, but only for a short time, often on a solitary island in
-the sea, to oil their feathers more thoroughly than can be done in the
-water. But when, with the sun’s first brightness, love stirs in their
-breasts, all, old and young alike, though they may have to swim and fly
-thousands of miles, strive to reach the place where they themselves
-first saw the light of day. And if, in mid-winter, months after the
-breeding-places have been left desolate, a sea-bird feels death in his
-heart, he hastens as long as his strength holds out, that he may, if
-possible, die in the place where he was cradled.
-
-The annual assembling of innumerable birds at the breeding-places fills
-these for several months with a most marvellous life. The communities
-differ like the sea-birds themselves, and the places, or _bergs_ (as
-the Norsemen call them), which they people vary also. While some choose
-only those reefs which rise just above the high-tide mark, and bear
-no more vegetation than is enough to provide scanty material for the
-nest hollowed out in the sea-weed heaps, others select islands which
-rear themselves straight and steep for several hundred feet above the
-sea, and are either rich in shelves, ledges, cavities, fissures, and
-other hiding-places, or are covered by a thick layer of peat-like
-plant remains. The Norseman calls the lower islets ‘eider-holms’ (or
-eider bird-hills, as the German would say), for they are the favourite
-brooding-places of what is to him the most valuable, and, what is the
-same thing, the most useful of all sea-birds. The higher islands which
-rise precipitously from the sea, and are chiefly peopled by auks and
-gulls, are included under the general name of _bird-bergs_.
-
-The observant naturalist is of course tempted to study and describe in
-detail each individual brooding bird of the sea, but the rich variety
-of the inhabitants of the bird-bergs of the far north and the variety
-of their habits impose certain limits. Similarly, lest I exceed the
-time allowed to me, I must refrain from giving detailed pictures of
-the habits of all the berg birds, though I think it well at least
-to outline those of a few in order to bring into prominence some of
-the chief characteristics of sea-bird life. Selection is difficult,
-but one, at any rate--the eider-duck, which returns every spring to
-these islands, and helps to beautify them and their surroundings so
-marvellously--must not be left undescribed.
-
-Three species of these beautiful ducks inhabit or visit European
-shores; one of these, the true eider-bird, is to be found every
-summer, even on the north-western islands of Germany, especially
-Sylt. Its plumage is a faithful mirror of the northern sea. Black and
-red, ash-gray, ice-green, white, brown, and yellow are the colours
-harmoniously blended in it. The eider-duck proper is the least
-beautiful species, but it is nevertheless a handsome bird. The neck and
-back, a band over the wings, and a spot on the sides of the body are
-white as the crests of the waves; throat and crop have a white ground
-faintly flushed with rose-colour as though the glow of the midnight sun
-had been caught there; a belt on the cheeks is delicate green like the
-ice of the glacier; breast and belly, wings and tail, the lower part of
-the back and the rump are black as the depths of the sea itself. This
-splendour belongs only to the male; the female, like all ducks, wears a
-more modest yet not less pleasing garb, which I may call a house-dress.
-The prevailing rust-coloured ground, shading more or less into brown,
-is marked with longitudinal and transverse spots, lines and spirals,
-with a beauty and variety that words cannot adequately describe.
-
-No other species of duck is so thoroughly a child of the sea as
-the eider-duck; no species waddles more clumsily on land, or flies
-less gracefully, but none swims more rapidly or dives more deftly
-and deeply. In search of food it sinks fully fifty yards below the
-surface of the sea, and is said to be able to remain five minutes--an
-extraordinarily long time--under water. Before the beginning of the
-brooding season it does not leave the open sea at all, or does so very
-rarely; following a whim rather than driven by necessity. Towards the
-end of winter the flocks in which they congregate break up into pairs,
-and only those males who have not succeeded in securing mates swim
-about in little groups. Between two mates the most perfect unanimity
-reigns. One will, undoubtedly that of the duck, determines the actions
-of both. If she rises from the surface of the water to fly for a
-hundred yards through the air, the drake follows her; if she dives
-into the sea, he disappears directly afterwards; wherever she turns
-he follows faithfully; whatever she does seems to express his wishes.
-The pair still live out on the sea, though only where the depth is not
-greater than twenty-five fathoms, and where edible mussels and other
-bivalves are found in rich abundance on the rocks and the sea-bottom.
-These molluscs often form the sole food of eider-ducks, and to procure
-them they may have to dive to considerable depths. But it is the
-abundance of this food which preserves the eiders from the scarcity
-from which so many other species of duck often suffer severely.
-
-In April, or at the latest in the beginning of May, the pairs approach
-nearer and nearer the fringe of reefs and the shores of the mainland.
-Maternal cares are stirring in the breast of the duck, and to these
-everything else is subordinated. Out at sea the pair were so shy that
-they never allowed a ship or boat to get near them, and feared man,
-if he ever happened to approach them, more than any other living
-creature; now in the neighbourhood of the islands their behaviour
-changes entirely. Obeying her maternal instincts, and these only, the
-duck swims to one of the brooding-places, and paying no attention to
-the human inhabitants, waddles on to the land. Anxiously the drake
-follows her, not without uttering his warning “Ahua, ahua”, not without
-visible hesitation, for every now and then he remains behind as if
-reflecting for a while, and then swims forward once more. The duck,
-however, pays no heed to all this. Careless of the whole world around
-her, she wanders over the island seeking a suitable brooding-place.
-Being somewhat fastidious, she is not satisfied with the first good
-heap of sea-weed cast up by the tide, with the low juniper-bush whose
-branches straggling on the ground offer safe concealment, with the
-half-broken box which the owner of the island has placed as a shelter
-for her, or with the heaps of twigs and brushwood which he has gathered
-to entice her, but approaches the owner’s dwelling as fearlessly as if
-she were a domestic bird. She enters it, walks about the floor, follows
-the housewife through rooms and kitchen, and capriciously selects, it
-may be, the inside of the oven as her resting-place, thereby forcing
-the housewife to have her bread baked for weeks on another island.
-With manifest alarm the faithful drake follows her as far as he dares;
-but when she, in his opinion, so far neglects all considerations of
-safety as to dwell under the same roof with human beings, he no longer
-tries to struggle against her wayward whim, but leaves her to follow
-it alone, and flies out to the safety of the sea, there longingly
-to await her daily visit. His mate is in no wise distracted by his
-departure, but proceeds to collect twigs and brushwood--a task in
-which she willingly accepts the Norseman’s help--and to pile up into a
-heap her nest materials, which include sea-weed as well as twigs. She
-hollows out a trough with her wings and makes it circular by turning
-round and round in it with her smooth breast. Then she sets about
-procuring the lining and incorporating it with the nest. Thinking only
-of her brood, she plucks the incomparably soft down from her breast and
-makes with it a sort of felt, which not only lines the whole hollow
-but forms such a thick border at its upper edge that it serves as a
-cover to protect the eggs from cold when the mother leaves the nest.
-Before the work of lining is quite completed, the duck begins laying
-her comparatively small, smooth-shelled, clouded-green or grayish-green
-eggs. The clutch consists of from six to eight, seldom more or fewer.
-
-This is the time for which the Norseman has been waiting, for it was
-self-interest that prompted all his hospitality to the bird. The host
-now becomes the robber. Ruthlessly he takes the eggs and the nest with
-its inner lining of costly down. From twenty-four to thirty nests yield
-about two pounds of down, worth at least thirty shillings on the spot.
-This price is sufficient explanation of the Norseman’s way of acting.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 2.--Colony of Eider-ducks.]
-
-With a heavy heart the duck sees the downfall of her hopes for that
-year. Perturbed and frightened, she flies out to sea, where her mate
-awaits her. Whether he takes the opportunity of repeating his warnings
-more urgently I cannot say, but I can testify that he very soon
-succeeds in consoling her. The joy and spirit of the spring-time still
-live in the hearts of both; and in a very few days our duck waddles on
-land again as though nothing had happened, to build a second nest! This
-time she probably avoids her former position and contents herself with
-the first available heap of tangle which is not fully taken up by other
-birds. Again she digs and rounds a hollow; again she begins to probe
-among her plumage in order to procure the lining of down which seems
-to her indispensable. But, however much she exert herself, stretching
-her neck and twisting it in intricate snake-like curves, she can find
-no more. Yet when was a mother, even a duck mother, at a loss when
-her children had to be provided for? Our duck is certainly at none.
-She herself has no more down, but her mate bears it untouched on his
-breast and back. Now it is his turn. And though he may perhaps rebel,
-having a lively recollection of former years, he is the husband and
-she the wife, therefore he must obey. Without compunction the anxious
-mother rifles his plumage, and in a few hours, or at most within two
-days, she has plucked him as bare as herself. That the drake, after
-such treatment, should fly out to the open sea as soon as possible, and
-associate for some months only with his fellows, troubling himself not
-in the least about his mate and her coming brood, seems to me quite
-comprehensible. And when, as happens on every nesting island, a drake
-is to be seen standing by the brooding duck, I think he must be one who
-has not yet been plucked![2]
-
-Our duck broods once more assiduously. And now her house-dress is
-seen to be the only suitable, I might say the only possible, garment
-which she could wear. Among the tangle which surrounds the nest she
-is completely hidden even from the sharp eyes of the falcon or the
-sea-eagle. Not only the general colouring, but every point and every
-line is so harmonious with the dried sea-weed, that the brooding-bird,
-when she has drawn down her neck and slightly spread out her wings,
-seems to become almost a part of her surroundings. Many a time it has
-happened that I, searching with the practised eye of a sportsman and
-naturalist, have walked across eider-holms and only become aware of
-the brooding duck at my feet, when she warned me off by pecking at my
-shoes. No one who knows the self-forgetting devotion with which the
-birds brood will be surprised that it is possible to come so near an
-eider-duck sitting in her nest, but it may well excite the astonishment
-of even an experienced naturalist to learn that the duck suffers one to
-handle the eggs under her breast without flying away, and that she does
-not even allow herself to be diverted from her brooding when one lifts
-her from the nest and places her upon it again, or lays her on the
-ground at some little distance in order to see the charmingly quaint
-way in which she waddles back to her brood.
-
-The eider-duck’s maternal self-surrender and desire for offspring show
-themselves in another way. Every female eider-duck, perhaps every duck
-of whatever species, desires not only the bliss of bearing children,
-but wishes to have as many nestlings as possible under her motherly
-eye. Prompted by this desire, she has no scruples in robbing, whenever
-possible, other eiders brooding near her. Devoted as she is in her
-brooding, she must nevertheless forsake her nest once a day to procure
-her own food, and to cleanse, oil, and smooth her plumage, which
-suffers considerably from the heat developed in brooding. Throwing a
-suspicious glance at her neighbours to right and left, she rises early
-in the forenoon, after having perhaps suffered the pangs of hunger
-for some hours, stands beside her nest and carefully spreads the
-surrounding fringe of down with her bill, so that it forms a concealing
-and protecting cover for the eggs. Then she flies quickly out to the
-sea, dives repeatedly, and hastily fills crop and gullet to the full
-with mussels, bathes, cleans, and oils herself, and returns to land,
-drying and smoothing her feathers continuously as she walks towards
-her nest. Both her neighbours sit seemingly as innocent as before,
-but in the interval a theft has been perpetrated by at least one of
-them. As soon as the first had flown away, one of them rose from her
-nest, and lifting the cover of her neighbour’s nest, quickly rolled
-one, two, three, or four eggs with her feet into her own nest, then
-carefully replaced the cover, and resumed her place, rejoicing over her
-unrighteously-increased clutch. The returning duck probably notices the
-trick that has been played, but she makes not the slightest sign, and
-calmly settles down to brood again as though she thought, “Just wait,
-neighbour, you must go to the sea, too, and then I’ll do to you what
-you have done to me”. As a matter of fact, the eggs of several nests
-standing close together are shifted continuously from one to another.
-Whether it is her own or another’s children that come to life under her
-motherly breast seems to matter very little to the eider-duck--they are
-children, at any rate!
-
-The duck sits about twenty-six days before the eggs are hatched. The
-Norseman, who goes to work intelligently, lets her do as she pleases
-this time, and not only refrains from disturbing her, but assists her
-as far as possible by keeping away from the island all enemies who
-might harass the bird. He knows his ducks, if not personally, at least
-to this extent, that he can tell about what time this or that one will
-have finished brooding, and will set out with her ducklings to seek
-the safety of the sea. The journey thither brings sudden destruction
-to many unwatched young eider-ducks. Not only the falcons breeding
-on or visiting the island, but even more the ravens, the skuas, and
-the larger gulls watch for the first appearance of the ducklings,
-attack them on the way, and carry off one or more of them. The owner
-of the island seeks to prevent this in a manner which enables one
-to appreciate how thoroughly the duck, ordinarily so wild and shy,
-has become a domestic bird during the breeding season. Every morning
-towards the end of the brooding-time he inspects the island in order
-to help the mothers and to gather in a second harvest of down. On his
-back hangs a hamper, and on one arm a wide hand-basket. Going from
-nest to nest he lifts each duck, and looks to see whether the young
-are hatched and are sufficiently dry. If this be the case, he packs
-the whole waddling company in his hand-basket, and with adroit grasp
-divests the nest of its downy lining, which he throws into his hamper,
-and proceeds to another nest. Trustfully the duck waddles after him
-or rather after her piping offspring, and a second, third, tenth nest
-is thus emptied, in fact the work goes on as long as the basket will
-accommodate more nestlings, and one mother after another joins the
-procession, exchanging opinions with her companions in suffering on
-the way. Arrived at the sea, the man turns the basket upside down and
-simply shakes the whole crowd of ducklings into the water. Immediately
-all the ducks throw themselves after their piping young ones; coaxing,
-calling, displaying all manner of maternal tenderness, they swim about
-among the flock, each trying to collect as many ducklings as possible
-behind herself. With obvious pride one swims about with a long train
-behind her, but soon a second, less favoured, crosses the procession
-and seeks to detach as many of the ducklings as she can, and again a
-third endeavours to divert a few in her own favour. So all the mothers
-swim about, quacking and calling, cackling and coaxing, till at length
-each one has behind her a troop of young ones, whether her own or
-another’s who can tell? The duck in question certainly does not know,
-but her mother-love does not suffer on that account--they are in any
-case ducklings who are swimming behind her!
-
-In every case the flock thus collected follows the mother or
-foster-mother faithfully even in the first hours of free life. The
-mother leads them to places where edible mussels cover the rocks up to
-low-water mark, gathers as many as she and her family require, breaks
-the shells of the smallest and lays the contents before her brood. On
-the first day of their lives the ducklings are able to swim and dive as
-well as their parents, and they even excel them in one respect, for
-they are incomparably more nimble on land, being able to move about
-with surprising activity. If they become tired near an island the
-mother leads them on to it, and they run about like young partridges,
-and, by simply crouching down at the first warning cry, conceal
-themselves so effectively that they can only be found after long
-searching. If they get fatigued when they are far from land, the mother
-spreads out her wings a little and offers them these and her back as
-a resting-place. As they never know want they grow with extraordinary
-rapidity, and at the end of two months will have attained nearly the
-size, certainly all the adroitness, of their mother. The father soon
-joins them in order to pass the winter with his family--usually in
-company with many other families, so that a flock of thousands may
-occasionally be formed.
-
-The high and annually increasing price of its incomparable down makes
-the eider-duck the most valuable of all berg-birds. A thousand pairs
-of ducks form a possession well worth having. At least three or four
-thousand pairs brood on each island, and the fortunate possessor of
-still more numerously visited breeding-places derives revenues through
-his birds which many a German land-owner might envy. But besides the
-eider-ducks there breed also on the holms oyster-catchers and black
-guillemots, whose eggs are preserved and used for food for months, or
-are exported to a distance. Furthermore, the flesh of the young birds
-is sometimes salted for winter use, and thus the holms yield a rich
-harvest. They are therefore strictly preserved and protected by special
-laws.[3]
-
-A brooding island peopled by eider-ducks and other sea birds presents a
-spectacle as unique as it is fascinating. A more or less thick cloud of
-brilliantly white sea-gulls veils such an island. Without intermission
-troops and swarms of brooding birds arrive and fly out to sea again,
-visiting the neighbouring reefs also, and sometimes marvellously
-adorning the drained moorland, now covered with green turf, in front
-of the red log-huts. With justifiable pride a dweller on the Lofodens
-pointed to several hundred gulls which were assembled directly before
-his door seeking for insects. “Our land is too poor, too cold, and
-too rough”, he said, “for us to be able to keep domestic birds as
-you do in the south. But the sea sends us our doves, and, I ask, have
-you ever seen more beautiful?” I could but answer in the negative,
-for the picture of the dazzling white and delicate blue-gray gulls on
-the luxuriant green turf amid the grand environment of the northern
-mountains was indeed magnificent. It is these gulls chiefly which make
-the brooding holms conspicuous from a distance, and distinguish them
-from others which are physically the same. The other members of the
-feathered population are but little noticed, though they number many
-thousands. Only when one of the admirable light boats of the country
-is pushed off from the inhabited shores and rowed towards the holm
-does the quiet life of the birds change. Some oyster-catchers, which
-have been feeding directly above the high-water mark, have observed
-the boat and fly hastily towards it. These birds, which are absent
-from none of the larger islands, scarcely from any of the skerries,
-are the guardians of the safety and welfare of the peacefully united
-colony. More inquisitive and active than any other birds known to
-me, self-possessed, cautious, and deliberate, they possess all the
-qualities necessary to make them the sentinels of a mixed colony.
-Every new, unusual, or extraordinary event arouses their curiosity,
-and incites them to make closer examination. Thus they fly to meet
-the boat, sweep round it five or six times in ever-narrowing circles,
-screaming uninterruptedly the while, thus attracting others of their
-own species to the spot, and rousing the attention of all the cautious
-birds in the colony. As soon as they have convinced themselves of the
-presence of actual danger, they fly quickly back, and, with warning
-notes, communicate the result of their investigation to all the other
-birds on the berg who will pay any attention, as indeed many do. Some
-gulls now resolve to investigate the cause of the disturbance for
-themselves. Five or six of them fly towards the boat, hover falcon-like
-in the air, perhaps even dart boldly down upon the intruders, and
-return to the holm more quickly than they came. Just as if their report
-was mistrusted, twice, three, four--ten times the number take wing,
-proceeding exactly as the first spies had done, and soon a cloud of
-birds forms above the boat. This cloud becomes thicker and thicker,
-more and more threatening, for the birds not only endeavour with
-continually increasing boldness to strike against the intruders in the
-boat, but they bestow upon them stuff which does not exactly tend to
-adorn faces and clothing. In the neighbourhood of the breeding-place
-the excitement increases to an apparently distracted confusion, the
-cries of individuals unite to form a maddening noise a thousand times
-repeated. Before the boat has touched the land the eider-drakes, who
-have been visiting their mates, have waddled to the shore and are
-now swimming out to sea with a warning “Ahua-ahua”. The cormorants
-and mergansers follow them, but the oyster-catchers, plovers, black
-guillemots, eider-ducks, gulls, and terns, as well as the stone-chats
-and water-wagtails, cannot make up their minds to forsake the island.
-Running birds innumerable rush up and down the shore as if pursued by
-the evil one; the black guillemots, which had glided up the slanting
-blocks of rock, squat flat down upon them and stare in innocent wonder
-at the strangers, and the eider-ducks prepare to make themselves
-invisible after their fashion when the right moment comes.
-
-The boat touches the shore. We step upon the holm. A screech rises from
-thousands of voices at once, the cloud of flying birds thickens to
-opaqueness; hundreds of brooding gulls rise croaking to join those in
-flight; dozens of oyster-catchers scream loudly, and the maze of moving
-birds and the noise of their screeching become so bewildering that one
-feels as if one perceived with the bodily senses the din and riot of
-the witches’ revel on the Blocksberg.
-
-  “Voices o’er us dost thou hear?
-  Voices far, and voices near?
-  All the mountain-range along
-  Streams a raving Witches’ Song.”
-
-Mephisto’s words are realized. The noise and tumult, the confusion of
-forms and cries, fatigue all the senses; everything swims and flickers
-before our eyes; there is singing and ringing in our ears, till at
-length we are conscious of neither colour nor noise, scarcely even
-of the usually very penetrating odour. In whatever direction we may
-turn the cloud covers the island; nothing is to be seen but birds, and
-when thousands alight to rest thousands more take wing, their care and
-anxiety for their brood making them forget their own powerlessness,
-and encouraging them to a defence which, though not dangerous, is
-certainly embarrassing to the explorers.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 3.--The Bird-bergs of Lapland.]
-
-Essentially different from the life--after all very inoffensive--on an
-eider-holm is the picture presented by an island peopled by silver,
-herring, or great black-backed gulls. These also congregate on certain
-islands for the breeding season in hundreds and hundreds of pairs, one
-such island being sometimes inhabited by from three to five thousand
-pairs. The island presents quite as beautiful and noble a spectacle
-as the eider-holm. The large, dazzling white, and light or dark gray
-forms contrast wonderfully with the whole surroundings, and their
-movements possess much of the grace which characterizes all gulls. But
-these strong, powerful, rapacious gulls, though gregarious, are not
-peaceable neighbours. No member of such a colony trusts any other. Each
-pair lives by itself, marks out a definite brooding-ground, however
-small its diameter, allows no other pair within its boundaries, and
-both birds never leave the nest at the same time. If they have been
-disturbed by a powerful common enemy they hasten back as quickly as
-possible to the nest to protect it from others of their own species.
-
-Less noisy, but certainly not less impressive, is the life on the
-real bird-bergs, the breeding-grounds of razor-bills, guillemots, and
-puffins, with at most here and there one or other of the gulls or of
-the cormorants. It will suffice if I attempt to describe one such berg
-in narrative form.
-
-To the north of the large island belonging to the Lofoden group, and
-about three hundred yards from its shore, lie three bell-shaped rocky
-islands (the Nyken), rising rugged and steep for about three hundred
-feet above the surface of the sea, and closely surrounded by a circle
-of little reefs. One of these rocky cones is a bird-berg, and one can
-hardly imagine a finer of its kind.
-
-We prepared to visit the island on a beautiful summer day when the
-sea was unusually smooth and calm, the sky clear and blue, the air
-warm and pleasant. Powerful Norsemen rowed our light boat in and out
-among innumerable skerries. Look where we would, we saw birds. Almost
-every rock which rose above the surface of the water was peopled with
-them. Some of the reefs were coated with white by the excrement of
-the cormorants which regularly spent a portion of each day there in
-rest. Arranged in rows, like soldiers drawn up, they sat in tens,
-twenties, or hundreds, in the most extraordinary positions, their necks
-stretched, their wings spread out so that every part of their bodies
-might have full benefit of the sunshine, waving their wings also as
-if to fan each other, and all the while casting watchful glances in
-every direction. On our approach, they threw themselves heavily with
-hollow cries into the sea, and then, swimming and diving, defied all
-our attempts to get near them. Other reefs were covered with gulls,
-hundreds and thousands of the same species; or with male eiders, which
-had probably come from some eider-holm or other, to amuse themselves
-after the fashion of their sex while their mates were busied with
-maternal cares. Around other rocky islands the dazzling eider-birds,
-perhaps newly-plucked males, had congregated and arranged themselves
-in a circle, suggestive of the great white water-lilies of our quiet
-freshwater lakes. In the sounds that were not too deep one could see
-the fishing mergansers and divers, one or other of which would every
-now and then give full vent to its shrill, far-reaching cry--a cry so
-long-drawn-out and so varied in tone that one might call it a song,
-were it not rather a wild melody such as can only be executed by a
-child of the North Sea who has listened to the howling and blustering
-of winter storms, and has echoed the roar of the surging waves. Proud
-as a prince upon his throne sat here and there a sea-eagle, the terror
-of all the feathered creatures of the sea; sometimes we saw a whole
-company of these robbers gorged with prey; the jerfalcon, who had his
-eyrie on one of the steep precipices, flew through his wide domain
-with the swiftness of an arrow; fluttering gulls and kittiwakes and
-fishing terns darted up and down; oyster-catchers greeted us with their
-trilling cries; razor-bills and guillemots appeared and disappeared all
-about us as they rose to the surface or dived underneath.
-
-In such company we proceeded on our way. When we had traversed about
-ten nautical miles we came within range of the Nyke. In whatever
-direction we looked we saw some of the temporary dwellers on the berg,
-fishing and diving in the sea, or, startled by our boat, flying along
-so close to the surface of the water that their bright red webbed feet
-struck spray from the waves. We saw swarms of from thirty to fifty or
-a hundred birds streaming from or towards the berg, and we could not
-doubt that we were approaching a very populous breeding-colony. But
-we had been told of millions of brooding birds, and as yet we could
-see nothing of such numbers. At length, after we had rowed round a
-projecting ridge, the Nyke lay before us. In the sea, all around, were
-black points, at the foot of the hill white ones. The former were
-without order or regularity, the latter generally in rows, or sharply
-defined troops; the one set consisted of razor-bills swimming, with
-head, throat, and neck above the water, the others were the same birds
-sitting on the hill with their white breasts turned towards the sea.
-There were certainly many thousands, but not millions.
-
-After we had landed at the opposite island and refreshed ourselves
-in the house of the proprietor of the Nyke, we crossed over to it,
-and choosing a place round which the seething waves did not surge
-too violently, we sprang out on the rock and climbed quickly up to
-the turf which covers the whole Nyke, with the exception of a few
-protruding peaks, ledges, and angles. There we found that the whole
-turf was so pierced with nest-hollows something like rabbit holes,
-that on the whole hill not a single place the size of a table could be
-found free from such openings. We made our way upwards in a spiral,
-clambering rather than walking to the top of the berg. The undermined
-turf trembled under our feet, and from every hole there peeped, crept,
-glided, or flew out birds rather larger than pigeons, slate-coloured on
-the upper part of the body, dazzlingly white on breast and belly, with
-fantastic bills and faces, short, narrow, pointed wings, and stumpy
-tails. Out of every hole they appeared and even out of the fissures and
-clefts in the rocks. Whichever way we turned we saw only birds, heard
-only the low droning noise of their combined weak cries. Every step
-onwards brought new flocks out of the bowels of the earth. From the
-berg down to the sea, from the sea up to the berg there flew swarms
-innumerable. The dozens became hundreds, the hundreds became thousands,
-and hundreds of thousands sprang incessantly from the brown-green turf.
-A cloud not less thick than that over the holm enveloped us, enveloped
-the island, so that it--magically indeed, but in a way perceptible by
-the senses--seemed transformed into a gigantic bee-hive, round which
-not less gigantic bees, humming and buzzing, hovered and fluttered.
-
-The farther we went, the more magnificent became the spectacle. The
-whole hill was alive. Hundreds of thousands of eyes looked down upon
-us intruders. From every hole and corner, from every peak and ledge,
-out of every cleft, burrow, or opening, they hurried forth, right,
-left, above, beneath; the air, like the ground, teemed with birds. From
-the sides and from the summit of the berg thousands threw themselves
-like a continuous cataract into the sea in a throng so dense that
-they seemed to the eye to form an almost solid mass. Thousands came,
-thousands went, thousands fluttered in a wondrous mazy dance; hundreds
-of thousands flew, hundreds of thousands swam and dived, and yet
-other hundreds of thousands awaited the footsteps which should rouse
-them also. There was such a swarming, whirring, rustling, dancing,
-flying, and creeping all about us that we almost lost our senses; the
-eye refused duty, and his wonted skill failed even the marksman who
-attempted to gain a prize at random among the thousands. Bewildered,
-hardly conscious, we pushed on our way until at length we reached the
-summit. Our expectation here at last to regain quietness, composure,
-and power of observation, was not at once realized. Even here there was
-the same swarming and whirring as further down the slope, and the cloud
-of birds around us was so thick that we only saw the sea dimly and
-indefinitely as in twilight. But a pair of jerfalcons, who had their
-eyrie in a neighbouring precipice, and had seen the unusual bustle,
-suddenly changed the wonderful scene. The razor-bills, guillemots,
-and puffins were not afraid of us; but on the appearance of their
-well-known and irresistible enemies, the whole cloud threw themselves
-with one accord, as at the command of a magician, into the sea, and
-the outlook was clear and free. Innumerable black points, the heads of
-the birds swimming in the sea, stood out distinctly from the water,
-and broke up the blue-green colouring of the waves. Their number was
-so great that from the top of the berg, which was over three hundred
-feet high, we could not see where the swarm ended, could not discover
-where the sea was clear from birds. In order to make a calculation, I
-measured out a small square with my eye, and began to count the points
-in it. There were more than a hundred. Then I endeavoured mentally to
-place several similar squares together, and soon came to thousands
-of points. But I might have imagined many thousands of such squares
-together and yet not exhausted the space covered by birds. The millions
-of which I had been told were really there. This picture of apparent
-quiet only lasted for a few moments. The birds soon began to fly
-upwards again, and as before, hundreds of thousands rose simultaneously
-from the water to ascend the hill, as before a cloud formed round it,
-and our senses were again bewildered. Unable to see, and deafened by
-the indescribable noise about me, I threw myself on the ground, and
-the birds streamed by on all sides. New ones crept constantly out of
-their holes, while those we had previously startled now crept back
-again; they settled all about me, looking with comical amazement at the
-strange form among them, and approaching with mincing gait so close
-to me that I attempted to seize them. The beauty and charm of life
-showed themselves in every movement of these remarkable birds. With
-astonishment I saw that even the best pictures of them are stiff and
-cold, for I remarked in their quaint forms a mobility and liveliness
-with which I had not credited them. They did not remain still a single
-instant, their heads and necks at least were moved incessantly to
-all sides, and their contours often showed most graceful lines. It
-seemed as though the inoffensiveness with which I had given myself
-up to observing them, had been rewarded by unlimited confidence on
-their part. The thousands just about me were like domestic birds; the
-millions paid me no more attention than if I had been one of themselves.
-
-I spent eighteen hours on this bird-berg in order to study the life of
-the auks.[4] When the midnight sun stood large and blood-red in the sky
-and cast its rosy light on the sides of the hill there came the peace
-which midnight brings even in the far North. The sea was deserted; all
-the birds which had been fishing and diving in it had flown up to the
-berg. There they sat wherever there was room to sit in long rows of
-tens, of hundreds, of hundreds of thousands, forming dazzling white
-lines as all, without exception, sat facing the sea. Their ‘arr’ and
-‘err’, which had deafened our ears notwithstanding the weakness of
-the individual voices, were silent now, and only the roar of the surf
-breaking on the rocks far below resounded as before. Not till the sun
-rose again did the old bewildering bustle begin anew, and as we at
-length descended the hill by the way we had climbed it, we were once
-more surrounded by a thick cloud of startled birds.
-
-It is not because of their enormous numbers alone that the auks are so
-fascinating; there is much that is attractive in their life and habits.
-During the brooding time their social virtues reach an extraordinary
-height. Till the beginning of that season they live entirely on the
-open sea, defying the severest winter and the wildest storms. Even
-in the long night of winter very few of them forsake their northern
-home, but they range, in flocks of hundreds and thousands, from one
-fishing-ground to another, finding all the open spaces among the ice
-as unfailingly as they do other promising feeding-grounds in the open
-sea. But when the sun reappears they are animated by one feeling--love,
-by one longing--to reach as soon as possible the hill where their
-own cradle stood. Then somewhere about Easter-time they all set out,
-swimming more than flying, for the bird-berg. But among the auks there
-are more males than females, and not every male is fortunate enough
-to secure a wife. Among other birds such a disproportion gives rise
-to ceaseless strife, yet among these auks peace is not disturbed. The
-much-to-be-pitied beings whom, making use of a human analogy, we may
-call bachelors, migrate to the berg as well as the fortunate pairs, who
-coquette and caress by the way; they fly up with these to the heights
-and accompany them on their hunting expeditions to the surrounding sea.
-As soon as the weather permits, the pairs begin to get the old holes
-in order; they clear them out, deepen them, enlarge their chambers,
-and, if necessary, hollow out a new brooding-place. As soon as this
-has been done the female lays, on the bare ground at the further end
-of the hollowed-out brooding-chamber, a single very large, top-shaped,
-brightly-spotted egg, and begins to brood alternately with the male.
-The poor bachelors have a sad time of it now. They, too, would dearly
-like to take parental cares upon themselves if they could only find
-a mate who would share them. But all the females are appropriated,
-and wooing is in vain. So they resolve to give practical proof of
-their good-will, at least in so far that they force themselves on the
-fortunate pair as friends of the family. In the hours about midnight,
-when the female broods on the nest, they sit with the male as he keeps
-watch before it, and, when the male relieves his mate that she may
-fish in the sea, they mount guard in his stead. But when both parents
-visit the sea at once the bachelors hasten to reap some reward for
-their faithfulness. Without delay they thrust themselves into the
-interior of the cavity, and sit for the time upon the forsaken egg.
-The poor birds who are condemned to celibacy want at least to brood a
-little! This unselfish devotion has one result for which men might envy
-the auks--there are no orphans on these bird-bergs. Should the male
-of a pair come to grief, his widow immediately consoles herself with
-another mate, and in the rarer case of both parents losing their lives
-at once the good-natured supernumeraries are quite ready to finish
-hatching the egg and to rear the young one. The young ones differ
-materially from those of the ducks and gulls. They are ‘altrices’, not
-‘præcoces’ as the ornithologists say;[5] in plain language, they are
-not ready for active life as soon as they are hatched. In a dress of
-thick gray down the young auk slips from the egg in which it awakes
-to life, but it must spend many weeks in the hole before it is ready
-to attempt its first flight to the sea. This first flight is always a
-hazardous undertaking, as is proved by the countless dead bodies on
-the cliffs at the foot of the berg. The young bird, nervously using
-its unpractised legs, hardly less timidly its newly-developed wings,
-follows its parents as they lead the way down the hill towards some
-place from which the leap into the sea may be attempted with as little
-danger as possible. On a suitable ledge the parents often remain a
-long time with their young one before they can induce it to take
-a spring. Both father and mother persuade it coaxingly; the little
-one, usually obedient like all young birds, pays no heed to their
-commands. The father throws himself into the sea before the eyes of
-his hesitating offspring; the inexperienced young one remains where he
-was. More attempts, more coaxing, urgent pressure: at length he risks
-the great leap and plunges like a falling stone deep into the sea;
-then, unconsciously obeying his instincts, he works his way to the
-surface, looks all around over the unending sea, and--is a sea-bird who
-thenceforth shuns no danger.
-
-Different again is the life and activity on the bergs chosen as
-brooding-places by the kittiwakes. Such a hill is the promontory
-Swärtholm, high up in the north between the Laxen and the Porsanger
-fjord, not far from the North Cape. I knew well how these gulls appear
-on their brooding-places. Faber, with his excellent knowledge of the
-birds of the far North, has depicted it, as usual, in a few vivid words:
-
-“They hide the sun when they fly, they cover the skerries when they
-sit, they drown the thunder of the surf when they cry, they colour the
-rocks white when they brood.” I believed the excellent Faber after I
-had seen the eider-holms and auk-bergs, and yet I doubted, as every
-naturalist must, and therefore I ardently desired to visit Swärtholm
-for myself. An amiable Norseman with whom I became friendly, the pilot
-of the mail steamer by which I travelled, readily agreed to row me
-over to the breeding-place, and we approached the promontory late one
-evening. At a distance of six or eight nautical miles we were overtaken
-by flocks of from thirty to a hundred, sometimes even two hundred
-kittiwakes flying to their nesting-place. The nearer we approached to
-Swärtholm the more rapid was the succession of these swarms, and the
-larger did they become. At last the promontory became visible, a rocky
-wall about eight hundred yards long, pierced by innumerable holes,
-rising almost perpendicularly from the sea to a height of from four
-hundred and fifty to six hundred feet. It looked gray in the distance,
-but with a telescope one could discern innumerable points and lines.
-It looked as though a gigantic slate had been scratched all over with
-all sorts of marks by a playful giant child, as though the whole rock
-bore a wondrous decoration of chains, rings, and stars. From the dark
-depths of large and small cavities there gleamed a brilliant white; the
-shelving ledges stood out in more conspicuous brightness. The brooding
-gulls on their nests formed the white pattern, and we realized the
-truth of Faber’s words, “they cover the rocks when they sit”.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 4.--Razor-bills.]
-
-Our boat, as it grated on the rocky shore, startled a number of the
-gulls, and I saw a picture such as I had seen on many eider-holms
-and gull-islands. A shot from my friend’s gun thundered against
-the precipice. As a raging winter storm rushes through the air and
-breaks up the snow-laden clouds till they fall in flakes, so now it
-snowed living birds. One saw neither hill nor sky, nothing but an
-indescribable confusion. A thick cloud darkened the whole horizon,
-justifying the description “they hide the sun when they fly”. The north
-wind blew violently and the icy sea surged wildly against the foot of
-the cliffs, but more loudly still resounded the shrill cries of the
-birds, so that the truth of the last part also of Faber’s description
-was fully proved, “they drown the thunder of the surf when they cry”.
-At length the cloud sank down upon the sea, the hitherto dim outlines
-of Swärtholm became distinct again, and a new spectacle enchained our
-gaze. On the precipices there seemed to sit quite as many birds as
-before, and thousands were still flying up and down. A second shot
-scared new flocks, a second time it snowed birds down upon the sea,
-and still the hillsides were covered with hundreds of thousands.
-But on the sea, as far as the eye could reach, lay gulls like light
-foam-balls rocking up and down with the waves. How shall I describe the
-magnificent spectacle? Shall I say that the sea had woven millions and
-millions of bright pearls into her dark wave-robe? Or shall I compare
-the gulls to stars; and the ocean to the dome of heaven? I know not;
-but I know that I have seen nothing more gorgeous even on the sea.
-And as if the charm were not already great enough, the midnight sun,
-erewhile clouded over, suddenly shed its rosy light over promontory and
-sea and birds, lighting up every wave-crest as if a golden, wide-meshed
-net had been thrown over the water, and making the rose-tinted
-dazzling gulls appear more brilliant than before. We stood speechless
-at the sight! And we, with all our company, even the sailors of our
-boat, remained motionless for a long, long time, deeply moved by the
-wonderful picture before us, till at last one of us broke the silence,
-and, rather to recover himself through the sound of his own voice than
-to express his inner feeling, softly uttered the poet’s words:
-
-  Over the bergs the sun blood-red
-    Shone through the night;
-  Nor day nor dark was over head,
-    But weird twilight.
-
-
-
-
-THE TUNDRA AND ITS ANIMAL LIFE.
-
-
-Around the North Pole lies a broad belt of inhospitable land, a desert
-which owes its special character rather to the water than to the sun.
-Towards the Pole this desert gradually loses itself in fields of ice,
-towards the south in dwarfed woods, becoming itself a field of snow
-and ice when the long winter sets in, while stunted trees attempt the
-struggle for existence only in the deepest valleys or on the sunniest
-slopes. This region is the Tundra.[6]
-
-It is a monotonous picture which I attempt to sketch when I seek to
-describe the tundra, a picture gray on gray, yet not devoid of all
-beauty; it is a desert with which we have to do, but a desert in which
-life, though for many months slumbering and apparently banished, stirs
-periodically in wondrous fulness.
-
-Our language possesses no synonym for the word tundra, because our
-Fatherland possesses no such tract of country. For the tundra is
-neither heath nor moor, neither marsh nor fen, neither highlands nor
-sand-dunes, neither moss nor morass, though in many places it may
-resemble one or other of these. “Moss-steppes” someone has attempted
-to name it, but the expression is only satisfactory to those who have
-grasped the idea of steppe in its widest sense. In my opinion the
-tundra most resembles one of those moors which we find--and avoid--on
-the broad saddles of our lofty mountains; but it differs in many and
-important respects even from these boggy plateaus; indeed its character
-is in every respect unique. The region is sometimes divided into low
-and high tundra, though the differences between the land under three
-hundred feet above sea-level and that above this line are in the tundra
-more apparent than real.
-
-The low tundra is bounded by flat, wavy outlines; its valleys are
-shallow troughs, and even the heights, which, from a distance, look
-like hills or even mountains, turn out to be only flat hillocks when
-one approaches their base. Flatness, uniformity, expressionlessness
-prevail, yet that there is a certain variety in the landscape, a
-diversity in some of its individual features, cannot be disputed. As
-one wanders through the tundra for days at a time, one’s attention
-is often arrested by dainty, even charming little pictures, but such
-pictures rarely stamp themselves on the memory, since on closer
-examination they prove, in all important details, in setting and
-surroundings, in contour and colour, like too many other scenes to
-make a distinct impression. Notwithstanding this monotony, the general
-aspect of the tundra has little unity, still less grandeur, and on this
-account one does not become enthusiastic about the region, does not
-reach to the heights of emotion which other landscapes awaken, perhaps
-does not even attain to full enjoyment of the real beauties which, it
-must be admitted, even this desert possesses.
-
-The tundra receives its greatest beauty from the sky, its greatest
-charm from the water. The sky is seldom quite clear and bright, though
-even here the sun, shining uninterruptedly for months together, can
-beat down hot and oppressive on the flat hills and damp valleys. The
-blue sky is usually seen only in isolated places through light, white,
-loose-layered clouds; these are often massed together into cloud-banks
-which form on all sides of the apparently immeasurable horizon,
-continually changing, shifting, assuming new forms, appearing and
-vanishing again, so ravishing the eye with their changeful brilliance
-that one almost forgets the landscape underneath. When a thunder-storm
-threatens after a hot day the sky darkens here and there to the deepest
-gray-blue, the vapour-laden clouds sink beneath the lighter ones,
-and the sun shines through, clear and brilliant; then the dreary,
-monotonous landscape is magically beautified. For light and shade
-now diversify the hill-tops and valleys, and the wearisome monotony
-of their colour gains variety and life. And when, in the middle of a
-midsummer night, the sun stands large and blood-red in the heavens,
-when all the clouds are flushed with purple from beneath, when those
-hill-tops which hide the luminary bear a far-reaching flaming crown of
-rays, when a delicate rosy haze lies over the brown-green landscape,
-when, in a word, the indescribable magic of the midnight sun casts its
-spell over the soul: then this wilderness is transformed into enchanted
-fields, and a blissful awe fills the heart.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 5.--The High Tundra in Northern Siberia.]
-
-But variety and life are also given by the jewels of the tundra--its
-innumerable lakes. Distributed singly or in groups, lying beside
-or rising above each other, stretching out into water-basins miles in
-breadth, or shrinking into little pools, they occupy the centre of
-every hollow, beautify every valley, almost every glen, sparkle in
-the all-enlivening sunshine, and gray and colourless though they may
-be, assume, if seen from the top of a hill, the deep blue of mountain
-lakes. And when the sunlight flashes and twinkles on their mirroring
-waves, or when they, too, are touched by the rosy glow of midnight,
-they stand out from the surrounding gloom like living lights, on which
-the eye delights to linger.
-
-Much grander, though still gloomy and monotonous, is the spectacle
-presented by the high tundra. Here the mountains--for such they
-are--have all the charms of height. They almost always rise
-precipitously, and the chains they form have much-broken lines, and in
-all suitable places the snowy sheets which cover them become glaciers.
-Tundra in the strict sense is only to be found where the water does
-not find rapid outlet; the whole remaining country seems so different
-from the low grounds that only the essentially similar vegetation
-proclaims it tundra. The boulders, which in the low grounds are
-turfed over with thick layers of dead plant remains, are here almost
-everywhere exposed; endless heaps of gigantic blocks cover the slopes
-and fill the valleys; boulders form the substratum of wide, almost flat
-surfaces on which the traveller treads hesitatingly, as he ponders
-over the difficult riddle regarding the forces which have distributed
-the blocks over these vast surfaces with almost unvarying regularity.
-But everywhere between them the water trickles and glides, ripples and
-swells, rushes and roars, rages and thunders down to the low ground.
-From the slopes it flows in trickling threads, converging runlets, and
-murmuring brooklets; from the crevices of the glaciers it breaks forth
-in milky torrents; it enters the water-basins in turbid rivulets; it
-escapes from the purifying lakes in crystalline streams, and whirling
-and foaming, hissing and raging, it hurries onwards down the valleys,
-forming alternate waterfalls and whirlpools, till it reaches the low
-tundra, a river, or the sea. But the sun, as often as it breaks through
-the clouds, floods this unique mountain region also with its magic
-colours, defines every hill and valley, illumines every snowfield,
-makes every glacier and ravine conspicuous and telling, gives effect to
-every peak, ridge and cliff, shows every lake as a clear and smiling
-mountain eye, spreads, morning and evening, the blue haze of distance
-like a delicate veil over the background of the picture, and, at
-midnight, floods the whole with its deepest rays, so that it is bathed
-in rosy light. Surely even the tundra is not without its charms.
-
-In some places, though very rarely, the vegetation gives a certain form
-and beauty to the scenery. Pines and firs, if not altogether confined
-to the south, are only to be found in the most sheltered valleys. The
-few firs which are to be seen look as if they had been seized by a
-giant hand and twisted like a screw, and they do not thrive in the
-higher districts. The birches penetrate farther, but even they are
-stunted and bent like grizzled dwarfs. The larches alone here and
-there hold the field, and grow to be really trees, but they cannot be
-described as characteristic of the tundra. The most characteristic
-plant is certainly the dwarf-birch. Only under exceptionally favourable
-circumstances attaining to a yard in height, it predominates over by
-far the greater part of the tundra so absolutely that all other bushes
-and shrubs seem only to have sprung up between the birches. It spreads
-over all tracts where it can take root, from the shore of the sea or
-river to the tops of the mountains, a more or less thick covering so
-equal in height that great stretches look as if they had been shorn
-along the top; it recedes only where the ground is so soaked with water
-that it forms swamp or morass; it is stunted only where the heights are
-covered with infertile quartz or with stiff clay, which hardens readily
-in the sun; but it strives for mastery with the bog-moss on all the
-low grounds and with the reindeer-moss on every height. Areas of many
-square miles are so thickly clothed--one might almost say felted--that
-only the indestructible bog-moss ventures to assert its claim to
-the soil beside, or rather under the birches. In other less moist
-places we find dwarf-birches, sweet-willow, and marsh-andromeda mixed
-together. In the same way various berry-bearing bushes are often mixed,
-especially cowberries, crowberries, cranberries, and whortleberries.
-
-If the ground lies below the level of the surrounding plains, and
-is therefore very moist, the bog-moss gains the day, and, gradually
-crowding out the dwarf-birch, forms great swelling cushions. As the
-root-parts rapidly die away into peat, these cushions become higher
-and more extensive until the water impedes any further advance, or
-else they break up into dome-like hillocks. If the basin be very flat,
-the accumulated water rarely forms a lake or pond, scarcely even a
-pool, but soaks through the soil to an indefinite depth, and so forms
-a morass whose thin but tough covering of interlacing sedge-roots can
-only be trodden in safety by the broad-hoofed reindeer; and even his
-steps, and the deeply-sinking runners of the sledge, make it yield and
-tremble like jelly.
-
-When the depression becomes a short confined trough, without outlet,
-into which a streamlet flows, however slowly, the morass becomes a
-bog, or lower down, a swamp. In the first of these, reeds, in the
-second downy willows (sallows), a second characteristic plant of the
-tundra, attain to luxuriant growth. Though only in very favourable
-circumstances becoming as tall as a man, these plants form thickets
-which may be literally impenetrable. Their branches and roots interlace
-to an even greater extent than do those of the dwarf-firs on the
-mountains, forming an inextricable maze which can best be compared
-to a felt compacted out of all the different parts of the willow. It
-withstands the strongest arm, when one tries to clear a path through
-it, and it offers so much obstruction to the foot that the most
-persistent explorer soon gives up the attempt to pierce it, and turns
-aside, or retraces his steps. This he does the more readily as the
-substratum is in most cases morass or an almost continuous series of
-marshy, slimy pools whose fathomableness one is unwilling even to try.
-
-As the traveller journeys through the tundra, he recognizes that the
-whole region presents to the eye the individual features already
-described, in regular alternation and monotonous repetition. Only where
-a large river of considerable volume flows through the low tundra is
-there any real change. Such a river deposits on its banks the masses
-of sand it has carried down; and the wind, which blows constantly and
-usually violently, piles these gradually up into dunes along the
-banks; thus a soil foreign to the tundra is formed. On these sand-hills
-the larch grows, even in the tundra of Siberia, to a stately tree,
-and becomes, in association with willows and dwarf alder bushes, an
-ornament to the landscape. In the neighbourhood of small lakes the
-trees may even be grouped together, and, with the shrubs already named,
-form a natural park which would not escape observation even in a much
-richer and more fertile district, and is here so very remarkable that
-it leaves a lasting impression.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 6.--Peregrine Falcons and Lemmings.]
-
-When the larch has taken root in the sand-hills, there grow up under
-its sheltering branches other tall-stemmed plants such as sharp-leaved
-willows, mountain ash, black alder, and woodbine bushes, and there
-spring from the sand many flowers which one thought to have left far
-behind in the south. The surprised southerner is cheered by the red
-glory of the willow-herb; the charming wild rose clings close to the
-motherly earth, decorating it with its slender stems and its flowers;
-the bright forget-me-not looks up with home-like greeting; here
-hellebore and chives, valerian and thyme, carnations and blue-bells,
-bird-vetch and alpine vetch, ranunculus and immortelles, lady’s-smock,
-Jacob’s-ladder, cinquefoil, love-lies-bleeding, and others find a home
-in the desert. In such places more plants grow than one had expected,
-but the traveller is certainly modest in his expectations when he has
-seen the same poverty all around for days and weeks together, always
-dwarf-birches and sallows, marsh-andromeda and sedge, reindeer-moss
-and bog-moss; has refreshed himself with the stunted crowberries and
-cranberries half-hidden in the moss, half-creeping on the ground,
-and has been obliged to take the cloudberries which decorate the
-moss-cushion as flowers; when he has tramped over them and among
-them for days together always hoping for a change, and always being
-disappointed. Every familiar plant from the south reminds him of
-happier regions; he greets it as a dear friend whose value is only
-realized when he has begun to fear losing him.[7]
-
-It seems strange that the plants above-named and many others should
-spring only from the dry sand of the dunes, but the apparent riddle
-is solved when we know that it is only the sand thus piled up, that
-becomes sufficiently warmed in the months of uninterrupted sunshine
-for these plants to flourish. Nowhere else throughout the tundra is
-this the case. Moor and bog, morass and swamp, even the lakes with
-water several yards in depth only form a thin summer covering over
-the eternal winter which reigns in the tundra, with destructive as
-well as with preserving power. Wherever one tries to penetrate to any
-depth in the soil one comes--in most cases scarcely a yard from the
-surface--upon ice, or at least on frozen soil, and it is said that one
-must dig about a hundred yards before breaking through the ice-crust
-of the earth. It is this crust which prevents the higher plants from
-vigorous growth, and allows only such to live as are content with
-the dry layer of soil which thaws in summer. It is only by digging
-that one can know the tundra for what it is: an immeasurable and
-unchangeable ice-vault which has endured, and will continue to endure,
-for hundreds of thousands of years. That it has thus endured is proved
-indisputably by the remains of prehistoric animals embedded in it, and
-thus preserved for us. In 1807 Adams dug from the ice of the tundras
-the giant mammoth, with whose flesh the dogs of the Yakuts sated their
-hunger, although it must have died many thousands of years before,
-for the race became extinct in the incalculably distant past. The icy
-tundra had faithfully preserved the carcase of this primitive elephant
-all through these hundreds of thousands of years.[8]
-
-Many similar animals, and others of a more modern time, are embedded
-in the ice, though it is not to be supposed that the tundra was ever
-able to sustain a much richer fauna than it has now. Bison and musk-ox
-traversed it long after the time of the mammoth; giant-elk and moose
-belonged to it once. Now its animal life is as poor and monotonous as
-its vegetation--as itself. This holds true, however, only with regard
-to species, not to individuals, for the tundra is, at least in summer,
-the home of numerous animals.
-
-The year is well advanced before the tundra begins to be visibly
-peopled. Of the species which never leave it one sees very little in
-winter. The fish which ascend its rivers from the sea are concealed by
-the ice; the mammals and birds which winter in it are hidden by the
-snow, under which they live, or whose colour they wear. Not until the
-snow begins to melt on the southern slopes does the animal life begin
-to stir. Hesitatingly the summer visitors make their appearance. The
-wolf follows the wild reindeer, the army of summer birds follows the
-drifting ice blocks on the streams. Some of the birds remain still
-undecided in the regions to the South, behave as if they would breed
-there, then suddenly disappear from their resting-place by the way, fly
-hastily to the tundra, begin to build directly on their arrival, lay
-their eggs, and brood eagerly, as though they wished to make up for
-the time gained by their relatives in the South. Their summer life is
-compressed into few weeks. They arrive already united, paired for life,
-or at least for the summer; their hearts stirred by all-powerful love,
-they proceed, singing and rejoicing, to build a nest; unceasingly they
-give themselves up to their parental duties, brood, rear, and educate
-their young, moult, and migrate abroad again.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 7.--The White or Arctic Fox (_Canis lagopus_).]
-
-The number of species which may be looked upon as native to the tundra
-is small indeed, yet it is much greater than that of those which may
-be regarded as characteristic of the region. As the first of these, I
-should like to place the Arctic fox. He ranges over the whole extent
-of the tundra, and is sure of maintenance and food in the south at
-least, where he occurs along with our fox and other allied species.
-Like some other creatures he wears the colours of his home, in summer
-a rock-coloured dress, in winter a snow-white robe, for the hairs
-of his thick fur coat are at first stone-gray or grayish-blue, and
-become snow-white in winter.[9] He struggles through life with ups
-and downs like other foxes, but his whole character and conduct are
-quite different from those of our reynard and his near relatives. One
-scarcely does him injustice in describing him as a degenerate member of
-a distinguished family, unusually gifted, intelligent, and ingenious.
-Of the slyness and ingenuity, the calculating craft, the never-failing
-presence of mind of his congeners he evinces hardly any trace. His
-disposition is bold and forward, his manner officious, his behaviour
-foolish. He may be a bold beggar, an impudent vagabond, but he is
-never a cunning thief or robber, weighing all circumstances, and using
-all available means to attain his end. Unconcernedly he stares at the
-huntsman’s gun; unwarned by the ball, which passes whistling over his
-body, he follows his worst enemy; unhesitatingly he forces his way into
-the birch-bark hut of the wandering reindeer-herdsmen; without fear he
-approaches a man sleeping in the open, to steal the game he has caught,
-or even to snap at a naked limb. On one occasion an Arctic fox at which
-I had several times fired in vain in the dusk, kept following my steps
-like a dog. My old sporting friend, Erik Swenson of Dovrefjeld, relates
-that one night a fox nibbled the fur rug on which he lay, and old
-Steller vouches for many other pranks which this animal plays, pranks
-which every one would declare incredible were they not thoroughly
-guaranteed by corroborating observations. An insufficient knowledge of
-human beings, so sparsely represented in the tundra, may to some extent
-account for the extraordinary behaviour of this fox, but it is not the
-only reason. For neither the red fox nor any other mammal of the tundra
-behaves with so little caution; not even the lemming approaches him in
-this respect.
-
-A strange creature certainly is this last inhabitant of our region
-whatever species of his family we consider. He, or at least his tracks,
-may be seen everywhere throughout the tundra. The tracks run in all
-directions, often through places overgrown by dwarf-birches, narrow,
-smooth, neatly-kept paths in the moss, going straight for several
-hundred yards, then diverging to right or left, and only returning to
-the main path after many circuits. On these we may often see, in great
-numbers during a dry summer, a little, short-tailed, hamster-like
-animal nimbly pattering along and soon disappearing out of sight. This
-is the lemming, a rodent smaller than a rat, but larger than a mouse,
-and with brightly but irregularly marked skin, usually brown, yellow,
-gray, and black. If we dissect the animal we see, not without surprise,
-that it consists almost entirely of skin and viscera. Its bones and
-muscles are fine and tender; its viscera, especially the alimentary
-and the reproductive organs, are enormously developed. This state of
-things explains some phenomena of its life which were long considered
-unintelligible: the almost abrupt occurrence of well-nigh unlimited
-fertility, and the vast, apparently organized migrations of the animal.
-In ordinary circumstances the lemming leads a very comfortable life.
-Neither in summer nor in winter has he any anxiety about subsistence.
-In winter he devours all sorts of vegetable matter,--moss-tips,
-lichen, and bark; in summer he lives in his burrow, in winter in
-a warm, thick-walled, softly-lined nest. Danger indeed threatens
-from all sides, for not only beasts and birds of prey, but even the
-reindeer devour hundreds and thousands of lemmings;[10] nevertheless
-they increase steadily and rapidly, until special circumstances arise
-when millions, which have come into existence within a few weeks, are
-annihilated within a few days. Spring sets in early, and a more than
-usually dry summer prevails in the tundra. All the young of the first
-litter of the various lemming females thrive, and six weeks later, at
-the most, these also multiply. Meantime the parents have brought forth
-a second and a third litter, and these in their turn bring forth young.
-Within three months the heights and low grounds of the tundra teem with
-lemmings, just as our fields do with mice under similar circumstances.
-Whichever way we turn, we see the busy little creatures, dozens at a
-single glance, thousands in the course of an hour. They run about on
-all the paths and roads; driven to extremity, they turn, snarling and
-sharpening their teeth, on the defensive even against man, as if their
-countless numbers lent to each individual a defiant courage. But the
-countless and still-increasing numbers prove their own destruction.
-Soon the lean tundra ceases to afford employment enough for their
-greedy teeth. Famine threatens, perhaps actually sets in. The anxious
-animals crowd together and begin their march. Hundreds join with
-hundreds, thousands with other thousands: the troops become swarms, the
-swarms armies. They travel in a definite direction, at first following
-old tracks, but soon striking out new ones; in unending files--defying
-all computation--they hasten onwards; over the cliffs they plunge into
-the water. Thousands fall victims to want and hunger; the army behind
-streams on over their corpses; hundreds of thousands are drowned in
-the water, or are shattered at the foot of the cliffs; the remainder
-speed on; other hundreds and thousands fall victims to the voracity of
-Arctic and red foxes, wolves and gluttons, rough-legged buzzards and
-ravens, owls and skuas which have followed them; the survivors pay no
-heed. Where these go, how they end, none can say, but certain it is
-that the tundra behind them is as if dead, that a number of years pass
-ere the few who have remained behind, and have managed to survive,
-slowly multiply, and visibly re-people their native fields.[11]
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 8.--The Reindeer (_Tarandus rangifer_).]
-
-A third animal characteristic of the tundra is the reindeer. Those who
-know this deer, in itself by no means beautiful, only in a state of
-captivity and slavery, can form no idea of what it is under natural
-conditions. Here in the tundra one learns to appreciate the reindeer,
-to recognize and value him as a member of a family which he does not
-disgrace. He belongs to the tundra, body and soul. Over the immense
-glacier and the quivering crust of the unfathomable morass, over
-the boulder-heaps and the matted tops of the dwarf-birches or over
-the mossy hillocks, over rivers and lakes he runs or swims with his
-broad-hoofed, shovel-like, extraordinarily mobile feet, which crackle
-at every step. In the deepest snow he uses his foot to dig for food.
-He is protected against the deadly cold of the long northern night
-by his thick skin, which the arrows of winter cannot pierce, against
-the pangs of hunger by the indiscriminateness of his appetite. From
-the wolf, which invariably follows close on his heels, he is, in some
-measure at least, saved by the acuteness of his senses, by his speed
-and endurance. He passes the summer on the clear heights of the tundra,
-where, on the slopes just beside the glaciers, the soil, belted over
-with reindeer-moss, also brings forth juicy, delicate alpine plants;
-in winter he ranges through the low tundra from hill to hill seeking
-spots from which the snow has been cleared off by the wind.[12] Shortly
-before this, having attained to his full strength and fully grown his
-branching antlers, he had in passionate violence engaged in deadly
-combat with like-minded rivals as strong as himself until the still
-tundra resounded with the clashing of their horns. Now, worn out with
-fighting and with love, he ranges peacefully through his territory with
-others of his kind, associated in large herds, seeking only to maintain
-the struggle with winter. The reindeer is certainly far behind the stag
-in beauty and nobility, but when one sees the great herds, unhampered
-by the fetters of slavery, on the mountains of their native tundra, in
-vivid contrast to the blue of the sky and the whiteness of the snowy
-carpet, one must acknowledge that he, too, takes rank among noble wild
-beasts, and that he has more power than is usually supposed to quicken
-the beating of the sportsman’s heart.
-
-The tundra also possesses many characteristic birds. Whoever has
-traversed the northern desert must have met one, at least, of these,
-the ptarmigan:
-
-  “In summer gay from top to toe,
-  In winter whiter than the snow”.
-
-I do not allude to the ptarmigan of our mountains, which is here
-also restricted to the glacier region, but to the much more abundant
-willow-grouse. Wherever the dwarf-birch thrives it is to be found, and
-it is always visible, but especially when the silence of night has
-fallen upon the tundra, even though the sun be shining overhead. It
-never entirely forsakes its haunts, but, at the most, descends from
-the heights to the low grounds in winter. It is lively and nimble,
-pert and self-possessed, jealous and quarrelsome towards its rivals,
-affectionate and devoted towards its mate and young. Its life resembles
-that of our partridge, but its general behaviour has a much greater
-charm. It is the embodiment of life in the desert. Its challenging
-call rings out through the still summer night, and the coveys enliven
-the wintry tundra, forsaken by almost all other birds. Its presence
-gladdens and charms naturalist and sportsman alike.
-
-During summer the golden plover, which also must be described as a
-faithful child of the tundra, is to be met almost everywhere. As the
-swift ostrich to the desert, the sand-grouse to the steppes, the
-rock-partridge to the mountains, the lark to the corn-fields, so the
-golden plover belongs to the tundra. Gay as its dress may be, they are
-the colours of the tundra which it wears; its melancholy cry is the
-sound most in keeping with this dreary region. Much as we like to see
-it in our own country, we greet it without pleasure here, for its cry
-uttered day and night makes us as sad as the tundra itself.
-
-With much greater pleasure does one listen to the voice of another
-summer guest of the region. I do not refer to the tender melodies
-of the blue-throated warbler, which is here one of the commonest of
-brooding birds and justly named the “hundred-tongued singer”, nor to
-the ringing notes of the fieldfare, which also extends to the tundra,
-nor to the short song of the snow bunting, nor to the shrill cries of
-the peregrine falcon or the rough-legged buzzard, nor to the exultant
-hooting of the sea-eagle or the similar cry of the snowy owl, nor
-to the resounding trumpet-call of the musical swan or the plaintive
-bugle-like note of the Arctic duck, but to the pairing and love cry of
-one or other of the divers--a wild, unregulated, unrestrained, yet
-sonorous and tuneful, resonant and ringing northern melody, comparable
-to the roar of the surge or to the thunder of a waterfall as it rushes
-to the deep. Wherever a lake rich in fish is to be found, with a secret
-place in the reeds thick enough to conceal a floating nest, we find
-these children of the tundra and the sea, these soberly-joyous fishers
-in the calm fresh waters and fearless divers in the northern sea.
-Thence they have come to the tundra to brood, and back thither they
-will lead their young as soon as these are able, like themselves, to
-master the waves. Over the whole extent of the tundra they visit its
-waters, but they prefer to the broad inland lakes the little ponds on
-the hills along the coast, whence they can daily plunge, with their
-wildly jubilant sea song, into the heaving, bountiful ocean, which is
-their home.
-
-From the sea come other two birds very characteristic of the tundra.
-The eye follows every movement of the robber-gulls with real delight,
-of the phalarope with actual rapture. Both breed in the tundra: the
-one on open mossy moors, the other on the banks of the most hidden
-ponds and pools among the sallows. If other gulls be the “ravens of the
-sea” the skuas may well be called the “sea-falcons”. With full justice
-do they bear the names of robber and parasitic gulls, for they are
-excellent birds of prey when there is no opportunity for parasitism,
-and they become parasites when their own hunting has been unsuccessful.
-Falcon-like they fly in summer through the tundra, in winter along
-the coast regions of the North Sea; they hover over land or sea to
-find their prey, then swoop down skilfully and gracefully and seize
-without fail the victim they have sighted. But even these capable
-hunters do not scruple, under some circumstances, to become bold
-beggars. Woe to the gull or other sea-bird which seizes its prey within
-sight of a skua! With arrow-like swiftness he follows the fortunate
-possessor uttering barking cries, dances, as if playfully, round him
-on all sides, cunningly prevents any attempt at flight, resists all
-defence, and untiringly and ceaselessly teases him till he gives up
-his prize, even though it has to be regurgitated from his crop. The
-life and habits of the Arctic skua, its skill and agility, its courage
-and impudence, untiring watchfulness and irresistible importunity
-are extraordinarily fascinating; even its begging can be excused, so
-great are its charms. Yet the phalarope is still more attractive. It
-is a shore bird, which unites in itself the qualities of its own order
-and those of the swimming birds, living, as it does, partly on land,
-partly in the water, even in the sea. Buoyant and agile, surpassing
-all other swimming birds in grace of motion, it glides upon the waves;
-quickly and nimbly it runs along the shore; with the speed of a snipe
-it wings its zigzag flight through the air. Confidently and without
-fear it allows itself to be observed quite closely, and in its anxiety
-for the safety of its brood usually betrays its own nest, with the
-four pear-shaped eggs, however carefully it has been concealed among
-the reeds. It is perhaps the most pleasing of all the birds of the
-tundra.[13]
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 9.--Skuas, Phalarope, and Golden Plovers.]
-
-Likewise characteristic of the tundra are the birds of prey, or, at
-least, their manner of life there is characteristic. For it is only on
-the southern boundary of the region or among the heights that there
-are trees or rocks on which they can build their eyries, and they are
-perforce obliged to brood on the ground. Among the winding branches of
-the dwarf-birch is the nest of the marsh-owl, on its crown that of the
-rough-legged buzzard; on the bare ground lie the eggs of the snowy-owl
-and the peregrine falcon, though the latter chooses a place as near as
-possible to the edge of a gully, as though he would deceive himself by
-vainly attempting to make up for the lack of heights. That it and all
-the others are fully conscious of the insecurity of their nesting-place
-is shown by their behaviour on the approach of man. From a distance the
-traveller is watched suspiciously and is greeted with loud cries; the
-nearer he approaches the greater grows the fear of the anxious parents.
-Hitherto they have been circling at a safe distance, about twice as far
-as a shot would carry, over the unfamiliar but dreaded enemy; now they
-swoop boldly down, and fly so closely past his head that he distinctly
-hears the sharp whirr of their wings, sometimes indeed he has reason
-to fear that he will be actually attacked. Meanwhile the young birds,
-which are visible even from a distance as white balls, bend timidly
-down and await the approach of this enemy,--suspected at least, if not
-known as such,--sitting so still in their chosen, or perhaps forced
-position that one can sketch them without fear of being disturbed by a
-single movement--a charming picture!
-
-Many other animals might be enumerated if I thought them necessary
-to a picture of the tundra. At least one more is characteristic--the
-mosquito. To call it the most important living creature of the tundra
-would be scarcely an exaggeration. It enables not a few of the higher
-animals, especially birds and fishes, to live; it forces others, like
-man, to periodic wanderings; and it is in itself enough to make the
-tundra uninhabitable in summer by civilized beings. Its numbers are
-beyond all conception; its power conquers man and beast; the torture it
-causes beggars description.
-
-It is well known that the eggs of all mosquitoes are laid in the water,
-and that the larvæ which creep forth in a few days remain in the water
-till their metamorphosis is accomplished. This explains why the tundra
-is more favourable than any other region to their development, and to
-their occurrence in enormous numbers. As soon as the sun, once more
-ascending, has thawed the snow, the ice, and the upper crust of the
-earth, the life of the mosquito, latent in winter but not extinguished,
-begins to stir again. The larvæ escape from the eggs which have been
-buried, but not destroyed, in the frozen mud; in a few days these larvæ
-become pupæ, the pupæ become winged insects, and generation follows
-generation in quick succession. The heyday of the terrible pests lasts
-from before the beginning of the summer solstice until the middle of
-August.
-
-During the whole of this time they are present on the heights as in the
-low grounds, on the mountains or hills as in the valleys, among the
-dwarf-birches and sallow bushes as on the banks of rivers and lakes.
-Every grass-stalk, every moss-blade, every twig, every branch, every
-little leaf sends forth hundreds and thousands of them all day long.
-The mosquitoes of tropical countries, of the forests and marshes of
-South America, the interior of Africa, India, and the Sunda islands,
-so much dreaded by travellers, swarm only at night; the mosquitoes
-of the tundra fly for ten weeks, for six of these actually without
-interruption. They form swarms which look like thick black smoke; they
-surround, as with a fog, every creature which ventures into their
-domains; they fill the air in such numbers that one hardly dares to
-breathe; they baffle every attempt to drive them off; they transform
-the strongest man into an irresolute weakling, his anger into fear, his
-curses into groans.
-
-As soon as the traveller sets foot on the tundra their buzzing is
-heard, now like the singing of a tea-kettle, now like the sound of
-a vibrating metal rod, and, a few minutes later, he is surrounded
-by thousands and thousands. A cloud of them swarms round head and
-shoulders, body and limbs, follows his steps, however quickly he moves,
-and cannot possibly be dispersed. If he remain standing, the cloud
-thickens; if he move on, it draws itself out; if he run as quickly as
-possible, it stretches into a long train, but does not remain behind.
-If a moderate wind is blowing against them, the insects hasten their
-flight to make headway against the current of air; when the wind
-is more violent all the members of the swarm strain themselves to
-the utmost so as not to lose their victim, and pounce like pricking
-hailstones on head and neck. Before he knows, he is covered from head
-to foot with mosquitoes. In a dense swarm, blackening gray clothes,
-giving dark ones a strange spotted appearance, they settle down and
-creep slowly about, looking for an unappropriated spot from which
-to suck blood. They creep noiselessly and without being felt to the
-unprotected face and neck, the bare hands and the feet covered only
-with stockings, and a moment later they slowly sink their sting into
-the skin, and pour the irritant poison into the wound. Furiously the
-victim beats the blood-sucker to a pulp, but while the chastising
-hand still moves, three, four, ten other gnats fasten on it, while
-others begin work on the face, neck, and feet, ready to do exactly as
-the slain ones had done. For when blood has once flowed, when several
-insects have met their death on the same place, all the rest seek out
-that very spot, even though the surface becomes gradually covered with
-bodies. Specially favourite points of attack are the temples, the
-forehead just under the hat-brim, the neck and the wrist, places, in
-short, which can be least well protected.
-
-If an observer can so far restrain himself as to watch them at their
-work of blood, without driving them away or disturbing them, he
-notices that neither their settling nor their moving about is felt in
-the least. Immediately after alighting they set to work. Leisurely
-they walk up and down on the skin, carefully feeling it with their
-proboscis; suddenly they stand still and with surprising ease pierce
-the skin. While they suck, they lift one of the hind-legs and wave it
-with evident satisfaction backwards and forwards, the more emphatically
-the more the translucent body becomes filled with blood. As soon as
-they have tasted blood they pay no heed to anything else, and seem
-scarcely to feel though they are molested and tortured. If one draws
-the proboscis out of the wound with forceps, they feel about for a
-moment, and then bore again in the same or a new place; if one cuts
-the proboscis quickly through with sharp scissors, they usually remain
-still as if they must think for a minute, then pass the forelegs
-gently over the remaining portion and make a prolonged examination to
-assure themselves that the organ is no longer present; if one suddenly
-cuts off one of their hind-legs, they go on sucking as if nothing had
-happened and continue to move the stump; if one cuts the blood-filled
-body in half, they proceed like Münchausen’s horse at the well, but at
-length they withdraw the proboscis from the wound, fly staggeringly
-away and die within a few minutes.
-
-Careful observation of their habits places it beyond doubt that, in the
-discovery of their victim, they are guided less by sight than by smell,
-or perhaps, more correctly, by a sense which unites smell and tactile
-sensitiveness.[14] It can be observed with certainty that, if a human
-being approach within five yards of their resting-place, they rise and
-fly to their prey without hesitating or diverging. If anyone crosses a
-bare sand-bank usually free from them he can observe how they gather
-about their victim. Apparently half carried by the wind, half moving by
-their own exertions, but at any rate wandering aimlessly, some float
-continually over even this place of pilgrimage, and a few thus reach
-the neighbourhood of the observer. At once their seeming inactivity
-is at an end. Abruptly they alter their course, and make straight for
-the happily-found object of their longing. Others soon join them, and
-before five minutes have passed, the martyr is again surrounded by
-a nimbus. They find their way less easily through different strata
-of air. While observing them on a high dune I had been followed and
-tormented for some time by thousands, so I led the swarm to the edge of
-the steep slope, let it thicken there, and then sprang suddenly to the
-foot. With much satisfaction I saw that I had shaken off the greater
-number of my tormentors. They swarmed in bewildered confusion on the
-top of the dune, forming a dense cloud for some time over the place
-from which I had leaped. A few hundreds had, however, followed me to
-the lower ground.
-
-Though the naturalist knows that it is only the female mosquitoes which
-suck blood, and that their activity in this respect is indubitably
-connected with reproduction, and is probably necessary to the ripening
-of the fertilized eggs, yet even he is finally overcome by the tortures
-caused by these demons of the tundra, though he be the most equable
-philosopher under the sun. It is not the pain caused by the sting, or
-still more, by the resulting swelling; it is the continual annoyance,
-the everlastingly recurring discomfort under which one suffers. One can
-endure the pain of the sting without complaint even at first, still
-more easily when the skin has become less sensitive to the repeatedly
-instilled poison; thus one can hold out for a long time. But sooner
-or later every man is bound to confess himself conquered and beaten
-by these terrible torturing spirits of the tundra. All resistance is
-gradually paralysed by the innumerable, omnipresent armies always
-ready for combat. The foot refuses its duty; the mind receives no
-impressions; the tundra becomes a hell, and its pests an unutterable
-torture. Not winter with its snows, not the ice with its cold, not
-poverty, not inhospitality, but the mosquitoes are the curse of the
-tundra.[15]
-
-During the height of their season the mosquitoes fly almost
-uninterruptedly, during sunshine and calm weather with evident
-satisfaction, in a moderate wind quite comfortably, in slightly warm
-weather gaily, before threatening rain most boisterously of all, in
-cool weather very little, in cold, not at all. A violent storm banishes
-them to the bushes and moss, but, as soon as it moderates, they are
-once more lively and active, and in all places sheltered from the wind
-they are ready for attack even while the storm is raging. A night of
-hoar-frost plays obvious havoc among them, but does not rid us of them;
-cold damp days thin their armies, but succeeding warmth brings hosts of
-newly developed individuals on the field. The autumn fogs finally bring
-deliverance for that year.
-
-Autumn in the tundra comes on as quickly as spring came slowly. A
-single cold night, generally in August, or at the latest in September,
-puts an end to its summer life. The berries, which, in the middle of
-August, looked as if they would scarcely ripen at all, have become as
-juicy and sweet as possible by the end of the month; a few damp, cold
-nights, which lightly cover the hills with snow, hasten their ripening
-more than the sun, which is already clouded over all day long. The
-leaves of the dwarf-birch become a pale but brilliant lake-red on the
-upper surface, a bright yellow beneath; all the other bushes and shrubs
-undergo a similar transformation: and the gloomy brown-green of the
-tundra becomes such a vivid brown-red that even the yellow-green of
-the reindeer-moss is no longer conspicuous. The winged summer guests
-fly southwards or towards the sea, the fishes of the tundra swim down
-the rivers. From the hills the reindeer, followed by the wolf, comes
-down to the low grounds; the ptarmigan, now congregated in flocks of
-thousands, fly up to the heights to remain until winter again drives
-them down to the low tundra.
-
-After a few days this winter, as much dreaded by us as by the migratory
-birds, yet longed for by the human inhabitants of the tundra, sets
-in on the inhospitable land, to maintain its supremacy longer, much
-longer than spring, summer, and autumn together. For days and weeks in
-succession snow falls, sometimes coming down lightly in sharp-cornered
-crystals, or sometimes in large flakes, driven by a raging storm. Hills
-and valleys, rivers and lakes are gradually shrouded in the same winter
-dress. A brief ray of sunshine still gleams occasionally at mid-day
-over the snowy expanse; but soon only a pale brightness in the south
-proclaims that there the sunny day is half-gone. The long night of
-winter has begun. For months only the faint reflection of the stars
-twinkles in the snow, only the moon gives tidings of the vitalizing
-centre of our system. But when the sun has quite disappeared from the
-tundra another light rises radiant: far up in the north there flickers
-and flashes “Soweidud”, the fire of God, the flaming Northern Light.
-
-
-
-
-THE ASIATIC STEPPES AND THEIR FAUNA.
-
-
-There is perhaps monotony, but there is also the interest of a
-well-marked individuality in that immense tract of country which
-includes the whole of Central Asia, and extends into Southern Europe,
-and which forms the region of the steppes. To the superficial observer
-it may seem an easy thing to characterize these steppes, but the
-difficulty of the task is soon felt by the careful observer. For the
-steppes are not so invariably uniform, so absolutely changeless as is
-usually supposed. They have their time of blooming and their time of
-withering, their summer and their winter aspects, and some variety
-at every season is implied in the fact that there are mountains and
-valleys, streams and rivers, lakes and marshes. The monotony is really
-due to the thousand-fold repetition of the same picture, what pleased
-and even charmed when first seen becoming tame by everyday familiarity.
-
-The Russian applies the word steppe, which we have borrowed from his
-language, to all unwooded tracts in middle latitudes, when they are
-of considerable extent, and bear useful vegetation. It matters not
-whether they be perfectly flat or gently undulating plains, highlands
-or mountains, whether there be patches of fat, black soil, admitting
-of profitable agriculture, or merely great tracts of poor soil covered
-with such vegetation as grows without man’s aid, and is useful only
-to the nomadic herdsman. This wide usage of the term is convenient,
-for throughout the whole region we find the same plants rising from
-the ground, the same types of animal life, and approximately the same
-phenomena of seasonal change.
-
-Unwooded the steppe-lands must be called, but they are not absolutely
-treeless. Neither shrubs nor trees are awanting where the beds of the
-streams and rivers form broad and deep valleys. In very favourable
-circumstances, willows, white and silver poplars, grow to be lofty
-trees, which may unite in a thick fringe by the river banks, or birches
-may establish themselves and form groves and woods, or pines may plant
-their feet firmly on the sand-dunes, and form small settlements, which,
-though not comparable to true forests, are, at least, compact little
-woods, like the growths along the river-banks. But, after all, such
-wooded spots are exceptions, they constitute to some extent a foreign
-element in the steppe scenery, and suggest oases in a desert.
-
-At one place the steppe may stretch before the eye as a boundless
-plain, here and there gently undulating; at another place the
-region has been much upheaved, is full of variety, and may even be
-mountainous. Generally the horizon is bounded on all sides by ranges of
-hills of variable height, and often these hills inclose a trough-like
-valley from which it seems as if the water must be puzzled to find its
-way out, if, indeed, it does so at all. From the longer cross valleys
-of the often much-ramified ranges a small stream may flow towards the
-lowest part of the basin and end in a lake, whose salt-covered shores
-sparkle in the distance as if the winter snow still lay upon them.
-Viewed from afar, the hills look like lofty mountains, for on these
-vast plains the eye loses its standard for estimating magnitude; and
-when the rocks stand out above the surface and form domes and cones,
-sharp peaks and jagged pinnacles on their summits, even the practised
-observer is readily deceived. Of course there are some genuinely lofty
-mountains, for, apart from those near the Chinese boundary, there are
-others on the Kirghiz steppes, which even on close view lose little
-of the impressiveness that the ruggedness of their peaks and slopes
-gives them when seen from a distance. The higher and more ramified
-the mountains, the more numerous are the streams which they send down
-to the lower grounds, and the larger are the lakes that occupy the
-depressions at their base--basins which their feeders are unable to
-fill, even though unable to find a way through the surrounding banks.
-The more extensive, also, are the salt-steppes around these lakes--salt
-because they have no outlet. But apart from these variations, the
-characteristics of the steppes are uniform; though the composition of
-the picture is often changed, its theme remains the same.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 10.--View in the Asiatic Steppes.]
-
-We should convey a false impression if we denied charm, or even
-grandeur, to the scenery of the steppes. The North German moorland is
-drearier, Brandenburg is more monotonous. In the gently undulating
-plain the eye rests gratefully on the lakes which fill all the deeper
-hollows; in the highlands or among the loftier mountains the gleaming
-water-basins are a real ornament to the landscape. It is true that the
-lake is, in most cases, though not invariably, without the charm of
-surrounding verdure, often without so much as a fringe of bushes. But,
-even when it lies naked and bare, it brightens the steppes. For the
-blue sky, mirrored on its surface, smiles kindly towards us, and the
-enlivening effect of water makes itself felt even here. And when a lake
-is ringed round by hills, or framed, as at Alakul, by lofty mountains;
-when the steppes are sharply and picturesquely contrasted with the
-glittering water-surface, the dark mountain-sides, and the snowy
-summits; when the soft haze of distance lies like a delicate veil over
-hill and plain, suggesting a hidden beauty richer than there really
-is; then we acknowledge readily and gladly that there is a witchery of
-landscape even in the steppes.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 11.--A Salt Marsh in the Steppes.]
-
-Even when we traverse the monotonous valleys many miles in breadth,
-or the almost unbroken plains, whose far horizon is but an undulating
-line, when we see one almost identical picture to north, south, east,
-and west, when the apparent infinitude raises a feeling of loneliness
-and abandonment, even then we must allow that the steppes have more
-to show than our heaths, for the vegetation is much richer, more
-brilliant, and more changeful. Indeed, it is only here and there,
-where the salt-steppes broaden out around a lake, that the landscape
-seems dreary and desolate. In such places none of the steppe plants
-flourish, and their place is taken by a small, scrubby saltwort, not
-unlike stunted heather, only here and there attaining the size of low
-bushes. The salt lies as a more or less thick layer on the ground,
-filling the hollows between the bushes so that they look like pools
-covered with ice. Salt covers the whole land, keeping the mud beneath
-permanently moist, adhering firmly to the ground, and hardly separable
-from it. Great balls of salt and mud are raised by the traveller’s
-feet and the horses’ hoofs at every step, just as if the ground were
-covered with slushy snow. The waggon makes a deep track in the tough
-substratum, and the trundling wheels sometimes leave marks on the salt
-like those left on snow in time of hard frost. Such regions are in
-truth indescribably dismal and depressing, but elsewhere it is not so.
-
-The vegetation of the steppes is much richer in species than is usually
-supposed, much richer indeed than I, not being a botanist, am able to
-compute. On the black soil, the tschi-grass, the thyrsa-grass, and the
-spiræa in some places choke off almost all other plants; but in the
-spaces between these, and on leaner soil, all sorts of gay flowers
-spring up. In the hollows, too, the vegetation becomes gradually that
-of the marsh, and reeds and rushes, which here predominate, leave
-abundant room for the development of a varied plant-life. But the time
-of blooming is short, and the time of withering and dying is long in
-the steppes.[16]
-
-Perhaps it is not too much to say that the contrasts of the seasons
-are nowhere more vivid than in the steppes. Wealth of bright flowers
-and desert-like sterility, the charms of autumn and the desolation of
-winter, succeed one another; the disruptive forces are as strong as
-those which recreate, the sun’s heat destroys as surely as the cold.
-But what has been smitten by the heat and swept away by raging storms
-is replaced in the first sunshine of spring; and even the devouring
-fire is not potent enough wholly to destroy what has been spared by the
-sun and the storms. The spring may seem more potent in tropical lands,
-but nowhere is it more marvellous than in the steppes, where in its
-power it stands--alone--opposed to summer, autumn, and winter.
-
-The steppes are still green when summer steals upon them, but already
-their full splendour has sped. Only a few plants have yet to attain
-their maturity, and they wither in the first days of the burning
-heat; soon the gay garment of spring is exchanged for one of gray and
-yellow. The sappy, green thyrsa-grass still withstands the drought;
-but its fine, flowing, thickly-haired beards have already attained
-their full growth, and wave about in the gentlest breeze, casting a
-silvery veil over the green beneath. A few days more, and both leaves
-and awns are as dry as the already yellowed tschi-grass, which appears
-in spring like sprouting corn, and is now like that which awaits the
-sickle. The broad leaves of the rhubarb lie dried on the ground, the
-spiræa is withered, the Caragan pea-tree is leafless, honeysuckle and
-dwarf-almond show autumnal tints; the thistle tops are hoary; only the
-wormwoods and mugworts preserve their gray-green leaves unchanged.
-Bright uninterrupted sunshine beats down upon the thirsty land, for it
-is but rarely that the clouds gather into wool-packs on the sky, and
-even if they are occasionally heavy with rain, the downpour is scarce
-enough to lay the whirling dust which every breath of wind raises.
-The animals still keep to their summer quarters, but the songs of the
-birds are already hushed. Creeping things there are in abundance, such
-as lizards and snakes, mostly vipers; and the grasshoppers swarm in
-countless hosts, forming clouds when they take wing over the steppes.
-
-Before the summer has ended, the steppes have put on their autumnal
-garb, a variously shaded gray-yellow, but without variety and without
-charm. All the brittle plants are snapped to the ground by the first
-storm, and the next blast scatters them in a whirling dance over the
-steppes. Grappling one another with their branches and twigs, they are
-rolled together into balls, skipping and leaping like spooks before the
-raging wind, half-hidden in clouds of drifting dust with which the dark
-or snow-laden packs in the sky above seem to be running a race. The
-summer land-birds have long since flown southwards; the water-birds,
-of which there are hosts on every lake, are preparing for flight; the
-migratory mammals wend in crowded troops from one promise of food to
-another; the winter-sleepers have closed the doors of their retreats;
-reptiles and insects have withdrawn into their winter hiding-places.
-
-A single night’s frost covers all the water-basins with thin ice;
-a few more days of cold and the fetters of winter are laid heavily
-on the lakes and pools; and only the rivers and streams, longer
-able to withstand the frost, afford a briefly prolonged shelter to
-the migratory birds which have still delayed their farewell. Gentle
-north-west winds sweep dark clouds across the land, and the snow
-drizzles down in small flakes. The mountains have already thrown on
-their snowy mantles; and now the low ground of the steppes puts on
-its garment of white. The wolf, apprehensive of storms, leaves the
-reed-thickets and the spiræa shrubberies which have hitherto served
-him well as hiding-places, and slinks hungrily around the villages and
-the winter quarters of the nomad herdsman, who now seeks out the most
-sheltered and least exhausted of the low grounds, in order to save his
-herds, as far as may be, from the scarcity, hardship, and misery of the
-winter. Against the greedy wolf the herdsman acts on the aggressive, as
-do the Cossack settlers and peasants; he rides out in pursuit, follows
-the thief’s tell-tale track to his lair, drives him out, and gives
-chase. With exultant shouts he spurs on his horse and terrifies the
-fugitive, all the while brandishing in his right hand a strong sapling
-with knobbed roots. The snow whirls around wolf, horse, and rider; the
-keen frost bites the huntsman’s face, but he cares not. After a chase
-of an hour, or at most of two hours, the wolf, which may have run a
-dozen or twenty miles, can go no further, and turns upon its pursuer.
-Its tongue hangs far out from its throat, the ice-tipped hairs of its
-reeking hide stand up stiffly, in its mad eyes is expressed the dread
-of death. Only for a moment does the noble horse hesitate, then, urged
-on by shout and knout, makes a rush at the fell enemy. High in the air
-the hunter swings his fatal club, down it whizzes, and the wolf lies
-gasping and quivering in its death agony. Wild horses and antelopes,
-impelled by hunger, like the wolf, shift their quarters at this season,
-in the endeavour to eke out a bare subsistence; even the wild sheep of
-the mountains wend from one hillside to another; only the hares and
-the imperturbable sand-grouse hold their ground, the former feeding on
-stems and bark, the latter on seeds and buds, but both finding only a
-scant subsistence.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 12.--A Herd of Horses during a Snowstorm on the
-Asiatic Steppes.]
-
-For many days in succession the fall of snow continues; then the
-wind, which brought the clouds, dies away, but the sky remains as
-dark as ever. The wind changes and blows harder and harder from east,
-south-east, south, or south-west. A thin cloud sweeps over the white
-ground--it is formed of whirling snow; the wind becomes a tempest;
-the cloud rises up to heaven: and, maddening, bewildering even to the
-most weather-hardened, dangerous in the extreme to all things living,
-the _buran_ rages across the steppes, a snow-hurricane, as terrible as
-the typhoon or the simoom with its poisonous breath. For two or three
-days such a snow-storm may rage with uninterrupted fury, and both man
-and beast are absolutely storm-stayed. A man overtaken in the open
-country is lost, unless some special providence save him; nay, more,
-even in the village or steppe-town, he who ventures out of doors when
-the buran is at its height may perish, as indeed not rarely happens.
-When February is past, man and beast are fairly safe, and may breathe
-freely, though the winter still continues to press heavily on the
-steppes.
-
-The sun rises higher in the heavens; its rays fall more warmly on the
-southern slopes of the mountains and hills, and dark patches of clear
-ground appear everywhere, growing larger day by day, except when an
-occasional fresh fall of snow hides them for a little. The first breath
-of spring comes at last, but only slowly can it free the land from
-winter’s shackles. Only when the life-giving sunshine is accompanied by
-the soft south wind, at the earliest in the beginning of April, usually
-about the middle of the month, does the snow disappear quickly from the
-lower slopes of the mountains and from the deep valleys rich in black
-earth. Only in gorges and steep-walled hollows, behind precipitous
-hills, and amid thick bushes, do the snow-wreaths linger for almost
-another month. In all other places the newly-awakened life bursts forth
-in strength. The thirsty soil sucks in the moisture which the melting
-snow supplies, and the two magicians--sun and water--now unite their
-irresistible powers. Even before the last snow-wreaths have vanished,
-before the rotten ice-blocks have melted on the lakes, the bulbous
-plants, and others which live through the winter, put forth their
-leaves and raise their flower-stalks to the sun. Among the sere yellow
-grass and the dry gray stems of all herbs which were not snapped by the
-autumnal storm, the first green shimmers. It is at this time that the
-settlers and the nomads set fire to the thick herbage of various sorts,
-and what the storms have spared the flames devour. But soon after the
-fire has cleared the ground, the plant-life reappears, in patches at
-least, in all its vigour. From the apparently sterile earth herbaceous
-and bulbous growths shoot up; buds are unpacked, flowers unfold, and
-the steppe arrays itself in indescribable splendour. Boundless tracts
-are resplendent with tulips, yellow, dark red, white, white and red.
-It is true that they rise singly or in twos and threes, but they are
-spread over the whole steppe-land, and flower at the same time, so that
-one sees them everywhere. Immediately after the tulips come the lilies,
-and new, even more charming colours appear wherever these lovely
-children of the steppes find the fit conditions for growth, on the
-hillsides and in the deep valleys, along the banks of all the streams,
-and in the marshes. More gregarious and richer in species than the
-tulips, they appear in much more impressive multitudes; they completely
-dominate wide stretches of country, and in different places remind
-one of a rye-field overgrown with corn-flowers, or of a rape-field
-in full blossom. Usually each species or variety is by itself, but
-here and there blue lilies and yellow are gaily intermingled, the two
-complementary colours producing a most impressive effect--a vision for
-rapture.
-
-While these first-born children of the spring are adorning the earth,
-the heavens also begin to smile. Unclouded the spring sky certainly is
-not, rather it is covered with clouds of all sorts, even in the finest
-weather with bedded clouds and wool-packs, which stretch more or less
-thickly over the whole dome of heaven, and around the horizon appear
-to touch the ground. When these clouds thicken the heavens darken,
-and only here and there does the sunlight pierce the curtain and show
-the steppes warmed by the first breath of spring, and flushed with
-inconceivable wealth of colour.
-
-But every day adds some new tint. There is less and less of the
-yellowish tone which last year’s withered stalks give even in spring
-to the steppes; the garment already so bright continues to gain in
-freshness and brightness. After a few weeks, the steppe-land lies like
-a gay carpet in which all tints show distinctly, from dark green to
-bright yellow-green, the predominant gray-green of the wormwoods being
-relieved by the deeper and brighter tones of more prominent herbs and
-dwarf-shrubs. The dwarf-almond, which, alone or in association with the
-pea-tree and the honeysuckle, covers broad stretches of low ground, is
-now, along with its above-mentioned associates, in all its glory. Its
-twigs are literally covered all over with blossom; the whole effect is
-a shimmer of peach-red, in lively contrast to the green of the grass
-and herbage, to the bloom of the pea-trees, and even to the delicate
-rose-red or reddish-white of the woodbine. In suitable places the
-woodbine forms quite a thicket, and, when in full bloom, seems to make
-of all surrounding colour but a groundwork on which to display its own
-brilliancy. Various, and to me unknown, shrubs and herbs give high and
-low tones to the picture, and the leaves of others, which wither as
-rapidly as they unfold, become spots of yellow-green and gold. Seen
-from a distance, all the colours do indeed merge into an almost uniform
-gray-green; but near at hand each colour tells, and one sees the
-countless individual flowers which have now opened, sees them singly
-everywhere, but also massed together in more favourable spots, where
-they make the shades of the bushes glorious. Amid the infinite variety
-of bulbous plants there are exquisite vetches; among many that are
-unfamiliar there are old friends well known in our flower-gardens; more
-and more does the feeling of enchantment grow on one, until at last it
-seems as if one had wandered into an unending, uncared-for garden of
-flowers.
-
-With the spring and the flowers the animal life of the steppes appears
-also to awaken. Even before the last traces of winter are gone, the
-migratory birds, which fled in autumn, have returned, and when the
-spring has begun in earnest the winter sleepers open the doors of the
-burrows within which they have slumbered in death-like trance through
-all the evil days. As the migratory birds rejoin the residents, so the
-sleepers come forth and join those mammals which are either careless of
-winter or know how to survive it at least awake. At the same time the
-insects celebrate their Easter, hastening from their hidden shelters
-or accomplishing the last phase of their metamorphosis; and now, too,
-the newts and frogs, lizards and snakes leave their winter quarters to
-enjoy in the spring sunshine the warmth indispensable to their activity
-and full life, and to dream of the summer which will bring them an
-apathetic happiness.
-
-The steppe now becomes full of life. Not that the animal life is of
-many types, but it is abundant and everywhere distributed. The same
-forms are met with everywhere, and missed nowhere. There are here no
-hosts of mammals comparable to the herds of antelopes on the steppes
-of Central Africa, nor to the troops of zebras and quaggas[17] in the
-South African karoo, nor to the immeasurable trains of buffaloes on
-the North American prairies;[18] nor are the birds of the steppes so
-numerous as those on the continental shores or on single islands, or
-on the African steppes, or in equatorial forests. But both birds and
-mammals enter into the composition of a steppe landscape; they help to
-form and complete the peculiarity of this region; in short, the steppes
-also have their characteristic fauna.
-
-The places at which the animals chiefly congregate are the lakes and
-pools, rivers and brooks. Before the existence of a lake is revealed
-by the periodically or permanently flooded reed-forests surrounding
-it, hundreds and thousands of marsh-birds and swimmers have told the
-practised observer of the still invisible sheet of water. In manifoldly
-varied flight, fishing-gulls, common gulls, and herring-gulls sweep
-and glide over its surface; more rapidly and less steadily do the
-terns pursue the chase over the reeds and the pools which these
-inclose; in mid-air the screaming eagles circle; ducks, geese, and
-swans fly from one part of the lake to another; kites hover over the
-reeds; even sea-eagles and pelicans now and then show face. As to the
-actual inhabitants of these lakes, as to the number of species and
-individuals, one can only surmise until one has stationed oneself on
-the banks, or penetrated into the thicket of reeds. In the salt-steppe,
-as is readily intelligible, the animal life is sparser. With hasty
-flight most of the water-birds pass over the inhospitable, salt-covered
-shores, as they wend from lake to lake; only the black-headed gulls and
-fishing-gulls are willing to rest for a time by the not wholly dry,
-but shallow, briny basins; only the sheldrake fishes there in company
-with the charming avocet, who seeks out just these very places, and,
-living in pairs or small companies, spends his days stirring up the
-salt water, swinging his delicate head with upturned bill from side to
-side indefatigably. Of other birds I only saw a few, a yellow or white
-wagtail, a lapwing, a plover; the rest seem to avoid the uninviting
-desolateness of these brine pools, all the more that infinitely more
-promising swamps and pools are to be found quite near them. About the
-lake itself abundant food seems to be promised to all comers. Thus
-not only do thousands of marsh and water birds settle on its surface,
-but even the little songsters and passerine birds, unprovided for by
-the dry steppes, come hither. Not the fishers alone, but other hungry
-birds of prey find here their daily bread. The steppe-lakes cannot
-indeed be compared with those of North Africa, where, during winter,
-the feathered tribes of three-quarters of the globe have their great
-rendezvous, nor with the equatorial water-basins, which are thronged
-by hundreds of thousands of birds at every season, nor even with the
-marsh-lands of the Danube, where, all through the summer, countless
-children of the air find rest; in proportion to the extent of water
-in the steppes the number of winged settlers may seem small, but the
-bird-fauna is really very considerable, and the lakes of the steppes
-have also a certain uniqueness in regard to the nesting-places chosen
-by the birds.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 13.--Lake Scene and Water-fowl in an Asiatic
-Steppe.]
-
-Here every creature has its home among the reeds: the wolf and the
-boar, the eagle and the wild-goose, the kite and the swan, the raven
-and the mallard, the gadwall or teal, the thrush and the white-throat,
-the reed-tit and the sparrow, the reed-bunting and the ortolan, the
-willow wren and the blue-throated warbler, the lesser kestrel and
-the red-footed falcon, the crane and the lapwing, the shrike and the
-snipe, the starling, the yellow and white wagtails, the quail and the
-kingfisher, the great white heron and the spoonbill, the cormorant and
-the pelican. The reed-thickets afford home and shelter to all; they
-take the place of woods in affording hiding and security; in their
-retreats the secrets of love are told, and the joys of family life are
-expressed, exuberant rejoicings are uttered, and the tenderest cares
-are fulfilled; they are the cradles and the schools of the young.
-
-Of the mammals which congregate among the reeds one usually sees only
-the tracks, provided, of course, that one does not resort to forceful
-measures and ransack the thicket with dogs. Of the flitting bird-life,
-however, in its general features at least, the practised eye of the
-naturalist may at any time obtain a lively picture.
-
-When we leave the dry steppes and approach a lake, the
-widely-distributed larks disappear, and their place is taken by the
-plovers, whose plaintive cries fall mournfully on the ear. One of
-them may be seen running by fits and starts along the ground, with
-the characteristic industry of its race, stopping here and there to
-pick up some minute booty, and then running off again as swiftly
-as ever. Before we reach the reeds we see the black-headed gulls,
-probably also the common gulls, and, in favourable circumstances,
-even a great black-backed gull. The first fly far into the steppes
-to seek out the grazing herds, and are equally decorative whether
-they sweep gracefully over and around them in thick crowds, catching
-in their flight the insects which the grazing beasts have disturbed,
-or whether they run behind the herd like white pigeons seeking their
-food in the fields. Near the reeds we also see one or other of the
-wild-geese--a male who for a short time has left his mate sitting
-upon the eggs, to graze, while it is still possible, on the grassy
-patches near the reed-thicket. Soon, however, parental cares, in
-which all ganders share, will recall him to the recesses of the
-willows close by the lake, to the nook where the careful parents
-have their gray-greenish-yellow goslings well hidden. Over all the
-flooded shallows there is a more active life. On the margins of the
-pools small littoral birds have their well-chosen fighting-grounds.
-Fighting-ruffs,[19] now arrayed in their gayest dress, meet there in
-combat; with depressed head each directs his beak like a couched lance
-against the bright neck-collar which serves his foe for shield. The
-combatants stand in most defiant attitudes, irresistibly amusing to us;
-for a moment they look at one another with their sharp eyes and then
-make a rush, each making a thrust, and at the same time receiving one
-on his feathery shield. But none of the heroes is in any way injured,
-and none allows the duelling to interfere with less exciting business;
-for if, during the onslaught, one see a fly just settling on a stem, he
-does not allow it to escape him, and his opponent is equally attentive
-to the swimming beetle darting about on the surface of a small pool;
-hastily they run, one here and the other there, seize the booty which
-they spied, and return refreshed to the fray. Meantime, however,
-other combatants have taken the field, and the fight seems as if it
-would never have an end. But suddenly a marsh-harrier comes swooping
-along, and the heroes hastily quit the field; they rise together in
-close-packed flight, and hurry to another pond, there to repeat the
-same old game. The dreaded harrier is the terror of all the other
-birds of the lake. At his approach the weaker ducks rise noisily,
-and, a moment later, their stronger relatives, more disturbed by the
-ducks than by the bird of prey, rise impetuously, and with whizzing
-beating of wings, circle several times over the lake and sink again
-in detachments. With trilling call the redshanks also rise, and with
-them the snipe, whose cry, though tuneless, is audible from afar. The
-robber sweeps past all too near, but both redshank and snipe forget
-his menace as soon as they reach a safe height; they seem to feel only
-the golden spring-tide and the joy of love which now dominates them.
-For the redshank sinks suddenly to the water far beneath, flutters,
-and hovers with his wings hanging downwards and forwards, rises again
-with insistent calls and sinks once more, until a response from his
-mate near by invites him to cease from his love-play and to hasten
-to her. So is it also with the snipe, who, after he has ended his
-zigzag flight, and ascended to twice the height of a tower, lets
-himself fall suddenly. In the precipitous descent he broadens out
-his tail, and opposes the flexible, narrow, pointed lateral feathers
-to the resisting air, thus giving rise to that bleating noise to
-which he owes his quaint name of sky-goat.[20] Only a pair of the
-exceedingly long-legged black-winged stilts, which were pursuing their
-business in apparently aristocratic isolation from the throng, have
-remained undisturbed by the marsh-harrier; perhaps they saw the bold
-black-headed gulls hastening to drive off the disturber of the peace.
-Moreover, a Montagu’s harrier and a steppe-harrier have united their
-strength against the marsh-harrier, whom they hate with a bitterness
-proportionate to his near relationship. Without hesitation the robber
-makes for the open country, and next minute there is the wonted
-whistling and warbling, scolding and cackling over the water. Already
-there is a fresh arrival of visitors, drawn by that curiosity common to
-all social birds, and also, of course, by the rich table which these
-lakes afford.
-
-When at length we reach the thicket of reeds the smaller birds become
-more conspicuous, the larger forms being more effectively concealed.
-The crane, which breeds on the most inaccessible spots, the great
-white heron, which fishes on the inner margin of the thicket, the
-spoonbill, which forages for food on the shallowest stretches among the
-reeds, all these keep themselves as far as possible in concealment,
-and of the presence of the bittern in the very heart of the reeds we
-are aware only by his muffled booming. On the other hand, all the
-small birds to which I have referred expose themselves to view almost
-without any wariness, singing and exulting in their loudest notes. The
-yellow wagtails run about confidently on the meadow-like plots of grass
-around the outer margin of the thicket; that marvel of prettiness, the
-bearded titmouse, climbs fearlessly up and down on the reeds, whose
-tops are graced here by a redbreast and there by a gray shrike. From
-all sides the cheerful, though but slightly melodious song of the
-sedge-warblers strikes the ear, and we listen with pleasure to the lay
-of the black-throated thrush, to the lovely singing of the blue-throat,
-the wood-wren, and the icterine warbler, and to the call of the cuckoo.
-On the open pools among the reeds there is sure to be a pair of coots
-swimming with their young brood, and where the water is deeper there
-is perchance an eared grebe among the various kinds of ducks. When
-it draws to evening the red-footed falcon, the lesser kestrel, the
-starlings and the rose-starlings also seek the thicket for the night,
-and of chattering and fussing there is no end. Even the spotted eagle,
-the raven, and the hooded-crow appear as guests for the night, and, on
-the inner margins at least, the cormorant and the pelican rest from
-their fishing.
-
-Finally, over the surface of the lake the gulls fly and hover, the
-terns dart hither and thither, the ernes and ospreys pursue their prey,
-and, where the water is not too deep, the pelicans and swans vie in
-their fishing industry with the greedy cormorants and grebes.
-
-The beds of streams fringed with trees and bushes are hardly less rich
-in life. The trees bear the nests of large and small birds of prey, and
-serve also for their perches. From their tops may be heard the resonant
-call of the golden oriole, the song of the thrush, the laughter of the
-woodpecker, and the cooing of the ring-dove and stock-dove; while from
-the thick undergrowth the glorious song of the nightingale is poured
-forth with such clearness and power, that even the fastidious ear of
-the critic listens in rapture to the rare music. On the surface of the
-stream many different kinds of water-birds swim about as on the lake;
-among the bushes on the banks there is the same gay company that we saw
-among the reeds; the lesser white-throat chatters, the white-throat
-and the barred warbler sing their familiar songs.
-
-When we traverse the dry stretches of the steppes we see another
-aspect of animal life. Again it is the bird-life which first claims
-attention. At least six, and perhaps eight species of larks inhabit the
-steppes, and give life to even the dreariest regions. Uninterruptedly
-does their song fall on the traveller’s ear; from the ground and from
-the tops of the small bushes it rises; from morning to evening the
-rich melody is poured forth from the sky. It seems to be only one song
-which one hears, for the polyphonous calandra lark takes the strophes
-of our sky-lark and of the white-winged lark and combines them with
-its own, nor despises certain notes of the black lark, the red lark,
-and the short-toed lark, but blends all the single songs with its own,
-yet without drowning the song of its relatives, no matter how loudly
-it may pour forth its own and its borrowed melodies. When, in spring,
-we listen enraptured to our own sky-larks in the meadows, and note
-how one sweet singer starts up after another in untiring sequence,
-heralding the spring with inspired and inspiring song, we hardly fancy
-that all that we can hear at home is surpassed a hundredfold on the
-steppes. Yet so it is, for here is the true home of the larks; one
-pair close beside another, one species and then another, or different
-kinds living together, and in such numbers that the broad steppes seem
-to have scarce room enough to hold them all. But the larks are not the
-only inhabitants of these regions. For proportionately numerous are
-the lark’s worst enemies, full of menace to the dearly loved young
-brood--the harriers, characteristic birds of the steppes. Whatever
-region we visit we are sure to see one or another of these birds of
-prey, in the north Montagu’s harrier, in the south the steppe-harrier,
-hurrying over his province, sweeping along near the ground in wavy,
-vacillating flight. Not unfrequently, over a broad hollow, four, six,
-eight or more may be seen at once absorbed in the chase. Even more
-abundant, but not quite so widely distributed, are two other children
-of the steppes, almost identical in nature and habits, and vieing with
-one another in beauty, grace of form, and vigour of movement,--the
-lesser kestrel and the red-footed falcon. Wherever there is a
-perching-place for these charming creatures, where a telegraph-line
-traverses the country, or where a rocky hillock rises from the plain,
-there they are sure to be seen. As good-natured as they are gregarious,
-unenvious of each other’s gain, though they pursue the same booty,
-these falcons wage indefatigable war against insects of all sorts,
-from the voracious grasshopper to the small beetle. There they sit,
-resting and digesting, yet keeping a sharp look-out meanwhile; as soon
-as they spy booty they rise, and after an easy and dexterous flight
-begin to glide, then, stopping, they hover, with scarce perceptible
-vibrations, right over one spot, until, from the height, they are able
-to fasten their eyes surely on their prey. This done, they precipitate
-themselves like a falling stone, seize, if they are fortunate, the
-luckless insect, tear it and devour it as they fly, and, again swinging
-themselves aloft, proceed as before. Not unfrequently ten or twelve of
-both species may be seen hunting over the same spot, and their animated
-behaviour cannot fail to attract and fascinate the observer’s gaze.
-Every day and all day one comes across them, for hours at a time one
-may watch them, and always there is a fresh charm in studying their
-play; they are as characteristic parts of the steppe picture as the
-salt lake, the tulip or the lily, as the dwarf shrub, the tschi-grass,
-or the white wool-packs in the heavens. Characteristic also is the
-rose-starling, beautifully coloured representative of the familiar
-frequenter of our houses and gardens. He is the eager and successful
-enemy of the greedy grasshopper, the truest friend of the grazing
-herds, the untiring guardian of the crops and thus man’s sworn ally,
-an almost sacred bird in the eyes of those who inhabit the steppes.
-Notable also is the sand-grouse, a connecting link between fowl and
-pigeon,[21] which, with other members of its family, is especially at
-home in the desert. Not less noteworthy are the great bustard, its
-handsomer relative the ruffed bustard, and the little bustard. The
-last-named is of special interest to us, because a few years ago it
-wandered into Germany as far as Thuringia, where it now, as in the
-steppe, adds a unique charm to the landscape as it discloses its full
-beauty in whizzing flight. Other beautifully coloured, and indeed
-really splendid birds inhabit the steppes--the lovely bee-eater and
-roller, which live on the steep banks of the streams along with falcons
-and pigeons, the bunting and the scarlet bullfinch, which shelter among
-the tschi-grass and herbage, and many others. Even the swallows are
-not absent from this region in which stable human dwellings are so
-rare. That the sand-martin should make its burrows in all the steeper
-banks of the lakes will not seem strange to the ornithologist, but it
-is worthy of note that the swallow and martins are still in process of
-transition from free-living to semi-domesticated birds, that they still
-fix their nests to the cliffs, but leave these to establish themselves
-wherever the Kirghiz rear a tomb, and that the martins seek hospitality
-even in the tent or _yurt_.[22] They find it, too, when the Kirghiz is
-able to settle long enough to allow the eggs to hatch and the young to
-become fledged, in a nest fixed to the cupola ring of his hut.
-
-But in these regions, whose bird-life I have been describing, there are
-other animals. Apart from the troublesome mosquitoes, flies, gadflies,
-wasps, and other such pests, there are only a few species of insects,
-but most of these are very numerous and are distributed over the whole
-of the wide area. The same is true of the reptiles; thus in the region
-which we traversed we found only a few species of lizards and snakes.
-Among the latter we noted especially two venomous species, our common
-viper and the halys-viper; neither indeed occurred in multitudes like
-the lizards, but both were none the less remarkably abundant. Several
-times every day as we rode through the steppe would one and the other
-of the Kirghiz who accompanied us bend from his horse with drawn knife,
-and slash the head off one of these snakes. I remember, too, that, at a
-little hill-town in the northern Altai, a place called “Schlangenberg”
-[or Snakemount], we wished to know whether the place had a good right
-to its name, and that the answer was almost embarrassingly convincing,
-so abundant was the booty with which those whom we had sent in quest
-soon returned. We had no longer any reason to doubt the truth of the
-tale according to which the place owed its name to the fact that,
-before the town was founded, the people collected thousands and
-thousands of venomous snakes and burned them. Amphibians and small
-mammals seem much rarer than reptiles; of the former we saw only a
-species of toad, and of the latter, several mice, a souslik, two blind
-mole-rats, and the dainty jerboa, popularly known as the jumping-mouse.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 14.--The Souslik (_Spermophilus citillus_). (⅓
-natural size.)]
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 15.--The Jerboa (_Alactaga jaculus_). (⅓ natural
-size.)]
-
-The sousliks and the jerboas are most charming creatures. The former
-especially are often characteristic features of steppe-life, for
-in favourable places they readily become gregarious, and, like the
-related marmots, form important settlements. It is usually towards
-evening that one sees them, each sitting at the door of his burrow.
-On the approach of the waggon or train of riders they hastily beat a
-retreat, inquisitively they raise their heads once more, and then, at
-the proper moment, they vanish like a flash into their burrows, only
-to reappear, however, a few minutes later, peering out cautiously
-as if to see whether the threatened danger had passed safely by.
-Their behaviour expresses a continual wavering between curiosity and
-timidity, and the latter is fully justified, since, apart from man,
-there are always wolves and foxes, imperial eagles and spotted eagles,
-on their track. Indeed one may be sure that the sousliks are abundant
-when one sees an imperial eagle perching on the posts by the wayside
-or on the trees by a village. The jerboa--by far the prettiest of the
-steppe-mammals--is much less frequently seen, not indeed because he
-occurs less frequently, but because, as a nocturnal animal, he only
-shows himself after sunset. About this time, or later if the moon be
-favourable, one may see the charming creature steal cautiously from his
-hole. He stretches himself, and then, with his pigmy fore-limbs pressed
-close to his breast, trots off on his kangaroo-like hind-legs, going
-as if on stilts, balancing his slim erect body by help of his long
-hair-fringed tail. Jerkily and not very rapidly the jerboa jumps along
-the ground, resting here and there for a little, sniffing at things and
-touching them with its long whisker-hairs, as he seeks for suitable
-food. Here he picks out a grain of seed, and there he digs out a bulb;
-they say of him also that he will not disdain carrion, that he will
-plunder a bird’s nest, steal the eggs and young of those which nest on
-the ground, and even hunt smaller rodents, from all which accusations
-I cannot venture to vindicate him. Precise and detailed observation
-of his natural life is difficult, for, his senses being keen and his
-intelligence slight, timidity and shyness are his most prominent
-qualities. As soon as man appears in what seems dangerous proximity,
-the creature takes to flight, and it is useless to try to follow;
-even on horseback one could scarce overtake him. With great bounds
-he hurries on, jerking out his long hind-legs, with his long tail
-stretched out as a rudder; bound after bound he goes, and, before one
-has rightly seen how he began or whither he went, he has disappeared in
-the darkness.[23]
-
-The fauna of the steppe-mountains differs from that of the low-grounds,
-differs at least, when, instead of gentle slopes or precipitous rocky
-walls, there are debris-covered hillsides, wild deeply-cut gorges, and
-rugged plantless summits. In the narrow, green valleys, through which a
-brook flows or trickles, the sheldrake feeds--an exceedingly graceful,
-beautiful, lively bird, scarce larger than a duck--the characteristic
-duck of the central Asiatic mountains. From the niches of the rocks is
-heard the cooing of a near relative of the rock-dove, which is well
-known to be ancestor of our domestic pigeons; from the rough blocks
-on which the wheatear, the rock-bunting, and the rock-grosbeak flit
-busily, the melodious song of the rock-thrush streams forth. Around
-the peaks the cheerful choughs flutter; above them the golden-eagle
-circles by day, and the horned owl flies silently as a ghost by night,
-both bent on catching one of the exceedingly abundant rock ptarmigan,
-or, it may be, a careless marmot. More noteworthy, however, is the
-_Archar_ of the Kirghiz, one of the giant wild sheep of Central Asia,
-the same animal that I had the good fortune to shoot on the Arkat
-mountains.
-
-According to the reports which I gathered after careful
-cross-examination of the Kirghiz, the archar occurs not only here, but
-also on other not very lofty ranges of the western Siberian steppes.
-They are said to go in small troops of five to fifteen head, rams and
-ewes living in separate companies until the breeding season. Each
-troop keeps its own ground unless it be startled or disturbed; in
-which case it hastens from one range to another, yet never very far.
-Towards sunset the herd ascends, under the guidance of the leader,
-to the highest peaks, there to sleep in places scarce accessible to
-other creatures; at sunrise, both old and young descend to the valleys
-to graze and to drink at chosen springs; at noon, they lie down to
-rest and ruminate in the shade of the rocks, in places which admit of
-open outlook; towards evening they descend again to graze. Such is
-their daily routine both in summer and winter. They eat such plants
-as domesticated sheep are fond of, and they are, when needs must,
-easily satisfied; but even in winter they rarely suffer from want, and
-in spring they become so vigorous that from that season until autumn
-they are fastidious, and will eat only the most palatable herbs. Their
-usual mode of motion is a rapid, exceedingly expeditious trot; and even
-when frightened they do not quicken their steps very markedly unless a
-horseman pursue them. Then they always take to the rocks and soon make
-their escape. When in flight either on the plain or on the mountains
-they almost always keep in line, one running close behind another,
-and, if suddenly surprised and scattered, they re-form in linear order
-as speedily as possible. Among the rocks they move, whether going
-upwards or downwards, with surprising ease, agility, and confidence.
-Without any apparent strain, without any trace of hurry, they clamber
-up and down almost vertical paths, leap wide chasms, and pass from
-the heights to the valley almost as if they were birds and could fly.
-When they find themselves pursued, they stand still from time to time,
-clamber to a loftier peak to secure a wider prospect, and then go on
-their way so calmly that it seems as if they mocked their pursuer.
-Consciousness of their strength and climbing powers seems to give them
-a proud composure. They never hurry, and have no cause to regret their
-deliberation except when they come within shot of the lurking ambuscade
-or the stealthy stalker.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 16.--Archar Sheep or Argali (_Ovis Argali_).]
-
-The sheep live at peace together throughout the year, and the rams only
-fight towards the breeding season. This occurs in the second half of
-October and lasts for almost a month. At this time the high-spirited,
-combative rams become greatly excited. The seniors make a stand and
-drive off all their weaker fellows. With their equals they fight
-for life or death. The rivals stand opposed in menacing attitudes;
-rearing on their hind-legs they rush at one another, and the crash of
-powerful horns is echoed in a dull rumble among the rocks. Sometimes
-it happens that they entangle one another, for the horns may interlock
-inseparably, and both perish miserably; or one ram may hurl the other
-over a precipice, where he is surely dashed to pieces.
-
-During the last days of April or the first of May the ewe brings forth
-a single lamb or a pair. These lambs, as we found out from captive
-ones, are able in a few hours to run with their mother, and in a few
-days they follow her over all the paths, wherever she leads them, with
-the innate agility and surefootedness characteristic of their race.
-When serious danger threatens, the mother hides them in the nooks of
-the rocks, where the enemy may perchance overlook their presence. She
-returns, of course, after she has successfully eluded the foe. The
-lambkin, pressed close to the ground, lies as still as a mouse, and,
-looking almost like a stone, may often escape detection; but not by
-any means always is he safe, least of all from the golden eagle, which
-often seizes and kills a lamb which the mother has left unprotected.
-So we observed when hunting on the Arkat Mountains. Captive archar
-lambs which we got from the Kirghiz were most delightful creatures,
-and showed by the ready way in which they took to the udders of their
-foster-mothers that they might have been reared without special
-difficulty. Should it prove possible to bring the proud creatures into
-domestication the acquisition would be one of the greatest value. But
-of this the Kirghiz does not dream, he thinks only of how he may shoot
-this wild sheep or the other. Not that the chase of this powerful
-animal is what one could call a passion with him; indeed the sheep’s
-most formidable enemy is the wolf, and it is only in the deep snow in
-winter that even he manages to catch an archar.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 17.--Pallas’s Sand-grouse (_Syrrhaptes paradoxus_).]
-
-As on the mountains, so on the driest, dreariest stretches of the
-steppes, which even in spring suggest African deserts, there are
-characteristic animals. In such places almost all the plants of the
-highlands and valleys disappear except the low tufted grass and
-diminutive bushes of wormwood. Here, however, grows a remarkable shrub
-which one does not see elsewhere, a shrub called _ramwood_ on
-account of its extreme hardness and toughness, which baffles the axe.
-It roots on those rare spots in the wilderness where the rain-storms
-have washed together some poor red clay. There it sometimes grows into
-bushwork of considerable extent, affording shelter and shade to other
-plants, so that these green spots come to look like little oases in
-the desert. But these oases are no more lively than the dreary steppes
-around, for apart from a shrike, the white-throat, and a wood-wren, one
-sees no bird, and still less any mammal. On the other hand, amid the
-desolation there live some of the most notable of the steppe animals,
-along with others which occur everywhere; besides the short-toed
-lark and calandra lark there is the coal-black Tartar lark, which
-those aware of the general colour-resemblance between ground-birds
-and the ground would naturally look for on the black earth. Along
-with the small plover there is the gregarious lapwing, along with
-the great bustard the slender ruffed bustard, which the Kirghiz call
-the ambler, along with the sand-grouse there is Pallas’s sand-grouse
-or steppe-grouse.[24] It was this last bird which some years ago
-migrated in large numbers into Germany and settled on the dunes and
-sandy places, but was so inhospitably received by us, so ruthlessly
-persecuted with guns, snares, and even poison, that it forsook our
-inhuman country and probably returned to its home. Here, too, along
-with the specially abundant souslik, there are steppe antelopes and the
-_Kulan_, the fleet wild horse of the steppes. I must restrict myself to
-giving a brief sketch of the last, so as not to overstep too far the
-limits of the time allowed me.
-
-If Darwin’s general conclusions be reliable, we may perhaps regard the
-kulan as the ancestor of our horse, which has been gradually improved
-by thousands of years of breeding and selection. This supposition is
-more satisfactory than the vague and unsupported assertion that the
-ancestor of our noblest domestic animal has been lost, and to me it
-is more credible than the opinion which finds in the Tarpan which
-roams to-day over the Dnieper steppes an original wild horse, and not
-merely one that has reverted to wildness.[25] As recent investigations
-in regard to our dogs, whose various breeds we cannot compute with
-even approximate accuracy, point to their origin from still existing
-species of wolf and jackal, my conclusion in regard to the horse
-acquires collateral corroboration. Moreover, the ancestor of our
-domestic cat, now at last recognized, still lives in Africa, and the
-ancestor of our goat in Asia Minor and in Crete.[26] As to the pedigree
-of our sheep and cattle we cannot yet decide with certainty, but I have
-consistent information from three different quarters, including the
-report of a Kirghiz who declared that he had himself hunted the animal,
-to the effect that in the heart of the steppes of Mongolia there still
-lives a camel with all the characteristics of wildness.[27] I cannot
-doubt the truth of the reports which I received, and the only question
-is, whether this camel represents the original stock still living in
-a wild state, or whether, like the tarpan, it be only an offshoot of
-the domesticated race which has returned to wild life. As the veil is
-slowly being lifted which hid, and still hides, the full truth from our
-inquiring eyes, as the ancestors of our domesticated animals are being
-discovered one after the other, and that among species still living,
-why should we suppose that the ancestor of the horse, the conditions of
-whose life correspond so thoroughly with those of the broad measureless
-steppes, has died out without leaving a trace? It is, I maintain, among
-the still living wild horses of the Old World that we must look for the
-progenitor of our horse, and among these none has more claims to the
-honour of being regarded as the ancestor of this noble creature than
-the kulan. It may be that the tarpan more closely resembles our horse,
-but, if it be true that the Hyksos brought the horse to the ancient
-Egyptians (from whose stone records we have our first knowledge of the
-domesticated animal), or that the Egyptians themselves tamed the horse
-before the time of the Hyksos, and therefore at least one and a half
-thousand years before our era, then certainly the race had not its
-origin in the steppes of the Dnieper and the Don. For nearer at hand,
-namely in the steppes and deserts of Asia Minor, Palestine, and Persia,
-and in several valleys of Arabia and India, they had a wild horse full
-of promise, one which still lives, our kulan. This differs indeed in
-several features from our horse, but not more than the greyhound,
-the poodle, or the Newfoundland differs from the wolf or any other
-wild dog, not more than the dachshund, the terrier, or the spaniel
-from the jackal, not more than the pony from the Arabian horse, or
-the Belgian-French cart-horse from the English racer. The differences
-between our domesticated horse and the wild form which seems to me its
-most probable ancestor are indeed important, but horse and kulan seem
-to regard themselves as belonging to the same blood, since they seek
-each other’s company.
-
-When, on the 3rd June, 1876, we were riding through the dreary desert
-steppes between the Saisan lake and the Altai--a region from which
-I have drawn the main features of the above sketch--we saw in the
-course of the forenoon no fewer than fifteen kulans. Among these we
-observed one pair in particular. They stood on the broad crest of a
-near hillock, their forms sharply defined against the blue sky, and
-powerfully did they raise the desire for the chase in us and in our
-companion Kirghiz. One of them made off as we appeared, and trotted
-towards the mountain; the other stood quietly, and seemed as if
-considering a dilemma, then raised its head once and again, and at last
-came running towards us. All guns were at once in hand; the Kirghiz
-slowly and carefully formed a wide semicircle with the intention of
-driving the strangely stupid and inconceivably careless creature
-towards us. Nearer and nearer, halting now and then, but still steadily
-nearer he came, and we already looked upon him as a sure captive. But
-a smile broke over the face of the Kirghiz riding beside me; he had
-not only discovered the motive of the creature’s apparently foolish
-behaviour, he had recognized the animal itself. It was a Kirghiz horse,
-dappled like a kulan, which, having strayed from his master’s herd, had
-fallen in with wild horses, and, for lack of better company, had stayed
-with them. In our horses he had recognized his kin, and had therefore
-forsaken his friends in need. Having come quite near to the Kirghiz, he
-stopped again as if to reflect whether he should once more yield his
-newly-healed back to the galling saddle; but the first steps towards
-return were followed by others, and without an attempt at flight he
-allowed them to halter him, and in a few minutes he was trotting as
-docilely by the side of one of the horsemen as if he had never known
-the free life of his ancestors. Thus we were able to confirm by
-personal experience the already accepted fact, that horse and kulan do
-sometimes keep company.
-
-The kulan is a proud, fascinating creature, full of dignity, strength,
-and high spirits. He stares curiously at the horseman who approaches
-him; and then, as if deriding the pursuer, trots off leisurely,
-playfully lashing his flanks with his tail. If the rider spurs his
-horse to full speed, the kulan takes to a gallop as easy as it is
-swift, which bears him like the wind over the steppes and soon carries
-him out of sight. But even when at full speed he now and again suddenly
-pulls himself up, halts for a moment, jerks round with his face to the
-pursuer, neighs, and then, turning, kicks his heels defiantly in the
-air, and bounds off with the same ease as before. A fugitive troop
-always orders itself in line, and it is beautiful to see them suddenly
-halt at a signal from the leader, face round, and again take to flight.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 18.--The Kulan (_Equus hemionus_).]
-
-As among all horses, each troop of kulans has a stallion for leader,
-and he is the absolute master of them all. He leads the troop to
-pasture as well as in flight, he turns boldly on carnivores which are
-not superior in force, he permits no quarrelling among his followers,
-and tolerates no rival, indeed no other adult male in the herd. In
-every district which the kulans frequent, solitary individuals are
-to be seen unaccompanied by any troop; they are stallions which have
-been vanquished and driven off after furious and protracted combats,
-and which must roam about alone until the next breeding season. In
-September they again approach the herds, from which the old stallion
-now drives off the newly-matured stallions, and a fierce battle begins
-when they catch sight of an opponent. For hours at this season they
-stand on the crests of steep ridges, with widely-open nostrils raised
-to the wind, with their eyes on the valley before them. As soon as the
-banished one sees another stallion, he rushes down at full gallop, and
-fights to exhaustion with both teeth and hoofs. Should he conquer the
-leader of a herd, he enters upon his rights, and the mares follow him
-as they did his predecessor. After the battles are over comes the time
-of wandering, for the hard winter drives the herds from one place to
-another, and it is only when spring has fully come that they return
-to their old quarters. Here, in the end of May or in the beginning of
-June the mare brings forth her foal, which in every respect resembles
-that of the domestic horse--a somewhat awkward-looking, but very nimble
-and lively creature. We had the good fortune to be able to make its
-acquaintance.
-
-On climbing one of the elongated hillocks of these desert-steppes, we
-suddenly saw at a short distance three old kulans and a foal, which
-seemed to be only a few days old. Our Russian companion fired a shot,
-and away rushed the wild horses, with their hoofs scarce touching the
-ground, yet exerting their incomparable agility almost with the ease
-of play, and obviously keeping themselves in check for the sake of
-the foal. Down rushed all the Kirghiz and Cossacks of our company;
-our attendants, carried away with the general excitement, also gave
-chase; and down we also rushed. It was a wild chase. Still playing
-with their strength, the wild horses made for the distant mountains,
-while all the riders urged on their steeds to their utmost, till their
-bellies seemed almost to touch the ground. The desert resounded with
-the jubilant cries of the Kirghiz, the thundering of their horses at
-full gallop, the neighing of our slower horses which gnashed at their
-bridles; fluttering cloaks and kaftans and whirling clouds of dust
-filled and enlivened the solitudes. Further and further rushed the
-chase. Then the foal separated itself from its older companions and
-fell behind; the distance increased between it and the anxious glance
-which the mother repeatedly cast back; the distance between it and
-our horsemen decreased; and in a few minutes it was taken. Without
-resistance it gave itself up to its pursuers; it showed no trace of the
-characteristic qualities of the adults--wildness, hardly governable
-self-will, and inconquerable roguishness, which often degenerates
-into downright spite. Innocently it gazed at us with its large lively
-eyes, with apparent pleasure it allowed us to stroke its soft skin,
-without resistance it allowed itself to be led along with a halter,
-in child-like carelessness it lay down beside us seeking obviously
-much-needed rest after the heat of the chase. The charming creature at
-once captivated every one. But who was to find a milk-mare to be its
-foster-mother, who was to give it rest and care? Both were impossible,
-and on the second day the lovable creature was dead. With the passion
-of sportsmen would we have killed a full-grown kulan, but to see the
-foal die gave us genuine sorrow.
-
-In vain we tried to capture one of the adults; in vain we lay in ambush
-beside the bound foal in hopes of inveigling its mother; in vain we
-tried to effect something by driving; none of us had any luck. As a
-sportsman, I left the dreary solitudes with regret, but as a naturalist
-I was in the highest degree satisfied, for there I had come to know the
-noblest creature of the steppes.
-
-
-
-
-THE FORESTS AND SPORT OF SIBERIA.
-
-
-Siberian scenery gives one an impression of uniformity and monotony,
-which is mainly due to the fact that the whole country consists of
-three zones, each more or less homogeneous within itself, though
-distinct from the other two. Each of these zones preserves its special
-character everywhere, and the same picture is repeated a hundred times,
-satiating and blunting the senses till one becomes almost incapable
-of recognizing or appreciating the charms of any scene. Thus it is
-that we seldom hear anyone speak with appreciation, much less with
-enthusiasm, of the scenery of this wide region,--although it certainly
-deserves both--and, thus, gradually there has become fixed in our minds
-an impression of Siberia which refuses correction with an obstinacy
-proportionate to its falseness. Siberia is thought of as a terrible
-ice-desert, without life, without variety, without charm, as a frozen
-land under the curse of heaven and of miserable exiles. But it is
-entirely forgotten that Siberia includes a full third of Asia, and that
-a region which is almost twice as large as the whole of Europe, which
-extends from the Ural to the Pacific Ocean, from the Arctic sea to the
-latitude of Palermo, cannot possibly be excessively monotonous nor
-uniform in all its parts. But people usually picture only one district
-of Siberia, and even that in a false light.
-
-In truth the country is richer in variety than any one has hitherto
-described it. Mountains interrupt and bound the plains, both are
-brightened by flowing and standing water, the sun floods hills and
-valleys with shimmering light and gleaming colour, lofty trees and
-beautiful flowers adorn the whole land, and men live happily, joyous in
-their homes.
-
-Of course there are undeniable wildernesses even now in Siberia, and
-these, along with the likewise real ice-deserts, the tundras, do, to
-a certain extent, justify the popular impression. Dreary also are
-the forests which lie between the tundra and the steppes, and form
-the third zone. In them man never ventures to establish himself; on
-them the industry of the settlers along their borders make relatively
-little impression; within them the forces of nature hold absolute sway,
-creating and destroying without interference. The flame of heaven sets
-the trees ablaze, the raging winter-storm hurls them to the ground;
-the forests rise and disappear without any human control, and may in
-the fullest sense of the word be called primeval. Full of mystery
-they attract, and at the same time inhospitably repel; inviting they
-seem to the hunter, but resistant they bar his steps; rich gain they
-promise the eager merchant, but postpone the fulfilment of his wishes
-to the future. This girdle of forest extends, as we have mentioned,
-between the steppes and the tundra. Here and there it encroaches on
-both; here and there they intrude upon it. At certain places in both
-the unwooded zones, a compact wood may dispute possession with the
-characteristic vegetation of steppes or of tundra, as the case may be,
-but such isolated woods are almost always like islands in the sea,
-for whose presence there is no obvious justification. In the steppes
-they are restricted to the northern slopes of the mountains and to the
-valleys, in the tundra to the deepest depressions. But in both cases
-they are unimportant in comparison with the measureless extent of
-the forest zone, in which it is only here and there that a stream, a
-lake, or a swamp interrupts the continuity of the wilderness of trees
-which extends on all sides. A conflagration may make a clearing, or,
-at the extreme fringe, man may make a gap, but otherwise there is no
-interruption. Whole countries, as we know them, might find space in one
-of these immense forest tracts; and there are kingdoms of smaller area
-than some of them. What the interior is like no one can tell, for not
-even by the streams which flow from them can one penetrate far, and
-even the boldest sable-hunters do not know more than a margin of at
-most fifty or sixty miles.
-
-The general impression which the Siberian forests make on the German
-traveller is by no means favourable. At the apparently boundless
-tracts which are wooded, he is of course astonished, but he cannot
-be enthusiastic, or at least very rarely. The creative, productive,
-renewing power of the North does not seem to be adequate to balance the
-destructive forces. Hoary age stands side by side with fresh youth, but
-somehow there is no vitality in the combination; incomputable wealth
-appears in beggar’s garb; and moribund life without any promise of
-vigorous rejuvenescence inhibits any feeling of joy. Everywhere we seem
-to perceive the hard struggle for existence, but nowhere are we really
-fascinated or attracted by the spirit of the woods, nowhere does the
-interior fulfil the expectations which the external aspect suggested.
-The splendour of the primitive forests in lower latitudes is entirely
-and absolutely lacking in this derelict, uncared-for woodland. The life
-which stirs within them seems as if it had already fallen under the
-shadow of death.[28]
-
-True forest, full of fresh life, with continuance amid a regular
-succession of changes, is rare. The devastation wrought by fire is a
-much more frequent spectacle. Sooner or later a lightning-flash, or
-the culpable carelessness of the Siberian, sets the forest in a blaze.
-Favoured by the season and the weather the conflagration spreads in
-a manner scarce conceivable. Not for hours, but for days, or even
-for weeks, the destruction rages. On the mossy and turfy ground the
-flames smoulder and creep further and further; the quantities of dry
-and mouldy débris on the ground feed them, dry branches hanging down
-to the ground, or dead trunks, still upright, lead them to the tops of
-the living trees. Hissing and cracking the resinous needles fall, and
-a gigantic spray of sparks rises to heaven. In a few minutes the giant
-tree is dead, and the destruction spreads; the rockets which radiate
-from it fall in thousands of sparks, and all around fresh flames spring
-from the glowing seed. Thus every minute the fire gains ground, and
-destruction spreads on all sides uncontrolled. In a few hours square
-miles of the forest are ablaze. Over hundreds of square _versts_
-steaming clouds of smoke darken the sun; slowly, but thickly, and
-ever more thickly, the ashes drizzle down, and tell by day to distant
-settlers, as the glow reflected in the sky proclaims by night, that
-there is a fire in the forest. Affrighted animals carry terror into
-the surrounding townships. Immediately after great forest-fires, bears
-appear in districts where they have not been seen for years; wolves
-wander over the open country in formidable troops as if it were winter;
-elks, stags, roedeer and reindeer seek new homes in distant forests;
-and squirrels in countless swarms hurry through wood and plain, field
-and meadow, village and town. How many of the terror-stricken beasts
-fall victims to the fire no one can estimate, but it has been found
-that woodlands desolated by conflagration remain for many years
-thereafter without fresh settlers, and that the valuable beasts of
-the chase have entirely disappeared from many of these desolated
-districts. The devastation is sometimes on a scale of vast magnitude;
-thus, in 1870, a fire which raged for about fourteen days destroyed a
-million and a quarter acres of valuable forest in the government of
-Tobolsk, while clouds of smoke and showers of ashes were borne to a
-distance of a thousand miles from the seat of the conflagration.
-
-For many years the devastated woodland remains like an immense
-succession of ruins; even after a generation or two the limits of the
-conflagration may be recognized and defined. The flames destroy the
-life of almost all the trees, but they devour only those which were
-already dry; thus stems more smoked than charred remain standing, and
-even their tops may remain bereft only of their needles, young shoots,
-and dry twigs. But they are dead and their destruction is in process.
-Sooner or later they are bound to fall before the storm. One after
-another is hurled to the ground, and one after another is robbed of
-its branches, its crown, or a third or a fourth of the trunk is broken
-off from the top. Across one another, at all angles, and at different
-levels, thousands of these tree-corpses lie prostrate on the ground
-already thickly covered with piles of débris. Some rest on their roots
-and top-branches, others lean on the still upright stems of their
-neighbours, and others already lie crumbling among the fallen branches,
-their tops often far from their trunks, their branches scattered all
-around. To the lover of the woods, those stems which still withstand
-the storm have perhaps an even more doleful appearance than those which
-have fallen. They stand up in nakedness like bare masts. Only a few
-retain their tops, or parts of them, for several years after the fire;
-but the weather-beaten twigless branches of the crowns rather increase
-than lessen the mournfulness of the picture. Gradually all the crowns
-sink to the ground, and the still upright trunks become more and more
-rotten. Woodpeckers attack them on all sides, chisel out nesting-holes,
-and make yard-long passages leading into the tree’s heart, thus
-allowing the moisture free entrance and accelerating the process of
-decay. In the course of years even the largest trunk has mouldered so
-completely that it is really one huge homogeneous mass of rotten tinder
-which has lost all stability. Indeed, a rough shake from a man’s hand
-is sufficient to make it fall into a heap of shapeless débris. Finally,
-even this disappears, and there is left a treeless expanse, broken only
-here and there by the last traces of a trunk.
-
-But even here a new life begins to rise from amid the ruins. Some years
-after the conflagration, the charred ground, manured by ashes and
-decayed débris, begins once more to be adorned. Lichens and mosses,
-ferns and heaths, and above all various berry-bearing bushes cover the
-ground and the débris of the trees. These flourish more luxuriantly
-here than anywhere else, and they begin to attract animals as various
-as those which the flames had banished. Seeds of birch borne by the
-wind germinate and become seedlings, which gradually form, at first
-exclusively, a thicket as dense as if it had sprung from man’s sowing.
-After some years a young undergrowth has covered the field of the
-dead; after a longer interval other forest trees gradually arise in
-the room of their predecessors. Every forest-fire spares some parts of
-the region which it embraces; even isolated trees may survive in the
-midst of the burned area, and effect the re-sowing of the desolated
-tract. Sheets of water and deep gorges may set limits to the fire, and
-it may even happen that the flames, leaping over a gulley, continue
-their devastation on the opposite bank without injuring the trees in
-the depths beneath. Moreover, individual larch-trees which have been
-attacked by the fire may escape destruction. The bases of the trunks
-are charred and all the needles are shrivelled up, but often the crown
-bursts forth afresh, and for a time the tree continues, though somewhat
-miserably, to live.
-
-In comparison with the ravages of the flames, the devastations for
-which man is directly responsible seem trivial, but in themselves
-they are of no slight importance. Of forest-culture the Siberian has
-no conception. The forest belongs to God, and what is His is also
-the peasant’s; thus, in view of the practically infinite wealth, he
-never thinks of sparing, but does what he pleases, what the needs
-of the moment seem to him to demand. Every Siberian fells and roots
-out, where and as he pleases, and everyone destroys infinitely more
-than he really requires. For a few cones he will fell a pine, even if
-it be in the prime of growth; to obtain building wood he will cut
-down three or four times the quantity required, leaving the residue
-without a thought, often not even using it for fuel. Already, such
-careless procedure has entailed serious consequences. The woods in the
-neighbourhood of townships, and here and there even those near the
-highways, are worked out, and appear scarce better than those which
-the fire has devastated; and still the work of destruction goes on.
-It is only since 1875 that there have been forest-officers in Western
-Siberia, and even they give their attention rather to the exploitation
-than to the renewal of the woods.
-
-Even where neither man nor fire has ravaged them the forests present an
-appearance essentially different from ours--an appearance of complete,
-absolutely uncontrolled naturalness. It is but rarely, however, that
-this attracts us. At first, perhaps, we are impressed by seeing at
-one glance all stages of growth and decay; but the dead soon becomes
-more conspicuous than the living, and this depresses instead of
-stimulating.[29] In forests thus left in their natural state, thick
-growth alternates with clearing, tall trees with mere thicket, hoary
-senility with vigorous youth. Mouldering trees stand or lean, hang or
-lie everywhere. From the remains of fallen stems young shoots sprout;
-gigantic corpses bar the way within the thickets. Willows and aspens,
-which, with the birch, are the most abundant foliage-trees of Western
-Siberia, appear at times in irreproachable perfection, and at times as
-if they had been persistently hindered from full growth. Stems thicker
-than a man’s waist bear tangled crowns of small size, on which, year
-after year, fresh twigs break forth without being able to grow into
-branches; other apparently aged trees remain not more than bushes;
-and others, broken across the middle, have their split, cracked, and
-twisted upper parts connected to the trunk only by the splintered bark.
-Rarely does one get a complete picture; everything looks as if it were
-going to ruin, and could advance only in decay.
-
-Yet this sketch is not true of all the woods in this vast region;
-there are indeed woodlands, especially in the south of the zone, on
-which the eye rests with satisfaction. Locality, situation, soil, and
-other conditions are sometimes alike propitious and combine to produce
-pleasing results. The growth of the individual trees becomes vigorous,
-and the general composition of the wood changes; the undergrowth, which
-is luxuriant everywhere, becomes diversified in the most unexpected
-manner. Gladly one welcomes each new species of tree or bush which
-reduces the marked poverty of species in these forests, but even from
-the richest tracts many trees are awanting which we rarely miss in
-Europe at the same latitude. It must be confessed that the forests of
-Siberia are uniform and monotonous, like the steppes, and like the
-tundra.
-
-In the river-valleys of the forest zone the uniformity is perhaps most
-conspicuous. Here the willows predominate, forming often extensive
-woods by the banks and on the islands, almost to the complete exclusion
-of other trees. Over wide stretches willows alone form the woods of the
-valley, and in many places the trees rise to a stately height, yet even
-then without often gaining in impressiveness or charm. For the isolated
-willow-tree is not more, but rather less picturesque than the willow
-bushes; its crown is always thin and irregular, it is not close-set
-but loose and open, in fact almost scraggy. On frequent repetition it
-becomes wearisome. When the willows stand, as is usual, close beside
-one another, they form a dense thicket, and then, even more than the
-isolated tree, they lack character, for all the stems rise like posts
-and all the crowns fuse into a close, straight-contoured mass of
-foliage, suggestive of a clipped hedge, in which the individual trees
-are entirely merged. As pleasing additions to such monotonous woods we
-welcome the sprinkling of poplars, the silver poplar in the south, the
-aspen in the north, both of them giving some animation to the willows.
-In the valley of the stream too, but only in those places which are not
-subject to regularly-recurring floods, the birch appears in addition
-to the trees already noticed; indeed birch-covered tracts occur with
-some constancy as connecting links between the willow-woods and the
-pine-forests. But it is only in the south of the zone that the birch
-attains its full size and vigour; it is as unresisting a victim to the
-flames as the most resinous pine, and is therefore incapable of greatly
-affecting the general aspect of the forest. More or less unmixed birch
-woods bound the forest zone to the south, and sometimes intrude far
-into the steppes, yet it is but rarely that they form thick, compact,
-well-established stretches of timber; and they are, when one sets foot
-in them, disappointing.
-
-On the other hand, the pine-forests which cover all the regions
-between the river-courses often fascinate and satisfy the traveller
-from the west. If the tundra has not gained upon them or begun to
-make its desolating mark, they consist in the main of vigorous pines
-and Norway spruce firs, the pichta or Siberian silver fir, the
-cembra pine, and more rarely larches. Among these there are aspens
-and willows, with occasional mountain-ash and bird-cherry, while
-birches often appear in as great vigour as in woods which consist
-exclusively of this accommodating tree. The pichta and the cembra
-pine are the characteristic trees of all West Siberian pine-forests,
-and vie with one another in beauty and vigour of growth. The pichta
-is a particularly beautiful tree. Nearly related to our silver fir,
-and representing it in all East Russian and West Siberian woodlands,
-even from a distance it catches the eye, standing out impressively
-from among all the other conifers. From the silver fir and from the
-Norway spruce fir the pichta is distinguished by the stateliness of its
-slender conical crown and by the rich, delicate, bright green needles.
-Almost always it overtops the other trees of the forest; usually,
-indeed, the topmost third is above the crowns of its neighbours,
-thus effectively breaking the sky-line of the forest and giving an
-individual character to certain regions. The cembra or stone pine,
-which flourishes especially in the south of the forest zone, though it
-also occurs far to the north, has round, smooth, usually compact tops
-which contrast well with those of the other pines and firs; and it
-also contributes not a little to the external adornment of the forest,
-towards making it seem more attractive than it is. Pines and spruce
-firs are nowhere absent, but they do not flourish everywhere as they
-do in the mountains of Central Germany; towards the north they sink
-rapidly into crippled senility. And so is it also with the larches,
-whose true home is Siberia; it is only in the south of the forest zone,
-especially on the mountains, that they attain the stately height of
-those in our country.
-
-The above-named species include almost all those which occur regularly
-in the woodlands of Western Siberia. There seems to be a complete
-absence of oak and beech, elm and ash, lime and maple, silver fir and
-yew, hornbeam and black poplar. On the other hand, there are many kinds
-of bushes and shrubs in abundance everywhere. Even in the north the
-undergrowth of the forests is surprisingly rich and luxuriant. Currants
-and raspberries flourish to a latitude of 58°, a species of woodbine
-occurs up to 67°; juniper, white alder, sallow, crowberry, bilberry,
-cranberry, and cloudberries increase rather than decrease as one goes
-north; and even on the margins of the tundra, where dwarf-birches and
-marsh-andromedas, mosses, and cowberries insinuate themselves into the
-interior of the woods, the ground is still everywhere thickly covered,
-for the mosses thrive the more luxuriantly the poorer the woods become.
-The steppes also contribute to enrich the woods, for in the south
-of the forest zone, not only most of the steppe-bushes and shrubs,
-but also various herbs and flowers, enter or fringe the forest. Thus
-certain wooded stretches of this border-land become natural parks,
-which in spring and early summer display a surprising splendour of
-blossom.
-
-As an instance of a forest glorious in such charms, I may mention that
-region known as “Taiga,”[30] which lies between the towns Schlangenberg
-and Salain, in the domain of Altai. In the broad tract which this
-beautiful forest covers there is a most pleasing succession of long
-ridges and rounded hills, valleys, troughs, and basins. One hill rises
-beyond and above another, and everywhere one sees a sky-line of forest.
-Pines and pichta firs, aspen and willow, mountain-ash and bird-cherry,
-are in the majority among the high trees, and are mingled in most
-pleasing contrasts of bright and dark colour, of light and shade. The
-soft lines of the foliage trees are pleasingly broken by the conical
-summits of the pichta firs which overtop them. The two species of
-Siberian pea-tree, guelder-rose and woodbine, wild rose and currant are
-combined in the brightly blooming undergrowth; Umbellifers as tall as
-a man, especially hemlock; spiræa; ferns such as maidenhair, larkspur
-and foxglove, bluebell and hellebore all shooting up in unparalleled
-luxuriance, weave a gay carpet, from which the wild hops climb and
-twine up to the tall trees. It is as if the art of the landscape
-gardener had been intelligently exercised, as if man had fashioned the
-whole with an eye to scenic effect.
-
-In the south, the forests show their greatest beauty in spring, in the
-north, in autumn. By the first days of September the leaves of the
-foliage trees begin to turn yellow here, and by the middle of the month
-the north Siberian forest is more brilliant than any of ours. From the
-darkest green to the most flaming red, through green and light green,
-light yellow and orange yellow, pale red and carmine, all the shades of
-colour are represented. The dark Norway spruce firs and pichta firs are
-followed by the cembra pines and larches; and next in order come the
-few birches which are not yet yellowed. The white alders display all
-gradations from dark to light green and to greenish yellow; the aspen
-leaves are bright cinnabar red, the mountain-ash and the bird-cherry
-are carmine. So rich and yet so harmonious is the mingling of all these
-colours that sense and sentiment are satisfied to the full.
-
-Such are the pictures which the woodlands of Western Siberia display
-to the traveller. But all the sketches we have attempted to give have
-been taken from within a narrow fringe. To penetrate further into the
-primeval forests, in summer at least, seems to the western traveller
-absolutely impossible. On the slopes of the mountains he is hindered
-by thickets and masses of débris, on highland and plain alike by
-prostrate trees and a tangle of bushes, in the hollows and valleys by
-standing and flowing water, by brooks and swamps. Wide-spread talus
-from the rocks, blocks and boulders rolled into heaps and layers
-form barriers on all the hills; lichens and mosses form a web over
-the rocks, and treacherously conceal the numerous gaps and clefts
-between them; a young undergrowth is rooted between and upon the old
-possessors of the soil; and the old trees as well as the young increase
-the risk of attempting to traverse these regions. On the low ground
-the obstacles which the forests present are hardly less formidable.
-Literally impenetrable thickets such as exist in the virgin forests of
-equatorial countries there are none, but there are obstacles enough.
-The prostrated trunks are all the more troublesome because most of
-them lie, not on the untrodden path, but at an inconvenient height
-above it; they are turnpikes in the most unpleasant sense of the word.
-Sometimes it is possible to climb over them or to creep under them; but
-equally often neither is possible, and one is forced to make a circuit,
-which is the more unwelcome, since, without constant reference to the
-compass, it is only too easy to stray from the intended direction. Real
-clearings are met with but rarely, and if one tries to walk across
-them, deep holes and pools full of mud and decayed débris soon show
-that here also the greatest caution is necessary. If the traveller
-trusts to one of the many cattle-tracks, which, in the south of the
-forest-zone, lead from every village to the forest, and penetrate
-into it for some distance, even then sooner or later he finds himself
-at fault. It is impossible to tell, or even to guess, whither such a
-path leads, for it intersects hundreds of others, and runs through
-tangled brushwood, through tall grass concealing unpleasant débris of
-trees, through moss and marsh; in short, they are not paths for human
-foot. Thus, though there are not everywhere insuperable obstacles, one
-meets everywhere and continuously with hindrances so numerous and so
-vexatious, that even where the plague of mosquitoes is not intolerable,
-the traveller is apt to return much sooner than he had intended. Only
-in winter, when hard frost has covered all the pools, bogs, and swamps
-with a trustworthy crust, when deep snow has smoothed off most of the
-roughnesses, and is itself coated with a hard layer of ice, only then
-are the forests accessible to the hunter equipped with snow-shoes, and
-accompanied by weather-hardened dogs; only then can even the natives
-think of making long expeditions.
-
-Siberian forests are dumb and dead, “dead to the point of starvation”,
-as Middendorf most justly says. The silence which reigns within them
-is a positive torture. When the pairing of the black-cock is past one
-may hear the song of the fieldfare and the black-throated thrush,
-the warbling of the white-throat, the linnet, and the pine grosbeak,
-the melody of the wood-wren, and the call of the cuckoo, but hardly
-ever all these voices at once. The trilling call of the greenshank
-and redshank becomes a song, the chattering of the magpie gains a
-new charm, even the cawing of the hooded crow and the raven seem
-cheerful, and the call of a woodpecker or a titmouse most refreshing.
-The silence expresses the desolateness of the woods. He who hopes to
-be able to lead in them a joyous sportsman’s life will be bitterly
-disappointed. Doubtless all the immense woods of this region have more
-tenants, especially birds and mammals, than we are at first inclined
-to believe, but these animals are so unequally distributed over the
-immeasurable area, and probably also wander so widely, that we can
-arrive at no standard for estimating their numbers. Miles and miles
-are, or appear to be for a time at least, so lifeless and desolate that
-naturalist and sportsman alike are almost driven to despair, their
-expectations are so continually disappointed. All the reports of even
-experienced observers who have sojourned there leave one still in the
-dark. Districts which seem to combine all the conditions necessary
-for the vigorous and comfortable life of certain species of animals,
-shelter, to all appearance, not a single pair, not even a male,
-naturally fond of roving. In such woods, far from human settlements,
-and to some extent beyond the limits of human traffic, one cannot
-but hope at length to fall in with the species which should frequent
-such places, but the hope is as fallacious as the supposition that
-one is more likely to meet with them in the heart of the forest than
-on its outskirts. The fact is that the regions under man’s influence,
-which he has modified, and to some extent cultivated, seem often to
-exhibit a more abundant and diverse life than the interior of the
-forest-wilderness. Wherever man has founded stable settlements, rooted
-out trees, and laid out fields and pasture-lands, there gradually
-arises a greater diversity of animal life than is to be seen in the
-vast untouched regions which remain in their original monotony. It
-seems as if many animals find suitable localities for settlement only
-after the ground is brought under cultivation. Of course the fact that
-certain animals are more abundant in the neighbourhood of man, where
-they are ruthlessly hunted, than they are in the inaccessible forest,
-where danger scarce threatens them, implies a gradual reinforcement
-from without. At certain seasons at least there must be migrations
-of more or less considerable extent, and in these most of the West
-Siberian animals take part. All the observations hitherto made
-corroborate this view.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 19.--Reindeer Flocking to Drink.]
-
-The only stationary animals, in the usual sense of the word, seem to
-be certain mountain species and those which hibernate in caves and
-holes; all the rest migrate more or less regularly. At the pairing and
-nesting time all the West Siberian animals segregate themselves, except
-those which are gregarious during the breeding season. Later on, the
-parents and their young combine with their fellows in herds or flocks,
-which, impelled by the need for more readily obtainable food, and
-perhaps also driven off by the plague of mosquitoes, set out on their
-wanderings together. Localities rich in fodder attract the herbivorous
-creatures, which are the first to arrive, but on their heels come
-others, and finally their enemies. Thus certain parts of the woodland
-are depopulated and others are peopled, and there occur actual blocks
-in the migratory stream, which must be the more striking in contrast
-to the usual desolateness and emptiness of the forest. The scenes of
-old conflagrations are favourite rendezvous, for, on the fertilized
-soil, berry-bearing bushes of various sorts have sprung up and attained
-luxuriant growth. Here, in autumn, the Siberian herbivores find a
-rich harvest, and not only they, but wolves and foxes, martens and
-gluttons, sables and bears, primarily attracted by the collected herds,
-may be seen banqueting, devouring the berries with evident pleasure.
-The different animals thus brought together seem to remain for a time
-in a certain correlation. The herbivores, as observant sportsmen have
-noticed, keep with unmistakable constancy to the berries; and the
-carnivores follow closely in their tracks.
-
-These migrations explain how it is that during certain years some of
-the woods are filled with all kinds of beasts of the chase, while
-during other years they are entirely forsaken. The traveller from the
-west, who journeys in late winter or early spring in Western Siberia,
-beholds with astonishment a flock of three to five hundred black-game
-rise in crowded flight from the highway through the forest, and learns
-with not less astonishment a little later that the same or even more
-favourable woods are but sparsely stocked with these birds. In summer
-he searches in the most suitable localities for the hazel-grouse, and
-is discouraged because his search is continually futile; in autumn he
-is pleasantly surprised to see, in the same places, abundance of the
-same game.
-
-So peculiar are the conditions due to the monotonous uniformity of wide
-stretches, that the huntsman who will make sure of his booty must be
-very familiar with them; indeed, even the most skilful and experienced
-sportsman is always and everywhere in the measureless forests at
-the mercy of chance. Whatever be the game he pursues, he never can
-predict where he will find it. Yesterday the goddess of the chase was
-kind to extravagance; to-day she refuses him every aid. There is no
-lack of game, but the huntsman who had to live on what he shot would
-starve. A sportsman’s life, such as is possible in other latitudes,
-is inconceivable in Western Siberia; the profit to be derived from
-the forest chase is inconsiderable. Some animals, for example the
-beaver,[31] seem already to have been exterminated; and others,
-especially the much-prized sable, have withdrawn from the inhabited
-districts into the interior of the forest. Everywhere in Siberia one
-hears the common complaint, that game becomes scarcer every year; and
-it is certain that from one decennium to another the diminution is
-perceptible. For this man is not wholly responsible; the forest-fires
-and the devastating epidemics which now and then break out are probably
-as much, if not more, to blame. At the same time, no Siberian ever
-realizes that a temporary sparing of the game is the first condition of
-its preservation. Sportsman-like hunting is unknown; the most varied
-means are used to kill as many animals as possible. Gun and rifle are
-mere accessories; pitfalls and nets, spring-guns and poison are the
-most important agents employed by natives and immigrants alike.
-
-“Game” to the Siberian means every animal which he can in any way use
-after its death, the elk and the flying squirrel, the tiger and the
-weasel, the capercaillie and the magpie. What the superstition of one
-race spares falls as a booty to the other; animals whose flesh the
-Russians despise are delicacies to the Mongolian palate. Ostiaks and
-Samoyedes take young foxes, martens, bears, owls, swans, geese, and
-other creatures, treat them tenderly as long as they are young, care
-for them sedulously until the fur or plumage is fully developed, and
-then kill them, eating the flesh and selling the skin. The number
-of skins brought from Siberia to the markets there and in Europe is
-computed in millions: the number used in the country itself is much
-smaller, but still very considerable. The quantity of furred, and
-especially of feathered game, which is transported to a distance in
-a frozen state, also mounts up to many hundreds of thousands. Along
-with the furs of mammals the skins of certain birds are at present
-much exported, especially those of swans, geese, gulls, grebes, and
-magpies, which, like the furs, are used in making muffs, collars, and
-hat trimmings. A single merchant in the unimportant town of Tjukalinsk
-passes through his hands every year thirty thousand plover-skins, ten
-thousand swan-skins, and about a hundred thousand magpies; and some
-years ago his sale was much larger.[32] That the total traffic in
-skins must involve a yearly diminution of the animals is certain; and
-that only the inaccessibility of the wildernesses of forest and water
-preserves the affected species from utter destruction will be plain to
-everyone who knows the unsparing hand of the Siberian huntsman.
-
-Although it is plain from what we have said that the Siberian’s
-conception of game is a very wide one, the animals looked upon as
-worthy of hunting are really those which we ourselves regard as furred
-and feathered game, or would so regard if they occurred in Germany.
-In our sense of the term, the game of the forest girdle includes the
-Maral stag and the roe-deer, the elk and the reindeer, the wolf, the
-fox, the Arctic fox, the lynx and the bear, the Arctic hare, the
-squirrel, the striped and flying squirrel, but above all, the martens,
-viz., sable, pine-marten and stone-marten, pole-cat, kolonok, ermine,
-weasel, glutton, and otter; besides the capercaillie, black-grouse, and
-hazel-grouse. In the south must be added the tiger, which now and then
-prowls within this region, the ounce, the musk-deer, and the wild boar
-of the mountain forest; while the north also yields the willow grouse,
-occasionally found at least on the outskirts of the forest. These
-animals everyone hunts, and the more civilized do so in a regular,
-if not always sportsmanlike, fashion; for most of them ingenious and
-effective snares are also laid.
-
-Of the latter the much-used “fall-trap” is most worthy of notice.
-Its arrangement is as follows:--Across clear spaces in the forest,
-especially those which afford a clear view, a low and very
-inconspicuous fence is stretched, and in the middle of this an opening
-is left, or there may be two or three if the fence be long. Each
-opening is laterally bounded by two firm stakes which bear a cross-beam
-above, and are meant to guide the falling beam, which consists of
-two long, moderately thick tree-stems, bound side by side. A long
-lever rests on the cross-beam, on its short arm the falling beam is
-suspended, while a cord from the long arm forms the connection with a
-peg-arrangement. The latter is contrived as follows. A short stick,
-forked at one end and pointed at the other, is fixed with the fork
-against a notch in one of the stakes, and with its pointed end fastened
-against another longer peg whose forked end rests lightly on the other
-stake. The two pegs keep one another in position, but on the slightest
-pressure they fall asunder. When the trap is set, the peg arrangement
-which corresponds to the trigger is covered with numerous light, dry
-twigs, not so much to conceal it, as to form a larger surface of
-possible contact. When an animal, even a small bird, steps upon the
-twigs, the two pegs fall asunder, and the beam drops, killing the
-animal under it. If it be set for a beast of prey, bait is laid beside
-the triggers; all other kinds of game are simply guided to the trap by
-the direction of the fence. In many woods all the haunts, paths, and
-clear spaces are beset with these traps in hundreds and thousands, so
-that the huntsman is often compensated by abundant booty for the slight
-trouble which it takes to arrange his effective apparatus. Grouse,
-hares, squirrels, and ermine are the commonest victims; polecat,
-pine-marten, and sable, the rarest. Gluttons also and wolves often lose
-their lives, but the survivors learn like dogs, and anxiously avoid the
-set traps, though neither is at all afraid to steal or gnaw at and thus
-destroy the booty caught in one which has sprung.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 20.--Elk and Black-cock in a Siberian Forest.]
-
-Besides the “fall-trap”, the Ostiaks and Samoyedes are fond of using
-a spring-gun arrangement, fitted with bow and arrow or automatic
-cross-bow. As the bow is very strong and the arrow well made, the
-murderous contrivance is very effective, and exceedingly dangerous
-to the inattentive explorer. Ingenious arrangements hold the bow
-stretched, and keep it and the arrow in position; a wooden clasp
-relaxes the bow whenever a line stretched across the animal’s run is
-touched. In order to direct the arrow so that it may pierce the heart
-of the victim, the ingenious people use a pillar-like perforated
-target the size of the desired booty. When this is placed on the run
-it has the perforation at the precise level of the beast’s heart, and
-according to the distance between the heart and the collar-bone, the
-hunters determine the distance between the mark and the trigger. As all
-the natives are well acquainted with the tracks of various kinds of
-game, the spring-gun only fails when a creature comes along entirely
-different in size from that for which the arrow was destined. Usually
-they are set for foxes, and with hardly less success for wolves, or
-even for elk and reindeer, while the automatic cross-bow is arranged
-for smaller game, especially ermine and squirrels. For both of these,
-bait is spread which can only be got at when the animal creeps through
-a narrow hole in front of the lower part of the set cross-bow. In so
-doing the creature touches a trigger, and is forthwith crushed by a
-broad, chisel-like arrow which the cross-bow shoots forcibly down on
-its appointed course.
-
-As an important addition to these old-fashioned contrivances, fire-arms
-have recently come more and more into vogue among the natives of
-Western Siberia, but they do not displace the bow and arrow. Powder
-and bullets are dear, and the people prefer small-bored matchlocks and
-flint-locks, which are exceedingly bad; but they use these defective
-weapons with remarkable skill. A fork fastened in front to the
-barrel, and used as a rest, is to be seen on every gun, and even the
-educated sportsmen use it as indispensable to the effective use of the
-matchlock. Fowling-pieces are used by the officials and well-to-do
-townsfolk, but not by the natives, who have to make a profit by the
-chase, and to measure their powder, as it were, by the grain. They
-fill a small horn with the expensive material, wind a leaden wire of
-the diameter of their bore twice or thrice round their waists, and
-thus equipped set out on the chase. The leaden wire serves for making
-bullets, which are not cast but simply cut, or, even more simply,
-bitten off the wire; the resulting peg-like shot is laid without any
-wad directly on the powder, and thus the gun is loaded. Of course the
-native huntsmen do not shoot from a distance except when forced to, but
-to the height of medium-sized trees their aim is so sure that they take
-the eye of the sable or squirrel for their mark and seldom miss it.
-
-The various species of grouse are more generally hunted than any other
-creatures, and are caught and killed in hundreds of thousands. During
-the pairing season capercaillie and black-grouse are almost everywhere
-left unmolested. The sportsman’s joy as we know it when the pairing
-grouse take wing can scarcely be experienced in Siberia, owing to the
-inaccessibility of the woodland; not even for the pairing black-grouse
-does one rise betimes in May; the hazel-grouse alone is sought after by
-mimicking his love-call. But who would put himself to so much trouble
-and discomfort for so uncertain a prize? Only in autumn and winter does
-the chase reward the Siberian as he desires and expects; when the young
-birds change their plumage, when the coveys unite in large flocks, and
-when these wander through the forest in search of berries, then is the
-huntsman’s opportunity. Whoever is not afraid of discomforts of all
-kinds pursues the migrating flocks with his dogs--usually pitiable
-helpers--and generally returns with rich booty; those who know how to
-use snow-shoes hunt capercaillie and black-game even in winter. After
-the first heavy snowfall the migrations are stopped, and each flock
-seeks out a resting-place which promises abundant food for a few days
-at least. In the beginning of winter the still ungathered cranberries
-afford sufficient food, and afterwards the juniper berries; when both
-these supplies are exhausted the easily satisfied birds take to the
-leaves of larch, and finally of pine and fir, and to the young cones of
-all these conifers. As long as possible they continue their wanderings
-on foot, and often cover seven or eight miles in a day; occasionally
-they come within a few hundred paces of a settlement, and leave such
-distinct footprints on the fresh snow that the huntsman is bound to
-discover them. When they are forced to take to a diet of pine-needles,
-the sportsman is able to track them, at first by their droppings, and
-eventually by their sleeping-places. For the Siberian capercaillie
-and black-game differ in habit from their relatives in Germany, and
-make more or less deep burrows, usually reaching from the surface of
-the snow down to the ground. They leave these in the morning, or when
-danger threatens, breaking with beating wings through the coverlet of
-snow. These shelters are, therefore, readily recognizable, and as they
-also afford sure indication of the night on which they were used, they
-are most valuable guides to the experienced sportsman. Amid continuous
-snowfall the birds sometimes remain beneath the snow till towards
-mid-day, and then, after they have taken to the trees and are eating,
-they will allow the huntsman to come within range, for they are not
-scared by the barking of his dogs, and, while watching the cur at the
-foot of the tree, often overlook the marksman. The first condition of
-success in such hunting is, that the snow have not only smoothed off
-most of the roughness of the ground, and thus removed the greatest
-obstacles to progress, but that it be sufficiently firm to afford the
-necessary resistance to the huntsman’s snow-shoes.
-
-With incomparably greater comfort, and usually with more success, the
-black-grouse may be hunted by means of the decoy or _bulban_. When
-using this the huntsman sets out before dawn in autumn, hides in the
-forest in a previously-prepared or rapidly-constructed hut, and there
-fixes up the _bulban_. This is a stuffed decoy-bird or one fashioned
-of wood and tow, with black, white, and red cloth at appropriate
-places, a deceptive imitation of the living bird. It is perched by
-means of a pole on the highest of the surrounding trees, with its head
-to the wind, and while the sportsman hides in the hut, men and dogs
-drive the adjacent forest. All the young black-game, or all which have
-not learned wisdom from previous experience, fly, when disturbed, to
-the bulban, which, to all appearance, is a fellow-bird sitting in
-reassuring security. They crowd on to the same tree, and the sportsman
-beneath, equipped with a small-bored and but slightly noisy rifle, or
-sometimes also with a fowling-piece, often has the pick of dozens of
-silly birds. In woods which are undisturbed throughout the summer,
-the black-grouse are so heedless of the slight report of the rifle,
-that after a bird has fallen dead from the tree the others do not fly
-away, but stretching their necks gaze at their fallen comrade, and wait
-quietly until the marksman has reloaded and claimed a second or a third
-victim. So abundant are these birds that the assertion that a single
-sportsman may, in the course of the morning, bring down twenty or more
-without leaving his hut is perfectly credible.
-
-Not less effective than the decoying of black-game, fascinating
-moreover, and satisfactory to every sportsman, is the hunting of the
-hazel-grouse as practised in Siberia. No special equipment of any
-kind is required, not even trained dogs--useful auxiliaries none the
-less--are indispensable. The hazel-grouse is very abundant in all
-suitable parts of the West Siberian forests, perhaps more abundant
-than the capercaillie and black-grouse, but it is so noiseless that one
-may often miss it although there are numerous coveys in the wood. It
-never forms such large flocks as its relatives, nor does it undertake
-such long migrations, but it is more uniformly distributed throughout
-the wide forest-wilderness, and the sportsman who knows its ways gets
-more readily within shot of it than in the case of any other bird of
-the woods. During spring and summer it seems to the inexperienced to
-have wholly disappeared; but in autumn it occurs everywhere, even in
-those places where, a few months before, it might have been sought for
-in vain. It is as fond of berries as are its relatives, and to secure
-these it visits the larger clearings, which, in spring and summer, it
-seems to avoid. But even there it knows how to escape observation. It
-lies much more closely than capercaillie or black-cock, and, without
-anxiously concealing itself on the approach of an intruder, remains
-as long as possible motionless, only rising when the enemy is almost
-touching it. Even then its flight is so noiseless and inconspicuous
-that one may readily fail to hear or see it; even a partridge or a
-wood-cock makes more noise than this charming bird, of whose flight
-only a gentle whirring is perceptible. When startled, it usually,
-though by no means always, flies to the nearest fir-tree and alights
-on the first convenient branch, but there it sits so quietly that it
-is once more as inconspicuous as it was on the ground. The sportsman
-often tries for a long time in vain to discover the bird’s whereabouts,
-and when he has finally decided that it has secretly flown off, he is
-suddenly nonplussed by a start or movement which betrays its presence
-on the very branch on which he had looked for it repeatedly. The
-cleverness with which all birds of this sort hide themselves from
-observation has reached a rare perfection in the hazel-grouse. For
-its haunts it prefers the boggy and mossy parts of the forest, which
-abound in bilberries and cranberries and are surrounded by old dead
-trees and young growths. Here it knows so skilfully how to use the
-cover, that one rarely perceives it until it has flown for security
-to one of the lifeless giants. When it does not move, it appears most
-deceptively like a knot on the tree, and it behaves as if it knew that
-it could trust to the colour-resemblance between its plumage and its
-surroundings. Nevertheless, whenever it shows itself freely it keeps
-looking anxiously all round, and, if it suspects danger, leaves its
-perch as silently as it gained it. Hazel-grouse shooting is a true
-pleasure to the sportsman. He may expect the bird almost everywhere in
-the forest, and can never tell how it will show itself; he must usually
-dispense with all auxiliaries, but his success is not prejudiced
-by awkward companions; and he is even more richly rewarded by the
-continuous tension and pleasurable excitement than by the exquisite
-dish afforded by this best-flavoured of game-birds.
-
-Compared with the importance of game-birds to the sportsman, and
-indeed to the community generally, the chase and exploitation of big
-game in West Siberia must seem inconsiderable. The four species of
-stag found in this region are for various, but equally unsatisfactory
-reasons, much less appreciated than they deserve. They are treated in
-a manner which, if not actually barbarous, seems to us disagreeable or
-even repulsive. This is especially true in regard to the Maral stag.
-This splendid creature, according to some naturalists a large-sized
-red-deer, according to others a nearly related species with larger body
-and stronger antlers, lives in all the southern forests, especially on
-the mountains, and is probably by no means so rare as the untiring lust
-for the chase on the part of both natives and strangers has made it
-seem. For a strange reason the said lust for the chase endangers this
-stag most seriously just at the time when he needs most to be spared.
-For he is hunted by all the North Asiatic hunters not for his flesh
-nor his skin, nor for his fully-branched head, but solely and wholly
-for the growing, incompletely tined, and still velvety antlers.[33]
-Out of this the Chinese physicians or quacks prepare a specific, which
-is greatly sought after by rich debilitated Celestials, and is sold
-for its weight in gold. It is esteemed as a stimulant of rare virtue,
-and believed to be replaceable by no other. Most sought after are the
-half-branched, six-tined antlers, still richly filled with blood; for
-these the price is from £10 to £15, while completely formed antlers,
-with twelve or fourteen tines, and bared of their velvet, may be bought
-for six to twelve shillings. Not only the Mongols of North and Central
-Asia, but also the Siberians of Russian origin, exert themselves to
-procure these valuable antlers, which, when obtained in the proper
-condition, are despatched as quickly as possible, especially by post,
-to Kiachta, whence, through special merchants, thousands are sent
-every year to China without satisfying the demand. Siberian peasants
-also keep the Maral stag in captivity for the sole purpose of cutting
-off the blood-charged antlers at the proper time and selling them.
-Now, since all stags when growing their antlers avoid the dense
-thickets, and are less wary than at other seasons, and as the one- and
-two-year-old stags are as little spared as those with crown antlers,
-it is obvious that the numerical strength of the race must be notably
-impoverished, and that the breeding must also be appreciably affected.
-The flesh and the skin obtained in the slaughter are but rarely taken
-into consideration; if it would involve any trouble to remove the
-carcase, it is usually left without reluctance to the wolves and foxes.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 21.--The Maral Stag.]
-
-As the Maral stag excels ours, so is it with the Siberian or large
-roe-deer, which differs from ours in its larger growth and by the
-high antlers with weakly developed burrs. Its specific independence,
-however, is still a subject of controversy among taxonomists. In
-Siberia it prefers the stretches of woodland which have begun to
-recover from the effects of a conflagration, and in which the pichta
-fir is abundant. It also frequents the fringes of the forest and
-small woods, and ascends the mountains to considerable heights, not
-unfrequently above the forest-line; it may likewise pass into the open
-steppes, associating on the heights with the steinbock and wild sheep,
-and on the plains with the antelope. According to the nature of the
-country, it undertakes more or less regular migrations, even without
-being forced to these by forest fires, and in its wanderings it will
-traverse wide stretches and cross broad rivers without hesitation.
-In certain circumstances it appears in regions in which it has not
-been seen for years, and from these centres it makes excursions round
-about. In its wanderings it usually keeps to definite roads, but is
-now and then forced to follow narrow paths. The rocky and precipitous
-river-banks of the larger streams compel it to make its way through a
-few cross-valleys and gorges, and this necessity is often the animal’s
-ruin, for the trapper rarely omits to stretch his leading-fence across
-these runs, and to lay his pitfalls fatally. Wolf and lynx press upon
-it at every season; Russians and native Siberians likewise. Like other
-game it is hunted unsparingly; every circumstance is utilized and every
-trick is tried to effect its capture. At the beginning of the thaw,
-when cold nights have frozen the top layer of snow into a thin crust
-of ice, the hunter sets off on horseback or on snow-shoes with a pack
-of nimble dogs; he rouses the stag with his shouts and runs it down,
-fatiguing it the sooner the harder the ice is, for, as the stag bounds,
-the crust breaks under its slender hoofs, and its ankles are cut. In
-spring, the hunters entice the doe by imitating the cry of the fawn,
-and the buck is similarly allured in the leafy season by a skilful echo
-of the doe’s call; in the intermediate season and later, both sexes are
-inveigled by special dainties; in autumn a drive is organized, or the
-migrating deer is pursued in boats as he swims across the streams,
-and is killed in the water; in early winter he is shot from the swift
-sledge. In fact the only method of capture which is not resorted to is
-that of snaring, so common a practice with knavish hunters at home; but
-in all probability the reason for this abstinence is simply that the
-spring-bow is more effective.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 22.--The Elk Hunter--A Successful Shot.]
-
-The elk[34] exists under decidedly more favourable conditions, and
-has a firmer footing in the struggle for existence. Its haunts and
-habits, its strength and power of self-defence, secure it from many,
-if not most pursuers. A forest animal in the full sense of the word,
-as much at home in swamp and bog as in thicket or wood, overcoming
-with equal ease all obstacles of forest and morass, assured by the
-nature of its diet from the scarcity of winter, it escapes more
-readily than any other beast of the chase from pursuit either by man
-or by other dangerous enemies. The latter include wolves, lynxes,
-bears, and gluttons; but it may be doubted whether all these beasts
-of prey together very seriously affect the elk. For it is as strong
-as it is courageous, it has in its sharp hoofs even more formidable
-weapons than its antlers, and it knows right well how to use both of
-them. It may fall victim to a bear who surprises and overcomes it;
-but it undoubtedly hurls a single wolf to the ground, and may even be
-victorious over a pack of these eternally hungry creatures. As to lynx
-and glutton, the old story that these are able to leap on the elk’s
-neck and sever the jugular vein does not seem to have been proved. Only
-against human weapons are the elk’s resources ineffective. But its
-pursuit in Siberian forests is a precarious undertaking, and is little
-practised except by the natives. During summer the water-loving beast
-is hardly to be got at; it spends the greater part of the season in the
-marsh, browsing by night and resting by day among the high marsh-plants
-in a place accessible only to itself. The juicy water-plants and their
-roots suit it better than the sharp sedges, and it therefore browses
-in the deeper parts of the bog, where it pulls the plants out of the
-water, dipping its uncouth head in the muddy moisture as far as the
-roots of its donkey-like ears. When it lifts its head it blows from
-its nose and mouth the mud and moisture which necessarily entered its
-nostrils as it grubbed, and this makes a loud snorting noise which
-can be heard from afar. Experienced hunters have based a peculiar
-trick of the chase on the elk’s method of feeding. They listen to the
-usually watchful animal for several nights in succession, and mark
-his whereabouts; thither in the daylight they quietly carry a light,
-shallow-water boat; by night, guided by the snorting, they row with
-muffled oars towards the browsing creature, whose scent and hearing
-are dulled by his grubbing; at close range they send a bullet through
-him. The clearness of the northern summer night facilitates operations,
-though it renders close approach more difficult; yet the sport is all
-the more exciting, and by eager lovers of the chase it is pursued
-passionately, and usually with success. On the advent of frost the elk
-leaves the swamps, for the brittle coat of ice hinders his movements,
-and hies to the drier parts of the forest until the thickly falling
-snow forces him to wander in search of specially favourable localities.
-At this season the chase of the elk, with well-trained and, above
-all, silent dogs, is preferred to all other sport. In its wanderings
-the elk does not avoid human settlements, and betraying itself by its
-unmistakable footprints, soon has the huntsman on its heels. Now is
-the time to send the dogs after it. Their duty is to keep the creature
-continually agog, but never to chase it. They must never attack it
-in the rear, nor ever come too near it, but must rather bark at it
-continually, and keep its attention unceasingly engrossed. When the
-elk sees itself thus threatened in front it stops after a short trot,
-looks angrily at the dogs, seems trying to make up its mind to attack
-them, but only in rare cases succeeds in carrying out the resolution
-so slowly arrived at, and thus gives the sportsmen time to get within
-easy range, and to take sure aim. If a small herd of elk is suddenly
-surprised by the dogs and driven into a narrow defile, they may be so
-nonplussed that several may fall before a well-handled rifle. But when
-old experienced elks are pursued for some time during a heavy snowfall
-they take the first trodden path which they come across, and trot along
-it whether it lead to the recesses of the forest or to the township;
-thus they are not unfrequently led quite close to inhabited houses, on
-seeing which they diverge into the woods. A hard crust of snow is not
-less dangerous to the elks than to the roe-deer; and then the spirited
-and experienced huntsmen pursue them even with boar-spears, speeding
-along on snow-shoes, outrunning and fatiguing the impeded animals till
-they can use the ancient weapons to good effect. The flesh is readily
-eaten both by immigrants and natives, but it has no great market
-value; the skin, on the other hand, finds ready sale at six to eight
-roubles[35] a hide, and affords the professional huntsman sufficient
-recompense for his trouble and exertions.
-
-The wild reindeer belongs strictly to the tundra, but it also occurs
-throughout the whole extent of the forest-zone. Along the eastern
-slopes of the Urals it is frequent both in the depths of the forest and
-on the mountain heights, and the huntsmen of these parts accordingly
-speak with a certain emphasis of forest-reindeer and mountain-reindeer,
-and seem inclined to attribute different characteristics to the two
-kinds, though they cannot define their distinctive marks. The reindeer
-is less shy of populated districts than any other deer, which perhaps
-best explains the fact that every year among those living in freedom
-individuals are captured with slit ears and brand-marks. These have
-probably escaped from the herds of the Samoyedes and Ostiaks during
-the breeding season, and have wandered southwards till they met a wild
-stock to which they attached themselves. Once free from bondage, they
-very rapidly assume all the habits of wild life. But neither these
-escaped truants nor the wild forms are regarded by the forest-folk
-as of much moment among the beasts of the chase. Reindeer are indeed
-captured wherever, whenever, or however that may be possible; but apart
-from a few specially keen hunters of Russian origin only the natives
-pursue them with persistence and eagerness.
-
-Excepting the Semites and the Russians, all sensible people include
-hares among edible game. In consequence of this exception, the variable
-hare of Western Siberia is hunted only by educated and unprejudiced
-Siberians of Russian origin, and by the natives of the North, who are
-uninfluenced by any laws of diet. Even the skin of the snowy hare,
-since it loses its fur very readily, has little value in the eyes of
-the huntsman, and perhaps for this reason is presented by the heathen
-peoples as an offering to the gods. Yet in spite of the indifference
-with which the forest-folk regard this rodent so highly prized by us,
-the hare is nowhere plentiful. Many perish in the traps; the majority
-are caught by wolves, foxes, and lynxes; and the severe winter, which
-often impels them to long migrations, thins them sadly. The hare is
-certainly not important among the beasts of the chase.
-
-Among the non-edible furred beasts of the forest the first place may be
-given to the wolf, since it is most bitterly hated and most generally
-hunted. For although it is said that the direct injury which it does
-to man is not very considerable, or at any rate not insufferable, he
-misses no opportunity of destroying it. It is certain that in West
-Siberia wolves only exceptionally appear in large packs, and that they
-even more rarely venture to attack man, but it is equally certain that
-they do much damage to domestic animals. This is very considerable when
-we take into account the destruction caused by wolves among the herds
-of the nomads on the steppes and the tundra. There is no possibility
-of computing the numbers of wolves in the forest-zone. They are found
-everywhere and yet nowhere; to-day they fall upon the herds of a
-village, where there has been no trace of them for years, and to-morrow
-they ravage the sheepfolds somewhere else; they leave certain districts
-suddenly, and establish themselves in them again just as unexpectedly;
-here they defy their persecutors, and there precautions against them
-are almost superfluous.
-
-Broad, much-used highways and settlements rich in meadows attract
-them, for on the former they find the carcasses of horses, and by the
-latter they find an easy booty in the herds which wander unhindered
-by any herdsman, and often stray far into the woods. But they are not
-absent from those parts of the forest which lie beyond the limits of
-traffic. Sometimes in broad daylight they are seen singly or in small
-packs prowling near the settlements; by night they not unfrequently
-pass through villages or even towns. In a single night they destroy
-dozens of sheep, attack horses and cattle also, and more rarely dogs
-(for which in other countries they show a preference). The only animals
-which they avoid are the courageous swine, for here and elsewhere these
-at once show fight, and invariably get the best of it.
-
-Like the Russians, the Siberians hold to the superstition that the
-she-wolf suckling young carefully avoids ravaging in the neighbourhood
-of her litter, but that if she be robbed of her whelps, she avenges
-herself terribly, following the robber to his village home, and falling
-with unbounded rage upon all his herds. For fear of this revenge,
-every Siberian passes by any wolf-litter which he finds, and only now
-and then does he dare to cut the Achilles tendon of the whelps, thus
-laming them and keeping them near their birthplace until the time of
-the autumn hunt. For, as they grow up, the mother’s love is supposed to
-disappear, at least her thirst for revenge grows less, and the skins of
-the young wolves caught in autumn reward the clever foresight of the
-cunning peasant.
-
-According to locality and opportunity, the methods employed in the
-capture of the wolf vary greatly. Pitfalls, traps, strychnine, and the
-spring-bows already described do good service; actual driving is seldom
-successful. A favourite method is to pursue the wolf with sledges,
-and to shoot him from the sledge. To attract the wolf within range an
-ingenious device is resorted to. An old, steady, or worn-out horse
-is yoked to a large sledge, in which four comrades--the driver, two
-marksmen, and a fair-sized sucking-pig--take their places. The driver,
-whose sole duty is to look after his horse, takes the front seat; the
-marksmen sit behind, and the pig lies in a bag between their feet.
-Towards evening the mixed company sets off along a well-beaten road
-to a part of the forest where during the day fresh wolf-tracks were
-seen. On to the track one of the hunters throws a bag stuffed with hay,
-and fastened to the sledge by a long line; while this trails along,
-the other hunter teases the young pig, and makes it squeal. Isegrim
-hears the complaint, and probably thinking that it comes from a young
-boar separated from its mother, draws near quietly and carefully,
-that is, as far as possible hidden from the road. He perceives the
-bundle trailing behind the sledge, supposes this to be the squealing
-pig, and, after some consideration, determines to put an end to its
-sufferings. With a great bound he leaps upon the course, and eagerly
-rushes after the sledge. What does he care for the threatening forms
-which it bears? Such he has often inspected close at hand, and robbed
-before their very eyes. Nearer and nearer he comes, gaining on the now
-quickened sledge; crueller tormenting makes the pig utter louder and
-more clamant squeals; they are maddening to the robber; just another
-bound, and--two rifles ring out, and the wolf rolls gasping in death.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 23.--A Siberian Method of Wolf-shooting.]
-
-Equally artful is the circular trap much used in the Ural district.
-At a short distance from the village a circular space about two yards
-in diameter is enclosed with close-set deep-sunk stakes; around this
-is formed a second similar circle at an interval of about a foot and
-a half from the first. Two specially strong posts support a solid
-deal door moving on firm hinges, furnished with a spring-catch, and
-so arranged that it opens only inwards, pressure outwards causing
-the spring-catch to shut. Both circles are roofed over, not thickly,
-indeed, but firmly, and a trapdoor in the roof admits to the inner
-circle. When it is perceived that the wolves are beginning to visit the
-village by night, the trap is set by placing a live goat in the inner
-enclosure and opening the door of the outer ring. The pitiful bleating
-of the goat, frightened by being taken from his usual surroundings,
-attracts Isegrim. He does not in the least like the look of the
-strange enclosure, but the frantic behaviour of the goat, still more
-terrified by the wolf’s appearance on the scene, makes him forget his
-habitual caution, and he begins to try to get at the welcome booty.
-Several times does he prowl round the outer fence, ever more quickly
-and eagerly, twisting and snuffing, sometimes coming quite near, and
-again retreating, till at last he discovers the only door by which it
-is possible for him to get near the goat. His appetite gets the better
-of his natural cunning. Still hesitating, but yet advancing, he pushes
-his head and body through the narrow doorway. With despairing cries the
-goat springs to the opposite side of the inner fence. Without further
-consideration or hesitation the robber follows. The goat rushes round
-in a circle, and the wolf does the same, with this difference, that he
-has to move between the two rows of stakes. Then the projecting door
-impedes his progress. But the victim is now so near, and apparently
-so sure, that the wolf dashes furiously forwards, pressing the door
-outwards; the spring-catch falls with a snap into its groove, and
-the distrustful, cautious dupe is trapped--trapped without being
-able to get a step nearer the tempting booty. Unable to turn round,
-boiling over with rage, he runs and trots and jumps, ever forwards,
-ever in a circle, hurrying without a pause on his endless circuit.
-The intelligent goat soon appreciates the situation, and though still
-crying and trembling, remains standing in the middle of the inner
-circle. The wolf also begins to see the fruitlessness of his circling,
-and tries to recover his freedom, tearing splinters a foot long out
-of the stakes with his teeth, howling with rage and fear, but all in
-vain. After a night of torment, the daylight appears--the wolf’s last
-morning. The villagers begin to move about, and voices mingle with
-the barking of dogs. Dark men, accompanied by noisy dogs, approach
-the scene of the tragedy. Motionless, like a corpse, the wolf lies;
-scarce a wink of his eyes betrays that there is still life in him. With
-furious barking the dogs press round the outer fence, but he does not
-move; with mocking welcome the men call to him, but he heeds not. But
-neither dogs nor men are deceived by his shamming death. The former,
-pressing between the stakes, try to get a grip of him; the latter slip
-the much-used horse-noose or _arkan_ over his head. Once more the beast
-springs up, once more he rages on his path of torture, howling he seeks
-to terrify, gnashing his teeth he attempts defiance, but in vain--there
-is no escape from the dread noose, and in a few minutes he is throttled.
-
-The fox is everywhere attacked, hunted, killed, and devoured, or at
-least hard pressed, by the wolf, and is therefore not abundant in
-Siberia, but neither his hostile relative nor man have as yet been
-able to exterminate him. In the eastern parts of the forest-zone he
-sometimes undertakes long migrations, following the hares or the
-grouse; in the west, observations on this point do not appear to be
-recorded. They do not complain in Siberia of the damage he does,
-nevertheless they hunt him eagerly, for his fur is prized by natives
-and Russians alike, and is always dear. It fetches an especially high
-price when it is of a certain much-appreciated colour. As a beast of
-the chase, only the sable takes higher rank. For the sake of the fox
-alone professional hunters undertake winter expeditions which often
-take them as far into the heart of the forest as the sable-hunters are
-wont to penetrate. Especially for it do the Ostiaks and Samoyedes set
-their spring-bows, and they spare no trouble in their search for the
-burrow where the young are hidden, not in order to kill them, but that
-they may rear them carefully and tenderly till they become large and
-strong, and gain, in their first or second winter, their beautiful fur.
-For that the fosterers care more than for the life of their winsome
-charges, and they give them over remorselessly to the fatal noose.
-
-The Arctic fox may be included conditionally among the forest animals,
-but it never actually penetrates into the forest. Sometimes, however,
-in winter, in pursuit of hares and moor-fowl, it follows the course of
-the large rivers beyond the southern limits of the tundra, its true
-home.
-
-The lynx, on the other hand, is a forest animal in the strictest sense
-of the word. But in Siberia it only occurs singly, and is very rarely
-captured. Its true home is in the thickest parts in the interior of
-the forest, and these it probably never leaves except when scarcity
-of food or the calls of love prompt it to wander to the outskirts.
-Experienced hunters of the Eastern Ural say that the lynxes not only
-live in the same locality as the bear, but that they remain in the
-neighbourhood of the bear’s winter-quarters after he has gone to sleep.
-They assert, moreover, that the preference the lynxes show for these
-winter-quarters betrays the bears, since search has only to be made
-where most lynx-tracks cross, and especially where there is a circular
-track, for that always surrounds a bear’s sleeping-place. The lynx’s
-habit of keeping to his old paths with almost anxious carefulness must
-greatly facilitate the discovery of the bear’s quarters. Moreover, it
-may be added that in Siberia the lynxes show themselves very fond of
-fresh meat, and that they possibly seek the neighbourhood of a bear in
-the hope of occasionally sharing his booty. For, although it may be
-urged that the lynx is able enough on his own account to bring down big
-game without any help from so doubtful a friend as the bear, and that
-he hunts the reindeer and the roe, and may in a short time overpower
-them, yet the fact remains that his booty chiefly consists of small
-animals, such as hares, ground-squirrels, tree-squirrels, black-cock,
-capercaillie, hazel-grouse, young birds, mice, and the like. Of this
-there is no doubt, and it explains satisfactorily why the lynx is so
-rare in the fringes of the forest which are accessible to man. As long
-as squirrels and game birds abound in the interior of the forest, the
-lynx has no temptation to stray from this unvisited wilderness; when
-his prey migrates, he is forced to follow. How much he is feared by the
-game birds one can discern from the fact that every wooing capercaillie
-or black-cock is instantaneously dumb when a lynx lets himself be heard.
-
-Both immigrants and natives hold the hunting of the lynx to be right
-noble sport. This proud cat’s rarity, caution, agility, and powers of
-defence raise the enthusiasm of every sportsman, and both skin and
-flesh are of no small value. The former is preferably sent from West
-Siberia to China, where it fetches a good price; the latter, when
-roasted, is highly esteemed not only by the Mongolian peoples but also
-by most of the Russian settlers. The lynx is but seldom captured in
-the fall-traps, but he often renders them useless by walking along
-the beam and stepping on the lever; he is but rarely a victim to the
-spring-bow, and he usually leaps over the steel traps in his path. So
-there is only the rifle left. Only in winter can he be hunted, when
-the snow betrays his tracks and admits of the use of snow-shoes. The
-courageous dogs, having sighted their game, drive it with difficulty to
-a tree or bait it on the ground, but they often suffer cruelly, or may
-even be killed. The hunter himself runs a risk of being attacked by a
-furious lynx at bay.
-
-The wild cat, which the lynx persecutes as pitilessly as the wolf does
-the fox, is absent from the forest-zone of West Siberia, but now and
-then the region is visited by the most perfect of all cats,--the tiger.
-Two which were killed in 1838 and 1848 at Baesk and Schlangenberg
-now stand stuffed in the museum of Barnaul; another, killed in the
-beginning of the seventies, is preserved in the school museum at Omsk.
-Towards the end of the sixties a tiger terrified the inhabitants of
-the Tschelaba district (on the European boundary of the Ural) by
-attacking, without provocation, a number of peasants, from whom it was
-only frightened off when one of the men threw his red cap in its face.
-In the steppe-mountains of Turkestan, and throughout the south of East
-Siberia, the “king of beasts”, as the Daurs call the tiger, is found
-everywhere and permanently in suitable localities, and from both sides
-it may pass, oftener than can be proved, to the western forest-zone,
-remaining perhaps for some time unobserved and retiring unnoticed. Yet
-on the whole it occurs so rarely and irregularly that we cannot do more
-than name it, without reckoning it among the beasts of this region.
-
-It is far otherwise with the most precious of the furred beasts, the
-various species of marten. Their decrease is more lamented than that
-of all other beasts of the chase, but most of them are still regularly
-caught, if not everywhere, at any rate in certain parts of the forest
-region. Only the sable has in the last few decennia become really rare.
-Old huntsmen of the middle Ural remember having caught sable every
-winter in the vicinity of Tagilsk; nowadays, at this latitude of the
-mountain-land, only an occasional stray specimen is to be met with.
-A great forest fire in the central part of East Ural is said to have
-driven off the highly-prized and much-hunted creature. We hear the same
-story in the forest villages of the lower Ob, where the hunting of the
-sable is still pursued, and yields, for instance, at the Yelisaroff
-market, about a score of skins every winter.
-
-In all the forests of West Siberia the pine-marten is notably more
-abundant than the sable. In the fairly extensive hunting-ground around
-the already-mentioned town of Tagilsk from thirty to eighty are still
-captured every winter. It is said that the pine-marten, much more than
-the sable, is associated with the squirrel, and that the two appear and
-disappear together. But the greedy marten is by no means content with
-making the beautiful squirrel its prey; indeed it kills every creature
-which it can master, and is an especially dangerous foe of black-cock
-and capercaillie. Even in summer a clever spring often enables him to
-capture the watchful bird; while in winter the habit the black game
-birds have of sleeping in holes in the snow greatly facilitates his
-stealthy operations. Sneaking almost noiselessly from branch to branch,
-he comes within springing distance of the buried bird, and springs on
-it from above, crushing down the snowy roof by the force of his bound,
-and seizing the sleeper by the neck before it has any chance to escape.
-The stone-marten also occurs everywhere in the mountain forests, but
-it is rarer than its relative. Polecat, ermine, and weasel are also
-widely distributed and locally very abundant; the mink is confined to
-the western side of the Ural, and is also absent from its tributaries,
-the Irtish and Ob, which harbour the otter in considerable numbers; the
-badger is hardly ever mentioned in West Siberia; and the universally
-distributed glutton is less thought of than any other of the martens,
-being hunted not so much for his skin as because of his thefts from the
-traps.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 24.--Sable and Hazel-grouse in a Siberian Forest.]
-
-Although the west of Siberia is regarded as altogether over-shot, the
-forest-folk prepare every year to hunt for sable and other martens.
-Some huntsmen undertake expeditions and explorations, which compare
-with those of the North American trappers. Of course, they do not
-confine their attention to martens, but are prepared to bag all
-kinds of game; the main objects of their quest, however, are martens
-and squirrels. According to the time of colour-change in the latter
-the huntsmen arrange their departure from the village home, for the
-change of colour in the squirrels is regarded as an indication of the
-approaching winter, whether it is to be early or late, severe or mild.
-
-Armed and equipped as we have already described, the sable-hunters
-set out, after the first snowfall, in companies of three to five.
-Besides gun and ammunition each of them carries a sack on his back,
-snow-shoes and a hatchet on his shoulders, and a whip in his girdle.
-The sack contains the indispensable provisions:--bread, meal, bacon,
-and “brick-tea”,[36] also a few utensils, such as a pan, tea-kettle,
-drinking-vessel, spoons, and the like, and less frequently a flask of
-spirits. The whip is used to drive out the squirrels and to bring them
-into sight. Four to six dogs, which offend the eye of every German
-sportsman, join the company.
-
-Guided by the sun, which, however, is often hidden for days, and by
-the known stars, the weather-beaten huntsmen traverse the inhospitable
-wilds, camping out at night, feeding themselves and their dogs on
-the flesh of the game they shoot, and sparing their small store
-of provisions as carefully as possible. The ungainly but clever
-and wide-awake dogs not only scent the tracks of game, but, spying
-unfailingly the martens or squirrels hidden on the trees, bark at them
-and keep them in sight till the huntsman is on the spot. He approaches
-with the imperturbable quietness of all forest sportsmen, rests his
-long musket carefully on a branch, or, if need be, on the fork fastened
-to the barrel, takes a slow aim, and fires. At the outset of the hunt,
-the squirrels and even the pine-martens are so much disturbed by the
-dogs that they allow the sportsman to approach to within a few yards;
-soon, however, they become wiser, and a sure and steady aim becomes
-difficult. If the huntsman gets this, and succeeds in sending a ball
-through the animal’s eye, then he is well-pleased, for not only has he
-secured an undamaged skin, but he can recover his precious leaden shot.
-As soon as he has got possession of his fallen booty he skins it, in
-the case of martens and squirrels forcing the viscera through the mouth
-opening. The skull is broken open to recover the shot, and skin and
-body, separated from one another, are consigned to the bag.
-
-When squirrels are plentiful, the hunt is as profitable as it is
-entertaining. Everyone utilizes the short day to the utmost; one
-shot quickly follows another; and the pile of skins rapidly grows.
-Loading the gun is a tedious matter, but the skinning is done all the
-more quickly; and every huntsman faithfully does his utmost. Without
-resting, without eating, without even smoking, the huntsmen go forward
-while they may. As the dogs call, the comrades draw together or
-separate; the sharp report of their guns and the cheerful barking of
-the dogs is to them a stimulating entertainment. They count the shots,
-and welcome or envy their neighbours’ luck. But if the winter’s yield
-be a poor one, if the oft-repeated cracking of the whip calls forth
-no squirrel, if there be no tracks of sable or noble marten, of elk
-or reindeer to be seen, huntsmen and dogs trudge silently and moodily
-through the forest, and short commons put the finishing touch to their
-ill-humour.
-
-When night comes on, our sportsmen have to think of preparing their
-beds. From under an old, thick, fallen tree each shovels out the snow,
-makes a trough the size of a man, and kindles a strong fire in it.
-One of them then clears the snow from a circular patch as nearly as
-possible in the middle of all the hollows, and under the shelter of
-thick firs or pines; another gathers fuel; a third heaps up in the
-clearing a still stronger fire, and a fourth prepares supper. So many
-squirrels have been shot that there is no lack of strong meat soup
-with which to give a relish to the porridge and bread. The sportsmen
-have their supper and go shares with the dogs, refresh themselves with
-tea and a pipe made of twisted paper and then, after the fashion of
-their kind, discuss the exploits and experiences of the day. Meantime
-the fire in each hole has melted the snow, dried up the moisture,
-caught hold of the old tree-trunk above, and thus thoroughly warmed
-the chamber. Carefully each sleepy hunter pushes the still glowing
-fragments of wood to one end of the hole, and into this, avoiding the
-side-wall of snow, he creeps, calling his dogs after him that they too
-may share the warm bed, and soon he is asleep. It is true that glowing
-sparks from the smouldering tree-trunk fall throughout the night alike
-on the hunter and his dogs, but a Siberian’s fur hunting-coat can stand
-as much as a Siberian dog’s skin; and it is evident that a log like
-this will give much more heat than a much larger free fire. It is to
-the hole what the stove is to the room; it alone makes it possible for
-the sportsman to camp out in the forest.
-
-In the gray dawn the huntsmen arise refreshed, have breakfast, and go
-on their way. If they reach a good hunting-ground, which is visited
-every winter, they stay as long as they think fit. Here and there
-they find a log-hut built in previous years and still serviceable for
-shelter; in any case there are old and new fall-traps, which have to
-be put in order and visited every morning. This takes time, for the
-traps are often distributed over a wide range, and so it may be that
-the company stay a week or more in one part of the forest, and hunt it
-thoroughly, before they continue their wanderings.
-
-On these hunting expeditions many Siberians pass the greater part of
-the winter in the forest. Before he sets out, the huntsman usually
-makes a bargain with a merchant. He promises the merchant all the skins
-he gets at a certain average price, provided the merchant will buy all
-without selection. If the hunter has good luck he may, even nowadays,
-make enough out of it to keep him alive, or at least to defray the
-expenses of the winter; usually, however, he has little recompense for
-his hardships and privations, and no one less modest in his demands
-than the Siberian huntsman could make it a means of livelihood.
-
-Hunting the bear is regarded by the West Siberians as the most
-honourable and the most arduous kind of sport. For in this region Bruin
-is by no means the good-natured, simple creature he still is here and
-there in East Siberia; he is rather, as in most regions, a rough,
-uncouth fellow, who usually runs away from man, but who, when wounded
-or driven into a corner, will show fight savagely and prove himself
-exceedingly formidable. In spite of all persecution, he is still far
-from extermination; his occurrence may be spoken of as frequent, or,
-at any rate, as not uncommon. Always and everywhere, however, he goes
-his own way, and does not too often cross man’s path. Not that he is
-shy of human settlements, for he often stations himself not far from
-these, and sometimes falls upon domestic animals under the very eyes
-of their possessors; but he shows himself so sporadically that many
-Siberians have never seen him face to face, nor met him in the forest.
-It seems likely that he goes a-touring all the summer. He traverses
-the woods with a disregard of paths, but keeps to more or less beaten
-tracks when he ascends to the heights of the mountains in late summer,
-or returns to lower ground at the beginning of winter. When the corn
-is ripe, he stations himself in the fringes of the forest that he
-may steal comfortably from the adjacent fields; sometimes he leaves
-the wood entirely and visits the steppes, or the mountain-sides with
-steppe characters; he will stay a long time in one district and hurry
-through another without stopping, always and everywhere keeping a sharp
-look-out for the constantly recurring opportunities of securing his
-favourite foods. In most districts he is emphatically a vegetarian;
-here and there he becomes a formidable carnivore; in other places he
-seeks after carrion. In spring he is on short commons, and takes what
-he can get; he sneaks stealthily on the herds grazing in the woodland,
-makes a sudden bound on a victim, or pursues it with surprising
-rapidity, seizes it, drags it to the ground, kills it, and, after
-satiating himself, buries the remainder for a future meal. When a
-cattle plague rages, he visits the burial-places in order to secure the
-carcasses, and he is even accused of being a body-snatcher. In summer
-he plunders the fields of rye, wheat, and oats, robs bee-hives, and the
-nests of wild-bees and wasps, destroys ant-hills for the sake of the
-pupæ, rolls old trunks over to get at the beetles and grubs beneath,
-and even breaks up mouldering trees to capture the larvæ which live in
-rotting wood. In autumn he lives almost exclusively on berries of all
-sorts, and even on those fruits which he can gather from such trees as
-the bird-cherry; when the cembra-cones are ripe he goes after these,
-climbing lofty trees, and breaking off not only branches but the very
-tops; nor can he refrain from persistently prowling round the stores
-in which the cones are temporarily collected, or from trying to find
-his way in. Moreover, at all seasons he tries his hand at fishing, and
-not unfrequently with success. From man he usually runs away, but
-sometimes he will attack him without further ado, not hesitating even
-at superior force. According to the weather he times his winter-sleep.
-For his bed he selects a suitable place under a fallen giant tree;
-there he scrapes out a shallow hole, covers the floor with fine
-pine-twigs and moss a foot and a half deep, cushions the side-walls
-with the same material, covers the outside with branches and pieces of
-stem, creeps into the interior, and allows himself to be snowed up. If
-the first snowfall surprise him on the mountains, he does not always
-descend, but hides in a rock-cave which he furnishes as best he can,
-or else expands a marmot’s burrow till it is just big enough to hold
-him, and there sleeps through the winter. Once sunk into deep sleep,
-he lies dormant so obstinately that many efforts are often necessary
-to rouse him; he bites savagely at the poles with which the huntsman
-tries to poke him up, he growls and roars, and only surrenders when
-rockets or fire-brands are thrown on his refuge. Then, if he be not
-wounded, he rushes forth like a startled boar, and seeks safety in
-rapid flight. According to the consistent evidence of all experienced
-huntsmen, the she-bear brings forth young only every second winter, and
-does not awake from her deep sleep until a short time before the birth;
-she licks her cubs clean and dry, sets them to suck, and continues her
-sleep in snatches. At the end of May or in June she seeks out her older
-children, of two or even four years’ growth, and compels them to do
-service as nurses.[37]
-
-Although the flesh of the bear is by no means unpalatable, it is
-but little esteemed in West Siberia, where bear-hams are served up
-rather in obedience to fashion than from appreciation of the dish.
-Nevertheless, the bear-hunt brings in rich gain. The skin is in great
-demand for sledge-rugs and fetches a high price; teeth and claws serve
-not only among the Ostiaks and Samoyedes, but also among the West
-Siberian peasants, as potent charms; even the bones are now and then
-used. The canine of a bear slain in honourable combat brings to the
-Ostiak hunter, so he believes, supernatural gifts, especially courage,
-strength, and even invulnerability. A claw, especially the fourth of
-the right fore-foot, which corresponds to the ring finger, is prized
-by the love-lorn maiden of the Ural, for the youth whom she secretly
-scratches with it is bound to return her love ardently. Teeth and claws
-have, therefore, a high value, and have more effect in inciting the
-huntsman to pursue the most formidable carnivore of the forest, than
-any damage which Bruin does. But the chase is neither easy nor without
-danger. Traps do not seem to be of any avail. The hunter must seek
-out the bear, and, weapon in hand, helped by his practised dogs, must
-do battle. During the summer the restless habits of the bear make the
-chase very difficult; during winter there is the chance of finding a
-lair and of killing the sleeper in or near it. The poor peasant who
-discovers a lair sells the bear _in situ_ to any well-to-do sportsman,
-who, on a suitable day, goes with him and the requisite associates and
-surrounds the sleeper with sure marksmen. Beaters rouse the creature
-from his slumbers and bring him into view, and the huntsman shoots from
-the nearest possible distance. It is thus that the great majority of
-the bears are secured, and to good shots there is little danger. In
-summer and autumn they track the bear with small dogs, and while these
-bait him on all sides, the sportsman seizes a good opportunity for a
-telling shot. Or he may use the bear-spear, as the bold Ostiaks do, and
-charge the animal. Or else he may wind birch-bark several times round
-his left arm, and, holding this as a shield against the angry bear, may
-plunge a long, broad knife into his heart as he snaps at the bark. In
-these modes of attack accidents do, indeed, often happen; but in the
-course of time some hunters become so expert and cold-blooded that they
-prefer the spear or knife to any other weapon. Indeed, a peasant girl
-in the village of Morschowa is famous all over West Siberia for having
-killed more than thirty bears with the knife.
-
-Of undesired encounters with bears many stories are told. A hunter,
-armed only with a pea-rifle, came across a large bear in the forest,
-but did not dare to shoot, knowing that his weapon was too small for
-such big game. He therefore remained still, so as not to irritate the
-bear. But Bruin came along, raised himself, snuffed at the huntsman’s
-face, and then gave him a blow which stretched him senseless on the
-ground. Thereupon the bear ran away as quickly as possible, just as if
-he thought that he had played a naughty trick. Two Swedes, Aberg and
-Erland, were hunting hazel-grouse on the Urals. The former approached
-a bramble bush in the hope of raising a bird, when to his surprise a
-huge bear jumped up and made for him at once. As flight was impossible,
-Aberg raised his fowling-piece to his shoulder, aimed at the bear’s
-eye, fired, and was fortunate enough to blind him. Maddened with the
-pain, the bear covered the bleeding eye with his paw, roared loudly,
-and rushed on at the undismayed huntsman. But the latter coolly took
-aim at the other eye and fired again with equal effect. Then he called
-for his comrade, and they fired alternately at the blinded bear until
-he was dead.
-
-But the merriest tale had its scene in the village of Tomski Sawod
-in the district of Salair. One of the peasants was leading a load of
-cembra-cones through the forest, and did not notice that the cones were
-falling out of one of his sacks. A bear, who was wandering through the
-forest in the rear of the cart, crossed the road, and finding some of
-the cones looked for more, and followed the track unnoticed. After a
-time the peasant left the horse and cart standing, and diverged into
-the wood to fetch another sack which he had left filled with cones. But
-before he returned with his burden, the bear, still gathering cones,
-had reached the cart and climbed into it, there to feast to his heart’s
-content. With no little dismay the peasant perceived as he drew near
-what passenger had taken possession, and not daring to dispute his
-right, left him with the horse and cart. The horse, becoming uneasy,
-looked back, recognized the bear, and forthwith trotted off as fast
-as he could go. But the undesired jolting frightened the bear and
-prevented him from leaping off. He was forced to sit still and hold
-on, venting his increasing discontent in loud roars. The roaring only
-served to increase the pace; the more the bear stormed, the faster
-the horse hastened to the village. Now the village-folk had been for
-several hours expecting a visit from the bishop, and were standing
-at their doors in holiday attire, ready to greet his reverence when
-he appeared. Already sharp-eyed boys had been posted on the outlook
-on the church-tower, with instructions to toll the bells when the
-bishop’s company came in sight. In the distance was seen a whirling
-cloud of dust; the boys sprang to the bells, men and women arranged
-themselves in rows, the priest appeared with incense before the door of
-the church, every soul stood ready to give a worthy reception to the
-dignitary of the church. On came the rattling cart, and right through
-the festive village tore horse and driver, the former covered with
-dust, sweating and panting, the latter roaring and snorting, their
-mad career only ending when they reached the peasant’s yard. Instead
-of the beautiful Russian psalm, the terrified cries of half-senseless
-women rang out through the air, and the men, instead of doing dutiful
-reverence, rushed about astonished and affrighted. Only the church
-bells continued to peal. Before these had ceased, the men had recovered
-presence of mind and got hold of their weapons. The cart was followed,
-and the bear, who seemed to have lost all his wits, was soon stretched
-dead on the throne which he had himself chosen.
-
-Those who know the ways of bears will allow that all might have
-happened as I have described, though we may be inclined to regard the
-humorous story as one of the sportsman’s budget. For even the most
-serious and honourable forest-folk sometimes mingle truth and fancy
-when they tell of the forests and woodcraft of Siberia.
-
-
-
-
-THE STEPPES OF INNER AFRICA.
-
-
-The north of Africa is desert, must be desert, and will be desert
-for ever. For between the Red Sea and the Atlantic, the land-area
-exposed to the scorching sun is so extensive that the surrounding
-seas have not their usual climatic importance. The Red Sea is out of
-account altogether; even the Mediterranean is too small to have great
-influence, and the Atlantic Ocean affects only a narrow belt along the
-west coast. Over regions so vast and so hot, every cloud is dispersed
-without moistening or fertilizing the parched ground. Only when we go
-much further south, near the equator, do the conditions change. On the
-one side, the Atlantic Ocean sweeps in with a great curve; on the other
-side, the Indian Ocean washes the African shores, the two oceans, as
-it were, stretching their hands across the continent. Here, moreover,
-at certain times, thunder-storms bring downpours of rain so heavy that
-the desert has to give way to the more living steppe, and the year is
-divided into two essentially different seasons--of life and of death,
-of rain and of drought, whereas in the barren desert only the periodic
-winds bear tidings of the seasonal changes in progress elsewhere.
-
-In order to understand the steppe-lands it is necessary to give a
-rapid sketch of their seasons. For every country reflects its dominant
-climate, and the general aspect of a region is in great part an
-expression of the conflicting forces of its seasons, apart from which
-it cannot be understood.
-
-Almost as soon as the rains are over, the season of destruction and
-death begins--the long and terrible winter of the African interior--a
-winter which brings about by heat the same dire effects as are wrought
-in the North by cold. Before the sky, hitherto often clouded, has
-become quite clear, some of the trees, which had become green in
-spring, throw off their foliage, and with the wind-swept leaves go the
-wandering birds. These had brooded here in the spring, but now they
-seek other fields. The stems of the cereals turn yellow before the
-rains have ceased; the low grasses wither and dry. The intermittent
-water-courses cease to have any flow; the rain-filled pools are dried
-up; and not only the reptiles and amphibians, but even the fishes
-peculiar to them, are forced to burrow and seek winter-quarters in the
-damp clay. The seeds of plants, and the eggs or larvæ of insects are
-also hidden away in the earth.
-
-As the sun travels to the north, the winter sets in rapidly. Autumn
-lasts but for a few days. It causes no withering nor gradual death of
-leaves, no glow of red and gold such as we see at home, but exercises,
-through its hot winds, such a destructive power that the leaves are
-dried up like mown grass under the sun’s rays, and either fall to the
-ground green, or crumble away on the stalk, so that the trees, with few
-exceptions, assume their winter aspect with extreme suddenness. Over
-the plains, on which, a few days before, the tall grass still waved
-in the wind, dust clouds now whirl; in the partially or wholly dried
-up water-courses and water-basins the ground gapes in deep cracks.
-Everything that is pleasing vanishes; everything that is unpleasing
-becomes painfully obtrusive: leaves and flowers, birds and butterflies
-fade away, or migrate, or die; thorns, spines, and burs are left;
-snakes, scorpions, and “tarantulas” have their heyday. Indescribable
-heat by day and enervating sultriness by night make this season almost
-unbearable, and against neither heat nor sultriness is there any
-remedy. The torments are inconceivable to those who know nothing of
-such weather, when the thermometer registers up to 122° Fahr. in the
-shade;[38] when one is in a constant sweat, yet without being conscious
-of it, so drying is the heat; when one cloud of dust after another
-whirls up to heaven, or parching thirst weighs on one like lead. Nor
-can anyone who has not groaned through these nights, when one tosses
-on the couch, prevented by the sultriness from resting or sleeping,
-adequately sympathize with the torments to which men and animals are
-subjected at this season. Even the sky exchanges its hitherto but
-rarely clouded blue for a dun colour, for the vapour often hides the
-sun for half a day at a time, yet without diminishing the oppressive
-heat; indeed the sultriness seems to increase when the horizon is
-obscured by such mists. One day follows another without any refreshing
-of body or soul. No cooling breeze from the north fans the forehead;
-and the soul is not refreshed by any fragrance of flowers, or song of
-birds, or enchanting pictures with bright colour and deep shade, such
-as the flooding light of heaven elsewhere paints in the equatorial
-regions. Everything living, everything coloured, everything poetical,
-is gone, sunk into death-like sleep--too dismal to awaken any fancy.
-Men and beasts seem to wither as the grass and leaves withered; and
-like them many a man and many a beast sinks down for ever. In vain does
-manly courage endeavour to bear up under the burden of these days: the
-most resolute will give way to sighs and moans. Every piece of work
-fatigues, even the lightest covering is too heavy, every movement is an
-effort, every wound becomes a virulent sore.
-
-But even this winter must at length yield to spring, yet the incoming
-of this season also is terrible. For the same wind, which, in the
-desert, becomes the simoom, raises its wings as herald of the spring.
-It rages through the fissures in the ground, sweeps out more dust,
-whirls it aloft in thick masses, and builds it into wall-like clouds,
-which it drives roaring and howling through the land, and forces
-through the latticed windows of the comfortable town-houses as well
-as through the low doorways of the native huts, adding a new plague
-to the existing torments. At last the wind gains complete mastery and
-exerts its force without restraint, as though it would annihilate
-everything that still resisted; but it is this same wind that, farther
-south, piles up the clouds heavy with rain, and sweeps them towards
-the scorched land. Soon it seems as if the sultriness began to grow
-less oppressive as the wind gathered strength; it seems even as if
-it sometimes blew no longer hotly but refreshingly. And this is no
-deception; the spring is preparing for its coming, and on the wings of
-the storm the rain-clouds are borne. In a short time, in the south,
-they darken the dome of heaven; in a few days quivering flashes lighten
-the dull cloud-banks; in a few weeks the distant thunder heralds the
-life-giving rain.
-
-Then all the streams from the south rise and surge and overflow. They
-are scarcely yet turbid, but they have life now; they continue to rise,
-and through all the deeper rents and fissures of their muddy banks the
-life-giving moisture is diffused into the adjacent country. The birds
-of passage begin to appear, and day by day their numbers increase. To
-the lands of the Upper Nile the storks return to take possession of
-their old nests on the conical straw huts of the natives, and with them
-comes the sacred ibis to perform to-day the duty which has been his for
-thousands of years,--to be the messenger and herald assuring all that
-the old Nile-god will again open the fountain of his mercy, and pour
-forth his horn of blessing on the lands which own his sway.
-
-At length the first thunder-storm draws near. Sultriness more painful
-than ever oppresses the dead, scorched land. An eerie stillness fills
-man and beast with uneasiness. Every song, nay, almost every voice of
-birds is hushed, and they hide themselves amid the thickest foliage of
-the evergreens. In the camp of the nomad herdsmen, in the village,
-in the town, all life seems as if under a spell. The dogs, usually
-so lively, slink quietly away to some safe hiding-place; the other
-domestic animals become uneasy or else wild, the horses have to be
-hobbled, and the cattle are driven into the pen. In town, the merchant
-closes his stall, the artisan his workshop, the officials their divan;
-everyone takes refuge at home. And yet not a breeze stirs the air;
-there is not a rustle among the leaves of the few trees which still
-have foliage. But everyone knows that the storm is gathering and is
-drawing near.
-
-In the south is built up a great wall of cloud, dark and at the same
-time lurid, like the fire-cloud over a burning town or over a forest in
-flames. Fiery red, purple, dark red, and brown, dull yellow, deep blue,
-and black seem to move in a dance of colour; they mingle and separate;
-they fade into the darkness and appear again in vivid prominence. The
-great cloud-bank rests upon the earth and reaches up to the heavens;
-now it seems to stand still, and now it rushes on like a tempest;
-from minute to minute it narrows the range of vision; more and more
-completely it throws an impenetrable shroud over all. A whistling,
-hissing sound issues from it, but around the observer all is still,
-quiet, and noiseless.
-
-Then suddenly a brief and violent blast of wind bursts forth. Strong
-trees bend before it like weak reeds; the slender palms bow down their
-crowns. With ever-increasing rapidity one blast follows another; the
-wind becomes a tempest, and the tempest a hurricane, raging with
-unexampled fury. Its noise is so terrible that the spoken word does
-not reach the speaker’s ear; every other sound is drowned and lost.
-It rages and roars, blusters and hisses, pipes and howls, rumbles and
-rattles, in the air, along the ground, among the tops of the trees, as
-if all the elements were in battle, as if the heavens were falling, as
-if the very foundations of the earth itself were being shattered. The
-irresistible storm dashes against the trees, and tears off half of the
-leaves, if there are any left; while stems as thick as a man’s waist
-are snapped like brittle glass. Breaking off the crowns, the hurricane
-whirls them like light balls over the plain, and buries them head
-downwards in the loose earth or sand, with the miserable fragment of
-trunk sticking up, a prey to the destructive termites.[39] Hungrily
-the wind rushes through the clefts and fissures of the earth, sweeps
-out dust, sand, and gravel, hurls this even into the clouds, and bears
-it onwards with such force that it recoils stinging and rattling from
-hard surfaces. With this dust the tempest hides the heavens and covers
-the earth, and turns the day into dread night, while the anxious
-inhabitants in their dust-filled houses light lanterns to gain what
-encouragement and consolation they may from the sight of living flame.
-
-But even the roaring hurricane may be out-roared. The crashing,
-rumbling thunder is yet more mighty; it drowns the howling and
-bellowing of the wind. The clouds of dust are still too thick to allow
-the lightning flashes to be seen; but soon to the confusion of sounds
-and noises a hitherto unheard rattling is added, and the unnatural
-night begins to be relieved by gleams of light. It seems as if heavy
-hailstones were rattling down, but they are only rain-drops which bear
-with them in falling the up-whirled dust and sand. Now the flashes are
-seen. One follows so quickly upon another that we are forced to close
-our dazzled, well-nigh blinded, eyes, and to follow the storm only
-by listening to the uninterrupted roll of the thunder. The downpour
-becomes a cloud-burst; from the hills the water rushes down everywhere
-in streams; in the hollows it forms lakes; in the valleys there are
-rivers in flood. For hours the downpour continues, but with the coming
-of the rain the tempest abates, and a fresh cooling breeze refreshes
-man and beast and plant. Gradually the flashes become fewer and the
-peals of thunder less violent, the rain-spout becomes a shower, and
-this ends in a gentle drizzle; the sky clears, the clouds scatter,
-and the sun breaks forth in splendour. Mirthfully the brown children,
-naked as they were born, run out from the houses and huts to bathe in
-the pools which the spring rain has filled; and not less gladly do
-the reptiles, amphibians, and fishes rise from their muddy beds. Even
-the first night after the rain one hears everywhere the clear, loud
-voice of a little frog, of whom one saw nothing before, for he, like
-some of the crocodiles, many turtles, and all the fishes, had sought
-winter-quarters deep in the mud bottom of the periodically dried-up
-lakes, and had just been awakened by the first spring rain.[40]
-
-Everywhere the newly-awakened life arises in strength. The thirsty
-earth eagerly sucks in the moisture which has been bestowed upon her;
-but after a few days the heavens again open their flood-gates and a
-fresh supply of rain awakens any germs which are still slumbering. A
-second thunder-storm causes the buds to burst on all the trees which
-shed their leaves, and liberates the sprouting grasses from the ground.
-A third downpour of rain calls forth blossoms and flowers, and clothes
-the whole land in luxuriant green. Magical as spring’s coming is the
-subsequent rush of life. What with us requires a month here completes
-its life-cycle in a week; what develops but slowly in temperate zones
-here unfolds itself in days and hours.
-
-But within a few weeks the spring is once more past; the hardly
-distinguishable summer follows in the annual pageant; and is as
-rapidly succeeded by the short autumn; so that, strictly speaking,
-all three--spring, summer, and autumn--make but one season. Again
-the destructive winter is at the doors, and prevents that continuous
-germinating, growing, and flourishing which is possible in other
-equatorial countries where the water-supply is more abundant. Here,
-however, the rainfall is at least sufficient to keep the barren desert
-from gaining the mastery, and to spread a more or less rich carpet of
-vegetation over the ground--in other words, to produce steppe-land
-instead of desert.
-
-I use the word steppe to designate those lands peculiar to the interior
-of Africa which the Arabs call “Chala”, which means “lands bearing
-fresh green plants”. It is true that the chala is as little like the
-steppes of South Russia and Central Asia as the prairies of North
-America, or the pampas or llanos of South America, yet in certain
-important respects it does resemble the first-named, so that I need
-scarcely make any excuse for preferring a known to an unknown term.
-The steppe extends over the whole interior of Africa, from the Sahara
-to the Karroo,[41] from east coast to west, surrounding all the high
-mountains and enclosing all the extensive virgin forests which stretch
-on their slopes, or occupy in greater luxuriance the low grounds where
-water is plentiful. In fact it includes all the lands in the heart of
-Africa, beginning a few hundred paces beyond the last house of the
-towns, and directly behind the last houses of the villages; it includes
-the fields of the settlers, and supports the flocks of the nomads.
-Where the desert ends to the south, where the forest ceases, where the
-mountain flattens, there is steppe-land; where the forest is destroyed
-by fire, the steppe first gains possession of the clearing; where men
-abandon a village the steppe encroaches, and in a few years destroys
-every trace of habitation; where the farmer relinquishes his fields the
-steppe impresses its character upon them in the space of a year or two.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 25.--The Bed of an Intermittent River, Central
-Africa.]
-
-Inhospitable and monotonous the steppe seems to one who sees it for the
-first time. A wide, often immeasurable plain stretches before his eye;
-only exceptionally is this interrupted by isolated conical hills, yet
-more rarely do these unite to form mountain ranges. More frequently,
-low, undulating hills alternate with flat valleys; or sometimes they
-combine in a strange mazy network of ranges which enclose deep-sunk
-basins, where pools, ponds, and lakes are formed during the rainy
-season, while during winter the clayey soil is rent with thousands of
-fissures. In the deepest and longest depressions there is, instead
-of standing water, a “Chôr” or rain-torrent, that is to say, a
-water-course which even in the spring is only occasionally in flow, but
-which, under specially favourable circumstances, may be flooded to the
-brim in a few hours, and does not merely flow, but rushes--a moving
-wall of water--hissing and thundering down the valley, often, however,
-disappearing before it reaches a true river. Except where there are
-these water-basins and water-courses, a relatively rich vegetation
-covers the whole surface of the steppe. Grasses of various kinds,
-from lowly plants which creep along the ground to great cereal-like
-stems as tall as a man, form the basis of the vegetation. Trees and
-shrubs, especially mimosas, baobabs, doum-palms, and christ-thorns,
-combine here and there, especially near the water, to form thickets
-or groves, but elsewhere they are but sparsely scattered amid the
-grasses which so uniformly cover the flats, and it is only at a few
-spots that they form even a thin wood. Never do the trees show vigour
-of growth like that seen in the valleys with true river courses, where
-the blessings of spring are always retained; on the contrary, they
-are often stunted, usually low and with scraggy crowns with rarely
-even a twiner struggling upwards. They all suffer from the severity of
-the long torrid winter, which hardly allows them to gain subsistence,
-and keeps off almost all parasitic plants. It is different with the
-grasses which, in the short but abundantly moist spring, shoot up
-luxuriantly, bloom, and ripen their seeds, and in fact attain to a
-thoroughly vigorous life. To them the monotonous aspect of the steppe
-is in great part due, for, humble as they are, they obliterate many of
-the contrasts which would otherwise be apparent, and the uniformity of
-their colouring becomes oppressively wearisome. Not even man succeeds
-in introducing variety into this eternal sameness, for the fields
-which he tills in the midst of the grass-land seem from a distance so
-like their surroundings that one can scarce distinguish grain from
-grass. Even the round huts made of slender stakes, with conical roofs
-thatched with steppe-grass, are, in the dry season at least, so
-closely congruent with the surrounding flats that one must come very
-near before one sees that they are there. Only the seasons can change
-the sameness of the picture, and even they do not remove much of its
-monotony.
-
-Inhospitable, too, is the reception which awaits the traveller in the
-steppe. Perched on a camel he rides through the fields. Some game or
-other invites him to the chase, and induces him to penetrate into the
-grass-forest. Then he finds out that between the apparently smooth
-grasses there grow plants much more formidable than the thorny mimosas.
-On the ground flourishes the “tarba”, whose seed-capsules are so sharp
-that they cut through the soles of light riding-boots; above it grows
-the “essek”, whose burrs insinuate themselves almost inextricably into
-all clothing; and somewhat higher the “askanit” rises, most formidable
-of the three, for its fine prickles are loosened by the slightest
-touch, and, penetrating one’s clothes, bore into the skin and cause
-ulcerations small enough individually, but in their incomputable
-numbers most oppressive. These three plants make any prolonged sojourn
-or extensive exploration impossible, and are such a torture to man and
-beast that one can readily understand why the natives always carry,
-as an indispensable instrument, a fine pair of pincers. As among the
-monkeys, the greatest kindness which one man can do his neighbour is to
-pull out the fine, hardly-visible, needle-like spines from his skin.
-Apart from the three formidable antagonists which we have mentioned,
-most of the other steppe-plants, especially the trees and shrubs, are
-covered with more or less repellent thorns and spines, as one soon
-discovers if one tries to penetrate a thicket or even comes to close
-quarters with a tree.
-
-Other even more unpleasant characteristics of the steppes make
-themselves felt at night. It is often necessary to ride for days
-without reaching a village, and one must therefore camp out on the
-plain. A suitable sandy place free from obnoxious plants is sought
-out, the beasts are unloaded and hobbled, a bed is made by spreading a
-mat on the ground, and a huge fire is lighted to scare off beasts of
-prey. The sun goes down, and a few minutes later the night falls on
-the steppes; only the fire lightens the camp. But by the fire and about
-the couch things soon become lively. Attracted by the light, noxious
-creatures come running and creeping, first one and then another, but
-soon in tens and in hundreds. First appear gigantic spiders, which,
-with their eight legs spread out, cover a surface as large as an
-outstretched hand. After the spiders, or sometimes along with them,
-the scorpions come hurrying. Both spiders and scorpions rush with
-sinister rapidity to the fire, clambering over carpet and coverlet,
-among the dishes of our simple supper, retreating when the radiating
-heat becomes too strong for them, turning back again under its mesmeric
-influence--in truth a fearsome invasion. For these spiders, with
-their dangerous, or at least painful bites, are not less dreaded than
-the scorpions, and they are as ready to bite as the scorpions are
-to sting. Angrily we seize another instrument which an experienced
-traveller had forewarned us was indispensable--a long-legged pair of
-tongs, and with these we grip as many of the intruders as possible,
-and throw them without mercy into the crackling fire. By the united
-efforts of the party most of the hellish brood are soon in the flames;
-their successors are similarly treated, until the invasion slackens,
-and we begin to breathe--but it is too soon! For new and more uncanny
-visitors draw near the fire--venomous snakes, apparently fascinated
-like the spiders. Among them the naturalist recognizes as the most
-abundant species an exceedingly interesting creature well deserving
-his attention: it is the sandy-yellow horned viper, the famous or
-infamous Cerastes of the ancients, the Fi engraved on so many Egyptian
-monuments, the asp from whose fangs Cleopatra sought death.[42] It may
-be interesting to the zoologist, but the wearied traveller consigns
-it to the depths of hell. The whole company becomes lively when this
-visitor is announced; everyone seizes his tongs with much greater
-haste and anxiety than before. Whoever sees the snake approaches it
-cautiously, grips it behind the neck, presses the tongs firmly lest
-it escape, and throws it into the glowing fire. There its destruction
-is watched with no small satisfaction. In many parts of the steppe
-these vipers drive one almost to despair. Thanks to their scaly coat,
-whose markings correspond to a jot with the sandy soil, thanks also
-to their habit of burying themselves during the day, or during their
-resting hours, with only their short tactile horns protruding from
-the sand, one usually searches for them in vain during daylight. But
-as soon as night comes, and the camp-fire burns brightly, they are
-unmistakably on the spot, coiling and hissing all around. Sometimes
-they appear in terrifying numbers and keep the tired traveller awake
-till towards midnight, for all those which have been resting within
-the range of the fire, or have been attracted to it on their nocturnal
-rambles, come gliding towards the flames. At last, wearied out and
-heavy with sleep, we throw down the tongs and betake ourselves to bed,
-but we never know how many of the reptiles will come creeping over us
-in the night, and we often discover evidence of their visits when the
-carpet is lifted in the morning. For under its folds one or more may
-be found lurking, or may be seen quickly disappearing into the sand.
-Little wonder that it was on this steppe-land that I first became
-impressed with the fact, which no one had at that time stated, that,
-with few exceptions, the venomous snakes, and certainly all the vipers
-and crotaline snakes, are nocturnal in habit.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 26.--Hills of African Termites, or White Ants.]
-
-But the above-mentioned animals do not by any means complete the list
-of those which are troublesome in the steppe. There is one, among the
-smallest of all, which, though giving no direct cause for anxiety as
-far as life is concerned, is of immense importance in relation to
-the property of these who live or travel in this region. I mean the
-termite, a little insect not unlike an ant, which, in spite of its
-minuteness, does more damage than the voracious locust (still able to
-constitute a plague), and may work more destruction than a troop of
-elephants devastating the fields. It is one of the most omnipresent
-and persistent of injurious insects. Whatever the vigour of plant life
-creates will fall before the sharp jaws of the termites, and they are
-not less unsparing of the products of human art and industry. High
-above the grass-forest of the steppe they rear their conical earthen
-towers; on the ground and on the trees they make their tunnels and
-passages. They begin and end their destructive work at night or in
-darkness. First they cover the object of their attack with a crust of
-earth which shuts out the light, and under this cover they go about
-their work, whose end and object is always destruction. Things lying
-on the ground or hung on mud walls are most likely to be attacked. The
-careless traveller, oppressed by the overpowering sultriness, throws
-one of his garments on the ground which forms his bed, and finds it in
-the morning perforated like a sieve and rendered quite useless! The
-naturalist who is unaware of the ways of the land shuts up his hard-won
-spoils in a wooden box, and neglects to place this on stones or the
-like so as to raise it off the ground; in a few days his treasures
-are gone! The sportsman hangs his rifle on a clay wall, and discovers
-to his disgust that the destructive insects have covered butt and
-barrel with their tunnels, and have already gnawed deep channels in
-the stock. The tree which they select is lost; the woodwork of houses
-in which they effect a settlement is doomed. From the ground to the
-highest branches they make their covered ways; they eat through stem,
-branches, and twigs, and leave but a dead honey-combed skeleton,
-which becomes the prey of the first storm, and is scattered abroad
-in dust. On the earth-walls or on the supporting beams of the houses
-the termites likewise ascend, riddling the woodwork, and in a short
-time making a wreck of everything. Even under the firmly stamped
-floors of the better-class houses they form a maze of branched burrows
-whence they occasionally break forth in millions bent on destruction.
-In these and many other ways they work ruin, and are among the most
-troublesome plagues of the interior of Africa, and especially of the
-steppe-land.[43]
-
-Did this region offer nought else, were it not one of the most thickly
-populated and most frequented of animal haunts, the naturalist would
-perhaps avoid it as carefully as does the mercantile traveller, who
-knows only its repellent aspects and none of its attractions.
-
-But he who sojourns here for a time and really explores the region
-is soon reconciled. For the steppe abounds in life; it is not poor
-like the desert, but rather rich like the primitive forest. For it
-too shelters a fauna abounding alike in species and in individuals,
-and including many forms which are regarded as distinctive of this
-geographical region. Of some of these we shall give rapid sketches.
-
-Among the most remarkable steppe animals are those fishes found in the
-water-courses and water-basins which are only periodically filled. Even
-Aristotle speaks of fishes which burrow in the mud when the pools are
-dried up, and though Seneca sought to throw ridicule on the statement
-by suggesting scoffingly that one should henceforth go a-fishing not
-with hook and line but with pick and shovel, Aristotle recorded a fact
-which is beyond either doubt or ridicule.
-
-The mud-fish,[44] which lives in the steppe basins and streams in the
-interior of Africa, is an eel-like creature, about 3 feet in length,
-with a long dorsal fin continuous with that of the tail, with two
-narrow pectoral fins far forward, and two long pelvic fins far back,
-and with this most important characteristic, that, besides the gills,
-there are also functional lung-sacs. This remarkable connecting link
-between fish and amphibian lives, even in the wet season, more in the
-mud than in the water, and likes to hide in holes which it seems to dig
-out for itself. When the supply of water threatens to disappear, the
-fish burrows deeply in the mud, rolls itself into the smallest possible
-bulk, and forms, apparently by frequent turning, an air-tight capsule,
-shut in on all sides, and lined internally with mucus. Within this the
-animal remains motionless throughout the winter. If we carefully dig
-out these capsules and pack them well, we can send the fish without
-risk where we please, and it may be readily recalled to life by placing
-the capsule in lukewarm water. As the reviving water soaks in, the
-creature still remains quiet, just as if it were heavy with sleep; but
-in the course of an hour or so it becomes quite lively, and in a few
-days its voracious hunger also awakes. For some months its behaviour
-remains unaltered, but at the season when it prepares in its native
-haunts for winter-sleep, it seeks to do the same in captivity, or at
-least becomes restless, and secretes an extraordinary quantity of
-mucus. If opportunity be afforded, it burrows; if not, it soon masters
-its inclination, and continues to thrive as before in the open water.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 27.--Secretary-bird and Aspis.]
-
-Sheat-fish or siluroids also pass the winter in the steppe as the
-mud-fish does. The amphibians too, along with some reptiles,
-especially water-turtles and crocodiles, burrow in the mud, and wile
-away the deadly winter in sleep. On the other hand, all the terrestrial
-reptiles are at their liveliest throughout the torrid season, and
-contribute not a little to enliven the dreary steppe which they inhabit
-in extraordinary numbers. Besides the vipers which we have already
-mentioned, there is another venomous snake of the steppe--the royal
-Aspis or Uräus--one of the deadliest of all.[45] It was with this
-creature, more famous or infamous than the horned viper, that Moses
-juggled before Pharaoh, as the snake-charmers still do; the same, too,
-whose image in gold the ancient kings of Egypt wore as a diadem to
-express their irresistible power, and which they used in the punishment
-of criminals, or in executing revenge on enemies,--a creature in regard
-to which the old authors tell many gruesome, and not always untrue,
-tales. In contrast to other venomous snakes it is active during the
-day; when unexcited it looks very harmless, but it is extremely agile,
-irritable, and bold, and combines all the qualities which render
-venomous serpents dangerous. Usually unseen, for its colour closely
-resembles that of the sand and the withered grass, it glides, often
-with uncanny rapidity, through the grass-forest, conscious of its
-terrible weapons, and ready for attack whenever it fancies danger.
-In attitude of defence it raises the anterior fifth or sixth of its
-body, and expands the neck ribs so as to form a sort of shield, above
-which lies the small head, with lively sparkling eyes. It fastens its
-sharp gaze on its opponent, and prepares for the bite which is quick
-as lightning and almost without exception fatal. Then its appearance
-is dreadful but yet beautiful, bewildering and terrifying to man and
-beast. It is generally asserted that this snake may kill without
-biting, by spitting or shooting its venom at its enemy;[46] and it is
-at any rate true that the poison-glands secrete the dread juice so
-copiously that great drops trickle from the openings of the perforated
-fangs. Little wonder that both natives and Europeans are much more
-afraid of this asp than of the sluggish horned viper which visits
-their bed by night. Nor is it difficult to understand why the stranger
-fires at every snake, even the most harmless, which comes within his
-sight, or why every rustling in the grass or foliage gives one a slight
-shock, or at least induces careful circumspection. But the rustling is
-continually to be heard in the steppe, for there are many other snakes
-no less common than the asp--many, from the huge python or hieroglyphic
-snake, sometimes nearly twenty feet in length, down to harmless
-grass-snakes of minute size. Besides these there is a countless host of
-lizards of all kinds.
-
-Whoever has a horror of snakes may perhaps be reconciled to the class
-of reptiles by the agile, beautifully-coloured lizards, for creatures
-more attractive than these are not to be found in the steppe. They dart
-to and fro on the ground; they clamber on the branches of the shrubs
-and trees; they look down from the hills of the termites and from the
-roofs of the houses; they make their way even under the sand. Some
-species vie with the humming-birds in the brightness and glitter of
-their colours; others fascinate by the swiftness and grace of their
-movements; others attract by the quaintness of their forms. Even after
-the sun, in whose light they live and move, has set, and most of
-these active creatures have gone to rest, the geckos are still left
-to the naturalist. During the day these lizards remain quietly fixed
-to the tree-boles and the rafters, but as night sets in they begin
-their activity. With loud and musical calls (to which they owe their
-name “Gecko”) they hunt about without any fear of man. The ancients
-libelled them and placed them among the most venomous of animals, and
-even to-day this superstition lurks in the minds of the ignorant. They
-are nocturnal animals, and as such somewhat different from the diurnal
-members of the lizard race. Thus one of their peculiar characteristics
-is the cushion-like expansion of the fingers and toes, whose soles
-are furnished with numerous closely appressed plaits of skin, which
-act like suckers and give the geckos extraordinary climbing powers.
-These plaited cushions were long ago erroneously interpreted as
-poison-secreting glands,--an idea which now seems absurd enough.[47]
-In truth the geckos are as harmless as they are attractive, and in a
-very short time they win the affection of every unprejudiced observer.
-Most valuable domestic pets they are, for they pursue with eagerness
-and success all kinds of troublesome insects. In every room of the
-mud and straw houses their nightly activity may be observed; they
-climb about with all but unfailing security, adhering by their plaited
-feet to almost anything; head up or head down they run on vertical or
-on horizontal surfaces, teasing and chasing one another in pleasant
-fashion, making one merry too with their musical notes; they give one
-nothing but pleasure and do nothing but good; what reasonable man can
-fail to become their friend?
-
-But they are reptiles still, and must remain under the curse; they
-cannot vie with the children of the air--the birds. And one may
-perhaps say that the birds are the first creatures to make a thoroughly
-favourable impression on the visitor to the steppe, and to reconcile
-him to the forbidding aspects of other animals.
-
-The bird-fauna of the steppes is rich alike in species and in
-individuals. Wherever we wander we are sure to hear and see birds. From
-the densest forest of grasses resounds the loud call of a bustard;
-from the thickets by the water-courses is heard the trumpeting of
-the guinea-fowl or the loud cry of the francolin; from the trees
-comes a medley of sound--the cooing and moaning of the doves, the
-shouts and hammering of the woodpecker, the melodious call of the
-barbets, the simple music of various weaver-finches and thrush-like
-songsters. The high branches of trees or other prominent positions
-serve as watch-towers for serpent-eagles, chanting goshawks, rollers,
-drongos, and bee-eaters, which sit there on the outlook for prey. The
-secretary-bird, which the natives call the Bird of Fate, runs about
-among the tall grass stems or hovers above them; in higher strata of
-the air one sees the whirling swallows and other birds which catch
-their prey on the wing; higher still the eagles and vultures are
-circling. No spot is untenanted, in fact almost every place is thickly
-peopled; and when our winter begins to reign it sends hither many of
-our birds, especially kestrels and harriers, shrikes and rollers,
-quails and storks, who find in the steppe a hospitable refuge during
-the evil days in the north.
-
-Few of the birds which live in the steppes can be regarded as
-distinctive, nor is the general character of the bird-fauna so clearly
-and sharply defined that one could at once recognize a steppe bird,
-as is possible with those of the desert. To some extent, however, the
-careful observer will notice that the birds of the steppe are congruent
-with their environment. The secretary-bird--a great bird of prey in
-the guise of a crane; the “snake-harrier”--a sluggish, slow-flying
-hawk clothed in rich, soft, large-feathered plumage; a straw-yellow
-night-jar, and another with decorative wing-feathers, a guinea-fowl
-or a francolin, a bustard or an ostrich: of these we might perhaps
-venture to say that they belong to the steppe, and are only there at
-home. It is not the case that the steppe is richer in colour than the
-desert, but it affords much more cover, and its tenants are therefore
-more freely coloured and marked. There are two colours to which it
-seems as if a preference were given; the one is a more or less shaded
-straw-yellow, the other is a hardly definable gray-blue. Both appear
-on the plumage of birds of prey and game-birds alike, but without, of
-course, excluding other darker, lighter, or more vivid colours. It
-seems to me worthy of note that the greater freedom of colouring and
-marking is also observable on those birds whose near relations are
-characteristic of the desert.
-
-We should like to give a more detailed description of some of the
-steppe birds which are most distinctive of the region, but selection is
-difficult, for almost every one of those which we have mentioned claims
-and merits close attention. But my limits force me to a choice, and it
-must suffice if I select a bird of the upper air, a bird of the ground,
-and a bird of the night, in order through them to add a few touches to
-our general picture of the steppe.
-
-No one who stays for any length of time in the steppe-land can fail to
-observe a large bird of prey, whose appearance as he flies, owing to
-the beautiful contour of the long pointed wings and exceedingly short
-tail, mark him off from every other feathered robber, whose flight
-moreover surpasses that of all creatures which fly. High above the
-ground he flies, hovers, glides, tumbles, flutters, dances, and throws
-himself headlong. As large as an eagle, he expands his great wings,
-and remains for a moment in the same position without any movement; he
-beats them violently, raises them high above his body, twists them and
-whirls them; he closes them and is precipitated almost to the ground;
-he gives a few powerful strokes, and in a few minutes has ascended to
-immeasurable heights. As he approaches the ground we see his vividly
-contrasted colours--the velvet black of the head, neck, breast, and
-belly, the silver white on the under surface of his wings, the light
-chestnut-brown of his tail; he throws himself headlong, and we notice
-the bright colour of the back resembling that of the tail and a broad
-light band on the wings; he comes still nearer, and we may perhaps
-detect the coral-red beak and cheeks and talons. If we question one
-of the nomad herdsmen observant of the animal life of the steppe in
-regard to this striking and altogether remarkable bird of prey, we
-may hear from his lips this significant and suggestive story. “To
-him,” he says, “the goodness of the All-merciful has given rich gifts,
-and, above all, high wisdom. For he is a physician among the birds of
-heaven, familiar with the diseases which visit the children of the
-Creator, and knowing all the herbs and roots with which to heal them.
-From far-off lands thou mayest see him bear the roots, but in vain dost
-thou seek to discover whither he is summoned to heal the sick. The
-working of his remedies is unfailing; to partake of them brings life,
-to reject them is to invite death; they are as the Hedijah written by
-the hand of God’s messenger, a precept of Mohammed, whom we reverence
-in humility. To the poor in the eyes of the Lord, to the sons of
-Adam, it is not forbidden to make use of them. Take note of where the
-physician-eagle has his dwelling, refrain from injuring his eggs, wait
-till the feathers of his young no longer draw any blood, and then go
-to his home and wound the body of one of his children. Thereupon shalt
-thou perceive the father fly towards morning in the direction in which
-thou turnest to pray. Be not discouraged in waiting for his return,
-have patience! He will appear bearing with him a root; frighten him so
-that he may leave it to thee, take it without fear; for it comes from
-the Lord, in whose hand are the issues of life, and it is free from all
-witchcraft. Then hasten to heal thy sick; they shall all recover, for
-so it is appointed to them by the Father of Mercies.”
-
-The bird which forms the subject of this poetic legend is the bateleur
-or short-tailed African eagle--the “Heaven’s ape” of the Abyssinians.
-The roots which, according to the legend, it carries, are snakes, which
-it picks up. Seldom does one see the bird rest; usually it flies, as
-has been described, until the sight of a snake induces it to hurl
-itself downwards and to engage in battle. Like all the snake-eating
-birds of prey, it is well protected against the venomous fangs by
-the thick horny plates on its talons and by its dense plumage; it is
-therefore unafraid of the most deadly snake, and is a true benefactor
-of the steppe-land. It is not this beneficence, however, but its
-marvellous flight that has won renown for the African eagle in the eyes
-of all the peoples among whom it has its home.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 28.--On an Ostrich Farm in South Africa.]
-
-The ostrich, which is bound to the earth, stands in striking contrast
-to the short-tailed eagle. He also is the hero of an Arabian legend,
-which, however, instead of glorifying him, brings him down to the dust;
-for the story is that the ostrich wished, in the exuberance of his
-vanity, to fly to the sun, but was in his attempt miserably burned, and
-hurled in his present form to the ground. To us his life is all the
-more worthy of consideration, that many false ideas still prevail both
-in regard to it and in regard to the bird himself.
-
-Although occurring in those low grounds of the African and West
-Asiatic deserts which are richest in vegetation, the ostrich becomes
-abundant only in the steppe. Here one is almost continually crossing
-his unmistakable “spoor”, though it is but rarely that one sees the
-bird. He is tall enough to see over the lofty grasses which conceal
-him, he is far-sighted and shy, and can therefore usually conceal
-himself from the approaching traveller. If one succeeds in observing
-him from a distance, one sees that, except at the breeding season, he
-is fond of a comfortable and easy-going life. In the early morning, and
-in the evening, the troop feed busily; at noon they all lie resting
-and digesting on the ground; sometimes they go together to water or
-to bathe (even in the sea); later on, they amuse themselves with
-marvellous dances,[48] jumping round in a circle as if out of their
-senses, fanning with their wing-plumes as if they would attempt to fly;
-at sunset they betake themselves to rest, but without neglecting to
-secure their safety. If a formidable enemy threaten them they rush off
-in wild flight, and soon leave him far behind; if a weaker carnivore
-sneak upon them, they strike him to the ground with their extremely
-powerful legs. Thus the course of their life runs smoothly, provided
-that there be no lack of food. Of this they require an enormous
-quantity. Their voracity is astounding, and not less is the capacity of
-their stomach to receive vast quantities of all sorts of things, which
-are either digested, or are retained without injury. Almost everything
-vegetable, from root-tubers to fruits, is accepted by their stomachs,
-which have now become proverbial; and so is it with small animals,
-both vertebrate and invertebrate. But such things by no means exhaust
-their menu. The ostrich swallows whatever can be swallowed, gulping
-down stones a pound in weight, and in captivity not disdaining pieces
-of tiles, oakum, rags, knives, single keys and bunches of keys, nails,
-pieces of glass and crockery, leaden balls, bells, and many other such
-things. Indeed, it may fall a victim to its indiscriminating appetite
-by devouring such stuff as unslaked lime. In the stomach of one which
-died in captivity there was found a heterogeneous mass weighing in
-all about nine pounds. In the poultry-yard the greedy bird swallows
-ducklings and chickens as if they were oysters; it dismantles walls
-to fill its gizzard with the loose mortar; in short, it will eat
-anything which is not a fixture. In proportion to the amount of food
-which it requires--and that is not out of proportion to its size and
-activity--so is its thirst. Thus it frequents those places where it
-finds not only abundance of nutritious plants, but also water-basins or
-springs. If both fail, the ostriches are forced to migrate, and in such
-cases they often cover great distances.
-
-With the coming of spring the mating instinct awakens in the heart of
-the ostrich, and then it changes its habit of life in a remarkable
-manner. The troops or herds break up into small groups, and the adult
-males begin their long-continued combats for mates. Excited to the
-highest pitch, as is outwardly indicated by the vivid reddening of
-neck and legs, two rivals stand opposed; they fan their wings so
-that the full splendour of their fluffy white plumes is displayed;
-they move their long necks in a scarce describable fashion, twisting
-and bending now forwards, now sideways; they utter deep and hoarse
-sounds, sometimes suggestive of a muffled drum, sometimes even of the
-roaring of lions; they stare at one another; they bend down on the
-soles of their feet, and move their necks and wings more rapidly and
-persistently than before; then they spring up again and rush at one
-another, seeking, in the swift encounter, to strike their opponent
-a powerful blow with the foot, and with the sharp-cutting toe-nail
-to make long, deep gashes on body and legs. The victor in the combat
-is not more gentle to the mate or mates which he has won, in fact he
-abuses them shamefully with bullying and blows. It is not at present
-perfectly certain whether a male keeps company with one female or
-with several;[49] it may be accepted as a fact, however, that several
-females often lay in the same nest, and it has been observed that the
-female does not undertake the whole responsibility of sitting on the
-eggs, but leaves much of this to the male, who, after about eight
-weeks’ brooding, also leads about the young and tends them. In both
-brooding and tending, the female does assist, but the male always
-has the larger share, and in leading about the young brood he shows
-more carefulness and solicitude than does the mother-bird. The young
-ostriches, when hatched, are about the size of an average hen, and
-come into the world with a remarkable suit of feathers, more like the
-bristly coat of a mammal than the customary down of young birds. As
-they exhibit the characteristic voracity of their race from the day
-of their birth, they grow quickly, and after two or three months they
-change their plumage and put on a garb resembling that of the female.
-At least three years must pass, however, before they are fully grown or
-ready for pairing.
-
-Such, in briefest statement, are the essential facts in regard to the
-life-history of the giant bird of the steppe; all the stories which are
-inconsistent with my summary are more or less fabulous.
-
-The bird of the night in regard to which I wish to say a few words is
-the night-jar or goat-sucker, whose race is represented at home by
-one species, but in the steppe by several somewhat remarkable forms.
-When the first star is seen in the evening sky these gayest and most
-charming of nocturnal birds begin to be active. During the day it is
-only by chance that we ever see one, and we scarce believe in its
-powers of enlivening the steppe-land. But, when night falls, at least
-one is sure to make its appearance. Attracted to the camp-fire like the
-scorpion and the viper, the softly-flying bird flits in ever-changing
-course around the watchers, alights near them for a moment, delivers a
-few strophes of its whirring night-song, which reminds one of a cat’s
-purring, is off again into the dusk, only to reappear in a few minutes,
-and so on until morning. One species is especially fascinating, the
-flag-winged night-jar, or “four-winged bird” of the natives. Its
-decorative peculiarity consists of a long feather which grows out
-between the primaries and secondaries[50] of each wing, without any
-vane except at the broad tip, and far exceeding all the other feathers
-in length, being in fact almost exactly half a yard in length. Eerily,
-like some ghost, this night-jar flies and flutters. It looks as if it
-were being constantly pursued by two others of smaller size, or as if
-it could divide itself into two or three birds, or as if it had indeed
-four wings. But it has all the charms of its race, and soon becomes
-a welcome visitor, contributing, like its fellows, not a little to
-alleviate most pleasantly the discomforts of the night.
-
-Like the birds, the mammals of the steppe are rich alike in numbers
-and in species. The abundant vegetation supports not only countless
-herds of antelopes, which are justly regarded as most characteristic
-of this region, but also buffaloes and wild boars, zebras and wild
-asses, elephants and rhinoceroses, the “serafe”, or giraffes, as we
-call them, besides a host of rodents with which we have only a general
-acquaintance. Against this dense population of herbivores, the numerous
-carnivores of the steppe wage unceasing war, and this is probably
-even to the advantage of the former, since, without some such check,
-the ruminants and rodents would tend to multiply beyond the limits of
-subsistence afforded even by the rich vegetation of this region. The
-uniformity of the North African steppes and the relatively (though
-not really) frequent occurrence of standing and flowing water hinder
-the formation of those immense mobs of antelopes which are observed
-in the Karroo of South Africa; everywhere, however, we come across
-these elegant, fine-eyed ruminants, singly, in small herds, or in
-considerable companies, and they seem to keep to approximately the same
-spots in summer and winter. Zebras and wild asses, on the other hand,
-are only found on the dry heights; the giraffe lives exclusively in
-the thin woods, while the rhinoceros almost always seeks the densest
-growths; the elephant entirely avoids broad open tracts, and the
-ill-tempered buffaloes cling to the moist low ground. On these last, as
-on the tame herds of cattle, the lion preys, while the cunning leopard
-and the nimble, untiring cheetah, are more given to stalking the
-antelopes; the jackals and steppe-wolves prefer the hares; the foxes,
-civets, and polecats seek the small rodents and those birds which live
-on the ground.
-
-From this abundant fauna I must select some for special notice, but
-I shall withstand the temptation of choosing lion or cheetah, hyæna
-or ratel, zebra or other wild horse, giraffe or buffalo, elephant
-or rhinoceros, for there are some others which seem to me more
-truly distinctive of the steppe. Among these I place in the first
-rank the ant-eater, or aard-vark, and the pangolin--the old-world
-representatives of the Edentates--which have their head-quarters in
-the western hemisphere, and belong to an order whose golden age lies
-many ages behind us. Both aard-vark and pangolin are, in North Africa
-at least, distinctively steppe animals, for it is only there that the
-ant-hills and termitaries are sufficiently numerous to afford them
-comfortable maintenance. Like all ant-eaters they lie during the day
-rolled up almost in a ball, sleeping in deep burrows which they have
-dug out, and which one sees opening alike on the broad, treeless,
-grass plain and among the sparse trees and shrubs. Only when night
-has set in do they become lively; with clumsy gait they hobble and
-jump about in search of food, progressing chiefly by means of their
-powerful hind-limbs, resting on the great burrowing claws of their
-fore-limbs and on their heavy tail. Their food consists exclusively
-of small creatures of all kinds, but especially of the larvæ of ants
-and termites, and of worms. Continually jerking its depressed nose
-and snuffing about, the ant-eater trots along, and, having discovered
-a pathway of the ants or termites, follows this home. Without much
-difficulty it makes an opening for its long snout, pushes this into
-the hole, and feels about with its tongue for the passages along which
-the insects hurry and scurry. Having stretched the tongue, which is
-viscid and thread-like, along one of the chief passages, it waits
-until it is covered with ants or termites, and then retracts it into
-the narrow mouth. So minute are the individual morsels that this may
-seem a somewhat miserable mode of making a meal, but the tongue is, in
-its way, just as effective as the powerful claws, and the ant-eater
-makes its way through life very comfortably. Nor are the animals by any
-means so helpless as they seem. The weak pangolin is protected more
-effectively by his armour, which is strong enough to turn a sword, than
-by the weapons on its feet; the aard-vark is able to use its claws most
-effectively, and can also give such smart side-blows with its heavy
-tail that it readily gets rid of an antagonist who is not of superior
-strength. But if a really formidable enemy draws near and is detected
-in time, the aard-vark burrows with the utmost rapidity, throwing out
-sand and dust with such force and in such quantities that an almost
-impenetrable, because blinding, veil saves it from attack until it is
-at a safe depth underground. Only to man with his far-reaching weapons
-does it fall an easy prey, for he stabs it asleep in its burrow, and
-kills it almost infallibly if the entrance to the hole be fairly
-straight and not too long. Thus, fate is too strong for even this
-old-world creature, and will sooner or later wipe out its name from the
-book of the living.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 29.--Hyæna-dogs pursuing Antelope.]
-
-Among the steppe beasts of prey one of the best known and most
-distinctive is a dog. A connecting link between the dogs and the
-hyænas, not only in form but to a certain extent in its markings,
-this animal--the hyæna-dog or Cape hunting-dog--is one of the most
-noteworthy figures in the steppe-picture, and also in its nature
-and habits one of the most interesting of all the carnivores of
-this region. Excepting certain monkeys, I know of no mammal so
-self-assertive, so wantonly aggressive, so emulous of exploits as
-this dog is, or, at any rate, seems to be. There is no limit to his
-ambition; no other mammal is quite secure from his attack. In large
-packs they traverse the broad steppe-land on eager outlook for booty.
-They ravage the sheep-flocks of the settlers and nomads; they follow
-persistently at the heels of the swiftest and most agile antelopes;
-audaciously they press in even upon men; fearlessly they dislodge,
-thanks perhaps to their noisy bravado, the other carnivores of the
-region which they frequent. Behind the strongest and most formidable
-antelope a pack rushes in full cry, barking, howling, whining, and
-now and then uttering a clear note of triumph. The antelope exerts
-all its strength, but the murderous dogs lose no ground, they cut off
-corners and prevent it doubling back, they come nearer and nearer
-and force it to stand at bay. Conscious of its strength and of its
-powers of defence, the antelope uses its pointed horns with skill
-and good effect; one dog after another may be hurled to the ground
-fatally transfixed; but the others fix on its throat and body, and
-the noble creature’s death-rattle soon puts an end to their howling.
-Without fear of man these dogs fall upon domestic animals of all kinds,
-tearing up the smaller sorts with the bloodthirstiness of martens,
-and mutilating those which are too large to be readily mastered. Nor
-are they afraid of domestic dogs, but fight with them to the death
-and leave them lifeless on the field. Thoroughly broken in and tamed,
-trained for several generations, they should become the most excellent
-of sporting-hounds; but the task of subjugation is certainly not an
-easy one. They do indeed become used to their master, and display some
-liking, even a certain fondness for him, but all in their own way.
-When called from their kennel, they jump up and down in the highest
-of spirits, fight with one another out of sheer joy, rush at their
-approaching master, leap up on him, try to show their gladness in the
-most extravagant ways, and are finally unable to express it except by
-biting him. A boisterous mischievousness and an uncontrollable impulse
-to bite are characteristic of almost all their doings. More excitable
-than almost any other creature, they move every member, they quiver in
-every fibre, when any novel occurrence attracts or occupies them; their
-mercurial vivacity is expressed in exaggerated gaiety and next moment
-in savage wildness. For they bite whatever comes in their way, without
-any provocation, probably without any ill-will, simply for fun. They
-are the most marvellous creatures in all the steppes.
-
-In those parts of the steppe which I have been more particularly
-considering--the Kordofan, Sennaar, and Taka regions--the animal life
-is not subject to destructive or disturbing influences to the same
-extent as in the south of Africa or in Central Asia. To those animals
-which do not migrate, or do not lie in death-like sleep for months, the
-winter may bring privations or even sharp want, but it does not involve
-the pangs of starvation or the torments of thirst; it does not force
-desperate creatures to leave an impoverished home, or seek for happier
-lands in mad flight. It is true that the animals of the North African
-steppes have their migrations and journeyings; but they do not flee
-in a panic as do those which inhabit other steppe-lands, and forsake
-them in hundreds of thousands before a threatened destruction. Of the
-immense herds of antelopes, such as crowd together in the south of
-Africa, one never hears in the north. All the gregarious mammals and
-birds gather together when the winter sets in, and disband when the
-spring draws near; all the migratory birds go and come about the same
-time; but all this takes place in an orderly, old-established fashion,
-not spasmodically nor without definite ends. There is, however, one
-power from whose influence the animal life of these steppe-lands is not
-exempt,--and that is fire.
-
-Every year, at the time when the dark clouds in the south and the
-lightning which flashes from them announce the approach of spring,
-during days when the south wind rages over the steppe, the nomad
-herdsman takes a firebrand and hurls it into the waving grass. Rapidly
-and beyond all stopping the fire catches. It spreads over broad
-stretches; smoke and steam by day, a lurid cloud by night, proclaim its
-destructive and yet eventually beneficial progress. Not unfrequently it
-reaches the primeval forest, and the flames send their forked tongues
-up the dry climbing-plants to the crowns of the trees, devouring the
-remaining leaves or charring the outer bark. Sometimes, though more
-rarely, the fire surrounds a village and showers its burning arrows on
-the straw huts, which flare up almost in a moment.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 30.--Zebras, Quaggas, and Ostriches flying before a
-Steppe-fire.]
-
-Although a steppe-fire, in spite of the abundance of combustible
-material, is rarely fatal to horsemen or to those who meet fire by
-fire, and just as rarely to the swift mammals, it exerts, nevertheless,
-a most exciting influence on the animal world, and puts to flight
-everything that lives hidden in the grass-forest. And sometimes the
-flight becomes a stampede, to hasten which the panic of the fugitives
-contributes more than the steady advance of the flames. Antelopes,
-zebras, and ostriches speed across the plain more quickly than the
-wind; cheetahs and leopards follow them and mingle with them without
-thinking of booty; the hunting-dog forgets his lust for blood; and
-the lion succumbs to the terror which has conquered the others. Only
-those which live in burrows are undismayed, for they betake themselves
-to their safe retreats and let the sea of fire roll over them.
-Otherwise it fares hardly with everything that creeps or is fettered
-to the ground. Few snakes and hardly the most agile of the lizards are
-able to outrun the fire. Scorpions, tarantulas, and centipedes either
-fall victims to the flames, or become, like the affrighted swarms of
-insects, the prey of enemies which are able to defy the conflagration.
-For as soon as a cloud of smoke ascends to the sky and gradually
-grows in volume, the birds of prey hasten thither from all quarters,
-especially serpent-eagles, chanting goshawks, harriers, kestrels,
-storks, bee-eaters, and swifts. They come to capture the lizards,
-snakes, scorpions, spiders, beetles, and locusts, which are startled
-into flight before the flames. In front of the line the storks and the
-secretary-birds stalk about undaunted; above them amid the clouds of
-smoke sweep the light-winged falcons, bee-eaters, and swifts; and for
-all there is booty enough. These birds continue the chase as long as
-the steppe burns, and the flames find food as long as they are fanned
-by the storms. Only when the winds die down do the flames cease.
-
-It is thus that the nomad clears his pasture of weeds and vermin,
-and prepares it for fresh growth. The ashes remain as manure, the
-life-giving rains carry this into the soil, and after the first
-thunder-storm all is covered with fresh green. All the former tenants,
-driven away in fear, return to their old haunts, to enjoy, after the
-hardships of winter and the recent panic, the pleasures of ease and
-comfort.
-
-
-
-
-THE PRIMEVAL FORESTS OF CENTRAL AFRICA.
-
-
-Rich as the African steppe really is, incomparably rich as it seems
-when compared with the desert, it nowhere exhibits the full luxuriance
-of tropical vegetation. It indeed receives everywhere the blessing of
-life-giving water; but this lasts too short a time to have a permanent
-influence. With the cessation of the rains the power of growth comes
-to an end, and heat and drought destroy what the rains have produced.
-Therefore only those plants can flourish in the steppe the course
-of whose life is run within a few weeks; those which are capable of
-outlasting centuries never attain to full development. Only in the
-low grounds, traversed by streams which never dry up, and watered
-by these as well as by the rains, where sunlight and water, warmth
-and moisture, work together, does the magic wealth of tropical lands
-develop and endure. Here have arisen forests which, in magnificence
-and beauty, grandeur and luxuriance, are scarce inferior to those of
-the most favoured lands of lower latitudes. They are primeval forests
-in the true sense of the word, for they grow and disappear, become old
-and renew their youth without help of man; even to this day they are
-sufficient unto themselves, and they support an extraordinary wealth of
-animal life.
-
-The storms of spring carry the rain-laden clouds from the south over
-the African countries lying north of the equator. Accordingly, these
-forests do not burst suddenly on the eye of the traveller journeying
-from the north, but become gradually more characteristic the farther
-south he penetrates. The nearer he approaches to the equator the more
-brilliantly the lightning flashes, the louder and more continuously
-the thunder rolls, the more noisily the rain-torrents fall, so much
-the more luxuriantly do all plants thrive, so much the richer in
-forms does the fauna become; the earlier the rainy season sets in
-the longer it lasts, and so much the greater is the charm it works.
-In exact proportion to the increase of moisture, the forest becomes
-denser, loftier, and more extensive. From the banks of the streams the
-plant-growth spreads into the interior, and takes possession of every
-available space, from the thickly-covered ground to the tops of the
-highest trees. Trees which are only dwarfs elsewhere, become giants
-here; known species become the hosts of still unknown parasites, and
-between them a plant-world hitherto unseen struggles towards the light.
-Even here, however, at least in the northern belt of the forest, the
-heat and drought of winter have still so strong an influence that they
-periodically destroy the foliage of the trees and condemn at least most
-of them to some weeks of complete inactivity. But the awakening call
-of spring rings the more clearly through the sleeping wood; the life
-which the first rains of the fertilizing season call forth stirs the
-more powerfully after the rest of winter.
-
-I shall select spring-time in these countries to depict the primeval
-forest as best I can. The south wind, herald and bearer of the
-rain-clouds, must still be in contest with the cooling breezes from the
-north if the forest is to reveal all its possible magnificence, and one
-must penetrate to its heart by one of its arteries, the rivers, if one
-wishes to see the fulness of its life. Let us take the Azrek or “Blue
-Nile”, rising in the mountains of Habesh, as our highway; for with it
-are linked the most exquisite pictures which a long life of travel have
-won for me, and I may prove a better guide on it than on another. I
-very much doubt, however, whether I shall prove such an interpreter of
-the forest as I should like to be. For the primeval forest is a world
-full of splendour, and brilliance, and fairy-like beauty; a land of
-marvels whose wealth no man has been able fully to know, much less to
-carry away; a treasure-house which scatters infinitely more than one
-can gather; a paradise in which the creation seems to take shape anew
-day by day; an enchanted circle which unfolds before him who enters
-it pictures, grand and lovely, grave and gay, bright as daylight and
-sombre as night; a thousand integral parts making up a whole infinitely
-complex, yet unified and harmonious, which baffles all description.
-
-One of the light little craft which one sees at Khartoum (the capital
-of the Eastern Soudan, lying at the junction of the two Nile streams)
-is transformed into a travelling boat, and bears us against the waves
-of the much-swollen Azrek. The gardens of the last houses of the
-capital disappear, and the steppe reaches down to the very bank of the
-river. Here and there we still see a village, or isolated huts lying
-prettily under mimosas and often surrounded by creeping and climbing
-plants which hang from the trees; nothing else is visible save the
-waving grass-forest and the few steppe trees and shrubs which rise
-from its midst. But after a short journey the forest takes possession
-of the bank, and spreads out its thorny or spine-covered branches
-even beyond it. Thenceforward our progress is slow. The wind blowing
-against us prevents sailing, the forest renders towing impossible.
-With the boat-hook the crew pull the little craft foot by foot, yard
-by yard, farther up the stream, till one of their number espies a gap
-where he can gain a foothold in the thick hedge-wall of the bank, and,
-committing his mortal body to the care of Muhsa, the patron-saint of
-all sailors, and praying for protection from the crocodiles which are
-here abundant, he takes the towing-rope between his teeth, plunges
-into the water, swims to the desired spot, fastens the rope round the
-trunk of a tree, and lets his companions pull the boat up to it. Thus
-the boatmen toil from early morning till late in the evening, yet they
-only speed the traveller perhaps five, or at most ten miles on his way.
-Nevertheless the days fly past, and none who have learned to see and
-hear need suffer from weariness there. To the naturalist, as to every
-thoughtful observer, every day offers something new; to the collector,
-a wealth of material of every kind.
-
-Every now and again one comes upon traces of human beings. If one
-follows them from the bank, along narrow paths hemmed in on either side
-by the dense undergrowth, one arrives at the abodes of a remarkable
-little tribe. They are the Hassanie who dwell there. Where the forest
-is less dense, and where the trees do not form a three-or four-fold
-roof with their crowns, but consist of tall, shady mimosas, Kigelias,
-tamarinds, and baobabs, these folk erect their most delightful tent-or
-booth-like huts, so different from all the other dwellings one sees
-in the Soudan. “Hassanie” means the descendants of Hassan, and Hassan
-means the Beautiful; and not without reason does this tribe bear this
-name. For the Hassanie are indisputably the handsomest people who
-dwell in the lower and middle regions of the river-basin, and the
-women in particular surpass almost all other Soudanese in beauty of
-form, regularity of feature, and clearness of skin. Both men and women
-faithfully observe certain exceedingly singular customs, which among
-other people are, with reason, considered immoral. The Hassanie are
-therefore at once famous and notorious, sought out and avoided, praised
-and scoffed at, extolled and abused. To the unprejudiced traveller,
-eager to study manners and customs, they afford much delight, if not
-by their beauty at least by their desire for approbation, which must
-please even the least susceptible of men. This trait is much more
-conspicuous in them than even the self-consciousness which beauty
-gives: they must and will please. The preservation of their beauty is
-their highest aim, and counts for more than any other gain. To avoid
-sunburning, which would darken their clear brown skins, they live
-in the shade of the forest, contenting themselves with a few goats,
-their only domestic animals except dogs, and foregoing the wealth that
-numerous herds of cattle and camels afford their nomadic relatives.
-That their charms may be in no way spoiled, they strive above all to
-become possessed of female slaves, who relieve them of all hard work;
-to decorate face and cheeks they endure heroically, even as little
-girls, the pain inflicted by the mother as she cuts with a knife three
-deep, parallel, vertical wounds in the cheeks, that as many thick,
-swollen scars may be formed, or as she pricks forehead, temples, and
-chin with a needle and rubs indigo powder into the wounds, so producing
-blue spirals or other devices; to avoid injury to their dazzling white,
-almost sparkling teeth, they eat only lukewarm food; to preserve as
-long as possible their most elaborate coiffure, which consists of
-hundreds of fine braids, stiffened with gum arabic and richly oiled,
-they use no pillow save a narrow, crescent-shaped, wooden stand, on
-which they rest their heads while sleeping. To satisfy their sense of
-beauty, or perhaps in order that they may be seen and admired by every
-inhabitant or visitor, they have thought out the singular construction
-of their huts.
-
-These huts may be perhaps best compared to the booths to be seen at
-fairs. The floor, which consists of rods as thick as one’s thumb bound
-closely together, rests upon a framework of stakes rising about a
-yard from the ground, thus making the dwelling difficult of access to
-creeping pests, and raising it from the damp ground. The walls consist
-of mats; the roof, overhanging on the north side, which is left open,
-is made of a waterproof stuff woven from goat’s hair. Neatly plaited
-mats of palm-leaf strips cover the floor; prettily-wrought wicker-work,
-festoons of shells, water-tight plaited baskets, earthen vessels,
-drinking-cups made from half a bottle-gourd, gaily-coloured utensils
-also plaited, lids, and other such things decorate the walls. Each
-vessel is daintily wrought and cleanly kept; the order and cleanliness
-of the whole hut impress one the more that both are so uncommon.
-
-In such a hut the Hassanie dreams away the day. Dressed in her best,
-her hair and skin oiled with perfumed ointment, a long, lightly-woven,
-and therefore translucent piece of cloth enveloping the upper part of
-her body, a piece of stuff hanging petticoat-like from the waist, her
-feet adorned with daintily-worked sandals, neck and bosom hung with
-chains and amulets, arms with bracelets of amber, her nose possibly
-decorated with a silver, or even a gold ring, she sits hidden in
-the shade and rejoices in her beauty. Her little hand is busy with
-a piece of plaiting, some house utensil or article of dress, or
-perhaps it holds only her tooth-brush, a root teased out at both ends,
-and admirably adapted to its purpose. All the work of the house is
-done by her slave, all the labour of looking after the little flock
-by her obliging husband. The carefully thought-out and remarkable
-marriage-relations customary in the tribe, and adhered to in defiance
-of all the decrees and interference of the ruler of the land, guarantee
-her unheard-of rights. She is mistress in the most unlimited sense
-of the word, mistress also of her husband, at least as long as her
-charms remain; only when she is old and withered does she also learn
-the transitoriness of all earthly pleasure. Till then, she does what
-seems good in her eyes, her freedom bounded only by the limits which
-she has herself laid down. As long as the crowns of the trees do not
-afford complete shade around her hut she does not go out of doors, but
-offers every passer-by, particularly any stranger who calls upon her, a
-hearty welcome, and with or without her husband’s aid, does the honours
-of the tribe with almost boundless hospitality. Yet it is only when
-the evening sets in that her real life begins. Even before the sun has
-set, there is a stir and bustle in the settlement. One friend visits
-her neighbour, others join them; drum and zither entice the rest, and
-soon slender, lithe, supple figures arrange themselves for a merry
-dance. Delicate hands dip the drinking-cups into the big-bellied urn,
-filled with Merieza or dhurra beer, that the hearts of the men also may
-be glad. Old and young are assembled, and they celebrate the evening
-festival the more joyfully that it is honoured by the presence of
-strangers. The hospitality of all the Soudanese is extraordinary, but
-in no other race is it so remarkable as among the Hassanie.
-
-In the course of our journey we come upon other settlements of these
-forest-shepherds, sometimes also on the villages of other Soudanese,
-and at length, after travelling nearly a month, we reach the desired
-region. The dense forest on both banks of the river prevents our
-searching gaze from seeing farther into the country. In this region
-there are no settlements of men, neither fields nor villages, not
-even temporarily inhabited camps; the ring of the axe has not yet
-echoed through these forests, for man has not yet attempted to
-exploit them; in them there dwell, still almost unmolested, only
-wild beasts. Impenetrable hedges shut off the forests, and resist
-any attempt to force a way from the stream to the interior. Every
-shade of green combines to form an enchanting picture, which now
-reminds one of home, and again appears entirely foreign. Bright green
-mimosas form the groundwork, and with them contrast vividly the silver
-glittering palm-leaves, the dark green tamarinds, and the bright green
-Christ-thorn bushes; leaves of endless variety wave and tremble in
-the wind, exposing first one side and then the other, shimmering and
-glittering before the surfeited and dazzled eye, which seeks in vain
-to analyse the leafy maze, to distinguish any part from the whole.
-For miles both banks present the same appearance, the same denseness
-of forest, the same grandeur, everywhere equally uninterrupted and
-impenetrable.
-
-At last we come upon a path, perhaps even on a broad road, which seems
-to lead into the depths of the forest. But we search in vain for any
-traces of human footprints. Man did not make this path; the beasts
-of the forest have cleared it. A herd of elephants tramped through
-the matted thicket from the dry heights of the bank to the stream.
-One after another in long procession the mighty beasts broke through
-the undergrowth, intertwined a thousand-fold, letting nought save the
-strongest trees divert them from their course. If branches or stems
-as thick as a man’s leg stood in the way they were snapped across,
-stripped of twigs and leaves, all that was eatable devoured, and
-the remainder thrown aside, the bushes which covered the ground so
-luxuriantly were torn up by the roots, and used or thrown aside in the
-same manner, grass and plants were trodden under foot. What the first
-comers left fell to those behind, and thus arose a passable road often
-stretching deep into the heart of the forest. Other animals have taken
-advantage of it, treading it down more thoroughly, and keeping it in
-passable condition. By it the hippopotamus makes his way at night when
-he tramps from the river to feed in the woods; the rhinoceros uses it
-as he comes from the forest to drink; by it the raging buffalo descends
-to the valley and returns to the heights; along it the lion strides
-through his territory; and there one may meet the leopard, the hyæna,
-and other wild beasts of the forest. We set foot on it, and press
-forwards.
-
-After a few steps the magnificent forest surrounds us on all sides.
-But, here also, it seems in vain to attempt to unravel the confusion of
-stems and branches, twigs and shoots, tendrils and leaves. The forest
-hems in such a path on both sides like a wall. The ground is everywhere
-covered with thickly-matted bushes, which one cannot even see through;
-but, struggling through these, all sorts of grasses have sprung up,
-forming a second undergrowth; just above that, tall-stemmed bushes and
-low trees spread their branches on all sides; over these again rise
-taller trees, and above them all tower the giants of the forest. By far
-the greater number of bushes in the undergrowth are thickly covered
-with thorns, while the mimosas towering above them are armed with long,
-hard, sharp spines, and even the grasses have burr-like seed-capsules
-covered with fine prickles, or ears set with sharp hooks, so that every
-attempt to penetrate the forest from the path is foiled by a thousand
-obstacles. The bird the huntsman’s gun has brought down is lost to him
-because in falling it is caught in a bush which he cannot reach without
-an amount of exertion quite out of proportion to the object; the game
-which conceals itself in a shrub before our very eyes is saved because
-we can no longer perceive it; a crocodile about three yards long,
-which we startled in the wood, escapes us by withdrawing itself into
-an isolated bush so completely that we cannot see a scale of it, and
-accordingly cannot fire a shot to any purpose.
-
-Still we continue striving vainly to master the wealth of impressions,
-to separate one picture from another, to see any one tree from the
-ground to its top, to distinguish the leaves of one from those of
-another. From the stream it had been possible to distinguish some
-of the fresh green tamarinds from the mimosas of various species
-surrounding them, to recognize the magnificent kigelias, reminding
-us slightly of our own elms, to delight in the palm-crowns towering
-over the rest of the trees: here, in the depths of the forest, all the
-individual parts are fused into an inseparable whole. All the senses
-are claimed at once. From the leafy dome which the eye attempts to
-penetrate is wafted the balsamic fragrance of some mimosas now in
-bloom; and hence also there rings continually in the ear a medley
-of the most varied sounds and notes, from the guttural cries of the
-monkeys or the screeching of parrots, to the modulated songs of birds
-and the buzzing of the insects flying about the blossoming trees. The
-sense of touch is no less fully, if not quite agreeably stimulated by
-the innumerable thorns, while that of taste may regale itself with the
-few attainable, but more or less unpalatable fruits.
-
-But at last we do come upon a distinct and definite picture. A tree,
-mighty in its whole structure, gigantic even in its minor branches,
-rises above the innumerable plants surrounding its base; like a
-giant it presses upwards and takes possession of space for its
-trunk and crown. It is the elephant, the pachyderm among the trees,
-the Adansonia, the _tabaldie_ of the natives, the baobab. We stand
-in amazement to gaze on it; for the eye must become accustomed to
-the sight before it can take in the details. Picture a tree, the
-circumference of whose trunk, at a man’s height from the ground, may
-measure a hundred and twenty feet, whose lower branches are thicker
-than the trunks of our largest trees; whose twigs are like strong
-branches, and whose youngest shoots are thicker than one’s thumb;
-remember that this mighty giant of the plant-world rises to a height
-of about one hundred and thirty feet, and that its lowest branches
-spread out to almost sixty, and you will be able to form some idea
-of the impression it makes on the beholder. Of all the trees of the
-primeval forests in this region, the baobab is the first to lose its
-leaves, and it remains longest in its winter repose; during this season
-all its branches and twigs stretch out leafless into the air, while
-from most of them there hang, by long flexible stalks, fruits about
-the size of a melon, containing a mealy, slightly sour pulp between
-the seeds--the whole a sight which stamps itself ineffaceably on the
-memory. But, after the first rains of spring, great, five-lobed leaves
-unfold, enhancing the charm of this wondrous tree, and when, between
-the leaves, the long-stalked buds disclose white flowers as large as
-roses, this incomparable giant is transformed, as if by magic, into an
-enormous rose-bush of indescribable beauty, the sight of which stirs
-the heart of even the most matter-of-fact of men with admiration.
-
-No other tree in the forest can be compared with the baobab; even the
-duleb-palm, which raises its head above all the surrounding trees,
-cannot bear comparison with it in charm and impressiveness. Yet the
-duleb-palm is one of the most splendid trees found in the interior of
-Africa, and one of the finest palms in the world; its trunk is a pillar
-which no artist could have surpassed; its crown a capital worthy of
-such a pillar. The upright trunk thickens just above the ground, and
-thins in a remarkable manner to about half its height, then begins
-to bulge out, then again diminishes, and swells out once more just
-under the crown. This consists of broad, fan-like leaves, hardly less
-than a square yard in extent, whose stalks stand out straight on all
-sides round a middle point, thus giving the tree a most impressive
-individuality. The fruits attain to about the size of a child’s head,
-and the clusters hanging among the leaves greatly enhance the beauty of
-the crown, which is, indeed, an ornament to the whole forest.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 31.--The Baobab Tree--Central Africa.]
-
-The legendary always clings about the gigantic; it lives on it, and
-takes form and meaning from it. This thought occurs to one when one
-sees, as frequently happens, the baobab overgrown with the tendrils
-of one of the climbing plants which beautify these forests in rich
-abundance. Climbing plants have always seemed to me a fitting emblem
-of the Arabian fairy tales. For as they appear to require no soil,
-although they have sprung from it, but to take their chief nourishment
-from the air; as they wind their flexible stems from tree to tree,
-attaching themselves firmly to each, yet struggling on, until, at
-length, they unfold on some flowerless tree-top, covering it with
-radiant, fragrant blossoms: so the fairy tale, though it may have
-been firmly rooted in fact, is not sustained by any real connection
-therewith, but reaches up to heaven for strength, and sends its poetry
-over all the world until it finds a heart which beats responsive. When
-I speak of climbing plants I do not mean any one species, but include
-under the term all those plants which here thickly cover a trunk with
-their tortuous coils, and there spread their tendrils over a bare
-tree-top; which in one place link many trees together, and in another
-cover a single tree with wreaths of green; which in one part of the
-forest link branch to branch with bridges of naked tendrils, and in
-another region combine to render the way impassable; occurring in a
-hundred different forms, but always twining and climbing. Their beauty,
-the charm they exercise on the northerner may be felt but cannot be
-described, for words to begin or end a satisfactory description would
-be as difficult to find as the beginnings and ends of the climbers
-themselves. These climbing plants, though within reach of one’s hand,
-yet do not allow of close observation; one follows the course of their
-tendrils admiringly, but without being able to say whence they come and
-whither they go; one revels in the sight of their flowers without being
-able to reach them, or often do more than guess to what plants they
-belong. These climbers, above all else, impress on the woodlands the
-stamp and seal of the primitive forest.
-
-But they have other ornaments than the blossoms which they themselves
-unfold. Their tendrils are the favourite perches of many of the most
-beautiful birds of the forest, living flowers which far surpass those
-of the plant in beauty and charm. Sometimes it happens that a sudden
-flash, like a sun-ray reflected from a smooth, bright surface, catches
-the eye and guides it to the spot from which it emanated. The shimmer
-is indeed a sunbeam--a sunbeam reflected from the glossy plumage
-of a metallic starling, now in one direction, now in another, with
-every movement. Delighted by the wonderful beauty of this bird, one
-would gladly observe it carefully, and learn something of its life
-and habits; but one’s attention is continually being claimed by new
-phenomena. For here, too, picture crowds upon picture. Where the
-metallic starling sat a few moments before, there appears a no less
-brilliant golden cuckoo, a sun-bird or honey-sucker rivalling the
-humming-birds in beauty of plumage, a pair of charming bee-eaters,
-a roller displaying his brilliant feathers, a halcyon no less
-beautiful, a paradise fly-catcher, whose long, drooping, median
-tail-feathers give the little creature such a surprising splendour, a
-turaco unfolding his deep purple-red feathers at every stroke of his
-wings, a shrike whose flaming red breast excels even these wings in
-brightness, a quaintly-shaped hornbill, a golden weaver-bird, a vidua
-or “widow-bird”, a wood-hoopoe with its metallic brilliance, a dainty
-woodpecker, a leaf-green dove, a flight of similarly coloured parrots,
-and many other feathered inhabitants of the forest. This is a specially
-favoured home of birds, affording food and shelter to many hundreds
-and thousands of different species, so that one sees them much sooner
-and much more frequently than any of the other creatures which have
-their home in the forest. Birds animate every part, from the ground
-to the tops of the tallest trees, from the most impenetrable bushes
-to the leafless branches of the baobab. Among the grasses and other
-plants growing luxuriantly on the ground the well-trodden paths of
-francolin and perhaps also guinea-fowl twine and intertwine in every
-direction; the leafy spaces just above the root-stocks of the bushes
-are occupied by little doves, the spreading portion of their tops
-by various beautiful birds, especially sun-birds and finches, while
-families of colies shoot down, like arrows from a bow, to where the
-bush-tops are so thickly matted and thoroughly interwoven that they
-seem quite impenetrable, and, by creeping and clinging, pushing through
-every possible gap and opening, succeed in forcing their way into the
-centre, there to seek for food; wood-hoopoes, titmice, and woodpeckers
-hang or climb about, examining every crevice in the bark of the trunks
-which rise just above the bushes; delightful bee-eaters or rollers,
-paradise fly-catchers and drongos sit on the lower twigs of the second
-layer of tree-tops awaiting their flying prey; on the stronger branches
-of the third layer turacos hop about, small herons walk with dignity
-backwards and forwards, horned and other owls cling closely to the
-stems and sleep; parrots and barbets flit about among the thick foliage
-of the tallest trees, while eagles, falcons, and vultures have settled
-on their topmost boughs. Wherever one casts one’s eye there is a bird.
-
-As might be expected from this universal distribution, or indeed
-omnipresence, we hear continually the most varied bird-voices. They
-coax and call, pipe and whistle, chirp and twitter, trill and warble,
-coo and chatter, scream and crow, screech and cackle, cry and sing
-on all sides of us, above and beneath, early and late, and all day
-long. A hundred different voices sound together, now blending into a
-wonderful harmony, now into a bewildering maze of sounds which one
-seeks in vain to analyse, in which only long practice enables one
-to differentiate individual voices. With the exception of thrushes,
-bulbuls, several species of warblers, and drongos, there are no
-true songsters, but there are many pleasing babblers and delightful
-chatterers, and an endless number who scream, cackle, croak, and utter
-various more or less shrill sounds. Taken collectively, therefore,
-the bird-notes of the primitive forest cannot for a moment compare
-in tunefulness and sweetness with the spring songs of our own woods,
-but the individual voices are most remarkable. Wild doves coo, moan,
-laugh, and call from the tree-tops and the thickest bushes, francolins
-and guinea-fowl cackle loudly from their midst, parrots screech,
-ravens croak, plantain-eaters succeed in most accurately mimicking
-the strange guttural cries of a troop of long-tailed monkeys, while
-the turacos utter sounds like those made by a ventriloquist; barbets
-whistle loudly in slurred notes, their voices together making a
-ringing song, so intricate, yet so full of expression that it must
-be reckoned one of the most distinctive sounds of the forest; the
-shimmering metallic starlings sing, and though they can only compass a
-few rough sounds, now croaking, now screeching, now squeaking, these
-are arranged, combined, blended, and allowed to die away in endless
-repetition; the magnificent screaming sea-eagle, resident beside
-all the water-courses and water-basins of the forest, justifies his
-name. High on a tree-top sits the “abu tok” (producer of the sound
-“tok”) of the natives, a small hornbill, calling his “tok” loudly and
-accompanying each sound with a nod of his head, weighted with its
-disproportionately large bill. Only this one sound does his unpliant
-voice produce, yet with it he expresses his love to the mate he is
-wooing, or has won, as intelligibly as the nightingale tells its tale
-in its bewitching song. The emotion swelling in his breast struggles
-for expression. The cries follow each other in more and more rapid
-succession, the appropriate movements become more and more rapid, until
-the heavy head is too tired to accompany any longer, and one phrase of
-this singular love-song comes to an end, to be begun and sung through
-again in precisely the same manner a few minutes later. From the
-unapproachable thicket sounds the voice of the _hagedash_ or wood-ibis,
-and a slight shudder seizes the listener. The song of this bird is a
-lamentation of the most pitiful kind; it sounds as if a little child
-were being painfully tortured, perhaps slowly roasted over a small
-fire, and were crying out in its anguish; for long-drawn plaintive
-sounds alternate with shrill cries, sudden shrieks with faint moanings.
-From the high-lying parts of the forest, where there are small bare
-patches, resound the far-reaching metallic trumpet-tones with which
-the crested crane accompanies his graceful, lively dances in honour
-of his mate, and these awaken an echo in the forest, as well as in
-the throat of every bird possessed, like himself, of a ringing voice,
-so that his cry is the signal for a simultaneous outburst of song
-from a large number of other birds. Thus incited, every bird with any
-voice at all gives utterance to it, and for a time a flood of varied
-sounds drowns the individual voices. But it is not only the different
-species of feathered inhabitants of the forest who thus take different
-parts in the piece; sometimes even the two sexes of one species
-each sing a different part. The babbling thrushes, plantain-eaters,
-francolins, and guinea-fowl scream together like the barbets already
-described, and thus evoke those strange complex phrases, which ring out
-distinctly from the general confusion of voices. But in a few species,
-particularly in the bush-shrikes, the male and female each sing a
-distinct part. In one species which I observed--the scarlet shrike--the
-male sings a short strophe, reminding one of the intricate whistle
-of our golden oriole. In another--the flute-shrike--the male utters
-three bell-like flute-notes, striking third, key-note, and octave.
-Immediately following comes the answer of the female, in both cases a
-disagreeable croaking not easily described, but as unfailingly correct
-in time as if the birds had been instructed by a musician. Sometimes it
-happens that the female begins, and croaks four or five times before
-the answer comes; then the male strikes in again, and they alternate
-with their usual regularity. I have convinced myself experimentally
-as to this co-operation of the sexes, by shooting now the male and
-now the female, and in every case only the notes of the surviving sex
-could be heard. It must be allowed that these notes, enchanting as they
-are at first, lack the richness and variety, as the collective voices
-lack the tunefulness and harmony, of the bird songs in our woods at
-home; nevertheless it is a grand and impressive melody which one hears
-in the primitive forest in spring-time when hundreds and thousands of
-voices mingle together, millions of insects swarm with loud bumming and
-buzzing round the blossom-laden trees, countless lizards and snakes
-rustle through the dry foliage, and every now and then the shrill yet
-sonorous call of the eagle sounds down from above, the trumpet notes
-of the crested crane or the guinea-fowl are heard for the time above
-all other voices, immediately afterwards a warbler sings his charming
-song quite close to the listener’s ear, and again, one of the screamers
-gives the key-note, which awakes an echo from a thousand throats.
-
-If the naturalist succeeds in becoming more at home in the forest than
-he had at first ventured to hope, he gets many delightful glimpses
-of the domestic life of animals, and more particularly of birds. It
-is still spring-time, and love reigns in all hearts. The birds sing
-and caress, build their nests, and brood. Even from the boat one can
-observe the brooding colonies of some species.
-
-On a perpendicular part of the river bank, at a safe distance above
-the high-water mark, the bee-eaters have hollowed out their deep
-brooding burrows, narrow at the entrance, but widening out into
-an oven-like form at the inner end. The whole colony only covers a
-few square yards, though it consists of at least thirty, and more
-frequently from eighty to a hundred pairs. The circular openings to
-the various holes, measuring only from one and a half to two inches in
-diameter, are not more than six inches distant from each other. It is
-difficult to understand how each pair knows the entrance to its own
-hole; yet even when they come from a distance the delicately-winged
-active birds fly straight to the proper holes without hesitation or
-apparent consideration; their incomparably sharp eyes, which can detect
-a passing fly a hundred paces away, never mislead them. The bustling
-life about the colony is a fascinating sight. Every tree or bush in the
-neighbourhood is decorated with at least one pair of the beautiful,
-sociable birds; on every branch which affords an outlook sits a pair,
-and each mate takes a tender interest in all that concerns the other.
-In front of the nest-holes the bustle is like that about a bee-hive;
-some glide in, others glide out; some come, others go; many hover
-continually around the entrance to their brooding-places. Only when
-night draws on do they disappear into their holes; then all is quiet
-and still.
-
-At a different part of the bank, where tall trees droop over the
-water, or are surrounded by it when it is very high, the golden
-weaver-birds have established a colony. They, too, brood in companies,
-but they build hanging nests cleverly plaited from stalks or fibres,
-and attached to the points of the outermost branches of the trees. No
-covetous monkey or other egg-robber, not even a snake, can approach
-these nests without running a risk of falling into the water. At least
-thirty, but more frequently forty to sixty, weaver-birds build on a
-single tree, and their nests give it a most characteristic aspect;
-indeed, they have a striking effect on the whole landscape. Unlike
-other birds, it is in this case not the females but the males who build
-the nest, and they do it with such unstinted eagerness that they make
-work for themselves after they have finished what is really necessary.
-Carrying in their bills a stalk newly bitten off, or a teased-out
-fibre, they hang by their feet to a twig, or to the nest itself, keep
-themselves in position by fluttering their wings, and work in their
-material, singing all the while. When one nest is built and finished
-inside, they proceed to make a second and a third; indeed, they may
-even pull a finished work to pieces again to satisfy their love of
-building. Thus they go on until the female, who has meanwhile been
-brooding, claims their assistance in the rearing of the young ones.
-This activity animates the whole colony, and the golden-yellow, mobile,
-active birds sitting or hanging in the most varied positions, are an
-ornament to the tree already decorated with their nests.
-
-On the mimosas, which are leafless just at the general brooding time,
-the cow-weaver birds have erected structures very large for the size
-of the birds, which are scarcely so large as our starlings. Their
-nests are placed among the thickest branches at the top of the thorny
-mimosas, and as they are made entirely of thorny twigs on the outside,
-they have much the appearance of a scrubbing-brush; they are often
-more than a yard long, half as high and broad, and enclose roomy
-brooding-chambers entered by winding tunnels corresponding to the size
-of the birds, and impassable to other animals. On these trees, and
-about these nests, too, there is much lively and noisy bustle.
-
-In the heart of the forest itself an attentive observer finds nests
-everywhere, though it is often difficult to recognize them. Little
-finches, for instance, build nests which are deceptively like heaps
-of dried grass blown together by the wind, but inside there is a
-soft, warm brooding-chamber lined with feathers; other birds choose
-building materials the colour of which is deceptively like that of
-the surroundings, while others do not build at all, but lay their
-earth-coloured eggs on the bare ground. Every cavity in the trees is
-now inhabited, and woodpeckers, barbets, and parrots are constantly at
-work making new chambers, or widening and adapting already existing
-cavities into brooding-holes, while the hornbills, on the other hand,
-busy themselves plastering up the too-wide entrances. The last-named
-birds are specially distinctive in their brooding habits, and deserve
-to be mentioned first.
-
-When the hornbill by ardent wooing has won a mate, he helps her to
-seek out a suitable hole to serve as a nest. This found, he labours
-painfully with his clumsy bill to enlarge it to the required size.
-Then the female prepares to lay her eggs, and both mates plaster up
-the entrance, the female working from the inside, the male from the
-outside, until all is closed up save an opening large enough for the
-female to force her bill through. Shut off from the outer world in this
-isolated brooding-chamber, the female sits on her eggs, and the male
-has to feed not only his imprisoned mate, but later the quickly-growing
-ever hungry young ones, which remain in captivity until they are fully
-fledged. Then the mother breaks open the entrance from within, and the
-whole family emerges to the world fat and in good feather, thereby
-relieving from further toil the husband and father, who is reduced to a
-skeleton with the labour and anxiety of filling so many mouths.[51]
-
-Similar conjugal and paternal tenderness is exhibited by the
-umber-bird, a stork-like bird about the size of a raven, which leads
-a quiet, nocturnal life in the forest, and builds an enormous nest,
-one of the most remarkable built by any bird. These nests are usually
-placed at but a short distance from the ground, in forks of the trunk,
-or on any thick boughs of the lower part of the crown that are strong
-enough to bear them; for they exceed the nests of the largest birds of
-prey in circumference and weight, being often from one and a half to
-two yards in diameter and not much less in height, and consisting of
-fairly thick branches and twigs, which are neatly stuck together or
-mortared with clay. If one does not happen to notice how the umber-bird
-slips out and in one would never imagine that these structures were
-hollow, but would rather take them for the eyrie of a bird of prey,
-especially as eagles and horned owls frequently nest on the top of
-them. But when one has seen the real owner enter, and has inspected
-the nest closely, one finds that the interior is divided into three
-compartments, connected by holes which serve as doors, and further
-observation reveals that these three compartments answer the purpose of
-hall, reception or dining room, and brooding-chamber. This last room,
-the farthest back, is slightly higher than the rest, so that if any
-water should get in it can flow away; but the whole structure is so
-excellently built that even heavy and long-continuing showers of rain
-do very little damage. Within the brooding-chamber, on a soft cushion
-of sedge and other materials, lie the three, four, or five white eggs
-on which the female sits; in the middle chamber the male meantime
-stores up all sorts of provisions, a bountiful supply of fish, frogs,
-lizards, and other dainties which he has caught, so that his mate can
-choose from these stores, and has only to reach forward to satisfy her
-hunger; in the entrance chamber the male stands or sits, whenever he
-is not busy hunting for food, to keep guard and to cheer his mate with
-his society, until the growing offspring take up the whole attention of
-both.[52]
-
-The association of umber-bird and eagle or horned owl is not a solitary
-instance of friendly companionship on the part of birds belonging
-to different species and totally unlike in their habits. On the
-broad, fan-like leaves of the magnificent duleb-palm, which stand out
-horizontally from the trunk, the nests of the dwarf peregrine falcon
-and the guinea-dove often stand so close together that the falcon could
-easily grasp one of his neighbour’s young ones. But he does not touch
-them, for he is only accustomed to attack birds on the wing, and thus
-the little doves grow up in safety beside the little falcons, and the
-parents of both often sit peacefully beside each other, near their
-respective nests.[53]
-
-Another palm gave me an opportunity of observing birds whose brooding
-surprised and fascinated me greatly. Round a single tom-palm there
-flew, with constant cries, small-sized swifts, nearly related to our
-own swifts, and my attention was thus directed to the tree itself. On
-close observation I saw that the birds frequently repaired between the
-leaves, and I then discovered on the grooves of the leaf-stalks light
-points which I took to be nests. I climbed the tree, bent one of the
-leaves towards me, and saw that each nest, which was made chiefly of
-cotton, was plastered firmly in the angle between the stalk and the
-midrib of the leaf, cemented by salivary secretion, after the method
-usually followed by swifts. But the hollow of the nest appeared to me
-so flat that I wondered how the two eggs could remain lying when the
-leaf was shaken by the wind. And it must have shaken with the slightest
-breath, not to speak of the storms which often raged here! Carefully I
-reached out my hand to take out the eggs; then I saw with astonishment
-that the mother had glued them firmly to the nest. And as I examined
-newly-hatched, tiny, helpless young birds, I saw, with increasing
-astonishment, that they, too, were attached to the nest in the same
-way, and were thus secured from falling out.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 32.--Long-tailed Monkeys.]
-
-Apart from the birds, which continually attract the naturalist’s
-attention by their omnipresence, beauty, vivacity and nimbleness, as
-well as by their songs, or rather cries; apart also from the very
-numerous lizards and snakes, or the abundant insects, even a careful
-observer can see very little of the other denizens of the primeval
-forest, and especially little of its mammals. But one can hardly
-fail to see a band of long-tailed monkeys, for the liveliness and
-restlessness characteristic of these and of all the African monkeys is
-sure to bring them sooner or later before the most unobservant eye, and
-their continual gurgling noises must reach the ear; yet one may pass
-within a few yards of most of the other mammals without having any idea
-that they are near. The great majority of the mammals inhabiting the
-primeval forest become active only after sundown, and return to their
-lairs before daybreak; but even those which are active and busy in full
-sunlight in the morning and evening are by no means so easily seen as
-might be imagined, for the thickness of the forest stands them in good
-stead. A European with whom I hunted in the primeval forest said to
-me: “Did you see that leopard that bounded from me towards you a few
-minutes ago? I could not shoot for I had not my gun in order; but you
-must have seen him.” He was wrong; I had not seen the great beast, so
-dense was the undergrowth in the forest. Where it is less dense another
-fact has its importance: the colour-resemblance between the mammals and
-their surroundings. The grayish lemur, which sits or sleeps huddled
-up high up on a branch spun over with lichens, resembles a knob or
-protuberance so clearly and convincingly that its form is only made
-out when the sportsman, taught by former experience, uses his glass
-and observes it keenly; the bat, which hangs high up in the crown of
-another tree, also looks like an outgrowth or a withered leaf; even the
-spotted skin of the leopard may be a faithful mimicry of the dry leaves
-and flowering euphorbias, and I myself once had to advance with cocked
-rifle to within fifteen paces of a bush in which a leopard had taken
-shelter before I could distinguish the animal from his surroundings.
-The same holds true of the forest antelopes, and indeed of all the
-mammals, and they know that this is so.[54] Not everywhere, but here
-and there throughout the forest, and then always abundantly, there
-lives a little antelope, the bush or Salt’s antelope. It is one of
-the most charming of all ruminants, most gracefully built, not bigger
-than a fawn a few days old, and of a foxy, gray-blue colour. It lives
-with a mate in the thickest undergrowth of the forest, choosing for
-its lair or habitual resting-place a bush which is branched and leafy
-to the ground, and thence treading out narrow paths in all directions
-through the thicket. I have often shot the animal; but at first it
-escaped me as it escapes all the travellers and sportsmen who make
-its acquaintance. I could never see it except when, if startled, it
-flew past me like an arrow. “Look, sir, there, in front of you in the
-nearest bush is a little antelope; it is down there in the gap between
-the two thickly-leaved branches,” whispered my native guide in my ear.
-I strained every nerve, penetrated every part of the bush with my gaze,
-and saw nothing but branches and leaves, for the graceful legs had
-become twigs, the head and body a leafy bough. But the sportsman’s eye
-becomes accustomed in time even to the primeval forest. When one has
-become familiar with the dainty creature’s habits, one learns to find
-it as well as the sharp-sighted natives do. Its acute hearing warns
-it of the approach of a man long before he can see any trace of its
-presence. Scared by the rustle of heavy human footsteps it starts up
-from its lair, takes a few steps forwards, and steps into some gap from
-which to see what happens. Like a bronze statue it stands stiff and
-motionless, without even moving an ear or turning an eye, but looking
-and listening; the leg which was raised to step onwards remains in that
-position, not a sign betrays life. Now is the time for the sportsman to
-raise his gun quickly, take aim and shoot; a moment later the cunning
-antelope has gained the cover of a neighbouring bush at a single bound,
-or has bent slowly down and crept away so quietly that scarcely a leaf
-stirs, scarcely a blade of grass moves.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 33.--Salt’s Antelope (_Antilope Saltiana_).]
-
-The primeval forest thus presents a succession of varied pictures
-to the traveller’s eye. If one has learnt to see, and attempts to
-understand, one finds more in every part of the forest at every season
-than one can master. But one does not see the same things at every
-spot, and at every season. Here, where spring lasts only a few weeks,
-and summer and autumn are counted by days, the long reign of winter
-sets in directly after the rainy season, just as in the steppe, and the
-full, rich, overflowing life of animals and plants is crowded into a
-very short time. As soon as the birds have finished brooding they begin
-to migrate; as soon as the mammals have exhausted the food-supply in
-one part of the forest they betake themselves to another. Consequently
-one meets different animals in the same spot at different times,
-or at least one sees different aspects of animal life. The river,
-for instance, becomes animated in proportion as the forest becomes
-depopulated.
-
-While the river is high, one does not see much of the animals which
-live in and about the water. All the islands are deeply buried under
-the water, the banks are likewise flooded, and the birds which usually
-inhabit them are crowded out for the time. And if a crocodile should
-raise his head and part of his scaly back above the water, he must be
-close to the boat if one sees him at all. Strictly speaking, there
-remain only the hippopotamuses, which are comparatively abundant in
-some parts, the birds flying about over the water, and perhaps a few
-diving-birds to prove that any higher vertebrates live in and about
-the river. But, when the rain has ceased, the river falls, and all
-the islands, sand-banks, and the river-banks themselves stand out
-once more. The scene is changed also as far as the animal world is
-concerned. The hippopotamuses retire to the deepest parts of the
-river, associating in troops sometimes of considerable strength, and
-making themselves very conspicuous as they come to the surface to
-breathe, each breath being inhaled with a snort which can be heard a
-long way off. During the day they land on islands or sand-banks to
-rest or stretch themselves in the sun, and they can then be seen from
-a distance of more than half a mile. The crocodiles eagerly enjoy a
-pleasure they had to forego while the river was high, that of sunning
-themselves for hours in the heat of the day. To this end they creep
-out about mid-day on a flat, sandy island, fall heavily with an
-audible plump on the sand, open their formidably-toothed jaws wide,
-and sleep till evening; there may be ten, twenty, or thirty of them
-on a single sand-bank. Now the sand-banks, both river-banks, and the
-shores of the larger islands are covered with flocks of birds whose
-numerical strength is most impressive. For, by this time of year most
-of the native shore-birds and swimming-birds have ended their brooding
-labours, and frequent the shores of the river with their young to
-enjoy, while they are moulting, the abundant and easily-procured food.
-About the same time, too, the migratory birds from the north arrive to
-pass the winter here. The last-named are also to be found in every part
-of the primeval forest, but are not nearly so much in evidence there
-as by the river, whose banks and islands are covered by the largest
-and most conspicuous species. It may even happen that the available
-space by the river is too small, the rich supply of food insufficient
-for the number of claimants. Thus every space is more than fully
-occupied, every promising hunting-ground is visited by thousands, every
-sleeping-place even is fought over. For three days I sailed, in an
-excellent boat and with a very good wind, up the White Nile, and during
-the whole long journey both banks were uninterruptedly covered with a
-gay and motley throng of littoral and aquatic birds. In the midst of
-the forests about the Blue Nile one can see a similar sight. Extensive
-sand-banks are completely covered by gray and demoiselle cranes,
-but they only serve these winter visitors as resting, sleeping, and
-moulting places, from whence they fly out every morning into the steppe
-in search of food, returning about mid-day to drink, bathe, dress
-their feathers, and to spend the night, though they are in continual
-danger from the crocodiles. Regularly about mid-day they are joined by
-several crowned cranes whose visit always causes lively excitement,
-for they are, if not better, at least more ardent dancers than the
-other cranes, and on their arrival they never fail to exhibit their
-skill, and thus to incite the others to rivalry. On the same sand-banks
-one may often see tantalus-ibises, magnificent stork-like birds, with
-rosy-white plumage and brilliant rose-red wings, which take possession
-of the extreme edge of the island or the neighbouring damp places. In a
-good light they literally glow, and they are at all times beautiful,
-contrasting wonderfully with the light gray cranes, and decorating
-the whole neighbourhood. Splendid giant or saddle-billed storks step
-proudly along the shores; ugly, but curiously-formed marabous walk up
-and down with an air of dignity; glittering, open-bill storks stand in
-large companies; giant and great white herons wade about in search of
-fish; and everywhere standing and lying, swimming and diving, grazing
-and grubbing, cackling and chattering are thousands of Spur-winged,
-Egyptian, and other geese, widow and pintail ducks, African darters,
-ibises, curlews, sandpipers, dunlins, redshanks, and many more, a
-motley throng which decorates the stream even more than the tantalus
-ibises. But, in addition to all those mentioned, some of whom are
-constantly coming and going, there fly terns and gulls, sand-martins
-and bee-eaters, while splendid sea-eagles wheel in circles high up in
-the air.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 34.--Crocodile and Crocodile-birds (_Pluxianus
-ægyptius_).]
-
-There are some members of this bird-fauna, so rich in every respect,
-who have to wait till the water is at its lowest before they can begin
-to brood, for, when the river is full, they are quite unable to find
-such nesting-places as they desire. Among these is a running bird,
-prettily and gaily coloured, clever and vivacious by nature, which was
-well known to the ancients as the Crocodile-bird or the Trochilus of
-Herodotus. Of it the old historian relates, as Pliny repeats on his
-authority, that it lives in true friendship with the crocodile. And
-this old story is no fable, as one might be inclined to suppose, but
-is based on solid facts, which I have myself been able to verify.[55]
-The crocodile-bird, whose image is so often represented on the ancient
-Egyptian monuments, and stands for U in the hieroglyphic alphabet,
-occurs in Egypt and Nubia, but nowadays it seems to be only in the
-Soudan that it discharges, on the crocodile’s behalf, those sentinel
-duties for which it was famous among the ancient peoples. But the
-service it renders is not to the crocodile alone, but to all other
-creatures who are willing to take advantage of its watchfulness.
-Observant, inquisitive, excitable, clamorous, and gifted with a
-far-reaching voice, it is well fitted to serve as watchman to all less
-careful creatures. No approach, whether of beast of prey or of man,
-escapes its suspicious observation; every sailing-boat or rowing-boat
-on the river attracts its attention; and it never fails to tell of
-its discovery in loud cries. Thus it brings under the notice of all
-the other creatures who share its home or resting-place the unusual
-occurrence, enabling them either to find out for themselves if there
-is really any danger, or to make good their escape on the strength of
-its warning. Thus it discharges the duties of a sentinel. Its friendly
-relations with the crocodile can hardly be called mutual, for to credit
-the crocodile with friendship is going rather far. Certainly the
-reptile treats the bird as a harmless creature, but this is not out of
-any benevolence, but simply because he has a thorough knowledge and
-a correct estimate of his partner. And as to the bird, it is at home
-on the sand-banks where the crocodile is wont to rest, and has been
-from its youth accustomed to the monster; it busies itself about him
-and associates itself with him, as if he were the master and itself
-the servant. Without hesitation it hops on his back as he rests;
-without apprehension it approaches his gaping jaws to see if there be
-perchance a leech sucking his lips, or if there be some morsel of food
-sticking between his teeth; and without misgiving it darts off with
-either. All this the crocodile quietly allows, for doubtless he has
-learned by experience that he cannot get at the ever watchful, agile,
-and clever little rogue. I once saw a crocodile-bird having a meal
-along with a screaming sea-eagle off a fish, which the latter had
-caught and borne to a sand-bank. While the eagle, which held its booty
-firmly in its talons or stood upon it, was breaking off pieces of the
-flesh, the parasite at the lordly bird’s table kept at a respectful
-distance; but as soon as the eagle raised its head to swallow, the
-crocodile-bird ran forward, seized one of the prepared fragments, and
-was off again to his old position, there to enjoy his stolen goods.
-Not less astonishing than this self-possessed audacity is the way in
-which the crocodile-bird hides its eggs from prying eyes. For long I
-searched in vain for the nest. When the brooding period set in was
-readily enough discovered by dissecting a specimen which I killed; and
-that the bird must nest on the sand-bank I was already convinced from
-my observation of its mode of life. But it was in vain that I searched
-their favourite spots; not a hint of a nest could I find. At last I
-observed a pair, one sitting on the ground, the other busying itself
-round about; I brought my field-glass to bear upon the sitting bird and
-made straight for it. As I came near it rose, hastily scraped some sand
-together, and flew off, uttering its usual cry, but without any other
-signs of excitement. I was not diverted from my purpose, but advanced
-carefully, keeping the exact spot always in view. But even when I
-reached the place I could see no nest, and it was not till I noticed a
-slight unevenness in the sand, and dug carefully with my fingers, that
-I found what I sought, two eggs most deceptively like the sand in their
-colour and markings. Had the mother-bird been allowed more time than I
-gave her, it is not likely that I should ever have noticed the slight
-unevenness in the sand.
-
-Even richer, if that be possible, than the fauna of the river, and at
-any rate more diverse, is that to be found at the proper season on
-the shores and surface of all the lakes and larger water-pools which
-lie within the forest and are filled either by the spring rains or
-by the full floods of the river. Surrounded by the forest, and not
-unfrequently so thickly hedged round that one cannot reach them without
-great difficulty, and more immediately fringed by a scarcely less rich
-vegetation of canes and reed-thickets, where the papyrus and the lotos
-still flourish, these rain-lakes, or _Fulat_ as the natives call them,
-afford most excellent resting-stations and breeding-places for the most
-diverse kinds of beasts and birds.
-
-Their safe seclusion pleases even the hippopotamus so well that it
-seeks them out as fit places where to bring forth and suckle, tend and
-rear its young, safe from dangerous intruders, and without trouble as
-to food, which the water supplies in abundance. Wild hogs and buffaloes
-are also attracted to the luxuriant fringe of vegetation and to the
-creeks which gradually pass into swamp and bog. To all the thirsty race
-of antelopes the quiet pools afford welcome supplies. On the surface
-thousands of pelicans gather in the evenings, and fish greedily before
-they go to roost on the tall trees near by; all day long the darters
-dive; many ducks and geese swim about, both native species and those
-which have come from the north to these comfortable winter-quarters;
-in the creeks and shallows the giant-herons and the beautiful little
-bush-herons secure rich booty at small cost of exertion; countless
-hosts of little birds are sheltered among the green, sappy herbage of
-the shore, and many other shore-and water-birds find resting-places and
-build their nests on the overtowering trees of the forest.
-
-It is no wonder, then, that these lakes should periodically swarm with
-birds; and it is likewise plain that such great wealth of booty must
-also attract all sorts of enemies. The smaller birds are followed by
-the falcons and owls, the larger birds by the eagle and horned owl, the
-mammals by the fox and jackal, the leopard and the lion. Sometimes,
-too, an army of voracious locusts coming in from the steppe falls upon
-the fresh green girdle around such a lake and ravages it in a few
-days, devouring all the leaves. Or one should rather say threatening
-to devour, for at such a time the assemblage of birds becomes even
-larger than before. From far and near they come flocking--falcons
-and owls, ravens and rollers, francolins and guinea-fowl, storks and
-ibises, coots and ducks. Every bird that ever eats insects now confines
-itself exclusively to the pertinacious visitors. Hundreds of kestrels
-and lesser kestrels, which are then in these winter-quarters, sweep
-over the invaded forest, and swoop down upon the locusts, seizing
-and devouring them, with scarce an interruption in their flight.
-Ravens, rollers, hornbills, ibises, and storks pick them off the
-branches of the trees and shake down hundreds which fall victims to
-the guinea-fowl, ducks, and other birds waiting underneath. Harriers
-and chanting hawks circle around the trees on which the “defoliating”
-insects soon take the place of the leaves that were. Even the sedate
-marabous and saddle-billed storks do not disdain to avail themselves
-of booty whose abundance compensates for the paltry size of the
-individual victims. All this bustle greatly enhances the liveliness of
-a scene which is at no time dull, and makes the lake more than ever a
-rendezvous of the most diverse forms of life.
-
-At one of these rain-lakes--very treasure-house of the forest’s
-riches--we spent several days, hunting, observing, and collecting,
-almost wild with delight in, and admiration of the splendid flora and
-fauna. We amused ourselves with hunting hippopotamus, and executed
-justice on the crocodile; we enjoyed to the full the pleasures of
-exploration and of the chase, forgetful of everything else, even of
-the time we spent. But when the sun went down and tinged with gold the
-varied greens of the forest; when the chattering of the parrots was
-hushed and only the ecstatic song of a thrush floated down to us; when,
-over there on the opposite bank, the sea-eagle, which a moment ago
-had seemed like some wonderful blossom on the top of his green perch,
-drowsily drew his white head between his shoulders; when silence fell
-even on the guttural gossip of a band of long-tailed monkeys, who had
-gone to rest on the nearest lofty mimosa; when the night came on with
-its clear pleasant twilight, cool and mild, melodious and fragrant,
-as it always is at this season: then would all the wealth of colour,
-all the splendour and glamour of to-day’s and yesterday’s pictures
-fade away. Our thoughts flew homewards, and irresistible home-sickness
-filled our hearts, for in the Fatherland they were celebrating
-Christmas. We had prepared our punch and filled our pipes with the most
-precious of tobaccos; our Albanian companion sang his soft melancholy
-song; the beauty of the night soothed our hearts and senses; but the
-glasses remained unemptied, “the clouds of smoke did not bear the
-clouds of melancholy with them”; the songs awoke no responsive echo,
-and the night brought no solace. But it _must_ bring us a Christmas
-gift, and it did!
-
-Night in the primeval forest is always grand: the sky above may be
-illumined with flaming lightning, the thunder may roll, and the
-wind may rage through the trees; or it may be that the dark starless
-heaven is relieved only by the slender rays of far-distant suns,
-while no leaf or blade of grass is stirred. A few minutes after
-sunset, night descends upon the forest. What was clearly seen by day
-is now veiled by darkness, what was seen in its true proportions in
-the sunlight now becomes gigantic. Familiar trees become phantasms,
-the hedge-like bushes thicken to dark walls. The noise of a thousand
-voices is stilled, and for a few minutes a deep silence prevails. Then
-life begins to stir again, the river and the forest are again alive.
-Hundreds of cicadas raise their chirping, like the jingle of many
-badly-tuned little bells heard from a distance; thousands of restless
-beetles, some very large, whirr about the flowering trees with a deep
-humming, fit accompaniment to the cicadas’ chirping. Frogs add their
-single note, surprisingly loud for their size, and their voices ring
-through the forest, like the sound of a slowly-beaten Chinese gong. A
-great owl greets the night with its dull hooting; a little screech-owl
-responds with shrill laughter; a goat-sucker spins off the single
-strophe of his rattling song. From the river come the plaintive cries
-of a nocturnal member of the gull family, the skimmer or shearwater,
-which begins to plough the waves, skimming along the surface of the
-water; from the islands and banks sound the somewhat screeching cries
-of the thickknee or stone-curlew, and the rich, melodious, song-like
-trills of the redshank or the plover; among the reeds and sedges of a
-neighbouring pool croaks a night-heron. Hundreds of glowworms sparkle
-among the bushes and the tree-tops; a gigantic crocodile, which had
-left its sand-bank before sundown to bathe its heated coat of mail in
-the tepid water, is swimming half beneath and half above the surface
-of the water, and making long streaks of silver which shine in the
-moonlight, or at least glitter in the flickering light of the stars.
-Above the tallest trees float noiseless companies of horned and other
-owls; long-tailed night-jars fly with graceful curves along the river
-bank; bats describe their tortuous course among the trees; fox-bats
-and fruit-eating bats cross from bank to bank, sometimes in flocks.
-This is the time of activity among the other mammals too. A jackal
-utters its varied call, now plaintive, now merry, and continues
-with equal expressiveness and persistence; a dozen others join in at
-once, and strive in eager rivalry for the victor’s crown; some hyænas
-who seem just to have been waiting for these unrivalled leaders to
-begin, join the chorus. They howl and laugh, moan piteously, and shout
-triumphantly; a panther grunts, a lion roars; even a hippopotamus in
-the river lifts up his paltry voice and grunts.
-
-Thus does night reveal itself in the primeval forest; thus did it claim
-ear and eye on that never-to-be-forgotten day. Beetles and cicadas,
-owls and goat-suckers had begun: then a loud, rumbling noise, as of
-trumpets blown by unskilful mouths, resounded through the forest. At
-once the songs of our Albanian, and the chattering of our servants
-and sailors were hushed; all listened as we did. Once more came
-the trumpeting and rumbling from the opposite bank. “_El fiuhl, el
-fiuhl!_” called the natives; “Elephants, elephants!” we, too, exclaimed
-triumphantly. It was the first time that we had seen and heard the
-giant pachyderms, though we had constantly trodden their paths and
-followed their traces. From the opposite bank the great forms, which
-could be plainly enough seen in the twilight, descended leisurely and
-confidently to the water, to drink and bathe. One after another dipped
-his supple trunk in the water, to fill it, and discharge it into his
-wide mouth, or over his back and shoulders; one after another descended
-into the river to refresh himself in the cooling flood. Then the
-noises became so great that it seemed as if the elephants’ trumpeting
-had acted as an awakening call. Earlier than ever before, the king of
-the wilderness raised his thundering voice; a second and a third lion
-responded to the kingly greeting. The sleep-drunken monkeys and the
-timid antelopes cried out in terror. A hippopotamus reared his uncouth
-head quite close to our boat, and growled as if he would emulate the
-lion’s roar; a leopard also made himself heard; jackals gave vent
-to the most varied song we had ever heard from them, the striped
-hyænas howled, the spotted ones uttered their hellish, blood-curdling
-laughter, and, careless of the uproar which the heralds and the king
-of the forest had conjured up, the frogs continued to utter their
-monotonous call, and the cicadas their bell-like chirping.
-
-Thus was the “Hosanna in the Highest” sung in our ears by the primeval
-forest.
-
-
-
-
-THE MIGRATIONS OF MAMMALS.
-
-
-The love of travel, as we understand it, is not found among animals,
-not even among the birds, whose sublime powers of flight over land and
-sea so much excite our envy. For no animals wander, careless and free,
-like the travellers who go forth to study the manners and customs of
-other lands; they cling to the soil even more closely than we do, and
-they are bound to the place of their birth, by habit or indolence, more
-closely than we are by our love of home. When it does happen that they
-forsake their birthplace, it is in obedience to stern necessity,--to
-escape impending starvation. But want and misery are too often their
-lot in the joyless lands to which they migrate, and so they experience
-little but the pain and toil of travel.
-
-This holds true of wandering fishes and of migrating birds, but more
-particularly of those mammals which undertake periodic migrations. Few
-of them do this with the same regularity, but all do it for the same
-reasons, as fishes and birds. They migrate to escape from scarcity of
-food, already felt or at least threatening, and their journeying is
-therefore rather a flight from destruction than a striving to reach
-happier fields.
-
-By the migrations of mammals I mean neither the excursions which result
-in an extension of their range of distribution, nor the ordinary
-expeditions in search of food, but those journeys which lead certain
-mammals, at regular or irregular intervals, far beyond the boundaries
-of their home, into countries where they are compelled to adopt a mode
-of life which is foreign to them, and which they will abandon as soon
-as it is possible, or seems possible to do so. Such journeys correspond
-closely to the regular migrations of fishes and birds, and a knowledge
-of the former helps us to an understanding of the latter.
-
-Excursions beyond their actual place of sojourn are made by all
-mammals for various reasons. Males, particularly old males, are
-more inclined to roam about than the females and the young of their
-species, and forsake one district for another without apparent reason;
-the younger males among gregarious species are often driven out and
-forced to wander by the old leaders of the herd; mothers with their
-young are fond of rambling about the neighbourhood where the latter
-were born; and the two sexes wander about in search of one another.
-During such expeditions the animal chances to light on what seems to
-him a promising dwelling-place, a district rich in food, a sheltering
-thicket, or a safe hiding-hole. He stays there for some time, and,
-finally, it may be, settles down in this new Canaan. Experienced
-sportsmen know that a preserve in which all the game has been shot
-will sooner or later receive reinforcements from without, and, under
-favourable circumstances, will be peopled anew; and all must have
-noticed that a fox or badger burrow is not easily destroyed, for it
-finds new occupants again and again, however ruthless the persecution
-to which they may be subjected. As it is with game, whose coming and
-going, appearing and disappearing are noted by thousands, so is it with
-other mammals which are less eagerly watched. A constant emigration
-and immigration cannot be denied. In consequence of this, the range
-of distribution of any species is constantly being extended, unless
-hindered by physical conditions, or by human and other enemies.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 35.--A Wild Duck defending her Brood from a Brown
-Rat.]
-
-Till the end of the first half of last century our forefathers
-shared their dwellings with the black rat, and knew the brown rat
-only by hearsay, if at all. The first was a rat with many, but not
-all the vices of its race. It lived in our houses, ate grain, fat,
-and all kinds of provisions, gnawed doors, boards, and furniture,
-racketed at night like a noisy ghost through old castles and other
-spook-favouring buildings, caused much annoyance, many a fright,
-strengthened superstition and the fear of ghosts in many a mind; but
-it was possible to live with it, one could manage to get along. A
-capable cat held it in check; a skilful rat-catcher was more than a
-match for it. Then its most terrible enemy appeared, and its star began
-to wane. In 1727, swarms of brown rats, which seem to have come from
-India, either directly or by way of Persia, were seen to swim the
-Volga, and we soon learned what awaited Europe. Following canals and
-rivers, the brown rats reached villages and towns, entered, in spite
-of men and cats, the lower stories of our dwellings, filled vaults and
-cellars, ascended gradually to the garrets, ousted its relative after
-long and inexorable warfare, made itself master in our own houses, and
-showed us in a thousand ways what a rat could do. It possessed and
-exercised _all_ the vices of its family, mocked at all our attempts to
-drive it away, and remained in possession of the field, which, up till
-now, we have tried to wrest from it with dogs and cats, by traps and
-snares, poison and shooting. Almost at the same time as it swam over
-the Volga, it reached Europe by another route, coming from the East
-Indies to England on board ship. Then began its world-wanderings. In
-East Prussia it appeared as early as 1750, in Paris three years later,
-Central Germany was conquered in 1780, and here, as everywhere else,
-the towns were first colonized, and the flat country round taken in
-by degrees. Villages not easily reached, that is to say, not lying on
-river-banks, were only invaded in the last decade of this century: in
-my boyhood it was still unknown in my native village, and the black
-rat, now being crowded out even there, held undisputed possession of
-many places where its rival now reigns supreme. Many isolated farms
-were only reached later, about the middle of the present century, but
-the victorious march still goes on. Not content with having discovered
-and conquered Europe, towards the end of last century the brown rat
-set out on new journeys. In the sea-ports already colonized, the rats
-swam out to the ships, climbed on board by the anchor chains, cables,
-or any other available ladders, took possession of the dark, protecting
-hold, crossed all seas, landed on all coasts, and peopled every country
-and island, where its chosen protector and compulsory host--civilized
-man--has founded homesteads. Against our will we have helped it, or at
-any rate made it possible for it, to carry out a greater extension of
-range than has been attained by any other mammal not in subjection to
-man.[56]
-
-Another remarkable illustration of wandering is afforded by the
-souslik, a destructive rodent about the size of a hamster, belonging
-to the family of squirrels and sub-family of marmots. Eastern Europe
-and Western Siberia are its head-quarters. Albertus Magnus observed
-it in the neighbourhood of Ratisbon, where it is now no longer found,
-though it has recently appeared in Silesia. Forty or fifty years ago it
-was unknown here, but, at the end of the forties or beginning of the
-fifties, it appeared no one could tell whence, and from that time it
-has pressed slowly westward. Its migrations, too, have been helped by
-man, for, though it is not confined to cultivated fields, these afford
-the habitat most suited to its taste.
-
-The same holds true of many species of mice, which extend their
-territories as the soil is cultivated. On the other hand, man narrows
-the possible range of many mammals by deforesting, by draining
-marshes, and by otherwise changing the character of whole tracts of
-country. In this way, far more than by direct persecution, he does
-much to influence the migration of the mammals which have established
-themselves in these areas. For the fundamental law holds good for
-mammals as for other creatures, that suitable districts, and these
-only, will be colonized sooner or later, notwithstanding the arbitrary
-and usually rough and cruel interference of man.
-
-Quite different from such wanderings are the expeditions made
-by mammals to secure a temporary betterment. These are probably
-undertaken, if not by all species, at least by representatives of
-every family in the class; they vary in duration and distance, and
-may even have the character of true migrations, but they always come
-to an end after a certain time, and the wanderer ultimately returns
-to his original place of abode. The intention or hope of reaching
-better grazing or hunting grounds, the desire to profit by some casual
-opportunity for making life more comfortable, may be said to be the
-chief motive of such expeditions. They take place all the year round,
-in every latitude and longitude, even in districts where the conditions
-of life do not vary materially at different times. The mammal begins
-and ends them either alone or in bands, companies or herds, according
-as it is wont to live with its fellows; it follows the same routes with
-more or less regularity, and appears at certain places at approximately
-the same time, yet it is always guided by chance circumstances.
-
-When the fruits of the sacred fig and other trees surrounding the
-temples of the Hindoos are beginning to ripen, the Brahmins who tend
-temple and trees await with unctuous devotion the arrival of their
-four-footed gods. And not in vain, for the two divinities, Hulman and
-Bunder, two species of monkey, unfailingly appear to strip the luscious
-fruits from the trees piously planted and tended for their benefit,
-and also to rob and plunder in the neighbouring fields and gardens as
-long as it is worth while. Then they disappear again, to the sorrow
-of their worshippers and the joy of the other inhabitants of India,
-whose possessions they have ravaged, as they gathered in their spoils
-in their usual ruthless fashion. In Central Africa, when the chief
-cereal of that country, the dhurra or Kaffir-millet, comes to maturity,
-a dignified and inventive baboon, tried and experienced in all the
-critical situations of life, leads down the flock of which, as leader,
-he is justifiably proud, to see whether Cousin Man has been good
-enough to sow the nutritive grain for him this year also. Or, about
-the same time, a band of long-tailed monkeys, under not less excellent
-leadership, approaches the edge of the forest in order not to miss the
-right moment for a profitable, and, as far as possible, undisturbed
-ravaging of the fields. When the golden orange glows among the dark
-foliage in South American plantations, the capuchin monkeys make their
-appearance, often from a great distance, to share the fruit with
-the owner. Other plant-eaters too are led by the hope of gaining an
-easier livelihood into regions and districts which they usually avoid;
-insectivores periodically follow the insects when they are for the time
-abundant at this place or that, and large beasts of prey keep in the
-wake of herbivorous mammals, especially of the herds belonging to man.
-The lion journeys from place to place, following the wandering herdsmen
-on the steppes of Africa; Russian wolves followed close on the retreat
-of Napoleon’s defeated army, pursuing the unfortunate fugitives as far
-as the middle of Germany. Otters undertake land journeys to get from
-one river-basin to another; lynxes and wolves in winter often traverse
-very wide stretches of country. Such journeys bring about a change of
-residence, but they do not constitute a migration in the true sense
-of the word. It is only exceptionally, too, that they are undertaken
-from real necessity, which we must look upon as the cause of all true
-migrations; in most cases they are undertaken simply to gratify a
-passing desire.
-
-Quite otherwise is it with those mammals which, every year about the
-same time, leave their habitat for some other region often far distant,
-from which at a definite time they will return to their former abode.
-These migrate; for they do not seize a chance opportunity, but obey,
-consciously or unconsciously, a compelling necessity.
-
-The fundamental cause of all true migration among mammals, is some
-very distinct and decided seasonal change. In countries of everlasting
-spring true migrations do not take place, for want is never imminent.
-Summer must contrast with winter, whether the latter bring frost and
-snow, or heat and drought; scarcity must alternate with superfluity
-before the sluggish mammal makes up its mind to migrate.
-
-To a slight extent migrations take place among all mountain animals.
-The chamois, the steinbock, the Alpine hare, the marmot all migrate
-when the snow begins to melt, or a little later; they clamber over
-hillsides and glaciers to the heights above, where the pasturage, now
-laid bare, promises rich and abundant nourishment, and they return to
-the lower slopes of the mountain before winter sets in. The bear, by
-nature omnivorous, by habit a thief, undertakes a similar migration at
-the same season, and completes it before winter sets in,--at least so
-it is in the mountains of Siberia; the various wild cats and dogs which
-live among the mountains do the same. Such changes of residence occur
-also on the mountains of southern countries, even of those lying within
-the tropics. In India and Africa certain species of monkey ascend and
-descend the mountains at regular intervals; elephants seek the high
-grounds on the approach of summer, the low grounds in winter; on the
-Andes in South America the guanacos flee before the snow into the
-valleys, and before the summer-heat to the shoulders of the mountains.
-All these migrations are confined by the mountains within comparatively
-narrow limits. They only involve a change of altitude of from three
-to nine thousand feet, or a journey which may be accomplished in
-a few hours, or, at most, in a few days. They have, however, the
-regularity characteristic of true migrations, especially in the precise
-periodicity of their occurrence, and not less in the constant choice of
-the same routes.
-
-Highlands and plain, sea and air, offer a much wider field than the
-mountains, and therefore the migrations of the animals inhabiting, or
-temporarily traversing these can be more easily observed, and they are
-more appropriately termed migratory animals than the dwellers among
-the mountains. In the tundras of Russia and Siberia, the reindeer,
-which, in Scandinavia, never leaves the mountains, migrates to a great
-distance every autumn and returns the following spring to his former
-summer haunts.[57] About the same time it leaves Greenland, and,
-crossing the sea on a bridge of ice, reaches the continent of America,
-where it spends the whole winter, only returning to the hills of its
-native peninsula the following April. In both cases, dread of the
-approaching winter does not seem to be the sole cause of migration;
-there is at the same time a further incentive supplied by a plague
-much feared in the far north. For the short summer on these expanses
-calls to life an insect-world poor in species, but endlessly rich in
-individuals, particularly an indescribable number of mosquitoes and
-bot-flies, which make life a burden to the reindeer, as well as to man.
-To escape these the reindeer forsakes the marshy tundra, over which
-dense clouds of mosquitoes hover during summer, and hies to where the
-scourge is less severely felt--to the Alpine heights, which, in the
-summer season afford their most fragrant pasturage. From inherited
-habit, the reindeer migrate not only at the same time, but along
-the same paths, thus forming tracks which may be distinctly traced,
-traversing the tundra for many miles, and crossing streams and rivers
-at definite places. At the beginning of the journey, the cows with
-their calves arrange themselves in herds of from ten to a hundred, and
-precede the young stags and hinds, which are followed again by the old
-stags. One troop follows directly behind another, and the observer can
-count thousands as they pass. All hurry incessantly on, turning aside
-neither for the mountains nor the broad streams which cross their path,
-and resting only when they have reached their winter-quarters. Packs
-of wolves, bears, and gluttons follow close on their heels and often
-pursue them no small part of the way. In spring, on the return journey,
-the animals keep to the same order, but the herds are much smaller, and
-they travel in a much more leisurely fashion, and keep less strictly to
-the paths by which they went.
-
-Journeys still longer than those of the reindeer are taken by the
-American bison, the “buffalo” of the prairies.[58] What distance
-individual animals travel cannot be stated with certainty, but herds
-in course of migrating have been met from Canada to Mexico, from
-the Missouri to the Rocky Mountains, and it may be assumed that
-a single herd traverses a considerable part of the country lying
-between these limits. The bisons have been seen in summer scattered
-over the boundless prairie, and in winter in the same places, but
-assembled in many thousands; their migrations have been observed, for
-they have been followed for hundreds of miles along the tracks--the
-so-called “buffalo-paths”, trodden out straight across plains and over
-mountains. We learn from eye-witnesses that a stream a mile wide is to
-them no barrier, scarcely even a hindrance, for they throw themselves
-into it like an irresistible avalanche, so that the water is covered
-with the dark, moving throng; that the animals associate and separate
-again, the herds increase and diminish; that old, surly, tyrannous,
-malevolent bulls avoid the other bisons, having perhaps been expelled
-from the herd, and compelled, probably only after protracted struggles,
-to live in hermit-fashion until the following summer; and that, during
-heavy snowfalls, the herds take shelter in the forests or on the
-slopes of the mountains. From July onwards they begin their migrations
-from the north towards the south. Small companies, which, till then,
-have been leading a comfortable summer life, combine with others and
-set out on the journey with them; other troops join the band, which
-grows as it presses on, until there is, at length, formed one of those
-extraordinary herds which, united till the next spring, moves and acts
-as if animated by one soul. When the winter is safely past, the army
-gradually breaks up, probably in exactly reverse order, into herds,
-and these divide more and more until at length only small companies
-are left. This breaking-up takes place during the course of the return
-journey. Both in going and returning, one herd follows another at some
-distance, but more or less along the same paths. Specially favourable
-places, such as low grounds covered with rich grass, cause a temporary
-damming up of the living stream. In such places incalculable herds
-assemble together, spend days in the same spot, and break up only again
-when all the grass has been eaten, and hunger urges them to continue
-their journey. As they march the wolves and bears follow their track,
-while eagles and vultures, birds of ill omen, circle over their heads.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 36.--A Herd of American Bison or Buffalo.]
-
-Scarcity of water, as well as of food, is often a cause of regular
-migrations. When winter approaches in the south-east of Siberia, more
-particularly in the high Gobi steppe, all the non-hibernating mammals
-are compelled, by the peculiar circumstances of these highlands, to
-seek refuge in lower-lying regions. The winter in these high grounds
-of Central Asia is not more severe than in districts lying further to
-the north or north-east, but it is usually almost snowless, and such
-pools of water as have been formed by the extremely slight fall of rain
-or snow, are covered with a thick sheet of ice. As soon as this sheet
-becomes so strong that the animals inhabiting the Gobi are unable to
-break it, they are obliged to change their quarters, and they travel
-not only to southern but to northern lands, whose only advantage is
-that they are covered with snow, for this affords ready refreshment to
-the parched tongues of the wanderers, and offers less resistance to
-their weak feet than the hard, unbreakable, and less easily melted ice.
-This is the explanation of the fact that the antelope, of which great
-numbers are found in the Gobi, forsakes a land which, save for the
-lack of snow and therefore of available water, is exactly the same as
-that which it chooses for its winter quarters. Not hunger, but thirst,
-drives it from its home. At the beginning of winter, the antelopes, at
-all times gregarious, assemble in herds of many thousands, spreading
-over all the low grounds around their native plateau; they often travel
-at the rate of fifty or sixty miles in a single night, and extend
-their wanderings many hundreds of miles beyond the boundaries of their
-proper habitat. The observer who follows them can detect their tracks
-everywhere, and in such numbers that it seems as though vast herds of
-sheep, far exceeding in number any ordinary flock, had just passed by.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 37.--Wild Horses crossing a River during a Storm.]
-
-Before the Chinese antelope begins its migration, restlessness seizes
-the kulan or dziggetai, probably the ancestor of our horse, and
-certainly the most beautiful and the proudest of all wild horses. The
-foals of the summer are by autumn strong enough to be able to endure
-a long journey with quick marches, and to bid defiance to all the
-accidents and dangers of a wandering life. The young stallions attain
-their full strength at the end of their fourth year, and towards the
-end of September they leave the parent-herd and press forward. Finally,
-the impulse to mate begins to animate the older stallions and mares,
-and with it comes unrest and the desire to wander. Thus the fleet,
-enterprising animals begin their annual migration long before winter
-has set in, before even its approach has become at all apparent; and on
-this account their migrations at first lack steadiness and regularity,
-and have something of the character of journeys in search of
-adventure. With the intention of shaking off the burdensome yoke of the
-leader and absolute lord of the herd, and of becoming independent and
-in their turn equally despotic, the young stallions forsake the herd,
-and thenceforward traverse the sandy steppes singly. All the younger
-mares who are mature, and even many of the older ones, seem to be
-animated by the same feeling as the young stallions, and they attempt
-to escape from the rule of their tyrant and join his young rival, to
-fall immediately under his dominion. But not without a struggle does
-the new candidate for leadership gain his troop of mares; the old
-leader does not readily relinquish his rights. For hours together the
-stallion stands on the top of a hill or on the shoulder of a ridge,
-keenly scanning the country around. His eye wanders over the desert,
-his dilated nostrils are turned towards the wind, his ears are directed
-forwards on the alert. Eager for battle, he rushes at full gallop
-towards every herd which approaches, every adversary who shows himself;
-and a furious struggle takes place for the possession of the mares,
-who always attach themselves to the victor. Such combats and strife
-set the herd in motion, detach it from the place where the summer has
-been spent, and lead on to migrations which become gradually regular,
-prolonged, persistent, and almost uninterrupted. In the course of
-these, if not before the end of the combats just described, the kulan
-troops assemble in ever-growing numbers, until at length herds of more
-than a thousand head set out together for fields which give promise of
-pasturage. They do not break up while in their winter quarters, and
-they are thus compelled to be continually on the move in order to find
-sufficient nourishment. The combined tread of the army, as they gallop
-on in their usual furious fashion, rings dully out, and more than once,
-in Russia, the sound has called the Cossacks of the military cordon to
-arms. No wolf ventures to attack such a herd, for the courageous wild
-horses know so well how to use their hoofs against him that he soon
-gives up any attempt; it is only the sick and exhausted horses which
-become his prey, as he follows the wandering herd. Even man can do them
-no great damage, for their caution and shyness render them difficult
-of approach. But winter, especially if much snow falls, brings them
-much suffering. The pasture, at all times scanty, is exhausted the more
-quickly the more numerous the herd which feeds on it. Then the animals
-devour indiscriminately all the vegetable substances they can find.
-For months together they have to maintain life on leafless shoots.
-Their bodies cease to be fat and plump, till at length they are like
-wandering skeletons. The mother, herself starving, is no longer able to
-nourish her foal, for the milk-yielding udder dries up in times of such
-need. Many a one whose tender youth is unable to endure the hard fare
-dies of starvation. Even the old horses suffer from the poverty and
-treachery of the winter. Snow-storms blowing over their feeding-ground
-for days at a time depress their usually cheerful courage, and increase
-the boldness of the wolves, which, even if they do not fall upon the
-already exhausted horses, persecute and annoy to the utmost those who
-are not yet worn out. But as soon as circumstances begin to improve,
-the wiry, weather-hardened, enduring creatures recover their high
-spirits, and, when the snow begins to melt, they set out on the return
-journey, reaching their summer home in about a month’s time. There they
-break up into single herds, recuperate among the luxuriantly sprouting,
-fragrant pasture, and, in a surprisingly short time, become fat and
-plump again. Soon the want and misery of the winter are forgotten.
-
-Great as are the distances often traversed by all the mammals already
-mentioned, they can scarcely be compared with those covered by seals
-and whales. The water favours all the movements of animals adapted to
-aquatic life, and offers everywhere the same general conditions of
-life and the same amenities. Thus it renders the migrations of its
-inhabitants easier, less toilsome and hazardous than those of any other
-wanderers. Nevertheless it is somewhat surprising to learn that many
-sea-mammals, and particularly the whales, are among the most nomadic
-of all creatures; in fact that many, if not most of them, pass their
-whole life in travelling. Strictly speaking, no whale has a permanent
-place of sojourn for the whole year, but passes singly, in pairs,
-with its young, or in more or less numerous companies--the so-called
-schools--from one part of the ocean to another, visiting certain
-favourite haunts in regular order, and choosing different haunts in
-summer and in winter. The seas inhabited by the same species of whale
-in winter and in summer often lie farther apart than people seem to
-suppose, for some whales travel, twice a year, more than a quarter of
-the earth’s circumference; they are to be found in summer among the
-ice-floes of the Arctic Ocean, and in winter on the other side of the
-Equator. The female whales, who are in the highest degree sociable,
-and attached to their young with the tenderest, most devoted love,
-assemble together in surprising numbers, and under the guidance of a
-few males, traverse the ocean by definite routes and at definite times,
-some keeping to the open sea, others making their way along the coasts.
-Storms may force them to change their route, or delay in the appearance
-of the animals on which they feed, whose occurrence and disappearance
-is obviously the chief cause of their migration, may to some extent
-influence their course and the time of their visiting certain spots;
-but, as a general rule, their migrations are so systematic that on
-northern and southern coasts people look for the arrival of the whale
-on a particular day, and place watches so that they may be able to
-begin the long-desired chase without loss of time. Whales, which are
-recognized by the dwellers on the coast by some mark, such as mutilated
-fins, and which have been several times pursued in vain, have been
-known to appear several years in succession at the same time and at
-the same place; and the chase after these most valuable and therefore
-increasingly persecuted animals takes place with the same regularity as
-do hare-hunts on land, though at any other time of the year it would
-be vain to look for them. “After Twelfth Day,” says old Pontoppidan,
-“the Norwegians watch from all the hills for the whale, whose arrival
-is announced by the herring.” First appears the killer, then, three
-or four days, or at the most a fortnight later, the rorqual, though,
-apparently, one comes from Davis Straits and the other from Greenland.
-On the south coasts of the Faroë Islands, and especially in the
-Qualbenfjord, from three to six bottle-nose whales still appear
-every year about Michaelmas, as they did a hundred and ninety years
-ago. In a Scottish bay there appeared twenty years in succession a
-rorqual, which was generally known by the name of “Hollie Pyke”, and
-was pursued every year and finally captured. On the coast of Iceland
-single whales choose the same bays for a temporary sojourn every year
-in the same months, and even weeks, so that the inhabitants have got
-to know them individually, and have given them special names. Certain
-well-known mother-whales visit the same bays every year to bring forth
-their young, and they themselves are spared, but they have to purchase
-their own lives, dearly enough, at the cost of that of their young
-ones, which are regularly taken captive. It is very unusual for the
-migrating whales to keep neither to time nor to route; in general,
-their journeys are as regular as if they were arranged according to the
-position of the stars, and as if they took place along laid-out paths
-bounded on both sides. No other mammal migrates more regularly; indeed,
-their wanderings may be compared with the migrations of birds.
-
-The seals, like the whales, migrate every year, on the whole with
-great regularity, though not to such a distance. Those species which
-inhabit inland seas cannot, of course, leave these, but they traverse
-them every year in regular order, or at certain times ascend the rivers
-flowing into them; all the ocean species, on the other hand, set out
-every autumn and spring, by definite routes, to certain regions or
-localities. All the seals in the far north, as well as those in the
-seas about the South Pole, are forced to migrate by the extension of
-the ice in winter, and may travel with it towards temperate zones,
-returning towards the poles again as the ice melts. But they, like all
-other members of their order, are impelled to travel for another not
-less weighty reason; they require the mainland, or at least large,
-spreading, fixed masses of ice, on which to bring forth and nurture
-their young, until these are able to follow them into the water, there
-to shift for themselves. Thus every year thousands and hundreds of
-thousands of seals appear on certain islands and ice-banks, covering
-some of these birth-places of their race in such crowds that every
-available spot must be utilized in order to secure space for all to
-bring forth their young. They pass weeks, even months, on land or on
-the ice without hunting, descending into the sea, or taking food; they
-suckle their young, then mate, and by degrees break up their great
-assemblage, distributing themselves over the wide ocean to resume their
-former manner of life, or setting out with their young, who still
-require training, on more or less extensive foraging expeditions.[59]
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 38.--Flying Foxes.]
-
-As is well known, there are many mammals which have the habit of
-hibernating, which pass the severe part of the year well protected in
-deep and carefully closed burrows, and are thus spared the necessity of
-leaving their haunts. Even among these, however, at least among those
-living in the temperate zones, there are some which migrate during
-their waking time, namely, the bats. Defective as the wing of a bat
-must appear when compared with that of a bird, it is nevertheless of
-such assistance in flight, that it makes journeys possible which seem
-out of all proportion to the size of the animal. Another fact makes
-travelling easier to the restless bat; it is not tied down by its
-offspring to any particular spot, for the young one attaches itself
-directly after birth to the breast of the mother, and is borne by her
-through the air till it is capable of independent life. The bat is
-thus one of the best-adapted of migratory mammals, and, under some
-circumstances, it makes full use of its advantages. As a general rule,
-the wanderings of the different species of bat are to be regarded
-simply as excursions made with a view to taking advantage of any
-district which is, for the time being, particularly rich in food; but
-they do sometimes become really long journeys, which lead some species
-to far distant lands, and they are then not without the regularity
-characteristic of all true migrations. The largest bats, the flying
-foxes, fly long distances every evening in search of the fruits on
-which they chiefly subsist; they do not hesitate to cross an arm of the
-sea fifty or sixty miles in breadth, and they must even have traversed
-the distance between Southern Asia and the East of Africa, as certain
-species occur in both these regions. The bats proper accomplish at
-least as much. Following the reappearance of the insects, which occurs
-at different times in regions of different altitude, they ascend from
-the plains to the mountain heights, and descend in autumn to the low
-grounds again; they pursue the numerous flies which congregate about
-the wandering cattle-herds of Central Africa, and they migrate also
-from the south towards the north and return southwards again, or in
-reverse order. The boreal bat appears at the beginning of the bright
-nights in the north of Scandinavia and Russia, and leaves these
-districts, which may be considered its head-quarters, towards the end
-of summer, to spend the winter among the mountains of Central Germany
-and the Alps. The pond-bat is regularly seen on the plains of North
-Germany during summer, but only exceptionally at that period among the
-mountains of Central Germany, in whose caverns it spends the winter.
-That other species of bat occurring in Germany change their place of
-abode in a similar manner can scarcely be doubted.
-
-In the cases cited, which have been selected from a mass of available
-material, I have given examples of those migrations of mammals which
-we may call voluntary, because of their regularity; but in so doing I
-have by no means completed my task. Hunger and thirst, the poverty and
-temporary inhospitableness of a particular region, sometimes press so
-severely on certain mammals that they endeavour, as if despairing, to
-save themselves by flight. Abundant nourishment and good weather favour
-the increase of all animals, and affect that of a few plant-eating
-mammals to such an extraordinary degree, that, even under propitious
-conditions, their habitat must be extended. But if one or more rich
-years--in some cases a few favourable months--be followed by a sudden
-reverse, the famine soon passes all bounds, and robs the creatures not
-only of the possibility of subsistence, but also of all hope, or at
-least of all presence of mind.
-
-It is under circumstances such as these that the field-voles of our
-own country, and the Siberian voles, assemble in enormous multitudes,
-leave their native haunts and migrate to other districts, turning
-back for no obstacles, avoiding the water as little as the forbidding
-mountains or the gloomy forest, fighting to the last against hunger
-and misery, but perishing hopelessly from diseases and epidemics which
-rage among them like plagues, reducing armies of millions to a few
-hundreds. Thus, too, the squirrels of Siberia, which, in ordinary
-years, undertake, at the most, only short excursions, assemble in vast
-armies, hurry in troops or companies from tree to tree, in compact
-masses from forest to forest, swim across rivers and streams, throng
-into towns and villages, lose their lives by thousands; but suffer no
-obstacle or hindrance--not even the most obvious dangers--to delay
-them or divert them from their path. The soles of their feet become
-worn and cracked, their nails ground down, the hairs of their usually
-smooth fur rough and matted. Through the forest lynxes and sables, in
-the open fields gluttons, foxes and wolves, eagles, falcons, owls and
-ravens follow them closely; pestilence claims more victims from their
-ranks than the teeth and claws of beast of prey or the guns and cudgels
-of men, yet they press on and on, apparently without hope of return.
-A Siberian sportsman of my acquaintance gave me a verbal account of
-the appearance of such an army of squirrels, in August 1869, in the
-town of Tapilsk, among the Ural Mountains. It was only one wing of a
-migrating army, of which the main body travelled through the forest
-about five miles farther north. Sometimes in single file, sometimes
-in companies of varying strength, but in unbroken succession, the
-animals pressed on, crowding as densely through the town as through the
-neighbouring forest; used the streets, as well as the hedges, and the
-roofs of buildings as paths; filled every court-yard, thronged through
-windows and doors into the houses, and created quite an uproar among
-the inhabitants--much more among the dogs, which killed thousands of
-them, evincing an unbridled bloodthirstiness till then unsuspected. The
-squirrels, however, did not seem to concern themselves in the least
-about the innumerable victims falling in their midst; in fact, they
-took no notice of anything, and allowed nothing to divert them from
-their route. The procession lasted for three whole days, from early
-morning till late in the evening, and only after nightfall each day was
-there a break in the continuity of the stream. All travelled in exactly
-the same direction, from south to north, and those that came last took
-the same paths as their predecessors. The rushing Tchussoveia proved no
-obstacle, for all that reached the bank of that rapid mountain-river
-plunged without hesitation into its whirling and seething waters, and
-swam, deeply sunk and with their tails laid across their backs, to
-the opposite bank. My informant, who had been watching the procession
-with growing attention and sympathy, rowed out into the midst of the
-throng. The tired swimmers, to whom he stretched out an oar, climbed up
-by it into the boat, where, apparently exhausted, they sat quietly and
-confidingly, until it came alongside a larger vessel, when they climbed
-into that, and remained on it for some time as indifferent as before.
-As soon as the boat touched the bank they sprang ashore, and proceeded
-on their journey as unconcernedly as if it had suffered no interruption.
-
-It must be similar circumstances which compel the lemmings to the
-migrations which have been known for centuries. For many successive
-years the heights in the tundras of Scandinavia, North Russia, and
-the North of Siberia afford them comfortable quarters and abundant
-nourishment; for the broad ridges of the fjelds and the extensive
-plains between them, the highlands and the low grounds, offer room and
-maintenance for millions of them. But not every year do they enjoy the
-accustomed abundance for the whole summer. If a winter in which much
-snow falls, and which is therefore favourable to them, as they live
-safely below the snow, be followed by an early, warm, and agreeable
-spring, their extraordinary fertility and power of increase seem to
-have almost no bounds, and the tundra literally teems with lemmings. A
-fine warm summer increases their numbers past computing, but it also
-accelerates the life-course of all the plants on which they feed, and
-before it is over these are partly withered, partly devoured by the
-greedy teeth of the insatiable rodents. Scarcity of food begins to
-be felt, and their comfortable life comes to an end in panic. Their
-fearless, bold demeanour gives place to a general uneasiness, and
-soon a mad anxiety for the future takes possession of them. Then they
-assemble together and begin to migrate. The same impulse animates many
-simultaneously, and from them it spreads to others; the swarms become
-armies; they arrange themselves in ranks, and a living stream flows
-like running water from the heights to the low grounds. All hurry
-onwards in a definite direction, but this often changes according to
-locality and circumstances. Gradually long trains are formed in which
-lemming follows lemming so closely that the head of one seems to rest
-on the back of the one in front of it; and the continuous tread of the
-light, little creatures hollows out paths deep enough to be visible
-from a long distance in the mossy carpet of the tundra. The longer the
-march lasts, the greater becomes the haste of the wandering lemmings.
-Eagerly they fall upon the plants on and about their path and devour
-whatever is edible; but their numbers impoverish even a fresh district
-within a few hours, and though a few in front may pick up a little
-food, nothing is left for those behind; the hunger increases every
-minute, and the speed of the march quickens in proportion; every
-obstacle seems surmountable, every danger trifling, and thousands rush
-on to death. If men come in their way they run between their legs;
-they face ravens and other powerful birds of prey defiantly; they gnaw
-through hay-stacks, climb over mountains and rocks, swim across rivers,
-and even across broad lakes, arms of the sea, and fjords. A hostile
-company, like that behind the migrating squirrels, follows in their
-wake: wolves and foxes, gluttons, martens and weasels, the ravenous
-dogs of the Lapps and Samoyedes, eagles, buzzards, and snowy owls,
-ravens and hooded crows fatten on the innumerable victims which they
-seize without trouble from the moving army; gulls and fishes feast
-on those which cross the water. Diseases and epidemics, too, are not
-awanting, and probably destroy more than all their enemies together.
-Thousands of carcasses lie rotting on the wayside, thousands are
-carried away by the waves; whether indeed any are left, and whether
-these return later to their native Alpine heights, or whether all,
-without exception, perish in the course of their journey, no one can
-say with certainty; but so much I know, that I have traversed great
-tracts of the tundra of Lapland where the paths and other traces of
-a great migrating army were to be seen almost everywhere, while not
-a single lemming could be discovered. Such tracts, I have been told,
-remain thus for several successive years, and only after long periods
-become gradually repeopled with the busy little rodents.[60]
-
-What hunger causes in the North is brought about by the tortures of
-thirst in the richer South. As the brackish pools which have afforded
-water to the zebras, quaggas, antelopes, buffaloes, ostriches, and
-other animals of the steppes, dry up more and more under the burning
-heat of a South African winter, all the animals whose necessities have
-hitherto been supplied by the steppes assemble about the pools which
-still contain a little water, and these become scenes of stirring,
-active life. But when these, too, evaporate, the animals which have
-congregated around them are compelled to migrate, and it may happen
-that despair takes possession of them, as it did of the little rodents
-already described, and that, collecting in herds like the wild horses
-and Chinese antelopes (dzieren) of the steppes of Central Asia, or
-the bisons of the North American prairies, they rush straight on for
-hundreds of miles, to escape the hardships of winter.
-
-In the South, too, the wild horses are the first to turn their
-backs on the inhospitable country. Till the drought sets in, these
-beautifully-marked, strong, swift, self-confident children of the
-Karroo, the zebra, quagga, and dauw, wander careless and free through
-their vast domain, each herd going its own way under the guidance of
-an old, experienced, and battle-tried stallion. Then the cares of the
-winter season begin to make themselves felt. One water-pool after
-another disappears, and the herds which gather about those which
-remain become more and more numerous. The general distress makes even
-the combative stallions forget to quarrel and fight. Instead of small
-companies, herds of more than a hundred head are formed, and these move
-and act collectively, and finally forsake the wintry region altogether
-before want has enfeebled their powers or broken their stubborn wills.
-Travellers describe with enthusiasm the spectacle presented by such
-a herd of wild horses on the march. Far into the distance stretches
-the sandy plain, its shimmering red ground-colour interrupted here
-and there by patches of sunburnt grass, its scanty shade supplied by
-a few feathery-leaved mimosas, and, as far away as the eye can reach,
-the horizon is bounded by the sharp lines of mountains quivering in a
-bluish haze. In the midst of this landscape appears a cloud of dust
-which, disturbed by no breath of air, ascends to the blue heavens like
-a pillar of smoke. Nearer and nearer the cloud approaches, until at
-length the eye can distinguish living creatures moving within it. Soon
-the brightly-coloured and strangely-marked animals present themselves
-clearly to the spectator’s gaze; in densely thronged ranks, with heads
-and tails raised, neck and neck with the quaintly-shaped gnus and
-ostriches which have joined their company, they rush by on their way to
-a new, and possibly far-distant feeding-ground, and ere the onlooker
-has recovered himself, the wild army has passed by and is lost from
-view in the immeasurable steppe.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 39.--Springbok Antelopes.]
-
-The antelopes, which are also driven out by winter, do not always
-follow the same paths, but usually travel in the same direction. None
-is more numerous or more frequently seen than the springbok, one of
-the most graceful and beautiful gazelles with which we are acquainted.
-Its unusual beauty and agility strike everyone who sees it in its wild
-state, now walking with elastic step, now standing still to feed, now
-springing about in playful leaps, and thus disclosing its greatest
-ornament, a mane-like snow-white tuft of hair, which at a quieter pace
-is hidden in a longitudinal groove of the back. None of the other
-antelopes, when forced to migrate, assemble in such numerous herds as
-this one. Even the most vivid description cannot convey to one who has
-not seen a herd of springboks on their journey any adequate idea of
-the wonderful spectacle. After having congregated for weeks, perhaps
-waiting for the first shower of rain, the springboks at last resolve to
-migrate. Hundreds of the species join other hundreds, thousands other
-thousands, and the more threatening the scarcity, the more torturing
-the thirst, the longer the distances which they cover; the flocks
-become herds, the herds armies, and these resemble the swarms of
-locusts which darken the sun. In the plains they cover square miles;
-in the passes between the mountains they throng together in a compact
-mass which no other creature can resist; over the low grounds they
-pour, like a stream which has overflowed its banks and carries all
-before it. Bewildering, intoxicating, and stupefying even the calmest
-of men, the throng surges past for hours, perhaps days together.[61]
-Like the greedy locusts, the famishing animals fall upon grass and
-leaves, grain, and other fruits of the field; where they have passed,
-not a blade is left. The man who comes in contact with them is at once
-thrown to the ground, and so sorely wounded by the tread of their
-hoofs, light indeed, but a thousand times repeated, that he may be glad
-if he escapes with his life; a herd of sheep feeding in the way is
-surrounded and carried off, never to be seen again; a lion, who thought
-to gain an easy prey, finds himself forced to relinquish his victim,
-and to travel with the stream. Unceasingly those behind press forward,
-and those in front yield slowly to the pressure; those cooped up in the
-middle strive continually to reach the wings, and their efforts are
-strenuously resisted. Above the clouds of dust raised by the rushing
-army the vultures circle; flanks and rear are attended by a funeral
-procession of various beasts of prey; in the passes lurk sportsmen, who
-send shot after shot into the throng. So the tortured animals travel
-for many miles, till at length spring sets in and their armies are
-broken up.
-
-Shall I go on to consider other compulsory migrations, such as those of
-the arctic foxes and polar bears when an ice-floe on which they were
-hunting is loosened and floated off by the waves till, under favourable
-circumstances, it touches some island? I think not, for journeys such
-as these are not migrations, they are simply passive driftings.
-
-
-
-
-LOVE AND COURTSHIP AMONG BIRDS.
-
-
-An irresistible instinct, an all-compelling law of nature, moves every
-living creature to seek a mate of its own species but of opposite sex,
-to unite a second existence with its own, to awaken responsive emotions
-through complete self-surrender, and thus to form the closest bond
-which links being to being, life to life. No power is strong enough to
-set aside this law, no command authoritative enough to influence it.
-Yielding to no hindrance this instinct overcomes every obstacle, and
-presses victorious to its goal.
-
-The almighty power through which this law works we call Love, when
-we speak of its influence on man; we describe it as Instinct when we
-discuss its operation on the lower animals. But this is a mere play
-upon words, nothing more; unless by the former word we intend to imply
-that every natural instinct in man should by man himself be ennobled
-and moralized. If it be not so, it will be difficult to distinguish
-between the two. Man and beast are subject to the same law, but the
-beast yields it a more absolute obedience. The animal does not weigh or
-reflect, but gives itself up without resistance to the sway of love,
-which man often fondly imagines he can withstand or escape.
-
-Of course, he who ventures at the outset to dispute man’s belonging to
-the animal world at all, sees in an animal nothing more than a machine
-which is moved and guided, stimulated to action, incited to sue for the
-favour of the opposite sex, impelled to songs of rejoicing, provoked to
-combat with rivals, by forces outside of itself; and, naturally enough,
-he denies to such a machine all freedom and discretion, all conflict
-between opposing motives, all emotional and intellectual life. Without
-raising himself by thus claiming a monopoly of intelligent action, or
-at least of intellectual freedom, he degrades the lower animals to
-false creations of his own hollow vanity, suggesting that they lead a
-seeming rather than a real life, and that they are without any of the
-joys of existence.[62]
-
-An exactly contrary position would be undoubtedly more just, as it
-certainly is more accurate. Indeed, it is scarcely too much to say
-that he who refuses to credit the lower animals with intelligence
-raises anxiety on the score of his own, and that he who denies them
-all emotional life has himself no experience of what emotional life
-is. Whoever observes without prejudice is sooner or later forced to
-admit that the mental activity of all animal beings, diverse as its
-expression may be, is based upon the same laws, and that every animal,
-within its own allotted life-circle and under the same circumstances,
-thinks, feels, and acts like any other, and is not, in contrast to
-man, impelled to quite definite actions by so-called higher laws. The
-causes of the actions of animals may perhaps be termed laws, but, if
-so, we must not forget that man is subject to the same. His intellect
-may enable him to make some of these laws of nature subservient to his
-purposes, to modify others, sometimes even to evade them, but never to
-break or annul them.
-
-Let me attempt to prove the correctness of these opinions by giving
-examples to show how essentially the expressions of life in man and
-in the lower animals may resemble each other, how both are alike
-all-powerfully influenced by the most important of the laws of nature,
-that which has for its aim, or its consequence, the continuance of
-the species. Man and bird: how wide the gulf which separates them
-and their lives! how vast the differences between their habits and
-behaviour! Is there a power which can bridge over this gulf? Are
-conditions conceivable which can incite them to essentially similar
-expressions of life? We shall see.
-
-The birds are more unreservedly dependent on the rotation of the
-seasons than man is. “They sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather
-into barns”, and they must perforce adapt themselves to the seasons if
-they are to find sufficient food, if they are to live at all. Therefore
-they blossom in spring, bring forth their fruits in summer, conceal
-these and themselves in autumn, and rest in winter like the motherly
-earth. The chapters of their life-history are closely bound up with the
-seasonal progress of the year.
-
-In this respect they are indeed governed by an iron law which, within
-a certain limit, renders anything like freedom and caprice impossible.
-But whither should spontaneity tend save to want and misery, to the
-imperilling of their own lives and those of their young? So they bow
-submissively to nature’s law, and enjoy, in consequence, a freedom
-which we men might envy them, and should envy them, were we not more
-capable of withdrawing ourselves from the influence of the seasons than
-they. But do not we also blossom in spring, and rest in winter? And
-must not we, too, bow before iron necessity?
-
-If the birds are in bondage in certain respects, they preserve their
-freedom and power of choice in others, and they exercise both more
-joyously and unrestrainedly than man himself.
-
-No bird voluntarily renounces the joys of love; very few evade the
-bonds of marriage; but everyone seeks to attain to and enjoy love as
-early as possible. Before it has laid aside its youthful dress the
-young bird has learnt to recognize and respect the distinctions of
-sex; much earlier than that, the young male fights with his fellows as
-if in boyish wantonness; as soon as he is full-grown he woos ardently
-and persistently some female of his own species. No male bird condemns
-himself to bachelorhood, no female bird hardens her heart against a
-deserving suitor. For lack of a mate, the male wanders restlessly and
-aimlessly over land and sea; for a worthy mate the female forgets pain
-and oppressive grief, however deep these may have been; for the wooer
-who seems to her most worthy she breaks even her conjugal bonds.
-
-Every female bird attains to the possession of a husband, but not
-every male readily succeeds in gaining a wife. Even among birds so
-great a good must be sought after and striven for. On an average,
-there are more males than females, and many males are obliged to
-suffer the severest misfortune which can befall them, and to live, at
-least temporarily, unmated. For the great majority of birds, celibacy
-is a state of torment from which they strive with all their strength
-to escape. So they traverse wide tracts in search of a mate, seeking
-diligently, and when they imagine they have found one, wooing with
-equal ardour, whether she be maid, wife, or widow. If these wanderings
-were usually fruitless, they would not take place so regularly as they
-do.
-
-In wooing their mates, the males exhaust all the charms with which
-nature has endowed them. According to his species and capacity each
-brings his best gifts into play, each seeks to show his best side, to
-reveal all his amiability, to surpass in brilliance others of his kind.
-This desire increases with the hope of fulfilment; his love intoxicates
-him, throws him into ecstasies. The older he is the more remarkably
-does he conduct himself, the more self-confident does he appear, the
-more impetuously does he strive for the reward of love. The proverb,
-“There are no fools like old fools”, does not apply in his case, for
-it is but rarely that age condemns him to weakness and incapacity;
-on the contrary, it strengthens all his capabilities and increases
-his energy by mature experience. Little wonder then that at least the
-younger females prefer the older males, and that these woo, if not more
-ardently, at least more confidently than their younger rivals.
-
-The means by which a male bird declares his love and conducts his
-courtship are very various, but, naturally, they always accord with his
-most prominent gifts. One woos with his song, another with his wings,
-this one with his bill, and that with his foot; one displays all the
-magnificence of his plumage, another some special decoration, and a
-third some otherwise unused accomplishment. Serious birds indulge in
-play and joke and dignified pranks; silent ones chatter, quiet ones
-become restless, gentle ones combative, timid ones bold, cautious ones
-careless: in short, all show themselves in an unwonted light. Their
-whole nature appears changed, for all their movements are more active,
-more excited than usual, and their conduct differs from their ordinary
-behaviour in every respect; they are possessed by an intoxication
-which increases the elasticity of their nature to such a degree that
-no flagging is ever perceptible. They deprive themselves of sleep, or
-reduce it to a minimum without weariness, and while awake they exert
-all their powers to the utmost without fatigue.
-
-All birds with a voice utter clear, articulate notes in their
-courtship, and their song is nothing more than a supplication or
-exultation of love. Our poet’s words:
-
-  “Hushed is the nightingale’s lay,
-    Which gladdened our hearts in spring;
-  ’Tis only in love’s heyday
-    That we hear its minstrels sing”,
-
-are literally true; for the song of the nightingale, and those of all
-other birds which delight us with their lays, begin with the first
-stirrings of love, and come to an end when the intoxication is past,
-and other emotions and cares have taken its place. Singing, the bird
-flies forth on his quest for a mate; in song he tells the female of
-his approach, and invites her to join him; in passionate song he gives
-expression to his delight when he has found her, and to his desires,
-and longings, and hopes; through his song he reveals his strength, and
-exalts his own bliss to the heavens; and through it, too, he challenges
-all other males of his species who would presume to disturb his
-happiness. Only so long as he is inspired by the intoxication of love
-is the bird’s song full of fire and strength, and if he sing at other
-times, his lay is certainly a reminiscence of the great joy which once
-was his. Whoever maintains, as has really been maintained, that a bird
-sings without any personal feeling whatever, that it sings at a given
-time simply because it must, and that at another time it could not if
-it would, has never understood, or sought to understand, the song of
-birds, but has simply given petulant expression to his own prejudice.
-A dispassionate observer must soon perceive that a bird’s song, though
-it remains essentially the same, varies with every emotion, that it
-flows quietly on, ascends, bursts out triumphantly, and dies away
-again, according to the prevailing mood, and that it awakens an echo
-in the breast of other males. If the view referred to were correct,
-each bird would sing exactly like every other of the same species; it
-would pour forth its appointed lay as mechanically as a musical box
-emits the tunes plugged up in its rotating cylinder; none could change
-or improve his song, or strive to surpass his fellows. Our own view
-is exactly the opposite, for we are convinced that a bird sings with
-perfect consciousness, that in his song he lays bare his soul. He is
-a poet, who, within his own limits, invents, creates, and struggles
-for utterance; and the motive throughout is love for the opposite sex.
-Dominated by this love, the jay sings, whistles, and murmurs, the
-magpie chatters, the croaking raven transforms its rough sounds into
-gentle, soft notes, the usually silent grebe lets its voice be heard,
-the diver sings its wild yet tuneful ocean-song, the bittern dips its
-bill under water that the only cry at its command may become a dull,
-far-sounding booming. A bird does indeed sing only at a certain season,
-but it is not because it cannot do so at other times, but because it
-has then no inducement, no inclination to sing. It is silent when it
-no longer loves; to speak more prosaically, when the pairing-time
-is past. This is clearly proved in the case of the familiar cuckoo.
-Three-fourths of the year go by and its call is not once heard; spring
-comes round in the revolution of the seasons and it sounds forth
-almost incessantly from early morning till late in the evening, as
-long as the pairing-time lasts. But it is silent sooner in the south
-than in the north, sooner in the plains than in the mountains, exactly
-corresponding to the brooding-time of the foster-parents, which begin
-their nest-building earlier, and finish the rearing of their young
-sooner in the south and in the plains than in the north and in the
-highlands.
-
-During courtship many birds supplement their vocal efforts by pleasing
-movements, whether executed with the help of the wings or of the feet;
-others by peculiar attitudes in which they display themselves, or
-strut before the females; others, again, by special noises which they
-produce.
-
-While a few falcons, and all owls, express their desires chiefly, if
-not exclusively, by means of loud cries, other birds of prey indulge,
-either alone or in company with their mates, in a magnificent play
-of wings, which is now a kind of round dance, and anon becomes a
-perfect frenzy. Eagles, buzzards, peregrine falcons, kestrels, and
-lesser kestrels circle round each other for hours at a time, ascend
-spirally to giddy heights, exercise, obviously to their mutual pleasure
-and satisfaction, all the arts of flight of which they are capable,
-utter shrill cries from time to time, spread out their plumage in
-the sunlight, and, finally, glide slowly down and assume a dignified
-sitting posture, there to resume their caressings. Kites, which behave
-in an essentially similar manner, let themselves suddenly down, with
-half-closed wings, from a very considerable height, until they are
-just over the ground, or a sheet of water, then begin, more quickly
-than usual, to describe a series of curves, remain hovering for some
-time over a particular spot, or execute other wonderful movements,
-then slowly soar again to their former height. Harriers fly for some
-time with apparent indifference behind the desired mate, then begin to
-circle round her, describe with her a series of intersecting curves,
-and, suddenly leaving her, soar, with head directed upwards, almost
-perpendicularly up to a considerable height, increasing, at the same
-time, the speed of their ordinarily leisurely flight to a surprising
-rapidity; then, tumbling precipitately over, fall with almost closed
-wings to near the ground, circle there once, twice, or oftener, ascend
-again and proceed as before, till at last the female makes up her
-mind to follow their example. But all these which we have mentioned
-are surpassed by the bateleur, or mountebank, a harrier about the
-size of an eagle, living in the interior of Africa, and one of the
-most remarkable of birds of prey in form and behaviour (p. 188). Its
-marvellous flight is at all times likely to attract the attention of
-observers, but during the pairing-time this becomes an incomparable
-mountebank performance in the air, a bewildering acrobatic display,
-which seems to unite in itself all the arts of flight practised by the
-other birds of prey.
-
-Many other birds which are not specially skilful in flight act in much
-the same way as the wooing birds of prey. That they call in the aid
-of their wings when they strive to win the love of a mate, or wish to
-express their delight in a possession already won, is intelligible
-enough after what has been related. The swallow, sitting beside his
-desired or chosen mate, eagerly warbles his melodious lay; but the
-emotion within his breast is much too strong to allow him to sit still
-during the progress of his song, so he flies upwards, singing in his
-flight, and hovers and circles about the female who has followed him.
-The goatsucker sits for a time lengthwise on a bough, often at some
-distance from his mate, spins off his whirring strophes for some
-minutes, then rises, flies about his mate in graceful curves, flapping
-his wings, and calling to her such a tender “haït”, that one wonders
-how a sound so soft can possibly be produced by his rough throat. The
-bee-eater, whose voice is also unmelodious, sits for a long time on
-his perch, pressing closely to his mate, uttering scarcely a sound,
-sometimes none whatever, but apparently contenting himself with casting
-tender glances from his beautiful bright red eyes; but he, too, takes
-fire, moves his wings abruptly, rises high into the air, describes
-a circle, utters a jubilant cry, and returns to his mate, who has
-remained sitting where he left her. In the midst of its most ardent
-love-song--call it cooing, murmuring, moaning, or what you will--the
-dove breaks off suddenly as if inspired by its own music, then claps
-its wings loudly and sharply several times, soars aloft, spreads its
-wings and floats slowly down to a tree-top, there to begin its song
-anew. Tree-pipits and rock-pipits, white-throats, and garden warblers
-behave exactly like the doves; the wood-warblers precipitate themselves
-from their high perches without ceasing to sing, fly up again to
-another branch, where they finish their song, to begin it again a few
-minutes later, and bring it to a conclusion with a similar play of
-wings. Greenfinches, siskins, and common buntings, in the enthusiasm
-of love, tumble through the air as if they had no control over their
-wings; the larks soar to heaven singing their song of love; the serin
-behaves as if it had taken lessons from a bat.
-
-A similar intoxication possesses those birds which declare their love
-by dancing. They, too, act contrary to all their usual habits during
-the dance, and fall finally into a transport which makes them almost
-forget the outside world. Few birds dance silently, most of them
-utter peculiar sounds, never heard at other times, at the same time
-displaying all their adornments, and often bringing the performance to
-a close with a sort of round dance.
-
-Particularly zealous dancers are the scratchers or fowls in the
-widest acceptation of the term. Our domestic cock contents himself
-with strutting proudly about, crowing and flapping his wings; his
-companions in the yard, the peacock and the turkey, do more, for they
-dance. Much more vigorous dancers than either of these are all the
-grouse-like birds and some pheasants. Whoever has watched the dance of
-the capercaillie in the grey morning hours, has listened to the liquid
-cooing of the black-grouse, has seen the willow-grouse dancing on the
-snowy plains of the tundra in the dusk of a northern spring, will agree
-with me that such homage as these cocks offer to the hens must be as
-irresistible as that paid by our own peacock when he transforms his
-chief ornament into a canopy for his desired mate. More remarkable than
-all the rest is the behaviour of the male tragopans or horned pheasants
-of Southern Asia, magnificently decorative birds, distinguished by two
-brightly-coloured horn-like tubes of skin on the sides of the head, and
-by brilliantly-coloured extensible wattles. After the cock has walked
-round the hen several times without appearing to pay any attention to
-her, he stands still at a particular spot, and begins to bow. More
-and more quickly the courtesies follow each other, the horns meantime
-swelling and tossing, the wattles dilating and collapsing again, till
-all are literally flying about the head of the love-crazed bird. Now
-he unfolds and spreads his wings, rounds and droops his tail, sinks
-down with bent feet, and, spitting and hissing, lets his wings sweep
-along the ground. Suddenly every movement ceases. Bent low, his plumage
-ruffled, his wings and tail pressed against the ground, his eyes
-closed, his breathing audible, he remains for a while in motionless
-ecstasy. His fully-unfolded decorations gleam with dazzling brightness.
-Abruptly he rises again, spits and hisses, trembles, smooths his
-feathers, scratches, throws up his tail, flaps his wings, jerks
-himself up to his full height, rushes upon the female, and, suddenly
-checking his wild career, appears before her in olympic majesty, stands
-still for a moment, trembles, twitches, hisses, and all at once lets
-all his glory vanish, smooths his feathers, draws in his horns and
-wattles, and goes about his business as if nothing had happened.
-
-With head slightly bent, with wings and tail spread out, the former
-moving tremulously, the wagtails trip with dainty steps about their
-chosen mates, bowing, advancing, and retreating again; the fire-finch
-looks like a brilliant flame of incense as he turns about, singing
-gaily and spreading his beautiful feathers in the sunlight, on the
-top of an ear of the Kaffir millet, among which he and his loved one
-have made their home; tenderly, with mouth pressed to mouth and breast
-to breast, like the children of men, the dove and his mate together
-execute a slow dance; the cranes dance passionately, with nimble leaps;
-not less ardently, even in sight of apparently admiring spectators,
-does the beautiful cock of the rock of Tropical America disport
-himself; even the condor, whose powers of flight are of the first
-order, who sails through the air thousands of feet above the highest
-peaks of the Andes, whom one would scarcely expect to conduct his
-wooing otherwise than with his wings, ventures on a little dance, and
-with head sunk upon his breast, and with wings fully spread, circles
-slowly and with mincing steps around his mate, to an accompaniment of
-strange drumming, murmuring sounds.
-
-Other birds, again, instead of dancing, spring impetuously up
-and down, and hop hither and thither among the branches, at the
-same time displaying whatever beauty they possess: thus, the male
-birds-of-paradise assemble in crowds on certain trees during the early
-morning hours, and with the aforesaid movements and tremulous quivering
-of their wings, display their wonderful plumage in honour of the other
-sex. Others even build bower-like structures, which they decorate with
-all kinds of coloured, shimmering, and glittering objects, and within
-which they perform their dances. Finally, a few birds with no special
-accomplishments either of voice or of flight or of dance, make use of
-their bills to produce singular sounds. Thus all the storks woo by
-quickly clapping the two halves of the bill together, so producing
-a clatter which makes up for their lack of voice; thus, too, the
-woodpeckers hammer so fast on a dry tree-top or branch that the wood
-flies about in splinters, and a drumming sound is caused which resounds
-throughout the forest.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 40.--The Strutting of the Tragopan in Pairing-time.]
-
-Although it cannot be said that the female coquettishly repels any
-advances and declarations of love, it is only in cases of necessity
-that she accepts a suitor without exercising selection. At first she
-listens to the tenderest love-songs apparently with the greatest
-indifference, and looks on unconcernedly at all the play of wings,
-the dances executed in her honour, and all the beauty displayed to
-do her homage. For the most part she behaves as if all the display
-of fascinations on the part of the males had no relation to her at
-all. Leisurely, and seemingly quite uninterested in their doings, she
-goes about her daily business of seeking food. In many, though by
-no means in all cases, she is ultimately enticed by the song in her
-glorification, the dances to her praise, but by no action does she give
-a sign of complaisant response. Many female birds, especially the hens
-of all polygamous species, do not even come to the “playing” grounds
-of the cocks, though they are anything but coy, and often by their
-inviting cries inflame the strutting cocks to the height of passion.
-If a male becomes more importunate than is agreeable to the female she
-takes refuge in flight. In very rare cases this may perhaps be meant in
-earnest, but it is usually continued with such energy and persistence
-that it is not always easy to determine whether it takes place without
-any secondary intention or whether it is merely a pretence. If it
-aims at nothing, it certainly achieves something: a heightening of
-the desire, a straining to the utmost of all the powers and resources
-of the wooing male. More excited than ever, regardless of all
-considerations, and bent only on attaining his object, he pursues the
-flying female as if he meant to force her to grant his suit; he sings
-with more fire, struts, dances, and plays with more agility than ever,
-and exercises his arts of flight whenever the female stops to rest, and
-more eagerly than ever he follows her if she takes to fresh flight.
-
-Probably the females would be more compliant than they generally are if
-one male were the only suitor. But the fact that the males are in most
-species in the majority gives the female bird the boon of freedom of
-choice. Several males, sometimes even a considerable number of them,
-pay court to her at the same time, and thus justify her deliberation
-and selectiveness. Intentionally or unintentionally, she obeys the
-law of selection; among several she tries to pick out the best, the
-strongest, the healthiest, the most excellent in every respect.[63] She
-can afford to be fastidious. The reaction of her conduct on the males
-finds expression in boundless jealousy, which results, not unnaturally,
-in prolonged, often mortal, combat. Every bird, harmless as he may
-appear to us, is a hero in fighting for his loved one, and everyone
-understands so well how to use the weapons he is provided with, whether
-bill, claws, spurred feet, or even wings armed with horny spines, that
-the battle in many cases comes to an end only with the death of one of
-the combatants.
-
-The combat takes place in the air, on the ground, among the branches,
-or in the water, according to the species of bird. Eagles and falcons
-fight their adversaries in the air with beak and talons. Magnificent
-curves, rival flights to attain to a height suitable for attack, swift
-thrust, brilliant parry, mutual persecution and courageous persistence
-are the chief features of such duels. If one of the kingly champions
-succeeds in seizing his foe, the latter strikes his talons into his
-opponent’s breast, and both, unable properly to use their wings, fall
-whirling through the air. When the ground is reached the fight is,
-of course, interrupted; but, as soon as one rises, the other follows
-him, and hostilities begin anew. If one becomes exhausted, perhaps in
-consequence of wounds received, he beats a retreat, and, hotly pursued
-by the victor, flies hastily and without attempting resistance, beyond
-the limits of the domain which the female bird has chosen for herself;
-but, in spite of defeat, he does not finally relinquish the strife
-until she has declared decidedly in favour of the conqueror. Such duels
-sometimes, though not very often, have a fatal issue, for the eagle,
-whose jealousy is provoked by love and ambition, shows no mercy towards
-a conquered foe, but remorselessly kills the adversary who has been
-incapacitated for further combat or for flight. Even those apparently
-most harmless creatures, the swifts, occasionally kill their rivals,
-for in their struggles, which are precisely like those of the eagles
-and falcons, they strike their sharp claws into the breasts of their
-foes, and tear the flesh so that the death of the wounded one often
-results.
-
-Among all birds with voices the combat is preceded by a definite
-challenge. Even the song of a singing bird is a weapon with which
-he may gain a bloodless victory; the pairing-cry, which so well
-expresses wooing, always excites jealousy. Whoever can imitate the
-call of the cuckoo may entice the usually cautious bird to the very
-tree under which he is standing. Whoever can adequately mimic the
-complex whistle of the golden oriole, the cooing of the wild pigeon and
-turtle-dove, the drumming of the woodpeckers--in a word, the wooing
-song or call-note of any bird--may achieve a similar result. When a
-second suitor appears on the scene he announces his arrival by calling
-or singing. But he soon proceeds to action; and thenceforward there
-rages between him and his rival a strife as violent as those already
-described. In mad fury, calling, screaming, and screeching, one chases
-the other hither and thither, high in mid-air or in lower strata of the
-atmosphere, between tree-tops or among the bushes, and just as in the
-pursuit of the female, so in this chase one male provokes the other to
-passionate rage by challenging calls, and even by song, by displaying
-his decorations, and by other mocking behaviour. If the pursuer
-succeeds in catching his flying foe, he pecks him so hard with his bill
-that the feathers fly about; if he lets him go, the pursued one turns
-in a trice and renews the attack; if neither gives way they maul one
-another thoroughly, whether they are in the air, among the branches, or
-on the ground. Among them, too, the struggle is finally abandoned only
-when the female declares for one or other of the combatants.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 41.--Cock Chaffinches Fighting.]
-
-Ground-birds always fight on the ground, swimming-birds only in the
-water. How obstinately the gallinaceous birds may do battle is known
-to everyone who has watched two cocks fighting. Their duels, too, are
-a matter of life and death, though a fatal result does not often take
-place except when the natural weapons have been sharpened and the means
-of protection weakened by man’s cruel interference. Rival ostriches
-fight with their strong legs, and, striking forwards, tear deep wounds
-with their sharp toe-nails in the breast, body, and legs of their
-opponent. Jealous bustards, after spending a long time challenging
-each other with throat inflated, wings and tail outspread, and much
-grumbling and hissing, make use of their bills with very considerable
-effect. Sandpipers and other shore-birds, particularly the fighting
-ruffs, which fight about everything, about a mate or about a fly, about
-sun and light, or about their standing-ground, run against each other
-with bills like poised lances, and receive the thrusts among their
-breast-feathers, which in the case of the ruffs are developed into what
-serves as a shield. Coots rush at each other on an unsteady surface of
-water-plants, and strike each other with their legs. Swans, geese, and
-ducks chase each other till one of the combatants succeeds in seizing
-the other by the head and holding him under water, till he is in danger
-of suffocating, or at least until he is so much exhausted that he is
-unable to continue the struggle. Swans, like spur-winged birds, seem
-also to use the hard, sharp, thorn-like horny quills at the angle of
-the wing to give effective strokes.
-
-As long as the female has not decided for either of the combatants, she
-takes no part in such struggles, does not appear even to be interested,
-though she must observe them closely, as she usually declares for the
-winner, or at least accepts his suit. How her decision or declaration
-is actually brought about I cannot say, I cannot even guess. While
-the battles described are in progress she makes her choice, and
-from thenceforward she gives herself unreservedly to the favoured
-male, follows him wherever he goes, accepts his demonstrations of
-affection with obvious pleasure, and returns his caresses with the
-most self-forgetting tenderness. She calls longingly after him, greets
-him joyously, and submits unresistingly to his desires and fondlings.
-Parrot pairs sit with their bodies closely pressed together, though
-hundreds may have settled on the same tree; the most complete unison
-is observable in all their doings; they are as if guided by one will.
-Does the husband take food, the wife takes it too; does he seek a new
-perch, she follows him; does he utter a cry, she joins her voice to
-his. Caressingly they nestle in each other’s plumage, and the passive
-female willingly offers head and neck to the eager male, thus to
-receive proofs of his tenderness. Every other female bird receives the
-caresses of her mate with similar, if somewhat less obvious devotion.
-She knows neither moods nor vexatious humours, neither sulking nor
-anger, neither scolding nor upbraiding, neither displeasure nor
-discontent--nothing but love, tenderness, and devotion, while the male
-thinks of nothing but his happiness in his newly-acquired treasure,
-and has no desire but to retain it. While he sometimes arranges or
-decides for her, he yields to the wishes of his mate; when she rises,
-he, too, leaves his perch; when she wanders abroad, he follows her;
-when she returns, he also comes back to the home of his youth. Little
-wonder that the wedlock of birds is happy and blameless. If the birds
-united for life grow old themselves, their love does not grow old with
-them, but remains ever young; and every spring-time fresh oil is poured
-upon the flame; their mutual tenderness does not diminish during the
-longest wedded life. Both mates faithfully take their share of the
-domestic cares at the time of nest-building, hatching the eggs, and
-bringing up the young. The male devotedly assists the female in all the
-labours required by their brood; he defends her courageously, and will
-unhesitatingly rush into obvious danger, even to death, to rescue her.
-In a word, from the beginning of their union they share each other’s
-joys and sorrows, and, except in unusual circumstances, this intimate
-bond lasts throughout life. There is no lack of direct evidence in
-proof of this. Keen-eyed naturalists, who have observed certain birds
-for many successive years, and have at length come to know them so well
-that they could not confuse them with others of the same species, have
-given us their guarantee for the birds’ devotion, and all of us who
-have given special attention to the birds which have come under our
-notice must be led to the same conclusion. A pair of storks on the roof
-of a house give the owner so many opportunities for observing them and
-distinguishing them from other storks that error is almost out of the
-question; and whoever watches his storks will find that the same pair
-occupy the nest every year as long as both live. And every naturalist
-or sportsman, who carefully notes wandering bird-pairs, or shoots them
-if the differences of sex are not readily distinguishable, will find
-that they are really male and female. In the course of my travels in
-Africa I often saw pairs of migrating birds which there, too, lived in
-the close fellowship so characteristic of bird-wedlock, and were as
-inseparable as in the thicket at home, doing all and enduring all in
-common. Pairs of booted eagles were easily recognizable as mates even
-when they travelled or took shelter in company with others of their
-species; the whistling swans which I saw on the Menzaleh Lake in Egypt
-appeared in pairs and flew away again in pairs; all the other united
-pairs which I observed on my way illustrated the same habit. That they
-share misfortunes as well as pleasures together, I learned from a pair
-of storks I observed on a pool in South Nubia, to whom my attention
-was attracted because they were there at a time long after all others
-of their species had sought a refuge in the interior of Africa. To
-discover the cause of this prolonged stay I had them shot, and I found
-that the female had a broken wing which prevented her travelling
-farther, and that the male, himself thoroughly sound, had remained,
-for love of her, in a region where all the conditions of comfortable
-wintering were awanting. The close and faithful bond between pairing
-birds is severed only by death.
-
-This is the rule, but it is subject to exceptions. Even among
-monogamous birds unfaithfulness occurs sometimes, though rarely.
-Firmly as the females are wont to keep faith with their mates, and
-little as they are inclined to cast furtive glances at other males,
-or even to accept them as friends when they obtrude themselves, the
-specially brilliant gifts of some stranger may exercise a seductive
-influence. A master-singer who far surpasses the husband in song, an
-eagle who excels in all or at least in many respects the one selected
-by a female, may seriously disturb the happiness of a nightingale
-or eagle marriage, may perhaps even entice the female away from her
-rightful spouse. This is evidenced by the bachelors who fly about
-before and during the brooding-time, intruding audaciously into the
-domain of a wedded pair and boldly sueing for the favour of the female,
-and by the jealous fights which begin at once between the lawful
-husband and the intruder, and which are usually fought out without
-the aid of the female. The conduct of a suddenly widowed female, who
-not only immediately consoles herself by pairing again, but sometimes
-even accepts the assassin of her first mate, points, at least to a
-certain extent, in the same direction. On the roof of the manor of
-Ebensee, near Erfürt, there brooded for years a pair of storks who,
-though they lived in complete harmony, were never without contests,
-suffering perpetually from the intrusion of strangers, who attempted
-to get possession of nest and female. One spring there came upon the
-scene a male who far surpassed all previous suitors in assertiveness
-and persistence, and forced the paterfamilias to be always fighting,
-or at least to be constantly on the watch. One day, wearied with his
-struggles, he sat upon the nest apparently asleep, with his head
-under his wing, when suddenly the intruder swooped down upon him,
-transfixed him with his bill, and hurled him lifeless from the roof.
-And the widow? She did not drive the infamous assassin from her, but
-unhesitatingly allowed him to fill his victim’s place, and went on with
-her brooding as if nothing had happened.
-
-This and the facts already mentioned are not to the credit of the
-females, but I should like to emphasize that they are so much
-outweighed by the evidence on the other side, that they must be
-considered as exceptions which prove the rule. And if the females
-should be judged apparently or actually guilty, it must not be
-forgotten that the males, with far more reason to be faithful than
-the less numerous females, sometimes forget their conjugal ties.
-Whoever thoroughly knows pigeons, which are erroneously regarded as
-the type of all conceivable virtues, is aware that they are far from
-deserving the reputation which has been handed down in the legends of
-the ancients. Their tenderness is captivating, but it is not constant;
-their faithfulness to wife and children is extolled, but it does not
-stand a test. Quite apart from their unfatherliness, the male pigeons
-are only too often guilty of transgressions against the inviolable
-laws of marriage, and not seldom employ the time in which their mates
-are brooding in dallying with other females. Drakes are even more
-blamable, and the male red-legged partridges are no better. As soon
-as the ducks have settled down to brood, the drakes assemble and pass
-the time together as best they can, leaving their mates to toil, and
-worry, and undertake all the cares for the coming generation, and only
-returning to the ducks, perhaps not to their own mates, when the young
-have grown big and self-reliant and no longer need their help. But
-the red-legged partridges, and probably our partridges also, during
-the pairing-time, put in an appearance wherever another cock announces
-himself in order to fight a round with him, and they are often allured
-and killed by the Spaniards, with the help of tame cocks of their own
-species. Later, however, when brooding has begun and they have no
-longer any inclination to fight, they respond to the call of the hens,
-if possible, more readily than before.
-
-But, as has been said, such cases form exceptions to the rule, and
-cannot be compared in any way with what occurs among polygamous birds.
-Many have tried in vain to explain the polygamy of cowbirds, cuckoos,
-pheasants, woodcocks, turkeys, quails, peacocks, and ruffs, but as
-yet no satisfactory explanation has been offered. To say that the
-cuckoo and its nearest relations do not brood nor live in wedlock
-and rear their own offspring because they must always be ready to
-direct their flight towards a caterpillar horde, wherever that may
-appear, is to talk at large, not to explain--for the cowbirds, too,
-intrust their brood to the care of foster-parents; and with regard to
-the supposition that polygamy, occurring among a few exceptionally
-persecuted species of fowl, is a provision of Nature for securing to
-these a numerous progeny, it is difficult to see why that end might not
-have been attained in the same way as among other fowls, which, though
-monogamous, are not less prolific.[64]
-
-While employing the expression polygamy, I am quite aware that it is
-usual to speak of plurality of wives among birds. Such a state is
-unknown to me, and its existence, to my knowledge, is not corroborated
-by any observations of indisputable accuracy. For the passion is
-mutual, and the longing of the females is as boundless as that of
-the males. The female cuckoo mates with one male to-day and another
-to-morrow, may indeed bestow her affections on several in the course
-of an hour, and the hen yields herself to one cock as readily as to
-another. It is simply out of the question to talk of mating among
-them at all. The males only concern themselves temporarily about the
-females, and the females about the males; each sex goes its own way,
-even separating entirely from the other, and taking no interest in
-its lot beyond the limits of the pairing-time. Boundless desire, and
-consequently excessive jealousy, imperious demands submissively acceded
-to, mad wooing readily accepted, and thereafter complete indifference
-towards each other, are the main characteristics of the intercourse
-between the sexes of these birds. These explain, too, the fact that
-among them much oftener than among other birds crossing takes place,
-and mongrels or hybrids are produced, which lead a miserable existence,
-and either pine away without progeny, or, by mating with the true
-offspring of the race, lead back to the type again. Cross-pairing does
-indeed occur among other, that is monogamous, birds, but only when
-the absence of a mate of their own species impels them to seek one of
-another; whereas among polygamous birds chance and tempting opportunity
-seem as determinative as such a dilemma.
-
-It may be necessity, the absolute necessity of providing for the brood
-just hatched or still slumbering within the egg, which compels the
-female of monogamous birds to change her widowhood for a new alliance
-more quickly than the male can console himself for the loss of his
-wife. Whether her grief is really less than the widower’s may be
-doubted, emphatically against her though appearances are. Other female
-birds act exactly like the stork on the Ebensee. A pair of magpies
-brooding in our garden were to be killed because we feared for the
-safety of the numerous singing-birds which we protected and encouraged
-in the same garden. At seven o’clock in the morning the male bird was
-shot, and barely two hours later the female had taken another mate;
-in an hour he too fell a victim; at eleven o’clock the female had
-contracted a third alliance. The same thing would have occurred again,
-but that the alarmed female, with her last-annexed mate, flew away from
-the garden. One spring my father shot a cock partridge; the hen flew
-up, but soon alighted and was immediately wooed by another cock, whom
-she accepted without more ado. Tchusi-Schmidthofen took away no fewer
-than twenty males from the nest of a black redstart within eight days,
-and only then left the twenty-times widowed and just as often consoled
-bird to the undisturbed enjoyment of her connubial bliss.
-
-Exactly the opposite of such apparent inconstancy is seen in the case
-of a male bird that has lost his mate. Screaming loudly, complaining
-piteously, demonstrating his grief by voice and actions, he flies
-about the corpse of his loved one, touches it perhaps with his bill
-as though he would move it to rise and fly away with him, raises anew
-his heart-rending cries, which are intelligible even to man; wanders
-within his range from place to place, pausing awhile, calling, coaxing,
-and complaining, now in one favourite spot, now in another; neglects
-to take food, throws himself angrily on other males of his species
-as if he envied them their happiness and would make them share his
-own misfortune; finds no rest anywhere, begins without finishing, and
-acts without knowing what he does. So he goes on for days, perhaps
-weeks, in succession, and often he remains as long as possible on the
-scene of his misfortune, without making any expeditions in search of
-a fresh mate.[65] Certain species, by no means only those parrots so
-appropriately named “inseparables”, but finches and others, even horned
-owls, after such a severe blow lose all joy in life, mourn quietly, and
-literally pine away until released by death.
-
-One of the chief causes, if not the sole cause, of such deep grief may
-be the great difficulty, sometimes the impossibility, of finding and
-winning another mate. The female has often no time for grief, for,
-sooner or later, sometimes immediately, new suitors appear and so
-overwhelm her with attention and tenderness that she must let herself
-be consoled whether she will or not. And if, in addition, anxiety about
-her brood fills her motherly heart, all other thoughts give place to
-that, and no room is left for enduring grief. But if she, too, has a
-difficulty in replacing her loss, she expresses her sorrow no less
-distinctly than the male. But sometimes she does even more, for she may
-voluntarily forego a new alliance. A sparrow widow, carefully observed
-by my father, though she had eggs to hatch, and, later, young ones
-to rear, accepted none of her suitors but remained unmated, and fed
-her clamouring brood alone with indescribable toil. Another touching
-incident proving the grief of widowed birds is vouched for by Eugen
-von Homeyer. The wedded bliss of a pair of storks, nesting on the roof
-of that experienced naturalist’s house, was brought to a sudden end by
-one of those detestable bird-shooters or would-be sportsmen who killed
-the male. The sorrowing widow fulfilled her maternal duties without
-choosing another mate, and migrated in autumn to Africa with her brood
-and others of her species. The following spring she reappeared on
-the old nest, unmated as she had left. She was much wooed, but drove
-all suitors away with vicious digs of her bill; she mended her nest
-busily, but only to preserve her right to occupy it. In autumn she
-migrated with the rest, returning in spring, and proceeding as before.
-This occurred eleven years in succession. In the twelfth, another pair
-attempted to take forcible possession of her nest; she fought bravely
-for her property, but did not attempt to secure it by taking another
-mate. The nest was seized, and she remained single. The interlopers
-retained and made use of the nest, and the rightful owner was seen
-no more, but, as afterwards transpired, she passed the whole summer
-alone in a district about ten miles distant. Scarcely had the other
-storks departed, when she returned to her nest, spent a few days in it,
-and then set out on her journey. She was known throughout the whole
-district as “the solitary”, and her misfortune and behaviour won for
-her the friendly sympathy of all kind-hearted men.
-
-And such behaviour is only the movement of a machine obedient to some
-external guiding force? All these expressions of a warm and living
-emotion which we have depicted occur without consciousness? Believe
-that who can, maintain it who will. We believe and maintain the
-opposite; the conscious happiness of the love and wedded life of birds
-appears to us worthy of our envy.
-
-
-
-
-APES AND MONKEYS.
-
-
-Sheikh Kemal el Din Demiri, a learned Arab, who died at Damascus about
-the year 1405, according to our reckoning, relates in his book, _Heiat
-el Heivan_; or, _The Life of Animals_, the following wonderful story,
-which is based on one of the Prophet’s utterances:--
-
- “Long before Mohammed, the Prophet and Messenger of God the
- All-merciful, had kindled the light of Faith, before Issa or Jesus
- of Nazareth had lived and taught, the town Aila, on the Red Sea, was
- inhabited by a numerous population who professed the Jewish faith.
- But they were sinners and unrighteous in the eyes of the Lord, for
- they desecrated continually the sacred day of the All-merciful, the
- Sabbath. In vain did pious and wise men warn the sinful inhabitants
- of the godless city; they disregarded the command of the Almighty
- as before. Then those who had warned them forsook the unholy place,
- shook the dust off their feet, and resolved to serve Elohim elsewhere.
- But, after three days had passed, the longing for home and friends
- drove them back to Aila. There a wonderful sight met their gaze. The
- gates of the town were shut, but the battlements of the walls were
- unguarded, so that they were not hindered from climbing over them. But
- the streets and market-place of the unhappy town were deserted. Where
- formerly the restless sea of human life had surged and swelled, where
- buyers and sellers, priests and officials, artisans and fishermen, had
- mingled in a motley throng, gigantic baboons now sat and crouched,
- ran and climbed; and from the windows and recesses, the terraces and
- roofs, where dark-eyed women had tarried, she-baboons now looked
- down upon the streets. And all the giant monkeys and their comely
- mates were sad and downcast, and they gazed with troubled eyes on the
- returned pilgrims, pressing closely to them with complaining moans and
- prayerful cries. With surprise and sadness the pious pilgrims gazed
- upon the strange sight, until to one of them came the comfortless
- thought that these might be their former relatives degraded to
- monkeys. To make certain, the wise man went straight to his own house.
- In the door of it, likewise, there sat a baboon; but this one, when
- he saw the righteous man, cast his eyes with pain and shame to the
- ground. ‘Tell me, by Allah the All-merciful, O Baboon,’ said the wise
- man, ‘art thou my son-in-law Ibrahim?’ And sadly the baboon answered,
- ‘Eva, Eva’ (I am). Then all doubt vanished from the mind of the pious
- man, and he recognized that, by God’s heavy judgment, the impious
- Sabbath-breakers had been transformed into ‘monkeys’.”
-
-Sheikh Kemal el Din does not indeed venture to call this miracle in
-question, but as a thinking man he cannot refrain from expressing the
-opinion that perhaps the baboons may have existed before there were any
-Jews.
-
-We, for our part, prettily imagined and related as the story is,
-accept this interpretation the more readily, that the apes with which
-the pious zealots of Aila may have had to do are old acquaintances of
-ours. For in Arabia there occur only the Hamadryas or sacred baboons;
-and we find the same excellently depicted on very ancient Egyptian
-monuments. It was the arrangement of their hair which appeared to the
-ancient Egyptians so remarkable that they chose it as a model for their
-sphinxes; while to this day it serves as a pattern for the coiffure of
-the dusky beauties of the Eastern Soudan. The sacred baboon holds a
-very important place in ancient Egyptian theology, as we learn, among
-other things, from Horapollon, interpreter of hieroglyphs. According
-to him the monkey was kept in the temples and embalmed after death.
-He was considered the inventor of writing, and was therefore not only
-sacred to Thoth or Mercury, the founder of all science, but a near
-relative of the Egyptian priests, and, on his ceremonious entrance into
-the sanctuary, he was subjected to an examination, in which the priest
-thrust a writing tablet, ink, and pen into his hand, and called upon
-him to write, that they might see whether he were worthy to be received
-or not. It was also maintained that he stood in secret relations with
-the moon, and that the latter exercised an extraordinary influence over
-him; and, finally, he was credited with the faculty of dividing time in
-so obvious a manner, that Trismegistus took his actions as the model
-after which he constructed his water-clock, which, like the monkey,
-divided day and night into twelve equal parts.
-
-It is worthy of note that, while the ancient Egyptians regarded a
-relationship with the monkeys as probable, they did not deem it
-possible that they should be descended from a monkey stock. Such a view
-of the degree of relationship between man and monkey is first met with
-among the Indians. From very ancient times until the present day there
-has prevailed among them a belief that at least a few royal families
-are descended from one of the sacred monkeys, the Hanumân or Entellus,
-which, in India, is held as sacred, in a certain sense even as divine,
-and that the souls of departed kings return to the bodies of these
-monkeys. One of the reigning families, in particular, shows its pride
-in this descent through its adopted title of honour--“tailed Rana”.[66]
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 42.--Entellus Monkeys (_Semnopithecus Entellus_).]
-
-Similar views to those prevailing among the Indians have come into
-vogue among ourselves in recent times, and the monkey question, which I
-should like to discuss shortly, yet so as to be generally understood,
-has raised much dust. A scientific question, of little general interest
-to the laity, has not only fanned pious anger to blazing flames, but
-has divided serious naturalists into two different parties who defend
-their respective positions with excited warmth. Circles, altogether
-alien to scientific investigation, have taken up the strife, without
-knowing or suspecting its real import and bearing, have even carried
-it into realms where it could only be productive of mischief, and have
-thereby caused a confusion which will not readily be cleared up. To
-discuss monkeys at all has therefore become a bold undertaking, for,
-in speaking of them, one runs a risk either of degrading the reputed
-ancestor, or, through him, of offending the supposed descendants--to
-say nothing of the inevitable abuse of the most pitiable kind which
-ill-mannered fanatics, blindly struggling against the spirit of the
-age, hurl at him who ventures to utter the word monkey. Nevertheless,
-the monkey question will not readily disappear from the order of the
-day; for these animals, so evidently our nearest relatives in the
-animal kingdom, are much too deserving of our sympathy, to allow of our
-being deterred by sentimental considerations from investigating their
-life and habits and comparing them with our own, that we may so enlarge
-our knowledge at once of monkeys and of men.
-
-The following is a contribution to such knowledge:-
-
-A general life-picture such as I wish to sketch is not easily condensed
-into few words, since the different species of monkeys vary so widely.
-There are about four hundred, or, at any rate, considerably more
-than three hundred species, and they inhabit every part of the world
-with the single exception of Australia; but they are found chiefly
-in the countries within the tropics. In America their range extends
-from twenty-eight degrees of southern latitude to the Caribbean Sea;
-in Africa it stretches from thirty-five degrees southern latitude
-to the Straits of Gibraltar; in Europe their occurrence is limited
-to the Rock of Gibraltar, where, from time immemorial, a troop of
-about twenty magots or Barbary macaques have existed, and are now
-protected and preserved by the garrison of the Fort.[67] Forests and
-rocky mountains, which they ascend to a height of more than 8000
-feet, are their favourite habitats. In such places they remain, with
-the exception of a few species, year in year out, giving heed to the
-rotation of the seasons only to the extent of undertaking more or less
-extensive expeditions through the forest in search of ripening fruits,
-or ascending the mountains at the beginning of the warm season, and
-descending again before cold weather sets in; for, though they may be
-met with even in snow-covered regions, they are as fond of warmth
-as they are of abundant and varied diet. Something to bite and crack
-there must be if they are to remain permanently or for any length of
-time in a place; failing that, they shift their quarters. Woods in
-the neighbourhood of human settlements are to them a paradise; the
-forbidden tree therein troubles them not at all. Maize and sugar-cane
-fields, orchards, banana, plantain, and melon plantations they regard
-as their rightful and peculiar feeding-grounds, and districts where
-they are protected by the piety of the inhabitants they also consider
-very agreeable places of abode.
-
-All monkeys, with perhaps the exception of the so-called anthropoid
-apes, live in bands of considerable strength under the leadership
-of an old male. The occupant of this post of dignity rises to it by
-recognized all-round ability; the strongest arms and longest teeth
-decide the matter. While among those mammals which are led by a
-female member of the herd the rest obey willingly, the monkey-leader
-is an absolute despot of the worst type, who compels his subjects to
-unconditional obedience. If anyone refuses submission, he is brought to
-a sense of his duty by bites, pinchings, and blows. The monkey-leader
-requires the most slavish submission from all the monkeys of his herd,
-females as well as males. He shows no chivalry towards the weaker
-sex--“In Sturm erringt er der Minne Sold”.
-
-His discipline is strict, his will unbending. No young monkey dare
-presume to make love to one of the females of his herd; no female
-may venture to show favour to any male except himself. He rules
-despotically over his harem, and his seed, like that of Abraham,
-Isaac, and Jacob, is like the sand of the sea-shore for multitude.
-If the herd becomes too large, a troop separates itself, under the
-leadership of a full-grown male, to form a new community. Till then
-the leader is obeyed by all, and is as much honoured as feared. Old
-experienced mothers, as well as young scarcely grown-up females, strive
-to flatter him; exerting themselves especially to show him continually
-that highest favour one monkey can render to another--cleansing his
-hairy coat from all things not appertaining thereto. He, on his part,
-accepts such homage with the demeanour of a pasha whose favourite
-slave tickles his feet. The esteem which he has been able to evoke
-gives him confidence and dignity of bearing; the battles in which
-he has constantly to take part give him watchfulness, courage, and
-self-control; the necessity of maintaining his authority develops
-circumspection, astuteness, and cunning. These qualities are certainly
-used in the first place for his own advantage, but the rest of the
-community also benefit by them, and his unchallenged supremacy thus
-receives some justification and stability. Ruled and guided by him, the
-herd, though violent storms may rage within it, leads on the whole a
-very secure, and therefore a comfortable life.
-
-All monkeys, except the few nocturnal species, are active by day and
-rest at night. Some time after sunrise they awake from sleep. Their
-first business is to sun and clean themselves. If the night is cold
-and inhospitable, they attempt to improve their comfortless couch by
-thronging together in a heap, or rather a cluster; but are still so
-cold in the morning that a long sun-bath seems absolutely necessary. As
-soon as the dew is dry, they leave their sleeping-places, climb to the
-tree-top or to the highest point of the rock, select a sunny seat, and
-leisurely turn themselves about on it till every part of their bodies
-has been exposed to the sun. When the fur is dried and thoroughly warm
-it is ready for cleaning, and each monkey sets to work eagerly and
-carefully, or requests and receives from one of his fellows the service
-which he, in his turn, is always ready to do to others.
-
-When the fur has been cleaned, and, if necessary, brushed into
-sleekness, the monkeys begin to think of breakfast. This presents no
-difficulty, for they refuse nothing that is edible, and a tax is levied
-on the animal and the vegetable kingdom alike. Forest and mountainous
-districts afford fruits, leaf and flower buds, birds’ nests with eggs
-or young, snails and grubs; gardens yield fruit and vegetables, fields
-supply cereals and pulses. Here a ripening ear is broken off, there a
-juicy fruit is gathered, in the tree a bird’s nest is plundered, on the
-ground a stone is turned over, in a settlement a garden is stripped or
-a field robbed, and something is carried away from all. If he has time,
-every single monkey destroys ten times as much as he eats, and can
-therefore very materially damage the produce of the farmer, gardener,
-or fruit-grower. At the beginning of an expedition each monkey, in
-his anxiety to secure himself a meal whatever may happen, devours
-almost indiscriminately whatever he can reach; then, if he possesses
-cheek-pouches, he stuffs these as full as possible; but as soon as his
-most pressing necessities are relieved, he selects and criticises every
-bite, carefully examining and smelling every fruit he plucks, every ear
-he breaks, before eating it, and indeed in most cases simply throwing
-one thing after another carelessly away to seize something different,
-which as often as not is rejected in its turn. “We sow, and the monkeys
-reap,” the inhabitants of the Eastern Soudan complained to me, and
-with justice. Against thieves like these, neither fence nor wall, lock
-nor bolt, are sufficient protection; they climb the first, and open
-the last; and what they cannot eat they carry away. It is at once
-amusing and painful to watch them feeding, for then, as at all times,
-their behaviour is a mixture of boldness and artfulness, bravado and
-cunning, love of enjoyment and caution, and indeed also of trickery and
-spitefulness, impudence and malevolence. All their skill and dexterity
-is brought into play when an undertaking seems dangerous. They run,
-climb, leap, if need be even swim to overcome obstacles; but in no case
-do they forget their care for their individual safety. The commander
-always leads the way, and coaxes, calls, chides, warns, cries, scolds,
-and punishes as seems to him good; the herd follows and obeys, but
-without ever entirely trusting him. In danger every member of the
-herd looks out for its own safety, rejoining the leader after that is
-assured; the mothers with a young one at their breasts, or on their
-backs, are an exception, for they are, or seem to be, less concerned
-about their own safety than that of their child.
-
-When their expeditions are not attended with danger they often rest,
-and give the young ones opportunity to amuse themselves together; but
-when there is any danger they finish their expedition and then enjoy
-a period of rest and relaxation, during which they often indulge in
-a siesta to help their digestion. In the afternoon they set out on
-another foraging expedition; towards sundown they repair to their
-usual sleeping-place, which is as far as possible out of the reach of
-beasts of prey, and, after prolonged wrangling and disputing, scolding
-and brawling, they seek their well-earned rest.
-
-Apart from occasional compulsory or apparently profitable migrations,
-the order of the day above described suffers little change.
-Reproduction, which brings about such marked changes in the lives
-of other animals, has very little influence on that of the monkeys,
-for it is limited to no special time, and the mothers carry their
-young ones with them wherever they go. The young ones, of which
-most species produce only one at a birth, come into the world as
-well-developed creatures, with open eyes, but according to our ideas
-they are extremely ugly, and, notwithstanding their comparatively
-advanced development, very helpless creatures.[68] They appear ugly
-because their wrinkled faces and wide open, lively eyes give them the
-expression of an old man, and their short hair makes their long fore
-limbs look longer than they really are; they show themselves helpless
-in that they can make no use of these limbs except to attach themselves
-to their mother’s breast. Here they hang, with arms and hands round her
-neck, legs and feet round her hips, without seeming to move anything
-but their heads for weeks together, and the mother is therefore able,
-without being appreciably burdened, to go about her ordinary affairs,
-and wanders as usual along the most breakneck paths, or indulges in
-the boldest leaps. After some time, rarely within a month, the little
-ones begin to attempt some movements, but perform them so awkwardly
-that they excite pity rather than laughter. Perhaps because of this
-very helplessness, the little monsters are watched and handled by their
-mothers with such tenderness that the expression “monkey-love” is fully
-justified. Every monkey mother finds constant occupation in looking
-after her baby. Now she licks it, now cleans its coat, now lays it to
-her breast, now holds it in both hands as if she wished to feast her
-eyes on it, and now she rocks it as if to lull it to sleep. If she
-sees that she is watched she turns away, as if she grudged anyone else
-a sight of her darling. When it is older and able to move about it is
-sometimes allowed to leave its mother’s breast for a little, and to
-play with others like itself, but it remains meanwhile under strict
-control, and, if it does not obey instantly, is punished with slaps
-and pinches. The maternal care extends even to the food. Greedy as the
-mother generally is, she divides every bite with her young one, yet she
-does not allow it to hurt itself by too hasty or immoderate eating, but
-interferes, in such a case, with motherly prudence. But there is rarely
-any necessity for such interference or for severe punishment, for the
-monkey-child is obedient enough to be held up as an example to many a
-human one. Very touching is the conduct of the mother when her little
-one is obviously suffering; if it dies she is in despair. For hours,
-even days, she carries the little corpse about with her, refuses all
-nourishment, sits indifferently in the same spot, and often literally
-pines to death.[69] The young monkey itself is incapable of such deep
-grief, and it is also better taken care of than most other animals if
-it loses its mother. For the next best member of the band, whether male
-or female, possessed by that love of mothering something, which is
-strong in all monkeys, takes charge of the little orphan and caresses
-it warmly. Unfortunately, however, the foster-parent is often at war
-with its better self about its beloved food, and it may leave a young
-one, not old enough to help itself, to pine with hunger, perhaps even
-to die of starvation.
-
-It is difficult, if not impossible, to say anything of general
-application about the talents of monkeys, because these vary as
-widely as the animals themselves. Some traits are indeed common to
-all, but most of their characteristics vary considerably in the
-different species. A disposition which in one is scarcely observable is
-pronounced in another, a trait which is prominent here is sought for
-in vain there. But if we compare the different families, groups, and
-species together, we shall observe a surprising, because unsuspected
-gradation of talents and abilities. It is instructive to proceed in
-this way.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 43.--Common Marmoset or Ouistiti (_Hapale
-Jacchus_).]
-
-We must regard the graceful, little, clawed monkeys or marmosets of
-South and Central America as the least developed members of the monkey
-order. They have the same dentition as the higher monkeys, but they
-have flat nails only on the large toe, while on all the other toes
-and the fingers they have narrow claw-like nails, which place their
-hands and feet, or the former at any rate, on the level of paws. These
-outward features correspond to their mental endowments. Monkeyhood,
-we may say, has not reached its full development in the family of
-marmosets. Not only in form and colour, but in their carriage, in their
-whole character and behaviour, even in their voice, they remind us of
-the rodents. They seldom sit upright, and at the best are rather like
-squirrels than like other monkeys; they prefer to stand on all-fours
-with the body horizontal; they do not climb easily and freely, with
-hands and feet clasping the branch, like others of their order, but,
-sticking their claws into it, they press close to it and glide along,
-not of course slowly or unskilfully, but rather as rodents than as
-monkeys. Their voice, too, is quite different from that of all the
-higher monkeys; it is a whistling in high notes which now reminds
-one of the chirping of a bird, now of the squeaking of rats and
-mice, but perhaps most of all of the sound made by the guinea-pig.
-Their behaviour generally is decidedly rodent-like. They exhibit the
-uneasiness and restlessness, the curiosity, shyness, and timidity,
-the inconstancy of squirrels. Their little heads only remain a few
-seconds in one position, and their dark eyes are directed now towards
-this object now towards that, but always hastily, and obviously
-without comprehension, although they seem to look out on the world
-intelligently enough. Every action they perform shows their slight
-power of judgment. As if without will, they act on the suggestion of
-the moment; they forget what they have just been doing as soon as their
-attention is diverted, and they prove just as fickle in the expression
-of their contentment as of their displeasure. At one moment they are
-good-humoured, apparently quite satisfied with their lot, perhaps
-grateful for caresses from a friendly hand, the next they are snarling
-at their keeper just as if their lives were in danger, showing their
-teeth, and trying to bite. As irritable and excitable as all monkeys
-and rodents, they yet lack the individuality which every higher monkey
-exhibits, for one acts exactly like another, without originality and
-always in a somewhat commonplace fashion. They have all the attributes
-of cowards--the complaining voice, the reluctance to adapt themselves
-to the inevitable, the whining acceptance of all circumstances, the
-morbidly suspicious habit of finding in every action of another
-creature some hostility to themselves, the desire to swagger while in
-reality they carefully keep out of the way of every real or supposed
-danger, and an incapacity either to make resolutions or to carry them
-out. Just because there is so little of the true monkey about them they
-are preferred by women and despised by men.
-
-On a decidedly higher level stand the Broad-nosed or New-World
-monkeys, which also inhabit America, though even in these, the full
-character of the true monkey is not attained. The dentition numbers
-a molar more on each side of the jaws than in the higher apes, thus
-there are thirty-six teeth instead of thirty-two; all the fingers
-and toes have flat nails; the body seems more slender than it is,
-because the limbs are very long; the tail is used, in many cases, as
-a powerful grasping-organ. The one-sidedness of their development is
-very characteristic. Exclusively arboreal like the marmosets, they are
-awkward, even clumsy when away from the branches of the trees. On the
-ground their gait is extremely ungainly, uncertain, and tottering,
-particularly in those species which have a prehensile tail, but even
-their climbing does not come at all near that of the Old-World monkeys.
-For increase of the number of organs of locomotion does not necessarily
-result in increased power, still less in greater variety of movement;
-on the contrary, it often means one-sidedness, and it certainly does
-so in the case of the New-World monkeys. Their prehensile tail is not
-to them a fifth, but a first hand, used in hanging or fixing the body,
-in lifting things or dragging them along, and so on; but it does not
-make their movements more rapid or free, it adds to safety but not to
-agility. Thanks to the constant use of the tail, its owner never runs
-a risk of falling from the lofty branches--safe because high--to the
-dangerous ground beneath, but neither is he able to make any free or
-daring movement. Slowly he sends his prehensile tail in advance of
-every step, always catching hold with it first, and only then letting
-go with hands or feet. Thus he binds himself to the branch rather than
-climbs upon it, and never thinks of attempting a leap whose success
-is in the least doubtful. In this constant carefulness for his own
-precious person the broad-nosed monkey impresses one not so much with
-his prudence as with his slowness, and it is noteworthy that the whole
-character of the New-World monkeys bears this out. Their voice is not
-quite so monotonous as that of the marmosets, but it is unpleasant,
-not to say tiresome. It runs through many grades, from a whine to a
-roar, but it has, invariably, a mournful character, and the whole
-demeanour of the animal, when it cries, is pessimistic. After a cool,
-dewy night, the morning sun shines warm and golden through the trees,
-and a thousand-toned song of joy and greeting leaps forth in welcome
-from a million throats. The howlers prepare to offer their tribute of
-praise also. But how? They have climbed to the dry top branches of a
-giant tree which rises high above its fellows, have fastened themselves
-securely by their tails, and are warming themselves comfortably in
-the sunshine. Then a feeling of well-being moves them to raise their
-voices. One of them, distinguished, it is said, by a specially high,
-shrill voice, acts as leader, and, looking fixedly at his companions,
-begins to chant. The rest look at him with the same motionless vacant
-stare and join in; and frightfully their song resounds through the
-forest, now grunting, now howling, now snarling, now rattling, as
-if all the beasts of the forest were waging deadly warfare. The
-astounding performance begins with a bellowing solo; these bellowings
-become louder, follow each other more rapidly as the excitement of
-the singer--which is probably present though not apparent--increases
-and spreads to other members of the community; then they change into
-howling and roaring, and they end as they began. If one looks at the
-long-bearded, serious singers one can scarcely keep from smiling;
-but soon the indescribable discords they produce become as wearisome
-as their monotonous climbing, or rather creeping movements. What one
-does another imitates, but whatever they may do, howsoever they may
-act, their behaviour is always monotonous. Very much like these, or
-not essentially different, are all the monkeys with prehensile tails;
-though a few prominent members of the family, the Capuchin monkeys for
-instance, are rather more free and independent. In general, they are as
-heavy mentally as physically--usually very gentle, good-natured, and
-confiding, but stupid, peevish, fretful, and some of them obstinate,
-malicious, and spiteful. They thus stand considerably higher than the
-marmosets, but far below the Old-World monkeys. Probably it would
-hardly be doing them injustice to say that they possess the bad
-qualities without the good qualities of their Old-World cousins. Their
-gentleness and good-nature--apart from the fact that these are not
-found in all the species, do not in the least make up for their general
-lack of enterprise, boldness, cheerfulness, liveliness, and decision,
-circumspection and ingenuity--qualities which place the Old-World
-monkeys so high--while their everlasting whining and complaining
-counterbalance, in our eyes, all the qualities which might attract us
-to them.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 44.--Red Howling Monkeys (_Mycetes seniculus_).]
-
-The monkeys of the Old World, like those of the New, fall into two
-groups to which the rank of families may perhaps be granted, although
-the dentition is essentially alike in both. We call the one type
-Dog-like, the other Man-like, and we may go the length of saying that
-the former teach us what monkeyhood really is, while the latter rise
-above it. For the first group especially, my opening remarks hold
-good. Among them we find monkeys beautiful and ugly, attractive and
-repulsive, lively and serious, good-natured and malicious. Really
-misshapen monkeys there are none, for we must admit that even those
-which appear to us ugly are symmetrical in form. Yet some of them
-are, in many respects, odd-looking creatures. Their chief external
-characteristics are, the more or less protruding muzzle, reminding one
-of a dog’s, the proportionately short arms, the tail, always present
-though often shortened to a mere stump, the more or less developed
-ischial callosities, and the cheek-pouches present in most species. The
-dentition includes the usual number of thirty-two teeth arranged in an
-unbroken series. They occur in all three continents of the Old World,
-and are most numerous in Africa.
-
-Their endowments and characteristics place them far above the marmosets
-and New-World monkeys. They usually walk very well, though some
-of them hobble along in a comical fashion; they are able, without
-difficulty, to stand on their legs alone, thus raising themselves to
-their full height, and in that position they can walk more or less
-easily. They climb well under all circumstances, though some do so only
-among trees, others among the rocks; some of them are also excellent
-swimmers. The climbing of the arboreal species is almost like flight,
-if I may so speak--for their skill among the branches surpasses all
-expectation. Leaps of from eight to ten yards are to them quite
-possible achievements. From the topmost boughs of a tree they leap to
-a lower one, which is forcibly bent downwards by the shock, from this
-at the moment of rebound they give themselves a strong impetus, and,
-stretching tail and hind-legs out behind them to steer their course,
-shoot like an arrow through the air. The branch of a tree, even if it
-be covered with the sharpest thorns, is to them a well-made road, a
-climbing plant is a path or a ladder according to its position. They
-climb forwards or backwards, on the under or upper side of a branch;
-in leaping or falling they catch a thin twig with one hand, and remain
-hanging as long as they please in every imaginable position; then they
-climb leisurely on the branch, and proceed on their way as coolly as
-if they were on level ground. If the hand misses the desired twig it
-is caught by the foot; if it breaks under the sudden shock they catch
-in falling at a second, a third, and if all break they spring to
-the ground, no matter the distance, and climb up again by the first
-available trunk or climbing-plant. Compared with the clinging and
-creeping of their relatives in the New World theirs appears, and really
-is, a free, unfettered motion which surmounts all obstacles. The former
-are blunderers, the latter finished artists; the former slaves of the
-trees, the latter lords of the branches.
-
-Their voice is as highly developed as their power of movement. Theirs
-is no chirping or whistling, no whining or howling; on the contrary,
-they utter many different sounds expressing the mood of the moment,
-and quite intelligible even to us. Comfort or discomfort, desire or
-satisfaction, good-will or ill-will, love or hate, indifference or
-anger, joy or pain, confidence or mistrust, attraction or repugnance,
-affection or dislike, submissiveness or defiance, but above all any
-sudden emotion, such as fear or horror, find adequate expression,
-comparatively limited though the voice may be.[70]
-
-What we may call their mental endowments correspond to their physical
-powers. It may be well to emphasize that the hand, which among them
-first attains to full development, gives them a considerable advantage
-over other animals, and makes some of their actions appear more
-remarkable than they really are; for instance, it renders them capable
-of many skilful devices which would be impossible to a dog and to any
-of those animals which we are wont to reckon among the cleverest of
-mammals. A high degree of deliberateness must be conceded to them.
-Their excellent memory treasures up the most various impressions, and
-their discriminating intelligence makes these a store of experiences,
-which are turned to good account as opportunity offers. Thus they
-act with full consciousness of what they are doing, according
-to circumstances, and not as impotent slaves of a power outside
-themselves, but with independence, freedom, and variety, cunningly
-seizing every advantage, and making use of every expedient which they
-believe will further their end. They distinguish between cause and
-effect, and attempt to achieve or nullify the latter by applying or
-removing the former. They not only recognize what benefits or injures
-them, but they know whether they do right or wrong, judging either
-from the standard of some loved one, or that of some master.[71] It
-is not blind chance, but a recognition of what is profitable that
-regulates and guides their actions, makes them submit to the judgment
-of the most capable, moves them to live and act together, teaches
-them to form communities for the weal or woe of the individual, to
-share joy and sorrow, good fortune and misfortune, safety and danger,
-plenty and scarcity,--in other words, to form an alliance based on
-reciprocity--which teaches them to employ powers and means not theirs
-by inheritance, and, finally, presses into their hands weapons with
-which Nature did not supply them. Passions of all kinds, it is true,
-often gain a victory over their circumspection; but these very passions
-are proof of the liveliness of their sensations, or, what comes to
-the same thing, of their mental activity. They are as susceptible as
-children, as irritable as weak-minded men, and thus very sensitive
-to every kind of treatment they may receive; to love and dislike,
-to encouraging praise and chilling blame, to pleasant flattery and
-wounding ridicule, to caresses and chastisement. Nevertheless they are
-not so easily managed, still less so easily trained to anything, as
-a dog or any other clever domestic animal, for they are self-willed
-in a high degree, and almost as conceited as human beings. They learn
-without difficulty, but only when they wish to, and by no means
-always when they ought to, for their self-conceit rebels against any
-submission which they do not see to be to their own advantage. They
-are quite aware that they are liable to be punished, and may loudly
-express their disapprobation of the expected chastisement beforehand,
-yet still refuse to do what is required of them; while, on the other
-hand, they will execute it willingly and with the liveliest expressions
-of understanding, when the task happens to suit their humour. Whoever
-ventures to doubt their self-esteem has only to watch their way
-of treating other animals. Unless terrified by their strength and
-dangerousness, they invariably regard other animals as playthings,
-whether they tease them and play tricks upon them, or fondle them and
-load them with caresses.
-
-Some examples, for which I myself can vouch, or which I know to be
-thoroughly authentic, may strengthen the assertions I have just made.
-
-As I was travelling in Bogosland, on my first ride into the mountains
-I fell in with a large band of the Hamadryas baboons, referred to by
-Sheikh Kemal el Din Demiri in his narrative. Drying their streaming
-hair in the sunshine, they sat picturesquely grouped on the highest
-points of a cliff, and, on being greeted with rifle bullets, they
-beat an organized retreat and fled. Continuing my journey through
-the narrow, winding, rocky valley of the Mensa, I came upon them
-some time later, this time in the valley itself, just as they were
-preparing to ascend the rocky wall of the other side to seek safety
-from such annoying disturbances. A considerable number had already
-crossed the valley; the majority were in the act of crossing. Our dogs,
-beautiful, slender greyhounds, accustomed to fight successfully with
-hyænas and other beasts of prey, rushed towards the baboons, which,
-from a distance, looked more like beasts of prey than monkeys, and
-drove them hastily up the precipices to right and left. But only the
-females took to flight; the males, on the other hand, turned to face
-the dogs, growled, beat the ground fiercely with their hands, opened
-their mouths wide and showed their glittering teeth, and looked at
-their adversaries so furiously and maliciously that the hounds, usually
-bold and battle-hardened, shrank back discomfited, and almost timidly
-sought safety beside us. Before we had succeeded in stirring them up
-to show fight, the position of the monkeys had changed considerably,
-and when the dogs charged a second time nearly all the herd were in
-safety. But one little monkey about half a year old had been left
-behind. It shrieked loudly as the dogs rushed towards it, but succeeded
-in gaining the top of a rock before they had arrived. Our dogs placed
-themselves cleverly, so as to cut off its retreat, and we hoped that
-we might be able to catch it. But that was not to be. Proudly and with
-dignity, without hurrying in the least, or paying any heed to us,
-an old male stepped down from the security of the rocks towards the
-hard-pressed little one, walked towards the dogs without betraying
-the slightest fear, held them in check with glances, gestures, and
-quite intelligible sounds, slowly climbed the rock, picked up the
-baby-monkey, and retreated with it, before we could reach the spot,
-and without the visibly disconcerted dogs making the slightest attempt
-to prevent him. While the patriarch of the troop performed this brave
-and self-sacrificing deed, the other members, densely crowded on the
-cliff, uttered sounds which I had never before heard from baboons. Old
-and young, males and females, roared, screeched, snarled, and bellowed
-all together, so that one would have thought they were struggling with
-leopards or other dangerous beasts. I learned later that this was
-the monkeys’ battle-cry: it was intended obviously to intimidate us
-and the dogs, possibly also to encourage the brave old giant, who was
-running into such evident danger before their eyes.[72]
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 45.--Old Baboon Rescuing Young One.]
-
-A few days later I learned by experience that these self-reliant
-animals are a match even for men. On our return from the Bogosland, we
-fell in with a large herd, possibly the same one, and we opened fire
-upon them from the valley with seven double rifles. Our shots had an
-indescribable effect. The same battle-cry which I had heard before
-rang out again, and, as if at the command of a general, they prepared
-for resistance. While the screaming females with the young ones fled
-in all haste over the crest of the rock beyond range of our guns, the
-adult males, casting furious glances, beating the ground with their
-hands, and barking rather than roaring, sprang upon projecting stones
-and ledges, looked down on the valley for a few moments, continually
-growling, snarling, or screaming, and then began to roll stones down
-upon us with so much vigour and adroitness that we immediately saw
-that our lives were in danger and took to flight. If it had not been
-possible for us to clamber up the opposite wall of the narrow valley,
-and so to escape the monkeys’ fire, we should have been utterly routed.
-The clever animals not only conducted their defence on a definite plan,
-but they acted in co-operation, striving for a common end, and exerting
-all their united strength to attain it. One of our number saw one
-monkey drag his stone up a tree that he might hurl it down with more
-effect; I myself saw two combining their strength to set a heavy stone
-a-rolling.
-
-No animals but the higher apes adopt such means of defence, and
-no other male animal runs into danger to rescue a helpless young
-one of his species. Such traits must not be ignored, and cannot be
-misinterpreted, for they speak for themselves better and more loudly
-than all the sophistical analysis which refuses to admit that animals
-have intelligence and the power of spontaneous action.
-
-That the dog-like monkeys recognize and distinguish between cause and
-effect can be certified by every unprejudiced observer. They open doors
-and windows, drawers, cupboards, and boxes, untie knots, and overcome
-other obstacles when they have once seen how to set about it; but they
-also invent means to attain similar ends. A female baboon, which I
-brought up in my family, got hold of a kitten with the intention of
-making a pet of it and mothering it, but was scratched by the terrified
-bundling. The monkey carefully examined the kitten’s paws, pressed
-the claws forward, looked at them from above, from beneath, and from
-the side, and then bit them off to secure herself against further
-scratches. My brother and I used to startle the same baboon by pouring
-a little heap of powder on the ground in front of her, and setting
-it alight by means of a piece of burning tinder. The sudden blazing
-up of the powder gave our baboon such a fright every time that she
-screamed loudly and sprang back as far as her tether would allow. After
-this trick had been played upon her several times in succession, she
-protected herself from further annoyance by beating the glowing tinder
-with her hand till the spark was extinguished, and then eating up the
-powder. In another case she conjured up fear and horror for herself.
-Like all monkeys without exception, she regarded creeping things, and
-above all snakes, with a boundless horror which was most amusing. We
-often teased her by putting a snake, live, dead, or stuffed, into a
-broad tin box, which was handed to her closed. After a time she knew
-the box and its contents perfectly, but her curiosity always mastered
-her, and she opened it every time, to run away screaming directly
-afterwards.
-
-Not content with recognizing causes really present, this monkey,
-when she suffered any annoyance, sought for probable ones. Something
-or someone must bear the blame of her discomfort. Thus her anger
-was directed against the first person who came in sight. If she was
-chastised, she was not angry with her master and keeper, but with
-anyone else who was present during her punishment; such a one must have
-been the cause of the harsh treatment she received from her usually
-kind master. She had thus exactly the same suspicions as small-minded
-human beings are apt to have in like circumstances.
-
-Notwithstanding her own extreme sensitiveness to any punishment, even
-if only threatened, and also to quizzing and teasing, the baboon
-in question could never refrain from tormenting, annoying, and even
-ill-treating other animals. Our crabbed old badger-dog was lying
-comfortably in the sun enjoying his mid-day nap. The baboon saw this,
-slipped quietly up to him, looked with a sly twinkle of her little
-eyes into the dog’s face to make sure that he was really asleep,
-then suddenly seized the sleeper’s tail and brought him back with a
-violent pull from dreamland to reality. The dog angrily rushed at the
-disturber of his peace to avenge the insult. But the monkey escaped
-the threatened punishment with a single leap over the advancing dog,
-and in the next instant she had seized the tail and repeated the
-outrage, obviously enjoying the powerlessness of her furious opponent,
-until the latter, almost beside himself with anger and excitement,
-unable even to bark, but gasping and foaming, tucked his tail between
-his legs and fled, leaving the enemy in possession of the field. If
-the baboon could have laughed, the parallel between her behaviour
-and that of a mischievous boy would have been complete. As it was,
-the scorn and ridicule with which the vanquished dog was overwhelmed
-were intelligible enough. The baboon herself took teasing very ill,
-would even become furious if laughed at by an unprivileged person, and
-never omitted to take her revenge on the first opportunity, even if
-that should not occur for weeks. But then she was a monkey, and felt
-herself such, therefore regarded a dog as a creature of a lower order,
-her insolence towards which was as pardonable as that of every other
-creature towards herself was reprehensible and worthy of punishment.
-
-Of this self-esteem, or rather over-esteem, the dog-like monkeys give
-daily proofs to every careful observer. The baboon in question, like
-all monkeys, was exceedingly fond of pets, and in particular of a
-long-tailed monkey which shared her cage, and could be trusted even
-out of the cage with it, because it was always by the baboon’s side
-as if under a charm. It slept in her arms, and obeyed her slavishly.
-The baboon expected such obedience and took it as a matter of course;
-but she demanded the most absolute subjection at meal-times. While the
-good-natured and obedient long-tailed monkey unresistingly allowed its
-foster-mother to pick out all the titbits, the latter only left for
-the little one what was absolutely necessary, and if it did succeed
-in storing something in its pouches, simply opened these again and
-appropriated the contents to her own use.
-
-Unbounded as is the arrogance and self-esteem of the dog-like monkeys,
-they are thoroughly well aware when they have done wrong, that is,
-have done something deserving of punishment. Schomburgk gives a most
-instructive example of this. In the Zoological division of the Botanic
-Gardens at Adelaide an old sacred macaque lived in a cage with two
-younger members of the same species, over whom, as a matter of course,
-he ruled despotically. One day, irritated by something or other, he
-attacked his keeper and wounded him dangerously by biting through an
-artery on the wrist. For this Schomburgk condemned him to death, and
-commissioned another keeper to carry out the sentence by shooting
-him. The monkeys were quite accustomed to fire-arms, which were often
-used in the gardens for killing injurious animals, and though they
-knew their effect they were not disquieted in the least when these
-were brought into their immediate neighbourhood. The day after the
-misconduct of the old tyrant the two young monkeys remained quietly
-at the food-trough on the appearance of the keeper intrusted with the
-execution of their comrade, but the criminal himself fled with the
-utmost haste into his sleeping cage, and no amount of coaxing could
-entice him out of it. An attempt was made to lure him forth by setting
-down food; but he did what he had never done before, saw his two
-subjects eat up the dainty fare and did not venture to take part in
-the meal. Not till the suspected keeper had retired did he venture to
-creep forth, seize a few crumbs, and retire in fear and trembling to
-his hiding-place again. At length he was persuaded to come out a second
-time, and the door of his retreat was closed. When he saw the keeper
-with his weapon approaching, he knew that he was lost. Frantically he
-threw himself on the door of his sleeping cage to open it if possible,
-and not succeeding he rushed through the whole cage examining every
-corner and space in the hope of finding a means of escape; at last,
-seeing that there was no possibility of flight, he threw himself
-despairingly on the ground and surrendered himself, his whole body
-trembling and shuddering, to the fate which overtook him a moment later.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 46.--Macaque or Bonnet-monkey (_Macacus sinicus_)
-and Snake.]
-
-It must be admitted that no mammal of any other order, not even the
-dog, who has associated with us, and been educated, and, strictly
-speaking, formed by us for thousands of years, acts in the manner
-described, or exhibits such a high degree of intelligence. And yet a
-wide gulf lies between the dog-like monkeys and the anthropoid apes, of
-which I have said that they rise even above the average of monkeyhood.
-
-By the anthropoid apes we understand those which in their structure
-most resemble man, but are externally distinguished from him by the
-very prominent canine teeth, the relatively long arms and short legs,
-the structure of the hand, the ischial callosities present in some
-species, and the hairy covering of the body. They inhabit the tropical
-countries of Asia and Africa (the former being richer in species),
-and they are divided into three families, of which one is confined
-to Africa. Each of these families embraces only a few species, but
-probably we do not know nearly all of them as yet.
-
-The structure of the anthropoid apes points to an arboreal life;
-they are most excellent climbers, though by no means slaves to the
-tree any more than the langurs, long-tailed monkeys, and macaques.
-Their movements, however, both among the branches and on the ground,
-are quite different from those of all other monkeys. In climbing up
-a tree, particularly a smooth trunk without branches, they take the
-same position as a man would do, but, thanks to their long arms and
-short legs, they make much more rapid progress than the most expert
-human climber; and when they have reached the branches they put every
-gymnast to shame by the variety and security of their movements. With
-outstretched arms they seize one branch, with the feet they clasp a
-parallel one, about half their height lower down, and, using the upper
-branch as a rail, they walk along the lower one so quickly, though
-without the least sign of effort, that a man walking underneath must
-exert himself vigorously to keep pace with them. On reaching the end of
-the branch, they seize any available bough or twig of the next tree and
-proceed on their way in the same manner, with undiminished speed, yet
-without hurry. In ascending they seize hold of any branch strong enough
-to bear their weight, and swing themselves upwards with equal ease
-whether they are holding the branch with both hands or only with one;
-in descending, they let themselves hang with both arms and search about
-for a new foothold. Sometimes they amuse themselves by swinging freely
-for some minutes; sometimes, clasping a branch with arms and feet,
-they walk, for a change, on its lower surface; in short, they assume
-every imaginable position, and execute every possible movement. Quite
-unrivalled masters of climbing are the long-armed apes or gibbons,
-anthropoid apes with arms so disproportionately long that, when
-outstretched, they measure thrice as much as their upright bodies. With
-incomparable speed and security they climb up a tree or bamboo-stem,
-set it, or a suitable branch swinging, and on its rebound spring over
-spaces of from eight to twelve yards, so lightly and swiftly, that they
-seem to fly like a shot arrow or an alighting bird. They are also able
-to alter the direction of a leap while actually springing, or to cut
-it suddenly short by seizing a branch and clinging to it--swinging,
-rocking, and finally climbing up by it, either to rest for a little,
-or to begin the old game anew. Sometimes they spring through the air
-in this manner three, four, or five times in succession, so that one
-almost forgets that they are subject to the law of gravity. Their
-walking is as awkward as their climbing is excellent. Other anthropoid
-apes are able to traverse a considerable distance in an upright
-position--that is, on their feet alone, without special difficulty,
-though when in haste they always fall on all-fours, resting on the
-inturned knuckles of the fingers and the outer edges of the feet, and
-throwing the body laboriously and clumsily forward between the extended
-arms. But the long-armed apes move in an upright position only in cases
-of extreme necessity, and then they hop rather than walk. When the
-distance to be covered is a short one they raise themselves to their
-full height, and preserving their balance by extending their arms,
-now more, now less, spread out the great toes as far as possible, and
-patter pitiably along with short, quick steps. Their power of movement
-must therefore be characterized as one-sided, for their superiority
-over the other anthropoid apes in climbing does not counterbalance
-their helplessness on the ground.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 47.--The Hoolock (_Hylobates leuciscus_), one of
-the Gibbons.]
-
-The voice-power of the anthropoid apes is very noteworthy. We find that
-the most active and agile species have the loudest voices, while those
-of the more widely developed, though less nimble, anthropoid apes are
-capable of greater variety of expression. I do not say too much when I
-assert that I have never heard the voice of any mammal--man, of course,
-always excepted--which was more full-toned and sonorous than that of a
-long-armed ape which I observed in captivity. I was first astonished,
-then delighted, with these deep notes, uttered with full strength, and
-by no means disagreeable, because perfectly clear and well-rounded. In
-one species the ringing call, which I should describe as a song rather
-than a cry, begins on the key-note E, ascends and descends in semitones
-through the chromatic scale for a full octave, sometimes ending with a
-shrill cry, which seems to be uttered with the animal’s whole strength.
-The key-note remains audible throughout, and serves as a grace-note
-to each of the succeeding ones, which, in ascending the scale, follow
-each other more and more slowly, in descending more and more quickly,
-at last with extreme rapidity, but always with perfect regularity. The
-notes of some species of the group are said to be less clear, but all
-are so loud that, in the open air, one can hear them distinctly at a
-distance of an English mile. The same correlation between agility of
-motion and voice-power can be observed in other anthropoid apes. The
-slow-moving, awkward-looking orang-utan utters, as far as I know, only
-a strong, deep throat sound; the lively, active, sprightly chimpanzee,
-with only a few notes, understands so well how to give them variety of
-emphasis and intelligible expression that one is tempted to concede
-to him the power of speech. He does not indeed speak with words, but
-with sounds, and even syllables, of the constancy of whose meaning the
-observer who has much acquaintance with the chimpanzee can have no
-doubt. Other anthropoid apes of the same family are probably not far
-behind him in this respect.
-
-Anyone who wishes to learn to what a height the mental qualities of
-a monkey may reach must select the chimpanzee or one of his nearest
-relatives for observation, and must associate closely with it for a
-lengthened period, as I have done. He will then discover with wonder
-and amazement, perhaps with slight horror, how much the gulf between
-man and beast can be diminished. The other anthropoid apes, too, are
-highly gifted creatures; they, too, surpass all other monkeys in this
-respect; but the talents of the long-armed gibbons or the orang-utans
-do not attain to the same universally intelligible expression--I may
-say, the same impressiveness, as those of the chimpanzees and their
-relatives. They--the pongos, the gorilla, the _tschiego_, and the
-chimpanzee--cannot be treated as animals, but must be associated
-with as men, if their mental powers are to be known and appreciated.
-Their intelligence is not far behind that of a rude, undisciplined,
-uneducated human being. They are, and remain animals, but they behave
-so humanly that one can almost lose sight of the beast.
-
-For years in succession I have kept chimpanzees, have observed them
-closely and, as far as possible, without prejudice, have associated
-intimately with them, taken them into my family, brought them up as
-playmates for my children, let them eat at my table, taught and trained
-them, waited upon them in sickness, and not forsaken them in the hour
-of death. I have therefore a right to believe that I know them as well
-as anyone, and that I am justified in pronouncing an authoritative
-opinion. For these reasons I select the chimpanzee, in order to show to
-what height the mental power of an animal may rise.
-
-The chimpanzee is not only one of the cleverest of all creatures,
-he is a being capable of deliberation and judgment. Everything he
-does is done consciously and deliberately. He imitates, but he does
-so with intelligence and on due consideration; he allows himself to
-be taught, and learns. He knows himself and his surroundings, and
-he can appreciate his position. In association with man he yields
-submission to superior intelligence; in his relations with animals he
-exhibits a self-conceit similar to our own. What is merely hinted at
-among other apes is quite pronounced in him. He regards himself as
-better, as standing higher than other animals, even other monkeys; he
-rates even human beings exactly according to their standing; thus he
-treats children quite differently from grown-up people; the latter he
-respects, the former he looks upon as comrades and equals. He shows
-an interest in animals with which he can form no friendship or other
-tie, and also in objects which have no connection with his natural
-wants; for he is not merely inquisitive, he is greedy of knowledge;
-an object which has attracted his attention increases in value in
-his eyes when he has found out its use. He can draw conclusions, can
-reason from one to another, and apply the results of experience to new
-circumstances, is cunning, even wily, has flashes of wit, and indulges
-in practical jokes, exhibits humours and moods, is entertained in one
-company and bored in another, enters into the spirit of some jokes and
-scorns others, is self-willed but not stubborn, good-natured but not
-wanting in independence. He expresses his emotions like a human being.
-When in a gay mood he smirks with satisfaction, when depressed his
-face is drawn into wrinkles which speak for themselves, and he gives
-utterance to his grief by plaintive sounds. In sickness he behaves
-like one in despair, distorts his face, screams, throws himself on his
-back, beats with his hands and feet, and tears his hair. To a friendly
-voice he responds with sounds expressive of pleasure, to chiding with
-cries of distress. He is active and busy from morning till late in
-the evening, seeks constant occupation, and when he comes to an end of
-his usual employments he invents new ones, even if it should only be
-slapping his feet with his hands, or knocking against hollow boards,
-and thus producing sounds which give him evident pleasure. In a room
-he occupies himself with carefully examining everything that attracts
-his attention, opens drawers and rummages among their contents,
-opens the stove door to look at the fire and shuts it again, holds a
-key properly, stands before the mirror and amuses himself with the
-reflection of his own gestures and grimaces, uses brush and duster as
-he has been taught, puts on blankets and clothing, and so on.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 48.--Chimpanzee (_Troglodytes niger_).]
-
-His acuteness of observation is strikingly proved by his almost
-unfailingly correct judgment of persons. Not only does he recognize
-and distinguish his friends from other people, but well-meaning from
-evil-intentioned persons so thoroughly that the keeper of a chimpanzee
-was convinced that anyone with whom his _protégé_ refused to make
-friends was really a good-for-nothing or a scoundrel. A thorough but
-accomplished hypocrite who deceived me and others was all along a
-horror to our chimpanzee, just as if he had seen through the red-headed
-rascal from the first. Every chimpanzee who has been much in human
-society likes best to be a member of a family circle. There he behaves
-as though he felt himself among equals. He carefully observes the
-manners and customs of the house, notices immediately whether he is
-being watched or not, and does in the former case what he ought to, in
-the latter what pleases him. In contrast to other monkeys, he learns
-very easily and with real eagerness whatever is taught to him, as, for
-instance, to sit upright at table, to eat with knife, fork, and spoon,
-to drink from a glass or cup, to stir the sugar in his tea, to touch
-glasses with his neighbour, to use his napkin, and so on; with equal
-case he becomes accustomed to clothing, beds, and blankets; without
-great difficulty he gains after a time an understanding of human speech
-which far surpasses that of a well-trained dog, for he follows not
-merely the emphasis but the meaning of words, and executes commissions
-or obeys commands with equal correctness. Exceedingly appreciative of
-every caress and flattery, and even of praise, he is equally sensitive
-to unfriendly treatment or blame; he is also capable of deep gratitude,
-and he expresses it by shaking hands or kissing without being asked
-to do so. He evinces a special fondness for children. Being neither
-spiteful nor vicious, he treats children with great friendliness as
-long as they do not tease him, and behaves to helpless infants with
-really touching tenderness, though towards others of his own species,
-monkeys of a different species, and animals generally, he is often
-rough and harsh. I lay special stress on this characteristic, which I
-have observed in every chimpanzee I have brought up, because it seems
-to prove that the chimpanzee recognizes and respects the human even in
-the youngest child.
-
-The behaviour of a sick and suffering anthropoid ape is most touching.
-Begging piteously, almost humanly, he looks into his keeper’s face,
-receives every attempt to help him with warm thanks, and soon looks
-upon the physician as a benefactor, holds out his arm to him, or
-stretches out his tongue as soon as he is told, and even does so of
-his own accord after a few visits from the physician. He swallows
-medicine readily, submits even to a surgical operation, and, in a word,
-behaves very like a human patient in similar circumstances. As his end
-approaches he becomes more gentle, the animal in him is lost sight of,
-and the nobler traits of his character stand out prominently.
-
-The chimpanzee which I kept longest, and with the help of an
-intelligent, animal-loving keeper educated most carefully, was taken
-ill with inflammation of the lungs, accompanied by suppuration of the
-lymphatic glands of the neck. Surgical treatment of the glands was
-found necessary. Two surgeons, friends of mine who were on good terms
-with the chimpanzee, undertook to open the tumour on the neck, the more
-readily that the monkey believed that to be the cause of his suffering,
-and continually guided the surgeon’s hand towards it. But how was the
-necessary operation in such a dangerous spot to be performed without
-imperilling the monkey’s life? Anæsthetics were out of the question
-because of the lung disease, and the attempt to have the chimpanzee
-held down by several strong men had to be abandoned because of his
-intense excitement, and the strenuous resistance he offered. But where
-force failed persuasion succeeded. When the monkey was quieted and
-reassured by the coaxing and endearments of his keeper, he allowed
-a further examination of the swelling, and even submitted, without
-twitching an eyelid or uttering a complaint, to the use of the knife,
-and other painful treatment, including the emptying of the opened
-tumour. When this was done the distressingly laboured breathing became
-instantly less oppressive, an unmistakable expression of relief passed
-over the sufferer’s face, and he gratefully held out his hand to both
-physicians, and embraced his keeper, without having been asked to do
-either.
-
-Unfortunately, the removal of the one trouble did not succeed in saving
-the animal’s life. The neck wound healed, but the inflammation of the
-lungs increased and killed him. He died fully conscious, gently and
-peacefully, not as an animal, but as a man dies.
-
-These are features of the character and conduct of anthropoid apes
-which can neither be misunderstood nor cavilled at. When one considers
-that they can be observed in all anthropoids not yet full-grown but
-beyond the stage of childhood, one must undoubtedly grant those animals
-a very high place. For the opinion expressed by some one incapable
-observer, and thoughtlessly repeated by hundreds, that the monkey loses
-mental power with increasing age, that he retrogrades and becomes
-stupid, is completely false, and is disproved by every ape which is
-observed carefully, and without prejudice, from youth to age.[73] Even
-if we knew nothing more about full-grown anthropoids than that they
-erect shelters resembling huts rather than nests, in which to pass a
-single night, and that they drum on hollow trees for amusement, it
-would be enough to lead us to the same conclusion as we have arrived
-at by observation of the young members of this group; that is, that
-they must be regarded as by far the most gifted and highly developed of
-animals, and as our nearest relatives.
-
-And the ape question? I might say that I have just answered it in what
-I have said; but I have no hesitation in expressing a more definite
-opinion.
-
-Everyone must admit that man is not the representative of a new order
-of being, but is simply a member of the animal kingdom, and every
-unprejudiced person will also describe apes as the creatures most
-resembling man. If we compare them with one another, and then with
-man, the conviction is forced upon us, however we may strive against
-it, that there is a greater difference between the marmosets and the
-anthropoid apes than between the latter group and man. Zoologically,
-therefore, one cannot even relegate the apes and man to different
-orders of the highest class of animals. This has indeed been done,
-and is still done, man being classed as two-handed and monkeys as
-four-handed animals, but this leaves the most important aid to the
-classification of a mammal, the dentition, out of the question. For the
-dentition of man and monkeys is so essentially similar that it points
-imperatively to the necessity of placing the two types together. Nor
-is the distinction between two-handed and four-handed tenable, for
-although as regards the structure of hands and feet man and monkeys
-are certainly different, the difference does not imply any opposition;
-and the monkeys are just as much two-handed as we are. If we keep to
-the basis of classification adhered to without exception elsewhere,
-we are forced to place both in one order. I have given to it the name
-_Hochtiere_.
-
-But though the characteristics which belong to all the higher animals
-as members of one order correspond thus accurately, a closer comparison
-reveals differences between man and apes which absolutely forbid a
-fusion of the two groups such as has been attempted in modern times.
-The symmetry of form, the comparative shortness of the arms, the
-breadth and mobility of the hands, the length and strength of the
-legs, as well as the flatness of the feet, the naked skin, and the
-less-developed canine teeth are external marks of man which must not be
-under-estimated, for they are important enough to justify putting him
-and the apes in different families, perhaps even different sub-orders.
-If, in addition, we take man’s endowments into due consideration,
-compare his movements, his articulate speech, his mental capacities
-with the corresponding gifts in the ape, the need for insisting on the
-boundaries between the two is confirmed.
-
-Blind disciples of the Doctrine of Descent, as Darwin founded it
-and others developed it, do indeed cross these boundaries without
-hesitation, but they cannot possibly be regarded as giving a carefully
-thought-out and authoritative judgment on the actual state of the case.
-Satisfactory, not to say probable, as this doctrine is, it has not yet
-risen above the level of an ingenious hypothesis; and incontrovertible
-evidence for the correctness of this hypothesis has not yet been
-produced. Variation within the limits of species and breed can be
-proved, can even be brought about; but transformation of one species
-into another cannot be established in any case. As long as this is so
-we are justified in regarding man and apes as creatures of different
-nature, and disputing the descent of one from the other. No attempt
-to discover or establish a common ancestor, no undertaking to draw
-up a pedigree for man, alters this in the slightest; for true natural
-science is not satisfied with interpretative theories, it demands
-proofs; it does not want to believe, but to know.[74]
-
-So we may without scruple give the apes the place in the scale of being
-which unprejudiced investigation points out. We may look upon them as
-the animals most resembling ourselves, and as our nearest relatives
-in the zoological sense; anything more than this we must deny. Much
-that is characteristic of man is to be found in the apes also; but a
-wide gulf still remains between them and true humanity. Physically and
-mentally they have many of the characteristics of man, but by no means
-all.
-
-
-
-
-DESERT JOURNEYS.
-
-
-On the fringe of the desert, under a thick group of palms, a small tent
-is pitched. Around it is a motley collection of bales and boxes, built
-into a sort of barricade. Outside this some Nubian boys are lounging
-or squatting. They are in holiday garb, so to speak, for their glossy
-skins have been freshly smeared with grease.
-
-The travellers whom the tent shelters have come so far on a Nile boat,
-but as the river now describes a huge curve and abounds in rocks and
-rapids, they have decided to cut across the desert.
-
-It is about noon. The sun stands almost vertically above the tent, in a
-cloudless deep blue sky, and his scorching rays are but slightly warded
-off by the loose open foliage of the date-palms. On the plain between
-the river and the desert the heat is oppressive, and the strata of air
-above the burning ground are heaving unsteadily, so that every picture
-is distorted and blurred.
-
-A troop of horsemen, evidently hailing from the desert, appears on the
-horizon. They pay no heed to the village which lies further inland,
-but make straight for the tent. The horses are thin, but plainly of no
-ignoble breed; the riders are dark brown and poorly clad, with long
-loose burnooses more gray than white. Reaching the cluster of palms
-they dismount. One of them approaches the tent and enters with the
-dignity of a king. He is the chief of the camel-drivers (Sheikh el
-Djemali), to whom we, the travellers, had sent a messenger, asking him
-to provide us with the necessary guides, drivers, and camels.
-
-“Peace be with you,” he says on entering, and lays his hand on his
-mouth, his forehead, and his heart.
-
-“Peace be with thee, O Sheikh,” we answer, “the mercy of God and his
-blessing.”
-
-“Great has been my desire to see you, ye strangers, and to learn your
-wishes,” he assures us, as he takes his seat on a cushion in the place
-of honour at our right hand.
-
-“May God, the Almighty, reward thy goodness, O Sheikh, and bless thee,”
-we answer; and we order our servants to bring him coffee and a freshly
-lit pipe before serving ourselves.
-
-With half-shut eyes he comforts his mortal body with the coffee and
-his immortal soul with the pipe; and thick clouds of smoke veil his
-expressive features. There is almost perfect stillness in the tent,
-which is pervaded with the fragrance of the exquisite Djebelit tobacco
-and a thin smoke by no means unpleasant. At last we think that we
-may venture to begin business without violating any of the rites of
-hospitality.
-
-“Is it well with thee, O Sheikh?”
-
-“The Giver of all Good be praised, it is well with your servant. And
-how is it with thee?”
-
-“To the Lord of all be honour and glory, it is well with me. Great was
-our longing to see thee, O Sheikh.”
-
-“May God in His compassion fulfil your desire and bless you. Are ye in
-your state of health well content?”
-
-“Glory be to Allah and to His Prophet, on whom is His grace.”
-
-“Amen, be it as thou hast said.”
-
-Fresh pipes revive the immortal soul; renewed, almost interminable
-courtesies are interchanged; and at last the rigid conditions of
-etiquette have been fulfilled, and it is permissible to turn to
-business matters.
-
-“O Sheikh, with the help of the All-merciful, I would travel through
-this stretch of desert.”
-
-“May Allah give thee good speed.”
-
-“Art thou in possession of camels both to run and to carry burdens?” we
-ask.
-
-“I am. Is it well with thee, my brother?”
-
-“The Almighty be praised, it is well. How many camels canst thou
-provide for me?”
-
-Instead of an answer only countless clouds of smoke issue from the
-Sheikh’s mouth, and it is not until we repeat our question that he lays
-aside his pipe for some moments and says with dignity, “Sir, the number
-of the camels of Beni Said is known to Allah alone; no son of Adam has
-ever counted them.”
-
-“Well, then, send me twenty-five beasts, and among them six trotters.
-And I have besides need of ten large water-bags.”
-
-The Sheikh smokes afresh without giving answer.
-
-“Wilt thou send the beasts we desire?” we repeat with emphasis.
-
-“I shall do so to serve thee,” he answers, “but their owners require a
-high price.”
-
-“How much?”
-
-“At least four times the customary wages and hire will be necessary.”
-
-“But Sheikh, Allah, the Most High, preserve thee: these are demands
-which no one will be willing to grant. Praise the Prophet!”
-
-“God, the Preserver of all, be glorified and His messengers blessed!
-Thou art in error, my friend: the merchant who has his camp over there
-has offered me double what I ask; only my friendship for thee has
-allowed me to make so small a demand.”
-
-In vain seems all haggling, all further business. Fresh pipes are
-brought and are smoked; renewed courtesies are exchanged; the names of
-Allah and His Prophet are freely misused on both sides; most precise
-inquiries after health and comfort are made mutually; until at length
-the studied courtesy of the native begins to waver and the traveller
-from the North loses patience.
-
-“Then know, Sheikh, that I am in possession of a letter authorizing a
-demand for means of convoy from the Khedive and likewise one from the
-Sheikh Soliman; here are both of them, what dost thou demand now?”
-
-“But, sir, if thou holdest a safe-conduct from his high majesty, why
-dost thou not demand the head of thy slave? It is at thy service, on
-his orders. I take thy wishes on my eyes and on my head. Command and
-thy servant obeys. Thou knowest the government prices. Allah protect
-thee; in the morning I shall send thee men, beasts, and water-skins.”
-
-If any one imagines that all the preparations for the desert journey
-were thus brought to a satisfactory conclusion, he is indeed totally
-ignorant of the manners and customs of the people. In the morning none
-of the promised drivers or beasts had put in their appearance; only by
-afternoon did they begin to come in; not even on the following morning,
-but at soonest about the time of afternoon prayer, could one think of
-starting. “Bukra inshallah--to-morrow, if God will”--is their motto,
-and it baffles all commands. Indeed, there is much to do, much to
-arrange, and much to be planned before the journey can be undertaken.
-
-In course of time the tent is the centre of a gay and lively picture.
-The sunburnt children of the desert bustle about among the baggage.
-Their activity is unbusiness-like to a degree, but they seem to try to
-make up for this by incredible noisiness. The baggage, which had been
-arranged in a sort of barricade, is scattered about; individual pieces
-are lifted and tested as regards both weight and bulk; one package is
-compared with another, selected and then rejected, strapped together
-and then pulled apart again. Each driver tries to outwit his neighbour,
-each endeavouring to secure the lightest load for his own beast; each
-one rushes about in opposition to the rest, and all are shouting and
-roaring, screaming and scolding, swearing and cursing, entreating and
-execrating. In anticipation of what is coming the camels also add to
-the noise right lustily, and if, instead of roaring, and growling and
-grumbling, they should keep silence for a while, that only means:
-Our time has not yet come, but it is coming! Anyhow, with or without
-the camels’ accompaniment, the stranger’s ear is harassed, literally
-tortured, by all the medley of sounds which fall upon it at once. For
-hours together the bustle, the racket, the uproar continues; the men
-scold and quarrel over the loads until they have had enough or more
-than enough; and at last the prelude comes to an end.
-
-After peace is concluded they begin to twist the bast fibres of the
-date-palm into cords and ropes. With these they sling the bales and
-boxes cleverly together; they make hooks and eyes so that the two
-bundles may be fastened quickly to the saddle and as quickly loosened;
-they mend the ready-made nets which they have brought to hold the
-smaller packages; and they test the large and small skin bags, patching
-them where need be, and finally smearing them with ill-smelling varnish
-of colocynth. Lastly, they examine the sun-dried flesh, fill several
-bast bags with Kaffir-millet or dhurra, others with wood-charcoal, and
-some perhaps with camels’ dung, rinse out the skin-bags and fill them
-with water fresh from the stream. As the tedious business is brought to
-a close one hears each utter a hearty “Thank God”--“El hamdu lillahi”.
-
-To look after all these preparations is the duty of the _Chabir_ or
-leader of the caravan. According to its importance is his rank, but in
-all cases he must be what his title signifies--one who knows the way
-and the existing conditions. Experience, honesty, cleverness, mettle,
-and bravery are the requirements of his difficult, and not rarely
-dangerous office. He knows the desert as a mariner the sea, he can read
-the stars, he is familiar with every oasis and every spring on the
-course of the journey, he is welcome to the tent of every Bedouin or
-nomad chief, he understands all sort of precautions against break-down
-or peril by the way, he can cure snake-bite and scorpion-sting, or at
-least alleviate the sufferings of the injured, he wields the weapons
-of the warrior and of the huntsman with equal skill, he has the word
-of the Prophet not only on his lips but in his heart, he utters the
-“_Fatiha_” at starting, and discharges the obligations of Mueddin
-and Iman at the appointed times; in a word, he is the head of the
-many-membered body which travels through the desert. In the solitudes
-where nothing seems to point the way which other caravans have taken,
-where the wind obliterates every track almost as soon as the last camel
-has passed, he finds signs unseen by others which guide him aright.
-When the dry, ill-boding dust of the desert hides the everlasting
-heavens, his genius is his guiding star; he tests the drifting
-sand, measures its waves, and estimates their direction; he reads the
-points of the compass on a stem of grass. On him every caravan, every
-traveller depends without mistrust. Ancient and in part most remarkable
-laws, inscribed in no charter, yet known to all, make him responsible
-for the welfare of the journey and for the life of each traveller,
-except in so far as any inevitable dispensation of the Ordainer of
-destiny may decree otherwise.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 49.--Caravan in the African Desert.]
-
-At the sacred hour, the time of afternoon prayer, the leader announces
-to travellers and drivers that all is ready for the start. The brown
-men rush around, catching, leading, saddling, and loading the camels.
-Resisting to the utmost the beasts are forced to obey; they seem to
-have a vivid foreboding of a stretch of toilsome days. Their time has
-now come. Roaring, screaming, snarling, and grumbling, in obedience to
-the inimitable guttural commands of their masters and sundry gentle
-hints from the whips, they sink down on their bended knees; bellowing
-they adjust themselves to receive the unwelcome burden on their humped
-backs, and still bellowing they rise with their load. Not a few kick
-and bite in their efforts to resist being loaded, and it indeed
-requires all the inexhaustible patience of the drivers to subdue the
-obstinate creatures. But patience and tact master even camels. As soon
-as the rebellious beast has consented to kneel, one of the drivers
-stands up on its bent fore-legs, and with a quick grip seizes the upper
-part of the muzzle so that by pressing the nose he can stop the camel’s
-breathing; meanwhile two others from opposite sides lift the equally
-poised burden on to the saddle; a fourth runs fastening pegs through
-the loops of the ropes; and the fractious camel is loaded before he has
-quite regained his senses. As soon as all are loaded, the march begins.
-
-It is now the turn of the well-saddled trotting camels. Each traveller
-fastens his weapons and indispensable personal luggage to the high,
-trough-shaped saddle fixed over the hump. He then proceeds to mount
-his steed. For the novice this is usually a critical business. With a
-bold spring he must leap into the saddle, and, as soon as he touches
-this, the camel bolts up. He rises backwards, first on his fore-knees,
-immediately afterwards on his long hind-legs, and finally on his
-fore-legs. To the second jerk the novice in camel-riding usually falls
-a victim, he is hurled out of the saddle and either kisses mother
-earth or falls on the beast’s neck and holds on tightly. The camel
-is much too ill-humoured to treat this as a joke or an accident. An
-angry cry bursts from its ugly lips; it flies into a passion with the
-poor traveller, hanging in a most unenviable position on its neck, and
-proceeds to shake itself free both of him and his baggage. It takes
-some time before the traveller from the North learns to bend his body
-forwards and backwards at the right moment so as to keep his seat as
-the camel springs up.
-
-For our own part, we swing ourselves into the saddle with the agility
-of natives. Urging on our steed with a few strokes of the whip, and
-keeping it in due check by means of a fine nose-rein, we hasten after
-the leader. Our camel, a lank, loosely-built, long-legged creature,
-falls at once into that uniform, persistent, long-stepping, and most
-effective trot, to which it is trained from earliest youth, and which
-raises it high above all beasts of burden, and closely follows the
-leaders. The small head is stretched far in front; the long legs swing
-quickly backwards and forwards; behind them sand and small stones rise
-into the air. The burnooses of the riders flutter in the wind; weapons
-and utensils clatter together; with loud calls we spur on the beasts;
-the joy of travel seems to give our spirits wings. Soon we overtake
-the caravan of baggage-camels which had preceded us; soon every trace
-of human settlement disappears; and on all sides there stretches in
-apparent infinitude--the desert.
-
-Sharply defined all around, this immense and unique region covers
-the greater part of North Africa, from the Red Sea to the Atlantic,
-from the Mediterranean to the Soudan, including whole countries in
-its range, embracing tracts of fertile land; presenting a thousand
-varieties, and yet always and everywhere the same in its essential
-features. In area, this wonderful region is nine or ten times larger
-than the whole of the German Empire, and three or four times larger
-than the Mediterranean. No mortal has thoroughly explored or even
-traversed it; but every son of earth who has set foot on it and crossed
-some part of it, is in his inmost heart impressed with its size and
-grandeur, its charm and its horror. Even on the most matter-of-fact
-Northerner who sojourns in the desert a lasting, ineffaceable
-impression is left by the glowing splendour of the sunlight and the
-parching heat of its days, by the heavenly peacefulness and the magical
-phantoms of its nights, by the witchery of the radiant atmosphere, by
-the dreadfulness of its mountain-moving storms; and many a one may have
-experienced, what the children of the desert so acutely feel--a longing
-to return, to breathe its air for a day, an hour, to see its pictures
-again with the bodily eye, to experience again that “unutterable
-harmony” whose echoes the desert awakens in the poetic soul. In short,
-there is a home-sickness for the desert.
-
-It is literally and truly “El Bahhr bela maa”--the sea without
-water--the sea’s antithesis. To the sea the desert is not subject
-as are other parts of the earth; the might of the vitalizing and
-sustaining element is here annulled. “Water silently embraces all
-things”--the desert alone excepted. Over the whole earth the winds bear
-the clouds, the sea’s messengers, but these fade away before the glow
-of the desert. It is rarely that one sees there even a thin, hardly
-perceptible vapour; rarely can one detect on a leaf in the morning the
-damp breath of the night. The flush of dawn and the red glow of sunset
-are indeed seen, but only, as it were, in a breath which is scarce
-formed when it passes away. Wherever water gains the mastery, the
-desert changes into fertile land, which may, indeed, be poor enough,
-but the limits between them are always sharply defined. Where the last
-wave of the sacred Nile, raised above its level by man’s ingenuity,
-loses itself in the sand, the contrast is seen; the traveller, whose
-way lies from the river to the hills adjacent, may stand with one foot
-on a field of sprouting grain, and with the other touch the desert. It
-is not the sand itself which hinders the growth of plants, but solely
-the scorching heat which radiates through it. For, wherever it is
-irrigated or periodically watered, there, amid the otherwise plantless
-desert, a green carpet of vegetation is spread, and even shrubs and
-trees may grow.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 50.--An Encampment in the Sahara.]
-
-Barren, pitifully barren is the desert, but it is not dead--not, at
-least, to those who have eyes to see its life. Whoever looks with
-a dull eye sees nothing but sandy plains and rocky cones, bare low
-grounds and naked hills, may even overlook the sparse reed-like grasses
-and shrubby trees of the deeper hollows, and the few animals which
-occur here and there. But he who really wishes to see can discover
-infinitely more. To the dull-eyed the desert is a land of horrors; they
-allow themselves to be so depressed by the glowing heat of the day
-that the blissfulness of the night brings them no comfort or strength;
-they ride into the desert trembling, and leave it shuddering; their
-sensations are all for the terrible, their feelings for the annoyances
-attendant on the journey; for the infinite sublimity of the desert such
-hearts are too small. But those who have really learned to know the
-desert judge otherwise.
-
-Barren the desert is, we confess, but it is not dead. Thus, although
-the general aspect is uniform, the nature of the surface varies
-greatly. For wide stretches the desert is like a rocky sea, with
-strangely-shaped cones, abrupt precipitous walls, deeply-riven gorges,
-sharp-angled ridges, and wondrous towering domes. Over these the
-ceaselessly-blowing wind drifts the sand, now filling up hollows,
-now emptying them again, but always grinding, polishing, hollowing
-out, sharpening, and pointing. Black masses of sandstone, granite,
-or syenite, more rarely of limestone or slate, and here and there
-of volcanic rock glow in the sun, and rise in expressively-outlined
-ranges. On one side the wind robs these of every covering, driving the
-fine sand uninterruptedly over their summits, completely enveloping
-them in a veil in times of storm, and leaving no particle of sand
-at rest until it has been blown across the ridge. On the lee side,
-protected from the wind, lie golden yellow beds of the finest rolled
-sand, which form terraces one above another, each about a yard in
-height. But they also are in ceaseless movement, continually displacing
-one another from above downwards, and being renewed from the other
-side of the range. Strikingly contrasted with the black walls of the
-exposed side, these terraces of sand are visible from afar, and in
-certain lights they sparkle like broad golden ribbons on the hills.
-We may venture to call such ranges the regalia of the desert. No one
-unacquainted with the glowing South can picture the marvellous wealth
-of colour, the splendour and glamour, and the infinite charm which
-the overflowing sunlight can create on the dreariest and wildest
-mountains of the desert. Their sides are never clothed with the welcome
-green of woodland, at most the highest peaks bear a scant covering of
-bushes, to which the precipitation of vapour at this height allows a
-bare subsistence and a stunted growth. One misses the whispering of
-the beeches, and the rustling of the firs and pines; there is none of
-the familiar murmuring, or joyous chatter, or echoing roar of running
-water, which lays silver ribbons on our mountains at home, fringing
-them here with verdure, while in another place the sun shining upon
-rushing waterfall and whirlpool enhaloes them with rainbow colours;
-there is no mantle of ice and snow which the sun can transfigure into
-purple at dawn and sunset, or into glowing brightness at noon; and
-there is no fresh green from any mead. In short, all the witchery and
-charm of Northern mountain scenery is absent; and yet the desert
-mountains are not deficient in wealth of colour, and certainly not
-in majesty. Every individual layer and its own peculiar colour comes
-into prominence and has its effect. And yet, brilliant as may be the
-brightly-coloured and sometimes sharply-contrasted strata, it is on the
-continuously sand-polished, grandly-sculptured cones, peaks, gullies,
-and gorges that the light of heaven produces the finest play of colour.
-The alternations of light and shade are so frequent, the flushing and
-fading of colours so continuous, that a very intoxication of delight
-besets the soul. Nor do the first and last rays of the sun fail to
-clothe the desert mountains in purple; and distance sheds over them its
-blue ethereal haze. They, too, live, for the light gives them life.
-
-In other regions the desert is for wide stretches either flat or gently
-undulating. For miles it is covered with fine-grained, golden-yellow
-sand, into which man and beast sink for several centimetres. Here one
-often sees not a single stem of grass nor living creature of any kind.
-The uniformly blue sky roofs in this golden surface, and contributes
-not a little to suggest the sea. In such places the track of the “ship
-of the desert” is lost as it is made; they are pathless as the sea; for
-them as for the ocean was the compass discovered. Less monotonous, but
-not more pleasant, are those regions on which loose, earthy, or dusty
-sand forms a soil for poisonous colocynth-gourds and the wholesome
-senna. Long low hills alternate with shallow and narrow hollows, and
-a carpet of the above-named plants, which from a distance seems green
-and fresh, covers both alike. Such places are avoided by both man and
-beast, for the camel and his driver often sink a foot deep into the
-loose surface-soil. Other tracts are covered with coarse gravel or
-flints, and others with hollow sand-filled balls, rich in iron, which
-look almost as if they had been made by human hands, and whose origin
-has not yet been very satisfactorily explained.[75] On such stretches,
-where the camel-paths are almost like definite highways, thousands of
-quartz crystals are sometimes exposed, either singly or in groups, like
-clusters of diamonds set by an artist hand. With these the sun plays
-magically, and such stretches gleam and sparkle till the dazzled eye is
-forced to turn away from them. In the deepest hollows, finally, the
-dust forms a soil, and there one is sure to find the reed-like, but
-very hard, dry, sharp, dark-green alfa, umbrella-shaped mimosas, and
-perhaps even tom-palms, pleasant assurances of life.
-
-But of animal life also there is distinct evidence. To think of the
-desert as a dead solitude is as erroneous as to call it the home
-of lions. It is too poor to support lions, but it is rich enough
-for thousands of other animals. And all these are in a high degree
-remarkable, for in every respect they prove themselves the true
-children of the desert.
-
-It is not merely that their colouring is always most precisely
-congruent with the dominant colour of the ground, that is generally
-tawny, but the desert animals are marked by their light and delicate
-build, by their strikingly large and unusually acute eyes and ears, and
-by a behaviour which is as unassuming as it is self-possessed. It is
-the lot of all creatures born in the desert to be restless wanderers,
-for sufficient food cannot be found all the year round at one place,
-and the children of the desert are endowed with incomparable agility,
-indefatigable endurance, untiring persistence; their senses are
-sharpened so that the pittance which is offered is never overlooked,
-and their clothing is adapted to conceal them alike in flight or in
-attack. If their life is perhaps somewhat hard, it is certainly not
-joyless.
-
-The fact that almost all the desert animals agree in colouring
-with their surroundings explains why the traveller, who is not an
-experienced observer, often sees, at first at least, but little of the
-animal life. Moreover, the desert seems far poorer than it is, since it
-is not till dusk that most of its tenants leave their places of rest
-and concealment and begin to be lively. Some, however, force themselves
-on the attention of the least observant. Even though the traveller may
-fail to notice the various species of desert-lark which cross his path
-everywhere, and are noteworthy for their likeness to the ground and for
-their extraordinarily developed powers of flight, he cannot possibly
-overlook the sand-grouse; and though he may ride unobserving over the
-burrows of the jerboas, he is sure to observe a gazelle feeding not far
-from his path.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 51.--Gazelles lying near a Mimosa.]
-
-This antelope may be regarded as typically a desert animal. Although
-it is proportionate in all its parts, the head and sense-organs seem
-almost too large, and the limbs too delicate, in fact almost fragile.
-But this head carries a brain of unusual cleverness for a ruminant, and
-those limbs are as if made of steel, exceedingly strong and elastic,
-admirably suited for agility and untiring endurance. One must not judge
-the gazelle of the desert from its appearance in captivity, cooped
-up in a narrow space. What activity, adroitness, suppleness, grace,
-and spirit, it displays in its native haunts! How well it deserves
-to have been chosen alike by the Oriental and by the native of the
-desert as the image of feminine beauty. Trusting to its tawny coat, as
-well as to its incomparable agility and speed, it gazes with clear,
-untroubled eyes at the camels and their riders. Without seeming to be
-disturbed by the approaching caravan, it continues to browse. From the
-blossoming mimosa it takes a bud or a juicy shoot; between the sharp
-alfa leaves it finds a delicate young stem. Nearer and nearer comes the
-caravan. The creature raises its head, listens, sniffs the air, gazes
-round again, moves a few steps, and browses as before. But suddenly
-the elastic hoofs strike the ground, and the gazelle is off, quickly,
-lightly, and nimbly, as if its almost unexcelled speed were but play.
-Over the sandy plain it skims, quick as thought, leaping over the
-larger stones and tamarisk bushes as if it had wings. It seems almost
-to have left the earth, so surprisingly beautiful is its flight; it
-seems as if a poem of the desert were embodied in it, so fascinating
-is its beauty and swiftness. A few minutes of persistent flight carry
-it out of reach of any danger with which the travellers can threaten
-it, for the best trotter would pursue in vain, and not even a greyhound
-could overtake it. Soon it slackens its speed, and in a few moments it
-is browsing as before. And if the bloodthirsty traveller begins the
-chase in earnest, the sly creature has a tantalizing way of allowing
-him to get near it again; a second and a third time it cleverly gets
-out of range of his murderous weapons, until at length, becoming
-scared, it leaves all danger far behind. The further it gallops the
-more slender seem its body and limbs; its outline begins to swim
-before the eyes; at length it disappears on the sandy flat, merging
-into it and seeming to melt away like a breath of vapour. Its home has
-received and concealed the fugitive, removed it, as if magically, from
-vision, and left not a trace behind. But if the vision is lost to the
-eye it remains in the heart, and even the Western can now understand
-why the gazelle has become such a richly-flowering bud in the poesy
-of the East, why the Oriental gives it so high a rank among beasts,
-why he compares the eyes which kindle fires in his heart to those of
-the gazelle, why he likens the neck around which he throws his arms in
-love’s secret hour to that of the swiftest of the desert’s children,
-why the nomad brings a tame gazelle to the tent of his gladly-expectant
-spouse, that she may gaze into its tender eyes and reflect their beauty
-on the hoped-for pledge of their wedlock, and why even the sacred poet
-finds in the fair creature a visible emblem of his longing after the
-Most High. For even he, removed from the world, must have felt a breath
-of the passion which has purified the words and made smooth the verses
-and rhymes of the fiery songs in praise of the gazelle.
-
-Less attractive, but by no means less interesting, are some other
-desert animals. Among the sparsely sprouting alfa there is a numerous
-flock of birds about the size of pigeons. Tripping hither and thither,
-scratching and scraping with their bills, they seek for food. Without
-anxiety they allow the rider to approach within a distance of a hundred
-paces. A good field-glass enables one to see not only every movement,
-but also the more prominent colours of their plumage. With depressed
-head, retracted neck, and body held almost horizontally, they run
-about in search of seeds, the few grains which the desert grasses
-bear, freshly unfolded panicles, and insects. Some stretch out their
-necks from time to time and peer circumspectly around, others, quite
-careless, paddle in the sand, preening their feathers, or lie at ease,
-half sideways, in the sun. All this one can distinctly see, and one
-can count that there are over fifty, perhaps nearly a hundred. What
-sportsman would their presence not excite? Sure of his booty, the
-inexperienced traveller shuts up his field-glass, gets hold of his
-gun, and slowly approaches the gay company. But the birds disappear
-before his eyes. None has run or flown, yet none is to be seen. It
-seems as if the earth had swallowed them. The fact is that, trusting
-to the likeness between their plumage and the ground, they have simply
-squatted. In a moment they have become stones and little heaps of sand.
-Ignorant of this, the sportsman rides in upon them, and is startled
-when they rise with simultaneous suddenness, and loudly calling and
-scolding, take wing and fly noisily away. But if he should succeed in
-bringing one down, he will not fail to be struck by their colouring and
-marking, which is as remarkable as their behaviour. The sand-coloured
-upper surface, shading sometimes into gray, sometimes towards bright
-yellow, is broken and adorned by broad bands, narrower bars, delicate
-lines, by dots, spots, points, streaks, and blurs, so that one might
-fancy at first sight that birds so marked must be conspicuous from a
-distance. But all this colour-medley is simply the most precise copy of
-the ground; every dark and light spot, every little stone, every grain
-of sand seems to have its counterpart on the plumage. It is no wonder
-then that the earth can, as it were, make the bird part of itself, and
-secure its safety, which is further assured by the creature’s strong
-wings, which are capable of incomparably swift flight. And so it is
-that the poetic feeling of the Arabs has idealized these sand-grouse in
-luxuriant fancy and flowery words, for their beauty fascinates the eye,
-and their marvellous swiftness awakens longing in the heart of mortals
-who are bound to the earth.
-
-All other desert animals display characters like the two which we have
-described. Thus there is a lynx, the caracal, leaner and lanker, with
-longer ears and larger eyes than the rest of his race, moreover not
-striped nor spotted, but sand-coloured all except his black ear-tips,
-eye-stripes, and lip-spots. His hue varies slightly, being lighter or
-darker, and with more or less red, according to the locality in which
-he lives. There is also a desert fox, the fenec, the dwarf of the dog
-family, with dun-yellow fur, and extraordinarily large ears. The desert
-also harbours a small rodent, the so-called jumping-mouse, the jerboa:
-he suggests a miniature kangaroo, and has exceedingly long hind-legs,
-diminutive fore-legs, and a tail longer than the body with hairs in two
-rows. He is more harmless and good-natured, but also swifter and more
-agile than any other rodent.
-
-The birds, the reptiles, and even the insects show the same stamp,
-though form and colouring may vary greatly. When any other colour
-besides sandy-yellow becomes prominent, if hair, feather, or scale
-be marked with black or white, ashy-gray or brown, red or blue, such
-decorations occur only in places where they are not noticeable when
-looked at from above or from the side. But where a mountain rises in
-the midst of the desert, it shows its varied character also in the
-animal life. On the gray rocks of the mountains in Arabia the steinbok
-clambers, the hyrax has its home, the bearded vultures nest, and not a
-few other birds are to be found on the peaks and cliffs, in the chasms
-and valleys. But from the dark rocks of more low-lying deserts the only
-sound one hears is the loud but tuneful song of the deep-black wheatear.
-
-Thus the desert exhibits harmony in all its parts and in every one of
-its creatures, and this fact goes far to strengthen the impression
-made on every thoughtful, sensitive, and healthy mind--an impression
-received on the first day in the desert, and confirmed on every
-succeeding one.
-
-If one would really know the desert and become in any measure at home
-there, one must have a vigorous constitution, a receptive mind, and
-some poetic feeling. Whoever shrinks from enduring the discomforts
-of the journey, whoever fears either sun or sand, should avoid the
-desert altogether. Even if the sky be clear, and the atmosphere pure
-and bright, even if a cooling breeze come from the north, the day in
-the desert is hard to bear. Almost suddenly, with scarce any dawn, the
-sun begins to exert his masterful power. It is only near the sea or
-large rivers that the dawn is heralded by a purple flush on the eastern
-horizon; amid the vast sand-plains the sun appears with the first
-reddening in the east. It rises over the flats like a ball of fire,
-which seems as if it would burst forth on all sides. The coolness of
-the morning is at once past. Directly after sunrise the glowing beams
-beat down as if it were already noon. And though the north wind, which
-may blow for months at a time and is often refreshing, may prevent the
-unequally expanded layers of air from shaping themselves into a mirage,
-yet it does not bring sufficient cooling to annul the peculiar heaving
-and quivering of the atmosphere which is seen over the sand. Heaven
-and earth seem to float in a flood of light, and an indescribable heat
-streams from the sun, and is reflected again from the sand. With each
-hour the light and heat increase, and from neither is there any escape.
-
-The caravan starts at daybreak and proceeds without a sound. The
-baggage-camels step out briskly and their drivers keep pace with
-elastic steps; the riding-camels hasten at full trot, urged according
-to their strength, and soon leave the burden-bearers far behind. With
-unslackened speed they hurry on. All one’s bones seem to crack with the
-jerks and jolting caused by the rapid pace of the riding-camels. The
-sun beats down, piercing through all the garments with which one tries
-to protect oneself. Under the thicker clothing perspiration pours all
-over the body, on the more lightly clad arms and legs it evaporates
-as it is formed. The tongue cleaves to the roof of the mouth. Water,
-water, water! is the one idea left to those unaccustomed to these
-discomforts. But the water, instead of being in iron vessels or flasks,
-is in the characteristic skin-bags of the country; it has been carried
-for days in the full sun on the camel’s back, it is more than lukewarm,
-of evil odour, thick, brown in colour, and tastes so vilely of leather
-and colocynth varnish that it produces nausea or even vomiting. But it
-seems as impossible to improve it as to do without it. Its penetrating
-taste and smell baffle all attempts to enjoy it in coffee or tea, or
-mixed with wine or brandy. Undiluted wine or brandy simply increase the
-burning thirst and oppressive heat. The traveller’s condition becomes
-one of torture before the sun reaches the zenith, and his distress is
-the greater the worse the water. But it has to be and is endured. And
-although the Northerner can never conquer his repugnance to the kind
-of water which we have described, he grows used to the heat, at first
-so unbearable, and, as he begins to be at home with his steed, other
-discomforts are also lessened. In the future he will make sure of water
-which is at least clean, and will soon cease to complain of its warmth
-or of any other inevitable inconveniences of his journey.
-
-Resting comfortably, though rudely wakened by the loud grumbling of
-the baggage-camels, the experienced travellers allow the caravan
-to go on ahead while they comfort body and soul with coffee and
-tobacco. Thereafter they mount the dromedaries and speed along as
-quickly as these trotters will go. Not a word is exchanged, the
-only sounds are the crunching of the sand under the elastic hoofs,
-the loud breathing, and hollow, deep grunting of the camels. In a
-short time the baggage-train is overtaken, and we shoot on ahead. A
-gazelle browses near our course and raises hopes of welcome booty.
-With spirited movements the graceful creature--image of the desert
-poet’s fancy--skips and dances before its pursuers; the gasping,
-sharply-spurred camels rush on with gigantic strides. The gazelle seems
-careless and allows near approach; the riders act as if they would pass
-it, they rein in their beasts and ride more moderately. But one slips
-from the saddle to the ground, stops his beast for a moment, and from
-under cover of its body fires a deadly shot. In a trice the leader has
-sprung from his saddle to make sure of the fallen game; triumphantly he
-drags it along, fastens it dexterously to his saddle, and on goes our
-cavalcade.
-
-Towards noon a halt is called. If there is a hollow near, it will
-probably contain an umbrella-like mimosa, whose thin foliage will
-afford some slight shade; but if the sandy plain stretches unbroken on
-all sides, all that can be done is to fix four lances in the sand and
-stretch a blanket over them. Though the sand on which one must lie is
-glowing, and the air one breathes is oppressive, languor and weariness
-overpower even the natives, how much more the Northerner. One seeks
-rest, but it comes not, and refreshment, but one cannot enjoy it.
-Blinded by the overflowing light and the tremulous atmosphere, we shut
-our eyes; but, tormented by scorching heat, and tortured by feverish
-thirst, we toss about sleepless. The hours go by on leaden feet.
-
-The baggage-train winds slowly past and disappears in a vapourous sea
-on whose heaving waves the camels seem to float. Still one lingers, and
-continues to suffer the same agonies. The sun has long since passed the
-zenith, but his glowing beams are as fierce as ever. It is not till
-late in the afternoon that a fresh start is made. And again there is a
-rapid ride, whose swiftness seems almost to create a cooling breeze of
-air. The baggage-camels come in sight again, and are soon overtaken.
-The drivers stride behind them, singing; one leads the song, and the
-rest join in at the end of each verse in regular refrain.
-
-When one knows the toilsome labour of the camel-driver in the desert,
-one wonders indeed to hear him singing. Before daybreak he loaded his
-camel, after he had shared with it a few handfuls of soft-boiled dhurra
-grains--the sole food of both; all through the long day he strides
-behind his beast, without a bite to eat, with at most an occasional
-mouthful of ill-smelling water; the sun scorches his head, the glowing
-sand burns his feet, the hot air parches his sweating body; for him
-there is no time to pause or rest; he may perhaps have had to change
-the loads of some of the beasts, or to catch one or other which had
-bolted; and yet he sings! It is the approach of night which inspires
-him.
-
-When the sun goes to rest, the limbs of these wizened children of the
-desert seem to become supple again; in this, as in all else, they are
-like their mother. Like her they are parched at noon, like her they
-revive at night. As the sun declines, their poetic gifts weave golden
-dreams even in waking hours. The singer praises the well-springs rich
-in water, the groups of palms around them, and the dark tents in the
-shade; he greets a brown maiden in one of the tents, who hails him
-with welcome; he extols her beauty, likens her eyes to those of the
-gazelle, and her mouth to a rose, whose fragrance is as her words, and
-these as pearls in his ear; for her sake he rejects the sultan’s eldest
-daughter, and longs for the hours when fate shall permit him to share
-her tent. But his comrades admonish him to seek after higher joys, and
-raise his thoughts to the Prophet, “who satisfies all longing”.
-
-Such is the song which falls on the Northerner’s ears, and the songs of
-home rise to his lips, and when the last rosy flush of the setting sun
-fades away, when night stretches her robe of witchery over the desert,
-then it seems to him as if the hardest had been easy, as though he had
-suffered no thirst in the heat, nor discomfort by the way. Cheerfully
-he leaps from the saddle, and while the drivers unload and tether the
-camels, he heaps and smooths the sand for his bed, spreads his carpet
-and coverlet, and gives himself over with delight to the rest he had
-longed for.
-
-The small camp-fire illumines the plain only for a few paces. Around it
-the dark, half-naked sons of the desert move about busily; the flame
-casts a weird light on them, and in the half-darkness they look like
-shadows. The bales and boxes, saddles and utensils assume strange
-shapes; and the camels, lying in a wide circle outside the baggage,
-become ghostly figures when their eyes gleam with the reflection of the
-firelight. It becomes quieter and quieter in the camp. One driver after
-another leaves the camels, with whom he has shared his frugal supper,
-wraps himself in his long body-cloth, sinks to the ground, and becomes
-one with the sand. The fire flares up for the last time, loses its
-glow, and goes out. It is night in the camp.
-
-He who would describe a night in the desert should be, by the grace
-of God, a poet. For how can its beauty be described, even by one who
-has watched, revelled, and dreamed through it all? After the heat of
-the day it comes as the gentle, compensating, reconciling bestower
-of unspeakable comfort and inspiration, bringing peace and joy, for
-which a man longs as for his beloved who atones to him for his long
-waiting. “Leïla”, the starry night of the desert, Leïla is with justice
-the Arab’s image of all that is fair and joyous. Leïla he calls his
-daughter; with the words, “my starry night”, he embraces his beloved;
-“Leïla, O Leïla!” is the musical refrain of his songs. And what a night
-it is, which here in the desert, after all the burden and discomfort
-of the day, soothes every sense and feeling! In undreamt-of purity and
-brightness the stars shine forth from the dark dome of heaven: the
-light of the nearest is strong enough to cast slight shadows on the
-pale ground. With full chest one breathes the pure, fresh, cooling,
-and invigorating air; with delight one gazes from star to star, and
-as their light seems to come nearer and nearer, the soul breaks
-through the fetters which bind it to the dust and holds converse with
-other worlds. Not a sound, not a rustle, not even the chirping of a
-grasshopper interrupts the current of thought and feeling. The majesty,
-the sublimity of the desert is now for the first time appreciated;
-its unutterable peace steals into the traveller’s heart. But what
-proud self-consciousness also fills his breast: here, in the midst
-of the infinite solitude, so alone, apart from all human society and
-help, reliant on himself only, his confidence, courage, and hope are
-strengthened. Dream-pictures full of infinite charm pass before his
-wakeful eyes, and merge in ever fresh and fascinating combinations,
-and as the stars begin to twinkle and tremble, his thoughts become
-dreams, and his eyes close in sleep.
-
-After the refreshment which the desert night brings both to body and
-soul, the discomforts of the next day seem lighter, however much effort
-it may require to drink the water, which becomes more vile every hour.
-Perfect rest, unclouded comfort is only to be had at one of the desert
-wells. Always menaced by dearth of the most essential necessaries of
-life, every desert journey is a ceaseless anxiety, a restless hastening
-on; it is therefore entirely devoid of that ease and comfort with which
-one would prefer to travel. One day passes like another; each night,
-in favourable seasons at least, is like that which I have described.
-But in the oasis, the day becomes a holiday, the evening is a joyous
-festival, and the night brings perfect rest.
-
-The essential condition for the formation of an oasis is a basin-like
-or valley-like depression. Without a gushing spring, without at least
-an artificial well, rich vegetation is impossible, and water is found
-in the desert only on the lofty mountains or in the deepest hollows.
-As the sea of sand is in so many respects the counterpart of the
-ocean, so its oases are counterparts of islands, but they do not rise
-above the surface, they are sunk beneath it. The water may either rise
-in a visible spring, or it may be found at a slight depth below the
-surface. Its abundance and its quality determine the character of the
-oasis. In the minority the water is pure and cool, but in most cases
-it is salt, ferruginous, or sulphurous, and on that account probably
-very healthful. But it is by no means always drinkable or conducive
-to fertility. Perhaps there is hardly one oasis which produces fresh,
-green sward. And it is only in very favourable places that the water is
-evident at all; in most cases it collects drop by drop in clefts of the
-rock or in shafts which have been dug for it; at times at least it has
-to be artificially forced. Even where the water wells up copiously it
-would soon lose itself in the sand, if it were not carefully collected
-and distributed. At the same time it always evokes a refreshing life,
-doubly welcome amid such sterility.
-
-Around the spring, long before men appeared to take possession, a
-company of green plants had effected settlement. Who can tell how
-they got there? Perhaps the sand-storm sowed the seeds, which first
-germinated by the well, and grew into plants, with leaves, flowers, and
-another generation of seeds which were scattered through whole valleys.
-It is certain, at least, that they were not planted by men, for the
-mimosas which form the greater part of the little colony occur also in
-springless hollows, where one sees them sometimes singly, sometimes
-forming a small thicket of ten or twenty. They alone are able to keep
-life awake in the desert; they put forth green leaves, they blossom and
-send forth fragrance--how fresh and balmy! In their pleasant shade the
-gazelle rests; from their tops resound the songs of the few feathered
-songsters of the desert. The sappy leaves, seen amid the stiff masses
-of limestone, the cones of black granite, and the dazzling sand, do the
-eyes good like a meadow in May; their flowers as well as their shade
-refresh the soul.
-
-In the larger, more copiously watered oases, men have planted palms,
-which lend a fresh charm to the settlement. The palm is here all in
-all: it is the queen of trees, the giver of fruit which sustains man
-and binds him to his little spot of earth, the tree around which saga
-and song are twined, the tree of life. What would an oasis be without
-palms? A tent without a roof, a house without inmate, a well without
-water, a poem without words, a song without tune, a picture without
-colour. The palm’s fruits feed the nomad herdsman and the settler
-alike, they become wheat or barley in his hand, they satisfy even the
-tax-gatherer of his lord and master. Its stems, its crown, its narrow
-leaves supply him with shelter and utensils, mats, baskets, and sacks,
-ropes and cords. In the sandy desert one first appreciates its full
-worth and importance, it becomes the visible emblem of Arabian poetry,
-which rises like it from frequently barren ground, which grows strong
-and fades not, which raises itself on high, and there only bears sweet
-fruit.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 52.--An Oasis in the Desert of Sahara.]
-
-Mimosas and palms are the characteristic trees of all oases, and are
-never absent from those which have so many springs or wells that
-gardens and fields become possible. Here they are restricted, like
-outposts against the invading sand, to the outer fringe of the desert
-island, while the interior is adorned with more exacting plants
-which require more water. Thus around the springs or wells there
-are often charming gardens in which grow almost all the fruit-bearing
-plants of North Africa. Here the vine clambers, the orange glows amid
-its dark foliage, the pomegranate opens its rosy mouth, the banana
-expands its fan-shaped leaf clusters, the melons straggle among the
-beds of vegetables, prickly-pears and olives, perhaps even figs,
-apricots, and almonds, complete the picture of fruitfulness. At a
-greater distance from the centre lie the fields, bearing at least
-Kaffir-millet, and, in favourable conditions, wheat, or even rice.
-
-In oases so rich man finds a permanent home, while in those which are
-poorer he is but a sojourner, or a more or less periodic guest. The
-village or small township of a large oasis is essentially like that
-of the nearest cultivated country; like it it has its mosques, its
-bazaars, its coffee-houses; but the inhabitants are children of a
-different spirit from that which marks the peasants or townsfolk in
-the Nile valley or along the coast. Although usually of diverse race
-among themselves they all exhibit the same customs and habits. The
-desert has shaped and fashioned them. Their slender build, sharply-cut
-features, and keen eyes, gleaming from under bushy brows, mark them at
-once as sons of the desert; but their habits and customs are even more
-characteristic. They are unexacting and readily contented, energetic
-and full of resource, hospitable and open-hearted, honourable and
-loyal, but proud, irritable, and passionate, inclined to robbery and
-acts of violence, like the Bedouins, though not their equals either in
-good or evil. A caravan entering their settlement is a welcome sight,
-but they expect the traveller to pay them toll.
-
-Very different from such oases are those valleys in which a
-much-desired well is only to be found at times. The Arabian nomads
-are well pleased if the supply of drinking-water for themselves and
-their herds is sufficient for a few months or even weeks; and the
-caravan, which rests in such a place, may be content if its demands are
-satisfied within a few days. The well is usually a deep shaft, from
-whose walls the water oozes rather than trickles. A few tom-palms rise
-among the sparse mimosas and saltworts which surround the well; a few
-stems of grass break through the hard ground.
-
-Unutterably poor are these nomad herdsmen, who pitch their tents here
-as long as their small flocks of goats can find anything to eat. Their
-struggle for existence is a continuous succession of toil, and want,
-and misery. Their tent is of the simplest; a long dark web of cloth,
-made of goats’ hair, is laid across a simple framework, and its ends
-pinned to the ground; a piece of the same stuff forms the back-wall,
-and a mat of palm-leaves forms the door in front. The web is the wife’s
-self-made dowry, the materials for which she gathered, spun, and wove
-from her eighth to her sixteenth year. A few mats which serve as beds,
-a block of granite and a grindstone for pounding the grain got in
-barter, a flat plate of clay to roast the cakes, two large jars, some
-leather sacks and skins, an axe and several lances, form the total
-furnishings. A herd of twenty goats is counted a rich possession for a
-family. But these people are as brave as they are poor, as lovable as
-they are well-built, as good-natured as they are beautiful, as generous
-as they are frugal, as hospitable as they are honourable, as chaste as
-they are devout. Ancient pictures rise in the mind of the Occidental
-who meets with these folk for the first time; he sees biblical
-characters face to face, and hears them speak in a manner with which he
-has been familiar from his childhood. Thousands of years have been to
-these nomads of the desert as one day; to-day they think, and speak,
-and act as did the patriarchs of old. The very greeting which Abraham
-uttered meets the stranger’s ear; the very words which Rebecca spoke
-to Abraham’s servant were addressed to me, when, tortured with thirst,
-I sprang from my camel at the well of Bahiuda, and begged a beautiful
-brown damsel for a drink of fresh water. There she stood before me, the
-Rebecca of thousands of years ago, alive and in unfading youth, another
-and yet the same.
-
-On the arrival of the caravan the whole population of the temporary
-settlement assembles. The chief steps forward from their midst, and
-utters the greeting of peace; all the rest bid the strangers welcome.
-Then they offer the most precious of gifts, fresh water; it is all
-that they have to give, and it is given with dignified friendliness,
-ungrudgingly, yet without urgency. Eagerly the travellers drink in
-long refreshing draughts; the camels also press in riotously upon the
-watering-place, although they might know from experience that they
-must first be unloaded, tethered, and turned on the grass before they
-are allowed to quench an unbroken thirst of four or six days. Even
-at the well not a drop is wasted, therefore the camels first get any
-water that remains in the skins, and it is not till these are filled up
-again that the beasts get a fresh draught, and that with more respect
-to the existing supplies than their actual needs. Only at the copious
-wells can one satisfy their apparently unbounded desires, and see, not
-without amusement, how they swallow without ever looking up, and then
-hasten from the well to the not less eagerly desired pasture, forced
-by their hobbles to grotesque and clumsy movements, which make their
-stomachs rumble like half-filled casks.
-
-And now begins a festival both for travellers and settlers. The former
-find fresh water, perhaps even milk and meat, to increase the delight
-of the longed-for resting-time; the latter gladly welcome any break
-in their life, which, in good seasons, is very monotonous. One of the
-camel-drivers finds in the nearest tent the favourite instrument of
-those who live in the desert, the _tambura_ or five-stringed zither,
-and he knows right well how to use it in accompaniment to his simple
-song. The music allures the daughters of the camp, and slim, beautiful
-women and girls press inquisitively around the strangers, fastening
-their dark eyes on them and their possessions, inquiring curiously
-about this and that. Steel thy heart, stranger; else these eyes may set
-it on fire. They are more beautiful than those of the gazelle, the lips
-beneath put corals to shame, and the dazzling teeth excel any pearls
-which thou couldst give these daughters of the desert. And soon all
-yields to music and to song. Around the zither-player groups arrange
-themselves for the dance; hands both hard and soft beat time to the
-tune, the words, and the regular swaying movements. New forms come and
-those we have become familiar with disappear; there is a constantly
-changing bustle and crowd around the strangers, who are wise if they
-regard all with the same innocence and simplicity which their hosts
-display. All the discomforts of the journey are forgotten, and all
-longings are satisfied, for water flows abundantly and takes the place
-of all that one might desire in other places or at other seasons.
-
-Such a rest revives body and soul. Strengthened and encouraged the
-caravan goes on its way, and if the days bring nothing worse than
-scorching, thirst, and fatigue, a second, and a third well is safely
-reached, and finally the goal of the journey--the first township on the
-other side of the desert. But the desert--the sea of sand--is like the
-all-embracing ocean also in that it is fickle. For here too there are
-raging storms, which wreck its ships and raise destruction-bringing
-billows. When the north wind, which blows continuously for months,
-comes into conflict with currents from the south, or yields them the
-mastery, the traveller suddenly sees the sand become alive, rising
-in huge pillars as thick as they are high, which whirl more or less
-rapidly over the plain. The sun’s rays sometimes lend them the
-ruddy gleam of flames, at another time they seem almost colourless,
-yet again, portentously dark, the furious storm weakens them and
-strengthens them, splits them and unites them, sometimes merging two or
-more into one huge sand-spout which reaches to the clouds. Well might
-the Occidental exclaim at the sublimity of the spectacle, did not the
-anxious looks and words of his escort make him dumb. Woe to the caravan
-which is overtaken by one of these raging whirlwinds, it will be good
-fortune if man and beast escape alive. And even if the inexorable
-messenger of fate pass over the party without doing harm, danger is by
-no means over, for behind the sand-spouts usually comes the Simoom or
-poisonous storm.
-
-This ever-dreaded wind, which blows as the _Chamasin_ through Egypt,
-as the Sirocco towards Italy, as the _Föhn_ through the Alps, as the
-_Tauwind_ in North Europe, does not always rise into a storm; not
-unfrequently it is hardly noticeable, and yet it makes many a man’s
-heart tremble. Of course much that is fabulous is told of it, but this
-much is true, that it is in certain conditions extremely dangerous to
-the caravan, and that it is responsible for the bleached skeletons of
-camels and the half-buried, half-mummified, corpses of men that one
-sees by the wayside. It is not its strength, but its character, its
-electric potential, which brings suffering and destruction to man and
-beast wandering on the sandy sea.
-
-The natives and the observant can foretell the coming of the sand-storm
-at least one day, often several days, ahead. Unfailing symptoms tell of
-its approach. The air becomes sultry and oppressive; a light, grayish
-or reddish vapour obscures the sky; and there is not a breath of wind.
-All living creatures suffer visibly under the gradually increasing
-sultriness; men grumble and groan; the wild animals are shyer than
-usual; the camels become restless and cross, jostling one another,
-jibbing stubbornly, even lying down on the ground. The sun sets without
-any colour; no red-glow fringes the evening sky; every light is veiled
-in a vaporous shroud. Night brings neither coolness nor refreshment,
-rather an aggravation of the sultriness, the lassitude, the discomfort;
-in spite of all weariness one cannot sleep. If men and beasts are still
-able to move, no rest is taken, but they hurry on with the most anxious
-haste as long as the leader can see any of the heavenly bodies. But the
-vapour becomes a dry fog, obscuring one constellation after another,
-hiding moon and sun, though in the most favourable conditions these
-may be visible, about half their normal size, pale in colour and of
-ill-defined contour.
-
-Sometimes it is at midnight that the wind begins to raise its wings;
-more commonly about noon. Without a watch no one could tell the time,
-for the fog has become so thick that the sun is completely hidden. A
-gloomy twilight covers the desert, and everything even within a short
-radius is hazy and indistinct. Gently, hardly perceptibly the air at
-length begins to move. It is not a breeze, but the merest breath. But
-this breath scorches, pierces like an icy wind into bone and marrow,
-producing dull headache, enervation, and uneasiness. The first breath
-is followed by a more perceptible gust, equally piercing and deadening.
-Several brief blasts rage howling across the plain.
-
-It is now high time to encamp. Even the camels know this, for no whip
-will make them take another step. Panic-stricken they sink down,
-stretch out their long necks in front of them, press them closely on
-the sand, and shut their eyes. Their drivers unload them as rapidly
-as possible, build the baggage into a barricade, and heap all the
-water-bags closely together, so as to present the least possible
-surface to the wind, and cover them with any available mats. This
-accomplished, they wrap themselves as closely as may be in their robes,
-moisten the part which surrounds the head, and take refuge behind the
-baggage. All this is done with the utmost despatch, for the sand-storm
-never leaves one long to wait.
-
-Following one another in more rapid succession, the blasts soon become
-continuous, and the storm rages. The wind roars and rumbles, pipes and
-howls in the firmament; the sand rushes and rages along the ground;
-there is creaking and crackling and crashing among the baggage as the
-planks of the boxes burst. The prevailing sultriness increases till
-the limit of endurance seems all but reached; all moisture leaves the
-sweat-covered body; the mucous membranes begin to crack and bleed;
-the parched tongue lies like a piece of lead in the mouth; the pulse
-quickens, the heart throbs convulsively; the skin begins to peel, and
-into the lacerations the raging storm bears fine sand, producing new
-tortures. The sons of the desert pray and groan, the stranger murmurs
-and complains.
-
-The severest raging of the sand-storm does not usually last long, it
-may be only for an hour, or for two or three, just like the analogous
-thunder-storm in the north. As it assuages the dust sinks, the air
-clears, perhaps a counter-breeze sets in from the north; the caravan
-rearranges itself and goes on its way. But if the Simoom last for half
-a day or for a whole day, then it may fare with the traveller as it
-did with an acquaintance of mine, the French traveller Thibaut, as he
-journeyed through the Northern Bahiuda desert. He found the last well
-dry, and with almost exhausted water-bags he was forced to push on
-towards the Nile, four days’ journey off. On him and his panic-stricken
-caravan, which had left every dispensable piece of baggage at the
-dry well, the deadly storm broke loose. The unfortunate company
-encamped, hoped for the end of the storm, but waited in vain, mourning,
-desponding, desperate. One of Thibaut’s servants sprang up maddened,
-howled down the storm, raged, and raved, and at last, utterly spent,
-fell prostrate on his master, gasped, and died. A second fell victim
-to sunstroke, and when the storm at last abated was found dead in his
-resting-place. A third lingered behind the rest after they had started
-again on their life-or-death race, and he also perished. Half of the
-camels were lost. With the remnant of his company Thibaut reached the
-Nile, but in two days his coal-black hair had become white as snow.
-
-To such storms are due the mummied corpses which one sees by the path
-of the caravan. The storm which killed them also buries them in the
-drifting sand; this removes all moisture so quickly that the body,
-instead of decaying, dries up into a mummy. Over them one wind casts
-a shroud of sand, which another strips away. Then the corpse is seen
-stretching its hand, its foot, or its face towards the traveller, and
-one of the drivers answers the petition of the dead, covers him again
-with sand, and goes on his way, saying, “Sleep, servant of God, sleep
-in peace.”
-
-To such storms are also due the dream-pictures of the Fata Morgana
-which arise in the minds of the survivors. As long as a man pursues his
-way with full, undiminished strength and with sound senses, the mirage
-appears to him merely as a remarkable natural phenomenon, and in no
-wise as Fata Morgana. During the hot season, especially about noon,
-but from nine in the morning until three o’clock, the “devil’s sea” is
-to be seen daily in the desert. A gray surface like a lake, or more
-accurately like a flooded district, is formed on every plantless flat
-at a certain distance in front of or around the traveller; it heaves
-and swells, glitters and shimmers, leaves all actually existing objects
-visible, but raises them apparently to the level of its uppermost
-stratum and reflects them down again. Camels or horses disappearing
-in the distance appear, like the angels in pictures, as if floating
-on clouds, and if one can distinguish their movements, it seems as
-if they were about to set down each limb on a cushion of vapour. The
-distance which limits the phenomenon remains always the same, as long
-as the observer does not change his angle of vision; and thus it varies
-for the rider and the pedestrian. The whole phenomenon depends on the
-well-known law, that a ray of light passing through a medium which
-is not homogeneous is refracted, and thus it is inevitable, since
-the lower strata of air become expanded by reflection of heat from
-the glowing sand. No Arab hides his face when he sees a mirage, as
-fanciful travellers assure their credulous readers; none puts any deep
-interpretation on the phrase which he likes to use--“the devil’s sea”.
-But when the anxiety, distress, enervation, and misery consequent on a
-sand-storm beset and weaken him, and the mirage appears, then it may
-become a Fata Morgana, for the abnormally excited imagination forms
-pictures which are in most perfect harmony with the most urgent desire
-of the moment--the desire for water and for rest. Even to me, who have
-observed the mirage hundreds of times, the Fata Morgana appeared once.
-It was after four-and-twenty hours of torturing thirst that I saw the
-devil’s sea sparkling and gleaming before me. I really thought I saw
-the sacred Nile and boats with full-bellied sails, palm-groves and
-woods, and country-houses. But where my abnormal senses perceived a
-flourishing palm-grove, my equally abnormal comrade saw sailing-boats,
-and where I fancied I recognized gardens, he saw not less imaginary
-woodland. And all the deceptive phantasms vanished as soon as we were
-refreshed with an unexpected draught of water; only the nebulous gray
-sea remained in sight.
-
-Perhaps every one who crosses a stretch of desert in the Nile-lands
-sees the devil’s sea; but there is a real and most living desert
-picture, a sight of which is not granted to all. On the extreme
-limit of vision, raised perhaps by the mirage and veiled in vapour,
-a number of riders appear; they are mounted on steeds swift as the
-wind, with limbs like those of deer; they approach rapidly, and urging
-to full gallop the steeds which till then they had restrained, they
-rush down upon the caravan. It always gave me pleasure to meet these
-haggard, picturesquely-clad men; they and their horses seemed to be
-so thoroughly harmonious with the desert. The Bedouin is indeed the
-true son of the desert, and his steed is his counterpart. He is stern
-and terrible as the desert day, gentle and friendly as the desert
-night. True to his pledged word, unswerving in obedience to the laws
-and customs of his race, dignified in bearing, lofty in discourse,
-unsurpassed in self-restraint and endurance, more sensitive than almost
-any other man to deeds of prowess, to glory and honour, and not less
-to the golden web of fancy into which his poetic genius weaves such
-wondrous pictures and twines such tender fragrant flowers; yet is he
-cunning and crafty towards his enemies, a bounden slave to his customs,
-unscrupulous in his demands, mean and paltry in his exactions, greedy
-in his pleasures, unrestrained in cruelty, terrible in revenge, to-day
-the noble host, to-morrow a threatening and shameless beggar, now a
-proud robber and again a pitiable thief. In short he is to the stranger
-as fickle and changeful as the desert itself. His horse has the same
-keen, fiery, expressive eyes, the same strength and agility in its
-thin, almost fragile limbs, the same endurance, the same frugality, the
-same nature as his master, for they grew up together under the same
-tent, they rest and dwell beneath the same roof. The animal is not the
-slave but the companion, the friend of its master, the playmate of his
-children. Proud, spirited, and even savage in the open desert, it is as
-quiet as a lamb in the tent; it seems altogether inseparable from its
-master.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 53.--Band of Mounted Bedouins.]
-
-In all the deserts which are, in name at least, under the sway of the
-Khedive of Egypt, the Bedouins no longer fill the rôle which was theirs
-in earlier times, and still belongs to them in Arabia and in North-west
-Africa. For between them and the Egyptian government there is a strict
-treaty which binds them to allow caravans to pass through their haunts
-unmolested. Thus robberies in the desert are of the rarest occurrence,
-and an encounter with the Bedouins raises the less apprehension, since
-these children of the desert are usually the owners of the hired
-camels. At the same time the true lords of the waste still love to
-cling to the old customs and to retain a semblance of their dominion,
-so that it is prudent before setting out on a desert journey to claim
-safe-conduct from some recognized chief. With this in possession, an
-encounter took form somewhat as follows.
-
-One of the sunburnt horsemen sprang forward from the troop, and turned
-to the leader or head of our caravan.
-
-“Peace be with thee, O stranger!”
-
-“And with thee, O chief, be the grace of God, His mercy, and His
-compassion!”
-
-“Whither journey ye, sirs?”
-
-“To Belled-Aali, O Sheikh.”
-
-“Do ye journey under protection?”
-
-“We journey under the safe-conduct of his Excellency, the Khedive.”
-
-“And no other?”
-
-“Also Sheikh Soliman, Mohammed Cheir Allah, Ibn Sidi Aulad Aali, has
-granted us protection and peace.”
-
-“Then are ye welcome and blessed.”
-
-“The Giver of all blessings bless thee and thy father, O chief!”
-
-“Have ye need of ought? My men will supply it. In Wadi Ghitere are our
-tents, and ye are welcome there if ye seek rest. If not, may Allah
-grant a prosperous journey!”
-
-“He will be with us, for He is merciful.”
-
-“And the Guide on all good ways.”
-
-“Amen, O chief!”
-
-And the troop wheels off; rider and steed become one; the light hoofs
-seem scarce to touch the sand, the white burnooses flutter in the wind,
-and the poet’s words rise into memory--
-
-  “Bedouin, on thy steed, thou art a poem in thyself!”
-
-Such are some of the fascinating pictures shown to the receptive eye.
-The more intimately one comes to know the desert, the more it grows
-upon one, alleviating and lessening all toil and discomfort. Yet the
-last hours of the journey are those of greatest joy. When the first
-palm-village of cultivated land appears in sight, when the silver line
-of the sacred river is once more visible, gladness fills the heart.
-Men and beasts hasten as if to prove that the glad reality is not an
-illusion which may vanish in the mist. But the goal becomes more and
-more distinct; it seems as if we had never seen fresher colours, we
-fancy that nowhere else can there be trees so green, water so cool.
-With a final effort the camels push on, far too slowly for their
-impatient riders. Friendly greetings reach our ears. The village on
-the Nile is reached at last. From all the huts throng men and women,
-the aged and the children. Inquisitively they crowd around the camp,
-men and women curiously questioning, youths and maidens eager for
-the dance. Tambura and tarabuka, the zither and drum of the country,
-invite to motion; and the dancing-girls gladden the eyes of strangers
-and countrymen alike. Even the creaking of the water-wheel on the
-river, formerly a thousand times cursed, seems musical to-day. The
-evening brings fresh joys. Comfortably couched on the cool and elastic
-divan, the foreigner pledges the native in palm-wine or merieza--the
-nectar of the land; while the sound of zither and drum, and the
-rhythmic hand-clapping of the dancing youths and maidens form a merry
-accompaniment to the dainty banquet. But at length the approaching
-night begins to press its claims. Tambura and tarabuka sink into
-silence and the dance comes to an end; one after another, refreshed and
-well-content, the travellers seek rest. At length only one is left, a
-son of Khahira, the mother of the world, whom sleep still refuses to
-bless. From beside the flickering camp-fire comes his simple, tremulous
-song--
-
-  Sweet night, dear night, thou mak’st me sad,
-    Longer thou seem’st and alway longer;
-  No peace from thee I ever had,
-    With thee day’s pain grows ever stronger.
-
-  Oh, gentle night, how long, how long,
-    Since these poor eyes last saw her beauty!
-  Seeing aught else they do her wrong;
-    When will she come to claim their duty?
-
-  Oh, tender night, now hovering near,
-    Lighten Love’s load, and my undoing!
-  Bring Peace to me, Peace to my Dear,
-    Shelter my Sweet, and speed my wooing!
-
-But this lover’s plaint also dies away, and the silence of the night is
-unbroken save by the murmurings of the wavelets on the sacred river.
-
-
-
-
-NUBIA AND THE NILE RAPIDS.[B]
-
-[B] In order to understand and appreciate this chapter the reader
-should bear in mind that the Nile is in flood from June to about the
-end of September, being at its highest in the latter month, and at
-its lowest in April. At low Nile the rapids present a very different
-appearance from what they do at high Nile.
-
-
-Egypt and Nubia, though immediately adjacent, and closely connected
-by a river common to both, are essentially different countries.
-Through Egypt the sacred Nile flows with leisurely dignity, through
-Nubia it rushes in furious haste; over Egypt it distributes its
-blessings widely, in Nubia it is hemmed in by high rocky banks; in
-Egypt it triumphs over the desert, in Nubia the desert is supreme;
-Egypt is a garden which the river has formed after thousands of years
-of ceaseless labour, Nubia is a desert which it cannot conquer. Of
-course this desert has its oases like any other, but they are few and
-scarcely worth considering in comparison with the lands on both sides
-of the stream which remain in unchangeable sterility and desolation.
-Throughout the greater part of the long winding valley which forms what
-we call Nubia, dark, gleaming masses of rock rise from the bed of the
-river or from its immediate vicinity, and over wide tracts prevent the
-growth of almost all vegetation. They have for their sole adornment the
-waves of golden yellow sand which are blown from the deserts on east
-and west, and gradually slide down the rocks into the river. The sun
-beats from the deep-blue and rarely cloudy sky; for many years together
-not a single shower refreshes the thirsty ground. In the deeply cut
-gorges the life-giving waves of the fertilizing stream contend in vain
-with the unimpressionable rocks, on which they hurl themselves roaring
-and foaming, blustering and thundering, as if enraged that their
-generosity is met with ingratitude and their beneficence with disdain.
-The field on which this battle is waged is the region of the rapids.
-
-Very few travellers who visit the lower valley of the Nile ever reach
-the rapids of its middle course. A few go beyond the so-called first
-cataract, scarcely one in a hundred passes the second. Wady Halfa, a
-village immediately below the second group of rapids, is the usual
-goal of travellers; only purposes of exploration, the passion for the
-chase, or some commercial enterprise, leads any one further south.
-For it is at Wady Haifa that the difficulties of a journey into the
-interior really begin, and it is therefore not surprising that the
-great majority turn the prow of the boat homewards at that village of
-palms. But no one who is young and vigorous, energetic, and not too
-luxuriously inclined, will ever regret if he pushes farther south.
-In the Nile valley, which is by no means rich in picturesqueness,
-the region of the rapids is quite unique. Grandeur and beauty,
-sombreness and gaiety, desolation and overflowing life mark the scenes
-that here follow one another in quick succession; but they are all
-desert pictures which this landscape presents, and one must forget
-conventional standards in order to appreciate them as they deserve.
-The man who is unable to appreciate the desert, to revel in its wealth
-of colour, to endure its scorching heat, and to find refreshment in
-its solemn night, would do well to avoid the desert of the Nile. But
-he who travels through the country of the rapids with open eye and
-receptive heart, who in his frail boat engages, wherever possible, in
-the struggle with the furiously foaming waves, will have his whole
-life enriched with precious memories. For never will the impressive
-spectacle that his eye has looked on fade from his mental vision, never
-will the sublime melody the stream has sung in his ear cease to echo
-in his soul. Such, at least, is my experience, and I have journeyed
-through the rocky valley of Nubia on land and on water, up the river
-and down, contending with the waves, ay, and with hunger and want, and
-looking down on the rapids from the tops of high cliffs as well as from
-the camel’s back.
-
-It is customary to speak of three cataracts. Each consists of a series
-of rapids, which, for about a mile, make navigation in the highest
-degree difficult and dangerous. At the first cataract there is properly
-but one rapid; taking the second and third together there are about
-thirty which the Nubian boatmen call by special names. There are no
-waterfalls which make navigation of any kind impossible, not at least
-on the regular route where, in addition to passing vessels, there ply
-boats specially built and equipped for the rapids.[76]
-
-When the traveller in his progress up the sacred river has traversed
-the north-easterly tract where the river is hemmed in between the
-Rocks of the Chain (_Jebel Silsileh_), the scenery changes abruptly.
-Behind him lies Egypt, in other words the low-lying valley, broadening
-seawards into a boundless plain; before him rises the rocky threshold
-of Nubia. The contrast is most striking. Monotony is replaced by
-diversity. It is indeed true that even the scenery of Egypt presents
-many a picture which is stimulating to the eye and refreshing to the
-soul; it is true that its beauty is enhanced, especially in the morning
-and evening hours, by the wondrous brilliance of southern light; but
-taken as a whole it seems monotonous, for everywhere the prospect is
-alike, whether the eye rests on rocks of sandstone and limestone by
-the margin of the valley, or takes a wider survey over the river and
-the fields. One and the same picture, with little variety, is repeated
-a hundred times: hills and fruitful plains, river-banks and islands,
-thickets of mimosa, groves of palms and sycamores, towns and villages,
-everywhere bear essentially the same stamp. But at the rock-masses of
-the first cataract, which form the last barrier overcome by the stream
-as it presses towards the sea, Egypt really ends and Nubia begins. No
-longer does the boat glide smoothly on a surface majestically calm; it
-has to fight its way among low masses of rock, and among rocky cones
-that rear themselves above the waves.
-
-Nearing the first cataract, we see, high on a precipitous headland
-on the left bank, a wretched and yet impressive piece of Arabic
-architecture, the sepulchre of Sheikh Musas, the patron saint of the
-first rapids. Further on lies the island of Elephantine, rich in palms,
-and immediately beyond is Assuan. The way is hemmed in by masses of
-rock, from whose surface the waves, storming for thousands of years,
-have not succeeded in obliterating hieroglyphics graven in the time of
-the Pharaohs. These rocks compel the boat to follow a tortuous course,
-till at length it finds a safe landing-place in a calm creek, which is,
-however, so near the rapids that it is resonant with their raging.
-
-It is venerable ground on which we stand. Through the inscriptions
-in the sacred characters of the ancient Egyptian people, past ages
-converse with us in intelligible speech. “Ab”, or ivory-store, was
-the name of the town Elephantine on the island of that name, and the
-island remains though even the ruins of the town have almost completely
-disappeared: “Sun” or Syene was the township on the right bank where
-the modern Assuan stands. Elephantine was the most southerly harbour of
-the old Egyptians and the capital of the southern Nile district; it was
-the ancient depot for produce from the interior, especially for ivory,
-highly prized then as now. “Sun” was probably only a village of working
-people, but as such by no means of less importance than Elephantine.
-For near here, from the earliest times, the “Mat” or “Ethiopian stone”
-of Herodotus was quarried, and was brought to the river-banks to be
-loaded on the boats, which bore it to its destination. It was from
-this place that the valuable stone derived the name of Syenite, which
-it still bears.[77] Inscriptions which are found on monuments dating
-from the oldest dynasties of Egyptian kings, that is to say from
-two or three thousand years before the Christian era, make repeated
-mention of “Sun”, and countless other hieroglyphics in the adjacent
-quarries testify to the importance of this industrial village. These
-quarries extend over many square miles of the desert to the east of
-the cataract. From them were hewn those immense blocks which form the
-columns, obelisks, cornices, and lintels of the temples, and fill us
-with wonder and admiration. With them, too, the ancients roofed in the
-sepulchral chambers of the pyramids, confident that they would bear
-the stupendous burden piled above them. “All around us here”, says my
-learned friend Dümichen, “we see how human hands laboured to loosen the
-valuable stone from the wall of rock, and to immortalize this or that
-event in sculpture or inscription. Everywhere the rock has become a
-memorial of the past, and numerous inscriptions, often on the highest
-peaks of the mountains, proclaim the glory of the divine trinity
-worshipped by the first province of Upper Egypt--the Cataract-god
-Chnum-Ra, and his two consorts Sati and Anuke--or celebrate the
-exploits of Egyptian kings and high officers of state. Some of these
-go back to the oldest historic times, and yet how young they seem in
-comparison with the work, which through innumerable ages the Egyptian
-Sun-god Ra has wrought upon the stone. For the rocks, all around which
-are as yet untouched by human hand, present to us a surface covered
-with a dark crust gleaming like enamel; while the cut surfaces of the
-syenite (to many of which we may certainly ascribe an age of four
-thousand years) still show, like the blocks in the quarries, the
-characteristic red of the granite in its pristine vividness--they are
-still too young to show the impress of Time’s hand.”
-
-From any of the higher peaks on the banks one can get a survey of a
-part of the cataract. Two deserts meet at the Nile, and join hands
-across it by means of hundreds of small rocky islands. Every island
-splits the stream, forcing it into a narrower channel, through which,
-however, it rushes all the more violently, ceaselessly dashing against
-the ruins of the rocky barrier through which it burst hundreds of
-thousands of years ago. The river seems to be intent on sweeping them
-away to utter destruction, and to be enraged at finding its opponents
-still invincible. The thunder of its waters resounds in the ears of
-the spectator above, and seems to him a fit accompaniment to the
-magnificent scene beneath him. Restless as the ever-flowing waves, the
-eye travels over the chaos of rocks; it embraces hundreds of single
-pictures in one glance, and then combines these into one sublime,
-harmonious whole, the stiff masses of gleaming rock contrasting sharply
-with the white foam of the hissing water, the golden-yellow deserts
-that bound them on either side, and the dark, cloudless sky overhead.
-The upper region of the rapids is especially charming. A chain of black
-rocks, the natural boundary-wall between Egypt and Nubia, stretches
-obliquely across the river, and sweeps out on both right and left
-bank in a wide curve, thus forming before the eye of the spectator
-a great basin almost completely surrounded by rocky ramparts. These
-walls consist in part of continuous masses, but in part also of loose
-blocks--round, oval, and angular--lying one upon the other as though
-piled up by the hand of some giant. Here and there portions of this
-wonderful rampart project and again recede; here and there they rise
-like islands from the bed of the ancient lake which they encircled
-before the mighty stream broke its way through.
-
-In the midst of these prehistoric ruins lies the green, palm-clad
-island of Philæ with its stately temple. I know of no more impressive
-picture than this. Surrounded by dark, rugged rocks, encompassed by the
-ceaseless roar of the waves as they beat on its foundations, bedecked
-with fruitful palms and fragrant mimosas, the temple stands--a striking
-emblem of inner peace amid raging strife. The river shouts its mighty
-battle-song; the palms wave back an answer of peace. A worthier place
-could scarcely be found for the worship of the great god to whom it was
-dedicated. Amid such solitude, and in such an environment, the spirit
-of the youths whom the wise priests taught must surely have found both
-nurture and life, must surely have turned to what is high and holy,
-have recognized the kernel within the sensory symbolism of their cult,
-and have beheld the veiled image of Sais.
-
-In the sacred trinity--Isis, Osiris, and Horus--to whom the temple of
-Philæ was dedicated, Isis stood supreme. “Isis, the great goddess, the
-queen of heaven, sovereign of all gods and goddesses, who with her son
-Horus and her brother Osiris is worshipped in every city; the exalted,
-divine mother, the spouse of Osiris, she is the queen of Philæ.” Such
-is the tenor of the inscriptions in the temple itself. But records in
-all the different kinds of writing that were in use at various epochs
-of Egyptian history tell also of the changes which have befallen the
-temple in the course of ages, down to the time when the Christian
-priests, who had succeeded the servants of Isis, were driven from the
-sanctuary by hordes of immigrant Arabs.
-
-To-day the greater part of Philæ is in ruins. Instead of the
-solemn chant of the priests, one hears only the simple song of the
-desert-lark; but the waves of the stream still roar in their strength
-as they did thousands of years ago. The island is desolate, but the
-peace of the temple has remained to it. And, in spite of all changes,
-island and temple are still the jewel of the first cataract.[78]
-
-For some distance upwards from this point the Nile is free from
-rocks, yet quite incapable of bestowing its blessing upon the shore.
-Laboriously man endeavours to force from the stream what is elsewhere
-so lavishly bestowed. Wheel after wheel creaks as it raises the
-life-giving water to the narrow fringe of cultivation along the banks.
-But in most places the desert and the rocks press so closely on the
-river that no space is left for field or grove of palms. For long
-stretches one sees nothing but stunted weeds, between which the yellow
-drift-sand rolls ceaselessly down, as though it would help the desert
-even here to a victory over the sacred giver of fruitful land.
-
-To the south of Wady Halfa, the most southern village of the tract
-above mentioned, the stream again rages among impeding rocky islands.
-Countless masses of stone, blocks and cones of rock, compel the river
-to divide its forces; the eye is bewildered by a chaos of rock and
-water, the like of which is to be seen nowhere else. When the water
-is high, the roar of the waves whirling and surging between the rocks
-drowns the human voice; the river rumbles and thunders, rages and
-blusters, dashes and hisses, so that the very rocks appear to quake.
-
-Beyond the rapids and whirlpools, which at this point are almost
-continuous, the full-swollen Nile lies like a broad, calm lake; but
-this pleasant picture, enhanced by the presence of several green
-islands, is circumscribed by narrow limits. For, further up, the bed of
-the stream is again divided by countless rocky islands, which mark the
-beginning of the “Batte el Hadjar”, or “rocky valley” of the boatmen,
-in which lie no less than ten considerable rapids. It is by far the
-dreariest region in Nubia, or in the whole Nile valley. From the river
-there is usually nothing to be seen but sky and water, rock and sand.
-The rocks rise steeply, sometimes almost vertically, on either bank,
-and between them and the countless islands the Nile is so cooped up
-that during its flood-time it reaches a height of 40 to 50 feet above
-its lowest level.
-
-The rocky banks of the stream are as smooth as if they had been
-polished; they gleam and glow by day as if they had just left the
-earth’s fiery interior. The beneficent stream rushes over them,
-leaving scarcely a trace behind; indeed, only in a very few places
-can it possibly exercise its prerogative of blessing. Here and there,
-in receding creeks, or behind projecting bastions, which divert the
-violent current, the river deposits its fertile mud and may carry a
-few seeds to a resting-place. Then, even in this wilderness, there
-is germination and growth, foliage and flowers. On all the islands
-in whose rocky clefts mud has been caught and kept, and in all the
-inlets which the current does not sweep, there is a growth of willows
-and scattered mimosas, evidences of life in the realm of death. When
-a willow has found a foothold it sends out root after root, shoot
-after shoot, and soon the naked ground is clothed in enlivening green.
-While the water is low the willows gradually spread; when the flood
-comes the waves roll over both island and willow-beds. Higher and
-higher rises the stream, fiercer and stronger press the waves; the
-willows bow before them, but keep firm hold of the rocks. For months
-the flood buries them, all but a few twigs which project above the
-boiling, hissing waves; yet the roots hold fast, and the shrubs sprout
-with renewed vigour as soon as the flood subsides. In such pleasant
-spots, amid the dreary waste, signs of animal life are to be seen,
-as in some other parts of the Nile valley. Here and there among the
-willows a pair of Nile-geese have settled, lively and clamorous; on the
-rock above, the pretty water-wagtail has made its home; from the shore
-cliffs sounds the song of the blue rock-thrush or the black wheatear;
-on the blossoming mimosas a gorgeous sun-bird--the first tropical bird
-one meets--is busily at work; and now and then one may come upon a
-flock of pretty little rock-partridges. These, and a few others, form
-the sparse fauna of the rocky valley, but during the migrating season
-they are often joined by large flocks of birds, who make the course
-of the stream their highway to the interior, and rest here and there
-on the journey. But they hasten on again at their utmost speed, since
-the rocky valley is incapable of supporting them even for a few days;
-indeed, it is often difficult to understand where they find their daily
-bread.
-
-But these are not the only settlers in this wilderness of waters. Even
-men are able to find a home here. At intervals of a mile or more one
-comes upon a miserable straw hut, in which a Nubian and his family eke
-out a meagre subsistence. A small creek between the precipices on the
-shore filled with fertile mud, or it may be only a deposit of mud upon
-the rocks themselves, forms the paltry farm which he cultivates. The
-owner of a creek is rich compared with his poor neighbour who can call
-himself master only of a mere mud-bed. At the risk of his life the
-latter swims to spots which are inaccessible on foot, and sows some
-beans on the mud-plot from which the falling stream has just receded.
-Some days later, when the river has sunk still lower, he repeats his
-visit and his sowing operations, and so proceeds on the parts of the
-mud-bank successively uncovered as long as the river continues to
-fall. Thus at such places one sees fields of beans at all stages of
-growth, becoming broader as the water sinks; and the frugal husbandman
-is engaged at once with sowing and reaping. In the most favourable
-circumstances a deeply receding inlet, filled with Nile mud, makes it
-possible for the farmer to erect a water-wheel and to irrigate a field
-a few acres in extent. The fortunate possessor is then able to keep a
-cow, and to live at least in tolerable comfort, although he is still so
-poor that even the Egyptian government does not venture to burden him
-with taxes. But such places are rare oases in this forbidding waste.
-The boatman, fighting his way up-stream, welcomes every bush; he greets
-a palm-tree with manifest joy, a bean-field, perhaps hoped for all day
-long, with exultation, a water-wheel with thanks to the All-merciful.
-For it is not merely that his bold spirit has learned to know fear in
-this valley of rocks, but also because he knows well that, should his
-supply of provisions fail, bitter want would befall him, and starvation
-stare him in the face. Down-stream the well-steered boat speeds rapidly
-through this land of desolation and poverty; but sailing up-stream it
-often lies, as if spell-bound, for hours, or even days, at a time,
-waiting for a favourable wind, sheltered by a rock from the force of a
-rapid. The boatman, who becomes “sea-sick” with the incessant rocking
-of his craft, may roam or swim for miles without coming upon men or
-fields.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 54.--An Egyptian _Sakieh_ or Water-wheel.]
-
-At its southern limit the rocky valley passes almost abruptly into the
-fertile country of middle Nubia. Before the traveller lies a narrow
-basin shut in by two deserts, and with several large islands in its
-midst. The basin is filled with mud, and of this the islands are
-composed. Though we do not yet find all the wealth of tropical life,
-there are hints of it in the freshness and vigour of both fauna and
-flora. Almost continuous palm-groves, in which ripen the most delicious
-dates in the world, border this pleasant oasis in which the labours
-of the husbandman are rewarded by rich harvests. Christ-thorns and
-various mimosas, not hitherto seen, give evidence that we have crossed
-the equator. Besides the sun-bird already mentioned, there are now
-other birds characteristic of the interior of Africa. In the first
-dhurra-field which one carefully observes, the eyes are gladdened by
-a sight of the fiery weaver-bird, as beautiful as it is agile, which
-has its home among the stems, and from time to time appears like a
-flash of fire on the top of an ear, uttering from this perch its simple
-whirring and buzzing song, and inciting others of its kind to a like
-display. In the holes and crevices of the mud-huts other members of the
-family, especially steel-finches and blood-finches, have established
-themselves; in the gardens round the houses the cape-pigeons have
-settled; on the sand-banks in the stream have been hollowed out the
-shallow mud-nests of the shear-waters or skimmers--night-terns, of
-peculiar habit, who do not begin to seek their prey until the twilight,
-and fish, not by diving, but by skimming over the waves and rapidly
-ploughing the water with their bills, thus catching small creatures
-which swim on or near the surface.
-
-But this cheerful region has narrow limits. Below the ruined temple
-of Barkal the desolate and barren hills again encroach on the river,
-excluding fertile land and steppe alike. The last group of rapids
-now lies before the traveller who is making his way up-stream. The
-region of the third group of cataracts is not so unutterably poor as
-the rocky valley. Well-tilled, though narrow, strips of land lie on
-either bank, and there are fertile islands in mid-stream; thus there
-is not that look of hopeless poverty which is characteristic of the
-region already traversed. The masses of rock on the banks are more
-broken up than those in the rocky valley, and there are many of the
-so-called “stone-seas”, hillocks and walls of wildly jumbled blocks
-and rolled stones, such as mighty streams leave behind when they dig
-their bed deeper in the valley. On each side, usually on the top of
-the cliff next the stream, there are great blocks of more than a
-hundred cubic yards in bulk, which rest so loosely on their substratum
-that they oscillate in violent wind, and could be hurled down by a
-few men with levers. In many places these stone-seas present a most
-extraordinary appearance. It seems just as if giants had for a whim
-amused themselves by erecting cones and pyramids, mounds and ramparts
-to form a weirdly-disordered parapet on the river’s rocky embankment.
-But it is not so much to this strange natural architecture as to
-ancient works of man’s own hand, that the third group of rapids owes
-its characteristic appearance. On all suitable rock-projections, and
-especially on the larger islands, rise buildings with inclosing walls,
-towers, and jagged battlements, such as are not seen elsewhere in the
-Nile valley. These are fortifications of ancient days, castles of the
-river-chiefs, erected for protection and defiance, to secure life and
-property against the invasions of hostile neighbouring tribes. The
-ramparts and battlements are built of unhewn stones, rudely piled one
-upon the other, usually cemented only with Nile mud; the thick walls
-of the superstructure, roofed with sun-dried mud-tiles, have for the
-most part fallen or are still falling. These fortresses impress one not
-so much by their architecture as by the boldness of their position.
-A naked, deep-black, glistening rock rises from the midst of the
-rushing waters, and bears on its summit one of these forts. The waves
-beat wildly around its base, but it stands absolutely unshaken by any
-flood, and towers aloft, an impregnable refuge. On the down-stream
-side, in the shelter of the rock, the life-giving stream has added
-beauty to sublimity. For in the course of ages the mud accumulated in
-the still-water, and an island gradually rose above the flood. On this
-fertile island man planted palms and laid out fields; and thus, among
-the rocks there arose a pleasing scene of security and comfort, all the
-more impressive in its contrast to the wilderness of restless water and
-barren rock.
-
-At the southern boundary of the third group of rapids begin the steppes
-and forests of tropical Africa, in which rocks are found only here and
-there on the banks of the main stream and its great tributaries. For
-over 450 miles the Bahr-el-Abiad and Bahr-el-Azrek, the White and the
-Blue Nile, flow through a fruitful and almost flat country; thereafter
-there are again some rapids. But they do not belong to the picture
-whose chief outlines I have been endeavouring to sketch: Nubia alone is
-the land of the Nile cataracts.
-
-While it is difficult to tell to what degree the Nubian has been
-influenced by his surroundings, or made by them the manner of man
-he is, this at least may be safely said, that he is as markedly
-differentiated from his neighbour, the modern Egyptian, as his home is
-different from the land of Egypt. The truth is, they have nothing in
-common, neither race nor speech, neither customs nor habits, scarcely
-even religion, although both to-day repeat the creed, “There is but one
-God, and Mohammed is His prophet”.
-
-The modern Egyptians are of mixed blood, being descended from the
-ancient Egyptians and the immigrant Arabic hordes from Yemen and
-Hedjaz, who amalgamated with the earlier inhabitants of the lower Nile
-valley. The Nubians are descendants of the “wild Blemyes”, with whom
-the Pharaohs of the ancient, middle, and more recent dynasties, as well
-as the Egyptian governors of the Ptolemies, contended ceaselessly, and
-by no means always successfully. The former use the language in which
-the “Revelations” of Mohammed are recorded, the latter use an old
-Ethiopian speech now split up into several dialects; the former employ
-an ancient mode of writing, the latter never have had any which has
-taken organic root in their own language. The former still preserve
-the seriousness at once characteristic of the old Egyptians, and of
-the sons of the desert from whom they sprang. Like all Orientals they
-give themselves, throughout their whole life, deep anxiety about the
-world to come, and order their customs and habits according to their
-fantastic notions of it. The Nubians, on the other hand, have preserved
-the cheerful joyousness of the Ethiopians, living like children for the
-present, taking what is pleasant without thanks and what is painful
-with loud complainings, and under the influence of the moment readily
-forgetting both. The yoke of foreign masters rests heavily on both
-alike; the Egyptian bears it with groaning and grumbling, the Nubian
-with equanimity and without resistance; the former is a sullen slave,
-the latter a willing servant. Every Egyptian fancies himself high above
-the Nubian, regards himself as nobler in race, speech, and customs;
-boasts of his culture, though that is restricted to but a few of the
-people, and seeks to oppress the dark-skinned race as completely as
-he himself is oppressed. The Nubian recognizes the general physical
-superiority of the Egyptian, and thoroughly acknowledges the
-intellectual culture of the prominent members of the neighbour-people,
-but he seems to be scarcely conscious of his own deficiency in culture,
-and is even inclined, in his turn, to enslave the less strong or less
-gifted people of the interior. Yet even with the purchased negro he is
-on a brotherly footing, and seems to have patiently submitted to his
-burdensome fate, after having tried in vain to contend successfully
-against a superior force. In every fibre of his being he is still a
-child of nature, while the Egyptian seems the sad type of a decayed
-and still decadent people. The Nubian, in the most barren country in
-the world, still retains a measure of freedom; the Egyptian, on the
-richest of soils, has become a slave, who is not likely ever to venture
-to shake off his chains, though he still talks vaingloriously of the
-greatness of his past.
-
-In point of fact, the Nubian has as much right, if not more, to glory
-in the exploits of his ancestors and to fortify his soul in recounting
-their prowess. For these ancestors fought bravely not only with the
-Pharaohs and the Romans, but also with the Turks and the Arabs--the
-governing and subject races of modern Egypt[79]--nor would they have
-been overcome had they not been without fire-arms. At the time of my
-first visit to the Nile, eye-witnesses of some of the last battles were
-still alive, and from their lips I learned enough to enable me to do
-justice, in one respect at least, to a manly, much misjudged people.
-The events to which I refer took place in the beginning of the third
-decade of this century.
-
-After Mohammed-Aali, the energetic but unscrupulous and even cruel
-founder of the family now ruling in Egypt, had, in March 1811,
-treacherously fallen upon and massacred the chiefs of the Mamelukes
-whom he had invited to meet him, his mastery of the Lower Nile seemed
-assured. But the proud warriors, whose leaders had been done to
-death by shameful stratagem and unworthy breach of faith, were not
-completely subjugated. Brooding revenge, the Mamelukes chose new
-leaders and betook themselves to Nubia, there to collect their forces,
-to renew the combat with their artful foe, or at least to threaten
-him. Mohammed-Aali recognized the danger, and delayed not to meet
-it. His army followed the still-scattered troops of the Mamelukes.
-The latter, too weak to venture open battle, were forced to take to
-the river-forts, where, fighting desperately and defiant of death,
-they fell to a man. The Nubians were conquered at the same time,
-and, submitting to their fate, were condemned to servitude. Only
-the brave race of the warlike Sheikier resisted. In 1820 they met
-the Turkish-Egyptian army near the village of Korti--an heroic but
-undisciplined people, accustomed to win victory with lance, sword,
-and shield, against well-drilled soldiers equipped with fire-arms.
-According to ancient custom the women were present at the battle to
-stimulate the combatants with their shrill battle-cry, to raise the
-children aloft in their arms, that the fathers, seeing them, might be
-fired to deeds defiant of death.
-
-The Nubians fought in a manner worthy of their sires; bravely they
-pressed forward against the artillery, which wrought fell destruction
-in their ranks. Mightily they smote with their long swords at the
-supposed monsters, leaving the deep impress of their sharp blades on
-the brazen barrels of the cannons; but the Egyptians conquered. Not
-bravery, but superiority of weapons won the day. Amid screams of woe
-from the women, the brown warriors took to flight. But the former,
-possessed by a wild despair, preferring glorious death to shameful
-servitude, pressed their children to their breasts and threw themselves
-in hundreds into the river, which the blood of their husbands had
-reddened. The deserts on both sides of the stream prevented the
-fugitives from reaching any refuge, and finally there was nothing left
-to them but to surrender and to bend their hitherto unbowed necks under
-the yoke of the conqueror.
-
-Only once again did the old heroic spirit burst into clear flames. One
-of the chiefs, who is already celebrated in the saga of Melik el Nimmr,
-or “the panther-king”, collected his people at Shendy in South Nubia,
-for the lash of the cruel conqueror had become unbearable. Suspicious
-of his intentions, Ismael Pasha, son of the Egyptian governor and
-commander of the forces, set out against him, and making use of all
-available boats, appeared at Shendy before Melik Nimmr had by any means
-completed his preparations. Impossible demands were made in order
-to compel Melik Nimmr to absolute subjection. He, recognizing the
-impending ruin, braced himself for action. While he feigned submission,
-his messengers hastened from hut to hut stirring into flames the sparks
-of insurrection which glimmered everywhere beneath the ashes. By crafty
-representations he induced Ismael Pasha to leave the security of his
-ship. He lured him to the roomy though straw-thatched royal dwelling,
-surrounded by a thick hedge of thorns and by immense heaps of straw
-which, according to the panther-king’s assurance, were intended to
-supply the camel-fodder which the Pasha demanded.
-
-A splendid feast, such as Ismael has never seen, will Melik Nimmr
-give to his lord and master. He begs leave to invite all the officers
-of the Egyptian army, and receives the Pasha’s permission. Captains,
-officers, and staff are gathered to the feast in the king’s humble
-palace. Outside the fence of thorns sounds the tarabuka, the drum
-of the country which calls to the dance, as also to the battle. The
-young folk, festively anointed, engage in a merry war-dance. Hurled
-lances whirr through the air, and are deftly caught on the small
-shields of the company of dancers ranged opposite. Long swords are
-whirled dexterously, and as skilfully warded off. Ismael is mightily
-delighted with the handsome, dusky youths, the graceful movements of
-their supple limbs, the boldness of their attack, the security of their
-defence. Thicker and thicker becomes the whirling throng in front of
-the banquet-hall, more and more sword-dancers appear, more violent and
-riotous become their movements, and more rapidly beat the drums. Then
-suddenly the tarabuka changes its tone; it is echoed a hundred-fold in
-all quarters of Shendy, and not less in the neighbouring villages on
-this side and on that side of the river. A great cry of rage in the
-highest notes of women’s voices fills the air; and women naked to the
-loins, with dust and ashes on their oil-soaked hair, bearing firebrands
-in their hands, rush upon the king’s hall, hurling their brands on the
-walls and on the surrounding heaps of straw. A monstrous sheaf of fire
-shoots up to heaven, and amid the flames, resounding with cries of
-horror and woe, of execration and rage, the death-dealing lances of the
-dancers fly in thousands. Neither Ismael Pasha nor any of his feasting
-comrades escape a horrible death.
-
-It was as if champions of the down-trodden people had risen from the
-ground. Whoever could bear weapons turned against the cruel enemy;
-women, forgetful of their sex, joined the ranks of the combatants;
-girls and boys strove with the strength and endurance of men towards
-the common end. Shendy and Metamme were in one night freed of all their
-foes. Only a few of the Egyptians, quartered in the distant villages,
-escaped the bath of blood, and brought the gruesome news to the second
-commander, then stationed in Kordofan.
-
-He, Mohammed-Bei el Defterdar, still spoken of by the Nubians as “el
-Djelad” or the devil, hastened with all his forces to Shendy, defeated
-the Nubians for the second time, and glutted his revenge by the
-slaughter of more than half the population of the unhappy country. The
-“panther-king” succeeded in escaping to Abyssinia; but his subjects had
-to bow under the foreign yoke, and their children “grew up”, to use
-the expression of my informant, “in the blood of their fathers”. Since
-these misfortunes the Nubians have remained submissive thralls of their
-oppressors.
-
-The Nubians, or, as they call themselves, the Barabra, are a people
-of medium height, slim, and well-proportioned, with relatively
-small, well-formed hands and feet, with generally pleasant features,
-characterized by almond-shaped eyes, a high, straight or curved nose,
-slightly broadened only at the lobes, a small mouth, fleshy lips,
-an arched forehead, and a long chin. Their hair is fine, slightly
-curled but not woolly; the colour of their skin varies from bronze
-to dark-brown. They have a good carriage, their walk is light and
-elastic, and their other movements nimble and graceful. Thus they
-contrast very favourably with the negroes of the Upper Nile valley,
-and even with the Fungis of Eastern Soudan. The men shave the hair of
-the head either altogether, or all but a tuft at the top, and wear a
-tightly-fitting white cap, the _takhie_, over which on holidays a white
-cloth may be twisted like a turban. The clothing consists of a shawl,
-six to nine yards in length, wound around the upper part of the body,
-short breeches and sandals, and an additional blue or white robe-like
-garment on holidays. A dagger is carried on the left arm, and, when
-journeying, they also carry a lance. Leather rolls, which are said to
-contain amulets, and a little pocket, hung round the neck with cords,
-are the only ornaments worn by the men. The women arrange their hair in
-hundreds of small thin plaits, which they soak with mutton fat, butter,
-or castor-oil, thus diffusing an odour which to our nostrils seems
-almost unendurable; they tattoo various parts of their face and body
-with indigo; their lips are often dyed blue, and their palms always
-red. They adorn their necks with beads of glass, amber, and cornelian,
-amulet-pockets, and the like, their ankles with bangles of tinware,
-ivory, or horn, their ears, nostrils, and fingers with rings of
-silver. An apron reaching to the ankle is worn round the loins instead
-of trousers, and the shawl is wound in picturesque folds around breast
-and shoulders. The boys go naked until their sixth or eighth year; the
-girls wear from their fourth year an exceedingly becoming tassel-apron,
-made of fine strips of leather, and often decorated with glass-beads or
-shells.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 55.--A Nubian Village on the Nile.]
-
-All the Nubians settled in the valley of the river live in
-four-cornered huts, more or less cubical in form. The walls are
-sometimes built of sun-dried bricks, and then they slope slightly
-inwards as they ascend, or the house may consist of a light wooden
-framework covered with straw. Usually there is but one room with a low
-door, and often the windows are represented only by air-holes: in fact
-the whole arrangements are of the simplest. The furnishings consist
-of a raised couch--the _aukareb_--with a cover of interwoven strips
-of leather or bast; simple chests; well-finished, even water-tight
-baskets; leather-bags; vessels for holding water, dhurra beer, and
-palm wine; hand-mills or stones for grinding the grain; iron or earthen
-plates, slightly hollowed on the surface, for baking bread; hollow
-gourds, a hatchet, a gimlet, several mattocks, and the like. Mats,
-curtains, screens, and coverlets are accessories; bowls, flat woven
-dishes and their lids are luxuries which not every house possesses.
-The food consists chiefly, sometimes almost exclusively, of vegetable
-produce, milk, butter, and eggs. The grain, which is more frequently
-rubbed than ground, is worked into dough, and baked into a doughy
-bread. This may be eaten alone without any relish, or along with milk,
-or with thick mucilaginous soups made of various plants. To the latter
-may be added numerous pungent spices and some shreds of flesh, which
-has been dried in strips in the sun. The Nubian is more keen for drink
-than for food, and of every intoxicating liquor, whether of native
-or foreign origin, he always shows an eager, not to say excessive,
-appreciation.
-
-The habits and customs of the inhabitants of the middle Nile valley
-display a remarkable amalgamation of inherited and acquired characters.
-Taciturn and carelessly pliant, the Nubian seems as willing to adapt
-himself to what is new as to forget the traditions of his home.
-Worshipper of Islam more in name than in reality, he is as innocent of
-strict adherence to the tenets of his creed as of intolerance towards
-those of another faith. Until he has reached mature manhood or old
-age, he seldom or never respects the commandments of the Prophet with
-the conscientiousness of Arab or Turk. He circumcises his boys, gives
-his daughters in marriage, treats his wives, buries his dead, and
-celebrates the feasts according to the laws of Islam; but he thinks
-that he has done quite enough if he observes the external regulations
-of his cult. Song and dance, amusing conversation, jokes, and a
-drinking revel, please him better than the precepts and commandments of
-the Koran; he has no mind to engage in monastic exercises of faith and
-penitence, nor even in the fasts which other Mohammedans hold so sacred.
-
-At the same time, no one can call the Nubian weak-willed, fickle,
-servile, untrustworthy, treacherous, or, in short, bad. In lower Nubia,
-where he constantly meets with hundreds of travellers, rich in his
-eyes, and free-handed, he of course frequently becomes a shameless,
-indeed an unendurable beggar; and the strangers whom he importunes,
-because his poor land will not support him, do not tend to ennoble
-him. On the whole, however, he may fairly be called an honest fellow.
-One misses, it is true, the strength of will characteristic of his
-fathers, but spirit and courage are by no means lacking. He is gentler
-and more good-natured than the Egyptian, and not less trustworthy and
-enduring when he has to face difficult or dangerous tasks. In his poor,
-unproductive country his whole being is rooted. Of it he thinks with
-pathetic constancy when in a strange land; he labours, pinches, and
-saves with the one desire to pass his manhood and old age at home; and
-this desire, which compels him to a ceaseless struggle for existence,
-gives strength to both body and soul. The raging stream, with which he
-contends not less persistently than with the rocky land, arouses and
-preserves his courage and self-reliance, just as it develops his calm
-confidence in face of danger. Thanks to the qualities thus acquired,
-the Nubian is a trusty servant, a reliable companion, a restless
-_djellabi_ or merchant, and, above all, an adventurous, fearless
-boatman.
-
-It almost seems as if the parents disciplined their sons from their
-earliest years in all the services which they may have to discharge
-when grown up. As in Egypt, so in Nubia the children of the poor are
-hardly educated at all; they are at most urged to work, or rather are
-utilized according to the measure of their strength. However small
-the boy, he must do his work and fulfil his allotted task; however
-tender the girl, she must help her mother in the many duties which are
-laid upon the women of the land. But whereas in Egypt they scarcely
-allow the children any recreation, in Nubia merry games are as far as
-possible encouraged. In Egypt the boy becomes a thrall and the girl his
-slave, without ever knowing the joys of childhood; in Nubia even those
-who are more than half grown-up are often still children alike in their
-disposition and in their ways. Thus the Egyptian youths seem to us as
-unnaturally serious as their fathers, while the Nubians are as joyous
-as their mothers.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 56.--Nubian Children at Play.]
-
-Every traveller becomes familiar with a favourite game, which he
-cannot watch without delight, for it displays agility and grace of
-movement in combination with endurance and the spirit of adventure.
-It is the universal game of “Hare and Hounds” or “Follow my leader”.
-After their work is done the boys and girls unite in play. The boys
-leave the water-wheel around which they have driven the oxen from early
-morning till dusk, or the field in which they have worked with their
-father, or the young camel which they have been teaching to trot. The
-girls leave the younger brothers and sisters whom they have dragged
-rather than carried about all day, or the dough whose leavening they
-had to superintend, or the grinding-mill over which they have exerted
-their young strength. All hasten to the bank of the river. The boys
-are naked; the girls wear only their tasselled aprons. Laughing and
-chattering they go; like black ants they swarm on the golden yellow
-sand, running over and between the dark rocks. Those who are to chase
-stand picturesquely grouped, until the fugitive gets the requisite
-start. He gives the sign for the chase to begin, and they are all
-at his heels. Like a gazelle he speeds over the sandy plain to the
-nearest rocks, and like hounds in full cry his comrades give chase;
-like a chamois he climbs aloft upon the rocks, and not less nimbly
-do his pursuers follow; like a startled beaver he plunges into the
-stream to hide himself by diving, to escape by swimming, but there
-too they follow excitedly, both boys and girls, kicking like swimming
-dogs, halloing and screaming, chattering, laughing, chuckling, like a
-flock of gabbling ducks. For long the result remains undecided, and
-it not unfrequently happens that the bold fugitive swims right across
-the broad river before he falls into the hands of his pursuers. The
-parents of the merry company look on from the banks, and rejoice in the
-agility, courage, and endurance which their children display, and even
-the European is compelled to admit that he never saw creatures more
-joyous or more vigorous than those slim, dusky, sleek-skinned Nubian
-children.
-
-From boys who play thus boldly come the men who dare to ply the
-boatman’s craft among the rapids, to steer their boat down the river
-hurrying through the valley, with rushing, swirling, boiling, raging
-waves, and even to sail upwards against these. On many of their
-journeyings they do not even use a boat, but trust to frail floats of
-dhurra-stems, or swim with the help of inflated, air-tight skin-bags.
-These Nubian boatmen and swimmers have looked danger in the face so
-firmly, and so often, that the waves have never whispered either myth
-or saga in their ears. They know of no nixies or water-sprites, of
-no genii, good or bad, and the protecting powers whose help they ask
-before or during dangerous journeys have but the solemn might of fate,
-none of the spite of fickle spirits. Thus the saga is dumb in the
-rapids, in “the Belly of the Rocks”, in the plunging, whirling “Mother
-of Stones”, in the “Shatterer”, the “Camel’s Neck”, the “Coral”, or
-whatever the rapid may be called; the saga is dumb, though the whole
-region seems the fittest home of legends, and the boatman has too often
-reason to be tempted to believe in spirits who wish ill to human kind.
-
-_The rapids are navigated down-stream at high and middle water,
-up-stream at middle and low water._ When the Nile is lowest any boat
-going down-stream would be shattered; when the flood comes not even
-the largest sail would impel a vessel of considerable size against the
-current. At low water hundreds of men are requisitioned to haul one
-of the all-powerful government’s medium-sized barks up-stream; at the
-time of flood, they would scarcely be able to find footing on the few
-unflooded rock-islands on either side of the navigable channel. Full
-flood is the best time for going down-stream, and middle-water is best
-for going up, since at this time the regular north winds have set in
-and render practicable the use of sails.
-
-All the craft specially intended for the rapids are distinguished from
-other Nile boats by their small size and by peculiarities of build
-and of rigging. The hull has but few timbers, and the boards are held
-together by nails driven in obliquely. The sail is not triangular, but
-four-sided, and fastened to two yards in such a way that from the lower
-more or less canvas can be unfurled, or spread to the wind. The build
-and rigging are thoroughly adapted to the conditions. The smallness,
-especially the shortness of the boat, is adapted to the necessity for
-sharp turnings; the manner in which the boards are joined gives the
-hull an elastic flexibility and pliancy which are valuable when the
-vessel runs aground; the adaptability of the canvas to the strength
-of the wind and of the current makes it possible to maintain a fairly
-successful contest against a most variable resistance. Nevertheless
-no one would willingly go up or down stream alone; the boatmen wisely
-prefer to go in companies, so that they may aid one another whenever
-occasion demands.
-
-A fleet of boats plying up-stream presents a beautiful, inspiring
-picture as it sails away from a landing-place, or from some quiet
-creek, in which it has rested by night. All the navigable portions
-of the river show white sails, of which one can see twenty or more
-gliding among the dark rocks; at first all the craft are about the
-same distance apart, but soon the variable currents and breezes break
-their order. One and then another lags farther and farther behind, one
-and then another shoots ahead of the main body of the fleet, and in
-the course of an hour there is a wide interval between the first boat
-and the last. Yet, even with a strong and constant wind, the progress
-of the voyage is much less than it seems. The waves, indeed, break
-impetuously on the bow, but the boat has to contend with so strong an
-opposing current that its forward movement is really slow. It is an art
-to steer under such conditions, so that the boat may sail as straight
-as possible, consistent with avoiding the rocks hidden beneath the
-surface. For every tack means a change in the position of the unwieldy
-sail, and every time the boat touches a rock a leak is caused. Captain
-and crew have thus constant employment. Yet their work only begins
-in earnest when they near one of the countless rapids which have to
-be overcome. The sail, hitherto but partially unfurled, is now given
-fully to the wind; the bark pushes its way like a strong steamship
-through the chaos of rocks and reaches the whirlpool which is found
-beneath almost all rapids. All the men stand with oars outstretched
-and ropes in readiness, awaiting the inevitable moment when the boat
-will be gripped by the whirlpool and drawn into its vortex. At the
-skipper’s bidding the oars on one side dip into the water, on the
-other side long poles are thrust out to keep the boat off the rocks,
-while the sail, skilfully handled by the most experienced sailors, is
-taken in or let out, turned and twisted, as the circumstances demand.
-Once, twice, six times, ten times, they try in vain to cut through the
-whirlpool; at last they succeed and the boat reaches the lower end of
-the water-rush. But here it stops as if spell-bound; the pressure of
-the current equals that on the sails. The wind rises, and the vessel
-moves on a few yards; the pressure on the sail slackens again, and the
-waves drive it back to its former place. The contest with the whirling
-waves recommences, and again the boat is worsted. At last it reaches
-the desired goal, and must hold to it. One of the crew grips a rope in
-his teeth, plunges into the midst of the wild surge, and dragging the
-heavy rope behind him seeks to gain a rock which rises above the raging
-waves some little distance ahead. The waves hurl him back, cover and
-overwhelm him, but he continues his efforts, until it becomes plain
-that he must yield to the superior force of the stream. He gives up the
-struggle and is pulled by the rope back to the boat. Again the whirling
-waves, so strong to destroy, play with the frail structure which
-ventures to oppose them; and at last the wind gives the victory to the
-boat. But suddenly a portentous crash is heard; the steersman loses his
-footing and is projected into the stream; the boat has struck on one
-of the hidden rocks. With the utmost speed one of the crew gets hold
-of the rudder, a second throws a rope and a bladder to the struggling
-steersman, and without a moment’s delay the rest jump into the hold,
-and with hammer, chisel, and tow seek to repair the leak which they
-are sure to find. The man at the rudder endeavours to save the vessel
-from further mischance; the drenched steersman clambers up with an “_El
-hamdi lillahi!_” or “Thank God!” more grumbling than grateful; the rest
-hammer and plug the gaping leak, one even surrendering his shirt to eke
-out the scanty tow. Once more the boat sails through whirl and wave,
-rocking, creaking, groaning like a storm-tossed ship; once more it
-reaches the rapids; once more it is arrested between wind and current.
-Two sailors spring overboard at once, and, fighting against the stream
-with all their strength, at last succeed in gaining the rock. They
-surround it with one end of the rope and signal to the others to pull
-the boat up. This done, the vessel is moored to the rock, and there it
-hangs in the midst of the wild rush of waters, rocking so violently
-and continuously that it causes nausea. A second boat draws near and
-asks for assistance. A rope is floated down on a bladder, and thus
-time and trouble are saved. Soon the second also reaches the rock, a
-third follows, and a fourth, and all dance up and down together in
-the tumult. And now the united strength of the crews is sufficient to
-effect a successful passage. One of the boats is manned with double the
-normal crew; the other boatmen swim, and wade, and climb, dragging the
-rope to another rock further ahead, and, with all the help that the
-sail can give, one boat after another is pulled through the rushing
-waters of the rapid. Now and then at certain places the sail alone is
-sufficient to carry the boat up, but in such cases a lull of the wind
-not unfrequently endangers both craft and crew. Often, too, boats are
-forced to linger in the midst of the tumult for hours or even days,
-waiting for a favourable wind. Then one may see a tiny bark hanging
-behind every jagged rock, all alike unable to help their neighbours.
-
-Several times I have been forced to make my bed on one of the black
-rocks amid-stream, for the violent rocking of the boat in the rapids
-made sleep an impossibility. A stranger sleeping-place can scarcely
-be imagined. The ground on which one lies seems to tremble before
-the assaults of the flood; the roaring and bellowing, hissing and
-splashing, rumbling and thundering of the waves drowns every other
-sound; one sits or lies on a rug with his comrades without uttering a
-word. Every blast of wind drives the spray like a fleeting mist across
-the rock island. The glowing camp-fire throws a weird light on the
-rock, and on the dark water foaming around its ragged edges; the falls
-and whirlpools in the shade seem even more gruesome than they are. At
-times one cannot help fancying that they open a hundred jaws to engulf
-the poor child of man. But his confidence is firm as the rock on which
-he rests. The mighty stream may thunder as it will, the seething waves
-may rage and foam, he is safe on a rock which has defied the flood for
-ages. But what if the rope break, and the boat be hurled and shattered
-on the nearest rocks? Then another will come to take the shipwrecked
-crew ashore! In spite of these and similar thoughts, and in spite of
-the ceaseless roar, the traveller can sleep, and sleep tranquilly
-too. For danger lends courage, and courage brings confidence, and the
-thunder of the waves becomes at length a lullaby to the wearied ear.
-And on the ensuing morning what an awakening! In the east the sky is
-suffused with red, the ancient giant-rocks wear a purple cloak on
-their shoulders, and shine in gleaming light, as if they were clad
-in burnished steel. Sunshine and shadow flit over the dark reefs and
-through the gullies filled with golden-yellow sand, and over all is
-thrown the marvellous, indescribably beautiful, colour-garment of the
-desert. Thousands and thousands of water-pearls shine and sparkle,
-and the mighty river rolls out its mighty melody, which is ever the
-same and yet eternally new. Such a glory, such a harmony, fills the
-heart with contentment and rapture. The morning is spent in devotional
-contemplation of this glorious spectacle, for it is not till forenoon
-that the wind begins to blow from the north and fill the sails. Work
-and danger, toil and struggle, hazard and anxiety, begin anew; and thus
-one day follows another, and rapid after rapid is at length overcome.
-
-The voyage up-stream is dangerous and tedious; the voyage down-stream
-has no parallel in perilousness, such a mad rush is it through flood
-and rapid, whirlpool and eddy, cataract and gorge,--an exciting game in
-which life is the stake.
-
-Voyages down-stream through the region of the rapids are only
-undertaken by the special boats which are made for the purpose in the
-Soudan. About ten per cent are smashed on the voyage, and that the
-percentage of deaths is not equally high is simply due to the matchless
-swimming powers of the Nubian boatmen. Even when they are dashed by the
-waves against a rock they do not always drown; usually they are like
-ducks in the water, and reach the shore in safety.
-
-Let me try to give a faithful picture of one of these down-stream
-voyages.
-
-Six new boats, built of the much-prized heavy mimosa-wood which sinks
-in water, are moored to the shore at the southern limit of the third
-group of rapids. The men who compose their crews are lying on sandy
-places between the black rocks, where they have spent the night. It is
-still early morning and the camp is quiet; only the river roars and
-murmurs in the solitude. As day dawns the sleepers awake; one after
-another descends to the stream, and performs the ablutions ordained to
-accompany morning prayer. After the prescribed prayer has been uttered
-from “preface” to “conclusion”, they refresh themselves with a frugal
-breakfast. Then old and young betake themselves to the tomb of a sheikh
-or saint, whose white dome gleams among the light-green mimosas, there
-to offer a special petition for a fortunate voyage. In this they are
-led by the eldest _Reis_, or steersman, who represents the Imam.
-Returning to the river, they observe an ancient heathen custom of
-throwing some dates, as an offering, into the waves.
-
-At length each skipper orders his men to their posts. “Let go the sail!
-Row, men, row--row in the name of God, the All-Merciful,” he shouts.
-Thereupon he strikes up a song, with an ever-recurring refrain; one of
-the rowers takes it up and sings verse after verse; and all the rest
-accompany him with the rhythmically repeated words: “Help us, help us,
-O Mohammed, help us, God’s messenger and prophet!”
-
-Slowly the bark gains the middle of the stream; quicker and ever
-quicker it glides onwards; in a few minutes it is rushing, more swiftly
-than ever, among the rocky islands above the rapid. “O Said, give us
-good cheer,” says the Reis, while the sailors go on singing as before.
-More and more quickly the oars dip into the turbid flood; the men,
-who were freshly anointed yesterday, are naked to the loins, and the
-sweat pours down their bodies as they strain every muscle. Praise and
-blame, flattery and reproaches, promises and threats, blessings and
-curses, fall from the skipper’s mouth according as the boat fulfils
-or disappoints his wishes. The strokes of the oars, pulled at full
-strength, follow each other more quickly still, though their purpose is
-solely to direct the otherwise exceedingly rapid course of the boat,
-and, as they often increase the danger they seek to avoid, the Reis may
-be excused if he exhausts all the hortatory vocabulary at his command
-in his desire to stimulate his crew. “Bend to your oars; work, work,
-my sons: show your strength, ye children and grandchildren of heroes;
-display your prowess, ye brave; exert your strength, ye giants; do
-honour to the prophet, all ye faithful! Oh, for the _merieza_! Oh,
-for the scented damsels of Dongola! Oh, for the delights of Cairo;
-all shall be yours. Larboard, I say, ye dogs, ye children of dogs,
-ye grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, and litter of dogs, ye
-Christians, ye heathen, ye Jews, ye Kaffres, ye fire-worshippers. Ah!
-ye rascals, ye swindlers, ye thieves, ye villains, ye vagabonds, do
-you call this rowing? First oar, starboard! are there women hanging
-about you? Third oar, larboard! throw overboard the weaklings who are
-misleading you. That’s right, well done; bravo, ye strong, supple,
-clever youths; God bless you, brave fellows, and give your fathers joy
-and your children His blessing. Better, better, better yet, ye cowards,
-ye strengthless, ye sapless, ye miserable, ye pitiable--Allah damn you
-all in His righteous wrath, ye--ye--Help us, help us, O Mohammed.” Such
-is the torrent which rushes uninterruptedly from the skipper’s lips,
-and all his commands and cries, entreaties and execrations, are uttered
-with the utmost seriousness, and enforced with appropriate gestures of
-hand, and foot, and head.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 57.--A Passage through the Nile Rapids.]
-
-The boat sweeps into the first part of the rapid. The rocks on both
-sides seem to whirl round; the surge floods the deck, and its thunder
-drowns every order. Unresisting the frail craft is borne towards a
-neck of rock--fear, anxiety, dismay may be read on every face, but
-there--the dreaded spot is already behind the stern, the foaming
-backwash has saved the imperilled boat, only a couple of oars have
-been shivered like thin glass. Their loss hinders the right management
-of the bark, and it sweeps on without answering to the rudder, on to
-a formidable waterfall. A general cry, expressing horror and despair;
-a sign from the Reis standing in the bow with trembling knees, and
-all throw themselves flat on the deck, and hold on like grim death; a
-deafening crash and an overwhelming rush of hissing, gurgling waves;
-for the space of a moment nothing but water, and then the boat gives
-a leap upward; they have passed the cataract and escaped the jaws
-of death. “El hamdi lillahi!” (God be thanked) rings out from every
-breast; some hurry to the hold to find the leak and plug it, others lay
-out new oars, and on they go.
-
-Behind the first boat comes a second, hurrying through the dangerous
-rapid. The oarsmen are labouring with extraordinary, ever-accelerating
-velocity; then, suddenly, all are thrown prostrate, all but one, who
-describes a high curve through the air into the river. He seems lost,
-buried in the raging depth; but no, while his comrades wring their
-hands in dismay, the matchless swimmer appears on the surface in the
-middle of the foaming whirlpool beneath the rapid. As a third boat
-shoots past the second, which has stuck on a rock, and reaches the
-whirlpool, the swimmer catches one of the oars, swings himself cleverly
-on board, and is saved. A fourth boat also hurries past; the beseeching
-gestures from the crew of the second boat implore for help; but a hand
-raised to heaven is the only answer. In truth, no human help could be
-given, for no craft is here under man’s control; the stream itself must
-help, if it will not destroy,--and it does help. The boat oscillates
-violently on the rock; its prow and stern dip deep in the water; but
-suddenly there is a whirl, and once more it is borne on through the
-surging current. Some of the crew row, others bale out the water, as
-do two women journeying with them, others hammer, and plug, and caulk
-in the attempt to repair the damage done. Half-full of water, scarce
-keeping afloat at all, the boat reaches the shore and is emptied of her
-cargo. But half of this, consisting of gum-arabic, is spoilt, and the
-owner, a poor merchant, tears his beard, moaning, lamenting, weeping,
-and cursing the two women passengers. The two women are to blame for
-all. How could they, who brought ruin to the first man in paradise,
-bring any blessing to faithful Mussulmans? Woe, woe upon the women and
-all their kind!
-
-Next day the bark is repaired, new caulked, and reloaded; it speeds on
-with the rest to the next rapids, passes through these without further
-mischance, and reaches the fertile valley of middle Nubia, which is
-free from rocks and gives a hospitable welcome to every voyager. The
-cares, lately so grievous, are as soon forgotten; like children, the
-brown men laugh and joke, and drink with content great draughts of palm
-wine and _merieza_. Much too quickly for their taste does the stream
-bear the boat through this happy land.
-
-Again the desert spreads its golden-yellow sand over the rocky banks;
-again rocky islands narrow, divide, and impede the river; the barks are
-entering the second group of rapids. One after another the dangerous
-currents, the dreaded whirlpools, the perilous straits and corners, are
-safely passed and left behind; only the last and wildest of the rapids
-lie between the boats and the palmy Wady Halfa. And below that village
-all is smooth sailing except at one place below Philæ, where the river
-is once more broken up by rocks. Above these last rapids--Gaskol,
-Moedyana, Abu-sir, and Hambol--which are truly dreadful, the boats seek
-for a quiet bay; and here all encamp to gain strength for the work and
-warfare, cares and trials of the coming day. The northerners also enjoy
-the prospect of a quiet night’s rest.
-
-Night draws its veil over the desert land. The rushing waves thunder
-in the rocky valley; the stars are reflected in the peaceful creek;
-the blossoming mimosas make the shore fragrant. An old gray-haired
-Reis, born and bred among the rapids, approaches the strangers from the
-north. A snow-white beard ennobles his impressive features; his flowing
-cloak suggests a priest’s robe. “Sons of strangers,” he says, “men from
-the land of the Franks, difficult things have ye overcome along with
-us, but there is harder still before you. I am a child of this land,
-seventy years has the sun shone upon me, and at last he has whitened my
-hair: I am an old man, and ye might be my children. Therefore take ye
-heed to my warning, and draw back from what ye propose--to accompany
-us on the morrow. Witless ye go to the danger, but I know it. Had ye
-seen, as I have seen, those rocks which bar the way of the waves; did
-ye know, as I know, how these waves storm and rage for entrance and
-passage, how they overwhelm the rocks, and hurl themselves roaring into
-the depths below, ye would see that only the grace of God, whom we
-praise and glorify, can guide our poor boat aright, ye would yield to
-me. Would not the heart of your mother break should the All-merciful
-refuse us His compassion? Ye will not stay? Then may the grace of the
-Father of mercies be with us all.”
-
-Before sunrise the shore becomes a scene of activity. Devoutly as
-before the boatmen offer the prayer of the dawn. Serious, experienced
-steersmen, who know the river well, and young, strong-limbed,
-adventurous oarsmen, offer their services to the ancient. Carefully he
-chooses the most skilful steersmen and the strongest oarsmen; he sets
-three men to the rudder; and then he gives orders to start. “Men and
-sons of the land, children of the river, pray the Fatiha,” he orders.
-And all repeat the words of the first Sura of the Koran. “Praise and
-honour to the Lord of the world, the All-merciful, He who ruleth at
-the day of judgment. Thee would we serve, to Thee would we pray, that
-Thou wouldest guide us in the way that is right, in the way of those
-who enjoy Thy favour, and not in the way of those with whom Thou art
-displeased.” “Amen, my children, in the name of the All-merciful! Let
-go the sail, and bend to the oars.” With rhythmic stroke these dip into
-the water.
-
-Slowly the pent-up stream bears the boat towards the first rapid.
-Again, as it nears the rocks, the boat refuses to obey either rudder
-or oars, but creaking and groaning in every joint, it rushes through
-the overwhelming waves and boiling foam, through eddy and whirlpool,
-through narrow channels and abruptly-winding courses, drenched and
-flooded with water, shaving rocky corners by an arm’s-length, almost
-touching the teeth of hidden reefs. On it rushes to the second rapid.
-
-From the height of the cataract the eye looks down with dismay at the
-dreadful violence of the torrent, and one sees at the lower end of
-the rapid a round block of rock surrounded by foaming waves as if it
-were the head of a white-haired giant rising above the surface. Like
-an arrow to its mark our fragile ungovernable boat rushes towards this
-giant’s head. “In the name of the All-merciful, row, row, ye men,
-ye strong, brave, noble men, ye children of the stream!” cries the
-steersman. “Larboard, larboard the rudder with all your strength!”
-But the boat answers neither to oars nor to rudder. It is not indeed
-the giant block which endangers the craft, but a narrow channel to
-the starboard into which we are swept and in which we are hurried on
-towards a labyrinth of rocks through which no possible pathway can
-be seen. The men already leave their oars, and throw off any clothes
-they have on, so that they may be unhampered in swimming. A fearful
-crash turns all eyes backward: the giant’s head has caught the next
-boat, which was longer and less pliant, and holds it oscillating over
-the seething flood. This increases the dismay. All our men regard the
-crew of the second boat as doomed, and as for themselves they prepare
-to plunge into the torrent. Then the voice of the ancient pilot rings
-out sharp and clear: “Are ye mad, are ye God-forsaken, ye children
-of heathen? Work, work, ye boys, ye men, ye heroes, ye giants, ye
-faithful! In the hand of the Almighty rests all power and strength;
-give Him the glory, and bend to your oars, ye sons of heroes!” And he
-himself takes the rudder, and in a few minutes directs the misguided
-boat from the “way of sinners” into the “right way”. One boat after
-another appears in the open water: but not all. The giant’s head
-still bears his victim, and will most likely bear it until next
-year’s flood. The ill-fated boat with the women on board was shivered
-to pieces at the uppermost of this group of rapids. With the crews,
-happily saved, the skipper prays, as he did before departure, “Glory
-and honour to the Lord of the World.”
-
-Before the village of Wady Halfa, overshadowed with palms, the boats
-are moored; the men have gone ashore, and lie in picturesque groups
-around the camp-fire. Big-bellied flagons, filled with _merieza_,
-invite the thirsty; in other vessels the flesh of new-killed sheep is
-boiling under the care of women and girls who have quickly gathered
-round. Reeking of castor-oil, they are by no means welcome visitors to
-Europeans. The notes of the zither and the beating of the drum announce
-the beginning of the “fantasia”, the feast and the revel. Unutterable
-comfort takes possession of the boatman’s heart, joyous contentment is
-expressed in every look and gesture. At length, however, the inevitable
-fatigue after the heavy anxious work of the day asserts itself. The
-tarabuka sinks from the wearied arm, the tambura falls from sleepy
-fingers, and all the voices, which but a few moments ago were so loud,
-become silent.
-
-Then the voices of the night are heard. The thunder of the rapids
-resounds down the valley, there is whispering among the crowns of the
-palm-trees with which the night-wind plays, and on the flat shore the
-waves splash in rhythmic cadence. The thundering waves and the rippling
-water, the rushing wind and the whispering palms unite their music in
-an exquisite lullaby, which leads all the sleepers to the happy land of
-golden dreams.
-
-
-
-
-A JOURNEY IN SIBERIA.
-
-
-We had left the populous streets of St. Petersburg and the gilded
-domes of Moscow far behind us; and before us rose the towers of
-Nijni-Novgorod on the further bank of the Oka. We had reason to be
-grateful for the manner of our reception in the two capitals of the
-Russian Empire. We had respectfully taken leave of his Majesty our own
-noble Emperor in Berlin, had received cordial recommendations from the
-German Foreign Office, and had met with a friendly welcome from the
-German Embassy in St. Petersburg, so we had hoped for a favourable
-reception in Russia, but the hospitality accorded us far exceeded our
-boldest expectations. His Majesty the Czar was pleased to give us an
-audience; princes and princesses of the imperial house deigned to
-receive us; the chancellor, the ministers, and high officers of state,
-had all met us with that thoughtful courtesy and obliging complaisance
-for which educated Russians are noted; and we were furnished with the
-introductions whose importance we afterwards realized.
-
-As far as Nijni-Novgorod we had enjoyed the modern conveniences of
-travel; thenceforward we were to learn how Russians traverse distances
-of thousands of kilometres or versts, how they travel in summer and in
-winter, by day and by night, in furious storm and in smiling sunshine,
-in splashing rain, icy snow, and dusty drought, in sledges and in
-wagons. Before us stood a huge and massive travelling sledge, clamped
-at all its joints, with broadly projecting stays to guard against
-overturning, with a hood to shelter the travellers from rain and snow,
-and drawn by three horses on whose yoke a little bell tinkled.
-
-On the 19th of March we began a rapid journey over the frozen surface
-of the Volga, but it was not without its hindrances. For a thaw had
-accompanied us from Germany to Russia, and had warned us to hasten from
-St. Petersburg and Moscow, and a thaw remained our constant companion,
-as if we were heralds of the spring. Holes in the ice filled with
-water, warning us of the yawning depth beneath, drenched the horses,
-the sledge, and ourselves, or forced us to make tiresome circuits; the
-cracking and groaning of the ice made the danger seem worse than it
-really was, and both drivers and postmasters became so anxious, that
-after a short journey we were forced to exchange the smooth surface of
-ice for the as yet unbeaten summer highway. But this highway, traversed
-by thousands and thousands of freight wagons and by an equal number of
-exiles to dread Siberia, soon became to us, as to the prisoners, a way
-of sighs. Loose or slushy snow about three feet deep, covered the road;
-to right and left rushed little streams, wherever, in fact, they could
-find a course; the horses, now yoked in a line, one behind the other,
-strove, in a pitiable way, to keep their footing; with leaps and bounds
-they would try to keep the tracks of those who had gone in front, and
-at every false step they would sink up to the breast in the snow or in
-the icy water. Behind them floundered the sledge, creaking in every
-joint, as it plunged with a jerk from height to hollow; for hours
-sometimes it remained stuck in a hole, baffling the most strenuous
-exertions of the horses. On such occasions the wolf-scaring bell,
-the gift of the mysterious Faldine, seemed to sound most eerily. In
-vain the driver threatened, entreated, swore, groaned, yelled, cried,
-roared, cursed, and whipped; in most cases we did not get under weigh
-again until other travellers came to our assistance.
-
-Painfully the journey lengthened to four and five times the proper
-time for the distance. To look out of the sledge to right or left
-was scarce worth the trouble, for the flat country was dreary and
-featureless; only in the villages was there anything visible and
-interesting, and that only to those who knew how to look. For the
-winter still kept the people in their small, neatly built, but often
-sadly dilapidated log-huts; only fur-clad boys ran barefoot through the
-slushy snow and filthy mud which older boys and girls sought to avoid
-by help of stilts; only some old, white-bearded beggars loafed round
-the post-houses and taverns, beggars, however, whom every artist must
-have found as charming as I did. When they asked for alms, and stood
-in the majesty of old age, with uncovered bald heads and flowing hoary
-beards, disclosing the filthiness of their body and the raggedness of
-their clothes, they seemed to me such marvellous pictures and types of
-world-renouncing saints, that I could not keep myself from giving to
-them again and again, if only to get in thanks the sign of the cross,
-repeated from three to nine times in a manner so expressive and devout
-that only a real saint could equal it.
-
-In the villages we also saw more of the animal life than we did in
-the fields or even in the forests which we traversed. For in the open
-country winter still kept its fetters on life and all was quiet and
-death-like; we saw hardly any birds except the hooded crow and the
-yellow bunting; and the snow showed scarce any tracks of mammals. In
-the villages, however, we were welcomed at least by the delightful
-jackdaws, which adorned the roofs of the log-houses, by the ravens,
-which with us at home are the shy frequenters of mountain and forest,
-but are here the most confident companions of the villagers, by magpies
-and other birds, not to speak of domestic animals, among which the
-numerous pigs were especially obtrusive.
-
-After an uninterrupted journey of four days, without refreshing
-sleep, without any real rest, without sufficient food, we felt as if
-we had been beaten in every limb, and were, indeed, glad to reach
-Kazan--the old capital of the Tartars. We crossed the Volga on foot,
-picking our steps over the much-broken ice, and drew near to the city
-of sixty towers, which we had seen the day before shining in the
-distance. I fancied myself once more in the East. From the minarets
-and the spire-like wooden towers I heard again the notes which call
-every faithful follower of Islam to prayer; dark-eyed women bustled
-about among the turbaned men, veiling themselves anxiously from their
-country folk, but unveiling inquisitively before us, and picking their
-steps, on account of their dainty but not waterproof saffron shoes,
-along the steps of the houses protected by the overhanging eaves. In
-the uproar of the bazaar young and old thronged and bustled without
-restraint. Everything was just as it is in the East. Only the numerous
-stately churches--among which we saw the convent of “the black Madonna
-of Kasan not made by human hands”, conspicuous both in site and
-architecture--were out of keeping with the Eastern picture, though they
-showed plainly enough that Christians and Mohammedans were here living
-in mutual tolerance.
-
-On lighter sledges, but over even more unsubstantial highways, we
-journeyed onwards towards Perm and the Ural. The road led through
-Tartar and Russian villages and the fields around them, and again
-through extensive forests. The Tartar villages usually compared
-favourably with those of the Russians, not only in the absence of
-swine, which the Tartars hold unclean, but even more in the always
-well-cared-for cemeteries, usually surrounded by lofty trees. For the
-Tartar respects the resting-place of his dead, the Russian at most
-those of his saints. The woodlands, though divided up, are really
-primeval forests, which rise and flourish, grow old and disappear,
-without human interference, for they are too far from navigable rivers
-to be as yet of much commercial value.
-
-Two large rivers, however, the Viatka and the Kama, cross our route.
-The winter holds them bound, though the approach of spring is beginning
-to loosen their fetters. The banks are flooded, and the horses of the
-carriers, who scorn the temporary bridges, are now and then forced to
-swim and to drag the sledge like a boat behind them.
-
-Before we reached Perm we had to exchange the sledge for the wagon,
-and in this we trundled along towards the Ural, which separates Europe
-from Asia. The highway leads over long ranges of hills, with easy
-slopes, but gradually ascending. The landscape changes; the mountain
-scenery presents many pictures, which are beautiful if they are not
-grand. Small woods, with fields and meadows between, remind us of the
-spurs of the Styrian Alps. Most of the woods are thin and scraggy, like
-those of Brandenburg, others are more luxuriant and varied, and cover
-wide areas without interruption. Here they consist of low pines and
-birches, and there of the same trees mingled with limes, aspens, black
-and silver poplars, above whose rounded crowns the cypress-like tops
-of the beautiful pichta or Siberian silver-fir tapers upwards. On an
-average the villages are larger and the houses more spacious than in
-the districts previously traversed, but the roads are bad beyond all
-description. Thousands of freight wagons creep wearily along, or rather
-in, the deep miry ruts: slowly and painfully we also jog along until,
-after three days’ journeying, we reach the watershed between the two
-great basins of the Volga and the Ob, and learn from the milestone,
-which bears “Europe” on the west side and “Asia” on the east, that we
-have reached the boundary. Amid the clinking of glasses we think of our
-loved ones at home.
-
-The pleasant town of Yekaterinburg, with its gold-smelting and
-gem-cutting industries, could not long detain us in spite of the
-hospitality of its inhabitants. For the spring was gaining strength,
-and the bridges of ice on the rivers and streams, which we had to cross
-on our way to distant Omsk, were melting and crumbling. So we pushed
-hastily onwards through the Asiatic region of the Perm government till
-we reached its boundary and entered Western Siberia.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 58.--A Post Station in Siberia.]
-
-Here, at the first post-house, we were met by the district officer
-of Tiumen, who greeted us in the name of the governor, and offered
-us escort through his district. In the chief town of the district
-we found the house of one of the rich inhabitants prepared for our
-reception. Thenceforth we were to learn what Russian hospitality meant.
-Hitherto, indeed, we had been everywhere received and treated most
-hospitably, but now the chief officials of the district or province
-exerted themselves unsparingly on our behalf, and the best houses were
-thrown open to us. In fact, we were treated like princes, simply
-on account of our scientific mission. Words fail me to express our
-gratitude with adequate warmth. Beyond Tiumen, in which we stayed
-three days, inspecting the prisons of the exiles, the tanneries, and
-other sights of this first Siberian town, the peasants showed us their
-mastery even of the rivers. For the approaching spring had melted the
-ice on the Pyshma and the blocks had begun to move; we, however, had
-to get across before this happened. At the village of Romanoffskoye
-the inhabitants with bared heads stood waiting for us on the bank of
-the Pyshma, and even the river had to wait before it was permitted to
-shake off its icy bonds. Boldly and cleverly the peasants had thrown a
-makeshift bridge across the half-melted stream, using a large boat as a
-centre pier, above and around which they had fettered the treacherous
-ice with strong hawsers and ropes. Willing hands unyoked the team of
-five required for our day’s journey, seized spokes and axles, and bore
-one wagon after another across the yielding bridge, which groaned and
-creaked under its burden. The task was safely accomplished, and on we
-went merrily through water and snow, mud and mire, over log-roads and
-ice.
-
-The Tobol, which we wished to cross on Good Friday, the 14th April,
-the first day of true spring, was less accommodating. Here also all
-requisite arrangements had been made to secure our passage: one of the
-wagons was unyoked and rolled on to the ice, but this suddenly cracked
-and split, and forced a hasty retreat. The bells on the cross-trees had
-tinkled merrily when we left Yalutoroffsk; they sounded sadly as we
-drove back again, and it was not till Easter-day that we were able to
-cross the great river with the help of a ferry-boat.
-
-So we continued on our way. Before and behind us the rivers threw off
-the yoke of winter; only the dreaded Irtish lay still hard-bound and
-secure under our feet, and thus, after more than a month’s journey
-without further adventure, we reached Omsk, the capital of Western
-Siberia.
-
-After we had seen what was to be seen in Omsk,--the streets and the
-houses, the military academy, the museum, the hospital, the military
-prison, and so on, we continued our journey toward Semipalatinsk,
-along the highway which runs along the right bank of the Irtish,
-connecting the villages of the so-called Cossack line. Already,
-in passing from Yalutoroffsk to Omsk, we had journeyed through a
-steppe--that of Ishim; now the steppe surrounded us on all sides, and
-almost every night the heavens were red with the flames of last year’s
-grass and herbage, which was now being burnt. Troops of migrating birds
-followed the river directly behind the ice as it drifted northwards;
-crowds of aquatic birds peopled all the steppe streams and lakes;
-various species of lark flew hither and thither in flocks; the dainty
-falcons of the steppe had already betaken themselves to their summer
-quarters; the spring had indeed come.
-
-In Semipalatinsk we had the good fortune to find in the governor,
-General von Poltoratski, a warm friend, ready to aid us in all our
-endeavours, and in his lady the most amiable of hostesses. Not content
-with having secured our hospitable reception, the general most kindly
-proposed to make us acquainted with the Kirghiz, who form a great part
-of the population of his district, and to this end organized a great
-hunting expedition after archars, the wild sheep of Siberia, which are
-almost twice the size of our domestic animals.[80]
-
-On the 3rd of May we started on the chase, crossing the Irtish and
-following the post-road to Taschkent, in the Kirghiz steppe. After a
-journey of sixteen hours we reached the region of the chase--a rocky
-part of the steppe, and soon we were standing before the _aul_ or
-_yurt_-camp which had been prepared for us. There we were welcomed
-by the general’s wife, who had gone on ahead of us the day before,
-and cordially also by about a score of Kirghiz sultans and district
-governors, and their numerous followers.
-
-During the next three days there was great sport on the Arkat
-mountains. It was holiday with the Kirghiz, who are always eager for
-fun, and it was not less so for us. Hill and valley resounded with the
-hoofs of fourscore or more horsemen, who took part in the two-days’
-hunt; the sun, when he was pleased to show himself, shone down on
-strange, gay garments which had been hitherto hidden under furs;
-there was a merry bustle over hill and dale. The Kirghiz, once so
-much dreaded, whose very name means robber, are now the most faithful
-and contented Russian subjects, and there they were with their
-best horses--their most precious pacers, their tamed golden-eagles,
-greyhounds, and camels, their zither-musicians and impromptu poets,
-their wrestlers and other gymnasts--a merry crew. They sat together
-in groups and companies; they darted hither and thither, singly or
-in troops, wheeling their horses in sheer high spirits; with the
-keenest interest they watched the wrestling bouts or the boys racing
-on horseback; they led the chase with astuteness and good judgment,
-and listened with delight to the words of the extempore singer who
-celebrated its fortunes. One of the Kirghiz had already killed an
-archar before our arrival; good luck brought a second victim to my
-rifle. It was this good fortune which inspired the poet. His verses
-were not particularly full of ideas, but they were none the less so
-characteristic that I recorded them as a first sample of Kirghiz
-poetry. While the poet sang, an interpreter translated his words into
-Russian, and the General rendered them in German, while I took them
-down in shorthand:--
-
- “Speak, red tongue, speak while thou hast life, for after death thou
- shalt be dumb.
-
- Speak, red tongue, which God hath given me, for after death thou shalt
- be silent.
-
- Words such as thou now utterest will no longer flow from thee after
- death.
-
- I see before me people rising like the mountains, to them I will
- declare the truth.
-
- I seem to see the rocks and mountains, to the reindeer I would liken
- them.
-
- Greater are they than boats, like a steamship on the waves of Irtish.
-
- But I see in thee, oh Ruler, after the majesty of the Emperor, the
- highest, to be compared to a mountain, precious as an ambling reindeer.
-
- It was my mother who bore me, but my tongue hath God given.
-
- If I should not now speak before thee, to whom should I ever speak?
-
- Full freedom have I to speak, let me speak as if to my own folk.
-
- Prosperity to thee, sir, all hail and blessing to thy guests, among
- them noble men, though they have thus unbent among us.
-
- Each guest of the General is also ours, and assured of our friendship.
-
- God alone gave me my tongue, let me speak further.
-
- On the mountains we saw huntsmen, marksmen, and drivers, but with one
- only was there good fortune.
-
- As the top of the highest mountain towers above all others, so did
- he excel all, for he sent two well-aimed balls into the body of the
- archar and brought it to the yurt.
-
- Every huntsman wished to bring in booty, but only one had his wish
- fulfilled: to us was joy, and to thee, noble lady, whom I now address.
-
-
- All the people are delighted, not the men only, to see thee, to greet
- thee; all of us wish thee joy, and a thousand years of life and health.
-
- And of thy good pleasure receive our homage. Thou mayest well have
- seen a better people, but no truer has ever offered greeting and
- welcome.
-
- May God bless thee, thee and thy house and thy children. I cannot find
- words enough to praise thee, but God has given me my tongue, and it
- has spoken, the red tongue, what sprang from the heart.”
-
-We left the Arkat mountains, and soon thereafter the district governed
-by our kind host, whom we left at the hunting-ground; and very shortly
-afterwards we were welcomed in Sergiopol, the first town in Turkestan,
-by Colonel Friedrichs, who greeted us in the name of the governor of
-this great province, and gave us escort on our way. Kirghiz chiefs
-became our guard of honour, and supplied us with draught-horses which
-could never before have done duty as such, so madly did they at
-first try to run off with the heavy wagon. Kirghiz sultans showed us
-hospitality, looked after our food and shelter, and erected yurts at
-every place where we wished to rest, or were expected to do so. Kirghiz
-also caught snakes and other creeping things for our collections, threw
-their nets on our behalf into the steppe-lakes, and followed us like
-faithful dogs on our hunting expeditions. Thus we journeyed through the
-steppe-land, now gorgeous in the full beauty of spring, delaying for
-a time to hunt and collect at Alakul (“the shining lake”), crossing
-valleys full of blossom and smiling hills, to Lepsa, the Cossack
-settlement on the Alatau, one of the grandest of the steppe mountains.
-We traversed the settled region, a little paradise, flowing with milk
-and honey; ascended the high mountains, rejoicing in the rushing
-torrents, the green Alpine lakes, and the lovely vistas, and finally
-directed our course to the north-east towards the Chinese frontier, for
-the shortest and most convenient route to the Altai led us through a
-portion of the Celestial Empire.
-
-In Bakti, the last Russian outpost, news was brought to us that
-His Ineffability the Jandsun Dyun, the Governor of the province
-Tarabagatai, sent to greet us in the name of China, and invited us to a
-banquet. To meet the hospitable wishes of the noble mandarin, we rode
-on the 21st May to Tchukutchak or Tchautchak, the capital of the said
-province.
-
-The company which rode through the summer glory of the steppe was
-larger and more splendid than ever. Partly in order to have a quite
-necessary security in a country disquieted by insurrection, partly
-in order to appear with dignity, not to say with pomp, before
-his Highness, we had added to our ranks. For, besides the thirty
-Cossacks from Sachan, under the leadership of our new escort, Major
-Tichanoff, and besides our old Kirghiz friends, we had with us a half
-sotnia of Cossacks from Bakti. The beating hoofs of our small army
-sounded strangely in the otherwise desolate steppe. All our Kirghiz
-were arrayed in holiday dress, and their black, blue, yellow, and
-red kaftans, covered with gold and silver braid, vied in sheen and
-splendour with the uniforms of the Russian officers. At the boundary,
-which had recently been agreed upon, a Chinese warrior of high rank
-waited to greet us. Thereupon he wheeled round and galloped off as fast
-as his horse would bear him to inform his commander of our approach.
-Stumbling over rubbish heaps, between half-ruined and half-built
-houses, but also between blossoming gardens, our horses bore us towards
-the town. There apish Mongolian faces grinned at us, and appallingly
-ugly women outraged my sense of beauty. Our cavalcade drew up in
-front of the Governor’s house, and we craved admission at the broad
-portal. Opposite it rose a wall of beautiful workmanship, with some
-strange animal figure in the centre; while to right and left on the
-ground lay some Chinese instruments of torture. An official of the
-house bade us enter, but indicated at the same time that the Cossacks
-and Kirghiz were to remain outside. The governor received us with the
-greatest solemnity in what seemed at once his sitting-room, office,
-and court of justice. Preserving all the dignity of a high mandarin,
-sparse of speech, in fact, uttering but a few disjointed words, always
-accompanied, however, with a cheerful, grinning smile, he gave us his
-hand, and bade us sit down at the breakfast-table. This gave promise
-of tea, and bore innumerable small dishes with strange delicacies, and
-“we raised our hands to the daintily prepared meal”. The food consisted
-of rice, various fruits dried and preserved in oil, slices of ham as
-thin as parchment, dried shrimp-tails, and a multitude of unknown, or,
-at any rate, unrecognizable tit-bits and sweets; the drinks consisted
-of excellent tea and sickeningly sweet rice-brandy of the strength
-of spirits of wine. After the meal, which I, at least, managed to
-get through with impunity, having fortified myself beforehand with a
-substantial snack of a less doubtful kind, the hookahs were produced,
-and we were shown various intelligible and unintelligible objects
-of interest in that room and the one adjoining. Among these were
-landscapes and pictures of animals, commendatory letters from the
-government, the great seal of state wrapped up with comical carefulness
-in brightly coloured silk, extraordinary arrows of an import which only
-a Chinese mind can fathom, samples of European industry, and so forth.
-The conversation was extremely limited, and unspeakably dignified. Our
-addresses had to be translated from French to Russian, from Russian to
-Kirghiz, and from Kirghiz into Chinese; and the answers had to pass
-through the reverse process. Little wonder, then, that the speeches
-acquired a tone of great solemnity! After breakfast some Chinese
-archers came in to display their warlike valour and skill; thereafter
-the Jandsun himself in all his glory led us to his kitchen-garden
-to let us taste its produce. At length he bade us farewell, and we
-rode again through the streets and markets of the town, and found
-hospitality in the house of a Tartar, where we enjoyed an excellent
-meal, especially graced by the presence of a young wife, as pretty as a
-picture, who was summoned to the men’s apartments to do us honour. It
-was towards sunset that we left the town, which is not without historic
-interest.
-
-Tchukutchak is that town which in 1867, after a prolonged siege, fell
-into the hands of the Dungani, a Mongolian tribe, of Mohammedan faith,
-who had been for long in persistent insurrection against the Chinese
-rule. It was razed to the ground and no living creature spared. Of
-the thirty thousand souls who are said to have inhabited the town,
-over a third had found refuge in flight; the rest, confident in the
-success with which repeated assaults had been repulsed, remained to
-their destruction. When the Dungani succeeded in storming the town,
-they showed the same inhuman cruelty which the Chinese had shown to
-them. What the sword did not claim was destroyed by fire. When our
-escort, Captain Friedrichs, visited the place some fourteen days after
-the town had been stormed, the clouds of smoke had cleared from the
-charred ruins. Wolves and dogs, with bellies swollen from eating human
-flesh, slunk away sated, or refused to be disturbed in their horrible
-festival, and continued to gnaw at the bones of their old foes or
-masters. Eagles, kites, ravens, and crows shared the spoil. In places
-where the insurgents had made space for themselves, the corpses were
-thrown together in heaps, dozens and hundreds together; in other parts
-of the town, in the streets, courts, and houses, corpses lay singly, in
-couples, in tens,--husband and wife, great-grandparents, grandmothers,
-mothers, and children, whole families and neighbours who had sought
-refuge with them. Their foreheads were gashed with sword-cuts, their
-features decayed and burned, their limbs gnawed and torn by the teeth
-of dogs and wolves, their bodies headless and handless. Whatever horror
-the maddest imagination ever pictured was here realized.
-
-At the present day there are at most a thousand inhabitants in
-Tchukutchak, and the newly-erected battlemented fort is actually under
-the protection of the small Russian picket of Bakti. That the Dungani
-have not yet laid down their arms nor been subdued, was sufficiently
-proved by the recent march of a Chinese army into the valley of the
-Emil, where insurrection is again threatened.
-
-Under the escort of Major Tichanoff and his thirty Cossacks we
-traversed this valley without seeing a single Dungani, indeed without
-meeting a human being for days. The Emil, arising from the Zaur, flows
-between the Tarabagatai and Semistan--two mountain ranges which meet
-at an acute angle--and receives numberless small tributaries on either
-side. The genius which the Chinese have for irrigation had utilized all
-the streams, and made a fruitful garden of the whole valley till the
-Dungani broke into and devastated the fertile land, and surrendered
-it once more to the steppe-land from which it had been won. In the
-neighbourhood of the town we passed through several small villages, and
-we came across a Kalmuck aul, but apart from these we saw only the ruin
-of former possession, comfort, and industry. Over the fields Nature
-herself had drawn a veil with gentle hand, but the ruined villages,
-not yet destroyed by storm and tempest, cried aloud to heaven. When
-we visited these villages, the tragedy of bygone days was appallingly
-clear. Between the crumbling walls, whose roofs had been burnt and
-whose gables had wholly or partially fallen in, on the mouldering
-rubbish over which poisonous fungi ran riot, amid remnants of Chinese
-porcelain, and half-charred and thus preserved plenishings, we came
-everywhere on human remains, crumbling skulls, bones broken by the
-teeth of carnivores, and certain parts of the skeletons of domesticated
-animals, especially of the dog. The skulls still bore traces of the
-heavy blows which shattered them. The inhabitants had fallen before the
-rage of their murderous foes, and the dogs had shared the fate of their
-masters whom they may have been trying to protect; the other domestic
-animals had been driven away, plundered like the rest of the useful
-property, and the apparently useless residue had been broken up and
-burnt. Only two semi-domesticated animals remain, the swallow and the
-sparrow; the rest are replaced by ruin-loving birds.
-
-We passed cheerlessly through the desolate valley. Not one of the
-Dungani was to be seen, for behind our thirty Cossacks was the great
-power of Russia. The first human beings we came across were Russian
-Kirghiz, who, though in Chinese territory, were pasturing their flocks
-and tilling their fields as usual, and had even erected a monument to
-one of their dead.
-
-From the valley of the Emil we crossed the Tarabagatai by one of the
-lowest passes of the range, and thence descended to the almost flat
-plateau of Tchilikti, which lies over five thousand feet above the sea,
-surrounded by the Tarabagatai, Zaur, Manrak, Terserik, Mustau, and
-Urkashar. Crossing the plateau, passing some enormously large _Kurgans_
-or sepulchral mounds of the natives, we followed the serpentine valleys
-of the infinitely irregular Manrak mountains in order to reach the
-plain of Zaizan and the delightful town of the same name which had been
-erected as an outpost some four years previously. Here, close to the
-Chinese-Russian boundary, we found European comfort and civilization
-for the first time since leaving Lepsa. In the society which we enjoyed
-we seemed to be back again in St. Petersburg or Berlin. There was
-talking, playing, singing, and dancing both within the family circle
-and in the public gardens. The melody of nightingales accompanied the
-dance and song; one forgot where one was.
-
-I used the time of our sojourn here to hunt “ullars”, mountain-fowl
-resembling partridges, but as large as black-cock, and in so doing not
-only became acquainted with the wild grandeur of the Manrak mountains,
-but saw the life of the poorer Kirghiz herdsmen in a light new to me,
-and returned much satisfied with my excursion.
-
-On the afternoon of the 31st May we again set off in our wagon, making
-for the Black Irtish in order to meet General Poltoratski at an
-appointed rendezvous in the Altai mountains. We drove rapidly through
-the rich steppe-land, over coal-black soil, and afterwards over the
-drier high-steppes till we came to the river, whose rolling waves bore
-us next day to the lake of Zaizan. Hitherto all the Siberian rivers and
-streams had seemed rather tedious; but on the Black Irtish it was far
-otherwise. We got lovely views of the two great mountains--Zaur and
-Altai--and the adjacent ranges, while the fresh green banks, cheerful
-with singing birds, gladdened our eyes and ears. A rapid cast of the
-net brought us an abundant catch of delicious fishes, and proved that
-the river was as rich as it was beautiful. On the 2nd June we crossed
-the shallow and muddy lake, exceedingly rich in fishes, but attractive
-only in the peeps of distant scenery which were to be got from its
-surface, and on the next day we traversed the dreariest part of the
-steppe which we had yet seen. Here, however, we made the acquaintance
-of three most noteworthy steppe animals--the wild horse or kulan, the
-saiga antelope, and Pallas’ sand-grouse. Our Kirghiz secured a kulan
-foal and shot one of the birds. In the evening we rested among the
-spurs of Altai, and next day we met our former hosts at the appointed
-place, and continued our journey under their guidance.
-
-It was a delightful journey, though wind, snow, and rain were all too
-frequent, and robbed the pleasant yurt (which we carried with us)
-of much of its comfort, though torrents barred our path, and though
-we had to find our way along precipitous slopes such as at home a
-chamois-hunter, but certainly no horseman would attempt. A Russian
-Governor does not travel like an ordinary mortal, least of all when
-he journeys through uninhabited territory. He is accompanied by the
-district-officers and their subordinates, by the elders and clerks
-of the community, by the _elite_ of the district which he visits,
-by a troop of Cossacks and their officers including the captain, by
-his own servants and those of his escort, &c. And when, as in this
-case, the expedition is to a comparatively unknown country, when it
-is necessary to consult with Kirghiz communities, the cavalcade is
-enormously increased. For not only have yurts and tents to be carried,
-as is usual on steppe journeys, but flocks of sheep have to go on in
-front of the little army to feed the hundreds on their way through the
-barren wilderness. Since leaving the Zaizan lake we had been once more
-in China, and a journey of several days had to be faced before we could
-hope to come across human settlements, which are confined to the deeper
-valleys among the mountains.
-
-At first we were accompanied by more than two hundred men, mostly
-Kirghiz, who had been summoned to receive an imperial order relating
-to the suspension of their pasture-rights in the crown-lands of the
-Altai, and to come to an agreement as to consequent changes in their
-wanderings. But even after the deliberations were ended, our retinue
-still numbered over a hundred horses and sixty men. In the early
-morning the yurts were raised from over our heads and sent on in
-front with the baggage; then we followed in companies, riding slowly
-until the ladies, the General’s amiable wife and daughter, overtook
-us. We breakfasted at some suitable spot, waited till the last of the
-pack-horses had gone ahead, and then went on, usually reaching our
-halting-place along with the daily dwindling flock of sheep which
-always started first. Thus, every evening, we had an opportunity
-of watching the pleasant picture of camp-life take form before us.
-Lovely verdant valleys full of spring’s fragrance invited us; from the
-lofty precipitous mountains, still snow-capped, we got glimpses of
-the distant highlands and of the steppe-land, which we had traversed,
-stretching to the Zaur and the Tarabagatai; and at last we caught sight
-of Markakul--the pearl among the mountain lakes of the Altai--and
-entered the highlands proper. For three long days we journeyed along
-the lake, hindered by bad roads and bad weather, and delayed by a
-Chinese embassy sent to the Governor; then we rode through dense
-forests and over scarce surmountable passes, and down by breakneck
-paths towards the Russian frontier, and into the fertile valley of
-the Buchtarma. There in the newly-established Cossack settlement the
-Altaiskaya-Stanitza, we were again able to enjoy Russian hospitality
-and to rest in comfort.
-
-The officers of the Stanitza were kind enough to present us with
-samples of the produce of the district, and we continued our journey
-on the 12th of June. The sun shone cheerfully down from a cloudless
-sky on the splendid landscape, now for the first time unveiled.
-Immense park-like valleys, surrounded by steeply towering, snow-capped
-mountains, suffused with bewitching colours, beautiful trees on the
-meadows, blossoming bushes on the slopes, and an infinite wealth of
-flowers, beautiful beyond description, and as it were exultant in the
-sunlight long denied to them, newly unfolded wild roses, the call of
-the cuckoo and songs from a hundred throats, the auls of the Kirghiz
-in the broader valleys, and the Russian villages surrounded by green
-shrubs, grazing herds, fruitful fields, rushing brooks, and jagged
-rocks, mild air and the balmy fragrance breathing of spring--such were
-some of the elements which intoxicated the senses and made our journey
-a continual delight. Soon we crossed the boundaries of the crown-lands
-of the Altai, a property not much smaller than France! At the end of a
-day’s journey we reached the little town of Serianoffsk with its silver
-mines. After we had been hospitably entertained and had inspected
-all the works, we turned again to the Irtish, and were borne by the
-rapid stream through deep and picturesque gorges past Buchtarminsk to
-Ustkamenogorsk, whence we journeyed in wagons once more through these
-crown-lands which give promise of a rich future. Steppe-like plains
-adjoin the pleasant tracts which lie along the spurs of the mountains;
-extensive forests alternate with cultivated land. Large prosperous
-villages; valuable, fertile fields of coal-black soil; well-built men
-with a look of conscious prosperity, beautiful women in picturesque
-costume, both child-like in their inquisitiveness and in their
-good-nature; excellent, serviceable, untiring horses, and powerful,
-shapely oxen lying at ease in large herds; an endless succession of
-caravans bearing ore and coal along well-made roads, marmots on the
-slopes of the mountains, souslik on the plains, imperial eagles on the
-guide-posts by the highway, charming little gulls on the water-basins
-and about the townships--such cheerful pictures enlivened our route. We
-hastened through the country as if in flight, paying a passing visit
-to the mining town appropriately called Schlangenberg (Snake-town),
-and allowing ourselves but a short rest in the country-town of Barnaul.
-Thence we journeyed to the little hill-town of Zalair, and thence to
-the great government-town of Tomsk.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 59.--Imperial Eagle, Marmot, and Souslik.]
-
-Before we came to Barnaul we had reached the Obi; at Barnaul we crossed
-it, and at Tomsk we embarked on board a boat. Through its tributary the
-Tom we entered this giant river, whose basin is larger than that of
-all the west European rivers taken together, and sailed for about 1700
-miles, towards the north. For four days and nights the river--flooded
-to its highest water-mark--bore us at a rate almost twice as quick
-as a steamboat hastening up-stream; we required eleven full days and
-nights to cover the distance between the mouth of the Irtish and that
-of the Shtchutshya, although we only rested a few hours in Samarowo
-and Bereosoff, and did not include in our reckoning the two days which
-we spent in Obdorsk, the last Russian village on the river. The river
-is gigantic and most impressive, dreary and monotonous though it be
-called. In one valley, whose breadth varied from six to sixteen miles,
-it split up into numerous branches surrounding countless islands, and
-often broadening out into extensive lake-like shallows; near its mouth
-the depth of water in the main stream--miles in breadth--was on an
-average about 90 feet. Primeval forests, hardly broken by clearings,
-into whose heart not even the natives have penetrated, clothed the true
-banks of the river; willow-woods in all stages of growth covered the
-islands, which are continually carved at by the floods, eaten away, and
-built up afresh. The further down we went the poorer became the land,
-the thinner and more scanty the woods, the more miserable the villages,
-though as the river nears its mouth the water liberally supplies the
-food which the land itself denies. Not far below Tomsk, beyond Tobolsk,
-the soil ceases to reward cultivation, further down the grazing of
-cattle gradually ceases; but the river teems with shoals of valuable
-fishes, and the primeval forests along its shores yield rich spoil to
-the huntsman. Fisher-folk and huntsmen replace the peasants, and the
-reindeer herdsmen the cattle tenders. Russian settlements become more
-and more rare, the homes of the Ostiaks become more frequent, until
-at length the only visible signs of man’s presence are the movable,
-conical, birch-bark huts or “tshums” of the Ostiaks, and occasional
-exceedingly miserable log-huts, the temporary shelters of Russian
-fishermen.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 60.--An Ostiak Settlement on the Banks of the Obi.]
-
-We had determined to explore a tundra or moss-steppe, and had therefore
-fixed upon the Samoyede peninsula between the Ob and the Kara Sea, all
-the more because a solution of certain important commercial problems
-was to be looked for in this portion of the broad treeless zone which
-encircles the pole--a region, moreover, on which Europeans had scarcely
-as yet set foot. In Obdorsk and further down-stream we hired for this
-journey several Russians, Syryanians, Ostiaks, and Samoyedes, and set
-out on the 15th of July.
-
-From the northern heights of the Ural range, which is here represented
-by lofty mountains, three rivers arise near one another, the Ussa, a
-tributary of the Petchora, the Bodarata, which enters the Kara Sea,
-and the Shtchutshya, which flows into the Obi. It was the basin of the
-last, Shtchutshya, which we determined to visit. But no one could tell
-us what the country was like, how we should fare, whether we might hope
-to find reindeer or be forced to go afoot.
-
-To the mouth of the Shtchutshya river we journeyed in the usual
-fashion, paying off our oarsmen at each Ostiak settlement and hiring
-others; when we reached the river our own followers began their work.
-For eight days we worked slowly up the stream, following its countless
-serpentine windings further into the monotonous, indeed dismally
-tedious tundra, now approaching the Ural range, and again diverging
-from it. For eight long days we saw no human beings, but only traces
-of their presence,--their necessary property packed on sledges for the
-winter, and their burial-places. Treacherous swamps on both sides of
-the river prevented us from making inland excursions, and millions of
-bloodthirsty mosquitoes tormented us without ceasing. On the seventh
-day we saw a dog--quite an event for us and our crew; on the eighth day
-we came upon an inhabited tshum, and in it the only man who could tell
-us about the country before us. We took him with us as a guide, and
-with him, three days later, we set out on an expedition which proved as
-dangerous as it was fatiguing.
-
-We were told that reindeer were to be found nine full days’ journey
-from us, on the pasturage of Saddabei in the Ural range; at this season
-there was not one to be got near the Shtchutshya. There was nothing
-for it but to set off on foot, and to face, as best we might, the
-difficulties and hardships of a journey through a pathless, barren,
-mosquito-plagued district, altogether hostile to man, and worst of
-all--unknown!
-
-After careful and prolonged consultation with the natives our
-preparations were made, the burdens which each one was to bear were
-carefully weighed, for the spectre of starvation loomed before us. Full
-well we knew that only the nomad herdsman--but no huntsman--was able
-to keep body and soul together on the tundra; well we knew by previous
-experience all the trials of the pathless way, all the torments which
-the army of mosquitoes promised, the inconstancy of the weather, and
-the general inhospitability of the tundra, and we made our preparations
-with due consideration of all these. But we could not prepare for
-what we did not know and could not foretell, and for what, in fact,
-eventually befell us. Not that we wished to turn back, though, had we
-foreseen what was to happen, we might well have done so.
-
-Dressed in short fur, heavily laden with knapsack, weapons, and
-ammunition, we set off on the 29th of July, leaving our boat in the
-charge of two of our company. Painfully we tramped, gasping under
-our burdens, stopping every hour and half hour, and at length every
-thousand paces, but finding no rest on account of the mosquitoes,
-which tortured us day and night without ceasing. We ascended countless
-hills, and traversed as many valleys, we waded through as many marshes
-and morasses; we passed by hundreds of nameless lakes, and crossed a
-multitude of swamps and streams.
-
-As it happened, the tundra could not well have been more inhospitable.
-The wind beat the drizzling rain into our faces; drenched to the skin
-we lay down on the soaking soil, without roof to cover us, or fire
-to warm us, and unceasingly tormented by mosquitoes. But the sun
-dried us again, gave us new courage and strength, and on we went. A
-piece of good news did us more good than sun or sleep. Our followers
-discovered two tshums, and with our field-glasses we distinctly saw the
-reindeer around them. Heartily delighted, we already pictured ourselves
-stretched comfortably in the sledge, the only possible vehicle in such
-a district, and we seemed to see the quickly-stepping antlered team. We
-reached the tshum and the reindeer; a dismal sight met our eyes. For
-among the herds splenic fever was raging--the most dreadful, and for
-man also the most dangerous of plagues, the most inexorable messenger
-of death, unsparing and merciless. Against its ruin-bringing attacks
-man is powerless; it reduces peoples to poverty, and claims its victims
-as surely from among men as among beasts.[81]
-
-I counted seventy-six dead reindeer in the immediate neighbourhood
-of the tshum. Wherever the eye turned it lighted on carcasses or on
-beasts, both young and old, lying at their last gasp. Others came, with
-death at their heart, to the sledges already loaded for departure, as
-if they hoped to find help and safety in the neighbourhood of man.
-They would not be driven away, but remained stock-still for a couple
-of minutes with staring eyes and crossed fore-legs, then swayed from
-side to side, groaned and fell; a white foam issued from mouth and
-nose, a few convulsions, and another was dead. Milk-giving mothers and
-their calves separated themselves from the herd; the mothers succumbed
-with similar symptoms; the calves looked on curiously, as if amazed
-at their mother’s strange behaviour, or grazed unconcernedly beside
-the death-bed. When they came near, and found instead of their devoted
-mother a corpse, they snuffed at this, recoiled in terror, and hastened
-away, straying hither and thither and crying. They sought to approach
-one or other of the adults, but were repulsed by all, and continued
-lowing and searching until they found what they did not seek--death,
-from an arrow sped by the hand of their owner, who sought to save at
-least their skin. Death was equally unsparing of old and young; before
-the destroying angel the strongest and stateliest stags fell as surely
-as the yearlings of both sexes.
-
-Schungei, the owner of the herd, his relatives and servants, hurried
-to and fro among the dead and dying beasts, seeking with mad eagerness
-to save whatever was possible. Although not unaware of the dreadful
-danger to which they exposed themselves if the minutest drop of blood
-or a particle of the infected foam should enter their system, knowing
-well that hundreds of their race had died in agony from the incurable
-plague, they worked with all their strength skinning the poisoned
-corpses. A blow from a hatchet ended the sufferings of the dying deer,
-an arrow killed the calves, and in a few minutes the skin--which for
-weeks is quite capable of spreading the infection--was off and lying
-beside the others. With blood-stained hands the men dipped morsels
-cut from the bodies of the calves into the blood collected in the
-chest-cavity, and swallowed them raw. The men seemed like executioners,
-the women like horrible harpies, and both like blood-smeared hyænas
-wallowing in carrion. Careless of the sword of death which hung over
-their heads, rather by a gossamer thread than by a hair, they grubbed
-and wallowed, helped even by their children, from half-grown boys down
-to a little girl hardly more than a suckling.
-
-The tshums were shifted to an adjacent hill. The unfortunate herd,
-which had started from the Ural two thousand strong, and had now
-dwindled to a couple of hundred, whose path was marked by a line of
-carcasses, was collected afresh around the tshum; but next morning
-there were again forty corpses around the resting-place.
-
-We knew the danger of infection from animals with splenic fever or
-anthrax, but we had not adequately appreciated its extent. Thus we
-bought some fresh, apparently quite healthy reindeer, harnessed them to
-three sledges, loaded these with our baggage, and striding beside them
-went on our way lightened. The plague forbade us from getting reindeer
-flesh to eat, as we had hoped, and we began to look around more
-carefully and anxiously for some small game, a willow grouse, a great
-snipe, a golden plover, or a duck. Sparing our slender supplies to the
-utmost, we crouched around the miserable fire, whenever the least of
-Diana’s nymphs had been propitious, and collectively roasted our paltry
-spoil as best we might. Of satisfying our hunger there was no longer
-any possibility.
-
-After we had crossed the way of death which Schungei had followed, we
-reached the first goal, the Bodarata. There we had the inestimable good
-fortune to find more tshums and reindeer. Thus aided we made for the
-sea, but we were forced to turn without setting foot on the shore. For
-before us lay not only a pathless morass, but again a countless heap of
-reindeer carcasses; we were once more on the path by which Schungei had
-fled homewards, and our new acquaintance, the herdsman Zanda, would not
-dare to cross it.
-
-For in his herd also death had been busy with his scythe; the
-destroyer had visited his house, and yet more disastrously those of
-his neighbours. The man who had been his companion on his wanderings
-had eaten of an infected fat reindeer which he had hastily killed, and
-he had paid for his rashness with his own life and that of his family.
-Thrice had the herd Zanda shifted his tshum, and thrice he had dug
-a grave among the corpses of the reindeer. First, two children fell
-victims to the dread disease, then the thoughtless man’s servant, on
-the third day the man himself. Another child was still ill, groaning in
-its agony, when we set out on our journey to the sea; its cries were
-silenced when we returned to the tshum, for the grave had received a
-fifth victim. And this was not to be the last.
-
-One of our men, the Ostiak Hadt, a willing, cheerful fellow, who had
-endeared himself to us, had been complaining since the day before of
-torturing pains which became ever more severe. He complained especially
-of an increasing sensation of cold. We had placed him on one of the
-sledges when we reached the herdsman’s tshum, and thus we bore him when
-the tshum was shifted for the fifth time. He lay at the fire moaning
-and whining in our midst. From time to time he raised himself and bared
-his body to the warmth of the fire. Similarly he pushed his numb feet
-against the flames, and seemed to care not that they singed. At length
-we fell asleep, perhaps he did also, but when we awoke next morning his
-bed was empty. Outside, in front of the tshum, he sat quietly leaning
-on a sledge, with his face to the sun, whose warmth he sought. Hadt was
-dead.
-
-Some hours later we buried him according to the customs of his people.
-He was a true “heathen”, and in heathenish fashion he should be buried.
-Our “orthodox” companions hesitated to do this; our “heathen” followers
-helped us in the ceremony, which, though not Christian, was at any rate
-dignified and human. The grave received its sixth victim.
-
-Should this be the last? Involuntarily this question arose; it
-was gruesome for us all to have death as a travelling companion.
-Fortunately for us, Hadt’s grave was the last on this journey.
-
-Seriously, very seriously, still oppressed by increasing dearth of
-provisions, we turned again towards the Shtchutshya. Zanda provided
-a scant diet for our followers, while we relied on what we could
-shoot, and were pinched enough. But one forenoon we captured a family
-of geese, and shot several willow grouse, snipe, and plovers, and
-celebrated a feast, for it was pleasant to be able to eat without
-counting the mouthfuls. But without the help of our host it would
-hardly have been possible for us to have survived.
-
-We reached the river, and, almost at the end of our stores, we regained
-our boat. Here we feasted on fare which was poor enough, though, after
-a fortnight’s privation, it seemed most sumptuous. We said farewell for
-ever to the tundra.
-
-A Shaman, whom we had found busy fishing further up the Obi, and had
-asked to give us a sample of his art and wisdom, had duly beaten his
-dull-sounding drum to summon Yamaul, the messenger of the gods, who
-befriended him, and had told us that we should next year revisit the
-inhospitable country which we had just left, but that we should then
-go to the region where the Shtchutshya, Bodarata, and Ussa have their
-source. For two emperors would reward us, and the elders of our people
-would be satisfied with our report, and send us forth again. Moreover,
-on our journey no further misfortune would befall us. So the messenger
-of the gods, perceived by him alone, had said.
-
-The last part of his prophecy was true enough. Slowly but without
-mishap or accident we journeyed for twenty-three days up the Obi,
-and after long delay we fortunately reached a steamboat, on which
-we ascended the Irtish for three days. Without misfortune, though
-not without hindrance, we crossed the Ural, in a comfortable steamer
-we glided swiftly down the Kama, more slowly we ascended the Volga.
-In Nijni-Novgorod, in Moscow, in St. Petersburg, we were hospitably
-received, as before, and were joyously welcomed at home. Our “elders”
-seem to have been well pleased with our report, but to the tundra I at
-least shall never return.
-
-
-
-
-THE HEATHEN OSTIAKS.
-
-
-The struggle for existence which man has to maintain in Siberia is
-easy and toilless now, and will probably remain so for centuries to
-come--easy and toilless especially among the lavishly endowed lands
-in the south of the country, and not too hard or laborious even
-in those regions which we are wont to picture as an icy waste, an
-inhospitable desert, which we still regard in this light if we only
-travel hastily and unwillingly through them. In the far north of West
-Siberia the climate is harsh and severe; the earth which, a little
-below the surface, is frozen and stiffened for ever, refuses to bring
-forth fruit; the sun will not ripen the bread-yielding grain; but even
-here Nature has bountifully shaken her horn of plenty, for what the
-land denies, is yielded by the water. The people who have dwelt for
-centuries in these latitudes, which we so carefully avoid, may appear
-poor and miserable in our eyes; in reality they are neither. They are
-able to procure all they need; they can even secure many luxuries,
-for their country yields them much more than is enough merely to
-sustain life. They do of course struggle, more or less consciously,
-for “an existence worthy of man”, but not with any grudge, outspoken
-or suppressed, against those whose lot is happier. Indeed they are
-happier than we think, for they are more modest, more easily satisfied
-than we are; they are utterly ignorant of what we call passion in the
-stricter sense; they accept the pleasures within their reach with a
-childlike joy, and the sorrows which visit them, with that deeply felt
-but quickly forgotten grief which is characteristic of childhood.
-Black care may stand beside their bed; but they banish it whenever
-they perceive a ray of joy, and they forget affliction whenever the
-sun of good fortune once more shines upon them. They rejoice in wealth
-and complain of poverty, but they see their riches disappear without
-giving way to despair, and their poverty turn to wealth without losing
-their equanimity. Even in mature age they remain children in thought,
-feeling, and behaviour; they are happier than we.
-
-The Ostiaks with whom we came most frequently in contact on the lower
-Obi, whose society we preferred, and whom we learned to know best,
-belong to the Finnish family, and profess the same religion as another
-branch of the same family, the Samoyedes, while their manners, customs,
-and way of life generally, are approximately the same as those of all
-the Finns in a restricted sense, and therefore also of the Lapps. They
-are wandering herdsmen and fisher-folk, huntsmen and fowlers, like the
-Samoyedes and like the Lapps. Apart from their religion, and perhaps
-also their language, they resemble the Lapps more than the Samoyedes,
-for there are among them dwellers in fixed homes as well as nomadic
-herdsmen, while the Samoyedes, even when engaged in fishing, very
-rarely exchange their movable hut for a fixed log-house, at least in
-the parts of Siberia through which we travelled.
-
-It may be that the Ostiak tribe was more numerous at one time than it
-is now, but it was probably never a people in our sense of the word. In
-some parts of the territory inhabited, or at least traversed by them,
-the population is said to be continually decreasing, while in others
-it is slightly on the increase; but the extent of increase or decrease
-seems inconsiderable. To reckon the whole number of these people at
-fifty thousand individuals is probably a high estimate. In the whole of
-the great district of Obdorsk, which extends from 65 degrees northern
-latitude to the northern end of the Samoyede peninsula, and from the
-Ural to the upper Chass river, there live at present, according to
-official statistics, not more than five thousand three hundred and
-eighty-two male Ostiaks, of whom not more than one thousand three
-hundred and seventy-six are able-bodied or assessable men. If we take
-for granted that there are as many women and girls, the whole number
-does not reach eleven thousand; and the above estimate is rather too
-high than too low, even though the tract inhabited by our people
-extends up the Obi to the district of Surgut, and up the Irtish to the
-neighbourhood of Tobolsk.
-
-All the Ostiaks on the upper Irtish and middle Obi live in fixed
-log-houses, very simple, but resembling those of the Russians, and only
-here and there among these permanent dwellings, which indicate a higher
-degree of civilization, do we come upon a birch-bark tent or tshum. On
-the other hand, on the lower Obi, and especially between Obdorsk and
-the mouth of the stream, only birch-tents are to be seen, and they are,
-naturally, the only homes of the nomadic reindeer herdsman. Almost,
-if not exactly in agreement with this difference in dwelling, is the
-difference in religion, for the Ostiaks inhabiting settled villages
-belong to the Orthodox Greek Catholic Church, and are reckoned among
-its members, as they have been baptized, while those dwelling in the
-tshum are still true to their ancient faith, which, although regarded
-by the Russian priests and their followers as blind heathenism, is by
-no means devoid of poetic grandeur, still less of moral worth. The
-tent-dwellers certainly practise their religion with more ardour and
-conviction than the settled villagers do their so-called Christianity,
-which, as far as can be observed, seems to an unbiassed onlooker rather
-a superstitious idolatry than a nobler substitute for the religion
-which grew out of a childlike mood, and finds expression in childlike
-ways. With the adoption of log-houses and of Christianity, the Ostiaks
-of the central Obi and lower Irtish regions have, to a certain extent,
-given up their own dress in favour of that of the neighbouring Russian
-fisher-folk, and in their intercourse with these, have adopted many of
-their manners and customs. In part, too, they have lost their purity
-of race, and have retained only the inalienable characteristics, the
-language and all peculiarities preserved by it, perhaps also the
-skill, dexterity, and harmless good-nature common to all the Ostiaks.
-But one cannot venture to assert that their morals have improved
-with their civilization, or that their purity of life has increased
-with Christianity; and in any case it is more satisfactory to get
-to know the heathen Ostiaks, and to come into close contact with a
-still primitive people, than to concern ourselves with that portion
-of the tribe which gives us but a dim picture of what they once
-were, or others still are. I shall, therefore, limit my remarks to a
-consideration of those Ostiaks who worship the divinity Ohrt, who live
-in polygamy when their means permit, who bury their dead exactly as
-their fathers did. My sketch will lose nothing, and will gain in unity,
-if it takes account of these alone, and leaves the others out.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 61.--Huts and Winter Costume of the Christian
-Ostiaks.]
-
-It is difficult to speak of a common type among the Ostiaks, and still
-more difficult to describe it. I have repeatedly attempted to do
-this, but have always been forced to recognize the impossibility of
-adequately describing a face in words, or of satisfactorily delineating
-with the pen those tribal peculiarities which are evident enough
-to the eye. In shape of face, colour of skin, hair, and eyes, they
-vary greatly; their racial affinity, that is, their Mongol origin,
-is by no means always very apparent, in fact, it is often difficult
-to detect, and when at last one imagines one has formulated certain
-definite average characteristics, one learns from other members of the
-same stock that their applicability is only relative and by no means
-unconditional. In what follows I shall attempt to give a comprehensive
-idea of what I saw among the Ostiaks whom we observed.
-
-The Ostiaks are of middle height, somewhat slender in general build,
-their hands, feet, and limbs generally well-proportioned, the hands
-perhaps rather large, the calves of the legs almost always thin; their
-features seem intermediate between those of the other Mongols and
-those of the North American Indians: for their brown eyes are small
-and always set obliquely, though by no means very strikingly so; the
-cheek-bones are not very prominent, but the lower portion of the
-face is so compressed towards the narrow pointed chin that the whole
-has an angular appearance, indeed, as the lips are also sharply cut,
-it is often really cat-like, especially among women and children,
-though the nose is, on the whole, slightly, and in many cases not at
-all flattened. The rich, smooth, but not stiff, hair is usually dark
-brown or black, rarely light brown, and still more rarely blonde; the
-beard is scanty, but this is chiefly in consequence of the habit young
-dandies have of pulling out the hairs; the eyebrows are thick, often
-bushy. The colour of the skin is not much less white than that of a
-European who is much in the open air and exposed to wind and weather,
-and the yellowish look which it usually has is sometimes entirely
-awanting.
-
-Though the above holds good of most Ostiaks, I do not mean to imply
-that one can have any doubt about their racial affinities if one
-examines them closely. In a few individuals the Mongolian traits are
-apparent on the most cursory glance; these types are small in stature,
-the lively brown eyes are elongated and obliquely set, the cheek-bones
-are very prominent, the stiff hair is deep black, and all the exposed
-parts of the body have a decided copper-red or leather-brown colour.
-
-I can offer no opinion as to the language of the Ostiaks; I can only
-say that it embraces two dialects which can be readily distinguished
-even by strangers. That in use on the middle Obi is euphonious, if
-somewhat drawling and sing-song, while that prevailing on the lower
-Obi, probably because of the general habit of preferring the softer
-Samoyede tongue, is much more rapid and flowing, though there is still
-distinct enunciation of the syllables.
-
-The Christian Ostiaks, as has already been mentioned, imitate the dress
-of the Russians, and the clothing of their women only differs from that
-of the Russian fisher-women in being decorated in many places with
-glass beads, and in the addition of special sash-like ribbons, like
-the stole of a Catholic priest, embroidered all over with such beads.
-The heathen Ostiaks, on the other hand, use nothing but the skin of
-the reindeer for clothing, and only employ the furs of other animals
-for the occasional decoration of the reindeer, or, as the Russians
-call them, stag skins. Their dress consists of a close-fitting skin
-coat reaching to the knee; in the men it is slit down the breast, in
-the women it is open down the whole front, but held together with
-leather thongs; a hood of the same material is usually attached to or
-forms part of the dress; mittens also are sewn on; leather breeches
-reach below the knee; and leather stockings, which fasten over the
-knee, complete the attire. The fur garment worn by the women is
-edged down the sides of the opening with a carefully pieced border of
-variously-coloured little squares of short-haired fur, and has always a
-broad band of dog-skin round the foot; that worn by the men has at most
-a border of dog-skin, and has always a hood; the leather stockings,
-if they are decorated at all, are composed of many prettily-combined,
-diversely-coloured stripes of skin from the leg of a reindeer, with a
-stout shoe partly sewn on, partly laced over the foot. A broad leather
-belt, usually studded with metal buttons, confines the man’s garment at
-the waist and holds his knife; a gaily-coloured head-wrap, with long
-fringes, which replaces the hood in summer, falls down over the woman’s
-dress. Shirts are unknown; but, on the other hand, the woman wears a
-girdle, of a kind unknown among us. By way of ornament, the woman puts
-on her fingers as many brass, or, where circumstances permit, silver
-rings as the lower joint will wear, so that that portion of the hand is
-literally mailed; a more or less handsome string of glass beads is hung
-round the neck, and very heavy tassel-like ear-rings of glass beads,
-twisted wire, and metal buttons, are hung rather over than in the ear;
-finally, the hair is plaited into two rope-like braids reaching to the
-middle of the calf, and interwoven with woollen threads. The Ostiak
-dandy dresses his hair in the same way--a proof that fools are alike
-all the world over--while the ordinary man usually wears his hair long,
-but loose.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 62.--“Heathen” Ostiaks, Reindeer, and Tshums.]
-
-Still simpler than the dress, but equally well adapted to its
-purpose,--for their costume, though not beautiful, is suited alike for
-summer and winter use,--is the dwelling of the Ostiak, a cone-shaped,
-movable hut covered with birch-bark, the tshum of the fisher-folk and
-wandering herdsmen. The framework is formed of twenty or thirty thin,
-smooth poles, from four to six yards in length, and pointed at both
-ends. These are fixed in a circle, which is very exact though measured
-only by the eye, two of them bent towards each other are fastened near
-their tops with a short cord, and serve as a support for all the rest.
-The outer covering consists of from five to eight sheets cut to the
-convex curve of the cone, and composed of little pieces of birch-bark
-previously boiled and thus rendered pliant. On the least exposed side
-is an opening which serves as a door, and which can be closed at will
-with another sheet of bark; the pointed top of the tent is always
-left uncovered to admit of the free passage of smoke. From the door
-straight to the opposite side of the hut runs a passage, in the middle
-of which the fire is built; over this two horizontal poles, fastened
-to the supports of the hut, serve as a drying-stand, from which also
-the cooking-kettle hangs. To right and left of the passage, boards,
-or at least mats, are laid down, and serve as flooring and also to
-mark off the sleeping places, whose head-end is towards the wall.
-Mats, made of bundles of sedge, long-haired, soft reindeer skins, and
-cushions stuffed with reindeer hair or dried moss, form the bed, and
-its coverings are of fur. A mosquito tent, under which the whole family
-creeps in summer, protects the sleepers more effectually against the
-winged tormentors than the smoky fire of rotten willow wood which is
-kept constantly burning in the entrance of the tshum. Cooking vessels,
-tea and drinking kettles, bowls, leather bags for holding flour and
-hard-baked bread, little chests with locks for holding the most
-valuable possessions, especially the tea-set, an axe, a gimlet, leather
-scrapers, a bowl-like work-box, a bow, crossbow or gun, snow-shoes, and
-various implements of the chase, make up the domestic plenishings. A
-household god replaces the crucifix, which is rarely absent from the
-huts of the Christian Ostiaks.
-
-The tshum is protected against the cold and storms of winter by a
-leather covering of worn-out skins sewn together, or, more effectually,
-by spreading a second layer of sheets of birch-bark over the first.
-
-If the owner of the tshum be a fisherman, one may see in front of his
-dwelling drying-stands for hanging up the nets, and others for drying
-fish, all very carefully made; also exceedingly light, daintily-wrought
-fishing-baskets, several excellent little boats, and other fishing
-apparatus; if he be also a huntsman there are in addition all kinds
-of implements of the chase, such as bows and spring-crossbows; if he
-be a reindeer-herdsman there are several well-made sledges with their
-appropriate harness, and the boat which is also indispensable.
-
-Every Ostiak is experienced in fishing, almost all hunt or set snares,
-but not all are herdsmen. To possess reindeer means, among them, to be
-well-to-do, to possess many is to be rich; to live by fishing alone is
-poverty. Horses and cows are to be seen in some of their settlements,
-though in very small numbers, and only in the district about the
-middle of the river-basin; sheep, and sometimes even a cat may be kept;
-but the real domestic animals are the reindeer and dog. Without these,
-especially without the reindeer, a well-to-do man would scarcely think
-life possible, and it is indeed to them he owes all that makes up what
-he looks on as the joy of existence. As the Bedouin, the wandering
-herdsman of Central Africa, deems himself superior to those of his race
-who till the fields; as the Kirghiz looks down almost contemptuously on
-those who strive to wrest subsistence from the soil, so the possessor,
-or even the herdsman of reindeer, only uses net and hook to supply
-his own necessities, while the fisherman casts his nets and sets his
-baskets not for himself alone, but in the service of others. The wealth
-of a man is calculated by the number of his reindeer; with them his
-prosperity and his happiness are alike bound up. And when the deadly
-murrain annihilates his herds, he loses not wealth and happiness
-alone, but much more: esteem and rank, self-respect and confidence,
-even, it may be, his religion, manners, and morals, in short--himself.
-“As long as the plague did not ravage our herds,” said the district
-governor, Mamru, the most intelligent Ostiak whom we met, “we lived
-joyously and were rich, but since we have begun to lose them, we are
-gradually becoming poor fishermen; without the reindeer we cannot
-hold out, we cannot live.” Poor Ostiaks! in these words your doom
-is pronounced. Even now the reindeer, which once were counted by
-hundreds of thousands, have dwindled to a total of fifty thousand, and
-still the Destroying Angel passes almost yearly through the antlered
-herds. What will be the end? The Russian priests will gain more and
-more Christians, the Russian fishermen more and more hirelings, but
-the Ostiaks will be Ostiaks only in name, and that at no far distant
-time.[82]
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 63.--Ostiaks with Reindeer and Sledge.]
-
-The reindeer of Northern Asia is an essentially different creature from
-that of Lapland, for it is not only larger and more stately, but it
-is a domestic animal in the best sense of that term. We all imagined
-we knew the reindeer; for in Lapland we had examined it precisely
-and carefully with the eye of the naturalist; but in Siberia we were
-obliged to admit that till then we had gained a very imperfect idea of
-this most remarkable of domestic animals. In Lapland we had known
-the deer ceaselessly resisting, submitting with visible reluctance to
-the yoke of the little men, and always apparently bent on regaining its
-freedom; here in Siberia we found a docile, willing animal, attached to
-man, and trusting in him. Certainly the Ostiak knows well how to deal
-with it. Though he does not treat it with the tenderness he bestows
-on his dog, he is, on the whole, not unkind to it, and he is very
-rarely rough or brutal. Unlike the Laplander, he refrains from milking
-it, but he harnesses it more frequently; for, winter and summer, it
-must draw him and his family, the tshum with its appurtenances, and
-all the other requisites for the continual migrations. The Lapp, on
-the other hand, only harnesses the reindeer to his sledge in winter.
-Like the Lapp, the Ostiak makes use of every portion of the carcase
-of a slaughtered animal, with the sole exception of the stomach and
-intestines. The flesh serves him as food, the bones and horns make all
-sorts of implements, the tendons supply twine for sewing his clothing,
-that, and whatever else he requires in the way of leather, is furnished
-by the skin; even the hoofs are utilized. On a light sledge, drawn by
-the reindeer, the Ostiak travels, in summer and in winter, from place
-to place--to weddings, to festivals, to the chase, and to the burial
-of his friends; with it he draws his dead to their last resting-place;
-he slaughters the reindeer and eats it with his guests, or in honour
-of his dead, whom he wraps up in its skin, as he does himself. Truly,
-without the reindeer he cannot endure, cannot live.
-
-Of scarcely less importance than his horned herds is the Ostiak’s
-second domestic animal, the dog. It is possessed and cared for not
-only by the wandering herdsman, but by every Ostiak--fisher as well as
-huntsman, settler as well as nomad. The Ostiak dog is represented by
-two different breeds, whose chief difference, however, is only in size.
-Whether our dog-fanciers would find it beautiful I cannot say. For my
-part, I must pronounce it beautiful, because, with the sole exception
-of the colour, it possesses all the characteristics of a wild dog. It
-most resembles the Pomeranian dog, but is usually larger; indeed, it
-is often so large as to approach the wolf in size; and its slender
-build also distinguishes it from the Pomeranian. The head is elongated,
-the muzzle moderately long, the neck short, the body long, the limbs
-slender, the tail moderately long, the brassy eyes obliquely set,
-the short pointed ears held erect, the hair extraordinarily long and
-thick, consisting of a mixture of decidedly woolly and bristly hairs.
-The colour varies, but is predominantly pure white, or white with deep
-black, usually regular markings on both sides of the head, including
-the ears, on the back and on the sides of the body; or it may be wolf
-or mouse gray, or dun-coloured, watered and waved, but never striped.
-The slightly bushy tail is always carried hanging, or extended, but
-never curled, and the resemblance to a wild dog is thereby greatly
-increased.
-
-Constant and intimate association with man has transformed the Ostiak
-dog into an exceedingly good-natured animal. He is watchful but not
-given to biting, brave but not pugnacious, faithful and eager but not
-hostile to strangers nor violent. Though he hastens suspiciously,
-if not exactly with unfriendliness, towards a stranger, he becomes
-confiding as soon as he hears him speak with his master, or sees him
-step into the tshum. He is in no way pampered, for though he loves
-to share the dwelling of his master or mistress, he exposes himself
-without apparent discomfort to wind and weather, throws himself
-unhesitatingly into the cold water of the river and swims straight
-across a broad arm, or, when on a journey, trots on uncomplainingly
-under the sledge to which he is chained, whether the way lead over bog
-or morass, among dwarf-birch bushes or through water. Intelligent and
-cunning, ingenious and inventive, clever and active, he knows how to
-make his life comfortable, and to adapt himself to all situations. In
-the tshum he lies self-denyingly beside much-desired foods; outside of
-his master’s hut he is a bold and greedy thief; among the dwarf-birches
-of the tundra he trots indifferently under the sledge, but over smooth
-or other easy ground he places himself with all four legs together on
-the runners of the sledge and lets himself be carried. While hunting
-he is a faithful and useful assistant to his master, but he snaps away
-the game which he has scented and a stranger shot, and devours it with
-such an air of inoffensive enjoyment that one cannot be angry with
-him. In tending the herds he shows himself acquainted with all the
-peculiarities and tricks of the reindeer, and he is docile enough;
-but he is never quite so trustworthy as our sheep-dog, for he allows
-himself an opinion of his own, and only yields his services without
-resisting when it appears to him absolutely necessary.
-
-The Ostiak dog is at once playmate, sentinel of the tshum, guardian of
-the herds, and draught animal, and he is made use of even after death.
-He is only harnessed to the sledge in winter, but the harness is so
-awkward that if he has to exert himself much he becomes in a few years
-weak in the loins or hip-shot. After death his splendid coat is much
-prized; indeed, many of the Ostiaks evidently keep a disproportionately
-large number of dogs solely to have skins at their disposal every
-winter.
-
-It is probably for the same or some similar reason that the various
-mammals and birds, such as foxes, bears, owls, crows, cranes, swans,
-&c., which one sees chained in or before the tent of the fisherman
-or the herdsman, are taken from the nest and reared. As long as they
-are young they are tended carefully and kindly; whenever they are
-full-grown and in good fur or feather they are killed, the edible parts
-are eaten, and the skin or feathers made use of or sold, the former
-especially often fetching an astonishingly high price.
-
-Here, as everywhere else, the dog submits to man’s will, but man must
-adapt himself to the requirements of the reindeer. These requirements,
-and not the will or humour of the herdsman, determine the wanderings
-of the nomad Ostiak, as the coming and going of the fishes influences
-the doings of his relatives in fixed abodes, to a considerable extent
-at least. The migrations of the reindeer herdsmen and their herds take
-place for almost the same reasons and in the same direction as those
-of the Kirghiz, and are distinguished from them chiefly by the fact
-that they do not cease in winter, but rather become more constant and
-varied. When the snow begins to melt, the Ostiak herdsman travels
-slowly towards the mountains; when the mosquito plague begins he
-ascends their sides, or at least betakes himself to the shoulders of
-the ranges; when it ceases again--and even the open heights are not
-entirely free from it--he gradually descends to the low tundra to pass
-the winter, if possible on his native river-bank. This is the course
-of his life one year after another, unless he is visited by that most
-terrible of disasters, the reindeer plague.
-
-Before the short summer comes to the inhospitable land, before even
-the first breath of spring is stirring, when a thick sheet of ice
-lies still unbroken over the mighty river, its tributaries, and the
-innumerable lakes of the tundra, the reindeer bring forth their calves;
-it is therefore more than ever necessary to seek out a place which
-offers sufficient pasture for both mothers and young. Our herdsman
-migrates, therefore, not to the deepest valleys, but to the heights
-from whose crests the raging storms of winter have blown away much of
-the snow, and here, in the best available spot, he erects his tshum.
-For days, even weeks, he remains there until all the exposed reindeer
-moss has been eaten up, and the broad hoof of the reindeer itself,
-which has been used to clear away the snow, almost refuses duty. Then
-the herdsman breaks up his camp, and wends his way to some not far
-distant spot, which offers the same attractions as the first. Here,
-too, he remains until pasturage becomes too scarce, for this is still
-what he looks on as the good season. The herds feed in dense troops;
-among the stags, whose antlers have just begun to sprout, the deepest
-peace reigns; the calves are never lost sight of by their anxious
-parents; the herd neither scatters nor wanders out of hearing of the
-loud call which summons them to the tshum at sundown. At night, indeed,
-the greedy wolf, which has been driven by winter from the mountains,
-prowls around them, but the brave dogs keep sharp watch, and resist the
-cowardly robber; and our herdsman therefore is as little troubled about
-the wolves as he is about winter, which he, like all the peoples of the
-far north, looks on as the best season of the year. The days--still
-very short--are gradually lengthening, the nights becoming shorter,
-and the dangers threatening his defenceless herds are gradually
-diminishing. The river throws off its winter covering; and with the
-floods warmed in the steppes of the south, soft winds blow through the
-land; one hill-top after another is laid bare of snow, and here, as
-well as in the valleys, where the buds are sprouting luxuriantly, the
-weather-hardened animals find food in abundance. The low tundra has
-become a paradise in the eyes of our herdsman. But this comfortable
-life lasts only a short time. The quickly-rising sun, which shines
-longer and becomes hotter every day, soon melts the snow in the more
-level valleys and the ice in the broad lakes, thaws even the surface
-of the frozen earth, and calls into life, along with other harmless
-children of the spring, milliards of torturing gnats and persecuting
-gadflies, whose larvæ were snorted out of the reindeers’ nostrils only
-a few weeks before.[83] Now wandering begins in earnest; the herdsman
-travels, in short daily marches, but still hastily, towards the
-mountains.
-
-As soon as the dew is dry on the moss, lichens, grasses, and the young
-leaves of the dwarf bushes, the women take to pieces the tshum they
-erected only the day before, and load the sledges which were only then
-unladen. In the meantime the herdsman himself, on his light sledge
-drawn by four strong stags, goes in search of the herd scattered about
-to find pasture, or resting contentedly in groups, collects them and
-drives them towards the camping ground, where the rest of the family
-are prepared to receive them. Holding in their hands a thin rope, over
-which the reindeer seldom venture to jump, they form a circle round the
-herd; the herdsman, with his lasso in his right hand, goes in among
-the reindeer, throws his noose almost unfailingly round the neck or
-antlers of the chosen stags, secures and harnesses them, orders that
-all the others be let loose, mounts his sledge again and drives away
-in the direction of the next camping-ground. All the other sledges,
-driven by different members of the family, follow him in a long train,
-the whole free herd follows them, lowing or grunting, their hoofs
-crackling at every step. The dogs run about the whole procession,
-barking continually and collecting the animals that are inclined to
-wander. They cannot, however, prevent a few from breaking off from the
-sides of the herd and remaining behind. The herd spreads out more and
-more, picturesquely adorning all the heights; now and again they pause
-in groups over some favourite food; importuned by the calves the mother
-deer perform their maternal duties, and then, to please their satisfied
-offspring, lie down beside them till the eagle eye of the herdsman
-spies them, and, taking a wide circuit round the laggards, he drives
-them by a word of command, or by the help of the dogs, to join their
-fellows trotting briskly on ahead. Amid renewed general grunting, and
-loud barking from the dogs, the reassembled herd surges onwards; a very
-forest of antlers presses forwards, and something akin to sportsman’s
-joy stirs the heart of the spectator who is unfamiliar with the sight.
-
-The sun is declining; the draught animals groan heavily, their tongues
-hanging far out of their mouths; it is time to allow them rest. At a
-short distance, beside one of the innumerable lakes, there rises a
-low flat hill. Towards it the herdsman directs his course, and on its
-summit he brings his antlered team to a stand. One sledge after another
-arrives; the herd also soon comes up and immediately betakes itself to
-the best grazing-ground, quickly followed by the unharnessed draught
-animals.
-
-The women select a suitable spot for erecting the tshum, place the
-poles upright in a circle, and cover them with the sheets of bark; the
-herdsman in the meantime takes his already prepared noose, and with
-experienced eye picks out a young, fat stag from the herd. Quickly he
-casts the lasso over its horns and neck. In vain the animal struggles
-for his freedom; the huntsman comes nearer and nearer, and the reindeer
-follows him unresisting towards the tshum, which has now been erected.
-An axe-stroke on the back of the head fells the victim to the ground,
-and a knife is plunged into his heart. In a couple of minutes the
-animal is skinned and dexterously cut up. A minute later all the
-members of the family, who have assembled hastily, are dipping strips
-of cut-up liver into the blood collected in the breast-cavity, and the
-“bloody meal” begins. Crouching in a circle round the still warm stag,
-each cuts himself a rib or a piece of the back or haunch; lips become
-red as if they had been badly painted; drops of blood flow down over
-chin and breast; the hands, too, are stained, and, dripping with blood,
-they smear the nose and cheeks; and blood-stained countenances meet
-the astonished stranger’s gaze. The baby leaves its mother’s breast to
-share in the meal, and after he has swallowed a piece of liver, and
-reddened face, hands, and whatever else he can reach, he crows with
-joy as his careful mother breaks a marrow-bone and gives it to him to
-suck. The dogs sit in a circle behind the feasting company, ready to
-snap up the bones which are thrown to them. One after another rises
-satisfied from the meal, wipes his blood-stained hands on the moss,
-cleans his knife in the same way, and retires into the tshum to rest.
-But the housewife fills the cooking-kettle with water, puts into it as
-much of the flesh of the half-eaten animal as it will hold, and lights
-the fire to prepare the evening meal.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 64.--Interior of an Ostiak Dwelling (Tshum).]
-
-Meantime the herdsman has thrown off his upper garment and looked
-through it hastily, yet not without result, and he has drawn near
-the fire so that the flames may play with full effect on the naked
-upper portion of his body. He feels comfortable, and begins to think
-of another enjoyment. A wonderful man who is travelling towards the
-mountains in his company, a German, perhaps even a member of the Bremen
-exploring expedition to West Siberia, has not only presented him with
-tobacco--horrible stuff, it is true, yet at any rate strong--but he has
-also given him a great sheet of paper, a whole _Kölnische Zeitung_.
-From this he carefully tears off a small square piece, twists it to
-a pointed cornet, fills this with tobacco, bends it in the middle,
-and the pipe is ready. A moment later it is alight, and it smells so
-pleasant that the wife distends her nostrils, and begs to share the
-enjoyment. Her wish is at once granted, and the little pipe wanders
-round so that every member of the family may enjoy it in turn.
-
-But the contents of the pot begin to bubble, the supper is ready,
-and all “raise their hands to the daintily prepared meal”. Then the
-herdsman stands outside the door and utters a far-sounding call of
-long-drawn notes, to collect the restless herd once more. This done, he
-returns content into the tshum. Here his wife has spread the mosquito
-tent and is still busy stuffing its lower edge under the coverlets.
-While waiting for this work to be finished the man on his couch amuses
-himself by seizing one of the dogs and nursing it like a baby, the
-dog enduring it patiently in the consciousness that it is a high
-honour. Then the man creeps half-naked under the mosquito net, his
-fifteen-year-old son follows his example, the little thirteen-year-old
-wife of the latter does the same, the anxious mother sees to the safety
-of the little one in the cradle, the nursling already mentioned, lays
-more decayed wood on the smoky fire at the entrance to the tshum, shuts
-the door, and lies down like the rest. A few minutes later loud snoring
-announces that all are sleeping the sleep of the just.
-
-The next morning the same daily round begins again, and so it goes on
-until the mountain heights permit of a longer sojourn in one place. The
-snow, which falls very early, warns them to return even in August, and
-again, this time more slowly and leisurely, herdsmen and herds journey
-back to the low grounds.
-
-With the disappearance of the ice the activity of the fishermen on the
-river begins. Many of the Ostiak fishermen work in the pay of, or at
-least in partnership with the Russians, others only sell to them the
-superfluous portion of their catch, and fish on their own account.
-Immediately after the ice has broken up, the former class pitch their
-tshums beside the fisher huts of the Russians, and the others settle
-by the river banks in their summer dwellings--log-huts of the simplest
-construction. Where a tributary flows into the river, they raise across
-it, or across the mouth of an arm of the stream, a barricade which
-leaves only one channel, and in the deep water they place baskets and
-set bottom-lines; beyond that they use only drag- and seine-nets.
-
-Bustling activity prevails about all the fishing-stations when the
-catch is good. On a shaky stand above the opening in the barricade the
-young men, more boys than men, are crouching, peering keenly into the
-dark flood beneath them to see whether the fish are going into the
-draw-net which they are holding so as to close the channel. From time
-to time they lift their burdened net, and empty its contents into their
-little boat. The men fish together on a sand-bank with the drag-net, or
-in shallower parts of the river with the seine. In the afternoon, or
-towards evening the fishermen return home, and the fish are distributed
-among the different households. Next morning the women’s work begins.
-Singly, or in groups, they sit beside a great fish heap, each provided
-with a board and a sharp knife, and scale, gut, split, and crimp the
-fish, afterwards stringing them on long thin sticks, which are hung up
-on the drying-stands to dry. With dexterous and certain strokes the
-abdominal cavity is opened and the side muscles separated from the
-backbone, a few touches more separate the liver and other viscera from
-the head, ribs, and more valuable side portions of the body. Liver
-after liver slips between the smacking lips; for the women have not yet
-broken their fast and they take the titbits as a preliminary snack. If
-they are still unsatisfied, a fish is scaled, gutted, and cut in long
-strips, the end of one of these is dipped into the trickling blood and,
-thus seasoned, is put into the mouth, divided into suitable mouthfuls
-with quick knife-strokes which seem to pass perilously near the point
-of the eater’s nose. The children playing about their busy mothers
-receive pieces of liver or strips of muscle according to their size;
-four-year-olds use the knife to cut the pieces almost as cleverly as
-their elders, who invariably divide their fish or strips of reindeer
-flesh in this manner. Soon the faces of mothers and children shine
-with fish blood and liver oil, and the hands glisten with adhering
-fish-scales. When all the fishes are scaled, split, and hung up to dry,
-the dogs which have been sitting, covetous but not importunate, beside
-the women, receive their portion also--the scales and debris, which are
-thrown into a heap amid which the black muzzles burrow eagerly.
-
-The morning work is over, and a short period of rest has been earned.
-The mothers take their children on their laps, suckle the nurslings,
-and then proceed to a work which is absolutely necessary, not only to
-the little ones’ comfort but to their own--the hunt for parasites. One
-child after another lays its head in its mother’s lap, and finally
-she lays her own in that of her eldest daughter or of a friend who
-hopes for a similar service, and the hunt proves productive. That the
-booty secured is put between the lips, and if not actually eaten, at
-least bitten to death, is nothing new to a naturalist who has observed
-monkeys, and it confirms those who see more than a mere hypothesis in
-Darwin’s doctrine, or in the belief that men may exhibit atavism, or a
-reversion to the habits of a remote ancestor.
-
-The sun is sinking, the men, youths, and boys come back with a new
-and rich harvest. They have eaten raw fish as they required, but now
-their souls long for warm food. A great steaming kettle of cooked fish,
-delicious salmonoids (genus Coregonus), the nearest relative of the
-salmon, is set before them; its accompaniment is bread dipped in and
-thoroughly saturated with fish fat. Brick-tea,[84] put on the fire with
-cold water and boiled for a long time, brings the meal to an end.
-“But when the desire for food and drink is appeased” the spirit also
-longs for satisfaction, and the musician with harp or zither of his own
-manufacture is eagerly welcomed, whether to play one of their strange,
-old, indescribable melodies, or an accompaniment to the quaint dance of
-the women, in which they raise themselves and sink again, throw one arm
-round the other, stretch both out, and drop them to their sides. These
-amusements last until the mosquito-curtain is prepared, then here, too,
-old and young disappear beneath its folds.
-
-The summer is past, and winter follows the short autumn. A new activity
-comes into play with the migration of the birds; a new, indeed the
-full, true life of the Ostiaks begins with winter. For the departing
-summer guests the treacherous net is spread. Gaps are cut in the dense
-willow growth of the banks on the direct course between two large
-sheets of water, and in each space is spread a thin, easily-moved limed
-net, into which fly not only ducks, but geese, swans, and cranes. These
-are welcome booty, both on account of flesh and feathers, for birds
-of all kinds form a considerable portion of the food not only of the
-Ostiaks but of all the dwellers in the river-basin. At the time when
-the bird-catcher begins his work the nomad herdsman sets out on the
-chase, and sets his fall-traps in the tundra for the red and Arctic
-foxes, or in the forest, in company with his more settled relatives,
-he sets snares, spring-bows, and self-acting cross-bows for wolves
-and foxes, sables and ermines, gluttons and squirrels. If snow has
-fallen, the experienced huntsman buckles on his snow-shoes, puts on his
-snow-spectacles, and betakes himself with his fleet dog to the tundra
-or the forest to seek out the bear in his den, to follow the track of
-the lynx, to chase the elk and the wild reindeer, now impeded by the
-snow, which will not bear their weight though it bears the huntsman’s.
-He has never lied, never sworn falsely by the bear’s tooth, never done
-a wrong, and the bear is therefore powerless against him, the elk and
-the reindeer are not fleet enough to escape him! When a bear has been
-shot he returns triumphantly to the village, neighbours and friends
-gather round him in the tshum, rejoicing, and as the general jubilation
-infects him, he slips quietly away, disguises himself, puts on a
-mask, and begins the bear-dance, executing wonderful movements, which
-are meant to mimic and illustrate those of the bear in all the varied
-circumstances of his life.
-
-The huts of the fisher-folk soon contain a rich treasure of skins,
-the tshum of the herdsman a still richer, for he has stored up the
-skins of all the reindeer slaughtered throughout the year. Now it is
-time to get rid of them. Everyone, far and near, prepares for the fair
-which is held every year, in the second half of January, in Obdorsk,
-the last Russian village, and the most important trading centre on
-the lower Obi. The fair is attended by natives and strangers, and
-during its progress the Russian government officials collect taxes
-from the Ostiaks and Samoyedes, settle disputes, and deal out justice
-generally; the Russian merchants are on the outlook for buyers and
-sellers, the dishonest ones among them, and the swindling Syryani, for
-thoughtless drunkards, and the clergy for heathen to be converted.
-Among the Ostiaks and Samoyedes all sorts of agreements are made,
-weddings arranged, enemies reconciled, friends gained, compacts with
-the Russians formed, debts paid and new ones contracted. From all
-sides appear long trains of sledges drawn by reindeer, and one tshum
-after another grows up beside the market-place, each tshum surrounded
-by heavily-laden sledges containing the saleable acquisitions of the
-year. Every morning the owner, with his favourite wife in gala attire,
-proceeds to the booths to sell his skins and buy other commodities.
-They bargain, haggle, and attempt to cheat, and Mercury, as powerful
-as of yore, shows his might not only as the god of merchants but
-of thieves. Alcohol, though its retail sale is forbidden by the
-government, is to be had not only at every merchant’s, but in
-almost every house in Obdorsk, and it blunts the senses and dulls
-the intelligence of Ostiak and Samoyede, and impoverishes them even
-more than the much-dreaded reindeer plague. Brandy rouses all the
-passions in the ordinarily calm, good-tempered, inoffensive Ostiak,
-and transforms the peaceable, friendly, honest fellows into raging,
-senseless animals. Man and wife alike long for brandy; the father
-pours it down his boy’s throat, the mother forces it on her daughter,
-should they begin by rebelling against the destructive poison. For
-brandy the Ostiak squanders his laboriously-gained treasures, his
-whole possessions; for it he binds himself as a slave, or at least
-as a servant; for it he sells his soul, and denies the faith of his
-fathers. Brandy is an indispensable accompaniment to the conclusion
-of every business, even to conversion to the orthodox church. With
-the help of brandy a dishonest merchant can get possession of all an
-Ostiak’s skins, and without these, with empty purse and confused head,
-the man who arrived in Obdorsk full of hope and pride, returns to his
-tshum cheated, not to say plundered. He repents his folly and weakness,
-makes the best of resolutions, becomes tranquil in doing so, and soon
-remembers nothing except that he enjoyed himself excellently with his
-fellow tribesmen. First they had drunk together; then men and women had
-kissed each other, then the men had beaten their wives, had tried their
-strength on each other, had even drawn their sharp knives, and, with
-flashing eyes, had threatened each other with death; but no blood had
-been shed; there had been a reconciliation; the women who had fallen on
-the ground, stupefied with blows and brandy, were lifted up tenderly,
-and were tended by other women; to celebrate the reconciliation an
-important compact had been made, a bridegroom was sought for the
-daughter, a little bride for the son; even a widow had been married,
-and they drank again to the occasion; in short, they had had a splendid
-time. That the government officials had shut up all those who were dead
-drunk, that all, all their money had gone the way of things perishable,
-had certainly been disagreeable, very disagreeable. However, the prison
-had opened again; after a time, the loss of the money had been got
-over, and only the golden recollection, over which they could gloat
-for a whole year, and the betrothal, so satisfactory to all parties,
-remained as permanent gain from the delightful festival.
-
-The bridegroom and bride had also been at the fair, had drunk with the
-rest, and thus made each other’s acquaintance, and the bridegroom had
-agreed with his parents to choose the maiden as his wife, or rather
-had agreed to receive her. For it is the parents’ decision, not the
-consent of the couple themselves, that concludes a marriage among
-the Ostiaks. They may perhaps have some regard for the bridegroom’s
-wishes, may allow him to cast his affections on one or other of the
-daughters of his people, but they only send an agent to treat with
-the girl’s father if their own circumstances correspond with his. The
-maiden herself is not consulted, perhaps because, at the time of her
-betrothal, she is much too young to be able to decide upon her own
-future with discretion. Even the future husband has not reached his
-fifteenth year when the agent begins to treat for the twelve-year-old
-bride. In this case the general exhilaration of fair-time had
-considerably hastened the course of proceedings. The matrimonial
-agent had gained an immediate consent; the negotiations, often very
-protracted, had been at once begun, and thanks to brandy, which
-usually proves an evil demon, but in this case expedited matters, they
-were brought to a speedy conclusion. It had been agreed that Sandor,
-the young bridegroom, should pay for his little bride, Malla, sixty
-reindeer, twenty skins of the white and ten of the red fox, a piece
-of coloured cloth, and various trifles such as rings, buttons, glass
-beads, head-dresses, and the like. That was little, much less than the
-district governor, Mamru, who was scarcely better off, had to give for
-his wife; for his payment consisted of a hundred and fifty reindeer,
-sixty skins of the Arctic and twenty of the red fox, a large piece of
-stuff for clothes, several head-dresses, and the customary trifles. But
-times were better then, and Mamru might well pay what was equivalent
-to more than a thousand silver roubles for his wife, who was stately,
-rich, and of good family.
-
-The amount agreed on is paid; the nuptials of the young couple are
-celebrated. The relatives of the bride’s family come to her father’s
-tent to bring presents and to receive others from the bridegroom’s
-gift, which is laid out for everyone to see. The bride is arrayed in
-festive garments, and she and her friends prepare for the drive to the
-tshum of the bridegroom or of his father. Beforehand they have eaten
-abundantly of the flesh of a reindeer, fresh killed, according to
-custom. Only a few fish caught under the ice have been cooked to-day;
-the flesh of the reindeer was eaten raw, and when one began to grow
-cold a second was slaughtered. The bride weeps, as becomes departing
-brides, and refuses to leave the tshum in which she was brought up, but
-she is consoled and coaxed by all, and at last she is ready. A prayer
-before the domestic idol solicits the blessing of the heavenly Ohrt,
-whose sign, the divine fire Sornidud--in our eyes only the flaming
-northern light--had shone blood-red in the sky the evening before. The
-daughter is accompanied by her mother, who keeps close by her side, and
-even remains near her during the night. Mother and daughter mount one
-sledge, the rest of the invited kinsfolk mount theirs, and, in festive
-pomp, to the sound of the bells which all the reindeer wear on their
-harness, the wedding procession sets forth.
-
-In his father’s tent the bridegroom awaits the bride, who modestly
-veils her face with her head-dress in the presence of her future father
-and brothers-in-law. This she continues to do after the marriage is
-consummated. A new banquet begins, and the guests, who have been joined
-by the bridegroom’s relatives, do not disperse till late at night. But
-the next day the mother brings the young wife back to her father’s
-tent. A day later all the bridegroom’s relatives appear to demand
-her back again for him. Once more the low hut is filled with festive
-sounds; then the bride leaves it for ever, and is again conducted with
-pomp to the tshum which she is thenceforward to share with her husband,
-or with him and his father and brothers and sisters, or later on with
-another wife.
-
-The sons of poor people pay at most ten reindeer for their brides;
-those of the fisher-folk only the most necessary furnishings of the
-tshum, and even these are often shared among several families; but
-their weddings, too, are made the occasion of a joyful festival, and
-there is as much banqueting as circumstances will allow.
-
-The poorer Ostiaks marry only one wife, but the rich look upon it as
-one of the rights of their position to have two or more. But the first
-wife always retains her privileges, and the others appear to be rather
-her servants than her equals. It is otherwise, however, if she should
-have no children; for childlessness is a disgrace to the man, and a
-childless wife in the tshum, as elsewhere, is much to be pitied.
-
-The parents are proud of their children, and treat them with great
-tenderness. It is with unmistakable happiness in look and gesture that
-the young mother lays her first-born in her bosom, or on the soft moss
-in the neat birch-bark cradle with its lining of mouldered willow-wood
-and shavings; carefully she fastens the cover to both sides of the
-cradle, and envelops the head-end of the little bed with the mosquito
-curtain; but her ideal of cleanliness leaves much to be desired. As
-long as the baby is small and helpless she washes and cleanses it
-when she thinks it absolutely necessary. But when it grows bigger she
-only washes its face and hands once a day, using a handful of fine
-willow fibres as sponge, and a dry handful as towel, and afterwards
-looks on quite complacently when the little creature, who finds many
-opportunities for soiling itself, goes about in a state of dirt, to us
-almost inconceivable. This state of things comes gradually to an end
-when the young Ostiak is able to take care of himself; but even then,
-hardly anyone considers it necessary to wash after every meal, even
-should it have left stains of blood. The children are as much attached,
-and as faithful to their parents as these are to them, and their
-obedience and submission is worthy of mention. To reverence parents is
-the first and chief commandment among the Ostiaks, to reverence their
-god is only the second. When we advised Mamru, the district governor
-already mentioned, to have his children taught the Russian language
-and writing, he replied that he saw the advantage of such knowledge,
-but feared that his children might forget the respect due to their
-father and mother, and thus break the most important commandment of
-their religion. This may be the reason why no Ostiak, who clings to
-the faith of his fathers, learns to do more than make his mark, a sort
-of scrawl binding on him and others, drawn upon paper, or cut in wood
-or reindeer-skin. Yet the Ostiak is capable and dexterous, able to
-learn whatever he is taught so quickly and easily that, at the early
-age at which he marries, he understands everything connected with the
-establishment and maintenance of his household. It is only in religious
-matters that he seems unwilling to trust to his own judgment, and
-on this account he, in most cases, shows unmerited respect for the
-shamans,[85] who profess to know more about religion than he does.
-
-For our part, we regard the shaman, who claims the status of a priest
-among the Ostiaks as among the other Mongolian peoples of Siberia,
-as nothing short of an impostor. The sole member of the precious
-brotherhood with whom we came in contact, a baptized Samoyede, bore the
-sign of Christianity on his breast; according to report he had even
-been a deacon in the orthodox church, and yet he did duty as a shaman
-among the heathen Ostiaks. I learned later, on good authority, that he
-was no exception to the general rule; for all the shamans met with by
-my informant, Herr von Middendorf, during years of travel in Siberia,
-were Christians. I have already mentioned in the report of my travels
-that the shaman whom we met took us also for believers; but I have
-reserved my account of his performances and prophecies for to-day, as
-this description seems to me a fitting frame for such a picture.
-
-To begin with, he demanded brandy as a fee, but was satisfied with the
-promise of a gift, and retired into a tent, saying that he would let
-us know when his preparations were finished. Among these preparations,
-apparently, was the muffled beating of a drum which we heard after a
-considerable time; of other arrangements we discovered nothing. On a
-given signal we entered the tshum.
-
-The whole space within the birch-bark hut was filled with people, who
-sat round in a circle pressing closely against the walls. Among the
-Ostiaks and Samoyedes, who were there with wives and children, there
-were also Russians with their families. On a raised seat to the left
-of the entrance sat the shaman Vidli; at his right, crouching on the
-floor, was an Ostiak, the master’s disciple at the time. Vidli wore a
-brown upper garment, and over it a kind of robe, originally white, but
-soiled and shabbily trimmed with gold braid; in his left hand he held
-a little tambour-like drum, in such a way that it shaded his face; in
-his right hand was a drum-stick; his head was uncovered, his tonsured
-hair freshly oiled. In the middle of the tshum a fire was burning, and
-now and again it blazed up and shed bright light on the motley throng,
-in the midst of which we sat down in the places reserved for us. A
-thrice-repeated, long-drawn cry, like a song from many voices, preluded
-by beating of the drum, greeted our entrance, and marked the beginning
-of the proceedings.
-
-“That you may see that I am a man of truth,” said the master’s voice,
-“I shall now adjure the messenger of the heavenly will, who is at my
-behest, to appear among us and communicate to me what the gods have
-determined concerning your future. Later, you yourselves will be able
-to determine whether I have told you the truth or not.”
-
-After this introduction, which was translated to us by two
-interpreters, the favourite of the gods struck the calf-skin, or
-rather reindeer-skin of his drum, with quick strokes which followed
-one another at equal intervals, but were indefinitely grouped, and
-accompanied his drumming with a song which, in the usual Samoyede
-fashion, was half-spoken, or rather muttered, and half-sung, and was
-faithfully repeated by the youth, whom we may call the clerk. The
-master held the drum so as to keep his face in shadow, and he also shut
-his eyes that nothing might distract his inward vision; the clerk, on
-the other hand, smoked even while he sang, and spat from time to time,
-just as he had been doing before. Three slow, decided strokes brought
-the drumming and the song to an end.
-
-“I have now,” said the master with dignity, “adjured Yamaul, the
-heavenly messenger, to appear among us, but I cannot say how much time
-must pass before he arrives, for he may be far off.”
-
-And again he beat his drum and sang his incantation, concluding both
-song and accompaniment as before.
-
-“I see two emperors before me; they will send you a writing,” spoke the
-messenger of the gods through his lips.
-
-So Yamaul had been kind enough to appear in the tshum to oblige his
-favourite. Then the individual sentences of the heavenly message, with
-the invariable prelude of drumming and song, were uttered as follows:--
-
-“Once again, next summer, you will traverse the same route as this
-year.”
-
-“Then you will visit the summit of the Ural, where the rivers Ussa,
-Bodarata, and Shtchutshya begin their course.”
-
-“On this journey something will befall you, whether good or evil I
-cannot tell.”
-
-“Nothing is to be achieved at the Bodarata, for wood and pasture are
-lacking; here something might be accomplished.”
-
-“You will have to render an account to your superiors; they will
-examine you and will be satisfied.”
-
-“You will also have to answer to the three elders of your tribe; they
-also will examine your writings, and then come to a decision about the
-new journey.”
-
-“The course of your journey will henceforward be happy and without
-accident; and you will find your loved ones at home in the best of
-health.”
-
-“If the statements of the Russians who are still at Bodarata
-corroborate yours, two emperors will reward you.”
-
-“I see no other face.”
-
-The performance was at an end. On the Ural Mountains lay the last
-glow of midnight. Everyone left the tent, the faces of the Russians
-showing the same credulity as those of the Ostiaks and Samoyedes. But
-we invited the shaman to accompany us to our boat, loosened his tongue
-and that of his disciple with brandy, and plied him with all manner
-of cross-questions, some of them of the subtlest kind. He answered
-them all, without exception, without ever getting into a difficulty,
-without hesitation, without even reflection; he answered them full of
-conviction, and convincingly, clearly, definitely, tersely, and to
-the point, so that we recognized more clearly than before the extreme
-craftiness of the man with whom we had to deal.
-
-He described to us how, even in his boyhood, the spirit had come upon
-him and had tortured him till he became the disciple of a shaman; how
-he had become more and more intimate with Yamaul, the messenger of the
-gods, who appears to him as a friendly man, riding on a swift horse,
-and carrying a staff in his hand; how Yamaul hastened to his help, and
-even, if need were, called down aid from heaven when he, the shaman,
-was struggling with evil spirits often for several days at a time; how
-the messenger of the gods must always communicate the message to him
-just as he received it, for that otherwise he felt every drum-beat as
-a painful stroke; how Yamaul, even to-day, though visible to him only,
-sat behind him in the tshum and whispered the words in his ear. He
-also informed us that, by his own art, or by the grace bestowed upon
-him, which even his conversion to Christianity could not weaken, he
-could reveal what was hidden, find what was stolen, recognize diseases,
-prophesy the death or recovery of the sick, see and banish the ghosts
-of the dead, work much evil, and prevent much evil, but that he did
-nothing but good, because he feared the gods; he gave us a clear and
-detailed, if not quite correct picture of the religion of the Ostiaks
-and Samoyedes; he assured us that all his people, as well as the
-Ostiaks, came to him in their troubles to ask advice, or to have the
-future unveiled, and that they did not doubt, but trusted in him and
-believed him.
-
-The last statement is not correct. The great mass of the people may
-regard the shaman as a wise man, perhaps even as an intermediary
-between men and the gods, and possibly as the possessor of mysterious
-power; but many believe his words and works as little as other races
-do those of their priests. The real faith of the people is simpler and
-more child-like than the shaman approves of. It is here as elsewhere;
-the priest, or whoever acts as such, peoples heaven with gods, and
-councillors and servants of the gods, but the people know nothing of
-this celestial court.
-
-According to the belief of the people there is enthroned in heaven
-Ohrt, whose name signifies “the end of the world”. He is an
-all-powerful spirit, who rules over everything but Death, and he is
-benevolently inclined towards men. He is the giver of all good, the
-bestower of reindeer, fish, and furred animals, the preventer of evil,
-and the avenger of lies, severe only when promises made to him are
-not fulfilled. Feasts are held in his honour, sacrifices and prayers
-are offered to him; the suppliant who prostrates himself before a
-sacred symbol thinks of him. The symbol, called a _longch_, may be of
-carved wood, a bundle of cloth, a stone, a skin, or anything else: it
-possesses no powers, affords no protection, it is in no sense a fetish!
-People assemble before a _longch_, place it in front of the tshum, lay
-dishes of fish, reindeer flesh, or other offering before it, place
-valuables before it, or even pack them inside it; but they always look
-up to heaven, and both their offerings and their prayers are intended
-for their god. Evil spirits dwell in heaven as on earth; but Ohrt is
-more powerful than they all; only Death is mightier than he. There is
-no everlasting life after death, and no resurrection; but the dead
-still wander as ghosts over the face of the earth, and have still power
-to do good or evil.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 65.--The Burial of an Ostiak.]
-
-When an Ostiak dies his spirit-life begins at once; so his friends
-proceed immediately to arrange for his burial. They had all assembled
-before his death, and as soon as life is extinct they kindle a fire in
-the tshum in which the body lies, and keep it burning until they set
-out for the burial-place. A shaman is called to ask the dead where he
-wishes to lie. This is done by naming a place, and attempting to raise
-the head of the corpse. If the dead man approves he lets his head be
-raised; if he does not, three men cannot move it. Then the question
-must be repeated until the man gives his consent. Skilled persons are
-despatched to the chosen spot to prepare the grave, for this work often
-requires several days.
-
-The burial-places are always in the tundra, on elevated spots, usually
-on a long ridge; the coffins are more or less artistically wrought
-chests, which are placed above the ground. Failing solid planks to
-construct the coffin, a boat is cut up and the corpse is laid in that;
-only the very poor people dig in the ground a shallow hollow in which
-to bury their dead.
-
-The corpse is not washed, but is arrayed in festive garments, the
-hair anointed, and the face covered with a cloth. All the rest of the
-deceased’s clothing is given to the poor. The Ostiaks never touch the
-dead body of a stranger with their hands, but they do not hesitate to
-touch a loved relative, and even to kiss his cold face with tears in
-their eyes. The corpse is brought to the burial-place on a sledge,
-or in a boat, and is accompanied by all the relatives and friends. A
-reindeer-skin, on which the dead is to rest, is laid in the chest or
-coffin. At the head and sides are placed tobacco, pipes, and all manner
-of implements which the dead man was wont to use in his lifetime. Then
-the corpse is lifted with cords, carried to the chest, and laid on
-the bed thus prepared; the face is covered for the last time, a piece
-of birch-bark is spread over the open top of the chest, which, if the
-family be a rich one, is perhaps first covered with costly skins and
-cloths, the lid of the chest is put on above the sheet of bark, or at
-least heavy branches are laid close together upon it. Around and under
-the chest are laid such implements as could not be placed within it,
-but they are first broken up and thus rendered useless for the living,
-or, according to Ostiak ideas, made the ghosts of what they were.
-
-Meanwhile, a fire has been kindled in the neighbourhood of the grave,
-and one or more reindeer slaughtered, and now the flesh is eaten, raw
-or cooked, by the funeral company. After the meal, the skulls of the
-slaughtered reindeer are fixed upon a pole, their harness is hung on
-the pole or on a tree, the bells they have worn on this, as on all
-solemn occasions, are hung on the top of the coffin itself, the sledge
-is broken to pieces and thrown beside the grave as its last ornament.
-Then the company travels homewards. Mourning is now silenced, and the
-daily round of life begins again.
-
-But in the shades of night the ghost of the dead, equipped with his
-ghostly tools, begins his mysterious spirit-life. What he did while he
-walked among the living, he continues to do. Invisible to all he leads
-his reindeer to pasture, guides his boat through the waves, buckles
-on his snow-shoes, draws his bow, spreads his net, shoots the ghosts
-of former game, catches the ghosts of former fishes. During night he
-visits the tshum of his wife and children, causing them joy or sorrow.
-His reward is to be able to show beneficence to his own flesh and
-blood; his punishment, to be obliged continually to do them injury.
-
-Such in outline is the religion of the Ostiaks, whom the Greek
-Catholics despise as heathen. But a just estimate of these honest
-people, with their child-like nature, inclines us rather to wish that
-they may ever remain heathen, or at least may never be other than they
-are.
-
-
-
-
-THE NOMAD HERDSMEN AND HERDS OF THE STEPPES.
-
-
-Though the steppe of Central Asia is really rich, and may even seem gay
-to one who visits it in spring, and though it contains much fruitful
-land, it is nevertheless only its most favoured portions which admit of
-a settled life, of a continued residence on any one particular spot.
-Constant wandering, coming and going, appearing and disappearing,
-is the lot of all the children of the steppe, men and animals alike.
-Certain portions submit to the labours of the husbandman; in others,
-towns and villages may be established, but the steppe as a whole must
-for ever remain the possession of the nomadic herdsman, who knows how
-to adapt himself to all its conditions of life.
-
-Among these nomadic herdsmen the Kirghiz take the first rank, by virtue
-both of numbers and of civilization. Their domain extends from the Don
-and the Volga to the mountains of Thianshan, and from the middle Irtish
-to south of the Balkhash Lake, indeed, almost to Khiva and Bokhara;
-they are divided into tribes and hordes, into steppe and mountain
-herdsmen, but they are one in descent, in language and religion, in
-manners and customs, however much the various tribes may appear to
-differ. The smallest or youngest horde wanders throughout the steppe
-of Orenburg; a branch of the same, calling itself the Buka tribe,
-traverses the steppe between the Volga and Ural rivers, especially in
-the governments of Turgai and Ural; the middle or elder horde inhabits
-the steppes and mountains of the Irtish and Balkhash regions; and
-finally, extending from beyond the river Ili towards Khiva and Bokhara
-are to be found the ever-changing dwelling-places of the mountain
-Kirghiz, who describe themselves as the great, or eldest horde. No
-branch of these people applies the name Kirgis or Kirghiz to itself,
-for that is a term of infamy equivalent to “freebooters”. The proper
-designation of our people is Kaisak, Kasak, or, as we should read it,
-Cossack, although even the Russians apply the name Cossack to a people
-quite distinct from the inhabitants of the steppe.
-
-The Kirghiz, as I shall call them nevertheless, are a Turkish people,
-about whose racial affinities different opinions are held. Many, if
-not most, travellers look upon them as true Mongolians, while others
-regard them, probably more correctly, as a mixed race, suggestive of
-the Mongolians in some particulars, but, on the whole, exhibiting
-the characteristics of Indo-Germans, and especially resembling the
-Turkomans. All the Kirghiz I saw belonged to the middle horde, and
-were well-built people, small, or of medium height, with faces, not
-beautiful indeed, but not of the caricature-like Mongolian type,
-neat hands and feet, clear or transparent light-brown or yellowish
-complexions, brown eyes, and black hair. The cheek-bones are seldom
-so prominent, or the chin so pointed, as to give an angular or
-cat-faced appearance; the eye, of medium size, is usually most arched
-centrally, and drawn out horizontally at the outer angle; it is thus
-almond-shaped, but not obliquely set; the nose is usually straight,
-more rarely hooked; the mouth moderate in size and sharply cut, the
-beard thin, without being actually scanty. True Mongolian features are
-certainly to be met with also, more especially among the women and
-children of the poorer class; but, though I have seen very few really
-beautiful Kirghiz women, I have met with quite as few of the grotesque
-faces so common among other undoubted Mongols. The characteristics are
-unmistakably more suggestive of a mixed race than of any one sharply
-defined stock. I have seen men whom I should unhesitatingly have
-pronounced to belong to the nobler Indo-Germans if I had known nothing
-of their kinship, and I have become acquainted with others about the
-Mongolian cut of whose faces there could be no possible doubt. The
-members of the older families usually possess all the essential marks
-of the Indo-Germans, while men of lower descent and meaner extraction
-often remind one of the Mongols in many details, and may sometimes
-resemble them completely. The power of Islam, which permits to slaves
-who have become converts all the rights of the tribe, may in the course
-of time have made Kirghiz out of many heathen Mongols, and thus not
-only have influenced, but actually destroyed the racial characteristics
-of the Kirghiz.
-
-Although the chief features of the Kirghiz dress are Turkish, it is, as
-a whole, by no means suited for displaying their figure to advantage.
-In winter the fur cap, fur coat, and thick-legged boots hide all the
-details of the figure, and even in summer these do not come into
-prominence. The poorer Kirghiz, in addition to his fur coat and the
-inevitable fur cap, wears a shirt, kaftan, and wide trousers; the
-higher class rich man, on the other hand, wears a great many articles
-of dress one above the other, like the Oriental; but he stuffs all
-those which envelop the lower part of his body, with the exception of
-his fur coat, into his wide trousers, so that he may not be impeded in
-riding. Consequently, the more richly attired he is the more grotesque
-he looks. They prefer dark colours to light or bright ones, though
-they do not despise these, and they are fond of decorations of gay
-embroideries or braiding. Nearly every Kirghiz wears at his girdle a
-dainty little pocket, richly decorated with iron or silver mountings,
-and a similarly ornamented knife; beyond these, and the indispensable
-signet-ring, he wears no decoration unless the Emperor has bestowed one
-upon him, in the shape of a commemorative medal.
-
-Of the dress of the women I can say little, first, because modesty
-forbade me to ask about more than I could see, and secondly, because
-I did not see the women of the upper class at all, and never saw the
-others in their gala attire. In addition to the fur coat, boots and
-shoes, which are exactly like those of the men, the women wear trousers
-which differ very slightly, a shift, and over it a robe-like upper
-garment, falling below the knee and clasped in the middle; on the head
-they wear either a cloth wound in turban-fashion, or a nun-like hood
-which covers head, neck, shoulders, and breast.
-
-The clothing of both sexes is coarse, except the riding-boots and
-shoes, which are always well made. Very characteristic, and obviously
-adapted to the climatic conditions, are the extraordinarily long
-sleeves which both men and women wear on their upper garment; these
-fall far beyond the hands, and cover them almost completely.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 66.--The Home of a Wealthy Kirghiz.]
-
-The roving life to which the Kirghiz are compelled by the necessity
-of finding sufficient pasturage for their numerous herds, involves a
-style of dwelling which is easily constructed, can be taken down at
-one spot and erected again at another without special difficulty, and
-which must yet afford a sufficient protection against the hardness
-and inclemency of the climate. These requirements are fulfilled more
-thoroughly by the _yurt_ than by any other movable dwelling, and it
-is not too much to say that this is the most perfect of all tents.
-Thousands of years of experience has made the _yurt_ what it is--a
-home for the nomadic herdsman, or any other wanderer,--which, in its
-own way, cannot be surpassed. Light and easily moved, readily closed
-against storms, or thrown open to admit air and sunshine, comfortable
-and commodious, simple, yet admitting of rich decoration without
-and within, it unites in itself so many excellent qualities that
-one appreciates it ever more highly as time goes on, and finds it
-more and more habitable the longer one lives in it. It consists of a
-movable lattice-work which can be extended or contracted, and which
-forms the lower upright circular walls of the framework, a coupling
-ring which forms the arch at the top, spars inserted into both these,
-and a door in the lattice-work; light mats of tschi-grass, and large
-wads or sheets of felt, cut to shape, and most ingeniously laid on,
-compose the outer covering of the whole framework, and thick carpets
-of felt cover the floor. With the exception of the door-frames, which
-are mortised together, and of the spars, the upper ends of which are
-inserted into holes in the coupling-ring, the whole structure is held
-together simply by means of cords and bands; and it is thus easily
-taken to pieces, while its form--circular in cross section, and
-cupola-like longitudinally--renders it capable of great resistance to
-violent storms and bad weather of all sorts. The work of putting it up
-scarcely requires more than half an hour, that of taking it down even
-less; the strength of a single camel conveys it from place to place,
-but its construction and decoration take up much of the time and all
-the ingenuity of the housewife, to whose share falls the chief work of
-making it, and the whole labour of setting it up.
-
-The yurt forms an important part of the movable property of a
-Kirghiz. A rich man owns six or eight, but he spends money rather on
-the decoration of a few than on the construction of many, for he is
-assessed and taxed not according to the size of his herds but the
-number of his yurts. The high-class Kirghiz certainly shows his wealth
-through his yurt, by fitting it up as richly as possible, making it out
-of the most valuable felt, and decorating it without and within with
-coloured pieces of cloth; but he sets store rather by the possession
-of costly rugs, and beautifully sewn and embroidered silken coverlets,
-with which he decorates the interior of the living-room on festive
-occasions. Such rugs are handed down from father to son, and the
-possession of them ranks scarcely below that of uncoined silver.
-
-The real wealth of the nomadic herdsman cannot, however, be estimated
-by such secondary things; it must be calculated by his herds. Even the
-poorest owner of a yurt must possess numerous beasts to enable him
-to live, or survive in the struggle for existence; for the herds he
-tends form the one indispensable condition of life; they alone stand
-between him and ruin. The rich man’s herds may number thousands upon
-thousands, those of the poor man at least hundreds; but the richest may
-become poor, if disease breaks out among his herds, and the poor man
-may starve if death visits his beasts. Wide-spreading murrain reduces
-whole tribes to destitution, causes thousands of human beings literally
-to die of starvation. Little wonder, then, that every thought and
-aspiration of the Kirghiz is bound up with his herds, that his manners
-and customs correspond to this intimate connection between man and
-beast, that the man is, in short, dependent on the animal.
-
-Not the most useful, but the noblest and the most highly prized of all
-the domesticated animals of the Kirghiz is the horse, which in the eyes
-of its owner represents the sum and essence of domestication, and the
-climax of all beauty; it is a standard by which to reckon, according to
-which wealth or poverty is determined. He does not call it a horse, but
-simply the domestic animal; instead of the words “left and right” he
-uses the expressions, “the side on which one mounts a horse”, and “the
-side on which one carries the knout”. The horse is the pride of youth
-and maiden, of man and woman, whether young or old; to praise or find
-fault with a horse is to praise or blame its rider, a blow given to a
-horse one is not riding is aimed not at the horse but at its owner.
-
-A large number of the Kirghiz songs refer to the horse; it is used as
-a standard of comparison to give an estimate of the worth of men and
-women, or to describe human beauty.
-
-  “Little bride, little bride,
-  Dear foal of the dark brood-mare!”
-
-the singer calls to the bride who is being led into the bridegroom’s
-yurt;
-
-  “Say where is the play of the white locks
-  And where the play of the foals,
-  For kind as is the new father,
-  He is not the old father to me,”
-
-the bride answers to the youths who sing the “Jarjar”, the song of
-consolation to the departing bride, referring by the words “Foal-play”
-to the time of her first love.
-
-The wealth of a man is expressed in the number of horses he possesses;
-payment for a bride is made in the value of so many horses; the maiden
-who is offered as a prize to the winner in a race is held as being
-worth a hundred mares; horses are given as mutual presents; with
-horses atonement is made for assassination or murder, limbs broken in
-a struggle, an eye knocked out, or for any crime or misdemeanour; one
-hundred horses release from ban and outlawry the assassin or murderer
-of a man, fifty, of a woman, thirty, of a child. The fine imposed by
-the tribe for injuring any one’s person or property is paid in horses;
-for the sake of a horse even a respectable man becomes a thief. The
-horse carries the lover to his loved one, the bridegroom to the bride,
-the hero to battle, the saddle and clothing of the dead from one
-camping-place to another; the horse carries man and woman from yurt to
-yurt, the aged man as well as the child firmly bound to his saddle,
-or the youthful rider who sits for the first time free. The rich man
-estimates his herds as equivalent to so many horses; without a horse a
-Kirghiz is what a man without a home is among us; without a horse he
-deems himself the poorest under the sun.
-
-The Kirghiz has thoroughly studied the horse, he knows all its habits,
-its merits and defects, its virtues and vices, knows what benefits and
-what injures it; sometimes, indeed, he expects an incredible amount
-from it, but he never exacts it unless necessity compels him. He does
-not treat it with the affectionate care of the Arab, but neither does
-he ever show the want of consideration of many other peoples. One
-does not see anything of that careful and intelligent breeding of
-horses which is practised by Arabs and Persians, English and Germans,
-but he does constantly endeavour to secure the improvement of his
-favourite breeds by only placing the best stallions with the mares, and
-castrating the rest. Unfortunately his choice of breeding-horses is
-determined solely by form, and does not take colour into consideration
-at all, the consequence being that many of his horses are exceedingly
-ugly, because their colouring is so irregular and unequal. The training
-of the horse leaves much to be desired; our wandering herdsman is much
-too rich in horses for this to be otherwise.
-
-We found the Kirghiz horse a pleasant and good-natured creature,
-although it by no means fulfilled our ideal of beauty in all respects.
-It is of medium size and slender build, with a head not ugly though
-rather large, decidedly ram-nosed, and noticeably thickened by the
-prominent lower jaw-bones, a moderately long and powerful neck, a long
-body, fine limbs, and soft hair. Its eyes are large and fiery, its ears
-somewhat large, but well-shaped. Mane and tail have fine, long hair,
-always abundant, the hair of the tail growing so luxuriantly that it
-sweeps the ground; the legs are well formed, but rather slim, the hoofs
-are upright, but often rather too high. Light colours prevail and very
-ugly piebalds often offend the eye. The commonest colours are brown,
-light-brown, fox-coloured, dun, and bay, more rare are dark-brown and
-black, and one only occasionally sees a gray. The mane and tail greatly
-increase the beauty of all the light-coloured horses, because they are
-either black or much lighter than the body hairs.
-
-The temper of the animal is worthy of all praise. The Kirghiz horse
-is fiery, yet extremely good-natured, courageous in the presence of
-all known dangers, and only nervous, skittish, and timid when it is
-bewildered for a moment by something unusual; it is spirited and eager
-in its work, obedient, docile, willing, energetic, and very enduring,
-but it is chiefly valuable for riding, and requires long breaking-in to
-make it of use as a draught animal, in which capacity it is much less
-valuable than as a riding-horse.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 67.--Life among the Kirghiz--the Return from the
-Chase.]
-
-It has a particularly disagreeable habit, for which the Kirghiz is
-certainly more to blame than the animal, of constantly eating or at
-least nibbling on the way; it even attempts to satisfy its appetite in
-the most difficult situations, as in wading through rocky mountain
-torrents or climbing steep precipices. It is as insatiable as all other
-domesticated animals accustomed to roam freely over the steppe, but
-in its association with others of its species, except in the breeding
-season, it is as peaceable as it is obedient and submissive to its
-master.
-
-The poorer Kirghiz possess only horses enough to provide a mount for
-each member of the family, and to ensure the continuance of their
-stock. The richer dwellers on the steppe, on the other hand, have
-four or five, indeed I have often been assured as many as ten or
-twelve thousand head, which feed in separate herds, and at different
-places, and therefore, naturally enough, thrive better than those
-of their poorer brethren. Each herd consists of at least fifteen,
-or at most fifty individuals; in the latter case it comprises one
-fully-grown stallion, nine brood-mares, and as many young foals,
-eight two-year-olds, six or eight three-year-olds, and five or six
-four-year-olds, besides some older animals or geldings. The stallion
-is absolute lord and master, guide, leader, and protector of the herd,
-and he never lets himself be deprived of a single foal by the wolf, but
-attacks that cowardly robber boldly and successfully, striking him to
-the ground with his hoofs if he shows fight. But he will not tolerate
-a rival, and drives out all other stallions from the herd as soon as
-they come to maturity; when he enters on his leadership he drives away
-his own mother, and later his own daughters. This proud wilfulness
-necessitates the greatest watchfulness on the part of the herdsman
-during the pairing time, lest he lose the expelled mares which are
-seeking a new sultan, or the stallions which are striving for their
-own independence. The young mare reaches maturity in her fifth year,
-and the following spring, usually in March, she brings forth her first
-foal. She is not at once separated from the rest of the herd, but in
-May she and her foal are brought into the neighbourhood of the yurt,
-and for four months she is regularly milked to provide the famous
-koumiss or milk-wine. In autumn, mother and young are allowed to rejoin
-the herd. Both are received without hesitation, and they enjoy their
-newly-recovered freedom to the full.
-
-Apart from the horse, the most useful, and therefore the most
-important domestic animal of our nomadic herdsman, is the sheep. This
-animal is very large and well-built, but very much disfigured by the
-protuberances of fat on the rump. The massive body rests upon long
-but powerful legs; the head is small, the nose narrow and blunt, the
-ears pendulous or erect, the horns weak, the skin hard but thick,
-the udder very much developed, the fat rump often so enormous that
-the creature can no longer carry it, but bending its knees lets it
-drag on the ground, unless the herdsman comes to its aid by fixing a
-little two-wheeled cart under the tail, and placing the burdensome
-appendage on that. When the Kirghiz rams are crossed with sheep without
-this protuberance, their descendants acquire the singular appendage
-in two or three generations, while if smooth-tailed rams be paired
-continuously with fat-rumped sheep the reverse takes place.
-
-Though the character of the Kirghiz sheep resembles that of our sheep
-in all important respects, it cannot be disputed that the free life
-on the steppes, the long journeys which have to be made, and the
-difficulties which have to be surmounted in the course of these have
-developed its physical and mental capacities to an incomparably higher
-degree than is attained by our domestic sheep. Nevertheless, even in
-the steppe the clever goat acts as leader and guide to the relatively
-stupid sheep, and it is therefore only right that I should describe the
-goat next.
-
-The Kirghiz goat is of medium size, massive and well-built, the body
-powerful, the neck short, the head small, the limbs well-proportioned,
-the eye large and bright, the glance full of expression, the erect
-ear pointed, the horns comparatively weak, and either directed
-backwards and outwards or half turned on their axes, the hair abundant,
-especially on beard and tail, that on the forehead being long and
-curled; the prevailing colouring is beautiful pure white with black
-markings.
-
-The Kirghiz always treat sheep and goats exactly alike, and they feed
-together in flocks. The poor Kirghiz of one aul make up a flock among
-them, the rich man, whose beasts are numbered by many thousands, has
-often several. The shepherd, usually a biggish boy, rides on an ox
-beside his flock, but he understands so well how to manage his steed
-and make it trot, that he can overtake the fleetest goat. Once as we
-were returning from a hunting expedition, we met a shepherd who, by
-way of amusement, rode along for quite a quarter of an hour beside our
-briskly-trotting horses, yet his singular steed showed no signs of
-fatigue. Only the shepherds belonging to the Tartar sheep-owners ride
-on horses. In hazardous parts of their journeys, such as crossing a
-rapid stream, or climbing among the mountains, the goats take the lead,
-and here, as everywhere else, the sheep follow them blindly.
-
-As hay can only be gathered and stacked in the most favoured spots,
-the birth of lambs and kids in autumn is prevented; it therefore
-always takes place in spring, and the young ones have thus every
-chance to thrive well and grow rapidly. New-born lambs and kids are
-taken into the yurt at once, and they soon become so well accustomed
-to it that they only quit the comfortable tent with piteous bleatings
-when circumstances render it necessary. Later on they are put into a
-shelter near the winter-dwelling. In the open steppe this shelter is
-a simple hollow in the ground, over which the cold wind blows almost
-unfelt; finally they are secured to the rope called a _kögön_, which is
-stretched between strong poles in front of every yurt. As soon as they
-begin to graze they are driven out in flocks by themselves to the open
-steppe, and brought back to the yurt towards evening. Thus they become
-accustomed from their earliest youth to the free life of the steppes,
-to wind and tempest, storm and rain.
-
-In comparison with horses, sheep, and goats, cattle play a very
-subordinate part. Herds of them are certainly to be seen in the
-neighbourhood of every aul, but they are quite out of proportion to
-the numbers of sheep and goats. The ox is larger and better built than
-that of the Russian and Siberian peasants, but it is far behind the
-Chinese ox, and cannot for a moment be compared with any noteworthy
-breed of Western Europe. It is of medium size and fleshy, its coat is
-short and smooth-haired, its horns long and curved, its prevailing
-colour a beautiful, warm red-brown. The cattle are sent out to graze in
-rather large herds, with no supervision of any kind, the milch cows
-being enticed back to the yurt solely by the calves which are tied up
-and tended there, while the bulls roam about as they please, and often
-remain away from the aul for several days at a time.
-
-Though all the large auls possess camels, by no means every Kirghiz
-owns one, and even the richest among them seldom possess more than
-fifty head. For the camel is rightly considered the most perishable of
-all the stock owned by the nomadic herdsmen of this steppe; its real
-home lies farther to the south and east. In the part of the steppe
-through which we travelled only the two-humped camel is reared, but
-south of the Balkhash Lake and in Central Asia preference is given to
-the dromedary. The two species cross here and produce strange hybrids
-in which the two humps are almost fused into one.
-
-The camel of the central steppe belongs to one of the lighter breeds,
-and is therefore not nearly so massive and awkward as those which are
-to be seen in most zoological gardens, but it is quite as thickly
-covered with hair. Nevertheless, it does not stand cold nearly so well
-as the other domestic animals of the Kirghiz, and requires a felt mat
-to kneel down or rest on, and even then it often takes cold and dies.
-While shedding its hair it has to be enveloped in a felt covering, and
-in summer it has to be protected from mosquitoes and gadflies else it
-will succumb; in short, it is the object of constant anxiety, and is
-therefore not suited to a poor man, who feels every loss with threefold
-force. It resembles the dromedary in being easily satisfied in the
-matter of food, and in displaying the blind rage characteristic of
-the pairing-time, when it menaces even its usually loved master, but,
-for the rest of the year, it differs from the dromedary, very much to
-its own advantage, in docility and gentleness. Having been accustomed
-to the dromedary for many years, I was particularly struck by these
-excellent qualities in the steppe camel; I hardly recognized the race.
-The camel allows itself to be caught without resisting, and kneels down
-to be laden, if not altogether without grumbling, at least without the
-horrible, nerve-shattering bellowing of the dromedary. Even at a trot
-it carries light burdens uncomplainingly, covering twenty miles or more
-in the course of a day; if its load slips, it stops of its own accord.
-With a rider it can cover about thirty miles a day; with a weight of
-eight cwts. on its back, compelling it to a slow but striding step,
-it should manage at least half that distance. It grazes almost always
-in the vicinity of the yurt, in company with all its fellows of the
-aul, and in the eyes of the Kirghiz it is to a certain extent a sacred
-animal.
-
-[Illustration: Fig 68.--Kirghiz with Camels.]
-
-The dog, which is the least valued animal owned by the Kirghiz, is
-always large but not always beautiful, though the difference between
-it and the hideous curs to be met with elsewhere in Siberia and
-Turkestan is very marked and greatly in its favour. The head is long
-but rather heavy, the limbs more like those of a greyhound than a
-sheep-dog, the hair long and woolly, the colouring very varied.
-
-Watchful and courageous in the highest degree, he is a worthy adversary
-of the wolf, an efficient and careful protector of the weaker herds,
-a suspicious sentinel towards strangers, the faithful slave of his
-master, an unsociable recluse as far as grown-up people are concerned,
-but the willing playmate of the children. He has many of the virtues
-of his race, and is therefore to be found in every yurt or at least in
-every aul.
-
-The whole life of the Kirghiz centres in his herds,--making use of
-them and their products, and to that end tending them carefully. The
-former is the chief occupation of the women, the latter the most
-important work of the men. With the exception of the bones, which
-are thrown away unheeded, every portion of the body of every one of
-their animals is used, just as every female among the live stock is
-milked as long as possible. The quantity of vegetable food used by the
-Kirghiz is extremely small; milk and meat form his chief diet in all
-circumstances, and vegetable products are merely accessory. Bread,
-in the real sense of the word, he scarcely uses at all, and even the
-little lumps of dough which may be reckoned as such, are sodden in
-fat, not baked. Flour and rice,--the latter a frequent dish only among
-the rich,--also serve to give variety to the everlasting monotony of
-milk and meat dishes. Little wonder then that death from starvation
-threatens the Kirghiz, indeed too often overtakes him, when general
-murrain breaks out among his beasts in the midst of the steppe.
-
-The wealthier people keep the milk of sheep and goats separate from
-that of cows, and of mares and camels; poor people mix all the milk in
-one vessel, and thus get only the effect of sheep’s milk, while the
-rich secure some differentiation of palatal pleasure. From the milk of
-sheep and goats, which is invariably milked into the same vessel and
-collected in the same leathern bottle, they prepare not only various
-dishes, which are eaten at once with or without flour, but also butter,
-small, sour or bitter, gritty cheeses, most distasteful to a European
-palate, and a yellow curd very agreeable even to our taste, which,
-like the cheese, is stored up for use in winter, when it is dissolved
-in water to make a sort of soup. Cow’s milk, on the other hand, they
-use chiefly as sour milk, and only rarely make into curds, cheese, or
-butter, while that of mares and camels is used for making the koumiss
-so often described. This is a milk-wine made by allowing milk to
-ferment for four days, and by constantly shaking and beating it. It
-is much appreciated, and indeed justly prized among the Kirghiz, and
-the well-to-do among them often drink it to intoxication on festive
-occasions.
-
-During summer even the wealthier Kirghiz live almost entirely on milk
-in various forms, for they only kill a member of their herd for a
-festival or on some specially important occasion. When winter sets in,
-however, sheep and goats, horses and cattle, even camels are killed.
-The flesh of the horse, especially of the mare, is looked on as the
-noblest, that of cattle as the worst and poorest food. The flesh of
-sheep ranks next to horse flesh; camel flesh is good for the soul’s
-health; goat flesh is a mark of poverty, or is set before a guest in
-expression of contempt. Of the slaughtered horse the loins are most
-highly prized, and the breast of the sheep. A dainty of the first order
-is the belly fat of a young horse; this is therefore salted, made
-into smoked sausages, and set before the honoured guest with as much
-ceremony as the koumiss itself.
-
-The Kirghiz turns to profit not only the edible portions but every
-usable part of the animals he rears. From the wool of the sheep he
-prepares the indispensable felt; he weaves and spins the hair of the
-camel, and the mother lays her new-born babe in its soft down-like
-under wool. The long hair of the goat is made into fringes for rugs
-and cloths, or into tassels or cords; the short woolly hair is spun
-and woven into bands for the yurt, and the hair of the horse’s mane
-and tail is plaited into much-prized leading-reins or cords for the
-yurt. Sheep-skin furnishes the ordinary winter fur coat; the skins of
-lambs and kids make valuable fur-trimmings; the flocks of wool rubbed
-off make good wadding for lining other garments, and the skins of all
-the animals supply leather of different kinds. The Kirghiz barters
-the superfluous or little-prized fat of his beasts, and some of his
-sheep, cattle, and horses for various other commodities of the general
-market; with the proceeds of the sale of his herds he pays his taxes
-and tributes, buys the uncoined silver with which he loves to make a
-display, the iron which he works, the rugs, garments, and silk stuffs
-with which he decks his person and his yurt. The herds are and must
-remain the sole support and source of wealth of the nomadic herdsman;
-the little land which he occasionally ploughs, sows, waters, and reaps
-is hardly worth taking into account.
-
-It is not their own humour, but the necessity of satisfying the
-requirements of their stock, that regulates the roamings and
-sojournings of the Kirghiz, that compels them to wander this way to-day
-and that to-morrow, to rest for a little in one place, and shortly
-afterwards to leave it for another. The journeyings of these people are
-therefore by no means aimless wanderings about the vast steppe, but
-carefully-considered changes of residence determined by the season, and
-by the species of animal requiring fresh pasture. The steppe allows no
-planless roaming either in summer or winter, autumn or spring; aimless
-roving would expose the herds in winter to the most terrible storms,
-in summer to the danger of drought; in spring there would probably be
-an embarrassing superfluity of fodder, and by autumn the supply would
-have unpleasantly diminished. So the Kirghiz begins his journey from
-the low-lying plains, ascends slowly to the higher ground and even to
-the mountains, then moves slowly back to the low grounds again. But the
-various herds have different needs: sheep and goats like hard, fragrant
-plants such as are to be found on the salt steppe; horses prefer the
-mountain plants, especially those growing among masses of rock, while
-the favourite grazing-ground of cattle is soft meadow-land, and camels,
-besides eating the hard salt steppe plants, appear to look upon thorns
-and thistles as an indispensable part of their food. The well-to-do,
-who can group the different animals in separate herds, let each herd
-wander and feed by itself, and only the poorer people move from one
-place to another with all their stock together. Finally, the movements
-of one party are influenced by those of another. There are, indeed,
-no landmarks nor boundary stones, but even in the open steppe
-rights of possession and definite boundaries are recognized by ancient
-agreement; every horde, every branch of a horde, every community, the
-members of every aul, claim a right to the land traversed by their
-forefathers, and suffer no strange herd or herdsman to encroach on it,
-but take to arms and wage bloody warfare with every intruder, even
-with other members of the same tribe. This explains the fact that the
-nomad herdsman not only travels along definite routes, but restricts
-himself to a strictly limited range. His path may occasionally cross
-that of another herdsman, but it is never the same, for each respects
-the rights of the other, and is prevented by the rest of his tribe from
-encroaching upon them.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 69.--Kirghiz and their Herds on the March in the
-Mountains.]
-
-“Settled”, in our sense of the word, the Kirghiz never is, unless in
-the grave, but he is not without a home. In the wide sense, his home
-is the district through which he travels, in most cases the basin and
-valley of a small stream or brook, or, in a more restricted sense, his
-winter camping-ground from which he sets forth on his journeys, and to
-which he always returns. In the neighbourhood of this camping-ground
-rest nearly all, if not all his dead; here he may even have a fixed
-dwelling; hither the government sends its messengers to collect his
-taxes or appraise his possessions and count the members of his family
-and of his herds; here he spends, if not the happiest, at least the
-largest part of his life; here, gay and careless as he usually is,
-he passes through his severest and most serious trials. The exact
-locality of the winter dwelling may vary, but the camping-ground does
-not. Indispensable conditions are, that it be as much as possible
-protected from the cold, deadly, north and east winds, that the yurt
-can be erected on a sunny spot, that fixed houses may be built without
-much difficulty, that the necessary supply of water be certain,
-and that sufficient pasturage be available within easy distance.
-These conditions are best fulfilled by the valley of a river whose
-tributaries have cut deeply into the surrounding country, where the
-grass does not dry up in summer, so that hay can be cut at the proper
-season and yet enough food be left for the herds in winter, and where,
-in addition to the dung used for fire-lighting, fuel may be procured
-from the willow-bushes and black poplars on the river-bank. Other
-localities are only selected when it is a question of taking advantage
-of some place, such as the salt steppe, which has to be avoided in
-summer because it lacks water, that being supplied in sufficient
-abundance for man and beast as soon as snow has fallen. Though the
-winter dwelling may be a fixed one, it is always truly miserable, a
-musty, damp, dark hut, so lightly built that the inmates depend on
-the snow for thickening the walls and roof, and protecting them from
-storms. These walls are occasionally made of piled-up tree-trunks,
-oftener of rough stones, but most frequently of plaited willows or
-bundles of reeds. The roof and thatch are always of reeds. Close beside
-the dwelling-house is a similarly-constructed stable for the young
-animals, and at some distance there is a shelter for the rest of the
-herds.
-
-In the beginning of winter the Kirghiz moves into such a winter
-dwelling, unless, as is perhaps usually the case, he prefers the much
-more comfortable yurt. The fuel for either has been long ago prepared,
-for in the preceding spring he, or rather his wife, upon whom falls
-all the heavier and more disagreeable work, mixed the dung of the herd
-animals with straw, and worked it into square cakes, which were then
-piled in heaps and dried in the sun. All the grass in the immediate
-neighbourhood has been carefully spared, so that the herds may graze as
-near the dwelling as possible; here, too, the hay which has been mown
-at a distance has been collected. If the winter be a good one, that
-is, if not much snow falls, the herds find food enough, but if it be
-severe, it often renders all precautions futile, and levies a toll on
-his herds heavier than is counterbalanced by the spring increase. Thus,
-in a good winter, cheerfulness prevails even in the dark hut of the
-wandering herdsman, but in a severe one, which reduces his beasts to
-walking skeletons, black care and grief visit even the pleasant yurt.
-In hut and yurt alike there is either comfort and plenty or bitter want
-during that much-dreaded season of the year.
-
-It is not till towards the end of April, in many years not before the
-end of May, that the herdsman leaves his winter camp and begins to
-travel. The horses, tended by special herdsmen, move on in advance,
-so as not to annoy the smaller animals. It is not the lively foals,
-born, like the kids, a few weeks before, that cause so much anxiety;
-it is the young stallions and mares which are just reaching maturity.
-The foals spring about the whole herd in wanton playfulness, but they
-do not go far from the mother mares, who are quietly grazing, and
-only look up at them now and again. The young stallions and mares, on
-the other hand, cause continual uneasiness, and call for the greatest
-watchfulness on the part of the herdsmen, whose numbers are doubled
-for the time. Now the young males fight with the old, dignified, and
-domineering leader of the herd; now the young females throng about the
-sire till he is compelled to drive them away with bites; now one or
-another of them attempts to escape, and rushes, with head against the
-wind and dilated nostrils, out into the steppe. The herdsman at once
-urges the horse he is riding to a gallop, and pursues the fugitive in
-mad haste up hill and down dale; in his right hand he holds the long
-herdsman’s crook, with a noose attached to one end; nearer and nearer
-he presses on the young mare. The dreaded lasso is thrown, and is
-about to descend on her head, when she suddenly swerves to one side,
-and throwing her hind-legs into the air, as if teasing or mocking her
-pursuer, she is off again with renewed speed, and the wild chase begins
-anew, and goes on, until at length the herdsman succeeds in catching
-her, and leading her slowly back to the herd. Entertaining though this
-spectacle may be for the unconcerned spectator, perhaps even for the
-herdsman himself, such mad hunts would disturb the quiet and regular
-progress of the smaller animals, and therefore the owner does not let
-his different herds travel together, if it can be avoided. Nor could
-sheep and goats cover such distances as the horses do, for not only are
-they much enfeebled by the hardships of winter, but the lambs and kids
-are not yet strong enough. Separation of the herds is therefore doubly
-necessary.
-
-The Kirghiz, when journeying with his smaller animals, at first only
-traverses a short distance, a so-called “sheep’s journey” each day, and
-he stops wherever there is good pasture, as long as his flocks graze
-with avidity. On the journey the flock of sheep, with its shepherd
-riding on an ox, leads the way. The sheep proceed at a tolerably
-quick pace, now crowding close together, now scattering widely, here
-and there stopping their march to enjoy to the full some specially
-dainty plant, but eating, or at least nibbling, all the time, and the
-herdsman’s steed also grazes uninterruptedly. The flock of ewes and
-mother-goats follows that of the lambs and kids, but at such a distance
-that they see and hear nothing of each other. The flock of wethers, if
-such still exists, or has just been formed, takes a different route.
-After all the flocks and herds have set out, the women take down the
-yurt, load camels or oxen with it and the few household requisites,
-mount their own horses with their children and other members of the
-family, and ride slowly after the milk-giving flocks. By mid-day they
-overtake them, milk them, and, carrying the milk in leathern bottles,
-continue their journey till sundown, when they set up the yurt again.
-One day passes like another. When the spring has brought fresh verdure,
-they remain for days, later on for weeks, in the same spot, until the
-pasturage around is growing scarce; then they move on again. When
-advancing spring calls to full life the slumbering insect larvæ, when
-swarms innumerable of gnats, flies, gadflies, and other pests fill the
-air, they direct their steps, if it be at all possible, towards the
-mountains, and climb gradually to the highest plateaus just below the
-snow-line. For the shepherd, who gets no assistance from the dogs, it
-is a hard enough task to guide the flocks over the plains; but in the
-mountains the difficulty of completing his daily “sheep’s journey”
-is immense, and it is impossible for him to get over some obstacles
-without the aid of other riders. As long as there is a beaten track the
-journey goes smoothly on, whether the path winds through flowery plains
-or over slopes and precipices. The leading goats survey such places
-for a little, as if deliberating, then choosing their path they go on
-their way, and the sheep follow them trustfully. But it is a different
-matter when, instead of a murmuring brook, a rushing torrent bars the
-way, and must be crossed. At sight of the decidedly hostile element
-even the bold goats hesitate, ready though they are to adapt themselves
-to all circumstances; but the sheep recoil from it in terror, and even
-climb the nearest rocks as if to save themselves. In vain the shepherd
-rides through the rushing flood; in vain he returns and collects his
-flock on the banks. The sheep express their anxiety in loud bleatings,
-even the goats bleat hesitatingly, till the shepherd’s patience is
-exhausted. For one moment the fateful sling hangs over the head of one
-of the sheep; the next, it feels itself caught by the neck, pulled
-up to the saddle, and hurled into the seething waters. Now it must
-shift for itself. Swimming spasmodically, or rather making a series of
-springs, it struggles on from one mass of rock to another, but before
-it can gain a footing, it is hurried on by the torrent, and kicks,
-flounders, leaps, and swims again, is every now and then carried away
-by the flood, but eventually reaches the opposite bank, exhausted more
-by terror than by exertion. Trembling in every limb, it satisfies
-itself that it is really on dry land again, shakes its dripping fleece,
-looks back timidly once more, and then begins to feed greedily to make
-up for the discomfort it has suffered. Meanwhile the rest of the flock
-have crossed the torrent one after another, either of their own accord
-or compulsorily, and when all have been collected again the march is
-resumed. In this manner the nomadic herdsman gradually reaches the
-mountains. When it begins to grow cold, when perhaps a slight fall of
-snow suggests the approach of winter, herdsman and herd turn downwards
-again, this time through the shadiest gorges, till the low-lying plain
-is reached, and the circle is completed at the winter camping-ground.
-This is the regular yearly routine.
-
-All the Kirghiz domestic animals accustom themselves very quickly to
-the different districts in which they graze, wherever the place may be.
-After having gone to a pasture once or twice, all know the way thither
-again, they find it unfailingly without the herdsman, and return of
-their own accord to the yurt to be milked. There is certainly a strong
-inducement for them to do so, for from May onwards the young of all
-milk-yielding animals are kept from their mothers, and yet allowed to
-graze in the neighbourhood of the aul, so that longing for their young
-is kept alive in the maternal hearts. Thus milking can always take
-place at the same hour, and the mistress of the yurt can regulate her
-work and portion out her day.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 70.--Kirghiz Aul, or Group of Tents.]
-
-With the exception of the mares, which are always milked by men, and
-often require the attention of at least two, and not rarely of three
-during the process, all the milking is done by the women. Early in
-the morning the calves, lambs, and kids are allowed to suck a little
-under strict supervision, and are then separated from the mothers, old
-and young being driven to their respective pastures. At mid-day the
-mothers, without the young, are brought to the yurt to be milked, and
-again in the evening the mothers are brought in before the young for
-the same purpose. With the help of the dogs, which render no other
-service, the whole flock is gathered into a limited space, and the
-work begins. The mistress and servants of a yurt, or those who live
-together as neighbours in an aul, appear with their milk vessels,
-and dexterously seizing one sheep after another, drag it to a rope
-stretched between poles, pass a sling formed by the rope itself round
-the neck of each, and thus force the animals to remain standing in rows
-with the heads turned inwards, the udders outwards. In this manner
-thirty or forty head of sheep and goats are fastened together in a few
-minutes, and the so-called “kögön” is formed. Taught by experience,
-the animals stand perfectly still as soon as they feel the string,
-and submit passively to all that follows. The women, sitting opposite
-each other, begin at one end, or if there are many sheep, at both
-ends of the double row, seize the short teats between forefinger and
-thumb, and exhaust the milk with rapid pulls. If it does not flow
-freely they shake the udder with a blow from the left hand, exactly as
-the sucking young ones do, and only when even by this means nothing
-more can be obtained do they proceed to the next sheep. The men of
-the yurt or aul, who may perhaps have helped to catch and fasten the
-sheep and goats, sit about in all sorts of positions, impossible and
-almost inconceivable to us, and allow their “red tongue” the fullest
-freedom. Some of the little boys make their first venture at riding on
-the sheep, unless they prefer the shoulders of their mothers for that
-purpose. The latter are as little distracted by these doings of their
-offspring as by any other little incidents. Whether they sit on the dry
-ground or in fresh sheep’s dung, whether some of that falls into their
-poplar-wood vessels, affects them little, for the vessel is in any
-case as dirty as the hand which milks; and though sheep’s dung may be
-unclean in our eyes it is not so in those of the Kirghiz, who believe
-in the Koran. At length the milking is at an end and the animals, which
-have been tethered all this time and have been ruminating for want of
-better employment, can be released; a quick pull at one end of the
-cord, all the slings are undone, and the sheep and goats are free.
-
-A general, simultaneous bleating is the first expression of their
-delight in their newly-recovered freedom; a short, quickly-repeated
-shaking throws off the last recollections of their undignified
-servitude; and then they run off as quickly as possible, in the plains
-as far away from the yurt as the herdsman allows, in the mountainous
-districts towards the hills, as if they could only there breathe the
-air of freedom. In reality they are longing to meet their young ones as
-soon as possible. All day long they have been away from them, but now,
-according to all their experience, the little ones must appear. The
-sheep run about bleating continuously, and even the intelligent goats
-look longingly all around as if they wished to find out whether the
-expected flock is already on the way, or at least whether it is visible
-in the far distance. The bleating grows louder and louder, for every
-newly-released row excites all the sheep assembled in the neighbourhood
-of the aul; and the impatience of the mothers, which is increasing
-every minute, finds vent in piteous, almost moaning bleatings. The
-longer the suspense lasts the more restless do the mothers become.
-Aimlessly they wander hither and thither, sniff at every blade of grass
-on the way, but scarcely crop any, lift their heads expectantly and
-joyously, let them droop again in disappointed sadness, bleat, and
-bleat again. The restlessness increases almost to frenzy, the bleating
-becomes a perfect bellowing.
-
-From the distance are heard weak, shrill, bleating sounds. They do not
-escape the attentive ears of the mothers. A loud and simultaneous call
-from every throat is the answer; all the maternal longing, increased to
-the utmost by the long waiting, is condensed in a single cry. And from
-the distance, down from the hills towards the yurt, the eager lambs and
-kids come rushing to find their mothers; the biggest and strongest in
-front, the youngest and weakest behind, but all hurrying, running and
-leaping, almost enveloped in a cloud of dust; and stretching out into
-a longer procession the nearer they approach their goal. An apparently
-inextricable confusion arises, old and young, united at last, run
-hither and thither, touching each other lightly as they pass, to find
-out, by touch as well as by smell, whether they have found their
-own or not; both run on if this is not the case, the lambs and kids,
-however, in most cases only after they have been made aware of their
-mistake by a push or tread from the mother animal. Gradually the dense
-crowd dissolves, for by degrees, in a much shorter time than one would
-imagine, every mother has found her child, every child its mother, and
-the young one now kneels down under its parent, eagerly drawing from
-the udder what milk remains. And if the bleating still continues, the
-sounds are now indicative only of the liveliest satisfaction.
-
-But this state of mutual delight does not last long. The udders,
-already milked, are quickly exhausted, and, in spite of all the thrusts
-of the suckling, the fountain will flow no longer. But mother and young
-still enjoy the pleasure of being together. The mixed flock spreads
-out in all directions, the complaisant mother following the lively
-youngster as it climbs the nearest height after the manner of its kind,
-or looking contentedly on when a little kid tries its strength in
-playful combat with another of its own age. The whole space round the
-yurt is picturesquely decorated by the lively flocks, a most charming
-picture of peaceful and comfortable pastoral life lies before the eyes
-of those who have feeling and understanding to enjoy it.
-
-The women now allow themselves a short rest, take their children in
-their laps, and fulfil their maternal duties or desires. But more
-work awaits them. A lowing announces the approach of the cows, also
-eager for their share of maternal joy, and the industrious women rise
-hastily, bring the calves which were tied up beforehand to the cows,
-let them suck for a little, wrench them from the udder again, and only
-after milking allow the calves full freedom. Meanwhile the shepherds
-and dogs have once more collected the sheep and goats, and now old and
-young, men and women, boys and girls, unite in the work of catching the
-lambs and fastening them in rows, with nooses which are firm without
-being too tight, to a cord in front of the yurt, so that the mothers
-cannot suckle. As may be supposed, this is not completed without much
-bleating and noise, and mingled with it are the cries and wailings of
-the children wearying for their mothers, the lowing of cows, and the
-barking of dogs. Only the lambs and kids just tied submit quietly to
-the inevitable. A few kids still try their sprouting horns in playful
-duels, but they soon tire, and lay themselves peaceably down opposite
-their quondam rivals. Before the long row is fastened most of the young
-ones have tucked in their legs and given themselves up to repose. One
-mother-sheep and goat after another sniffs at the little ones till she
-has found her own, but returns to the flock when she has satisfied
-herself that it is impossible to lie down beside her offspring.
-
-The sun has long since disappeared from the horizon, and twilight has
-given place to darkness. It becomes quieter and quieter in the yurt.
-Men and animals have sought and found rest; only the dogs begin their
-rounds under the guidance of a watchful herdsman; but even they only
-bark when there is a real reason for it, when it is necessary to scare
-away some prowling wolf or other thief. A cool, but fragrant, dewy
-summer night descends upon the steppe, and the refreshing slumber of
-this richest and most beautiful season blots out the hardships of
-winter from the memory of man and beast alike.
-
-
-
-
-FAMILY AND SOCIAL LIFE AMONG THE KIRGHIZ.
-
-
-To escape the threatening hand of justice, four thieves fled from
-the homes of honest men, and sought refuge and concealment in the
-vast steppe. On their flight, they fell in with two beggar-women,
-driven out, like themselves, from among their industrious fellows.
-The beggar-women found favour in the eyes of the thieves, and they
-married them, two thieves taking one woman. A great many children
-resulted from these alliances, so contrary to the laws of God and man,
-and the children became the parents of a numerous people who spread
-over the hitherto uninhabited steppe. But they were faithful to their
-origin--thieves like their fathers, beggars like their mothers, and
-like both in being without religion or morals. This people is the
-Kirghiz, whose name signifies “Robber”.
-
-Thus a religious Tartar poet pictures the origin, and describes the
-character of a people closely related to his own, who speak the same
-language, and worship the same God according to the precepts of the
-same prophet. He speaks thus, solely because the Kirghiz, in matters of
-religion, cling less slavishly to words, and think less narrowly than
-he does. His words simply illustrate the old and ever new story; the
-offence which the poet’s words express is constantly repeated among
-every people, the pious lie, which no sect has shrunk from uttering, to
-lower the credit of those who think differently from themselves.
-
-But the traveller who sojourns among the Kirghiz, the stranger
-who seeks and receives hospitality under the light roof of their
-yurt, the scholar who endeavours to investigate their manners and
-customs, the official who lives among them as guardian of the law,
-or as representative of the State; in a word, everyone who has much
-intercourse with them, and is unprejudiced, gives an account of them
-widely different from that of the Tartar poet.
-
-There was a time when the Kirghiz in general justified their name,
-but this time has long gone by, at least as far as most branches of
-the different hordes are concerned. The sentiments, the adventurous
-expeditions, and brigand exploits of their fathers may awaken an echo
-in the breast of every Kirghiz; but, on the whole, these horsemen of
-the steppe have submitted to the laws of their present rulers, live
-at peace among themselves, as well as with their neighbours, respect
-the rights of property, and do not rob and steal oftener or more than
-other people, but rather more rarely and less. Under Russian dominion
-the Kirghiz of to-day live in such satisfactory circumstances, that
-their fellow-tribesmen beyond the boundaries look with envy on the
-Russian subjects. Under the protection of their government they enjoy
-quietness and peace, security of property, and religious freedom; they
-are almost entirely exempt from military service, and are taxed in a
-manner which must be acknowledged as reasonable in every respect; they
-have the right of choosing their own district governors, and many other
-privileges to the enjoyment of which the Russians themselves have not
-as yet attained. Unfortunately, these governors are not so reasonable
-as the government, and they hamper, oppress, and overreach the Kirghiz
-whenever and in whatever way they can. But, happily, they have not
-been able in any way to influence the manners and customs of the people.
-
-The Kirghiz are a race of true horsemen, and can scarcely be thought
-of apart from their horses; they grow up with the foal and live with
-the horse till death. It is not, indeed, on horseback only that the
-Kirghiz is at home, for he understands how to ride every kind of
-animal which can bear him at all: but the horse is always, and under
-all circumstances, his favourite bearer and most cherished companion.
-He transacts all his business on horseback, and the horse is looked
-upon as the only steed worthy of a man. Men and women ride in the same
-fashion, not a few of the women with the same skill as the men. The
-position of the rider is lazy and comfortable, not very pleasing to
-the eye of the spectator. The Kirghiz rides in short buckled stirrups,
-without a leg-guard, touching the front edge of the saddle with the
-knees only, and thus balancing himself freely; trotting, he raises
-himself in the stirrups, often standing upright in them, and bending
-his head so far forward that it almost touches the horse’s neck; when
-the horse walks or gallops, as it usually does, he holds himself
-erect. He holds the reins with the whole hand. The knout, which is
-held by the loop or knot, he uses with the thumb, index and middle
-fingers. Falling out of the saddle is by no means a rare occurrence,
-for he takes not the slightest heed of ways and paths, but leaves the
-horse to find these for itself. And even if he be of more careful
-mood, he will take any path which the beast can tread, with as little
-hesitation as he mounts the wildest, most intractable horse. Difficult
-paths do not exist for him; in fact, path simply means the distance
-across a given area; what may lie between the beginning and the end
-of the journey is to him a matter of the utmost indifference. As long
-as he is in the saddle he expects incredible things of his steed,
-and gallops uphill or downhill, over firm ground or through bog,
-morass, or water; without giddiness or any of the fear which seizes
-him when afoot, he climbs precipices which any other rider would deem
-impassable, and looks calmly down from the saddle into the abyss by
-the side of the goat-track, which he calls a road, where even the most
-expert mountaineer would be unable to repress a shudder. When he has
-dismounted, he acts upon all the rules deduced from long experience
-for the care of an over-strained horse, and is as careful of it as he
-had previously been inconsiderate. On festive occasions the Kirghiz
-performs feats of horsemanship for the amusement of the spectators,
-who are never awanting; he raises himself erect in the stirrups, which
-are crossed over the saddle, and springs from them without falling,
-he holds fast to the saddle or stirrups with his hands, and stretches
-his legs into the air, or hangs from one side of the saddle, and
-attempts to pick up some object from the ground, but he does not seem
-to practise the military sports of his Turkish relatives. Racing is to
-him the greatest of all pleasures, and every festival is celebrated by
-a race.
-
-To the race, which is called “Baika”, only the finest horses, and of
-these only amblers are usually admitted. The distances to be traversed
-are always considerable,--never less than twenty, and frequently forty
-kilometres: the riders make for a certain point in the steppe, such
-as a hillock, or a burial-place, and then return as they went. Boys
-of seven, eight, or at most ten years of age, sit in the saddle, and
-guide the horses with remarkable skill. The spectators ride slowly to
-meet the returning horses, give help, called “guturma”, to the steed
-which seems to have most chance of winning, by taking off the little
-rider, seizing reins, stirrups, mane, and tail, and leading, or rather
-dragging it to the goal between fresh horses. The prizes raced for
-consist of various things, but are always reckoned as equivalent to
-so many horses. Two or three thousand silver roubles are frequently
-offered as the first prize: among the richer families the stakes are
-one hundred horses or their equivalent. Young girls, too, are sometimes
-offered as prizes, the winner of one being allowed to marry her without
-making the usual payment to her family.
-
-While the race-horses are on their way, the men often pass the time
-by exercising their own physical powers. Two men divest themselves
-of their outer garments, baring the shoulders and upper parts of the
-body, and begin to wrestle. The mode of attack varies. The combatants
-seize one another, bend towards one another, turn about in a circle,
-each always watching the other carefully, and seeking to parry every
-effort, real or feigned, till suddenly one of them exerts his full
-strength, and the other, if he has not foreseen this, is thrown to the
-ground. Others begin the attack more impetuously, but meet with such
-strenuous resistance that the struggle lasts a long time before one
-succeeds in vanquishing his opponent. The spectators encourage them,
-praise and blame, cheer and scoff, betting among themselves the while,
-and becoming more and more excited as the balance inclines to one side
-or the other. At length, one lies on the ground, laughed at by the
-whole company, ashamed and humiliated, in his secret heart probably
-embittered. Cries from every throat fill the air, pieces of cloth,
-perhaps only rags of cotton, are torn up and distributed to balance
-accounts; reproaches mingle with shouts of applause, and the match is
-over, unless the vanquished one suddenly seeks his revenge, and attacks
-his Opponent once more. A wrestling match never comes to an end without
-noise, screaming, and wrangling, but actual fighting seldom takes place.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 71.--Hunting the Wolf with the Golden Eagle.]
-
-Hunting must be reckoned among the equestrian sports of the Kirghiz.
-When a sportsman gets on the track Of a wolf, he follows it with such
-eagerness and persistence that he takes little heed though the cold,
-doubly felt when riding quickly, should seriously imperil him, that is,
-if his face and hands should become frozen; for, if his horse holds
-out, he almost certainly succeeds at length in throwing his heavy club
-at his victim’s head. But his favourite mode of hunting is with eagles
-and greyhounds. Like his forefathers, he understands how to tame and
-carry the golden eagle, and with the bird sitting on his thickly-gloved
-hand, which is supported on a wooden rest fastened to the saddle, he
-ascends some hillock from which he can command a wide view. Meanwhile,
-his companions beat the surrounding steppe for game. The game may be
-wolf or fox, unless the eagle is not yet thoroughly trained, in which
-case it is either a marmot or a fox. No very special training of the
-eagle is required; it is only necessary that it be taken young from the
-nest, that it be always fed by the sportsman himself, and that it be
-taught to return to its master at his call: inherited habit does the
-rest. As soon as the beaters have started a fox, the huntsman unhoods
-and unchains his bird, and lets it fly. The eagle spreads its wings,
-begins to circle, and rises in a spiral higher and higher, spies the
-hard-pressed fox, flies after him, descends obliquely upon him with
-half-closed wings, and strikes its outspread talons into its victim’s
-body. The fox turns round in a fury, and attempts to seize his foe
-with his sharp teeth; if he succeeds, the eagle is lost. But almost
-all these birds of prey, which are as strong as they are bold, have an
-instinctive feeling of such danger, and the skill to avoid it. The very
-moment the fox turns, the eagle lets go its hold, and an instant later
-its talons are fixed in its quarry’s face. Triumphant acclamations from
-its much-loved master, who now draws near, encourage the eagle to hold
-fast, and a few minutes later the fox, felled by the huntsman, lies
-dying on the ground. Many an eagle has to pay for the boldness of its
-first venture with its life; but if the first attempt is successful,
-it soon becomes so skilful that it can be flown at a wolf. Though the
-attack on the wolf is made in precisely the same manner, the eagle’s
-bearing is, from the very beginning, perceptibly more cautious;
-the size of the wolf teaches it that it has to do with a much more
-dangerous foe. But it learns to vanquish even the wolf, and its fame,
-as well as its master’s, spreads abroad among the people, and as its
-renown becomes greater its value increases. An eagle which can kill a
-fox is worth thirty or forty silver roubles; one which can vanquish a
-wolf is valued at twice or three times as much, if, indeed, its master
-would sell it at all. It is not possible to hunt with two eagles, as
-one would disturb the other; but one alone often enters into the chase
-with so much ardour that it makes it very difficult for its master to
-help, especially if it will not willingly let go its hold of the quarry
-it has seized.
-
-If the Kirghiz who is hunting with an eagle requires to bring all his
-powers of horsemanship into play, that is still more necessary when
-hunting antelopes with greyhounds. These rather long-haired dogs run
-like shot arrows when they have sighted the game, and the rider courses
-after them up hill and down dale until he and they have overtaken
-the fleet fugitive. If anyone falls on such a ride, he earns only a
-half-pitying, half-mocking smile, as the mad hunt rushes past him.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 72.--Kirghiz in pursuit of Wild Sheep.]
-
-Even when driving game among the mountains, the Kirghiz do not dismount
-from their horses. It was a magnificent sight to see the horsemen who
-were driving wild sheep for our guns in the Arkat mountains begin their
-break-neck ride. Here and there on the highest points, as well as in
-the hollows, valleys, and ravines between them, one horseman after
-another showed up clearly against the clouds, and was lost to view
-again between masses of rock, to appear shortly afterwards upon the
-stony slopes. None dismounted, none hesitated an instant to choose his
-path. It was easier for them to ride among the mountains than to walk.
-
-The sportsman’s endurance is on a par with his boldness. Not only on
-horseback, but while stalking and lying in wait for his game, he shows
-marvellous perseverance. That he follows a trail for several days is
-not remarkable, when we take his love of riding into account; but with
-the matchlock, which he still uses as often as the flintlock, in his
-hand, he will creep for five or six hundred yards along the ground like
-a stealthy cat, or lie in wait for hours in storm and rain until the
-game comes within range of his gun. He never shoots at long range, and
-never without resting the barrel of his gun on the fork attached to it,
-but he aims with certainty, and knows exactly where to send his bullet.
-
-Though the Kirghiz is thus persistent and untiring as horseman,
-sportsman, and herdsman, he is very unwilling to do any other kind of
-work. He tills the fields, but in the most careless manner, and never
-more than is absolutely imperative. Tilling the soil appears to him as
-inglorious as every other employment not connected with his flocks and
-herds. He is remarkably skilful in turning water aside for purposes of
-irrigation, has a highly-developed sense of locality, and can mark out
-his drains without using a surveyor’s table or water-level. But it is
-only in his boyhood that he takes up such work with any willingness;
-after he has attained to possessions of his own he never touches pick
-or shovel again. Still less does he like to work at any trade. He knows
-how to prepare leather, to fashion it into all kinds of straps and
-saddlery, and to decorate these very tastefully with iron or silver
-work, and he can even make knives and weapons, but when he does such
-work, it is always unwillingly and without taking any pleasure in it.
-Yet he is by no means a lazy or careless workman, but is diligent and
-conscientious, and whoever has succeeded in gaining his skilful hand
-has seldom reason to be dissatisfied with it.
-
-He rates mental work much more highly than physical. His eager, active
-mind demands occupation, and thus he likes not only light conversation,
-but serious discussions of all kinds, chiefly, perhaps, because of
-the variety they give to his monotonous life. So he amuses himself in
-converse with others of his tribe, and he can become a perfect bore
-to a stranger with his glibness of speech, which often degenerates
-to mere chatter. With this love of talking is closely connected a
-thirst for knowledge, which in the same way often degenerates into
-inquisitiveness, for the “red tongue” is never allowed a holiday.
-Whatever the wind blows over the steppe the listening ear of the
-Kirghiz picks up and the “red tongue” clothes in words. If anything is
-discussed which the Kirghiz understands or does not understand, if any
-conversation takes place in a language with which he is acquainted,
-he has no hesitation in making his way to the yurt and, invited or
-otherwise, pressing his ear to its walls, so as to lose no syllable. To
-keep to himself an occurrence which differs from the everyday routine
-by a hair’s-breadth, an event of any kind, a piece of information, or
-a secret, is to the Kirghiz an utter impossibility. Does the noble
-horse keep silence when he sees anything which excites his interest,
-or the sheep and the goat when they meet with their fellows? Does the
-lark soar up from its nest on the steppe in silence? And shall the
-lord of the steppe be more silent than they? Never! “Speak on, red
-tongue, while thou hast life, for after death thou shalt be still.” An
-uninterrupted stream of speech flows from the lips of every Kirghiz.
-Two men never ride silently together, even though their journey lasts
-for days. The whole time they find something to talk about, some
-communication to make to each other. Usually it does not nearly satisfy
-them to ride in pairs; three or four of them ride abreast wherever the
-path admits of it. This way of riding is so deeply rooted in them that
-the horses press close together of their own accord, and a European is
-obliged to rein them in to prevent their doing so. In a yurt filled
-with Kirghiz there is a buzzing like that about a bee-hive, for
-everyone wishes to speak, and does everything he can to gain a hearing.
-
-One good result of this love of talking, so unusual among men, is
-the command of language which they acquire. In this they seem all
-alike, rich and poor, high and low, educated and uneducated. Their
-rich, sonorous, but rather hard language, though only a dialect of the
-Tartar, is remarkably expressive. Even a foreigner who is unacquainted
-with it can feel that every word is distinctly pronounced, every
-syllable correctly accented, so that one can almost make out the sense
-from the sound. Their way of speaking is very sprightly, the cadence
-of each phrase corresponding to its meaning, and the pauses correctly
-observed, so that a conversation sounds somewhat broken, though the
-flow of speech is never arrested for a moment. An expression of face
-which speaks for itself, and very lively gestures, add to the effect
-of their speech. If the subject be particularly interesting, their
-vivacity is apt to increase to such a pitch of excitement that one
-begins to fear that from words they will go on to blows. But even the
-most heated wordy strife invariably ends in quietness and peace.
-
-It will be readily understood that the bard holds a prominent place
-among such a people. Everyone who distinguishes himself above his
-fellows by his fluency of speech gains respect and honour. The presence
-of a singer who can improvise is indispensable to every festival. His
-creative power need not be of a very high order; but his words must
-flow without interruption and in a definite and familiar metre to gain
-him the reputation of a poet. But every Kirghiz bard has at his command
-a store of poetic ideas which is by no means scanty, and to clothe
-these ideas in words is easy enough to him. The nomadic pastoral life,
-though on the whole monotonous, has its charms, and certain chords only
-require to be struck to give keen pleasure to every hearer. Numerous
-sagas and legends, which live in the minds of all, yield abundant
-material for filling up blanks; and thus the bard’s narrative flows on
-like a calm stream whose springs never dry up: it is only necessary
-to keep it in the proper metre to make him a poet for ever. Even this
-is made easy to him; for every bard accompanies his recitative on the
-three-stringed Kirghiz zither, and as he links on each measure to the
-next by playing on this, he can make the interlude last until the next
-verse has taken shape in his mind. The speed and skill with which this
-is done determines his rank as a poet. But if a woman is inspired to
-poetry she is sure of universal admiration, and if she consents to sing
-in competition with a man, the enthusiastic listeners extol her above
-all others of her sex.
-
-The vast steppe is much less favourable to regular instruction than
-it is to poetry. This explains why so few Kirghiz are able to write,
-and why there is so little written literature. Only the sons of the
-wealthiest and highest in rank among them are taught to read and write.
-In the two schools founded by the government in Ustkamenegorsk and
-Zaizan Kirghiz boys are taught,--indeed, they only are admitted to
-that in the first-named town,--but the influence of these institutions
-does not reach to the heart of the steppe. There a boy only learns if
-he happens to come in contact with a mollah who has as much desire
-to teach as the boy has to learn. But even then his instruction is
-confined to the simplest things, and consists chiefly in learning to
-read and form Arabic characters. The contents of the principal, if not
-the only text-book, the Koran, are not usually intelligible to the
-mollah himself; he reads the sentences without knowing their meaning. I
-have only known one Kirghiz who understood Arabic, and he was a sultan.
-Everyone else who was distinguished above his fellows by his knowledge
-of the sacred writings, and who, as a faithful adherent of Islam,
-performed the five prescribed prayers, understood at most the words
-of the call to prayer and of the first sentences of the Koran; the
-rest he repeated with the seriousness of all Mohammedans, but without
-understanding the meaning. And yet I was deeply impressed when, in the
-midst of the vast steppe, where no minaret towered up towards heaven,
-the voice of the mueddin uttered the call to prayer, and the faithful
-knelt in long rows behind the Iman or leader, and pressed their
-foreheads to the ground in prayer, as the law of the Prophet ordains.
-
-The consciousness of strength and dexterity, of skill in riding
-and hunting, of poetic talent and general mental activity, and the
-feeling of independence and freedom caused by the vastness of the
-steppe gives confidence and dignity to the bearing of the Kirghiz.
-The impression he makes upon an unprejudiced observer is therefore a
-very favourable one, and it increases the more intimately one becomes
-acquainted with him. So it was in my case, and it is also the opinion
-of Russians who have associated with Kirghiz for years, in particular,
-of the government officials, and of other travellers who have lived
-among them. It is scarcely too much to say that the Kirghiz possesses
-very many good qualities and very few bad ones, or reveals very few
-to strangers. Mentally wide-awake, shrewd, vivacious, intelligent
-where things known to him are concerned, good-humoured, obliging,
-courteous, kindly, hospitable and compassionate, he is, of his kind,
-a most excellent man, whose bad qualities one can easily overlook
-if one studies him without prejudice. He is polite without being
-servile, treats those above him respectfully but without cringing,
-those beneath him affably but not contemptuously. He usually hesitates
-a little before replying to a question, but his answer is quiet and
-clear, and his sharply-accented way of speaking gives it an expression
-of definiteness. He is obliging towards everyone, but does more from
-ambition than from hope of gain, more to earn praise and approval than
-money or money’s worth. The District Governor, Tamar Bey Metikoff, who
-gave us his escort for almost a month, was the most obliging, polite,
-kindly man under the sun, always ready to fulfil a wish of ours,
-untiring in our service or for our benefit, and all this solely in the
-hope of gaining our approval and that of the Governor-general. He told
-us so in the clearest language when we tried to force presents upon him.
-
-In harmony with such ambition is the pride of the higher-class Kirghiz
-in his descent and family. He boasts of distant ancestors, and
-occasionally traces back his pedigree to Chingis-Khan, only marries
-with those of equally good birth, suffers no spot on his honour, and
-forgives no insult to it. But in addition, he exhibits a personal
-vanity which one would scarcely expect of him. Not only authority and
-wealth, dignity and rank, but youth and beauty are, in his eyes, gifts
-to be highly esteemed. But he differs from many handsome young men
-among us in that he never descends to coxcombry. He boasts openly and
-without reserve of the gifts bestowed on him by nature or acquired by
-his own skill, but such boasting is quite natural to him, and is not
-distorted by any show of false modesty. As far as his means will permit
-he clothes himself richly, ornamenting his coat and trousers with
-braiding, his fur cap with the feathers of the horned owl; but he never
-becomes a mere dandy. The women, as may be imagined, are still more
-anxious to set their charms in the best possible light, and I was not
-at all surprised to learn that they prepare from the juice of a certain
-root a delicate, fragrant, and lasting colouring which they apply to
-their cheeks--in other words, that they paint their faces.
-
-As a natural outcome of his desire to please, the Kirghiz gives a
-willing adherence to all the manners and customs of his people. His
-culture and good breeding manifest themselves chiefly in a strict
-observance of all those customs which have been handed down to him from
-the past, and have been materially influenced by Islam. This implies a
-certain formality and ceremoniousness in all mutual intercourse, but it
-also puts a check on undue arrogance, and banishes everything unseemly,
-almost everything awkward, from their social relations, for everyone
-knows exactly what he has to do to avoid giving offence or making
-himself disagreeable.
-
-Even mutual greeting is attended with a certain amount of ceremony
-which is observed by everyone, and is therefore, of course, quite
-clearly defined. If two parties of Kirghiz meet, a considerable time is
-always taken up in the exchange of greetings. The members of both bands
-simultaneously lay their right hands over the region of the heart, and
-stretch the left hand towards the right of the other, whereupon each
-draws his right hand from his heart and joins it with the left, so
-that now for an instant all four hands are in contact. At the moment
-of embracing, both pronounce the Arabic word “Amán” (peace), while
-beforehand they exchanged the usual Mohammedan greeting, “Salám alëik”
-or “alëikum” (Peace be with thee, or with you), and the reply, “Alëikum
-el salám”. In this manner every member of one band greets every member
-of the other; both bands, therefore, when they meet, range themselves
-in rows, along which one after another runs hastily, so as to give the
-temporarily-restrained “red tongue” its full freedom as quickly as
-possible. The shorter method, which, however, is only used in the case
-of large gatherings, is to stretch out the hands towards each other and
-clasp them together.
-
-If the Kirghiz visit each other in their auls, another form has to be
-gone through before the customary greeting takes place. Within sight
-of the yurt the approaching visitors rein in their horses, walk them
-for a little, and finally stand still. At this sign some one comes to
-meet them from the aul, greets them, and conducts them to the yurt,
-which the women have in the meantime decorated by spreading out their
-most valuable rugs. Strangers who are unknown in the aul must, before
-greeting, answer inquiries as to their name, station, and whence they
-have come; but they are received and hospitably treated in any case,
-for the Kirghiz shows hospitality towards everyone, irrespective of
-station and religion, though he always prefers distinguished guests.
-The guest enters the yurt with the customary greeting, pulls off his
-shoes at the door, but of course keeps on his soft riding-boots. If
-he is of equal standing with his host, he sits down in the place of
-honour; but if of humbler degree, he keeps modestly in the background,
-and lets himself down on the rug in a kneeling posture.
-
-In honour of an esteemed guest the host orders a sheep to be killed,
-but has it first brought to the yurt to be blessed by the guest. At
-this sign all the neighbours assemble to take part in the sumptuous
-feast. The head and breast of the sheep are roasted on the spit, the
-rest of the flesh is cut into pieces and boiled in a cauldron, and
-loin, ribs, shoulders, and haunches, whenever they are cooked, are
-set before the guest in a vessel. The guest washes his hands, cuts
-the flesh from the bones, dips it in the salt broth, and says to the
-host, who has till then remained standing, “It is only through the host
-that the meat gains flavour; sit down”; but the host replies, “Thanks,
-thanks, but eat”, and does not at once accept the invitation of the
-guest. Thereupon the latter cuts a piece from the ribs, calls the host
-to him, and puts it into his mouth; then cutting a second piece, he
-lays it in a bowl and hands it to the housewife. The host then sits
-down, but it is still the guest who distributes the meat to the members
-of the company. He cuts it into pieces of a convenient size for the
-mouth, mixes them with fat, dips three of them at a time into the
-broth, and puts them into the mouth of one of his fellow-feasters after
-another. It would be an insult to the giver if the receiver did not at
-once swallow the pieces, even though, if they be large, he chokes so
-frightfully that he becomes blue in the face, and urgently requires the
-assistance, which his neighbours immediately give by striking him on
-the back with their fists, to render the process of swallowing easier.
-The guest, on the other hand, must never give more than three pieces,
-for if he exceeds this number, if he stuffs five at a time into the
-mouth of a man, and if the man is choked in the attempt to swallow
-the too generous gift at once, the giver must compensate the bereaved
-family to the value of one hundred horses, while if anyone chokes over
-the three pieces, he is not held responsible. After the meat has been
-consumed, the chief guest hands round the vessel containing the broth,
-and each drinks from it according to his necessities or desires. At
-the close of the meal, though not until all have washed their hands,
-every well-to-do host, whose mares are yielding milk at the time, hands
-round koumiss, and this much-loved beverage is received by everyone
-with obvious reverence. If anyone has not yet taken part in the meal,
-he comes now to refresh himself with this nectar. They drink to
-intoxication, for the Kirghiz has as great a capacity for drinking this
-highly-prized milk-wine as he has for eating, and in both respects he
-is anything but modest or moderate.
-
-But the ceremony attending ordinary visiting is nothing compared with
-that observed in connection with all important family events, such as
-weddings or burials. In the case of the former, the joy finds vent
-in much practical joking; in the latter, mourning is accompanied by
-ceremonies indicative of respect to the dead. Wooing and weddings,
-burial and memorial celebrations give rise to a whole chain of
-festivals.
-
-As among all Mohammedans, the father woos on behalf of his son, and
-pays the future father-in-law a varying, and often very considerable
-sum. A matrimonial agent, who is proclaimed as such by the fact that he
-wears one leg of his trousers over and the other under his boot, makes
-his appearance in the yurt in which a daughter is blossoming into
-womanhood, and prefers a request for her in the name of the father of a
-marriageable youth. If the bride’s father is agreeable, he demands that
-the sender of the message, with the elders of his aul, shall come to
-treat with him on the subject. These comply, and, according to custom,
-rein in their horses within sight of the aul. A messenger from the
-bride’s father rides to meet them, greets them formally, and conducts
-them to the festive yurt decorated in their honour. There they are at
-once regaled with koumiss, and a bard arrives to contribute to their
-entertainment. He is rewarded by loud applause, and incited to further
-effort by magnificent promises. They praise the depth of his thought,
-the finished style of his execution; they promise him a horse, an
-_Iamba_, or four pounds of uncoined silver as his reward. The master of
-the yurt protests against this, insisting that he alone has the right
-to reward the singer; but the guests promise so much the more, for they
-know that their host will not permit the fulfilment of their promises.
-When the song is ended a lively conversation takes place between
-the host and his neighbours and guests; they talk about everything
-imaginable except the object of the visit, and at length they disperse,
-and the guests ride to their homes again.
-
-The next morning the father of the bride with his train return the
-visit, and after being greeted and feasted in the same manner, request
-to see the young man’s mother. They at once repair to the yurt of
-the housewife, and greet her with much ceremony and courtesy. Then
-the father produces the roasted brisket of a sheep, and distributes
-pieces of this much-prized meat to his guests with the words, “Let this
-sheep’s breast be a pledge that our plans will be successfully carried
-out”. Then begins a discussion over the amount of the “kalüm” or price
-to be paid for the bride. A mare of from three to five years of age is
-the unit of calculation; an ambler or a camel is considered equivalent
-to five mares, and six or seven sheep or goats make up the value of one.
-
-The bride’s father demands 77 mares, but lets himself be beaten down to
-57, 47, 37, 27, according to his means and those of the bridegroom’s
-father. If both are poor they come even farther down till they are
-agreed. As soon as the bargain is concluded, the bride’s father
-declares the betrothal fixed, and prepares to go, leaving a present in
-or before the yurt. But the bridegroom’s father, if it is possible at
-all, sends half the kalüm with him, and pays the remaining half as soon
-as may be.
-
-A fortnight after payment of the kalüm, the bridegroom is at liberty
-to visit his bride for the first time. Accompanied by as many friends
-of his own age as possible, he sets out under the guidance of an older
-friend of the family, who is familiar with all the customs to be
-observed, but he dismounts in the neighbourhood of the bride’s aul,
-erects a small tent, and retires into it, or conceals himself in some
-other way. His followers go on to the aul, and, after having been
-ceremoniously welcomed, enter it and distribute, amid much jesting, all
-sorts of little presents, rings, necklaces, sweets, ribbons, and pieces
-of coloured cloth, among the crowd of women and children. Then they
-enter the festive yurt with all the young people of both sexes. The
-host provides meat and drink; first, the breast of a sheep, which he
-cuts with the words already mentioned, then “meibaur”--small pieces of
-the heart, liver, and kidneys smeared with fat. The dishes are placed
-before the elderly leader of the party, who, as chief guest, proceeds
-in the manner before described, but as he puts the pieces into the
-mouth of the first young man, he smears his face with the fat broth.
-This is the signal for the beginning of all manner of practical jokes,
-and the youths, maidens, and younger women indulge in them freely. A
-very common one among the girls is to sew the clothing of the young men
-with rapid stitches to the rugs on which they are sitting.
-
-When the meal is over the youthful guests are allowed a short interval
-of repose, but only to give them time to collect their ideas. Then
-the girls and women challenge the young men to a singing competition,
-and giving them the place of honour, sit down opposite them; then one
-begins her song. It fares ill with the youth whom she addresses if he
-is not ready with his reply. The merry troop falls upon him, they nip
-him and pinch him, drive him from the yurt, and hand him over to the
-young men of the aul, who are congregated outside on the watch for such
-victims. A bucket of water is poured over the unfortunate blunderer,
-and thus bathed and humiliated, he is led back to the yurt to undergo
-another trial. If he fails in this also he is condemned to be dressed
-as a woman, and put in the pillory. Woe to him if he is thin-skinned,
-it will be a day of torture for him. Joking is the order of the day,
-and no surly person will be tolerated. Whoever can best enter into the
-spirit of it is the hero of the day; whoever is unable to take his
-share is the general sacrificial lamb.
-
-During these amusements the bride sits concealed behind a curtain in
-the back of the yurt. The young people of the aul take advantage of her
-solitude to steal her away, while the bridegroom’s friends are occupied
-with the singing competition. They make an opening between the pieces
-of felt covering the yurt, drag her through it, put her on horseback,
-and carry her off unresisting to the yurt of one of her relatives,
-where she is given into the hands of the assembled older women. If the
-robbery succeeds, the robber challenges the youths to find the bride
-and to deliver her from the women. The company hastily breaks up, and
-they beg her guardians to restore the bride to them. But, however
-persuasive their words may be, their request is refused. The bride sits
-before their eyes in a yurt from which a portion of the felt cover has
-been removed, but violence is out of the question, so the youths begin
-to bargain. The women demand nine different dishes prepared by the
-young men’s own hands, but, after a time, they agree to accept nine
-gifts instead, and they give up the bride, stipulating that she shall
-be taken back to her father’s yurt.
-
-Meanwhile the bridegroom sits waiting in his tent. He has not been
-quite alone, for some of the young married women had gone to seek him
-as soon as his companions arrived, and had been received by him with
-a respectful greeting called “taschim”. He had bowed so low before
-them that his finger-tips had touched the ground, and had then raised
-himself slowly, letting his hands glide up his shins until he had
-reached his full height; the women had accepted his homage, and had
-borne him company all day, giving him food and drink, and whiling away
-the time with talk and jesting, but not allowing him to leave the
-tent. Not before sundown, and only after much coaxing does he receive
-permission to sing a song within the aul and before the bride’s
-yurt. He mounts his horse, rides into the aul, sings his greeting to
-the inhabitants, and, stopping before the yurt of his bride-elect,
-expresses his lover’s plaint in a song, original or otherwise.
-
-  Sweetheart, my love brings me dule and pain,
-    For it’s thrice that I’ve tried to win thee;
-  Thou would’st not waken; my heart is fain;
-    For it’s thrice thou would’st not hear me.
-
-  But late in night, when the camels rest,
-    All fixed by their hairy tether,
-  My heart shall fly to its own warm nest,
-    Our hearts shall be one together.
-
-  Let me but see thy face, sweetheart,
-    And I shall be brave and strong;
-  Thou hast stolen away my peace, sweetheart,
-    And left me with only a song.
-
-  I pray for a draught of koumiss, love,
-    For dry and parched is my soul;
-  Thou wilt hearken and give me bliss, love,
-    And make my bleeding heart whole.
-
-  But should all my pleading tease thee,
-    And thine ear be deaf to my song,
-  The friends will help me to please thee,
-    And the wedding shall be ere long.
-
-Without entering the yurt he returns to his tent. Soon an old woman
-comes to him and promises that she will take him to the bride if he
-will make her a present. He at once agrees, and they set out together.
-But they do not attain their object without having to overcome various
-obstacles. Another woman lays the fork which is used to lift the ring
-of the yurt to its place, across his path; to step over it would be
-unlucky, for the person who laid it down must take it away again. A
-gift overcomes this difficulty, but a second is met with very soon. A
-woman, apparently dead, lies on the path; but a second gift calls the
-dead to life again, and the way is clear to within a short distance of
-the yurt. But there stands a figure which snarls like a dog. Shall it
-be said that the dog snarled at the bridegroom? Never! A third gift
-closes the snarling mouth, and the much-tried youth reaches the yurt
-without further hindrances. Two women keep the door shut, but do not
-refuse to open it when a gift is offered; within, two others hold the
-curtain fast; on the bride’s couch lies her younger sister; but he
-succeeds in getting rid of them all; the yurt is almost empty; the old
-woman lays the bridegroom’s hands in those of the bride and leaves
-them. At last they are alone together.
-
-Under the supervision of the old woman, who is called “dyenke”, the
-bridegroom visits the bride many times, without, however, presenting
-himself before her parents until what remains of the kalüm is paid.
-Then he sends a messenger to the bride’s father to ask if he may take
-his bride to his own yurt. Permission is given, and the bridegroom
-sets out for the aul, once more with a large following and many gifts,
-pitches his tent at a suitable distance, receives visits from the women
-as before, spends the night alone in the tent, and, next morning, sends
-from it to the aul all the necessary woodwork for the erection of a
-yurt, which he has to provide. Thereupon the women assemble and hastily
-finish the sewing together of the felt covering supplied by the bride,
-if it is not already done, and then they set to work to erect the new
-yurt. The favourite woman of the aul has the honour of lifting the
-roof-ring, and holding it in position until the spars are fitted into
-it; the others share the rest of the work of setting up and covering
-it. While this is going on the bridegroom makes his appearance; the
-bride, too, is brought upon the scene, and both are told to walk from
-their places to the yurt to decide the great question as to who shall
-be supreme within it. The mastery will fall to the lot of the one who
-reaches it first.
-
-A sheep brought by the bridegroom has been slaughtered, and a meal
-prepared to be eaten within the new yurt. During the course of the
-meal, the young master wraps up a bone in a piece of white cloth, and
-throws it, without looking upwards, through the hole at the top of the
-yurt into the open air. If he succeeds in doing so, it is a sign that
-the smoke from this yurt will always rise straight to heaven, which
-betokens happiness and prosperity for the inhabitants.
-
-After the preliminary repast in the new yurt, the guests repair to that
-of the bride’s father, where a second meal awaits them. The younger
-people remain in the new yurt, and for them the bride’s mother prepares
-food and drink; and she must provide it bountifully, lest the young
-people should break up the light structure over their heads, and, to
-punish her niggardliness, scatter its parts in all directions far away
-in the steppe. Not even the abundantly filled dish itself is safe from
-the boisterous spirits of these unruly wedding guests; one of them
-pulls it from the hostess, and rides away with it; others attempt to
-catch him and secure the spoil, and so the fun goes on till the dishes
-are in danger of becoming cold.
-
-The following morning the bride’s father asks for the first time to see
-the bridegroom, invites him to his yurt, greets him warmly, praises his
-looks and talents, wishes him happiness in his married life, and gives
-him all sorts of presents as the bride’s dowry. This takes place in
-the presence of the whole company who had assembled in the yurt before
-the bridegroom’s entrance. Finally, the richly adorned bride enters it
-also. If there is a mollah in the aul, or if one can be procured, he
-pronounces a blessing over the young pain.
-
-Then the farewell song, the “jar-jar”, is sung to the bride, and, with
-tearful eyes, she responds to every verse, every strophe, with the
-lament of departing brides.
-
-When this is at an end, camels are brought up to be loaded with the
-yurt and the bridal presents, and gaily caparisoned horses to carry the
-bride and her mother to the bridegroom’s aul. The young man himself
-rides in advance of the procession, and, assisted by his companions,
-he urges the camels to their utmost speed, so as to have time to erect
-the yurt in his aul with the same ceremonies as had been previously
-observed. The bride, having taken tearful leave of her father,
-relatives, and companions, the yurt, and the herds and flocks, rides
-closely veiled by a curtain which completely envelopes her, and which
-is carried by her attendant riders, till she reaches the yurt in which
-she is henceforth to reign as mistress. Her father-in-law, who has
-meantime inspected the dowry, and praised or found fault with it,
-calls her soon after her arrival to his yurt, and she enters it with
-three such deep inclinations, that she is obliged to support herself by
-laying her hands on her knees; these are to signify that she will be
-as obedient to her father and mother-in-law as to her lord and master.
-During this greeting, her face remains veiled, as it does thenceforward
-before her father and brothers-in-law, and for a year before every
-stranger. Later, she veils herself in the presence of her husband’s
-eldest brother, but of no one else, for she must marry the brother if
-her husband dies, and she must not rouse or foster evil desires in his
-heart.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 73.--Frolics at a Kirghiz Wedding.]
-
-In the case of a second marriage, the Kirghiz woos for himself and
-without special formalities. If he marries a second wife during the
-life of his first, and lets her live in the same yurt, as usually
-happens where the man is not very well-to-do, her lot is a pitiable
-one. The first wife insists upon her rights, condemns the second to a
-certain part of the yurt, and only allows her lord himself to exercise
-his conjugal rights within strict limits. The wife is held in high
-esteem among the Kirghiz: “We value our wives as we do our ambling
-nags, both are priceless,” my Kirghiz friend Altibei said to me. The
-men seldom leave their wives, the women still more rarely run away
-from their husbands; but even in the steppe, love does sometimes break
-all the bonds of tradition and custom. Abductions also occur, and
-are not considered disgraceful. To carry off a maiden whose father’s
-claims are exorbitant is considered by many as praiseworthy rather than
-blameworthy on the part of both the abductor and abducted.
-
-Among the Kirghiz, a new-born infant is washed in very salt water as
-soon as it opens its eyes on the world. The washing is repeated for
-forty days in succession, and then given up entirely. The suckling is
-laid at first in a cradle filled with warm, soft, down-like camel wool,
-so that it is completely covered, and does not suffer from cold in the
-severest winter; later, it is dressed in a little woollen shirt, which
-the mother holds over the fire about once in three days, to free it
-from the parasites abundant in every yurt, but she never changes it for
-another as long as it holds together. In winter, the careful mother
-adds a pair of stockings, and, as soon as the child can walk, it is
-dressed like a grown-up person.
-
-Both parents are exceedingly fond of their children, treat them always
-with the greatest tenderness, and never beat them, but they take a
-pleasure in teaching them all kinds of ugly and unseemly words as soon
-as they begin to speak, and when these are repeated by the child’s
-innocent lips, they never fail to cause general amusement. The
-different ages of the child are described by the name of some animal;
-thus it may be “as old as a mouse, a marmot, a sheep, or a horse”. When
-a boy reaches the age of four years, he is placed for the first time
-on the back of a horse about the same age, richly adorned and saddled
-with one of the children’s saddles which are usually heirlooms in a
-family. The happy parents promise all sorts of pretty things to the
-independent little rider, who has, for the first time, escaped from the
-protecting arms of his mother. Then they call a servant or some willing
-friend, and give horse and rider into his charge to be led from one
-yurt to another, to announce the joyful event to all their relatives
-and friends. Wherever the little boy goes, he is warmly welcomed and
-overwhelmed with praises and dainties. A festival in the father’s yurt
-celebrates the important day.
-
-The child’s instruction in all that he requires to know begins
-about his seventh year. The boy, who in the interval has become an
-accomplished rider, learns to tend the grazing herds, the girl learns
-to milk them, and to perform all the other work of a housewife; the son
-of rich parents is taught to read and write by a mollah or anyone able
-to impart such knowledge, and later he is instructed in the laws of his
-religion. Before he has completed his twelfth year his instruction is
-at an end, and he himself is ripe for life.
-
-The Kirghiz honours his dead and their memory even more than he does
-the living. Every family is ready to make the greatest sacrifices to
-celebrate the funeral and memorial feast of a deceased member of the
-family with as much pomp as possible; everyone, even the poorest,
-strives to decorate as well as he can the grave of his departed loved
-ones; everyone would consider it a disgrace to fail in paying full
-respect to any dead person, whether relative or not. All this they have
-in common with other Mohammedans; but the ceremonies observed at the
-death and burial of a Kirghiz differ materially from those customary
-among others of the same faith, and they are, therefore, worthy of
-detailed description.
-
-When a Kirghiz feels his last hour approaching, he summons all his
-friends, that they may make sure that his soul gets into Paradise.
-Pious Kirghiz, who are expecting death, have the Koran read to them
-long before the end comes, though the words sounding in their ear may
-be quite unintelligible. According to the custom among true believers,
-the friends of a dying man gather round his bed and repeat to him the
-first phrase of the confession of faith of all the Prophet’s followers,
-“There is but one God”, until he responds with the second, “And
-Mohammed is his prophet”. As soon as these words have passed his lips
-the angel Munkir opens the gates of Paradise, and therefore all who
-have heard the words exclaim, “El hamdu lillahi”,--Praise be to God!
-
-As soon as the master of a yurt has closed his eyes in death,
-messengers are sent in all directions to bear the tidings to his
-relatives and friends, and, according to the rank and standing of the
-dead man, these messengers may ride from ten to fifty or sixty miles
-across the steppe from aul to aul. A relative in one aul may also carry
-on the news to those in another. While the messengers are on their way,
-the corpse is washed and enveloped in its “lailach”, which last every
-Kirghiz procures during his lifetime, and stores up with his valuables.
-When this duty has been fulfilled, the corpse is carried out of the
-yurt and laid upon a bier formed by a half-extended yurt-trellis. The
-mollah, who has been sent for, pronounces a blessing over the dead;
-then the trellis with its burden is lifted up and fastened to the
-saddle of a camel, and the train of assembled friends and kinsmen sets
-out on its way to the burial-place, which is often far distant.
-
-Whenever the dying man has breathed his last, the women begin the
-lament for the dead. The one most nearly related to him begins the song
-and gives vent to her heart’s grief in more or less deeply-felt words;
-the others join in simultaneously at the end of every phrase or verse,
-and one after another does her best to clothe her ideas in fit words.
-The dirge becomes more and more mournful up till the moment when the
-camel rises with his burden, and not by sounds and words only, but by
-their whole conduct the women testify to their increasing grief. At
-length they tear their hair and scratch their faces till blood flows.
-Not till the funeral procession, in which the women take no part, has
-disappeared from sight, do the cries and tears gradually cease.
-
-Some men on swift horses have been sent in advance of the funeral train
-to prepare the grave. This is an excavation, at most reaching only to a
-man’s breast; at the end which points towards Mecca, it is vaulted to
-receive the head and upper part of the body. When the corpse has been
-laid to rest, the grave is covered with logs, planks, bundles of reeds,
-or stones. It is not filled with earth, but a mound is heaped up on the
-top of the covering and decorated with flags or the like, unless when
-a dome-like structure of wood or bricks is built over the grave. When
-a child dies its cradle is laid upon its grave. After the burial the
-mollah pronounces a blessing over the corpse for the last time, and all
-take part in heaping up the mound of earth. But the ceremonies do not
-end here.
-
-Whenever the head of a family dies, a white flag is planted beside the
-yurt and left for a whole year in the same place. Every day during the
-year the women assemble beside it to renew their lamentations. At the
-time the flag is planted the dead man’s favourite horse is led up, and
-half of its long tail is cut off. From that time forward no one mounts
-it; it is “widowed”. Seven days after the death, all the friends and
-relatives, even those from a distance, assemble in the yurt, hold a
-funeral banquet together, distribute some of the dead man’s clothing
-among the poor, and consult as to the future of those he has left
-behind and the guardianship of the property. Then the bereaved family
-is left alone with its sorrow.
-
-When a woman dies almost the same ceremonies are observed, except that,
-of course, the body is washed and dressed by women. But even in this
-case the women remain within the aul to sing the mourning song. The
-departed woman’s riding-horse has its tail cut, but no flag is planted.
-
-When the aul is taken down, a youth selected for the honourable service
-leads up the “widowed” riding-horse, puts the saddle of its former
-master reversed on its back, loads it with his clothing, and leads it
-by the bridle to its destination, carrying in his right hand the lance
-which bears the mourning-flag.
-
-On the anniversary of the death all the friends and relatives are
-summoned once more to the bereaved yurt. After greeting and condoling
-with the women, who are still shrouded in mourning garments, they fetch
-the horse, saddle and load it in the same manner as when moving the
-aul, and lead it before the mollah to be blessed. This done, two men
-approach, seize its bridle, unsaddle it, throw it to the ground, and
-stab it through the heart. Its flesh serves as a meal for the poor of
-the company, its skin falls to the mollah. Immediately after the horse
-has been killed, the lance is handed to the most important man among
-the relatives; he takes it, pronounces a few words, breaks the shaft in
-pieces, and throws these into the fire.
-
-Now the horses come snorting up, eager to prove their speed in the
-race; the young riders who guide and bridle them start off at a given
-signal and disappear in the steppe. The bard takes the mollah’s place,
-and commemorates the dead once more, but also extols the living and
-seeks to gladden their hearts. The women lay aside the singular
-head-dress, which serves as a sign of mourning, and don their gala
-attire. After the abundant repast, the vessel of intoxicating milk-wine
-circulates freely, and sounds of joy mingle with the tones of the
-zither.
-
-Mourning for the dead is over; life asserts its rights once more.
-
-
-
-
-COLONISTS AND EXILES IN SIBERIA.
-
-
-Those who regard Siberia as merely a vast prison are as far from the
-truth as those who look upon it as one immeasurable waste of ice.
-Russia does indeed send thousands of criminals or others under sentence
-of punishment to Siberia every year; and there are among these some
-who, having been convicted of serious crimes against life and property,
-are not free during the whole of their enforced sojourn. But only a
-very small proportion of all the criminals are really in confinement
-for the whole period of their sentence, and every one of them has
-it in his power to render this confinement less severe, or even to
-free himself from it altogether by his behaviour, and thus he enjoys
-advantages which do not fall to the lot of the inmates of our prisons
-and houses of correction. Wide tracts of the vast territory which is
-governed by the Russian sceptre, great countries according to our
-ideas, have never been used as penal colonies at all, and will probably
-always remain free of those forced immigrants, who cause the settled
-population much more disagreeableness, not to say suffering, than they
-have to endure themselves. And along the same paths, which formerly
-were never trodden save in sorrow, there now pass many free human
-beings, hoping and striving to better their lot in the distant East.
-Voluntary colonists join the compulsory ones even in such districts
-and tracts of country as were formerly dreaded and shunned as the most
-inhospitable regions on earth. A new era is opening for Siberia; for
-blinding fear is gradually being replaced by illuminating knowledge
-even among those classes of society which are more prone to fear than
-desirous of knowledge.
-
-The descriptions of Siberia with which we are familiar come, for the
-most part, from the mouth or the pen of educated exiles, that is to
-say, from people whom the settled inhabitants call “unfortunate”,
-and treat as such. Probably only a very small proportion of the
-descriptions in question are untrue, but they are, nevertheless,
-inaccurate in most cases. For misfortune clouds the eyes and the soul,
-and destroys that impartiality which is the only possible basis of
-a correct estimate of the conditions of life. These conditions are
-much better than we are accustomed to believe, much better, indeed,
-than they are in more than one of the mountainous districts of our
-Fatherland; for the struggle for existence in Siberia is an easy one as
-far as man is concerned. Want in the usual sense of the word, lack of
-the ordinary necessaries of life, is here almost unknown, or at least,
-only affects those whose power of work has been weakened by illness or
-other misfortune. Compared with the hardships against which many a poor
-German dwelling among the mountains has to contend during his whole
-life, without ever emerging victorious from the struggle, the lot of
-even the convict in Siberia appears in many cases enviable. Privation
-oppresses only the mental, not the bodily life of the residents in
-Siberia, for whoever is faithful to the soil receives from it more than
-he needs, and if any one forsakes it for some of the other occupations
-customary in the country, he can earn quite as much by the honest
-work of his hands as he could have reaped from the soil itself. Thus
-do the present conditions of life appear to one who studies them with
-unprejudiced eyes.
-
-I have honestly striven to form an unbiassed judgment on the present
-conditions of life among the inhabitants of the parts of Siberia
-through which we travelled. I have descended into the depths of misery,
-and have sunned myself on the heights of prosperity, I have associated
-with murderers, highwaymen, incendiaries, thieves, swindlers,
-sharpers, vagabonds, scoundrels, insurgents and conspirators, as well
-as with fishermen and huntsmen, shepherds and peasants, merchants
-and tradesmen, officials and magistrates, with masters and servants,
-educated and uneducated, rich and poor, contented and discontented,
-so that I might confirm my observations, widen my knowledge, test my
-conclusions, and correct erroneous impressions; I have begged the
-police officers to describe the exiles’ lot to me, and have questioned
-the exiles themselves; I have sought out criminals in their prisons,
-and have observed them outside of these; I have conversed with
-peasants, trades-people, and colonists generally, whenever and wherever
-it was possible, and have compared the statements made to me by these
-people with the detailed communications made to me by the government
-officials: I may therefore believe that I gathered as much information
-as was possible, taking into account the speed and shortness of our
-journey. In any case, I have collected so much material that I may
-confine myself solely to the results of my own investigations in
-attempting to give a rapid sketch of the life of exiles in Siberia. My
-description will not be free from errors, but it will certainly be a
-just estimate of the state of affairs.
-
-With the exception of government officials, soldiers, and enterprising
-trades-people, chiefly merchants, the stream of emigrants from
-Russia to Siberia was made up, until 1861, solely of those who went
-under compulsion: serfs of the Czar who worked in his own mines, and
-criminals who were sent, chiefly, to those of the state. With the
-suppression of serfdom, which had a deeper influence on the state
-of society than was supposed, or than is even now recognized, the
-emigration of the former class ceased at once. Millions of men were set
-free by a word from their mild and large-hearted ruler; thousands of
-them forsook the mines and turned their attention to the fruitful soil,
-which their relatives had already been cultivating; the Czar’s mines
-were almost depopulated, and even now they have scarcely recovered from
-the effects of the blow. But the great imperial or crown-estate of the
-Altai gained, instead of its former colonists, a new element which it
-had lacked, a free peasantry, not indeed possessing heritable property,
-but yet at full liberty to cultivate the rich soil. The suppression of
-serfdom also altered the condition of those tracts of country which
-had been chiefly colonized by convict exiles, for there, too, it
-became possible to establish a free peasantry. But here the continuous
-emigration-stream proves rather a hindrance than an advantage; for
-in most cases the convicts who are exiled to parts of the country
-already peopled introduce an element of disquiet among the settled
-inhabitants, and prevent such hopeful and prosperous colonization
-as in the crown-estate of the Altai, which has never been used as a
-convict settlement, and never will be so used as long as it remains the
-property of the Czar. On the other hand, many voluntary emigrants make
-their way to the Altai, and on that account the population increases
-more rapidly there than in the rest of Siberia.
-
-It is a magnificent tract of country this crown-estate of the Altai,
-and, as a landed property, it is also remarkable as being the largest
-which can be found anywhere. For its superficial area may be stated in
-round numbers at 400,000 square versts, or about 176,000 English square
-miles. It includes within itself mountain ranges and plains, hill
-chains and table-lands; it lies between navigable rivers, and contains
-others which could be made navigable without special difficulty; it
-still contains vast and utilizable forests, and wealth immeasurable
-above and beneath the ground. Ores of various kinds have been
-discovered at no fewer than eight hundred and thirty different places
-within its boundaries, without taking into account other two hundred
-and seventy spots at which it has been found, but which have never been
-thoroughly examined. In the Altai, one literally walks upon silver
-and gold; for auriferous silver-ore as well as lead, copper, and iron
-intersect the mountains in veins, more or less rich, but usually worth
-working; and the rivers flowing from them carry down golden sand. A
-stratum of coal, whose extent has not yet been determined, but in which
-a depth of seven or eight yards has been proved in various places,
-underlies such an extensive tract, that, judging from the composition
-of the exposed masses of rock, one is justified in concluding that
-the whole northern portion of the estate stands above a great
-coal-basin.[86] And yet the real wealth of the estate of the Altai
-lies, not in its subterranean treasures, but in its rich black soil,
-which spreads over mountain slopes and plains, and is swept together in
-river-basins and hollows, so that it covers them to the depth of a yard
-and a half. Beautiful, often grand, mountain districts alternate with
-pleasing hilly tracts of arable land, and gently-undulating plains,
-which the farmer prefers above all else, steppe-like landscapes with
-fruitful valleys watered by a brook or river, forests of luxuriantly
-sprouting trees, low and tall, with groves or park-like shrubbery.
-The climate, though not mild, is by no means intolerable, and nowhere
-hinders profitable cultivation of the exceedingly fertile, and, for the
-most part, virgin soil. Four months of hot, almost unvarying summer,
-four months of severe continuous winter, two months of damp, cold,
-and changeable spring, and a similar autumn, make up the year, and
-though the mean warmth of the best half of the year is not sufficient
-to mature the grape, it ripens all the kinds of grain which we grow in
-Northern and Central Germany; and in all the southern portions of the
-crown property the temperature is high enough to admit of melon culture.
-
-Such is the character of the land which has been free, for more than
-two generations, from exiled criminals, and which now harbours such
-colonists as, within certain limits, one would like to see throughout
-the whole remaining and not less rich and fertile southern portion
-of Siberia. Of course these farmers of the Altai cannot be compared
-with our peasants who inherit their land; but they compare favourably
-with any ordinary Russian peasants. One can see that their fathers and
-grandfathers have been serfs of the greatest and most exalted Lord of
-the Empire, not half-slaves of a master who, powerless himself, demands
-the most absolute subjection; one can also assure oneself in many ways
-that the lack of landed property has in no wise hindered them from
-becoming prosperous, that is, from earning more than enough to supply
-their necessities.
-
-From the time that the Altai was declared the property of the Czar, the
-lot of its inhabitants was comparatively fortunate, not to say happy.
-Until their release from serfdom, they had all been employed either
-in mining, or in some work connected therewith. Those who were not
-actually in the mines were occupied, some with the felling and charring
-of trees, others with conveying of the charcoal to the smelting-houses,
-and others again with the transport of the metal. With the increase
-of the population the burden of compulsory service became lighter. In
-the fifties, there were so many able-bodied men available, that the
-compulsory service to their lord, the Czar, was limited to one month in
-the year, with the condition, however, that each serf-workman should
-furnish a horse. The distance which a workman had to cover with his
-horse was taken into account according to its length. As compensation
-for absence from home, each serf-workman received 75½ _kopeks_ for the
-period of his work, but, in addition to this nominal pay, he had the
-right to cultivate as much of the Czar’s land as he could, and to till
-it as he pleased, as well as to cut down as much wood in the Czar’s
-forests as he required for building his house, and for fuel, and he
-was burdened with no taxes or tribute whatever. The number of workmen
-which a village was obliged to furnish was in proportion to the number
-of its inhabitants; the distribution of the burden of service among the
-different heads of families was left to the members of the community
-themselves.
-
-The work of the miners was less easy. They were drawn from the towns
-and villages of the crown-estate, instead of the soldiers levied
-elsewhere, were treated like soldiers in every respect, and were only
-freed after twenty-five years of service. They were divided into
-two classes: the miners proper, who worked in regular relays, and
-the workers connected with the mine, who were obliged to perform a
-certain prescribed amount of work each year, the time being left to
-their own choice. The latter were engaged in charcoal-burning, felling
-trees, making bricks, transport, and the like, and they received 14
-roubles yearly. Having yielded the required service, they were free
-for the rest of the year, and might do as they pleased. Those who
-worked in the mines, on the other hand, were compelled to give their
-services year in, year out. They worked in twelve-hour relays, one
-week by day, the next by night, and every third week they were free.
-Each miner received, according to his capability, from six to twelve
-roubles a year for such necessaries as had to be paid for in money,
-but in addition he was allowed two _pood_ (72 lbs.) of flour a month
-for himself, two _pood_ for his wife, and one _pood_ for each of his
-children. He was also at liberty to till as much land, and breed and
-keep as many cattle as he could. Each of his sons was obliged to attend
-school from his seventh to his twelfth year; from his twelfth to his
-eighteenth he was engaged as an apprentice, and rewarded at first
-with one, later with two roubles a year. At the age of eighteen his
-compulsory service in the mines began.
-
-On the first of March, 1861, the day of the emancipation of all the
-serfs in the Russian Empire, there were in the crown property of the
-Altai 145,639 males, of whom 25,267 were at work in the mines or
-smelting works. All these were released from their compulsory service,
-not indeed in a single day, but within two years. No fewer than 12,626
-of them forsook the mines, returned to their native villages and began
-to till the soil; the rest remained in the mines as hired labourers.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 74.--Miners in the Altai returning from Work.]
-
-I do not think I am mistaken in referring the more comfortable
-conditions of life on the crown-property of the Altai, as compared
-with the rest of West Siberia, back to its own past. The parents and
-forefathers of the present inhabitants, notwithstanding their bondage,
-never felt oppressed. They were serfs, but of the lord and ruler of the
-vast land in which the cradle of their fathers stood. They were obliged
-to labour for their master, and to yield up their sons for nearly a
-generation to his service; but this master was the Czar, a being in
-their eyes almost divine. In return, the Czar maintained them, freed
-them from all the obligations of citizenship, permitted them to wrest
-from his land what it would yield, placed no hindrances in the way
-of their prosperity, protected them, as far as possible, from the
-oppressions of unjust officials, and was, besides, a benefactor to
-their children in that he compelled at least some of them to attend
-school. The officials under whose superintendence they were, stood far
-above the majority of the servants of the crown as regards culture;
-nearly all had studied in Germany, not a few were even of German
-extraction, and brought, if not German customs, at least widened views
-into the country over which they ruled in the name of the Czar. Even
-now, Barnaul, the capital of the crown-lands, is a centre of culture
-such as can be found nowhere else in Siberia; and, while the mining
-industry was at its best, it was the undisputed intellectual capital of
-Northern and Central Asia, and the light emanating from it shone the
-more brilliantly because it found in every mining centre a focus which
-helped to spread it more widely. Thus the royal domain of the Altai has
-always held a prominent position among the districts of Siberia.
-
-It was probably never the intention of the administration of the
-Altai to specially favour the peasant class. Until the suppression of
-serfdom, at all events, the class was regarded much as a necessary
-adjunct to the working of the mines. But times have changed. From the
-day on which the serfs were emancipated, mining has retrograded as
-steadily as agriculture has advanced. The authorities have not yet
-been able to make up their minds to abandon the old routine of work,
-but they have to pay such high sums to get it carried on that the
-net profit from the mines is now inconsiderable. Throwing open the
-mines freely to energetic workers, probably the only thorough means
-of improving the present state of things, has been proposed in some
-districts, but is still far from being an accomplished fact. The free
-use of the soil, as far as the plough penetrates, has been customary so
-long that it has become, to a certain extent, a prescriptive right. To
-be sure, as I have already pointed out, no one owns the land he tills,
-not even the spot on which his house stands, but, in the peasants’
-eyes, what belongs to the Czar belongs to the “good Lord God”, and the
-latter willingly permits every believer to make use of it. As a matter
-of fact, the administration of the crown-lands levies forty _kopeks_ of
-annual rent on every _hektar_ of land (2½ acres) which is brought under
-the plough; but it is not particularly strict in the matter, and the
-peasant on his side does not feel it at all incumbent on him to be very
-precise. Thus each peasant, in reality, cultivates as much as he can,
-and chooses it wherever he pleases.
-
-It is doing the peasant of to-day on the crown-lands no more than
-justice to describe him as well-built, wide-awake, handy, skilful,
-intelligent, hospitable, good-natured and warm-hearted, and it is
-not too much to say that his prosperity has given him considerable
-self-esteem and a certain appreciation of freedom. His bearing is freer
-and less depressed than that of the Russian peasants. He is polite
-and obliging, submissive, and therefore easily managed; but he is not
-servile, cringing or abject, and the impression he makes on a stranger
-is by no means unfavourable. But he possesses all the qualities which
-we call loutishness in a high degree, and several others as well, which
-are calculated to weaken the first impression. Although he has had more
-educational advantages than any others of his class in Siberia, he is
-anything but in love with school. He is strictly religious and ready to
-give up what he possesses to the Church, but he looks upon school as an
-institution which spoils men rather than educates them. With a lasting
-recollection of a former state of things, when the old discharged
-soldiers, who held the educational sceptre in the times of his fathers,
-did not scruple to send the scholars for “schnaps”, and even to
-maltreat them while under its influence, he is exceedingly suspicious
-of everything connected with “education”. He also clings, peasant-like,
-to whatever has been in the past, and imagines that more knowledge than
-he himself possesses will be injurious to his children, and it is by no
-means easy to convert him from this opinion. The state of education is
-thus very low. It is only exceptionally that he has acquired the art
-of writing, and he invariably regards books as entirely superfluous
-articles. But he clings, on that account, so much the more firmly to
-the superstition which his Church countenances and promulgates. He
-rarely knows the names of the months, but can always tell off the
-names of the saints and their festivals on his fingers: God and the
-saints, archangel and devil, death, heaven, and hell occupy his mind
-more than all else. He cannot be described as easily satisfied, yet he
-is perfectly contented. He does not wish for more than the necessaries
-of life, and therefore only works as much as he absolutely must. But
-neither his farm premises nor the fields which he calls his can be too
-large, neither his family nor his flock too numerous.
-
-“How is it with you here?” I asked, through an interpreter, one of the
-heads of a village whom we picked up on the way.
-
-“God still bears with our sins,” was the answer.
-
-“Are your wives good, faithful, kindly, and helpful to you?”
-
-“There are good and bad.”
-
-“Are your children obedient, and do they cause you joy?”
-
-“We have nothing to complain of in regard to them.”
-
-“Is the land you till fruitful; does it yield you a rich harvest?”
-
-“If it yields us corn tenfold, we are content.”
-
-“Do your cattle thrive?”
-
-“We are content.”
-
-“How many horses have you?”
-
-“Thirty-two; there may perhaps be thirty-five.”
-
-“And how many of these do you require for your work?”
-
-“Eight, ten, and sometimes twelve.”
-
-“Then you bring up the rest to sell?”
-
-“I may perhaps sell one of them some day.”
-
-“And what shall you do with the others?”
-
-“_Nitschewo._”
-
-“How many cows and sheep have you?”
-
-“I do not know. My wife takes charge of the cows, sheep, and pigs.”
-
-“Have you heavy taxes to pay?”
-
-“I am content.”
-
-“Have you anything to complain of?”
-
-“I am content.”
-
-“So you have no complaints whatever to make; everything is quite
-satisfactory?”
-
-“No, not everything; I have one complaint.”
-
-“What is that?”
-
-“The land is becoming uncomfortable.”
-
-“Uncomfortable; what does that mean?”
-
-“Why, it is getting too small for us.”
-
-“Too small; in what way?”
-
-“Oh, the villages are springing up everywhere like mushrooms from the
-soil. One has scarcely room to turn now, and does not know where to lay
-out one’s fields. If I had not been too old I should have left this
-part.”
-
-“The villages spring up like mushrooms from the soil? But where? I see
-none. How far is the next village from yours?”
-
-“Fifteen _versts_” (ten miles).
-
-Thus does the peasant of the crown estate speak and think. The vast
-land is not spacious enough for him, and yet the twentieth part of what
-he has at his disposal would suffice for him if he would cultivate it.
-For the land is so fertile that it richly rewards even a very small
-amount of labour. But if it does once fail, if the harvest does not
-turn out as well as usual, if the peasant suffers from want instead of
-from superfluity, he regards this not as the natural consequence of his
-own laziness, but as a dispensation of God, as a punishment laid upon
-him for his sins.
-
-In reality, however, he is very comfortable in spite of his sins and
-their punishment, and has more reason to talk of his reward. For not
-scarcity but superfluity troubles him. The government allows each
-peasant fifteen _hektars_ of the best land, usually at his own choice,
-for every male member of his family; but of the 400,000 square _versts_
-of the crown-estate, only 234,000 had been taken up till 1876, so it
-does not matter much even now whether a peasant restricts himself
-to what he has a right to or not. Some families use not less than
-twelve or fifteen hundred _hektars_, and to these it is certainly a
-matter of indifference whether they keep only the number of horses
-necessary for their work, or twenty or thirty more. In reality, it
-often happens that the superfluous animals relieve the peasants from a
-heavy care--that of turning to account the over-abundant harvest which
-the extremely deficient means of transport prevent his converting into
-money. In a country in whose capital, under ordinary circumstances,
-the _pood_ or thirty-six pounds of rye-meal is sold at sixpence, of
-wheat-meal at ninepence, of beef in winter at about one shilling and
-twopence at most; where a sheep costs four shillings, a weaned calf
-ten, a pig eight, and an excellent horse seldom more than five pounds
-of English money, an unusually good season lowers prices so far that
-the too-abundant harvest becomes a burden. When the peasant, who in
-any case works only when he must, can only get about one shilling and
-twopence for about two hundredweights of grain, the flail becomes too
-heavy in his hand, and the harvest, according to his limited ideas,
-becomes a curse.
-
-These conditions, which apply to the present day, explain most of the
-vices as well as many of the virtues of our colonist: his laziness, his
-incorrigible contentment, his indifference to losses, his liberality to
-the needy, his compassion for the unfortunate. They also explain the
-intense desire, innate in all Siberians, to increase the population.
-The vast land is hungry for inhabitants, if I may so speak. Therefore
-even now the Siberian looks with pride on a numerous family; and
-there is no foundling asylum in the whole country. Why should there
-be? Every woman who cannot bring up the child she has borne, or who
-wants to be rid of it, finds someone willing and anxious to take the
-little creature off her hands. “Give it to me,” says the peasant to
-the faithless mother: “I will bring it up;” and he looks as pleased as
-if a foal had just been added to his stock. In former times, when the
-population was considerably less than it is now, children were married
-while still immature, or scarcely mature, so that they might become
-parents as soon as possible and gain other hands to help them; now
-youths do not usually marry until the beginning of their eighteenth
-year, but they frequently wed older women who give promise of early
-child-bearing, and the designs of such women upon marriageable youths
-are not only winked at but encouraged by the bridegroom’s parents.
-
-In order that romance may not be altogether awanting, I may mention
-that elopements of young girls with love-struck youths, and secret
-marriages, are by no means rare occurrences among the peasants of the
-Altai. But the great majority of these elopements take place with the
-consent of all concerned, thus also of the parents of both bride and
-bridegroom--to avoid the customary entertaining of the whole village at
-a meal, simple in itself, but accompanied by a great deal of brandy. As
-may be imagined, however, love overcomes all obstacles, particularly
-the disapproval of parents, on the crown-lands as elsewhere. The
-maiden, like every other on the round earth, is soon won over by the
-youth who desires to run away with her; a holy servant of the Church
-can also be procured at all times by the payment of an exorbitantly
-high fee; but the angry parents are not so easily reconciled. The
-mother curses her daughter, the father his son; both swear by all the
-saints never to see their depraved children again.
-
-  “And Heaven, full of kindness,
-  Is patient with man’s blindness.”
-
-But it is not from above that the reconciliation comes; that is brought
-about by a magic power beyond compare, known as _schnaps_ among the
-races who inhabit German territory, as _vodki_ among those living on
-the sacred soil of Russia. As soon as the father-in-law drinks, the
-young bridegroom has gained the day; for the mother-in-law drinks
-too, and the luscious nectar softens her inflexible heart also. If
-some friends arrive, as if by chance, to assist at the reconciliation
-festival, they are not denied admittance, for the cost of entertaining
-them is much less than if the whole village had assembled, and,
-drinking fervently, had called down the blessing of Heaven upon the
-newly-united pair. Who can deny after this that love, pure, holy love,
-makes even a peasant youth of the Altai inventive?
-
-The bride of the Altai receives no dowry; her mother, on the other
-hand, expects a gift from the bridegroom, and sometimes demands it with
-much storming, weeping and howling, after the manner of women. Only
-under special circumstances, as, for instance, when, on the morning
-after the wedding, the nuptial linen does not fulfil the expectations
-of the assembled guests, the contrary takes place. The intelligent
-and experienced father-in-law makes use of the magic means already
-mentioned, produces an inspiriting number of bottles thoughtfully
-laid in beforehand, promises the indignant, or at any rate downcast
-son-in-law a foal, an ox, a sucking-pig, and the like; the minds of all
-are made easy again, and the reconciliation is effected.
-
-And why should the bridegroom be angry for ever? Others have fared no
-better, and the future will equalize much. Paternal joys often blossom
-even under irregular circumstances, and they are paternal joys all the
-same. For even the poorest couple have no cares about their household
-expenses, if they will use their hands at all; people are willing to
-help them with this and that, and if a bountiful Heaven will only be
-moderate enough for a few years in the outpouring of its blessings, so
-that the price of grain and stock may not fall too low, a tea-caddy and
-cups will adorn a corner table, and silk coverlets the big double-bed,
-shining images the right-hand corner, and indescribably noble pictorial
-representations of the hunting of the lion, tiger, bear, wolf,
-elephant, stag, and crocodile the walls of the cleanly-kept “best
-room”, which is never awanting in the better class of peasant houses.
-
-A domestic life scarcely differing from that already described beckons
-to every convict who is exiled to Siberia, to one sooner, to another
-later, if he wishes to attain to it, if he lives long enough, and is to
-a certain extent favoured by fortune. While in Siberia I came to have
-views about exiles and banishment very different from those I had held
-before visiting the country; but I may remark at the outset that I am
-not one of those who bestow more sympathy upon a murderer, a robber, an
-incendiary, a thief, or any other scoundrel, than upon the industrious
-paterfamilias who strives, in the sweat of his brow, to bring up a
-numerous family honestly, and that I have never been able to soar to
-that loftiness of view which seeks to mitigate all punishment and relax
-all confinement.
-
-On an average, fifteen thousand people are sent from Russia,
-“verschickt”, as the expression is among the German Russians. Those
-who have been guilty of grave crimes are sentenced for life, of less
-serious offences for a number of years. It is not within my province
-to discuss the severities or deficiencies of the Russian penal code;
-but the fact that the penalty of death is imposed only for the gravest
-and rarest of all crimes does not suggest too great severity. But it
-is undoubtedly a hardship that exiles sentenced for political causes
-should be treated on the way to Siberia, and often when there, exactly
-like common criminals.
-
-Condemned exiles are first transferred from the prison in the district
-town to that in the capital of the government, and thence transported
-by rail or by the ordinary peasant-wagon to Nijni-Novgorod, Kasan,
-or Perm. Whether criminals are still forced to march in chains, two
-abreast, and thus to carry their fetters for the whole journey, I do
-not know; I have never seen this, and I am firmly convinced that the
-well-known mildness of the late Czar would never have suffered this
-barbarous proceeding. In the towns already mentioned, as well as in
-Tjumen and Tomsk, there are spacious prisons, and, at intervals along
-such routes as have not been deserted because of the railway, there
-are less roomy buildings for the safe housing of the exiles during
-night. Whenever it can be avoided, the exiles are not compelled to
-travel on foot, but are conveyed to their destination by rail, by the
-wagons already referred to, or by regularly plying steamers: thus from
-Nijni-Novgorod or Kasan to Perm, from Tjumen _via_ Thura, Tobolsk,
-Irtish, Ob, and Tom, to Tomsk. The prisons are simple buildings, but
-thoroughly clean; the hospitals connected with, but sufficiently far
-apart from them, are model institutions; the river-boats are unusually
-long, two-decked vessels, which may best be described as gigantic
-floating cages, for the whole upper portion above the deck is latticed
-after the fashion of a bird-cage. Each of these boats, which is towed
-by a steamer, affords the necessary accommodation for six hundred
-persons, and contains also a large kitchen, a sick-room, a small
-dispensary, quarters for the accompanying soldiers and for the crew.
-Between Perm and Tjumen run wagons, which also resemble bird-cages, and
-which serve for the transport of dangerous criminals.
-
-Every exile receives from government a cloak of heavy gray woollen
-material, in the middle of the back of which is fastened a
-diamond-shaped piece of cloth of colours varying with the length of
-the sentence, so that the soldiers in charge may be acquainted with it
-as far as is necessary. For procuring food on the journey, ten, or in
-the case of “unfortunates” of higher social standing, fifteen _kopeks_
-a day are allowed to each; but during a prolonged stay in prison the
-rate is seven and fifteen respectively. This sum is so liberal that, if
-spent with care, it suffices to procure all the necessaries of life,
-although every day, except during Lent, three-quarters of a pound of
-meat are served out to each. If wife and children accompany a condemned
-criminal, each of these receives a similar sum. Additional earning is
-permitted, and money gained by work or begging flows, though perhaps
-not quite untaxed, into the pockets of the condemned himself, or down
-his throat in the form of vodki.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 75.--Exiles on the Way to Siberia.]
-
-I said that everyone was at liberty to take his wife and children with
-him into exile, and I may add that he usually does so. A long sentence
-of imprisonment for a serious crime is a ground of divorce even in
-Russia; every married woman is, therefore, free to choose whether she
-will accompany her husband into exile, or remain in her native land.
-Even children who have attained their fourteenth year have the right to
-decide for themselves whether they will leave Russia for Siberia with
-their parents or not. But the government prefer that wife and children
-should accompany the criminal, and they encourage it in every possible
-way, therefore they give much consideration to the question of how far
-it is practicable to lessen the difficulties and disagreeablenesses of
-the journey.
-
-That it is oppressive under all circumstances cannot be denied; but
-the journey of the exiles is by no means so indescribably dreadful
-as it has been depicted. Only those convicted of the gravest crimes
-are conducted to their destination in chains; the rest enjoy more
-freedom than our convicts. The portion of the journey which has to be
-performed in the steamers or the boats they tow is the worst. Here all
-the exiles and their families are cooped up together, and excesses of
-all descriptions are committed by the most degraded criminals, who are
-only, or can only, be kept under sufficient restraint in rare cases.
-The expert thief steals from the bungler in the same disreputable
-calling, the more violent overpowers the weaker, or takes the soles off
-the boots of a sleeper to possess himself of the bank-notes supposed
-to be hidden there; the incorrigible shakes the resolution of the
-penitent, or destroys utterly those who had previously given ground for
-hopes of improvement. Male and female criminals are now separated from
-each other, but the members of a family remain with their head, and the
-wife and daughters of an exile are always in danger during the journey,
-no matter what attempts are made to avoid this. On the other hand,
-the steamer shortens the journey tenfold, and thus removes those
-who are not irretrievably ruined, and those who are not criminals,
-so much the sooner from evil influences. More difficult, certainly,
-yet less dangerous to the more hopeful criminals, is the journey by
-land. Driving along Russian roads in a Russian peasant-wagon drawn by
-galloping Russian horses is certainly a species of torture according
-to our ideas; but it is not so to those who have, from their youth
-upwards, been accustomed to no better conveyances or smoother roads. To
-be sure, the exiles are more closely packed in a wagon holding six or
-eight people than the peasant packs his when he drives with his family;
-the driver or the accompanying soldier is in no way more comfortable
-than the convicts, with the exception of the worst criminals, whose
-chains jar more uncomfortably than usual on such a journey. An exile
-belonging to a cultured family, and convicted, for instance, on
-political grounds, cries out under the torture of such a journey, and
-is fully justified in depicting it in the blackest possible colours
-from his own point of view; but if we take into account the local
-conditions, and the customs of the country, we must at least acquit
-the directors of these forced journeyings from the charge of cruelty
-under which they lie. And as for the journeys on foot, these never take
-place in winter, it is only strong and able men who are forced to make
-them, not more than forty _versts_ a day are traversed, and every third
-day is spent in resting at one of the prisons on the way. The soldiers
-in charge walk too, they must keep constant watch over the prisoners
-for whom they are responsible, and must therefore exert themselves
-much more; for if the murderer has to drag his chains, the soldier
-has to carry his weapon, baggage, and ammunition. He, however, is the
-irreproachable servant of the state, the other an outcast from society!
-
-But it is certainly unjust that an exile of higher social position who
-has been convicted of a common crime should, if he has still means
-at his disposal, or can obtain them, be treated otherwise than one
-of lower degree, who is sentenced for the same crime. The former is
-permitted to travel to his place of banishment at his own time, and
-with every comfort, guarded only by two Cossacks, whom he must pay for
-the double journey.
-
-While every unbiassed Russian or Siberian admits this injustice
-frankly, officials and exiles alike deny that there is cruelty on the
-part of the escorting soldiers, or of any other persons, whether of
-high or inferior rank, who are intrusted with the guardianship and
-government of the convicts. It does happen that mutinous exiles are
-shot or killed in some way on the journey; but such events occur very
-rarely, and only when all other means of quelling insubordination
-have failed. The Russian is not cruel like the Spaniard, the Turk,
-the Greek, or the Southern Slav; on the contrary, a mistaken
-compassionateness and sluggishness makes him mild and considerate
-rather than severe and harsh; he may force men and animals to exert
-themselves to the utmost, but he does not torture them in order to
-gloat over their torments. Even the name “unfortunate”, by which it is
-customary to describe all exiles, originates in a feeling deeply rooted
-among the people, and this feeling of compassion is shared by everyone,
-including soldiers and police-officers, and the inspectors and warders
-of the prisons. That even the most long-suffering and lamblike patience
-may now and again be excited to angry rage by one or more miscreants is
-intelligible enough; that miserable wretches at the convict stations
-levy tax even on misfortune in order to gain more money than the state
-promises them in salary, I was informed by some of the exiles; that the
-rebels who were sentenced to exile after the last Polish rebellion were
-treated by the accompanying soldiers more harshly than other exiles,
-indeed with pitiless severity, was the complaint of a former gendarme
-who told me the story of his life through a German-Russian interpreter.
-But to make the present government responsible for such excesses, to
-reproach them with constant barbarity, to persist in talking about the
-knout, which was abolished years ago, and in general to represent our
-Eastern neighbours as incorrigible barbarians, is simply senseless,
-because in every respect untrue.
-
-All the laws, regulations, and arrangements in force at present prove
-that the government takes all possible thought for the exiles, and
-strives to render their lot less hard, and moreover gives to each an
-opportunity of sooner or later improving his lot. To treat exiles
-with unjust severity is strictly forbidden and heavily punished;
-to take anything unjustly away from them is looked upon as a grave
-offence. Everywhere there reigns the desire to lessen the severity of
-the punishment if it can be done, to give the convict back to human
-society, if that be possible. But it is only those who really deserve
-help that receive it, not those who pretend improvement. For they do
-not make hypocrites in Siberia as we do in our prisons. The mania for
-making prisoners canting hypocrites, which is too often seen among
-us, is unknown among the Russians, for they take it for granted that
-everyone honours and reveres the Church and the “dear saints”, fasts at
-the proper season, and generally performs what little is demanded by a
-church which is based wholly upon external forms. On the other hand,
-they deal with evil in the right way, and they achieve results which we
-might, nay, must envy.
-
-Of the fifteen thousand banished, scarcely one thousand are sent
-to work in the mines each year; the rest are distributed among the
-different governments, being, as it is called, exiled to become
-colonists. In the larger prisons not only are men and women separately
-confined, but Christians, Mohammedans, and Jews are kept apart, and
-religion is taken into consideration in distributing the colonists.
-Whenever the convict sentenced to one of the lighter penalties has
-reached the place of his destination, he is presented, on behalf of
-the government, with a certificate of permission to reside there, and
-is thenceforward free to pursue any lawful calling; but he may not
-leave his district, or even his village, without the permission of the
-authorities, and he is under the constant surveillance of the police.
-About the reason for his banishment, or about his earlier life, he
-is never questioned, at least never with malevolent intentions, for
-“in the house of the hanged one does not speak of the hangman”. The
-people among whom he lives are, or have been, themselves unfortunates,
-or are descended from exiles; the few free settlers adopt the manners
-and customs of the other Siberians. The “unfortunates” are helped
-in every justifiable way. Even in the prisons on the way there are
-workshops where industrious prisoners may earn a little; schools
-also are established to prevent the ruin of the rising generation,
-and the orphans of criminals are brought up at such an expenditure
-of time and money that only the wilfully blind can fail to see this
-gleam of light, only the maliciously dumb refrain from speaking of
-it. In the prison at Tjumen we visited the prison school, in which a
-young priest imparted instruction to Christian, Jewish, and Tartar
-children alike, and it was a good face, a veritable head of Christ,
-that this long-haired and bearded, though still youthful ecclesiastic
-showed us. To be sure, the Jewish and Tartar boys had to read and
-repeat the catechism of the Orthodox Church as well as the Christian
-children, and a quiet hope of winning one or another of the former to
-Christianity may perhaps have lived in the breast of the priest; but
-what harm could priest or catechism do compared with the advantage
-gained? The boys learned to read Russian by means of the catechism, and
-they learned writing and arithmetic as well; that was the main thing.
-In the same place we visited an orphan asylum founded, built, and for
-the most part maintained and conducted, by a wealthy lady, and destined
-for the children of exiles who died on the journey or in the town
-prisons. It was a model institution in the best sense of the term, with
-happy child-faces, beautiful school-rooms and dormitories, workshops
-and play-rooms, a little theatre with all the necessary appurtenances,
-the whole a work of mercy whose value cannot be gainsaid. But we were
-to learn more than this.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 76.--Interior of a Siberian Peasant’s Dwelling.]
-
-In Tjumen, Omsk, Tobolsk, and not only in the towns, but throughout the
-various governments, we lived among and had constant intercourse with
-exiles who had for the most part been convicted of lighter offences,
-thieves, cheats, sharpers, tramps, and vagabonds, as well as with
-seditious Poles and other rebels. The bank director who received us
-hospitably was a Polish rebel sentenced to twelve years’ banishment,
-and the joiner who made us some boxes had robbed the post; the coachman
-who drove us had been guilty of a serious theft; the waiter who served
-us had picked the pocket of a guest in an inn; the friendly man
-from Riga who helped us to cross the Irtish had forged a document;
-Goldmacher, our Jewish valet, had sold little Russian girls to Turkish
-harems; the maid who cleaned our room had killed her child; the chemist
-in Omsk was said to have dealt in poisons with no good intentions.
-After a time we looked at every one in the light of the crime or
-misdemeanour which he might have committed, and we had only to inquire
-of the superintendent of police about some worthy men, among whom were
-merchants, notaries, photographers, actors, to hear of false coining,
-embezzlement, fraud, and so on. Yet all these people earned their daily
-bread, and something over, and many a one who wished to remain unknown
-would not have suffered inquiries as to his past to go unpunished,
-because he had completely broken with it.
-
-That an exile who has been a criminal can thus break with his past is
-due entirely to his fellow-citizens and the government, who strive, by
-every means in their power, to further all honest endeavours to begin
-a new life. Those who desire work get it without mistrust; they are
-taken into service without anxiety; the former thief is employed as
-groom, coachman, or cook; the child-murderess is hired to wait upon
-children; the convict artisan plies his own trade when his services are
-required. And we are assured that those who employ them have seldom
-reason to regret it. Thus many a criminal is gradually restored to
-society as a respectable citizen, and his sins are not visited upon
-his children to the fourth, indeed scarcely to the second generation.
-What is practically impossible with us is quite possible in Siberia--to
-transform a criminal into an honest man. That this does not always
-succeed, that there are incorrigibles in Russia as well as among us,
-is freely admitted by the Siberians themselves; but it is a noteworthy
-fact that the idler who is cast off by his community in Siberia falls
-into crime much more readily than the criminal who has suffered
-punishment relapses into his former habits.
-
-While the class of exiles whom we have hitherto considered are allowed
-to follow any occupation they may choose, those who have committed
-graver crimes are compelled to labour in the mines. With regard to
-Nertschinsk, in which on an average four thousand of these unfortunate
-exiles work, I have obtained through General von Eichwald, the present
-superintendent of the mines on the crown-lands, the most precise
-information, and what I learned about the convicts themselves may be
-shortly related as follows:--
-
-All the criminals who are condemned to the mines are brought thither
-in chains, and are obliged to perform the same amount of work in their
-fetters as the miners who are free. The intelligent overseer of the
-mine, under whose command and surveillance they are, treats them well
-if only to secure his own life and the lives of his family, for he has
-not sufficient forces at his disposal to quell an insurrection should
-one arise. The crime of each convict is made known to him; so he asks
-no questions of the convict himself with regard to his past. But after
-some time the great majority pour out their hearts to him and beg for
-a mitigation of punishment. The families of a criminal condemned to
-the mines are also allowed to follow him, or he is not prevented from
-forming family ties. If he is bound to humanity in this way, he often,
-very often, becomes penitent, and with repentance awakens the hope that
-the past may be forgotten, followed by the endeavour to make it so. He
-works one, two years in chains, conducts himself well, and thus awakens
-confidence. His superior orders his fetters to be removed. He remains
-true to his resolutions, continues to work diligently, and begins to
-take thought for his family. This binds him fast to the land he had
-dreaded so unspeakably at first; it turns out not so bad as he had
-expected, and he begins to grow contented. Now is the time to restore
-him to society. The overseer gives him permission to till the soil.
-Years have passed since his crime was committed; he only remembers it
-like an evil dream. Before him he sees a growing peasant-estate, behind
-him his chains. His native land seems strange to him now, and he has
-become reconciled to the foreign one. He becomes a peasant, works,
-earns money, and dies a reformed man. With his death the bondage of his
-children ceases, and they continue as free Siberian subjects to till
-the piece of land with which the government presents them. This is no
-invention, but reality.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 77.--Types of Siberian Convicts--“Condemned to the
-Mines”.]
-
-Not every criminal, however, thus submits to his fate. Full of
-resentment against it and against all mankind, discontented with
-everything and everyone, tired of work, perhaps also tortured by
-home-sickness, or at least pining for freedom, one finds out another in
-similar mood, and both, or several, resolve on flight. For weeks and
-months, perhaps for years, they watch for a favourable opportunity;
-one relates to the other over and over again the story of his life,
-describes to him in the most minute detail his native village, the
-locality and the house in which he spent his childhood, teaches him
-the names of his relations, of the people in the village, of the
-neighbouring villages and the nearest towns, omitting nothing, and
-impressing it all deeply on the mind of his comrade, who does the same
-to him, for they intend to exchange names and histories to render
-identification less easy in case of capture. A smith is bribed, won,
-persuaded to flight, and a tool to break the fetters is found, or,
-if need be, stolen. Spring has become a reality, the day of flight
-has come, and escaping without much probability of being missed for
-a few hours is very easy under the present system in the mines. If
-the fugitives reach the forests they are safe from recapture, but by
-no means from other dangers. For a wandering native Yakoot or Tungus
-hunting in the forest may be tempted by the sight of a fur-coat better
-than his own, and for its sake his sure bullet remorselessly ends a
-human life. Apart from such misadventures, the fugitive meets with
-scarcely any hindrance. For every Siberian, from innate good-nature,
-or compassion wrongly bestowed, perhaps also from fear or laziness, is
-more ready to help a fugitive than to hinder his flight. In all, or at
-any rate in many of the villages on the route, the villagers place a
-can of milk, a large piece of bread, and perhaps even a piece of meat
-behind an open window to furnish the fugitive who may pass through
-their village by night with food, and thus to prevent his stealing. So
-long as the fugitive takes only what is freely offered to him, so long
-as he begs for what he needs, refrains from seizing things forcibly,
-and neither steals nor robs, even the district-governor shuts an eye
-when unknown people travel by night through his village, appropriate
-the food intended for unfortunates, and seek and find a night’s rest in
-the baths, which are always warm, and always stand apart from the other
-buildings. And though an “unfortunate” should beg in broad daylight, no
-one will betray him; should the same “unfortunate” beg for a bridle, no
-one will refuse it who has one to spare. What he wants the bridle for
-they know well enough. Outside of the village the horses are grazing,
-untended by anyone notwithstanding wolves and bears. The fugitive walks
-up to the herd, throws the bridle over the head of a capable stallion,
-swings himself up on its broad back, and trots comfortably away.
-
-“Nikolai Alexandrovitch,” someone announces to the owner of the horse,
-“an unfortunate has just seized hold of your best black horse, and
-ridden away towards Romanowskaja; shall we follow him?”
-
-“_Nitschewo_,” answers Nikolai, “the little horse will come back; it is
-probably an unfortunate. Let him ride.”
-
-And the little horse does come back; for in the meadow behind
-Romanowskaja the “unfortunate” had exchanged it for a fresh one on
-which to continue his journey, while the black horse trots complacently
-home along the familiar road.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 78.--Flight of an Exile in Siberia.]
-
-Thus aided and abetted, ninety out of a hundred fugitive exiles reach
-Tjumen, Perm, and even Kasan. If they were more experienced in travel,
-or had some idea of geography, if they did not always keep to the same
-routes by which they travelled from Russia, very many, if not most of
-them, would reach their goal in safety. But in Tjumen, Perm, or Kasan
-nearly all are recaptured. And even if those who have exchanged names
-do not forget their _rôle_; or if others answer only “I don’t know”
-to every question, neither exchange of name nor obstinate ignorance
-will save them ultimately from the sentence to return to Siberia, nor
-from the strokes of the rod which are meted out to every recaptured
-fugitive. The captive has to traverse a second time the penal route,
-possibly only to make another attempt at escape shortly after his
-arrival. I am told that many exiles have travelled thus four, five,
-even six times through the greater part of Siberia.
-
-Fugitives who yield to the temptation to steal or commit some
-other crime on the way, come to an untimely end. In such cases the
-good-nature of the peasant-villagers is transformed into revengeful
-anger. If he is taken, nothing will save him from an agonizing death.
-Then a corpse is found on which no marks of violence are noticed. The
-body is buried, and the finding and burial are duly notified to the
-magistrates, who inform the governor, and he, in his turn, communicates
-with the governor-general, but the unhappy victim of popular fury has
-rotted in his grave before the government medical officer could reach
-the spot, even if he wished to do so. Upon whom this vengeance has
-fallen no one knows. In this way, but not by order of the government,
-an exile may disappear, and no one can tell what has befallen him, no
-authorities are able to give any information. But every exile who is
-sent to Siberia knows what awaits him if he should steal or commit any
-crime when a fugitive. And for this reason it is possible to live here,
-in the midst of thousands of criminals, as securely as anywhere else,
-perhaps more securely than in our great towns which contain the scum of
-humanity.
-
-I have attempted to give a faithful picture of the conditions which
-hold now, or which held in 1876.[87] It has not been my intention to
-soften or embellish. Banishment to Siberia is in all cases a severe
-punishment. It is more severe in proportion to the culture of the
-person on whom it falls, and in the eyes of an educated man it must
-always seem terrible. But banishment to Siberia was never meant to be
-other than a punishment, and it was meant to fall more heavily on the
-educated than on the uneducated. The justice of such a principle may
-be disputed, but it cannot be entirely denied. It is only possible,
-however, to form a fair idea of the lot of exiles in Siberia when we
-compare it with that of our own criminals.
-
-What becomes of the unhappy beings who people our prisons? What becomes
-of their families, their wives, their children? What fate awaits the
-prisoners when their time of imprisonment has expired; what have their
-families to look forward to?
-
-Answers to these questions can be given by all who are acquainted with
-our penal institutions.
-
-If the unhappy lot of our criminals be compared, honestly and without
-prejudice, with that of the exiles in Siberia, the result will not be
-doubtful. Every true friend of humanity must echo the wish which came
-to me in the distant East, and which has never since left me:
-
-“If only we had a Siberia too: it would be better for our criminals,
-and better for ourselves”.
-
-
-
-
-AN ORNITHOLOGIST ON THE DANUBE.
-
-
-Hungary was, and is, and will continue to be one of the goals of the
-German ornithologist’s ambition. Situated more favourably than any
-other country in Europe, lying as it does between the North Sea and the
-Black Sea, the Baltic and the Mediterranean, the great northern plain
-and the Alps--including within its boundaries both the North and the
-South, steppes and mountains, forests, rivers, and marshes--it offers
-great advantages and attractions to resident and wandering birds alike,
-and thus possesses a richer bird-fauna perhaps than any other country
-in our quarter of the globe. Enthusiastic descriptions of this wealth,
-from the pen of our most illustrious investigators and masters, have
-contributed not a little to increase and strengthen the longing--I
-would almost call it inborn--that all the bird-lovers of Germany have
-to see Hungary. It is strange, however, that this beautiful, rich
-country, lying so near to us, has been so rarely visited by Germans.
-
-I myself had seen only its capital and what one can see of the country
-from the railway; I therefore shared most thoroughly in the longing of
-which I have just spoken. It was to be fulfilled, but only to return
-even more ardently thereafter. “None walks unpunished beneath the
-palms”, and no lover of birds can spend May-tide in Fruskagora without
-having for ever after a longing to return.
-
-“Would you like,” asked my gracious patron, the Crown Prince Rudolph,
-“to accompany me to South Hungary for some eagle-shooting? I have
-definite reports of perhaps twenty eyries, and I think that we should
-all be able to learn much, if we visited them and observed diligently.”
-
-Twenty eyries! One must have been banished for long years on the
-dreary flats of North Germany, one must have gloated over the bright
-pictures raised in one’s mind by the glowing reports of some roaming
-ornithologist, to appreciate the joy with which I agreed to go. Twenty
-eyries, at no very great distance from Vienna and not far from Pesth:
-I should not have been my father’s son had I remained indifferent. The
-days seemed hours when we were busy with all sorts of preparations, and
-again they seemed to lengthen out into weeks, such was my impatient
-desire to be off.
-
-It was but a small travelling party that started from Vienna on the
-second day of the Easter holidays (1878), but we were merry and
-hopeful, eager for sport and energetic. Besides the august lord
-of the chase and his illustrious brother-in-law, there were but
-three--Obersthofmeister Count Bombelles, Eugen von Homeyer, and myself.
-A day later, at Pesth, we got aboard the swift and comfortable vessel
-which carried us towards the mouth of the “blonde” Danube. In Lenten
-mist suffused with morning sunlight, the proud Kaiserburg stood out
-before us, and the gardens of the Bloxberg were bright with the first
-green of the young year, as we took leave of the capital of Hungary.
-
-With the scenery of the Rhine, of the Upper, or even, it is said, of
-the Lower Danube, the stretch of country through which we were now
-rapidly borne cannot be compared. A few kilometres below the sister
-towns the banks become flat, the hills on the right side of the stream
-sink into featureless heights, and only in the dim blue distance does
-the eye catch the gently curved lines of moderately high ranges. From
-the left bank extends the broad plain. Without end, without change, it
-stretches in uniform monotony; hardly one of the large, rich villages
-is conspicuous enough to catch the eye. Here and there a herdsman
-in shepherd’s dress leans on his strong staff, but his charge is
-not a flock of simple sheep; grunting, bristly pigs crowd around
-him--how brown with the sun he is!--or lie in rows about him enjoying
-comfortable rest. Around the pools filled by the floods the lapwing
-flutters; over the broad flats the hen-harrier wings its unsteady
-flight; the martins sweep in and out of their nests burrowed in the
-steep banks; dainty water-wagtails trip about on the shingle-roofs of
-the innumerable boatmills; ducks and cormorants rise in noisy alarm
-from the stream; while kites and hooded crows fly in circles over its
-surface. Such is a picture of this region.
-
-Soon, however, the landscape changes. The alluvial plain, traversed
-by the river which made it, broadens out. Over the flats, not yet
-protected by dikes, and submerged by every flood, the river extends in
-numerous, for the most part nameless branches. A luxuriant growth of
-wood clothes the banks and islands, and as the fringe is too dense to
-allow any glimpse of the interior, this meadow-wood bounds the view for
-mile after mile. Variable and yet monotonous are the pictures which
-appear and disappear, as in a dissolving view, while the ship follows
-the windings of the stream. Willows and poplars--white, silvery, and
-black--elms and oaks, the first predominating, the last often sparse
-in their occurrence, form the material of these pictures. Above the
-dense fringe, which consists almost wholly of willow, there rise older
-trees of the same kind; beyond these in the woods, which often extend
-far inland, rise the impressive crowns of lofty silver poplars and
-black poplars, and the bald heads of old gnarled oaks. A single glance
-embraces all phases of tree-life from the sprouting willow-shoot to
-the dying giant--trees living, sprouting, growing, and exultant in the
-fulness of their strength; trees withered at the top, victims of fire
-from the heavens or from the earth and half reduced to tinder; trees
-prostrate on the ground, crumbling and rotting. Between these we see
-the gleams of flowing or standing water; above all is the great dome
-of heaven. In the secret shades we hear the song of the nightingale
-and the finches, the lyrics of the thrush, the shrill cry of falcon or
-eagle, the laugh of the woodpecker, the raven’s croak, and the heron’s
-shrill shriek.
-
-Here and there is a glade not yet overgrown, a gap in the wood
-and through which we catch a glimpse of the landscape in the
-background,--of the broad plain on the right bank of the stream,
-and the fringe of hills in the distance, of an apparently endless
-succession of fields, from which at distant intervals rise the church
-spires which mark the scattered villages or, it may be, townships. In
-summer, when all is of one predominantly green hue, in late autumn,
-winter, and early spring, when the trees are leafless, this shore
-landscape may seem almost dull; now it is monotonous, but yet not
-unattractive, for all the willows and poplars have young leaves, or in
-many cases catkins, and, here and there at least, they make the woods
-gay and gladsome.
-
-Only at a few places is such a wood as this accessible; for the
-most part it is a huge morass. If one attempts, either on land or
-by waterways, to penetrate into the interior, one, sooner or later,
-reaches a jungle which has no parallel in Germany. Only on those
-spots which are raised above the level of the river, and which have a
-rich, in part muddy soil, is one reminded of German vegetation. Here
-lilies of the valley, with their soft, green leaves and fragrant,
-white bells, form a most decorative carpeting, covering the ground
-for wide stretches; but even here the nettles and bramble-bushes
-grow in wanton luxuriance, and various climbing plants spread their
-tangled net over wide areas of the forest, so that almost insuperable
-obstacles and barriers prevent further progress. In other places
-the wood is literally a bog out of which the giant trees rear their
-stems. Mighty stems indeed, but many--victims of old age, tempest,
-thunderbolt, and the careless herdsman’s fire--lie rotting in the
-water, already forming, in many cases, the soil from which rises a
-younger and vigorous growth of underwood. Other trees, which have not
-yet succumbed to decay, lie prostrate and bar the way. The wind has
-swept the fallen wood, both thick branches and delicate twigs, into
-floating islands and obtrusive snags, which present to the small boat
-obstacles not less difficult than those which obstruct the explorer on
-foot. Similar floating islands, composed of reeds and sedges, form a
-deceptive covering over wide stretches of water. Raised mud-banks, on
-which willows and poplars have found a suitable soil for their seeds,
-have become impenetrable thickets, disputing the possession of the
-ground even with the forests of reeds which are often many square miles
-in extent. Dwarf willows, at once youthful and senile forests, form
-dark patches in the heart of the reed-beds. What may be concealed in
-the gloomy wood, with its bogs and thickets, or by the reeds, remains
-almost quite hidden from the searching eye of the naturalist, for
-he can see through no more than the fringe of this wilderness, nor
-traverse it except along the broader waterways.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 79.--Herons and their Nests.]
-
-Such was the district in which our sport began. The eagles, the royal
-rulers of the air, which formed the primary object of our quest, did
-not, indeed, come within range, nor even within sight, on the first day
-of our journey; but, on the other hand, we visited the famous heronry
-on the island of Adony, and had abundant opportunities of observing
-the life of the brooding birds. For two generations, herons and
-cormorants have nested on the tall trees of the island, among the much
-older residents--the rooks; and, though the cormorants have greatly
-diminished in numbers since the beginning of the sixties, they have
-not yet entirely disappeared. Forty years ago, according to Landbeck’s
-estimate, there nested here about one thousand pairs of night-herons,
-two hundred and fifty pairs of common herons, fifty pairs of little
-egrets, and a hundred pairs of cormorants; but now the rooks, of which
-there are from fifteen hundred to two thousand pairs, form the great
-bulk of the colony, while the common herons have dwindled to about
-a hundred and fifty, the night-herons to thirty or forty pairs, the
-egrets have disappeared entirely, and only the cormorants remain in
-approximately the same numbers as formerly. Yet at least an echo of the
-former life rang in our ears as we set foot on the island, and here and
-there the forest still presents the old picture almost unchanged.
-
-The various birds in such a mixed heronry appear to live in the best
-accord, yet there is neither peace nor friendliness among them. One
-oppresses and supports, plunders and feeds the other. The herons invade
-the rooks’ colonies to save themselves the labour of nest-building;
-the rooks collect twigs and build their nests, and the herons drive
-them away, that they may take forcible possession of the nests, or at
-any rate of the building material; the cormorants dispute with the
-herons the possession of the stolen booty, and finally assume despotic
-authority over the entire colony. But even they, thieves and robbers
-as they are, are plundered and robbed in their turn, for the crows
-and kites--the last being seldom absent from such settlements--feed
-themselves and their young to no slight extent on the fish which the
-herons and cormorants have brought for the sustenance of their mates
-and young. The first meeting of the various kinds of brooding birds
-is hostile. Violent and protracted battles are fought, and the ten
-times vanquished renews hostilities for the eleventh time before he
-learns to submit to the inevitable. But in time the inter-relations are
-better adjusted, as the individual members of the colony recognize that
-there are advantages in social life, and that there is room enough for
-peaceable neighbours. Fighting and quarrelling never cease entirely,
-but the bitter war of species against species gives place gradually to
-conditions which are at least endurable. The birds become accustomed
-to each other, and make use of the capabilities of their adversaries
-as far as may be. It may even happen, indeed, that those who have been
-plundered follow those who have robbed them when the latter find it
-necessary to change their brooding-places.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 80.--Rooks and their Nests.]
-
-The spectacle of a mixed heronry is fascinating in the highest degree.
-“There is hardly anything”, writes Baldamus, “more varied, more
-attractive, more beautiful, than these Hungarian marshes with their
-bird-life, which is remarkable both for the number of individuals
-and for their variety of form and colouring. Let any one look at the
-most conspicuous of these marsh-dwellers in a collection, and then let
-him endeavour to picture them to himself standing, walking, running,
-climbing, flying, in short, living, and he will be obliged to admit
-that such bird-life is marvellously attractive.” This description is
-correct even if it be applied to the impoverished island of Adony. Much
-as its once teeming population has dwindled, there are still thousands
-and thousands of birds. For long stretches of the forest every high
-tree bears nests, many having twenty or thirty, and all about these is
-the noisy bustle of sociable bird-life. Upon the nests sit the female
-rooks, common herons, night-herons, and cormorants, looking out with
-dark, sulphur-yellow, blood-red, and sea-green eyes upon the intruder
-who has invaded their sanctuary; sitting and climbing on the topmost
-boughs of the giant trees, or fluttering, flying, floating above them
-are black, brown, gray, one-coloured and many-coloured, dull and
-shimmering bird forms; above these, kites are circling; on the trunks
-woodpeckers are hanging, hard at work; sleek, gleaming white-throats
-are seeking their daily bread among the blossom of a pear-tree, finches
-and willow-wrens among the fresh foliage of the bird-cherry. The
-beautiful carpet of woodruff which covers the ground in many places is
-spattered and soiled with the excrement of birds, and disfigured by
-broken eggs or their shells, and by decomposing fish which have fallen
-from the nests.
-
-The first shot from the gun of our gracious patron caused an
-indescribable confusion. The startled herons rose screaming, and the
-rooks with stupefying croaking; the cormorants, too, forsook their
-nests with angry screeches. A cloud of birds formed over the forest,
-drifted hither and thither, up and down, became denser and overshadowed
-the tree-tops, broke up into groups which sank hesitatingly down
-towards their forsaken nests, enveloped these completely for a little,
-and then united again with the main mass. Every single one screamed,
-croaked, cawed, and screeched in the most ear-piercing fashion;
-everyone took to flight, but was drawn back again by anxiety for nest
-and eggs. The whole forest was in an uproar; yet, careless of the
-terrifying noise, the finch warbled its spring greeting amidst the
-trees, a woodpecker called joyously, the nightingales poured forth
-their inspiring melody, and poetic souls revealed themselves even among
-the thieves and robbers.
-
-Richly laden with booty, we returned, after five hours’ sport, to
-our comfortable quarters on board ship, and occupied ourselves as we
-steamed further with the scientific arrangement of our newly-acquired
-treasures. For hours we travelled through forests such as I have
-depicted, now and then passing by large or small hamlets, villages,
-and towns, until the gathering darkness forced us to moor our vessel.
-In the early dawn of the following morning we reached Apatin. The
-firing of cannon, music, and joyous acclamation greet the much-loved
-heir to the throne. People of all sorts throng about the boat; native
-hunting-assistants, nest-seekers, tree-climbers, and bird-skinners
-come on board; more than a dozen of the little boats called “Ezikela”
-are loaded. Then our steamer turns up stream again, to land us in the
-neighbourhood of a broad arm of the river. Up this we penetrated for
-the first time into the damp meadow-forests. All the little boats
-which had joined us in Apatin followed our larger one, like ducklings
-swimming after a mother duck. To-day the chase is directed solely
-against the sea eagle which broods so abundantly in these forests that
-no fewer than five eyries could be found within a radius of a square
-mile. We separated with the sportsman’s salute, to approach these
-eyries from different directions.
-
-I was well acquainted with these bold and rapacious, if rather ignoble
-birds of prey, for I had seen them in Norway and Lapland, in Siberia
-and in Egypt, but I had never observed them beside their eyries; and
-the opportunity of doing so was most welcome. As his name implies, the
-favourite habitat of the sea-eagle is by the sea-coasts, or on the
-banks of lakes and rivers rich in fish. If winter drives him from his
-haunts, he migrates as far southwards as is necessary to enable him
-to pick up a living during the cold months. In Hungary, this eagle is
-the commonest of all the large birds of prey; he does not forsake the
-country even in winter, and only makes long expeditions in his earlier
-years before maturity, as though he wished to try the experiment of
-living abroad. During spring, therefore, one sees in that district only
-adult, or what comes to the same thing, full-grown birds capable of
-reproduction, while in autumn and winter there are, in addition, the
-young ones which left the nest only a few months before. Then also many
-wanderers who have not settled down come to enliven the forest-shores
-of the Danube. As long as the river is not covered with ice, they have
-no difficulty in finding food; for they hunt in the water not less,
-perhaps rather more skilfully than on land. They circle over the water
-until they spy a fish, then throw themselves down upon it like a flash
-of lightning, dive after it, sometimes disappearing completely beneath
-the waves, but working their way quickly to the surface again by aid
-of their powerful wings, carry off their victim, whose scaly armour
-has been penetrated by their irresistible talons, and devour it at
-their leisure. As their depredations are not so severely condemned in
-Hungary as with us, and as they are treated generally with undeserved
-forbearance, they regularly frequent the neighbourhood of the
-fishermen’s huts, and sit among the trees close by until the fisherman
-throws them stale fish or any refuse which they can eat. Like the
-fishermen, the Hungarian, Servian, and Slav peasants help to provide
-them with food, for, instead of burying animals which have died, they
-let them lie exposed in the fields, and leave it to the eagles and the
-vultures, or to dogs and wolves, to remove the carrion. If a covering
-of ice protects his usual prey, and no carrion is available, the
-sea-eagle need not yet starve; for, like the nobler and more courageous
-golden eagle, he hunts all game which he has a chance of overpowering.
-He attacks the fox as well as the hare, the hedgehog and the rat, the
-diver and the wild goose, steals from the mother seal her sucking
-young, and may even carry his blind rapacity so far as to strike his
-powerful talons into the back of a dolphin or a sturgeon, by whom he
-is carried down into the sea and drowned before he can free his claws.
-Under some circumstances he will even attack human beings. Thus he need
-hardly ever suffer want; and as he is not systematically hunted, he
-leads quite an enviable life.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 81.--Sea-eagle and Nest in a Danube Forest.]
-
-Until near the breeding-time, the sea-eagle lives at peace with his
-fellows; but, as that season approaches, he becomes combative and
-quarrelsome, in most cases through jealousy. For the sake of mate
-and eyrie, he wages bitter war with others of his species. An eagle
-pair, once united, remain so for life, but only if the male is able
-to protect his mate from the wooing of others, and to defend his own
-eyrie. A male eagle, which has just reached maturity and is exulting in
-the consciousness of his strength, casts his eyes longingly upon the
-mate and eyrie of another eagle, and both are lost to their owner if he
-allows himself to be vanquished in fight by the intruder. The rightful
-lord, therefore, fights to the death against everyone who attempts to
-disturb his marital and domestic happiness. The battle begins high in
-the air, but is often finished on the ground. With beak and claw, first
-one, then the other ventures an assault; at length one succeeds in
-getting a grip of his adversary, whose talons, in return, are promptly
-fixed in his rival’s body. Like balls of feathers, the two fall to the
-ground, or into the water, when both let go their hold, but only to
-renew the attack. When they fight on the ground, the rivals challenge
-one another like enraged cocks, and blood and feathers left behind show
-the scene of the battle and bear witness to its deadly seriousness. The
-female circles above the combatants or watches them from her high perch
-with seeming indifference, but she never fails to caress the conqueror,
-whether he be her lawful spouse or the new-comer. Woe to the eagle
-if he does not succeed in repulsing the intruder! In the eyes of the
-female, none but the strong deserves the fair.
-
-After successfully repelled attacks and fights of that kind, from
-which no eagle is exempt, and which are said to be repeated in Hungary
-every year, the pair, probably long wedded, take possession of the old
-eyrie, and begin, in February, to repair it. Both birds set to work
-to collect the necessary material, picking it up from the ground, or
-from the water, or breaking it off the trees, and carrying it in their
-talons, often for a long distance, to the nest, to rebuild and improve
-this as well as an eagle can. As this building up of the old nest takes
-place every year, it gradually grows to a considerable height, and one
-can tell from it the age of the birds, and may also guess the probable
-duration of their wedded life; for the oldest nest contains the oldest
-pair of eagles. The nest is not always placed among the highest
-branches of the tree, but is in all cases high above the ground, more
-or less near the trunk, and always on strong boughs which can bear its
-heavy and ever-increasing weight. Both upper and lower tiers consist of
-sticks and twigs laid loosely above and across one another; and many
-pairs of hedge-sparrows, which approach the mighty birds quite boldly
-and confidently, find among these twigs cavities suitable for nesting
-or hiding.
-
-Towards the end of February, or in the beginning of March, the female
-lays two, or at most three eggs in the shallow nest-cavity, and begins
-brooding assiduously. The male meantime supplies her with food, not,
-however, making longer expeditions in search of it than are absolutely
-necessary, but spending whatever time he can spare from the work of
-providing for her and himself, sitting, a faithful and attentive
-guardian, on a tree in the neighbourhood, which serves him at once
-as perch and sleeping-place. After about four weeks of brooding, the
-young emerge from the eggs, looking at first like soft balls of wool,
-from which dark eyes peer forth, and a dark bill and very sharp claws
-protrude. Even in their earliest youth the little creatures are as
-pretty as they are self-possessed. Now there is work enough for both
-father and mother. The two take turns in going forth to seek for prey,
-and in mounting guard over the little ones; but it is the mother who
-tends them. The father honestly performs his part in the rearing of
-the brood; but the mother alone is capable of giving them that care
-and attention which may be described as nursing. If she were torn from
-them in the first days of their life, they would perish as surely as
-young mammals robbed of their suckling mother. With her own breast the
-eagle-mother protects them from frost and snow; from her own crop she
-supplies them with warmed, softened, and partly-digested food. The
-eagle-father does not render such nursing services as these, but if the
-mother perish when the young are half-grown, he unhesitatingly takes
-upon himself the task of rearing and feeding them, and often performs
-it with the most self-sacrificing toil. The young eagles grow rapidly.
-In the third week of their existence the upper surface of the body is
-covered with feathers; towards the end of May they are full-grown and
-fully fledged. Then they leave the nest, to prepare, under the guidance
-of their parents, for the business of life.
-
-This is a picture, drawn with hasty strokes, of the life of the eagle,
-which, for the next few days, was the object of our expeditions. No
-fewer than nineteen inhabited eyries were visited by us with varying
-success. Now on foot, now in little boats, now jumping and wading, now
-creeping and gliding, we endeavoured, unseen and unheard, to approach
-the trees bearing the nests; for hours we crouched expectantly beneath
-them in huts hastily built with branches, gazing eagerly up at the
-eagles, which, startled by us or others, were wheeling and circling
-high in the air, and showing no inclination to return to their nests,
-but which we knew must return sometime, and would probably fall victims
-to us. We were able to observe them very accurately and fully, and this
-eagle-hunt gained, therefore, an indescribable charm for us all.
-
-Except for the eagles and other birds of prey which we secured, the
-forests, which looked so promising, proved, or at any rate seemed,
-to be poor in feathered inhabitants. Of course it was early in the
-year, and the stream of migration was still in full flood; nor did we
-succeed in investigating more than the outskirts of the forest. But
-even the number of birds which had returned and taken up their quarters
-on the outskirts of the forest did not come up to our expectations.
-And yet this apparent poverty disappointed me less than the lack of
-good songsters. The song-thrush did indeed pour forth its rich music
-through the woods fragrant with the breath of spring; here and there
-a nightingale sang; the finch warbled its spring greeting everywhere;
-and even a white-throat tried its notes, but none of these satisfied
-our critical ear. All who sang or warbled seemed merely bunglers, not
-masters. And at last we began to feel that real song did not belong
-to those dark woods at all, that the cries of eagles and falcons, the
-hooting of horned owls and screech-owls, the croaking of water-hens
-and terns, the shrill cry of herons and the laughter of woodpeckers,
-the cuckoos’ call and the cooing of stock-doves were the music best
-befitting them, and that, besides these, the only bird that had a right
-to sing was the sedge-warbler, who lived among the reeds and bulrushes,
-and who had borrowed most of his intricate song from the frogs.
-
-On the fourth day we hunted in the Keskender forest, a few miles from
-the banks of the Danube. As we left the forests on the river banks, we
-had to traverse a great plain bounded in the far distance by a chain of
-hills. Our route lay through well-cultivated fields belonging to the
-large estate of Bellye--a model of good management--and we made rapid
-progress on swift horses. Here and there marshy meadows, with pools and
-ditches, a little thicket, large farm-buildings surrounded by gnarled
-oaks, a hamlet, a village, but for the most part treeless fields; this
-was the character of the district through which we hastened. Larks
-innumerable rose singing from the fields; dainty water-wagtails tripped
-about the roads; shrikes and corn-buntings sat on every wayside hedge;
-brooding jackdaws and starlings bustled and clamoured about their nests
-in the crowns of the oaks; above the ponds ospreys were wheeling on the
-outlook for fish, and graceful terns skimmed along in zigzag flight;
-the lapwing busied itself in the marshes. Apart from these, we observed
-very few birds. Even the Keskender wood, a well-kept forest, which we
-reached after two hours’ riding, was poor in species, notwithstanding
-its varied character. There, however, were the nests of spotted-eagles
-and ospreys, short-toed eagles and common buzzards, falcons, owls, and,
-above all, black storks in surprising numbers, and our expedition was
-therefore successful beyond all expectation. And yet the foresters,
-who, in anticipation of the Crown Prince’s visit, had, only a few days
-before, searched the woods and noted the position of the various eyries
-on a hastily constructed map, did not know of nearly all the birds
-of prey and black storks nesting in the forest. “It is like Paradise
-here,” remarked the Crown Prince Rudolf, and these words accurately
-described the relations between men and animals in Hungary. Like the
-Oriental, the Hungarian is happily not possessed by the mania for
-killing which has caused the extreme shyness of the animals, and the
-painfully evident poverty of animal life in Western Europe; he does
-not grudge a home even to the bird of prey which settles on his land,
-and he does not make constant and cruel raids on the animal world,
-which lives and moves about him. Not even the low self-interest which
-at present prompts covetous feather-dealers to make yearly expeditions
-to the marshes of the lower Danube, and which sacrifices hundreds of
-thousands of happy and interesting bird-lives for the sake of their
-feathers, has had power to move the Magyar from his good old customs.
-It may be that indifference to the animal life around him has something
-to do with his hospitality; but the hospitality is there, and it
-has not yet given place to a thirst for persecution. Animals, and
-especially birds, remain quite confidently in the neighbourhood of men;
-they go about their own affairs quite unconcerned as to what men may be
-doing. The eagle has his eyrie by the roadside, the raven nests among
-the trees in the field, the black or wood stork is hardly more shy than
-the sacred house-stork; the deer does not rise from his lair when a
-carriage passes within rifle-range. Verily, it is like Paradise.
-
-But we found a state of paradise elsewhere than in the Keskender
-forest. After we had roamed through the forest in many directions,
-and had visited more than twenty eyries of buzzards and ospreys and
-black storks, and had refreshed and strengthened ourselves with an
-excellent breakfast provided for us, and still more with the delicious
-wine of the district, we set out on our return journey to the ship,
-urged to haste by threatening thunder-clouds, but still hunting and
-collecting as time and opportunity allowed. Our route was different
-from that which we had followed in coming to the forest; it was a good
-high-road connecting a number of villages. We passed through several
-of those, and again the road led us between houses. There was nothing
-remarkable about the buildings, but the people were stranger than my
-fancy could have pictured. The population of Dalyok consists almost
-solely of _Schokazen_ or Catholic Servians, who migrated from the
-Balkan Peninsula, or were brought thither by the Turks, during the
-period of the Turkish supremacy. They are handsome, slender people
-these Schokazen, the men tall and strong, the women at least equal to
-the men, extremely well built and apparently rather pretty. We could
-form a definite opinion with regard to their figures, but, as far as
-their faces were concerned, we had to depend to some extent on our
-own imagination. For the Schokaz women wear a style of dress which
-will hardly be found elsewhere within the boundaries of Europe at the
-present day: a dress which our princely patron, happy as usual in his
-descriptions, called mythological. When I say that head and face were
-almost entirely enveloped in quaintly yet not unpicturesquely wound and
-knotted cloths, and that the skirt was replaced by two gaily-coloured
-apron-like pieces of cloth, not connected with each other, I may leave
-the rest to the most lively imagination without fearing that it will
-be likely to exceed the actual state of things. For my own part I was
-reminded of a camp of Arab nomad herdsmen which I had once seen in the
-primitive forests of Central Africa.
-
-At dusk, under pouring rain, we reached our comfortable vessel. Rain
-fell the following morning also, the whole day was gloomy, and our
-expedition was proportionately disappointing. All this impelled us to
-continue our journey, though we look back gratefully on those pleasant
-days on the Bellye estate, and though it would have been well worth
-while to have observed and collected there a few days longer. With
-warm and well-earned words of praise the Crown Prince bade farewell to
-the officials on the archducal estate; one glance more at the woods
-which had offered us so much, and our swift little vessel steams down
-the Danube again. After a few hours we reach Draueck, the mouth of
-the river Drau, which thenceforward seems to determine the direction
-of the Danube bed. One of the grandest river pictures I have ever
-seen presented itself to our gaze. A vast sheet of water spread out
-before us; towards the south it is bounded by smiling hills, on all
-the other sides by forests, such as we had already seen. Neither the
-course of the main stream nor the bed of its tributary could be made
-out; the whole enormous sheet of water was like an inclosed lake whose
-banks were only visible at the chain of hills above mentioned; for
-through the green vistas of the forest one saw more water, thickets,
-and reed-beds, these last covering the great marsh of Hullo, which
-stretches out in apparently endless extent. Giant tree-trunks, carried
-down by both streams, and only partly submerged, assumed the most
-fantastic shapes; it seemed as if fabled creatures of the primitive
-world reared their scaly bodies above the dark flood. For the “blonde”
-Danube looked dark, almost black, as we sped through the Draueck.
-Grayish-black and dark-blue thunder-clouds hung in the heavens,
-apparently also amidst the hundred-toned green of the forests, and
-over the unvarying faded yellow of the reed-beds; flashes of lightning
-illumined the whole picture vividly; the rain splashed down; the
-thunder rolled; the wind howled through the tops of the tall old
-trees, lashed up the surface of the water, and crowned the dark crests
-of the waves with gray-white foam; but away in the south-east the sun
-had broken through the dark clouds, edged them with purple and gold,
-illumined them so that the black shadows grew yet blacker, and shone
-brightly down on the smiling hills, which lead up to a mountain range
-far away on the horizon. Below and beyond us lay hamlets and villages,
-but, where we were, at most a cone-shaped, reed-covered fisher-hut
-broke the primeval character of the magnificent scene, which, in its
-wildness and in the weird effect of the momentary flashes of light, was
-sublime beyond description.
-
-The scarcity of birds was striking, as indeed was the desolateness of
-the whole sheet of water. Not a gull floated over the mirror of the
-Danube, not a tern winged its zigzag flight up and down; at most a
-few drakes rose from the river. Now and then a common heron, a flight
-of night-herons, an erne, and a few kites, hooded crows and ravens,
-perhaps also a flock of lapwings, and the list of birds which one
-usually sees is exhausted.
-
-From the following day onwards we hunted and explored a wonderful
-district. The blue mountains, upon which lay bright, golden sunlight
-during the thunder-storm of the previous day, are the heights of
-Fruskagora, a wooded hill range of the most delightful kind. Count
-Rudolf Chotek had prepared everything for the fitting reception of our
-Prince, and thus we enjoyed several days which can never be forgotten.
-From the village of Čerewič, on the upper side of which our vessel lay,
-we drove daily through the gorges, climbed the heights on foot or on
-horseback, to return homewards each evening delighted and invigorated.
-The golden May-tide refreshed heart and soul, and our host’s untiring
-attention, complaisance, courtesy, and kindness went far to make the
-days passed at Fruskagora the pleasantest and most valuable part of our
-whole journey.
-
-It was a charming district, about which we roamed every day. Around
-the village was a range of fields; beyond these a girdle of vineyards
-which reach to the very edge of the forest; in the valleys and gorges
-between them the innumerable fruit trees were laden with fragrant
-blossom, which brightened the whole landscape; on the banks, beside
-the road which usually led through the valleys, there was a dense
-growth of bushes, and the refreshing charm of the wealth of blossom was
-enhanced by the murmuring brooks and trickling runlets of water. From
-the first heights we reached the view was surprisingly beautiful. In
-the foreground lay the picturesque village of Čerewič; then the broad
-Danube, with its meadow-forests on the opposite shore; behind these
-stretched the boundless Hungarian plain, exhibiting to the spectator
-its fields and meadows, woods and marshes, villages and market towns in
-an unsteady, changeful light, which gave them a peculiar charm; in the
-east lay the stronghold of Peterwardein. Larks rose singing from the
-fields; the nightingale poured forth its tuneful lay from the bushes;
-the cheery song of the rock-thrush rang down from the vineyards; and
-two species of vulture and three kinds of eagle were describing great
-circles high in the air.
-
-When we had gone a little farther we lost sight of river, villages,
-and fields, and entered one of the secluded forest-valleys. The sides
-of the mountain rise precipitously from it, and, like the ridges
-and slopes, they are densely wooded, though the trees are not very
-tall. Oaks and limes, elms and maples predominate in some places,
-copper-beeches and hornbeams in others; thick, low bushes, which
-shelter many a pair of nightingales, are scattered about the outskirts
-of the forest. No magnificent far-reaching views reward the traveller
-who climbs to the highest ridge to see Hungary lying to the north, and
-Servia to the south; but the mysterious darkness of the forest soothes
-soul and sense. From the main ridge, which is at most 3000 feet in
-height, many chains branch off on either side almost at right angles,
-and have a fine effect from whatever side one looks at them. Among
-them are valleys or enclosed basins whose steep walls make transport
-of felled wood impossible, and which therefore display all the natural
-luxuriance of forest growth. Gigantic beeches, with straight trunks
-smooth up to the spreading crown, rise from amid mouldering leaves
-in which the huntsman sinks to the knee; gnarled oaks raise their
-rugged heads into the air as if to invite the birds of prey to nest
-there; dome-like limes form such a close roof of leaves, that only
-a much-broken reflection of the sun’s rays trembles on the ground.
-In addition to the nightingale, which is everywhere abundant, the
-songsters of this forest are the song-thrush and blackbird, golden
-oriole and red-breast, chaffinch and wood-wren; the cuckoo calls
-its spring greeting from hill to hill; black and green woodpeckers,
-nut-hatches and titmice, ring-doves and stock-doves may be heard in all
-directions.
-
-We had come here chiefly to hunt the largest European bird of prey,
-the black vulture, Fruskagora being apparently the northern boundary
-of its breeding region. The other large European vulture had recently
-appeared in the district, probably attracted by the unfortunate victims
-of the Servian war, and both species brooded here protected by the
-lord of the estate, who was an enthusiastic naturalist. I was already
-acquainted with both these species of vulture, for I had seen them on
-former journeys, but it was a great pleasure to me to observe them in
-their brooding-place, and hear the reports of my fellow-sportsmen and
-of Count Chotek; for on this expedition also our main desire was to
-increase our knowledge of animal life. Here again we were able to make
-a long series of observations, and many aspects of the life of both
-these giant birds, which had hitherto been obscure to us all, were
-cleared up and explained by our investigations.
-
-The crested black vulture, whose range of distribution is not confined
-to the three southern peninsulas of Europe, but extends also through
-West and Central Asia, to India and China, is resident in Fruskagora,
-but after the brooding season he frequently makes long expeditions,
-which bring him regularly to Northern Hungary, and frequently to
-Moravia, Bohemia, and Silesia. His powerful wings enable him to
-undertake such expeditions without the slightest difficulty. Unfettered
-by eggs or helpless young, he flies early in the morning from the tree
-on which he has passed the night, ascends spirally to a height to which
-the human eye unaided cannot follow him, then with his incomparably
-keen, mobile eye, whose focal distance can be rapidly altered, he scans
-the horizon, detects unfailingly even small carrion, and alights to
-devour and digest it, or to store it in his crop. After feeding he
-returns to his accustomed place, or continues his pathless journeying.
-Not only does he carefully scan the land lying beneath him, perhaps
-for many square miles, but he keeps watch on the movements of others
-of his species, or of any large carrion-eating birds, that he may
-profit by their discoveries. Thus only can we explain the sudden and
-simultaneous appearance of several, or even many vultures beside a
-large carcass, even in a region not usually inhabited by these birds.
-They are guided in their search for prey, not by their sense of smell,
-which is dull, but by sight. One flies after another when he sees that
-he has discovered carrion, and his swiftness of flight is so great that
-he can usually be in time to share the feast, if he sees the finder
-circling above his booty. Certainly he must lose no time, for it is
-not for nothing that he and his kin are called “_geier_”; their greed
-beggars description. Within a few minutes three or four vultures will
-stow away the carcass of a sheep or a dog in their crops, leaving
-only the most trifling remains; the meal-time therefore passes with
-incredible rapidity, and whoever arrives late on the scene is doomed to
-disappointment.
-
-The country round Fruskagora yields a good deal more to the vultures
-than an occasional feast of carrion, for in the stomachs of those which
-we shot and dissected we found remains of souslik and large lizards,
-which are scarcely likely to have been found dead, but were more
-probably seized and killed.
-
-On account of the northerly situation of Fruskagora, and the
-well-ordered state of the surrounding country, which is not very
-favourable to vultures, the black vultures were still brooding during
-our visit, though others of the same species, whose haunts were farther
-south, must undoubtedly have had young birds by that time. The eyries
-were placed in the tallest trees, and most of them on the uppermost
-third of the mountain side. Many were quite well known to Count Chotek
-and his game-keepers, for they had been occupied as a brooding-place
-by a pair of vultures, possibly the same pair, for at least twenty
-years, and as they had been added to each year they had assumed very
-considerable proportions. Others seemed of more recent origin, but all
-were apparently the work of the vultures themselves. In the oldest and
-largest of them, a full-grown man could have reclined without his head
-or feet being seen projecting over the edge.
-
-Under these eyries we sat watching, listening to the life and bustle of
-the woods, and waiting in the hope of getting a shot at the vultures
-which our approach had scared away. For four days we went to the
-splendid woods every morning, and never did we return to our vessel
-empty-handed. No fewer than eight large vultures, several eagles, and
-numerous smaller birds fell to our guns, while valuable observations,
-which fascinated us all, added zest and interest to our sport. But
-when the last rays of the sun had disappeared, the younger portion of
-the population assembled about our ship. Violin and bagpipes joined
-in a wonderful but simple melody, and youths and maidens danced the
-rhythmically undulating national round dances in honour of their august
-guest.
-
-After we had hunted successfully on both sides of the Danube, we took
-leave, on the fifth day after our arrival in Čerewič, of our most
-devoted host, the lord of the estates, and continued our journey down
-the river. In three-quarters of an hour we passed Peterwardein, a
-small, antiquated, but picturesquely situated stronghold, and an hour
-and a half later, we reached Carlowitz, near which we spent the night.
-The next morning we reached Kovil, the goal of our journey.
-
-In the neighbourhood of this large village, and girdled by cultivated
-fields, there are woods in which the oak predominates, but which have
-such a dense undergrowth, that notwithstanding the many villages about,
-the wolves and wild-cats lead a threatening but scarcely threatened
-existence in them. It is not to be wondered at, therefore, that birds
-of prey of all kinds, especially sea-eagles, imperial eagles, spotted
-eagles, and booted eagles, “short-toed eagles”, kites, hawks, horned
-and other owls should have chosen them as a nesting-place, and that
-they should also harbour all kinds of small birds. Sure of rich booty
-the Crown Prince and his brother-in-law directed their steps to these
-woods, while Eugen von Homeyer and I tried our luck up-stream beyond
-the village, in a marsh which the flood, then at its height, had
-transformed into a great lake.
-
-[Illustration: Fig. 82.--Nest of the Penduline Titmouse (_Parus
-pendulinus_).]
-
-A surprisingly rich and varied life reigned in this marsh, though
-only a very small fraction of the feathered population could be seen,
-and indeed the tide of migration was still in full flood. Great
-flocks of black terns flew in almost unbroken succession up the
-river, sometimes assembling in compact swarms, sometimes distributing
-themselves over the whole breadth of the flooded Danube; hundreds of
-glossy or dark ibises wandered up and down the stream, flying in the
-usual wedge-shaped order towards or away from the neighbouring river
-Theiss, apparently still in search of suitable nesting-places; purple
-herons, common herons, and squacco herons strode about fishing in all
-accessible parts of the great expanse of water; marsh-barriers flew
-along their accustomed routes carrying long reed-stalks to their nests;
-ducks, mating a second time because the flood had robbed them of their
-eggs, rose noisily from the water on the approach of our small flat
-boat, while grebes and dabchicks dived for safety--in short, every
-part of the vast expanse was peopled. A forester well acquainted with
-all the paths through the submerged wood, awaited us in a house which
-rose above the flood like an island, and acted as our guide through a
-forest-wilderness which far surpassed all that we had hitherto seen,
-for the water had added new obstacles to those always present. Brushing
-past many branches which must usually be high above the ground, often
-stooping beneath boughs which blocked our way, we attempted to find
-a route between half or wholly fallen trees, logs, and drift-wood,
-and to penetrate to the heart of the forest. Brooding mallards, whose
-nests in the tops of the willows had been spared by the flood, did not
-rise on our approach, even though we glided by within a yard of them.
-Eared grebes, which were out on the open water, when they saw us,
-swam sideways into the green thicket of tree-crowns, chiefly willows,
-which rose just above the surface; water-wagtails ran from one piece
-of drift-wood to another; spotted woodpeckers and nut-hatches clung to
-the tree-trunks close to the water, and searched for food as usual. One
-picture of bird-life crowded upon another; but all seemed unfamiliar,
-because altered by the prevailing conditions. To reach a sea-eagle’s
-eyrie we were obliged to wade a long distance; to visit a raven’s nest
-we had to make a wide détour. Hunting in the approved fashion was
-impossible under such circumstances, but our expedition rewarded us
-richly. To me personally it afforded the pleasure of seeing one of the
-best of the feathered architects of Europe, the penduline titmouse,
-at work on its nest, and of observing for the first time its life and
-habits.[88]
-
-The following day our whole company assembled in one of the woods
-already mentioned. A Hungarian forester had made preparations for a
-wolf-drive on a grand scale, but had arranged it so unskilfully that
-Friend Isegrim succeeded in slipping away unperceived. The unpromising
-chase was therefore soon abandoned, and the short time which remained
-to us was devoted to more profitable observation of the bird-life in
-the forest.
-
-In the course of the same afternoon we left Kovil, reached Peterwardein
-the same evening, steamed past Fruskagora early in the night, left the
-vessel once more the following day to hunt in the marsh of Hullo, saw
-there the noble heron which we had until then sought for in vain, but
-were obliged to hurry onwards so as not to miss the fast train for
-Vienna. Gratefully looking back on the days we had spent, and lamenting
-the swiftness with which they had sped, we steamed rapidly past all the
-river forests, which had afforded us so much enjoyment, and, with the
-ardent wish that we might some day return to spend a longer time in it,
-we took leave of this rich and unique country.
-
-
-
-
-NOTES BY THE EDITOR.
-
-
-THE BIRD-BERGS OF LAPLAND.
-
-For other pictures of Arctic Natural History the reader may profitably
-consult the following works:--
-
- Collett, R. _Bird Life in Arctic Norway._ Trans. by A. H. Cocks
- (London, 1894).
-
- Nordenskiöld, A. E. _The Voyage of the “Vega” Round Asia and Europe_,
- with a Historical Review of Previous Journeys along the North Coast of
- the Old World (Trans. by A. Leslie, 2 vols., London, 1881).
-
- Gilder, W. H. _Ice-Pack and Tundra_, an Account of the Search for the
- _Jeanette_, and a Sledge Journey through Siberia (8vo, London, 1883.
- Chiefly personal, not scientific).
-
- Hovgaard, A. _Nordenskiöld’s Voyage Round Asia and Europe_, a Popular
- Account of the North-east Passage of the _Vega_, 1878-80 (Trans. by H.
- L. Brækstad, 8vo, London, 1882).
-
- Pennant’s _Arctic Zoology_ (1785).
-
-Note 1: p. 38.--_Dense masses of fish._
-
-I have consulted a Scandinavian pisciculturist, who, while not
-corroborating the occurrence of such vast multitudes, admitted the
-periodic appearance of dense local swarms, such as are sometimes seen
-in the lochs in the west of Scotland.
-
-Note 2: p. 45.--_The female eider-duck plucking the male._
-
-The popular story of the male eider being made to furnish down for the
-nest, after the mother-bird’s supply is exhausted, must, we fear, be
-regarded as a misstatement. See Newton’s _Dictionary of Birds_ (London,
-1893), and other authoritative works on ornithology. Perhaps the story
-has some basis in the fact that for a short time after the breeding
-season the males undergo a change of plumage, becoming less decorative
-and more like the females.
-
-Note 3: p. 48.--_Economic value of eider-down._
-
-According to Stejneger, each nest yields about an ounce and a third.
-From Greenland and Iceland alone, six thousand pounds, or the contents
-of seventy-two thousand nests, are yearly exported. Nordenskiöld
-notes that the quantity of eider-down brought from the polar lands to
-Tromsöe amounted in 1868 to 540 kilogrammes, in 1869 to 963, in 1870
-to 882, in 1871 to 630, in 1872 to 306, and that the total annual yield
-may be probably estimated at three times as much.
-
-Note 4: p. 57.--_Auks._
-
-A graphic description of the King-auks (_Alle alle_), which breed in
-Spitzbergen, is given by Nordenskiöld in the work above mentioned.
-
-The name auk is oftenest applied only to the razor-bills, but is also
-used collectively for other members of the family Alcidæ, such as
-guillemots and puffins.
-
-Note 5: p. 59.--_Altrices and Præcoces._
-
-Altrices or nidicolæ are those birds which are more or less helpless
-when hatched. They are often blind and naked, and unable to leave the
-nest. The food-yolk has been mostly or wholly used up before birth, and
-the young depend on what their parents bring them. Examples are doves,
-hawks, and passerine birds.
-
-Præcoces or nidifugæ are those birds which are more or less able to run
-about when hatched. They are born with their eyes open, with a covering
-of down, and with much of their yolk still unused. Examples are running
-birds, fowl, gulls, and ducks.
-
-
-THE TUNDRA AND ITS ANIMAL LIFE.
-
-In addition to Nordenskiöld’s voyage, and other works already cited,
-the following may be consulted by those who wish to amplify their
-picture of the Tundra and its life:--
-
- Seebohm. _Siberia in Asia_ (1882).
-
- Jackson, F. G. _The Great Frozen Land_ (Bolshaia Zemelskija Tundra).
- Narrative of a winter journey across the Tundras and a sojourn among
- the Samoyedes (ed. from the author’s journal by A. Montefiore, 8vo,
- London, 1895).
-
-Note 6 and 7: pp. 63 and 71.--_The Tundra._
-
-With Brehm’s picture of the Tundra, it is interesting to compare that
-given by Mr. Seebohm in his address to the Geographical Section of the
-British Association at Nottingham, 1893. (_Scottish Geogr. Magazine_,
-ix. (1893), pp. 505-23, with map.)
-
-“In exposed situations, especially in the higher latitudes, the tundra
-does really merit its American name of Barren Ground, being little
-else than gravel beds interspersed with bare patches of peat or
-clay, and with scarcely a rush or a sedge to break the monotony. In
-Siberia, at least, this is very exceptional. By far the greater part
-of the tundra, both east and west of the Ural Mountains, is a gently
-undulating plain, full of lakes, rivers, swamps, and bogs. The lakes
-are diversified with patches of green water plants, amongst which ducks
-and swans float and dive; the little rivers flow between banks of rush
-and sedge; the swamps are masses of tall rushes and sedges of various
-species, where phalaropes and ruffs breed, and the bogs are brilliant
-with the white fluffy seeds of the cotton-grass. The groundwork of all
-this variegated scenery is more beautiful and varied still--lichens
-and moss of almost every conceivable colour, from the cream-coloured
-reindeer-moss to the scarlet-cupped trumpet-moss, interspersed with a
-brilliant alpine flora, gentians, anemones, saxifrages, and hundreds of
-plants, each a picture in itself, the tall aconites, both the blue and
-yellow species, the beautiful cloudberry, with its gay white blossom
-and amber fruit, the flagrant _Ledum palustre_ and the delicate pink
-_Andromeda polifolia_. In the sheltered valleys and deep water-courses
-a few stunted birches, and sometimes large patches of willow scrub,
-survive the long severe winter, and serve as cover for willow-grouse or
-ptarmigan. The Lapland bunting and red-throated pipit are everywhere
-to be seen, and certain favoured places are the breeding grounds of
-plovers and sandpipers of many species. So far from meriting the name
-of Barren Ground, the tundra is for the most part a veritable paradise
-in summer. But it has one almost fatal drawback--it swarms with
-millions of mosquitoes.”
-
-Note 8: p. 72.--_The Mammoth._
-
-The Mammoth (_Elephas primigenius_) was a near relative of the Indian
-elephant, if not indeed a variety of the same species. One of its
-characteristics was a woolly covering of brownish hair, rudimentary
-traces of which have been found in the Indian species.
-
-It was abundant in Europe before the glacial epoch, and seems to have
-been especially common in Siberia. Lydekker’s _Royal Natural History_
-gives a good account of the finding of the mammoth, and the striking
-fact is noticed that the imports of fossil ivory into England prove
-that, within a period of twenty years, over 20,000 mammoths must have
-been discovered.
-
-As Brehm describes, the carcasses are found frozen in the soil, to
-all appearance just as the animals died, but the explanation of this
-is obscure. The particular case to which he alludes was one of the
-earliest finds--by Adams in 1806. Before Adams reached the carcass,
-which had been known for some years, the dogs of the yakuts had eaten
-most of the flesh.
-
-See also Vogt’s _Natural History of Mammals_.
-
-Note 9: p. 73.--_Colour of the Arctic Fox._
-
-On the interesting question of the winter colour-change, Mr. Poulton’s
-_Colours of Animals_ and Mr. Beddard’s _Animal Coloration_ should be
-consulted.
-
-Note 10: p. 75.--_Reindeer devouring Lemming._
-
-With reference to Brehm’s statement as to reindeer eating lemming,
-I may note a report on creditable authority that in the hard winter
-1894-5 stags in Aberdeenshire were known to have eaten rabbits.
-
-Note 11: p. 76.--_Migration of the Lemming._
-
-A careful discussion of the strange migratory instinct of the lemming
-will be found in the late Mr. Romanes’s _Mental Evolution in Animals_.
-
-Note 12: p. 77.--_Food of the Reindeer._
-
-Though the reindeer may eat grasses and aquatic plants, its great
-resource is the so-called reindeer-moss, which is really a lichen,
-common on the mountain heights of the interior where the herds pass the
-winter.
-
-Note 13: p. 80.--_The Phalarope._
-
-Of the Grey Phalarope (_Phalaropus fulicarius_) and the Red-necked
-Phalarope (_Phalaropus hyperboreus_), both occurring in Britain,
-Professor Newton says: “A more entrancing sight to the ornithologist
-can hardly be presented than by either of these species. Their graceful
-form, their lively coloration, and the confidence with which both
-are familiarly displayed in their breeding-quarters, can hardly be
-exaggerated, and it is equally a delightful sight to watch the birds
-gathering their food in the high--running surf, or, when that is done,
-peacefully floating outside the breakers.” See also Collett’s _Bird
-Life in Arctic Norway_.
-
-Note 14: p. 84.--_Sense of smell and touch._
-
-The somewhat mysterious reference which Brehm makes to a sense between
-smell and touch is thoroughly justifiable. To the senses of many of the
-lower animals--and even of fishes--it is exceedingly difficult to apply
-our fairly definite human conceptions of smell, taste, touch, &c.
-
-Note 15: p. 85.--_Mosquitoes._
-
-This general term covers a large number of species belonging to the
-gnat genus (_Culex_). They are very various in size, and are widely
-distributed from the Tropics to the Poles. Their larvæ are aquatic, and
-for their abundance the tundra obviously offers every opportunity.
-
-
-THE ASIATIC STEPPES AND THEIR FAUNA.
-
- See--
-
- Bovalet, G. _Through the Heart of Asia_ (trans. by C. B. Pitman, 2
- vols, London, 1889).
-
- Jackson, F. G. _The Great Frozen Land_, cited above.
-
-Note 16: p. 91.--_Flora of the steppe._
-
-According to Seebohm (_op. cit._), “The cause of the treeless condition
-of the steppes or prairies has given rise to much controversy. My own
-experience in Siberia convinced me that the forests were rocky, and the
-steppes covered with a deep layer of loose earth, and I came to the
-conclusion that on the rocky ground the roots of the trees were able to
-establish themselves firmly, so as to defy the strongest gales, which
-tore them up when they were planted in loose soil. Other travellers
-have formed other opinions. Some suppose that the prairies were once
-covered with trees, which have been gradually destroyed by fires.
-Others suggest that the earth on the treeless plains contains too much
-salt or too little organic matter to be favourable to the growth of
-trees. No one, so far as I know, has suggested a climatic explanation
-of the circumstances. Want of drainage may produce a swamp, and the
-deficiency of rainfall may cause a desert, both conditions being fatal
-to forest growth, but no one can mistake either of these treeless
-districts for a steppe or a prairie.” See also for general description
-of steppe vegetation Kerner’s _Plant Life_ and Wiesner’s _Biologic der
-Pflanzen_.
-
-Note 17: p. 97.--_The Quagga._
-
-The true quagga (_Equus quagga_), intermediate between zebras and
-asses, is no longer known to exist, though it was described by Sir
-Cornwallis Harris in 1839 as occurring in immense herds. The name
-quagga is given by the Boers to Burchell’s zebra (_Equus burchelli_).
-
-The same sad fact of approaching extermination must be noted in regard
-to not a few noble animals, _e.g._ rhinoceros, hippopotamus, and
-giraffe.
-
-Selous writes in 1893: “To the best of my belief, the great white or
-square-mouthed rhinoceros (_Rhinoceros simus_), the largest of modern
-terrestrial mammals after the elephant, will, in the course of the next
-few years, become absolutely extinct. Yet, twenty years ago, it was
-a common animal over an enormous extent of country in Central South
-Africa.
-
-“Never again will the traveller be able to stand upon his wagon-box,
-and, like Burchell, Andrew Smith, Cornwallis Harris, and Gordon
-Cumming, scan plains literally darkened by thousands upon thousands of
-wildebeests, quaggas, Burchell’s zebras, blesboks, hartebeests, and
-spring-boks.”
-
-Note 18: p. 97.--_The Buffalo._
-
-The American bison or buffalo (_Bos americanus_) is now practically
-exterminated.
-
-Two sentences from _An Introduction to the Study of Mammals_, by Sir
-W. H. Flower and Mr. R. Lydekker (London, 1891), put the case in a
-nutshell.
-
-“The multitudes in which the American bison formerly existed are almost
-incredible; the prairies being absolutely black with them as far as the
-eye could reach, the numbers in the herds being reckoned by millions.”
-
-With the completion of the Kansas Branch of the Pacific Railway in
-1871, the extraordinarily careless and ruthless slaughter began. In
-less than ten years bison-shooting ceased to be profitable.
-
-And now, “A herd of some two hundred wild individuals derived from the
-northern herd is preserved in the Yellowstone National Park; and it
-is believed that some five hundred of the race, known as Wood-Bison,
-exist in British territory; _but with these exceptions this magnificent
-species is exterminated_”.
-
-A vivid account of the buffalo’s habits and of its rapid tragic
-extermination will be found in Mr. Grinell’s essay “In Buffalo Days”
-in _American Big-Game Hunting_ (Boone and Crockett Club), edited by Th.
-Roosevelt and G. B. Grinell, Edinburgh, 1893.
-
-See also Hornaday, _The Extirpation of the American Bison_, 1889, and
-a monograph by J. A. Allen, “The American Bisons, Living and Extinct”:
-_Memoirs of the Museum of Comparative Zoology_, Harvard, vol. iv., 1876.
-
-Note 19: p. 102.--_Fighting-ruffs._
-
-The ruff (_Machetes pugnax_) is in many ways a most interesting bird.
-Thus, there is the rapid change of plumage, as the result of which the
-male acquires his characteristic frill or ruff before the breeding
-season. The indefatigable pugnacity of the males, the efficacy of
-their shield, their assiduous polygamous courtship, their subsequent
-carelessness as to the fate of the reeve and her young, and their
-extraordinary “polymorphism”, are very remarkable. While the individual
-peculiarities of plumage are very marked, each ruff is true season
-after season to its own idiosyncrasy. Visitors to the National Museum
-of Natural History in London will remember a beautiful case of ruffs in
-the Entrance Hall.
-
-Note 20: p. 103.--_Sky-goat._
-
-Bleating of snipe. There has been much discussion as to the origin of
-the peculiar drumming or bleating sound made by the snipe, to which it
-owes its Scotch name of “heather-bleater”, but many at least agree with
-Brehm.
-
-Note 21: p. 106.--_Sand-grouse._
-
-Sand-grouse (_Pterocles_ and _Syrrhaptes_), a group of birds quite
-distinct from the grouse. One species, _Syrrhaptes paradoxus_, “ranging
-from Northern China across Central Asia to the confines of Europe”,
-has shown a tendency to extensive migration, visiting Britain, for
-instance, in 1859, 1863, 1872, 1876, and abundantly in 1888. For a
-concise account of these irregular invasions see Newton’s _Dictionary
-of Birds_.
-
-Note 22: p. 107.--_Yurt._
-
-According to Radloff “jurte” or “yurt” is a general name for a more or
-less transportable rough hut made of stakes, felt, bark, and the like,
-varying slightly in construction in different districts. The ring to
-which Brehm here refers is probably that through which the upper ends
-of the converging stakes are thrust.
-
-Note 23: p. 109.--_The Jerboa._
-
-The rodent here referred to is the Kirghiz jerboa (_Alactaga
-decumana_). What Brehm says as to its eating eggs and young birds is
-confirmed by others.
-
-Note 24: p. 115.--_The Sand-grouse or Steppe-grouse._
-
-Pallas’s Sand-grouse (_Syrrhaptes paradoxus_), see note 21.
-
-Note 25: p. 115--_Ancestry of the horse._
-
-See Sir W. H. Flower’s little book on _The Horse_ (Modern Science
-Series). The kulan or kiang is rather a wild ass than a wild horse,
-and the balance of evidence in favour of regarding the Tarpan as in
-the line of ancestry is greater than Brehm indicates. Flower suggests
-that Przewalski’s horse, discovered some years ago in Central Asia, and
-looked upon as a distinct species, may be a hybrid between the kiang
-and the tarpan.
-
-Note 26: p. 116.--_Ancestors of the cat and the goat._
-
-It is very generally believed that our domestic cat is descended from
-the sacred Egyptian or Caffre cat (_Felis caffra_). See St. George
-Mivart’s monograph on the cat. Similarly, the breeds of domestic goat
-are often referred to the Pasang or _Capra ægagrus_, found in Crete,
-Asia Minor, Persia, &c. See a vivid essay by Buxton in his _Short
-Stalks_, entitled “The Father of all the Goats”.
-
-Note 27: p. 116.--_Wild camels._
-
-An interesting note on wild camels in Spain--a strayed herd--is to be
-found in _Wild Spain_ by Chapman and Buck. St. George Littledale has
-recently discussed (_Proc. Zoological Society_, 1894) the question
-whether the camels of Lob-nor, on the slope of Altyn Tag, are remains
-of a wild stock or strayed. No wild dromedaries are known, and the same
-is probably true of camels.
-
-
-THE FORESTS AND SPORT OF SIBERIA.
-
-See also--
-
- W. Radloff, _Aus Sibirien_, 2 vols., Leipzig, 1884.
-
- A. Th. von Middendorf, _Voyage dans l’extrême Nord et dams l’est de la
- Sibérie_ (_St. Petersburg_, 1848).
-
-Note 28: p. 123.--_The Life of the Forest._
-
-With Brehm’s description of this minor forest, the reader should
-compare that which Stanley gives of “The Great Central African Forest”
-(chap. xxiii. of 2nd vol. of _In Darkest Africa_). He computes the size
-of the main mass at 321,057 square miles. A few sentences from his
-description may be quoted.
-
-“Imagine the whole of France and the Iberian peninsula closely packed
-with trees varying from 20 to 180 feet high, whose crowns of foliage
-interlace and prevent any view of sky and sun, and each tree from a
-few inches to four feet in diameter. Then from tree to tree run cables
-from two inches to fifteen inches in diameter, up and down in loops
-and festoons and W’s and badly-formed M’s; fold them round the trees
-in great tight coils, until they have run up the entire height like
-endless anacondas; let them flower and leaf luxuriantly, and mix up
-above with the foliage of the trees to hide the sun, then from the
-highest branches let fall the ends of the cables reaching near to the
-ground by hundreds with frayed extremities, for these represent the air
-roots of the epiphytes; let slender cords hang down also in tassels
-with open threadwork at the ends. Work others through and through
-as confusedly as possible, and pendent from branch to branch--with
-absolute disregard of material, and at every fork and on every
-horizontal branch plant cabbage-like lichens of the largest kind, and
-broad spear-leaved plants--these would represent the elephant-eared
-plant--and orchids and clusters of vegetable marvels, and a drapery of
-delicate ferns which abound. Now cover tree, branch, twig, and creeper
-with a thick moss like a green fur.”
-
-He goes on to describe the rush of life to fill up each gap--the
-struggle for existence--the crowding, crushing, and strangling--the
-death and disease.
-
-“To complete the mental picture of this ruthless forest, the ground
-should be strewn thickly with half-formed humus of rotting twigs,
-leaves, branches; every few yards there should be a prostrate giant, a
-reeking compost of rotten fibres, and departed generations of insects,
-and colonies of ants, half veiled with masses of vines and shrouded
-by the leafage of a multitude of baby saplings, lengthy briars and
-calamus in many fathom lengths, and every mile or so there should be
-muddy streams, stagnant creeks, and shallow pools, green with duckweed,
-leaves of lotus and lilies, and a greasy green scum composed of
-millions of finite growths.”
-
-Note 29: p. 126.--_Appearance of Decay in the Forests._
-
-A closely similar picture is given by Mr. E. N. Buxton in recounting
-a journey in the Rocky Mountains. He says: “This bane of pack-trains
-is caused by forest fires, which have burnt out the life of the trees,
-leaving only gaunt stems and blackened ground, followed by tempests
-which have whirled these tottering giants in heaps to the ground. In
-places the stems lie parallel to one another, and piled to the height
-of many feet as though they had been laid in sheaves. Elsewhere, while
-some have stood the shock and are still erect, their neighbours lie
-prone at every conceivable angle to one another, and their branches
-pierce the air as weathered snags. This ghastly waste, whether brought
-about by natural causes, or the recklessness of man, will have to be
-paid for some day, for are we not within measurable distance of the
-inevitable world-wide timber-famine” (E. N. Buxton, _Short Stalks_,
-1893).
-
-See also Rodway’s _In the Guiana Forest_ (London, 1895), and article
-“Death in the Forest” (_Natural Science_, Sept., 1892).
-
-Note 30: p. 129.--_Taiga._
-
-“A strip of Alpine region, 100-150 miles in breadth, consisting of
-separate mountain-chains whose peaks rise from 4800-6500 feet above
-sea-level, and beyond the limits of forest vegetation.” According to
-Radloff, the name _taiga_ is also generally applied by the Kalmucks to
-wooded and rocky mountain-land.
-
-Note 31: p. 135.--_Extermination of the Beaver._
-
-Mr. Martin, in his eulogy of the beaver (_Castorologia_, 1892),
-describes the rapid diminution of numbers in Canada, largely as the
-result of careless greed, but also through the spread of colonisation.
-He believes that by the end of the century, none will be found except
-in museums. Their rarity in Europe is well known.
-
-Note 32: p. 136.--_Export of skins._
-
-Radloff notes, in 1884, that the yearly sale of furs at the Irbitsch
-fair amounts to between three and four millions of roubles.
-
-Note 33: p. 144.--_Velvet of antlers._
-
-An account of the various ways in which pounded antlers and the
-vascular velvet were once used in medicine will be found in Prof. W.
-Marshall’s recent _Arzenei-Kästlein_, Leipzig, 1894.
-
-Note 34: p. 147.--_The Elk._
-
-The elk (_Alces machlis_) is the largest of the land animals of Europe,
-and is the same as the “moose” of Canada.
-
-Note 35: p. 150.--_Rouble._
-
-This varies from 3_s._ 8_d._ to 3_s._ 10_d._, but is usually reckoned
-as 4_s._ Of the kopeks, afterwards referred to, a hundred go to the
-rouble.
-
-Note 36: p. 161.--_Brick Tea._
-
-Broken or powdered tea-leaves mixed with the blood of the sheep or ox,
-and formed into cakes. Other fragrant leaves are sometimes added.
-
-Note 37: p. 165.--_The Bear rearing her cubs._
-
-I have been unable to find any corroboration of this story as to the
-she-bear employing her children of a former year as nurses.
-
-
-THE STEPPES OF INNER AFRICA.
-
- See--
-
- Selous, F. C. _Travel and Adventure in South-East Africa_ (1893).
-
- Solymos, B. (B. E. Falkenberg). _Desert Life: Recollections of an
- Expedition in the Soudan._ London, 1880.
-
- Foà, E. _Mes grandes Chasses dans l’Afrique Centrale._ Paris, 1895.
-
- Lichtenstein, M. H. K. _Reise im Südlichen Africa._ Berlin, 1812.
-
- G. Schweinfurth. _The Heart of Africa._
-
- J. Thomson. _Through Masai Land._
-
- _Emin Pasha in Central Africa._ Edited by Schweinfurth, Ratzel,
- Felkin, and Hartlaub. London, 1885.
-
- Also well-known works by Livingstone, Stanley, &c.
-
-Note 38: p. 170.--_Heat in the Desert._
-
-50° Celsius, or Centigrade = 122° Fahrenheit. Temperatures of 121°,
-122°, 133° Fahr., and so on, have been repeatedly recorded in the
-desert. Solymos, in his _Desert Life_, notes 115° Fahr. in the shade as
-the maximum for his year. He also calls attention to the frost and ice!
-“Duveyrier registered frost twenty-six times between December and March
-in the plains of the Central Sahara.” His picture of the desert-well is
-much less optimistic than Brehm’s.
-
-Note 39: p. 173.--_The Termites._
-
-Termites or “white ants” are very characteristic, wood-eating insects
-of tropical Africa and other warm countries. Though not related to the
-true ants, they have somewhat similar social organizations.
-
-The reader will be rewarded who turns to Prof. Henry Drummond’s
-_Tropical Africa_, where there is not only a graphic description of
-the ways of the termites, but an interesting theory of their possible
-agricultural importance. As they avoid the light, and travel on the
-trees only under cover of their tunnels of finely-comminuted and
-cemented earth, they must be continually pulverizing the soil. When
-rain-storms come this fine dust is washed from the trees, and some of
-it may go to swell the alluvium of distant valleys. Hence the termite
-may be, like the earthworm, a soil-maker of considerable importance.
-Mr. H. A. Bryden, in his _Gun and Camera in Southern Africa_ (London,
-1893), writes as follows of the termites: “Our cases, portmanteaus,
-&c., were arranged round, but not touching the walls. Every article
-reposed on glass bottles, as the only known protection against the
-depredations of white ants.... They will eat large holes in a thick
-tweed coat in one night, and anything softer than metal left to their
-tender mercies for a night or two is irretrievably ruined.... If the
-huts are inspected every few days, the tunnels of self-made mortar
-can be swept away, and the depredator kept at all events to the
-flooring.... Most housewives have, at least once a year, to institute a
-crusade against the marauders, dig up the flooring, and attempt to find
-the queen. If the queen-ant can be successfully located and dug up, the
-nuisance is ended; the rest of the ants, bereft of their sovereign, at
-once quit the building, and for a season trouble no more.... In the
-forests to the north and west the mischief done by these insects is
-enormous. The tree is attacked, the tunnels are run up along the bole,
-the wood is pierced and riddled, and the work of destruction is soon
-completed.”
-
-There is, however, a lack of precise observation as to the extent to
-which termites attack trees which are altogether sound and living. In
-great measure they merely hasten and complete a destruction for whose
-initiation they are not responsible.
-
-Note 40: p. 173.--_Summer Sleep._
-
-Summer-sleep in torrid regions, affecting a few fishes, amphibians, and
-reptiles, is a phenomenon analogous to hibernation elsewhere, but its
-physiological explanation is even more obscure.
-
-Note 41: p. 174.--_The Karroo._
-
-Karroo, a general name for the highland steppes of South Africa. See H.
-A. Bryden’s _Kloof and Karroo_ (1889).
-
-Note 42: p. 178.--Cerastes (_Vipera hasselquistii_).
-
-The horned viper is the most common viper of Northern Africa. It is
-extremely poisonous. It is of a brownish-white colour with darker
-markings, and has a scaly spine or horn over each eye. This species is
-usually supposed to have been Cleopatra’s asp.
-
-Note 43: p. 182. See Note 39.
-
-Note 44: p. 183.--_The mud-fish._
-
-This remarkable animal (_Protopterus_) is one of the Double-breathers
-or Dipnoi, a member of a small class between Fishes and Amphibians,
-represented by three genera--_Ceratodus_ in Queensland, _Lepidosiren_
-in Brazil, and this _Protopterus_ in Africa. They differ in many ways
-from other fishes, being physiologically intermediate between Fishes
-and Amphibians. Hundreds of specimens have been brought within their
-‘nests’ from Africa to Europe. Brehm speaks of the complete enclosure
-of the capsule, but this is now known to communicate with the outer
-world by a tubular passage through the mud. At the foot of this tube
-the mud-fish keeps his nostrils. The lung is a specialization of the
-swim-bladder which is present in most fishes.
-
-Note 45: p. 184.--_The Royal Aspis or Uräus._
-
-The Uräus snake or Aspis is the well-known Egyptian jugglers’ snake
-(_Naja haje_). It may be over six feet in length, and is very deadly.
-
-Note 46: p. 185.--_Spitting poison._
-
-The poison of a snake is contained in the secretion of a specialized
-salivary gland. The compression of this venom gland propels the fluid
-along a duct which leads to the groove or canal of the fang. Infection
-with the venom only occurs when, by more or less of a bite, the poison
-is injected into the victim. No spitting of poison is known, nor would
-it have effect without a wound.
-
-Note 47: p. 186.--_The Gecko._
-
-Figures and a brief description of the gecko’s clinging foot will be
-found in Semper’s well-known _Animal Life_ (International Science
-Series, 1881). The clinging power is due to numerous long bristle-like
-hairs on the sole of the foot. These appear to be modifications of the
-“casting-hairs” which are used in “skin-casting”.
-
-Note 48: p. 191.--_Dance of Ostrich._
-
-A vivid picture of the Ostrich dance will be found in Prof. Lloyd
-Morgan’s _Animal Sketches_ (1892).
-
-Note 49: p. 192.--_Ostrich._
-
-Prof. Newton, in his _Dictionary of Birds_, notes that Ostriches,
-though sometimes assembling in troops of 30-50, commonly live in
-companies of four or five--one cock and the rest hens. This is
-especially true at the breeding season. All the hens lay together; the
-cock broods during the night; the hens take turns during the day, more,
-it would seem, to guard their common treasure from jackals and small
-beasts of prey than directly to forward the process of hatching, for
-that is often left wholly to the sun. Some thirty eggs are laid in the
-nest, and round it are scattered perhaps as many more, which are said
-to be used as food for the newly-hatched chicks.
-
-Compare works cited in that article: M. H. K. Lichtenstein, _Reise
-im südlichen Africa_ (Berlin, 1812); Fursch and Hartlaub, _Vögel Ost
-Afrikas_; De Mosenthal and Harting, _Ostrich and Ostrich Farming_;
-also, Mrs. Martin, _Home Life on an Ostrich Farm_.
-
-Note 50: p. 193.--_Primaries and Secondaries._
-
-Primary feathers are the longer quill-feathers of the wing, and are
-borne by the ‘hand’ of the bird; the secondaries are the quill-feathers
-higher up, borne by the ulna of the arm.
-
-
-THE PRIMEVAL FORESTS OF CENTRAL AFRICA.
-
-Note 51: p. 220.--_Hornbills._
-
-Members of the family Bucerotidæ, including some 60 species whose
-generic arrangement is uncertain. Of their habits Prof. Newton says:
-“They breed in holes of trees, laying large white eggs, and when the
-hen begins to sit, the cock plasters up the entrance with mud or
-clay, leaving only a small window, through which she receives the
-food he brings her during her voluntary imprisonment”. He notes Mr.
-Bartlett’s discovery, confirmed by others, that the hornbills cast out
-at intervals the lining of their gizzard in the form of a bag, which is
-filled with the fruit that the bird has been eating, and asks whether
-“these castings are really intended to form the hen-bird’s food during
-her confinement”.
-
-Note 52: p. 221.--_Umber- or Umbre-bird._
-
-This bird, whose name refers to the earthy-brown colour, is the
-Hammer-head or _Scopus umbretta_ of ornithologists. Of the nest, Prof.
-Newton says that “it is occasionally some six feet in diameter, a mass
-of sticks, roots, grass, and rushes compactly piled together, with a
-flat-topped roof, the interior being neatly lined with clay, and a hole
-of entrance and exit”. It may be of interest to compare its nest with
-that of the South American Oven-birds (_Furnarius_, &c.).
-
-Note 53: p. 221.--_Doves beside falcons._
-
-Those interested in the facts of nature which suggest the danger
-of exaggerating the Darwinian idea of the struggle for existence
-should consult two articles by Kropotkine, entitled “Mutual Aid Among
-Animals”, in the _Nineteenth Century_, 1889. Kropotkine cites from Dr.
-Coues, an American ornithologist, an observation in regard to some
-little cliff swallows which nested quite near the home of a prairie
-falcon. “The little peaceful birds had no fear of their rapacious
-neighbour; they did not let it even approach to their colony. They
-immediately surrounded it and chased it, so that it had to make off at
-once.”
-
-Note 54: p. 223.--_And they know that this is so._
-
-Brehm suggests here and elsewhere what it would be difficult to prove,
-that animals which have unconsciously acquired protective colouring,
-and which instinctively crouch or lie still instead of trying to escape
-by flight, are aware of their adaptation to concealment. There seem to
-be but few cases which give countenance to this supposition.
-
-Note 55: p. 227.--_Crocodile Bird._
-
-This is usually regarded as _Pluvianus_ or _Hyas ægyptius_--one of the
-“plovers” in the wide sense. Professor Newton observes, however, in a
-note to the article “Plover” in his _Dictionary of Birds_ that there
-is not perfect unanimity on the matter, as some have supposed that
-the “crocodile bird” was a lapwing--_Hoplopterus spinosus_. But the
-elder Geoffroy St. Hilaire and Brehm, who both saw the bird enter the
-reptile’s mouth, regarded it as _Pluvianus ægyptius_.
-
-Dr. Leith Adams notes (1870) that the crocodile is now rarely seen
-below Beni Hassan, and is evidently receding everywhere below the
-second cataract. Both Herodotus and Strabo speak of its domestication,
-and it is tamed at the present day by certain religious sects in India.
-On the lower Nile it is shy and difficult even to shoot.
-
-“A sail, or the smoke and noise of a steamboat, suffice to warn the
-crocodiles basking on the sand-banks, or their common companions,
-the black-headed and spur-winged plovers (_Pluvianus ægyptius_ and
-_Hoplopterus spinosus_), which are frequently seen perched on their
-backs, and always prepared to give timely warning of approaching
-danger, just as the Father of History noticed them 2300 years ago,
-and, strange to say, his well-known story is current among the modern
-Egyptians, who, as usual, have put a tail to the narrative. They say,
-that in addition to its office of leech-catcher to the crocodile, it
-occasionally does happen that the zic-zac--so called from its note of
-alarm--in searching for the leeches, finds its way into the reptile’s
-mouth when the latter is basking on a sand-bank, where it lies
-generally with the jaws wide apart. Now this is possible and likely
-enough, but the captain of our boat added, that occasionally the
-crocodile falls asleep, when the jaws suddenly fall, and the zic-zac is
-shut up in the mouth, when it immediately prods the crocodile with its
-horny spurs, as if refreshing the memory of his reptilian majesty, who
-opens his jaws and sets his favourite leech-catcher at liberty” (Leith
-Adams).
-
-
-MIGRATIONS OF MAMMALS.
-
-Note 56: p. 237.--_Rats._
-
-The brown rat (_Mus decumanus_) is much stronger than the black rat
-(_Mus rattus_), and gains an easy victory. The rivalry between the two
-species is one of the examples Darwin gives of his generalization that
-the struggle for existence is most severe between allied forms, and
-there seems no doubt that the brown rat has often ousted and will even
-devour the black rat. The latter is now rare in Britain. It should be
-noted, however, (1) that the two species are said sometimes to live
-together on board ship, (2) that cases have been recorded where the
-black rat returned and defeated its conquerors, and (3) that the black
-rat keeps more about houses, stables, and barns, is therefore more
-readily exterminated by man, whose efforts were doubtless increased
-when a second species appeared on the scene. The case is of some
-importance in connection with the generalization referred to above.
-
-Note 57: p. 240.--_Migrations of Reindeer._
-
-Of the reindeer in Spitzbergen, Nordenskiöld writes:--“During the
-summer it betakes itself to the grassy plains in the ice-free valleys
-of the island; in the late autumn it withdraws--according to the
-walrus-hunter’s statements--to the sea-coast, in order to eat the
-seaweed that is thrown up on the beach. In winter it goes back to the
-lichen-clad mountain heights in the interior of the country, where it
-appears to thrive exceedingly well, though the cold during winter must
-be excessively severe; for when the reindeer in spring return to the
-coast they are still very fat, but some weeks afterwards, when the
-snow has frozen on the surface, and a crust of ice makes it difficult
-for them to get at the mountain sides, they become so poor as to be
-scarcely eatable. In summer, however, they speedily eat themselves back
-into condition, and in autumn they are so fat that they would certainly
-take prizes at an exhibition of fat cattle.”
-
-Wrangel describes migrations of thousands of reindeer in Eastern
-Siberia moving from the mountains to the forests, where they winter.
-He mentions his guide’s assertion that each body is led by a female of
-large size.
-
-Perhaps we may take the liberty of quoting, with a tribute of
-admiration, Mr. F. Marion Crawford’s eloquent description of a wild
-rush of reindeer from the inland country to the shore. We confess to
-incredulity in regard to the reindeer’s longing to drink of the Polar
-Sea, but the splendid vividness of the description may excuse some
-slight inaccuracy.
-
-“In the distant northern plains, a hundred miles from the sea, in the
-midst of the Laplander’s village, a young reindeer raises his broad
-muzzle to the north wind, and stares at the limitless distance while a
-man may count a hundred. He grows restless from that moment, but he is
-yet alone. The next day a dozen of the herd look up from the cropping
-of the moss, sniffing the breeze. Then the Laps nod to one another and
-the camp grows daily more unquiet. At times the whole herd of young
-deer stand at gaze, as it were, breathing hard through wide nostrils,
-then jostling each other and stamping the soft ground. They grow
-unruly, and it is hard to harness them in the light sledge. As the days
-pass, the Laps watch them more and more closely, well knowing what will
-happen sooner or later, and then at last, in the northern twilight, the
-great herd begins to move. The impulse is simultaneous, irresistible,
-their heads are all turned in one direction. They move slowly at
-first, biting still, here and there, at the rich moss. Presently the
-slow step becomes a trot, they crowd closely together, while the Laps
-hasten to gather up their last unpacked possessions--their cooking
-utensils and their wooden gods. The great herd break together from
-a trot to a gallop, from a gallop to a breakneck race, the distant
-thunder of their united tread reaches the camp during a few minutes,
-and they are gone to drink of the Polar Sea. The Laps follow after
-them, dragging painfully their laden sledges in the broad track left
-by the thousands of galloping beasts--a day’s journey, and they are
-yet far from the sea, and the trail is yet broad. On the second day it
-grows narrower, and there are stains of blood to be seen; far on the
-distant plain before them their sharp eyes distinguish in the direct
-line a dark motionless object, another, and another. The race has grown
-more desperate and more wild as the stampede neared the sea. The weaker
-reindeer have been thrown down and trampled to death by their stronger
-fellows. A thousand sharp hoofs have crushed and cut through hide and
-flesh and bone. Ever swifter and more terrible in their motion, the
-ruthless herd has raced onward, careless of the slain, careless of
-food, careless of any drink but the sharp salt water ahead of them.
-And when at last the Laplanders reach the shore their deer are once
-more quietly grazing, once more tame and docile, once more ready to
-drag the sledge whithersoever they are guided. Once in his life the
-reindeer must taste of the sea in one long, satisfying draught, and if
-he is hindered he perishes. Neither man nor beast dare stand before him
-in the hundred miles of his arrow-like path.”--_A Cigarette-Maker’s
-Romance_, vol. ii. pp. 23-25.
-
-Note 58: p. 241.--_Migrations of Bisons._
-
-In regard to the migration of the bison or buffalo, Mr. G. B. Grinnell
-writes:--“It was once thought that the buffalo performed annually
-extensive migrations, and it was even said that those which spent
-the summer on the banks of the Saskatchewan wintered in Texas. There
-is no reason for believing this to have been true. Undoubtedly there
-were slight general movements north and south, and east and west,
-at certain seasons of the year; but many of the accounts of these
-movements are entirely misleading, because grossly exaggerated. In
-one portion of the northern country I know that there was a decided
-east-and-west seasonal migration, the herds tending in spring away from
-the mountains, while in the autumn they worked back again, seeking
-shelter in the rough, broken country of the foot-hills from the cold
-west winds of the winter.”--_American Big-Game Hunting_ (Boone and
-Crockett Club), edited by Theodore Roosevelt and George Bird Grinnell,
-Edin., 1893.
-
-Note 59: p. 250.--_Migrations of Seals._
-
-Much interesting information as to the migrations and habits of seals
-will be found in J. A. Allen’s _History of North American Pinnipedia_.
-The eared fur-seals (_Otaria_) and others travel periodically to the
-breeding-places or “rookeries”, where they spend a considerable time,
-but it should be noted that our common seal (_Phoca vitulina_) does not
-make seasonal migrations.
-
-Note 60: p. 256.--_Instinct of the Lemming._
-
-A discussion of the strange instinct of the lemming, remarkable in its
-apparent fatality, will be found in Romanes’s _Mental Evolution in
-Animals_.
-
-Note 61: p. 258.--_Numbers of Springbok._
-
-“I beheld the plains and even the hillsides which stretched on every
-side of me thickly covered, not with herds, but with one vast mass of
-springboks; as far as the eye could strain the landscape was alive with
-them, until they softened down into a dim red mass of living creatures.
-To endeavour to form any idea of the number of antelopes which I had
-that day beheld were vain, but I have no hesitation in saying that some
-hundreds of thousands were within the compass of my vision.”--_Gordon
-Cumming._ With this should be compared what other sportsmen and
-travellers have in recent years told us of rapidly diminishing numbers.
-
-Note 62: p. 260.--_The Monkey Question._
-
-The position of evolutionists in regard to the relations of man and
-monkeys is conveniently stated in Huxley’s _Man’s Place in Nature_.
-A criticism of the thorough-going evolutionist position, from the
-philosopher’s point of view, will be found in Professor Calderwood’s
-_Evolution and Man’s Place in Nature_. A midway position is indicated
-in Wallace’s _Darwinism_.
-
-While most naturalists are now thoroughly evolutionist in regard to the
-descent or ascent of man, as in regard to other problems, most would
-probably agree with Lloyd Morgan’s cautious conclusion:--
-
-“In denying to animals the perception of relations and the faculty
-of reason, I do so in no dogmatic spirit, and not in support of any
-preconceived theory or opinion, but because the evidence now before us
-is not, in my opinion, sufficient to justify the hypothesis that any
-animals have reached that stage of mental evolution at which they are
-even incipiently rational.”
-
-Probably all naturalists allow that animals who profit by experience
-and adapt their actions to varying circumstances are _intelligent_.
-But cases which force us to credit animals with general ideas, with
-“thinking the therefore”, in short, with reason, are admitted by few.
-
-
-LOVE AND COURTSHIP AMONG BIRDS.
-
-While admiring the vigorous protest which Brehm makes in this chapter
-against the interpretation which regards animals as automata, I
-feel that he has hardly done justice to it. In general terms, the
-interpretation is that animals act as they do in virtue of an inherited
-organic mechanism which responds in a uniform manner to certain
-stimuli. That this is true of many animal and even human actions,
-especially in early youth, seems highly probable. That it only covers
-a small fraction of animal behaviour is certain. But even those who go
-furthest in extending the scope of animal automatism, do not say that
-an automatic act may not be accompanied by consciousness, they only say
-that it is not _controlled_ by consciousness. See Huxley, _Are Animals
-automata?_ in his collected Essays: and Lloyd Morgan, _Introduction to
-Comparative Psychology_.
-
-Note 63: p. 272.--_Sexual Selection._
-
-For a statement of the doctrine of sexual selection, the original
-document--Darwin’s _Descent of Man_--should be consulted. But the
-theory has met with strong criticism, _e.g._ on the part of Alfred
-Russel Wallace, see his _Darwinism_. See also _The Evolution of
-Sex_, by Geddes and Thomson, and Lloyd Morgan’s _Animal Life and
-Intelligence_.
-
-Note 64: p. 279.--_Polygamous Birds._
-
-Darwin has discussed the question of polygamous birds in his _Descent
-of Man_.
-
-Note 65: p. 281.--_The Widowed Bird._
-
-For one of the finest expressions in literature of the possible
-emotions of the widowed bird, we may be allowed to refer to Walt
-Whitman’s “Out of the cradle endlessly rocking” (_Leaves of Grass_).
-
-
-APES AND MONKEYS.
-
-Note 66: p. 285.--_Descent from Monkeys._
-
-Hanumân, the sacred Hindoo long-tailed monkey, plays an important part
-in Hindoo mythology. He was the friend of Vishnu during his incarnation
-as Rama Chandra, and he aided the god greatly in the search for his
-wife Sita, who had been carried off by Ravān. A female slave, who had
-tended Sita kindly during her captivity, was married to Hanumân as
-a reward, and this pair some Indian noble families proudly claim as
-ancestors.
-
-Note 67: p. 286.--_Monkeys on the Rock of Gibraltar._
-
-A letter written in 1880 by an officer in Gibraltar to the _Field_
-newspaper and quoted in vol. i. of the _Royal Natural History_ gives
-the number living on the Rock at that time as twenty-five, among whom
-were only two adult males. There had been several gangs of them at one
-time, but they had done so much damage in the town gardens that they
-had been nearly exterminated by means of traps and poison. But in 1856,
-when their numbers had been reduced to four or five, a garrison order
-was issued forbidding further destruction of them, and since that time
-they have been strictly preserved and regularly counted. In 1863, four
-were imported from Africa, and after a time were admitted as members of
-the band. Another attempt was made in 1872 to reinforce their numbers,
-but it was unsuccessful.
-
-Note 68: p. 290.--_Habits of Monkeys._
-
-See Mr. Garner’s observations on monkeys (_Speech of Monkeys_, 1893);
-Hartmann’s _Apes and Monkeys_ (Internat. Science Series), Romanes’s
-_Animal Intelligence_ and _Mental Evolution in Animals_. H. A. Forbes,
-_A Handbook to the Primates_ (Allen’s Naturalist’s Library; Lond.
-1894). Mr. Havelock Ellis in his _Man and Woman_ (Lond. 1894) has some
-interesting notes on the relation of young monkeys and young children
-to the adult forms.
-
-Note 69: p. 291.--_Death from Grief._
-
-Instances of death from grief are given in Romanes’s _Animal
-Intelligence_. See also a paper by Mr. Garner in _Harper’s Monthly_,
-1894.
-
-Note 70: p. 298.--_Speech of Monkeys._
-
-See Mr. Garner’s _Speech of Monkeys_ (Lond. 1893), which tends to
-support Brehm’s view. But in reference to Garner’s work, Lloyd
-Morgan says, “Of the nine sounds made by capuchins, not one is, so
-far as the observations go, indubitably indicative of a particular
-object of desire. All of them may be, and would seem to be, in the
-emotional stage, and expressive of satisfaction, discontent, alarm,
-apprehension, and so forth. Still they may be indicative of particular
-objects of appetence or aversion; and experiments with the phonograph,
-conducted with due care and under test-conditions, may do much to
-throw light upon an interesting and important problem.” After careful
-consideration, Prof. Lloyd Morgan says, “At present, however, there is
-not, so far as I am aware, any evidence that animals possess powers of
-descriptive intercommunication involving perception of relations”.
-
-Note 71: p. 298.--_Right and Wrong in Monkeys._
-
-What is said here should be compared with the discussion of the
-subject in Darwin’s _Descent of Man_, Romanes’s _Mental Evolution in
-Animals_, or perhaps most conveniently in Lloyd Morgan’s _Introduction
-to Comparative Psychology_ (Lond. 1894). According to the last-named
-authority the moral sense “involves a thinking of the _ought_; it
-involves a more or less definite perception of the relation of a given
-act to an ideal standard”. “In none of these cases (cited), is there
-sufficient evidence to justify a belief that a standard of conduct
-takes form in the animal mind.”
-
-Note 72: p. 303.--_Mutual Aid among Monkeys._
-
-Mr. Darwin quotes this case in his _Descent of Man_, and calls the
-monkey “a true hero”. Similar examples of mutual aid will be found in
-the same work, as also in a couple of articles by Prince Kropotkine,
-“Mutual Aid among Animals”, _Nineteenth Century_, 1889.
-
-Note 73: p. 316.--_Effect of age._
-
-There are some who hold that observation favours the opposite view,
-that the young ape is relatively more human and less simian than the
-adult. With these, rather than with Brehm, we agree. There is, however,
-need of more precise physiological and psychological observation.
-
-Note 74: p. 318.--_Man’s Place in Nature._
-
-It should be noted that the zoologist’s usual statement of his position
-is that he believes that men and the higher apes have arisen from a
-common stock. See Huxley’s _Man’s Place in Nature_. As the anthropoid
-apes are believed to have diverged as distinct types in Miocene times,
-the common stock is plainly in the almost inconceivably distant past.
-A belief in descent from a common stock does not in the least affect
-the demonstrable distinctiveness of man, nor does it explain how the
-evolution, whose results we are, took place. See Darwin’s _Descent of
-Man_, and Drummond’s _Ascent of Man_.
-
-
-DESERT JOURNEYS.
-
-Note 75: p. 330.--_Nodules in the Desert._
-
-These seem to be the now well-known manganese nodules. The puzzling
-question of their origin is discussed by Dr. John Murray in that
-part of the _Challenger_ Reports which deals with marine deposits.
-Solymos thus describes them, “Belted by higher hills, I have mounted
-one, apparently consisting entirely of a lofty pile of hardened equal
-sandstone balls, the size of peaches. They were as nearly globular as
-anything in nature--a bubble, a drop, a planet.”
-
-
-NUBIA AND THE NILE RAPIDS.
-
-For some interesting geological and zoological observations see A.
-Leith Adams, _Notes of a Naturalist in the Nile Valley and Malta_
-(1870). J. H. Speke, _Journal of the Discovery of the Source of the
-Nile_ (1864).
-
-Note 76: p. 358,--_On the Nile and its Cataracts._
-
-See Sir Samuel Baker’s _The Nile and its Tributaries_ (1867), and
-Walter Budge, _The Nile: Notes for Travellers in Egypt_ (1890).
-
-Note 77: p. 359.--_Syenite._
-
-Syenite, a hard crystalline rock, resembling granite, and well adapted
-for monuments. It is not known in Britain, but occurs in many parts of
-Europe and America, as well as at the place to which it owes its name.
-
-Note 78: p. 362.--_Philæ._
-
-Philæ has recently been a centre of attention in connection with the
-Egyptian waterworks. See Sir Benjamin Baker, “Nile Reservoirs and
-Philæ”, _Nineteenth Century_, xxxv. (1894), pp. 863-72; J. P. Mahaffy,
-“The Devastation of Nubia”, pp. 1013-18; Frank Dillon, “The Submergence
-of Philæ”, pp. 1019-25; H. D. Pearsall, “The Nile Reservoirs”,
-_Scottish Geographical Magazine_ (1895, August), pp. 393-402.
-
-Note 79: p. 370.--_Government of Egypt._
-
-The reader must bear in mind that Egypt has had a somewhat complex
-political history since Brehm wrote.
-
-
-A JOURNEY IN SIBERIA.
-
-Note 80: p. 397.--_Archar Sheep._
-
-Archar or arkal is the Kirghiz name for the Mongolian argali (_Ovis
-ammon_). The animal is almost as large as a donkey, has enormous horns
-and short coarse hair. It is said to be now restricted to Northern
-Mongolia, and some districts of Southern Siberia. The Tibetan argali
-(_Ovis hodgsoni_) is closely allied. See Sir V. Brooke, _Proc.
-Zoological Society_, 1875.
-
-Note 81: p. 412.--_Splenic Fever._
-
-Anthrax or splenic fever is a rapidly fatal disease due to a microbe,
-_Bacillus anthracis_. This was demonstrated by Koch, and corroborated
-by Pasteur. The latter discovered how to attenuate the virus, and
-secure immunity by inoculation. Cattle, sheep, and reindeer are among
-the commonest victims; but, as the narrative shows, man himself is not
-exempt.
-
-
-THE HEATHEN OSTIAKS.
-
-Note 82: p. 426.--_Present state of Ostiaks._
-
-The Ostiak population was estimated in 1891 at about 27,000, and is
-believed to be still decreasing. There is some interesting information
-regarding them in Erman’s _Travels in Siberia_.
-
-Note 83: p. 433--_Larvæ out of nostrils._
-
-The reindeer is excessively troubled by the attacks of several insects,
-related to the bot-flies (Œstridæ), which attack sheep, cattle, and
-horses in this country. One lays its eggs in the skin, another in the
-nostrils, whence the larvæ emerge. The reindeer have a great horror
-of these insects, and are said to become weak and emaciated in their
-efforts to avoid them. The disease due to the parasitic insects is
-sometimes referred to as “germ”, and may destroy most of a herd.
-
-Note 84: p. 438.--_Brick Tea._
-
-See Note 36.
-
-Note 85: p. 444.--_Shamans._
-
-Some interesting details as to these in Hofgaard’s _Nordenskïold’s
-Voyage_. He speaks of the preparatory asceticism: “solitude, watching,
-fasting, exciting and narcotic remedies work upon his imagination; he
-soon sees the spirits and the apparitions he heard about in his youth,
-and believes firmly in them”.... “He is no cool, calculating deceiver,
-no common conjuror.” “Sometimes they have been thrashed in order that
-they might change a particular prophecy, but Wrangel relates a case in
-1814, when their orders to kill a beloved chief, in order to stay a
-plague, were at length obeyed. Though Christianity has been introduced
-for more than a century, the Shamans have still (1882) much power.”
-
-A scholarly account of the Shamans, which includes much interesting
-material in regard to the customs which Brehm describes in this
-chapter, will be found in the _Journal of the Anthropological
-Institute_, xxiv., August and September, 1894. “Shamanism in Siberia
-and European Russia”, being the second part of “Shamantsvo,” by
-Professor V. M. Mikhailovskii, translated by O. Wardrop.
-
-
-NOMAD HERDSMEN AND HERDS OF THE STEPPES.
-
- See F. Burnaby’s _Ride to Khiva_ (1876); H. Lansdell’s _Through
- Siberia_ (1882), and _Russian Central Asia_ (1885); A. de Levchine,
- _Description des Hordes et des Steppes des Kirghiz-Kazaks_ (Paris,
- 1840); Zaleskie, _La vie des Steppes Kirghizes_ (Paris, 1865).
-
-
-COLONISTS AND EXILES IN SIBERIA.
-
-Note 86: p. 514.--_Geology of the Altai._
-
-“In the Altai the mountains are built up of granites, syenites, and
-diorites covered with metamorphic slates belonging to the Laurentian,
-Silurian, Devonian, and Carboniferous periods. The Jurassic strata on
-the outskirts are all fresh-water deposits, and contain coal.”
-
-“The Altai Mines (12,000 men) yielded in 1881, 16,670 lbs. of silver,
-13,140 cwts. lead, 6708 cwts. copper, 3200 cwts. iron, 240,000 cwts.
-coal, and 320,000 cwts. salt.”
-
-Note 87: p. 539.--_The Exile System._
-
-The reader should consult Dr. Lansdell’s _Through Siberia_ (London,
-1882); H. de Windt’s _Siberia As It Is_ (London, 1892); Seebohm’s
-_Siberia in Asia_ (1882). While some, _e.g._ de Windt, give an account
-of the exile system which agrees with Brehm’s, it should be noted that
-others think very differently; see Kennan’s _Siberia and the Exile
-System_ (1891).
-
-
-AN ORNITHOLOGIST ON THE DANUBE.
-
-Note 88: p. 563.--_The Penduline Titmouse._
-
-A very small species of titmouse occurring in Southern Europe and
-Africa. Its remarkable nest (see figure) is formed of a felt woven of
-hemp or wool often mixed with goat’s hair. It usually hangs on the
-extreme end of a branch just over water. Both birds share in the work
-of building, as also in that of hatching and rearing the young, of
-which there are usually seven.
-
-
-
-
-INDEX.
-
-
-  Aard-vark or ant-eater, 194.
-
-  Abiad, Bahr-el-, White Nile, 368.
-
-  Abu tok, a small hornbill, 216.
-
-  Adony, heronry on island of, 544.
-
-  Altai, crown-estate of the, 513, 585.
-
-  Altrices and præcoces, 59, 566.
-
-  Antelope, migrations of the, 245.
-
-  Anthropoid apes, 308.
-
-  Apes and Monkeys, 282;
-    an Arabic legend about baboons, 282;
-    ancient beliefs of Egypt and India, 284;
-    the “monkey question” discussed, 285, 580;
-    their distribution and habits, 286, 582;
-    talents and abilities, 291;
-    New-World monkeys, 293;
-    a concert of red howlers, 295;
-    Old-World monkeys, 296;
-    two types, the Dog-like and Man-like, 296;
-    endowments and characteristics of the Dog-like monkey, 296, 582;
-    examples of their bravery, intelligence, and self-esteem, 299, 582;
-    Man-like or anthropoid apes, 308;
-    their structure, habits, and voice-power, 308;
-    highest specimens of this type, 311;
-    the chimpanzee, 311;
-    differences between man and the ape, 317, 583.
-
-  Archar, a giant wild sheep, 110, 397, 584.
-
-  Arctic fox, 73, 155, 567.
-
-  Asiatic steppes, the, 86.
-
-  Aspis, a venomous snake, 184, 575.
-
-  Assuan, on the Nile, 359.
-
-  Auk, life and habits of the, 57, 566.
-
-  Aul of the Kirghiz, 464, 478, 497.
-
-  Azrek, Bahr-el-, Blue Nile, 203, 368.
-
-
-  Baboons in Central Africa, 238.
-
-  Baobab-tree, 209.
-
-  Bards among the Kirghiz, 493.
-
-  Barnaul, town of, 518.
-
-  Bat, migration of the, 251.
-
-  Bateleur, or short-tailed African eagle, 188;
-    poetic legend regarding, 189;
-    its remarkable flight during pairing-time, 265.
-
-  Bear, habits of the, 163;
-    value of its skin, 165;
-    its teeth and claws considered potent charms, 165;
-    methods of its capture, 166;
-    stories of encounters with bears, 166.
-
-  Beaver, extermination of the, 135, 573.
-
-  Bedouins of the desert, 352.
-
-  Bee-eater, courting of the, 266.
-
-  Bird-bergs of Scandinavia, 40, 51.
-
-  Birds, love and courtship among, 259;
-    methods of their wooing, 262;
-    combats of rival lovers, 272;
-    unfaithfulness among, 278.
-
-  Bird voices of the primitive forest, 215.
-
-  Bison, migrations of the, 241, 579.
-
-  Brehm, Alfred E., sketch of, xxvii.
-
-  Brick tea, 573, 585.
-
-  Brooding islands of Scandinavia described, 48, 53;
-    visits to, 49, 53.
-
-  Buffalo, the, 97, 569.
-
-  Bulban for decoying black grouse, 142.
-
-  Buran or snow-hurricane, 94.
-
-
-  Camel of the Kirghiz, 466, 571.
-
-  Capuchin monkeys, 239, 296.
-
-  Cat, ancestors of the, 116, 571.
-
-  Cataracts of the Nile, 358, 583;
-    navigation of the, 379.
-
-  Cattle of the Kirghiz, 466.
-
-  Cembra or stone-pine of Siberia, 128.
-
-  Cerastes or horned viper, 178, 575.
-
-  Chabir or leader of a caravan, 322.
-
-  Chimpanzee, character of the, 311;
-    story of one, 315.
-
-  Chinese breakfast, a, 400.
-
-  Climbing plants in primitive forests, 210.
-
-  Colonists and Exiles in Siberia, 510, 586;
-    their conditions of life, 511;
-    abolition of serfdom, 512;
-    the crown-estate of Altai, 513;
-    condition of its inhabitants, 515;
-    their character, 518;
-    a peasant’s views, 519;
-    over-abundant harvests, 521;
-    early marriages, 522;
-    marriage customs, 523;
-    the criminal classes, 524;
-    their transport and government allowances, 524;
-    their considerate treatment, 530;
-    a prison school, 532;
-    orphan asylum, 533;
-    among the criminals, 533;
-    their reformation sought, 534;
-    convict work in the mines, 534;
-    attempted escapes, 536.
-
-  Convicts in Siberia, 524.
-
-  Crested crane, notes of the, 216.
-
-  Crocodile, the, 225, 227, 577.
-
-  Crocodile-bird, the, 227, 577.
-
-  Cuckoo, courting of the, 264;
-    its polygamy, 279.
-
-
-  Danube, an Ornithologist on the, 540.
-
-  Darwin, Charles, xxiv;
-    his Doctrine of Descent, 317, 438.
-
-  Dauw, flight of the, 256.
-
-  Desert Journeys, 318;
-    bargaining with a sheikh, 318;
-    preparations for a start, 321;
-    camel-riding, 325;
-    the Sahara or Great Desert described, 326;
-    its animal life, 331;
-    discomforts of the desert journey, 336;
-    the camel-driver sketched, 338;
-    a night in the desert, 340;
-    the oasis, 341;
-    life at a well in the desert, 345;
-    a festival of nomads and travellers, 347;
-    coming of the Simoom, 348;
-    the mirage, 351;
-    an interview with Bedouins, 352;
-    the Nile reached, 355.
-
-  Diving-birds in the tundra, 78.
-
-  Dog-like monkeys, 296.
-
-  Dogs, of the Ostiaks, 429;
-    of the Kirghiz, 467.
-
-  Domesticated animals, ancestors of our, 115, 571.
-
-  Dove, courting of the, 266.
-
-  Dromedary, the, 466.
-
-  Duleb-palm, the, 210.
-
-  Dwarf-birch of the tundra, 68.
-
-
-  Eagle, hunting with the, 486.
-
-  Eider-duck, the, 40;
-    its appearance and habits, 41;
-    her search for a brooding-place, 42;
-    the nest robbed by the Norseman, 43;
-    she builds a second nest, 43;
-    value of the down on her breast, 43, 48, 565;
-    her remarkable tameness, 45;
-    the birds steal each other’s eggs, 45;
-    the ducklings protected and placed in the sea by the natives, 46.
-
-  Eider-holms, 40.
-
-  Elephant, the, 233.
-
-  Elephantine, on the Nile, 359.
-
-  Elk, hunting of the, 147; 573.
-
-  Exiles. See _Colonists_.
-
-
-  Faber’s description of a brooding-place, 60.
-
-  Fall-trap, used in Siberia, 136.
-
-  Family and Social Life among the Kirghiz, 482;
-    alleged origin of the people, 482;
-    their true character, 483;
-    their expert horsemanship, 484;
-    wrestling, 485;
-    hunting, 486;
-    their love of talking, 492;
-    language, 493;
-    bards, 493;
-    education and religious feeling, 494;
-    good qualities of the people, 494;
-    family pride and vanity, 495;
-    social customs and hospitality, 496;
-    wedding ceremonies, 497;
-    a lover’s song, 502;
-    treatment of children, 506;
-    funeral ceremonies, 507.
-
-  Fata Morgana or “devil’s sea”, 351.
-
-  Fighting-ruffs, combats of, 102; 570.
-
-  Forests of Siberia, 121;
-    of Africa and America, 571, 572;
-    forest-fires, 123.
-
-  Fox, hunted for its valuable fur, 155; 487.
-
-  Fruskagora, hunting and exploring in, 557.
-
-  Funeral ceremonies among the Kirghiz, 507.
-
-
-  Gazelle of the desert, 332.
-
-  Gecko lizard, the, 186, 575.
-
-  Goat of the Kirghiz, 464, 571.
-
-  Goat-sucker or night-jar, 193, 266.
-
-  Gobi steppe, migrations from the, 242.
-
-  Golden plover of the tundra, 78.
-
-  Gulls, breeding-places of, 53, 60.
-
-
-  Hare and Hounds, game of, in Nubia, 377.
-
-  Hare of Western Siberia, 150.
-
-  Hassanie, a Soudanese tribe, 204;
-    their appearance and singular customs, 204;
-    their huts, 205;
-    life of a Hassanie matron, 206.
-
-  Hazel-grouse, hunting of the, 142.
-
-  Heat in the desert, 170, 574.
-
-  Hippopotamus, the, 225, 230.
-
-  Hochtiere, an order including man and the monkey, 317.
-
-  Hornbill, the, 219, 576.
-
-  Horse, among the Kirghiz, 458, 484;
-    horse-racing, 485.
-
-  Hulman and Bunder, monkeys worshipped, 238.
-
-  Humboldt, Alexander von, xx.
-
-  Hungary, bird-fauna of, 540.
-
-  Hyæna-dog of African steppes, 195.
-
-
-  Instinct _versus_ Love, 259.
-
-  Isegrim, name for the wolf, 152, 154, 564.
-
-
-  Jerboa of the Asiatic steppes, 108, 570.
-
-  Journey, in the Desert, 318;
-    in Siberia, 390.
-
-
-  Kaisak, Kasak, or Cossack. See _Kirghiz_.
-
-  Kalüm, price of a Kirghiz bride, 499.
-
-  Kazan, town of, 393.
-
-  Kirghiz, the, 397;
-    a sample of their poetry, 398.
-    See _Nomad Herdsmen_, and _Family and Social Life_.
-
-  Kittiwake, brooding-places of the, 60.
-
-  Korti, the Nubians defeated at, 370.
-
-  Koumiss, 469, 498.
-
-  Kulan, ancestor of the domestic horse, 115, 404, 571;
-    migrations of the, 245.
-
-
-  Lark of the Asiatic steppes, 105, 115.
-
-  Lemming of the tundra, 74;
-    migrations of, 254, 568, 580.
-
-  Lizards in Africa, 185.
-
-  Locusts, 230.
-
-  Lofodens and their bird-life, 48.
-
-  Love and Courtship among Birds, 259;
-    intelligence and emotional life in animals, 260;
-    all birds seek to pair, 261;
-    various methods of bird-wooing, 262;
-    their songs are love-songs, 263;
-    their love-flights, 265;
-    love-dances, 266;
-    coyness of the female birds, 271, 581;
-    combats among the rival males, 272;
-    devotion of birds to their chosen mates, 275;
-    occasional unfaithfulness, 277;
-    polygamous birds, 279, 581;
-    bird widows and widowers, 280, 581.
-
-  Love _versus_ Instinct, 259.
-
-  Love-dances of birds, 266.
-
-  Love-flights of kites, harriers, &c., 265.
-
-  Love-song of birds, 263.
-
-  Lynx in Siberia, 155.
-
-
-  Mammals, migrations of, 234.
-
-  Man-like apes, 308.
-
-  Maral stag, hunting of the, 144;
-    value of his antlers for preparing a Chinese quack specific, 144, 573.
-
-  Marmoset, lowest of the monkey order, 291.
-
-  Marriage ceremonies among the Kirghiz, 498.
-
-  Marsh-harrier, a bird of prey, 102.
-
-  Melik el Nimmr, the “panther king”, 371.
-
-  Metallic starling, the, 214, 215.
-
-  Migrations of Mammals, 234;
-    causes of periodic migrations, 234;
-    wanderings of the brown rat, souslik, and mice, 235;
-    expeditions to obtain better food, 238;
-    fundamental cause of all true migration, 239;
-    scarcity of water a cause of migrations, 242;
-    migration of sea animals, 248;
-    mad flight of zebras and other animals in South Africa, 256.
-
-  Mines of Siberia, convicts in, 534.
-
-  Mohammed Aali subjugates the Nubians, 370.
-
-  Monkeys. See _Apes and Monkeys_.
-
-  Monkeys, long-tailed, 222, 581.
-
-  Mosquito, a terrible pest in the tundra, 81, 568.
-
-  Mud-fish of Africa, 183, 575.
-
-
-  Naturalist-travellers, list of works by, xxix.
-
-  Nests of birds, 217;
-    of the bee-eaters, 217;
-    of the golden weaver-birds, 218;
-    of the cow weaver-birds, 219;
-    of finches, 219;
-    of the hornbills, 219;
-    of the umber-bird, 220;
-    of the dwarf peregrine falcon and guinea-dove, 221;
-    of the African swift, 221;
-    of the crocodile-bird, 229.
-
-  New-World or broad-nosed monkeys, 293.
-
-  Nomad Herdsmen and Herds of the Steppes, 451;
-    domain and tribes of the Kirghiz, 452;
-    their racial affinities, 452;
-    physical features, 453;
-    dress, 453;
-    dwellings, 454;
-    wealth reckoned by their herds, 458;
-    importance of the horse, 458;
-    their sheep and goats, 464;
-    cattle, 465;
-    camels, 466;
-    dog, 467;
-    food of the people, 468;
-    their constant roamings, 470;
-    the winter camping-ground, 473;
-    manner of travelling, 474;
-    milking the animals, 477;
-    a charming picture of pastoral life, 480.
-
-  Northern Lights, the, 38, 86, 443.
-
-  Norway, harvest of the sea, 38.
-
-  Nubia and the Nile Rapids, 356;
-    the region of the rapids, 357;
-    its prehistoric ruins, 359;
-    vegetation and fauna, 363;
-    fertility of middle Nubia, 366;
-    the Nubian and Egyptian contrasted, 368;
-    Nubia subjugated by the Egyptians, 370;
-    sketch of the Nubian people, 373;
-    navigation of the rapids, 379;
-    a night on one of the rocks, 382;
-    the voyage down-stream, 383, 388;
-    a warning unheeded, 388.
-
-  Nyke, visit to the, 53;
-    its immense number of birds, 55.
-
-
-  Oases of the desert, 341.
-
-  Obdorsk, annual fair at, 440.
-
-  Ohrt, the Ostiak god, 421, 443, 448.
-
-  Old-World monkeys, 296.
-
-  Omsk, town of, 396.
-
-  Ornithologist (an) on the Danube, 540;
-    a tempting invitation, 541;
-    scenery on the Danube, 541;
-    a famous heronry, 544;
-    bird-life in the marshes, 546;
-    sea-eagle hunting, 548;
-    fighting and pairing of the birds, 549;
-    care for their young, 552;
-    protection of animal life in Hungary, 554;
-    a grand river picture, 556;
-    a wonderful district, 557;
-    vulture-shooting, 561;
-    a sail through a forest-wilderness, 563.
-
-  Ostiaks, the Heathen, 416;
-    condition of the people, 416;
-    probable number of the tribe, 417, 584;
-    contrasted with Ostiaks of the Greek Church, 418;
-    their physical features, 421;
-    language and dress, 422;
-    dwellings, 423;
-    employments, 425;
-    their reindeer and dogs, 426;
-    constant migrations, 431;
-    a “bloody meal”, 434;
-    at night in a tshum, 436;
-    at a fishing-station, 437;
-    hunting for game, 439;
-    the fair of Obdorsk, 440;
-    evils of brandy-drinking, 440;
-    marriage customs, 441;
-    domestic life, 445;
-    performances and prophecies of a shaman, 445;
-    religion of the people, 448;
-    their burial customs, 450.
-
-  Ostrich, legend regarding the, 190;
-    habits and omnivorous appetite of, 191, 576;
-    breeding of, 192.
-
-  Ox of the Kirghiz, 465.
-
-  Oyster-catcher, the, 49.
-
-
-  Pairing-cry of birds, 273.
-
-  Pallas’s sand-grouse or steppe-grouse, 115, 404.
-
-  Palm-tree of the desert, 342.
-
-  Pangolin of North Africa, 194.
-
-  Phalarope in the tundra, 80, 568.
-
-  Philæ, island of, 361, 584.
-
-  Pichta fir of Siberia, 128, 394.
-
-  Pine-marten, 158;
-    hunting of the, 161.
-
-  Polygamy of some birds, 279.
-
-  Primeval Forests of Central Africa, 201;
-    their magnificence in spring-time, 203;
-    sailing up the Blue Nile, 204;
-    a remarkable tribe, 204;
-    the forest reached, 207;
-    difficulty of penetrating it, 208;
-    the baobab-tree and duleb-palm, 209;
-    bird-fauna of the forest, 213;
-    varieties of nests, 217;
-    mammals of the forest, 222;
-    animal life on the river-banks and islands, 225;
-    rain-lakes and water-pools of the forest, 229;
-    visits of the locust, 230;
-    night in the primeval forest, 231.
-
-  Ptarmigan of the tundra, 77
-
-
-  Quagga, flight of the, 256; 569.
-
-
-  Ramwood of the Asiatic steppes, 112.
-
-  Rat, invasion of the, 235; 578.
-
-  Razor-bill or auk, 57, 61.
-
-  Reindeer, 76, 150, 240, 578;
-    ravages of disease among, 412, 426, 584.
-
-  Roe-deer, hunting of the, 146.
-
-  Rouble and kopek, 573.
-
-
-  Sable, rarity of the, 157;
-    hunting the, 161.
-
-  Sahara, the, 326.
-
-  Salt-steppes, 90, 98.
-
-  Salt’s antelope, 223.
-
-  Samoyedes, 417, 440.
-
-  Sand-grouse of the desert, 334, 570.
-
-  Scandinavia, ancient legend concerning, 33;
-    general aspect of the land, 34;
-    its fjords, 35;
-    islands and skerries, 37;
-    fisheries, 38;
-    bird-bergs, 40, 51.
-
-  Schlangenberg or Snakemount, 107, 129, 157, 408.
-
-  Schohazen or Catholic Servians, 555.
-
-  Sea-birds, habits of, 39;
-    value of their eggs and flesh as food, 48.
-
-  Sea-eagle hunting in Hungary, 548.
-
-  Seal, migrations of the, 250, 580.
-
-  Secretary-bird, 184, 187.
-
-  Serfdom, abolition of, 512.
-
-  Shaman or Ostiak priest, 445, 585.
-
-  Sheep of the Kirghiz, 464.
-
-  Shendy, massacre at, 371;
-    Nubians defeated at, 373.
-
-  Shrikes, different notes of male and female, 216.
-
-  Siberia, false ideas concerning, 120;
-    its vast forests, 121;
-    forest-fires, 123;
-    limited variety of trees, 127;
-    difficulty of traversing the primeval forests, 130;
-    their desolateness, 131;
-    uncertainty of finding game, 132;
-    Siberian methods of hunting, 135;
-    the trade in furs and birds’ skins, 135, 573;
-    game animals of the forests, 136;
-    hunting of game birds, 140, and of big and smaller game, 144.
-
-  Siberia, Journey in, 390;
-    travelling in winter, 391;
-    from Europe into Asia, 394;
-    Western Siberia reached, 395;
-    Russian hospitality, 395;
-    a great hunting expedition, 397;
-    entertained by a Chinese mandarin, 399;
-    a horrible massacre, 401;
-    at the Irtish river, 404;
-    in the Altai Mountains, 404;
-    camp-life with a Russian general, 405;
-    summer scene in the Altai, 406;
-    a voyage on the great river Obi, 408;
-    an unfortunate exploring expedition, 411;
-    ravages of disease, 412, 414;
-    the return home, 415.
-
-  Simoom, the, 171, 348.
-
-  Skua in the tundra, 79.
-
-  Sky-goat, 103, 570.
-
-  Souslik, the, 108, 237, 407.
-
-  Spiders and scorpions in a night-camp, 178.
-
-  Splenic fever, ravages of, 412, 584.
-
-  Springbok, flight of the, 257; 580.
-
-  Spring-gun of the Ostiaks and Samoyedes, 139.
-
-  Squirrels, migrations of, 253.
-
-  Steppe, origin and usage of the term, 87, 174.
-
-  Steppe-fires, 397.
-
-  Steppes, characteristics of the Asiatic, 87;
-    their scenery, 89;
-    vegetation, 91, 568;
-    beauty of the flowers in spring, 95;
-    animal life in the steppes, 97, 109, 115;
-    insects and reptiles, 107;
-    the giant wild sheep, 110;
-    the kulan or wild horse, 115;
-    a kulan hunt and capture of a foal, 119.
-
-  Steppes of Inner Africa, 168;
-    sketch of their seasons, 169;
-    miseries of the winter, 170;
-    spring heralded by terrible storm and rain, 171;
-    definition of the African steppe, 174;
-    inhospitable character of the region, 175;
-    its vegetation, 176;
-    difficulties of travelling, 177;
-    a night’s experience in camp, 177;
-    fauna of the country, 182;
-    the bird-fauna, 187;
-    mammals, 193;
-    stampede and destruction of animal life caused by the steppe-fire, 198.
-
-  Stone-seas in the Nile, 367.
-
-  Storks, stories regarding, 276, 277, 278, 281.
-
-  Swallow, courting of the, 266.
-
-  Swärtholm brooding-place, 60, 62.
-
-  Syene, or Sun, on the Nile, 359, 584.
-
-
-  Taiga region in Siberia, 129, 572.
-
-  Tarpan of the Dnieper steppes, 115, 571.
-
-  Tchukutchak stormed by the Dungani tribe, 401.
-
-  Termite or white ant in Africa, 181, 574.
-
-  Tiger, hunting of the, 157.
-
-  Titmouse, the penduline, 563, 586.
-
-  Tiumen, town of, 395.
-
-  Tragopan, wooing of the, 267.
-
-  Tshum or hut of the Ostiaks, 410, 423.
-
-  Tundra of the Polar region, described, 63, 566;
-    its lakes, 67;
-    vegetation, 68;
-    prehistoric animals embedded in its ice-crust, 72, 567;
-    fauna of the tundra, 72;
-    characteristic birds, 77;
-    the mosquito, 81;
-    autumn and winter in the tundra, 85;
-    an unhappy expedition to one, 411.
-
-
-  Umber-bird, the, 220, 576.
-
-  Ustkamenegorsk, school in, 494.
-
-
-  Vodki in Siberia, 524.
-
-  Voles, migrations of the, 253.
-
-  Vulture, the crested black, 559.
-
-
-  Wady Halfa, on the Nile, 357, 362, 387, 390.
-
-  Wallace, Alfred Russel, xxiv.
-
-  Whale, systematic migrations of the, 248.
-
-  Wild sheep hunting on the Arkat Mountains, 488.
-
-  Willows (sallows) of the tundra, 69.
-
-  Wolf, 93, 151, 152, 486, 488, 564.
-
-  Wood-ibis, song of the, 216.
-
-
-  Yamaul, messenger of the gods, 446, 447.
-
-  Yurt or Kirghiz house, 454, 570.
-
-
-  Zaizan, town of, 403, 494.
-
-  Zebra, flight of the, 256.
-
-  Zoology, history of, xv.
-
-
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-<body>
-<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of From North Pole to Equator, by Alfred Edmund Brehm</p>
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
-most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
-of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
-at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you
-are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the
-country where you are located before using this eBook.
-</div>
-
-<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: From North Pole to Equator</p>
-<p style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:1em;'>Studies of Wild Life and Scenes in Many Lands</p>
-<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Alfred Edmund Brehm</p>
-<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Editor: J. Arthur (John Arthur) Thomson</p>
-<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Translator: Margaret R. Thomson</p>
-<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: May 21, 2022 [eBook #68142]</p>
-<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p>
-  <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Alan &amp; The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)</p>
-<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FROM NORTH POLE TO EQUATOR ***</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-<img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="" />
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter1" id="f1">
-<img src="images/fig1.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">A E Brehm</p>
-</div>
-
-
-
-<p class="c sans med p6 sp">BLACKIE &amp; SON, LIMITED, LONDON, GLASGOW AND EDINBURGH.</p>
-
-
-
-<p class="c p6 sp lsp">FROM<br />
-
-
-<span class="xlarge">NORTH POLE TO EQUATOR</span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-<img src="images/fig2.jpg" alt="" />
-</div>
-
-
-
-<h1>
-<span class="med">FROM</span><br />
-
-<span class="smcap up">North Pole to Equator</span></h1>
-
-<p class="c sp lsp">
-STUDIES OF WILD LIFE AND SCENES<br />
-IN MANY LANDS</p>
-
-<p class="c med p4">
-BY THE NATURALIST-TRAVELLER<br />
-</p>
-
-<p class="c sp xlarge">
-ALFRED EDMUND BREHM</p>
-
-<p class="c sp mid">
-AUTHOR OF “BIRD-LIFE”, “TIERLEBEN”, ETC. ETC.</p>
-
-<p class="c p4 med">
-TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN BY<br />
-<span class="xxlarge">MARGARET R. THOMSON</span></p>
-
-<p class="c med">
-EDITED BY<br />
-<span class="xxlarge">J. ARTHUR THOMSON, M.A., F.R.S.E.</span></p>
-
-
-
-<p class="c med p4">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;<br />
-<i>WITH EIGHTY-THREE ILLUSTRATIONS FROM ORIGINAL DRAWINGS</i><br />
-&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter2">
-<img src="images/fig3.jpg" alt="" />
-</div>
-
-
-<p class="c p2 large gtb">
-LONDON</p>
-
-<p class="c sp">
-BLACKIE &amp; SON, <span class="smcap">Limited</span>, 50 OLD BAILEY, E.C.<br />
-GLASGOW AND DUBLIN</p>
-
-<p class="c more">
-1896
-</p>
-<hr class="full x-ebookmaker-drop" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_v">[Pg v]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak gtb" id="c1">PREFACE</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="c sp">TO THE GERMAN EDITION.</p>
-
-<hr class="r5" />
-
-<p>Six years have passed since the grave at Renthendorf
-closed over the remains of my esteemed father, whose death&mdash;all
-too early&mdash;was as great a loss to Science as to those
-who loved and honoured him. It was strange that his
-eventful and adventurous life, in the course of which he
-visited and explored four quarters of the globe, should have
-ended at the little spot in green Thuringia where he was
-born. He had just reached his fifty-fifth year when his lips,
-so apt in speech, were silenced, and the pen which he held so
-masterfully dropped from his hand. He was full of great plans
-as to various works, and it is much to be regretted that the
-notes which he had collected towards the realization of these
-were too fragmentary for anyone but their author to utilize.
-But the manuscripts which he left contained many a treasure,
-and it seemed to me a duty, both to the author and to all
-friends of thoughtful observation, to make these available to
-the reading public.</p>
-
-<p>The following pages form the first book of the kind, and
-contain the most valuable part of the legacy&mdash;Alfred Edmund
-Brehm’s lectures, once so universally popular. I believe that,
-in giving these pages to the world, I am offering a gift which
-will be warmly welcomed, and I need add no commendatory
-words of mine, for they speak adequately for themselves.
-Writing replaces spoken words very imperfectly, and my<span class="pagenum" id="Page_vi">[Pg vi]</span>
-father, who was never tied down to his paper, may often
-have delivered the same matter in different forms according
-to the responsiveness of his audience, abbreviating here,
-expanding there&mdash;yet to anyone who has heard him the
-following pages will recall his presence and the tones of his
-sonorous voice; everyone will not only recognize in them the
-individuality of the author of the <i>Tierleben</i> (Animal Life)
-and <i>Bird Life</i>, but will learn to know him in a new and
-attractive side of his character. For it is my father’s lectures
-almost more than any other of his works which show the
-wealth of his experiences, the many-sidedness of his knowledge,
-his masterly powers of observation and description,
-and not least his delicate kindly humour and the sympathetic
-interpretation of animate and inanimate nature which
-arose from his deeply poetic temperament.</p>
-
-<p>Therefore I send these pages forth into the world with
-the pleasant confidence that they will add many to the
-author’s already numerous friends. May they also gain new
-and unprejudiced sympathizers for the animal world which
-he loved so warmly and understood so thoroughly; and may
-they, in every house where the love of literature, and of the
-beautiful is cherished, open eyes and hearts to perceive the
-beauty of nature, the universal mother; then will the highest
-and noblest aim of their author be achieved.</p>
-
-<p>So may all success attend these pages, may they receive
-a joyful welcome, and wherever they gain an entrance may
-they remain as a prized possession.</p>
-
-<p class="r">
-HORST BREHM,</p>
-
-<p class="r1 more">
-Doctor of Medicine.
-</p>
-
-<p class="l"><span class="smcap">Berlin</span>, <i>September, 1890</i>.</p>
-
-<hr class="full x-ebookmaker-drop" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_vii">[Pg vii]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak sp" id="c2">PREFATORY NOTE</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="c sp">TO THE ENGLISH TRANSLATION.</p>
-
-<hr class="r5" />
-
-<p>It has been a privilege to make available to English readers
-a book which shows a great naturalist at his best&mdash;a book that
-presents the reader with a series of vivid pictures of wild life and
-scenery, painted from actual observation, and with all the truth
-and accuracy that belong to the artist and man of science combined.
-It consists of a number of papers or articles that were originally
-read as public lectures and were afterwards collected into a volume
-that has met with much success in Germany. The subjects treated
-range over a wide and varied field. Some of them are unfamiliar
-to the ordinary reader, and besides their inherent interest have the
-added charm of novelty; others, if more familiar, are here invested
-with a freshness and charm that such a trained observer and practised
-writer as the author could alone impart.</p>
-
-<p>To the translation of the German original have been added an
-introductory essay, showing Brehm’s position among naturalist-travellers,
-an extended table of contents, an appendix containing a
-number of editorial notes, and an index. The number of pictorial
-illustrations has also been increased.</p>
-
-<p>For a notice of the Author and his labours see the concluding
-part of the Introductory Essay.</p>
-
-<p class="r">
-M. R. T.<br />
-J. A. T.
-</p>
-
-<p class="l">
-<span class="smcap">University Hall,</span></p>
-
-<p class="l4">
-<span class="smcap">Edinburgh</span>, <i>December, 1895</i>.
-</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_viii">[Pg viii]</span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter1">
-<img src="images/fig4.jpg" alt="" />
-</div>
-
-<hr class="full x-ebookmaker-drop" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_ix">[Pg ix]</span></p>
-<p class="ph2">CONTENTS.</p>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="r5" />
-
-<table summary="chapters">
-
-<tr>
- <td class="tdl"></td>
- <td class="tdr">Page</td></tr>
-
-<tr>
- <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Preface to German Edition,</span></td>
- <td class="tdr"><a href="#c1">v</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
- <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Prefatory Note to the English Translation</span>,</td>
- <td class="tdr"><a href="#c2">vii</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
- <td class="tdl">INTRODUCTORY ESSAY BY THE EDITOR,</td>
- <td class="tdr"><a href="#c3">xv</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
- <td class="tdc" colspan="2">THE BIRD-BERGS OF LAPLAND.</td></tr>
-
-<tr>
- <td class="tdl">The legend of Scandinavia’s origin&mdash;The harvest of the sea&mdash;The doves
-  of Scandinavia&mdash;Eider-holms and bird-bergs&mdash;The nesting of the
-  eider-duck&mdash;Razor-bills and robber-gulls&mdash;Millions of birds&mdash;(<a href="#n1">Notes,
-  pp. 565-566</a>),</td>
- <td class="tdrb"><a href="#c4">33</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
- <td class="tdc" colspan="2">THE TUNDRA AND ITS ANIMAL LIFE.</td></tr>
-
-<tr>
- <td class="tdl">High tundra and low tundra&mdash;The jewels of the tundra&mdash;The flora of the
-  tundra&mdash;The Arctic fox&mdash;The lemming&mdash;The reindeer&mdash;The birds of
-  the tundra&mdash;Mosquitoes&mdash;(<a href="#n2">Notes, pp. 566-568</a>),</td>
- <td class="tdrb"><a href="#c5">63</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
- <td class="tdc" colspan="2">THE ASIATIC STEPPES AND THEIR FAUNA.</td></tr>
-
-<tr>
- <td class="tdl">The steppe in summer and in winter&mdash;The coming of spring&mdash;The rendezvous
-  in the reeds&mdash;The marsh-harrier&mdash;The home of larks&mdash;Jerboa
-  and souslik&mdash;The archar sheep&mdash;The kulan and the ancestry of the
-  horse&mdash;(<a href="#n3">Notes, pp. 568-571</a>),</td>
- <td class="tdrb"><a href="#c6">86</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
- <td class="tdc" colspan="2">THE FORESTS AND SPORT OF SIBERIA.</td></tr>
-
-<tr>
- <td class="tdl">An ice-wilderness or not&mdash;The forest zone&mdash;Axe and fire&mdash;The pines&mdash;Hunting
-  and trapping&mdash;The elk, the wolf, and the lynx&mdash;Sable
-  and other furred beasts&mdash;Bear-hunting and bear-stories&mdash;(<a href="#n4">Notes,
-  pp. 571-573</a>),</td>
- <td class="tdrb"><a href="#c7">120</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
- <td class="tdc" colspan="2">THE STEPPES OF INNER AFRICA.</td></tr>
-
-<tr>
- <td class="tdl">The progress of the seasons&mdash;A tropical thunderstorm&mdash;Night in the
- steppes&mdash;Spiders, scorpions, and snakes&mdash;Mudfish and other sleepers&mdash;Cleopatra’s
- asp&mdash;Geckos&mdash;The children of the air&mdash;The bateleur
- eagle&mdash;The ostrich&mdash;The night-jar&mdash;The mammals of the steppe&mdash;Stampede
- before a steppe-fire&mdash;(<a href="#n5">Notes, pp. 573-576</a>),</td>
- <td class="tdrb"><a href="#c8">168</a><span class="pagenum" id="Page_x">[Pg x]</span></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
- <td class="tdc" colspan="2">THE PRIMEVAL FORESTS OF CENTRAL AFRICA.</td></tr>
-
-<tr>
- <td class="tdl">Spring in the forest&mdash;The beautiful Hassanie&mdash;The baobab&mdash;Climbers and
- twiners&mdash;The forest birds and their voices&mdash;Sociable birds&mdash;Conjugal
- tenderness&mdash;Salt’s antelope&mdash;River monsters&mdash;A rain-lake&mdash;Hosanna
- in the highest&mdash;(<a href="#n6">Notes, pp. 576-578</a>),</td>
- <td class="tdrb"><a href="#c9">201</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
- <td class="tdc" colspan="2">MIGRATIONS OF MAMMALS.</td></tr>
-
-<tr>
- <td class="tdl">Black rats and brown&mdash;Cousin man’s kindness to the monkeys&mdash;Migration
- of mountain animals&mdash;The restlessness of the reindeer&mdash;Wandering
- herds of buffaloes&mdash;The life of the kulan&mdash;Travellers by sea&mdash;Flights
- of bats&mdash;The march of the lemmings&mdash;(<a href="#n7">Notes, pp. 578-581</a>),</td>
- <td class="tdrb"><a href="#c10">234</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
- <td class="tdc" colspan="2">LOVE AND COURTSHIP AMONG BIRDS.</td></tr>
-
-<tr>
- <td class="tdl">Are birds automata?&mdash;The battles of love&mdash;Different modes of courtship&mdash;Polygamy&mdash;Life-long
-  devotion&mdash;(<a href="#n8">Notes, p. 581</a>),</td>
- <td class="tdrb"><a href="#c11">259</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
- <td class="tdc" colspan="2">APES AND MONKEYS.</td></tr>
-
-<tr>
- <td class="tdl">Sheikh Kemal’s story&mdash;The monkey question&mdash;A general picture of
-  monkey life&mdash;Marmosets and other New World monkeys&mdash;Dog-like
-  and man-like Old World monkeys&mdash;Monkeys as pets&mdash;The true
-  position of monkeys&mdash;(<a href="#n9">Notes, pp. 581-583</a>),</td>
- <td class="tdrb"><a href="#c12">282</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
- <td class="tdc" colspan="2">DESERT JOURNEYS.</td></tr>
-
-<tr>
- <td class="tdl">An appreciation of the desert&mdash;The start of the caravan&mdash;The character
-  of the camel&mdash;A day’s journey&mdash;Oases&mdash;Simoom and sand storms&mdash;Fata
-  morgana&mdash;The peace of night&mdash;(<a href="#n10">Note, p. 583</a>),</td>
- <td class="tdrb"><a href="#c13">318</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
- <td class="tdc" colspan="2">NUBIA AND THE NILE RAPIDS.</td></tr>
-
-<tr>
- <td class="tdl">Egypt and Nubia contrasted&mdash;Wady Halfa and Philæ&mdash;The three great
-  cataracts&mdash;Journey up and down stream&mdash;The Nile boatmen&mdash;History
-  of Nubia&mdash;(<a href="#n11">Notes, pp. 583-584</a>),</td>
- <td class="tdrb"><a href="#c14">356</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
- <td class="tdc" colspan="2">A JOURNEY IN SIBERIA.</td></tr>
-
-<tr>
- <td class="tdl">Russian hospitality&mdash;A tedious journey&mdash;An excursion into Chinese
-  territory&mdash;Sport among the mountains&mdash;Journeying northwards&mdash;On
-  the track of splenic fever&mdash;(<a href="#n12">Notes, p. 584</a>),</td>
- <td class="tdrb"><a href="#c15">390</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
- <td class="tdc" colspan="2">THE HEATHEN OSTIAKS.</td></tr>
-
-<tr>
- <td class="tdl">Racial affinities&mdash;Christians and heathen&mdash;The dress of the Ostiaks&mdash;The
-  tshum of the wandering Ostiaks&mdash;The life of the herdsmen&mdash;A fishing
-  village&mdash;The Ostiak at the fair&mdash;An Ostiak wedding&mdash;An interview
-  with a Shaman&mdash;Funeral rites&mdash;(<a href="#n13">Notes, pp. 584-585</a>),</td>
- <td class="tdrb"><a href="#c16">416</a><span class="pagenum" id="Page_xi">[Pg xi]</span></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
- <td class="tdc" colspan="2">NOMAD HERDSMEN AND HERDS OF THE STEPPES.</td></tr>
-
-<tr>
- <td class="tdl">The name Kirghiz&mdash;Conditions of life on the steppe&mdash;Winter dwellings&mdash;Breaking
-  up the camp&mdash;In praise of the yurt&mdash;The herds of the
-  Kirghiz&mdash;The Kirghiz horse&mdash;Summer wanderings&mdash;“A sheep’s
-  journey”&mdash;Returning flocks&mdash;Evening in the aul&mdash;(<a href="#n14">Note, p. 585</a>),</td>
- <td class="tdrb"><a href="#c17">451</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
- <td class="tdc" colspan="2">FAMILY AND SOCIAL LIFE AMONG THE KIRGHIZ.</td></tr>
-
-<tr>
- <td class="tdl">The Kirghiz as horsemen&mdash;Racing and wrestling&mdash;Hunting with eagles
-  and greyhounds&mdash;A sheep-drive&mdash;The “red tongue”&mdash;Kirghiz bards&mdash;Education
-  and character&mdash;Kirghiz etiquette&mdash;The price of a bride&mdash;The
-  children&mdash;Funeral ceremonies,</td>
- <td class="tdrb"><a href="#c18">482</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
- <td class="tdc" colspan="2">COLONISTS AND EXILES IN SIBERIA.</td></tr>
-
-<tr>
- <td class="tdl">Mistaken impressions&mdash;Impartial observation&mdash;The emancipation of the
-  serfs&mdash;The Altai&mdash;Compulsory service&mdash;Condition of the peasants&mdash;The
-  superabundant harvest&mdash;Romance in Siberia&mdash;Domestic life open
-  to the convicts&mdash;The way of sighs&mdash;General picture of Siberian life&mdash;Runaways&mdash;(<a href="#n15">Notes,
-  pp. 585-586</a>),</td>
- <td class="tdrb"><a href="#c19">510</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
- <td class="tdc" colspan="2">AN ORNITHOLOGIST ON THE DANUBE.</td></tr>
-
-<tr>
- <td class="tdl">Twenty eyries&mdash;The voyage down the river&mdash;The woods on the banks&mdash;A
-  heronry&mdash;Sea-eagles&mdash;A paradise of birds&mdash;The marsh of Hullo&mdash;The
-  black vultures of Fruškagora&mdash;Homeward once more&mdash;(<a href="#n16">Note,
-  p.586</a>),</td>
- <td class="tdrb"><a href="#c20">540</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
- <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Index</span>,</td>
- <td class="tdrb"><a href="#c21">587</a></td></tr>
-
-</table>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_xii">[Pg xii]</span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter1">
-<img src="images/fig4.jpg" alt="" />
-</div>
-
-
-<hr class="full x-ebookmaker-drop" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_xiii">[Pg xiii]</span></p>
-
-<p class="ph2 sp">LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.</p>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="r5" />
-
-<table summary="illos">
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr"><span class="smcap">Fig.</span></td>
-  <td class="tdl"></td>
-  <td class="tdr">Page</td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr"></td>
-  <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Portrait of Alfred Edmund Brehm</span>,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f1"><i>Frontispiece</i></a>.</td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">1.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Scene on the Sogne Fjord, Norway,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f5">35</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">2.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Colony of Eider-ducks,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f6">44</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">3.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">The Bird-bergs of Lapland,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f7">51</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">4.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Razor-bills,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f8">61</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">5.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">The High Tundra in Northern Siberia,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f9">65</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">6.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Peregrine Falcons and Lemmings,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f10">70</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">7.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">The White or Arctic Fox (<i>Canis lagopus</i>),</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f11">73</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">8.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">The Reindeer (<i>Tarandus rangifer</i>),</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f12">76</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">9.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Skuas, Phalathrope, and Golden Plovers,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f13">80</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">10.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">View in the Asiatic Steppes,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f14">89</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">11.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">A Salt Marsh in the Steppes,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f15">90</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">12.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">A Herd of Horses during a Snowstorm on the Asiatic Steppes,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f16">94</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">13.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Lake Scene and Waterfowl in an Asiatic Steppe,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f17">99</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">14.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">The Souslik (<i>Spermophilus citillus</i>),</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f18">108</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">15.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">The Jerboa (<i>Alactaga jaculus</i>),</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f19">108</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">16.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Archar Sheep or Argali (<i>Ovis Argali</i>),</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f20">111</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">17.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Pallas’s Sand-grouse (<i>Syrrhaptes paradoxus</i>),</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f21">113</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">18.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">The Kulan (<i>Equus hemionus</i>),</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f22">118</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">19.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Reindeer Flocking to Drink,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f23">133</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">20.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Elk and Black-cock in a Siberian Forest,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f24">137</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">21.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">The Maral Stag,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f25">145</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">22.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">The Elk Hunter&mdash;A Successful Shot,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f26">148</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">23.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">A Siberian Method of Wolf-shooting,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f27">153</a></td></tr>
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">24.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Sable and Hazel-grouse in a Siberian Forest,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f28">159</a></td></tr>
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">25.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">The Bed of an Intermittent River, Central Africa,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f29">175</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">26.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Hills of African Termites, or White Ants,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f30">179</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">27.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Secretary-bird and Aspis,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f31">184</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">28.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">On an Ostrich Farm in South Africa,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f32">190</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">29.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Hyæna-dogs pursuing Antelope,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f33">196</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">30.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Zebras, Quaggas, and Ostriches flying before a Steppe Fire,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f34">199</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">31.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">The Baobab Tree, Central Africa,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f35">211</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">32.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Long-tailed Monkeys,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f36">222</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">33.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Salt’s Antelope (<i>Antilope Saltiana</i>),</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f37">224</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">34.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Crocodile and Crocodile-birds (<i>Pluxianus ægyptius</i>),</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f38">228</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">35.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">A Wild Duck defending her Brood from a Brown Rat,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f39">236</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">36.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">A Herd of American Bison or Buffalo,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f40">243</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">37.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Wild Horses crossing a River during a Storm,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f41">246</a><span class="pagenum" id="Page_xiv">[Pg xiv]</span></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">38.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Flying Foxes,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f42">251</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">39.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Springbok Antelopes,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f43">258</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">40.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">The Strutting of the Tragopan in Pairing-time,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f44">269</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">41.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Cock Chaffinches Fighting,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f45">274</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">42.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Entellus Monkeys (<i>Semnopithecus Entellus</i>),</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f46">285</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">43.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Common Marmoset or Ouistiti (<i>Hapale Jacchus</i>),</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f47">292</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">44.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Red Howling Monkeys (<i>Mycetis seniculus</i>),</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f48">295</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">45.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Old Baboon Rescuing Young One,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f49">301</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">46.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Macaque or Bonnet-monkey (<i>Macacus sinicus</i>) and Snake,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f50">307</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">47.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">The Hoolock (<i>Hylobates leuciscus</i>), one of the Gibbons,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f51">310</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">48.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Chimpanzee (<i>Troglodytes niger</i>),</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f52">313</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">49.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Caravan in the African Desert,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f53">323</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">50.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">An Encampment in the Sahara,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f54">328</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">51.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Gazelles lying near a Mimosa,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f55">332</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">52.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">An Oasis in the Desert of Sahara,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f56">343</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">53.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Band of Mounted Bedouins,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f57">353</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">54.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">An Egyptian <i>Sakieh</i> or Water-wheel,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f58">365</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">55.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">A Nubian Village on the Nile,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f59">374</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">56.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Nubian Children at Play,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f60">377</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">57.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">A Passage through the Nile Rapids,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f61">385</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">58.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">A Post Station in Siberia,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f62">395</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">59.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Imperial Eagle, Marmot, and Souslik,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f63">407</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">60.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">An Ostiak Settlement on the Banks of the Obi,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f64">409</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">61.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Huts and Winter Costume of the Christian Ostiaks,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f65">419</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">62.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">“Heathen” Ostiaks, Reindeer, and Tshums,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f66">424</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">63.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Ostiaks with Reindeer and Sledge,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f67">427</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">64.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Interior of an Ostiak Dwelling (Tshum),</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f68">435</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">65.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">The Burial of an Ostiak,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f69">449</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">66.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">The Home of a Wealthy Kirghiz,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f70">455</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">67.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Life among the Kirghiz&mdash;the Return from the Chase,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f71">461</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">68.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Kirghiz with Camels,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f72">467</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">69.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Kirghiz and their Herds on the March in the Mountains,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f73">471</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">70.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Kirghiz Aul, or Group of Tents,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f74">478</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">71.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Hunting the Wolf with the Golden Eagle,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f75">487</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">72.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Kirghiz in pursuit of Wild Sheep,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f76">489</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">73.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Frolic at a Kirghiz Wedding,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f77">505</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">74.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Miners in the Altai returning from Work,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f78">517</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">75.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Exiles on the Way to Siberia,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f79">527</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">76.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Interior of a Siberian Peasant’s Dwelling,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f80">532</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">77.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Types of Siberian Convicts&mdash;“Condemned to the Mines”,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f81">535</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">78.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Flight of an Exile in Siberia,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f82">538</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">79.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Herons and their Nests,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f83">544</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">80.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Rooks and their Nests,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f84">546</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">81.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Sea-eagles and Nest in a Danube Forest,</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f85">550</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr>
-  <td class="tdr">82.</td>
-  <td class="tdl">Nest of the Penduline Titmouse (<i>Parus Pendulinus</i>),</td>
-  <td class="tdr"><a href="#f86">562</a></td></tr>
-
-
-</table>
-
-<hr class="full x-ebookmaker-drop" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_xv">[Pg xv]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak sp" id="c3">INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="c sp">BY J. ARTHUR THOMSON.</p>
-
-<hr class="r5" />
-
-<p class="c sp more">BREHM’S PLACE AMONG NATURALIST-TRAVELLERS.</p>
-
-
-<p>Though Brehm’s lectures might well be left, as his son has said,
-to speak for themselves, it seems useful to introduce them in their
-English dress with some notes on the evolution of the naturalist-traveller
-and on Brehm’s place in the honourable list; for an adequate
-appreciation of a book like this depends in part on a recognition
-of the position it occupies among analogous works, and on having
-some picture of the illustrious author himself.</p>
-
-<p>In sketching the history of the naturalist-traveller it is not
-necessary to go very far back; for though it is interesting to recall
-how men of old followed their migrating herds, as the Lapp or
-Ostiak does his reindeer, and were led by them to fresh fields and
-new conquests, or how others followed the salmon down the rivers
-and became the toilers of the sea, this ancient lore is full of uncertainty,
-and is, besides, of more moment to the sociologist than to the
-naturalist. What we attempt here is merely to indicate the various
-types of naturalist-traveller who have in the course of time succeeded
-one another in the quest for the new.</p>
-
-
-<p class="c large">I.</p>
-
-<p>The foundations of zoology were laid by Aristotle some three
-hundred years before Christ, but they remained unbuilt on for
-nearly eighteen centuries. Here and there some enthusiast strove
-unaided, but only a fragmentary superstructure was reared. In fact,
-men were pre-occupied with tasks of civilization more serious than
-the prosecution of zoology, though that is not trivial. Gradually,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_xvi">[Pg xvi]</span>
-however, great social movements, such as the Crusades and the
-collapse of Feudalism; great intellectual and emotional movements,
-such as those of the Renaissance; great inventions, such as that
-of printing, gave new life to Europe, and zoology shared in the
-re-awakening. Yet the natural history of the Middle Ages was in
-great part mystical; fancy and superstition ran riot along paths
-where science afterwards established order, and, for all practical
-purposes, the history of zoology, apart from the efforts of a few
-pioneers, may be said to date from the sixteenth century.</p>
-
-<p>Now, one indubitable factor in the scientific renaissance of the
-sixteenth century was the enthusiasm of the early travellers, and
-this stimulus, periodically recurrent, has never failed to have a
-similar effect&mdash;of giving new life to science. But while science, and
-zoology as a branch of it, has been evolving during the last three
-centuries, the traveller, too, has shared in the evolution. It is this
-which we wish to trace.</p>
-
-<p>I. <span class="smcap">The Romantic Type.</span> Many of the old travellers, from
-Herodotus onwards, were observant and enthusiastic; most were
-credulous and garrulous. In days when the critical spirit was
-young, and verification hardly possible, there could not but be a
-strong temptation to tell extraordinary “travellers’ tales”. And
-they did. Nor need we scoff at them loudly, for the type dies hard;
-every year such tales are told.</p>
-
-<p>Oderico de Pordenone and other mediæval travellers who give
-some substance to the mythical Sir John de Maundeville were
-travellers of this genial type. Oderico describes an interesting
-connecting link between the animal and vegetable kingdom, a
-literal “zoophyte”, the “vegetable lamb”, which seems to have
-been a woolly Scythian fern, with its counterpart in the large fungus
-which colonials sometimes speak of as the “vegetable sheep”.
-As for the pretended Sir John, he had in his power of swallowing
-marvels a gape hardly less than that of the great snakes
-which he describes. But even now do we not see his snakes in at
-least the picture-books on which innocent youth is nurtured? The
-basilisk (one of the most harmless of lizards) “sleyeth men beholding
-it”; the “cocodrilles also sley men”&mdash;they do indeed&mdash;“and eate<span class="pagenum" id="Page_xvii">[Pg xvii]</span>
-them weeping, and they have no tongue”. “The griffin of Bactria
-hath a body greater than eight lyons and stall worthier than a
-hundred egles, for certainly he will beare to his nest flying, a horse
-and a man upon his back.” He was not readily daunted, Sir John,
-for when they told him of the lamb-tree which bears lambs in its
-pods, his British pluck did not desert him, and he gave answer that
-he “held it for no marvayle, for in his country are trees which bear
-fruit which become birds flying, and they are good to eate, and that
-that falleth on the water, liveth, and that that falleth on earth,
-dyeth; and <i>they</i> marvailed much thereat”. The tale of the barnacle-tree
-was a trump card in those days!</p>
-
-<p>Another example of this type, but rising distinctly above it in
-trustworthiness, was the Venetian Marco Polo, who in the thirteenth
-century explored Asia from the Black Sea to Pekin,
-from the Altai to Sumatra, and doubtless saw much, though not
-quite so much as he describes. He will correct the fables of his
-predecessors, he tells us, demonstrating gravely that the unicorn
-or rhinoceros does <i>not</i> allow himself to be captured by a gentle
-maiden, but he proceeds to describe tailed men, yea, headless men,
-without, so far as can be seen, any touch of sarcasm. Of how many
-marvels, from porcupines throwing off their spines and snakes with
-clawed fore-feet, to the great Rukh, which could bear not merely
-a poor Sinbad but an elephant through the air, is it not written in
-the books of Ser Marco Polo of Venezia?</p>
-
-<p>II. <span class="smcap">The Encyclopædist Type.</span>&mdash;This unwieldy title, suggestive
-of an omnivorous hunger for knowledge, is conveniently, as well as
-technically, descriptive of a type of naturalist characteristic of the
-early years of the scientific renaissance. Edward Wotton (d. 1555),
-the Swiss Gesner (d. 1565), the Italian Aldrovandi (d. 1605), the
-Scotsman Johnson (d. 1675), are good examples. These encyclopædists
-were at least impressed with the necessity of getting close
-to the facts of nature, of observing for themselves, and we cannot
-blame them much if their critical faculties were dulled by the
-strength of their enthusiasm. They could not all at once forget
-the mediæval dreams, nor did they make any strenuous effort to
-rationalize the materials which they so industriously gathered.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_xviii">[Pg xviii]</span>
-They harvested but did not thrash. Ostrich-like, their appetite was
-greater than their power of digesting. A hasty judgment might
-call them mere compilers, for they gathered all possible information
-from all sources, but, on closer acquaintance, the encyclopædists
-grow upon one. Their industry was astounding, their ambition
-lofty; and they prepared the way for men like Ray and Linnæus,
-in whom was the genius of order.</p>
-
-<p>Associated with this period there were many naturalist-travellers,
-most of whom are hardly now remembered, save perhaps when we
-repeat the name of some plant or animal which commemorates its
-discoverer. José d’Acosta (d. 1600), a missionary in Peru, described
-some of the gigantic fossils of South America; Francesco Hernanded
-published about 1615 a book on the natural history of Mexico with
-1200 illustrations; Marcgrav and Piso explored Brazil; Jacob Bontius,
-the East Indies; Prosper Alpinus, Egypt; Belon, the Mediterranean
-region; and there were many others. But it is useless to multiply
-what must here remain mere citations of names. The point is
-simply this, that, associated with the marvellous accumulative industry
-of the encyclopædists and with the renaissance of zoology
-in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, there were numerous
-naturalist-travellers who described what they saw, and not what
-they fancied might be seen.</p>
-
-<p>III. <span class="smcap">The General Naturalist Type.</span>&mdash;As Ray (d. 1705) and
-Linnæus (d. 1778) began to reduce to order the accumulations of
-the encyclopædists, and as the anatomists and physiologists began
-the precise study of structure and function, the naturalist-travellers
-became more definite in their aims and more accurate in their
-observations. Linnæus himself sent several of his pupils on precisely
-scientific journeys. Moreover, in the eighteenth century there
-were not a few expeditions of geographical and physical purpose
-which occasionally condescended to take a zoologist on board.
-Thus Captain Cook was accompanied on his first voyage (1768-1781)
-by Banks and Solander, and on his second voyage by the
-Forsters, father and son. On his third voyage he expressly forbade
-the intrusion of any naturalist, but from all that we can gather it
-would have been better for himself if he had not done so. In<span class="pagenum" id="Page_xix">[Pg xix]</span>
-these combined voyages there was nascent the idea of co-operative
-expeditions, of which the greatest has been that of the <i>Challenger</i>.</p>
-
-<p>In illustration of travellers who were not specialists, but in
-varying degrees widely interested naturalists, it will be sufficient to
-cite three names&mdash;Thomas Pennant, Peter Pallas, and, greatest of all,
-Alexander von Humboldt.</p>
-
-<p>Of Thomas Pennant (1726-1798) we may note that he was one
-of the early travellers in Scotland, which was then, as he says,
-almost as unknown as Kamchatka, and that he extorted from Dr.
-Johnson the admission, “He’s a Whig, sir, a sad dog; but he’s the
-best traveller I ever read; he observes more things than any one
-else does”. He knew Buffon and corresponded with Linnæus, and
-was the author of several works on British and North American
-zoology. His so-called <i>Arctic Zoology</i> is mainly a sketch of the
-fauna in the northern regions of North America, begun “when the
-empire of Great Britain was entire, and possessed the northern part
-of the New World with envied splendour”. His perspective is
-excellent! the botanist, the fossilist, the historian, the geographer
-must, he says, accompany him on his zoological tours, “to trace the
-gradual increase of the animal world from the scanty pittance given
-to the rocks of Spitzbergen to the swarms of beings which enliven
-the vegetating plains of Senegal; to point out the causes of the
-local niggardness of certain places, and the prodigious plenty in
-others”. It was about the same time (1777) that E. A. W. Zimmermann,
-Professor of Mathematics at Brunswick, published a quarto
-in Latin, entitled <i>Specimen Zoologiæ Geographicæ Quadrupedum</i>,
-“with a most curious map”, says Pennant, “in which is given the
-name of every animal in its proper climate, so that a view of the
-whole quadruped creation is placed before one’s eyes, in a manner
-perfectly new and instructive”. It was wonderful then, but the
-map in question looks commonplace enough nowadays.</p>
-
-<p>Peter Simon Pallas (1741-1811) was a student of medicine and
-natural science, and did good work as a systematic and anatomical
-zoologist. He was the first, we believe, to express the relationships
-of animals in a genealogical tree, but his interest for us here lies in
-his zoological exploration of Russia and Siberia, the results of which<span class="pagenum" id="Page_xx">[Pg xx]</span>
-are embodied in a series of bulky volumes, admirable in their careful
-thoroughness. We rank him rather as one of the forerunners of
-Humboldt than as a zoologist, for his services to ethnology and
-geology were of great importance. He pondered over the results of
-his explorations, and many of his questionings in regard to geographical
-distribution, the influence of climate, the variation of animals,
-and similar problems, were prophetic of the light which was soon to
-dawn on biological science.</p>
-
-<p>Alexander von Humboldt (1769-1859) was undoubtedly one of
-the greatest naturalists of the century which his life well nigh
-covered. Geologist, botanist, zoologist, and more, he was almost
-the last of the all-round naturalists. In this indeed lay his weakness
-as well as his strength, for great breadth of view is apt to
-imply a lack of precision as to details. In boyhood, “when life”,
-as he says, “appears an unlimited horizon”, he had strong desires
-after travel, which were in part gratified by excursions with George
-Forster and by Swiss explorations with the sagacious old geographer
-Leopold von Buch. These, however, only whetted his enthusiasm
-for journeys with a larger radius. At length, after many discouragements,
-he sailed in 1799 from Corunna, with Aimé Bonpland
-as companion, and spent five years in exploring the equinoctial
-regions of the New World. The full record of his voyage one
-cannot be expected to read, for there are about thirty volumes of it
-in the complete edition, but what we should all know is Humboldt’s
-<i>Personal Narrative</i>, in which the chief results of his explorations
-are charmingly set forth. Later in life (1829) he went with Ehrenberg
-and Rose to North Asia, and his crowning work was the
-publication of <i>Cosmos</i> (1845-58), which originated in a series of
-lectures delivered in the University of Berlin. In front of that
-building his statue now stands, along with that of his not less
-famous brother Wilhelm.</p>
-
-<p>We think of Humboldt not so much as an early explorer of
-tropical America, nor because he described the habits of the condor
-and made observations on electric eels, nor because he furnished
-Cuvier and Latreille with many new specimens, but rather as a
-magnificent type of the naturalist-traveller, observant, widely interested,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_xxi">[Pg xxi]</span>
-and thoughtful, who pointed forward to Darwin in the
-success with which he realized the complexity of inter-relations
-in nature. Many a traveller, even among his contemporaries, discovered
-more new plants and animals than the author of <i>Cosmos</i>,
-but none approached him as an all-round naturalist, able to look
-out on all orders of facts with keenly intelligent eyes, a man, moreover,
-in whom devotion to science never dulled poetic feeling. His
-work is of real importance in the history of geographical distribution,
-for he endeavoured to interpret the peculiarities of the
-various faunas in connection with the peculiar environment of the
-different regions&mdash;a consideration which is at least an element in
-the solution of some of the problems of distribution. It is especially
-important in regard to plants, and one may perhaps say that Humboldt,
-by his vivid pictures of the vegetable “physiognomy” of
-different regions, and by his observations on the relations between
-climate and flora, laid the foundations of the scientific study of the
-geographical distribution of plants. We find in some of his <i>Charakterbilder</i>,
-for example in his <i>Views of Nature</i>, the prototype
-of those synthetic pictures which give Brehm’s popular lectures
-their peculiar interest and value.</p>
-
-<p>IV. <span class="smcap">The Specialist Type.</span>&mdash;It would say little for scientific
-discipline if it were true that a man learned, let us say, in zoology,
-could spend years in a new country without having something
-fresh to tell us about matters outside of his specialism&mdash;the rocks,
-the plants, and the people. But it is not true. There have been
-few great travellers who have been narrow specialists, and one
-might find more than one case of a naturalist starting on his travels
-as a zoologist and returning an anthropologist as well. Yet it is
-evident enough that few men can be master of more than one craft.
-There have been few travellers like Humboldt, few records like
-Darwin’s <i>Voyage of the Beagle</i> (1831-6). Hence we recognize more
-and more as we approach our own day that naturalist-travellers
-have been successful either as specialists, or, on the other hand, in
-so far as they have furnished material for generalization (Type V.).
-The specialism may of course take various forms: a journey may
-be undertaken by one who is purely an ornithologist, or it may<span class="pagenum" id="Page_xxii">[Pg xxii]</span>
-be undertaken with one particular problem in view, or it may be
-organized, like the <i>Challenger</i> expedition, with the co-operation of a
-number of specialists.</p>
-
-<p>The French took the lead in organizing zoological expeditions.
-As early as 1800 they sent out the <i>Géographe</i>, <i>Naturaliste</i>, and
-<i>Casuarina</i>, zoologically conducted by Bury de St. Vincent, Péron,
-and Lesueur. Further expeditions followed with Quoy and Gaimard,
-Lesson, Eydoux, Souleyet, Dupetit-Thouars, and others as zoological
-guides. The English whaling industry gave early opportunity to
-not a few naturalists; and it is now a long time since Hooker went
-with Sir James Ross on the South Polar expedition and Huxley
-went on the <i>Rattlesnake</i> to the Australian Barrier Reef. The
-Russians were also active, one of the more famous travellers being
-Kotzebue, who was accompanied on one of his two voyages (1823-6)
-round the world by Chamisso and Eschscholtz. In the early part
-of this century the Americans were also enterprising, the work of
-Dana being perhaps the most noteworthy. It would require several
-pages to mention even the names of the naturalists who have had
-their years of wandering, and have added their pages and sketches
-to the book of the world’s fauna and flora, but such an enumeration
-would serve no useful purpose here.</p>
-
-<p>There is, however, one form of zoological exploration which
-deserves a chapter to itself, that is the exploration of the Deep Sea.
-Several generations of marine zoologists had been at work before
-a zoology of the deep sea was dreamed of even as a possibility. It
-is true that in 1818 Sir John Ross had found a star-fish (<i>Astrophyton</i>)
-at a depth of 800-1000 fathoms, but this was forgotten;
-and in 1841 Edward Forbes dredged to no purpose in fairly deep
-water in the Ægean Sea. Indeed those who thought about the
-great depths at all deemed it unlikely that there could be life there,
-and if it had not been for the practical affair of laying the ocean
-cables, we might possibly have been still in ignorance of the abyssal
-fauna.</p>
-
-<p>But the cables had to be laid&mdash;no easy task&mdash;and it became
-important to know at least the topography of the depths. Cables
-broke, too, and had to be fished up again, and when that which ran<span class="pagenum" id="Page_xxiii">[Pg xxiii]</span>
-between Sardinia and Algiers was lifted, in 1860, from a depth of
-60-1000 fathoms, no less than 15 different species of animals were
-found on it. This was a discovery to fire enthusiasm, and Britain
-led the way in following it up. In 1868 Wyville Thomson began
-his explorations on the <i>Lightning</i>, and proved that most of the
-types of backboneless animals were represented at depths of at least
-600 fathoms. Soon followed the similar cruise of the <i>Porcupine</i>,
-famous <i>inter alia</i> for the discovery of Bathybius, which many
-sceptics regard as a mare’s nest. From various quarters the quest
-after the deep-sea fauna began to be prosecuted.</p>
-
-<p>It is now more than a score of years since the world-famous
-<i>Challenger</i> sailed from Portsmouth with Wyville Thomson, Moseley,
-John Murray, and Willemoes-Suhm as naturalists. During three
-and a half years the explorers cruised over 68,900 nautical miles,
-crossed the Atlantic no less than five times, reached with the long
-arm of the dredge to depths equal to reversed Himalayas, raised
-treasures of life from over 500 stations, and brought home spoils
-over which the savants of Europe have hardly ceased to be busy,
-and the records of which, now completed under Dr. Murray’s editorship,
-form a library of about forty huge volumes.</p>
-
-<p>The <i>Challenger</i> expedition was important not only in itself, but
-in the wave of scientific enthusiasm which it raised. From Germany
-went forth the <i>Gazelle</i>; Norway sent the <i>Vöringen</i> to Spitzbergen;
-America has despatched the <i>Tuscarora</i>, the <i>Blake</i>, and the <i>Albatross</i>;
-from Sweden the <i>Vega</i> and the <i>Sophia</i> sailed to Arctic seas:
-Count Liechtenstein’s yacht <i>Hertha</i> explored Adria; the Prince of
-Monaco’s <i>Hirondelle</i> darted hither and thither; the French sent
-forth the <i>Travailleur</i> and <i>Talisman</i>; the Italians the <i>Vettor Pisani</i>
-and <i>Washington</i>; Austria and Hungary organized the <i>Poli</i> for
-work in the Mediterranean; the Germans again have recently
-specialized in investigating the Plankton, or surface-life of the ocean;
-and so, with a range even wider than we have indicated, the wave
-of enthusiasm has spread, one of the latest barques which it has
-borne being the Prince of Monaco’s, which was specially built for
-marine exploration.</p>
-
-<p>Specialism in travelling has, of course, gone much further.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_xxiv">[Pg xxiv]</span>
-Thus to cite only three examples, we have Semper’s zoological
-work on the Philippines, the researches of the Sarasins in Ceylon,
-and the first results of Semon’s recent visit to Australasia, all of
-them passing far beyond records of zoological exploration into
-monographs on the structure and development of characteristic
-members of the fauna of these countries. And it is no exaggeration
-to say that private enterprise, Royal Society subsidies, British
-Association grants, and the like have sent scores of naturalists from
-Britain half round the world in order to solve special problems, as
-to the larva of a worm, for instance, or as to the bird-fauna of some
-little island.</p>
-
-<p>V. <span class="smcap">The Biological Type.</span> In some ways the most important
-scientific journey ever made was Darwin’s voyage on the <i>Beagle</i>.
-It was the Columbus-voyage of zoology. There is a great deal to
-be said for the <i>Wanderjahre</i> of the old students, for to have time
-to think is one of the conditions of intellectual progress. Not
-that the <i>Beagle</i> voyage was one of idleness, but it gave Darwin, at
-the age of twenty-two, a wealth of impressions and some measure
-of enforced leisure wherein to gloat intellectually over what he
-saw. He has said, indeed, that various sets of facts observed on
-his voyage, such as the aspect of the Galapagos Islands, started him
-on paths of pondering which eventually led to his theory of the
-origin of species.</p>
-
-<p>We take Darwin as the type of the biological, or, we may almost
-say, evolutionist travellers; but he must share this position with
-his magnanimous colleague, Alfred Russel Wallace, whose journeyings
-were more prolonged and not less fruitful. Before Darwin
-the naturalist-travellers had been, for the most part, describers,
-systematists, and analysts, and it goes without saying that such
-work is indispensable, and must continue; but in the light of the
-conception of evolution all things had become new; the present
-world of life was henceforth seen as a stage in a process, as a passing
-act in a drama, not merely as a phantasmagoria to be admired and
-pictured, but as a growth to be understood.</p>
-
-<p>It is within this group of biological travellers, which includes
-such men as Bates and Belt, that we must also place Brehm. For<span class="pagenum" id="Page_xxv">[Pg xxv]</span>
-although he perhaps had not the firmness of grasp or the fineness
-of touch necessary for the successful handling of the more intricate
-biological problems, especially those which centre around the factors
-of evolution, he had unusual power as an observer of the habits of
-animals. His contributions, which must be judged, of course, from
-his great <i>Tierleben</i>,<a id="FNanchor_1" href="#Footnote_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a> as well as from his popular lectures, were
-rather to the old natural history than to biology in the stricter
-sense. His works show that he was as much interested in men as
-in beasts, that he was specially an ornithologist, that he was beneath
-the naturalist a sportsman; but so scores of other travellers have
-been. His particular excellence is his power of observing and
-picturing animal life <i>as it is lived in nature</i>, without taking
-account of which biology is a mockery and any theory of evolution
-a one-sided dogma.</p>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_1" href="#FNanchor_1" class="label">[A]</a> This well-known treasure-house of Natural History appeared originally in 1863-69 in six
-big volumes, which have since increased to ten. Even the first edition took a foremost place
-among similar works on the Natural History of Animals. With a wealth of personal observation
-on the habits of animals in their native haunts, it combined the further charm of very
-beautiful pictorial illustration.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p>Let us now bring together briefly the outstanding facts of this
-historical outline.</p>
-
-<p>In early days men followed their wandering herds or pursued
-their prey from region to region, or were driven by force of competition
-or of hunger to new lands. Many of the most eventful
-journeys have been among those which had to be taken.</p>
-
-<p>I. Gradually, intellectual curiosity rather than practical need
-became the prompter, and men travelled with all manner of mixed
-aims seeking what was new. When they returned they told travellers’
-tales, mostly in as good faith as their hunting ancestors had
-done in the caves of a winter night, or as the modern traveller does
-after dinner still. We pass insensibly from Herodotus to Marco
-Polo, from “Sir John Maundeville” to Mr. X. Y. Z., whose book was
-published last spring. This is the type romantic.</p>
-
-<p>II. But when science shared in the renaissance there ensued the
-extraordinary industry of the encyclopædist school, with which
-many naturalist-travellers were associated. Some of these were
-great men&mdash;perhaps Gesner was greatest of all&mdash;but all had the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_xxvi">[Pg xxvi]</span>
-defects of their qualities. They gathered into stackyards both
-wheat and tares, and seldom found time to thrash. The type
-survives afield in the mere collector, and its degenerate sedentary
-representatives are called compilers.</p>
-
-<p>III. Just as Buffon represents the climax of the encyclopædists,
-and is yet something more, for he thrashed his wheat, so Humboldt,
-while as ambitious as any encyclopædist traveller, transcended them
-all by vitalizing the wealth of impressions which he gathered. He
-was <i>the</i> general naturalist-traveller, who took all nature for his
-province, and does not seem to have been embarrassed. Of successful
-representatives of this type there are few, since Darwin perhaps
-none.</p>
-
-<p>IV. Meanwhile Linnæus had brought order, Cuvier had founded
-his school of anatomists, Haller had re-organized physiology, the
-microscope had deepened analysis, and zoology came of age as a
-specialism. Henceforth travellers’ tales were at a discount; even
-a Humboldt might be contradicted, and platitudinarian narratives
-of a voyage round the world ceased to find the publisher sympathetic
-or the public appetized. The naturalist-traveller was now
-a zoologist, or a botanist, or an ornithologist, or an entomologist;
-at any rate, a specialist. But it was sometimes found profitable to
-work in companies, as in the case of the <i>Challenger</i> expedition.</p>
-
-<p>V. Lastly, we find that on the travellers, too, “evolution” cast
-its spell, and we have Darwin and Wallace as the types of the
-biological travellers, whose results go directly towards the working
-out of a cosmology. From Bates and Belt and Brehm there is a
-long list down to Dr. Hickson, <i>The Naturalist in Celebes</i>, and Mr.
-Hudson, <i>The Naturalist in La Plata</i>. Not, of course, that most
-are not specialists, but the particular interest of their work is
-biological or bionomical.</p>
-
-<p>I have added to this essay a list of some of the most important
-works of the more recent naturalist-travellers with which I am
-directly acquainted, being convinced that it is with these that the
-general, and perhaps also the professional student of natural history
-should begin, as it is with them that his studies must also end.
-For, not only do they introduce us, in a manner usually full of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_xxvii">[Pg xxvii]</span>
-interest, to the nature of animal life, but they lead us to face one
-of the ultimate problems of biology&mdash;the evolution of faunas.</p>
-
-
-<p class="c large">II.</p>
-
-<p>Alfred Edmund Brehm (1829-1884) was born at Unter-Renthendorf
-in Sachsen-Weimar, where his father&mdash;an accomplished ornithologist&mdash;was
-pastor. Brought up among birds, learning to watch
-from his earliest boyhood, accompanying his father in rambles
-through the Thuringian forest, questioning and being questioned
-about all the sights and sounds of the woods, listening to the
-experts who came to see the famous collection in the <i>Pfarr-haus</i>,
-and to argue over questions of species with the kindly pastor, young
-Brehm was almost bound to become a naturalist. And while the
-father stuffed his birds in the evenings the mother read aloud from
-Goethe and Schiller, and her poetic feeling was echoed in her son.
-Yet, so crooked are life’s ways, the youth became an architect’s
-apprentice, and acted as such for four years!</p>
-
-<p>But an opportunity presented itself which called him, doubtless
-most willing, from the desk and workshop. Baron John Wilhelm
-von Müller, a keen sportsman and lover of birds, sought an assistant
-to accompany him on an ornithological expedition to Africa, and
-with him the youth, not yet out of his teens, set forth in 1847. It
-was a great opportunity, but the price paid for it was heavy, for
-Brehm did not see his home again for full five years, and was forced
-to bear strains, to incur responsibilities, and to suffer privations,
-which left their mark on him for life. Only those who know the
-story of his African journeys, and what African travel may be
-with repeated fevers and inconsiderately crippled resources, can
-adequately appreciate the restraint which Brehm displays in those
-popular lectures, here translated, where there is so much of everything
-but himself.</p>
-
-<p>After he returned, in 1852, rich in spoils and experience, if
-otherwise poor, he spent several sessions at the universities of Jena
-and Vienna. Though earnestly busy in equipping himself for further
-work, he was not too old to enjoy the pleasures of a student life.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_xxviii">[Pg xxviii]</span>
-When he took his doctor’s degree he published an account of his
-travels (<i>Reiseskizzen aus Nordostafrica.</i> Jena, 1855, 3 vols.).</p>
-
-<p>After a zoological holiday in Spain with his like-minded brother
-Reinhold&mdash;a physician in Madrid&mdash;he settled for a time in Leipzig,
-writing for the famous “<i>Gartenlaube</i>”, co-operating with Rossmässler
-in bringing out <i>Die Tiere des Waldes</i>, expressing his very
-self in his <i>Bird-Life</i> (1861), and teaching in the schools. It was
-during this period that he visited Lapland, of whose bird-bergs the
-first lecture gives such a vivid description. In 1861 he married
-Matthilde Reiz, who proved herself the best possible helpmeet.</p>
-
-<p>In 1862, Brehm went as scientific guide on an excursion to
-Abyssinia undertaken by the Duke of Coburg-Gotha, and subsequently
-published a characteristic account of his observations
-<i>Ergebnisse einer Reise nach Habesch</i>: Results of a Journey to
-Abyssinia (Hamburg, 1863). On his return he began his world-famous
-<i>Tierleben</i> (Animal Life), which has been a treasure-house to
-so many naturalists. With the collaboration of Professors Taschenberg
-and Oscar Schmidt, he completed the first edition of this great
-work, in six volumes, in 1869.</p>
-
-<p>Meanwhile he had gone to Hamburg as Director of the Zoological
-Gardens there, but the organizing work seems to have suited
-him ill, and he soon resigned. With a freer hand, he then undertook
-the establishment of the famous Berlin Aquarium, in which he
-partly realized his dream of a microcosmic living museum of nature.
-But, apart from his actual work, the business-relations were ever
-irksome, and in 1874 he was forced by ill-health and social friction
-to abandon his position.</p>
-
-<p>After recovery from serious illness he took up his rôle as popular
-lecturer and writer, and as such he had many years of happy
-success. A book on Cage Birds (1872-1876), and a second edition
-of the <i>Tierleben</i> date from this period, which was also interrupted
-by his Siberian journeys (1876) and by numerous ornithological
-expeditions, for instance to Hungary and Spain, along with the
-Crown Prince Rudolph of Austria. But hard work, family sorrows,
-and finally, perhaps, the strain of a long lecturing tour in America
-aged Brehm before his time, and he died in 1884.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_xxix">[Pg xxix]</span></p>
-
-<p>For these notes I am indebted to a delightful appreciation of
-Brehm which Ernest Krause has written in introduction to the third
-edition of the <i>Tierleben</i>, edited by Pechuel-Loesche, and as regards
-the naturalist’s character I can only refer to that essay. As to his
-published work, however, every naturalist knows at least the
-<i>Tierleben</i>, and on that a judgment may be safely based. It is a
-monumental work on the habits of animals, founded in great part
-on personal observation, which was always keen and yet sympathetic.
-It is a classic on the natural history of animals, and readers
-of Darwin will remember how the master honoured it.</p>
-
-<p>Doubtless Brehm had the defects of his qualities. He was, it is
-said, too generous to animals, and sometimes read the man into the
-beast unwarrantably. But that is an anthropomorphism which
-easily besets the sympathetic naturalist. He was sometimes extravagant
-and occasionally credulous. He did not exactly grip some
-of the subjects he tackled, such as, if I must specify, what he calls
-“the monkey-question”.</p>
-
-<p>It is frankly allowed that he was no modern biologist, erudite as
-regards evolution-factors, nor did he profess to attempt what is
-called zoological analysis, and what is often mere necrology, but his
-merit is that he had seen more than most of us, and had seen,
-above all, the naturalist’s supreme vision&mdash;the vibrating web of life.
-And he would have us see it also.</p>
-
-
-<p class="c large">III.</p>
-
-<p>The success of the pictures which Brehm has given us&mdash;of bird-bergs
-and tundra, of steppes and desert, of river fauna and tropical
-forest&mdash;raises the wish that they had been complete enough to
-embrace the whole world. As this ideal, so desirable both from an
-educational and an artistic standpoint, has not been realized by any
-one volume, we have ventured to insert here a list of some more
-or less analogous English works by naturalist-travellers, sportsmen,
-and others&mdash;</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-
-<p>Adams, A. Leith. <i>Notes of a Naturalist in the Nile Valley and Malta</i> (Edinburgh,
-1870).</p>
-
-<p>Agassiz, A. <i>Three Cruises of the “Blake”</i> (Boston and New York, 1888).</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_xxx">[Pg xxx]</span></p>
-
-<p>Baker, S. W. <i>Wild Beasts and their Ways: Reminiscences of Europe, Asia, Africa,
-and America</i> (London, 1890).</p>
-
-<p>Bates, H. W. <i>Naturalist on the Amazons</i> (6th Ed. London, 1893).</p>
-
-<p>Belt, T. <i>Naturalist in Nicaragua</i> (2nd Ed. London, 1888).</p>
-
-<p>Bickmore, A. S. <i>Travels in the East Indian Archipelago</i> (1868).</p>
-
-<p>Blanford, W. T. <i>Observations on the Geology and Zoology of Abyssinia</i> (London,
-1870).</p>
-
-<p>Bryden, H. A. <i>Gun and Camera in Southern Africa</i> (London, 1893). <i>Kloof and
-Karroo</i> (1889).</p>
-
-<p>Burnaby, F. <i>A Ride to Khiva</i> (8th Ed. London, 1877).</p>
-
-<p>Buxton, E. N. <i>Short Stalks, or Hunting Camps, North, South, East, and West</i>
-(London, 1893).</p>
-
-<p>Chapman, A. and C. M. Buck. <i>Wild Spain</i> (London, 1892).</p>
-
-<p>Cunningham, R. O. <i>Notes on the Natural History of the Straits of Magellan</i>
-(Edinburgh, 1871).</p>
-
-<p>Darwin, C. <i>Voyage of the “Beagle”</i> (1844, New Ed. London, 1890).</p>
-
-<p>Distant, W. L. <i>A Naturalist in the Transvaal</i> (London, 1892).</p>
-
-<p>Drummond, H. <i>Tropical Africa</i> (London, 1888).</p>
-
-<p>Du Chaillu, P. B. <i>Explorations and Adventures in Equatorial Africa</i> (London,
-1861). <i>Ashango Land</i> (1867).</p>
-
-<p>Eha. <i>A Naturalist on the Prowl, or in the Jungle</i> (London, 1894).</p>
-
-<p>Forbes, H. O. <i>A Naturalist’s Wanderings in the Eastern Archipelago</i> (London,
-1885).</p>
-
-<p>Guillemard. <i>Cruise of the “Marchesa”</i> (London, 1886).</p>
-
-<p>Heilprin, A. <i>The Bermuda Islands</i> (Philadelphia, 1889).</p>
-
-<p>Hickson, S. J. <i>A Naturalist in North Celebes</i> (London, 1889).</p>
-
-<p>Holub, Emil. <i>Seven Years in South Africa</i> (1881).</p>
-
-<p>Hudson, W. H. <i>The Naturalist in La Plata</i> (London, 1892).
-<i>Idle Days in Patagonia</i> (London, 1893).</p>
-
-<p>Humboldt, A. von. <i>Personal Narrative of Travels to the Equinoctial Regions of
-America.</i> <i>Views of Nature</i> (Trans. 1849). <i>Cosmos</i> (Trans. 1849-58).</p>
-
-<p>Johnston, H. H. <i>Kilima Ndjaro Expedition</i> (1885).</p>
-
-<p>Kingsley, C. <i>At last! A Christmas in the West Indies</i> (1889).</p>
-
-<p>Lumholtz. <i>Among Cannibals</i> (London, 1889).</p>
-
-<p>Moseley, H. N. <i>Notes by a Naturalist on the “Challenger”</i> (London, 1879. New
-Ed. 1892).</p>
-
-<p>Nordenskiöld, A. E. <i>Voyage of the “Vega”</i> (London, 1881).</p>
-
-<p>Oates, F., Ed. by C. G. Oates. <i>Matabele Land, the Victoria Falls, a Naturalist’s
-Wanderings in the Interior of South Africa</i> (1881).</p>
-
-<p>Phillipps-Wolley. <i>Big-Game Shooting</i> (Badminton Libr. London, 1893).</p>
-
-<p>Rodway, J. <i>In the Guiana Forest</i> (London, 1894). <i>British Guiana</i> (London,
-1893).</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_xxxi">[Pg xxxi]</span></p>
-
-<p>Roosevelt, Th., and G. B. Grinell. <i>American Big-Game Hunting</i> (Edinburgh,
-1893).</p>
-
-<p>Schweinfurth, G. <i>The Heart of Africa</i> (1878).</p>
-
-<p>Seebohm, H. <i>Siberia in Europe</i> (London, 1880), <i>Siberia in Asia</i> (London, 1882).</p>
-
-<p>Selous, F. C. <i>A Hunter’s Wanderings</i> (1881). <i>Travel and Adventure in South-East
-Africa</i> (London, 1893).</p>
-
-<p>Sibree, Rev. J. <i>The Great African Island</i> (1879).</p>
-
-<p>Solymos, B. (B. E. Falkenberg). <i>Desert Life</i> (London, 1880).</p>
-
-<p>Stanley, H. M. <i>How I Found Livingstone</i> (1872, New Ed. 1885). <i>The Congo</i>
-(1885). <i>Through the Dark Continent</i> (1890). <i>In Darkest Africa</i> (1890).</p>
-
-<p>Swayne, H. G. C. <i>Seventeen Trips through Somaliland</i> (London, 1895).</p>
-
-<p>Tennent, J. E. <i>Natural History of Ceylon</i> (London, 1861).</p>
-
-<p>Thomson, Wyville. <i>The Depths of the Sea</i> (London, 1873). <i>Narrative of the
-Voyage of the “Challenger”</i> (1885). And, in this connection, see S. J.
-Hickson. <i>Fauna of the Deep Sea</i> (London, 1894).</p>
-
-<p>Tristram, H. B. <i>The Land of Israel</i> (1876). <i>The Land of Moab</i> (1873). <i>The
-Great Sahara</i> (1860).</p>
-
-<p>Wallace, A. R. <i>Malay Archipelago</i> (London 1869). <i>Tropical Nature</i> (1878).
-<i>Island Life</i> (1880). <i>Travels on the Amazon and Rio Negro</i> (1889).</p>
-
-<p>Waterton, Ch. <i>Wanderings in South America</i> (Ed. by J. G. Wood, 1878).</p>
-
-<p>Woodford, C. M. <i>Naturalist among the Head-hunters</i> (London, 1890).</p>
-</div>
-<hr class="full x-ebookmaker-drop" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</span></p>
-</div>
-
-<p class="c" id="c4">FROM</p>
-
-
-<p class="c sp big">NORTH POLE TO EQUATOR.</p>
-
-<hr class="r5" />
-
-<h2>THE BIRD-BERGS OF LAPLAND.</h2>
-
-
-<p>“<span class="smcap">When</span> the Creator of the worlds had made the earth, best loved
-of all, and was rejoicing in His perfect work, the devil was seized
-with a desire to bring it all to nought. Not yet banished from
-heaven, he lived among the archangels in the abodes of the
-blessed. Up to the seventh heaven he flew, and, seizing a great
-stone, hurled it with might down on the earth exulting in the
-beauty of its youth. But the Creator saw the ruthless deed, and
-sent one of His archangels to avert the evil. The angel flew even
-more swiftly than the stone to the earth beneath, and succeeded in
-saving the land. The huge stone plunged thundering into the sea,
-and hissing waves flooded all the shores for many a mile. The
-fall shattered the crust of the stone, and thousands of splinters
-sank on either side, some disappearing into the depths, and some
-rising above the surface, bare and bleak like the rock itself. Then
-God took pity, and in His infinite goodness resolved to clothe even
-this naked rock with life. But the fruitful soil was all but exhausted
-in His hand; there remained scarce enough to lay a little
-here and there upon the stone.”</p>
-
-<p>So runs an ancient legend still current among the Lapps. The
-stone which the devil threw is Scandinavia; the splinters which fell
-into the sea on either side are the skerries which form a richly varied
-wreath around the peninsula. The rents and cracks in the rock are
-the fjords and the valleys; the sprinkling of life-giving soil which
-fell from the gracious Creator’s hand forms the few fertile tracts
-which Scandinavia possesses. To appreciate the full depth and
-meaning of the childish story one must one’s self have visited<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</span>
-Scandinavia, and especially Norway, have steered a boat among
-the skerries, and have sailed round the country from the extreme
-south to the farthest north. Marvellous, indeed, is the country;
-marvellous are its fjords; still more marvellous is the encircling
-wreath of islands and reefs.</p>
-
-<p>Scandinavia is an alpine country like Switzerland and the Tyrol,
-yet it differs in a hundred ways from both of these. Like our Alps
-it has lofty mountains, glaciers, torrents, clear, still alpine lakes,
-dark pine and fir forests low down in the gorges, bright green birch
-woods on the heights, far-stretching moors&mdash;or more strictly tundras&mdash;on
-the broad shoulders of the mountains, log-huts on the slopes,
-and the huts of the cowherds in the upland valleys. And yet all is
-very different from our Alps, as is obvious to anyone who has seen
-both. The reason of this difference lies in the wonderful way in
-which two such grand and impressive features of scenery as lofty
-mountains and the sea are associated and harmonized.</p>
-
-<p>The general aspect of Scandinavia is at once grave and gay.
-Stern grandeur and soft beauty go hand in hand; gloom alternates
-with cheerfulness; with the dead and disquieting is linked the living
-and exhilarating. Black masses of rock rear themselves perpendicularly
-out of the sea, rise directly from the deeply-cut fjords,
-and, riven and cleft, tower precipitously upwards and lean threateningly
-over. On their heads lie masses of ice stretching for miles,
-covering whole districts and scaring away all life save the torrents
-to which they themselves have given birth. These torrents spread
-themselves everywhere in ribbons of silver over the dark masses,
-and not only give pleasure to the eye, but murmur to the ear the
-sublime melody of the mountains. They rush down through every
-cleft to the depths below, they burst forth from every gorge, or
-plunge in mad career from rock to rock, forming waterfall after
-waterfall, and awakening echoes from the farthest mountain sides.
-These rushing mountain-streams which hurry down to the valley
-through every channel, the gleaming bands of water on every wall
-of rock, the ascending smoke-like spray which betrays the most
-secluded falls&mdash;these call forth life even in the most dread wilderness,
-in places where otherwise nought can be seen but rocks and
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</span>sky&mdash;and they are most truly characteristic of the scenery of the
-interior.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f5">
-<img src="images/fig5.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 1.&mdash;Scene on the Sogne Fjord, Norway.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>But, majestic as this beauty is, bewildering and overwhelming
-as are the fjords with their precipitous walls, their ravines and
-valleys, headlands and peaks, they are yet less characteristic than
-the islands and skerries lying out in the sea, stretching from the
-south of the country up to the far north, and forming a maze of
-bays, sounds, and straits such as can hardly be seen elsewhere in
-the wide world.</p>
-
-<p>The larger islands reproduce more or less faithfully the characters
-of the mainland; the smaller ones and the skerries present,
-under all circumstances, an aspect of their own. But, as one travels
-towards the north, this aspect changes more or less with every degree
-of latitude. Like the sea, the islands lack the richness of the south,
-but are, nevertheless, by no means devoid of beauty. Especially in
-the midnight hours, when the low midsummer sun stands large and
-blood-red on the horizon, its veiled brilliance reflected alike from
-the ice-covered mountain-tops and from the sea, they have an irresistible
-charm. This is enhanced by the homesteads which are
-dotted everywhere over the landscape&mdash;dwellings built of wood and
-roofed with turf, glowing in a strange, blood-red colour which contrasts
-sharply with the green turf roof, the black darkness of the
-adjacent mountain-side, and the ice-blue of the glaciers in the
-background of the picture.</p>
-
-<p>The southerner remarks, with some surprise, that these homesteads
-become larger, handsomer, and more roomy the farther north
-he travels; that, though no longer surrounded by fields, but at the
-most by small gardens, they far excel in size and equipment the
-hut-like buildings of southern Scandinavia; and that the most
-pretentious of all may be on comparatively small islands, where the
-rocks are covered only with turf, and where not even a little
-garden can be won from the inhospitable soil.</p>
-
-<p>The seeming riddle is solved when we remember that in Norland
-and Finland it is not the land but the sea that is ploughed;
-that there men do not sow and wield the scythe in summer, but
-reap in midwinter without having sowed; that it is in the months<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</span>
-in which the long night holds its undisputed sway, when the light
-of the sun has given place to that of the moon, and the rosy flush
-of dawn and sunset to the glow of the Northern Lights, that the
-dwellers in the far north gather in the rich harvest of the sea.</p>
-
-<p>About the time of the autumnal equinox strong men are preparing
-themselves all along the coasts of Norway to secure the harvest
-of the North. Every town, every village, every hamlet sends one
-or more well-manned ships to the islands and skerries within the
-Polar Circle, to anchor for months in every suitable bay. Making
-the ships or the homesteads on shore their head-quarters, the fishermen
-proceed to gather in the abundant booty. In the height of
-summer the whole country is still and deserted, but in winter the
-bays, islands, and sounds are teeming with busy men, and laborious
-hands are toiling night and day. Spacious as the dwelling-houses
-appear, they cannot contain the crowds of people who have assembled;
-many must remain in the ships, or even seek a rough-and-ready
-shelter in rudely-constructed turf-covered huts on the
-shore.</p>
-
-<p>The bustle is at its height about the time of the winter solstice,
-when we celebrate our Christmas, and the Norsemen their Yule
-festival. For weeks the sea has been yielding its treasures. Impelled
-by the strongest impulse which moves living beings, guided by
-irresistible instinct to sow the seed of future generations, there rise
-from the depths of the sea innumerable shoals of fishes&mdash;cod,
-haddock, and the like. They ascend to the upper strata of the water,
-approach the coasts, and throng into the straits, sounds, and fjords
-in such numbers that they cover the surface of the sea for many
-miles. Animated, almost maddened, by one impulse, the fish swim
-so thickly that the boat has literally to force a way among them,
-that the overweighted net baffles the combined strength of the
-fishermen or breaks under its burden, that an oar placed upright
-among the densely packed crowd of swimmers remains for a few
-moments in its position before falling to one side.<a id="FNanchor_3" href="#Footnote_3" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> Wherever the
-rocky islands are washed bare by the raging high tides, from the
-mean tide-mark to the lower edge of the turf which covers their
-summits, the naked rocks are covered by an unbroken ring of fish<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</span>
-split open and laid out to dry, while trestles are also erected that
-other fish may be exposed for the same purpose to the sharp and
-drying air. From time to time the rocks and frames are cleared
-of dried fish, which are packed in bundles and stored in sheds, but
-only that room may be found for others which in the meantime
-have been caught and prepared.</p>
-
-<p>For months the bustle continues, and the traffic is uninterrupted;
-for months the North continues to exchange its treasures with the
-South. Then in the days when about noon a clear light in the
-south heralds the coming of the sun still hidden, or when the first
-rays of sunlight fall for a brief space upon the land, the rich catch
-comes gradually to an end. The dried cod and ling are carried from
-the storing sheds to the ships, all available space from keel to deck is
-filled up, and the fishermen prepare to journey homewards, or abroad
-into the wide world. One ship after another hoists its brown-edged
-sails and steers away.</p>
-
-<p>The North becomes quieter again, more deserted the land, desolate
-the sea. At last, by the time of the spring equinox, all the
-migrant fishermen have left the fishing grounds, and all the fish
-have returned to the depths of the sea. But the sea is already
-sending forth other children to people afresh the straits and sounds,
-and along with them the skerries and islands; and soon from those
-same cliffs, at whose base there was but lately all the bustle of the
-winter, millions of bright bird eyes look down upon the waves.</p>
-
-<p>It is a deeply-affecting trait in the life of all true sea-birds that
-only two causes can move them to visit the land: the joyous spring-time
-sense of new-awakening love, and the mournful foreboding of
-approaching death. Not even Winter with its long night, its
-cold, and its storms can drive them to the land; they are proof
-against all the terrors of the North, and seek their food upon or
-under the waves; not even the threatening jaws of voracious fish
-scare them ashore. They may alight occasionally, but only for a
-short time, often on a solitary island in the sea, to oil their feathers
-more thoroughly than can be done in the water. But when, with
-the sun’s first brightness, love stirs in their breasts, all, old and
-young alike, though they may have to swim and fly thousands of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</span>
-miles, strive to reach the place where they themselves first saw the
-light of day. And if, in mid-winter, months after the breeding-places
-have been left desolate, a sea-bird feels death in his heart, he
-hastens as long as his strength holds out, that he may, if possible,
-die in the place where he was cradled.</p>
-
-<p>The annual assembling of innumerable birds at the breeding-places
-fills these for several months with a most marvellous life.
-The communities differ like the sea-birds themselves, and the places,
-or <i>bergs</i> (as the Norsemen call them), which they people vary also.
-While some choose only those reefs which rise just above the high-tide
-mark, and bear no more vegetation than is enough to provide
-scanty material for the nest hollowed out in the sea-weed heaps,
-others select islands which rear themselves straight and steep for
-several hundred feet above the sea, and are either rich in shelves,
-ledges, cavities, fissures, and other hiding-places, or are covered by
-a thick layer of peat-like plant remains. The Norseman calls the
-lower islets ‘eider-holms’ (or eider bird-hills, as the German would
-say), for they are the favourite brooding-places of what is to him
-the most valuable, and, what is the same thing, the most useful of
-all sea-birds. The higher islands which rise precipitously from the
-sea, and are chiefly peopled by auks and gulls, are included under
-the general name of <i>bird-bergs</i>.</p>
-
-<p>The observant naturalist is of course tempted to study and
-describe in detail each individual brooding bird of the sea, but the
-rich variety of the inhabitants of the bird-bergs of the far north
-and the variety of their habits impose certain limits. Similarly,
-lest I exceed the time allowed to me, I must refrain from giving
-detailed pictures of the habits of all the berg birds, though I think
-it well at least to outline those of a few in order to bring into prominence
-some of the chief characteristics of sea-bird life. Selection is
-difficult, but one, at any rate&mdash;the eider-duck, which returns every
-spring to these islands, and helps to beautify them and their surroundings
-so marvellously&mdash;must not be left undescribed.</p>
-
-<p>Three species of these beautiful ducks inhabit or visit European
-shores; one of these, the true eider-bird, is to be found every
-summer, even on the north-western islands of Germany, especially<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</span>
-Sylt. Its plumage is a faithful mirror of the northern sea. Black
-and red, ash-gray, ice-green, white, brown, and yellow are the colours
-harmoniously blended in it. The eider-duck proper is the least
-beautiful species, but it is nevertheless a handsome bird. The neck
-and back, a band over the wings, and a spot on the sides of the
-body are white as the crests of the waves; throat and crop have a
-white ground faintly flushed with rose-colour as though the glow
-of the midnight sun had been caught there; a belt on the cheeks
-is delicate green like the ice of the glacier; breast and belly, wings
-and tail, the lower part of the back and the rump are black as the
-depths of the sea itself. This splendour belongs only to the male;
-the female, like all ducks, wears a more modest yet not less pleasing
-garb, which I may call a house-dress. The prevailing rust-coloured
-ground, shading more or less into brown, is marked with
-longitudinal and transverse spots, lines and spirals, with a beauty
-and variety that words cannot adequately describe.</p>
-
-<p>No other species of duck is so thoroughly a child of the sea as
-the eider-duck; no species waddles more clumsily on land, or flies
-less gracefully, but none swims more rapidly or dives more deftly
-and deeply. In search of food it sinks fully fifty yards below the
-surface of the sea, and is said to be able to remain five minutes&mdash;an
-extraordinarily long time&mdash;under water. Before the beginning
-of the brooding season it does not leave the open sea at all, or
-does so very rarely; following a whim rather than driven by
-necessity. Towards the end of winter the flocks in which they
-congregate break up into pairs, and only those males who have not
-succeeded in securing mates swim about in little groups. Between
-two mates the most perfect unanimity reigns. One will, undoubtedly
-that of the duck, determines the actions of both. If she rises
-from the surface of the water to fly for a hundred yards through
-the air, the drake follows her; if she dives into the sea, he disappears
-directly afterwards; wherever she turns he follows faithfully;
-whatever she does seems to express his wishes. The pair
-still live out on the sea, though only where the depth is not greater
-than twenty-five fathoms, and where edible mussels and other
-bivalves are found in rich abundance on the rocks and the sea-bottom.
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</span>These molluscs often form the sole food of eider-ducks,
-and to procure them they may have to dive to considerable depths.
-But it is the abundance of this food which preserves the eiders
-from the scarcity from which so many other species of duck often
-suffer severely.</p>
-
-<p>In April, or at the latest in the beginning of May, the pairs
-approach nearer and nearer the fringe of reefs and the shores of
-the mainland. Maternal cares are stirring in the breast of the
-duck, and to these everything else is subordinated. Out at sea the
-pair were so shy that they never allowed a ship or boat to get
-near them, and feared man, if he ever happened to approach them,
-more than any other living creature; now in the neighbourhood of
-the islands their behaviour changes entirely. Obeying her maternal
-instincts, and these only, the duck swims to one of the brooding-places,
-and paying no attention to the human inhabitants, waddles
-on to the land. Anxiously the drake follows her, not without
-uttering his warning “Ahua, ahua”, not without visible hesitation,
-for every now and then he remains behind as if reflecting for a
-while, and then swims forward once more. The duck, however,
-pays no heed to all this. Careless of the whole world around
-her, she wanders over the island seeking a suitable brooding-place.
-Being somewhat fastidious, she is not satisfied with the first good
-heap of sea-weed cast up by the tide, with the low juniper-bush
-whose branches straggling on the ground offer safe concealment,
-with the half-broken box which the owner of the island has placed
-as a shelter for her, or with the heaps of twigs and brushwood
-which he has gathered to entice her, but approaches the owner’s
-dwelling as fearlessly as if she were a domestic bird. She enters
-it, walks about the floor, follows the housewife through rooms and
-kitchen, and capriciously selects, it may be, the inside of the oven as
-her resting-place, thereby forcing the housewife to have her bread
-baked for weeks on another island. With manifest alarm the faithful
-drake follows her as far as he dares; but when she, in his
-opinion, so far neglects all considerations of safety as to dwell under
-the same roof with human beings, he no longer tries to struggle
-against her wayward whim, but leaves her to follow it alone, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</span>
-flies out to the safety of the sea, there longingly to await her daily
-visit. His mate is in no wise distracted by his departure, but proceeds
-to collect twigs and brushwood&mdash;a task in which she willingly
-accepts the Norseman’s help&mdash;and to pile up into a heap her nest
-materials, which include sea-weed as well as twigs. She hollows
-out a trough with her wings and makes it circular by turning
-round and round in it with her smooth breast. Then she sets
-about procuring the lining and incorporating it with the nest.
-Thinking only of her brood, she plucks the incomparably soft
-down from her breast and makes with it a sort of felt, which not
-only lines the whole hollow but forms such a thick border at its
-upper edge that it serves as a cover to protect the eggs from cold
-when the mother leaves the nest. Before the work of lining is
-quite completed, the duck begins laying her comparatively small,
-smooth-shelled, clouded-green or grayish-green eggs. The clutch
-consists of from six to eight, seldom more or fewer.</p>
-
-<p>This is the time for which the Norseman has been waiting,
-for it was self-interest that prompted all his hospitality to the bird.
-The host now becomes the robber. Ruthlessly he takes the eggs
-and the nest with its inner lining of costly down. From twenty-four
-to thirty nests yield about two pounds of down, worth at least
-thirty shillings on the spot. This price is sufficient explanation of
-the Norseman’s way of acting.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f6">
-<img src="images/fig6.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 2.&mdash;Colony of Eider-ducks.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>With a heavy heart the duck sees the downfall of her hopes
-for that year. Perturbed and frightened, she flies out to sea,
-where her mate awaits her. Whether he takes the opportunity
-of repeating his warnings more urgently I cannot say, but I can
-testify that he very soon succeeds in consoling her. The joy and
-spirit of the spring-time still live in the hearts of both; and in a
-very few days our duck waddles on land again as though nothing
-had happened, to build a second nest! This time she probably
-avoids her former position and contents herself with the first available
-heap of tangle which is not fully taken up by other birds.
-Again she digs and rounds a hollow; again she begins to probe
-among her plumage in order to procure the lining of down which
-seems to her indispensable. But, however much she exert herself,
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</span>stretching her neck and twisting it in intricate snake-like curves,
-she can find no more. Yet when was a mother, even a duck
-mother, at a loss when her children had to be provided for? Our
-duck is certainly at none. She herself has no more down, but her
-mate bears it untouched on his breast and back. Now it is his
-turn. And though he may perhaps rebel, having a lively recollection
-of former years, he is the husband and she the wife, therefore
-he must obey. Without compunction the anxious mother rifles his
-plumage, and in a few hours, or at most within two days, she
-has plucked him as bare as herself. That the drake, after such
-treatment, should fly out to the open sea as soon as possible, and
-associate for some months only with his fellows, troubling himself
-not in the least about his mate and her coming brood, seems to me<span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</span>
-quite comprehensible. And when, as happens on every nesting
-island, a drake is to be seen standing by the brooding duck, I think
-he must be one who has not yet been plucked!<a id="FNanchor_4" href="#Footnote_4" class="fnanchor">[2]</a></p>
-
-<p>Our duck broods once more assiduously. And now her house-dress
-is seen to be the only suitable, I might say the only possible,
-garment which she could wear. Among the tangle which surrounds
-the nest she is completely hidden even from the sharp eyes of the
-falcon or the sea-eagle. Not only the general colouring, but every
-point and every line is so harmonious with the dried sea-weed, that
-the brooding-bird, when she has drawn down her neck and slightly
-spread out her wings, seems to become almost a part of her surroundings.
-Many a time it has happened that I, searching with
-the practised eye of a sportsman and naturalist, have walked across
-eider-holms and only become aware of the brooding duck at my
-feet, when she warned me off by pecking at my shoes. No one
-who knows the self-forgetting devotion with which the birds
-brood will be surprised that it is possible to come so near an eider-duck
-sitting in her nest, but it may well excite the astonishment
-of even an experienced naturalist to learn that the duck suffers
-one to handle the eggs under her breast without flying away, and
-that she does not even allow herself to be diverted from her brooding
-when one lifts her from the nest and places her upon it again,
-or lays her on the ground at some little distance in order to see the
-charmingly quaint way in which she waddles back to her brood.</p>
-
-<p>The eider-duck’s maternal self-surrender and desire for offspring
-show themselves in another way. Every female eider-duck, perhaps
-every duck of whatever species, desires not only the bliss of bearing
-children, but wishes to have as many nestlings as possible under
-her motherly eye. Prompted by this desire, she has no scruples
-in robbing, whenever possible, other eiders brooding near her.
-Devoted as she is in her brooding, she must nevertheless forsake
-her nest once a day to procure her own food, and to cleanse,
-oil, and smooth her plumage, which suffers considerably from the
-heat developed in brooding. Throwing a suspicious glance at her
-neighbours to right and left, she rises early in the forenoon, after
-having perhaps suffered the pangs of hunger for some hours, stands<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</span>
-beside her nest and carefully spreads the surrounding fringe of
-down with her bill, so that it forms a concealing and protecting
-cover for the eggs. Then she flies quickly out to the sea, dives
-repeatedly, and hastily fills crop and gullet to the full with mussels,
-bathes, cleans, and oils herself, and returns to land, drying and
-smoothing her feathers continuously as she walks towards her
-nest. Both her neighbours sit seemingly as innocent as before, but
-in the interval a theft has been perpetrated by at least one of
-them. As soon as the first had flown away, one of them rose from
-her nest, and lifting the cover of her neighbour’s nest, quickly rolled
-one, two, three, or four eggs with her feet into her own nest, then
-carefully replaced the cover, and resumed her place, rejoicing over
-her unrighteously-increased clutch. The returning duck probably
-notices the trick that has been played, but she makes not the
-slightest sign, and calmly settles down to brood again as though she
-thought, “Just wait, neighbour, you must go to the sea, too, and
-then I’ll do to you what you have done to me”. As a matter of
-fact, the eggs of several nests standing close together are shifted
-continuously from one to another. Whether it is her own or
-another’s children that come to life under her motherly breast
-seems to matter very little to the eider-duck&mdash;they are children,
-at any rate!</p>
-
-<p>The duck sits about twenty-six days before the eggs are hatched.
-The Norseman, who goes to work intelligently, lets her do as she
-pleases this time, and not only refrains from disturbing her, but
-assists her as far as possible by keeping away from the island all
-enemies who might harass the bird. He knows his ducks, if not
-personally, at least to this extent, that he can tell about what time
-this or that one will have finished brooding, and will set out with
-her ducklings to seek the safety of the sea. The journey thither
-brings sudden destruction to many unwatched young eider-ducks.
-Not only the falcons breeding on or visiting the island, but even
-more the ravens, the skuas, and the larger gulls watch for the first
-appearance of the ducklings, attack them on the way, and carry off
-one or more of them. The owner of the island seeks to prevent
-this in a manner which enables one to appreciate how thoroughly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</span>
-the duck, ordinarily so wild and shy, has become a domestic bird
-during the breeding season. Every morning towards the end of
-the brooding-time he inspects the island in order to help the mothers
-and to gather in a second harvest of down. On his back hangs a
-hamper, and on one arm a wide hand-basket. Going from nest to
-nest he lifts each duck, and looks to see whether the young are
-hatched and are sufficiently dry. If this be the case, he packs the
-whole waddling company in his hand-basket, and with adroit grasp
-divests the nest of its downy lining, which he throws into his
-hamper, and proceeds to another nest. Trustfully the duck waddles
-after him or rather after her piping offspring, and a second, third,
-tenth nest is thus emptied, in fact the work goes on as long as
-the basket will accommodate more nestlings, and one mother after
-another joins the procession, exchanging opinions with her companions
-in suffering on the way. Arrived at the sea, the man turns
-the basket upside down and simply shakes the whole crowd of
-ducklings into the water. Immediately all the ducks throw themselves
-after their piping young ones; coaxing, calling, displaying all
-manner of maternal tenderness, they swim about among the flock,
-each trying to collect as many ducklings as possible behind herself.
-With obvious pride one swims about with a long train behind her,
-but soon a second, less favoured, crosses the procession and seeks
-to detach as many of the ducklings as she can, and again a third
-endeavours to divert a few in her own favour. So all the mothers
-swim about, quacking and calling, cackling and coaxing, till at length
-each one has behind her a troop of young ones, whether her own
-or another’s who can tell? The duck in question certainly does not
-know, but her mother-love does not suffer on that account&mdash;they
-are in any case ducklings who are swimming behind her!</p>
-
-<p>In every case the flock thus collected follows the mother or
-foster-mother faithfully even in the first hours of free life. The
-mother leads them to places where edible mussels cover the rocks
-up to low-water mark, gathers as many as she and her family
-require, breaks the shells of the smallest and lays the contents
-before her brood. On the first day of their lives the ducklings are
-able to swim and dive as well as their parents, and they even excel<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</span>
-them in one respect, for they are incomparably more nimble on
-land, being able to move about with surprising activity. If they
-become tired near an island the mother leads them on to it, and
-they run about like young partridges, and, by simply crouching
-down at the first warning cry, conceal themselves so effectively
-that they can only be found after long searching. If they get
-fatigued when they are far from land, the mother spreads out her
-wings a little and offers them these and her back as a resting-place.
-As they never know want they grow with extraordinary rapidity,
-and at the end of two months will have attained nearly the size,
-certainly all the adroitness, of their mother. The father soon joins
-them in order to pass the winter with his family&mdash;usually in company
-with many other families, so that a flock of thousands may
-occasionally be formed.</p>
-
-<p>The high and annually increasing price of its incomparable
-down makes the eider-duck the most valuable of all berg-birds. A
-thousand pairs of ducks form a possession well worth having. At
-least three or four thousand pairs brood on each island, and the
-fortunate possessor of still more numerously visited breeding-places
-derives revenues through his birds which many a German land-owner
-might envy. But besides the eider-ducks there breed also
-on the holms oyster-catchers and black guillemots, whose eggs are
-preserved and used for food for months, or are exported to a distance.
-Furthermore, the flesh of the young birds is sometimes salted for
-winter use, and thus the holms yield a rich harvest. They are
-therefore strictly preserved and protected by special laws.<a id="FNanchor_5" href="#Footnote_5" class="fnanchor">[3]</a></p>
-
-<p>A brooding island peopled by eider-ducks and other sea birds
-presents a spectacle as unique as it is fascinating. A more or less
-thick cloud of brilliantly white sea-gulls veils such an island. Without
-intermission troops and swarms of brooding birds arrive and
-fly out to sea again, visiting the neighbouring reefs also, and sometimes
-marvellously adorning the drained moorland, now covered
-with green turf, in front of the red log-huts. With justifiable
-pride a dweller on the Lofodens pointed to several hundred gulls
-which were assembled directly before his door seeking for insects.
-“Our land is too poor, too cold, and too rough”, he said, “for us to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</span>
-be able to keep domestic birds as you do in the south. But the sea
-sends us our doves, and, I ask, have you ever seen more beautiful?”
-I could but answer in the negative, for the picture of the dazzling
-white and delicate blue-gray gulls on the luxuriant green turf amid
-the grand environment of the northern mountains was indeed magnificent.
-It is these gulls chiefly which make the brooding holms
-conspicuous from a distance, and distinguish them from others which
-are physically the same. The other members of the feathered population
-are but little noticed, though they number many thousands.
-Only when one of the admirable light boats of the country is pushed
-off from the inhabited shores and rowed towards the holm does the
-quiet life of the birds change. Some oyster-catchers, which have been
-feeding directly above the high-water mark, have observed the boat
-and fly hastily towards it. These birds, which are absent from none
-of the larger islands, scarcely from any of the skerries, are the guardians
-of the safety and welfare of the peacefully united colony. More
-inquisitive and active than any other birds known to me, self-possessed,
-cautious, and deliberate, they possess all the qualities necessary to
-make them the sentinels of a mixed colony. Every new, unusual, or
-extraordinary event arouses their curiosity, and incites them to make
-closer examination. Thus they fly to meet the boat, sweep round it
-five or six times in ever-narrowing circles, screaming uninterruptedly
-the while, thus attracting others of their own species to the spot,
-and rousing the attention of all the cautious birds in the colony.
-As soon as they have convinced themselves of the presence of actual
-danger, they fly quickly back, and, with warning notes, communicate
-the result of their investigation to all the other birds on the berg
-who will pay any attention, as indeed many do. Some gulls now
-resolve to investigate the cause of the disturbance for themselves.
-Five or six of them fly towards the boat, hover falcon-like in the
-air, perhaps even dart boldly down upon the intruders, and return
-to the holm more quickly than they came. Just as if their report
-was mistrusted, twice, three, four&mdash;ten times the number take wing,
-proceeding exactly as the first spies had done, and soon a cloud of
-birds forms above the boat. This cloud becomes thicker and thicker,
-more and more threatening, for the birds not only endeavour with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</span>
-continually increasing boldness to strike against the intruders in the
-boat, but they bestow upon them stuff which does not exactly tend
-to adorn faces and clothing. In the neighbourhood of the breeding-place
-the excitement increases to an apparently distracted confusion,
-the cries of individuals unite to form a maddening noise a
-thousand times repeated. Before the boat has touched the land the
-eider-drakes, who have been visiting their mates, have waddled to
-the shore and are now swimming out to sea with a warning “Ahua-ahua”.
-The cormorants and mergansers follow them, but the
-oyster-catchers, plovers, black guillemots, eider-ducks, gulls, and
-terns, as well as the stone-chats and water-wagtails, cannot make
-up their minds to forsake the island. Running birds innumerable
-rush up and down the shore as if pursued by the evil one; the
-black guillemots, which had glided up the slanting blocks of rock,
-squat flat down upon them and stare in innocent wonder at the
-strangers, and the eider-ducks prepare to make themselves invisible
-after their fashion when the right moment comes.</p>
-
-<p>The boat touches the shore. We step upon the holm. A screech
-rises from thousands of voices at once, the cloud of flying birds
-thickens to opaqueness; hundreds of brooding gulls rise croaking to
-join those in flight; dozens of oyster-catchers scream loudly, and
-the maze of moving birds and the noise of their screeching become
-so bewildering that one feels as if one perceived with the bodily
-senses the din and riot of the witches’ revel on the Blocksberg.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent0">“Voices o’er us dost thou hear?</div>
-<div class="verse indent0">Voices far, and voices near?</div>
-<div class="verse indent0">All the mountain-range along</div>
-<div class="verse indent0">Streams a raving Witches’ Song.”</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>Mephisto’s words are realized. The noise and tumult, the confusion
-of forms and cries, fatigue all the senses; everything swims and
-flickers before our eyes; there is singing and ringing in our ears,
-till at length we are conscious of neither colour nor noise, scarcely
-even of the usually very penetrating odour. In whatever direction
-we may turn the cloud covers the island; nothing is to be seen but
-birds, and when thousands alight to rest thousands more take wing,
-their care and anxiety for their brood making them forget their
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</span>own powerlessness, and encouraging them to a defence which, though
-not dangerous, is certainly embarrassing to the explorers.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f7">
-<img src="images/fig7.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 3.&mdash;The Bird-bergs of Lapland.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Essentially different from the life&mdash;after all very inoffensive&mdash;on
-an eider-holm is the picture presented by an island peopled by
-silver, herring, or great black-backed gulls. These also congregate
-on certain islands for the breeding season in hundreds and hundreds
-of pairs, one such island being sometimes inhabited by from three to
-five thousand pairs. The island presents quite as beautiful and
-noble a spectacle as the eider-holm. The large, dazzling white, and
-light or dark gray forms contrast wonderfully with the whole surroundings,
-and their movements possess much of the grace which
-characterizes all gulls. But these strong, powerful, rapacious gulls,
-though gregarious, are not peaceable neighbours. No member of
-such a colony trusts any other. Each pair lives by itself, marks
-out a definite brooding-ground, however small its diameter, allows
-no other pair within its boundaries, and both birds never leave
-the nest at the same time. If they have been disturbed by a powerful
-common enemy they hasten back as quickly as possible to
-the nest to protect it from others of their own species.</p>
-
-<p>Less noisy, but certainly not less impressive, is the life on the
-real bird-bergs, the breeding-grounds of razor-bills, guillemots, and
-puffins, with at most here and there one or other of the gulls or
-of the cormorants. It will suffice if I attempt to describe one such
-berg in narrative form.</p>
-
-<p>To the north of the large island belonging to the Lofoden group,
-and about three hundred yards from its shore, lie three bell-shaped
-rocky islands (the Nyken), rising rugged and steep for about three
-hundred feet above the surface of the sea, and closely surrounded
-by a circle of little reefs. One of these rocky cones is a bird-berg,
-and one can hardly imagine a finer of its kind.</p>
-
-<p>We prepared to visit the island on a beautiful summer day
-when the sea was unusually smooth and calm, the sky clear and
-blue, the air warm and pleasant. Powerful Norsemen rowed our
-light boat in and out among innumerable skerries. Look where
-we would, we saw birds. Almost every rock which rose above the
-surface of the water was peopled with them. Some of the reefs<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</span>
-were coated with white by the excrement of the cormorants which
-regularly spent a portion of each day there in rest. Arranged in
-rows, like soldiers drawn up, they sat in tens, twenties, or hundreds,
-in the most extraordinary positions, their necks stretched,
-their wings spread out so that every part of their bodies might
-have full benefit of the sunshine, waving their wings also as if to
-fan each other, and all the while casting watchful glances in every
-direction. On our approach, they threw themselves heavily with
-hollow cries into the sea, and then, swimming and diving, defied
-all our attempts to get near them. Other reefs were covered with
-gulls, hundreds and thousands of the same species; or with male
-eiders, which had probably come from some eider-holm or other,
-to amuse themselves after the fashion of their sex while their
-mates were busied with maternal cares. Around other rocky
-islands the dazzling eider-birds, perhaps newly-plucked males, had
-congregated and arranged themselves in a circle, suggestive of the
-great white water-lilies of our quiet freshwater lakes. In the
-sounds that were not too deep one could see the fishing mergansers
-and divers, one or other of which would every now and then
-give full vent to its shrill, far-reaching cry&mdash;a cry so long-drawn-out
-and so varied in tone that one might call it a song, were it
-not rather a wild melody such as can only be executed by a child
-of the North Sea who has listened to the howling and blustering
-of winter storms, and has echoed the roar of the surging waves.
-Proud as a prince upon his throne sat here and there a sea-eagle,
-the terror of all the feathered creatures of the sea; sometimes we
-saw a whole company of these robbers gorged with prey; the
-jerfalcon, who had his eyrie on one of the steep precipices,
-flew through his wide domain with the swiftness of an arrow;
-fluttering gulls and kittiwakes and fishing terns darted up and
-down; oyster-catchers greeted us with their trilling cries; razor-bills
-and guillemots appeared and disappeared all about us as they
-rose to the surface or dived underneath.</p>
-
-<p>In such company we proceeded on our way. When we had
-traversed about ten nautical miles we came within range of the
-Nyke. In whatever direction we looked we saw some of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</span>
-temporary dwellers on the berg, fishing and diving in the sea, or,
-startled by our boat, flying along so close to the surface of the
-water that their bright red webbed feet struck spray from the
-waves. We saw swarms of from thirty to fifty or a hundred birds
-streaming from or towards the berg, and we could not doubt that
-we were approaching a very populous breeding-colony. But we
-had been told of millions of brooding birds, and as yet we could
-see nothing of such numbers. At length, after we had rowed round
-a projecting ridge, the Nyke lay before us. In the sea, all around,
-were black points, at the foot of the hill white ones. The former
-were without order or regularity, the latter generally in rows, or
-sharply defined troops; the one set consisted of razor-bills swimming,
-with head, throat, and neck above the water, the others were
-the same birds sitting on the hill with their white breasts turned
-towards the sea. There were certainly many thousands, but not
-millions.</p>
-
-<p>After we had landed at the opposite island and refreshed ourselves
-in the house of the proprietor of the Nyke, we crossed over
-to it, and choosing a place round which the seething waves did
-not surge too violently, we sprang out on the rock and climbed
-quickly up to the turf which covers the whole Nyke, with the
-exception of a few protruding peaks, ledges, and angles. There
-we found that the whole turf was so pierced with nest-hollows
-something like rabbit holes, that on the whole hill not a single
-place the size of a table could be found free from such openings.
-We made our way upwards in a spiral, clambering rather than
-walking to the top of the berg. The undermined turf trembled
-under our feet, and from every hole there peeped, crept, glided,
-or flew out birds rather larger than pigeons, slate-coloured on the
-upper part of the body, dazzlingly white on breast and belly, with
-fantastic bills and faces, short, narrow, pointed wings, and stumpy
-tails. Out of every hole they appeared and even out of the fissures
-and clefts in the rocks. Whichever way we turned we saw only
-birds, heard only the low droning noise of their combined weak
-cries. Every step onwards brought new flocks out of the bowels
-of the earth. From the berg down to the sea, from the sea up to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</span>
-the berg there flew swarms innumerable. The dozens became hundreds,
-the hundreds became thousands, and hundreds of thousands
-sprang incessantly from the brown-green turf. A cloud not less
-thick than that over the holm enveloped us, enveloped the island, so
-that it&mdash;magically indeed, but in a way perceptible by the senses&mdash;seemed
-transformed into a gigantic bee-hive, round which not less
-gigantic bees, humming and buzzing, hovered and fluttered.</p>
-
-<p>The farther we went, the more magnificent became the spectacle.
-The whole hill was alive. Hundreds of thousands of eyes looked
-down upon us intruders. From every hole and corner, from every
-peak and ledge, out of every cleft, burrow, or opening, they hurried
-forth, right, left, above, beneath; the air, like the ground, teemed
-with birds. From the sides and from the summit of the berg
-thousands threw themselves like a continuous cataract into the sea
-in a throng so dense that they seemed to the eye to form an almost
-solid mass. Thousands came, thousands went, thousands fluttered
-in a wondrous mazy dance; hundreds of thousands flew, hundreds
-of thousands swam and dived, and yet other hundreds of thousands
-awaited the footsteps which should rouse them also. There was
-such a swarming, whirring, rustling, dancing, flying, and creeping
-all about us that we almost lost our senses; the eye refused duty,
-and his wonted skill failed even the marksman who attempted to
-gain a prize at random among the thousands. Bewildered, hardly
-conscious, we pushed on our way until at length we reached the
-summit. Our expectation here at last to regain quietness, composure,
-and power of observation, was not at once realized. Even
-here there was the same swarming and whirring as further down
-the slope, and the cloud of birds around us was so thick that we
-only saw the sea dimly and indefinitely as in twilight. But a pair
-of jerfalcons, who had their eyrie in a neighbouring precipice, and
-had seen the unusual bustle, suddenly changed the wonderful
-scene. The razor-bills, guillemots, and puffins were not afraid of us;
-but on the appearance of their well-known and irresistible enemies,
-the whole cloud threw themselves with one accord, as at the command
-of a magician, into the sea, and the outlook was clear and
-free. Innumerable black points, the heads of the birds swimming<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</span>
-in the sea, stood out distinctly from the water, and broke up
-the blue-green colouring of the waves. Their number was so great
-that from the top of the berg, which was over three hundred feet
-high, we could not see where the swarm ended, could not discover
-where the sea was clear from birds. In order to make a calculation,
-I measured out a small square with my eye, and began to
-count the points in it. There were more than a hundred. Then
-I endeavoured mentally to place several similar squares together,
-and soon came to thousands of points. But I might have imagined
-many thousands of such squares together and yet not exhausted
-the space covered by birds. The millions of which I had been
-told were really there. This picture of apparent quiet only lasted
-for a few moments. The birds soon began to fly upwards again,
-and as before, hundreds of thousands rose simultaneously from the
-water to ascend the hill, as before a cloud formed round it, and
-our senses were again bewildered. Unable to see, and deafened
-by the indescribable noise about me, I threw myself on the ground,
-and the birds streamed by on all sides. New ones crept constantly
-out of their holes, while those we had previously startled now crept
-back again; they settled all about me, looking with comical amazement
-at the strange form among them, and approaching with
-mincing gait so close to me that I attempted to seize them. The
-beauty and charm of life showed themselves in every movement of
-these remarkable birds. With astonishment I saw that even the
-best pictures of them are stiff and cold, for I remarked in their
-quaint forms a mobility and liveliness with which I had not credited
-them. They did not remain still a single instant, their heads and
-necks at least were moved incessantly to all sides, and their
-contours often showed most graceful lines. It seemed as though
-the inoffensiveness with which I had given myself up to observing
-them, had been rewarded by unlimited confidence on their part.
-The thousands just about me were like domestic birds; the millions
-paid me no more attention than if I had been one of themselves.</p>
-
-<p>I spent eighteen hours on this bird-berg in order to study the
-life of the auks.<a id="FNanchor_6" href="#Footnote_6" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> When the midnight sun stood large and blood-red
-in the sky and cast its rosy light on the sides of the hill there came<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</span>
-the peace which midnight brings even in the far North. The sea
-was deserted; all the birds which had been fishing and diving in it
-had flown up to the berg. There they sat wherever there was room
-to sit in long rows of tens, of hundreds, of hundreds of thousands,
-forming dazzling white lines as all, without exception, sat facing the
-sea. Their ‘arr’ and ‘err’, which had deafened our ears notwithstanding
-the weakness of the individual voices, were silent now,
-and only the roar of the surf breaking on the rocks far below
-resounded as before. Not till the sun rose again did the old bewildering
-bustle begin anew, and as we at length descended the hill
-by the way we had climbed it, we were once more surrounded by a
-thick cloud of startled birds.</p>
-
-<p>It is not because of their enormous numbers alone that the auks
-are so fascinating; there is much that is attractive in their life and
-habits. During the brooding time their social virtues reach an
-extraordinary height. Till the beginning of that season they live
-entirely on the open sea, defying the severest winter and the wildest
-storms. Even in the long night of winter very few of them forsake
-their northern home, but they range, in flocks of hundreds and thousands,
-from one fishing-ground to another, finding all the open spaces
-among the ice as unfailingly as they do other promising feeding-grounds
-in the open sea. But when the sun reappears they are
-animated by one feeling&mdash;love, by one longing&mdash;to reach as soon as
-possible the hill where their own cradle stood. Then somewhere
-about Easter-time they all set out, swimming more than flying, for
-the bird-berg. But among the auks there are more males than
-females, and not every male is fortunate enough to secure a wife.
-Among other birds such a disproportion gives rise to ceaseless strife,
-yet among these auks peace is not disturbed. The much-to-be-pitied
-beings whom, making use of a human analogy, we may call
-bachelors, migrate to the berg as well as the fortunate pairs, who
-coquette and caress by the way; they fly up with these to the
-heights and accompany them on their hunting expeditions to the
-surrounding sea. As soon as the weather permits, the pairs begin
-to get the old holes in order; they clear them out, deepen them,
-enlarge their chambers, and, if necessary, hollow out a new brooding-place.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</span>
-As soon as this has been done the female lays, on the bare
-ground at the further end of the hollowed-out brooding-chamber, a
-single very large, top-shaped, brightly-spotted egg, and begins to
-brood alternately with the male. The poor bachelors have a sad
-time of it now. They, too, would dearly like to take parental cares
-upon themselves if they could only find a mate who would share
-them. But all the females are appropriated, and wooing is in vain.
-So they resolve to give practical proof of their good-will, at least in
-so far that they force themselves on the fortunate pair as friends of
-the family. In the hours about midnight, when the female broods
-on the nest, they sit with the male as he keeps watch before it, and,
-when the male relieves his mate that she may fish in the sea, they
-mount guard in his stead. But when both parents visit the sea at
-once the bachelors hasten to reap some reward for their faithfulness.
-Without delay they thrust themselves into the interior of the cavity,
-and sit for the time upon the forsaken egg. The poor birds who
-are condemned to celibacy want at least to brood a little! This
-unselfish devotion has one result for which men might envy the
-auks&mdash;there are no orphans on these bird-bergs. Should the male
-of a pair come to grief, his widow immediately consoles herself with
-another mate, and in the rarer case of both parents losing their lives
-at once the good-natured supernumeraries are quite ready to finish
-hatching the egg and to rear the young one. The young ones differ
-materially from those of the ducks and gulls. They are ‘altrices’,
-not ‘præcoces’ as the ornithologists say;<a id="FNanchor_7" href="#Footnote_7" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> in plain language, they are
-not ready for active life as soon as they are hatched. In a dress of
-thick gray down the young auk slips from the egg in which it
-awakes to life, but it must spend many weeks in the hole before it
-is ready to attempt its first flight to the sea. This first flight is
-always a hazardous undertaking, as is proved by the countless dead
-bodies on the cliffs at the foot of the berg. The young bird, nervously
-using its unpractised legs, hardly less timidly its newly-developed
-wings, follows its parents as they lead the way down the
-hill towards some place from which the leap into the sea may be
-attempted with as little danger as possible. On a suitable ledge
-the parents often remain a long time with their young one before<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</span>
-they can induce it to take a spring. Both father and mother persuade
-it coaxingly; the little one, usually obedient like all young
-birds, pays no heed to their commands. The father throws himself
-into the sea before the eyes of his hesitating offspring; the inexperienced
-young one remains where he was. More attempts, more
-coaxing, urgent pressure: at length he risks the great leap and
-plunges like a falling stone deep into the sea; then, unconsciously
-obeying his instincts, he works his way to the surface, looks all
-around over the unending sea, and&mdash;is a sea-bird who thenceforth
-shuns no danger.</p>
-
-<p>Different again is the life and activity on the bergs chosen as
-brooding-places by the kittiwakes. Such a hill is the promontory
-Swärtholm, high up in the north between the Laxen and the Porsanger
-fjord, not far from the North Cape. I knew well how these
-gulls appear on their brooding-places. Faber, with his excellent
-knowledge of the birds of the far North, has depicted it, as usual,
-in a few vivid words:</p>
-
-<p>“They hide the sun when they fly, they cover the skerries when
-they sit, they drown the thunder of the surf when they cry, they
-colour the rocks white when they brood.” I believed the excellent
-Faber after I had seen the eider-holms and auk-bergs, and yet I
-doubted, as every naturalist must, and therefore I ardently desired
-to visit Swärtholm for myself. An amiable Norseman with whom
-I became friendly, the pilot of the mail steamer by which I travelled,
-readily agreed to row me over to the breeding-place, and we approached
-the promontory late one evening. At a distance of six or
-eight nautical miles we were overtaken by flocks of from thirty to
-a hundred, sometimes even two hundred kittiwakes flying to their
-nesting-place. The nearer we approached to Swärtholm the more
-rapid was the succession of these swarms, and the larger did they
-become. At last the promontory became visible, a rocky wall about
-eight hundred yards long, pierced by innumerable holes, rising almost
-perpendicularly from the sea to a height of from four hundred and
-fifty to six hundred feet. It looked gray in the distance, but with a
-telescope one could discern innumerable points and lines. It looked
-as though a gigantic slate had been scratched all over with all sorts<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</span>
-of marks by a playful giant child, as though the whole rock bore a
-wondrous decoration of chains, rings, and stars. From the dark
-depths of large and small cavities there gleamed a brilliant white;
-the shelving ledges stood out in more conspicuous brightness. The
-brooding gulls on their nests formed the white pattern, and we
-realized the truth of Faber’s words, “they cover the rocks when
-they sit”.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f8">
-<img src="images/fig8.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 4.&mdash;Razor-bills.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Our boat, as it grated on the rocky shore, startled a number of
-the gulls, and I saw a picture such as I had seen on many eider-holms
-and gull-islands. A shot from my friend’s gun thundered
-against the precipice. As a raging winter storm rushes through
-the air and breaks up the snow-laden clouds till they fall in
-flakes, so now it snowed living birds. One saw neither hill nor
-sky, nothing but an indescribable confusion. A thick cloud darkened<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</span>
-the whole horizon, justifying the description “they hide the sun
-when they fly”. The north wind blew violently and the icy sea
-surged wildly against the foot of the cliffs, but more loudly still
-resounded the shrill cries of the birds, so that the truth of the last
-part also of Faber’s description was fully proved, “they drown the
-thunder of the surf when they cry”. At length the cloud sank
-down upon the sea, the hitherto dim outlines of Swärtholm became
-distinct again, and a new spectacle enchained our gaze. On the
-precipices there seemed to sit quite as many birds as before, and
-thousands were still flying up and down. A second shot scared
-new flocks, a second time it snowed birds down upon the sea, and
-still the hillsides were covered with hundreds of thousands. But
-on the sea, as far as the eye could reach, lay gulls like light
-foam-balls rocking up and down with the waves. How shall I
-describe the magnificent spectacle? Shall I say that the sea had
-woven millions and millions of bright pearls into her dark wave-robe?
-Or shall I compare the gulls to stars; and the ocean to the
-dome of heaven? I know not; but I know that I have seen nothing
-more gorgeous even on the sea. And as if the charm were not
-already great enough, the midnight sun, erewhile clouded over,
-suddenly shed its rosy light over promontory and sea and birds,
-lighting up every wave-crest as if a golden, wide-meshed net had
-been thrown over the water, and making the rose-tinted dazzling
-gulls appear more brilliant than before. We stood speechless at the
-sight! And we, with all our company, even the sailors of our boat,
-remained motionless for a long, long time, deeply moved by the
-wonderful picture before us, till at last one of us broke the silence,
-and, rather to recover himself through the sound of his own voice
-than to express his inner feeling, softly uttered the poet’s words:</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent0">Over the bergs the sun blood-red</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Shone through the night;</div>
-<div class="verse indent0">Nor day nor dark was over head,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">But weird twilight.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="full x-ebookmaker-drop" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="c5">THE TUNDRA AND ITS ANIMAL LIFE.</h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>Around the North Pole lies a broad belt of inhospitable land, a
-desert which owes its special character rather to the water than to
-the sun. Towards the Pole this desert gradually loses itself in fields
-of ice, towards the south in dwarfed woods, becoming itself a field
-of snow and ice when the long winter sets in, while stunted trees
-attempt the struggle for existence only in the deepest valleys or
-on the sunniest slopes. This region is the Tundra.<a id="FNanchor_8" href="#Footnote_8" class="fnanchor">[6]</a></p>
-
-<p>It is a monotonous picture which I attempt to sketch when I
-seek to describe the tundra, a picture gray on gray, yet not devoid
-of all beauty; it is a desert with which we have to do, but a desert
-in which life, though for many months slumbering and apparently
-banished, stirs periodically in wondrous fulness.</p>
-
-<p>Our language possesses no synonym for the word tundra,
-because our Fatherland possesses no such tract of country. For the
-tundra is neither heath nor moor, neither marsh nor fen, neither
-highlands nor sand-dunes, neither moss nor morass, though in many
-places it may resemble one or other of these. “Moss-steppes” someone
-has attempted to name it, but the expression is only satisfactory
-to those who have grasped the idea of steppe in its widest sense.
-In my opinion the tundra most resembles one of those moors which
-we find&mdash;and avoid&mdash;on the broad saddles of our lofty mountains;
-but it differs in many and important respects even from these
-boggy plateaus; indeed its character is in every respect unique.
-The region is sometimes divided into low and high tundra, though
-the differences between the land under three hundred feet above
-sea-level and that above this line are in the tundra more apparent
-than real.</p>
-
-<p>The low tundra is bounded by flat, wavy outlines; its valleys are
-shallow troughs, and even the heights, which, from a distance, look
-like hills or even mountains, turn out to be only flat hillocks when
-one approaches their base. Flatness, uniformity, expressionlessness
-prevail, yet that there is a certain variety in the landscape, a diversity
-in some of its individual features, cannot be disputed. As one<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</span>
-wanders through the tundra for days at a time, one’s attention is
-often arrested by dainty, even charming little pictures, but such
-pictures rarely stamp themselves on the memory, since on closer
-examination they prove, in all important details, in setting and
-surroundings, in contour and colour, like too many other scenes to
-make a distinct impression. Notwithstanding this monotony, the
-general aspect of the tundra has little unity, still less grandeur, and
-on this account one does not become enthusiastic about the region,
-does not reach to the heights of emotion which other landscapes
-awaken, perhaps does not even attain to full enjoyment of the real
-beauties which, it must be admitted, even this desert possesses.</p>
-
-<p>The tundra receives its greatest beauty from the sky, its
-greatest charm from the water. The sky is seldom quite clear and
-bright, though even here the sun, shining uninterruptedly for months
-together, can beat down hot and oppressive on the flat hills and
-damp valleys. The blue sky is usually seen only in isolated places
-through light, white, loose-layered clouds; these are often massed
-together into cloud-banks which form on all sides of the apparently
-immeasurable horizon, continually changing, shifting, assuming new
-forms, appearing and vanishing again, so ravishing the eye with
-their changeful brilliance that one almost forgets the landscape
-underneath. When a thunder-storm threatens after a hot day the
-sky darkens here and there to the deepest gray-blue, the vapour-laden
-clouds sink beneath the lighter ones, and the sun shines
-through, clear and brilliant; then the dreary, monotonous landscape
-is magically beautified. For light and shade now diversify the hill-tops
-and valleys, and the wearisome monotony of their colour gains
-variety and life. And when, in the middle of a midsummer night,
-the sun stands large and blood-red in the heavens, when all the
-clouds are flushed with purple from beneath, when those hill-tops
-which hide the luminary bear a far-reaching flaming crown of rays,
-when a delicate rosy haze lies over the brown-green landscape,
-when, in a word, the indescribable magic of the midnight sun casts
-its spell over the soul: then this wilderness is transformed into
-enchanted fields, and a blissful awe fills the heart.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f9">
-<img src="images/fig9.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 5.&mdash;The High Tundra in Northern Siberia.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>But variety and life are also given by the jewels of the tundra&mdash;its
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</span>innumerable lakes. Distributed singly or in groups, lying
-beside or rising above each other, stretching out into water-basins
-miles in breadth, or shrinking into little pools, they occupy the centre
-of every hollow, beautify every valley, almost every glen, sparkle
-in the all-enlivening sunshine, and gray and colourless though they
-may be, assume, if seen from the top of a hill, the deep blue of
-mountain lakes. And when the sunlight flashes and twinkles on
-their mirroring waves, or when they, too, are touched by the rosy
-glow of midnight, they stand out from the surrounding gloom like
-living lights, on which the eye delights to linger.</p>
-
-<p>Much grander, though still gloomy and monotonous, is the
-spectacle presented by the high tundra. Here the mountains&mdash;for
-such they are&mdash;have all the charms of height. They almost always
-rise precipitously, and the chains they form have much-broken
-lines, and in all suitable places the snowy sheets which cover them
-become glaciers. Tundra in the strict sense is only to be found
-where the water does not find rapid outlet; the whole remaining
-country seems so different from the low grounds that only the essentially
-similar vegetation proclaims it tundra. The boulders, which
-in the low grounds are turfed over with thick layers of dead plant
-remains, are here almost everywhere exposed; endless heaps of
-gigantic blocks cover the slopes and fill the valleys; boulders form
-the substratum of wide, almost flat surfaces on which the traveller
-treads hesitatingly, as he ponders over the difficult riddle regarding
-the forces which have distributed the blocks over these vast surfaces
-with almost unvarying regularity. But everywhere between them the
-water trickles and glides, ripples and swells, rushes and roars, rages
-and thunders down to the low ground. From the slopes it flows in
-trickling threads, converging runlets, and murmuring brooklets;
-from the crevices of the glaciers it breaks forth in milky torrents;
-it enters the water-basins in turbid rivulets; it escapes from the
-purifying lakes in crystalline streams, and whirling and foaming,
-hissing and raging, it hurries onwards down the valleys, forming
-alternate waterfalls and whirlpools, till it reaches the low tundra, a
-river, or the sea. But the sun, as often as it breaks through the
-clouds, floods this unique mountain region also with its magic colours,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</span>
-defines every hill and valley, illumines every snowfield, makes every
-glacier and ravine conspicuous and telling, gives effect to every peak,
-ridge and cliff, shows every lake as a clear and smiling mountain
-eye, spreads, morning and evening, the blue haze of distance like a
-delicate veil over the background of the picture, and, at midnight,
-floods the whole with its deepest rays, so that it is bathed in rosy
-light. Surely even the tundra is not without its charms.</p>
-
-<p>In some places, though very rarely, the vegetation gives a
-certain form and beauty to the scenery. Pines and firs, if not
-altogether confined to the south, are only to be found in the most
-sheltered valleys. The few firs which are to be seen look as if they
-had been seized by a giant hand and twisted like a screw, and
-they do not thrive in the higher districts. The birches penetrate
-farther, but even they are stunted and bent like grizzled dwarfs. The
-larches alone here and there hold the field, and grow to be really
-trees, but they cannot be described as characteristic of the tundra.
-The most characteristic plant is certainly the dwarf-birch. Only
-under exceptionally favourable circumstances attaining to a yard
-in height, it predominates over by far the greater part of the
-tundra so absolutely that all other bushes and shrubs seem only
-to have sprung up between the birches. It spreads over all tracts
-where it can take root, from the shore of the sea or river to the
-tops of the mountains, a more or less thick covering so equal in
-height that great stretches look as if they had been shorn along
-the top; it recedes only where the ground is so soaked with water
-that it forms swamp or morass; it is stunted only where the heights
-are covered with infertile quartz or with stiff clay, which hardens
-readily in the sun; but it strives for mastery with the bog-moss
-on all the low grounds and with the reindeer-moss on every
-height. Areas of many square miles are so thickly clothed&mdash;one
-might almost say felted&mdash;that only the indestructible bog-moss
-ventures to assert its claim to the soil beside, or rather under the
-birches. In other less moist places we find dwarf-birches, sweet-willow,
-and marsh-andromeda mixed together. In the same way
-various berry-bearing bushes are often mixed, especially cowberries,
-crowberries, cranberries, and whortleberries.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</span></p>
-
-<p>If the ground lies below the level of the surrounding plains, and
-is therefore very moist, the bog-moss gains the day, and, gradually
-crowding out the dwarf-birch, forms great swelling cushions. As
-the root-parts rapidly die away into peat, these cushions become
-higher and more extensive until the water impedes any further
-advance, or else they break up into dome-like hillocks. If the
-basin be very flat, the accumulated water rarely forms a lake or
-pond, scarcely even a pool, but soaks through the soil to an indefinite
-depth, and so forms a morass whose thin but tough covering of
-interlacing sedge-roots can only be trodden in safety by the broad-hoofed
-reindeer; and even his steps, and the deeply-sinking runners
-of the sledge, make it yield and tremble like jelly.</p>
-
-<p>When the depression becomes a short confined trough, without
-outlet, into which a streamlet flows, however slowly, the morass
-becomes a bog, or lower down, a swamp. In the first of these, reeds,
-in the second downy willows (sallows), a second characteristic
-plant of the tundra, attain to luxuriant growth. Though only in
-very favourable circumstances becoming as tall as a man, these
-plants form thickets which may be literally impenetrable. Their
-branches and roots interlace to an even greater extent than do
-those of the dwarf-firs on the mountains, forming an inextricable
-maze which can best be compared to a felt compacted out of all the
-different parts of the willow. It withstands the strongest arm,
-when one tries to clear a path through it, and it offers so much
-obstruction to the foot that the most persistent explorer soon gives
-up the attempt to pierce it, and turns aside, or retraces his steps.
-This he does the more readily as the substratum is in most cases
-morass or an almost continuous series of marshy, slimy pools whose
-fathomableness one is unwilling even to try.</p>
-
-<p>As the traveller journeys through the tundra, he recognizes that
-the whole region presents to the eye the individual features already
-described, in regular alternation and monotonous repetition. Only
-where a large river of considerable volume flows through the low
-tundra is there any real change. Such a river deposits on its
-banks the masses of sand it has carried down; and the wind, which
-blows constantly and usually violently, piles these gradually up<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</span>
-into dunes along the banks; thus a soil foreign to the tundra is
-formed. On these sand-hills the larch grows, even in the tundra of
-Siberia, to a stately tree, and becomes, in association with willows
-and dwarf alder bushes, an ornament to the landscape. In the
-neighbourhood of small lakes the trees may even be grouped
-together, and, with the shrubs already named, form a natural
-park which would not escape observation even in a much richer
-and more fertile district, and is here so very remarkable that it
-leaves a lasting impression.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f10">
-<img src="images/fig10.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 6.&mdash;Peregrine Falcons and Lemmings.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>When the larch has taken root in the sand-hills, there grow up
-under its sheltering branches other tall-stemmed plants such as
-sharp-leaved willows, mountain ash, black alder, and woodbine
-bushes, and there spring from the sand many flowers which one
-thought to have left far behind in the south. The surprised<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</span>
-southerner is cheered by the red glory of the willow-herb; the
-charming wild rose clings close to the motherly earth, decorating
-it with its slender stems and its flowers; the bright forget-me-not
-looks up with home-like greeting; here hellebore and chives,
-valerian and thyme, carnations and blue-bells, bird-vetch and
-alpine vetch, ranunculus and immortelles, lady’s-smock, Jacob’s-ladder,
-cinquefoil, love-lies-bleeding, and others find a home in the
-desert. In such places more plants grow than one had expected,
-but the traveller is certainly modest in his expectations when he
-has seen the same poverty all around for days and weeks together,
-always dwarf-birches and sallows, marsh-andromeda and sedge,
-reindeer-moss and bog-moss; has refreshed himself with the stunted
-crowberries and cranberries half-hidden in the moss, half-creeping
-on the ground, and has been obliged to take the cloudberries which
-decorate the moss-cushion as flowers; when he has tramped over
-them and among them for days together always hoping for a
-change, and always being disappointed. Every familiar plant from
-the south reminds him of happier regions; he greets it as a dear
-friend whose value is only realized when he has begun to fear
-losing him.<a id="FNanchor_8a" href="#Footnote_8a" class="fnanchor">[7]</a></p>
-
-<p>It seems strange that the plants above-named and many others
-should spring only from the dry sand of the dunes, but the apparent
-riddle is solved when we know that it is only the sand thus piled
-up, that becomes sufficiently warmed in the months of uninterrupted
-sunshine for these plants to flourish. Nowhere else throughout the
-tundra is this the case. Moor and bog, morass and swamp, even
-the lakes with water several yards in depth only form a thin
-summer covering over the eternal winter which reigns in the
-tundra, with destructive as well as with preserving power. Wherever
-one tries to penetrate to any depth in the soil one comes&mdash;in
-most cases scarcely a yard from the surface&mdash;upon ice, or at least
-on frozen soil, and it is said that one must dig about a hundred
-yards before breaking through the ice-crust of the earth. It is this
-crust which prevents the higher plants from vigorous growth, and
-allows only such to live as are content with the dry layer of soil
-which thaws in summer. It is only by digging that one can know<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</span>
-the tundra for what it is: an immeasurable and unchangeable ice-vault
-which has endured, and will continue to endure, for hundreds
-of thousands of years. That it has thus endured is proved indisputably
-by the remains of prehistoric animals embedded in it, and thus
-preserved for us. In 1807 Adams dug from the ice of the tundras
-the giant mammoth, with whose flesh the dogs of the Yakuts sated
-their hunger, although it must have died many thousands of years
-before, for the race became extinct in the incalculably distant past.
-The icy tundra had faithfully preserved the carcase of this primitive
-elephant all through these hundreds of thousands of years.<a id="FNanchor_9" href="#Footnote_9" class="fnanchor">[8]</a></p>
-
-<p>Many similar animals, and others of a more modern time, are
-embedded in the ice, though it is not to be supposed that the tundra
-was ever able to sustain a much richer fauna than it has now.
-Bison and musk-ox traversed it long after the time of the mammoth;
-giant-elk and moose belonged to it once. Now its animal life is as
-poor and monotonous as its vegetation&mdash;as itself. This holds true,
-however, only with regard to species, not to individuals, for the
-tundra is, at least in summer, the home of numerous animals.</p>
-
-<p>The year is well advanced before the tundra begins to be visibly
-peopled. Of the species which never leave it one sees very little in
-winter. The fish which ascend its rivers from the sea are concealed
-by the ice; the mammals and birds which winter in it are hidden by
-the snow, under which they live, or whose colour they wear. Not
-until the snow begins to melt on the southern slopes does the animal
-life begin to stir. Hesitatingly the summer visitors make their appearance.
-The wolf follows the wild reindeer, the army of summer
-birds follows the drifting ice blocks on the streams. Some of the
-birds remain still undecided in the regions to the South, behave as if
-they would breed there, then suddenly disappear from their resting-place
-by the way, fly hastily to the tundra, begin to build directly
-on their arrival, lay their eggs, and brood eagerly, as though they
-wished to make up for the time gained by their relatives in the
-South. Their summer life is compressed into few weeks. They
-arrive already united, paired for life, or at least for the summer; their
-hearts stirred by all-powerful love, they proceed, singing and rejoicing,
-to build a nest; unceasingly they give themselves up to their<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</span>
-parental duties, brood, rear, and educate their young, moult, and
-migrate abroad again.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f11">
-<img src="images/fig11.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 7.&mdash;The White or Arctic Fox (<i>Canis lagopus</i>).</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>The number of species which may be looked upon as native to
-the tundra is small indeed, yet it is much greater than that of those
-which may be regarded as characteristic of the region. As the first
-of these, I should like to place the Arctic fox. He ranges over the
-whole extent of the tundra, and is sure of maintenance and food
-in the south at least, where he occurs along with our fox and other
-allied species. Like some other creatures he wears the colours of
-his home, in summer a rock-coloured dress, in winter a snow-white
-robe, for the hairs of his thick fur coat are at first stone-gray or
-grayish-blue, and become snow-white in winter.<a id="FNanchor_10" href="#Footnote_10" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> He struggles
-through life with ups and downs like other foxes, but his whole
-character and conduct are quite different from those of our reynard
-and his near relatives. One scarcely does him injustice in describing
-him as a degenerate member of a distinguished family, unusually
-gifted, intelligent, and ingenious. Of the slyness and ingenuity,
-the calculating craft, the never-failing presence of mind of his
-congeners he evinces hardly any trace. His disposition is bold and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</span>
-forward, his manner officious, his behaviour foolish. He may be a
-bold beggar, an impudent vagabond, but he is never a cunning thief
-or robber, weighing all circumstances, and using all available means
-to attain his end. Unconcernedly he stares at the huntsman’s gun;
-unwarned by the ball, which passes whistling over his body, he
-follows his worst enemy; unhesitatingly he forces his way into the
-birch-bark hut of the wandering reindeer-herdsmen; without fear
-he approaches a man sleeping in the open, to steal the game he has
-caught, or even to snap at a naked limb. On one occasion an Arctic
-fox at which I had several times fired in vain in the dusk, kept following
-my steps like a dog. My old sporting friend, Erik Swenson
-of Dovrefjeld, relates that one night a fox nibbled the fur rug on
-which he lay, and old Steller vouches for many other pranks which
-this animal plays, pranks which every one would declare incredible
-were they not thoroughly guaranteed by corroborating observations.
-An insufficient knowledge of human beings, so sparsely represented
-in the tundra, may to some extent account for the extraordinary
-behaviour of this fox, but it is not the only reason. For neither the
-red fox nor any other mammal of the tundra behaves with so little
-caution; not even the lemming approaches him in this respect.</p>
-
-<p>A strange creature certainly is this last inhabitant of our region
-whatever species of his family we consider. He, or at least his
-tracks, may be seen everywhere throughout the tundra. The tracks
-run in all directions, often through places overgrown by dwarf-birches,
-narrow, smooth, neatly-kept paths in the moss, going
-straight for several hundred yards, then diverging to right or left,
-and only returning to the main path after many circuits. On these
-we may often see, in great numbers during a dry summer, a little,
-short-tailed, hamster-like animal nimbly pattering along and soon
-disappearing out of sight. This is the lemming, a rodent smaller
-than a rat, but larger than a mouse, and with brightly but irregularly
-marked skin, usually brown, yellow, gray, and black. If we
-dissect the animal we see, not without surprise, that it consists
-almost entirely of skin and viscera. Its bones and muscles are fine
-and tender; its viscera, especially the alimentary and the reproductive
-organs, are enormously developed. This state of things<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</span>
-explains some phenomena of its life which were long considered
-unintelligible: the almost abrupt occurrence of well-nigh unlimited
-fertility, and the vast, apparently organized migrations of the
-animal. In ordinary circumstances the lemming leads a very comfortable
-life. Neither in summer nor in winter has he any anxiety
-about subsistence. In winter he devours all sorts of vegetable
-matter,&mdash;moss-tips, lichen, and bark; in summer he lives in his
-burrow, in winter in a warm, thick-walled, softly-lined nest.
-Danger indeed threatens from all sides, for not only beasts and
-birds of prey, but even the reindeer devour hundreds and thousands
-of lemmings;<a id="FNanchor_11" href="#Footnote_11" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> nevertheless they increase steadily and rapidly, until
-special circumstances arise when millions, which have come into
-existence within a few weeks, are annihilated within a few days.
-Spring sets in early, and a more than usually dry summer prevails
-in the tundra. All the young of the first litter of the various
-lemming females thrive, and six weeks later, at the most, these also
-multiply. Meantime the parents have brought forth a second and
-a third litter, and these in their turn bring forth young. Within
-three months the heights and low grounds of the tundra teem with
-lemmings, just as our fields do with mice under similar circumstances.
-Whichever way we turn, we see the busy little creatures,
-dozens at a single glance, thousands in the course of an hour. They
-run about on all the paths and roads; driven to extremity, they
-turn, snarling and sharpening their teeth, on the defensive even
-against man, as if their countless numbers lent to each individual
-a defiant courage. But the countless and still-increasing numbers
-prove their own destruction. Soon the lean tundra ceases to afford
-employment enough for their greedy teeth. Famine threatens, perhaps
-actually sets in. The anxious animals crowd together and
-begin their march. Hundreds join with hundreds, thousands with
-other thousands: the troops become swarms, the swarms armies.
-They travel in a definite direction, at first following old tracks,
-but soon striking out new ones; in unending files&mdash;defying all computation&mdash;they
-hasten onwards; over the cliffs they plunge into
-the water. Thousands fall victims to want and hunger; the army
-behind streams on over their corpses; hundreds of thousands are<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</span>
-drowned in the water, or are shattered at the foot of the cliffs;
-the remainder speed on; other hundreds and thousands fall victims
-to the voracity of Arctic and red foxes, wolves and gluttons, rough-legged
-buzzards and ravens, owls and skuas which have followed
-them; the survivors pay no heed. Where these go, how they end,
-none can say, but certain it is that the tundra behind them is as if
-dead, that a number of years pass ere the few who have remained
-behind, and have managed to survive, slowly multiply, and visibly
-re-people their native fields.<a id="FNanchor_12" href="#Footnote_12" class="fnanchor">[11]</a></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f12">
-<img src="images/fig12.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 8.&mdash;The Reindeer (<i>Tarandus rangifer</i>).</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>A third animal characteristic of the tundra is the reindeer.
-Those who know this deer, in itself by no means beautiful, only in
-a state of captivity and slavery, can form no idea of what it is under
-natural conditions. Here in the tundra one learns to appreciate
-the reindeer, to recognize and value him as a member of a family
-which he does not disgrace. He belongs to the tundra, body and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</span>
-soul. Over the immense glacier and the quivering crust of the
-unfathomable morass, over the boulder-heaps and the matted tops
-of the dwarf-birches or over the mossy hillocks, over rivers and lakes
-he runs or swims with his broad-hoofed, shovel-like, extraordinarily
-mobile feet, which crackle at every step. In the deepest snow he
-uses his foot to dig for food. He is protected against the deadly
-cold of the long northern night by his thick skin, which the arrows
-of winter cannot pierce, against the pangs of hunger by the indiscriminateness
-of his appetite. From the wolf, which invariably
-follows close on his heels, he is, in some measure at least, saved by
-the acuteness of his senses, by his speed and endurance. He passes
-the summer on the clear heights of the tundra, where, on the
-slopes just beside the glaciers, the soil, belted over with reindeer-moss,
-also brings forth juicy, delicate alpine plants; in winter he
-ranges through the low tundra from hill to hill seeking spots from
-which the snow has been cleared off by the wind.<a id="FNanchor_13" href="#Footnote_13" class="fnanchor">[12]</a> Shortly before
-this, having attained to his full strength and fully grown his branching
-antlers, he had in passionate violence engaged in deadly combat
-with like-minded rivals as strong as himself until the still tundra
-resounded with the clashing of their horns. Now, worn out with
-fighting and with love, he ranges peacefully through his territory
-with others of his kind, associated in large herds, seeking only to
-maintain the struggle with winter. The reindeer is certainly far
-behind the stag in beauty and nobility, but when one sees the great
-herds, unhampered by the fetters of slavery, on the mountains of
-their native tundra, in vivid contrast to the blue of the sky and
-the whiteness of the snowy carpet, one must acknowledge that he,
-too, takes rank among noble wild beasts, and that he has more
-power than is usually supposed to quicken the beating of the
-sportsman’s heart.</p>
-
-<p>The tundra also possesses many characteristic birds. Whoever
-has traversed the northern desert must have met one, at least, of
-these, the ptarmigan:</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent0">“In summer gay from top to toe,</div>
-<div class="verse indent0">In winter whiter than the snow”.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</span></p>
-
-<p>I do not allude to the ptarmigan of our mountains, which is here
-also restricted to the glacier region, but to the much more abundant
-willow-grouse. Wherever the dwarf-birch thrives it is to be found,
-and it is always visible, but especially when the silence of night has
-fallen upon the tundra, even though the sun be shining overhead. It
-never entirely forsakes its haunts, but, at the most, descends from
-the heights to the low grounds in winter. It is lively and nimble,
-pert and self-possessed, jealous and quarrelsome towards its rivals,
-affectionate and devoted towards its mate and young. Its life
-resembles that of our partridge, but its general behaviour has a
-much greater charm. It is the embodiment of life in the desert.
-Its challenging call rings out through the still summer night, and
-the coveys enliven the wintry tundra, forsaken by almost all other
-birds. Its presence gladdens and charms naturalist and sportsman
-alike.</p>
-
-<p>During summer the golden plover, which also must be described
-as a faithful child of the tundra, is to be met almost everywhere.
-As the swift ostrich to the desert, the sand-grouse to the steppes, the
-rock-partridge to the mountains, the lark to the corn-fields, so the
-golden plover belongs to the tundra. Gay as its dress may be, they
-are the colours of the tundra which it wears; its melancholy cry is
-the sound most in keeping with this dreary region. Much as we
-like to see it in our own country, we greet it without pleasure here,
-for its cry uttered day and night makes us as sad as the tundra
-itself.</p>
-
-<p>With much greater pleasure does one listen to the voice of
-another summer guest of the region. I do not refer to the tender
-melodies of the blue-throated warbler, which is here one of the
-commonest of brooding birds and justly named the “hundred-tongued
-singer”, nor to the ringing notes of the fieldfare, which
-also extends to the tundra, nor to the short song of the snow
-bunting, nor to the shrill cries of the peregrine falcon or the rough-legged
-buzzard, nor to the exultant hooting of the sea-eagle or the
-similar cry of the snowy owl, nor to the resounding trumpet-call of
-the musical swan or the plaintive bugle-like note of the Arctic duck,
-but to the pairing and love cry of one or other of the divers&mdash;a wild,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</span>
-unregulated, unrestrained, yet sonorous and tuneful, resonant and
-ringing northern melody, comparable to the roar of the surge or to
-the thunder of a waterfall as it rushes to the deep. Wherever a lake
-rich in fish is to be found, with a secret place in the reeds thick
-enough to conceal a floating nest, we find these children of the
-tundra and the sea, these soberly-joyous fishers in the calm fresh
-waters and fearless divers in the northern sea. Thence they have
-come to the tundra to brood, and back thither they will lead their
-young as soon as these are able, like themselves, to master the waves.
-Over the whole extent of the tundra they visit its waters, but
-they prefer to the broad inland lakes the little ponds on the hills
-along the coast, whence they can daily plunge, with their wildly jubilant
-sea song, into the heaving, bountiful ocean, which is their home.</p>
-
-<p>From the sea come other two birds very characteristic of the
-tundra. The eye follows every movement of the robber-gulls with
-real delight, of the phalarope with actual rapture. Both breed in
-the tundra: the one on open mossy moors, the other on the banks
-of the most hidden ponds and pools among the sallows. If
-other gulls be the “ravens of the sea” the skuas may well be called
-the “sea-falcons”. With full justice do they bear the names of
-robber and parasitic gulls, for they are excellent birds of prey
-when there is no opportunity for parasitism, and they become
-parasites when their own hunting has been unsuccessful. Falcon-like
-they fly in summer through the tundra, in winter along the
-coast regions of the North Sea; they hover over land or sea to find
-their prey, then swoop down skilfully and gracefully and seize
-without fail the victim they have sighted. But even these capable
-hunters do not scruple, under some circumstances, to become bold
-beggars. Woe to the gull or other sea-bird which seizes its prey
-within sight of a skua! With arrow-like swiftness he follows
-the fortunate possessor uttering barking cries, dances, as if playfully,
-round him on all sides, cunningly prevents any attempt at
-flight, resists all defence, and untiringly and ceaselessly teases him
-till he gives up his prize, even though it has to be regurgitated
-from his crop. The life and habits of the Arctic skua, its skill and
-agility, its courage and impudence, untiring watchfulness and irresistible<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</span>
-importunity are extraordinarily fascinating; even its begging
-can be excused, so great are its charms. Yet the phalarope is still
-more attractive. It is a shore bird, which unites in itself the qualities
-of its own order and those of the swimming birds, living, as it
-does, partly on land, partly in the water, even in the sea. Buoyant
-and agile, surpassing all other swimming birds in grace of motion,
-it glides upon the waves; quickly and nimbly it runs along the
-shore; with the speed of a snipe it wings its zigzag flight through
-the air. Confidently and without fear it allows itself to be observed
-quite closely, and in its anxiety for the safety of its brood usually
-betrays its own nest, with the four pear-shaped eggs, however carefully
-it has been concealed among the reeds. It is perhaps the
-most pleasing of all the birds of the tundra.<a id="FNanchor_14" href="#Footnote_14" class="fnanchor">[13]</a></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f13">
-<img src="images/fig13.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 9.&mdash;Skuas, Phalarope, and Golden Plovers.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</span></p>
-
-<p>Likewise characteristic of the tundra are the birds of prey, or,
-at least, their manner of life there is characteristic. For it is only
-on the southern boundary of the region or among the heights that
-there are trees or rocks on which they can build their eyries, and
-they are perforce obliged to brood on the ground. Among the
-winding branches of the dwarf-birch is the nest of the marsh-owl,
-on its crown that of the rough-legged buzzard; on the bare ground
-lie the eggs of the snowy-owl and the peregrine falcon, though the
-latter chooses a place as near as possible to the edge of a gully, as
-though he would deceive himself by vainly attempting to make up
-for the lack of heights. That it and all the others are fully conscious
-of the insecurity of their nesting-place is shown by their
-behaviour on the approach of man. From a distance the traveller
-is watched suspiciously and is greeted with loud cries; the nearer
-he approaches the greater grows the fear of the anxious parents.
-Hitherto they have been circling at a safe distance, about twice as
-far as a shot would carry, over the unfamiliar but dreaded enemy;
-now they swoop boldly down, and fly so closely past his head that
-he distinctly hears the sharp whirr of their wings, sometimes indeed
-he has reason to fear that he will be actually attacked. Meanwhile
-the young birds, which are visible even from a distance as white
-balls, bend timidly down and await the approach of this enemy,&mdash;suspected
-at least, if not known as such,&mdash;sitting so still in their
-chosen, or perhaps forced position that one can sketch them without
-fear of being disturbed by a single movement&mdash;a charming picture!</p>
-
-<p>Many other animals might be enumerated if I thought them
-necessary to a picture of the tundra. At least one more is characteristic&mdash;the
-mosquito. To call it the most important living creature
-of the tundra would be scarcely an exaggeration. It enables not
-a few of the higher animals, especially birds and fishes, to live; it
-forces others, like man, to periodic wanderings; and it is in itself
-enough to make the tundra uninhabitable in summer by civilized
-beings. Its numbers are beyond all conception; its power conquers
-man and beast; the torture it causes beggars description.</p>
-
-<p>It is well known that the eggs of all mosquitoes are laid in the
-water, and that the larvæ which creep forth in a few days remain<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</span>
-in the water till their metamorphosis is accomplished. This explains
-why the tundra is more favourable than any other region to their
-development, and to their occurrence in enormous numbers. As
-soon as the sun, once more ascending, has thawed the snow, the ice,
-and the upper crust of the earth, the life of the mosquito, latent in
-winter but not extinguished, begins to stir again. The larvæ escape
-from the eggs which have been buried, but not destroyed, in the
-frozen mud; in a few days these larvæ become pupæ, the pupæ become
-winged insects, and generation follows generation in quick
-succession. The heyday of the terrible pests lasts from before the
-beginning of the summer solstice until the middle of August.</p>
-
-<p>During the whole of this time they are present on the heights
-as in the low grounds, on the mountains or hills as in the valleys,
-among the dwarf-birches and sallow bushes as on the banks of
-rivers and lakes. Every grass-stalk, every moss-blade, every twig,
-every branch, every little leaf sends forth hundreds and thousands
-of them all day long. The mosquitoes of tropical countries, of the
-forests and marshes of South America, the interior of Africa, India,
-and the Sunda islands, so much dreaded by travellers, swarm only at
-night; the mosquitoes of the tundra fly for ten weeks, for six of these
-actually without interruption. They form swarms which look like
-thick black smoke; they surround, as with a fog, every creature
-which ventures into their domains; they fill the air in such numbers
-that one hardly dares to breathe; they baffle every attempt to drive
-them off; they transform the strongest man into an irresolute weakling,
-his anger into fear, his curses into groans.</p>
-
-<p>As soon as the traveller sets foot on the tundra their buzzing is
-heard, now like the singing of a tea-kettle, now like the sound of a
-vibrating metal rod, and, a few minutes later, he is surrounded by
-thousands and thousands. A cloud of them swarms round head
-and shoulders, body and limbs, follows his steps, however quickly
-he moves, and cannot possibly be dispersed. If he remain standing,
-the cloud thickens; if he move on, it draws itself out; if he run as
-quickly as possible, it stretches into a long train, but does not remain
-behind. If a moderate wind is blowing against them, the insects
-hasten their flight to make headway against the current of air;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</span>
-when the wind is more violent all the members of the swarm strain
-themselves to the utmost so as not to lose their victim, and pounce
-like pricking hailstones on head and neck. Before he knows, he
-is covered from head to foot with mosquitoes. In a dense swarm,
-blackening gray clothes, giving dark ones a strange spotted appearance,
-they settle down and creep slowly about, looking for an
-unappropriated spot from which to suck blood. They creep noiselessly
-and without being felt to the unprotected face and neck, the
-bare hands and the feet covered only with stockings, and a moment
-later they slowly sink their sting into the skin, and pour the irritant
-poison into the wound. Furiously the victim beats the blood-sucker
-to a pulp, but while the chastising hand still moves, three, four, ten
-other gnats fasten on it, while others begin work on the face, neck,
-and feet, ready to do exactly as the slain ones had done. For when
-blood has once flowed, when several insects have met their death on
-the same place, all the rest seek out that very spot, even though the
-surface becomes gradually covered with bodies. Specially favourite
-points of attack are the temples, the forehead just under the hat-brim,
-the neck and the wrist, places, in short, which can be least
-well protected.</p>
-
-<p>If an observer can so far restrain himself as to watch them at
-their work of blood, without driving them away or disturbing them,
-he notices that neither their settling nor their moving about is
-felt in the least. Immediately after alighting they set to work.
-Leisurely they walk up and down on the skin, carefully feeling
-it with their proboscis; suddenly they stand still and with surprising
-ease pierce the skin. While they suck, they lift one of the
-hind-legs and wave it with evident satisfaction backwards and
-forwards, the more emphatically the more the translucent body
-becomes filled with blood. As soon as they have tasted blood they
-pay no heed to anything else, and seem scarcely to feel though
-they are molested and tortured. If one draws the proboscis out of
-the wound with forceps, they feel about for a moment, and then
-bore again in the same or a new place; if one cuts the proboscis
-quickly through with sharp scissors, they usually remain still as
-if they must think for a minute, then pass the forelegs gently over<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</span>
-the remaining portion and make a prolonged examination to assure
-themselves that the organ is no longer present; if one suddenly
-cuts off one of their hind-legs, they go on sucking as if nothing had
-happened and continue to move the stump; if one cuts the blood-filled
-body in half, they proceed like Münchausen’s horse at the
-well, but at length they withdraw the proboscis from the wound,
-fly staggeringly away and die within a few minutes.</p>
-
-<p>Careful observation of their habits places it beyond doubt that, in
-the discovery of their victim, they are guided less by sight than by
-smell, or perhaps, more correctly, by a sense which unites smell and
-tactile sensitiveness.<a id="FNanchor_15" href="#Footnote_15" class="fnanchor">[14]</a> It can be observed with certainty that, if a
-human being approach within five yards of their resting-place, they
-rise and fly to their prey without hesitating or diverging. If anyone
-crosses a bare sand-bank usually free from them he can observe how
-they gather about their victim. Apparently half carried by the
-wind, half moving by their own exertions, but at any rate wandering
-aimlessly, some float continually over even this place of pilgrimage,
-and a few thus reach the neighbourhood of the observer.
-At once their seeming inactivity is at an end. Abruptly they alter
-their course, and make straight for the happily-found object of their
-longing. Others soon join them, and before five minutes have
-passed, the martyr is again surrounded by a nimbus. They find
-their way less easily through different strata of air. While observing
-them on a high dune I had been followed and tormented for some
-time by thousands, so I led the swarm to the edge of the steep slope,
-let it thicken there, and then sprang suddenly to the foot. With
-much satisfaction I saw that I had shaken off the greater number of
-my tormentors. They swarmed in bewildered confusion on the top
-of the dune, forming a dense cloud for some time over the place
-from which I had leaped. A few hundreds had, however, followed
-me to the lower ground.</p>
-
-<p>Though the naturalist knows that it is only the female mosquitoes
-which suck blood, and that their activity in this respect is
-indubitably connected with reproduction, and is probably necessary
-to the ripening of the fertilized eggs, yet even he is finally overcome
-by the tortures caused by these demons of the tundra,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</span>
-though he be the most equable philosopher under the sun. It is
-not the pain caused by the sting, or still more, by the resulting
-swelling; it is the continual annoyance, the everlastingly recurring
-discomfort under which one suffers. One can endure the pain
-of the sting without complaint even at first, still more easily when
-the skin has become less sensitive to the repeatedly instilled poison;
-thus one can hold out for a long time. But sooner or later every
-man is bound to confess himself conquered and beaten by these
-terrible torturing spirits of the tundra. All resistance is gradually
-paralysed by the innumerable, omnipresent armies always ready for
-combat. The foot refuses its duty; the mind receives no impressions;
-the tundra becomes a hell, and its pests an unutterable torture.
-Not winter with its snows, not the ice with its cold, not
-poverty, not inhospitality, but the mosquitoes are the curse of the
-tundra.<a id="FNanchor_16" href="#Footnote_16" class="fnanchor">[15]</a></p>
-
-<p>During the height of their season the mosquitoes fly almost
-uninterruptedly, during sunshine and calm weather with evident
-satisfaction, in a moderate wind quite comfortably, in slightly
-warm weather gaily, before threatening rain most boisterously
-of all, in cool weather very little, in cold, not at all. A violent
-storm banishes them to the bushes and moss, but, as soon as it
-moderates, they are once more lively and active, and in all places
-sheltered from the wind they are ready for attack even while
-the storm is raging. A night of hoar-frost plays obvious havoc
-among them, but does not rid us of them; cold damp days thin
-their armies, but succeeding warmth brings hosts of newly developed
-individuals on the field. The autumn fogs finally bring deliverance
-for that year.</p>
-
-<p>Autumn in the tundra comes on as quickly as spring came
-slowly. A single cold night, generally in August, or at the latest
-in September, puts an end to its summer life. The berries, which,
-in the middle of August, looked as if they would scarcely ripen
-at all, have become as juicy and sweet as possible by the end
-of the month; a few damp, cold nights, which lightly cover the
-hills with snow, hasten their ripening more than the sun, which is
-already clouded over all day long. The leaves of the dwarf-birch<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</span>
-become a pale but brilliant lake-red on the upper surface, a bright
-yellow beneath; all the other bushes and shrubs undergo a similar
-transformation: and the gloomy brown-green of the tundra becomes
-such a vivid brown-red that even the yellow-green of the reindeer-moss
-is no longer conspicuous. The winged summer guests
-fly southwards or towards the sea, the fishes of the tundra swim
-down the rivers. From the hills the reindeer, followed by the
-wolf, comes down to the low grounds; the ptarmigan, now congregated
-in flocks of thousands, fly up to the heights to remain
-until winter again drives them down to the low tundra.</p>
-
-<p>After a few days this winter, as much dreaded by us as by
-the migratory birds, yet longed for by the human inhabitants
-of the tundra, sets in on the inhospitable land, to maintain its
-supremacy longer, much longer than spring, summer, and autumn
-together. For days and weeks in succession snow falls, sometimes
-coming down lightly in sharp-cornered crystals, or sometimes in
-large flakes, driven by a raging storm. Hills and valleys, rivers
-and lakes are gradually shrouded in the same winter dress. A brief
-ray of sunshine still gleams occasionally at mid-day over the snowy
-expanse; but soon only a pale brightness in the south proclaims
-that there the sunny day is half-gone. The long night of winter
-has begun. For months only the faint reflection of the stars
-twinkles in the snow, only the moon gives tidings of the vitalizing
-centre of our system. But when the sun has quite disappeared
-from the tundra another light rises radiant: far up in the north
-there flickers and flashes “Soweidud”, the fire of God, the flaming
-Northern Light.</p>
-
-
-<hr class="full x-ebookmaker-drop" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="c6">THE ASIATIC STEPPES AND THEIR FAUNA.</h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>There is perhaps monotony, but there is also the interest of a
-well-marked individuality in that immense tract of country which
-includes the whole of Central Asia, and extends into Southern
-Europe, and which forms the region of the steppes. To the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</span>
-superficial observer it may seem an easy thing to characterize these
-steppes, but the difficulty of the task is soon felt by the careful
-observer. For the steppes are not so invariably uniform, so absolutely
-changeless as is usually supposed. They have their time
-of blooming and their time of withering, their summer and their
-winter aspects, and some variety at every season is implied in the
-fact that there are mountains and valleys, streams and rivers, lakes
-and marshes. The monotony is really due to the thousand-fold
-repetition of the same picture, what pleased and even charmed
-when first seen becoming tame by everyday familiarity.</p>
-
-<p>The Russian applies the word steppe, which we have borrowed
-from his language, to all unwooded tracts in middle latitudes, when
-they are of considerable extent, and bear useful vegetation. It matters
-not whether they be perfectly flat or gently undulating plains,
-highlands or mountains, whether there be patches of fat, black soil,
-admitting of profitable agriculture, or merely great tracts of poor
-soil covered with such vegetation as grows without man’s aid, and
-is useful only to the nomadic herdsman. This wide usage of the
-term is convenient, for throughout the whole region we find the
-same plants rising from the ground, the same types of animal life,
-and approximately the same phenomena of seasonal change.</p>
-
-<p>Unwooded the steppe-lands must be called, but they are not
-absolutely treeless. Neither shrubs nor trees are awanting where
-the beds of the streams and rivers form broad and deep valleys.
-In very favourable circumstances, willows, white and silver poplars,
-grow to be lofty trees, which may unite in a thick fringe by the
-river banks, or birches may establish themselves and form groves
-and woods, or pines may plant their feet firmly on the sand-dunes,
-and form small settlements, which, though not comparable to true
-forests, are, at least, compact little woods, like the growths along the
-river-banks. But, after all, such wooded spots are exceptions, they
-constitute to some extent a foreign element in the steppe scenery,
-and suggest oases in a desert.</p>
-
-<p>At one place the steppe may stretch before the eye as a boundless
-plain, here and there gently undulating; at another place
-the region has been much upheaved, is full of variety, and may<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</span>
-even be mountainous. Generally the horizon is bounded on all
-sides by ranges of hills of variable height, and often these hills
-inclose a trough-like valley from which it seems as if the water
-must be puzzled to find its way out, if, indeed, it does so at all.
-From the longer cross valleys of the often much-ramified ranges
-a small stream may flow towards the lowest part of the basin and
-end in a lake, whose salt-covered shores sparkle in the distance
-as if the winter snow still lay upon them. Viewed from afar,
-the hills look like lofty mountains, for on these vast plains the
-eye loses its standard for estimating magnitude; and when the
-rocks stand out above the surface and form domes and cones, sharp
-peaks and jagged pinnacles on their summits, even the practised
-observer is readily deceived. Of course there are some genuinely lofty
-mountains, for, apart from those near the Chinese boundary, there
-are others on the Kirghiz steppes, which even on close view lose little
-of the impressiveness that the ruggedness of their peaks and slopes
-gives them when seen from a distance. The higher and more ramified
-the mountains, the more numerous are the streams which they
-send down to the lower grounds, and the larger are the lakes that
-occupy the depressions at their base&mdash;basins which their feeders
-are unable to fill, even though unable to find a way through the
-surrounding banks. The more extensive, also, are the salt-steppes
-around these lakes&mdash;salt because they have no outlet. But apart
-from these variations, the characteristics of the steppes are uniform;
-though the composition of the picture is often changed, its theme
-remains the same.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f14">
-<img src="images/fig14.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 10.&mdash;View in the Asiatic Steppes.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>We should convey a false impression if we denied charm, or
-even grandeur, to the scenery of the steppes. The North German
-moorland is drearier, Brandenburg is more monotonous. In the
-gently undulating plain the eye rests gratefully on the lakes which
-fill all the deeper hollows; in the highlands or among the loftier
-mountains the gleaming water-basins are a real ornament to the
-landscape. It is true that the lake is, in most cases, though not
-invariably, without the charm of surrounding verdure, often
-without so much as a fringe of bushes. But, even when it lies
-naked and bare, it brightens the steppes. For the blue sky,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</span>
-mirrored on its surface, smiles kindly towards us, and the enlivening
-effect of water makes itself felt even here. And when
-a lake is ringed round by hills, or framed, as at Alakul, by lofty
-mountains; when the steppes are sharply and picturesquely contrasted
-with the glittering water-surface, the dark mountain-sides,
-and the snowy summits; when the soft haze of distance lies like a
-delicate veil over hill and plain, suggesting a hidden beauty richer
-than there really is; then we acknowledge readily and gladly that
-there is a witchery of landscape even in the steppes.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f15">
-<img src="images/fig15.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 11.&mdash;A Salt Marsh in the Steppes.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Even when we traverse the monotonous valleys many miles
-in breadth, or the almost unbroken plains, whose far horizon is but
-an undulating line, when we see one almost identical picture to
-north, south, east, and west, when the apparent infinitude raises a
-feeling of loneliness and abandonment, even then we must allow
-that the steppes have more to show than our heaths, for the
-vegetation is much richer, more brilliant, and more changeful. Indeed,
-it is only here and there, where the salt-steppes broaden out
-around a lake, that the landscape seems dreary and desolate. In<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</span>
-such places none of the steppe plants flourish, and their place is
-taken by a small, scrubby saltwort, not unlike stunted heather,
-only here and there attaining the size of low bushes. The salt lies
-as a more or less thick layer on the ground, filling the hollows
-between the bushes so that they look like pools covered with ice.
-Salt covers the whole land, keeping the mud beneath permanently
-moist, adhering firmly to the ground, and hardly separable from it.
-Great balls of salt and mud are raised by the traveller’s feet and
-the horses’ hoofs at every step, just as if the ground were covered
-with slushy snow. The waggon makes a deep track in the tough
-substratum, and the trundling wheels sometimes leave marks on
-the salt like those left on snow in time of hard frost. Such regions
-are in truth indescribably dismal and depressing, but elsewhere it is
-not so.</p>
-
-<p>The vegetation of the steppes is much richer in species than is
-usually supposed, much richer indeed than I, not being a botanist,
-am able to compute. On the black soil, the tschi-grass, the thyrsa-grass,
-and the spiræa in some places choke off almost all other
-plants; but in the spaces between these, and on leaner soil, all sorts
-of gay flowers spring up. In the hollows, too, the vegetation becomes
-gradually that of the marsh, and reeds and rushes, which here predominate,
-leave abundant room for the development of a varied
-plant-life. But the time of blooming is short, and the time of
-withering and dying is long in the steppes.<a id="FNanchor_17" href="#Footnote_17" class="fnanchor">[16]</a></p>
-
-<p>Perhaps it is not too much to say that the contrasts of the
-seasons are nowhere more vivid than in the steppes. Wealth of
-bright flowers and desert-like sterility, the charms of autumn and
-the desolation of winter, succeed one another; the disruptive forces
-are as strong as those which recreate, the sun’s heat destroys as
-surely as the cold. But what has been smitten by the heat and
-swept away by raging storms is replaced in the first sunshine of
-spring; and even the devouring fire is not potent enough wholly to
-destroy what has been spared by the sun and the storms. The
-spring may seem more potent in tropical lands, but nowhere is it
-more marvellous than in the steppes, where in its power it stands&mdash;alone&mdash;opposed
-to summer, autumn, and winter.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</span></p>
-
-<p>The steppes are still green when summer steals upon them, but
-already their full splendour has sped. Only a few plants have yet
-to attain their maturity, and they wither in the first days of the
-burning heat; soon the gay garment of spring is exchanged for
-one of gray and yellow. The sappy, green thyrsa-grass still withstands
-the drought; but its fine, flowing, thickly-haired beards
-have already attained their full growth, and wave about in the
-gentlest breeze, casting a silvery veil over the green beneath. A
-few days more, and both leaves and awns are as dry as the already
-yellowed tschi-grass, which appears in spring like sprouting corn,
-and is now like that which awaits the sickle. The broad leaves
-of the rhubarb lie dried on the ground, the spiræa is withered, the
-Caragan pea-tree is leafless, honeysuckle and dwarf-almond show
-autumnal tints; the thistle tops are hoary; only the wormwoods
-and mugworts preserve their gray-green leaves unchanged. Bright
-uninterrupted sunshine beats down upon the thirsty land, for it is
-but rarely that the clouds gather into wool-packs on the sky, and
-even if they are occasionally heavy with rain, the downpour is
-scarce enough to lay the whirling dust which every breath of wind
-raises. The animals still keep to their summer quarters, but the
-songs of the birds are already hushed. Creeping things there are
-in abundance, such as lizards and snakes, mostly vipers; and the
-grasshoppers swarm in countless hosts, forming clouds when they
-take wing over the steppes.</p>
-
-<p>Before the summer has ended, the steppes have put on their
-autumnal garb, a variously shaded gray-yellow, but without variety
-and without charm. All the brittle plants are snapped to the
-ground by the first storm, and the next blast scatters them in a
-whirling dance over the steppes. Grappling one another with their
-branches and twigs, they are rolled together into balls, skipping
-and leaping like spooks before the raging wind, half-hidden in
-clouds of drifting dust with which the dark or snow-laden packs
-in the sky above seem to be running a race. The summer land-birds
-have long since flown southwards; the water-birds, of which
-there are hosts on every lake, are preparing for flight; the migratory
-mammals wend in crowded troops from one promise of food to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</span>
-another; the winter-sleepers have closed the doors of their retreats;
-reptiles and insects have withdrawn into their winter hiding-places.</p>
-
-<p>A single night’s frost covers all the water-basins with thin ice;
-a few more days of cold and the fetters of winter are laid heavily
-on the lakes and pools; and only the rivers and streams, longer able
-to withstand the frost, afford a briefly prolonged shelter to the
-migratory birds which have still delayed their farewell. Gentle
-north-west winds sweep dark clouds across the land, and the snow
-drizzles down in small flakes. The mountains have already thrown
-on their snowy mantles; and now the low ground of the steppes
-puts on its garment of white. The wolf, apprehensive of storms,
-leaves the reed-thickets and the spiræa shrubberies which have
-hitherto served him well as hiding-places, and slinks hungrily
-around the villages and the winter quarters of the nomad herdsman,
-who now seeks out the most sheltered and least exhausted of
-the low grounds, in order to save his herds, as far as may be, from
-the scarcity, hardship, and misery of the winter. Against the
-greedy wolf the herdsman acts on the aggressive, as do the Cossack
-settlers and peasants; he rides out in pursuit, follows the thief’s
-tell-tale track to his lair, drives him out, and gives chase. With
-exultant shouts he spurs on his horse and terrifies the fugitive, all
-the while brandishing in his right hand a strong sapling with
-knobbed roots. The snow whirls around wolf, horse, and rider;
-the keen frost bites the huntsman’s face, but he cares not. After a
-chase of an hour, or at most of two hours, the wolf, which may have
-run a dozen or twenty miles, can go no further, and turns upon its
-pursuer. Its tongue hangs far out from its throat, the ice-tipped
-hairs of its reeking hide stand up stiffly, in its mad eyes is expressed
-the dread of death. Only for a moment does the noble horse hesitate,
-then, urged on by shout and knout, makes a rush at the fell
-enemy. High in the air the hunter swings his fatal club, down
-it whizzes, and the wolf lies gasping and quivering in its death
-agony. Wild horses and antelopes, impelled by hunger, like the
-wolf, shift their quarters at this season, in the endeavour to eke out
-a bare subsistence; even the wild sheep of the mountains wend from<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</span>
-one hillside to another; only the hares and the imperturbable sand-grouse
-hold their ground, the former feeding on stems and bark, the
-latter on seeds and buds, but both finding only a scant subsistence.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f16">
-<img src="images/fig16.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 12.&mdash;A Herd of Horses during a Snowstorm on the Asiatic Steppes.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>For many days in succession the fall of snow continues; then
-the wind, which brought the clouds, dies away, but the sky remains
-as dark as ever. The wind changes and blows harder and harder
-from east, south-east, south, or south-west. A thin cloud sweeps
-over the white ground&mdash;it is formed of whirling snow; the wind
-becomes a tempest; the cloud rises up to heaven: and, maddening,
-bewildering even to the most weather-hardened, dangerous in the
-extreme to all things living, the <i>buran</i> rages across the steppes, a
-snow-hurricane, as terrible as the typhoon or the simoom with its
-poisonous breath. For two or three days such a snow-storm may
-rage with uninterrupted fury, and both man and beast are absolutely
-storm-stayed. A man overtaken in the open country is
-lost, unless some special providence save him; nay, more, even in
-the village or steppe-town, he who ventures out of doors when the
-buran is at its height may perish, as indeed not rarely happens.
-When February is past, man and beast are fairly safe, and may<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</span>
-breathe freely, though the winter still continues to press heavily
-on the steppes.</p>
-
-<p>The sun rises higher in the heavens; its rays fall more warmly
-on the southern slopes of the mountains and hills, and dark patches
-of clear ground appear everywhere, growing larger day by day,
-except when an occasional fresh fall of snow hides them for a little.
-The first breath of spring comes at last, but only slowly can it free
-the land from winter’s shackles. Only when the life-giving sunshine
-is accompanied by the soft south wind, at the earliest in the
-beginning of April, usually about the middle of the month, does the
-snow disappear quickly from the lower slopes of the mountains and
-from the deep valleys rich in black earth. Only in gorges and
-steep-walled hollows, behind precipitous hills, and amid thick bushes,
-do the snow-wreaths linger for almost another month. In all other
-places the newly-awakened life bursts forth in strength. The
-thirsty soil sucks in the moisture which the melting snow supplies,
-and the two magicians&mdash;sun and water&mdash;now unite their irresistible
-powers. Even before the last snow-wreaths have vanished, before
-the rotten ice-blocks have melted on the lakes, the bulbous plants,
-and others which live through the winter, put forth their leaves and
-raise their flower-stalks to the sun. Among the sere yellow grass
-and the dry gray stems of all herbs which were not snapped by the
-autumnal storm, the first green shimmers. It is at this time that the
-settlers and the nomads set fire to the thick herbage of various sorts,
-and what the storms have spared the flames devour. But soon after
-the fire has cleared the ground, the plant-life reappears, in patches
-at least, in all its vigour. From the apparently sterile earth
-herbaceous and bulbous growths shoot up; buds are unpacked,
-flowers unfold, and the steppe arrays itself in indescribable splendour.
-Boundless tracts are resplendent with tulips, yellow, dark
-red, white, white and red. It is true that they rise singly or in
-twos and threes, but they are spread over the whole steppe-land,
-and flower at the same time, so that one sees them everywhere.
-Immediately after the tulips come the lilies, and new, even more
-charming colours appear wherever these lovely children of the
-steppes find the fit conditions for growth, on the hillsides and in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</span>
-the deep valleys, along the banks of all the streams, and in the
-marshes. More gregarious and richer in species than the tulips,
-they appear in much more impressive multitudes; they completely
-dominate wide stretches of country, and in different places remind
-one of a rye-field overgrown with corn-flowers, or of a rape-field in
-full blossom. Usually each species or variety is by itself, but here
-and there blue lilies and yellow are gaily intermingled, the two
-complementary colours producing a most impressive effect&mdash;a vision
-for rapture.</p>
-
-<p>While these first-born children of the spring are adorning the
-earth, the heavens also begin to smile. Unclouded the spring sky
-certainly is not, rather it is covered with clouds of all sorts, even in
-the finest weather with bedded clouds and wool-packs, which stretch
-more or less thickly over the whole dome of heaven, and around the
-horizon appear to touch the ground. When these clouds thicken the
-heavens darken, and only here and there does the sunlight pierce
-the curtain and show the steppes warmed by the first breath of
-spring, and flushed with inconceivable wealth of colour.</p>
-
-<p>But every day adds some new tint. There is less and less of
-the yellowish tone which last year’s withered stalks give even in
-spring to the steppes; the garment already so bright continues to
-gain in freshness and brightness. After a few weeks, the steppe-land
-lies like a gay carpet in which all tints show distinctly, from
-dark green to bright yellow-green, the predominant gray-green of
-the wormwoods being relieved by the deeper and brighter tones of
-more prominent herbs and dwarf-shrubs. The dwarf-almond, which,
-alone or in association with the pea-tree and the honeysuckle, covers
-broad stretches of low ground, is now, along with its above-mentioned
-associates, in all its glory. Its twigs are literally covered all over
-with blossom; the whole effect is a shimmer of peach-red, in lively
-contrast to the green of the grass and herbage, to the bloom of the
-pea-trees, and even to the delicate rose-red or reddish-white of the
-woodbine. In suitable places the woodbine forms quite a thicket,
-and, when in full bloom, seems to make of all surrounding colour
-but a groundwork on which to display its own brilliancy. Various,
-and to me unknown, shrubs and herbs give high and low tones to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</span>
-the picture, and the leaves of others, which wither as rapidly as
-they unfold, become spots of yellow-green and gold. Seen from a
-distance, all the colours do indeed merge into an almost uniform
-gray-green; but near at hand each colour tells, and one sees the
-countless individual flowers which have now opened, sees them
-singly everywhere, but also massed together in more favourable
-spots, where they make the shades of the bushes glorious. Amid
-the infinite variety of bulbous plants there are exquisite vetches;
-among many that are unfamiliar there are old friends well known
-in our flower-gardens; more and more does the feeling of enchantment
-grow on one, until at last it seems as if one had wandered
-into an unending, uncared-for garden of flowers.</p>
-
-<p>With the spring and the flowers the animal life of the steppes
-appears also to awaken. Even before the last traces of winter are
-gone, the migratory birds, which fled in autumn, have returned, and
-when the spring has begun in earnest the winter sleepers open the
-doors of the burrows within which they have slumbered in death-like
-trance through all the evil days. As the migratory birds rejoin
-the residents, so the sleepers come forth and join those mammals
-which are either careless of winter or know how to survive it at least
-awake. At the same time the insects celebrate their Easter, hastening
-from their hidden shelters or accomplishing the last phase of
-their metamorphosis; and now, too, the newts and frogs, lizards and
-snakes leave their winter quarters to enjoy in the spring sunshine
-the warmth indispensable to their activity and full life, and to
-dream of the summer which will bring them an apathetic happiness.</p>
-
-<p>The steppe now becomes full of life. Not that the animal life
-is of many types, but it is abundant and everywhere distributed.
-The same forms are met with everywhere, and missed nowhere.
-There are here no hosts of mammals comparable to the herds of
-antelopes on the steppes of Central Africa, nor to the troops of
-zebras and quaggas<a id="FNanchor_18" href="#Footnote_18" class="fnanchor">[17]</a> in the South African karoo, nor to the immeasurable
-trains of buffaloes on the North American prairies;<a id="FNanchor_19" href="#Footnote_19" class="fnanchor">[18]</a> nor are
-the birds of the steppes so numerous as those on the continental
-shores or on single islands, or on the African steppes, or in equatorial
-forests. But both birds and mammals enter into the composition of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</span>
-a steppe landscape; they help to form and complete the peculiarity
-of this region; in short, the steppes also have their characteristic
-fauna.</p>
-
-<p>The places at which the animals chiefly congregate are the lakes
-and pools, rivers and brooks. Before the existence of a lake is
-revealed by the periodically or permanently flooded reed-forests surrounding
-it, hundreds and thousands of marsh-birds and swimmers
-have told the practised observer of the still invisible sheet of water.
-In manifoldly varied flight, fishing-gulls, common gulls, and herring-gulls
-sweep and glide over its surface; more rapidly and less steadily
-do the terns pursue the chase over the reeds and the pools which
-these inclose; in mid-air the screaming eagles circle; ducks, geese,
-and swans fly from one part of the lake to another; kites hover over
-the reeds; even sea-eagles and pelicans now and then show face.
-As to the actual inhabitants of these lakes, as to the number of
-species and individuals, one can only surmise until one has stationed
-oneself on the banks, or penetrated into the thicket of reeds. In
-the salt-steppe, as is readily intelligible, the animal life is sparser.
-With hasty flight most of the water-birds pass over the inhospitable,
-salt-covered shores, as they wend from lake to lake; only the black-headed
-gulls and fishing-gulls are willing to rest for a time by the
-not wholly dry, but shallow, briny basins; only the sheldrake fishes
-there in company with the charming avocet, who seeks out just
-these very places, and, living in pairs or small companies, spends
-his days stirring up the salt water, swinging his delicate head with
-upturned bill from side to side indefatigably. Of other birds I only
-saw a few, a yellow or white wagtail, a lapwing, a plover; the rest
-seem to avoid the uninviting desolateness of these brine pools,
-all the more that infinitely more promising swamps and pools are
-to be found quite near them. About the lake itself abundant food
-seems to be promised to all comers. Thus not only do thousands of
-marsh and water birds settle on its surface, but even the little
-songsters and passerine birds, unprovided for by the dry steppes,
-come hither. Not the fishers alone, but other hungry birds of prey
-find here their daily bread. The steppe-lakes cannot indeed be
-compared with those of North Africa, where, during winter, the
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</span>feathered tribes of three-quarters of the globe have their great
-rendezvous, nor with the equatorial water-basins, which are thronged
-by hundreds of thousands of birds at every season, nor even with
-the marsh-lands of the Danube, where, all through the summer,
-countless children of the air find rest; in proportion to the extent
-of water in the steppes the number of winged settlers may seem
-small, but the bird-fauna is really very considerable, and the lakes
-of the steppes have also a certain uniqueness in regard to the nesting-places
-chosen by the birds.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f17">
-<a href="images/fig17big.jpg">
-<img src="images/fig17.jpg" alt="" />
-</a>
-<p class="caption">Fig. 13.&mdash;Lake Scene and Water-fowl in an Asiatic Steppe.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Here every creature has its home among the reeds: the wolf and
-the boar, the eagle and the wild-goose, the kite and the swan, the
-raven and the mallard, the gadwall or teal, the thrush and the
-white-throat, the reed-tit and the sparrow, the reed-bunting and
-the ortolan, the willow wren and the blue-throated warbler, the
-lesser kestrel and the red-footed falcon, the crane and the lapwing,
-the shrike and the snipe, the starling, the yellow and white wagtails,
-the quail and the kingfisher, the great white heron and the spoonbill,
-the cormorant and the pelican. The reed-thickets afford home
-and shelter to all; they take the place of woods in affording hiding
-and security; in their retreats the secrets of love are told, and the
-joys of family life are expressed, exuberant rejoicings are uttered,
-and the tenderest cares are fulfilled; they are the cradles and the
-schools of the young.</p>
-
-<p>Of the mammals which congregate among the reeds one usually
-sees only the tracks, provided, of course, that one does not resort to
-forceful measures and ransack the thicket with dogs. Of the flitting
-bird-life, however, in its general features at least, the practised eye
-of the naturalist may at any time obtain a lively picture.</p>
-
-<p>When we leave the dry steppes and approach a lake, the
-widely-distributed larks disappear, and their place is taken by the
-plovers, whose plaintive cries fall mournfully on the ear. One of
-them may be seen running by fits and starts along the ground, with
-the characteristic industry of its race, stopping here and there to
-pick up some minute booty, and then running off again as swiftly
-as ever. Before we reach the reeds we see the black-headed gulls,
-probably also the common gulls, and, in favourable circumstances,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</span>
-even a great black-backed gull. The first fly far into the steppes
-to seek out the grazing herds, and are equally decorative whether
-they sweep gracefully over and around them in thick crowds,
-catching in their flight the insects which the grazing beasts have
-disturbed, or whether they run behind the herd like white pigeons
-seeking their food in the fields. Near the reeds we also see one or
-other of the wild-geese&mdash;a male who for a short time has left his
-mate sitting upon the eggs, to graze, while it is still possible, on the
-grassy patches near the reed-thicket. Soon, however, parental cares,
-in which all ganders share, will recall him to the recesses of the
-willows close by the lake, to the nook where the careful parents
-have their gray-greenish-yellow goslings well hidden. Over all the
-flooded shallows there is a more active life. On the margins of the
-pools small littoral birds have their well-chosen fighting-grounds.
-Fighting-ruffs,<a id="FNanchor_20" href="#Footnote_20" class="fnanchor">[19]</a> now arrayed in their gayest dress, meet there in
-combat; with depressed head each directs his beak like a couched
-lance against the bright neck-collar which serves his foe for shield.
-The combatants stand in most defiant attitudes, irresistibly amusing
-to us; for a moment they look at one another with their sharp eyes
-and then make a rush, each making a thrust, and at the same time
-receiving one on his feathery shield. But none of the heroes is in
-any way injured, and none allows the duelling to interfere with
-less exciting business; for if, during the onslaught, one see a fly just
-settling on a stem, he does not allow it to escape him, and his opponent
-is equally attentive to the swimming beetle darting about
-on the surface of a small pool; hastily they run, one here and
-the other there, seize the booty which they spied, and return refreshed
-to the fray. Meantime, however, other combatants have
-taken the field, and the fight seems as if it would never have an end.
-But suddenly a marsh-harrier comes swooping along, and the heroes
-hastily quit the field; they rise together in close-packed flight, and
-hurry to another pond, there to repeat the same old game. The
-dreaded harrier is the terror of all the other birds of the lake. At
-his approach the weaker ducks rise noisily, and, a moment later,
-their stronger relatives, more disturbed by the ducks than by the
-bird of prey, rise impetuously, and with whizzing beating of wings,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</span>
-circle several times over the lake and sink again in detachments.
-With trilling call the redshanks also rise, and with them the snipe,
-whose cry, though tuneless, is audible from afar. The robber sweeps
-past all too near, but both redshank and snipe forget his menace
-as soon as they reach a safe height; they seem to feel only the
-golden spring-tide and the joy of love which now dominates them.
-For the redshank sinks suddenly to the water far beneath, flutters,
-and hovers with his wings hanging downwards and forwards, rises
-again with insistent calls and sinks once more, until a response from
-his mate near by invites him to cease from his love-play and to
-hasten to her. So is it also with the snipe, who, after he has ended
-his zigzag flight, and ascended to twice the height of a tower, lets
-himself fall suddenly. In the precipitous descent he broadens out
-his tail, and opposes the flexible, narrow, pointed lateral feathers to
-the resisting air, thus giving rise to that bleating noise to which he
-owes his quaint name of sky-goat.<a id="FNanchor_21" href="#Footnote_21" class="fnanchor">[20]</a> Only a pair of the exceedingly
-long-legged black-winged stilts, which were pursuing their business
-in apparently aristocratic isolation from the throng, have remained
-undisturbed by the marsh-harrier; perhaps they saw the bold black-headed
-gulls hastening to drive off the disturber of the peace.
-Moreover, a Montagu’s harrier and a steppe-harrier have united
-their strength against the marsh-harrier, whom they hate with a
-bitterness proportionate to his near relationship. Without hesitation
-the robber makes for the open country, and next minute there
-is the wonted whistling and warbling, scolding and cackling over
-the water. Already there is a fresh arrival of visitors, drawn by
-that curiosity common to all social birds, and also, of course, by
-the rich table which these lakes afford.</p>
-
-<p>When at length we reach the thicket of reeds the smaller birds
-become more conspicuous, the larger forms being more effectively
-concealed. The crane, which breeds on the most inaccessible spots,
-the great white heron, which fishes on the inner margin of the
-thicket, the spoonbill, which forages for food on the shallowest
-stretches among the reeds, all these keep themselves as far as
-possible in concealment, and of the presence of the bittern in the
-very heart of the reeds we are aware only by his muffled booming.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</span>
-On the other hand, all the small birds to which I have referred
-expose themselves to view almost without any wariness, singing
-and exulting in their loudest notes. The yellow wagtails run about
-confidently on the meadow-like plots of grass around the outer
-margin of the thicket; that marvel of prettiness, the bearded titmouse,
-climbs fearlessly up and down on the reeds, whose tops are
-graced here by a redbreast and there by a gray shrike. From all
-sides the cheerful, though but slightly melodious song of the sedge-warblers
-strikes the ear, and we listen with pleasure to the lay of
-the black-throated thrush, to the lovely singing of the blue-throat,
-the wood-wren, and the icterine warbler, and to the call of the cuckoo.
-On the open pools among the reeds there is sure to be a pair of coots
-swimming with their young brood, and where the water is deeper
-there is perchance an eared grebe among the various kinds of ducks.
-When it draws to evening the red-footed falcon, the lesser kestrel,
-the starlings and the rose-starlings also seek the thicket for the
-night, and of chattering and fussing there is no end. Even the
-spotted eagle, the raven, and the hooded-crow appear as guests
-for the night, and, on the inner margins at least, the cormorant and
-the pelican rest from their fishing.</p>
-
-<p>Finally, over the surface of the lake the gulls fly and hover, the
-terns dart hither and thither, the ernes and ospreys pursue their
-prey, and, where the water is not too deep, the pelicans and swans
-vie in their fishing industry with the greedy cormorants and
-grebes.</p>
-
-<p>The beds of streams fringed with trees and bushes are hardly
-less rich in life. The trees bear the nests of large and small birds
-of prey, and serve also for their perches. From their tops may be
-heard the resonant call of the golden oriole, the song of the thrush,
-the laughter of the woodpecker, and the cooing of the ring-dove
-and stock-dove; while from the thick undergrowth the glorious
-song of the nightingale is poured forth with such clearness and
-power, that even the fastidious ear of the critic listens in rapture to
-the rare music. On the surface of the stream many different kinds
-of water-birds swim about as on the lake; among the bushes on the
-banks there is the same gay company that we saw among the reeds;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</span>
-the lesser white-throat chatters, the white-throat and the barred
-warbler sing their familiar songs.</p>
-
-<p>When we traverse the dry stretches of the steppes we see another
-aspect of animal life. Again it is the bird-life which first
-claims attention. At least six, and perhaps eight species of larks
-inhabit the steppes, and give life to even the dreariest regions.
-Uninterruptedly does their song fall on the traveller’s ear; from
-the ground and from the tops of the small bushes it rises; from
-morning to evening the rich melody is poured forth from the sky.
-It seems to be only one song which one hears, for the polyphonous
-calandra lark takes the strophes of our sky-lark and of the white-winged
-lark and combines them with its own, nor despises certain
-notes of the black lark, the red lark, and the short-toed lark, but
-blends all the single songs with its own, yet without drowning the
-song of its relatives, no matter how loudly it may pour forth its
-own and its borrowed melodies. When, in spring, we listen enraptured
-to our own sky-larks in the meadows, and note how one sweet
-singer starts up after another in untiring sequence, heralding the
-spring with inspired and inspiring song, we hardly fancy that all
-that we can hear at home is surpassed a hundredfold on the steppes.
-Yet so it is, for here is the true home of the larks; one pair close
-beside another, one species and then another, or different kinds living
-together, and in such numbers that the broad steppes seem to have
-scarce room enough to hold them all. But the larks are not the
-only inhabitants of these regions. For proportionately numerous
-are the lark’s worst enemies, full of menace to the dearly loved
-young brood&mdash;the harriers, characteristic birds of the steppes.
-Whatever region we visit we are sure to see one or another of
-these birds of prey, in the north Montagu’s harrier, in the south
-the steppe-harrier, hurrying over his province, sweeping along near
-the ground in wavy, vacillating flight. Not unfrequently, over a
-broad hollow, four, six, eight or more may be seen at once absorbed
-in the chase. Even more abundant, but not quite so widely distributed,
-are two other children of the steppes, almost identical in
-nature and habits, and vieing with one another in beauty, grace of
-form, and vigour of movement,&mdash;the lesser kestrel and the red-footed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</span>
-falcon. Wherever there is a perching-place for these charming
-creatures, where a telegraph-line traverses the country, or where
-a rocky hillock rises from the plain, there they are sure to be seen.
-As good-natured as they are gregarious, unenvious of each other’s
-gain, though they pursue the same booty, these falcons wage indefatigable
-war against insects of all sorts, from the voracious grasshopper
-to the small beetle. There they sit, resting and digesting,
-yet keeping a sharp look-out meanwhile; as soon as they spy booty
-they rise, and after an easy and dexterous flight begin to glide,
-then, stopping, they hover, with scarce perceptible vibrations, right
-over one spot, until, from the height, they are able to fasten their
-eyes surely on their prey. This done, they precipitate themselves
-like a falling stone, seize, if they are fortunate, the luckless insect,
-tear it and devour it as they fly, and, again swinging themselves
-aloft, proceed as before. Not unfrequently ten or twelve of both
-species may be seen hunting over the same spot, and their animated
-behaviour cannot fail to attract and fascinate the observer’s gaze.
-Every day and all day one comes across them, for hours at a time
-one may watch them, and always there is a fresh charm in studying
-their play; they are as characteristic parts of the steppe picture as
-the salt lake, the tulip or the lily, as the dwarf shrub, the tschi-grass,
-or the white wool-packs in the heavens. Characteristic also
-is the rose-starling, beautifully coloured representative of the familiar
-frequenter of our houses and gardens. He is the eager and successful
-enemy of the greedy grasshopper, the truest friend of the grazing
-herds, the untiring guardian of the crops and thus man’s sworn ally,
-an almost sacred bird in the eyes of those who inhabit the steppes.
-Notable also is the sand-grouse, a connecting link between fowl and
-pigeon,<a id="FNanchor_22" href="#Footnote_22" class="fnanchor">[21]</a> which, with other members of its family, is especially at
-home in the desert. Not less noteworthy are the great bustard, its
-handsomer relative the ruffed bustard, and the little bustard. The
-last-named is of special interest to us, because a few years ago it
-wandered into Germany as far as Thuringia, where it now, as in
-the steppe, adds a unique charm to the landscape as it discloses its
-full beauty in whizzing flight. Other beautifully coloured, and
-indeed really splendid birds inhabit the steppes&mdash;the lovely bee-eater
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</span>and roller, which live on the steep banks of the streams along
-with falcons and pigeons, the bunting and the scarlet bullfinch,
-which shelter among the tschi-grass and herbage, and many others.
-Even the swallows are not absent from this region in which stable
-human dwellings are so rare. That the sand-martin should make
-its burrows in all the steeper banks of the lakes will not seem
-strange to the ornithologist, but it is worthy of note that the swallow
-and martins are still in process of transition from free-living to
-semi-domesticated birds, that they still fix their nests to the cliffs,
-but leave these to establish themselves wherever the Kirghiz rear a
-tomb, and that the martins seek hospitality even in the tent or
-<i>yurt</i>.<a id="FNanchor_23" href="#Footnote_23" class="fnanchor">[22]</a> They find it, too, when the Kirghiz is able to settle long
-enough to allow the eggs to hatch and the young to become fledged,
-in a nest fixed to the cupola ring of his hut.</p>
-
-<p>But in these regions, whose bird-life I have been describing, there
-are other animals. Apart from the troublesome mosquitoes, flies,
-gadflies, wasps, and other such pests, there are only a few species
-of insects, but most of these are very numerous and are distributed
-over the whole of the wide area. The same is true of the reptiles;
-thus in the region which we traversed we found only a few species
-of lizards and snakes. Among the latter we noted especially two
-venomous species, our common viper and the halys-viper; neither
-indeed occurred in multitudes like the lizards, but both were none
-the less remarkably abundant. Several times every day as we rode
-through the steppe would one and the other of the Kirghiz who
-accompanied us bend from his horse with drawn knife, and slash
-the head off one of these snakes. I remember, too, that, at a little
-hill-town in the northern Altai, a place called “Schlangenberg” [or
-Snakemount], we wished to know whether the place had a good
-right to its name, and that the answer was almost embarrassingly
-convincing, so abundant was the booty with which those whom
-we had sent in quest soon returned. We had no longer any reason
-to doubt the truth of the tale according to which the place owed
-its name to the fact that, before the town was founded, the people
-collected thousands and thousands of venomous snakes and burned
-them. Amphibians and small mammals seem much rarer than<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</span>
-reptiles; of the former we saw only a species of toad, and of the
-latter, several mice, a souslik, two blind mole-rats, and the dainty
-jerboa, popularly known as the jumping-mouse.</p>
-
-<div class="figleft" id="f18">
-<img src="images/fig18.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 14.&mdash;The Souslik (<i>Spermophilus citillus</i>).<br />
-(⅓ natural size.)</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figright" id="f19">
-<img src="images/fig19.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 15.&mdash;The Jerboa (<i>Alactaga jaculus</i>).<br />
-(⅓ natural size.)</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>The sousliks and the jerboas are most charming creatures. The
-former especially are often characteristic features of steppe-life, for
-in favourable places they readily become gregarious, and, like the
-related marmots, form important settlements. It is usually towards
-evening that one sees them, each sitting at the door of his burrow.
-On the approach of the waggon or train of riders they hastily beat a
-retreat, inquisitively they raise their heads once more, and then, at
-the proper moment, they vanish like a flash into their burrows, only
-to reappear, however, a few minutes later, peering out cautiously
-as if to see whether the threatened danger had passed safely by.
-Their behaviour expresses a continual wavering between curiosity
-and timidity, and the latter is fully justified, since, apart from man,
-there are always wolves and foxes, imperial eagles and spotted
-eagles, on their track. Indeed one may be sure that the sousliks
-are abundant when one sees an imperial eagle perching on the
-posts by the wayside or on the trees by a village. The jerboa&mdash;by
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</span>far the prettiest of the steppe-mammals&mdash;is much less frequently
-seen, not indeed because he occurs less frequently, but
-because, as a nocturnal animal, he only shows himself after sunset.
-About this time, or later if the moon be favourable, one may see
-the charming creature steal cautiously from his hole. He stretches
-himself, and then, with his pigmy fore-limbs pressed close to his
-breast, trots off on his kangaroo-like hind-legs, going as if on stilts,
-balancing his slim erect body by help of his long hair-fringed tail.
-Jerkily and not very rapidly the jerboa jumps along the ground,
-resting here and there for a little, sniffing at things and touching
-them with its long whisker-hairs, as he seeks for suitable food.
-Here he picks out a grain of seed, and there he digs out a bulb;
-they say of him also that he will not disdain carrion, that he will
-plunder a bird’s nest, steal the eggs and young of those which nest
-on the ground, and even hunt smaller rodents, from all which
-accusations I cannot venture to vindicate him. Precise and detailed
-observation of his natural life is difficult, for, his senses
-being keen and his intelligence slight, timidity and shyness are
-his most prominent qualities. As soon as man appears in what
-seems dangerous proximity, the creature takes to flight, and it is
-useless to try to follow; even on horseback one could scarce overtake
-him. With great bounds he hurries on, jerking out his long
-hind-legs, with his long tail stretched out as a rudder; bound after
-bound he goes, and, before one has rightly seen how he began or
-whither he went, he has disappeared in the darkness.<a id="FNanchor_24" href="#Footnote_24" class="fnanchor">[23]</a></p>
-
-<p>The fauna of the steppe-mountains differs from that of the low-grounds,
-differs at least, when, instead of gentle slopes or precipitous
-rocky walls, there are debris-covered hillsides, wild deeply-cut
-gorges, and rugged plantless summits. In the narrow, green valleys,
-through which a brook flows or trickles, the sheldrake feeds&mdash;an
-exceedingly graceful, beautiful, lively bird, scarce larger than a
-duck&mdash;the characteristic duck of the central Asiatic mountains.
-From the niches of the rocks is heard the cooing of a near relative
-of the rock-dove, which is well known to be ancestor of our
-domestic pigeons; from the rough blocks on which the wheatear,
-the rock-bunting, and the rock-grosbeak flit busily, the melodious<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</span>
-song of the rock-thrush streams forth. Around the peaks the
-cheerful choughs flutter; above them the golden-eagle circles by
-day, and the horned owl flies silently as a ghost by night, both bent
-on catching one of the exceedingly abundant rock ptarmigan, or, it
-may be, a careless marmot. More noteworthy, however, is the
-<i>Archar</i> of the Kirghiz, one of the giant wild sheep of Central Asia,
-the same animal that I had the good fortune to shoot on the Arkat
-mountains.</p>
-
-<p>According to the reports which I gathered after careful cross-examination
-of the Kirghiz, the archar occurs not only here, but
-also on other not very lofty ranges of the western Siberian steppes.
-They are said to go in small troops of five to fifteen head, rams
-and ewes living in separate companies until the breeding season.
-Each troop keeps its own ground unless it be startled or disturbed;
-in which case it hastens from one range to another, yet never
-very far. Towards sunset the herd ascends, under the guidance of
-the leader, to the highest peaks, there to sleep in places scarce accessible
-to other creatures; at sunrise, both old and young descend to the
-valleys to graze and to drink at chosen springs; at noon, they lie
-down to rest and ruminate in the shade of the rocks, in places
-which admit of open outlook; towards evening they descend again
-to graze. Such is their daily routine both in summer and winter.
-They eat such plants as domesticated sheep are fond of, and they
-are, when needs must, easily satisfied; but even in winter they
-rarely suffer from want, and in spring they become so vigorous
-that from that season until autumn they are fastidious, and will
-eat only the most palatable herbs. Their usual mode of motion is
-a rapid, exceedingly expeditious trot; and even when frightened
-they do not quicken their steps very markedly unless a horseman
-pursue them. Then they always take to the rocks and soon make
-their escape. When in flight either on the plain or on the mountains
-they almost always keep in line, one running close behind
-another, and, if suddenly surprised and scattered, they re-form in
-linear order as speedily as possible. Among the rocks they move,
-whether going upwards or downwards, with surprising ease, agility,
-and confidence. Without any apparent strain, without any trace of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</span>
-hurry, they clamber up and down almost vertical paths, leap wide
-chasms, and pass from the heights to the valley almost as if they
-were birds and could fly. When they find themselves pursued, they
-stand still from time to time, clamber to a loftier peak to secure a
-wider prospect, and then go on their way so calmly that it seems
-as if they mocked their pursuer. Consciousness of their strength
-and climbing powers seems to give them a proud composure. They
-never hurry, and have no cause to regret their deliberation except
-when they come within shot of the lurking ambuscade or the
-stealthy stalker.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f20">
-<img src="images/fig20.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 16.&mdash;Archar Sheep or Argali (<i>Ovis Argali</i>).</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>The sheep live at peace together throughout the year, and the
-rams only fight towards the breeding season. This occurs in the
-second half of October and lasts for almost a month. At this time
-the high-spirited, combative rams become greatly excited. The
-seniors make a stand and drive off all their weaker fellows. With
-their equals they fight for life or death. The rivals stand opposed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</span>
-in menacing attitudes; rearing on their hind-legs they rush at one
-another, and the crash of powerful horns is echoed in a dull rumble
-among the rocks. Sometimes it happens that they entangle one
-another, for the horns may interlock inseparably, and both perish
-miserably; or one ram may hurl the other over a precipice, where
-he is surely dashed to pieces.</p>
-
-<p>During the last days of April or the first of May the ewe brings
-forth a single lamb or a pair. These lambs, as we found out from
-captive ones, are able in a few hours to run with their mother, and
-in a few days they follow her over all the paths, wherever she leads
-them, with the innate agility and surefootedness characteristic of
-their race. When serious danger threatens, the mother hides them
-in the nooks of the rocks, where the enemy may perchance overlook
-their presence. She returns, of course, after she has successfully
-eluded the foe. The lambkin, pressed close to the ground, lies as
-still as a mouse, and, looking almost like a stone, may often escape
-detection; but not by any means always is he safe, least of all from
-the golden eagle, which often seizes and kills a lamb which the
-mother has left unprotected. So we observed when hunting on the
-Arkat Mountains. Captive archar lambs which we got from the
-Kirghiz were most delightful creatures, and showed by the ready
-way in which they took to the udders of their foster-mothers that
-they might have been reared without special difficulty. Should it
-prove possible to bring the proud creatures into domestication the
-acquisition would be one of the greatest value. But of this the
-Kirghiz does not dream, he thinks only of how he may shoot this
-wild sheep or the other. Not that the chase of this powerful
-animal is what one could call a passion with him; indeed the sheep’s
-most formidable enemy is the wolf, and it is only in the deep snow
-in winter that even he manages to catch an archar.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f21">
-<img src="images/fig21.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 17.&mdash;Pallas’s Sand-grouse (<i>Syrrhaptes paradoxus</i>).</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>As on the mountains, so on the driest, dreariest stretches of the
-steppes, which even in spring suggest African deserts, there are
-characteristic animals. In such places almost all the plants of the
-highlands and valleys disappear except the low tufted grass and
-diminutive bushes of wormwood. Here, however, grows a remarkable
-shrub which one does not see elsewhere, a shrub called <i>ramwood</i>
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</span>on account of its extreme hardness and toughness, which baffles
-the axe. It roots on those rare spots in the wilderness where the
-rain-storms have washed together some poor red clay. There it
-sometimes grows into bushwork of considerable extent, affording
-shelter and shade to other plants, so that these green spots come to
-look like little oases in the desert. But these oases are no more
-lively than the dreary steppes around, for apart from a shrike, the
-white-throat, and a wood-wren, one sees no bird, and still less any
-mammal. On the other hand, amid the desolation there live some
-of the most notable of the steppe animals, along with others which
-occur everywhere; besides the short-toed lark and calandra lark
-there is the coal-black Tartar lark, which those aware of the general
-colour-resemblance between ground-birds and the ground would
-naturally look for on the black earth. Along with the small plover
-there is the gregarious lapwing, along with the great bustard the
-slender ruffed bustard, which the Kirghiz call the ambler, along with
-the sand-grouse there is Pallas’s sand-grouse or steppe-grouse.<a id="FNanchor_25" href="#Footnote_25" class="fnanchor">[24]</a> It
-was this last bird which some years ago migrated in large numbers
-into Germany and settled on the dunes and sandy places, but
-was so inhospitably received by us, so ruthlessly persecuted with
-guns, snares, and even poison, that it forsook our inhuman country
-and probably returned to its home. Here, too, along with the
-specially abundant souslik, there are steppe antelopes and the <i>Kulan</i>,
-the fleet wild horse of the steppes. I must restrict myself to giving
-a brief sketch of the last, so as not to overstep too far the limits of
-the time allowed me.</p>
-
-<p>If Darwin’s general conclusions be reliable, we may perhaps
-regard the kulan as the ancestor of our horse, which has been
-gradually improved by thousands of years of breeding and selection.
-This supposition is more satisfactory than the vague and
-unsupported assertion that the ancestor of our noblest domestic
-animal has been lost, and to me it is more credible than the
-opinion which finds in the Tarpan which roams to-day over the
-Dnieper steppes an original wild horse, and not merely one that has
-reverted to wildness.<a id="FNanchor_26" href="#Footnote_26" class="fnanchor">[25]</a> As recent investigations in regard to our
-dogs, whose various breeds we cannot compute with even approximate<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</span>
-accuracy, point to their origin from still existing species of
-wolf and jackal, my conclusion in regard to the horse acquires collateral
-corroboration. Moreover, the ancestor of our domestic cat,
-now at last recognized, still lives in Africa, and the ancestor of our
-goat in Asia Minor and in Crete.<a id="FNanchor_27" href="#Footnote_27" class="fnanchor">[26]</a> As to the pedigree of our sheep
-and cattle we cannot yet decide with certainty, but I have consistent
-information from three different quarters, including the report
-of a Kirghiz who declared that he had himself hunted the animal,
-to the effect that in the heart of the steppes of Mongolia there still
-lives a camel with all the characteristics of wildness.<a id="FNanchor_28" href="#Footnote_28" class="fnanchor">[27]</a> I cannot
-doubt the truth of the reports which I received, and the only question
-is, whether this camel represents the original stock still living
-in a wild state, or whether, like the tarpan, it be only an offshoot of
-the domesticated race which has returned to wild life. As the veil
-is slowly being lifted which hid, and still hides, the full truth from
-our inquiring eyes, as the ancestors of our domesticated animals are
-being discovered one after the other, and that among species still
-living, why should we suppose that the ancestor of the horse, the
-conditions of whose life correspond so thoroughly with those of the
-broad measureless steppes, has died out without leaving a trace?
-It is, I maintain, among the still living wild horses of the Old
-World that we must look for the progenitor of our horse, and among
-these none has more claims to the honour of being regarded as the
-ancestor of this noble creature than the kulan. It may be that the
-tarpan more closely resembles our horse, but, if it be true that the
-Hyksos brought the horse to the ancient Egyptians (from whose stone
-records we have our first knowledge of the domesticated animal), or
-that the Egyptians themselves tamed the horse before the time of the
-Hyksos, and therefore at least one and a half thousand years before
-our era, then certainly the race had not its origin in the steppes of
-the Dnieper and the Don. For nearer at hand, namely in the
-steppes and deserts of Asia Minor, Palestine, and Persia, and in
-several valleys of Arabia and India, they had a wild horse full of
-promise, one which still lives, our kulan. This differs indeed
-in several features from our horse, but not more than the greyhound,
-the poodle, or the Newfoundland differs from the wolf<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</span>
-or any other wild dog, not more than the dachshund, the terrier,
-or the spaniel from the jackal, not more than the pony from
-the Arabian horse, or the Belgian-French cart-horse from the English
-racer. The differences between our domesticated horse and the
-wild form which seems to me its most probable ancestor are indeed
-important, but horse and kulan seem to regard themselves as belonging
-to the same blood, since they seek each other’s company.</p>
-
-<p>When, on the 3rd June, 1876, we were riding through the dreary
-desert steppes between the Saisan lake and the Altai&mdash;a region
-from which I have drawn the main features of the above sketch&mdash;we
-saw in the course of the forenoon no fewer than fifteen kulans.
-Among these we observed one pair in particular. They stood on
-the broad crest of a near hillock, their forms sharply defined against
-the blue sky, and powerfully did they raise the desire for the chase
-in us and in our companion Kirghiz. One of them made off as we
-appeared, and trotted towards the mountain; the other stood quietly,
-and seemed as if considering a dilemma, then raised its head once and
-again, and at last came running towards us. All guns were at once
-in hand; the Kirghiz slowly and carefully formed a wide semicircle
-with the intention of driving the strangely stupid and inconceivably
-careless creature towards us. Nearer and nearer, halting now and
-then, but still steadily nearer he came, and we already looked upon
-him as a sure captive. But a smile broke over the face of the Kirghiz
-riding beside me; he had not only discovered the motive of the creature’s
-apparently foolish behaviour, he had recognized the animal
-itself. It was a Kirghiz horse, dappled like a kulan, which, having
-strayed from his master’s herd, had fallen in with wild horses, and, for
-lack of better company, had stayed with them. In our horses he had
-recognized his kin, and had therefore forsaken his friends in need.
-Having come quite near to the Kirghiz, he stopped again as if to
-reflect whether he should once more yield his newly-healed back to
-the galling saddle; but the first steps towards return were followed
-by others, and without an attempt at flight he allowed them to
-halter him, and in a few minutes he was trotting as docilely by the
-side of one of the horsemen as if he had never known the free life
-of his ancestors. Thus we were able to confirm by personal experience<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</span>
-the already accepted fact, that horse and kulan do sometimes
-keep company.</p>
-
-<p>The kulan is a proud, fascinating creature, full of dignity,
-strength, and high spirits. He stares curiously at the horseman
-who approaches him; and then, as if deriding the pursuer, trots off
-leisurely, playfully lashing his flanks with his tail. If the rider
-spurs his horse to full speed, the kulan takes to a gallop as easy as
-it is swift, which bears him like the wind over the steppes and soon
-carries him out of sight. But even when at full speed he now and
-again suddenly pulls himself up, halts for a moment, jerks round
-with his face to the pursuer, neighs, and then, turning, kicks his
-heels defiantly in the air, and bounds off with the same ease as
-before. A fugitive troop always orders itself in line, and it is
-beautiful to see them suddenly halt at a signal from the leader,
-face round, and again take to flight.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f22">
-<img src="images/fig22.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 18.&mdash;The Kulan (<i>Equus hemionus</i>).</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>As among all horses, each troop of kulans has a stallion for
-leader, and he is the absolute master of them all. He leads the
-troop to pasture as well as in flight, he turns boldly on carnivores<span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</span>
-which are not superior in force, he permits no quarrelling among
-his followers, and tolerates no rival, indeed no other adult male in
-the herd. In every district which the kulans frequent, solitary
-individuals are to be seen unaccompanied by any troop; they are
-stallions which have been vanquished and driven off after furious
-and protracted combats, and which must roam about alone until
-the next breeding season. In September they again approach the
-herds, from which the old stallion now drives off the newly-matured
-stallions, and a fierce battle begins when they catch sight of an
-opponent. For hours at this season they stand on the crests of
-steep ridges, with widely-open nostrils raised to the wind, with
-their eyes on the valley before them. As soon as the banished
-one sees another stallion, he rushes down at full gallop, and fights
-to exhaustion with both teeth and hoofs. Should he conquer the
-leader of a herd, he enters upon his rights, and the mares follow
-him as they did his predecessor. After the battles are over
-comes the time of wandering, for the hard winter drives the herds
-from one place to another, and it is only when spring has fully
-come that they return to their old quarters. Here, in the end of
-May or in the beginning of June the mare brings forth her foal,
-which in every respect resembles that of the domestic horse&mdash;a
-somewhat awkward-looking, but very nimble and lively creature.
-We had the good fortune to be able to make its acquaintance.</p>
-
-<p>On climbing one of the elongated hillocks of these desert-steppes,
-we suddenly saw at a short distance three old kulans and
-a foal, which seemed to be only a few days old. Our Russian companion
-fired a shot, and away rushed the wild horses, with their
-hoofs scarce touching the ground, yet exerting their incomparable
-agility almost with the ease of play, and obviously keeping themselves
-in check for the sake of the foal. Down rushed all the
-Kirghiz and Cossacks of our company; our attendants, carried away
-with the general excitement, also gave chase; and down we also
-rushed. It was a wild chase. Still playing with their strength,
-the wild horses made for the distant mountains, while all the riders
-urged on their steeds to their utmost, till their bellies seemed almost
-to touch the ground. The desert resounded with the jubilant<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</span>
-cries of the Kirghiz, the thundering of their horses at full gallop,
-the neighing of our slower horses which gnashed at their bridles;
-fluttering cloaks and kaftans and whirling clouds of dust filled and
-enlivened the solitudes. Further and further rushed the chase.
-Then the foal separated itself from its older companions and fell
-behind; the distance increased between it and the anxious glance
-which the mother repeatedly cast back; the distance between it
-and our horsemen decreased; and in a few minutes it was taken.
-Without resistance it gave itself up to its pursuers; it showed no
-trace of the characteristic qualities of the adults&mdash;wildness, hardly
-governable self-will, and inconquerable roguishness, which often
-degenerates into downright spite. Innocently it gazed at us with its
-large lively eyes, with apparent pleasure it allowed us to stroke its
-soft skin, without resistance it allowed itself to be led along with a
-halter, in child-like carelessness it lay down beside us seeking obviously
-much-needed rest after the heat of the chase. The charming
-creature at once captivated every one. But who was to find a
-milk-mare to be its foster-mother, who was to give it rest and care?
-Both were impossible, and on the second day the lovable creature
-was dead. With the passion of sportsmen would we have killed a
-full-grown kulan, but to see the foal die gave us genuine sorrow.</p>
-
-<p>In vain we tried to capture one of the adults; in vain we lay in
-ambush beside the bound foal in hopes of inveigling its mother;
-in vain we tried to effect something by driving; none of us had any
-luck. As a sportsman, I left the dreary solitudes with regret, but
-as a naturalist I was in the highest degree satisfied, for there I had
-come to know the noblest creature of the steppes.</p>
-
-
-<hr class="full x-ebookmaker-drop" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="c7">THE FORESTS AND SPORT OF SIBERIA.</h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>Siberian scenery gives one an impression of uniformity and
-monotony, which is mainly due to the fact that the whole country
-consists of three zones, each more or less homogeneous within itself,
-though distinct from the other two. Each of these zones preserves<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</span>
-its special character everywhere, and the same picture is repeated a
-hundred times, satiating and blunting the senses till one becomes
-almost incapable of recognizing or appreciating the charms of any
-scene. Thus it is that we seldom hear anyone speak with appreciation,
-much less with enthusiasm, of the scenery of this wide region,&mdash;although
-it certainly deserves both&mdash;and, thus, gradually there has
-become fixed in our minds an impression of Siberia which refuses
-correction with an obstinacy proportionate to its falseness. Siberia
-is thought of as a terrible ice-desert, without life, without variety,
-without charm, as a frozen land under the curse of heaven and of
-miserable exiles. But it is entirely forgotten that Siberia includes
-a full third of Asia, and that a region which is almost twice as large
-as the whole of Europe, which extends from the Ural to the Pacific
-Ocean, from the Arctic sea to the latitude of Palermo, cannot
-possibly be excessively monotonous nor uniform in all its parts.
-But people usually picture only one district of Siberia, and even that
-in a false light.</p>
-
-<p>In truth the country is richer in variety than any one has hitherto
-described it. Mountains interrupt and bound the plains, both
-are brightened by flowing and standing water, the sun floods hills
-and valleys with shimmering light and gleaming colour, lofty trees
-and beautiful flowers adorn the whole land, and men live happily,
-joyous in their homes.</p>
-
-<p>Of course there are undeniable wildernesses even now in Siberia,
-and these, along with the likewise real ice-deserts, the tundras, do,
-to a certain extent, justify the popular impression. Dreary also
-are the forests which lie between the tundra and the steppes, and
-form the third zone. In them man never ventures to establish himself;
-on them the industry of the settlers along their borders make
-relatively little impression; within them the forces of nature hold
-absolute sway, creating and destroying without interference. The
-flame of heaven sets the trees ablaze, the raging winter-storm
-hurls them to the ground; the forests rise and disappear without
-any human control, and may in the fullest sense of the word be
-called primeval. Full of mystery they attract, and at the same
-time inhospitably repel; inviting they seem to the hunter, but<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</span>
-resistant they bar his steps; rich gain they promise the eager
-merchant, but postpone the fulfilment of his wishes to the future.
-This girdle of forest extends, as we have mentioned, between the
-steppes and the tundra. Here and there it encroaches on both;
-here and there they intrude upon it. At certain places in both the
-unwooded zones, a compact wood may dispute possession with the
-characteristic vegetation of steppes or of tundra, as the case may
-be, but such isolated woods are almost always like islands in the
-sea, for whose presence there is no obvious justification. In the
-steppes they are restricted to the northern slopes of the mountains
-and to the valleys, in the tundra to the deepest depressions. But
-in both cases they are unimportant in comparison with the measureless
-extent of the forest zone, in which it is only here and there that
-a stream, a lake, or a swamp interrupts the continuity of the
-wilderness of trees which extends on all sides. A conflagration
-may make a clearing, or, at the extreme fringe, man may make a
-gap, but otherwise there is no interruption. Whole countries, as we
-know them, might find space in one of these immense forest tracts;
-and there are kingdoms of smaller area than some of them. What the
-interior is like no one can tell, for not even by the streams which
-flow from them can one penetrate far, and even the boldest sable-hunters
-do not know more than a margin of at most fifty or sixty
-miles.</p>
-
-<p>The general impression which the Siberian forests make on the
-German traveller is by no means favourable. At the apparently
-boundless tracts which are wooded, he is of course astonished, but
-he cannot be enthusiastic, or at least very rarely. The creative,
-productive, renewing power of the North does not seem to be
-adequate to balance the destructive forces. Hoary age stands side
-by side with fresh youth, but somehow there is no vitality in the
-combination; incomputable wealth appears in beggar’s garb; and
-moribund life without any promise of vigorous rejuvenescence
-inhibits any feeling of joy. Everywhere we seem to perceive the
-hard struggle for existence, but nowhere are we really fascinated or
-attracted by the spirit of the woods, nowhere does the interior fulfil
-the expectations which the external aspect suggested. The splendour<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</span>
-of the primitive forests in lower latitudes is entirely and
-absolutely lacking in this derelict, uncared-for woodland. The life
-which stirs within them seems as if it had already fallen under the
-shadow of death.<a id="FNanchor_29" href="#Footnote_29" class="fnanchor">[28]</a></p>
-
-<p>True forest, full of fresh life, with continuance amid a regular
-succession of changes, is rare. The devastation wrought by fire
-is a much more frequent spectacle. Sooner or later a lightning-flash,
-or the culpable carelessness of the Siberian, sets the forest in
-a blaze. Favoured by the season and the weather the conflagration
-spreads in a manner scarce conceivable. Not for hours, but for
-days, or even for weeks, the destruction rages. On the mossy and
-turfy ground the flames smoulder and creep further and further; the
-quantities of dry and mouldy débris on the ground feed them, dry
-branches hanging down to the ground, or dead trunks, still upright,
-lead them to the tops of the living trees. Hissing and cracking the
-resinous needles fall, and a gigantic spray of sparks rises to heaven.
-In a few minutes the giant tree is dead, and the destruction spreads;
-the rockets which radiate from it fall in thousands of sparks, and
-all around fresh flames spring from the glowing seed. Thus every
-minute the fire gains ground, and destruction spreads on all sides
-uncontrolled. In a few hours square miles of the forest are ablaze.
-Over hundreds of square <i>versts</i> steaming clouds of smoke darken
-the sun; slowly, but thickly, and ever more thickly, the ashes
-drizzle down, and tell by day to distant settlers, as the glow reflected
-in the sky proclaims by night, that there is a fire in the forest.
-Affrighted animals carry terror into the surrounding townships.
-Immediately after great forest-fires, bears appear in districts where
-they have not been seen for years; wolves wander over the open
-country in formidable troops as if it were winter; elks, stags,
-roedeer and reindeer seek new homes in distant forests; and
-squirrels in countless swarms hurry through wood and plain, field
-and meadow, village and town. How many of the terror-stricken
-beasts fall victims to the fire no one can estimate, but it has been
-found that woodlands desolated by conflagration remain for many
-years thereafter without fresh settlers, and that the valuable beasts
-of the chase have entirely disappeared from many of these desolated<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</span>
-districts. The devastation is sometimes on a scale of vast magnitude;
-thus, in 1870, a fire which raged for about fourteen days
-destroyed a million and a quarter acres of valuable forest in the
-government of Tobolsk, while clouds of smoke and showers of ashes
-were borne to a distance of a thousand miles from the seat of the
-conflagration.</p>
-
-<p>For many years the devastated woodland remains like an
-immense succession of ruins; even after a generation or two the
-limits of the conflagration may be recognized and defined. The
-flames destroy the life of almost all the trees, but they devour only
-those which were already dry; thus stems more smoked than charred
-remain standing, and even their tops may remain bereft only of
-their needles, young shoots, and dry twigs. But they are dead and
-their destruction is in process. Sooner or later they are bound to
-fall before the storm. One after another is hurled to the ground,
-and one after another is robbed of its branches, its crown, or a third
-or a fourth of the trunk is broken off from the top. Across one
-another, at all angles, and at different levels, thousands of these
-tree-corpses lie prostrate on the ground already thickly covered with
-piles of débris. Some rest on their roots and top-branches, others
-lean on the still upright stems of their neighbours, and others
-already lie crumbling among the fallen branches, their tops often
-far from their trunks, their branches scattered all around. To the
-lover of the woods, those stems which still withstand the storm
-have perhaps an even more doleful appearance than those which
-have fallen. They stand up in nakedness like bare masts. Only a
-few retain their tops, or parts of them, for several years after the
-fire; but the weather-beaten twigless branches of the crowns rather
-increase than lessen the mournfulness of the picture. Gradually all
-the crowns sink to the ground, and the still upright trunks become
-more and more rotten. Woodpeckers attack them on all sides,
-chisel out nesting-holes, and make yard-long passages leading into
-the tree’s heart, thus allowing the moisture free entrance and
-accelerating the process of decay. In the course of years even the
-largest trunk has mouldered so completely that it is really one huge
-homogeneous mass of rotten tinder which has lost all stability.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</span>
-Indeed, a rough shake from a man’s hand is sufficient to make it
-fall into a heap of shapeless débris. Finally, even this disappears,
-and there is left a treeless expanse, broken only here and there by
-the last traces of a trunk.</p>
-
-<p>But even here a new life begins to rise from amid the ruins.
-Some years after the conflagration, the charred ground, manured by
-ashes and decayed débris, begins once more to be adorned. Lichens
-and mosses, ferns and heaths, and above all various berry-bearing
-bushes cover the ground and the débris of the trees. These flourish
-more luxuriantly here than anywhere else, and they begin to attract
-animals as various as those which the flames had banished. Seeds of
-birch borne by the wind germinate and become seedlings, which
-gradually form, at first exclusively, a thicket as dense as if it had
-sprung from man’s sowing. After some years a young undergrowth
-has covered the field of the dead; after a longer interval other forest
-trees gradually arise in the room of their predecessors. Every forest-fire
-spares some parts of the region which it embraces; even isolated
-trees may survive in the midst of the burned area, and effect the re-sowing
-of the desolated tract. Sheets of water and deep gorges may
-set limits to the fire, and it may even happen that the flames, leaping
-over a gulley, continue their devastation on the opposite bank
-without injuring the trees in the depths beneath. Moreover, individual
-larch-trees which have been attacked by the fire may escape
-destruction. The bases of the trunks are charred and all the needles
-are shrivelled up, but often the crown bursts forth afresh, and for
-a time the tree continues, though somewhat miserably, to live.</p>
-
-<p>In comparison with the ravages of the flames, the devastations for
-which man is directly responsible seem trivial, but in themselves
-they are of no slight importance. Of forest-culture the Siberian
-has no conception. The forest belongs to God, and what is His is
-also the peasant’s; thus, in view of the practically infinite wealth,
-he never thinks of sparing, but does what he pleases, what the
-needs of the moment seem to him to demand. Every Siberian fells
-and roots out, where and as he pleases, and everyone destroys infinitely
-more than he really requires. For a few cones he will fell a
-pine, even if it be in the prime of growth; to obtain building wood<span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</span>
-he will cut down three or four times the quantity required, leaving
-the residue without a thought, often not even using it for fuel.
-Already, such careless procedure has entailed serious consequences.
-The woods in the neighbourhood of townships, and here and there
-even those near the highways, are worked out, and appear scarce
-better than those which the fire has devastated; and still the work
-of destruction goes on. It is only since 1875 that there have been
-forest-officers in Western Siberia, and even they give their attention
-rather to the exploitation than to the renewal of the woods.</p>
-
-<p>Even where neither man nor fire has ravaged them the forests
-present an appearance essentially different from ours&mdash;an appearance
-of complete, absolutely uncontrolled naturalness. It is but
-rarely, however, that this attracts us. At first, perhaps, we are impressed
-by seeing at one glance all stages of growth and decay; but
-the dead soon becomes more conspicuous than the living, and this
-depresses instead of stimulating.<a id="FNanchor_30" href="#Footnote_30" class="fnanchor">[29]</a> In forests thus left in their natural
-state, thick growth alternates with clearing, tall trees with mere
-thicket, hoary senility with vigorous youth. Mouldering trees stand
-or lean, hang or lie everywhere. From the remains of fallen stems
-young shoots sprout; gigantic corpses bar the way within the thickets.
-Willows and aspens, which, with the birch, are the most abundant
-foliage-trees of Western Siberia, appear at times in irreproachable
-perfection, and at times as if they had been persistently hindered
-from full growth. Stems thicker than a man’s waist bear tangled
-crowns of small size, on which, year after year, fresh twigs break
-forth without being able to grow into branches; other apparently
-aged trees remain not more than bushes; and others, broken across
-the middle, have their split, cracked, and twisted upper parts connected
-to the trunk only by the splintered bark. Rarely does one
-get a complete picture; everything looks as if it were going to ruin,
-and could advance only in decay.</p>
-
-<p>Yet this sketch is not true of all the woods in this vast region;
-there are indeed woodlands, especially in the south of the zone, on
-which the eye rests with satisfaction. Locality, situation, soil, and
-other conditions are sometimes alike propitious and combine to produce
-pleasing results. The growth of the individual trees becomes<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</span>
-vigorous, and the general composition of the wood changes; the
-undergrowth, which is luxuriant everywhere, becomes diversified in
-the most unexpected manner. Gladly one welcomes each new species
-of tree or bush which reduces the marked poverty of species in
-these forests, but even from the richest tracts many trees are awanting
-which we rarely miss in Europe at the same latitude. It must
-be confessed that the forests of Siberia are uniform and monotonous,
-like the steppes, and like the tundra.</p>
-
-<p>In the river-valleys of the forest zone the uniformity is perhaps
-most conspicuous. Here the willows predominate, forming often
-extensive woods by the banks and on the islands, almost to the complete
-exclusion of other trees. Over wide stretches willows alone
-form the woods of the valley, and in many places the trees rise to a
-stately height, yet even then without often gaining in impressiveness
-or charm. For the isolated willow-tree is not more, but rather
-less picturesque than the willow bushes; its crown is always thin
-and irregular, it is not close-set but loose and open, in fact almost
-scraggy. On frequent repetition it becomes wearisome. When the
-willows stand, as is usual, close beside one another, they form a
-dense thicket, and then, even more than the isolated tree, they lack
-character, for all the stems rise like posts and all the crowns fuse
-into a close, straight-contoured mass of foliage, suggestive of a
-clipped hedge, in which the individual trees are entirely merged. As
-pleasing additions to such monotonous woods we welcome the sprinkling
-of poplars, the silver poplar in the south, the aspen in the north,
-both of them giving some animation to the willows. In the valley
-of the stream too, but only in those places which are not subject
-to regularly-recurring floods, the birch appears in addition to the
-trees already noticed; indeed birch-covered tracts occur with some
-constancy as connecting links between the willow-woods and the
-pine-forests. But it is only in the south of the zone that the birch
-attains its full size and vigour; it is as unresisting a victim to the
-flames as the most resinous pine, and is therefore incapable of greatly
-affecting the general aspect of the forest. More or less unmixed birch
-woods bound the forest zone to the south, and sometimes intrude
-far into the steppes, yet it is but rarely that they form thick, compact,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</span>
-well-established stretches of timber; and they are, when one
-sets foot in them, disappointing.</p>
-
-<p>On the other hand, the pine-forests which cover all the regions
-between the river-courses often fascinate and satisfy the traveller
-from the west. If the tundra has not gained upon them or begun
-to make its desolating mark, they consist in the main of vigorous
-pines and Norway spruce firs, the pichta or Siberian silver fir,
-the cembra pine, and more rarely larches. Among these there are
-aspens and willows, with occasional mountain-ash and bird-cherry,
-while birches often appear in as great vigour as in woods which
-consist exclusively of this accommodating tree. The pichta and
-the cembra pine are the characteristic trees of all West Siberian
-pine-forests, and vie with one another in beauty and vigour
-of growth. The pichta is a particularly beautiful tree. Nearly
-related to our silver fir, and representing it in all East Russian and
-West Siberian woodlands, even from a distance it catches the eye,
-standing out impressively from among all the other conifers. From
-the silver fir and from the Norway spruce fir the pichta is distinguished
-by the stateliness of its slender conical crown and by the rich,
-delicate, bright green needles. Almost always it overtops the other
-trees of the forest; usually, indeed, the topmost third is above the
-crowns of its neighbours, thus effectively breaking the sky-line of
-the forest and giving an individual character to certain regions. The
-cembra or stone pine, which flourishes especially in the south of the
-forest zone, though it also occurs far to the north, has round, smooth,
-usually compact tops which contrast well with those of the other
-pines and firs; and it also contributes not a little to the external
-adornment of the forest, towards making it seem more attractive
-than it is. Pines and spruce firs are nowhere absent, but they do
-not flourish everywhere as they do in the mountains of Central
-Germany; towards the north they sink rapidly into crippled senility.
-And so is it also with the larches, whose true home is Siberia; it is
-only in the south of the forest zone, especially on the mountains,
-that they attain the stately height of those in our country.</p>
-
-<p>The above-named species include almost all those which occur
-regularly in the woodlands of Western Siberia. There seems to be<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</span>
-a complete absence of oak and beech, elm and ash, lime and maple,
-silver fir and yew, hornbeam and black poplar. On the other hand,
-there are many kinds of bushes and shrubs in abundance everywhere.
-Even in the north the undergrowth of the forests is surprisingly
-rich and luxuriant. Currants and raspberries flourish to
-a latitude of 58°, a species of woodbine occurs up to 67°; juniper,
-white alder, sallow, crowberry, bilberry, cranberry, and cloudberries
-increase rather than decrease as one goes north; and even on
-the margins of the tundra, where dwarf-birches and marsh-andromedas,
-mosses, and cowberries insinuate themselves into the interior
-of the woods, the ground is still everywhere thickly covered, for the
-mosses thrive the more luxuriantly the poorer the woods become.
-The steppes also contribute to enrich the woods, for in the south
-of the forest zone, not only most of the steppe-bushes and shrubs,
-but also various herbs and flowers, enter or fringe the forest. Thus
-certain wooded stretches of this border-land become natural parks,
-which in spring and early summer display a surprising splendour
-of blossom.</p>
-
-<p>As an instance of a forest glorious in such charms, I may mention
-that region known as “Taiga,”<a id="FNanchor_31" href="#Footnote_31" class="fnanchor">[30]</a> which lies between the towns
-Schlangenberg and Salain, in the domain of Altai. In the broad
-tract which this beautiful forest covers there is a most pleasing
-succession of long ridges and rounded hills, valleys, troughs, and
-basins. One hill rises beyond and above another, and everywhere
-one sees a sky-line of forest. Pines and pichta firs, aspen and
-willow, mountain-ash and bird-cherry, are in the majority among
-the high trees, and are mingled in most pleasing contrasts of bright
-and dark colour, of light and shade. The soft lines of the foliage
-trees are pleasingly broken by the conical summits of the pichta
-firs which overtop them. The two species of Siberian pea-tree,
-guelder-rose and woodbine, wild rose and currant are combined in
-the brightly blooming undergrowth; Umbellifers as tall as a
-man, especially hemlock; spiræa; ferns such as maidenhair, larkspur
-and foxglove, bluebell and hellebore all shooting up in unparalleled
-luxuriance, weave a gay carpet, from which the wild
-hops climb and twine up to the tall trees. It is as if the art of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</span>
-landscape gardener had been intelligently exercised, as if man had
-fashioned the whole with an eye to scenic effect.</p>
-
-<p>In the south, the forests show their greatest beauty in spring,
-in the north, in autumn. By the first days of September the leaves
-of the foliage trees begin to turn yellow here, and by the middle
-of the month the north Siberian forest is more brilliant than any
-of ours. From the darkest green to the most flaming red, through
-green and light green, light yellow and orange yellow, pale red and
-carmine, all the shades of colour are represented. The dark Norway
-spruce firs and pichta firs are followed by the cembra pines and
-larches; and next in order come the few birches which are not yet
-yellowed. The white alders display all gradations from dark to
-light green and to greenish yellow; the aspen leaves are bright
-cinnabar red, the mountain-ash and the bird-cherry are carmine.
-So rich and yet so harmonious is the mingling of all these colours
-that sense and sentiment are satisfied to the full.</p>
-
-<p>Such are the pictures which the woodlands of Western Siberia
-display to the traveller. But all the sketches we have attempted
-to give have been taken from within a narrow fringe. To penetrate
-further into the primeval forests, in summer at least, seems to the
-western traveller absolutely impossible. On the slopes of the
-mountains he is hindered by thickets and masses of débris, on highland
-and plain alike by prostrate trees and a tangle of bushes, in
-the hollows and valleys by standing and flowing water, by brooks
-and swamps. Wide-spread talus from the rocks, blocks and boulders
-rolled into heaps and layers form barriers on all the hills; lichens
-and mosses form a web over the rocks, and treacherously conceal
-the numerous gaps and clefts between them; a young undergrowth
-is rooted between and upon the old possessors of the soil; and the
-old trees as well as the young increase the risk of attempting
-to traverse these regions. On the low ground the obstacles which
-the forests present are hardly less formidable. Literally impenetrable
-thickets such as exist in the virgin forests of equatorial
-countries there are none, but there are obstacles enough. The
-prostrated trunks are all the more troublesome because most of
-them lie, not on the untrodden path, but at an inconvenient height<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</span>
-above it; they are turnpikes in the most unpleasant sense of the
-word. Sometimes it is possible to climb over them or to creep
-under them; but equally often neither is possible, and one is forced
-to make a circuit, which is the more unwelcome, since, without constant
-reference to the compass, it is only too easy to stray from the
-intended direction. Real clearings are met with but rarely, and if
-one tries to walk across them, deep holes and pools full of mud and
-decayed débris soon show that here also the greatest caution is
-necessary. If the traveller trusts to one of the many cattle-tracks,
-which, in the south of the forest-zone, lead from every village to the
-forest, and penetrate into it for some distance, even then sooner or
-later he finds himself at fault. It is impossible to tell, or even to
-guess, whither such a path leads, for it intersects hundreds of others,
-and runs through tangled brushwood, through tall grass concealing
-unpleasant débris of trees, through moss and marsh; in short, they
-are not paths for human foot. Thus, though there are not everywhere
-insuperable obstacles, one meets everywhere and continuously
-with hindrances so numerous and so vexatious, that even where the
-plague of mosquitoes is not intolerable, the traveller is apt to return
-much sooner than he had intended. Only in winter, when hard
-frost has covered all the pools, bogs, and swamps with a trustworthy
-crust, when deep snow has smoothed off most of the roughnesses,
-and is itself coated with a hard layer of ice, only then are the
-forests accessible to the hunter equipped with snow-shoes, and
-accompanied by weather-hardened dogs; only then can even the
-natives think of making long expeditions.</p>
-
-<p>Siberian forests are dumb and dead, “dead to the point of
-starvation”, as Middendorf most justly says. The silence which
-reigns within them is a positive torture. When the pairing of the
-black-cock is past one may hear the song of the fieldfare and the
-black-throated thrush, the warbling of the white-throat, the linnet,
-and the pine grosbeak, the melody of the wood-wren, and the call of
-the cuckoo, but hardly ever all these voices at once. The trilling call
-of the greenshank and redshank becomes a song, the chattering of
-the magpie gains a new charm, even the cawing of the hooded crow
-and the raven seem cheerful, and the call of a woodpecker or a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</span>
-titmouse most refreshing. The silence expresses the desolateness
-of the woods. He who hopes to be able to lead in them a joyous
-sportsman’s life will be bitterly disappointed. Doubtless all the
-immense woods of this region have more tenants, especially birds
-and mammals, than we are at first inclined to believe, but these
-animals are so unequally distributed over the immeasurable area, and
-probably also wander so widely, that we can arrive at no standard
-for estimating their numbers. Miles and miles are, or appear to be
-for a time at least, so lifeless and desolate that naturalist and sportsman
-alike are almost driven to despair, their expectations are so
-continually disappointed. All the reports of even experienced observers
-who have sojourned there leave one still in the dark.
-Districts which seem to combine all the conditions necessary for
-the vigorous and comfortable life of certain species of animals,
-shelter, to all appearance, not a single pair, not even a male, naturally
-fond of roving. In such woods, far from human settlements, and
-to some extent beyond the limits of human traffic, one cannot but
-hope at length to fall in with the species which should frequent
-such places, but the hope is as fallacious as the supposition that
-one is more likely to meet with them in the heart of the forest than
-on its outskirts. The fact is that the regions under man’s influence,
-which he has modified, and to some extent cultivated, seem often
-to exhibit a more abundant and diverse life than the interior of the
-forest-wilderness. Wherever man has founded stable settlements,
-rooted out trees, and laid out fields and pasture-lands, there
-gradually arises a greater diversity of animal life than is to be seen
-in the vast untouched regions which remain in their original monotony.
-It seems as if many animals find suitable localities for settlement
-only after the ground is brought under cultivation. Of course
-the fact that certain animals are more abundant in the neighbourhood
-of man, where they are ruthlessly hunted, than they are
-in the inaccessible forest, where danger scarce threatens them, implies
-a gradual reinforcement from without. At certain seasons
-at least there must be migrations of more or less considerable extent,
-and in these most of the West Siberian animals take part. All the
-observations hitherto made corroborate this view.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f23">
-<img src="images/fig23.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 19.&mdash;Reindeer Flocking to Drink.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>The only stationary animals, in the usual sense of the word,
-seem to be certain mountain species and those which hibernate in
-caves and holes; all the rest migrate more or less regularly. At the
-pairing and nesting time all the West Siberian animals segregate
-themselves, except those which are gregarious during the breeding
-season. Later on, the parents and their young combine with their
-fellows in herds or flocks, which, impelled by the need for more
-readily obtainable food, and perhaps also driven off by the plague
-of mosquitoes, set out on their wanderings together. Localities rich
-in fodder attract the herbivorous creatures, which are the first to
-arrive, but on their heels come others, and finally their enemies.
-Thus certain parts of the woodland are depopulated and others are<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</span>
-peopled, and there occur actual blocks in the migratory stream, which
-must be the more striking in contrast to the usual desolateness and
-emptiness of the forest. The scenes of old conflagrations are
-favourite rendezvous, for, on the fertilized soil, berry-bearing bushes
-of various sorts have sprung up and attained luxuriant growth.
-Here, in autumn, the Siberian herbivores find a rich harvest, and not
-only they, but wolves and foxes, martens and gluttons, sables and
-bears, primarily attracted by the collected herds, may be seen banqueting,
-devouring the berries with evident pleasure. The different
-animals thus brought together seem to remain for a time in a certain
-correlation. The herbivores, as observant sportsmen have
-noticed, keep with unmistakable constancy to the berries; and the
-carnivores follow closely in their tracks.</p>
-
-<p>These migrations explain how it is that during certain years
-some of the woods are filled with all kinds of beasts of the chase,
-while during other years they are entirely forsaken. The traveller
-from the west, who journeys in late winter or early spring in
-Western Siberia, beholds with astonishment a flock of three to five
-hundred black-game rise in crowded flight from the highway through
-the forest, and learns with not less astonishment a little later that
-the same or even more favourable woods are but sparsely stocked
-with these birds. In summer he searches in the most suitable
-localities for the hazel-grouse, and is discouraged because his search
-is continually futile; in autumn he is pleasantly surprised to see, in
-the same places, abundance of the same game.</p>
-
-<p>So peculiar are the conditions due to the monotonous uniformity
-of wide stretches, that the huntsman who will make sure of his
-booty must be very familiar with them; indeed, even the most
-skilful and experienced sportsman is always and everywhere in the
-measureless forests at the mercy of chance. Whatever be the game
-he pursues, he never can predict where he will find it. Yesterday
-the goddess of the chase was kind to extravagance; to-day she
-refuses him every aid. There is no lack of game, but the huntsman
-who had to live on what he shot would starve. A sportsman’s life,
-such as is possible in other latitudes, is inconceivable in Western
-Siberia; the profit to be derived from the forest chase is inconsiderable.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</span>
-Some animals, for example the beaver,<a id="FNanchor_32" href="#Footnote_32" class="fnanchor">[31]</a> seem already
-to have been exterminated; and others, especially the much-prized
-sable, have withdrawn from the inhabited districts into the interior
-of the forest. Everywhere in Siberia one hears the common complaint,
-that game becomes scarcer every year; and it is certain that
-from one decennium to another the diminution is perceptible. For
-this man is not wholly responsible; the forest-fires and the devastating
-epidemics which now and then break out are probably as
-much, if not more, to blame. At the same time, no Siberian ever
-realizes that a temporary sparing of the game is the first condition
-of its preservation. Sportsman-like hunting is unknown; the
-most varied means are used to kill as many animals as possible.
-Gun and rifle are mere accessories; pitfalls and nets, spring-guns
-and poison are the most important agents employed by natives and
-immigrants alike.</p>
-
-<p>“Game” to the Siberian means every animal which he can in
-any way use after its death, the elk and the flying squirrel, the
-tiger and the weasel, the capercaillie and the magpie. What the
-superstition of one race spares falls as a booty to the other; animals
-whose flesh the Russians despise are delicacies to the Mongolian
-palate. Ostiaks and Samoyedes take young foxes, martens, bears,
-owls, swans, geese, and other creatures, treat them tenderly as long
-as they are young, care for them sedulously until the fur or plumage
-is fully developed, and then kill them, eating the flesh and selling
-the skin. The number of skins brought from Siberia to the
-markets there and in Europe is computed in millions: the number
-used in the country itself is much smaller, but still very considerable.
-The quantity of furred, and especially of feathered game,
-which is transported to a distance in a frozen state, also mounts up
-to many hundreds of thousands. Along with the furs of mammals
-the skins of certain birds are at present much exported, especially
-those of swans, geese, gulls, grebes, and magpies, which, like the
-furs, are used in making muffs, collars, and hat trimmings. A
-single merchant in the unimportant town of Tjukalinsk passes
-through his hands every year thirty thousand plover-skins, ten
-thousand swan-skins, and about a hundred thousand magpies; and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</span>
-some years ago his sale was much larger.<a id="FNanchor_33" href="#Footnote_33" class="fnanchor">[32]</a> That the total traffic in
-skins must involve a yearly diminution of the animals is certain;
-and that only the inaccessibility of the wildernesses of forest and
-water preserves the affected species from utter destruction will be
-plain to everyone who knows the unsparing hand of the Siberian
-huntsman.</p>
-
-<p>Although it is plain from what we have said that the Siberian’s
-conception of game is a very wide one, the animals looked upon as
-worthy of hunting are really those which we ourselves regard as
-furred and feathered game, or would so regard if they occurred in
-Germany. In our sense of the term, the game of the forest girdle
-includes the Maral stag and the roe-deer, the elk and the reindeer,
-the wolf, the fox, the Arctic fox, the lynx and the bear, the Arctic
-hare, the squirrel, the striped and flying squirrel, but above all,
-the martens, viz., sable, pine-marten and stone-marten, pole-cat,
-kolonok, ermine, weasel, glutton, and otter; besides the capercaillie,
-black-grouse, and hazel-grouse. In the south must be added the
-tiger, which now and then prowls within this region, the ounce, the
-musk-deer, and the wild boar of the mountain forest; while the
-north also yields the willow grouse, occasionally found at least on
-the outskirts of the forest. These animals everyone hunts, and the
-more civilized do so in a regular, if not always sportsmanlike,
-fashion; for most of them ingenious and effective snares are also
-laid.</p>
-
-<p>Of the latter the much-used “fall-trap” is most worthy of
-notice. Its arrangement is as follows:&mdash;Across clear spaces in the
-forest, especially those which afford a clear view, a low and very
-inconspicuous fence is stretched, and in the middle of this an
-opening is left, or there may be two or three if the fence be long.
-Each opening is laterally bounded by two firm stakes which bear a
-cross-beam above, and are meant to guide the falling beam, which
-consists of two long, moderately thick tree-stems, bound side by
-side. A long lever rests on the cross-beam, on its short arm the
-falling beam is suspended, while a cord from the long arm forms the
-connection with a peg-arrangement. The latter is contrived as
-follows. A short stick, forked at one end and pointed at the other,
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</span>is fixed with the fork against a notch in one of the stakes, and with
-its pointed end fastened against another longer peg whose forked
-end rests lightly on the other stake. The two pegs keep one
-another in position, but on the slightest pressure they fall asunder.
-When the trap is set, the peg arrangement which corresponds to
-the trigger is covered with numerous light, dry twigs, not so much
-to conceal it, as to form a larger surface of possible contact. When
-an animal, even a small bird, steps upon the twigs, the two pegs
-fall asunder, and the beam drops, killing the animal under it. If
-it be set for a beast of prey, bait is laid beside the triggers; all
-other kinds of game are simply guided to the trap by the direction
-of the fence. In many woods all the haunts, paths, and clear spaces
-are beset with these traps in hundreds and thousands, so that the
-huntsman is often compensated by abundant booty for the slight
-trouble which it takes to arrange his effective apparatus. Grouse,
-hares, squirrels, and ermine are the commonest victims; polecat,
-pine-marten, and sable, the rarest. Gluttons also and wolves often
-lose their lives, but the survivors learn like dogs, and anxiously
-avoid the set traps, though neither is at all afraid to steal or gnaw
-at and thus destroy the booty caught in one which has sprung.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f24">
-<img src="images/fig24.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 20.&mdash;Elk and Black-cock in a Siberian Forest.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Besides the “fall-trap”, the Ostiaks and Samoyedes are fond of
-using a spring-gun arrangement, fitted with bow and arrow or
-automatic cross-bow. As the bow is very strong and the arrow
-well made, the murderous contrivance is very effective, and exceedingly
-dangerous to the inattentive explorer. Ingenious arrangements
-hold the bow stretched, and keep it and the arrow in position;
-a wooden clasp relaxes the bow whenever a line stretched across the
-animal’s run is touched. In order to direct the arrow so that it may
-pierce the heart of the victim, the ingenious people use a pillar-like
-perforated target the size of the desired booty. When this is placed
-on the run it has the perforation at the precise level of the beast’s
-heart, and according to the distance between the heart and the
-collar-bone, the hunters determine the distance between the mark
-and the trigger. As all the natives are well acquainted with the
-tracks of various kinds of game, the spring-gun only fails when a
-creature comes along entirely different in size from that for which<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</span>
-the arrow was destined. Usually they are set for foxes, and with
-hardly less success for wolves, or even for elk and reindeer, while
-the automatic cross-bow is arranged for smaller game, especially
-ermine and squirrels. For both of these, bait is spread which can
-only be got at when the animal creeps through a narrow hole in
-front of the lower part of the set cross-bow. In so doing the
-creature touches a trigger, and is forthwith crushed by a broad,
-chisel-like arrow which the cross-bow shoots forcibly down on its
-appointed course.</p>
-
-<p>As an important addition to these old-fashioned contrivances,
-fire-arms have recently come more and more into vogue among the
-natives of Western Siberia, but they do not displace the bow and
-arrow. Powder and bullets are dear, and the people prefer small-bored
-matchlocks and flint-locks, which are exceedingly bad; but they
-use these defective weapons with remarkable skill. A fork fastened
-in front to the barrel, and used as a rest, is to be seen on every gun,
-and even the educated sportsmen use it as indispensable to the
-effective use of the matchlock. Fowling-pieces are used by the officials
-and well-to-do townsfolk, but not by the natives, who have to make
-a profit by the chase, and to measure their powder, as it were, by the
-grain. They fill a small horn with the expensive material, wind a
-leaden wire of the diameter of their bore twice or thrice round their
-waists, and thus equipped set out on the chase. The leaden wire
-serves for making bullets, which are not cast but simply cut, or,
-even more simply, bitten off the wire; the resulting peg-like shot is
-laid without any wad directly on the powder, and thus the gun is
-loaded. Of course the native huntsmen do not shoot from a distance
-except when forced to, but to the height of medium-sized trees their
-aim is so sure that they take the eye of the sable or squirrel for
-their mark and seldom miss it.</p>
-
-<p>The various species of grouse are more generally hunted than any
-other creatures, and are caught and killed in hundreds of thousands.
-During the pairing season capercaillie and black-grouse are almost
-everywhere left unmolested. The sportsman’s joy as we know it
-when the pairing grouse take wing can scarcely be experienced in
-Siberia, owing to the inaccessibility of the woodland; not even for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</span>
-the pairing black-grouse does one rise betimes in May; the hazel-grouse
-alone is sought after by mimicking his love-call. But who
-would put himself to so much trouble and discomfort for so uncertain
-a prize? Only in autumn and winter does the chase reward
-the Siberian as he desires and expects; when the young birds
-change their plumage, when the coveys unite in large flocks, and
-when these wander through the forest in search of berries, then is
-the huntsman’s opportunity. Whoever is not afraid of discomforts
-of all kinds pursues the migrating flocks with his dogs&mdash;usually
-pitiable helpers&mdash;and generally returns with rich booty; those who
-know how to use snow-shoes hunt capercaillie and black-game
-even in winter. After the first heavy snowfall the migrations
-are stopped, and each flock seeks out a resting-place which
-promises abundant food for a few days at least. In the beginning
-of winter the still ungathered cranberries afford sufficient
-food, and afterwards the juniper berries; when both these supplies
-are exhausted the easily satisfied birds take to the leaves of larch,
-and finally of pine and fir, and to the young cones of all these
-conifers. As long as possible they continue their wanderings on
-foot, and often cover seven or eight miles in a day; occasionally
-they come within a few hundred paces of a settlement, and leave
-such distinct footprints on the fresh snow that the huntsman is bound
-to discover them. When they are forced to take to a diet of pine-needles,
-the sportsman is able to track them, at first by their droppings,
-and eventually by their sleeping-places. For the Siberian
-capercaillie and black-game differ in habit from their relatives in
-Germany, and make more or less deep burrows, usually reaching
-from the surface of the snow down to the ground. They leave
-these in the morning, or when danger threatens, breaking with
-beating wings through the coverlet of snow. These shelters are,
-therefore, readily recognizable, and as they also afford sure indication
-of the night on which they were used, they are most valuable
-guides to the experienced sportsman. Amid continuous snowfall the
-birds sometimes remain beneath the snow till towards mid-day, and
-then, after they have taken to the trees and are eating, they will
-allow the huntsman to come within range, for they are not scared by<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</span>
-the barking of his dogs, and, while watching the cur at the foot of
-the tree, often overlook the marksman. The first condition of
-success in such hunting is, that the snow have not only smoothed off
-most of the roughness of the ground, and thus removed the greatest
-obstacles to progress, but that it be sufficiently firm to afford the
-necessary resistance to the huntsman’s snow-shoes.</p>
-
-<p>With incomparably greater comfort, and usually with more
-success, the black-grouse may be hunted by means of the decoy or
-<i>bulban</i>. When using this the huntsman sets out before dawn in
-autumn, hides in the forest in a previously-prepared or rapidly-constructed
-hut, and there fixes up the <i>bulban</i>. This is a stuffed decoy-bird
-or one fashioned of wood and tow, with black, white, and red
-cloth at appropriate places, a deceptive imitation of the living bird.
-It is perched by means of a pole on the highest of the surrounding
-trees, with its head to the wind, and while the sportsman hides in
-the hut, men and dogs drive the adjacent forest. All the young
-black-game, or all which have not learned wisdom from previous
-experience, fly, when disturbed, to the bulban, which, to all appearance,
-is a fellow-bird sitting in reassuring security. They crowd
-on to the same tree, and the sportsman beneath, equipped with a
-small-bored and but slightly noisy rifle, or sometimes also with a
-fowling-piece, often has the pick of dozens of silly birds. In woods
-which are undisturbed throughout the summer, the black-grouse
-are so heedless of the slight report of the rifle, that after a bird has
-fallen dead from the tree the others do not fly away, but stretching
-their necks gaze at their fallen comrade, and wait quietly until the
-marksman has reloaded and claimed a second or a third victim. So
-abundant are these birds that the assertion that a single sportsman
-may, in the course of the morning, bring down twenty or more
-without leaving his hut is perfectly credible.</p>
-
-<p>Not less effective than the decoying of black-game, fascinating
-moreover, and satisfactory to every sportsman, is the hunting of
-the hazel-grouse as practised in Siberia. No special equipment of
-any kind is required, not even trained dogs&mdash;useful auxiliaries none
-the less&mdash;are indispensable. The hazel-grouse is very abundant in
-all suitable parts of the West Siberian forests, perhaps more abundant<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</span>
-than the capercaillie and black-grouse, but it is so noiseless
-that one may often miss it although there are numerous coveys in the
-wood. It never forms such large flocks as its relatives, nor does
-it undertake such long migrations, but it is more uniformly distributed
-throughout the wide forest-wilderness, and the sportsman
-who knows its ways gets more readily within shot of it than in the
-case of any other bird of the woods. During spring and summer it
-seems to the inexperienced to have wholly disappeared; but in
-autumn it occurs everywhere, even in those places where, a few
-months before, it might have been sought for in vain. It is as fond
-of berries as are its relatives, and to secure these it visits the larger
-clearings, which, in spring and summer, it seems to avoid. But even
-there it knows how to escape observation. It lies much more
-closely than capercaillie or black-cock, and, without anxiously concealing
-itself on the approach of an intruder, remains as long as possible
-motionless, only rising when the enemy is almost touching it.
-Even then its flight is so noiseless and inconspicuous that one may
-readily fail to hear or see it; even a partridge or a wood-cock makes
-more noise than this charming bird, of whose flight only a gentle
-whirring is perceptible. When startled, it usually, though by no
-means always, flies to the nearest fir-tree and alights on the first
-convenient branch, but there it sits so quietly that it is once more
-as inconspicuous as it was on the ground. The sportsman often
-tries for a long time in vain to discover the bird’s whereabouts, and
-when he has finally decided that it has secretly flown off, he is
-suddenly nonplussed by a start or movement which betrays its
-presence on the very branch on which he had looked for it repeatedly.
-The cleverness with which all birds of this sort hide themselves from
-observation has reached a rare perfection in the hazel-grouse. For its
-haunts it prefers the boggy and mossy parts of the forest, which
-abound in bilberries and cranberries and are surrounded by old
-dead trees and young growths. Here it knows so skilfully how to
-use the cover, that one rarely perceives it until it has flown for
-security to one of the lifeless giants. When it does not move, it
-appears most deceptively like a knot on the tree, and it behaves as if
-it knew that it could trust to the colour-resemblance between its<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</span>
-plumage and its surroundings. Nevertheless, whenever it shows
-itself freely it keeps looking anxiously all round, and, if it suspects
-danger, leaves its perch as silently as it gained it. Hazel-grouse
-shooting is a true pleasure to the sportsman. He may expect the bird
-almost everywhere in the forest, and can never tell how it will show
-itself; he must usually dispense with all auxiliaries, but his success
-is not prejudiced by awkward companions; and he is even more richly
-rewarded by the continuous tension and pleasurable excitement than
-by the exquisite dish afforded by this best-flavoured of game-birds.</p>
-
-<p>Compared with the importance of game-birds to the sportsman,
-and indeed to the community generally, the chase and exploitation
-of big game in West Siberia must seem inconsiderable. The four
-species of stag found in this region are for various, but equally unsatisfactory
-reasons, much less appreciated than they deserve. They are
-treated in a manner which, if not actually barbarous, seems to us
-disagreeable or even repulsive. This is especially true in regard to
-the Maral stag. This splendid creature, according to some naturalists
-a large-sized red-deer, according to others a nearly related
-species with larger body and stronger antlers, lives in all the
-southern forests, especially on the mountains, and is probably by
-no means so rare as the untiring lust for the chase on the part of
-both natives and strangers has made it seem. For a strange reason
-the said lust for the chase endangers this stag most seriously just
-at the time when he needs most to be spared. For he is hunted by
-all the North Asiatic hunters not for his flesh nor his skin, nor for
-his fully-branched head, but solely and wholly for the growing,
-incompletely tined, and still velvety antlers.<a id="FNanchor_34" href="#Footnote_34" class="fnanchor">[33]</a> Out of this the
-Chinese physicians or quacks prepare a specific, which is greatly
-sought after by rich debilitated Celestials, and is sold for its weight
-in gold. It is esteemed as a stimulant of rare virtue, and believed
-to be replaceable by no other. Most sought after are the half-branched,
-six-tined antlers, still richly filled with blood; for these
-the price is from £10 to £15, while completely formed antlers, with
-twelve or fourteen tines, and bared of their velvet, may be bought
-for six to twelve shillings. Not only the Mongols of North and
-Central Asia, but also the Siberians of Russian origin, exert themselves<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</span>
-to procure these valuable antlers, which, when obtained in
-the proper condition, are despatched as quickly as possible, especially
-by post, to Kiachta, whence, through special merchants, thousands are
-sent every year to China without satisfying the demand. Siberian
-peasants also keep the Maral stag in captivity for the sole purpose
-of cutting off the blood-charged antlers at the proper time and
-selling them. Now, since all stags when growing their antlers
-avoid the dense thickets, and are less wary than at other seasons,
-and as the one- and two-year-old stags are as little spared as those
-with crown antlers, it is obvious that the numerical strength of the
-race must be notably impoverished, and that the breeding must also
-be appreciably affected. The flesh and the skin obtained in the
-slaughter are but rarely taken into consideration; if it would involve
-any trouble to remove the carcase, it is usually left without
-reluctance to the wolves and foxes.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f25">
-<img src="images/fig25.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 21.&mdash;The Maral Stag.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</span></p>
-
-<p>As the Maral stag excels ours, so is it with the Siberian or large
-roe-deer, which differs from ours in its larger growth and by the
-high antlers with weakly developed burrs. Its specific independence,
-however, is still a subject of controversy among taxonomists. In
-Siberia it prefers the stretches of woodland which have begun to
-recover from the effects of a conflagration, and in which the pichta
-fir is abundant. It also frequents the fringes of the forest and
-small woods, and ascends the mountains to considerable heights, not
-unfrequently above the forest-line; it may likewise pass into the
-open steppes, associating on the heights with the steinbock and wild
-sheep, and on the plains with the antelope. According to the nature
-of the country, it undertakes more or less regular migrations, even
-without being forced to these by forest fires, and in its wanderings
-it will traverse wide stretches and cross broad rivers without hesitation.
-In certain circumstances it appears in regions in which it
-has not been seen for years, and from these centres it makes excursions
-round about. In its wanderings it usually keeps to definite
-roads, but is now and then forced to follow narrow paths. The
-rocky and precipitous river-banks of the larger streams compel it
-to make its way through a few cross-valleys and gorges, and this
-necessity is often the animal’s ruin, for the trapper rarely omits to
-stretch his leading-fence across these runs, and to lay his pitfalls
-fatally. Wolf and lynx press upon it at every season; Russians
-and native Siberians likewise. Like other game it is hunted unsparingly;
-every circumstance is utilized and every trick is tried to
-effect its capture. At the beginning of the thaw, when cold nights
-have frozen the top layer of snow into a thin crust of ice, the hunter
-sets off on horseback or on snow-shoes with a pack of nimble dogs;
-he rouses the stag with his shouts and runs it down, fatiguing it
-the sooner the harder the ice is, for, as the stag bounds, the crust
-breaks under its slender hoofs, and its ankles are cut. In spring,
-the hunters entice the doe by imitating the cry of the fawn, and the
-buck is similarly allured in the leafy season by a skilful echo of
-the doe’s call; in the intermediate season and later, both sexes are
-inveigled by special dainties; in autumn a drive is organized, or the
-migrating deer is pursued in boats as he swims across the streams,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</span>
-and is killed in the water; in early winter he is shot from the swift
-sledge. In fact the only method of capture which is not resorted to
-is that of snaring, so common a practice with knavish hunters at
-home; but in all probability the reason for this abstinence is simply
-that the spring-bow is more effective.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f26">
-<img src="images/fig26.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 22.&mdash;The Elk Hunter&mdash;A Successful Shot.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>The elk<a id="FNanchor_35" href="#Footnote_35" class="fnanchor">[34]</a> exists under decidedly more favourable conditions, and
-has a firmer footing in the struggle for existence. Its haunts and
-habits, its strength and power of self-defence, secure it from many,
-if not most pursuers. A forest animal in the full sense of the
-word, as much at home in swamp and bog as in thicket or wood,
-overcoming with equal ease all obstacles of forest and morass,
-assured by the nature of its diet from the scarcity of winter, it
-escapes more readily than any other beast of the chase from
-pursuit either by man or by other dangerous enemies. The latter
-include wolves, lynxes, bears, and gluttons; but it may be doubted
-whether all these beasts of prey together very seriously affect the
-elk. For it is as strong as it is courageous, it has in its sharp
-hoofs even more formidable weapons than its antlers, and it knows
-right well how to use both of them. It may fall victim to a bear who
-surprises and overcomes it; but it undoubtedly hurls a single wolf
-to the ground, and may even be victorious over a pack of these
-eternally hungry creatures. As to lynx and glutton, the old story
-that these are able to leap on the elk’s neck and sever the jugular
-vein does not seem to have been proved. Only against human
-weapons are the elk’s resources ineffective. But its pursuit in
-Siberian forests is a precarious undertaking, and is little practised
-except by the natives. During summer the water-loving beast is
-hardly to be got at; it spends the greater part of the season in the
-marsh, browsing by night and resting by day among the high marsh-plants
-in a place accessible only to itself. The juicy water-plants
-and their roots suit it better than the sharp sedges, and it therefore
-browses in the deeper parts of the bog, where it pulls the plants out
-of the water, dipping its uncouth head in the muddy moisture as
-far as the roots of its donkey-like ears. When it lifts its head it
-blows from its nose and mouth the mud and moisture which necessarily
-entered its nostrils as it grubbed, and this makes a loud
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</span>snorting noise which can be heard from afar. Experienced hunters
-have based a peculiar trick of the chase on the elk’s method of
-feeding. They listen to the usually watchful animal for several
-nights in succession, and mark his whereabouts; thither in the daylight
-they quietly carry a light, shallow-water boat; by night, guided<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</span>
-by the snorting, they row with muffled oars towards the browsing
-creature, whose scent and hearing are dulled by his grubbing; at
-close range they send a bullet through him. The clearness of the
-northern summer night facilitates operations, though it renders
-close approach more difficult; yet the sport is all the more exciting,
-and by eager lovers of the chase it is pursued passionately, and
-usually with success. On the advent of frost the elk leaves the
-swamps, for the brittle coat of ice hinders his movements, and hies
-to the drier parts of the forest until the thickly falling snow forces
-him to wander in search of specially favourable localities. At this
-season the chase of the elk, with well-trained and, above all, silent
-dogs, is preferred to all other sport. In its wanderings the elk does
-not avoid human settlements, and betraying itself by its unmistakable
-footprints, soon has the huntsman on its heels. Now is the
-time to send the dogs after it. Their duty is to keep the creature
-continually agog, but never to chase it. They must never attack it
-in the rear, nor ever come too near it, but must rather bark at
-it continually, and keep its attention unceasingly engrossed. When
-the elk sees itself thus threatened in front it stops after a short
-trot, looks angrily at the dogs, seems trying to make up its mind to
-attack them, but only in rare cases succeeds in carrying out the
-resolution so slowly arrived at, and thus gives the sportsmen time
-to get within easy range, and to take sure aim. If a small herd of
-elk is suddenly surprised by the dogs and driven into a narrow
-defile, they may be so nonplussed that several may fall before a
-well-handled rifle. But when old experienced elks are pursued for
-some time during a heavy snowfall they take the first trodden path
-which they come across, and trot along it whether it lead to the
-recesses of the forest or to the township; thus they are not unfrequently
-led quite close to inhabited houses, on seeing which they
-diverge into the woods. A hard crust of snow is not less dangerous to
-the elks than to the roe-deer; and then the spirited and experienced
-huntsmen pursue them even with boar-spears, speeding along on
-snow-shoes, outrunning and fatiguing the impeded animals till they
-can use the ancient weapons to good effect. The flesh is readily
-eaten both by immigrants and natives, but it has no great market<span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</span>
-value; the skin, on the other hand, finds ready sale at six to eight
-roubles<a id="FNanchor_36" href="#Footnote_36" class="fnanchor">[35]</a> a hide, and affords the professional huntsman sufficient
-recompense for his trouble and exertions.</p>
-
-<p>The wild reindeer belongs strictly to the tundra, but it also
-occurs throughout the whole extent of the forest-zone. Along the
-eastern slopes of the Urals it is frequent both in the depths of the
-forest and on the mountain heights, and the huntsmen of these
-parts accordingly speak with a certain emphasis of forest-reindeer
-and mountain-reindeer, and seem inclined to attribute different
-characteristics to the two kinds, though they cannot define their
-distinctive marks. The reindeer is less shy of populated districts
-than any other deer, which perhaps best explains the fact that
-every year among those living in freedom individuals are captured
-with slit ears and brand-marks. These have probably escaped from
-the herds of the Samoyedes and Ostiaks during the breeding
-season, and have wandered southwards till they met a wild stock
-to which they attached themselves. Once free from bondage, they
-very rapidly assume all the habits of wild life. But neither these
-escaped truants nor the wild forms are regarded by the forest-folk
-as of much moment among the beasts of the chase. Reindeer are
-indeed captured wherever, whenever, or however that may be
-possible; but apart from a few specially keen hunters of Russian
-origin only the natives pursue them with persistence and eagerness.</p>
-
-<p>Excepting the Semites and the Russians, all sensible people
-include hares among edible game. In consequence of this exception,
-the variable hare of Western Siberia is hunted only by educated
-and unprejudiced Siberians of Russian origin, and by the natives of
-the North, who are uninfluenced by any laws of diet. Even the
-skin of the snowy hare, since it loses its fur very readily, has little
-value in the eyes of the huntsman, and perhaps for this reason is
-presented by the heathen peoples as an offering to the gods. Yet
-in spite of the indifference with which the forest-folk regard this
-rodent so highly prized by us, the hare is nowhere plentiful. Many
-perish in the traps; the majority are caught by wolves, foxes, and
-lynxes; and the severe winter, which often impels them to long<span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</span>
-migrations, thins them sadly. The hare is certainly not important
-among the beasts of the chase.</p>
-
-<p>Among the non-edible furred beasts of the forest the first place
-may be given to the wolf, since it is most bitterly hated and most
-generally hunted. For although it is said that the direct injury
-which it does to man is not very considerable, or at any rate
-not insufferable, he misses no opportunity of destroying it. It is
-certain that in West Siberia wolves only exceptionally appear in
-large packs, and that they even more rarely venture to attack man,
-but it is equally certain that they do much damage to domestic
-animals. This is very considerable when we take into account the
-destruction caused by wolves among the herds of the nomads on the
-steppes and the tundra. There is no possibility of computing the
-numbers of wolves in the forest-zone. They are found everywhere
-and yet nowhere; to-day they fall upon the herds of a village, where
-there has been no trace of them for years, and to-morrow they
-ravage the sheepfolds somewhere else; they leave certain districts
-suddenly, and establish themselves in them again just as unexpectedly;
-here they defy their persecutors, and there precautions
-against them are almost superfluous.</p>
-
-<p>Broad, much-used highways and settlements rich in meadows
-attract them, for on the former they find the carcasses of horses, and
-by the latter they find an easy booty in the herds which wander
-unhindered by any herdsman, and often stray far into the woods.
-But they are not absent from those parts of the forest which lie
-beyond the limits of traffic. Sometimes in broad daylight they are
-seen singly or in small packs prowling near the settlements; by
-night they not unfrequently pass through villages or even towns.
-In a single night they destroy dozens of sheep, attack horses and
-cattle also, and more rarely dogs (for which in other countries they
-show a preference). The only animals which they avoid are the
-courageous swine, for here and elsewhere these at once show fight,
-and invariably get the best of it.</p>
-
-<p>Like the Russians, the Siberians hold to the superstition that the
-she-wolf suckling young carefully avoids ravaging in the neighbourhood
-of her litter, but that if she be robbed of her whelps, she avenges<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</span>
-herself terribly, following the robber to his village home, and falling
-with unbounded rage upon all his herds. For fear of this revenge,
-every Siberian passes by any wolf-litter which he finds, and only
-now and then does he dare to cut the Achilles tendon of the whelps,
-thus laming them and keeping them near their birthplace until the
-time of the autumn hunt. For, as they grow up, the mother’s love
-is supposed to disappear, at least her thirst for revenge grows less,
-and the skins of the young wolves caught in autumn reward the
-clever foresight of the cunning peasant.</p>
-
-<p>According to locality and opportunity, the methods employed in
-the capture of the wolf vary greatly. Pitfalls, traps, strychnine,
-and the spring-bows already described do good service; actual
-driving is seldom successful. A favourite method is to pursue the
-wolf with sledges, and to shoot him from the sledge. To attract
-the wolf within range an ingenious device is resorted to. An old,
-steady, or worn-out horse is yoked to a large sledge, in which four
-comrades&mdash;the driver, two marksmen, and a fair-sized sucking-pig&mdash;take
-their places. The driver, whose sole duty is to look after
-his horse, takes the front seat; the marksmen sit behind, and the
-pig lies in a bag between their feet. Towards evening the mixed
-company sets off along a well-beaten road to a part of the forest
-where during the day fresh wolf-tracks were seen. On to the
-track one of the hunters throws a bag stuffed with hay, and fastened
-to the sledge by a long line; while this trails along, the other hunter
-teases the young pig, and makes it squeal. Isegrim hears the
-complaint, and probably thinking that it comes from a young boar
-separated from its mother, draws near quietly and carefully, that is,
-as far as possible hidden from the road. He perceives the bundle
-trailing behind the sledge, supposes this to be the squealing pig,
-and, after some consideration, determines to put an end to its
-sufferings. With a great bound he leaps upon the course, and
-eagerly rushes after the sledge. What does he care for the threatening
-forms which it bears? Such he has often inspected close at
-hand, and robbed before their very eyes. Nearer and nearer he
-comes, gaining on the now quickened sledge; crueller tormenting
-makes the pig utter louder and more clamant squeals; they are<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</span>
-maddening to the robber; just another bound, and&mdash;two rifles ring
-out, and the wolf rolls gasping in death.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f27">
-<img src="images/fig27.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 23.&mdash;A Siberian Method of Wolf-shooting.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Equally artful is the circular trap much used in the Ural
-district. At a short distance from the village a circular space
-about two yards in diameter is enclosed with close-set deep-sunk
-stakes; around this is formed a second similar circle at an
-interval of about a foot and a half from the first. Two specially
-strong posts support a solid deal door moving on firm hinges,
-furnished with a spring-catch, and so arranged that it opens only
-inwards, pressure outwards causing the spring-catch to shut. Both
-circles are roofed over, not thickly, indeed, but firmly, and a trapdoor
-in the roof admits to the inner circle. When it is perceived
-that the wolves are beginning to visit the village by night, the trap
-is set by placing a live goat in the inner enclosure and opening the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</span>
-door of the outer ring. The pitiful bleating of the goat, frightened
-by being taken from his usual surroundings, attracts Isegrim. He
-does not in the least like the look of the strange enclosure, but the
-frantic behaviour of the goat, still more terrified by the wolf’s
-appearance on the scene, makes him forget his habitual caution,
-and he begins to try to get at the welcome booty. Several times
-does he prowl round the outer fence, ever more quickly and eagerly,
-twisting and snuffing, sometimes coming quite near, and again retreating,
-till at last he discovers the only door by which it is possible
-for him to get near the goat. His appetite gets the better of his
-natural cunning. Still hesitating, but yet advancing, he pushes his
-head and body through the narrow doorway. With despairing cries
-the goat springs to the opposite side of the inner fence. Without
-further consideration or hesitation the robber follows. The goat
-rushes round in a circle, and the wolf does the same, with this
-difference, that he has to move between the two rows of stakes.
-Then the projecting door impedes his progress. But the victim is
-now so near, and apparently so sure, that the wolf dashes furiously
-forwards, pressing the door outwards; the spring-catch falls with a
-snap into its groove, and the distrustful, cautious dupe is trapped&mdash;trapped
-without being able to get a step nearer the tempting booty.
-Unable to turn round, boiling over with rage, he runs and trots and
-jumps, ever forwards, ever in a circle, hurrying without a pause on
-his endless circuit. The intelligent goat soon appreciates the situation,
-and though still crying and trembling, remains standing in the middle
-of the inner circle. The wolf also begins to see the fruitlessness of
-his circling, and tries to recover his freedom, tearing splinters a foot
-long out of the stakes with his teeth, howling with rage and fear,
-but all in vain. After a night of torment, the daylight appears&mdash;the
-wolf’s last morning. The villagers begin to move about, and
-voices mingle with the barking of dogs. Dark men, accompanied
-by noisy dogs, approach the scene of the tragedy.
-Motionless, like a corpse, the wolf lies; scarce a wink of his eyes
-betrays that there is still life in him. With furious barking the
-dogs press round the outer fence, but he does not move; with mocking
-welcome the men call to him, but he heeds not. But neither dogs<span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</span>
-nor men are deceived by his shamming death. The former, pressing
-between the stakes, try to get a grip of him; the latter slip the
-much-used horse-noose or <i>arkan</i> over his head. Once more the
-beast springs up, once more he rages on his path of torture, howling
-he seeks to terrify, gnashing his teeth he attempts defiance, but in
-vain&mdash;there is no escape from the dread noose, and in a few minutes
-he is throttled.</p>
-
-<p>The fox is everywhere attacked, hunted, killed, and devoured,
-or at least hard pressed, by the wolf, and is therefore not abundant
-in Siberia, but neither his hostile relative nor man have as yet been
-able to exterminate him. In the eastern parts of the forest-zone
-he sometimes undertakes long migrations, following the hares or
-the grouse; in the west, observations on this point do not appear to
-be recorded. They do not complain in Siberia of the damage he
-does, nevertheless they hunt him eagerly, for his fur is prized by
-natives and Russians alike, and is always dear. It fetches an
-especially high price when it is of a certain much-appreciated
-colour. As a beast of the chase, only the sable takes higher rank.
-For the sake of the fox alone professional hunters undertake winter
-expeditions which often take them as far into the heart of the forest
-as the sable-hunters are wont to penetrate. Especially for it do the
-Ostiaks and Samoyedes set their spring-bows, and they spare no
-trouble in their search for the burrow where the young are hidden,
-not in order to kill them, but that they may rear them carefully
-and tenderly till they become large and strong, and gain, in their first
-or second winter, their beautiful fur. For that the fosterers care
-more than for the life of their winsome charges, and they give them
-over remorselessly to the fatal noose.</p>
-
-<p>The Arctic fox may be included conditionally among the forest
-animals, but it never actually penetrates into the forest. Sometimes,
-however, in winter, in pursuit of hares and moor-fowl, it follows the
-course of the large rivers beyond the southern limits of the tundra,
-its true home.</p>
-
-<p>The lynx, on the other hand, is a forest animal in the strictest
-sense of the word. But in Siberia it only occurs singly, and is very
-rarely captured. Its true home is in the thickest parts in the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</span>
-interior of the forest, and these it probably never leaves except when
-scarcity of food or the calls of love prompt it to wander to the
-outskirts. Experienced hunters of the Eastern Ural say that the
-lynxes not only live in the same locality as the bear, but that they
-remain in the neighbourhood of the bear’s winter-quarters after he
-has gone to sleep. They assert, moreover, that the preference the
-lynxes show for these winter-quarters betrays the bears, since search
-has only to be made where most lynx-tracks cross, and especially
-where there is a circular track, for that always surrounds a bear’s
-sleeping-place. The lynx’s habit of keeping to his old paths with
-almost anxious carefulness must greatly facilitate the discovery of
-the bear’s quarters. Moreover, it may be added that in Siberia the
-lynxes show themselves very fond of fresh meat, and that they
-possibly seek the neighbourhood of a bear in the hope of occasionally
-sharing his booty. For, although it may be urged that the
-lynx is able enough on his own account to bring down big game
-without any help from so doubtful a friend as the bear, and that he
-hunts the reindeer and the roe, and may in a short time overpower
-them, yet the fact remains that his booty chiefly consists of small
-animals, such as hares, ground-squirrels, tree-squirrels, black-cock,
-capercaillie, hazel-grouse, young birds, mice, and the like. Of this
-there is no doubt, and it explains satisfactorily why the lynx is so
-rare in the fringes of the forest which are accessible to man. As
-long as squirrels and game birds abound in the interior of the
-forest, the lynx has no temptation to stray from this unvisited
-wilderness; when his prey migrates, he is forced to follow. How
-much he is feared by the game birds one can discern from the fact
-that every wooing capercaillie or black-cock is instantaneously
-dumb when a lynx lets himself be heard.</p>
-
-<p>Both immigrants and natives hold the hunting of the lynx to
-be right noble sport. This proud cat’s rarity, caution, agility, and
-powers of defence raise the enthusiasm of every sportsman, and
-both skin and flesh are of no small value. The former is preferably
-sent from West Siberia to China, where it fetches a good price; the
-latter, when roasted, is highly esteemed not only by the Mongolian
-peoples but also by most of the Russian settlers. The lynx is but<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</span>
-seldom captured in the fall-traps, but he often renders them useless
-by walking along the beam and stepping on the lever; he is but rarely
-a victim to the spring-bow, and he usually leaps over the steel traps
-in his path. So there is only the rifle left. Only in winter can he be
-hunted, when the snow betrays his tracks and admits of the use of
-snow-shoes. The courageous dogs, having sighted their game, drive
-it with difficulty to a tree or bait it on the ground, but they often
-suffer cruelly, or may even be killed. The hunter himself runs a
-risk of being attacked by a furious lynx at bay.</p>
-
-<p>The wild cat, which the lynx persecutes as pitilessly as the
-wolf does the fox, is absent from the forest-zone of West Siberia,
-but now and then the region is visited by the most perfect of all
-cats,&mdash;the tiger. Two which were killed in 1838 and 1848 at Baesk
-and Schlangenberg now stand stuffed in the museum of Barnaul;
-another, killed in the beginning of the seventies, is preserved in the
-school museum at Omsk. Towards the end of the sixties a tiger
-terrified the inhabitants of the Tschelaba district (on the European
-boundary of the Ural) by attacking, without provocation, a number
-of peasants, from whom it was only frightened off when one of
-the men threw his red cap in its face. In the steppe-mountains of
-Turkestan, and throughout the south of East Siberia, the “king of
-beasts”, as the Daurs call the tiger, is found everywhere and permanently
-in suitable localities, and from both sides it may pass,
-oftener than can be proved, to the western forest-zone, remaining
-perhaps for some time unobserved and retiring unnoticed. Yet on
-the whole it occurs so rarely and irregularly that we cannot do
-more than name it, without reckoning it among the beasts of this
-region.</p>
-
-<p>It is far otherwise with the most precious of the furred beasts,
-the various species of marten. Their decrease is more lamented
-than that of all other beasts of the chase, but most of them are
-still regularly caught, if not everywhere, at any rate in certain parts
-of the forest region. Only the sable has in the last few decennia
-become really rare. Old huntsmen of the middle Ural remember
-having caught sable every winter in the vicinity of Tagilsk; nowadays,
-at this latitude of the mountain-land, only an occasional stray<span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</span>
-specimen is to be met with. A great forest fire in the central part
-of East Ural is said to have driven off the highly-prized and much-hunted
-creature. We hear the same story in the forest villages of
-the lower Ob, where the hunting of the sable is still pursued, and
-yields, for instance, at the Yelisaroff market, about a score of skins
-every winter.</p>
-
-<p>In all the forests of West Siberia the pine-marten is notably more
-abundant than the sable. In the fairly extensive hunting-ground
-around the already-mentioned town of Tagilsk from thirty to eighty
-are still captured every winter. It is said that the pine-marten,
-much more than the sable, is associated with the squirrel, and that
-the two appear and disappear together. But the greedy marten is
-by no means content with making the beautiful squirrel its prey;
-indeed it kills every creature which it can master, and is an especially
-dangerous foe of black-cock and capercaillie. Even in summer
-a clever spring often enables him to capture the watchful bird; while
-in winter the habit the black game birds have of sleeping in holes
-in the snow greatly facilitates his stealthy operations. Sneaking
-almost noiselessly from branch to branch, he comes within springing
-distance of the buried bird, and springs on it from above, crushing
-down the snowy roof by the force of his bound, and seizing
-the sleeper by the neck before it has any chance to escape. The
-stone-marten also occurs everywhere in the mountain forests, but it
-is rarer than its relative. Polecat, ermine, and weasel are also
-widely distributed and locally very abundant; the mink is confined
-to the western side of the Ural, and is also absent from its
-tributaries, the Irtish and Ob, which harbour the otter in considerable
-numbers; the badger is hardly ever mentioned in West Siberia;
-and the universally distributed glutton is less thought of than any
-other of the martens, being hunted not so much for his skin as
-because of his thefts from the traps.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f28">
-<a href="images/fig28big.jpg">
-<img src="images/fig28.jpg" alt="" />
-</a>
-<p class="caption">Fig. 24.&mdash;Sable and Hazel-grouse in a Siberian Forest.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Although the west of Siberia is regarded as altogether over-shot,
-the forest-folk prepare every year to hunt for sable and other martens.
-Some huntsmen undertake expeditions and explorations, which
-compare with those of the North American trappers. Of course, they
-do not confine their attention to martens, but are prepared to bag
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</span>all kinds of game; the main objects of their quest, however, are martens
-and squirrels. According to the time of colour-change in the
-latter the huntsmen arrange their departure from the village home,
-for the change of colour in the squirrels is regarded as an indication
-of the approaching winter, whether it is to be early or late, severe
-or mild.</p>
-
-<p>Armed and equipped as we have already described, the sable-hunters
-set out, after the first snowfall, in companies of three to five.
-Besides gun and ammunition each of them carries a sack on his
-back, snow-shoes and a hatchet on his shoulders, and a whip in his
-girdle. The sack contains the indispensable provisions:&mdash;bread,
-meal, bacon, and “brick-tea”,<a id="FNanchor_37" href="#Footnote_37" class="fnanchor">[36]</a> also a few utensils, such as a pan,
-tea-kettle, drinking-vessel, spoons, and the like, and less frequently
-a flask of spirits. The whip is used to drive out the squirrels and
-to bring them into sight. Four to six dogs, which offend the eye of
-every German sportsman, join the company.</p>
-
-<p>Guided by the sun, which, however, is often hidden for days, and
-by the known stars, the weather-beaten huntsmen traverse the inhospitable
-wilds, camping out at night, feeding themselves and their
-dogs on the flesh of the game they shoot, and sparing their small
-store of provisions as carefully as possible. The ungainly but clever
-and wide-awake dogs not only scent the tracks of game, but, spying
-unfailingly the martens or squirrels hidden on the trees, bark at
-them and keep them in sight till the huntsman is on the spot. He
-approaches with the imperturbable quietness of all forest sportsmen,
-rests his long musket carefully on a branch, or, if need be, on
-the fork fastened to the barrel, takes a slow aim, and fires. At the
-outset of the hunt, the squirrels and even the pine-martens are so
-much disturbed by the dogs that they allow the sportsman to
-approach to within a few yards; soon, however, they become wiser,
-and a sure and steady aim becomes difficult. If the huntsman gets
-this, and succeeds in sending a ball through the animal’s eye, then
-he is well-pleased, for not only has he secured an undamaged skin,
-but he can recover his precious leaden shot. As soon as he has got
-possession of his fallen booty he skins it, in the case of martens
-and squirrels forcing the viscera through the mouth opening. The<span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</span>
-skull is broken open to recover the shot, and skin and body,
-separated from one another, are consigned to the bag.</p>
-
-<p>When squirrels are plentiful, the hunt is as profitable as it is
-entertaining. Everyone utilizes the short day to the utmost; one
-shot quickly follows another; and the pile of skins rapidly grows.
-Loading the gun is a tedious matter, but the skinning is done all
-the more quickly; and every huntsman faithfully does his utmost.
-Without resting, without eating, without even smoking, the huntsmen
-go forward while they may. As the dogs call, the comrades
-draw together or separate; the sharp report of their guns and the
-cheerful barking of the dogs is to them a stimulating entertainment.
-They count the shots, and welcome or envy their neighbours’ luck.
-But if the winter’s yield be a poor one, if the oft-repeated cracking
-of the whip calls forth no squirrel, if there be no tracks of sable
-or noble marten, of elk or reindeer to be seen, huntsmen and dogs
-trudge silently and moodily through the forest, and short commons
-put the finishing touch to their ill-humour.</p>
-
-<p>When night comes on, our sportsmen have to think of preparing
-their beds. From under an old, thick, fallen tree each shovels out
-the snow, makes a trough the size of a man, and kindles a strong
-fire in it. One of them then clears the snow from a circular patch
-as nearly as possible in the middle of all the hollows, and under
-the shelter of thick firs or pines; another gathers fuel; a third
-heaps up in the clearing a still stronger fire, and a fourth prepares
-supper. So many squirrels have been shot that there is no lack of
-strong meat soup with which to give a relish to the porridge and
-bread. The sportsmen have their supper and go shares with the
-dogs, refresh themselves with tea and a pipe made of twisted paper
-and then, after the fashion of their kind, discuss the exploits and
-experiences of the day. Meantime the fire in each hole has melted
-the snow, dried up the moisture, caught hold of the old tree-trunk
-above, and thus thoroughly warmed the chamber. Carefully each
-sleepy hunter pushes the still glowing fragments of wood to one
-end of the hole, and into this, avoiding the side-wall of snow, he
-creeps, calling his dogs after him that they too may share the warm
-bed, and soon he is asleep. It is true that glowing sparks from the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</span>
-smouldering tree-trunk fall throughout the night alike on the
-hunter and his dogs, but a Siberian’s fur hunting-coat can stand as
-much as a Siberian dog’s skin; and it is evident that a log like this
-will give much more heat than a much larger free fire. It is to the
-hole what the stove is to the room; it alone makes it possible for
-the sportsman to camp out in the forest.</p>
-
-<p>In the gray dawn the huntsmen arise refreshed, have breakfast,
-and go on their way. If they reach a good hunting-ground, which
-is visited every winter, they stay as long as they think fit. Here
-and there they find a log-hut built in previous years and still serviceable
-for shelter; in any case there are old and new fall-traps,
-which have to be put in order and visited every morning. This
-takes time, for the traps are often distributed over a wide range,
-and so it may be that the company stay a week or more in one
-part of the forest, and hunt it thoroughly, before they continue
-their wanderings.</p>
-
-<p>On these hunting expeditions many Siberians pass the greater
-part of the winter in the forest. Before he sets out, the huntsman
-usually makes a bargain with a merchant. He promises the merchant
-all the skins he gets at a certain average price, provided the
-merchant will buy all without selection. If the hunter has good
-luck he may, even nowadays, make enough out of it to keep him
-alive, or at least to defray the expenses of the winter; usually, however,
-he has little recompense for his hardships and privations, and
-no one less modest in his demands than the Siberian huntsman could
-make it a means of livelihood.</p>
-
-<p>Hunting the bear is regarded by the West Siberians as the most
-honourable and the most arduous kind of sport. For in this region
-Bruin is by no means the good-natured, simple creature he still is
-here and there in East Siberia; he is rather, as in most regions, a
-rough, uncouth fellow, who usually runs away from man, but who,
-when wounded or driven into a corner, will show fight savagely
-and prove himself exceedingly formidable. In spite of all persecution,
-he is still far from extermination; his occurrence may be spoken
-of as frequent, or, at any rate, as not uncommon. Always and everywhere,
-however, he goes his own way, and does not too often cross<span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</span>
-man’s path. Not that he is shy of human settlements, for he often
-stations himself not far from these, and sometimes falls upon domestic
-animals under the very eyes of their possessors; but he shows
-himself so sporadically that many Siberians have never seen him face
-to face, nor met him in the forest. It seems likely that he goes
-a-touring all the summer. He traverses the woods with a disregard
-of paths, but keeps to more or less beaten tracks when he ascends
-to the heights of the mountains in late summer, or returns to lower
-ground at the beginning of winter. When the corn is ripe, he
-stations himself in the fringes of the forest that he may steal comfortably
-from the adjacent fields; sometimes he leaves the wood
-entirely and visits the steppes, or the mountain-sides with steppe
-characters; he will stay a long time in one district and hurry
-through another without stopping, always and everywhere keeping
-a sharp look-out for the constantly recurring opportunities of securing
-his favourite foods. In most districts he is emphatically a vegetarian;
-here and there he becomes a formidable carnivore; in other
-places he seeks after carrion. In spring he is on short commons,
-and takes what he can get; he sneaks stealthily on the herds grazing
-in the woodland, makes a sudden bound on a victim, or pursues
-it with surprising rapidity, seizes it, drags it to the ground, kills it,
-and, after satiating himself, buries the remainder for a future meal.
-When a cattle plague rages, he visits the burial-places in order to
-secure the carcasses, and he is even accused of being a body-snatcher.
-In summer he plunders the fields of rye, wheat, and oats, robs bee-hives,
-and the nests of wild-bees and wasps, destroys ant-hills for
-the sake of the pupæ, rolls old trunks over to get at the beetles and
-grubs beneath, and even breaks up mouldering trees to capture the
-larvæ which live in rotting wood. In autumn he lives almost exclusively
-on berries of all sorts, and even on those fruits which he can
-gather from such trees as the bird-cherry; when the cembra-cones
-are ripe he goes after these, climbing lofty trees, and breaking off not
-only branches but the very tops; nor can he refrain from persistently
-prowling round the stores in which the cones are temporarily
-collected, or from trying to find his way in. Moreover, at all
-seasons he tries his hand at fishing, and not unfrequently with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</span>
-success. From man he usually runs away, but sometimes he will
-attack him without further ado, not hesitating even at superior
-force. According to the weather he times his winter-sleep. For
-his bed he selects a suitable place under a fallen giant tree; there
-he scrapes out a shallow hole, covers the floor with fine pine-twigs
-and moss a foot and a half deep, cushions the side-walls with the same
-material, covers the outside with branches and pieces of stem, creeps
-into the interior, and allows himself to be snowed up. If the first
-snowfall surprise him on the mountains, he does not always
-descend, but hides in a rock-cave which he furnishes as best he
-can, or else expands a marmot’s burrow till it is just big enough to
-hold him, and there sleeps through the winter. Once sunk into deep
-sleep, he lies dormant so obstinately that many efforts are often
-necessary to rouse him; he bites savagely at the poles with which
-the huntsman tries to poke him up, he growls and roars, and only
-surrenders when rockets or fire-brands are thrown on his refuge.
-Then, if he be not wounded, he rushes forth like a startled boar,
-and seeks safety in rapid flight. According to the consistent
-evidence of all experienced huntsmen, the she-bear brings forth
-young only every second winter, and does not awake from her deep
-sleep until a short time before the birth; she licks her cubs clean
-and dry, sets them to suck, and continues her sleep in snatches. At
-the end of May or in June she seeks out her older children, of two
-or even four years’ growth, and compels them to do service as
-nurses.<a id="FNanchor_38" href="#Footnote_38" class="fnanchor">[37]</a></p>
-
-<p>Although the flesh of the bear is by no means unpalatable, it is
-but little esteemed in West Siberia, where bear-hams are served up
-rather in obedience to fashion than from appreciation of the dish.
-Nevertheless, the bear-hunt brings in rich gain. The skin is in great
-demand for sledge-rugs and fetches a high price; teeth and claws
-serve not only among the Ostiaks and Samoyedes, but also among
-the West Siberian peasants, as potent charms; even the bones are
-now and then used. The canine of a bear slain in honourable
-combat brings to the Ostiak hunter, so he believes, supernatural
-gifts, especially courage, strength, and even invulnerability. A
-claw, especially the fourth of the right fore-foot, which corresponds<span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</span>
-to the ring finger, is prized by the love-lorn maiden of the Ural,
-for the youth whom she secretly scratches with it is bound to
-return her love ardently. Teeth and claws have, therefore, a high
-value, and have more effect in inciting the huntsman to pursue the
-most formidable carnivore of the forest, than any damage which
-Bruin does. But the chase is neither easy nor without danger.
-Traps do not seem to be of any avail. The hunter must seek out
-the bear, and, weapon in hand, helped by his practised dogs, must
-do battle. During the summer the restless habits of the bear make
-the chase very difficult; during winter there is the chance of finding
-a lair and of killing the sleeper in or near it. The poor peasant
-who discovers a lair sells the bear <i>in situ</i> to any well-to-do sportsman,
-who, on a suitable day, goes with him and the requisite
-associates and surrounds the sleeper with sure marksmen. Beaters
-rouse the creature from his slumbers and bring him into view, and
-the huntsman shoots from the nearest possible distance. It is thus
-that the great majority of the bears are secured, and to good shots
-there is little danger. In summer and autumn they track the bear
-with small dogs, and while these bait him on all sides, the sportsman
-seizes a good opportunity for a telling shot. Or he may use
-the bear-spear, as the bold Ostiaks do, and charge the animal. Or
-else he may wind birch-bark several times round his left arm, and,
-holding this as a shield against the angry bear, may plunge a long,
-broad knife into his heart as he snaps at the bark. In these modes
-of attack accidents do, indeed, often happen; but in the course of
-time some hunters become so expert and cold-blooded that they
-prefer the spear or knife to any other weapon. Indeed, a peasant
-girl in the village of Morschowa is famous all over West Siberia for
-having killed more than thirty bears with the knife.</p>
-
-<p>Of undesired encounters with bears many stories are told. A
-hunter, armed only with a pea-rifle, came across a large bear in the
-forest, but did not dare to shoot, knowing that his weapon was
-too small for such big game. He therefore remained still, so as
-not to irritate the bear. But Bruin came along, raised himself,
-snuffed at the huntsman’s face, and then gave him a blow which
-stretched him senseless on the ground. Thereupon the bear ran<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</span>
-away as quickly as possible, just as if he thought that he had
-played a naughty trick. Two Swedes, Aberg and Erland, were
-hunting hazel-grouse on the Urals. The former approached a
-bramble bush in the hope of raising a bird, when to his surprise
-a huge bear jumped up and made for him at once. As flight was
-impossible, Aberg raised his fowling-piece to his shoulder, aimed
-at the bear’s eye, fired, and was fortunate enough to blind him.
-Maddened with the pain, the bear covered the bleeding eye with
-his paw, roared loudly, and rushed on at the undismayed huntsman.
-But the latter coolly took aim at the other eye and fired again
-with equal effect. Then he called for his comrade, and they fired
-alternately at the blinded bear until he was dead.</p>
-
-<p>But the merriest tale had its scene in the village of Tomski Sawod
-in the district of Salair. One of the peasants was leading a load of
-cembra-cones through the forest, and did not notice that the cones
-were falling out of one of his sacks. A bear, who was wandering
-through the forest in the rear of the cart, crossed the road, and
-finding some of the cones looked for more, and followed the track
-unnoticed. After a time the peasant left the horse and cart standing,
-and diverged into the wood to fetch another sack which he had left
-filled with cones. But before he returned with his burden, the
-bear, still gathering cones, had reached the cart and climbed into it,
-there to feast to his heart’s content. With no little dismay the
-peasant perceived as he drew near what passenger had taken possession,
-and not daring to dispute his right, left him with the horse and
-cart. The horse, becoming uneasy, looked back, recognized the
-bear, and forthwith trotted off as fast as he could go. But the
-undesired jolting frightened the bear and prevented him from
-leaping off. He was forced to sit still and hold on, venting his
-increasing discontent in loud roars. The roaring only served to
-increase the pace; the more the bear stormed, the faster the horse
-hastened to the village. Now the village-folk had been for several
-hours expecting a visit from the bishop, and were standing at their
-doors in holiday attire, ready to greet his reverence when he
-appeared. Already sharp-eyed boys had been posted on the outlook
-on the church-tower, with instructions to toll the bells when the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</span>
-bishop’s company came in sight. In the distance was seen a whirling
-cloud of dust; the boys sprang to the bells, men and women
-arranged themselves in rows, the priest appeared with incense
-before the door of the church, every soul stood ready to give a
-worthy reception to the dignitary of the church. On came the
-rattling cart, and right through the festive village tore horse and
-driver, the former covered with dust, sweating and panting, the
-latter roaring and snorting, their mad career only ending when they
-reached the peasant’s yard. Instead of the beautiful Russian psalm,
-the terrified cries of half-senseless women rang out through the air,
-and the men, instead of doing dutiful reverence, rushed about astonished
-and affrighted. Only the church bells continued to peal.
-Before these had ceased, the men had recovered presence of mind
-and got hold of their weapons. The cart was followed, and the
-bear, who seemed to have lost all his wits, was soon stretched dead
-on the throne which he had himself chosen.</p>
-
-<p>Those who know the ways of bears will allow that all might
-have happened as I have described, though we may be inclined to
-regard the humorous story as one of the sportsman’s budget. For
-even the most serious and honourable forest-folk sometimes mingle
-truth and fancy when they tell of the forests and woodcraft of
-Siberia.</p>
-
-
-<hr class="full x-ebookmaker-drop" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="c8">THE STEPPES OF INNER AFRICA.</h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>The north of Africa is desert, must be desert, and will be desert
-for ever. For between the Red Sea and the Atlantic, the land-area
-exposed to the scorching sun is so extensive that the surrounding
-seas have not their usual climatic importance. The Red Sea is out
-of account altogether; even the Mediterranean is too small to have
-great influence, and the Atlantic Ocean affects only a narrow belt
-along the west coast. Over regions so vast and so hot, every cloud
-is dispersed without moistening or fertilizing the parched ground.
-Only when we go much further south, near the equator, do the conditions
-change. On the one side, the Atlantic Ocean sweeps in with a
-great curve; on the other side, the Indian Ocean washes the African<span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</span>
-shores, the two oceans, as it were, stretching their hands across the
-continent. Here, moreover, at certain times, thunder-storms bring
-downpours of rain so heavy that the desert has to give way to the
-more living steppe, and the year is divided into two essentially
-different seasons&mdash;of life and of death, of rain and of drought,
-whereas in the barren desert only the periodic winds bear tidings of
-the seasonal changes in progress elsewhere.</p>
-
-<p>In order to understand the steppe-lands it is necessary to give a
-rapid sketch of their seasons. For every country reflects its dominant
-climate, and the general aspect of a region is in great part an
-expression of the conflicting forces of its seasons, apart from which
-it cannot be understood.</p>
-
-<p>Almost as soon as the rains are over, the season of destruction
-and death begins&mdash;the long and terrible winter of the African
-interior&mdash;a winter which brings about by heat the same dire effects
-as are wrought in the North by cold. Before the sky, hitherto
-often clouded, has become quite clear, some of the trees, which had
-become green in spring, throw off their foliage, and with the wind-swept
-leaves go the wandering birds. These had brooded here in
-the spring, but now they seek other fields. The stems of the
-cereals turn yellow before the rains have ceased; the low grasses
-wither and dry. The intermittent water-courses cease to have any
-flow; the rain-filled pools are dried up; and not only the reptiles
-and amphibians, but even the fishes peculiar to them, are forced to
-burrow and seek winter-quarters in the damp clay. The seeds of
-plants, and the eggs or larvæ of insects are also hidden away in the
-earth.</p>
-
-<p>As the sun travels to the north, the winter sets in rapidly.
-Autumn lasts but for a few days. It causes no withering nor
-gradual death of leaves, no glow of red and gold such as we see
-at home, but exercises, through its hot winds, such a destructive
-power that the leaves are dried up like mown grass under the sun’s
-rays, and either fall to the ground green, or crumble away on the
-stalk, so that the trees, with few exceptions, assume their winter
-aspect with extreme suddenness. Over the plains, on which, a few
-days before, the tall grass still waved in the wind, dust clouds<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</span>
-now whirl; in the partially or wholly dried up water-courses
-and water-basins the ground gapes in deep cracks. Everything
-that is pleasing vanishes; everything that is unpleasing becomes
-painfully obtrusive: leaves and flowers, birds and butterflies
-fade away, or migrate, or die; thorns, spines, and burs are left;
-snakes, scorpions, and “tarantulas” have their heyday. Indescribable
-heat by day and enervating sultriness by night make
-this season almost unbearable, and against neither heat nor sultriness
-is there any remedy. The torments are inconceivable to
-those who know nothing of such weather, when the thermometer
-registers up to 122° Fahr. in the shade;<a id="FNanchor_39" href="#Footnote_39" class="fnanchor">[38]</a> when one is in a constant
-sweat, yet without being conscious of it, so drying is the heat;
-when one cloud of dust after another whirls up to heaven,
-or parching thirst weighs on one like lead. Nor can anyone
-who has not groaned through these nights, when one tosses on
-the couch, prevented by the sultriness from resting or sleeping,
-adequately sympathize with the torments to which men and animals
-are subjected at this season. Even the sky exchanges its hitherto
-but rarely clouded blue for a dun colour, for the vapour often hides
-the sun for half a day at a time, yet without diminishing the oppressive
-heat; indeed the sultriness seems to increase when the horizon
-is obscured by such mists. One day follows another without any
-refreshing of body or soul. No cooling breeze from the north fans
-the forehead; and the soul is not refreshed by any fragrance of
-flowers, or song of birds, or enchanting pictures with bright colour
-and deep shade, such as the flooding light of heaven elsewhere paints
-in the equatorial regions. Everything living, everything coloured,
-everything poetical, is gone, sunk into death-like sleep&mdash;too dismal
-to awaken any fancy. Men and beasts seem to wither as the grass
-and leaves withered; and like them many a man and many a beast
-sinks down for ever. In vain does manly courage endeavour to
-bear up under the burden of these days: the most resolute will give
-way to sighs and moans. Every piece of work fatigues, even the
-lightest covering is too heavy, every movement is an effort, every
-wound becomes a virulent sore.</p>
-
-<p>But even this winter must at length yield to spring, yet the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</span>
-incoming of this season also is terrible. For the same wind, which,
-in the desert, becomes the simoom, raises its wings as herald of the
-spring. It rages through the fissures in the ground, sweeps out
-more dust, whirls it aloft in thick masses, and builds it into wall-like
-clouds, which it drives roaring and howling through the land, and
-forces through the latticed windows of the comfortable town-houses
-as well as through the low doorways of the native huts, adding a
-new plague to the existing torments. At last the wind gains complete
-mastery and exerts its force without restraint, as though it
-would annihilate everything that still resisted; but it is this same
-wind that, farther south, piles up the clouds heavy with rain, and
-sweeps them towards the scorched land. Soon it seems as if the
-sultriness began to grow less oppressive as the wind gathered
-strength; it seems even as if it sometimes blew no longer hotly but
-refreshingly. And this is no deception; the spring is preparing for
-its coming, and on the wings of the storm the rain-clouds are borne.
-In a short time, in the south, they darken the dome of heaven; in a
-few days quivering flashes lighten the dull cloud-banks; in a few
-weeks the distant thunder heralds the life-giving rain.</p>
-
-<p>Then all the streams from the south rise and surge and overflow.
-They are scarcely yet turbid, but they have life now; they continue
-to rise, and through all the deeper rents and fissures of their muddy
-banks the life-giving moisture is diffused into the adjacent country.
-The birds of passage begin to appear, and day by day their numbers
-increase. To the lands of the Upper Nile the storks return to take
-possession of their old nests on the conical straw huts of the natives,
-and with them comes the sacred ibis to perform to-day the duty
-which has been his for thousands of years,&mdash;to be the messenger and
-herald assuring all that the old Nile-god will again open the fountain
-of his mercy, and pour forth his horn of blessing on the lands
-which own his sway.</p>
-
-<p>At length the first thunder-storm draws near. Sultriness more
-painful than ever oppresses the dead, scorched land. An eerie stillness
-fills man and beast with uneasiness. Every song, nay, almost
-every voice of birds is hushed, and they hide themselves amid the
-thickest foliage of the evergreens. In the camp of the nomad<span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</span>
-herdsmen, in the village, in the town, all life seems as if under a
-spell. The dogs, usually so lively, slink quietly away to some safe
-hiding-place; the other domestic animals become uneasy or else wild,
-the horses have to be hobbled, and the cattle are driven into the pen.
-In town, the merchant closes his stall, the artisan his workshop, the
-officials their divan; everyone takes refuge at home. And yet not
-a breeze stirs the air; there is not a rustle among the leaves of the
-few trees which still have foliage. But everyone knows that the
-storm is gathering and is drawing near.</p>
-
-<p>In the south is built up a great wall of cloud, dark and at the
-same time lurid, like the fire-cloud over a burning town or over a
-forest in flames. Fiery red, purple, dark red, and brown, dull yellow,
-deep blue, and black seem to move in a dance of colour; they
-mingle and separate; they fade into the darkness and appear again
-in vivid prominence. The great cloud-bank rests upon the earth
-and reaches up to the heavens; now it seems to stand still, and now
-it rushes on like a tempest; from minute to minute it narrows the
-range of vision; more and more completely it throws an impenetrable
-shroud over all. A whistling, hissing sound issues from it,
-but around the observer all is still, quiet, and noiseless.</p>
-
-<p>Then suddenly a brief and violent blast of wind bursts forth.
-Strong trees bend before it like weak reeds; the slender palms bow
-down their crowns. With ever-increasing rapidity one blast follows
-another; the wind becomes a tempest, and the tempest a hurricane,
-raging with unexampled fury. Its noise is so terrible that the
-spoken word does not reach the speaker’s ear; every other sound is
-drowned and lost. It rages and roars, blusters and hisses, pipes and
-howls, rumbles and rattles, in the air, along the ground, among the
-tops of the trees, as if all the elements were in battle, as if the
-heavens were falling, as if the very foundations of the earth itself
-were being shattered. The irresistible storm dashes against the
-trees, and tears off half of the leaves, if there are any left; while
-stems as thick as a man’s waist are snapped like brittle glass. Breaking
-off the crowns, the hurricane whirls them like light balls over
-the plain, and buries them head downwards in the loose earth or
-sand, with the miserable fragment of trunk sticking up, a prey to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</span>
-the destructive termites.<a id="FNanchor_40" href="#Footnote_40" class="fnanchor">[39]</a> Hungrily the wind rushes through the
-clefts and fissures of the earth, sweeps out dust, sand, and gravel,
-hurls this even into the clouds, and bears it onwards with such
-force that it recoils stinging and rattling from hard surfaces. With
-this dust the tempest hides the heavens and covers the earth, and
-turns the day into dread night, while the anxious inhabitants in
-their dust-filled houses light lanterns to gain what encouragement
-and consolation they may from the sight of living flame.</p>
-
-<p>But even the roaring hurricane may be out-roared. The crashing,
-rumbling thunder is yet more mighty; it drowns the howling
-and bellowing of the wind. The clouds of dust are still too thick
-to allow the lightning flashes to be seen; but soon to the confusion
-of sounds and noises a hitherto unheard rattling is added, and the
-unnatural night begins to be relieved by gleams of light. It seems
-as if heavy hailstones were rattling down, but they are only rain-drops
-which bear with them in falling the up-whirled dust and sand.
-Now the flashes are seen. One follows so quickly upon another that
-we are forced to close our dazzled, well-nigh blinded, eyes, and to
-follow the storm only by listening to the uninterrupted roll of the
-thunder. The downpour becomes a cloud-burst; from the hills the
-water rushes down everywhere in streams; in the hollows it forms
-lakes; in the valleys there are rivers in flood. For hours the downpour
-continues, but with the coming of the rain the tempest abates,
-and a fresh cooling breeze refreshes man and beast and plant.
-Gradually the flashes become fewer and the peals of thunder less
-violent, the rain-spout becomes a shower, and this ends in a gentle
-drizzle; the sky clears, the clouds scatter, and the sun breaks forth
-in splendour. Mirthfully the brown children, naked as they were
-born, run out from the houses and huts to bathe in the pools which
-the spring rain has filled; and not less gladly do the reptiles,
-amphibians, and fishes rise from their muddy beds. Even the first
-night after the rain one hears everywhere the clear, loud voice of a
-little frog, of whom one saw nothing before, for he, like some of the
-crocodiles, many turtles, and all the fishes, had sought winter-quarters
-deep in the mud bottom of the periodically dried-up lakes,
-and had just been awakened by the first spring rain.<a id="FNanchor_41" href="#Footnote_41" class="fnanchor">[40]</a></p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</span></p>
-
-<p>Everywhere the newly-awakened life arises in strength. The
-thirsty earth eagerly sucks in the moisture which has been bestowed
-upon her; but after a few days the heavens again open their flood-gates
-and a fresh supply of rain awakens any germs which are still
-slumbering. A second thunder-storm causes the buds to burst on
-all the trees which shed their leaves, and liberates the sprouting
-grasses from the ground. A third downpour of rain calls forth
-blossoms and flowers, and clothes the whole land in luxuriant
-green. Magical as spring’s coming is the subsequent rush of life.
-What with us requires a month here completes its life-cycle in a
-week; what develops but slowly in temperate zones here unfolds
-itself in days and hours.</p>
-
-<p>But within a few weeks the spring is once more past; the hardly
-distinguishable summer follows in the annual pageant; and is as
-rapidly succeeded by the short autumn; so that, strictly speaking,
-all three&mdash;spring, summer, and autumn&mdash;make but one season.
-Again the destructive winter is at the doors, and prevents that
-continuous germinating, growing, and flourishing which is possible
-in other equatorial countries where the water-supply is more
-abundant. Here, however, the rainfall is at least sufficient to keep
-the barren desert from gaining the mastery, and to spread a more
-or less rich carpet of vegetation over the ground&mdash;in other words, to
-produce steppe-land instead of desert.</p>
-
-<p>I use the word steppe to designate those lands peculiar to the
-interior of Africa which the Arabs call “Chala”, which means
-“lands bearing fresh green plants”. It is true that the chala is as
-little like the steppes of South Russia and Central Asia as the
-prairies of North America, or the pampas or llanos of South
-America, yet in certain important respects it does resemble the first-named,
-so that I need scarcely make any excuse for preferring a
-known to an unknown term. The steppe extends over the whole
-interior of Africa, from the Sahara to the Karroo,<a id="FNanchor_42" href="#Footnote_42" class="fnanchor">[41]</a> from east coast
-to west, surrounding all the high mountains and enclosing all the
-extensive virgin forests which stretch on their slopes, or occupy in
-greater luxuriance the low grounds where water is plentiful. In
-fact it includes all the lands in the heart of Africa, beginning a few<span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</span>
-hundred paces beyond the last house of the towns, and directly
-behind the last houses of the villages; it includes the fields of the
-settlers, and supports the flocks of the nomads. Where the desert
-ends to the south, where the forest ceases, where the mountain
-flattens, there is steppe-land; where the forest is destroyed by fire,
-the steppe first gains possession of the clearing; where men abandon
-a village the steppe encroaches, and in a few years destroys every
-trace of habitation; where the farmer relinquishes his fields the
-steppe impresses its character upon them in the space of a year
-or two.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f29">
-<img src="images/fig29.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 25.&mdash;The Bed of an Intermittent River, Central Africa.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Inhospitable and monotonous the steppe seems to one who sees
-it for the first time. A wide, often immeasurable plain stretches
-before his eye; only exceptionally is this interrupted by isolated
-conical hills, yet more rarely do these unite to form mountain ranges.
-More frequently, low, undulating hills alternate with flat valleys;
-or sometimes they combine in a strange mazy network of ranges<span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</span>
-which enclose deep-sunk basins, where pools, ponds, and lakes are
-formed during the rainy season, while during winter the clayey soil
-is rent with thousands of fissures. In the deepest and longest
-depressions there is, instead of standing water, a “Chôr” or rain-torrent,
-that is to say, a water-course which even in the spring is
-only occasionally in flow, but which, under specially favourable
-circumstances, may be flooded to the brim in a few hours, and does
-not merely flow, but rushes&mdash;a moving wall of water&mdash;hissing and
-thundering down the valley, often, however, disappearing before it
-reaches a true river. Except where there are these water-basins
-and water-courses, a relatively rich vegetation covers the whole
-surface of the steppe. Grasses of various kinds, from lowly plants
-which creep along the ground to great cereal-like stems as tall as a
-man, form the basis of the vegetation. Trees and shrubs, especially
-mimosas, baobabs, doum-palms, and christ-thorns, combine
-here and there, especially near the water, to form thickets or groves,
-but elsewhere they are but sparsely scattered amid the grasses
-which so uniformly cover the flats, and it is only at a few spots
-that they form even a thin wood. Never do the trees show vigour
-of growth like that seen in the valleys with true river courses,
-where the blessings of spring are always retained; on the contrary,
-they are often stunted, usually low and with scraggy crowns with
-rarely even a twiner struggling upwards. They all suffer from the
-severity of the long torrid winter, which hardly allows them to
-gain subsistence, and keeps off almost all parasitic plants. It is
-different with the grasses which, in the short but abundantly moist
-spring, shoot up luxuriantly, bloom, and ripen their seeds, and in
-fact attain to a thoroughly vigorous life. To them the monotonous
-aspect of the steppe is in great part due, for, humble as they are,
-they obliterate many of the contrasts which would otherwise be
-apparent, and the uniformity of their colouring becomes oppressively
-wearisome. Not even man succeeds in introducing variety
-into this eternal sameness, for the fields which he tills in the midst
-of the grass-land seem from a distance so like their surroundings
-that one can scarce distinguish grain from grass. Even the round
-huts made of slender stakes, with conical roofs thatched with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</span>
-steppe-grass, are, in the dry season at least, so closely congruent
-with the surrounding flats that one must come very near before
-one sees that they are there. Only the seasons can change the
-sameness of the picture, and even they do not remove much of its
-monotony.</p>
-
-<p>Inhospitable, too, is the reception which awaits the traveller in
-the steppe. Perched on a camel he rides through the fields. Some
-game or other invites him to the chase, and induces him to penetrate
-into the grass-forest. Then he finds out that between the
-apparently smooth grasses there grow plants much more formidable
-than the thorny mimosas. On the ground flourishes the “tarba”,
-whose seed-capsules are so sharp that they cut through the soles of
-light riding-boots; above it grows the “essek”, whose burrs insinuate
-themselves almost inextricably into all clothing; and somewhat
-higher the “askanit” rises, most formidable of the three, for its
-fine prickles are loosened by the slightest touch, and, penetrating
-one’s clothes, bore into the skin and cause ulcerations small enough
-individually, but in their incomputable numbers most oppressive.
-These three plants make any prolonged sojourn or extensive exploration
-impossible, and are such a torture to man and beast that
-one can readily understand why the natives always carry, as an
-indispensable instrument, a fine pair of pincers. As among the
-monkeys, the greatest kindness which one man can do his neighbour
-is to pull out the fine, hardly-visible, needle-like spines from his
-skin. Apart from the three formidable antagonists which we have
-mentioned, most of the other steppe-plants, especially the trees and
-shrubs, are covered with more or less repellent thorns and spines, as
-one soon discovers if one tries to penetrate a thicket or even comes
-to close quarters with a tree.</p>
-
-<p>Other even more unpleasant characteristics of the steppes make
-themselves felt at night. It is often necessary to ride for days
-without reaching a village, and one must therefore camp out on the
-plain. A suitable sandy place free from obnoxious plants is sought
-out, the beasts are unloaded and hobbled, a bed is made by spreading
-a mat on the ground, and a huge fire is lighted to scare off
-beasts of prey. The sun goes down, and a few minutes later the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</span>
-night falls on the steppes; only the fire lightens the camp. But by
-the fire and about the couch things soon become lively. Attracted
-by the light, noxious creatures come running and creeping, first one
-and then another, but soon in tens and in hundreds. First appear
-gigantic spiders, which, with their eight legs spread out, cover a
-surface as large as an outstretched hand. After the spiders, or sometimes
-along with them, the scorpions come hurrying. Both spiders
-and scorpions rush with sinister rapidity to the fire, clambering
-over carpet and coverlet, among the dishes of our simple supper,
-retreating when the radiating heat becomes too strong for them,
-turning back again under its mesmeric influence&mdash;in truth a fearsome
-invasion. For these spiders, with their dangerous, or at least
-painful bites, are not less dreaded than the scorpions, and they are
-as ready to bite as the scorpions are to sting. Angrily we seize
-another instrument which an experienced traveller had forewarned
-us was indispensable&mdash;a long-legged pair of tongs, and with these
-we grip as many of the intruders as possible, and throw them
-without mercy into the crackling fire. By the united efforts of the
-party most of the hellish brood are soon in the flames; their successors
-are similarly treated, until the invasion slackens, and we
-begin to breathe&mdash;but it is too soon! For new and more uncanny
-visitors draw near the fire&mdash;venomous snakes, apparently fascinated
-like the spiders. Among them the naturalist recognizes as
-the most abundant species an exceedingly interesting creature well
-deserving his attention: it is the sandy-yellow horned viper, the
-famous or infamous Cerastes of the ancients, the Fi engraved on so
-many Egyptian monuments, the asp from whose fangs Cleopatra
-sought death.<a id="FNanchor_43" href="#Footnote_43" class="fnanchor">[42]</a> It may be interesting to the zoologist, but the
-wearied traveller consigns it to the depths of hell. The whole
-company becomes lively when this visitor is announced; everyone
-seizes his tongs with much greater haste and anxiety than before.
-Whoever sees the snake approaches it cautiously, grips it behind
-the neck, presses the tongs firmly lest it escape, and throws it into
-the glowing fire. There its destruction is watched with no small
-satisfaction. In many parts of the steppe these vipers drive one
-almost to despair. Thanks to their scaly coat, whose markings correspond
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</span>to a jot with the sandy soil, thanks also to their habit of burying
-themselves during the day, or during their resting hours, with
-only their short tactile horns protruding from the sand, one usually
-searches for them in vain during daylight. But as soon as night
-comes, and the camp-fire burns brightly, they are unmistakably
-on the spot, coiling and hissing all around. Sometimes they appear
-in terrifying numbers and keep the tired traveller awake till
-towards midnight, for all those which have been resting within the
-range of the fire, or have been attracted to it on their nocturnal
-rambles, come gliding towards the flames. At last, wearied out
-and heavy with sleep, we throw down the tongs and betake ourselves
-to bed, but we never know how many of the reptiles will
-come creeping over us in the night, and we often discover evidence
-of their visits when the carpet is lifted in the morning. For under
-its folds one or more may be found lurking, or may be seen quickly
-disappearing into the sand. Little wonder that it was on this
-steppe-land that I first became impressed with the fact, which no
-one had at that time stated, that, with few exceptions, the venomous
-snakes, and certainly all the vipers and crotaline snakes, are
-nocturnal in habit.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f30">
-<a href="images/fig30big.jpg">
-<img src="images/fig30.jpg" alt="" />
-</a>
-<p class="caption">Fig. 26.&mdash;Hills of African Termites, or White Ants.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>But the above-mentioned animals do not by any means complete
-the list of those which are troublesome in the steppe. There is one,
-among the smallest of all, which, though giving no direct cause for
-anxiety as far as life is concerned, is of immense importance in
-relation to the property of these who live or travel in this region.
-I mean the termite, a little insect not unlike an ant, which, in spite
-of its minuteness, does more damage than the voracious locust (still
-able to constitute a plague), and may work more destruction than
-a troop of elephants devastating the fields. It is one of the most
-omnipresent and persistent of injurious insects. Whatever the
-vigour of plant life creates will fall before the sharp jaws of the
-termites, and they are not less unsparing of the products of human
-art and industry. High above the grass-forest of the steppe they
-rear their conical earthen towers; on the ground and on the trees
-they make their tunnels and passages. They begin and end their
-destructive work at night or in darkness. First they cover the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</span>
-object of their attack with a crust of earth which shuts out the
-light, and under this cover they go about their work, whose end
-and object is always destruction. Things lying on the ground or
-hung on mud walls are most likely to be attacked. The careless
-traveller, oppressed by the overpowering sultriness, throws one of
-his garments on the ground which forms his bed, and finds it in
-the morning perforated like a sieve and rendered quite useless!
-The naturalist who is unaware of the ways of the land shuts up
-his hard-won spoils in a wooden box, and neglects to place this
-on stones or the like so as to raise it off the ground; in a few
-days his treasures are gone! The sportsman hangs his rifle on
-a clay wall, and discovers to his disgust that the destructive
-insects have covered butt and barrel with their tunnels, and have
-already gnawed deep channels in the stock. The tree which they
-select is lost; the woodwork of houses in which they effect a
-settlement is doomed. From the ground to the highest branches
-they make their covered ways; they eat through stem, branches,
-and twigs, and leave but a dead honey-combed skeleton, which becomes
-the prey of the first storm, and is scattered abroad in dust.
-On the earth-walls or on the supporting beams of the houses the
-termites likewise ascend, riddling the woodwork, and in a short
-time making a wreck of everything. Even under the firmly
-stamped floors of the better-class houses they form a maze of
-branched burrows whence they occasionally break forth in millions
-bent on destruction. In these and many other ways they work
-ruin, and are among the most troublesome plagues of the interior
-of Africa, and especially of the steppe-land.<a id="FNanchor_44" href="#Footnote_44" class="fnanchor">[43]</a></p>
-
-<p>Did this region offer nought else, were it not one of the most
-thickly populated and most frequented of animal haunts, the naturalist
-would perhaps avoid it as carefully as does the mercantile
-traveller, who knows only its repellent aspects and none of its
-attractions.</p>
-
-<p>But he who sojourns here for a time and really explores the
-region is soon reconciled. For the steppe abounds in life; it is not
-poor like the desert, but rather rich like the primitive forest. For
-it too shelters a fauna abounding alike in species and in individuals,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</span>
-and including many forms which are regarded as distinctive of this
-geographical region. Of some of these we shall give rapid sketches.</p>
-
-<p>Among the most remarkable steppe animals are those fishes
-found in the water-courses and water-basins which are only periodically
-filled. Even Aristotle speaks of fishes which burrow in the
-mud when the pools are dried up, and though Seneca sought to
-throw ridicule on the statement by suggesting scoffingly that one
-should henceforth go a-fishing not with hook and line but with pick
-and shovel, Aristotle recorded a fact which is beyond either doubt
-or ridicule.</p>
-
-<p>The mud-fish,<a id="FNanchor_45" href="#Footnote_45" class="fnanchor">[44]</a> which lives in the steppe basins and streams in the
-interior of Africa, is an eel-like creature, about 3 feet in length,
-with a long dorsal fin continuous with that of the tail, with two
-narrow pectoral fins far forward, and two long pelvic fins far back,
-and with this most important characteristic, that, besides the gills,
-there are also functional lung-sacs. This remarkable connecting
-link between fish and amphibian lives, even in the wet season, more
-in the mud than in the water, and likes to hide in holes which it
-seems to dig out for itself. When the supply of water threatens to
-disappear, the fish burrows deeply in the mud, rolls itself into the
-smallest possible bulk, and forms, apparently by frequent turning,
-an air-tight capsule, shut in on all sides, and lined internally with
-mucus. Within this the animal remains motionless throughout the
-winter. If we carefully dig out these capsules and pack them well,
-we can send the fish without risk where we please, and it may be
-readily recalled to life by placing the capsule in lukewarm water.
-As the reviving water soaks in, the creature still remains quiet, just
-as if it were heavy with sleep; but in the course of an hour or so it
-becomes quite lively, and in a few days its voracious hunger also
-awakes. For some months its behaviour remains unaltered, but at
-the season when it prepares in its native haunts for winter-sleep, it
-seeks to do the same in captivity, or at least becomes restless, and
-secretes an extraordinary quantity of mucus. If opportunity be
-afforded, it burrows; if not, it soon masters its inclination, and continues
-to thrive as before in the open water.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f31">
-<img src="images/fig31.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 27.&mdash;Secretary-bird and Aspis.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Sheat-fish or siluroids also pass the winter in the steppe as the
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</span>mud-fish does. The amphibians too, along with some reptiles,
-especially water-turtles and crocodiles, burrow in the mud, and
-wile away the deadly winter in sleep. On the other hand, all the
-terrestrial reptiles are at their liveliest throughout the torrid season,
-and contribute not a little to enliven the dreary steppe which they
-inhabit in extraordinary numbers. Besides the vipers which we
-have already mentioned, there is another venomous snake of the
-steppe&mdash;the royal Aspis or Uräus&mdash;one of the deadliest of all.<a id="FNanchor_46" href="#Footnote_46" class="fnanchor">[45]</a> It
-was with this creature, more famous or infamous than the horned<span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</span>
-viper, that Moses juggled before Pharaoh, as the snake-charmers
-still do; the same, too, whose image in gold the ancient kings of
-Egypt wore as a diadem to express their irresistible power, and
-which they used in the punishment of criminals, or in executing
-revenge on enemies,&mdash;a creature in regard to which the old authors
-tell many gruesome, and not always untrue, tales. In contrast to
-other venomous snakes it is active during the day; when unexcited
-it looks very harmless, but it is extremely agile, irritable, and bold,
-and combines all the qualities which render venomous serpents
-dangerous. Usually unseen, for its colour closely resembles that
-of the sand and the withered grass, it glides, often with uncanny
-rapidity, through the grass-forest, conscious of its terrible weapons,
-and ready for attack whenever it fancies danger. In attitude of
-defence it raises the anterior fifth or sixth of its body, and expands
-the neck ribs so as to form a sort of shield, above which lies the
-small head, with lively sparkling eyes. It fastens its sharp gaze on
-its opponent, and prepares for the bite which is quick as lightning
-and almost without exception fatal. Then its appearance is dreadful
-but yet beautiful, bewildering and terrifying to man and beast.
-It is generally asserted that this snake may kill without biting, by
-spitting or shooting its venom at its enemy;<a id="FNanchor_47" href="#Footnote_47" class="fnanchor">[46]</a> and it is at any rate
-true that the poison-glands secrete the dread juice so copiously that
-great drops trickle from the openings of the perforated fangs.
-Little wonder that both natives and Europeans are much more
-afraid of this asp than of the sluggish horned viper which visits their
-bed by night. Nor is it difficult to understand why the stranger
-fires at every snake, even the most harmless, which comes within
-his sight, or why every rustling in the grass or foliage gives one a
-slight shock, or at least induces careful circumspection. But the
-rustling is continually to be heard in the steppe, for there are many
-other snakes no less common than the asp&mdash;many, from the huge
-python or hieroglyphic snake, sometimes nearly twenty feet in
-length, down to harmless grass-snakes of minute size. Besides
-these there is a countless host of lizards of all kinds.</p>
-
-<p>Whoever has a horror of snakes may perhaps be reconciled to
-the class of reptiles by the agile, beautifully-coloured lizards, for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</span>
-creatures more attractive than these are not to be found in the
-steppe. They dart to and fro on the ground; they clamber on the
-branches of the shrubs and trees; they look down from the hills of
-the termites and from the roofs of the houses; they make their way
-even under the sand. Some species vie with the humming-birds
-in the brightness and glitter of their colours; others fascinate by
-the swiftness and grace of their movements; others attract by
-the quaintness of their forms. Even after the sun, in whose light
-they live and move, has set, and most of these active creatures
-have gone to rest, the geckos are still left to the naturalist. During
-the day these lizards remain quietly fixed to the tree-boles and the
-rafters, but as night sets in they begin their activity. With loud
-and musical calls (to which they owe their name “Gecko”) they hunt
-about without any fear of man. The ancients libelled them and
-placed them among the most venomous of animals, and even to-day
-this superstition lurks in the minds of the ignorant. They are nocturnal
-animals, and as such somewhat different from the diurnal
-members of the lizard race. Thus one of their peculiar characteristics
-is the cushion-like expansion of the fingers and toes, whose soles
-are furnished with numerous closely appressed plaits of skin, which
-act like suckers and give the geckos extraordinary climbing powers.
-These plaited cushions were long ago erroneously interpreted as
-poison-secreting glands,&mdash;an idea which now seems absurd enough.<a id="FNanchor_48" href="#Footnote_48" class="fnanchor">[47]</a>
-In truth the geckos are as harmless as they are attractive, and in a
-very short time they win the affection of every unprejudiced observer.
-Most valuable domestic pets they are, for they pursue with
-eagerness and success all kinds of troublesome insects. In every room
-of the mud and straw houses their nightly activity may be observed;
-they climb about with all but unfailing security, adhering by their
-plaited feet to almost anything; head up or head down they run on
-vertical or on horizontal surfaces, teasing and chasing one another
-in pleasant fashion, making one merry too with their musical notes;
-they give one nothing but pleasure and do nothing but good; what
-reasonable man can fail to become their friend?</p>
-
-<p>But they are reptiles still, and must remain under the curse;
-they cannot vie with the children of the air&mdash;the birds. And one<span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</span>
-may perhaps say that the birds are the first creatures to make a
-thoroughly favourable impression on the visitor to the steppe, and
-to reconcile him to the forbidding aspects of other animals.</p>
-
-<p>The bird-fauna of the steppes is rich alike in species and in
-individuals. Wherever we wander we are sure to hear and see
-birds. From the densest forest of grasses resounds the loud call
-of a bustard; from the thickets by the water-courses is heard the
-trumpeting of the guinea-fowl or the loud cry of the francolin;
-from the trees comes a medley of sound&mdash;the cooing and moaning
-of the doves, the shouts and hammering of the woodpecker, the
-melodious call of the barbets, the simple music of various weaver-finches
-and thrush-like songsters. The high branches of trees or
-other prominent positions serve as watch-towers for serpent-eagles,
-chanting goshawks, rollers, drongos, and bee-eaters, which sit there
-on the outlook for prey. The secretary-bird, which the natives call
-the Bird of Fate, runs about among the tall grass stems or hovers
-above them; in higher strata of the air one sees the whirling swallows
-and other birds which catch their prey on the wing; higher still
-the eagles and vultures are circling. No spot is untenanted, in fact
-almost every place is thickly peopled; and when our winter begins
-to reign it sends hither many of our birds, especially kestrels and
-harriers, shrikes and rollers, quails and storks, who find in the
-steppe a hospitable refuge during the evil days in the north.</p>
-
-<p>Few of the birds which live in the steppes can be regarded as
-distinctive, nor is the general character of the bird-fauna so clearly
-and sharply defined that one could at once recognize a steppe bird,
-as is possible with those of the desert. To some extent, however,
-the careful observer will notice that the birds of the steppe are
-congruent with their environment. The secretary-bird&mdash;a great
-bird of prey in the guise of a crane; the “snake-harrier”&mdash;a sluggish,
-slow-flying hawk clothed in rich, soft, large-feathered plumage; a
-straw-yellow night-jar, and another with decorative wing-feathers,
-a guinea-fowl or a francolin, a bustard or an ostrich: of these
-we might perhaps venture to say that they belong to the steppe,
-and are only there at home. It is not the case that the steppe is
-richer in colour than the desert, but it affords much more cover, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</span>
-its tenants are therefore more freely coloured and marked. There
-are two colours to which it seems as if a preference were given; the
-one is a more or less shaded straw-yellow, the other is a hardly
-definable gray-blue. Both appear on the plumage of birds of prey
-and game-birds alike, but without, of course, excluding other darker,
-lighter, or more vivid colours. It seems to me worthy of note that
-the greater freedom of colouring and marking is also observable on
-those birds whose near relations are characteristic of the desert.</p>
-
-<p>We should like to give a more detailed description of some of
-the steppe birds which are most distinctive of the region, but selection
-is difficult, for almost every one of those which we have mentioned
-claims and merits close attention. But my limits force me
-to a choice, and it must suffice if I select a bird of the upper air, a
-bird of the ground, and a bird of the night, in order through them
-to add a few touches to our general picture of the steppe.</p>
-
-<p>No one who stays for any length of time in the steppe-land can
-fail to observe a large bird of prey, whose appearance as he flies,
-owing to the beautiful contour of the long pointed wings and exceedingly
-short tail, mark him off from every other feathered
-robber, whose flight moreover surpasses that of all creatures which
-fly. High above the ground he flies, hovers, glides, tumbles,
-flutters, dances, and throws himself headlong. As large as an
-eagle, he expands his great wings, and remains for a moment in
-the same position without any movement; he beats them violently,
-raises them high above his body, twists them and whirls them; he
-closes them and is precipitated almost to the ground; he gives a
-few powerful strokes, and in a few minutes has ascended to
-immeasurable heights. As he approaches the ground we see his
-vividly contrasted colours&mdash;the velvet black of the head, neck,
-breast, and belly, the silver white on the under surface of his wings,
-the light chestnut-brown of his tail; he throws himself headlong,
-and we notice the bright colour of the back resembling that of the
-tail and a broad light band on the wings; he comes still nearer, and
-we may perhaps detect the coral-red beak and cheeks and talons.
-If we question one of the nomad herdsmen observant of the animal
-life of the steppe in regard to this striking and altogether remarkable<span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</span>
-bird of prey, we may hear from his lips this significant and
-suggestive story. “To him,” he says, “the goodness of the All-merciful
-has given rich gifts, and, above all, high wisdom. For he is
-a physician among the birds of heaven, familiar with the diseases
-which visit the children of the Creator, and knowing all the herbs
-and roots with which to heal them. From far-off lands thou mayest
-see him bear the roots, but in vain dost thou seek to discover whither
-he is summoned to heal the sick. The working of his remedies is
-unfailing; to partake of them brings life, to reject them is to invite
-death; they are as the Hedijah written by the hand of God’s
-messenger, a precept of Mohammed, whom we reverence in humility.
-To the poor in the eyes of the Lord, to the sons of Adam, it is not
-forbidden to make use of them. Take note of where the physician-eagle
-has his dwelling, refrain from injuring his eggs, wait till the
-feathers of his young no longer draw any blood, and then go to his
-home and wound the body of one of his children. Thereupon shalt
-thou perceive the father fly towards morning in the direction in
-which thou turnest to pray. Be not discouraged in waiting for his
-return, have patience! He will appear bearing with him a root;
-frighten him so that he may leave it to thee, take it without fear;
-for it comes from the Lord, in whose hand are the issues of life, and
-it is free from all witchcraft. Then hasten to heal thy sick; they shall
-all recover, for so it is appointed to them by the Father of Mercies.”</p>
-
-<p>The bird which forms the subject of this poetic legend is the
-bateleur or short-tailed African eagle&mdash;the “Heaven’s ape” of the
-Abyssinians. The roots which, according to the legend, it carries,
-are snakes, which it picks up. Seldom does one see the bird rest;
-usually it flies, as has been described, until the sight of a snake
-induces it to hurl itself downwards and to engage in battle. Like
-all the snake-eating birds of prey, it is well protected against the
-venomous fangs by the thick horny plates on its talons and by its
-dense plumage; it is therefore unafraid of the most deadly snake,
-and is a true benefactor of the steppe-land. It is not this beneficence,
-however, but its marvellous flight that has won renown for the
-African eagle in the eyes of all the peoples among whom it has its
-home.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f32">
-<img src="images/fig32.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 28.&mdash;On an Ostrich Farm in South Africa.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>The ostrich, which is bound to the earth, stands in striking contrast
-to the short-tailed eagle. He also is the hero of an Arabian
-legend, which, however, instead of glorifying him, brings him down
-to the dust; for the story is that the ostrich wished, in the exuberance
-of his vanity, to fly to the sun, but was in his attempt miserably
-burned, and hurled in his present form to the ground. To us
-his life is all the more worthy of consideration, that many false ideas
-still prevail both in regard to it and in regard to the bird himself.</p>
-
-<p>Although occurring in those low grounds of the African and
-West Asiatic deserts which are richest in vegetation, the ostrich
-becomes abundant only in the steppe. Here one is almost continually
-crossing his unmistakable “spoor”, though it is but rarely that
-one sees the bird. He is tall enough to see over the lofty grasses
-which conceal him, he is far-sighted and shy, and can therefore
-usually conceal himself from the approaching traveller. If one
-succeeds in observing him from a distance, one sees that, except<span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</span>
-at the breeding season, he is fond of a comfortable and easy-going
-life. In the early morning, and in the evening, the troop feed busily;
-at noon they all lie resting and digesting on the ground; sometimes
-they go together to water or to bathe (even in the sea); later on,
-they amuse themselves with marvellous dances,<a id="FNanchor_49" href="#Footnote_49" class="fnanchor">[48]</a> jumping round in
-a circle as if out of their senses, fanning with their wing-plumes
-as if they would attempt to fly; at sunset they betake themselves
-to rest, but without neglecting to secure their safety. If a formidable
-enemy threaten them they rush off in wild flight, and soon
-leave him far behind; if a weaker carnivore sneak upon them, they
-strike him to the ground with their extremely powerful legs. Thus
-the course of their life runs smoothly, provided that there be no
-lack of food. Of this they require an enormous quantity. Their
-voracity is astounding, and not less is the capacity of their stomach
-to receive vast quantities of all sorts of things, which are either
-digested, or are retained without injury. Almost everything vegetable,
-from root-tubers to fruits, is accepted by their stomachs,
-which have now become proverbial; and so is it with small animals,
-both vertebrate and invertebrate. But such things by no means exhaust
-their menu. The ostrich swallows whatever can be swallowed,
-gulping down stones a pound in weight, and in captivity not disdaining
-pieces of tiles, oakum, rags, knives, single keys and bunches of
-keys, nails, pieces of glass and crockery, leaden balls, bells, and
-many other such things. Indeed, it may fall a victim to its indiscriminating
-appetite by devouring such stuff as unslaked lime. In
-the stomach of one which died in captivity there was found a heterogeneous
-mass weighing in all about nine pounds. In the poultry-yard
-the greedy bird swallows ducklings and chickens as if they
-were oysters; it dismantles walls to fill its gizzard with the loose
-mortar; in short, it will eat anything which is not a fixture. In
-proportion to the amount of food which it requires&mdash;and that is
-not out of proportion to its size and activity&mdash;so is its thirst. Thus
-it frequents those places where it finds not only abundance of
-nutritious plants, but also water-basins or springs. If both fail,
-the ostriches are forced to migrate, and in such cases they often
-cover great distances.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</span></p>
-
-<p>With the coming of spring the mating instinct awakens in the
-heart of the ostrich, and then it changes its habit of life in a
-remarkable manner. The troops or herds break up into small
-groups, and the adult males begin their long-continued combats for
-mates. Excited to the highest pitch, as is outwardly indicated by
-the vivid reddening of neck and legs, two rivals stand opposed; they
-fan their wings so that the full splendour of their fluffy white
-plumes is displayed; they move their long necks in a scarce
-describable fashion, twisting and bending now forwards, now sideways;
-they utter deep and hoarse sounds, sometimes suggestive of a
-muffled drum, sometimes even of the roaring of lions; they stare at
-one another; they bend down on the soles of their feet, and move
-their necks and wings more rapidly and persistently than before;
-then they spring up again and rush at one another, seeking, in the
-swift encounter, to strike their opponent a powerful blow with the
-foot, and with the sharp-cutting toe-nail to make long, deep gashes
-on body and legs. The victor in the combat is not more gentle to
-the mate or mates which he has won, in fact he abuses them shamefully
-with bullying and blows. It is not at present perfectly
-certain whether a male keeps company with one female or with
-several;<a id="FNanchor_50" href="#Footnote_50" class="fnanchor">[49]</a> it may be accepted as a fact, however, that several females
-often lay in the same nest, and it has been observed that the female
-does not undertake the whole responsibility of sitting on the eggs,
-but leaves much of this to the male, who, after about eight weeks’
-brooding, also leads about the young and tends them. In both
-brooding and tending, the female does assist, but the male always
-has the larger share, and in leading about the young brood he
-shows more carefulness and solicitude than does the mother-bird.
-The young ostriches, when hatched, are about the size of an average
-hen, and come into the world with a remarkable suit of feathers,
-more like the bristly coat of a mammal than the customary down
-of young birds. As they exhibit the characteristic voracity of their
-race from the day of their birth, they grow quickly, and after two
-or three months they change their plumage and put on a garb
-resembling that of the female. At least three years must pass,
-however, before they are fully grown or ready for pairing.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</span></p>
-
-<p>Such, in briefest statement, are the essential facts in regard to
-the life-history of the giant bird of the steppe; all the stories which
-are inconsistent with my summary are more or less fabulous.</p>
-
-<p>The bird of the night in regard to which I wish to say a few
-words is the night-jar or goat-sucker, whose race is represented
-at home by one species, but in the steppe by several somewhat
-remarkable forms. When the first star is seen in the evening sky
-these gayest and most charming of nocturnal birds begin to be
-active. During the day it is only by chance that we ever see one,
-and we scarce believe in its powers of enlivening the steppe-land.
-But, when night falls, at least one is sure to make its appearance.
-Attracted to the camp-fire like the scorpion and the viper, the
-softly-flying bird flits in ever-changing course around the watchers,
-alights near them for a moment, delivers a few strophes of its
-whirring night-song, which reminds one of a cat’s purring, is off
-again into the dusk, only to reappear in a few minutes, and so on
-until morning. One species is especially fascinating, the flag-winged
-night-jar, or “four-winged bird” of the natives. Its decorative
-peculiarity consists of a long feather which grows out between
-the primaries and secondaries<a id="FNanchor_51" href="#Footnote_51" class="fnanchor">[50]</a> of each wing, without any vane
-except at the broad tip, and far exceeding all the other feathers in
-length, being in fact almost exactly half a yard in length. Eerily,
-like some ghost, this night-jar flies and flutters. It looks as if it
-were being constantly pursued by two others of smaller size, or as
-if it could divide itself into two or three birds, or as if it had indeed
-four wings. But it has all the charms of its race, and soon becomes
-a welcome visitor, contributing, like its fellows, not a little to
-alleviate most pleasantly the discomforts of the night.</p>
-
-<p>Like the birds, the mammals of the steppe are rich alike in
-numbers and in species. The abundant vegetation supports not
-only countless herds of antelopes, which are justly regarded as most
-characteristic of this region, but also buffaloes and wild boars, zebras
-and wild asses, elephants and rhinoceroses, the “serafe”, or giraffes,
-as we call them, besides a host of rodents with which we have only
-a general acquaintance. Against this dense population of herbivores,
-the numerous carnivores of the steppe wage unceasing war,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</span>
-and this is probably even to the advantage of the former, since,
-without some such check, the ruminants and rodents would tend to
-multiply beyond the limits of subsistence afforded even by the rich
-vegetation of this region. The uniformity of the North African
-steppes and the relatively (though not really) frequent occurrence
-of standing and flowing water hinder the formation of those immense
-mobs of antelopes which are observed in the Karroo of South
-Africa; everywhere, however, we come across these elegant, fine-eyed
-ruminants, singly, in small herds, or in considerable companies,
-and they seem to keep to approximately the same spots in summer
-and winter. Zebras and wild asses, on the other hand, are
-only found on the dry heights; the giraffe lives exclusively in the
-thin woods, while the rhinoceros almost always seeks the densest
-growths; the elephant entirely avoids broad open tracts, and the
-ill-tempered buffaloes cling to the moist low ground. On these last,
-as on the tame herds of cattle, the lion preys, while the cunning
-leopard and the nimble, untiring cheetah, are more given to stalking
-the antelopes; the jackals and steppe-wolves prefer the hares;
-the foxes, civets, and polecats seek the small rodents and those birds
-which live on the ground.</p>
-
-<p>From this abundant fauna I must select some for special notice,
-but I shall withstand the temptation of choosing lion or cheetah,
-hyæna or ratel, zebra or other wild horse, giraffe or buffalo, elephant
-or rhinoceros, for there are some others which seem to me more
-truly distinctive of the steppe. Among these I place in the first rank
-the ant-eater, or aard-vark, and the pangolin&mdash;the old-world representatives
-of the Edentates&mdash;which have their head-quarters in the
-western hemisphere, and belong to an order whose golden age lies
-many ages behind us. Both aard-vark and pangolin are, in North
-Africa at least, distinctively steppe animals, for it is only there that
-the ant-hills and termitaries are sufficiently numerous to afford
-them comfortable maintenance. Like all ant-eaters they lie
-during the day rolled up almost in a ball, sleeping in deep burrows
-which they have dug out, and which one sees opening alike on the
-broad, treeless, grass plain and among the sparse trees and shrubs.
-Only when night has set in do they become lively; with clumsy<span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</span>
-gait they hobble and jump about in search of food, progressing
-chiefly by means of their powerful hind-limbs, resting on the great
-burrowing claws of their fore-limbs and on their heavy tail. Their
-food consists exclusively of small creatures of all kinds, but especially
-of the larvæ of ants and termites, and of worms. Continually jerking
-its depressed nose and snuffing about, the ant-eater trots along, and,
-having discovered a pathway of the ants or termites, follows this
-home. Without much difficulty it makes an opening for its long
-snout, pushes this into the hole, and feels about with its tongue for
-the passages along which the insects hurry and scurry. Having
-stretched the tongue, which is viscid and thread-like, along one of
-the chief passages, it waits until it is covered with ants or termites,
-and then retracts it into the narrow mouth. So minute are the
-individual morsels that this may seem a somewhat miserable mode
-of making a meal, but the tongue is, in its way, just as effective as
-the powerful claws, and the ant-eater makes its way through life
-very comfortably. Nor are the animals by any means so helpless
-as they seem. The weak pangolin is protected more effectively by
-his armour, which is strong enough to turn a sword, than by the
-weapons on its feet; the aard-vark is able to use its claws most
-effectively, and can also give such smart side-blows with its heavy
-tail that it readily gets rid of an antagonist who is not of superior
-strength. But if a really formidable enemy draws near and is
-detected in time, the aard-vark burrows with the utmost rapidity,
-throwing out sand and dust with such force and in such quantities
-that an almost impenetrable, because blinding, veil saves it from
-attack until it is at a safe depth underground. Only to man with
-his far-reaching weapons does it fall an easy prey, for he stabs it
-asleep in its burrow, and kills it almost infallibly if the entrance
-to the hole be fairly straight and not too long. Thus, fate is too
-strong for even this old-world creature, and will sooner or later
-wipe out its name from the book of the living.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f33">
-<img src="images/fig33.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 29.&mdash;Hyæna-dogs pursuing Antelope.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Among the steppe beasts of prey one of the best known and
-most distinctive is a dog. A connecting link between the dogs and
-the hyænas, not only in form but to a certain extent in its markings,
-this animal&mdash;the hyæna-dog or Cape hunting-dog&mdash;is one of
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</span>the most noteworthy figures in the steppe-picture, and also in its
-nature and habits one of the most interesting of all the carnivores
-of this region. Excepting certain monkeys, I know of no mammal
-so self-assertive, so wantonly aggressive, so emulous of exploits as
-this dog is, or, at any rate, seems to be. There is no limit to his
-ambition; no other mammal is quite secure from his attack. In
-large packs they traverse the broad steppe-land on eager outlook
-for booty. They ravage the sheep-flocks of the settlers and
-nomads; they follow persistently at the heels of the swiftest and
-most agile antelopes; audaciously they press in even upon men;
-fearlessly they dislodge, thanks perhaps to their noisy bravado, the
-other carnivores of the region which they frequent. Behind the
-strongest and most formidable antelope a pack rushes in full cry,
-barking, howling, whining, and now and then uttering a clear note
-of triumph. The antelope exerts all its strength, but the murderous
-dogs lose no ground, they cut off corners and prevent it doubling
-back, they come nearer and nearer and force it to stand at bay.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</span>
-Conscious of its strength and of its powers of defence, the antelope
-uses its pointed horns with skill and good effect; one dog after
-another may be hurled to the ground fatally transfixed; but the
-others fix on its throat and body, and the noble creature’s death-rattle
-soon puts an end to their howling. Without fear of man
-these dogs fall upon domestic animals of all kinds, tearing up the
-smaller sorts with the bloodthirstiness of martens, and mutilating
-those which are too large to be readily mastered. Nor are they
-afraid of domestic dogs, but fight with them to the death and leave
-them lifeless on the field. Thoroughly broken in and tamed, trained
-for several generations, they should become the most excellent of
-sporting-hounds; but the task of subjugation is certainly not an
-easy one. They do indeed become used to their master, and display
-some liking, even a certain fondness for him, but all in their own
-way. When called from their kennel, they jump up and down in
-the highest of spirits, fight with one another out of sheer joy, rush
-at their approaching master, leap up on him, try to show their
-gladness in the most extravagant ways, and are finally unable to
-express it except by biting him. A boisterous mischievousness and
-an uncontrollable impulse to bite are characteristic of almost all
-their doings. More excitable than almost any other creature, they
-move every member, they quiver in every fibre, when any novel
-occurrence attracts or occupies them; their mercurial vivacity is
-expressed in exaggerated gaiety and next moment in savage wildness.
-For they bite whatever comes in their way, without any
-provocation, probably without any ill-will, simply for fun. They
-are the most marvellous creatures in all the steppes.</p>
-
-<p>In those parts of the steppe which I have been more particularly
-considering&mdash;the Kordofan, Sennaar, and Taka regions&mdash;the
-animal life is not subject to destructive or disturbing influences
-to the same extent as in the south of Africa or in Central Asia.
-To those animals which do not migrate, or do not lie in death-like
-sleep for months, the winter may bring privations or even
-sharp want, but it does not involve the pangs of starvation or
-the torments of thirst; it does not force desperate creatures to
-leave an impoverished home, or seek for happier lands in mad<span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</span>
-flight. It is true that the animals of the North African steppes
-have their migrations and journeyings; but they do not flee in
-a panic as do those which inhabit other steppe-lands, and forsake
-them in hundreds of thousands before a threatened destruction.
-Of the immense herds of antelopes, such as crowd together
-in the south of Africa, one never hears in the north. All the gregarious
-mammals and birds gather together when the winter sets
-in, and disband when the spring draws near; all the migratory birds
-go and come about the same time; but all this takes place in an
-orderly, old-established fashion, not spasmodically nor without
-definite ends. There is, however, one power from whose influence
-the animal life of these steppe-lands is not exempt,&mdash;and that is
-fire.</p>
-
-<p>Every year, at the time when the dark clouds in the south and
-the lightning which flashes from them announce the approach of
-spring, during days when the south wind rages over the steppe, the
-nomad herdsman takes a firebrand and hurls it into the waving grass.
-Rapidly and beyond all stopping the fire catches. It spreads over
-broad stretches; smoke and steam by day, a lurid cloud by night,
-proclaim its destructive and yet eventually beneficial progress. Not
-unfrequently it reaches the primeval forest, and the flames send their
-forked tongues up the dry climbing-plants to the crowns of the
-trees, devouring the remaining leaves or charring the outer bark.
-Sometimes, though more rarely, the fire surrounds a village and
-showers its burning arrows on the straw huts, which flare up
-almost in a moment.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f34">
-<a href="images/fig34big.jpg">
-<img src="images/fig34.jpg" alt="" />
-</a>
-<p class="caption">Fig. 30.&mdash;Zebras, Quaggas, and Ostriches flying before a Steppe-fire.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Although a steppe-fire, in spite of the abundance of combustible
-material, is rarely fatal to horsemen or to those who meet fire by
-fire, and just as rarely to the swift mammals, it exerts, nevertheless,
-a most exciting influence on the animal world, and puts to flight
-everything that lives hidden in the grass-forest. And sometimes the
-flight becomes a stampede, to hasten which the panic of the fugitives
-contributes more than the steady advance of the flames. Antelopes,
-zebras, and ostriches speed across the plain more quickly than
-the wind; cheetahs and leopards follow them and mingle with them
-without thinking of booty; the hunting-dog forgets his lust for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</span>
-blood; and the lion succumbs to the terror which has conquered the
-others. Only those which live in burrows are undismayed, for they
-betake themselves to their safe retreats and let the sea of fire roll
-over them. Otherwise it fares hardly with everything that creeps
-or is fettered to the ground. Few snakes and hardly the most agile
-of the lizards are able to outrun the fire. Scorpions, tarantulas, and
-centipedes either fall victims to the flames, or become, like the
-affrighted swarms of insects, the prey of enemies which are able to
-defy the conflagration. For as soon as a cloud of smoke ascends to
-the sky and gradually grows in volume, the birds of prey hasten
-thither from all quarters, especially serpent-eagles, chanting goshawks,
-harriers, kestrels, storks, bee-eaters, and swifts. They come to
-capture the lizards, snakes, scorpions, spiders, beetles, and locusts,
-which are startled into flight before the flames. In front of the
-line the storks and the secretary-birds stalk about undaunted;
-above them amid the clouds of smoke sweep the light-winged falcons,
-bee-eaters, and swifts; and for all there is booty enough.
-These birds continue the chase as long as the steppe burns, and the
-flames find food as long as they are fanned by the storms. Only
-when the winds die down do the flames cease.</p>
-
-<p>It is thus that the nomad clears his pasture of weeds and vermin,
-and prepares it for fresh growth. The ashes remain as manure, the
-life-giving rains carry this into the soil, and after the first thunder-storm
-all is covered with fresh green. All the former tenants,
-driven away in fear, return to their old haunts, to enjoy, after the
-hardships of winter and the recent panic, the pleasures of ease and
-comfort.</p>
-
-
-<hr class="full x-ebookmaker-drop" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="c9">THE PRIMEVAL FORESTS OF CENTRAL AFRICA.</h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>Rich as the African steppe really is, incomparably rich as it
-seems when compared with the desert, it nowhere exhibits the full
-luxuriance of tropical vegetation. It indeed receives everywhere
-the blessing of life-giving water; but this lasts too short a time
-to have a permanent influence. With the cessation of the rains<span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</span>
-the power of growth comes to an end, and heat and drought destroy
-what the rains have produced. Therefore only those plants
-can flourish in the steppe the course of whose life is run within a
-few weeks; those which are capable of outlasting centuries never
-attain to full development. Only in the low grounds, traversed by
-streams which never dry up, and watered by these as well as by
-the rains, where sunlight and water, warmth and moisture, work
-together, does the magic wealth of tropical lands develop and endure.
-Here have arisen forests which, in magnificence and beauty,
-grandeur and luxuriance, are scarce inferior to those of the most
-favoured lands of lower latitudes. They are primeval forests in the
-true sense of the word, for they grow and disappear, become old
-and renew their youth without help of man; even to this day they
-are sufficient unto themselves, and they support an extraordinary
-wealth of animal life.</p>
-
-<p>The storms of spring carry the rain-laden clouds from the south
-over the African countries lying north of the equator. Accordingly,
-these forests do not burst suddenly on the eye of the traveller
-journeying from the north, but become gradually more characteristic
-the farther south he penetrates. The nearer he approaches to
-the equator the more brilliantly the lightning flashes, the louder
-and more continuously the thunder rolls, the more noisily the rain-torrents
-fall, so much the more luxuriantly do all plants thrive, so
-much the richer in forms does the fauna become; the earlier the
-rainy season sets in the longer it lasts, and so much the greater
-is the charm it works. In exact proportion to the increase of
-moisture, the forest becomes denser, loftier, and more extensive.
-From the banks of the streams the plant-growth spreads into the
-interior, and takes possession of every available space, from the
-thickly-covered ground to the tops of the highest trees. Trees
-which are only dwarfs elsewhere, become giants here; known species
-become the hosts of still unknown parasites, and between them a
-plant-world hitherto unseen struggles towards the light. Even here,
-however, at least in the northern belt of the forest, the heat and
-drought of winter have still so strong an influence that they periodically
-destroy the foliage of the trees and condemn at least most of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</span>
-them to some weeks of complete inactivity. But the awakening
-call of spring rings the more clearly through the sleeping wood; the
-life which the first rains of the fertilizing season call forth stirs the
-more powerfully after the rest of winter.</p>
-
-<p>I shall select spring-time in these countries to depict the primeval
-forest as best I can. The south wind, herald and bearer of the rain-clouds,
-must still be in contest with the cooling breezes from the
-north if the forest is to reveal all its possible magnificence, and one
-must penetrate to its heart by one of its arteries, the rivers, if one
-wishes to see the fulness of its life. Let us take the Azrek or
-“Blue Nile”, rising in the mountains of Habesh, as our highway;
-for with it are linked the most exquisite pictures which a long life
-of travel have won for me, and I may prove a better guide on it
-than on another. I very much doubt, however, whether I shall
-prove such an interpreter of the forest as I should like to be. For
-the primeval forest is a world full of splendour, and brilliance, and
-fairy-like beauty; a land of marvels whose wealth no man has been
-able fully to know, much less to carry away; a treasure-house which
-scatters infinitely more than one can gather; a paradise in which
-the creation seems to take shape anew day by day; an enchanted
-circle which unfolds before him who enters it pictures, grand and
-lovely, grave and gay, bright as daylight and sombre as night; a
-thousand integral parts making up a whole infinitely complex, yet
-unified and harmonious, which baffles all description.</p>
-
-<p>One of the light little craft which one sees at Khartoum (the
-capital of the Eastern Soudan, lying at the junction of the two Nile
-streams) is transformed into a travelling boat, and bears us against
-the waves of the much-swollen Azrek. The gardens of the last
-houses of the capital disappear, and the steppe reaches down to the
-very bank of the river. Here and there we still see a village, or
-isolated huts lying prettily under mimosas and often surrounded by
-creeping and climbing plants which hang from the trees; nothing
-else is visible save the waving grass-forest and the few steppe trees
-and shrubs which rise from its midst. But after a short journey the
-forest takes possession of the bank, and spreads out its thorny or
-spine-covered branches even beyond it. Thenceforward our progress<span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</span>
-is slow. The wind blowing against us prevents sailing, the
-forest renders towing impossible. With the boat-hook the crew pull
-the little craft foot by foot, yard by yard, farther up the stream, till
-one of their number espies a gap where he can gain a foothold in
-the thick hedge-wall of the bank, and, committing his mortal body
-to the care of Muhsa, the patron-saint of all sailors, and praying for
-protection from the crocodiles which are here abundant, he takes the
-towing-rope between his teeth, plunges into the water, swims to the
-desired spot, fastens the rope round the trunk of a tree, and lets
-his companions pull the boat up to it. Thus the boatmen toil from
-early morning till late in the evening, yet they only speed the
-traveller perhaps five, or at most ten miles on his way. Nevertheless
-the days fly past, and none who have learned to see and hear need
-suffer from weariness there. To the naturalist, as to every thoughtful
-observer, every day offers something new; to the collector, a
-wealth of material of every kind.</p>
-
-<p>Every now and again one comes upon traces of human beings.
-If one follows them from the bank, along narrow paths hemmed in
-on either side by the dense undergrowth, one arrives at the abodes
-of a remarkable little tribe. They are the Hassanie who dwell there.
-Where the forest is less dense, and where the trees do not form a three-or
-four-fold roof with their crowns, but consist of tall, shady mimosas,
-Kigelias, tamarinds, and baobabs, these folk erect their most delightful
-tent- or booth-like huts, so different from all the other dwellings
-one sees in the Soudan. “Hassanie” means the descendants of Hassan,
-and Hassan means the Beautiful; and not without reason does this
-tribe bear this name. For the Hassanie are indisputably the handsomest
-people who dwell in the lower and middle regions of the
-river-basin, and the women in particular surpass almost all other
-Soudanese in beauty of form, regularity of feature, and clearness of
-skin. Both men and women faithfully observe certain exceedingly
-singular customs, which among other people are, with reason, considered
-immoral. The Hassanie are therefore at once famous and
-notorious, sought out and avoided, praised and scoffed at, extolled
-and abused. To the unprejudiced traveller, eager to study manners
-and customs, they afford much delight, if not by their beauty at<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</span>
-least by their desire for approbation, which must please even the
-least susceptible of men. This trait is much more conspicuous in
-them than even the self-consciousness which beauty gives: they
-must and will please. The preservation of their beauty is their
-highest aim, and counts for more than any other gain. To avoid
-sunburning, which would darken their clear brown skins, they live
-in the shade of the forest, contenting themselves with a few goats,
-their only domestic animals except dogs, and foregoing the wealth that
-numerous herds of cattle and camels afford their nomadic relatives.
-That their charms may be in no way spoiled, they strive above all
-to become possessed of female slaves, who relieve them of all hard
-work; to decorate face and cheeks they endure heroically, even as
-little girls, the pain inflicted by the mother as she cuts with a knife
-three deep, parallel, vertical wounds in the cheeks, that as many thick,
-swollen scars may be formed, or as she pricks forehead, temples, and
-chin with a needle and rubs indigo powder into the wounds, so producing
-blue spirals or other devices; to avoid injury to their dazzling
-white, almost sparkling teeth, they eat only lukewarm food; to preserve
-as long as possible their most elaborate coiffure, which consists
-of hundreds of fine braids, stiffened with gum arabic and richly
-oiled, they use no pillow save a narrow, crescent-shaped, wooden
-stand, on which they rest their heads while sleeping. To satisfy
-their sense of beauty, or perhaps in order that they may be seen
-and admired by every inhabitant or visitor, they have thought out
-the singular construction of their huts.</p>
-
-<p>These huts may be perhaps best compared to the booths to be
-seen at fairs. The floor, which consists of rods as thick as one’s
-thumb bound closely together, rests upon a framework of stakes
-rising about a yard from the ground, thus making the dwelling
-difficult of access to creeping pests, and raising it from the damp
-ground. The walls consist of mats; the roof, overhanging on the
-north side, which is left open, is made of a waterproof stuff
-woven from goat’s hair. Neatly plaited mats of palm-leaf strips
-cover the floor; prettily-wrought wicker-work, festoons of shells,
-water-tight plaited baskets, earthen vessels, drinking-cups made
-from half a bottle-gourd, gaily-coloured utensils also plaited, lids,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</span>
-and other such things decorate the walls. Each vessel is daintily
-wrought and cleanly kept; the order and cleanliness of the whole
-hut impress one the more that both are so uncommon.</p>
-
-<p>In such a hut the Hassanie dreams away the day. Dressed in
-her best, her hair and skin oiled with perfumed ointment, a long,
-lightly-woven, and therefore translucent piece of cloth enveloping
-the upper part of her body, a piece of stuff hanging petticoat-like
-from the waist, her feet adorned with daintily-worked sandals, neck
-and bosom hung with chains and amulets, arms with bracelets of
-amber, her nose possibly decorated with a silver, or even a gold ring,
-she sits hidden in the shade and rejoices in her beauty. Her little
-hand is busy with a piece of plaiting, some house utensil or article
-of dress, or perhaps it holds only her tooth-brush, a root teased out
-at both ends, and admirably adapted to its purpose. All the work
-of the house is done by her slave, all the labour of looking after the
-little flock by her obliging husband. The carefully thought-out
-and remarkable marriage-relations customary in the tribe, and adhered
-to in defiance of all the decrees and interference of the ruler
-of the land, guarantee her unheard-of rights. She is mistress in the
-most unlimited sense of the word, mistress also of her husband, at
-least as long as her charms remain; only when she is old and
-withered does she also learn the transitoriness of all earthly pleasure.
-Till then, she does what seems good in her eyes, her freedom bounded
-only by the limits which she has herself laid down. As long as the
-crowns of the trees do not afford complete shade around her hut
-she does not go out of doors, but offers every passer-by, particularly
-any stranger who calls upon her, a hearty welcome, and with or
-without her husband’s aid, does the honours of the tribe with almost
-boundless hospitality. Yet it is only when the evening sets in that
-her real life begins. Even before the sun has set, there is a stir and
-bustle in the settlement. One friend visits her neighbour, others
-join them; drum and zither entice the rest, and soon slender, lithe,
-supple figures arrange themselves for a merry dance. Delicate
-hands dip the drinking-cups into the big-bellied urn, filled with
-Merieza or dhurra beer, that the hearts of the men also may be
-glad. Old and young are assembled, and they celebrate the evening<span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</span>
-festival the more joyfully that it is honoured by the presence of
-strangers. The hospitality of all the Soudanese is extraordinary,
-but in no other race is it so remarkable as among the Hassanie.</p>
-
-<p>In the course of our journey we come upon other settlements of
-these forest-shepherds, sometimes also on the villages of other Soudanese,
-and at length, after travelling nearly a month, we reach
-the desired region. The dense forest on both banks of the river
-prevents our searching gaze from seeing farther into the country.
-In this region there are no settlements of men, neither fields nor
-villages, not even temporarily inhabited camps; the ring of the
-axe has not yet echoed through these forests, for man has not yet
-attempted to exploit them; in them there dwell, still almost unmolested,
-only wild beasts. Impenetrable hedges shut off the forests,
-and resist any attempt to force a way from the stream to the
-interior. Every shade of green combines to form an enchanting
-picture, which now reminds one of home, and again appears entirely
-foreign. Bright green mimosas form the groundwork, and with
-them contrast vividly the silver glittering palm-leaves, the dark
-green tamarinds, and the bright green Christ-thorn bushes; leaves
-of endless variety wave and tremble in the wind, exposing first one
-side and then the other, shimmering and glittering before the surfeited
-and dazzled eye, which seeks in vain to analyse the leafy
-maze, to distinguish any part from the whole. For miles both
-banks present the same appearance, the same denseness of forest,
-the same grandeur, everywhere equally uninterrupted and impenetrable.</p>
-
-<p>At last we come upon a path, perhaps even on a broad road,
-which seems to lead into the depths of the forest. But we search
-in vain for any traces of human footprints. Man did not make this
-path; the beasts of the forest have cleared it. A herd of elephants
-tramped through the matted thicket from the dry heights of the
-bank to the stream. One after another in long procession the
-mighty beasts broke through the undergrowth, intertwined a thousand-fold,
-letting nought save the strongest trees divert them from
-their course. If branches or stems as thick as a man’s leg stood in
-the way they were snapped across, stripped of twigs and leaves, all<span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</span>
-that was eatable devoured, and the remainder thrown aside, the
-bushes which covered the ground so luxuriantly were torn up by
-the roots, and used or thrown aside in the same manner, grass and
-plants were trodden under foot. What the first comers left fell
-to those behind, and thus arose a passable road often stretching
-deep into the heart of the forest. Other animals have taken advantage
-of it, treading it down more thoroughly, and keeping it in
-passable condition. By it the hippopotamus makes his way at night
-when he tramps from the river to feed in the woods; the rhinoceros
-uses it as he comes from the forest to drink; by it the raging buffalo
-descends to the valley and returns to the heights; along it the lion
-strides through his territory; and there one may meet the leopard,
-the hyæna, and other wild beasts of the forest. We set foot on it,
-and press forwards.</p>
-
-<p>After a few steps the magnificent forest surrounds us on all
-sides. But, here also, it seems in vain to attempt to unravel the
-confusion of stems and branches, twigs and shoots, tendrils and
-leaves. The forest hems in such a path on both sides like a wall.
-The ground is everywhere covered with thickly-matted bushes,
-which one cannot even see through; but, struggling through these,
-all sorts of grasses have sprung up, forming a second undergrowth;
-just above that, tall-stemmed bushes and low trees spread their
-branches on all sides; over these again rise taller trees, and above
-them all tower the giants of the forest. By far the greater number
-of bushes in the undergrowth are thickly covered with thorns,
-while the mimosas towering above them are armed with long, hard,
-sharp spines, and even the grasses have burr-like seed-capsules
-covered with fine prickles, or ears set with sharp hooks, so that
-every attempt to penetrate the forest from the path is foiled by a
-thousand obstacles. The bird the huntsman’s gun has brought
-down is lost to him because in falling it is caught in a bush
-which he cannot reach without an amount of exertion quite out
-of proportion to the object; the game which conceals itself in a
-shrub before our very eyes is saved because we can no longer perceive
-it; a crocodile about three yards long, which we startled in
-the wood, escapes us by withdrawing itself into an isolated bush so<span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</span>
-completely that we cannot see a scale of it, and accordingly cannot
-fire a shot to any purpose.</p>
-
-<p>Still we continue striving vainly to master the wealth of impressions,
-to separate one picture from another, to see any one tree from
-the ground to its top, to distinguish the leaves of one from those of
-another. From the stream it had been possible to distinguish some
-of the fresh green tamarinds from the mimosas of various species
-surrounding them, to recognize the magnificent kigelias, reminding
-us slightly of our own elms, to delight in the palm-crowns towering
-over the rest of the trees: here, in the depths of the forest, all the
-individual parts are fused into an inseparable whole. All the
-senses are claimed at once. From the leafy dome which the eye
-attempts to penetrate is wafted the balsamic fragrance of some
-mimosas now in bloom; and hence also there rings continually
-in the ear a medley of the most varied sounds and notes, from the
-guttural cries of the monkeys or the screeching of parrots, to the
-modulated songs of birds and the buzzing of the insects flying about
-the blossoming trees. The sense of touch is no less fully, if not
-quite agreeably stimulated by the innumerable thorns, while that
-of taste may regale itself with the few attainable, but more or less
-unpalatable fruits.</p>
-
-<p>But at last we do come upon a distinct and definite picture.
-A tree, mighty in its whole structure, gigantic even in its minor
-branches, rises above the innumerable plants surrounding its base;
-like a giant it presses upwards and takes possession of space for its
-trunk and crown. It is the elephant, the pachyderm among the
-trees, the Adansonia, the <i>tabaldie</i> of the natives, the baobab. We
-stand in amazement to gaze on it; for the eye must become accustomed
-to the sight before it can take in the details. Picture a tree,
-the circumference of whose trunk, at a man’s height from the
-ground, may measure a hundred and twenty feet, whose lower
-branches are thicker than the trunks of our largest trees; whose
-twigs are like strong branches, and whose youngest shoots are
-thicker than one’s thumb; remember that this mighty giant of the
-plant-world rises to a height of about one hundred and thirty feet,
-and that its lowest branches spread out to almost sixty, and you<span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</span>
-will be able to form some idea of the impression it makes on the
-beholder. Of all the trees of the primeval forests in this region,
-the baobab is the first to lose its leaves, and it remains longest in its
-winter repose; during this season all its branches and twigs stretch
-out leafless into the air, while from most of them there hang, by
-long flexible stalks, fruits about the size of a melon, containing
-a mealy, slightly sour pulp between the seeds&mdash;the whole a
-sight which stamps itself ineffaceably on the memory. But,
-after the first rains of spring, great, five-lobed leaves unfold,
-enhancing the charm of this wondrous tree, and when, between
-the leaves, the long-stalked buds disclose white flowers as large as
-roses, this incomparable giant is transformed, as if by magic,
-into an enormous rose-bush of indescribable beauty, the sight of
-which stirs the heart of even the most matter-of-fact of men with
-admiration.</p>
-
-<p>No other tree in the forest can be compared with the baobab;
-even the duleb-palm, which raises its head above all the surrounding
-trees, cannot bear comparison with it in charm and impressiveness.
-Yet the duleb-palm is one of the most splendid trees found in the
-interior of Africa, and one of the finest palms in the world; its trunk
-is a pillar which no artist could have surpassed; its crown a capital
-worthy of such a pillar. The upright trunk thickens just above
-the ground, and thins in a remarkable manner to about half its
-height, then begins to bulge out, then again diminishes, and swells
-out once more just under the crown. This consists of broad, fan-like
-leaves, hardly less than a square yard in extent, whose stalks stand
-out straight on all sides round a middle point, thus giving the tree
-a most impressive individuality. The fruits attain to about the size
-of a child’s head, and the clusters hanging among the leaves greatly
-enhance the beauty of the crown, which is, indeed, an ornament to
-the whole forest.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f35">
-<a href="images/fig35big.jpg">
-<img src="images/fig35.jpg" alt="" />
-</a>
-<p class="caption">Fig. 31.&mdash;The Baobab Tree&mdash;Central Africa.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>The legendary always clings about the gigantic; it lives on it,
-and takes form and meaning from it. This thought occurs to one
-when one sees, as frequently happens, the baobab overgrown with
-the tendrils of one of the climbing plants which beautify these
-forests in rich abundance. Climbing plants have always seemed to
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</span>me a fitting emblem of the Arabian fairy tales. For as they appear
-to require no soil, although they have sprung from it, but to take
-their chief nourishment from the air; as they wind their flexible
-stems from tree to tree, attaching themselves firmly to each, yet
-struggling on, until, at length, they unfold on some flowerless tree-top,
-covering it with radiant, fragrant blossoms: so the fairy tale,
-though it may have been firmly rooted in fact, is not sustained
-by any real connection therewith, but reaches up to heaven for
-strength, and sends its poetry over all the world until it finds
-a heart which beats responsive. When I speak of climbing plants
-I do not mean any one species, but include under the term all
-those plants which here thickly cover a trunk with their tortuous
-coils, and there spread their tendrils over a bare tree-top;
-which in one place link many trees together, and in another cover
-a single tree with wreaths of green; which in one part of the
-forest link branch to branch with bridges of naked tendrils, and in
-another region combine to render the way impassable; occurring in
-a hundred different forms, but always twining and climbing. Their
-beauty, the charm they exercise on the northerner may be felt but
-cannot be described, for words to begin or end a satisfactory
-description would be as difficult to find as the beginnings and ends
-of the climbers themselves. These climbing plants, though within
-reach of one’s hand, yet do not allow of close observation; one
-follows the course of their tendrils admiringly, but without being
-able to say whence they come and whither they go; one revels in
-the sight of their flowers without being able to reach them, or
-often do more than guess to what plants they belong. These
-climbers, above all else, impress on the woodlands the stamp and
-seal of the primitive forest.</p>
-
-<p>But they have other ornaments than the blossoms which they
-themselves unfold. Their tendrils are the favourite perches of many
-of the most beautiful birds of the forest, living flowers which far
-surpass those of the plant in beauty and charm. Sometimes it
-happens that a sudden flash, like a sun-ray reflected from a smooth,
-bright surface, catches the eye and guides it to the spot from which
-it emanated. The shimmer is indeed a sunbeam&mdash;a sunbeam reflected<span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</span>
-from the glossy plumage of a metallic starling, now in one direction,
-now in another, with every movement. Delighted by the wonderful
-beauty of this bird, one would gladly observe it carefully,
-and learn something of its life and habits; but one’s attention is
-continually being claimed by new phenomena. For here, too, picture
-crowds upon picture. Where the metallic starling sat a few
-moments before, there appears a no less brilliant golden cuckoo, a
-sun-bird or honey-sucker rivalling the humming-birds in beauty of
-plumage, a pair of charming bee-eaters, a roller displaying his brilliant
-feathers, a halcyon no less beautiful, a paradise fly-catcher,
-whose long, drooping, median tail-feathers give the little creature
-such a surprising splendour, a turaco unfolding his deep purple-red
-feathers at every stroke of his wings, a shrike whose flaming red
-breast excels even these wings in brightness, a quaintly-shaped
-hornbill, a golden weaver-bird, a vidua or “widow-bird”, a wood-hoopoe
-with its metallic brilliance, a dainty woodpecker, a leaf-green
-dove, a flight of similarly coloured parrots, and many other
-feathered inhabitants of the forest. This is a specially favoured
-home of birds, affording food and shelter to many hundreds and
-thousands of different species, so that one sees them much sooner
-and much more frequently than any of the other creatures which
-have their home in the forest. Birds animate every part, from the
-ground to the tops of the tallest trees, from the most impenetrable
-bushes to the leafless branches of the baobab. Among the grasses
-and other plants growing luxuriantly on the ground the well-trodden
-paths of francolin and perhaps also guinea-fowl twine and intertwine
-in every direction; the leafy spaces just above the root-stocks
-of the bushes are occupied by little doves, the spreading portion of
-their tops by various beautiful birds, especially sun-birds and finches,
-while families of colies shoot down, like arrows from a bow, to
-where the bush-tops are so thickly matted and thoroughly interwoven
-that they seem quite impenetrable, and, by creeping and
-clinging, pushing through every possible gap and opening, succeed
-in forcing their way into the centre, there to seek for food; wood-hoopoes,
-titmice, and woodpeckers hang or climb about, examining
-every crevice in the bark of the trunks which rise just above the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</span>
-bushes; delightful bee-eaters or rollers, paradise fly-catchers and
-drongos sit on the lower twigs of the second layer of tree-tops
-awaiting their flying prey; on the stronger branches of the third
-layer turacos hop about, small herons walk with dignity backwards
-and forwards, horned and other owls cling closely to the stems and
-sleep; parrots and barbets flit about among the thick foliage of the
-tallest trees, while eagles, falcons, and vultures have settled on their
-topmost boughs. Wherever one casts one’s eye there is a bird.</p>
-
-<p>As might be expected from this universal distribution, or indeed
-omnipresence, we hear continually the most varied bird-voices.
-They coax and call, pipe and whistle, chirp and twitter, trill and
-warble, coo and chatter, scream and crow, screech and cackle, cry
-and sing on all sides of us, above and beneath, early and late, and all
-day long. A hundred different voices sound together, now blending
-into a wonderful harmony, now into a bewildering maze of sounds
-which one seeks in vain to analyse, in which only long practice
-enables one to differentiate individual voices. With the exception
-of thrushes, bulbuls, several species of warblers, and drongos,
-there are no true songsters, but there are many pleasing babblers
-and delightful chatterers, and an endless number who scream, cackle,
-croak, and utter various more or less shrill sounds. Taken collectively,
-therefore, the bird-notes of the primitive forest cannot for a
-moment compare in tunefulness and sweetness with the spring songs
-of our own woods, but the individual voices are most remarkable.
-Wild doves coo, moan, laugh, and call from the tree-tops and the
-thickest bushes, francolins and guinea-fowl cackle loudly from their
-midst, parrots screech, ravens croak, plantain-eaters succeed in most
-accurately mimicking the strange guttural cries of a troop of long-tailed
-monkeys, while the turacos utter sounds like those made by
-a ventriloquist; barbets whistle loudly in slurred notes, their voices
-together making a ringing song, so intricate, yet so full of expression
-that it must be reckoned one of the most distinctive sounds
-of the forest; the shimmering metallic starlings sing, and though
-they can only compass a few rough sounds, now croaking, now
-screeching, now squeaking, these are arranged, combined, blended,
-and allowed to die away in endless repetition; the magnificent<span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</span>
-screaming sea-eagle, resident beside all the water-courses and water-basins
-of the forest, justifies his name. High on a tree-top sits the
-“abu tok” (producer of the sound “tok”) of the natives, a small
-hornbill, calling his “tok” loudly and accompanying each sound with
-a nod of his head, weighted with its disproportionately large bill.
-Only this one sound does his unpliant voice produce, yet with it he
-expresses his love to the mate he is wooing, or has won, as intelligibly
-as the nightingale tells its tale in its bewitching song. The
-emotion swelling in his breast struggles for expression. The cries
-follow each other in more and more rapid succession, the appropriate
-movements become more and more rapid, until the heavy head is
-too tired to accompany any longer, and one phrase of this singular
-love-song comes to an end, to be begun and sung through again in
-precisely the same manner a few minutes later. From the unapproachable
-thicket sounds the voice of the <i>hagedash</i> or wood-ibis,
-and a slight shudder seizes the listener. The song of this bird is a
-lamentation of the most pitiful kind; it sounds as if a little child
-were being painfully tortured, perhaps slowly roasted over a small
-fire, and were crying out in its anguish; for long-drawn plaintive
-sounds alternate with shrill cries, sudden shrieks with faint moanings.
-From the high-lying parts of the forest, where there are small bare
-patches, resound the far-reaching metallic trumpet-tones with which
-the crested crane accompanies his graceful, lively dances in honour
-of his mate, and these awaken an echo in the forest, as well as in
-the throat of every bird possessed, like himself, of a ringing voice, so
-that his cry is the signal for a simultaneous outburst of song from
-a large number of other birds. Thus incited, every bird with
-any voice at all gives utterance to it, and for a time a flood of
-varied sounds drowns the individual voices. But it is not only the
-different species of feathered inhabitants of the forest who thus take
-different parts in the piece; sometimes even the two sexes of one
-species each sing a different part. The babbling thrushes, plantain-eaters,
-francolins, and guinea-fowl scream together like the barbets
-already described, and thus evoke those strange complex phrases,
-which ring out distinctly from the general confusion of voices. But
-in a few species, particularly in the bush-shrikes, the male and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</span>
-female each sing a distinct part. In one species which I observed&mdash;the
-scarlet shrike&mdash;the male sings a short strophe, reminding one
-of the intricate whistle of our golden oriole. In another&mdash;the flute-shrike&mdash;the
-male utters three bell-like flute-notes, striking third,
-key-note, and octave. Immediately following comes the answer of
-the female, in both cases a disagreeable croaking not easily described,
-but as unfailingly correct in time as if the birds had been instructed
-by a musician. Sometimes it happens that the female begins, and
-croaks four or five times before the answer comes; then the male
-strikes in again, and they alternate with their usual regularity. I
-have convinced myself experimentally as to this co-operation of the
-sexes, by shooting now the male and now the female, and in every
-case only the notes of the surviving sex could be heard. It
-must be allowed that these notes, enchanting as they are at first,
-lack the richness and variety, as the collective voices lack the
-tunefulness and harmony, of the bird songs in our woods at home;
-nevertheless it is a grand and impressive melody which one hears
-in the primitive forest in spring-time when hundreds and thousands
-of voices mingle together, millions of insects swarm with loud bumming
-and buzzing round the blossom-laden trees, countless lizards
-and snakes rustle through the dry foliage, and every now and then
-the shrill yet sonorous call of the eagle sounds down from above,
-the trumpet notes of the crested crane or the guinea-fowl are heard
-for the time above all other voices, immediately afterwards a
-warbler sings his charming song quite close to the listener’s ear, and
-again, one of the screamers gives the key-note, which awakes an
-echo from a thousand throats.</p>
-
-<p>If the naturalist succeeds in becoming more at home in the
-forest than he had at first ventured to hope, he gets many delightful
-glimpses of the domestic life of animals, and more particularly of
-birds. It is still spring-time, and love reigns in all hearts. The
-birds sing and caress, build their nests, and brood. Even from the
-boat one can observe the brooding colonies of some species.</p>
-
-<p>On a perpendicular part of the river bank, at a safe distance
-above the high-water mark, the bee-eaters have hollowed out their
-deep brooding burrows, narrow at the entrance, but widening out<span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</span>
-into an oven-like form at the inner end. The whole colony only
-covers a few square yards, though it consists of at least thirty, and
-more frequently from eighty to a hundred pairs. The circular
-openings to the various holes, measuring only from one and a
-half to two inches in diameter, are not more than six inches distant
-from each other. It is difficult to understand how each pair
-knows the entrance to its own hole; yet even when they come from
-a distance the delicately-winged active birds fly straight to the
-proper holes without hesitation or apparent consideration; their
-incomparably sharp eyes, which can detect a passing fly a hundred
-paces away, never mislead them. The bustling life about the colony
-is a fascinating sight. Every tree or bush in the neighbourhood
-is decorated with at least one pair of the beautiful, sociable birds;
-on every branch which affords an outlook sits a pair, and each mate
-takes a tender interest in all that concerns the other. In front of
-the nest-holes the bustle is like that about a bee-hive; some glide
-in, others glide out; some come, others go; many hover continually
-around the entrance to their brooding-places. Only when night
-draws on do they disappear into their holes; then all is quiet and
-still.</p>
-
-<p>At a different part of the bank, where tall trees droop over the
-water, or are surrounded by it when it is very high, the golden
-weaver-birds have established a colony. They, too, brood in companies,
-but they build hanging nests cleverly plaited from stalks
-or fibres, and attached to the points of the outermost branches
-of the trees. No covetous monkey or other egg-robber, not even
-a snake, can approach these nests without running a risk of
-falling into the water. At least thirty, but more frequently forty
-to sixty, weaver-birds build on a single tree, and their nests give
-it a most characteristic aspect; indeed, they have a striking effect
-on the whole landscape. Unlike other birds, it is in this case not
-the females but the males who build the nest, and they do it with
-such unstinted eagerness that they make work for themselves after
-they have finished what is really necessary. Carrying in their
-bills a stalk newly bitten off, or a teased-out fibre, they hang by
-their feet to a twig, or to the nest itself, keep themselves in position<span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</span>
-by fluttering their wings, and work in their material, singing all the
-while. When one nest is built and finished inside, they proceed to
-make a second and a third; indeed, they may even pull a finished
-work to pieces again to satisfy their love of building. Thus they go
-on until the female, who has meanwhile been brooding, claims their
-assistance in the rearing of the young ones. This activity animates
-the whole colony, and the golden-yellow, mobile, active birds sitting
-or hanging in the most varied positions, are an ornament to the tree
-already decorated with their nests.</p>
-
-<p>On the mimosas, which are leafless just at the general brooding
-time, the cow-weaver birds have erected structures very large for
-the size of the birds, which are scarcely so large as our starlings.
-Their nests are placed among the thickest branches at the top of
-the thorny mimosas, and as they are made entirely of thorny twigs
-on the outside, they have much the appearance of a scrubbing-brush;
-they are often more than a yard long, half as high and
-broad, and enclose roomy brooding-chambers entered by winding
-tunnels corresponding to the size of the birds, and impassable to
-other animals. On these trees, and about these nests, too, there is
-much lively and noisy bustle.</p>
-
-<p>In the heart of the forest itself an attentive observer finds nests
-everywhere, though it is often difficult to recognize them. Little
-finches, for instance, build nests which are deceptively like heaps
-of dried grass blown together by the wind, but inside there is a
-soft, warm brooding-chamber lined with feathers; other birds choose
-building materials the colour of which is deceptively like that of the
-surroundings, while others do not build at all, but lay their earth-coloured
-eggs on the bare ground. Every cavity in the trees is now
-inhabited, and woodpeckers, barbets, and parrots are constantly at
-work making new chambers, or widening and adapting already
-existing cavities into brooding-holes, while the hornbills, on the
-other hand, busy themselves plastering up the too-wide entrances.
-The last-named birds are specially distinctive in their brooding
-habits, and deserve to be mentioned first.</p>
-
-<p>When the hornbill by ardent wooing has won a mate, he helps her
-to seek out a suitable hole to serve as a nest. This found, he labours<span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</span>
-painfully with his clumsy bill to enlarge it to the required size. Then
-the female prepares to lay her eggs, and both mates plaster up the
-entrance, the female working from the inside, the male from the
-outside, until all is closed up save an opening large enough for the
-female to force her bill through. Shut off from the outer world
-in this isolated brooding-chamber, the female sits on her eggs, and
-the male has to feed not only his imprisoned mate, but later the
-quickly-growing ever hungry young ones, which remain in captivity
-until they are fully fledged. Then the mother breaks open the
-entrance from within, and the whole family emerges to the world
-fat and in good feather, thereby relieving from further toil the husband
-and father, who is reduced to a skeleton with the labour and
-anxiety of filling so many mouths.<a id="FNanchor_52" href="#Footnote_52" class="fnanchor">[51]</a></p>
-
-<p>Similar conjugal and paternal tenderness is exhibited by the
-umber-bird, a stork-like bird about the size of a raven, which leads
-a quiet, nocturnal life in the forest, and builds an enormous nest, one
-of the most remarkable built by any bird. These nests are usually
-placed at but a short distance from the ground, in forks of the trunk,
-or on any thick boughs of the lower part of the crown that are strong
-enough to bear them; for they exceed the nests of the largest birds
-of prey in circumference and weight, being often from one and a
-half to two yards in diameter and not much less in height, and consisting
-of fairly thick branches and twigs, which are neatly stuck
-together or mortared with clay. If one does not happen to notice
-how the umber-bird slips out and in one would never imagine that
-these structures were hollow, but would rather take them for the
-eyrie of a bird of prey, especially as eagles and horned owls frequently
-nest on the top of them. But when one has seen the real
-owner enter, and has inspected the nest closely, one finds that the
-interior is divided into three compartments, connected by holes
-which serve as doors, and further observation reveals that these three
-compartments answer the purpose of hall, reception or dining room,
-and brooding-chamber. This last room, the farthest back, is slightly
-higher than the rest, so that if any water should get in it can flow
-away; but the whole structure is so excellently built that even
-heavy and long-continuing showers of rain do very little damage.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</span>
-Within the brooding-chamber, on a soft cushion of sedge and other
-materials, lie the three, four, or five white eggs on which the
-female sits; in the middle chamber the male meantime stores up all
-sorts of provisions, a bountiful supply of fish, frogs, lizards, and
-other dainties which he has caught, so that his mate can choose from
-these stores, and has only to reach forward to satisfy her hunger;
-in the entrance chamber the male stands or sits, whenever he is not
-busy hunting for food, to keep guard and to cheer his mate with
-his society, until the growing offspring take up the whole attention
-of both.<a id="FNanchor_53" href="#Footnote_53" class="fnanchor">[52]</a></p>
-
-<p>The association of umber-bird and eagle or horned owl is not a
-solitary instance of friendly companionship on the part of birds
-belonging to different species and totally unlike in their habits.
-On the broad, fan-like leaves of the magnificent duleb-palm, which
-stand out horizontally from the trunk, the nests of the dwarf peregrine
-falcon and the guinea-dove often stand so close together that
-the falcon could easily grasp one of his neighbour’s young ones.
-But he does not touch them, for he is only accustomed to attack
-birds on the wing, and thus the little doves grow up in safety beside
-the little falcons, and the parents of both often sit peacefully beside
-each other, near their respective nests.<a id="FNanchor_54" href="#Footnote_54" class="fnanchor">[53]</a></p>
-
-<p>Another palm gave me an opportunity of observing birds whose
-brooding surprised and fascinated me greatly. Round a single tom-palm
-there flew, with constant cries, small-sized swifts, nearly related
-to our own swifts, and my attention was thus directed to the
-tree itself. On close observation I saw that the birds frequently
-repaired between the leaves, and I then discovered on the grooves
-of the leaf-stalks light points which I took to be nests. I climbed
-the tree, bent one of the leaves towards me, and saw that each nest,
-which was made chiefly of cotton, was plastered firmly in the angle
-between the stalk and the midrib of the leaf, cemented by salivary
-secretion, after the method usually followed by swifts. But the
-hollow of the nest appeared to me so flat that I wondered how the
-two eggs could remain lying when the leaf was shaken by the wind.
-And it must have shaken with the slightest breath, not to speak of
-the storms which often raged here! Carefully I reached out my<span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</span>
-hand to take out the eggs; then I saw with astonishment that the
-mother had glued them firmly to the nest. And as I examined
-newly-hatched, tiny, helpless young birds, I saw, with increasing
-astonishment, that they, too, were attached to the nest in the same
-way, and were thus secured from falling out.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f36">
-<img src="images/fig36.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 32.&mdash;Long-tailed Monkeys.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Apart from the birds, which continually attract the naturalist’s
-attention by their omnipresence, beauty, vivacity and nimbleness,
-as well as by their songs, or rather cries; apart also from the very
-numerous lizards and snakes, or the abundant insects, even a careful
-observer can see very little of the other denizens of the primeval
-forest, and especially little of its mammals. But one can hardly fail to
-see a band of long-tailed monkeys, for the liveliness and restlessness
-characteristic of these and of all the African monkeys is sure to
-bring them sooner or later before the most unobservant eye, and
-their continual gurgling noises must reach the ear; yet one may<span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</span>
-pass within a few yards of most of the other mammals without
-having any idea that they are near. The great majority of the
-mammals inhabiting the primeval forest become active only after
-sundown, and return to their lairs before daybreak; but even those
-which are active and busy in full sunlight in the morning and
-evening are by no means so easily seen as might be imagined, for
-the thickness of the forest stands them in good stead. A European
-with whom I hunted in the primeval forest said to me: “Did you
-see that leopard that bounded from me towards you a few minutes
-ago? I could not shoot for I had not my gun in order; but you
-must have seen him.” He was wrong; I had not seen the great
-beast, so dense was the undergrowth in the forest. Where it is less
-dense another fact has its importance: the colour-resemblance
-between the mammals and their surroundings. The grayish lemur,
-which sits or sleeps huddled up high up on a branch spun over with
-lichens, resembles a knob or protuberance so clearly and convincingly
-that its form is only made out when the sportsman, taught
-by former experience, uses his glass and observes it keenly; the bat,
-which hangs high up in the crown of another tree, also looks like
-an outgrowth or a withered leaf; even the spotted skin of the
-leopard may be a faithful mimicry of the dry leaves and flowering
-euphorbias, and I myself once had to advance with cocked rifle
-to within fifteen paces of a bush in which a leopard had taken
-shelter before I could distinguish the animal from his surroundings.
-The same holds true of the forest antelopes, and indeed of all the
-mammals, and they know that this is so.<a id="FNanchor_55" href="#Footnote_55" class="fnanchor">[54]</a> Not everywhere, but
-here and there throughout the forest, and then always abundantly,
-there lives a little antelope, the bush or Salt’s antelope. It is one of
-the most charming of all ruminants, most gracefully built, not
-bigger than a fawn a few days old, and of a foxy, gray-blue colour.
-It lives with a mate in the thickest undergrowth of the forest,
-choosing for its lair or habitual resting-place a bush which is
-branched and leafy to the ground, and thence treading out narrow
-paths in all directions through the thicket. I have often shot the
-animal; but at first it escaped me as it escapes all the travellers and
-sportsmen who make its acquaintance. I could never see it except<span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</span>
-when, if startled, it flew past me like an arrow. “Look, sir, there,
-in front of you in the nearest bush is a little antelope; it is down
-there in the gap between the two thickly-leaved branches,” whispered
-my native guide in my ear. I strained every nerve, penetrated
-every part of the bush with my gaze, and saw nothing but branches
-and leaves, for the graceful legs had become twigs, the head and
-body a leafy bough. But
-the sportsman’s eye becomes
-accustomed in time
-even to the primeval
-forest. When one has
-become familiar with the
-dainty creature’s habits,
-one learns to find it as
-well as the sharp-sighted
-natives do. Its acute
-hearing warns it of the
-approach of a man long
-before he can see any
-trace of its presence.
-Scared by the rustle of
-heavy human footsteps it
-starts up from its lair,
-takes a few steps forwards,
-and steps into some
-gap from which to see
-what happens. Like a bronze statue it stands stiff and motionless,
-without even moving an ear or turning an eye, but looking
-and listening; the leg which was raised to step onwards remains in
-that position, not a sign betrays life. Now is the time for the
-sportsman to raise his gun quickly, take aim and shoot; a moment
-later the cunning antelope has gained the cover of a neighbouring
-bush at a single bound, or has bent slowly down and crept away so
-quietly that scarcely a leaf stirs, scarcely a blade of grass moves.</p>
-
-<div class="figright" id="f37">
-<img src="images/fig37.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 33.&mdash;Salt’s Antelope (<i>Antilope Saltiana</i>).</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>The primeval forest thus presents a succession of varied pictures
-to the traveller’s eye. If one has learnt to see, and attempts to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</span>
-understand, one finds more in every part of the forest at every
-season than one can master. But one does not see the same things
-at every spot, and at every season. Here, where spring lasts only
-a few weeks, and summer and autumn are counted by days, the long
-reign of winter sets in directly after the rainy season, just as in the
-steppe, and the full, rich, overflowing life of animals and plants is
-crowded into a very short time. As soon as the birds have finished
-brooding they begin to migrate; as soon as the mammals have
-exhausted the food-supply in one part of the forest they betake
-themselves to another. Consequently one meets different animals
-in the same spot at different times, or at least one sees different
-aspects of animal life. The river, for instance, becomes animated in
-proportion as the forest becomes depopulated.</p>
-
-<p>While the river is high, one does not see much of the animals
-which live in and about the water. All the islands are deeply
-buried under the water, the banks are likewise flooded, and the
-birds which usually inhabit them are crowded out for the time.
-And if a crocodile should raise his head and part of his scaly back
-above the water, he must be close to the boat if one sees him at all.
-Strictly speaking, there remain only the hippopotamuses, which are
-comparatively abundant in some parts, the birds flying about over
-the water, and perhaps a few diving-birds to prove that any higher
-vertebrates live in and about the river. But, when the rain has
-ceased, the river falls, and all the islands, sand-banks, and the river-banks
-themselves stand out once more. The scene is changed also
-as far as the animal world is concerned. The hippopotamuses retire
-to the deepest parts of the river, associating in troops sometimes of
-considerable strength, and making themselves very conspicuous as
-they come to the surface to breathe, each breath being inhaled with
-a snort which can be heard a long way off. During the day they
-land on islands or sand-banks to rest or stretch themselves in the sun,
-and they can then be seen from a distance of more than half a mile.
-The crocodiles eagerly enjoy a pleasure they had to forego while
-the river was high, that of sunning themselves for hours in the
-heat of the day. To this end they creep out about mid-day on a
-flat, sandy island, fall heavily with an audible plump on the sand,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</span>
-open their formidably-toothed jaws wide, and sleep till evening;
-there may be ten, twenty, or thirty of them on a single sand-bank.
-Now the sand-banks, both river-banks, and the shores of the larger
-islands are covered with flocks of birds whose numerical strength
-is most impressive. For, by this time of year most of the native
-shore-birds and swimming-birds have ended their brooding labours,
-and frequent the shores of the river with their young to enjoy, while
-they are moulting, the abundant and easily-procured food. About
-the same time, too, the migratory birds from the north arrive to
-pass the winter here. The last-named are also to be found in every
-part of the primeval forest, but are not nearly so much in evidence
-there as by the river, whose banks and islands are covered by the
-largest and most conspicuous species. It may even happen that the
-available space by the river is too small, the rich supply of food
-insufficient for the number of claimants. Thus every space is more
-than fully occupied, every promising hunting-ground is visited by
-thousands, every sleeping-place even is fought over. For three
-days I sailed, in an excellent boat and with a very good wind, up
-the White Nile, and during the whole long journey both banks
-were uninterruptedly covered with a gay and motley throng of
-littoral and aquatic birds. In the midst of the forests about the
-Blue Nile one can see a similar sight. Extensive sand-banks are
-completely covered by gray and demoiselle cranes, but they only
-serve these winter visitors as resting, sleeping, and moulting places,
-from whence they fly out every morning into the steppe in search of
-food, returning about mid-day to drink, bathe, dress their feathers,
-and to spend the night, though they are in continual danger from
-the crocodiles. Regularly about mid-day they are joined by several
-crowned cranes whose visit always causes lively excitement, for
-they are, if not better, at least more ardent dancers than the other
-cranes, and on their arrival they never fail to exhibit their skill,
-and thus to incite the others to rivalry. On the same sand-banks
-one may often see tantalus-ibises, magnificent stork-like birds, with
-rosy-white plumage and brilliant rose-red wings, which take possession
-of the extreme edge of the island or the neighbouring damp
-places. In a good light they literally glow, and they are at all times<span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</span>
-beautiful, contrasting wonderfully with the light gray cranes, and
-decorating the whole neighbourhood. Splendid giant or saddle-billed
-storks step proudly along the shores; ugly, but curiously-formed
-marabous walk up and down with an air of dignity; glittering, open-bill
-storks stand in large companies; giant and great white herons
-wade about in search of fish; and everywhere standing and lying,
-swimming and diving, grazing and grubbing, cackling and chattering
-are thousands of Spur-winged, Egyptian, and other geese,
-widow and pintail ducks, African darters, ibises, curlews, sandpipers,
-dunlins, redshanks, and many more, a motley throng which
-decorates the stream even more than the tantalus ibises. But, in
-addition to all those mentioned, some of whom are constantly
-coming and going, there fly terns and gulls, sand-martins and bee-eaters,
-while splendid sea-eagles wheel in circles high up in the air.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f38">
-<img src="images/fig38.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 34.&mdash;Crocodile and Crocodile-birds (<i>Pluxianus ægyptius</i>).</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>There are some members of this bird-fauna, so rich in every
-respect, who have to wait till the water is at its lowest before they
-can begin to brood, for, when the river is full, they are quite unable
-to find such nesting-places as they desire. Among these is a running
-bird, prettily and gaily coloured, clever and vivacious by nature,
-which was well known to the ancients as the Crocodile-bird or the
-Trochilus of Herodotus. Of it the old historian relates, as Pliny
-repeats on his authority, that it lives in true friendship with the
-crocodile. And this old story is no fable, as one might be inclined
-to suppose, but is based on solid facts, which I have myself been
-able to verify.<a id="FNanchor_56" href="#Footnote_56" class="fnanchor">[55]</a> The crocodile-bird, whose image is so often represented
-on the ancient Egyptian monuments, and stands for U in the
-hieroglyphic alphabet, occurs in Egypt and Nubia, but nowadays
-it seems to be only in the Soudan that it discharges, on the crocodile’s
-behalf, those sentinel duties for which it was famous among
-the ancient peoples. But the service it renders is not to the crocodile
-alone, but to all other creatures who are willing to take advantage
-of its watchfulness. Observant, inquisitive, excitable, clamorous,
-and gifted with a far-reaching voice, it is well fitted to serve
-as watchman to all less careful creatures. No approach, whether of
-beast of prey or of man, escapes its suspicious observation; every
-sailing-boat or rowing-boat on the river attracts its attention; and
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</span>it never fails to tell of its discovery in loud cries. Thus it brings
-under the notice of all the other creatures who share its home or
-resting-place the unusual occurrence, enabling them either to find
-out for themselves if there is really any danger, or to make good
-their escape on the strength of its warning. Thus it discharges the
-duties of a sentinel. Its friendly relations with the crocodile can
-hardly be called mutual, for to credit the crocodile with friendship
-is going rather far. Certainly the reptile treats the bird as
-a harmless creature, but this is not out of any benevolence,
-but simply because he has a thorough knowledge and a correct
-estimate of his partner. And as to the bird, it is at home on the
-sand-banks where the crocodile is wont to rest, and has been from
-its youth accustomed to the monster; it busies itself about him and
-associates itself with him, as if he were the master and itself the
-servant. Without hesitation it hops on his back as he rests; without
-apprehension it approaches his gaping jaws to see if there be perchance
-a leech sucking his lips, or if there be some morsel of food
-sticking between his teeth; and without misgiving it darts off with
-either. All this the crocodile quietly allows, for doubtless he has
-learned by experience that he cannot get at the ever watchful, agile,
-and clever little rogue. I once saw a crocodile-bird having a meal
-along with a screaming sea-eagle off a fish, which the latter had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</span>
-caught and borne to a sand-bank. While the eagle, which held its
-booty firmly in its talons or stood upon it, was breaking off pieces
-of the flesh, the parasite at the lordly bird’s table kept at a respectful
-distance; but as soon as the eagle raised its head to swallow, the
-crocodile-bird ran forward, seized one of the prepared fragments,
-and was off again to his old position, there to enjoy his stolen goods.
-Not less astonishing than this self-possessed audacity is the way in
-which the crocodile-bird hides its eggs from prying eyes. For long
-I searched in vain for the nest. When the brooding period set in
-was readily enough discovered by dissecting a specimen which I
-killed; and that the bird must nest on the sand-bank I was already
-convinced from my observation of its mode of life. But it was in
-vain that I searched their favourite spots; not a hint of a nest could
-I find. At last I observed a pair, one sitting on the ground, the other
-busying itself round about; I brought my field-glass to bear upon
-the sitting bird and made straight for it. As I came near it rose,
-hastily scraped some sand together, and flew off, uttering its usual
-cry, but without any other signs of excitement. I was not diverted
-from my purpose, but advanced carefully, keeping the exact spot
-always in view. But even when I reached the place I could see no
-nest, and it was not till I noticed a slight unevenness in the sand, and
-dug carefully with my fingers, that I found what I sought, two eggs
-most deceptively like the sand in their colour and markings. Had the
-mother-bird been allowed more time than I gave her, it is not likely
-that I should ever have noticed the slight unevenness in the sand.</p>
-
-<p>Even richer, if that be possible, than the fauna of the river, and
-at any rate more diverse, is that to be found at the proper season
-on the shores and surface of all the lakes and larger water-pools
-which lie within the forest and are filled either by the spring rains
-or by the full floods of the river. Surrounded by the forest, and
-not unfrequently so thickly hedged round that one cannot reach
-them without great difficulty, and more immediately fringed by a
-scarcely less rich vegetation of canes and reed-thickets, where the
-papyrus and the lotos still flourish, these rain-lakes, or <i>Fulat</i> as the
-natives call them, afford most excellent resting-stations and breeding-places
-for the most diverse kinds of beasts and birds.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</span></p>
-
-<p>Their safe seclusion pleases even the hippopotamus so well that
-it seeks them out as fit places where to bring forth and suckle,
-tend and rear its young, safe from dangerous intruders, and without
-trouble as to food, which the water supplies in abundance. Wild
-hogs and buffaloes are also attracted to the luxuriant fringe of vegetation
-and to the creeks which gradually pass into swamp and bog.
-To all the thirsty race of antelopes the quiet pools afford welcome
-supplies. On the surface thousands of pelicans gather in the evenings,
-and fish greedily before they go to roost on the tall trees near
-by; all day long the darters dive; many ducks and geese swim about,
-both native species and those which have come from the north to
-these comfortable winter-quarters; in the creeks and shallows the
-giant-herons and the beautiful little bush-herons secure rich booty
-at small cost of exertion; countless hosts of little birds are sheltered
-among the green, sappy herbage of the shore, and many other shore-and
-water-birds find resting-places and build their nests on the overtowering
-trees of the forest.</p>
-
-<p>It is no wonder, then, that these lakes should periodically swarm
-with birds; and it is likewise plain that such great wealth of booty
-must also attract all sorts of enemies. The smaller birds are followed
-by the falcons and owls, the larger birds by the eagle and
-horned owl, the mammals by the fox and jackal, the leopard and the
-lion. Sometimes, too, an army of voracious locusts coming in from
-the steppe falls upon the fresh green girdle around such a lake and
-ravages it in a few days, devouring all the leaves. Or one should
-rather say threatening to devour, for at such a time the assemblage
-of birds becomes even larger than before. From far and near they
-come flocking&mdash;falcons and owls, ravens and rollers, francolins and
-guinea-fowl, storks and ibises, coots and ducks. Every bird that
-ever eats insects now confines itself exclusively to the pertinacious
-visitors. Hundreds of kestrels and lesser kestrels, which are then
-in these winter-quarters, sweep over the invaded forest, and swoop
-down upon the locusts, seizing and devouring them, with scarce an
-interruption in their flight. Ravens, rollers, hornbills, ibises, and
-storks pick them off the branches of the trees and shake down hundreds
-which fall victims to the guinea-fowl, ducks, and other birds<span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</span>
-waiting underneath. Harriers and chanting hawks circle around
-the trees on which the “defoliating” insects soon take the place of
-the leaves that were. Even the sedate marabous and saddle-billed
-storks do not disdain to avail themselves of booty whose abundance
-compensates for the paltry size of the individual victims. All this
-bustle greatly enhances the liveliness of a scene which is at no time
-dull, and makes the lake more than ever a rendezvous of the most
-diverse forms of life.</p>
-
-<p>At one of these rain-lakes&mdash;very treasure-house of the forest’s
-riches&mdash;we spent several days, hunting, observing, and collecting,
-almost wild with delight in, and admiration of the splendid flora and
-fauna. We amused ourselves with hunting hippopotamus, and executed
-justice on the crocodile; we enjoyed to the full the pleasures of
-exploration and of the chase, forgetful of everything else, even of the
-time we spent. But when the sun went down and tinged with gold
-the varied greens of the forest; when the chattering of the parrots
-was hushed and only the ecstatic song of a thrush floated down to
-us; when, over there on the opposite bank, the sea-eagle, which a
-moment ago had seemed like some wonderful blossom on the top of
-his green perch, drowsily drew his white head between his shoulders;
-when silence fell even on the guttural gossip of a band of long-tailed
-monkeys, who had gone to rest on the nearest lofty mimosa; when
-the night came on with its clear pleasant twilight, cool and mild,
-melodious and fragrant, as it always is at this season: then would
-all the wealth of colour, all the splendour and glamour of to-day’s
-and yesterday’s pictures fade away. Our thoughts flew homewards,
-and irresistible home-sickness filled our hearts, for in the Fatherland
-they were celebrating Christmas. We had prepared our punch and
-filled our pipes with the most precious of tobaccos; our Albanian
-companion sang his soft melancholy song; the beauty of the night
-soothed our hearts and senses; but the glasses remained unemptied,
-“the clouds of smoke did not bear the clouds of melancholy with
-them”; the songs awoke no responsive echo, and the night brought
-no solace. But it <i>must</i> bring us a Christmas gift, and it did!</p>
-
-<p>Night in the primeval forest is always grand: the sky above
-may be illumined with flaming lightning, the thunder may roll, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</span>
-the wind may rage through the trees; or it may be that the dark
-starless heaven is relieved only by the slender rays of far-distant
-suns, while no leaf or blade of grass is stirred. A few minutes
-after sunset, night descends upon the forest. What was clearly seen
-by day is now veiled by darkness, what was seen in its true proportions
-in the sunlight now becomes gigantic. Familiar trees become
-phantasms, the hedge-like bushes thicken to dark walls. The noise
-of a thousand voices is stilled, and for a few minutes a deep silence
-prevails. Then life begins to stir again, the river and the forest are
-again alive. Hundreds of cicadas raise their chirping, like the
-jingle of many badly-tuned little bells heard from a distance; thousands
-of restless beetles, some very large, whirr about the flowering
-trees with a deep humming, fit accompaniment to the cicadas’ chirping.
-Frogs add their single note, surprisingly loud for their size,
-and their voices ring through the forest, like the sound of a slowly-beaten
-Chinese gong. A great owl greets the night with its dull
-hooting; a little screech-owl responds with shrill laughter; a goat-sucker
-spins off the single strophe of his rattling song. From the
-river come the plaintive cries of a nocturnal member of the gull
-family, the skimmer or shearwater, which begins to plough the
-waves, skimming along the surface of the water; from the islands
-and banks sound the somewhat screeching cries of the thickknee or
-stone-curlew, and the rich, melodious, song-like trills of the redshank
-or the plover; among the reeds and sedges of a neighbouring
-pool croaks a night-heron. Hundreds of glowworms sparkle among
-the bushes and the tree-tops; a gigantic crocodile, which had left
-its sand-bank before sundown to bathe its heated coat of mail in the
-tepid water, is swimming half beneath and half above the surface
-of the water, and making long streaks of silver which shine in
-the moonlight, or at least glitter in the flickering light of the
-stars. Above the tallest trees float noiseless companies of horned
-and other owls; long-tailed night-jars fly with graceful curves
-along the river bank; bats describe their tortuous course among
-the trees; fox-bats and fruit-eating bats cross from bank to
-bank, sometimes in flocks. This is the time of activity among the
-other mammals too. A jackal utters its varied call, now plaintive,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</span>
-now merry, and continues with equal expressiveness and persistence;
-a dozen others join in at once, and strive in eager rivalry for the
-victor’s crown; some hyænas who seem just to have been waiting
-for these unrivalled leaders to begin, join the chorus. They howl
-and laugh, moan piteously, and shout triumphantly; a panther
-grunts, a lion roars; even a hippopotamus in the river lifts up his
-paltry voice and grunts.</p>
-
-<p>Thus does night reveal itself in the primeval forest; thus did it
-claim ear and eye on that never-to-be-forgotten day. Beetles and
-cicadas, owls and goat-suckers had begun: then a loud, rumbling
-noise, as of trumpets blown by unskilful mouths, resounded through
-the forest. At once the songs of our Albanian, and the chattering
-of our servants and sailors were hushed; all listened as we did.
-Once more came the trumpeting and rumbling from the opposite
-bank. “<i>El fiuhl, el fiuhl!</i>” called the natives; “Elephants, elephants!”
-we, too, exclaimed triumphantly. It was the first time
-that we had seen and heard the giant pachyderms, though we had
-constantly trodden their paths and followed their traces. From the
-opposite bank the great forms, which could be plainly enough seen
-in the twilight, descended leisurely and confidently to the water, to
-drink and bathe. One after another dipped his supple trunk in the
-water, to fill it, and discharge it into his wide mouth, or over his
-back and shoulders; one after another descended into the river to
-refresh himself in the cooling flood. Then the noises became so great
-that it seemed as if the elephants’ trumpeting had acted as an awakening
-call. Earlier than ever before, the king of the wilderness raised
-his thundering voice; a second and a third lion responded to the
-kingly greeting. The sleep-drunken monkeys and the timid antelopes
-cried out in terror. A hippopotamus reared his uncouth head
-quite close to our boat, and growled as if he would emulate the lion’s
-roar; a leopard also made himself heard; jackals gave vent to the
-most varied song we had ever heard from them, the striped hyænas
-howled, the spotted ones uttered their hellish, blood-curdling laughter,
-and, careless of the uproar which the heralds and the king of
-the forest had conjured up, the frogs continued to utter their monotonous
-call, and the cicadas their bell-like chirping.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</span></p>
-
-<p>Thus was the “Hosanna in the Highest” sung in our ears by the
-primeval forest.</p>
-
-
-<hr class="full x-ebookmaker-drop" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="c10">THE MIGRATIONS OF MAMMALS.</h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>The love of travel, as we understand it, is not found among animals,
-not even among the birds, whose sublime powers of flight over
-land and sea so much excite our envy. For no animals wander,
-careless and free, like the travellers who go forth to study the
-manners and customs of other lands; they cling to the soil even
-more closely than we do, and they are bound to the place of their
-birth, by habit or indolence, more closely than we are by our love of
-home. When it does happen that they forsake their birthplace, it
-is in obedience to stern necessity,&mdash;to escape impending starvation.
-But want and misery are too often their lot in the joyless lands to
-which they migrate, and so they experience little but the pain and
-toil of travel.</p>
-
-<p>This holds true of wandering fishes and of migrating birds,
-but more particularly of those mammals which undertake periodic
-migrations. Few of them do this with the same regularity, but all
-do it for the same reasons, as fishes and birds. They migrate to
-escape from scarcity of food, already felt or at least threatening, and
-their journeying is therefore rather a flight from destruction than a
-striving to reach happier fields.</p>
-
-<p>By the migrations of mammals I mean neither the excursions
-which result in an extension of their range of distribution, nor the
-ordinary expeditions in search of food, but those journeys which
-lead certain mammals, at regular or irregular intervals, far beyond
-the boundaries of their home, into countries where they are compelled
-to adopt a mode of life which is foreign to them, and which
-they will abandon as soon as it is possible, or seems possible to do
-so. Such journeys correspond closely to the regular migrations of
-fishes and birds, and a knowledge of the former helps us to an
-understanding of the latter.</p>
-
-<p>Excursions beyond their actual place of sojourn are made by all<span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</span>
-mammals for various reasons. Males, particularly old males, are
-more inclined to roam about than the females and the young of
-their species, and forsake one district for another without apparent
-reason; the younger males among gregarious species are often driven
-out and forced to wander by the old leaders of the herd; mothers
-with their young are fond of rambling about the neighbourhood
-where the latter were born; and the two sexes wander about in
-search of one another. During such expeditions the animal chances
-to light on what seems to him a promising dwelling-place, a district
-rich in food, a sheltering thicket, or a safe hiding-hole. He stays
-there for some time, and, finally, it may be, settles down in this new
-Canaan. Experienced sportsmen know that a preserve in which all
-the game has been shot will sooner or later receive reinforcements
-from without, and, under favourable circumstances, will be peopled
-anew; and all must have noticed that a fox or badger burrow is not
-easily destroyed, for it finds new occupants again and again, however
-ruthless the persecution to which they may be subjected. As
-it is with game, whose coming and going, appearing and disappearing
-are noted by thousands, so is it with other mammals which are
-less eagerly watched. A constant emigration and immigration cannot
-be denied. In consequence of this, the range of distribution of
-any species is constantly being extended, unless hindered by physical
-conditions, or by human and other enemies.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f39">
-<img src="images/fig39.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 35.&mdash;A Wild Duck defending her Brood from a Brown Rat.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Till the end of the first half of last century our forefathers
-shared their dwellings with the black rat, and knew the brown rat
-only by hearsay, if at all. The first was a rat with many, but not
-all the vices of its race. It lived in our houses, ate grain, fat, and
-all kinds of provisions, gnawed doors, boards, and furniture, racketed
-at night like a noisy ghost through old castles and other spook-favouring
-buildings, caused much annoyance, many a fright,
-strengthened superstition and the fear of ghosts in many a mind; but
-it was possible to live with it, one could manage to get along. A
-capable cat held it in check; a skilful rat-catcher was more than a
-match for it. Then its most terrible enemy appeared, and its star
-began to wane. In 1727, swarms of brown rats, which seem to have
-come from India, either directly or by way of Persia, were seen to
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</span>swim the Volga, and we soon learned what awaited Europe. Following
-canals and rivers, the brown rats reached villages and towns,
-entered, in spite of men and cats, the lower stories of our dwellings,
-filled vaults and cellars, ascended gradually to the garrets, ousted its
-relative after long and inexorable warfare, made itself master in our
-own houses, and showed us in a thousand ways what a rat could
-do. It possessed and exercised <i>all</i> the vices of its family, mocked
-at all our attempts to drive it away, and remained in possession of
-the field, which, up till now, we have tried to wrest from it with
-dogs and cats, by traps and snares, poison and shooting. Almost at
-the same time as it swam over the Volga, it reached Europe by another
-route, coming from the East Indies to England on board ship.
-Then began its world-wanderings. In East Prussia it appeared as
-early as 1750, in Paris three years later, Central Germany was conquered<span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</span>
-in 1780, and here, as everywhere else, the towns were first
-colonized, and the flat country round taken in by degrees. Villages
-not easily reached, that is to say, not lying on river-banks, were
-only invaded in the last decade of this century: in my boyhood it
-was still unknown in my native village, and the black rat, now
-being crowded out even there, held undisputed possession of many
-places where its rival now reigns supreme. Many isolated farms
-were only reached later, about the middle of the present century,
-but the victorious march still goes on. Not content with having
-discovered and conquered Europe, towards the end of last century
-the brown rat set out on new journeys. In the sea-ports already
-colonized, the rats swam out to the ships, climbed on board by the
-anchor chains, cables, or any other available ladders, took possession
-of the dark, protecting hold, crossed all seas, landed on all coasts,
-and peopled every country and island, where its chosen protector
-and compulsory host&mdash;civilized man&mdash;has founded homesteads.
-Against our will we have helped it, or at any rate made it possible
-for it, to carry out a greater extension of range than has been attained
-by any other mammal not in subjection to man.<a id="FNanchor_57" href="#Footnote_57" class="fnanchor">[56]</a></p>
-
-<p>Another remarkable illustration of wandering is afforded by the
-souslik, a destructive rodent about the size of a hamster, belonging
-to the family of squirrels and sub-family of marmots. Eastern
-Europe and Western Siberia are its head-quarters. Albertus Magnus
-observed it in the neighbourhood of Ratisbon, where it is now no
-longer found, though it has recently appeared in Silesia. Forty or
-fifty years ago it was unknown here, but, at the end of the forties
-or beginning of the fifties, it appeared no one could tell whence, and
-from that time it has pressed slowly westward. Its migrations, too,
-have been helped by man, for, though it is not confined to cultivated
-fields, these afford the habitat most suited to its taste.</p>
-
-<p>The same holds true of many species of mice, which extend their
-territories as the soil is cultivated. On the other hand, man narrows
-the possible range of many mammals by deforesting, by draining
-marshes, and by otherwise changing the character of whole tracts of
-country. In this way, far more than by direct persecution, he does
-much to influence the migration of the mammals which have established<span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</span>
-themselves in these areas. For the fundamental law holds
-good for mammals as for other creatures, that suitable districts, and
-these only, will be colonized sooner or later, notwithstanding the
-arbitrary and usually rough and cruel interference of man.</p>
-
-<p>Quite different from such wanderings are the expeditions made
-by mammals to secure a temporary betterment. These are probably
-undertaken, if not by all species, at least by representatives of every
-family in the class; they vary in duration and distance, and may
-even have the character of true migrations, but they always come
-to an end after a certain time, and the wanderer ultimately returns
-to his original place of abode. The intention or hope of reaching
-better grazing or hunting grounds, the desire to profit by some
-casual opportunity for making life more comfortable, may be said
-to be the chief motive of such expeditions. They take place all the
-year round, in every latitude and longitude, even in districts where
-the conditions of life do not vary materially at different times. The
-mammal begins and ends them either alone or in bands, companies
-or herds, according as it is wont to live with its fellows; it follows
-the same routes with more or less regularity, and appears at certain
-places at approximately the same time, yet it is always guided by
-chance circumstances.</p>
-
-<p>When the fruits of the sacred fig and other trees surrounding
-the temples of the Hindoos are beginning to ripen, the Brahmins
-who tend temple and trees await with unctuous devotion the arrival
-of their four-footed gods. And not in vain, for the two divinities,
-Hulman and Bunder, two species of monkey, unfailingly appear to
-strip the luscious fruits from the trees piously planted and tended
-for their benefit, and also to rob and plunder in the neighbouring
-fields and gardens as long as it is worth while. Then they disappear
-again, to the sorrow of their worshippers and the joy of the other
-inhabitants of India, whose possessions they have ravaged, as they
-gathered in their spoils in their usual ruthless fashion. In Central
-Africa, when the chief cereal of that country, the dhurra or Kaffir-millet,
-comes to maturity, a dignified and inventive baboon, tried
-and experienced in all the critical situations of life, leads down the
-flock of which, as leader, he is justifiably proud, to see whether<span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</span>
-Cousin Man has been good enough to sow the nutritive grain for
-him this year also. Or, about the same time, a band of long-tailed
-monkeys, under not less excellent leadership, approaches the edge of
-the forest in order not to miss the right moment for a profitable,
-and, as far as possible, undisturbed ravaging of the fields. When
-the golden orange glows among the dark foliage in South American
-plantations, the capuchin monkeys make their appearance, often
-from a great distance, to share the fruit with the owner. Other
-plant-eaters too are led by the hope of gaining an easier livelihood
-into regions and districts which they usually avoid; insectivores
-periodically follow the insects when they are for the time abundant
-at this place or that, and large beasts of prey keep in the wake of
-herbivorous mammals, especially of the herds belonging to man. The
-lion journeys from place to place, following the wandering herdsmen
-on the steppes of Africa; Russian wolves followed close on
-the retreat of Napoleon’s defeated army, pursuing the unfortunate
-fugitives as far as the middle of Germany. Otters undertake
-land journeys to get from one river-basin to another; lynxes and
-wolves in winter often traverse very wide stretches of country.
-Such journeys bring about a change of residence, but they do not
-constitute a migration in the true sense of the word. It is only
-exceptionally, too, that they are undertaken from real necessity,
-which we must look upon as the cause of all true migrations; in
-most cases they are undertaken simply to gratify a passing desire.</p>
-
-<p>Quite otherwise is it with those mammals which, every year
-about the same time, leave their habitat for some other region often
-far distant, from which at a definite time they will return to their
-former abode. These migrate; for they do not seize a chance opportunity,
-but obey, consciously or unconsciously, a compelling necessity.</p>
-
-<p>The fundamental cause of all true migration among mammals,
-is some very distinct and decided seasonal change. In countries of
-everlasting spring true migrations do not take place, for want is
-never imminent. Summer must contrast with winter, whether the
-latter bring frost and snow, or heat and drought; scarcity must
-alternate with superfluity before the sluggish mammal makes up its
-mind to migrate.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</span></p>
-
-<p>To a slight extent migrations take place among all mountain
-animals. The chamois, the steinbock, the Alpine hare, the marmot
-all migrate when the snow begins to melt, or a little later; they
-clamber over hillsides and glaciers to the heights above, where the
-pasturage, now laid bare, promises rich and abundant nourishment,
-and they return to the lower slopes of the mountain before winter
-sets in. The bear, by nature omnivorous, by habit a thief, undertakes
-a similar migration at the same season, and completes it before
-winter sets in,&mdash;at least so it is in the mountains of Siberia; the
-various wild cats and dogs which live among the mountains do the
-same. Such changes of residence occur also on the mountains of
-southern countries, even of those lying within the tropics. In India
-and Africa certain species of monkey ascend and descend the mountains
-at regular intervals; elephants seek the high grounds on the
-approach of summer, the low grounds in winter; on the Andes in
-South America the guanacos flee before the snow into the valleys,
-and before the summer-heat to the shoulders of the mountains. All
-these migrations are confined by the mountains within comparatively
-narrow limits. They only involve a change of altitude of
-from three to nine thousand feet, or a journey which may be
-accomplished in a few hours, or, at most, in a few days. They have,
-however, the regularity characteristic of true migrations, especially
-in the precise periodicity of their occurrence, and not less in the
-constant choice of the same routes.</p>
-
-<p>Highlands and plain, sea and air, offer a much wider field than
-the mountains, and therefore the migrations of the animals inhabiting,
-or temporarily traversing these can be more easily observed,
-and they are more appropriately termed migratory animals than
-the dwellers among the mountains. In the tundras of Russia and
-Siberia, the reindeer, which, in Scandinavia, never leaves the mountains,
-migrates to a great distance every autumn and returns the
-following spring to his former summer haunts.<a id="FNanchor_58" href="#Footnote_58" class="fnanchor">[57]</a> About the same
-time it leaves Greenland, and, crossing the sea on a bridge of ice,
-reaches the continent of America, where it spends the whole winter,
-only returning to the hills of its native peninsula the following April.
-In both cases, dread of the approaching winter does not seem to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</span>
-be the sole cause of migration; there is at the same time a further
-incentive supplied by a plague much feared in the far north. For
-the short summer on these expanses calls to life an insect-world
-poor in species, but endlessly rich in individuals, particularly an
-indescribable number of mosquitoes and bot-flies, which make life
-a burden to the reindeer, as well as to man. To escape these the
-reindeer forsakes the marshy tundra, over which dense clouds of
-mosquitoes hover during summer, and hies to where the scourge is
-less severely felt&mdash;to the Alpine heights, which, in the summer season
-afford their most fragrant pasturage. From inherited habit, the reindeer
-migrate not only at the same time, but along the same paths,
-thus forming tracks which may be distinctly traced, traversing the
-tundra for many miles, and crossing streams and rivers at definite
-places. At the beginning of the journey, the cows with their calves
-arrange themselves in herds of from ten to a hundred, and precede
-the young stags and hinds, which are followed again by the old
-stags. One troop follows directly behind another, and the observer
-can count thousands as they pass. All hurry incessantly on, turning
-aside neither for the mountains nor the broad streams which cross
-their path, and resting only when they have reached their winter-quarters.
-Packs of wolves, bears, and gluttons follow close on their
-heels and often pursue them no small part of the way. In spring,
-on the return journey, the animals keep to the same order, but the
-herds are much smaller, and they travel in a much more leisurely
-fashion, and keep less strictly to the paths by which they went.</p>
-
-<p>Journeys still longer than those of the reindeer are taken by
-the American bison, the “buffalo” of the prairies.<a id="FNanchor_59" href="#Footnote_59" class="fnanchor">[58]</a> What distance
-individual animals travel cannot be stated with certainty, but herds
-in course of migrating have been met from Canada to Mexico, from
-the Missouri to the Rocky Mountains, and it may be assumed that
-a single herd traverses a considerable part of the country lying
-between these limits. The bisons have been seen in summer scattered
-over the boundless prairie, and in winter in the same places, but
-assembled in many thousands; their migrations have been observed,
-for they have been followed for hundreds of miles along the tracks&mdash;the
-so-called “buffalo-paths”, trodden out straight across plains<span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</span>
-and over mountains. We learn from eye-witnesses that a stream a
-mile wide is to them no barrier, scarcely even a hindrance, for they
-throw themselves into it like an irresistible avalanche, so that the
-water is covered with the dark, moving throng; that the animals
-associate and separate again, the herds increase and diminish; that
-old, surly, tyrannous, malevolent bulls avoid the other bisons,
-having perhaps been expelled from the herd, and compelled, probably
-only after protracted struggles, to live in hermit-fashion until the
-following summer; and that, during heavy snowfalls, the herds take
-shelter in the forests or on the slopes of the mountains. From July
-onwards they begin their migrations from the north towards the
-south. Small companies, which, till then, have been leading a comfortable
-summer life, combine with others and set out on the journey
-with them; other troops join the band, which grows as it presses on,
-until there is, at length, formed one of those extraordinary herds
-which, united till the next spring, moves and acts as if animated by
-one soul. When the winter is safely past, the army gradually breaks
-up, probably in exactly reverse order, into herds, and these divide
-more and more until at length only small companies are left. This
-breaking-up takes place during the course of the return journey.
-Both in going and returning, one herd follows another at some distance,
-but more or less along the same paths. Specially favourable
-places, such as low grounds covered with rich grass, cause a temporary
-damming up of the living stream. In such places incalculable
-herds assemble together, spend days in the same spot, and break
-up only again when all the grass has been eaten, and hunger urges
-them to continue their journey. As they march the wolves and
-bears follow their track, while eagles and vultures, birds of ill omen,
-circle over their heads.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f40">
-<img src="images/fig40.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 36.&mdash;A Herd of American Bison or Buffalo.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Scarcity of water, as well as of food, is often a cause of regular
-migrations. When winter approaches in the south-east of Siberia,
-more particularly in the high Gobi steppe, all the non-hibernating
-mammals are compelled, by the peculiar circumstances of these highlands,
-to seek refuge in lower-lying regions. The winter in these
-high grounds of Central Asia is not more severe than in districts
-lying further to the north or north-east, but it is usually almost
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</span>snowless, and such pools of water as have been formed by the
-extremely slight fall of rain or snow, are covered with a thick sheet
-of ice. As soon as this sheet becomes so strong that the animals
-inhabiting the Gobi are unable to break it, they are obliged to
-change their quarters, and they travel not only to southern but to
-northern lands, whose only advantage is that they are covered with
-snow, for this affords ready refreshment to the parched tongues of
-the wanderers, and offers less resistance to their weak feet than
-the hard, unbreakable, and less easily melted ice. This is the
-explanation of the fact that the antelope, of which great numbers
-are found in the Gobi, forsakes a land which, save for the lack of
-snow and therefore of available water, is exactly the same as that
-which it chooses for its winter quarters. Not hunger, but thirst,
-drives it from its home. At the beginning of winter, the antelopes,
-at all times gregarious, assemble in herds of many thousands, spreading
-over all the low grounds around their native plateau; they
-often travel at the rate of fifty or sixty miles in a single night,
-and extend their wanderings many hundreds of miles beyond the
-boundaries of their proper habitat. The observer who follows them
-can detect their tracks everywhere, and in such numbers that it
-seems as though vast herds of sheep, far exceeding in number any
-ordinary flock, had just passed by.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f41">
-<img src="images/fig41.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 37.&mdash;Wild Horses crossing a River during a Storm.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Before the Chinese antelope begins its migration, restlessness
-seizes the kulan or dziggetai, probably the ancestor of our horse,
-and certainly the most beautiful and the proudest of all wild horses.
-The foals of the summer are by autumn strong enough to be able to
-endure a long journey with quick marches, and to bid defiance to
-all the accidents and dangers of a wandering life. The young
-stallions attain their full strength at the end of their fourth year,
-and towards the end of September they leave the parent-herd and
-press forward. Finally, the impulse to mate begins to animate the
-older stallions and mares, and with it comes unrest and the desire
-to wander. Thus the fleet, enterprising animals begin their annual
-migration long before winter has set in, before even its approach
-has become at all apparent; and on this account their migrations
-at first lack steadiness and regularity, and have something of the
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</span>character of journeys in search of adventure. With the intention
-of shaking off the burdensome yoke of the leader and absolute
-lord of the herd, and of becoming independent and in their turn
-equally despotic, the young stallions forsake the herd, and thenceforward
-traverse the sandy steppes singly. All the younger mares
-who are mature, and even many of the older ones, seem to be
-animated by the same feeling as the young stallions, and they
-attempt to escape from the rule of their tyrant and join his young
-rival, to fall immediately under his dominion. But not without a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</span>
-struggle does the new candidate for leadership gain his troop of
-mares; the old leader does not readily relinquish his rights. For
-hours together the stallion stands on the top of a hill or on the
-shoulder of a ridge, keenly scanning the country around. His eye
-wanders over the desert, his dilated nostrils are turned towards the
-wind, his ears are directed forwards on the alert. Eager for battle,
-he rushes at full gallop towards every herd which approaches, every
-adversary who shows himself; and a furious struggle takes place for
-the possession of the mares, who always attach themselves to the
-victor. Such combats and strife set the herd in motion, detach it
-from the place where the summer has been spent, and lead on to
-migrations which become gradually regular, prolonged, persistent,
-and almost uninterrupted. In the course of these, if not before
-the end of the combats just described, the kulan troops assemble
-in ever-growing numbers, until at length herds of more than a
-thousand head set out together for fields which give promise of
-pasturage. They do not break up while in their winter quarters,
-and they are thus compelled to be continually on the move in order
-to find sufficient nourishment. The combined tread of the army, as
-they gallop on in their usual furious fashion, rings dully out, and
-more than once, in Russia, the sound has called the Cossacks of the
-military cordon to arms. No wolf ventures to attack such a herd,
-for the courageous wild horses know so well how to use their hoofs
-against him that he soon gives up any attempt; it is only the sick
-and exhausted horses which become his prey, as he follows the
-wandering herd. Even man can do them no great damage, for their
-caution and shyness render them difficult of approach. But winter,
-especially if much snow falls, brings them much suffering. The
-pasture, at all times scanty, is exhausted the more quickly the more
-numerous the herd which feeds on it. Then the animals devour indiscriminately
-all the vegetable substances they can find. For months
-together they have to maintain life on leafless shoots. Their bodies
-cease to be fat and plump, till at length they are like wandering
-skeletons. The mother, herself starving, is no longer able to nourish
-her foal, for the milk-yielding udder dries up in times of such need.
-Many a one whose tender youth is unable to endure the hard fare<span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</span>
-dies of starvation. Even the old horses suffer from the poverty and
-treachery of the winter. Snow-storms blowing over their feeding-ground
-for days at a time depress their usually cheerful courage,
-and increase the boldness of the wolves, which, even if they do not
-fall upon the already exhausted horses, persecute and annoy to the
-utmost those who are not yet worn out. But as soon as circumstances
-begin to improve, the wiry, weather-hardened, enduring
-creatures recover their high spirits, and, when the snow begins to
-melt, they set out on the return journey, reaching their summer
-home in about a month’s time. There they break up into single
-herds, recuperate among the luxuriantly sprouting, fragrant pasture,
-and, in a surprisingly short time, become fat and plump again. Soon
-the want and misery of the winter are forgotten.</p>
-
-<p>Great as are the distances often traversed by all the mammals
-already mentioned, they can scarcely be compared with those
-covered by seals and whales. The water favours all the movements
-of animals adapted to aquatic life, and offers everywhere the same
-general conditions of life and the same amenities. Thus it renders
-the migrations of its inhabitants easier, less toilsome and hazardous
-than those of any other wanderers. Nevertheless it is somewhat
-surprising to learn that many sea-mammals, and particularly the
-whales, are among the most nomadic of all creatures; in fact that
-many, if not most of them, pass their whole life in travelling.
-Strictly speaking, no whale has a permanent place of sojourn for
-the whole year, but passes singly, in pairs, with its young, or in
-more or less numerous companies&mdash;the so-called schools&mdash;from one
-part of the ocean to another, visiting certain favourite haunts in
-regular order, and choosing different haunts in summer and in
-winter. The seas inhabited by the same species of whale in winter
-and in summer often lie farther apart than people seem to suppose,
-for some whales travel, twice a year, more than a quarter of the
-earth’s circumference; they are to be found in summer among the
-ice-floes of the Arctic Ocean, and in winter on the other side of
-the Equator. The female whales, who are in the highest degree
-sociable, and attached to their young with the tenderest, most devoted
-love, assemble together in surprising numbers, and under the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</span>
-guidance of a few males, traverse the ocean by definite routes and
-at definite times, some keeping to the open sea, others making their
-way along the coasts. Storms may force them to change their
-route, or delay in the appearance of the animals on which they feed,
-whose occurrence and disappearance is obviously the chief cause
-of their migration, may to some extent influence their course and
-the time of their visiting certain spots; but, as a general rule, their
-migrations are so systematic that on northern and southern coasts
-people look for the arrival of the whale on a particular day, and
-place watches so that they may be able to begin the long-desired
-chase without loss of time. Whales, which are recognized by the
-dwellers on the coast by some mark, such as mutilated fins, and
-which have been several times pursued in vain, have been known to
-appear several years in succession at the same time and at the same
-place; and the chase after these most valuable and therefore increasingly
-persecuted animals takes place with the same regularity as
-do hare-hunts on land, though at any other time of the year it
-would be vain to look for them. “After Twelfth Day,” says old
-Pontoppidan, “the Norwegians watch from all the hills for the
-whale, whose arrival is announced by the herring.” First appears
-the killer, then, three or four days, or at the most a fortnight later,
-the rorqual, though, apparently, one comes from Davis Straits and
-the other from Greenland. On the south coasts of the Faroë Islands,
-and especially in the Qualbenfjord, from three to six bottle-nose
-whales still appear every year about Michaelmas, as they did a
-hundred and ninety years ago. In a Scottish bay there appeared
-twenty years in succession a rorqual, which was generally known
-by the name of “Hollie Pyke”, and was pursued every year and
-finally captured. On the coast of Iceland single whales choose the
-same bays for a temporary sojourn every year in the same months,
-and even weeks, so that the inhabitants have got to know them
-individually, and have given them special names. Certain well-known
-mother-whales visit the same bays every year to bring forth
-their young, and they themselves are spared, but they have to
-purchase their own lives, dearly enough, at the cost of that of their
-young ones, which are regularly taken captive. It is very unusual<span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</span>
-for the migrating whales to keep neither to time nor to route; in
-general, their journeys are as regular as if they were arranged
-according to the position of the stars, and as if they took place
-along laid-out paths bounded on both sides. No other mammal
-migrates more regularly; indeed, their wanderings may be compared
-with the migrations of birds.</p>
-
-<p>The seals, like the whales, migrate every year, on the whole with
-great regularity, though not to such a distance. Those species which
-inhabit inland seas cannot, of course, leave these, but they traverse
-them every year in regular order, or at certain times ascend the
-rivers flowing into them; all the ocean species, on the other hand,
-set out every autumn and spring, by definite routes, to certain
-regions or localities. All the seals in the far north, as well as those
-in the seas about the South Pole, are forced to migrate by the extension
-of the ice in winter, and may travel with it towards temperate
-zones, returning towards the poles again as the ice melts. But they,
-like all other members of their order, are impelled to travel for another
-not less weighty reason; they require the mainland, or at least
-large, spreading, fixed masses of ice, on which to bring forth and
-nurture their young, until these are able to follow them into the
-water, there to shift for themselves. Thus every year thousands
-and hundreds of thousands of seals appear on certain islands and
-ice-banks, covering some of these birth-places of their race in such
-crowds that every available spot must be utilized in order to secure
-space for all to bring forth their young. They pass weeks, even
-months, on land or on the ice without hunting, descending into the
-sea, or taking food; they suckle their young, then mate, and by
-degrees break up their great assemblage, distributing themselves
-over the wide ocean to resume their former manner of life, or setting
-out with their young, who still require training, on more or less
-extensive foraging expeditions.<a id="FNanchor_60" href="#Footnote_60" class="fnanchor">[59]</a></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f42">
-<img src="images/fig42.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 38.&mdash;Flying Foxes.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>As is well known, there are many mammals which have the habit
-of hibernating, which pass the severe part of the year well protected
-in deep and carefully closed burrows, and are thus spared the necessity
-of leaving their haunts. Even among these, however, at least
-among those living in the temperate zones, there are some which
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</span>migrate during their waking time, namely, the bats. Defective as
-the wing of a bat must appear when compared with that of a bird,
-it is nevertheless of such assistance in flight, that it makes journeys
-possible which seem out of all proportion to the size of the animal.
-Another fact makes travelling easier to the restless bat; it is not
-tied down by its offspring to any particular spot, for the young one
-attaches itself directly after birth to the breast of the mother, and
-is borne by her through the air till it is capable of independent life.
-The bat is thus one of the best-adapted of migratory mammals,
-and, under some circumstances, it makes full use of its advantages.
-As a general rule, the wanderings of the different species of bat are
-to be regarded simply as excursions made with a view to taking
-advantage of any district which is, for the time being, particularly
-rich in food; but they do sometimes become really long journeys,
-which lead some species to far distant lands, and they are then not<span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</span>
-without the regularity characteristic of all true migrations. The
-largest bats, the flying foxes, fly long distances every evening in
-search of the fruits on which they chiefly subsist; they do not hesitate
-to cross an arm of the sea fifty or sixty miles in breadth, and
-they must even have traversed the distance between Southern Asia
-and the East of Africa, as certain species occur in both these regions.
-The bats proper accomplish at least as much. Following the reappearance
-of the insects, which occurs at different times in regions of
-different altitude, they ascend from the plains to the mountain heights,
-and descend in autumn to the low grounds again; they pursue the
-numerous flies which congregate about the wandering cattle-herds
-of Central Africa, and they migrate also from the south towards the
-north and return southwards again, or in reverse order. The boreal
-bat appears at the beginning of the bright nights in the north of
-Scandinavia and Russia, and leaves these districts, which may be
-considered its head-quarters, towards the end of summer, to spend
-the winter among the mountains of Central Germany and the Alps.
-The pond-bat is regularly seen on the plains of North Germany
-during summer, but only exceptionally at that period among the
-mountains of Central Germany, in whose caverns it spends the
-winter. That other species of bat occurring in Germany change
-their place of abode in a similar manner can scarcely be
-doubted.</p>
-
-<p>In the cases cited, which have been selected from a mass of
-available material, I have given examples of those migrations of
-mammals which we may call voluntary, because of their regularity;
-but in so doing I have by no means completed my task. Hunger
-and thirst, the poverty and temporary inhospitableness of a particular
-region, sometimes press so severely on certain mammals that
-they endeavour, as if despairing, to save themselves by flight.
-Abundant nourishment and good weather favour the increase of
-all animals, and affect that of a few plant-eating mammals to such
-an extraordinary degree, that, even under propitious conditions, their
-habitat must be extended. But if one or more rich years&mdash;in some
-cases a few favourable months&mdash;be followed by a sudden reverse,
-the famine soon passes all bounds, and robs the creatures not only<span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</span>
-of the possibility of subsistence, but also of all hope, or at least of
-all presence of mind.</p>
-
-<p>It is under circumstances such as these that the field-voles of
-our own country, and the Siberian voles, assemble in enormous
-multitudes, leave their native haunts and migrate to other districts,
-turning back for no obstacles, avoiding the water as little as
-the forbidding mountains or the gloomy forest, fighting to the last
-against hunger and misery, but perishing hopelessly from diseases
-and epidemics which rage among them like plagues, reducing armies
-of millions to a few hundreds. Thus, too, the squirrels of Siberia,
-which, in ordinary years, undertake, at the most, only short excursions,
-assemble in vast armies, hurry in troops or companies from
-tree to tree, in compact masses from forest to forest, swim across
-rivers and streams, throng into towns and villages, lose their lives
-by thousands; but suffer no obstacle or hindrance&mdash;not even the
-most obvious dangers&mdash;to delay them or divert them from their
-path. The soles of their feet become worn and cracked, their nails
-ground down, the hairs of their usually smooth fur rough and
-matted. Through the forest lynxes and sables, in the open fields
-gluttons, foxes and wolves, eagles, falcons, owls and ravens follow
-them closely; pestilence claims more victims from their ranks than
-the teeth and claws of beast of prey or the guns and cudgels of
-men, yet they press on and on, apparently without hope of return.
-A Siberian sportsman of my acquaintance gave me a verbal account
-of the appearance of such an army of squirrels, in August 1869, in
-the town of Tapilsk, among the Ural Mountains. It was only one
-wing of a migrating army, of which the main body travelled
-through the forest about five miles farther north. Sometimes in
-single file, sometimes in companies of varying strength, but in
-unbroken succession, the animals pressed on, crowding as densely
-through the town as through the neighbouring forest; used the
-streets, as well as the hedges, and the roofs of buildings as paths;
-filled every court-yard, thronged through windows and doors into the
-houses, and created quite an uproar among the inhabitants&mdash;much
-more among the dogs, which killed thousands of them, evincing an
-unbridled bloodthirstiness till then unsuspected. The squirrels,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</span>
-however, did not seem to concern themselves in the least about the
-innumerable victims falling in their midst; in fact, they took no
-notice of anything, and allowed nothing to divert them from their
-route. The procession lasted for three whole days, from early
-morning till late in the evening, and only after nightfall each day
-was there a break in the continuity of the stream. All travelled
-in exactly the same direction, from south to north, and those that
-came last took the same paths as their predecessors. The rushing
-Tchussoveia proved no obstacle, for all that reached the bank of
-that rapid mountain-river plunged without hesitation into its
-whirling and seething waters, and swam, deeply sunk and with
-their tails laid across their backs, to the opposite bank. My
-informant, who had been watching the procession with growing
-attention and sympathy, rowed out into the midst of the throng.
-The tired swimmers, to whom he stretched out an oar, climbed up
-by it into the boat, where, apparently exhausted, they sat quietly
-and confidingly, until it came alongside a larger vessel, when they
-climbed into that, and remained on it for some time as indifferent
-as before. As soon as the boat touched the bank they sprang
-ashore, and proceeded on their journey as unconcernedly as if it
-had suffered no interruption.</p>
-
-<p>It must be similar circumstances which compel the lemmings to
-the migrations which have been known for centuries. For many
-successive years the heights in the tundras of Scandinavia, North
-Russia, and the North of Siberia afford them comfortable quarters
-and abundant nourishment; for the broad ridges of the fjelds and
-the extensive plains between them, the highlands and the low
-grounds, offer room and maintenance for millions of them. But
-not every year do they enjoy the accustomed abundance for the
-whole summer. If a winter in which much snow falls, and which
-is therefore favourable to them, as they live safely below the snow,
-be followed by an early, warm, and agreeable spring, their extraordinary
-fertility and power of increase seem to have almost no
-bounds, and the tundra literally teems with lemmings. A fine
-warm summer increases their numbers past computing, but it also
-accelerates the life-course of all the plants on which they feed, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</span>
-before it is over these are partly withered, partly devoured by the
-greedy teeth of the insatiable rodents. Scarcity of food begins to
-be felt, and their comfortable life comes to an end in panic. Their
-fearless, bold demeanour gives place to a general uneasiness, and
-soon a mad anxiety for the future takes possession of them. Then
-they assemble together and begin to migrate. The same impulse
-animates many simultaneously, and from them it spreads to others;
-the swarms become armies; they arrange themselves in ranks, and
-a living stream flows like running water from the heights to the
-low grounds. All hurry onwards in a definite direction, but this
-often changes according to locality and circumstances. Gradually
-long trains are formed in which lemming follows lemming so closely
-that the head of one seems to rest on the back of the one in front
-of it; and the continuous tread of the light, little creatures hollows
-out paths deep enough to be visible from a long distance in the
-mossy carpet of the tundra. The longer the march lasts, the greater
-becomes the haste of the wandering lemmings. Eagerly they fall
-upon the plants on and about their path and devour whatever is
-edible; but their numbers impoverish even a fresh district within
-a few hours, and though a few in front may pick up a little food,
-nothing is left for those behind; the hunger increases every minute,
-and the speed of the march quickens in proportion; every obstacle
-seems surmountable, every danger trifling, and thousands rush on
-to death. If men come in their way they run between their legs;
-they face ravens and other powerful birds of prey defiantly; they
-gnaw through hay-stacks, climb over mountains and rocks, swim
-across rivers, and even across broad lakes, arms of the sea, and
-fjords. A hostile company, like that behind the migrating squirrels,
-follows in their wake: wolves and foxes, gluttons, martens and
-weasels, the ravenous dogs of the Lapps and Samoyedes, eagles,
-buzzards, and snowy owls, ravens and hooded crows fatten on the
-innumerable victims which they seize without trouble from the
-moving army; gulls and fishes feast on those which cross the water.
-Diseases and epidemics, too, are not awanting, and probably destroy
-more than all their enemies together. Thousands of carcasses lie
-rotting on the wayside, thousands are carried away by the waves;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</span>
-whether indeed any are left, and whether these return later to their
-native Alpine heights, or whether all, without exception, perish in
-the course of their journey, no one can say with certainty; but so
-much I know, that I have traversed great tracts of the tundra of
-Lapland where the paths and other traces of a great migrating
-army were to be seen almost everywhere, while not a single
-lemming could be discovered. Such tracts, I have been told, remain
-thus for several successive years, and only after long periods become
-gradually repeopled with the busy little rodents.<a id="FNanchor_61" href="#Footnote_61" class="fnanchor">[60]</a></p>
-
-<p>What hunger causes in the North is brought about by the tortures
-of thirst in the richer South. As the brackish pools which
-have afforded water to the zebras, quaggas, antelopes, buffaloes,
-ostriches, and other animals of the steppes, dry up more and more
-under the burning heat of a South African winter, all the animals
-whose necessities have hitherto been supplied by the steppes
-assemble about the pools which still contain a little water, and
-these become scenes of stirring, active life. But when these, too,
-evaporate, the animals which have congregated around them are
-compelled to migrate, and it may happen that despair takes possession
-of them, as it did of the little rodents already described, and
-that, collecting in herds like the wild horses and Chinese antelopes
-(dzieren) of the steppes of Central Asia, or the bisons of the North
-American prairies, they rush straight on for hundreds of miles, to
-escape the hardships of winter.</p>
-
-<p>In the South, too, the wild horses are the first to turn their backs
-on the inhospitable country. Till the drought sets in, these beautifully-marked,
-strong, swift, self-confident children of the Karroo, the
-zebra, quagga, and dauw, wander careless and free through their vast
-domain, each herd going its own way under the guidance of an old,
-experienced, and battle-tried stallion. Then the cares of the winter
-season begin to make themselves felt. One water-pool after another
-disappears, and the herds which gather about those which remain
-become more and more numerous. The general distress makes even
-the combative stallions forget to quarrel and fight. Instead of small
-companies, herds of more than a hundred head are formed, and these
-move and act collectively, and finally forsake the wintry region<span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</span>
-altogether before want has enfeebled their powers or broken their
-stubborn wills. Travellers describe with enthusiasm the spectacle
-presented by such a herd of wild horses on the march. Far into
-the distance stretches the sandy plain, its shimmering red ground-colour
-interrupted here and there by patches of sunburnt grass, its
-scanty shade supplied by a few feathery-leaved mimosas, and, as far
-away as the eye can reach, the horizon is bounded by the sharp lines
-of mountains quivering in a bluish haze. In the midst of this landscape
-appears a cloud of dust which, disturbed by no breath of air,
-ascends to the blue heavens like a pillar of smoke. Nearer and
-nearer the cloud approaches, until at length the eye can distinguish
-living creatures moving within it. Soon the brightly-coloured and
-strangely-marked animals present themselves clearly to the spectator’s
-gaze; in densely thronged ranks, with heads and tails raised,
-neck and neck with the quaintly-shaped gnus and ostriches which
-have joined their company, they rush by on their way to a new,
-and possibly far-distant feeding-ground, and ere the onlooker has
-recovered himself, the wild army has passed by and is lost from
-view in the immeasurable steppe.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f43">
-<img src="images/fig43.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 39.&mdash;Springbok Antelopes.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>The antelopes, which are also driven out by winter, do not
-always follow the same paths, but usually travel in the same direction.
-None is more numerous or more frequently seen than the
-springbok, one of the most graceful and beautiful gazelles with
-which we are acquainted. Its unusual beauty and agility strike
-everyone who sees it in its wild state, now walking with elastic step,
-now standing still to feed, now springing about in playful leaps,
-and thus disclosing its greatest ornament, a mane-like snow-white
-tuft of hair, which at a quieter pace is hidden in a longitudinal
-groove of the back. None of the other antelopes, when forced to
-migrate, assemble in such numerous herds as this one. Even the
-most vivid description cannot convey to one who has not seen a herd
-of springboks on their journey any adequate idea of the wonderful
-spectacle. After having congregated for weeks, perhaps waiting for
-the first shower of rain, the springboks at last resolve to migrate.
-Hundreds of the species join other hundreds, thousands other thousands,
-and the more threatening the scarcity, the more torturing
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</span>the thirst, the longer the distances which they cover; the flocks
-become herds, the herds armies, and these resemble the swarms of
-locusts which darken the sun. In the plains they cover square
-miles; in the passes between the mountains they throng together in
-a compact mass which no other creature can resist; over the low
-grounds they pour, like a stream which has overflowed its banks
-and carries all before
-it. Bewildering, intoxicating,
-and stupefying
-even the calmest
-of men, the throng
-surges past for hours, perhaps days together.<a id="FNanchor_62" href="#Footnote_62" class="fnanchor">[61]</a> Like the greedy
-locusts, the famishing animals fall upon grass and leaves, grain,
-and other fruits of the field; where they have passed, not a blade is
-left. The man who comes in contact with them is at once thrown
-to the ground, and so sorely wounded by the tread of their hoofs,
-light indeed, but a thousand times repeated, that he may be glad if
-he escapes with his life; a herd of sheep feeding in the way is
-surrounded and carried off, never to be seen again; a lion, who
-thought to gain an easy prey, finds himself forced to relinquish his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</span>
-victim, and to travel with the stream. Unceasingly those behind
-press forward, and those in front yield slowly to the pressure; those
-cooped up in the middle strive continually to reach the wings, and
-their efforts are strenuously resisted. Above the clouds of dust
-raised by the rushing army the vultures circle; flanks and rear are
-attended by a funeral procession of various beasts of prey; in the
-passes lurk sportsmen, who send shot after shot into the throng.
-So the tortured animals travel for many miles, till at length spring
-sets in and their armies are broken up.</p>
-
-<p>Shall I go on to consider other compulsory migrations, such as
-those of the arctic foxes and polar bears when an ice-floe on which
-they were hunting is loosened and floated off by the waves till, under
-favourable circumstances, it touches some island? I think not, for
-journeys such as these are not migrations, they are simply passive
-driftings.</p>
-
-
-<hr class="full x-ebookmaker-drop" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="c11">LOVE AND COURTSHIP AMONG BIRDS.</h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>An irresistible instinct, an all-compelling law of nature, moves
-every living creature to seek a mate of its own species but of opposite
-sex, to unite a second existence with its own, to awaken responsive
-emotions through complete self-surrender, and thus to form the
-closest bond which links being to being, life to life. No power is
-strong enough to set aside this law, no command authoritative
-enough to influence it. Yielding to no hindrance this instinct overcomes
-every obstacle, and presses victorious to its goal.</p>
-
-<p>The almighty power through which this law works we call Love,
-when we speak of its influence on man; we describe it as Instinct
-when we discuss its operation on the lower animals. But this is a
-mere play upon words, nothing more; unless by the former word
-we intend to imply that every natural instinct in man should by
-man himself be ennobled and moralized. If it be not so, it will be
-difficult to distinguish between the two. Man and beast are subject
-to the same law, but the beast yields it a more absolute obedience.
-The animal does not weigh or reflect, but gives itself up without<span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</span>
-resistance to the sway of love, which man often fondly imagines
-he can withstand or escape.</p>
-
-<p>Of course, he who ventures at the outset to dispute man’s belonging
-to the animal world at all, sees in an animal nothing more
-than a machine which is moved and guided, stimulated to action,
-incited to sue for the favour of the opposite sex, impelled to songs
-of rejoicing, provoked to combat with rivals, by forces outside of
-itself; and, naturally enough, he denies to such a machine all freedom
-and discretion, all conflict between opposing motives, all emotional
-and intellectual life. Without raising himself by thus claiming
-a monopoly of intelligent action, or at least of intellectual freedom,
-he degrades the lower animals to false creations of his own hollow
-vanity, suggesting that they lead a seeming rather than a real life,
-and that they are without any of the joys of existence.<a id="FNanchor_63" href="#Footnote_63" class="fnanchor">[62]</a></p>
-
-<p>An exactly contrary position would be undoubtedly more just,
-as it certainly is more accurate. Indeed, it is scarcely too much to
-say that he who refuses to credit the lower animals with intelligence
-raises anxiety on the score of his own, and that he who denies
-them all emotional life has himself no experience of what emotional
-life is. Whoever observes without prejudice is sooner or later forced
-to admit that the mental activity of all animal beings, diverse as its
-expression may be, is based upon the same laws, and that every
-animal, within its own allotted life-circle and under the same circumstances,
-thinks, feels, and acts like any other, and is not, in
-contrast to man, impelled to quite definite actions by so-called
-higher laws. The causes of the actions of animals may perhaps be
-termed laws, but, if so, we must not forget that man is subject to
-the same. His intellect may enable him to make some of these
-laws of nature subservient to his purposes, to modify others, sometimes
-even to evade them, but never to break or annul them.</p>
-
-<p>Let me attempt to prove the correctness of these opinions by
-giving examples to show how essentially the expressions of life in
-man and in the lower animals may resemble each other, how both
-are alike all-powerfully influenced by the most important of the
-laws of nature, that which has for its aim, or its consequence, the
-continuance of the species. Man and bird: how wide the gulf which<span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</span>
-separates them and their lives! how vast the differences between
-their habits and behaviour! Is there a power which can bridge
-over this gulf? Are conditions conceivable which can incite them
-to essentially similar expressions of life? We shall see.</p>
-
-<p>The birds are more unreservedly dependent on the rotation of
-the seasons than man is. “They sow not, neither do they reap, nor
-gather into barns”, and they must perforce adapt themselves to the
-seasons if they are to find sufficient food, if they are to live at all.
-Therefore they blossom in spring, bring forth their fruits in summer,
-conceal these and themselves in autumn, and rest in winter like the
-motherly earth. The chapters of their life-history are closely bound
-up with the seasonal progress of the year.</p>
-
-<p>In this respect they are indeed governed by an iron law which,
-within a certain limit, renders anything like freedom and caprice
-impossible. But whither should spontaneity tend save to want and
-misery, to the imperilling of their own lives and those of their
-young? So they bow submissively to nature’s law, and enjoy, in
-consequence, a freedom which we men might envy them, and should
-envy them, were we not more capable of withdrawing ourselves
-from the influence of the seasons than they. But do not we also
-blossom in spring, and rest in winter? And must not we, too, bow
-before iron necessity?</p>
-
-<p>If the birds are in bondage in certain respects, they preserve
-their freedom and power of choice in others, and they exercise both
-more joyously and unrestrainedly than man himself.</p>
-
-<p>No bird voluntarily renounces the joys of love; very few evade
-the bonds of marriage; but everyone seeks to attain to and enjoy
-love as early as possible. Before it has laid aside its youthful dress
-the young bird has learnt to recognize and respect the distinctions
-of sex; much earlier than that, the young male fights with his fellows
-as if in boyish wantonness; as soon as he is full-grown he woos
-ardently and persistently some female of his own species. No male
-bird condemns himself to bachelorhood, no female bird hardens her
-heart against a deserving suitor. For lack of a mate, the male
-wanders restlessly and aimlessly over land and sea; for a worthy
-mate the female forgets pain and oppressive grief, however deep<span class="pagenum" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</span>
-these may have been; for the wooer who seems to her most worthy
-she breaks even her conjugal bonds.</p>
-
-<p>Every female bird attains to the possession of a husband, but
-not every male readily succeeds in gaining a wife. Even among
-birds so great a good must be sought after and striven for. On an
-average, there are more males than females, and many males are
-obliged to suffer the severest misfortune which can befall them, and to
-live, at least temporarily, unmated. For the great majority of birds,
-celibacy is a state of torment from which they strive with all their
-strength to escape. So they traverse wide tracts in search of a mate,
-seeking diligently, and when they imagine they have found one,
-wooing with equal ardour, whether she be maid, wife, or widow.
-If these wanderings were usually fruitless, they would not take
-place so regularly as they do.</p>
-
-<p>In wooing their mates, the males exhaust all the charms with
-which nature has endowed them. According to his species and
-capacity each brings his best gifts into play, each seeks to show his
-best side, to reveal all his amiability, to surpass in brilliance others
-of his kind. This desire increases with the hope of fulfilment; his
-love intoxicates him, throws him into ecstasies. The older he is
-the more remarkably does he conduct himself, the more self-confident
-does he appear, the more impetuously does he strive for the
-reward of love. The proverb, “There are no fools like old fools”,
-does not apply in his case, for it is but rarely that age condemns
-him to weakness and incapacity; on the contrary, it strengthens
-all his capabilities and increases his energy by mature experience.
-Little wonder then that at least the younger females prefer the
-older males, and that these woo, if not more ardently, at least more
-confidently than their younger rivals.</p>
-
-<p>The means by which a male bird declares his love and conducts
-his courtship are very various, but, naturally, they always
-accord with his most prominent gifts. One woos with his song,
-another with his wings, this one with his bill, and that with his
-foot; one displays all the magnificence of his plumage, another some
-special decoration, and a third some otherwise unused accomplishment.
-Serious birds indulge in play and joke and dignified pranks;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</span>
-silent ones chatter, quiet ones become restless, gentle ones combative,
-timid ones bold, cautious ones careless: in short, all show themselves
-in an unwonted light. Their whole nature appears changed, for
-all their movements are more active, more excited than usual, and
-their conduct differs from their ordinary behaviour in every respect;
-they are possessed by an intoxication which increases the elasticity
-of their nature to such a degree that no flagging is ever perceptible.
-They deprive themselves of sleep, or reduce it to a minimum without
-weariness, and while awake they exert all their powers to the
-utmost without fatigue.</p>
-
-<p>All birds with a voice utter clear, articulate notes in their courtship,
-and their song is nothing more than a supplication or exultation
-of love. Our poet’s words:</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent0">“Hushed is the nightingale’s lay,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Which gladdened our hearts in spring;</div>
-<div class="verse indent0">’Tis only in love’s heyday</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">That we hear its minstrels sing”,</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>are literally true; for the song of the nightingale, and those of all
-other birds which delight us with their lays, begin with the first
-stirrings of love, and come to an end when the intoxication is past,
-and other emotions and cares have taken its place. Singing, the
-bird flies forth on his quest for a mate; in song he tells the female
-of his approach, and invites her to join him; in passionate song he
-gives expression to his delight when he has found her, and to his
-desires, and longings, and hopes; through his song he reveals his
-strength, and exalts his own bliss to the heavens; and through it,
-too, he challenges all other males of his species who would presume
-to disturb his happiness. Only so long as he is inspired by the
-intoxication of love is the bird’s song full of fire and strength, and
-if he sing at other times, his lay is certainly a reminiscence of the
-great joy which once was his. Whoever maintains, as has really
-been maintained, that a bird sings without any personal feeling
-whatever, that it sings at a given time simply because it must, and
-that at another time it could not if it would, has never understood,
-or sought to understand, the song of birds, but has simply given<span class="pagenum" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</span>
-petulant expression to his own prejudice. A dispassionate observer
-must soon perceive that a bird’s song, though it remains essentially
-the same, varies with every emotion, that it flows quietly on, ascends,
-bursts out triumphantly, and dies away again, according to the prevailing
-mood, and that it awakens an echo in the breast of other
-males. If the view referred to were correct, each bird would sing
-exactly like every other of the same species; it would pour forth its
-appointed lay as mechanically as a musical box emits the tunes
-plugged up in its rotating cylinder; none could change or improve
-his song, or strive to surpass his fellows. Our own view is exactly
-the opposite, for we are convinced that a bird sings with perfect
-consciousness, that in his song he lays bare his soul. He is
-a poet, who, within his own limits, invents, creates, and struggles
-for utterance; and the motive throughout is love for the opposite
-sex. Dominated by this love, the jay sings, whistles, and murmurs,
-the magpie chatters, the croaking raven transforms its rough
-sounds into gentle, soft notes, the usually silent grebe lets its
-voice be heard, the diver sings its wild yet tuneful ocean-song, the
-bittern dips its bill under water that the only cry at its command
-may become a dull, far-sounding booming. A bird does indeed sing
-only at a certain season, but it is not because it cannot do so at
-other times, but because it has then no inducement, no inclination
-to sing. It is silent when it no longer loves; to speak more prosaically,
-when the pairing-time is past. This is clearly proved in
-the case of the familiar cuckoo. Three-fourths of the year go by
-and its call is not once heard; spring comes round in the revolution
-of the seasons and it sounds forth almost incessantly from early
-morning till late in the evening, as long as the pairing-time lasts.
-But it is silent sooner in the south than in the north, sooner in the
-plains than in the mountains, exactly corresponding to the brooding-time
-of the foster-parents, which begin their nest-building earlier,
-and finish the rearing of their young sooner in the south and in the
-plains than in the north and in the highlands.</p>
-
-<p>During courtship many birds supplement their vocal efforts by
-pleasing movements, whether executed with the help of the wings
-or of the feet; others by peculiar attitudes in which they display<span class="pagenum" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</span>
-themselves, or strut before the females; others, again, by special
-noises which they produce.</p>
-
-<p>While a few falcons, and all owls, express their desires chiefly,
-if not exclusively, by means of loud cries, other birds of prey
-indulge, either alone or in company with their mates, in a magnificent
-play of wings, which is now a kind of round dance, and
-anon becomes a perfect frenzy. Eagles, buzzards, peregrine falcons,
-kestrels, and lesser kestrels circle round each other for hours at a
-time, ascend spirally to giddy heights, exercise, obviously to their
-mutual pleasure and satisfaction, all the arts of flight of which they
-are capable, utter shrill cries from time to time, spread out their
-plumage in the sunlight, and, finally, glide slowly down and assume
-a dignified sitting posture, there to resume their caressings. Kites,
-which behave in an essentially similar manner, let themselves suddenly
-down, with half-closed wings, from a very considerable height,
-until they are just over the ground, or a sheet of water, then begin,
-more quickly than usual, to describe a series of curves, remain
-hovering for some time over a particular spot, or execute other
-wonderful movements, then slowly soar again to their former height.
-Harriers fly for some time with apparent indifference behind the
-desired mate, then begin to circle round her, describe with her a
-series of intersecting curves, and, suddenly leaving her, soar, with
-head directed upwards, almost perpendicularly up to a considerable
-height, increasing, at the same time, the speed of their ordinarily
-leisurely flight to a surprising rapidity; then, tumbling precipitately
-over, fall with almost closed wings to near the ground, circle there
-once, twice, or oftener, ascend again and proceed as before, till at
-last the female makes up her mind to follow their example. But
-all these which we have mentioned are surpassed by the bateleur,
-or mountebank, a harrier about the size of an eagle, living in the
-interior of Africa, and one of the most remarkable of birds of prey in
-form and behaviour (p. 188). Its marvellous flight is at all times
-likely to attract the attention of observers, but during the pairing-time
-this becomes an incomparable mountebank performance in the
-air, a bewildering acrobatic display, which seems to unite in itself
-all the arts of flight practised by the other birds of prey.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</span></p>
-
-<p>Many other birds which are not specially skilful in flight act in
-much the same way as the wooing birds of prey. That they call in
-the aid of their wings when they strive to win the love of a mate,
-or wish to express their delight in a possession already won, is
-intelligible enough after what has been related. The swallow,
-sitting beside his desired or chosen mate, eagerly warbles his melodious
-lay; but the emotion within his breast is much too strong
-to allow him to sit still during the progress of his song, so he flies
-upwards, singing in his flight, and hovers and circles about the
-female who has followed him. The goatsucker sits for a time
-lengthwise on a bough, often at some distance from his mate, spins
-off his whirring strophes for some minutes, then rises, flies about
-his mate in graceful curves, flapping his wings, and calling to her
-such a tender “haït”, that one wonders how a sound so soft can
-possibly be produced by his rough throat. The bee-eater, whose
-voice is also unmelodious, sits for a long time on his perch, pressing
-closely to his mate, uttering scarcely a sound, sometimes none
-whatever, but apparently contenting himself with casting tender
-glances from his beautiful bright red eyes; but he, too, takes fire,
-moves his wings abruptly, rises high into the air, describes a circle,
-utters a jubilant cry, and returns to his mate, who has remained
-sitting where he left her. In the midst of its most ardent love-song&mdash;call
-it cooing, murmuring, moaning, or what you will&mdash;the
-dove breaks off suddenly as if inspired by its own music, then claps
-its wings loudly and sharply several times, soars aloft, spreads its
-wings and floats slowly down to a tree-top, there to begin its song
-anew. Tree-pipits and rock-pipits, white-throats, and garden
-warblers behave exactly like the doves; the wood-warblers precipitate
-themselves from their high perches without ceasing to sing, fly
-up again to another branch, where they finish their song, to begin
-it again a few minutes later, and bring it to a conclusion with a
-similar play of wings. Greenfinches, siskins, and common buntings,
-in the enthusiasm of love, tumble through the air as if they had no
-control over their wings; the larks soar to heaven singing their song
-of love; the serin behaves as if it had taken lessons from a bat.</p>
-
-<p>A similar intoxication possesses those birds which declare their<span class="pagenum" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</span>
-love by dancing. They, too, act contrary to all their usual habits
-during the dance, and fall finally into a transport which makes them
-almost forget the outside world. Few birds dance silently, most of
-them utter peculiar sounds, never heard at other times, at the same
-time displaying all their adornments, and often bringing the performance
-to a close with a sort of round dance.</p>
-
-<p>Particularly zealous dancers are the scratchers or fowls in the
-widest acceptation of the term. Our domestic cock contents himself
-with strutting proudly about, crowing and flapping his wings; his
-companions in the yard, the peacock and the turkey, do more,
-for they dance. Much more vigorous dancers than either of these
-are all the grouse-like birds and some pheasants. Whoever has
-watched the dance of the capercaillie in the grey morning hours,
-has listened to the liquid cooing of the black-grouse, has seen the
-willow-grouse dancing on the snowy plains of the tundra in the
-dusk of a northern spring, will agree with me that such homage as
-these cocks offer to the hens must be as irresistible as that paid by
-our own peacock when he transforms his chief ornament into a
-canopy for his desired mate. More remarkable than all the rest is
-the behaviour of the male tragopans or horned pheasants of Southern
-Asia, magnificently decorative birds, distinguished by two brightly-coloured
-horn-like tubes of skin on the sides of the head, and by
-brilliantly-coloured extensible wattles. After the cock has walked
-round the hen several times without appearing to pay any attention
-to her, he stands still at a particular spot, and begins to bow. More
-and more quickly the courtesies follow each other, the horns meantime
-swelling and tossing, the wattles dilating and collapsing again,
-till all are literally flying about the head of the love-crazed bird.
-Now he unfolds and spreads his wings, rounds and droops his tail,
-sinks down with bent feet, and, spitting and hissing, lets his wings
-sweep along the ground. Suddenly every movement ceases. Bent
-low, his plumage ruffled, his wings and tail pressed against the
-ground, his eyes closed, his breathing audible, he remains for a
-while in motionless ecstasy. His fully-unfolded decorations gleam
-with dazzling brightness. Abruptly he rises again, spits and hisses,
-trembles, smooths his feathers, scratches, throws up his tail, flaps<span class="pagenum" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</span>
-his wings, jerks himself up to his full height, rushes upon the
-female, and, suddenly checking his wild career, appears before her
-in olympic majesty, stands still for a moment, trembles, twitches,
-hisses, and all at once lets all his glory vanish, smooths his feathers,
-draws in his horns and wattles, and goes about his business as if
-nothing had happened.</p>
-
-<p>With head slightly bent, with wings and tail spread out, the
-former moving tremulously, the wagtails trip with dainty steps
-about their chosen mates, bowing, advancing, and retreating again;
-the fire-finch looks like a brilliant flame of incense as he turns
-about, singing gaily and spreading his beautiful feathers in the
-sunlight, on the top of an ear of the Kaffir millet, among which he
-and his loved one have made their home; tenderly, with mouth
-pressed to mouth and breast to breast, like the children of men, the
-dove and his mate together execute a slow dance; the cranes dance
-passionately, with nimble leaps; not less ardently, even in sight of
-apparently admiring spectators, does the beautiful cock of the rock
-of Tropical America disport himself; even the condor, whose powers
-of flight are of the first order, who sails through the air thousands
-of feet above the highest peaks of the Andes, whom one would
-scarcely expect to conduct his wooing otherwise than with his wings,
-ventures on a little dance, and with head sunk upon his breast, and
-with wings fully spread, circles slowly and with mincing steps
-around his mate, to an accompaniment of strange drumming, murmuring
-sounds.</p>
-
-<p>Other birds, again, instead of dancing, spring impetuously up
-and down, and hop hither and thither among the branches, at the
-same time displaying whatever beauty they possess: thus, the male
-birds-of-paradise assemble in crowds on certain trees during the
-early morning hours, and with the aforesaid movements and tremulous
-quivering of their wings, display their wonderful plumage in
-honour of the other sex. Others even build bower-like structures,
-which they decorate with all kinds of coloured, shimmering, and
-glittering objects, and within which they perform their dances.
-Finally, a few birds with no special accomplishments either of voice
-or of flight or of dance, make use of their bills to produce singular<span class="pagenum" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</span>
-sounds. Thus all the storks woo by quickly clapping the two halves
-of the bill together, so producing a clatter which makes up for
-their lack of voice; thus, too, the woodpeckers hammer so fast on
-a dry tree-top or branch that the wood flies about in splinters,
-and a drumming sound is caused which resounds throughout the
-forest.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f44">
-<img src="images/fig44.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 40.&mdash;The Strutting of the Tragopan in Pairing-time.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Although it cannot be said that the female coquettishly repels
-any advances and declarations of love, it is only in cases of necessity
-that she accepts a suitor without exercising selection. At first
-she listens to the tenderest love-songs apparently with the greatest
-indifference, and looks on unconcernedly at all the play of wings,
-the dances executed in her honour, and all the beauty displayed
-to do her homage. For the most part she behaves as if all the
-display of fascinations on the part of the males had no relation
-to her at all. Leisurely, and seemingly quite uninterested in their
-doings, she goes about her daily business of seeking food. In many,
-though by no means in all cases, she is ultimately enticed by the
-song in her glorification, the dances to her praise, but by no action
-does she give a sign of complaisant response. Many female birds,
-especially the hens of all polygamous species, do not even come to
-the “playing” grounds of the cocks, though they are anything but
-coy, and often by their inviting cries inflame the strutting cocks to
-the height of passion. If a male becomes more importunate than is
-agreeable to the female she takes refuge in flight. In very rare
-cases this may perhaps be meant in earnest, but it is usually continued
-with such energy and persistence that it is not always easy
-to determine whether it takes place without any secondary intention
-or whether it is merely a pretence. If it aims at nothing, it certainly
-achieves something: a heightening of the desire, a straining to the
-utmost of all the powers and resources of the wooing male. More
-excited than ever, regardless of all considerations, and bent only on
-attaining his object, he pursues the flying female as if he meant to
-force her to grant his suit; he sings with more fire, struts, dances,
-and plays with more agility than ever, and exercises his arts of
-flight whenever the female stops to rest, and more eagerly than ever
-he follows her if she takes to fresh flight.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</span></p>
-
-<p>Probably the females would be more compliant than they generally
-are if one male were the only suitor. But the fact that the
-males are in most species in the majority gives the female bird the
-boon of freedom of choice. Several males, sometimes even a considerable
-number of them, pay court to her at the same time, and
-thus justify her deliberation and selectiveness. Intentionally or
-unintentionally, she obeys the law of selection; among several she
-tries to pick out the best, the strongest, the healthiest, the most
-excellent in every respect.<a id="FNanchor_64" href="#Footnote_64" class="fnanchor">[63]</a> She can afford to be fastidious. The
-reaction of her conduct on the males finds expression in boundless
-jealousy, which results, not unnaturally, in prolonged, often mortal,
-combat. Every bird, harmless as he may appear to us, is a hero in
-fighting for his loved one, and everyone understands so well how to
-use the weapons he is provided with, whether bill, claws, spurred
-feet, or even wings armed with horny spines, that the battle in
-many cases comes to an end only with the death of one of the
-combatants.</p>
-
-<p>The combat takes place in the air, on the ground, among the
-branches, or in the water, according to the species of bird. Eagles
-and falcons fight their adversaries in the air with beak and talons.
-Magnificent curves, rival flights to attain to a height suitable for
-attack, swift thrust, brilliant parry, mutual persecution and courageous
-persistence are the chief features of such duels. If one of the
-kingly champions succeeds in seizing his foe, the latter strikes his
-talons into his opponent’s breast, and both, unable properly to use
-their wings, fall whirling through the air. When the ground is
-reached the fight is, of course, interrupted; but, as soon as one
-rises, the other follows him, and hostilities begin anew. If one
-becomes exhausted, perhaps in consequence of wounds received, he
-beats a retreat, and, hotly pursued by the victor, flies hastily and
-without attempting resistance, beyond the limits of the domain which
-the female bird has chosen for herself; but, in spite of defeat, he
-does not finally relinquish the strife until she has declared decidedly
-in favour of the conqueror. Such duels sometimes, though not
-very often, have a fatal issue, for the eagle, whose jealousy is
-provoked by love and ambition, shows no mercy towards a conquered<span class="pagenum" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</span>
-foe, but remorselessly kills the adversary who has been
-incapacitated for further combat or for flight. Even those apparently
-most harmless creatures, the swifts, occasionally kill their
-rivals, for in their struggles, which are precisely like those of the
-eagles and falcons, they strike their sharp claws into the breasts of
-their foes, and tear the flesh so that the death of the wounded one
-often results.</p>
-
-<p>Among all birds with voices the combat is preceded by a definite
-challenge. Even the song of a singing bird is a weapon with which
-he may gain a bloodless victory; the pairing-cry, which so well
-expresses wooing, always excites jealousy. Whoever can imitate
-the call of the cuckoo may entice the usually cautious bird to the
-very tree under which he is standing. Whoever can adequately
-mimic the complex whistle of the golden oriole, the cooing of the
-wild pigeon and turtle-dove, the drumming of the woodpeckers&mdash;in
-a word, the wooing song or call-note of any bird&mdash;may achieve
-a similar result. When a second suitor appears on the scene he
-announces his arrival by calling or singing. But he soon proceeds
-to action; and thenceforward there rages between him and his rival
-a strife as violent as those already described. In mad fury, calling,
-screaming, and screeching, one chases the other hither and thither,
-high in mid-air or in lower strata of the atmosphere, between tree-tops
-or among the bushes, and just as in the pursuit of the female,
-so in this chase one male provokes the other to passionate rage by
-challenging calls, and even by song, by displaying his decorations,
-and by other mocking behaviour. If the pursuer succeeds in catching
-his flying foe, he pecks him so hard with his bill that the
-feathers fly about; if he lets him go, the pursued one turns in a
-trice and renews the attack; if neither gives way they maul one
-another thoroughly, whether they are in the air, among the branches,
-or on the ground. Among them, too, the struggle is finally abandoned
-only when the female declares for one or other of the combatants.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f45">
-<img src="images/fig45.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 41.&mdash;Cock Chaffinches Fighting.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Ground-birds always fight on the ground, swimming-birds only
-in the water. How obstinately the gallinaceous birds may do battle
-is known to everyone who has watched two cocks fighting. Their
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</span>duels, too, are a matter of life and death, though a fatal result does
-not often take place except when the natural weapons have been
-sharpened and the means of protection weakened by man’s cruel interference.
-Rival ostriches fight with their strong legs, and, striking
-forwards, tear deep wounds with their sharp toe-nails in the breast,
-body, and legs of their opponent. Jealous bustards, after spending
-a long time challenging each other with throat inflated, wings and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</span>
-tail outspread, and much grumbling and hissing, make use of their
-bills with very considerable effect. Sandpipers and other shore-birds,
-particularly the fighting ruffs, which fight about everything,
-about a mate or about a fly, about sun and light, or about their
-standing-ground, run against each other with bills like poised
-lances, and receive the thrusts among their breast-feathers, which
-in the case of the ruffs are developed into what serves as a shield.
-Coots rush at each other on an unsteady surface of water-plants,
-and strike each other with their legs. Swans, geese, and ducks chase
-each other till one of the combatants succeeds in seizing the other
-by the head and holding him under water, till he is in danger of
-suffocating, or at least until he is so much exhausted that he is
-unable to continue the struggle. Swans, like spur-winged birds,
-seem also to use the hard, sharp, thorn-like horny quills at the
-angle of the wing to give effective strokes.</p>
-
-<p>As long as the female has not decided for either of the combatants,
-she takes no part in such struggles, does not appear even to
-be interested, though she must observe them closely, as she usually
-declares for the winner, or at least accepts his suit. How her
-decision or declaration is actually brought about I cannot say, I
-cannot even guess. While the battles described are in progress
-she makes her choice, and from thenceforward she gives herself
-unreservedly to the favoured male, follows him wherever he goes,
-accepts his demonstrations of affection with obvious pleasure, and
-returns his caresses with the most self-forgetting tenderness. She
-calls longingly after him, greets him joyously, and submits unresistingly
-to his desires and fondlings. Parrot pairs sit with their
-bodies closely pressed together, though hundreds may have settled
-on the same tree; the most complete unison is observable in all their
-doings; they are as if guided by one will. Does the husband take
-food, the wife takes it too; does he seek a new perch, she follows
-him; does he utter a cry, she joins her voice to his. Caressingly
-they nestle in each other’s plumage, and the passive female willingly
-offers head and neck to the eager male, thus to receive proofs of his
-tenderness. Every other female bird receives the caresses of her mate
-with similar, if somewhat less obvious devotion. She knows neither<span class="pagenum" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</span>
-moods nor vexatious humours, neither sulking nor anger, neither
-scolding nor upbraiding, neither displeasure nor discontent&mdash;nothing
-but love, tenderness, and devotion, while the male thinks of nothing
-but his happiness in his newly-acquired treasure, and has no desire
-but to retain it. While he sometimes arranges or decides for her,
-he yields to the wishes of his mate; when she rises, he, too, leaves
-his perch; when she wanders abroad, he follows her; when she
-returns, he also comes back to the home of his youth. Little
-wonder that the wedlock of birds is happy and blameless. If the
-birds united for life grow old themselves, their love does not grow
-old with them, but remains ever young; and every spring-time
-fresh oil is poured upon the flame; their mutual tenderness does not
-diminish during the longest wedded life. Both mates faithfully
-take their share of the domestic cares at the time of nest-building,
-hatching the eggs, and bringing up the young. The male devotedly
-assists the female in all the labours required by their brood; he
-defends her courageously, and will unhesitatingly rush into obvious
-danger, even to death, to rescue her. In a word, from the beginning
-of their union they share each other’s joys and sorrows, and, except
-in unusual circumstances, this intimate bond lasts throughout life.
-There is no lack of direct evidence in proof of this. Keen-eyed
-naturalists, who have observed certain birds for many successive
-years, and have at length come to know them so well that they
-could not confuse them with others of the same species, have given
-us their guarantee for the birds’ devotion, and all of us who have
-given special attention to the birds which have come under our
-notice must be led to the same conclusion. A pair of storks on the
-roof of a house give the owner so many opportunities for observing
-them and distinguishing them from other storks that error is almost
-out of the question; and whoever watches his storks will find that
-the same pair occupy the nest every year as long as both live. And
-every naturalist or sportsman, who carefully notes wandering bird-pairs,
-or shoots them if the differences of sex are not readily distinguishable,
-will find that they are really male and female. In the
-course of my travels in Africa I often saw pairs of migrating birds
-which there, too, lived in the close fellowship so characteristic of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</span>
-bird-wedlock, and were as inseparable as in the thicket at home,
-doing all and enduring all in common. Pairs of booted eagles were
-easily recognizable as mates even when they travelled or took
-shelter in company with others of their species; the whistling
-swans which I saw on the Menzaleh Lake in Egypt appeared in
-pairs and flew away again in pairs; all the other united pairs
-which I observed on my way illustrated the same habit. That they
-share misfortunes as well as pleasures together, I learned from
-a pair of storks I observed on a pool in South Nubia, to whom my
-attention was attracted because they were there at a time long after
-all others of their species had sought a refuge in the interior of
-Africa. To discover the cause of this prolonged stay I had them
-shot, and I found that the female had a broken wing which prevented
-her travelling farther, and that the male, himself thoroughly
-sound, had remained, for love of her, in a region where all the conditions
-of comfortable wintering were awanting. The close and
-faithful bond between pairing birds is severed only by death.</p>
-
-<p>This is the rule, but it is subject to exceptions. Even among
-monogamous birds unfaithfulness occurs sometimes, though rarely.
-Firmly as the females are wont to keep faith with their mates, and
-little as they are inclined to cast furtive glances at other males, or
-even to accept them as friends when they obtrude themselves, the
-specially brilliant gifts of some stranger may exercise a seductive
-influence. A master-singer who far surpasses the husband in song,
-an eagle who excels in all or at least in many respects the one
-selected by a female, may seriously disturb the happiness of a nightingale
-or eagle marriage, may perhaps even entice the female away
-from her rightful spouse. This is evidenced by the bachelors who
-fly about before and during the brooding-time, intruding audaciously
-into the domain of a wedded pair and boldly sueing for the favour
-of the female, and by the jealous fights which begin at once between
-the lawful husband and the intruder, and which are usually fought
-out without the aid of the female. The conduct of a suddenly
-widowed female, who not only immediately consoles herself by
-pairing again, but sometimes even accepts the assassin of her first
-mate, points, at least to a certain extent, in the same direction. On<span class="pagenum" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</span>
-the roof of the manor of Ebensee, near Erfürt, there brooded for years
-a pair of storks who, though they lived in complete harmony, were
-never without contests, suffering perpetually from the intrusion
-of strangers, who attempted to get possession of nest and female.
-One spring there came upon the scene a male who far surpassed
-all previous suitors in assertiveness and persistence, and forced the
-paterfamilias to be always fighting, or at least to be constantly on
-the watch. One day, wearied with his struggles, he sat upon the
-nest apparently asleep, with his head under his wing, when suddenly
-the intruder swooped down upon him, transfixed him with
-his bill, and hurled him lifeless from the roof. And the widow?
-She did not drive the infamous assassin from her, but unhesitatingly
-allowed him to fill his victim’s place, and went on with her
-brooding as if nothing had happened.</p>
-
-<p>This and the facts already mentioned are not to the credit of
-the females, but I should like to emphasize that they are so much
-outweighed by the evidence on the other side, that they must be
-considered as exceptions which prove the rule. And if the females
-should be judged apparently or actually guilty, it must not be forgotten
-that the males, with far more reason to be faithful than the
-less numerous females, sometimes forget their conjugal ties. Whoever
-thoroughly knows pigeons, which are erroneously regarded as
-the type of all conceivable virtues, is aware that they are far from
-deserving the reputation which has been handed down in the
-legends of the ancients. Their tenderness is captivating, but it is not
-constant; their faithfulness to wife and children is extolled, but it
-does not stand a test. Quite apart from their unfatherliness, the
-male pigeons are only too often guilty of transgressions against
-the inviolable laws of marriage, and not seldom employ the time
-in which their mates are brooding in dallying with other females.
-Drakes are even more blamable, and the male red-legged partridges
-are no better. As soon as the ducks have settled down to brood,
-the drakes assemble and pass the time together as best they can,
-leaving their mates to toil, and worry, and undertake all the cares
-for the coming generation, and only returning to the ducks,
-perhaps not to their own mates, when the young have grown big<span class="pagenum" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</span>
-and self-reliant and no longer need their help. But the red-legged
-partridges, and probably our partridges also, during the pairing-time,
-put in an appearance wherever another cock announces himself
-in order to fight a round with him, and they are often allured
-and killed by the Spaniards, with the help of tame cocks of their
-own species. Later, however, when brooding has begun and they
-have no longer any inclination to fight, they respond to the call of
-the hens, if possible, more readily than before.</p>
-
-<p>But, as has been said, such cases form exceptions to the rule, and
-cannot be compared in any way with what occurs among polygamous
-birds. Many have tried in vain to explain the polygamy of
-cowbirds, cuckoos, pheasants, woodcocks, turkeys, quails, peacocks,
-and ruffs, but as yet no satisfactory explanation has been offered.
-To say that the cuckoo and its nearest relations do not brood nor
-live in wedlock and rear their own offspring because they must
-always be ready to direct their flight towards a caterpillar horde,
-wherever that may appear, is to talk at large, not to explain&mdash;for
-the cowbirds, too, intrust their brood to the care of foster-parents;
-and with regard to the supposition that polygamy, occurring among
-a few exceptionally persecuted species of fowl, is a provision of
-Nature for securing to these a numerous progeny, it is difficult to
-see why that end might not have been attained in the same way as
-among other fowls, which, though monogamous, are not less prolific.<a id="FNanchor_65" href="#Footnote_65" class="fnanchor">[64]</a></p>
-
-<p>While employing the expression polygamy, I am quite aware
-that it is usual to speak of plurality of wives among birds. Such a
-state is unknown to me, and its existence, to my knowledge, is not
-corroborated by any observations of indisputable accuracy. For
-the passion is mutual, and the longing of the females is as boundless
-as that of the males. The female cuckoo mates with one male
-to-day and another to-morrow, may indeed bestow her affections on
-several in the course of an hour, and the hen yields herself to one
-cock as readily as to another. It is simply out of the question to
-talk of mating among them at all. The males only concern themselves
-temporarily about the females, and the females about the
-males; each sex goes its own way, even separating entirely from
-the other, and taking no interest in its lot beyond the limits of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</span>
-pairing-time. Boundless desire, and consequently excessive jealousy,
-imperious demands submissively acceded to, mad wooing readily
-accepted, and thereafter complete indifference towards each other,
-are the main characteristics of the intercourse between the sexes of
-these birds. These explain, too, the fact that among them much
-oftener than among other birds crossing takes place, and mongrels
-or hybrids are produced, which lead a miserable existence, and
-either pine away without progeny, or, by mating with the true
-offspring of the race, lead back to the type again. Cross-pairing
-does indeed occur among other, that is monogamous, birds, but only
-when the absence of a mate of their own species impels them to
-seek one of another; whereas among polygamous birds chance and
-tempting opportunity seem as determinative as such a dilemma.</p>
-
-<p>It may be necessity, the absolute necessity of providing for the
-brood just hatched or still slumbering within the egg, which compels
-the female of monogamous birds to change her widowhood for a
-new alliance more quickly than the male can console himself for the
-loss of his wife. Whether her grief is really less than the widower’s
-may be doubted, emphatically against her though appearances are.
-Other female birds act exactly like the stork on the Ebensee. A
-pair of magpies brooding in our garden were to be killed because
-we feared for the safety of the numerous singing-birds which we
-protected and encouraged in the same garden. At seven o’clock in
-the morning the male bird was shot, and barely two hours later the
-female had taken another mate; in an hour he too fell a victim; at
-eleven o’clock the female had contracted a third alliance. The same
-thing would have occurred again, but that the alarmed female, with
-her last-annexed mate, flew away from the garden. One spring my
-father shot a cock partridge; the hen flew up, but soon alighted
-and was immediately wooed by another cock, whom she accepted
-without more ado. Tchusi-Schmidthofen took away no fewer than
-twenty males from the nest of a black redstart within eight days,
-and only then left the twenty-times widowed and just as often
-consoled bird to the undisturbed enjoyment of her connubial bliss.</p>
-
-<p>Exactly the opposite of such apparent inconstancy is seen in the
-case of a male bird that has lost his mate. Screaming loudly, complaining<span class="pagenum" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</span>
-piteously, demonstrating his grief by voice and actions, he
-flies about the corpse of his loved one, touches it perhaps with his
-bill as though he would move it to rise and fly away with him,
-raises anew his heart-rending cries, which are intelligible even to
-man; wanders within his range from place to place, pausing awhile,
-calling, coaxing, and complaining, now in one favourite spot, now
-in another; neglects to take food, throws himself angrily on other
-males of his species as if he envied them their happiness and would
-make them share his own misfortune; finds no rest anywhere,
-begins without finishing, and acts without knowing what he does.
-So he goes on for days, perhaps weeks, in succession, and often he
-remains as long as possible on the scene of his misfortune, without
-making any expeditions in search of a fresh mate.<a id="FNanchor_66" href="#Footnote_66" class="fnanchor">[65]</a> Certain species,
-by no means only those parrots so appropriately named “inseparables”,
-but finches and others, even horned owls, after such a severe
-blow lose all joy in life, mourn quietly, and literally pine away
-until released by death.</p>
-
-<p>One of the chief causes, if not the sole cause, of such deep grief
-may be the great difficulty, sometimes the impossibility, of finding
-and winning another mate. The female has often no time for grief,
-for, sooner or later, sometimes immediately, new suitors appear and
-so overwhelm her with attention and tenderness that she must let
-herself be consoled whether she will or not. And if, in addition,
-anxiety about her brood fills her motherly heart, all other thoughts
-give place to that, and no room is left for enduring grief. But if
-she, too, has a difficulty in replacing her loss, she expresses her sorrow
-no less distinctly than the male. But sometimes she does even more,
-for she may voluntarily forego a new alliance. A sparrow widow,
-carefully observed by my father, though she had eggs to hatch, and,
-later, young ones to rear, accepted none of her suitors but remained
-unmated, and fed her clamouring brood alone with indescribable
-toil. Another touching incident proving the grief of widowed birds
-is vouched for by Eugen von Homeyer. The wedded bliss of a pair
-of storks, nesting on the roof of that experienced naturalist’s house,
-was brought to a sudden end by one of those detestable bird-shooters
-or would-be sportsmen who killed the male. The sorrowing widow<span class="pagenum" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</span>
-fulfilled her maternal duties without choosing another mate, and
-migrated in autumn to Africa with her brood and others of her
-species. The following spring she reappeared on the old nest, unmated
-as she had left. She was much wooed, but drove all suitors
-away with vicious digs of her bill; she mended her nest busily, but
-only to preserve her right to occupy it. In autumn she migrated
-with the rest, returning in spring, and proceeding as before. This
-occurred eleven years in succession. In the twelfth, another pair
-attempted to take forcible possession of her nest; she fought bravely
-for her property, but did not attempt to secure it by taking another
-mate. The nest was seized, and she remained single. The interlopers
-retained and made use of the nest, and the rightful owner
-was seen no more, but, as afterwards transpired, she passed the
-whole summer alone in a district about ten miles distant. Scarcely
-had the other storks departed, when she returned to her nest, spent
-a few days in it, and then set out on her journey. She was known
-throughout the whole district as “the solitary”, and her misfortune
-and behaviour won for her the friendly sympathy of all kind-hearted
-men.</p>
-
-<p>And such behaviour is only the movement of a machine
-obedient to some external guiding force? All these expressions of
-a warm and living emotion which we have depicted occur without
-consciousness? Believe that who can, maintain it who will. We
-believe and maintain the opposite; the conscious happiness of the
-love and wedded life of birds appears to us worthy of our envy.</p>
-
-
-<hr class="full x-ebookmaker-drop" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="c12">APES AND MONKEYS.</h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>Sheikh Kemal el Din Demiri, a learned Arab, who died at
-Damascus about the year 1405, according to our reckoning, relates
-in his book, <i>Heiat el Heivan</i>; or, <i>The Life of Animals</i>, the following
-wonderful story, which is based on one of the Prophet’s utterances:&mdash;</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-
-<p>“Long before Mohammed, the Prophet and Messenger of God
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</span>the All-merciful, had kindled the light of Faith, before Issa or Jesus
-of Nazareth had lived and taught, the town Aila, on the Red Sea,
-was inhabited by a numerous population who professed the Jewish
-faith. But they were sinners and unrighteous in the eyes of the
-Lord, for they desecrated continually the sacred day of the All-merciful,
-the Sabbath. In vain did pious and wise men warn
-the sinful inhabitants of the godless city; they disregarded the
-command of the Almighty as before. Then those who had warned
-them forsook the unholy place, shook the dust off their feet, and
-resolved to serve Elohim elsewhere. But, after three days had
-passed, the longing for home and friends drove them back to Aila.
-There a wonderful sight met their gaze. The gates of the town
-were shut, but the battlements of the walls were unguarded, so
-that they were not hindered from climbing over them. But the
-streets and market-place of the unhappy town were deserted.
-Where formerly the restless sea of human life had surged and
-swelled, where buyers and sellers, priests and officials, artisans and
-fishermen, had mingled in a motley throng, gigantic baboons now
-sat and crouched, ran and climbed; and from the windows and
-recesses, the terraces and roofs, where dark-eyed women had tarried,
-she-baboons now looked down upon the streets. And all the giant
-monkeys and their comely mates were sad and downcast, and they
-gazed with troubled eyes on the returned pilgrims, pressing closely
-to them with complaining moans and prayerful cries. With surprise
-and sadness the pious pilgrims gazed upon the strange sight,
-until to one of them came the comfortless thought that these might
-be their former relatives degraded to monkeys. To make certain,
-the wise man went straight to his own house. In the door of it,
-likewise, there sat a baboon; but this one, when he saw the righteous
-man, cast his eyes with pain and shame to the ground. ‘Tell
-me, by Allah the All-merciful, O Baboon,’ said the wise man, ‘art thou
-my son-in-law Ibrahim?’ And sadly the baboon answered, ‘Eva,
-Eva’ (I am). Then all doubt vanished from the mind of the pious
-man, and he recognized that, by God’s heavy judgment, the impious
-Sabbath-breakers had been transformed into ‘monkeys’.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Sheikh Kemal el Din does not indeed venture to call this<span class="pagenum" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</span>
-miracle in question, but as a thinking man he cannot refrain from
-expressing the opinion that perhaps the baboons may have existed
-before there were any Jews.</p>
-
-<p>We, for our part, prettily imagined and related as the story is,
-accept this interpretation the more readily, that the apes with which
-the pious zealots of Aila may have had to do are old acquaintances
-of ours. For in Arabia there occur only the Hamadryas or sacred
-baboons; and we find the same excellently depicted on very ancient
-Egyptian monuments. It was the arrangement of their hair which
-appeared to the ancient Egyptians so remarkable that they chose it
-as a model for their sphinxes; while to this day it serves as a pattern
-for the coiffure of the dusky beauties of the Eastern Soudan. The
-sacred baboon holds a very important place in ancient Egyptian
-theology, as we learn, among other things, from Horapollon, interpreter
-of hieroglyphs. According to him the monkey was kept
-in the temples and embalmed after death. He was considered the
-inventor of writing, and was therefore not only sacred to Thoth or
-Mercury, the founder of all science, but a near relative of the
-Egyptian priests, and, on his ceremonious entrance into the
-sanctuary, he was subjected to an examination, in which the priest
-thrust a writing tablet, ink, and pen into his hand, and called upon
-him to write, that they might see whether he were worthy to be
-received or not. It was also maintained that he stood in secret
-relations with the moon, and that the latter exercised an extraordinary
-influence over him; and, finally, he was credited with the
-faculty of dividing time in so obvious a manner, that Trismegistus
-took his actions as the model after which he constructed his water-clock,
-which, like the monkey, divided day and night into twelve
-equal parts.</p>
-
-<p>It is worthy of note that, while the ancient Egyptians regarded
-a relationship with the monkeys as probable, they did not deem it
-possible that they should be descended from a monkey stock. Such
-a view of the degree of relationship between man and monkey is
-first met with among the Indians. From very ancient times until
-the present day there has prevailed among them a belief that at
-least a few royal families are descended from one of the sacred<span class="pagenum" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</span>
-monkeys, the Hanumân or Entellus, which, in India, is held as
-sacred, in a certain sense even as divine, and that the souls of
-departed kings return to the bodies of these monkeys. One of the
-reigning families, in particular, shows its pride in this descent
-through its adopted title of honour&mdash;“tailed Rana”.<a id="FNanchor_67" href="#Footnote_67" class="fnanchor">[66]</a></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f46">
-<img src="images/fig46.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 42.&mdash;Entellus Monkeys (<i>Semnopithecus Entellus</i>).</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Similar views to those prevailing among the Indians have
-come into vogue among ourselves in recent times, and the monkey
-question, which I should like to discuss shortly, yet so as to be
-generally understood, has raised much dust. A scientific question,
-of little general interest to the laity, has not only fanned pious
-anger to blazing flames, but has divided serious naturalists into two
-different parties who defend their respective positions with excited
-warmth. Circles, altogether alien to scientific investigation, have
-taken up the strife, without knowing or suspecting its real import<span class="pagenum" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</span>
-and bearing, have even carried it into realms where it could only be
-productive of mischief, and have thereby caused a confusion which
-will not readily be cleared up. To discuss monkeys at all has
-therefore become a bold undertaking, for, in speaking of them, one
-runs a risk either of degrading the reputed ancestor, or, through
-him, of offending the supposed descendants&mdash;to say nothing of the
-inevitable abuse of the most pitiable kind which ill-mannered
-fanatics, blindly struggling against the spirit of the age, hurl at
-him who ventures to utter the word monkey. Nevertheless, the
-monkey question will not readily disappear from the order of the
-day; for these animals, so evidently our nearest relatives in the
-animal kingdom, are much too deserving of our sympathy, to allow
-of our being deterred by sentimental considerations from investigating
-their life and habits and comparing them with our own, that
-we may so enlarge our knowledge at once of monkeys and of men.</p>
-
-<p>The following is a contribution to such knowledge:-</p>
-
-<p>A general life-picture such as I wish to sketch is not easily condensed
-into few words, since the different species of monkeys vary
-so widely. There are about four hundred, or, at any rate, considerably
-more than three hundred species, and they inhabit every part
-of the world with the single exception of Australia; but they are
-found chiefly in the countries within the tropics. In America their
-range extends from twenty-eight degrees of southern latitude to the
-Caribbean Sea; in Africa it stretches from thirty-five degrees southern
-latitude to the Straits of Gibraltar; in Europe their occurrence is
-limited to the Rock of Gibraltar, where, from time immemorial, a
-troop of about twenty magots or Barbary macaques have existed,
-and are now protected and preserved by the garrison of the Fort.<a id="FNanchor_68" href="#Footnote_68" class="fnanchor">[67]</a>
-Forests and rocky mountains, which they ascend to a height of more
-than 8000 feet, are their favourite habitats. In such places they
-remain, with the exception of a few species, year in year out, giving
-heed to the rotation of the seasons only to the extent of undertaking
-more or less extensive expeditions through the forest in search
-of ripening fruits, or ascending the mountains at the beginning of
-the warm season, and descending again before cold weather sets in;
-for, though they may be met with even in snow-covered regions,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</span>
-they are as fond of warmth as they are of abundant and varied diet.
-Something to bite and crack there must be if they are to remain
-permanently or for any length of time in a place; failing that, they
-shift their quarters. Woods in the neighbourhood of human settlements
-are to them a paradise; the forbidden tree therein troubles
-them not at all. Maize and sugar-cane fields, orchards, banana,
-plantain, and melon plantations they regard as their rightful and
-peculiar feeding-grounds, and districts where they are protected by
-the piety of the inhabitants they also consider very agreeable places
-of abode.</p>
-
-<p>All monkeys, with perhaps the exception of the so-called anthropoid
-apes, live in bands of considerable strength under the leadership
-of an old male. The occupant of this post of dignity rises to it by
-recognized all-round ability; the strongest arms and longest teeth
-decide the matter. While among those mammals which are led by
-a female member of the herd the rest obey willingly, the monkey-leader
-is an absolute despot of the worst type, who compels his
-subjects to unconditional obedience. If anyone refuses submission,
-he is brought to a sense of his duty by bites, pinchings, and blows.
-The monkey-leader requires the most slavish submission from all
-the monkeys of his herd, females as well as males. He shows no
-chivalry towards the weaker sex&mdash;“In Sturm erringt er der Minne
-Sold”.</p>
-
-<p>His discipline is strict, his will unbending. No young monkey
-dare presume to make love to one of the females of his herd; no
-female may venture to show favour to any male except himself.
-He rules despotically over his harem, and his seed, like that of
-Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, is like the sand of the sea-shore for
-multitude. If the herd becomes too large, a troop separates itself,
-under the leadership of a full-grown male, to form a new community.
-Till then the leader is obeyed by all, and is as much honoured as
-feared. Old experienced mothers, as well as young scarcely grown-up
-females, strive to flatter him; exerting themselves especially to
-show him continually that highest favour one monkey can render
-to another&mdash;cleansing his hairy coat from all things not appertaining
-thereto. He, on his part, accepts such homage with the demeanour<span class="pagenum" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</span>
-of a pasha whose favourite slave tickles his feet. The esteem which
-he has been able to evoke gives him confidence and dignity of bearing;
-the battles in which he has constantly to take part give him
-watchfulness, courage, and self-control; the necessity of maintaining
-his authority develops circumspection, astuteness, and cunning.
-These qualities are certainly used in the first place for his own
-advantage, but the rest of the community also benefit by them, and
-his unchallenged supremacy thus receives some justification and
-stability. Ruled and guided by him, the herd, though violent storms
-may rage within it, leads on the whole a very secure, and therefore
-a comfortable life.</p>
-
-<p>All monkeys, except the few nocturnal species, are active by day
-and rest at night. Some time after sunrise they awake from sleep.
-Their first business is to sun and clean themselves. If the night is
-cold and inhospitable, they attempt to improve their comfortless
-couch by thronging together in a heap, or rather a cluster; but are
-still so cold in the morning that a long sun-bath seems absolutely
-necessary. As soon as the dew is dry, they leave their sleeping-places,
-climb to the tree-top or to the highest point of the rock, select
-a sunny seat, and leisurely turn themselves about on it till every
-part of their bodies has been exposed to the sun. When the fur is
-dried and thoroughly warm it is ready for cleaning, and each
-monkey sets to work eagerly and carefully, or requests and receives
-from one of his fellows the service which he, in his turn, is always
-ready to do to others.</p>
-
-<p>When the fur has been cleaned, and, if necessary, brushed into
-sleekness, the monkeys begin to think of breakfast. This presents
-no difficulty, for they refuse nothing that is edible, and a tax is
-levied on the animal and the vegetable kingdom alike. Forest
-and mountainous districts afford fruits, leaf and flower buds, birds’
-nests with eggs or young, snails and grubs; gardens yield fruit and
-vegetables, fields supply cereals and pulses. Here a ripening ear is
-broken off, there a juicy fruit is gathered, in the tree a bird’s nest
-is plundered, on the ground a stone is turned over, in a settlement
-a garden is stripped or a field robbed, and something is carried away
-from all. If he has time, every single monkey destroys ten times as<span class="pagenum" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</span>
-much as he eats, and can therefore very materially damage the produce
-of the farmer, gardener, or fruit-grower. At the beginning of
-an expedition each monkey, in his anxiety to secure himself a meal
-whatever may happen, devours almost indiscriminately whatever
-he can reach; then, if he possesses cheek-pouches, he stuffs these
-as full as possible; but as soon as his most pressing necessities are
-relieved, he selects and criticises every bite, carefully examining and
-smelling every fruit he plucks, every ear he breaks, before eating it,
-and indeed in most cases simply throwing one thing after another
-carelessly away to seize something different, which as often as not
-is rejected in its turn. “We sow, and the monkeys reap,” the
-inhabitants of the Eastern Soudan complained to me, and with justice.
-Against thieves like these, neither fence nor wall, lock nor bolt,
-are sufficient protection; they climb the first, and open the last;
-and what they cannot eat they carry away. It is at once amusing
-and painful to watch them feeding, for then, as at all times, their
-behaviour is a mixture of boldness and artfulness, bravado and
-cunning, love of enjoyment and caution, and indeed also of trickery
-and spitefulness, impudence and malevolence. All their skill and
-dexterity is brought into play when an undertaking seems dangerous.
-They run, climb, leap, if need be even swim to overcome obstacles;
-but in no case do they forget their care for their individual safety.
-The commander always leads the way, and coaxes, calls, chides,
-warns, cries, scolds, and punishes as seems to him good; the herd
-follows and obeys, but without ever entirely trusting him. In
-danger every member of the herd looks out for its own safety,
-rejoining the leader after that is assured; the mothers with a young
-one at their breasts, or on their backs, are an exception, for they are,
-or seem to be, less concerned about their own safety than that of
-their child.</p>
-
-<p>When their expeditions are not attended with danger they often
-rest, and give the young ones opportunity to amuse themselves
-together; but when there is any danger they finish their expedition
-and then enjoy a period of rest and relaxation, during which they
-often indulge in a siesta to help their digestion. In the afternoon
-they set out on another foraging expedition; towards sundown they<span class="pagenum" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</span>
-repair to their usual sleeping-place, which is as far as possible out
-of the reach of beasts of prey, and, after prolonged wrangling and
-disputing, scolding and brawling, they seek their well-earned rest.</p>
-
-<p>Apart from occasional compulsory or apparently profitable
-migrations, the order of the day above described suffers little
-change. Reproduction, which brings about such marked changes
-in the lives of other animals, has very little influence on that of the
-monkeys, for it is limited to no special time, and the mothers carry
-their young ones with them wherever they go. The young ones, of
-which most species produce only one at a birth, come into the world
-as well-developed creatures, with open eyes, but according to our
-ideas they are extremely ugly, and, notwithstanding their comparatively
-advanced development, very helpless creatures.<a id="FNanchor_69" href="#Footnote_69" class="fnanchor">[68]</a> They appear
-ugly because their wrinkled faces and wide open, lively eyes give
-them the expression of an old man, and their short hair makes
-their long fore limbs look longer than they really are; they show
-themselves helpless in that they can make no use of these limbs
-except to attach themselves to their mother’s breast. Here they
-hang, with arms and hands round her neck, legs and feet round her
-hips, without seeming to move anything but their heads for weeks
-together, and the mother is therefore able, without being appreciably
-burdened, to go about her ordinary affairs, and wanders as usual
-along the most breakneck paths, or indulges in the boldest leaps.
-After some time, rarely within a month, the little ones begin to
-attempt some movements, but perform them so awkwardly that
-they excite pity rather than laughter. Perhaps because of this very
-helplessness, the little monsters are watched and handled by their
-mothers with such tenderness that the expression “monkey-love” is
-fully justified. Every monkey mother finds constant occupation in
-looking after her baby. Now she licks it, now cleans its coat, now
-lays it to her breast, now holds it in both hands as if she wished to
-feast her eyes on it, and now she rocks it as if to lull it to sleep.
-If she sees that she is watched she turns away, as if she grudged
-anyone else a sight of her darling. When it is older and able to
-move about it is sometimes allowed to leave its mother’s breast for a
-little, and to play with others like itself, but it remains meanwhile<span class="pagenum" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</span>
-under strict control, and, if it does not obey instantly, is punished
-with slaps and pinches. The maternal care extends even to the
-food. Greedy as the mother generally is, she divides every bite with
-her young one, yet she does not allow it to hurt itself by too hasty
-or immoderate eating, but interferes, in such a case, with motherly
-prudence. But there is rarely any necessity for such interference
-or for severe punishment, for the monkey-child is obedient enough
-to be held up as an example to many a human one. Very touching
-is the conduct of the mother when her little one is obviously suffering;
-if it dies she is in despair. For hours, even days, she carries
-the little corpse about with her, refuses all nourishment, sits indifferently
-in the same spot, and often literally pines to death.<a id="FNanchor_70" href="#Footnote_70" class="fnanchor">[69]</a> The
-young monkey itself is incapable of such deep grief, and it is also
-better taken care of than most other animals if it loses its mother.
-For the next best member of the band, whether male or female,
-possessed by that love of mothering something, which is strong in
-all monkeys, takes charge of the little orphan and caresses it
-warmly. Unfortunately, however, the foster-parent is often at war
-with its better self about its beloved food, and it may leave a young
-one, not old enough to help itself, to pine with hunger, perhaps even
-to die of starvation.</p>
-
-<p>It is difficult, if not impossible, to say anything of general application
-about the talents of monkeys, because these vary as widely
-as the animals themselves. Some traits are indeed common to all,
-but most of their characteristics vary considerably in the different
-species. A disposition which in one is scarcely observable is pronounced
-in another, a trait which is prominent here is sought for in
-vain there. But if we compare the different families, groups, and
-species together, we shall observe a surprising, because unsuspected
-gradation of talents and abilities. It is instructive to proceed in
-this way.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f47">
-<img src="images/fig47.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 43.&mdash;Common Marmoset or Ouistiti (<i>Hapale Jacchus</i>).</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>We must regard the graceful, little, clawed monkeys or marmosets
-of South and Central America as the least developed members of
-the monkey order. They have the same dentition as the higher
-monkeys, but they have flat nails only on the large toe, while on all
-the other toes and the fingers they have narrow claw-like nails,
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</span>which place their hands and feet, or the former at any rate, on the
-level of paws. These outward features correspond to their mental
-endowments. Monkeyhood, we may say, has not reached its full
-development in the family of marmosets. Not only in form and
-colour, but in their carriage, in their whole character and behaviour,
-even in their voice, they remind us of the rodents. They
-seldom sit upright, and at the best are rather like squirrels than
-like other monkeys; they prefer to stand on all-fours with the
-body horizontal; they do not climb easily and freely, with hands
-and feet clasping the branch, like others of their order, but, sticking
-their claws into it, they press close to it and glide along, not<span class="pagenum" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</span>
-of course slowly or unskilfully, but rather as rodents than as
-monkeys. Their voice, too, is quite different from that of all
-the higher monkeys; it is a whistling in high notes which now
-reminds one of the chirping of a bird, now of the squeaking of
-rats and mice, but perhaps most of all of the sound made by
-the guinea-pig. Their behaviour generally is decidedly rodent-like.
-They exhibit the uneasiness and restlessness, the curiosity,
-shyness, and timidity, the inconstancy of squirrels. Their
-little heads only remain a few seconds in one position, and their
-dark eyes are directed now towards this object now towards that,
-but always hastily, and obviously without comprehension, although
-they seem to look out on the world intelligently enough. Every
-action they perform shows their slight power of judgment. As if
-without will, they act on the suggestion of the moment; they forget
-what they have just been doing as soon as their attention is diverted,
-and they prove just as fickle in the expression of their contentment
-as of their displeasure. At one moment they are good-humoured,
-apparently quite satisfied with their lot, perhaps grateful
-for caresses from a friendly hand, the next they are snarling at
-their keeper just as if their lives were in danger, showing their
-teeth, and trying to bite. As irritable and excitable as all monkeys
-and rodents, they yet lack the individuality which every higher
-monkey exhibits, for one acts exactly like another, without originality
-and always in a somewhat commonplace fashion. They have
-all the attributes of cowards&mdash;the complaining voice, the reluctance
-to adapt themselves to the inevitable, the whining acceptance of all
-circumstances, the morbidly suspicious habit of finding in every
-action of another creature some hostility to themselves, the desire
-to swagger while in reality they carefully keep out of the way of
-every real or supposed danger, and an incapacity either to make
-resolutions or to carry them out. Just because there is so little
-of the true monkey about them they are preferred by women and
-despised by men.</p>
-
-<p>On a decidedly higher level stand the Broad-nosed or New-World
-monkeys, which also inhabit America, though even in these, the full
-character of the true monkey is not attained. The dentition numbers<span class="pagenum" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</span>
-a molar more on each side of the jaws than in the higher apes,
-thus there are thirty-six teeth instead of thirty-two; all the fingers
-and toes have flat nails; the body seems more slender than it is,
-because the limbs are very long; the tail is used, in many cases, as a
-powerful grasping-organ. The one-sidedness of their development
-is very characteristic. Exclusively arboreal like the marmosets,
-they are awkward, even clumsy when away from the branches of
-the trees. On the ground their gait is extremely ungainly, uncertain,
-and tottering, particularly in those species which have a prehensile
-tail, but even their climbing does not come at all near that
-of the Old-World monkeys. For increase of the number of organs
-of locomotion does not necessarily result in increased power, still
-less in greater variety of movement; on the contrary, it often
-means one-sidedness, and it certainly does so in the case of the New-World
-monkeys. Their prehensile tail is not to them a fifth, but a
-first hand, used in hanging or fixing the body, in lifting things or
-dragging them along, and so on; but it does not make their movements
-more rapid or free, it adds to safety but not to agility.
-Thanks to the constant use of the tail, its owner never runs a risk
-of falling from the lofty branches&mdash;safe because high&mdash;to the
-dangerous ground beneath, but neither is he able to make any free
-or daring movement. Slowly he sends his prehensile tail in advance
-of every step, always catching hold with it first, and only then
-letting go with hands or feet. Thus he binds himself to the branch
-rather than climbs upon it, and never thinks of attempting a leap
-whose success is in the least doubtful. In this constant carefulness
-for his own precious person the broad-nosed monkey impresses
-one not so much with his prudence as with his slowness, and it
-is noteworthy that the whole character of the New-World
-monkeys bears this out. Their voice is not quite so monotonous
-as that of the marmosets, but it is unpleasant, not to say tiresome.
-It runs through many grades, from a whine to a roar, but it has,
-invariably, a mournful character, and the whole demeanour of the
-animal, when it cries, is pessimistic. After a cool, dewy night, the
-morning sun shines warm and golden through the trees, and a
-thousand-toned song of joy and greeting leaps forth in welcome<span class="pagenum" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</span>
-from a million throats. The howlers prepare to offer their tribute
-of praise also. But how? They have climbed to the dry top
-branches of a giant tree which rises high above its fellows, have
-fastened themselves securely by their tails, and are warming themselves
-comfortably in the sunshine. Then a feeling of well-being
-moves them to raise their voices. One of them, distinguished, it is
-said, by a specially high, shrill voice, acts as leader, and, looking
-fixedly at his companions, begins to chant. The rest look at him
-with the same motionless vacant stare and join in; and frightfully
-their song resounds through the forest, now grunting, now howling,
-now snarling, now rattling, as if all the beasts of the forest were
-waging deadly warfare. The astounding performance begins with
-a bellowing solo; these bellowings become louder, follow each other
-more rapidly as the excitement of the singer&mdash;which is probably
-present though not apparent&mdash;increases and spreads to other<span class="pagenum" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</span>
-members of the community; then they change into howling and
-roaring, and they end as they began. If one looks at the long-bearded,
-serious singers one can scarcely keep from smiling; but
-soon the indescribable discords they produce become as wearisome
-as their monotonous climbing, or rather creeping movements. What
-one does another imitates, but whatever they may do, howsoever
-they may act, their behaviour is always monotonous. Very much
-like these, or not essentially different, are all the monkeys with
-prehensile tails; though a few prominent members of the family,
-the Capuchin monkeys for instance, are rather more free and independent.
-In general, they are as heavy mentally as physically&mdash;usually
-very gentle, good-natured, and confiding, but stupid, peevish,
-fretful, and some of them obstinate, malicious, and spiteful. They
-thus stand considerably higher than the marmosets, but far below
-the Old-World monkeys. Probably it would hardly be doing them
-injustice to say that they possess the bad qualities without the good
-qualities of their Old-World cousins. Their gentleness and good-nature&mdash;apart
-from the fact that these are not found in all the
-species, do not in the least make up for their general lack of enterprise,
-boldness, cheerfulness, liveliness, and decision, circumspection
-and ingenuity&mdash;qualities which place the Old-World monkeys so high&mdash;while
-their everlasting whining and complaining counterbalance,
-in our eyes, all the qualities which might attract us to them.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f48">
-<img src="images/fig48.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 44.&mdash;Red Howling Monkeys (<i>Mycetes seniculus</i>).</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>The monkeys of the Old World, like those of the New, fall into
-two groups to which the rank of families may perhaps be granted,
-although the dentition is essentially alike in both. We call the one
-type Dog-like, the other Man-like, and we may go the length of
-saying that the former teach us what monkeyhood really is, while
-the latter rise above it. For the first group especially, my opening
-remarks hold good. Among them we find monkeys beautiful and
-ugly, attractive and repulsive, lively and serious, good-natured and
-malicious. Really misshapen monkeys there are none, for we must
-admit that even those which appear to us ugly are symmetrical in
-form. Yet some of them are, in many respects, odd-looking creatures.
-Their chief external characteristics are, the more or less protruding
-muzzle, reminding one of a dog’s, the proportionately short arms,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</span>
-the tail, always present though often shortened to a mere stump,
-the more or less developed ischial callosities, and the cheek-pouches
-present in most species. The dentition includes the usual number of
-thirty-two teeth arranged in an unbroken series. They occur in all
-three continents of the Old World, and are most numerous in Africa.</p>
-
-<p>Their endowments and characteristics place them far above the
-marmosets and New-World monkeys. They usually walk very
-well, though some of them hobble along in a comical fashion; they
-are able, without difficulty, to stand on their legs alone, thus raising
-themselves to their full height, and in that position they can walk
-more or less easily. They climb well under all circumstances,
-though some do so only among trees, others among the rocks; some
-of them are also excellent swimmers. The climbing of the arboreal
-species is almost like flight, if I may so speak&mdash;for their skill among
-the branches surpasses all expectation. Leaps of from eight to ten
-yards are to them quite possible achievements. From the topmost
-boughs of a tree they leap to a lower one, which is forcibly bent
-downwards by the shock, from this at the moment of rebound they
-give themselves a strong impetus, and, stretching tail and hind-legs
-out behind them to steer their course, shoot like an arrow through
-the air. The branch of a tree, even if it be covered with the sharpest
-thorns, is to them a well-made road, a climbing plant is a path or a
-ladder according to its position. They climb forwards or backwards,
-on the under or upper side of a branch; in leaping or falling they
-catch a thin twig with one hand, and remain hanging as long as
-they please in every imaginable position; then they climb leisurely
-on the branch, and proceed on their way as coolly as if they were
-on level ground. If the hand misses the desired twig it is caught
-by the foot; if it breaks under the sudden shock they catch in falling
-at a second, a third, and if all break they spring to the ground,
-no matter the distance, and climb up again by the first available
-trunk or climbing-plant. Compared with the clinging and creeping
-of their relatives in the New World theirs appears, and really is,
-a free, unfettered motion which surmounts all obstacles. The
-former are blunderers, the latter finished artists; the former slaves
-of the trees, the latter lords of the branches.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</span></p>
-
-<p>Their voice is as highly developed as their power of movement.
-Theirs is no chirping or whistling, no whining or howling; on the
-contrary, they utter many different sounds expressing the mood of
-the moment, and quite intelligible even to us. Comfort or discomfort,
-desire or satisfaction, good-will or ill-will, love or hate,
-indifference or anger, joy or pain, confidence or mistrust, attraction
-or repugnance, affection or dislike, submissiveness or defiance, but
-above all any sudden emotion, such as fear or horror, find adequate
-expression, comparatively limited though the voice may be.<a id="FNanchor_71" href="#Footnote_71" class="fnanchor">[70]</a></p>
-
-<p>What we may call their mental endowments correspond to their
-physical powers. It may be well to emphasize that the hand,
-which among them first attains to full development, gives them a
-considerable advantage over other animals, and makes some of their
-actions appear more remarkable than they really are; for instance,
-it renders them capable of many skilful devices which would be
-impossible to a dog and to any of those animals which we are wont
-to reckon among the cleverest of mammals. A high degree of
-deliberateness must be conceded to them. Their excellent memory
-treasures up the most various impressions, and their discriminating
-intelligence makes these a store of experiences, which are turned to
-good account as opportunity offers. Thus they act with full consciousness
-of what they are doing, according to circumstances, and
-not as impotent slaves of a power outside themselves, but with
-independence, freedom, and variety, cunningly seizing every advantage,
-and making use of every expedient which they believe will
-further their end. They distinguish between cause and effect, and
-attempt to achieve or nullify the latter by applying or removing
-the former. They not only recognize what benefits or injures them,
-but they know whether they do right or wrong, judging either from
-the standard of some loved one, or that of some master.<a id="FNanchor_72" href="#Footnote_72" class="fnanchor">[71]</a> It is not
-blind chance, but a recognition of what is profitable that regulates
-and guides their actions, makes them submit to the judgment of
-the most capable, moves them to live and act together, teaches them
-to form communities for the weal or woe of the individual, to share
-joy and sorrow, good fortune and misfortune, safety and danger,
-plenty and scarcity,&mdash;in other words, to form an alliance based on<span class="pagenum" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</span>
-reciprocity&mdash;which teaches them to employ powers and means not
-theirs by inheritance, and, finally, presses into their hands weapons
-with which Nature did not supply them. Passions of all kinds, it
-is true, often gain a victory over their circumspection; but these
-very passions are proof of the liveliness of their sensations, or,
-what comes to the same thing, of their mental activity. They are
-as susceptible as children, as irritable as weak-minded men, and
-thus very sensitive to every kind of treatment they may receive; to
-love and dislike, to encouraging praise and chilling blame, to pleasant
-flattery and wounding ridicule, to caresses and chastisement. Nevertheless
-they are not so easily managed, still less so easily trained to
-anything, as a dog or any other clever domestic animal, for they are
-self-willed in a high degree, and almost as conceited as human beings.
-They learn without difficulty, but only when they wish to, and by
-no means always when they ought to, for their self-conceit rebels
-against any submission which they do not see to be to their own
-advantage. They are quite aware that they are liable to be punished,
-and may loudly express their disapprobation of the expected chastisement
-beforehand, yet still refuse to do what is required of
-them; while, on the other hand, they will execute it willingly and
-with the liveliest expressions of understanding, when the task
-happens to suit their humour. Whoever ventures to doubt their
-self-esteem has only to watch their way of treating other animals.
-Unless terrified by their strength and dangerousness, they invariably
-regard other animals as playthings, whether they tease them
-and play tricks upon them, or fondle them and load them with
-caresses.</p>
-
-<p>Some examples, for which I myself can vouch, or which I know
-to be thoroughly authentic, may strengthen the assertions I have
-just made.</p>
-
-<p>As I was travelling in Bogosland, on my first ride into the mountains
-I fell in with a large band of the Hamadryas baboons, referred
-to by Sheikh Kemal el Din Demiri in his narrative. Drying their
-streaming hair in the sunshine, they sat picturesquely grouped on
-the highest points of a cliff, and, on being greeted with rifle bullets,
-they beat an organized retreat and fled. Continuing my journey<span class="pagenum" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</span>
-through the narrow, winding, rocky valley of the Mensa, I came
-upon them some time later, this time in the valley itself, just as
-they were preparing to ascend the rocky wall of the other side to
-seek safety from such annoying disturbances. A considerable number
-had already crossed the valley; the majority were in the act of
-crossing. Our dogs, beautiful, slender greyhounds, accustomed to
-fight successfully with hyænas and other beasts of prey, rushed
-towards the baboons, which, from a distance, looked more like beasts
-of prey than monkeys, and drove them hastily up the precipices to
-right and left. But only the females took to flight; the males, on
-the other hand, turned to face the dogs, growled, beat the ground
-fiercely with their hands, opened their mouths wide and showed
-their glittering teeth, and looked at their adversaries so furiously
-and maliciously that the hounds, usually bold and battle-hardened,
-shrank back discomfited, and almost timidly sought safety beside
-us. Before we had succeeded in stirring them up to show fight,
-the position of the monkeys had changed considerably, and when
-the dogs charged a second time nearly all the herd were in safety.
-But one little monkey about half a year old had been left behind.
-It shrieked loudly as the dogs rushed towards it, but succeeded in
-gaining the top of a rock before they had arrived. Our dogs placed
-themselves cleverly, so as to cut off its retreat, and we hoped that
-we might be able to catch it. But that was not to be. Proudly
-and with dignity, without hurrying in the least, or paying any heed
-to us, an old male stepped down from the security of the rocks
-towards the hard-pressed little one, walked towards the dogs without
-betraying the slightest fear, held them in check with glances,
-gestures, and quite intelligible sounds, slowly climbed the rock,
-picked up the baby-monkey, and retreated with it, before we could
-reach the spot, and without the visibly disconcerted dogs making
-the slightest attempt to prevent him. While the patriarch of the
-troop performed this brave and self-sacrificing deed, the other members,
-densely crowded on the cliff, uttered sounds which I had never
-before heard from baboons. Old and young, males and females,
-roared, screeched, snarled, and bellowed all together, so that one
-would have thought they were struggling with leopards or other<span class="pagenum" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</span>
-dangerous beasts. I learned later that this was the monkeys’ battle-cry:
-it was intended obviously to intimidate us and the dogs, possibly
-also to encourage the brave old giant, who was running into
-such evident danger before their eyes.<a id="FNanchor_73" href="#Footnote_73" class="fnanchor">[72]</a></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f49">
-<img src="images/fig49.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 45.&mdash;Old Baboon Rescuing Young One.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>A few days later I learned by experience that these self-reliant
-animals are a match even for men. On our return from the Bogosland,
-we fell in with a large herd, possibly the same one, and we opened
-fire upon them from the valley with seven double rifles. Our shots
-had an indescribable effect. The same battle-cry which I had heard
-before rang out again, and, as if at the command of a general, they
-prepared for resistance. While the screaming females with the
-young ones fled in all haste over the crest of the rock beyond range
-of our guns, the adult males, casting furious glances, beating the
-ground with their hands, and barking rather than roaring, sprang
-upon projecting stones and ledges, looked down on the valley for a
-few moments, continually growling, snarling, or screaming, and then
-began to roll stones down upon us with so much vigour and adroitness
-that we immediately saw that our lives were in danger and
-took to flight. If it had not been possible for us to clamber up the
-opposite wall of the narrow valley, and so to escape the monkeys’
-fire, we should have been utterly routed. The clever animals not
-only conducted their defence on a definite plan, but they acted in
-co-operation, striving for a common end, and exerting all their
-united strength to attain it. One of our number saw one monkey
-drag his stone up a tree that he might hurl it down with more
-effect; I myself saw two combining their strength to set a heavy
-stone a-rolling.</p>
-
-<p>No animals but the higher apes adopt such means of defence,
-and no other male animal runs into danger to rescue a helpless
-young one of his species. Such traits must not be ignored, and cannot
-be misinterpreted, for they speak for themselves better and more
-loudly than all the sophistical analysis which refuses to admit that
-animals have intelligence and the power of spontaneous action.</p>
-
-<p>That the dog-like monkeys recognize and distinguish between
-cause and effect can be certified by every unprejudiced observer.
-They open doors and windows, drawers, cupboards, and boxes, untie<span class="pagenum" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</span>
-knots, and overcome other obstacles when they have once seen how
-to set about it; but they also invent means to attain similar ends.
-A female baboon, which I brought up in my family, got hold of a
-kitten with the intention of making a pet of it and mothering it,
-but was scratched by the terrified bundling. The monkey carefully
-examined the kitten’s paws, pressed the claws forward, looked at
-them from above, from beneath, and from the side, and then bit
-them off to secure herself against further scratches. My brother
-and I used to startle the same baboon by pouring a little heap of
-powder on the ground in front of her, and setting it alight by means
-of a piece of burning tinder. The sudden blazing up of the powder
-gave our baboon such a fright every time that she screamed loudly
-and sprang back as far as her tether would allow. After this trick
-had been played upon her several times in succession, she protected
-herself from further annoyance by beating the glowing tinder with
-her hand till the spark was extinguished, and then eating up the
-powder. In another case she conjured up fear and horror for herself.
-Like all monkeys without exception, she regarded creeping
-things, and above all snakes, with a boundless horror which was
-most amusing. We often teased her by putting a snake, live, dead,
-or stuffed, into a broad tin box, which was handed to her closed.
-After a time she knew the box and its contents perfectly, but her
-curiosity always mastered her, and she opened it every time, to run
-away screaming directly afterwards.</p>
-
-<p>Not content with recognizing causes really present, this monkey,
-when she suffered any annoyance, sought for probable ones. Something
-or someone must bear the blame of her discomfort. Thus her
-anger was directed against the first person who came in sight. If
-she was chastised, she was not angry with her master and keeper,
-but with anyone else who was present during her punishment; such
-a one must have been the cause of the harsh treatment she received
-from her usually kind master. She had thus exactly the same
-suspicions as small-minded human beings are apt to have in like
-circumstances.</p>
-
-<p>Notwithstanding her own extreme sensitiveness to any punishment,
-even if only threatened, and also to quizzing and teasing, the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</span>
-baboon in question could never refrain from tormenting, annoying,
-and even ill-treating other animals. Our crabbed old badger-dog
-was lying comfortably in the sun enjoying his mid-day nap. The
-baboon saw this, slipped quietly up to him, looked with a sly twinkle
-of her little eyes into the dog’s face to make sure that he was really
-asleep, then suddenly seized the sleeper’s tail and brought him back
-with a violent pull from dreamland to reality. The dog angrily
-rushed at the disturber of his peace to avenge the insult. But the
-monkey escaped the threatened punishment with a single leap over
-the advancing dog, and in the next instant she had seized the tail
-and repeated the outrage, obviously enjoying the powerlessness of her
-furious opponent, until the latter, almost beside himself with anger
-and excitement, unable even to bark, but gasping and foaming,
-tucked his tail between his legs and fled, leaving the enemy in
-possession of the field. If the baboon could have laughed, the
-parallel between her behaviour and that of a mischievous boy would
-have been complete. As it was, the scorn and ridicule with which
-the vanquished dog was overwhelmed were intelligible enough.
-The baboon herself took teasing very ill, would even become furious
-if laughed at by an unprivileged person, and never omitted to take
-her revenge on the first opportunity, even if that should not occur
-for weeks. But then she was a monkey, and felt herself such,
-therefore regarded a dog as a creature of a lower order, her insolence
-towards which was as pardonable as that of every other
-creature towards herself was reprehensible and worthy of punishment.</p>
-
-<p>Of this self-esteem, or rather over-esteem, the dog-like monkeys
-give daily proofs to every careful observer. The baboon in question,
-like all monkeys, was exceedingly fond of pets, and in particular
-of a long-tailed monkey which shared her cage, and could be
-trusted even out of the cage with it, because it was always by the
-baboon’s side as if under a charm. It slept in her arms, and obeyed
-her slavishly. The baboon expected such obedience and took it as
-a matter of course; but she demanded the most absolute subjection
-at meal-times. While the good-natured and obedient long-tailed
-monkey unresistingly allowed its foster-mother to pick out all the titbits,
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</span>the latter only left for the little one what was absolutely necessary,
-and if it did succeed in storing something in its pouches, simply
-opened these again and appropriated the contents to her own use.</p>
-
-<p>Unbounded as is the arrogance and self-esteem of the dog-like
-monkeys, they are thoroughly well aware when they have done
-wrong, that is, have done something deserving of punishment.
-Schomburgk gives a most instructive example of this. In the Zoological
-division of the Botanic Gardens at Adelaide an old sacred
-macaque lived in a cage with two younger members of the same
-species, over whom, as a matter of course, he ruled despotically.
-One day, irritated by something or other, he attacked his keeper
-and wounded him dangerously by biting through an artery on
-the wrist. For this Schomburgk condemned him to death, and
-commissioned another keeper to carry out the sentence by shooting
-him. The monkeys were quite accustomed to fire-arms, which
-were often used in the gardens for killing injurious animals, and
-though they knew their effect they were not disquieted in the least
-when these were brought into their immediate neighbourhood.
-The day after the misconduct of the old tyrant the two young
-monkeys remained quietly at the food-trough on the appearance of
-the keeper intrusted with the execution of their comrade, but the
-criminal himself fled with the utmost haste into his sleeping cage,
-and no amount of coaxing could entice him out of it. An attempt
-was made to lure him forth by setting down food; but he did what
-he had never done before, saw his two subjects eat up the dainty
-fare and did not venture to take part in the meal. Not till the
-suspected keeper had retired did he venture to creep forth, seize a
-few crumbs, and retire in fear and trembling to his hiding-place
-again. At length he was persuaded to come out a second time, and
-the door of his retreat was closed. When he saw the keeper with
-his weapon approaching, he knew that he was lost. Frantically he
-threw himself on the door of his sleeping cage to open it if possible,
-and not succeeding he rushed through the whole cage examining
-every corner and space in the hope of finding a means of escape; at
-last, seeing that there was no possibility of flight, he threw himself
-despairingly on the ground and surrendered himself, his whole body<span class="pagenum" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</span>
-trembling and shuddering, to the fate which overtook him a moment
-later.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f50">
-<img src="images/fig50.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 46.&mdash;Macaque or Bonnet-monkey (<i>Macacus sinicus</i>) and Snake.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>It must be admitted that no mammal of any other order, not
-even the dog, who has associated with us, and been educated, and,
-strictly speaking, formed by us for thousands of years, acts in the
-manner described, or exhibits such a high degree of intelligence.
-And yet a wide gulf lies between the dog-like monkeys and the
-anthropoid apes, of which I have said that they rise even above the
-average of monkeyhood.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</span></p>
-
-<p>By the anthropoid apes we understand those which in their
-structure most resemble man, but are externally distinguished from
-him by the very prominent canine teeth, the relatively long arms
-and short legs, the structure of the hand, the ischial callosities
-present in some species, and the hairy covering of the body. They
-inhabit the tropical countries of Asia and Africa (the former being
-richer in species), and they are divided into three families, of which
-one is confined to Africa. Each of these families embraces only a
-few species, but probably we do not know nearly all of them as
-yet.</p>
-
-<p>The structure of the anthropoid apes points to an arboreal life;
-they are most excellent climbers, though by no means slaves to
-the tree any more than the langurs, long-tailed monkeys, and
-macaques. Their movements, however, both among the branches
-and on the ground, are quite different from those of all other
-monkeys. In climbing up a tree, particularly a smooth trunk without
-branches, they take the same position as a man would do, but,
-thanks to their long arms and short legs, they make much more
-rapid progress than the most expert human climber; and when they
-have reached the branches they put every gymnast to shame by the
-variety and security of their movements. With outstretched arms
-they seize one branch, with the feet they clasp a parallel one, about
-half their height lower down, and, using the upper branch as a rail,
-they walk along the lower one so quickly, though without the least
-sign of effort, that a man walking underneath must exert himself
-vigorously to keep pace with them. On reaching the end of the
-branch, they seize any available bough or twig of the next tree and
-proceed on their way in the same manner, with undiminished speed,
-yet without hurry. In ascending they seize hold of any branch
-strong enough to bear their weight, and swing themselves upwards
-with equal ease whether they are holding the branch with both
-hands or only with one; in descending, they let themselves hang
-with both arms and search about for a new foothold. Sometimes
-they amuse themselves by swinging freely for some minutes; sometimes,
-clasping a branch with arms and feet, they walk, for a
-change, on its lower surface; in short, they assume every imaginable<span class="pagenum" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</span>
-position, and execute every possible movement. Quite unrivalled
-masters of climbing are the long-armed apes or gibbons,
-anthropoid apes with arms so disproportionately long that, when
-outstretched, they measure thrice as much as their upright bodies.
-With incomparable speed and security they climb up a tree or
-bamboo-stem, set it, or a suitable branch swinging, and on its rebound
-spring over spaces of from eight to twelve yards, so lightly
-and swiftly, that they seem to fly like a shot arrow or an alighting
-bird. They are also able to alter the direction of a leap while
-actually springing, or to cut it suddenly short by seizing a branch
-and clinging to it&mdash;swinging, rocking, and finally climbing up by it,
-either to rest for a little, or to begin the old game anew. Sometimes
-they spring through the air in this manner three, four, or five
-times in succession, so that one almost forgets that they are subject
-to the law of gravity. Their walking is as awkward as their
-climbing is excellent. Other anthropoid apes are able to traverse
-a considerable distance in an upright position&mdash;that is, on their
-feet alone, without special difficulty, though when in haste they
-always fall on all-fours, resting on the inturned knuckles of the
-fingers and the outer edges of the feet, and throwing the body
-laboriously and clumsily forward between the extended arms. But
-the long-armed apes move in an upright position only in cases of
-extreme necessity, and then they hop rather than walk. When the
-distance to be covered is a short one they raise themselves to their
-full height, and preserving their balance by extending their arms,
-now more, now less, spread out the great toes as far as possible, and
-patter pitiably along with short, quick steps. Their power of
-movement must therefore be characterized as one-sided, for their
-superiority over the other anthropoid apes in climbing does not
-counterbalance their helplessness on the ground.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f51">
-<img src="images/fig51.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 47.&mdash;The Hoolock (<i>Hylobates leuciscus</i>), one of the Gibbons.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>The voice-power of the anthropoid apes is very noteworthy.
-We find that the most active and agile species have the loudest
-voices, while those of the more widely developed, though less
-nimble, anthropoid apes are capable of greater variety of expression.
-I do not say too much when I assert that I have never heard the
-voice of any mammal&mdash;man, of course, always excepted&mdash;which was
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</span>more full-toned and sonorous than that of a long-armed ape which
-I observed in captivity. I was first astonished, then delighted, with
-these deep notes, uttered with full strength, and by no means disagreeable,
-because perfectly clear and well-rounded. In one species
-the ringing call, which I should describe as a song rather than a
-cry, begins on the key-note E, ascends and descends in semitones
-through the chromatic scale for a full octave, sometimes ending
-with a shrill cry, which seems to be uttered with the animal’s whole
-strength. The key-note remains audible throughout, and serves as
-a grace-note to each of the succeeding ones, which, in ascending the
-scale, follow each other more and more slowly, in descending more
-and more quickly, at last with extreme rapidity, but always with
-perfect regularity. The notes of some species of the group are said<span class="pagenum" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</span>
-to be less clear, but all are so loud that, in the open air, one can hear
-them distinctly at a distance of an English mile. The same correlation
-between agility of motion and voice-power can be observed in
-other anthropoid apes. The slow-moving, awkward-looking orang-utan
-utters, as far as I know, only a strong, deep throat sound;
-the lively, active, sprightly chimpanzee, with only a few notes,
-understands so well how to give them variety of emphasis and
-intelligible expression that one is tempted to concede to him the
-power of speech. He does not indeed speak with words, but with
-sounds, and even syllables, of the constancy of whose meaning the
-observer who has much acquaintance with the chimpanzee can have
-no doubt. Other anthropoid apes of the same family are probably
-not far behind him in this respect.</p>
-
-<p>Anyone who wishes to learn to what a height the mental qualities
-of a monkey may reach must select the chimpanzee or one of
-his nearest relatives for observation, and must associate closely
-with it for a lengthened period, as I have done. He will then discover
-with wonder and amazement, perhaps with slight horror, how
-much the gulf between man and beast can be diminished. The
-other anthropoid apes, too, are highly gifted creatures; they, too,
-surpass all other monkeys in this respect; but the talents of the
-long-armed gibbons or the orang-utans do not attain to the same
-universally intelligible expression&mdash;I may say, the same impressiveness,
-as those of the chimpanzees and their relatives. They&mdash;the
-pongos, the gorilla, the <i>tschiego</i>, and the chimpanzee&mdash;cannot
-be treated as animals, but must be associated with as men, if their
-mental powers are to be known and appreciated. Their intelligence
-is not far behind that of a rude, undisciplined, uneducated
-human being. They are, and remain animals, but they behave so
-humanly that one can almost lose sight of the beast.</p>
-
-<p>For years in succession I have kept chimpanzees, have observed
-them closely and, as far as possible, without prejudice, have associated
-intimately with them, taken them into my family, brought
-them up as playmates for my children, let them eat at my table,
-taught and trained them, waited upon them in sickness, and not
-forsaken them in the hour of death. I have therefore a right to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</span>
-believe that I know them as well as anyone, and that I am justified
-in pronouncing an authoritative opinion. For these reasons I select
-the chimpanzee, in order to show to what height the mental power
-of an animal may rise.</p>
-
-<p>The chimpanzee is not only one of the cleverest of all creatures,
-he is a being capable of deliberation and judgment. Everything he
-does is done consciously and deliberately. He imitates, but he does
-so with intelligence and on due consideration; he allows himself to
-be taught, and learns. He knows himself and his surroundings, and
-he can appreciate his position. In association with man he yields
-submission to superior intelligence; in his relations with animals
-he exhibits a self-conceit similar to our own. What is merely
-hinted at among other apes is quite pronounced in him. He regards
-himself as better, as standing higher than other animals, even other
-monkeys; he rates even human beings exactly according to their
-standing; thus he treats children quite differently from grown-up
-people; the latter he respects, the former he looks upon as comrades
-and equals. He shows an interest in animals with which he can
-form no friendship or other tie, and also in objects which have no
-connection with his natural wants; for he is not merely inquisitive,
-he is greedy of knowledge; an object which has attracted his attention
-increases in value in his eyes when he has found out its use.
-He can draw conclusions, can reason from one to another, and apply
-the results of experience to new circumstances, is cunning, even
-wily, has flashes of wit, and indulges in practical jokes, exhibits
-humours and moods, is entertained in one company and bored in
-another, enters into the spirit of some jokes and scorns others, is
-self-willed but not stubborn, good-natured but not wanting in independence.
-He expresses his emotions like a human being. When
-in a gay mood he smirks with satisfaction, when depressed his face
-is drawn into wrinkles which speak for themselves, and he gives
-utterance to his grief by plaintive sounds. In sickness he behaves
-like one in despair, distorts his face, screams, throws himself on his
-back, beats with his hands and feet, and tears his hair. To a
-friendly voice he responds with sounds expressive of pleasure, to
-chiding with cries of distress. He is active and busy from morning<span class="pagenum" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</span>
-till late in the evening, seeks constant occupation, and when he
-comes to an end of his usual employments he invents new ones,
-even if it should only be slapping his feet with his hands, or knocking
-against hollow boards, and thus producing sounds which give
-him evident pleasure. In a room he occupies himself with carefully
-examining everything that attracts his attention, opens drawers and
-rummages among their contents, opens the stove door to look at the
-fire and shuts it again, holds a key properly, stands before the
-mirror and amuses himself with the reflection of his own gestures
-and grimaces, uses brush and duster as he has been taught, puts on
-blankets and clothing, and so on.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f52">
-<img src="images/fig52.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 48.&mdash;Chimpanzee (<i>Troglodytes niger</i>).</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>His acuteness of observation is strikingly proved by his almost
-unfailingly correct judgment of persons. Not only does he recognize<span class="pagenum" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</span>
-and distinguish his friends from other people, but well-meaning
-from evil-intentioned persons so thoroughly that the keeper of a
-chimpanzee was convinced that anyone with whom his <i>protégé</i> refused
-to make friends was really a good-for-nothing or a scoundrel.
-A thorough but accomplished hypocrite who deceived me and others
-was all along a horror to our chimpanzee, just as if he had seen
-through the red-headed rascal from the first. Every chimpanzee
-who has been much in human society likes best to be a member of
-a family circle. There he behaves as though he felt himself among
-equals. He carefully observes the manners and customs of the
-house, notices immediately whether he is being watched or not, and
-does in the former case what he ought to, in the latter what pleases
-him. In contrast to other monkeys, he learns very easily and with
-real eagerness whatever is taught to him, as, for instance, to sit
-upright at table, to eat with knife, fork, and spoon, to drink from
-a glass or cup, to stir the sugar in his tea, to touch glasses with his
-neighbour, to use his napkin, and so on; with equal case he becomes
-accustomed to clothing, beds, and blankets; without great difficulty
-he gains after a time an understanding of human speech which far
-surpasses that of a well-trained dog, for he follows not merely the
-emphasis but the meaning of words, and executes commissions or
-obeys commands with equal correctness. Exceedingly appreciative
-of every caress and flattery, and even of praise, he is equally sensitive
-to unfriendly treatment or blame; he is also capable of deep
-gratitude, and he expresses it by shaking hands or kissing without
-being asked to do so. He evinces a special fondness for children.
-Being neither spiteful nor vicious, he treats children with great
-friendliness as long as they do not tease him, and behaves to helpless
-infants with really touching tenderness, though towards others
-of his own species, monkeys of a different species, and animals
-generally, he is often rough and harsh. I lay special stress on this
-characteristic, which I have observed in every chimpanzee I have
-brought up, because it seems to prove that the chimpanzee recognizes
-and respects the human even in the youngest child.</p>
-
-<p>The behaviour of a sick and suffering anthropoid ape is most
-touching. Begging piteously, almost humanly, he looks into his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</span>
-keeper’s face, receives every attempt to help him with warm thanks,
-and soon looks upon the physician as a benefactor, holds out his arm
-to him, or stretches out his tongue as soon as he is told, and even
-does so of his own accord after a few visits from the physician.
-He swallows medicine readily, submits even to a surgical operation,
-and, in a word, behaves very like a human patient in similar circumstances.
-As his end approaches he becomes more gentle, the animal
-in him is lost sight of, and the nobler traits of his character stand
-out prominently.</p>
-
-<p>The chimpanzee which I kept longest, and with the help of an
-intelligent, animal-loving keeper educated most carefully, was
-taken ill with inflammation of the lungs, accompanied by suppuration
-of the lymphatic glands of the neck. Surgical treatment of the
-glands was found necessary. Two surgeons, friends of mine who
-were on good terms with the chimpanzee, undertook to open the
-tumour on the neck, the more readily that the monkey believed
-that to be the cause of his suffering, and continually guided the
-surgeon’s hand towards it. But how was the necessary operation
-in such a dangerous spot to be performed without imperilling the
-monkey’s life? Anæsthetics were out of the question because of the
-lung disease, and the attempt to have the chimpanzee held down by
-several strong men had to be abandoned because of his intense
-excitement, and the strenuous resistance he offered. But where
-force failed persuasion succeeded. When the monkey was quieted
-and reassured by the coaxing and endearments of his keeper, he
-allowed a further examination of the swelling, and even submitted,
-without twitching an eyelid or uttering a complaint, to the use of
-the knife, and other painful treatment, including the emptying of
-the opened tumour. When this was done the distressingly laboured
-breathing became instantly less oppressive, an unmistakable expression
-of relief passed over the sufferer’s face, and he gratefully
-held out his hand to both physicians, and embraced his keeper,
-without having been asked to do either.</p>
-
-<p>Unfortunately, the removal of the one trouble did not succeed
-in saving the animal’s life. The neck wound healed, but the inflammation
-of the lungs increased and killed him. He died fully<span class="pagenum" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</span>
-conscious, gently and peacefully, not as an animal, but as a man
-dies.</p>
-
-<p>These are features of the character and conduct of anthropoid
-apes which can neither be misunderstood nor cavilled at. When
-one considers that they can be observed in all anthropoids not yet
-full-grown but beyond the stage of childhood, one must undoubtedly
-grant those animals a very high place. For the opinion expressed
-by some one incapable observer, and thoughtlessly repeated by hundreds,
-that the monkey loses mental power with increasing age,
-that he retrogrades and becomes stupid, is completely false, and is
-disproved by every ape which is observed carefully, and without
-prejudice, from youth to age.<a id="FNanchor_74" href="#Footnote_74" class="fnanchor">[73]</a> Even if we knew nothing more
-about full-grown anthropoids than that they erect shelters resembling
-huts rather than nests, in which to pass a single night,
-and that they drum on hollow trees for amusement, it would be
-enough to lead us to the same conclusion as we have arrived at by
-observation of the young members of this group; that is, that they
-must be regarded as by far the most gifted and highly developed of
-animals, and as our nearest relatives.</p>
-
-<p>And the ape question? I might say that I have just answered it
-in what I have said; but I have no hesitation in expressing a more
-definite opinion.</p>
-
-<p>Everyone must admit that man is not the representative of a
-new order of being, but is simply a member of the animal kingdom,
-and every unprejudiced person will also describe apes as the
-creatures most resembling man. If we compare them with one
-another, and then with man, the conviction is forced upon us, however
-we may strive against it, that there is a greater difference
-between the marmosets and the anthropoid apes than between the
-latter group and man. Zoologically, therefore, one cannot even
-relegate the apes and man to different orders of the highest class
-of animals. This has indeed been done, and is still done, man
-being classed as two-handed and monkeys as four-handed animals,
-but this leaves the most important aid to the classification of a
-mammal, the dentition, out of the question. For the dentition of
-man and monkeys is so essentially similar that it points imperatively<span class="pagenum" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</span>
-to the necessity of placing the two types together. Nor
-is the distinction between two-handed and four-handed tenable, for
-although as regards the structure of hands and feet man and
-monkeys are certainly different, the difference does not imply any
-opposition; and the monkeys are just as much two-handed as we
-are. If we keep to the basis of classification adhered to without
-exception elsewhere, we are forced to place both in one order. I
-have given to it the name <i>Hochtiere</i>.</p>
-
-<p>But though the characteristics which belong to all the higher
-animals as members of one order correspond thus accurately, a
-closer comparison reveals differences between man and apes which
-absolutely forbid a fusion of the two groups such as has been attempted
-in modern times. The symmetry of form, the comparative
-shortness of the arms, the breadth and mobility of the hands, the
-length and strength of the legs, as well as the flatness of the feet,
-the naked skin, and the less-developed canine teeth are external
-marks of man which must not be under-estimated, for they are
-important enough to justify putting him and the apes in different
-families, perhaps even different sub-orders. If, in addition, we take
-man’s endowments into due consideration, compare his movements,
-his articulate speech, his mental capacities with the corresponding
-gifts in the ape, the need for insisting on the boundaries between
-the two is confirmed.</p>
-
-<p>Blind disciples of the Doctrine of Descent, as Darwin founded it
-and others developed it, do indeed cross these boundaries without
-hesitation, but they cannot possibly be regarded as giving a carefully
-thought-out and authoritative judgment on the actual state
-of the case. Satisfactory, not to say probable, as this doctrine is,
-it has not yet risen above the level of an ingenious hypothesis; and
-incontrovertible evidence for the correctness of this hypothesis has
-not yet been produced. Variation within the limits of species and
-breed can be proved, can even be brought about; but transformation
-of one species into another cannot be established in any case. As long
-as this is so we are justified in regarding man and apes as creatures
-of different nature, and disputing the descent of one from the other.
-No attempt to discover or establish a common ancestor, no undertaking<span class="pagenum" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</span>
-to draw up a pedigree for man, alters this in the slightest;
-for true natural science is not satisfied with interpretative theories,
-it demands proofs; it does not want to believe, but to know.<a id="FNanchor_75" href="#Footnote_75" class="fnanchor">[74]</a></p>
-
-<p>So we may without scruple give the apes the place in the scale
-of being which unprejudiced investigation points out. We may
-look upon them as the animals most resembling ourselves, and as
-our nearest relatives in the zoological sense; anything more than
-this we must deny. Much that is characteristic of man is to be
-found in the apes also; but a wide gulf still remains between them
-and true humanity. Physically and mentally they have many of
-the characteristics of man, but by no means all.</p>
-
-
-<hr class="full x-ebookmaker-drop" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="c13">DESERT JOURNEYS.</h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>On the fringe of the desert, under a thick group of palms, a
-small tent is pitched. Around it is a motley collection of bales and
-boxes, built into a sort of barricade. Outside this some Nubian
-boys are lounging or squatting. They are in holiday garb, so to
-speak, for their glossy skins have been freshly smeared with grease.</p>
-
-<p>The travellers whom the tent shelters have come so far on a
-Nile boat, but as the river now describes a huge curve and abounds
-in rocks and rapids, they have decided to cut across the desert.</p>
-
-<p>It is about noon. The sun stands almost vertically above the tent,
-in a cloudless deep blue sky, and his scorching rays are but slightly
-warded off by the loose open foliage of the date-palms. On the
-plain between the river and the desert the heat is oppressive, and
-the strata of air above the burning ground are heaving unsteadily,
-so that every picture is distorted and blurred.</p>
-
-<p>A troop of horsemen, evidently hailing from the desert, appears
-on the horizon. They pay no heed to the village which lies further
-inland, but make straight for the tent. The horses are thin, but
-plainly of no ignoble breed; the riders are dark brown and poorly
-clad, with long loose burnooses more gray than white. Reaching
-the cluster of palms they dismount. One of them approaches the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</span>
-tent and enters with the dignity of a king. He is the chief of the
-camel-drivers (Sheikh el Djemali), to whom we, the travellers, had
-sent a messenger, asking him to provide us with the necessary
-guides, drivers, and camels.</p>
-
-<p>“Peace be with you,” he says on entering, and lays his hand on
-his mouth, his forehead, and his heart.</p>
-
-<p>“Peace be with thee, O Sheikh,” we answer, “the mercy of God
-and his blessing.”</p>
-
-<p>“Great has been my desire to see you, ye strangers, and to learn
-your wishes,” he assures us, as he takes his seat on a cushion in the
-place of honour at our right hand.</p>
-
-<p>“May God, the Almighty, reward thy goodness, O Sheikh, and
-bless thee,” we answer; and we order our servants to bring him
-coffee and a freshly lit pipe before serving ourselves.</p>
-
-<p>With half-shut eyes he comforts his mortal body with the coffee
-and his immortal soul with the pipe; and thick clouds of smoke
-veil his expressive features. There is almost perfect stillness in the
-tent, which is pervaded with the fragrance of the exquisite Djebelit
-tobacco and a thin smoke by no means unpleasant. At last we think
-that we may venture to begin business without violating any of the
-rites of hospitality.</p>
-
-<p>“Is it well with thee, O Sheikh?”</p>
-
-<p>“The Giver of all Good be praised, it is well with your servant.
-And how is it with thee?”</p>
-
-<p>“To the Lord of all be honour and glory, it is well with me.
-Great was our longing to see thee, O Sheikh.”</p>
-
-<p>“May God in His compassion fulfil your desire and bless you.
-Are ye in your state of health well content?”</p>
-
-<p>“Glory be to Allah and to His Prophet, on whom is His grace.”</p>
-
-<p>“Amen, be it as thou hast said.”</p>
-
-<p>Fresh pipes revive the immortal soul; renewed, almost interminable
-courtesies are interchanged; and at last the rigid conditions
-of etiquette have been fulfilled, and it is permissible to turn
-to business matters.</p>
-
-<p>“O Sheikh, with the help of the All-merciful, I would travel
-through this stretch of desert.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</span></p>
-
-<p>“May Allah give thee good speed.”</p>
-
-<p>“Art thou in possession of camels both to run and to carry
-burdens?” we ask.</p>
-
-<p>“I am. Is it well with thee, my brother?”</p>
-
-<p>“The Almighty be praised, it is well. How many camels canst
-thou provide for me?”</p>
-
-<p>Instead of an answer only countless clouds of smoke issue from
-the Sheikh’s mouth, and it is not until we repeat our question that
-he lays aside his pipe for some moments and says with dignity,
-“Sir, the number of the camels of Beni Said is known to Allah
-alone; no son of Adam has ever counted them.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, then, send me twenty-five beasts, and among them six
-trotters. And I have besides need of ten large water-bags.”</p>
-
-<p>The Sheikh smokes afresh without giving answer.</p>
-
-<p>“Wilt thou send the beasts we desire?” we repeat with emphasis.</p>
-
-<p>“I shall do so to serve thee,” he answers, “but their owners
-require a high price.”</p>
-
-<p>“How much?”</p>
-
-<p>“At least four times the customary wages and hire will be
-necessary.”</p>
-
-<p>“But Sheikh, Allah, the Most High, preserve thee: these are
-demands which no one will be willing to grant. Praise the Prophet!”</p>
-
-<p>“God, the Preserver of all, be glorified and His messengers
-blessed! Thou art in error, my friend: the merchant who has his
-camp over there has offered me double what I ask; only my friendship
-for thee has allowed me to make so small a demand.”</p>
-
-<p>In vain seems all haggling, all further business. Fresh pipes
-are brought and are smoked; renewed courtesies are exchanged;
-the names of Allah and His Prophet are freely misused on both
-sides; most precise inquiries after health and comfort are made
-mutually; until at length the studied courtesy of the native begins
-to waver and the traveller from the North loses patience.</p>
-
-<p>“Then know, Sheikh, that I am in possession of a letter authorizing
-a demand for means of convoy from the Khedive and likewise
-one from the Sheikh Soliman; here are both of them, what dost
-thou demand now?”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</span></p>
-
-<p>“But, sir, if thou holdest a safe-conduct from his high majesty,
-why dost thou not demand the head of thy slave? It is at thy
-service, on his orders. I take thy wishes on my eyes and on my
-head. Command and thy servant obeys. Thou knowest the
-government prices. Allah protect thee; in the morning I shall send
-thee men, beasts, and water-skins.”</p>
-
-<p>If any one imagines that all the preparations for the desert
-journey were thus brought to a satisfactory conclusion, he is indeed
-totally ignorant of the manners and customs of the people. In the
-morning none of the promised drivers or beasts had put in their
-appearance; only by afternoon did they begin to come in; not even
-on the following morning, but at soonest about the time of afternoon
-prayer, could one think of starting. “Bukra inshallah&mdash;to-morrow,
-if God will”&mdash;is their motto, and it baffles all commands.
-Indeed, there is much to do, much to arrange, and much
-to be planned before the journey can be undertaken.</p>
-
-<p>In course of time the tent is the centre of a gay and lively picture.
-The sunburnt children of the desert bustle about among the
-baggage. Their activity is unbusiness-like to a degree, but they
-seem to try to make up for this by incredible noisiness. The
-baggage, which had been arranged in a sort of barricade, is scattered
-about; individual pieces are lifted and tested as regards both
-weight and bulk; one package is compared with another, selected
-and then rejected, strapped together and then pulled apart again.
-Each driver tries to outwit his neighbour, each endeavouring to
-secure the lightest load for his own beast; each one rushes about
-in opposition to the rest, and all are shouting and roaring, screaming
-and scolding, swearing and cursing, entreating and execrating.
-In anticipation of what is coming the camels also add to the noise
-right lustily, and if, instead of roaring, and growling and grumbling,
-they should keep silence for a while, that only means: Our time
-has not yet come, but it is coming! Anyhow, with or without the
-camels’ accompaniment, the stranger’s ear is harassed, literally
-tortured, by all the medley of sounds which fall upon it at once.
-For hours together the bustle, the racket, the uproar continues;
-the men scold and quarrel over the loads until they have had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</span>
-enough or more than enough; and at last the prelude comes to an
-end.</p>
-
-<p>After peace is concluded they begin to twist the bast fibres of the
-date-palm into cords and ropes. With these they sling the bales
-and boxes cleverly together; they make hooks and eyes so that the
-two bundles may be fastened quickly to the saddle and as quickly
-loosened; they mend the ready-made nets which they have brought
-to hold the smaller packages; and they test the large and small
-skin bags, patching them where need be, and finally smearing them
-with ill-smelling varnish of colocynth. Lastly, they examine the
-sun-dried flesh, fill several bast bags with Kaffir-millet or dhurra,
-others with wood-charcoal, and some perhaps with camels’ dung,
-rinse out the skin-bags and fill them with water fresh from the
-stream. As the tedious business is brought to a close one hears
-each utter a hearty “Thank God”&mdash;“El hamdu lillahi”.</p>
-
-<p>To look after all these preparations is the duty of the <i>Chabir</i> or
-leader of the caravan. According to its importance is his rank,
-but in all cases he must be what his title signifies&mdash;one who knows
-the way and the existing conditions. Experience, honesty, cleverness,
-mettle, and bravery are the requirements of his difficult, and
-not rarely dangerous office. He knows the desert as a mariner the
-sea, he can read the stars, he is familiar with every oasis and every
-spring on the course of the journey, he is welcome to the tent of
-every Bedouin or nomad chief, he understands all sort of precautions
-against break-down or peril by the way, he can cure snake-bite
-and scorpion-sting, or at least alleviate the sufferings of the injured,
-he wields the weapons of the warrior and of the huntsman with
-equal skill, he has the word of the Prophet not only on his lips but
-in his heart, he utters the “<i>Fatiha</i>” at starting, and discharges the
-obligations of Mueddin and Iman at the appointed times; in a word,
-he is the head of the many-membered body which travels through
-the desert. In the solitudes where nothing seems to point the
-way which other caravans have taken, where the wind obliterates
-every track almost as soon as the last camel has passed, he finds
-signs unseen by others which guide him aright. When the dry,
-ill-boding dust of the desert hides the everlasting heavens, his
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</span>genius is his guiding star; he tests the drifting sand, measures its
-waves, and estimates their direction; he reads the points of the
-compass on a stem of grass. On him every caravan, every traveller
-depends without mistrust. Ancient and in part most remarkable
-laws, inscribed in no charter, yet known to all, make him responsible
-for the welfare of the journey and for the life of each
-traveller, except in so far as any inevitable dispensation of the
-Ordainer of destiny may decree otherwise.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f53">
-<img src="images/fig53.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 49.&mdash;Caravan in the African Desert.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>At the sacred hour, the time of afternoon prayer, the leader
-announces to travellers and drivers that all is ready for the start.
-The brown men rush around, catching, leading, saddling, and loading
-the camels. Resisting to the utmost the beasts are forced to
-obey; they seem to have a vivid foreboding of a stretch of toilsome
-days. Their time has now come. Roaring, screaming, snarling,
-and grumbling, in obedience to the inimitable guttural commands of
-their masters and sundry gentle hints from the whips, they sink down
-on their bended knees; bellowing they adjust themselves to receive
-the unwelcome burden on their humped backs, and still bellowing
-they rise with their load. Not a few kick and bite in their
-efforts to resist being loaded, and it indeed requires all the
-inexhaustible patience of the drivers to subdue the obstinate
-creatures. But patience and tact master even camels. As soon as
-the rebellious beast has consented to kneel, one of the drivers stands
-up on its bent fore-legs, and with a quick grip seizes the upper part
-of the muzzle so that by pressing the nose he can stop the camel’s
-breathing; meanwhile two others from opposite sides lift the
-equally poised burden on to the saddle; a fourth runs fastening
-pegs through the loops of the ropes; and the fractious camel is
-loaded before he has quite regained his senses. As soon as all are
-loaded, the march begins.</p>
-
-<p>It is now the turn of the well-saddled trotting camels. Each
-traveller fastens his weapons and indispensable personal luggage
-to the high, trough-shaped saddle fixed over the hump. He then
-proceeds to mount his steed. For the novice this is usually a
-critical business. With a bold spring he must leap into the saddle,
-and, as soon as he touches this, the camel bolts up. He rises backwards,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</span>
-first on his fore-knees, immediately afterwards on his long
-hind-legs, and finally on his fore-legs. To the second jerk the
-novice in camel-riding usually falls a victim, he is hurled out of
-the saddle and either kisses mother earth or falls on the beast’s
-neck and holds on tightly. The camel is much too ill-humoured
-to treat this as a joke or an accident. An angry cry bursts from its
-ugly lips; it flies into a passion with the poor traveller, hanging
-in a most unenviable position on its neck, and proceeds to shake
-itself free both of him and his baggage. It takes some time before
-the traveller from the North learns to bend his body forwards and
-backwards at the right moment so as to keep his seat as the camel
-springs up.</p>
-
-<p>For our own part, we swing ourselves into the saddle with
-the agility of natives. Urging on our steed with a few strokes of
-the whip, and keeping it in due check by means of a fine nose-rein,
-we hasten after the leader. Our camel, a lank, loosely-built,
-long-legged creature, falls at once into that uniform, persistent,
-long-stepping, and most effective trot, to which it is trained from
-earliest youth, and which raises it high above all beasts of burden,
-and closely follows the leaders. The small head is stretched far
-in front; the long legs swing quickly backwards and forwards;
-behind them sand and small stones rise into the air. The burnooses
-of the riders flutter in the wind; weapons and utensils clatter
-together; with loud calls we spur on the beasts; the joy of travel
-seems to give our spirits wings. Soon we overtake the caravan of
-baggage-camels which had preceded us; soon every trace of human
-settlement disappears; and on all sides there stretches in apparent
-infinitude&mdash;the desert.</p>
-
-<p>Sharply defined all around, this immense and unique region covers
-the greater part of North Africa, from the Red Sea to the Atlantic,
-from the Mediterranean to the Soudan, including whole countries in
-its range, embracing tracts of fertile land; presenting a thousand
-varieties, and yet always and everywhere the same in its essential
-features. In area, this wonderful region is nine or ten times larger
-than the whole of the German Empire, and three or four times larger
-than the Mediterranean. No mortal has thoroughly explored or<span class="pagenum" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</span>
-even traversed it; but every son of earth who has set foot on it
-and crossed some part of it, is in his inmost heart impressed with
-its size and grandeur, its charm and its horror. Even on the most
-matter-of-fact Northerner who sojourns in the desert a lasting,
-ineffaceable impression is left by the glowing splendour of the sunlight
-and the parching heat of its days, by the heavenly peacefulness
-and the magical phantoms of its nights, by the witchery of the
-radiant atmosphere, by the dreadfulness of its mountain-moving
-storms; and many a one may have experienced, what the children
-of the desert so acutely feel&mdash;a longing to return, to breathe its air
-for a day, an hour, to see its pictures again with the bodily eye, to
-experience again that “unutterable harmony” whose echoes the
-desert awakens in the poetic soul. In short, there is a home-sickness
-for the desert.</p>
-
-<p>It is literally and truly “El Bahhr bela maa”&mdash;the sea without
-water&mdash;the sea’s antithesis. To the sea the desert is not subject as
-are other parts of the earth; the might of the vitalizing and sustaining
-element is here annulled. “Water silently embraces all things”&mdash;the
-desert alone excepted. Over the whole earth the winds bear the
-clouds, the sea’s messengers, but these fade away before the glow
-of the desert. It is rarely that one sees there even a thin, hardly
-perceptible vapour; rarely can one detect on a leaf in the morning
-the damp breath of the night. The flush of dawn and the red glow
-of sunset are indeed seen, but only, as it were, in a breath which is
-scarce formed when it passes away. Wherever water gains the
-mastery, the desert changes into fertile land, which may, indeed, be
-poor enough, but the limits between them are always sharply
-defined. Where the last wave of the sacred Nile, raised above its
-level by man’s ingenuity, loses itself in the sand, the contrast is
-seen; the traveller, whose way lies from the river to the hills
-adjacent, may stand with one foot on a field of sprouting grain, and
-with the other touch the desert. It is not the sand itself which
-hinders the growth of plants, but solely the scorching heat which
-radiates through it. For, wherever it is irrigated or periodically
-watered, there, amid the otherwise plantless desert, a green carpet
-of vegetation is spread, and even shrubs and trees may grow.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f54">
-<img src="images/fig54.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 50.&mdash;An Encampment in the Sahara.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Barren, pitifully barren is the desert, but it is not dead&mdash;not, at
-least, to those who have eyes to see its life. Whoever looks with a
-dull eye sees nothing but sandy plains and rocky cones, bare low
-grounds and naked hills, may even overlook the sparse reed-like
-grasses and shrubby trees of the deeper hollows, and the few
-animals which occur here and there. But he who really wishes to
-see can discover infinitely more. To the dull-eyed the desert is a
-land of horrors; they allow themselves to be so depressed by the
-glowing heat of the day that the blissfulness of the night brings
-them no comfort or strength; they ride into the desert trembling,
-and leave it shuddering; their sensations are all for the terrible,
-their feelings for the annoyances attendant on the journey; for the
-infinite sublimity of the desert such hearts are too small. But
-those who have really learned to know the desert judge otherwise.</p>
-
-<p>Barren the desert is, we confess, but it is not dead. Thus,
-although the general aspect is uniform, the nature of the surface
-varies greatly. For wide stretches the desert is like a rocky sea,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</span>
-with strangely-shaped cones, abrupt precipitous walls, deeply-riven
-gorges, sharp-angled ridges, and wondrous towering domes. Over
-these the ceaselessly-blowing wind drifts the sand, now filling up
-hollows, now emptying them again, but always grinding, polishing,
-hollowing out, sharpening, and pointing. Black masses of sandstone,
-granite, or syenite, more rarely of limestone or slate, and here and
-there of volcanic rock glow in the sun, and rise in expressively-outlined
-ranges. On one side the wind robs these of every covering,
-driving the fine sand uninterruptedly over their summits, completely
-enveloping them in a veil in times of storm, and leaving no
-particle of sand at rest until it has been blown across the ridge.
-On the lee side, protected from the wind, lie golden yellow beds of
-the finest rolled sand, which form terraces one above another, each
-about a yard in height. But they also are in ceaseless movement,
-continually displacing one another from above downwards, and
-being renewed from the other side of the range. Strikingly contrasted
-with the black walls of the exposed side, these terraces of
-sand are visible from afar, and in certain lights they sparkle like
-broad golden ribbons on the hills. We may venture to call such
-ranges the regalia of the desert. No one unacquainted with the
-glowing South can picture the marvellous wealth of colour, the
-splendour and glamour, and the infinite charm which the overflowing
-sunlight can create on the dreariest and wildest mountains of
-the desert. Their sides are never clothed with the welcome green
-of woodland, at most the highest peaks bear a scant covering of
-bushes, to which the precipitation of vapour at this height allows a
-bare subsistence and a stunted growth. One misses the whispering
-of the beeches, and the rustling of the firs and pines; there is none
-of the familiar murmuring, or joyous chatter, or echoing roar of
-running water, which lays silver ribbons on our mountains at home,
-fringing them here with verdure, while in another place the sun
-shining upon rushing waterfall and whirlpool enhaloes them with
-rainbow colours; there is no mantle of ice and snow which the sun
-can transfigure into purple at dawn and sunset, or into glowing
-brightness at noon; and there is no fresh green from any mead.
-In short, all the witchery and charm of Northern mountain scenery<span class="pagenum" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</span>
-is absent; and yet the desert mountains are not deficient in wealth
-of colour, and certainly not in majesty. Every individual layer
-and its own peculiar colour comes into prominence and has its effect.
-And yet, brilliant as may be the brightly-coloured and sometimes
-sharply-contrasted strata, it is on the continuously sand-polished,
-grandly-sculptured cones, peaks, gullies, and gorges that the light
-of heaven produces the finest play of colour. The alternations of
-light and shade are so frequent, the flushing and fading of colours
-so continuous, that a very intoxication of delight besets the soul.
-Nor do the first and last rays of the sun fail to clothe the desert
-mountains in purple; and distance sheds over them its blue ethereal
-haze. They, too, live, for the light gives them life.</p>
-
-<p>In other regions the desert is for wide stretches either flat or
-gently undulating. For miles it is covered with fine-grained,
-golden-yellow sand, into which man and beast sink for several
-centimetres. Here one often sees not a single stem of grass nor
-living creature of any kind. The uniformly blue sky roofs in this
-golden surface, and contributes not a little to suggest the sea. In
-such places the track of the “ship of the desert” is lost as it is
-made; they are pathless as the sea; for them as for the ocean was
-the compass discovered. Less monotonous, but not more pleasant,
-are those regions on which loose, earthy, or dusty sand forms a soil
-for poisonous colocynth-gourds and the wholesome senna. Long low
-hills alternate with shallow and narrow hollows, and a carpet of the
-above-named plants, which from a distance seems green and fresh,
-covers both alike. Such places are avoided by both man and beast,
-for the camel and his driver often sink a foot deep into the loose
-surface-soil. Other tracts are covered with coarse gravel or flints,
-and others with hollow sand-filled balls, rich in iron, which look
-almost as if they had been made by human hands, and whose origin
-has not yet been very satisfactorily explained.<a id="FNanchor_76" href="#Footnote_76" class="fnanchor">[75]</a> On such stretches,
-where the camel-paths are almost like definite highways, thousands
-of quartz crystals are sometimes exposed, either singly or in groups,
-like clusters of diamonds set by an artist hand. With these the
-sun plays magically, and such stretches gleam and sparkle till the
-dazzled eye is forced to turn away from them. In the deepest<span class="pagenum" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</span>
-hollows, finally, the dust forms a soil, and there one is sure to find
-the reed-like, but very hard, dry, sharp, dark-green alfa, umbrella-shaped
-mimosas, and perhaps even tom-palms, pleasant assurances
-of life.</p>
-
-<p>But of animal life also there is distinct evidence. To think of
-the desert as a dead solitude is as erroneous as to call it the home
-of lions. It is too poor to support lions, but it is rich enough for
-thousands of other animals. And all these are in a high degree
-remarkable, for in every respect they prove themselves the true
-children of the desert.</p>
-
-<p>It is not merely that their colouring is always most precisely
-congruent with the dominant colour of the ground, that is generally
-tawny, but the desert animals are marked by their light and
-delicate build, by their strikingly large and unusually acute eyes
-and ears, and by a behaviour which is as unassuming as it is self-possessed.
-It is the lot of all creatures born in the desert to be
-restless wanderers, for sufficient food cannot be found all the year
-round at one place, and the children of the desert are endowed
-with incomparable agility, indefatigable endurance, untiring persistence;
-their senses are sharpened so that the pittance which is
-offered is never overlooked, and their clothing is adapted to conceal
-them alike in flight or in attack. If their life is perhaps somewhat
-hard, it is certainly not joyless.</p>
-
-<p>The fact that almost all the desert animals agree in colouring
-with their surroundings explains why the traveller, who is not an
-experienced observer, often sees, at first at least, but little of the
-animal life. Moreover, the desert seems far poorer than it is, since
-it is not till dusk that most of its tenants leave their places of rest
-and concealment and begin to be lively. Some, however, force
-themselves on the attention of the least observant. Even though
-the traveller may fail to notice the various species of desert-lark
-which cross his path everywhere, and are noteworthy for their
-likeness to the ground and for their extraordinarily developed
-powers of flight, he cannot possibly overlook the sand-grouse; and
-though he may ride unobserving over the burrows of the jerboas,
-he is sure to observe a gazelle feeding not far from his path.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f55">
-<img src="images/fig55.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 51.&mdash;Gazelles lying near a Mimosa.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>This antelope may be regarded as typically a desert animal.
-Although it is proportionate in all its parts, the head and sense-organs
-seem almost too large, and the limbs too delicate, in fact
-almost fragile. But this head carries a brain of unusual cleverness
-for a ruminant, and those limbs are as if made of steel, exceedingly
-strong and elastic, admirably suited for agility and untiring endurance.
-One must not judge the gazelle of the desert from its appearance<span class="pagenum" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</span>
-in captivity, cooped up in a narrow space. What activity,
-adroitness, suppleness, grace, and spirit, it displays in its native
-haunts! How well it deserves to have been chosen alike by the
-Oriental and by the native of the desert as the image of feminine
-beauty. Trusting to its tawny coat, as well as to its incomparable
-agility and speed, it gazes with clear, untroubled eyes at the camels
-and their riders. Without seeming to be disturbed by the approaching
-caravan, it continues to browse. From the blossoming
-mimosa it takes a bud or a juicy shoot; between the sharp alfa
-leaves it finds a delicate young stem. Nearer and nearer comes the
-caravan. The creature raises its head, listens, sniffs the air, gazes
-round again, moves a few steps, and browses as before. But suddenly
-the elastic hoofs strike the ground, and the gazelle is off,
-quickly, lightly, and nimbly, as if its almost unexcelled speed were
-but play. Over the sandy plain it skims, quick as thought, leaping
-over the larger stones and tamarisk bushes as if it had wings. It
-seems almost to have left the earth, so surprisingly beautiful is its
-flight; it seems as if a poem of the desert were embodied in it, so
-fascinating is its beauty and swiftness. A few minutes of persistent
-flight carry it out of reach of any danger with which the
-travellers can threaten it, for the best trotter would pursue in vain,
-and not even a greyhound could overtake it. Soon it slackens its
-speed, and in a few moments it is browsing as before. And if the
-bloodthirsty traveller begins the chase in earnest, the sly creature
-has a tantalizing way of allowing him to get near it again; a second
-and a third time it cleverly gets out of range of his murderous
-weapons, until at length, becoming scared, it leaves all danger far
-behind. The further it gallops the more slender seem its body
-and limbs; its outline begins to swim before the eyes; at length it
-disappears on the sandy flat, merging into it and seeming to melt
-away like a breath of vapour. Its home has received and concealed
-the fugitive, removed it, as if magically, from vision, and
-left not a trace behind. But if the vision is lost to the eye it
-remains in the heart, and even the Western can now understand
-why the gazelle has become such a richly-flowering bud in the
-poesy of the East, why the Oriental gives it so high a rank among<span class="pagenum" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</span>
-beasts, why he compares the eyes which kindle fires in his heart
-to those of the gazelle, why he likens the neck around which he
-throws his arms in love’s secret hour to that of the swiftest of
-the desert’s children, why the nomad brings a tame gazelle to the
-tent of his gladly-expectant spouse, that she may gaze into its
-tender eyes and reflect their beauty on the hoped-for pledge of their
-wedlock, and why even the sacred poet finds in the fair creature
-a visible emblem of his longing after the Most High. For even
-he, removed from the world, must have felt a breath of the passion
-which has purified the words and made smooth the verses and
-rhymes of the fiery songs in praise of the gazelle.</p>
-
-<p>Less attractive, but by no means less interesting, are some other
-desert animals. Among the sparsely sprouting alfa there is a
-numerous flock of birds about the size of pigeons. Tripping hither
-and thither, scratching and scraping with their bills, they seek for
-food. Without anxiety they allow the rider to approach within a
-distance of a hundred paces. A good field-glass enables one to see
-not only every movement, but also the more prominent colours of
-their plumage. With depressed head, retracted neck, and body held
-almost horizontally, they run about in search of seeds, the few
-grains which the desert grasses bear, freshly unfolded panicles, and
-insects. Some stretch out their necks from time to time and peer
-circumspectly around, others, quite careless, paddle in the sand,
-preening their feathers, or lie at ease, half sideways, in the sun.
-All this one can distinctly see, and one can count that there are over
-fifty, perhaps nearly a hundred. What sportsman would their presence
-not excite? Sure of his booty, the inexperienced traveller
-shuts up his field-glass, gets hold of his gun, and slowly approaches
-the gay company. But the birds disappear before his eyes. None
-has run or flown, yet none is to be seen. It seems as if the earth
-had swallowed them. The fact is that, trusting to the likeness
-between their plumage and the ground, they have simply squatted.
-In a moment they have become stones and little heaps of sand.
-Ignorant of this, the sportsman rides in upon them, and is startled
-when they rise with simultaneous suddenness, and loudly calling
-and scolding, take wing and fly noisily away. But if he should<span class="pagenum" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</span>
-succeed in bringing one down, he will not fail to be struck by their
-colouring and marking, which is as remarkable as their behaviour.
-The sand-coloured upper surface, shading sometimes into gray,
-sometimes towards bright yellow, is broken and adorned by broad
-bands, narrower bars, delicate lines, by dots, spots, points, streaks,
-and blurs, so that one might fancy at first sight that birds so
-marked must be conspicuous from a distance. But all this colour-medley
-is simply the most precise copy of the ground; every dark
-and light spot, every little stone, every grain of sand seems to have
-its counterpart on the plumage. It is no wonder then that the
-earth can, as it were, make the bird part of itself, and secure its
-safety, which is further assured by the creature’s strong wings,
-which are capable of incomparably swift flight. And so it is that
-the poetic feeling of the Arabs has idealized these sand-grouse in
-luxuriant fancy and flowery words, for their beauty fascinates the
-eye, and their marvellous swiftness awakens longing in the heart
-of mortals who are bound to the earth.</p>
-
-<p>All other desert animals display characters like the two which
-we have described. Thus there is a lynx, the caracal, leaner and
-lanker, with longer ears and larger eyes than the rest of his race,
-moreover not striped nor spotted, but sand-coloured all except his
-black ear-tips, eye-stripes, and lip-spots. His hue varies slightly,
-being lighter or darker, and with more or less red, according to the
-locality in which he lives. There is also a desert fox, the fenec,
-the dwarf of the dog family, with dun-yellow fur, and extraordinarily
-large ears. The desert also harbours a small rodent, the
-so-called jumping-mouse, the jerboa: he suggests a miniature kangaroo,
-and has exceedingly long hind-legs, diminutive fore-legs, and
-a tail longer than the body with hairs in two rows. He is more
-harmless and good-natured, but also swifter and more agile than any
-other rodent.</p>
-
-<p>The birds, the reptiles, and even the insects show the same
-stamp, though form and colouring may vary greatly. When
-any other colour besides sandy-yellow becomes prominent, if hair,
-feather, or scale be marked with black or white, ashy-gray or
-brown, red or blue, such decorations occur only in places where<span class="pagenum" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</span>
-they are not noticeable when looked at from above or from the side.
-But where a mountain rises in the midst of the desert, it shows its
-varied character also in the animal life. On the gray rocks of the
-mountains in Arabia the steinbok clambers, the hyrax has its home,
-the bearded vultures nest, and not a few other birds are to be found
-on the peaks and cliffs, in the chasms and valleys. But from the
-dark rocks of more low-lying deserts the only sound one hears is
-the loud but tuneful song of the deep-black wheatear.</p>
-
-<p>Thus the desert exhibits harmony in all its parts and in every
-one of its creatures, and this fact goes far to strengthen the impression
-made on every thoughtful, sensitive, and healthy mind&mdash;an impression
-received on the first day in the desert, and confirmed on every
-succeeding one.</p>
-
-<p>If one would really know the desert and become in any measure
-at home there, one must have a vigorous constitution, a receptive
-mind, and some poetic feeling. Whoever shrinks from enduring
-the discomforts of the journey, whoever fears either sun or sand,
-should avoid the desert altogether. Even if the sky be clear, and
-the atmosphere pure and bright, even if a cooling breeze come from
-the north, the day in the desert is hard to bear. Almost suddenly,
-with scarce any dawn, the sun begins to exert his masterful power.
-It is only near the sea or large rivers that the dawn is heralded
-by a purple flush on the eastern horizon; amid the vast sand-plains
-the sun appears with the first reddening in the east. It rises over
-the flats like a ball of fire, which seems as if it would burst forth
-on all sides. The coolness of the morning is at once past. Directly
-after sunrise the glowing beams beat down as if it were already
-noon. And though the north wind, which may blow for months at
-a time and is often refreshing, may prevent the unequally expanded
-layers of air from shaping themselves into a mirage, yet it does not
-bring sufficient cooling to annul the peculiar heaving and quivering
-of the atmosphere which is seen over the sand. Heaven and earth
-seem to float in a flood of light, and an indescribable heat streams
-from the sun, and is reflected again from the sand. With each hour
-the light and heat increase, and from neither is there any escape.</p>
-
-<p>The caravan starts at daybreak and proceeds without a sound.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</span>
-The baggage-camels step out briskly and their drivers keep pace
-with elastic steps; the riding-camels hasten at full trot, urged according
-to their strength, and soon leave the burden-bearers far behind.
-With unslackened speed they hurry on. All one’s bones seem to
-crack with the jerks and jolting caused by the rapid pace of the
-riding-camels. The sun beats down, piercing through all the garments
-with which one tries to protect oneself. Under the thicker
-clothing perspiration pours all over the body, on the more lightly
-clad arms and legs it evaporates as it is formed. The tongue cleaves
-to the roof of the mouth. Water, water, water! is the one idea left
-to those unaccustomed to these discomforts. But the water, instead
-of being in iron vessels or flasks, is in the characteristic skin-bags
-of the country; it has been carried for days in the full sun on
-the camel’s back, it is more than lukewarm, of evil odour, thick,
-brown in colour, and tastes so vilely of leather and colocynth varnish
-that it produces nausea or even vomiting. But it seems as impossible
-to improve it as to do without it. Its penetrating taste
-and smell baffle all attempts to enjoy it in coffee or tea, or mixed
-with wine or brandy. Undiluted wine or brandy simply increase
-the burning thirst and oppressive heat. The traveller’s condition
-becomes one of torture before the sun reaches the zenith, and his
-distress is the greater the worse the water. But it has to be and is
-endured. And although the Northerner can never conquer his repugnance
-to the kind of water which we have described, he grows used
-to the heat, at first so unbearable, and, as he begins to be at home
-with his steed, other discomforts are also lessened. In the future he
-will make sure of water which is at least clean, and will soon cease
-to complain of its warmth or of any other inevitable inconveniences
-of his journey.</p>
-
-<p>Resting comfortably, though rudely wakened by the loud grumbling
-of the baggage-camels, the experienced travellers allow the
-caravan to go on ahead while they comfort body and soul with
-coffee and tobacco. Thereafter they mount the dromedaries and
-speed along as quickly as these trotters will go. Not a word is
-exchanged, the only sounds are the crunching of the sand under the
-elastic hoofs, the loud breathing, and hollow, deep grunting of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</span>
-camels. In a short time the baggage-train is overtaken, and we
-shoot on ahead. A gazelle browses near our course and raises hopes
-of welcome booty. With spirited movements the graceful creature&mdash;image
-of the desert poet’s fancy&mdash;skips and dances before its
-pursuers; the gasping, sharply-spurred camels rush on with gigantic
-strides. The gazelle seems careless and allows near approach; the
-riders act as if they would pass it, they rein in their beasts and ride
-more moderately. But one slips from the saddle to the ground, stops
-his beast for a moment, and from under cover of its body fires a
-deadly shot. In a trice the leader has sprung from his saddle to make
-sure of the fallen game; triumphantly he drags it along, fastens it
-dexterously to his saddle, and on goes our cavalcade.</p>
-
-<p>Towards noon a halt is called. If there is a hollow near, it will
-probably contain an umbrella-like mimosa, whose thin foliage will
-afford some slight shade; but if the sandy plain stretches unbroken
-on all sides, all that can be done is to fix four lances in the sand
-and stretch a blanket over them. Though the sand on which one
-must lie is glowing, and the air one breathes is oppressive, languor
-and weariness overpower even the natives, how much more the
-Northerner. One seeks rest, but it comes not, and refreshment, but
-one cannot enjoy it. Blinded by the overflowing light and the
-tremulous atmosphere, we shut our eyes; but, tormented by scorching
-heat, and tortured by feverish thirst, we toss about sleepless.
-The hours go by on leaden feet.</p>
-
-<p>The baggage-train winds slowly past and disappears in a vapourous
-sea on whose heaving waves the camels seem to float. Still one
-lingers, and continues to suffer the same agonies. The sun has long
-since passed the zenith, but his glowing beams are as fierce as ever.
-It is not till late in the afternoon that a fresh start is made. And
-again there is a rapid ride, whose swiftness seems almost to create
-a cooling breeze of air. The baggage-camels come in sight again,
-and are soon overtaken. The drivers stride behind them, singing;
-one leads the song, and the rest join in at the end of each verse in
-regular refrain.</p>
-
-<p>When one knows the toilsome labour of the camel-driver in the
-desert, one wonders indeed to hear him singing. Before daybreak<span class="pagenum" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</span>
-he loaded his camel, after he had shared with it a few handfuls of
-soft-boiled dhurra grains&mdash;the sole food of both; all through the
-long day he strides behind his beast, without a bite to eat, with
-at most an occasional mouthful of ill-smelling water; the sun
-scorches his head, the glowing sand burns his feet, the hot air
-parches his sweating body; for him there is no time to pause or
-rest; he may perhaps have had to change the loads of some of the
-beasts, or to catch one or other which had bolted; and yet he sings!
-It is the approach of night which inspires him.</p>
-
-<p>When the sun goes to rest, the limbs of these wizened children of
-the desert seem to become supple again; in this, as in all else, they
-are like their mother. Like her they are parched at noon, like her
-they revive at night. As the sun declines, their poetic gifts weave
-golden dreams even in waking hours. The singer praises the well-springs
-rich in water, the groups of palms around them, and the dark
-tents in the shade; he greets a brown maiden in one of the tents,
-who hails him with welcome; he extols her beauty, likens her eyes
-to those of the gazelle, and her mouth to a rose, whose fragrance
-is as her words, and these as pearls in his ear; for her sake he
-rejects the sultan’s eldest daughter, and longs for the hours when
-fate shall permit him to share her tent. But his comrades admonish
-him to seek after higher joys, and raise his thoughts to the Prophet,
-“who satisfies all longing”.</p>
-
-<p>Such is the song which falls on the Northerner’s ears, and the
-songs of home rise to his lips, and when the last rosy flush of the
-setting sun fades away, when night stretches her robe of witchery
-over the desert, then it seems to him as if the hardest had been
-easy, as though he had suffered no thirst in the heat, nor discomfort
-by the way. Cheerfully he leaps from the saddle, and while the
-drivers unload and tether the camels, he heaps and smooths the
-sand for his bed, spreads his carpet and coverlet, and gives himself
-over with delight to the rest he had longed for.</p>
-
-<p>The small camp-fire illumines the plain only for a few paces.
-Around it the dark, half-naked sons of the desert move about
-busily; the flame casts a weird light on them, and in the half-darkness
-they look like shadows. The bales and boxes, saddles and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</span>
-utensils assume strange shapes; and the camels, lying in a wide
-circle outside the baggage, become ghostly figures when their eyes
-gleam with the reflection of the firelight. It becomes quieter and
-quieter in the camp. One driver after another leaves the camels,
-with whom he has shared his frugal supper, wraps himself in his
-long body-cloth, sinks to the ground, and becomes one with the
-sand. The fire flares up for the last time, loses its glow, and goes
-out. It is night in the camp.</p>
-
-<p>He who would describe a night in the desert should be, by the
-grace of God, a poet. For how can its beauty be described, even by
-one who has watched, revelled, and dreamed through it all? After
-the heat of the day it comes as the gentle, compensating, reconciling
-bestower of unspeakable comfort and inspiration, bringing peace
-and joy, for which a man longs as for his beloved who atones to him
-for his long waiting. “Leïla”, the starry night of the desert, Leïla
-is with justice the Arab’s image of all that is fair and joyous.
-Leïla he calls his daughter; with the words, “my starry night”, he
-embraces his beloved; “Leïla, O Leïla!” is the musical refrain of his
-songs. And what a night it is, which here in the desert, after all
-the burden and discomfort of the day, soothes every sense and feeling!
-In undreamt-of purity and brightness the stars shine forth
-from the dark dome of heaven: the light of the nearest is strong
-enough to cast slight shadows on the pale ground. With full chest
-one breathes the pure, fresh, cooling, and invigorating air; with
-delight one gazes from star to star, and as their light seems to
-come nearer and nearer, the soul breaks through the fetters which
-bind it to the dust and holds converse with other worlds. Not a
-sound, not a rustle, not even the chirping of a grasshopper interrupts
-the current of thought and feeling. The majesty, the sublimity
-of the desert is now for the first time appreciated; its
-unutterable peace steals into the traveller’s heart. But what proud
-self-consciousness also fills his breast: here, in the midst of the
-infinite solitude, so alone, apart from all human society and help,
-reliant on himself only, his confidence, courage, and hope are
-strengthened. Dream-pictures full of infinite charm pass before his
-wakeful eyes, and merge in ever fresh and fascinating combinations,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</span>
-and as the stars begin to twinkle and tremble, his thoughts become
-dreams, and his eyes close in sleep.</p>
-
-<p>After the refreshment which the desert night brings both to
-body and soul, the discomforts of the next day seem lighter, however
-much effort it may require to drink the water, which becomes
-more vile every hour. Perfect rest, unclouded comfort is only to be
-had at one of the desert wells. Always menaced by dearth of the
-most essential necessaries of life, every desert journey is a ceaseless
-anxiety, a restless hastening on; it is therefore entirely devoid of
-that ease and comfort with which one would prefer to travel.
-One day passes like another; each night, in favourable seasons at
-least, is like that which I have described. But in the oasis, the day
-becomes a holiday, the evening is a joyous festival, and the night
-brings perfect rest.</p>
-
-<p>The essential condition for the formation of an oasis is a basin-like
-or valley-like depression. Without a gushing spring, without
-at least an artificial well, rich vegetation is impossible, and water is
-found in the desert only on the lofty mountains or in the deepest
-hollows. As the sea of sand is in so many respects the counterpart
-of the ocean, so its oases are counterparts of islands, but they do not
-rise above the surface, they are sunk beneath it. The water may
-either rise in a visible spring, or it may be found at a slight depth
-below the surface. Its abundance and its quality determine the
-character of the oasis. In the minority the water is pure and cool,
-but in most cases it is salt, ferruginous, or sulphurous, and on that
-account probably very healthful. But it is by no means always
-drinkable or conducive to fertility. Perhaps there is hardly one oasis
-which produces fresh, green sward. And it is only in very favourable
-places that the water is evident at all; in most cases it collects drop
-by drop in clefts of the rock or in shafts which have been dug for
-it; at times at least it has to be artificially forced. Even where the
-water wells up copiously it would soon lose itself in the sand, if it
-were not carefully collected and distributed. At the same time it
-always evokes a refreshing life, doubly welcome amid such sterility.</p>
-
-<p>Around the spring, long before men appeared to take possession,
-a company of green plants had effected settlement. Who can tell<span class="pagenum" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</span>
-how they got there? Perhaps the sand-storm sowed the seeds,
-which first germinated by the well, and grew into plants, with
-leaves, flowers, and another generation of seeds which were scattered
-through whole valleys. It is certain, at least, that they were not
-planted by men, for the mimosas which form the greater part of the
-little colony occur also in springless hollows, where one sees them
-sometimes singly, sometimes forming a small thicket of ten or
-twenty. They alone are able to keep life awake in the desert;
-they put forth green leaves, they blossom and send forth fragrance&mdash;how
-fresh and balmy! In their pleasant shade the gazelle rests;
-from their tops resound the songs of the few feathered songsters of
-the desert. The sappy leaves, seen amid the stiff masses of limestone,
-the cones of black granite, and the dazzling sand, do the eyes
-good like a meadow in May; their flowers as well as their shade
-refresh the soul.</p>
-
-<p>In the larger, more copiously watered oases, men have planted
-palms, which lend a fresh charm to the settlement. The palm is here
-all in all: it is the queen of trees, the giver of fruit which sustains
-man and binds him to his little spot of earth, the tree around which
-saga and song are twined, the tree of life. What would an oasis be
-without palms? A tent without a roof, a house without inmate, a
-well without water, a poem without words, a song without tune, a
-picture without colour. The palm’s fruits feed the nomad herdsman
-and the settler alike, they become wheat or barley in his hand, they
-satisfy even the tax-gatherer of his lord and master. Its stems, its
-crown, its narrow leaves supply him with shelter and utensils, mats,
-baskets, and sacks, ropes and cords. In the sandy desert one first
-appreciates its full worth and importance, it becomes the visible
-emblem of Arabian poetry, which rises like it from frequently
-barren ground, which grows strong and fades not, which raises
-itself on high, and there only bears sweet fruit.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f56">
-<a href="images/fig56big.jpg">
-<img src="images/fig56.jpg" alt="" />
-</a>
-<p class="caption">Fig. 52.&mdash;An Oasis in the Desert of Sahara.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Mimosas and palms are the characteristic trees of all oases, and
-are never absent from those which have so many springs or wells
-that gardens and fields become possible. Here they are restricted,
-like outposts against the invading sand, to the outer fringe of the
-desert island, while the interior is adorned with more exacting plants
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</span>which require more water. Thus around the springs or wells there
-are often charming gardens in which grow almost all the fruit-bearing
-plants of North Africa. Here the vine clambers, the orange
-glows amid its dark foliage, the pomegranate opens its rosy mouth,
-the banana expands its fan-shaped leaf clusters, the melons straggle
-among the beds of vegetables, prickly-pears and olives, perhaps
-even figs, apricots, and almonds, complete the picture of fruitfulness.
-At a greater distance from the centre lie the fields, bearing at least
-Kaffir-millet, and, in favourable conditions, wheat, or even rice.</p>
-
-<p>In oases so rich man finds a permanent home, while in those
-which are poorer he is but a sojourner, or a more or less periodic
-guest. The village or small township of a large oasis is essentially
-like that of the nearest cultivated country; like it it has its mosques,
-its bazaars, its coffee-houses; but the inhabitants are children of a
-different spirit from that which marks the peasants or townsfolk
-in the Nile valley or along the coast. Although usually of diverse
-race among themselves they all exhibit the same customs and habits.
-The desert has shaped and fashioned them. Their slender build,
-sharply-cut features, and keen eyes, gleaming from under bushy
-brows, mark them at once as sons of the desert; but their habits
-and customs are even more characteristic. They are unexacting
-and readily contented, energetic and full of resource, hospitable
-and open-hearted, honourable and loyal, but proud, irritable, and
-passionate, inclined to robbery and acts of violence, like the
-Bedouins, though not their equals either in good or evil. A caravan
-entering their settlement is a welcome sight, but they expect
-the traveller to pay them toll.</p>
-
-<p>Very different from such oases are those valleys in which a much-desired
-well is only to be found at times. The Arabian nomads are
-well pleased if the supply of drinking-water for themselves and their
-herds is sufficient for a few months or even weeks; and the caravan,
-which rests in such a place, may be content if its demands are
-satisfied within a few days. The well is usually a deep shaft,
-from whose walls the water oozes rather than trickles. A few tom-palms
-rise among the sparse mimosas and saltworts which surround
-the well; a few stems of grass break through the hard ground.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</span></p>
-
-<p>Unutterably poor are these nomad herdsmen, who pitch their
-tents here as long as their small flocks of goats can find anything
-to eat. Their struggle for existence is a continuous succession of
-toil, and want, and misery. Their tent is of the simplest; a long
-dark web of cloth, made of goats’ hair, is laid across a simple framework,
-and its ends pinned to the ground; a piece of the same stuff
-forms the back-wall, and a mat of palm-leaves forms the door in
-front. The web is the wife’s self-made dowry, the materials for
-which she gathered, spun, and wove from her eighth to her sixteenth
-year. A few mats which serve as beds, a block of granite and a
-grindstone for pounding the grain got in barter, a flat plate of
-clay to roast the cakes, two large jars, some leather sacks and skins,
-an axe and several lances, form the total furnishings. A herd of
-twenty goats is counted a rich possession for a family. But these
-people are as brave as they are poor, as lovable as they are
-well-built, as good-natured as they are beautiful, as generous as
-they are frugal, as hospitable as they are honourable, as chaste
-as they are devout. Ancient pictures rise in the mind of the
-Occidental who meets with these folk for the first time; he sees
-biblical characters face to face, and hears them speak in a manner
-with which he has been familiar from his childhood. Thousands of
-years have been to these nomads of the desert as one day; to-day
-they think, and speak, and act as did the patriarchs of old. The
-very greeting which Abraham uttered meets the stranger’s ear;
-the very words which Rebecca spoke to Abraham’s servant were
-addressed to me, when, tortured with thirst, I sprang from my
-camel at the well of Bahiuda, and begged a beautiful brown damsel
-for a drink of fresh water. There she stood before me, the
-Rebecca of thousands of years ago, alive and in unfading youth,
-another and yet the same.</p>
-
-<p>On the arrival of the caravan the whole population of the
-temporary settlement assembles. The chief steps forward from
-their midst, and utters the greeting of peace; all the rest bid the
-strangers welcome. Then they offer the most precious of gifts,
-fresh water; it is all that they have to give, and it is given with
-dignified friendliness, ungrudgingly, yet without urgency. Eagerly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</span>
-the travellers drink in long refreshing draughts; the camels also
-press in riotously upon the watering-place, although they might
-know from experience that they must first be unloaded, tethered,
-and turned on the grass before they are allowed to quench an
-unbroken thirst of four or six days. Even at the well not a drop
-is wasted, therefore the camels first get any water that remains in
-the skins, and it is not till these are filled up again that the beasts
-get a fresh draught, and that with more respect to the existing
-supplies than their actual needs. Only at the copious wells can one
-satisfy their apparently unbounded desires, and see, not without
-amusement, how they swallow without ever looking up, and then
-hasten from the well to the not less eagerly desired pasture, forced
-by their hobbles to grotesque and clumsy movements, which make
-their stomachs rumble like half-filled casks.</p>
-
-<p>And now begins a festival both for travellers and settlers. The
-former find fresh water, perhaps even milk and meat, to increase
-the delight of the longed-for resting-time; the latter gladly welcome
-any break in their life, which, in good seasons, is very monotonous.
-One of the camel-drivers finds in the nearest tent the favourite
-instrument of those who live in the desert, the <i>tambura</i> or five-stringed
-zither, and he knows right well how to use it in accompaniment
-to his simple song. The music allures the daughters of
-the camp, and slim, beautiful women and girls press inquisitively
-around the strangers, fastening their dark eyes on them and
-their possessions, inquiring curiously about this and that. Steel
-thy heart, stranger; else these eyes may set it on fire. They
-are more beautiful than those of the gazelle, the lips beneath
-put corals to shame, and the dazzling teeth excel any pearls which
-thou couldst give these daughters of the desert. And soon all
-yields to music and to song. Around the zither-player groups
-arrange themselves for the dance; hands both hard and soft beat
-time to the tune, the words, and the regular swaying movements.
-New forms come and those we have become familiar with disappear;
-there is a constantly changing bustle and crowd around the
-strangers, who are wise if they regard all with the same innocence
-and simplicity which their hosts display. All the discomforts of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</span>
-the journey are forgotten, and all longings are satisfied, for water
-flows abundantly and takes the place of all that one might desire in
-other places or at other seasons.</p>
-
-<p>Such a rest revives body and soul. Strengthened and encouraged
-the caravan goes on its way, and if the days bring nothing
-worse than scorching, thirst, and fatigue, a second, and a third well
-is safely reached, and finally the goal of the journey&mdash;the first
-township on the other side of the desert. But the desert&mdash;the sea
-of sand&mdash;is like the all-embracing ocean also in that it is fickle.
-For here too there are raging storms, which wreck its ships
-and raise destruction-bringing billows. When the north wind,
-which blows continuously for months, comes into conflict with
-currents from the south, or yields them the mastery, the traveller
-suddenly sees the sand become alive, rising in huge pillars as thick
-as they are high, which whirl more or less rapidly over the plain.
-The sun’s rays sometimes lend them the ruddy gleam of flames, at
-another time they seem almost colourless, yet again, portentously
-dark, the furious storm weakens them and strengthens them, splits
-them and unites them, sometimes merging two or more into one
-huge sand-spout which reaches to the clouds. Well might the
-Occidental exclaim at the sublimity of the spectacle, did not the
-anxious looks and words of his escort make him dumb. Woe to the
-caravan which is overtaken by one of these raging whirlwinds,
-it will be good fortune if man and beast escape alive. And even if
-the inexorable messenger of fate pass over the party without doing
-harm, danger is by no means over, for behind the sand-spouts
-usually comes the Simoom or poisonous storm.</p>
-
-<p>This ever-dreaded wind, which blows as the <i>Chamasin</i> through
-Egypt, as the Sirocco towards Italy, as the <i>Föhn</i> through the Alps,
-as the <i>Tauwind</i> in North Europe, does not always rise into a
-storm; not unfrequently it is hardly noticeable, and yet it makes
-many a man’s heart tremble. Of course much that is fabulous is
-told of it, but this much is true, that it is in certain conditions
-extremely dangerous to the caravan, and that it is responsible for
-the bleached skeletons of camels and the half-buried, half-mummified,
-corpses of men that one sees by the wayside. It is not its<span class="pagenum" id="Page_349">[Pg 349]</span>
-strength, but its character, its electric potential, which brings
-suffering and destruction to man and beast wandering on the sandy
-sea.</p>
-
-<p>The natives and the observant can foretell the coming of the sand-storm
-at least one day, often several days, ahead. Unfailing symptoms
-tell of its approach. The air becomes sultry and oppressive; a
-light, grayish or reddish vapour obscures the sky; and there is not
-a breath of wind. All living creatures suffer visibly under the
-gradually increasing sultriness; men grumble and groan; the wild
-animals are shyer than usual; the camels become restless and cross,
-jostling one another, jibbing stubbornly, even lying down on the
-ground. The sun sets without any colour; no red-glow fringes the
-evening sky; every light is veiled in a vaporous shroud. Night
-brings neither coolness nor refreshment, rather an aggravation of
-the sultriness, the lassitude, the discomfort; in spite of all weariness
-one cannot sleep. If men and beasts are still able to move, no
-rest is taken, but they hurry on with the most anxious haste as
-long as the leader can see any of the heavenly bodies. But the
-vapour becomes a dry fog, obscuring one constellation after another,
-hiding moon and sun, though in the most favourable conditions
-these may be visible, about half their normal size, pale in colour
-and of ill-defined contour.</p>
-
-<p>Sometimes it is at midnight that the wind begins to raise its
-wings; more commonly about noon. Without a watch no one could
-tell the time, for the fog has become so thick that the sun is completely
-hidden. A gloomy twilight covers the desert, and everything
-even within a short radius is hazy and indistinct. Gently, hardly
-perceptibly the air at length begins to move. It is not a breeze, but
-the merest breath. But this breath scorches, pierces like an icy
-wind into bone and marrow, producing dull headache, enervation,
-and uneasiness. The first breath is followed by a more perceptible
-gust, equally piercing and deadening. Several brief blasts rage
-howling across the plain.</p>
-
-<p>It is now high time to encamp. Even the camels know this,
-for no whip will make them take another step. Panic-stricken
-they sink down, stretch out their long necks in front of them, press<span class="pagenum" id="Page_350">[Pg 350]</span>
-them closely on the sand, and shut their eyes. Their drivers unload
-them as rapidly as possible, build the baggage into a barricade, and
-heap all the water-bags closely together, so as to present the least
-possible surface to the wind, and cover them with any available
-mats. This accomplished, they wrap themselves as closely as may
-be in their robes, moisten the part which surrounds the head, and
-take refuge behind the baggage. All this is done with the utmost
-despatch, for the sand-storm never leaves one long to wait.</p>
-
-<p>Following one another in more rapid succession, the blasts soon
-become continuous, and the storm rages. The wind roars and
-rumbles, pipes and howls in the firmament; the sand rushes and
-rages along the ground; there is creaking and crackling and crashing
-among the baggage as the planks of the boxes burst. The
-prevailing sultriness increases till the limit of endurance seems all
-but reached; all moisture leaves the sweat-covered body; the
-mucous membranes begin to crack and bleed; the parched tongue
-lies like a piece of lead in the mouth; the pulse quickens, the heart
-throbs convulsively; the skin begins to peel, and into the lacerations
-the raging storm bears fine sand, producing new tortures. The
-sons of the desert pray and groan, the stranger murmurs and
-complains.</p>
-
-<p>The severest raging of the sand-storm does not usually last long,
-it may be only for an hour, or for two or three, just like the analogous
-thunder-storm in the north. As it assuages the dust sinks, the air
-clears, perhaps a counter-breeze sets in from the north; the caravan
-rearranges itself and goes on its way. But if the Simoom last for
-half a day or for a whole day, then it may fare with the traveller
-as it did with an acquaintance of mine, the French traveller Thibaut,
-as he journeyed through the Northern Bahiuda desert. He found
-the last well dry, and with almost exhausted water-bags he was
-forced to push on towards the Nile, four days’ journey off. On him
-and his panic-stricken caravan, which had left every dispensable
-piece of baggage at the dry well, the deadly storm broke loose.
-The unfortunate company encamped, hoped for the end of the storm,
-but waited in vain, mourning, desponding, desperate. One of
-Thibaut’s servants sprang up maddened, howled down the storm,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_351">[Pg 351]</span>
-raged, and raved, and at last, utterly spent, fell prostrate on his
-master, gasped, and died. A second fell victim to sunstroke, and
-when the storm at last abated was found dead in his resting-place.
-A third lingered behind the rest after they had started again on
-their life-or-death race, and he also perished. Half of the camels
-were lost. With the remnant of his company Thibaut reached the
-Nile, but in two days his coal-black hair had become white as
-snow.</p>
-
-<p>To such storms are due the mummied corpses which one sees by
-the path of the caravan. The storm which killed them also buries
-them in the drifting sand; this removes all moisture so quickly
-that the body, instead of decaying, dries up into a mummy. Over
-them one wind casts a shroud of sand, which another strips away.
-Then the corpse is seen stretching its hand, its foot, or its face
-towards the traveller, and one of the drivers answers the petition of
-the dead, covers him again with sand, and goes on his way, saying,
-“Sleep, servant of God, sleep in peace.”</p>
-
-<p>To such storms are also due the dream-pictures of the Fata
-Morgana which arise in the minds of the survivors. As long as a
-man pursues his way with full, undiminished strength and with
-sound senses, the mirage appears to him merely as a remarkable
-natural phenomenon, and in no wise as Fata Morgana. During the
-hot season, especially about noon, but from nine in the morning
-until three o’clock, the “devil’s sea” is to be seen daily in the desert.
-A gray surface like a lake, or more accurately like a flooded district,
-is formed on every plantless flat at a certain distance in front of or
-around the traveller; it heaves and swells, glitters and shimmers,
-leaves all actually existing objects visible, but raises them apparently
-to the level of its uppermost stratum and reflects them down again.
-Camels or horses disappearing in the distance appear, like the angels
-in pictures, as if floating on clouds, and if one can distinguish their
-movements, it seems as if they were about to set down each limb on
-a cushion of vapour. The distance which limits the phenomenon
-remains always the same, as long as the observer does not change
-his angle of vision; and thus it varies for the rider and the pedestrian.
-The whole phenomenon depends on the well-known law, that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_352">[Pg 352]</span> a ray
-of light passing through a medium which is not homogeneous is refracted,
-and thus it is inevitable, since the lower strata of air become
-expanded by reflection of heat from the glowing sand. No Arab
-hides his face when he sees a mirage, as fanciful travellers assure
-their credulous readers; none puts any deep interpretation on the
-phrase which he likes to use&mdash;“the devil’s sea”. But when the
-anxiety, distress, enervation, and misery consequent on a sand-storm
-beset and weaken him, and the mirage appears, then it may become
-a Fata Morgana, for the abnormally excited imagination forms
-pictures which are in most perfect harmony with the most urgent
-desire of the moment&mdash;the desire for water and for rest. Even to
-me, who have observed the mirage hundreds of times, the Fata
-Morgana appeared once. It was after four-and-twenty hours of
-torturing thirst that I saw the devil’s sea sparkling and gleaming
-before me. I really thought I saw the sacred Nile and boats with
-full-bellied sails, palm-groves and woods, and country-houses. But
-where my abnormal senses perceived a flourishing palm-grove,
-my equally abnormal comrade saw sailing-boats, and where I
-fancied I recognized gardens, he saw not less imaginary woodland.
-And all the deceptive phantasms vanished as soon as we were
-refreshed with an unexpected draught of water; only the nebulous
-gray sea remained in sight.</p>
-
-<p>Perhaps every one who crosses a stretch of desert in the Nile-lands
-sees the devil’s sea; but there is a real and most living desert
-picture, a sight of which is not granted to all. On the extreme
-limit of vision, raised perhaps by the mirage and veiled in vapour,
-a number of riders appear; they are mounted on steeds swift as the
-wind, with limbs like those of deer; they approach rapidly, and
-urging to full gallop the steeds which till then they had restrained,
-they rush down upon the caravan. It always gave me pleasure to
-meet these haggard, picturesquely-clad men; they and their horses
-seemed to be so thoroughly harmonious with the desert. The
-Bedouin is indeed the true son of the desert, and his steed is his
-counterpart. He is stern and terrible as the desert day, gentle and
-friendly as the desert night. True to his pledged word, unswerving
-in obedience to the laws and customs of his race, dignified in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_353">[Pg 353]</span>
-bearing, lofty in discourse, unsurpassed in self-restraint and endurance,
-more sensitive than almost any other man to deeds of prowess,
-to glory and honour, and not less to the golden web of fancy into
-which his poetic genius weaves such wondrous pictures and twines
-such tender fragrant flowers; yet is he cunning and crafty towards
-his enemies, a bounden slave to his customs, unscrupulous in his
-demands, mean and paltry in his exactions, greedy in his pleasures,
-unrestrained in cruelty, terrible in revenge, to-day the noble host,
-to-morrow a threatening and shameless beggar, now a proud robber
-and again a pitiable thief. In short he is to the stranger as fickle
-and changeful as the desert itself. His horse has the same keen,
-fiery, expressive eyes, the same strength and agility in its thin,
-almost fragile limbs, the same endurance, the same frugality, the
-same nature as his master, for they grew up together under the
-same tent, they rest and dwell beneath the same roof. The animal<span class="pagenum" id="Page_354">[Pg 354]</span>
-is not the slave but the companion, the friend of its master, the
-playmate of his children. Proud, spirited, and even savage in the
-open desert, it is as quiet as a lamb in the tent; it seems altogether
-inseparable from its master.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f57">
-<img src="images/fig57.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 53.&mdash;Band of Mounted Bedouins.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>In all the deserts which are, in name at least, under the sway
-of the Khedive of Egypt, the Bedouins no longer fill the rôle which
-was theirs in earlier times, and still belongs to them in Arabia and in
-North-west Africa. For between them and the Egyptian government
-there is a strict treaty which binds them to allow caravans to
-pass through their haunts unmolested. Thus robberies in the desert
-are of the rarest occurrence, and an encounter with the Bedouins
-raises the less apprehension, since these children of the desert are
-usually the owners of the hired camels. At the same time the true
-lords of the waste still love to cling to the old customs and to retain
-a semblance of their dominion, so that it is prudent before setting
-out on a desert journey to claim safe-conduct from some recognized
-chief. With this in possession, an encounter took form somewhat
-as follows.</p>
-
-<p>One of the sunburnt horsemen sprang forward from the troop,
-and turned to the leader or head of our caravan.</p>
-
-<p>“Peace be with thee, O stranger!”</p>
-
-<p>“And with thee, O chief, be the grace of God, His mercy, and
-His compassion!”</p>
-
-<p>“Whither journey ye, sirs?”</p>
-
-<p>“To Belled-Aali, O Sheikh.”</p>
-
-<p>“Do ye journey under protection?”</p>
-
-<p>“We journey under the safe-conduct of his Excellency, the
-Khedive.”</p>
-
-<p>“And no other?”</p>
-
-<p>“Also Sheikh Soliman, Mohammed Cheir Allah, Ibn Sidi Aulad
-Aali, has granted us protection and peace.”</p>
-
-<p>“Then are ye welcome and blessed.”</p>
-
-<p>“The Giver of all blessings bless thee and thy father, O chief!”</p>
-
-<p>“Have ye need of ought? My men will supply it. In Wadi
-Ghitere are our tents, and ye are welcome there if ye seek rest.
-If not, may Allah grant a prosperous journey!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_355">[Pg 355]</span></p>
-
-<p>“He will be with us, for He is merciful.”</p>
-
-<p>“And the Guide on all good ways.”</p>
-
-<p>“Amen, O chief!”</p>
-
-<p>And the troop wheels off; rider and steed become one; the light
-hoofs seem scarce to touch the sand, the white burnooses flutter in
-the wind, and the poet’s words rise into memory&mdash;</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent0">“Bedouin, on thy steed, thou art a poem in thyself!”</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>Such are some of the fascinating pictures shown to the receptive
-eye. The more intimately one comes to know the desert, the more
-it grows upon one, alleviating and lessening all toil and discomfort.
-Yet the last hours of the journey are those of greatest joy. When
-the first palm-village of cultivated land appears in sight, when the
-silver line of the sacred river is once more visible, gladness fills
-the heart. Men and beasts hasten as if to prove that the glad
-reality is not an illusion which may vanish in the mist. But the
-goal becomes more and more distinct; it seems as if we had never
-seen fresher colours, we fancy that nowhere else can there be trees
-so green, water so cool. With a final effort the camels push on, far
-too slowly for their impatient riders. Friendly greetings reach our
-ears. The village on the Nile is reached at last. From all the huts
-throng men and women, the aged and the children. Inquisitively
-they crowd around the camp, men and women curiously questioning,
-youths and maidens eager for the dance. Tambura and tarabuka,
-the zither and drum of the country, invite to motion; and the
-dancing-girls gladden the eyes of strangers and countrymen alike.
-Even the creaking of the water-wheel on the river, formerly a thousand
-times cursed, seems musical to-day. The evening brings fresh
-joys. Comfortably couched on the cool and elastic divan, the
-foreigner pledges the native in palm-wine or merieza&mdash;the nectar of
-the land; while the sound of zither and drum, and the rhythmic
-hand-clapping of the dancing youths and maidens form a merry
-accompaniment to the dainty banquet. But at length the approaching
-night begins to press its claims. Tambura and tarabuka sink
-into silence and the dance comes to an end; one after another,
-refreshed and well-content, the travellers seek rest. At length only<span class="pagenum" id="Page_356">[Pg 356]</span>
-one is left, a son of Khahira, the mother of the world, whom sleep
-still refuses to bless. From beside the flickering camp-fire comes
-his simple, tremulous song&mdash;</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent0">Sweet night, dear night, thou mak’st me sad,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Longer thou seem’st and alway longer;</div>
-<div class="verse indent0">No peace from thee I ever had,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">With thee day’s pain grows ever stronger.</div>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent0">Oh, gentle night, how long, how long,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Since these poor eyes last saw her beauty!</div>
-<div class="verse indent0">Seeing aught else they do her wrong;</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">When will she come to claim their duty?</div>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent0">Oh, tender night, now hovering near,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Lighten Love’s load, and my undoing!</div>
-<div class="verse indent0">Bring Peace to me, Peace to my Dear,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Shelter my Sweet, and speed my wooing!</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>But this lover’s plaint also dies away, and the silence of the night is
-unbroken save by the murmurings of the wavelets on the sacred
-river.</p>
-
-
-<hr class="full x-ebookmaker-drop" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="c14">NUBIA AND THE NILE RAPIDS.<a id="FNanchor_2" href="#Footnote_2" class="fnanchor">[B]</a></h2>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_2" href="#FNanchor_2" class="label">[B]</a> In order to understand and appreciate this chapter the reader should bear
-in mind that the Nile is in flood from June to about the end of September, being
-at its highest in the latter month, and at its lowest in April. At low Nile the
-rapids present a very different appearance from what they do at high Nile.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-
-<p>Egypt and Nubia, though immediately adjacent, and closely
-connected by a river common to both, are essentially different
-countries. Through Egypt the sacred Nile flows with leisurely
-dignity, through Nubia it rushes in furious haste; over Egypt it
-distributes its blessings widely, in Nubia it is hemmed in by high
-rocky banks; in Egypt it triumphs over the desert, in Nubia the
-desert is supreme; Egypt is a garden which the river has formed
-after thousands of years of ceaseless labour, Nubia is a desert
-which it cannot conquer. Of course this desert has its oases like
-any other, but they are few and scarcely worth considering in comparison
-with the lands on both sides of the stream which remain
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_357">[Pg 357]</span>in unchangeable sterility and desolation. Throughout the greater
-part of the long winding valley which forms what we call Nubia,
-dark, gleaming masses of rock rise from the bed of the river or from
-its immediate vicinity, and over wide tracts prevent the growth of
-almost all vegetation. They have for their sole adornment the
-waves of golden yellow sand which are blown from the deserts on
-east and west, and gradually slide down the rocks into the river.
-The sun beats from the deep-blue and rarely cloudy sky; for
-many years together not a single shower refreshes the thirsty
-ground. In the deeply cut gorges the life-giving waves of the
-fertilizing stream contend in vain with the unimpressionable rocks,
-on which they hurl themselves roaring and foaming, blustering
-and thundering, as if enraged that their generosity is met with
-ingratitude and their beneficence with disdain. The field on which
-this battle is waged is the region of the rapids.</p>
-
-<p>Very few travellers who visit the lower valley of the Nile ever
-reach the rapids of its middle course. A few go beyond the so-called
-first cataract, scarcely one in a hundred passes the second.
-Wady Halfa, a village immediately below the second group of
-rapids, is the usual goal of travellers; only purposes of exploration,
-the passion for the chase, or some commercial enterprise, leads
-any one further south. For it is at Wady Haifa that the difficulties
-of a journey into the interior really begin, and it is therefore
-not surprising that the great majority turn the prow of the boat
-homewards at that village of palms. But no one who is young
-and vigorous, energetic, and not too luxuriously inclined, will ever
-regret if he pushes farther south. In the Nile valley, which is by
-no means rich in picturesqueness, the region of the rapids is quite
-unique. Grandeur and beauty, sombreness and gaiety, desolation
-and overflowing life mark the scenes that here follow one another
-in quick succession; but they are all desert pictures which this
-landscape presents, and one must forget conventional standards in
-order to appreciate them as they deserve. The man who is unable to
-appreciate the desert, to revel in its wealth of colour, to endure its
-scorching heat, and to find refreshment in its solemn night, would
-do well to avoid the desert of the Nile. But he who travels<span class="pagenum" id="Page_358">[Pg 358]</span>
-through the country of the rapids with open eye and receptive
-heart, who in his frail boat engages, wherever possible, in the
-struggle with the furiously foaming waves, will have his whole
-life enriched with precious memories. For never will the impressive
-spectacle that his eye has looked on fade from his mental
-vision, never will the sublime melody the stream has sung in his
-ear cease to echo in his soul. Such, at least, is my experience, and
-I have journeyed through the rocky valley of Nubia on land and
-on water, up the river and down, contending with the waves, ay,
-and with hunger and want, and looking down on the rapids from
-the tops of high cliffs as well as from the camel’s back.</p>
-
-<p>It is customary to speak of three cataracts. Each consists of a
-series of rapids, which, for about a mile, make navigation in the
-highest degree difficult and dangerous. At the first cataract there
-is properly but one rapid; taking the second and third together
-there are about thirty which the Nubian boatmen call by special
-names. There are no waterfalls which make navigation of any
-kind impossible, not at least on the regular route where, in addition
-to passing vessels, there ply boats specially built and equipped for
-the rapids.<a id="FNanchor_77" href="#Footnote_77" class="fnanchor">[76]</a></p>
-
-<p>When the traveller in his progress up the sacred river has
-traversed the north-easterly tract where the river is hemmed in
-between the Rocks of the Chain (<i>Jebel Silsileh</i>), the scenery
-changes abruptly. Behind him lies Egypt, in other words the low-lying
-valley, broadening seawards into a boundless plain; before
-him rises the rocky threshold of Nubia. The contrast is most
-striking. Monotony is replaced by diversity. It is indeed true
-that even the scenery of Egypt presents many a picture which
-is stimulating to the eye and refreshing to the soul; it is true
-that its beauty is enhanced, especially in the morning and evening
-hours, by the wondrous brilliance of southern light; but taken
-as a whole it seems monotonous, for everywhere the prospect is
-alike, whether the eye rests on rocks of sandstone and limestone
-by the margin of the valley, or takes a wider survey over the
-river and the fields. One and the same picture, with little variety,
-is repeated a hundred times: hills and fruitful plains, river-banks<span class="pagenum" id="Page_359">[Pg 359]</span>
-and islands, thickets of mimosa, groves of palms and sycamores,
-towns and villages, everywhere bear essentially the same stamp.
-But at the rock-masses of the first cataract, which form the last
-barrier overcome by the stream as it presses towards the sea,
-Egypt really ends and Nubia begins. No longer does the boat
-glide smoothly on a surface majestically calm; it has to fight its
-way among low masses of rock, and among rocky cones that rear
-themselves above the waves.</p>
-
-<p>Nearing the first cataract, we see, high on a precipitous headland
-on the left bank, a wretched and yet impressive piece of
-Arabic architecture, the sepulchre of Sheikh Musas, the patron
-saint of the first rapids. Further on lies the island of Elephantine,
-rich in palms, and immediately beyond is Assuan. The way is
-hemmed in by masses of rock, from whose surface the waves,
-storming for thousands of years, have not succeeded in obliterating
-hieroglyphics graven in the time of the Pharaohs. These rocks
-compel the boat to follow a tortuous course, till at length it finds a
-safe landing-place in a calm creek, which is, however, so near the
-rapids that it is resonant with their raging.</p>
-
-<p>It is venerable ground on which we stand. Through the
-inscriptions in the sacred characters of the ancient Egyptian people,
-past ages converse with us in intelligible speech. “Ab”, or ivory-store,
-was the name of the town Elephantine on the island of
-that name, and the island remains though even the ruins of the
-town have almost completely disappeared: “Sun” or Syene was
-the township on the right bank where the modern Assuan stands.
-Elephantine was the most southerly harbour of the old Egyptians
-and the capital of the southern Nile district; it was the ancient
-depot for produce from the interior, especially for ivory, highly
-prized then as now. “Sun” was probably only a village of working
-people, but as such by no means of less importance than Elephantine.
-For near here, from the earliest times, the “Mat” or “Ethiopian
-stone” of Herodotus was quarried, and was brought to the
-river-banks to be loaded on the boats, which bore it to its destination.
-It was from this place that the valuable stone derived the name of
-Syenite, which it still bears.<a id="FNanchor_78" href="#Footnote_78" class="fnanchor">[77]</a> Inscriptions which are found on monuments<span class="pagenum" id="Page_360">[Pg 360]</span>
-dating from the oldest dynasties of Egyptian kings, that is
-to say from two or three thousand years before the Christian era,
-make repeated mention of “Sun”, and countless other hieroglyphics
-in the adjacent quarries testify to the importance of this industrial
-village. These quarries extend over many square miles of the desert
-to the east of the cataract. From them were hewn those immense
-blocks which form the columns, obelisks, cornices, and lintels of
-the temples, and fill us with wonder and admiration. With them,
-too, the ancients roofed in the sepulchral chambers of the pyramids,
-confident that they would bear the stupendous burden piled above
-them. “All around us here”, says my learned friend Dümichen,
-“we see how human hands laboured to loosen the valuable stone
-from the wall of rock, and to immortalize this or that event in
-sculpture or inscription. Everywhere the rock has become a
-memorial of the past, and numerous inscriptions, often on the
-highest peaks of the mountains, proclaim the glory of the divine
-trinity worshipped by the first province of Upper Egypt&mdash;the
-Cataract-god Chnum-Ra, and his two consorts Sati and Anuke&mdash;or
-celebrate the exploits of Egyptian kings and high officers of state.
-Some of these go back to the oldest historic times, and yet how
-young they seem in comparison with the work, which through
-innumerable ages the Egyptian Sun-god Ra has wrought upon the
-stone. For the rocks, all around which are as yet untouched by
-human hand, present to us a surface covered with a dark crust
-gleaming like enamel; while the cut surfaces of the syenite (to
-many of which we may certainly ascribe an age of four thousand
-years) still show, like the blocks in the quarries, the characteristic
-red of the granite in its pristine vividness&mdash;they are still too
-young to show the impress of Time’s hand.”</p>
-
-<p>From any of the higher peaks on the banks one can get a survey
-of a part of the cataract. Two deserts meet at the Nile, and join
-hands across it by means of hundreds of small rocky islands. Every
-island splits the stream, forcing it into a narrower channel, through
-which, however, it rushes all the more violently, ceaselessly
-dashing against the ruins of the rocky barrier through which it
-burst hundreds of thousands of years ago. The river seems to be<span class="pagenum" id="Page_361">[Pg 361]</span>
-intent on sweeping them away to utter destruction, and to be
-enraged at finding its opponents still invincible. The thunder of its
-waters resounds in the ears of the spectator above, and seems to
-him a fit accompaniment to the magnificent scene beneath him.
-Restless as the ever-flowing waves, the eye travels over the chaos of
-rocks; it embraces hundreds of single pictures in one glance, and
-then combines these into one sublime, harmonious whole, the
-stiff masses of gleaming rock contrasting sharply with the white
-foam of the hissing water, the golden-yellow deserts that bound
-them on either side, and the dark, cloudless sky overhead. The
-upper region of the rapids is especially charming. A chain of
-black rocks, the natural boundary-wall between Egypt and Nubia,
-stretches obliquely across the river, and sweeps out on both right
-and left bank in a wide curve, thus forming before the eye of the
-spectator a great basin almost completely surrounded by rocky
-ramparts. These walls consist in part of continuous masses, but in
-part also of loose blocks&mdash;round, oval, and angular&mdash;lying one upon
-the other as though piled up by the hand of some giant. Here and
-there portions of this wonderful rampart project and again recede;
-here and there they rise like islands from the bed of the ancient
-lake which they encircled before the mighty stream broke its way
-through.</p>
-
-<p>In the midst of these prehistoric ruins lies the green, palm-clad
-island of Philæ with its stately temple. I know of no more impressive
-picture than this. Surrounded by dark, rugged rocks,
-encompassed by the ceaseless roar of the waves as they beat on its
-foundations, bedecked with fruitful palms and fragrant mimosas,
-the temple stands&mdash;a striking emblem of inner peace amid raging
-strife. The river shouts its mighty battle-song; the palms wave
-back an answer of peace. A worthier place could scarcely be
-found for the worship of the great god to whom it was dedicated.
-Amid such solitude, and in such an environment, the spirit of the
-youths whom the wise priests taught must surely have found both
-nurture and life, must surely have turned to what is high and
-holy, have recognized the kernel within the sensory symbolism of
-their cult, and have beheld the veiled image of Sais.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_362">[Pg 362]</span></p>
-
-<p>In the sacred trinity&mdash;Isis, Osiris, and Horus&mdash;to whom the
-temple of Philæ was dedicated, Isis stood supreme. “Isis, the great
-goddess, the queen of heaven, sovereign of all gods and goddesses,
-who with her son Horus and her brother Osiris is worshipped in
-every city; the exalted, divine mother, the spouse of Osiris, she is
-the queen of Philæ.” Such is the tenor of the inscriptions in the
-temple itself. But records in all the different kinds of writing that
-were in use at various epochs of Egyptian history tell also of the
-changes which have befallen the temple in the course of ages, down
-to the time when the Christian priests, who had succeeded the
-servants of Isis, were driven from the sanctuary by hordes of
-immigrant Arabs.</p>
-
-<p>To-day the greater part of Philæ is in ruins. Instead of the
-solemn chant of the priests, one hears only the simple song of the
-desert-lark; but the waves of the stream still roar in their strength
-as they did thousands of years ago. The island is desolate, but the
-peace of the temple has remained to it. And, in spite of all changes,
-island and temple are still the jewel of the first cataract.<a id="FNanchor_79" href="#Footnote_79" class="fnanchor">[78]</a></p>
-
-<p>For some distance upwards from this point the Nile is free from
-rocks, yet quite incapable of bestowing its blessing upon the shore.
-Laboriously man endeavours to force from the stream what is elsewhere
-so lavishly bestowed. Wheel after wheel creaks as it raises
-the life-giving water to the narrow fringe of cultivation along the
-banks. But in most places the desert and the rocks press so closely
-on the river that no space is left for field or grove of palms. For long
-stretches one sees nothing but stunted weeds, between which the
-yellow drift-sand rolls ceaselessly down, as though it would help
-the desert even here to a victory over the sacred giver of fruitful
-land.</p>
-
-<p>To the south of Wady Halfa, the most southern village of the
-tract above mentioned, the stream again rages among impeding
-rocky islands. Countless masses of stone, blocks and cones of rock,
-compel the river to divide its forces; the eye is bewildered by a
-chaos of rock and water, the like of which is to be seen nowhere else.
-When the water is high, the roar of the waves whirling and surging
-between the rocks drowns the human voice; the river rumbles and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_363">[Pg 363]</span>
-thunders, rages and blusters, dashes and hisses, so that the very
-rocks appear to quake.</p>
-
-<p>Beyond the rapids and whirlpools, which at this point are almost
-continuous, the full-swollen Nile lies like a broad, calm lake; but
-this pleasant picture, enhanced by the presence of several green
-islands, is circumscribed by narrow limits. For, further up, the bed
-of the stream is again divided by countless rocky islands, which
-mark the beginning of the “Batte el Hadjar”, or “rocky valley” of
-the boatmen, in which lie no less than ten considerable rapids. It
-is by far the dreariest region in Nubia, or in the whole Nile valley.
-From the river there is usually nothing to be seen but sky and
-water, rock and sand. The rocks rise steeply, sometimes almost
-vertically, on either bank, and between them and the countless
-islands the Nile is so cooped up that during its flood-time it reaches
-a height of 40 to 50 feet above its lowest level.</p>
-
-<p>The rocky banks of the stream are as smooth as if they had
-been polished; they gleam and glow by day as if they had just
-left the earth’s fiery interior. The beneficent stream rushes over
-them, leaving scarcely a trace behind; indeed, only in a very few
-places can it possibly exercise its prerogative of blessing. Here
-and there, in receding creeks, or behind projecting bastions, which
-divert the violent current, the river deposits its fertile mud and may
-carry a few seeds to a resting-place. Then, even in this wilderness,
-there is germination and growth, foliage and flowers. On all
-the islands in whose rocky clefts mud has been caught and kept,
-and in all the inlets which the current does not sweep, there is a
-growth of willows and scattered mimosas, evidences of life in the
-realm of death. When a willow has found a foothold it sends out
-root after root, shoot after shoot, and soon the naked ground is
-clothed in enlivening green. While the water is low the willows
-gradually spread; when the flood comes the waves roll over both
-island and willow-beds. Higher and higher rises the stream, fiercer
-and stronger press the waves; the willows bow before them, but
-keep firm hold of the rocks. For months the flood buries them,
-all but a few twigs which project above the boiling, hissing waves;
-yet the roots hold fast, and the shrubs sprout with renewed vigour<span class="pagenum" id="Page_364">[Pg 364]</span>
-as soon as the flood subsides. In such pleasant spots, amid the dreary
-waste, signs of animal life are to be seen, as in some other parts of
-the Nile valley. Here and there among the willows a pair of Nile-geese
-have settled, lively and clamorous; on the rock above, the pretty
-water-wagtail has made its home; from the shore cliffs sounds the
-song of the blue rock-thrush or the black wheatear; on the blossoming
-mimosas a gorgeous sun-bird&mdash;the first tropical bird one
-meets&mdash;is busily at work; and now and then one may come upon
-a flock of pretty little rock-partridges. These, and a few others,
-form the sparse fauna of the rocky valley, but during the migrating
-season they are often joined by large flocks of birds, who make
-the course of the stream their highway to the interior, and rest
-here and there on the journey. But they hasten on again at their
-utmost speed, since the rocky valley is incapable of supporting
-them even for a few days; indeed, it is often difficult to understand
-where they find their daily bread.</p>
-
-<p>But these are not the only settlers in this wilderness of waters.
-Even men are able to find a home here. At intervals of a mile
-or more one comes upon a miserable straw hut, in which a Nubian
-and his family eke out a meagre subsistence. A small creek between
-the precipices on the shore filled with fertile mud, or it may be
-only a deposit of mud upon the rocks themselves, forms the paltry
-farm which he cultivates. The owner of a creek is rich compared
-with his poor neighbour who can call himself master only
-of a mere mud-bed. At the risk of his life the latter swims
-to spots which are inaccessible on foot, and sows some beans on
-the mud-plot from which the falling stream has just receded.
-Some days later, when the river has sunk still lower, he repeats
-his visit and his sowing operations, and so proceeds on the parts
-of the mud-bank successively uncovered as long as the river continues
-to fall. Thus at such places one sees fields of beans at all
-stages of growth, becoming broader as the water sinks; and the
-frugal husbandman is engaged at once with sowing and reaping.
-In the most favourable circumstances a deeply receding inlet, filled
-with Nile mud, makes it possible for the farmer to erect a
-water-wheel and to irrigate a field a few acres in extent. The
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_366">[Pg 366]</span>fortunate possessor is then able to keep a cow, and to live at least
-in tolerable comfort, although he is still so poor that even the
-Egyptian government does not venture to burden him with taxes.
-But such places are rare oases in this forbidding waste. The boatman,
-fighting his way up-stream, welcomes every bush; he greets
-a palm-tree with manifest joy, a bean-field, perhaps hoped for all
-day long, with exultation, a water-wheel with thanks to the All-merciful.
-For it is not merely that his bold spirit has learned to
-know fear in this valley of rocks, but also because he knows well
-that, should his supply of provisions fail, bitter want would befall
-him, and starvation stare him in the face. Down-stream the
-well-steered boat speeds rapidly through this land of desolation
-and poverty; but sailing up-stream it often lies, as if spell-bound,
-for hours, or even days, at a time, waiting for a favourable wind,
-sheltered by a rock from the force of a rapid. The boatman, who
-becomes “sea-sick” with the incessant rocking of his craft, may
-roam or swim for miles without coming upon men or fields.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f58">
-<a href="images/fig58big.jpg">
-<img src="images/fig58.jpg" alt="" />
-</a>
-<p class="caption">Fig. 54.&mdash;An Egyptian <i>Sakieh</i> or Water-wheel.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>At its southern limit the rocky valley passes almost abruptly
-into the fertile country of middle Nubia. Before the traveller lies
-a narrow basin shut in by two deserts, and with several large
-islands in its midst. The basin is filled with mud, and of this the
-islands are composed. Though we do not yet find all the wealth
-of tropical life, there are hints of it in the freshness and vigour of
-both fauna and flora. Almost continuous palm-groves, in which
-ripen the most delicious dates in the world, border this pleasant
-oasis in which the labours of the husbandman are rewarded by rich
-harvests. Christ-thorns and various mimosas, not hitherto seen, give
-evidence that we have crossed the equator. Besides the sun-bird
-already mentioned, there are now other birds characteristic of the
-interior of Africa. In the first dhurra-field which one carefully
-observes, the eyes are gladdened by a sight of the fiery weaver-bird,
-as beautiful as it is agile, which has its home among the stems, and
-from time to time appears like a flash of fire on the top of an ear,
-uttering from this perch its simple whirring and buzzing song, and
-inciting others of its kind to a like display. In the holes and
-crevices of the mud-huts other members of the family, especially<span class="pagenum" id="Page_367">[Pg 367]</span>
-steel-finches and blood-finches, have established themselves; in the
-gardens round the houses the cape-pigeons have settled; on the
-sand-banks in the stream have been hollowed out the shallow
-mud-nests of the shear-waters or skimmers&mdash;night-terns, of peculiar
-habit, who do not begin to seek their prey until the twilight, and
-fish, not by diving, but by skimming over the waves and rapidly
-ploughing the water with their bills, thus catching small creatures
-which swim on or near the surface.</p>
-
-<p>But this cheerful region has narrow limits. Below the ruined
-temple of Barkal the desolate and barren hills again encroach on
-the river, excluding fertile land and steppe alike. The last group
-of rapids now lies before the traveller who is making his way
-up-stream. The region of the third group of cataracts is not so
-unutterably poor as the rocky valley. Well-tilled, though narrow,
-strips of land lie on either bank, and there are fertile islands in
-mid-stream; thus there is not that look of hopeless poverty which
-is characteristic of the region already traversed. The masses of rock
-on the banks are more broken up than those in the rocky valley, and
-there are many of the so-called “stone-seas”, hillocks and walls of
-wildly jumbled blocks and rolled stones, such as mighty streams
-leave behind when they dig their bed deeper in the valley. On each
-side, usually on the top of the cliff next the stream, there are great
-blocks of more than a hundred cubic yards in bulk, which rest so
-loosely on their substratum that they oscillate in violent wind, and
-could be hurled down by a few men with levers. In many places
-these stone-seas present a most extraordinary appearance. It seems
-just as if giants had for a whim amused themselves by erecting
-cones and pyramids, mounds and ramparts to form a weirdly-disordered
-parapet on the river’s rocky embankment. But it is not so
-much to this strange natural architecture as to ancient works of
-man’s own hand, that the third group of rapids owes its characteristic
-appearance. On all suitable rock-projections, and especially
-on the larger islands, rise buildings with inclosing walls, towers,
-and jagged battlements, such as are not seen elsewhere in the Nile
-valley. These are fortifications of ancient days, castles of the river-chiefs,
-erected for protection and defiance, to secure life and property<span class="pagenum" id="Page_368">[Pg 368]</span>
-against the invasions of hostile neighbouring tribes. The ramparts
-and battlements are built of unhewn stones, rudely piled one upon
-the other, usually cemented only with Nile mud; the thick walls of
-the superstructure, roofed with sun-dried mud-tiles, have for the
-most part fallen or are still falling. These fortresses impress
-one not so much by their architecture as by the boldness of their
-position. A naked, deep-black, glistening rock rises from the midst
-of the rushing waters, and bears on its summit one of these forts.
-The waves beat wildly around its base, but it stands absolutely unshaken
-by any flood, and towers aloft, an impregnable refuge. On
-the down-stream side, in the shelter of the rock, the life-giving
-stream has added beauty to sublimity. For in the course of ages
-the mud accumulated in the still-water, and an island gradually
-rose above the flood. On this fertile island man planted palms and
-laid out fields; and thus, among the rocks there arose a pleasing
-scene of security and comfort, all the more impressive in its contrast
-to the wilderness of restless water and barren rock.</p>
-
-<p>At the southern boundary of the third group of rapids begin the
-steppes and forests of tropical Africa, in which rocks are found only
-here and there on the banks of the main stream and its great tributaries.
-For over 450 miles the Bahr-el-Abiad and Bahr-el-Azrek, the
-White and the Blue Nile, flow through a fruitful and almost flat
-country; thereafter there are again some rapids. But they do not
-belong to the picture whose chief outlines I have been endeavouring
-to sketch: Nubia alone is the land of the Nile cataracts.</p>
-
-<p>While it is difficult to tell to what degree the Nubian has been
-influenced by his surroundings, or made by them the manner of
-man he is, this at least may be safely said, that he is as markedly
-differentiated from his neighbour, the modern Egyptian, as his
-home is different from the land of Egypt. The truth is, they have
-nothing in common, neither race nor speech, neither customs nor
-habits, scarcely even religion, although both to-day repeat the creed,
-“There is but one God, and Mohammed is His prophet”.</p>
-
-<p>The modern Egyptians are of mixed blood, being descended from
-the ancient Egyptians and the immigrant Arabic hordes from
-Yemen and Hedjaz, who amalgamated with the earlier inhabitants<span class="pagenum" id="Page_369">[Pg 369]</span>
-of the lower Nile valley. The Nubians are descendants of the
-“wild Blemyes”, with whom the Pharaohs of the ancient, middle,
-and more recent dynasties, as well as the Egyptian governors of the
-Ptolemies, contended ceaselessly, and by no means always successfully.
-The former use the language in which the “Revelations” of
-Mohammed are recorded, the latter use an old Ethiopian speech
-now split up into several dialects; the former employ an ancient
-mode of writing, the latter never have had any which has taken
-organic root in their own language. The former still preserve the
-seriousness at once characteristic of the old Egyptians, and of the
-sons of the desert from whom they sprang. Like all Orientals they
-give themselves, throughout their whole life, deep anxiety about
-the world to come, and order their customs and habits according to
-their fantastic notions of it. The Nubians, on the other hand, have
-preserved the cheerful joyousness of the Ethiopians, living like
-children for the present, taking what is pleasant without thanks
-and what is painful with loud complainings, and under the influence
-of the moment readily forgetting both. The yoke of foreign
-masters rests heavily on both alike; the Egyptian bears it with
-groaning and grumbling, the Nubian with equanimity and without
-resistance; the former is a sullen slave, the latter a willing servant.
-Every Egyptian fancies himself high above the Nubian, regards
-himself as nobler in race, speech, and customs; boasts of his culture,
-though that is restricted to but a few of the people, and
-seeks to oppress the dark-skinned race as completely as he himself
-is oppressed. The Nubian recognizes the general physical superiority
-of the Egyptian, and thoroughly acknowledges the intellectual
-culture of the prominent members of the neighbour-people,
-but he seems to be scarcely conscious of his own deficiency in
-culture, and is even inclined, in his turn, to enslave the less strong
-or less gifted people of the interior. Yet even with the purchased
-negro he is on a brotherly footing, and seems to have patiently
-submitted to his burdensome fate, after having tried in vain to
-contend successfully against a superior force. In every fibre of his
-being he is still a child of nature, while the Egyptian seems the
-sad type of a decayed and still decadent people. The Nubian, in the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_370">[Pg 370]</span>
-most barren country in the world, still retains a measure of freedom;
-the Egyptian, on the richest of soils, has become a slave, who is not
-likely ever to venture to shake off his chains, though he still talks
-vaingloriously of the greatness of his past.</p>
-
-<p>In point of fact, the Nubian has as much right, if not more, to
-glory in the exploits of his ancestors and to fortify his soul in
-recounting their prowess. For these ancestors fought bravely not
-only with the Pharaohs and the Romans, but also with the Turks and
-the Arabs&mdash;the governing and subject races of modern Egypt<a id="FNanchor_80" href="#Footnote_80" class="fnanchor">[79]</a>&mdash;nor
-would they have been overcome had they not been without fire-arms.
-At the time of my first visit to the Nile, eye-witnesses of
-some of the last battles were still alive, and from their lips I learned
-enough to enable me to do justice, in one respect at least, to a manly,
-much misjudged people. The events to which I refer took place in
-the beginning of the third decade of this century.</p>
-
-<p>After Mohammed-Aali, the energetic but unscrupulous and even
-cruel founder of the family now ruling in Egypt, had, in March
-1811, treacherously fallen upon and massacred the chiefs of the
-Mamelukes whom he had invited to meet him, his mastery of the
-Lower Nile seemed assured. But the proud warriors, whose leaders
-had been done to death by shameful stratagem and unworthy breach
-of faith, were not completely subjugated. Brooding revenge, the
-Mamelukes chose new leaders and betook themselves to Nubia,
-there to collect their forces, to renew the combat with their artful
-foe, or at least to threaten him. Mohammed-Aali recognized the
-danger, and delayed not to meet it. His army followed the still-scattered
-troops of the Mamelukes. The latter, too weak to venture
-open battle, were forced to take to the river-forts, where, fighting
-desperately and defiant of death, they fell to a man. The Nubians
-were conquered at the same time, and, submitting to their fate,
-were condemned to servitude. Only the brave race of the warlike
-Sheikier resisted. In 1820 they met the Turkish-Egyptian army
-near the village of Korti&mdash;an heroic but undisciplined people,
-accustomed to win victory with lance, sword, and shield, against
-well-drilled soldiers equipped with fire-arms. According to ancient
-custom the women were present at the battle to stimulate the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_371">[Pg 371]</span>
-combatants with their shrill battle-cry, to raise the children aloft
-in their arms, that the fathers, seeing them, might be fired to deeds
-defiant of death.</p>
-
-<p>The Nubians fought in a manner worthy of their sires; bravely
-they pressed forward against the artillery, which wrought fell
-destruction in their ranks. Mightily they smote with their long
-swords at the supposed monsters, leaving the deep impress of their
-sharp blades on the brazen barrels of the cannons; but the Egyptians
-conquered. Not bravery, but superiority of weapons won the day.
-Amid screams of woe from the women, the brown warriors took
-to flight. But the former, possessed by a wild despair, preferring
-glorious death to shameful servitude, pressed their children to their
-breasts and threw themselves in hundreds into the river, which the
-blood of their husbands had reddened. The deserts on both sides
-of the stream prevented the fugitives from reaching any refuge,
-and finally there was nothing left to them but to surrender and to
-bend their hitherto unbowed necks under the yoke of the conqueror.</p>
-
-<p>Only once again did the old heroic spirit burst into clear flames.
-One of the chiefs, who is already celebrated in the saga of Melik el
-Nimmr, or “the panther-king”, collected his people at Shendy in
-South Nubia, for the lash of the cruel conqueror had become unbearable.
-Suspicious of his intentions, Ismael Pasha, son of the Egyptian
-governor and commander of the forces, set out against him, and
-making use of all available boats, appeared at Shendy before Melik
-Nimmr had by any means completed his preparations. Impossible
-demands were made in order to compel Melik Nimmr to absolute
-subjection. He, recognizing the impending ruin, braced himself for
-action. While he feigned submission, his messengers hastened from
-hut to hut stirring into flames the sparks of insurrection which
-glimmered everywhere beneath the ashes. By crafty representations
-he induced Ismael Pasha to leave the security of his ship. He
-lured him to the roomy though straw-thatched royal dwelling,
-surrounded by a thick hedge of thorns and by immense heaps of
-straw which, according to the panther-king’s assurance, were intended
-to supply the camel-fodder which the Pasha demanded.</p>
-
-<p>A splendid feast, such as Ismael has never seen, will Melik<span class="pagenum" id="Page_372">[Pg 372]</span>
-Nimmr give to his lord and master. He begs leave to invite all
-the officers of the Egyptian army, and receives the Pasha’s permission.
-Captains, officers, and staff are gathered to the feast in
-the king’s humble palace. Outside the fence of thorns sounds the
-tarabuka, the drum of the country which calls to the dance, as also
-to the battle. The young folk, festively anointed, engage in a
-merry war-dance. Hurled lances whirr through the air, and are
-deftly caught on the small shields of the company of dancers ranged
-opposite. Long swords are whirled dexterously, and as skilfully
-warded off. Ismael is mightily delighted with the handsome,
-dusky youths, the graceful movements of their supple limbs, the
-boldness of their attack, the security of their defence. Thicker
-and thicker becomes the whirling throng in front of the banquet-hall,
-more and more sword-dancers appear, more violent and riotous
-become their movements, and more rapidly beat the drums. Then
-suddenly the tarabuka changes its tone; it is echoed a hundred-fold
-in all quarters of Shendy, and not less in the neighbouring villages
-on this side and on that side of the river. A great cry of rage in
-the highest notes of women’s voices fills the air; and women naked
-to the loins, with dust and ashes on their oil-soaked hair, bearing
-firebrands in their hands, rush upon the king’s hall, hurling their
-brands on the walls and on the surrounding heaps of straw. A
-monstrous sheaf of fire shoots up to heaven, and amid the flames,
-resounding with cries of horror and woe, of execration and rage,
-the death-dealing lances of the dancers fly in thousands. Neither
-Ismael Pasha nor any of his feasting comrades escape a horrible
-death.</p>
-
-<p>It was as if champions of the down-trodden people had risen
-from the ground. Whoever could bear weapons turned against the
-cruel enemy; women, forgetful of their sex, joined the ranks of
-the combatants; girls and boys strove with the strength and endurance
-of men towards the common end. Shendy and Metamme
-were in one night freed of all their foes. Only a few of the
-Egyptians, quartered in the distant villages, escaped the bath of
-blood, and brought the gruesome news to the second commander,
-then stationed in Kordofan.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_373">[Pg 373]</span></p>
-
-<p>He, Mohammed-Bei el Defterdar, still spoken of by the Nubians
-as “el Djelad” or the devil, hastened with all his forces to Shendy,
-defeated the Nubians for the second time, and glutted his revenge
-by the slaughter of more than half the population of the unhappy
-country. The “panther-king” succeeded in escaping to Abyssinia;
-but his subjects had to bow under the foreign yoke, and their
-children “grew up”, to use the expression of my informant, “in
-the blood of their fathers”. Since these misfortunes the Nubians
-have remained submissive thralls of their oppressors.</p>
-
-<p>The Nubians, or, as they call themselves, the Barabra, are a
-people of medium height, slim, and well-proportioned, with relatively
-small, well-formed hands and feet, with generally pleasant
-features, characterized by almond-shaped eyes, a high, straight or
-curved nose, slightly broadened only at the lobes, a small mouth,
-fleshy lips, an arched forehead, and a long chin. Their hair is fine,
-slightly curled but not woolly; the colour of their skin varies from
-bronze to dark-brown. They have a good carriage, their walk is
-light and elastic, and their other movements nimble and graceful.
-Thus they contrast very favourably with the negroes of the Upper
-Nile valley, and even with the Fungis of Eastern Soudan. The men
-shave the hair of the head either altogether, or all but a tuft at the
-top, and wear a tightly-fitting white cap, the <i>takhie</i>, over which on
-holidays a white cloth may be twisted like a turban. The clothing
-consists of a shawl, six to nine yards in length, wound around the
-upper part of the body, short breeches and sandals, and an additional
-blue or white robe-like garment on holidays. A dagger is carried
-on the left arm, and, when journeying, they also carry a lance.
-Leather rolls, which are said to contain amulets, and a little pocket,
-hung round the neck with cords, are the only ornaments worn by
-the men. The women arrange their hair in hundreds of small thin
-plaits, which they soak with mutton fat, butter, or castor-oil, thus
-diffusing an odour which to our nostrils seems almost unendurable;
-they tattoo various parts of their face and body with indigo;
-their lips are often dyed blue, and their palms always red. They
-adorn their necks with beads of glass, amber, and cornelian, amulet-pockets,
-and the like, their ankles with bangles of tinware, ivory,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_374">[Pg 374]</span>
-or horn, their ears, nostrils, and fingers with rings of silver. An
-apron reaching to the ankle is worn round the loins instead of
-trousers, and the shawl is wound in picturesque folds around breast
-and shoulders. The boys go naked until their sixth or eighth year;
-the girls wear from their fourth year an exceedingly becoming
-tassel-apron, made of fine strips of leather, and often decorated
-with glass-beads or shells.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f59">
-<img src="images/fig59.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 55.&mdash;A Nubian Village on the Nile.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>All the Nubians settled in the valley of the river live in four-cornered
-huts, more or less cubical in form. The walls are sometimes
-built of sun-dried bricks, and then they slope slightly inwards
-as they ascend, or the house may consist of a light wooden framework
-covered with straw. Usually there is but one room with a
-low door, and often the windows are represented only by air-holes:
-in fact the whole arrangements are of the simplest. The furnishings
-consist of a raised couch&mdash;the <i>aukareb</i>&mdash;with a cover of interwoven
-strips of leather or bast; simple chests; well-finished, even
-water-tight baskets; leather-bags; vessels for holding water, dhurra<span class="pagenum" id="Page_375">[Pg 375]</span>
-beer, and palm wine; hand-mills or stones for grinding the grain;
-iron or earthen plates, slightly hollowed on the surface, for baking
-bread; hollow gourds, a hatchet, a gimlet, several mattocks, and
-the like. Mats, curtains, screens, and coverlets are accessories;
-bowls, flat woven dishes and their lids are luxuries which not every
-house possesses. The food consists chiefly, sometimes almost exclusively,
-of vegetable produce, milk, butter, and eggs. The grain,
-which is more frequently rubbed than ground, is worked into
-dough, and baked into a doughy bread. This may be eaten alone
-without any relish, or along with milk, or with thick mucilaginous
-soups made of various plants. To the latter may be added numerous
-pungent spices and some shreds of flesh, which has been dried
-in strips in the sun. The Nubian is more keen for drink than for
-food, and of every intoxicating liquor, whether of native or foreign
-origin, he always shows an eager, not to say excessive, appreciation.</p>
-
-<p>The habits and customs of the inhabitants of the middle Nile
-valley display a remarkable amalgamation of inherited and acquired
-characters. Taciturn and carelessly pliant, the Nubian seems as
-willing to adapt himself to what is new as to forget the traditions
-of his home. Worshipper of Islam more in name than in reality,
-he is as innocent of strict adherence to the tenets of his creed as
-of intolerance towards those of another faith. Until he has reached
-mature manhood or old age, he seldom or never respects the commandments
-of the Prophet with the conscientiousness of Arab or
-Turk. He circumcises his boys, gives his daughters in marriage,
-treats his wives, buries his dead, and celebrates the feasts according
-to the laws of Islam; but he thinks that he has done quite enough
-if he observes the external regulations of his cult. Song and dance,
-amusing conversation, jokes, and a drinking revel, please him better
-than the precepts and commandments of the Koran; he has no
-mind to engage in monastic exercises of faith and penitence, nor
-even in the fasts which other Mohammedans hold so sacred.</p>
-
-<p>At the same time, no one can call the Nubian weak-willed, fickle,
-servile, untrustworthy, treacherous, or, in short, bad. In lower
-Nubia, where he constantly meets with hundreds of travellers, rich
-in his eyes, and free-handed, he of course frequently becomes a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_376">[Pg 376]</span>
-shameless, indeed an unendurable beggar; and the strangers whom
-he importunes, because his poor land will not support him, do not
-tend to ennoble him. On the whole, however, he may fairly be
-called an honest fellow. One misses, it is true, the strength of will
-characteristic of his fathers, but spirit and courage are by no means
-lacking. He is gentler and more good-natured than the Egyptian,
-and not less trustworthy and enduring when he has to face difficult
-or dangerous tasks. In his poor, unproductive country his whole
-being is rooted. Of it he thinks with pathetic constancy when in
-a strange land; he labours, pinches, and saves with the one desire to
-pass his manhood and old age at home; and this desire, which compels
-him to a ceaseless struggle for existence, gives strength to both
-body and soul. The raging stream, with which he contends not less
-persistently than with the rocky land, arouses and preserves his
-courage and self-reliance, just as it develops his calm confidence in
-face of danger. Thanks to the qualities thus acquired, the Nubian
-is a trusty servant, a reliable companion, a restless <i>djellabi</i> or
-merchant, and, above all, an adventurous, fearless boatman.</p>
-
-<p>It almost seems as if the parents disciplined their sons from their
-earliest years in all the services which they may have to discharge
-when grown up. As in Egypt, so in Nubia the children of the poor
-are hardly educated at all; they are at most urged to work, or rather
-are utilized according to the measure of their strength. However
-small the boy, he must do his work and fulfil his allotted task;
-however tender the girl, she must help her mother in the many
-duties which are laid upon the women of the land. But whereas
-in Egypt they scarcely allow the children any recreation, in Nubia
-merry games are as far as possible encouraged. In Egypt the boy
-becomes a thrall and the girl his slave, without ever knowing the
-joys of childhood; in Nubia even those who are more than half
-grown-up are often still children alike in their disposition and in
-their ways. Thus the Egyptian youths seem to us as unnaturally
-serious as their fathers, while the Nubians are as joyous as their
-mothers.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f60">
-<img src="images/fig60.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 56.&mdash;Nubian Children at Play.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Every traveller becomes familiar with a favourite game, which
-he cannot watch without delight, for it displays agility and grace
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_377">[Pg 377]</span>of movement in combination with endurance and the spirit of
-adventure. It is the universal game of “Hare and Hounds” or
-“Follow my leader”. After their work is done the boys and girls
-unite in play. The boys leave the water-wheel around which they
-have driven the oxen from early morning till dusk, or the field in
-which they have worked with their father, or the young camel
-which they have been teaching to trot. The girls leave the younger
-brothers and sisters whom they have dragged rather than carried<span class="pagenum" id="Page_378">[Pg 378]</span>
-about all day, or the dough whose leavening they had to superintend,
-or the grinding-mill over which they have exerted their
-young strength. All hasten to the bank of the river. The boys
-are naked; the girls wear only their tasselled aprons. Laughing
-and chattering they go; like black ants they swarm on the golden
-yellow sand, running over and between the dark rocks. Those who
-are to chase stand picturesquely grouped, until the fugitive gets the
-requisite start. He gives the sign for the chase to begin, and they
-are all at his heels. Like a gazelle he speeds over the sandy plain
-to the nearest rocks, and like hounds in full cry his comrades give
-chase; like a chamois he climbs aloft upon the rocks, and not less
-nimbly do his pursuers follow; like a startled beaver he plunges
-into the stream to hide himself by diving, to escape by swimming,
-but there too they follow excitedly, both boys and girls, kicking
-like swimming dogs, halloing and screaming, chattering, laughing,
-chuckling, like a flock of gabbling ducks. For long the result remains
-undecided, and it not unfrequently happens that the bold
-fugitive swims right across the broad river before he falls into the
-hands of his pursuers. The parents of the merry company look on
-from the banks, and rejoice in the agility, courage, and endurance
-which their children display, and even the European is compelled
-to admit that he never saw creatures more joyous or more vigorous
-than those slim, dusky, sleek-skinned Nubian children.</p>
-
-<p>From boys who play thus boldly come the men who dare to ply
-the boatman’s craft among the rapids, to steer their boat down the
-river hurrying through the valley, with rushing, swirling, boiling,
-raging waves, and even to sail upwards against these. On many of
-their journeyings they do not even use a boat, but trust to frail
-floats of dhurra-stems, or swim with the help of inflated, air-tight
-skin-bags. These Nubian boatmen and swimmers have looked
-danger in the face so firmly, and so often, that the waves have
-never whispered either myth or saga in their ears. They know of
-no nixies or water-sprites, of no genii, good or bad, and the protecting
-powers whose help they ask before or during dangerous
-journeys have but the solemn might of fate, none of the spite of
-fickle spirits. Thus the saga is dumb in the rapids, in “the Belly of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_379">[Pg 379]</span>
-the Rocks”, in the plunging, whirling “Mother of Stones”, in the
-“Shatterer”, the “Camel’s Neck”, the “Coral”, or whatever the rapid
-may be called; the saga is dumb, though the whole region seems the
-fittest home of legends, and the boatman has too often reason to be
-tempted to believe in spirits who wish ill to human kind.</p>
-
-<p><i>The rapids are navigated down-stream at high and middle
-water, up-stream at middle and low water.</i> When the Nile is lowest
-any boat going down-stream would be shattered; when the flood
-comes not even the largest sail would impel a vessel of considerable
-size against the current. At low water hundreds of men are requisitioned
-to haul one of the all-powerful government’s medium-sized
-barks up-stream; at the time of flood, they would scarcely be able
-to find footing on the few unflooded rock-islands on either side of
-the navigable channel. Full flood is the best time for going down-stream,
-and middle-water is best for going up, since at this time the
-regular north winds have set in and render practicable the use
-of sails.</p>
-
-<p>All the craft specially intended for the rapids are distinguished
-from other Nile boats by their small size and by peculiarities of build
-and of rigging. The hull has but few timbers, and the boards are
-held together by nails driven in obliquely. The sail is not triangular,
-but four-sided, and fastened to two yards in such a way
-that from the lower more or less canvas can be unfurled, or spread
-to the wind. The build and rigging are thoroughly adapted to the
-conditions. The smallness, especially the shortness of the boat, is
-adapted to the necessity for sharp turnings; the manner in which
-the boards are joined gives the hull an elastic flexibility and pliancy
-which are valuable when the vessel runs aground; the adaptability
-of the canvas to the strength of the wind and of the current makes
-it possible to maintain a fairly successful contest against a most
-variable resistance. Nevertheless no one would willingly go up or
-down stream alone; the boatmen wisely prefer to go in companies,
-so that they may aid one another whenever occasion demands.</p>
-
-<p>A fleet of boats plying up-stream presents a beautiful, inspiring
-picture as it sails away from a landing-place, or from some quiet
-creek, in which it has rested by night. All the navigable portions<span class="pagenum" id="Page_380">[Pg 380]</span>
-of the river show white sails, of which one can see twenty or more
-gliding among the dark rocks; at first all the craft are about the
-same distance apart, but soon the variable currents and breezes
-break their order. One and then another lags farther and farther
-behind, one and then another shoots ahead of the main body of
-the fleet, and in the course of an hour there is a wide interval
-between the first boat and the last. Yet, even with a strong and
-constant wind, the progress of the voyage is much less than it
-seems. The waves, indeed, break impetuously on the bow, but the
-boat has to contend with so strong an opposing current that its
-forward movement is really slow. It is an art to steer under such
-conditions, so that the boat may sail as straight as possible, consistent
-with avoiding the rocks hidden beneath the surface. For every tack
-means a change in the position of the unwieldy sail, and every time
-the boat touches a rock a leak is caused. Captain and crew have thus
-constant employment. Yet their work only begins in earnest when
-they near one of the countless rapids which have to be overcome. The
-sail, hitherto but partially unfurled, is now given fully to the wind;
-the bark pushes its way like a strong steamship through the chaos
-of rocks and reaches the whirlpool which is found beneath almost
-all rapids. All the men stand with oars outstretched and ropes in
-readiness, awaiting the inevitable moment when the boat will be
-gripped by the whirlpool and drawn into its vortex. At the skipper’s
-bidding the oars on one side dip into the water, on the other
-side long poles are thrust out to keep the boat off the rocks, while
-the sail, skilfully handled by the most experienced sailors, is taken
-in or let out, turned and twisted, as the circumstances demand.
-Once, twice, six times, ten times, they try in vain to cut through
-the whirlpool; at last they succeed and the boat reaches the lower
-end of the water-rush. But here it stops as if spell-bound; the
-pressure of the current equals that on the sails. The wind rises,
-and the vessel moves on a few yards; the pressure on the sail
-slackens again, and the waves drive it back to its former place. The
-contest with the whirling waves recommences, and again the boat is
-worsted. At last it reaches the desired goal, and must hold to it.
-One of the crew grips a rope in his teeth, plunges into the midst of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_381">[Pg 381]</span>
-the wild surge, and dragging the heavy rope behind him seeks to gain
-a rock which rises above the raging waves some little distance ahead.
-The waves hurl him back, cover and overwhelm him, but he continues
-his efforts, until it becomes plain that he must yield to the
-superior force of the stream. He gives up the struggle and is pulled
-by the rope back to the boat. Again the whirling waves, so strong
-to destroy, play with the frail structure which ventures to oppose
-them; and at last the wind gives the victory to the boat. But suddenly
-a portentous crash is heard; the steersman loses his footing
-and is projected into the stream; the boat has struck on one of
-the hidden rocks. With the utmost speed one of the crew gets
-hold of the rudder, a second throws a rope and a bladder to the
-struggling steersman, and without a moment’s delay the rest jump
-into the hold, and with hammer, chisel, and tow seek to repair the
-leak which they are sure to find. The man at the rudder endeavours
-to save the vessel from further mischance; the drenched steersman
-clambers up with an “<i>El hamdi lillahi!</i>” or “Thank God!” more
-grumbling than grateful; the rest hammer and plug the gaping
-leak, one even surrendering his shirt to eke out the scanty tow.
-Once more the boat sails through whirl and wave, rocking, creaking,
-groaning like a storm-tossed ship; once more it reaches the
-rapids; once more it is arrested between wind and current. Two
-sailors spring overboard at once, and, fighting against the stream
-with all their strength, at last succeed in gaining the rock. They
-surround it with one end of the rope and signal to the others to
-pull the boat up. This done, the vessel is moored to the rock, and
-there it hangs in the midst of the wild rush of waters, rocking so
-violently and continuously that it causes nausea. A second boat
-draws near and asks for assistance. A rope is floated down on a
-bladder, and thus time and trouble are saved. Soon the second
-also reaches the rock, a third follows, and a fourth, and all dance up
-and down together in the tumult. And now the united strength of
-the crews is sufficient to effect a successful passage. One of the boats
-is manned with double the normal crew; the other boatmen swim,
-and wade, and climb, dragging the rope to another rock further
-ahead, and, with all the help that the sail can give, one boat after<span class="pagenum" id="Page_382">[Pg 382]</span>
-another is pulled through the rushing waters of the rapid. Now
-and then at certain places the sail alone is sufficient to carry the
-boat up, but in such cases a lull of the wind not unfrequently
-endangers both craft and crew. Often, too, boats are forced to
-linger in the midst of the tumult for hours or even days, waiting
-for a favourable wind. Then one may see a tiny bark hanging
-behind every jagged rock, all alike unable to help their neighbours.</p>
-
-<p>Several times I have been forced to make my bed on one of the
-black rocks amid-stream, for the violent rocking of the boat in the
-rapids made sleep an impossibility. A stranger sleeping-place can
-scarcely be imagined. The ground on which one lies seems to tremble
-before the assaults of the flood; the roaring and bellowing, hissing
-and splashing, rumbling and thundering of the waves drowns every
-other sound; one sits or lies on a rug with his comrades without
-uttering a word. Every blast of wind drives the spray like a fleeting
-mist across the rock island. The glowing camp-fire throws a weird
-light on the rock, and on the dark water foaming around its ragged
-edges; the falls and whirlpools in the shade seem even more gruesome
-than they are. At times one cannot help fancying that they
-open a hundred jaws to engulf the poor child of man. But his
-confidence is firm as the rock on which he rests. The mighty stream
-may thunder as it will, the seething waves may rage and foam, he
-is safe on a rock which has defied the flood for ages. But what if
-the rope break, and the boat be hurled and shattered on the nearest
-rocks? Then another will come to take the shipwrecked crew
-ashore! In spite of these and similar thoughts, and in spite of the
-ceaseless roar, the traveller can sleep, and sleep tranquilly too. For
-danger lends courage, and courage brings confidence, and the thunder
-of the waves becomes at length a lullaby to the wearied ear. And
-on the ensuing morning what an awakening! In the east the sky
-is suffused with red, the ancient giant-rocks wear a purple cloak on
-their shoulders, and shine in gleaming light, as if they were clad in
-burnished steel. Sunshine and shadow flit over the dark reefs and
-through the gullies filled with golden-yellow sand, and over all is
-thrown the marvellous, indescribably beautiful, colour-garment of
-the desert. Thousands and thousands of water-pearls shine and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_383">[Pg 383]</span>
-sparkle, and the mighty river rolls out its mighty melody, which is
-ever the same and yet eternally new. Such a glory, such a harmony,
-fills the heart with contentment and rapture. The morning is
-spent in devotional contemplation of this glorious spectacle, for it
-is not till forenoon that the wind begins to blow from the north
-and fill the sails. Work and danger, toil and struggle, hazard and
-anxiety, begin anew; and thus one day follows another, and rapid
-after rapid is at length overcome.</p>
-
-<p>The voyage up-stream is dangerous and tedious; the voyage
-down-stream has no parallel in perilousness, such a mad rush is it
-through flood and rapid, whirlpool and eddy, cataract and gorge,&mdash;an
-exciting game in which life is the stake.</p>
-
-<p>Voyages down-stream through the region of the rapids are only
-undertaken by the special boats which are made for the purpose
-in the Soudan. About ten per cent are smashed on the voyage,
-and that the percentage of deaths is not equally high is simply due
-to the matchless swimming powers of the Nubian boatmen. Even
-when they are dashed by the waves against a rock they do not
-always drown; usually they are like ducks in the water, and reach
-the shore in safety.</p>
-
-<p>Let me try to give a faithful picture of one of these down-stream
-voyages.</p>
-
-<p>Six new boats, built of the much-prized heavy mimosa-wood
-which sinks in water, are moored to the shore at the southern limit
-of the third group of rapids. The men who compose their crews
-are lying on sandy places between the black rocks, where they have
-spent the night. It is still early morning and the camp is quiet;
-only the river roars and murmurs in the solitude. As day dawns
-the sleepers awake; one after another descends to the stream, and
-performs the ablutions ordained to accompany morning prayer.
-After the prescribed prayer has been uttered from “preface” to
-“conclusion”, they refresh themselves with a frugal breakfast.
-Then old and young betake themselves to the tomb of a sheikh or
-saint, whose white dome gleams among the light-green mimosas,
-there to offer a special petition for a fortunate voyage. In this they
-are led by the eldest <i>Reis</i>, or steersman, who represents the Imam.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_384">[Pg 384]</span>
-Returning to the river, they observe an ancient heathen custom of
-throwing some dates, as an offering, into the waves.</p>
-
-<p>At length each skipper orders his men to their posts. “Let go
-the sail! Row, men, row&mdash;row in the name of God, the All-Merciful,”
-he shouts. Thereupon he strikes up a song, with an
-ever-recurring refrain; one of the rowers takes it up and sings verse
-after verse; and all the rest accompany him with the rhythmically
-repeated words: “Help us, help us, O Mohammed, help us, God’s
-messenger and prophet!”</p>
-
-<p>Slowly the bark gains the middle of the stream; quicker and
-ever quicker it glides onwards; in a few minutes it is rushing,
-more swiftly than ever, among the rocky islands above the rapid.
-“O Said, give us good cheer,” says the Reis, while the sailors go on
-singing as before. More and more quickly the oars dip into the
-turbid flood; the men, who were freshly anointed yesterday, are
-naked to the loins, and the sweat pours down their bodies as they
-strain every muscle. Praise and blame, flattery and reproaches,
-promises and threats, blessings and curses, fall from the skipper’s
-mouth according as the boat fulfils or disappoints his wishes. The
-strokes of the oars, pulled at full strength, follow each other more
-quickly still, though their purpose is solely to direct the otherwise
-exceedingly rapid course of the boat, and, as they often increase
-the danger they seek to avoid, the Reis may be excused if he
-exhausts all the hortatory vocabulary at his command in his
-desire to stimulate his crew. “Bend to your oars; work, work,
-my sons: show your strength, ye children and grandchildren of
-heroes; display your prowess, ye brave; exert your strength, ye
-giants; do honour to the prophet, all ye faithful! Oh, for the
-<i>merieza</i>! Oh, for the scented damsels of Dongola! Oh, for the
-delights of Cairo; all shall be yours. Larboard, I say, ye dogs, ye
-children of dogs, ye grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, and
-litter of dogs, ye Christians, ye heathen, ye Jews, ye Kaffres, ye fire-worshippers.
-Ah! ye rascals, ye swindlers, ye thieves, ye villains,
-ye vagabonds, do you call this rowing? First oar, starboard! are
-there women hanging about you? Third oar, larboard! throw overboard
-the weaklings who are misleading you. That’s right, well
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_385">[Pg 385]</span>done; bravo, ye strong, supple, clever youths; God bless you, brave
-fellows, and give your fathers joy and your children His blessing.
-Better, better, better yet, ye cowards, ye strengthless, ye sapless, ye
-miserable, ye pitiable&mdash;Allah damn you all in His righteous wrath,
-ye&mdash;ye&mdash;Help us, help us, O Mohammed.” Such is the torrent which<span class="pagenum" id="Page_386">[Pg 386]</span>
-rushes uninterruptedly from the skipper’s lips, and all his commands
-and cries, entreaties and execrations, are uttered with the utmost
-seriousness, and enforced with appropriate gestures of hand, and
-foot, and head.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f61">
-<img src="images/fig61.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 57.&mdash;A Passage through the Nile Rapids.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>The boat sweeps into the first part of the rapid. The rocks on
-both sides seem to whirl round; the surge floods the deck, and its
-thunder drowns every order. Unresisting the frail craft is borne
-towards a neck of rock&mdash;fear, anxiety, dismay may be read on every
-face, but there&mdash;the dreaded spot is already behind the stern, the
-foaming backwash has saved the imperilled boat, only a couple of
-oars have been shivered like thin glass. Their loss hinders the
-right management of the bark, and it sweeps on without answering
-to the rudder, on to a formidable waterfall. A general cry, expressing
-horror and despair; a sign from the Reis standing in the bow
-with trembling knees, and all throw themselves flat on the deck, and
-hold on like grim death; a deafening crash and an overwhelming
-rush of hissing, gurgling waves; for the space of a moment nothing
-but water, and then the boat gives a leap upward; they have passed
-the cataract and escaped the jaws of death. “El hamdi lillahi!”
-(God be thanked) rings out from every breast; some hurry to the
-hold to find the leak and plug it, others lay out new oars, and on
-they go.</p>
-
-<p>Behind the first boat comes a second, hurrying through the
-dangerous rapid. The oarsmen are labouring with extraordinary,
-ever-accelerating velocity; then, suddenly, all are thrown prostrate,
-all but one, who describes a high curve through the air into the
-river. He seems lost, buried in the raging depth; but no, while his
-comrades wring their hands in dismay, the matchless swimmer
-appears on the surface in the middle of the foaming whirlpool
-beneath the rapid. As a third boat shoots past the second, which
-has stuck on a rock, and reaches the whirlpool, the swimmer catches
-one of the oars, swings himself cleverly on board, and is saved. A
-fourth boat also hurries past; the beseeching gestures from the crew
-of the second boat implore for help; but a hand raised to heaven is
-the only answer. In truth, no human help could be given, for no
-craft is here under man’s control; the stream itself must help, if it<span class="pagenum" id="Page_387">[Pg 387]</span>
-will not destroy,&mdash;and it does help. The boat oscillates violently
-on the rock; its prow and stern dip deep in the water; but suddenly
-there is a whirl, and once more it is borne on through the surging
-current. Some of the crew row, others bale out the water, as do
-two women journeying with them, others hammer, and plug, and
-caulk in the attempt to repair the damage done. Half-full of water,
-scarce keeping afloat at all, the boat reaches the shore and is emptied
-of her cargo. But half of this, consisting of gum-arabic, is spoilt,
-and the owner, a poor merchant, tears his beard, moaning, lamenting,
-weeping, and cursing the two women passengers. The two
-women are to blame for all. How could they, who brought ruin
-to the first man in paradise, bring any blessing to faithful Mussulmans?
-Woe, woe upon the women and all their kind!</p>
-
-<p>Next day the bark is repaired, new caulked, and reloaded; it
-speeds on with the rest to the next rapids, passes through these without
-further mischance, and reaches the fertile valley of middle Nubia,
-which is free from rocks and gives a hospitable welcome to every
-voyager. The cares, lately so grievous, are as soon forgotten; like
-children, the brown men laugh and joke, and drink with content
-great draughts of palm wine and <i>merieza</i>. Much too quickly for
-their taste does the stream bear the boat through this happy land.</p>
-
-<p>Again the desert spreads its golden-yellow sand over the rocky
-banks; again rocky islands narrow, divide, and impede the river;
-the barks are entering the second group of rapids. One after
-another the dangerous currents, the dreaded whirlpools, the perilous
-straits and corners, are safely passed and left behind; only
-the last and wildest of the rapids lie between the boats and the
-palmy Wady Halfa. And below that village all is smooth sailing
-except at one place below Philæ, where the river is once more
-broken up by rocks. Above these last rapids&mdash;Gaskol, Moedyana,
-Abu-sir, and Hambol&mdash;which are truly dreadful, the boats seek for
-a quiet bay; and here all encamp to gain strength for the work and
-warfare, cares and trials of the coming day. The northerners also
-enjoy the prospect of a quiet night’s rest.</p>
-
-<p>Night draws its veil over the desert land. The rushing waves
-thunder in the rocky valley; the stars are reflected in the peaceful<span class="pagenum" id="Page_388">[Pg 388]</span>
-creek; the blossoming mimosas make the shore fragrant. An old
-gray-haired Reis, born and bred among the rapids, approaches the
-strangers from the north. A snow-white beard ennobles his impressive
-features; his flowing cloak suggests a priest’s robe. “Sons
-of strangers,” he says, “men from the land of the Franks, difficult
-things have ye overcome along with us, but there is harder still
-before you. I am a child of this land, seventy years has the sun
-shone upon me, and at last he has whitened my hair: I am an old
-man, and ye might be my children. Therefore take ye heed to my
-warning, and draw back from what ye propose&mdash;to accompany us
-on the morrow. Witless ye go to the danger, but I know it. Had
-ye seen, as I have seen, those rocks which bar the way of the
-waves; did ye know, as I know, how these waves storm and rage
-for entrance and passage, how they overwhelm the rocks, and hurl
-themselves roaring into the depths below, ye would see that only
-the grace of God, whom we praise and glorify, can guide our poor
-boat aright, ye would yield to me. Would not the heart of your
-mother break should the All-merciful refuse us His compassion?
-Ye will not stay? Then may the grace of the Father of mercies be
-with us all.”</p>
-
-<p>Before sunrise the shore becomes a scene of activity. Devoutly
-as before the boatmen offer the prayer of the dawn. Serious,
-experienced steersmen, who know the river well, and young, strong-limbed,
-adventurous oarsmen, offer their services to the ancient.
-Carefully he chooses the most skilful steersmen and the strongest
-oarsmen; he sets three men to the rudder; and then he gives orders
-to start. “Men and sons of the land, children of the river, pray
-the Fatiha,” he orders. And all repeat the words of the first Sura
-of the Koran. “Praise and honour to the Lord of the world, the
-All-merciful, He who ruleth at the day of judgment. Thee would
-we serve, to Thee would we pray, that Thou wouldest guide us in
-the way that is right, in the way of those who enjoy Thy favour,
-and not in the way of those with whom Thou art displeased.”
-“Amen, my children, in the name of the All-merciful! Let go the
-sail, and bend to the oars.” With rhythmic stroke these dip into
-the water.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_389">[Pg 389]</span></p>
-
-<p>Slowly the pent-up stream bears the boat towards the first
-rapid. Again, as it nears the rocks, the boat refuses to obey either
-rudder or oars, but creaking and groaning in every joint, it rushes
-through the overwhelming waves and boiling foam, through eddy
-and whirlpool, through narrow channels and abruptly-winding
-courses, drenched and flooded with water, shaving rocky corners
-by an arm’s-length, almost touching the teeth of hidden reefs. On
-it rushes to the second rapid.</p>
-
-<p>From the height of the cataract the eye looks down with
-dismay at the dreadful violence of the torrent, and one sees at the
-lower end of the rapid a round block of rock surrounded by foaming
-waves as if it were the head of a white-haired giant rising
-above the surface. Like an arrow to its mark our fragile ungovernable
-boat rushes towards this giant’s head. “In the name of the
-All-merciful, row, row, ye men, ye strong, brave, noble men, ye
-children of the stream!” cries the steersman. “Larboard, larboard
-the rudder with all your strength!” But the boat answers neither
-to oars nor to rudder. It is not indeed the giant block which
-endangers the craft, but a narrow channel to the starboard into
-which we are swept and in which we are hurried on towards a
-labyrinth of rocks through which no possible pathway can be seen.
-The men already leave their oars, and throw off any clothes they
-have on, so that they may be unhampered in swimming. A fearful
-crash turns all eyes backward: the giant’s head has caught the
-next boat, which was longer and less pliant, and holds it oscillating
-over the seething flood. This increases the dismay. All our men
-regard the crew of the second boat as doomed, and as for themselves
-they prepare to plunge into the torrent. Then the voice of
-the ancient pilot rings out sharp and clear: “Are ye mad, are ye
-God-forsaken, ye children of heathen? Work, work, ye boys, ye
-men, ye heroes, ye giants, ye faithful! In the hand of the Almighty
-rests all power and strength; give Him the glory, and bend to your
-oars, ye sons of heroes!” And he himself takes the rudder, and in
-a few minutes directs the misguided boat from the “way of sinners”
-into the “right way”. One boat after another appears in the open
-water: but not all. The giant’s head still bears his victim, and will<span class="pagenum" id="Page_390">[Pg 390]</span>
-most likely bear it until next year’s flood. The ill-fated boat with
-the women on board was shivered to pieces at the uppermost of
-this group of rapids. With the crews, happily saved, the skipper
-prays, as he did before departure, “Glory and honour to the Lord
-of the World.”</p>
-
-<p>Before the village of Wady Halfa, overshadowed with palms,
-the boats are moored; the men have gone ashore, and lie in
-picturesque groups around the camp-fire. Big-bellied flagons,
-filled with <i>merieza</i>, invite the thirsty; in other vessels the flesh of
-new-killed sheep is boiling under the care of women and girls who
-have quickly gathered round. Reeking of castor-oil, they are by
-no means welcome visitors to Europeans. The notes of the zither
-and the beating of the drum announce the beginning of the “fantasia”,
-the feast and the revel. Unutterable comfort takes possession
-of the boatman’s heart, joyous contentment is expressed in
-every look and gesture. At length, however, the inevitable fatigue
-after the heavy anxious work of the day asserts itself. The tarabuka
-sinks from the wearied arm, the tambura falls from sleepy
-fingers, and all the voices, which but a few moments ago were so
-loud, become silent.</p>
-
-<p>Then the voices of the night are heard. The thunder of the rapids
-resounds down the valley, there is whispering among the crowns
-of the palm-trees with which the night-wind plays, and on the
-flat shore the waves splash in rhythmic cadence. The thundering
-waves and the rippling water, the rushing wind and the whispering
-palms unite their music in an exquisite lullaby, which leads all
-the sleepers to the happy land of golden dreams.</p>
-
-
-<hr class="full x-ebookmaker-drop" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="c15">A JOURNEY IN SIBERIA.</h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>We had left the populous streets of St. Petersburg and the
-gilded domes of Moscow far behind us; and before us rose the
-towers of Nijni-Novgorod on the further bank of the Oka. We
-had reason to be grateful for the manner of our reception in the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_391">[Pg 391]</span>
-two capitals of the Russian Empire. We had respectfully taken
-leave of his Majesty our own noble Emperor in Berlin, had
-received cordial recommendations from the German Foreign Office,
-and had met with a friendly welcome from the German Embassy
-in St. Petersburg, so we had hoped for a favourable reception in
-Russia, but the hospitality accorded us far exceeded our boldest
-expectations. His Majesty the Czar was pleased to give us an
-audience; princes and princesses of the imperial house deigned to
-receive us; the chancellor, the ministers, and high officers of
-state, had all met us with that thoughtful courtesy and obliging
-complaisance for which educated Russians are noted; and we were
-furnished with the introductions whose importance we afterwards
-realized.</p>
-
-<p>As far as Nijni-Novgorod we had enjoyed the modern conveniences
-of travel; thenceforward we were to learn how Russians
-traverse distances of thousands of kilometres or versts, how they
-travel in summer and in winter, by day and by night, in furious
-storm and in smiling sunshine, in splashing rain, icy snow, and
-dusty drought, in sledges and in wagons. Before us stood a
-huge and massive travelling sledge, clamped at all its joints, with
-broadly projecting stays to guard against overturning, with a hood
-to shelter the travellers from rain and snow, and drawn by three
-horses on whose yoke a little bell tinkled.</p>
-
-<p>On the 19th of March we began a rapid journey over the
-frozen surface of the Volga, but it was not without its hindrances.
-For a thaw had accompanied us from Germany to Russia, and had
-warned us to hasten from St. Petersburg and Moscow, and a thaw
-remained our constant companion, as if we were heralds of the
-spring. Holes in the ice filled with water, warning us of the yawning
-depth beneath, drenched the horses, the sledge, and ourselves, or
-forced us to make tiresome circuits; the cracking and groaning of
-the ice made the danger seem worse than it really was, and both
-drivers and postmasters became so anxious, that after a short
-journey we were forced to exchange the smooth surface of ice for
-the as yet unbeaten summer highway. But this highway, traversed
-by thousands and thousands of freight wagons and by an equal<span class="pagenum" id="Page_392">[Pg 392]</span>
-number of exiles to dread Siberia, soon became to us, as to the
-prisoners, a way of sighs. Loose or slushy snow about three feet
-deep, covered the road; to right and left rushed little streams,
-wherever, in fact, they could find a course; the horses, now yoked in
-a line, one behind the other, strove, in a pitiable way, to keep their
-footing; with leaps and bounds they would try to keep the tracks
-of those who had gone in front, and at every false step they would
-sink up to the breast in the snow or in the icy water. Behind them
-floundered the sledge, creaking in every joint, as it plunged with a
-jerk from height to hollow; for hours sometimes it remained stuck
-in a hole, baffling the most strenuous exertions of the horses. On
-such occasions the wolf-scaring bell, the gift of the mysterious
-Faldine, seemed to sound most eerily. In vain the driver threatened,
-entreated, swore, groaned, yelled, cried, roared, cursed, and whipped;
-in most cases we did not get under weigh again until other travellers
-came to our assistance.</p>
-
-<p>Painfully the journey lengthened to four and five times the
-proper time for the distance. To look out of the sledge to right or
-left was scarce worth the trouble, for the flat country was dreary
-and featureless; only in the villages was there anything visible
-and interesting, and that only to those who knew how to look.
-For the winter still kept the people in their small, neatly built, but
-often sadly dilapidated log-huts; only fur-clad boys ran barefoot
-through the slushy snow and filthy mud which older boys and
-girls sought to avoid by help of stilts; only some old, white-bearded
-beggars loafed round the post-houses and taverns,
-beggars, however, whom every artist must have found as charming
-as I did. When they asked for alms, and stood in the
-majesty of old age, with uncovered bald heads and flowing hoary
-beards, disclosing the filthiness of their body and the raggedness of
-their clothes, they seemed to me such marvellous pictures and
-types of world-renouncing saints, that I could not keep myself from
-giving to them again and again, if only to get in thanks the sign
-of the cross, repeated from three to nine times in a manner so
-expressive and devout that only a real saint could equal it.</p>
-
-<p>In the villages we also saw more of the animal life than we did<span class="pagenum" id="Page_393">[Pg 393]</span>
-in the fields or even in the forests which we traversed. For in the
-open country winter still kept its fetters on life and all was quiet
-and death-like; we saw hardly any birds except the hooded crow
-and the yellow bunting; and the snow showed scarce any tracks of
-mammals. In the villages, however, we were welcomed at least by
-the delightful jackdaws, which adorned the roofs of the log-houses,
-by the ravens, which with us at home are the shy frequenters of
-mountain and forest, but are here the most confident companions
-of the villagers, by magpies and other birds, not to speak of
-domestic animals, among which the numerous pigs were especially
-obtrusive.</p>
-
-<p>After an uninterrupted journey of four days, without refreshing
-sleep, without any real rest, without sufficient food, we felt as if
-we had been beaten in every limb, and were, indeed, glad to reach
-Kazan&mdash;the old capital of the Tartars. We crossed the Volga on
-foot, picking our steps over the much-broken ice, and drew near to
-the city of sixty towers, which we had seen the day before shining
-in the distance. I fancied myself once more in the East. From
-the minarets and the spire-like wooden towers I heard again the
-notes which call every faithful follower of Islam to prayer; dark-eyed
-women bustled about among the turbaned men, veiling themselves
-anxiously from their country folk, but unveiling inquisitively
-before us, and picking their steps, on account of their dainty but
-not waterproof saffron shoes, along the steps of the houses protected
-by the overhanging eaves. In the uproar of the bazaar young and
-old thronged and bustled without restraint. Everything was just
-as it is in the East. Only the numerous stately churches&mdash;among
-which we saw the convent of “the black Madonna of Kasan not
-made by human hands”, conspicuous both in site and architecture&mdash;were
-out of keeping with the Eastern picture, though they showed
-plainly enough that Christians and Mohammedans were here living
-in mutual tolerance.</p>
-
-<p>On lighter sledges, but over even more unsubstantial highways,
-we journeyed onwards towards Perm and the Ural. The road led
-through Tartar and Russian villages and the fields around them,
-and again through extensive forests. The Tartar villages usually<span class="pagenum" id="Page_394">[Pg 394]</span>
-compared favourably with those of the Russians, not only in the
-absence of swine, which the Tartars hold unclean, but even more in
-the always well-cared-for cemeteries, usually surrounded by lofty
-trees. For the Tartar respects the resting-place of his dead, the
-Russian at most those of his saints. The woodlands, though divided
-up, are really primeval forests, which rise and flourish, grow old
-and disappear, without human interference, for they are too far
-from navigable rivers to be as yet of much commercial value.</p>
-
-<p>Two large rivers, however, the Viatka and the Kama, cross our
-route. The winter holds them bound, though the approach of
-spring is beginning to loosen their fetters. The banks are flooded,
-and the horses of the carriers, who scorn the temporary bridges, are
-now and then forced to swim and to drag the sledge like a boat
-behind them.</p>
-
-<p>Before we reached Perm we had to exchange the sledge for the
-wagon, and in this we trundled along towards the Ural, which separates
-Europe from Asia. The highway leads over long ranges of
-hills, with easy slopes, but gradually ascending. The landscape
-changes; the mountain scenery presents many pictures, which are
-beautiful if they are not grand. Small woods, with fields and
-meadows between, remind us of the spurs of the Styrian Alps.
-Most of the woods are thin and scraggy, like those of Brandenburg,
-others are more luxuriant and varied, and cover wide areas without
-interruption. Here they consist of low pines and birches, and there
-of the same trees mingled with limes, aspens, black and silver poplars,
-above whose rounded crowns the cypress-like tops of the beautiful
-pichta or Siberian silver-fir tapers upwards. On an average the
-villages are larger and the houses more spacious than in the districts
-previously traversed, but the roads are bad beyond all description.
-Thousands of freight wagons creep wearily along, or rather
-in, the deep miry ruts: slowly and painfully we also jog along until,
-after three days’ journeying, we reach the watershed between the
-two great basins of the Volga and the Ob, and learn from the milestone,
-which bears “Europe” on the west side and “Asia” on the
-east, that we have reached the boundary. Amid the clinking of
-glasses we think of our loved ones at home.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_395">[Pg 395]</span></p>
-
-<p>The pleasant town of Yekaterinburg, with its gold-smelting and
-gem-cutting industries, could not long detain us in spite of the
-hospitality of its inhabitants. For the spring was gaining strength,
-and the bridges of ice on the rivers and streams, which we had to
-cross on our way to distant Omsk, were melting and crumbling.
-So we pushed hastily onwards through the Asiatic region of the
-Perm government till we reached its boundary and entered Western
-Siberia.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f62">
-<img src="images/fig62.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 58.&mdash;A Post Station in Siberia.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Here, at the first post-house, we were met by the district officer
-of Tiumen, who greeted us in the name of the governor, and offered
-us escort through his district. In the chief town of the district we
-found the house of one of the rich inhabitants prepared for our
-reception. Thenceforth we were to learn what Russian hospitality
-meant. Hitherto, indeed, we had been everywhere received and
-treated most hospitably, but now the chief officials of the district
-or province exerted themselves unsparingly on our behalf, and
-the best houses were thrown open to us. In fact, we were treated<span class="pagenum" id="Page_396">[Pg 396]</span>
-like princes, simply on account of our scientific mission. Words
-fail me to express our gratitude with adequate warmth. Beyond
-Tiumen, in which we stayed three days, inspecting the prisons of
-the exiles, the tanneries, and other sights of this first Siberian town,
-the peasants showed us their mastery even of the rivers. For
-the approaching spring had melted the ice on the Pyshma and the
-blocks had begun to move; we, however, had to get across before
-this happened. At the village of Romanoffskoye the inhabitants
-with bared heads stood waiting for us on the bank of the Pyshma,
-and even the river had to wait before it was permitted to shake off
-its icy bonds. Boldly and cleverly the peasants had thrown a
-makeshift bridge across the half-melted stream, using a large boat
-as a centre pier, above and around which they had fettered the
-treacherous ice with strong hawsers and ropes. Willing hands unyoked
-the team of five required for our day’s journey, seized spokes
-and axles, and bore one wagon after another across the yielding
-bridge, which groaned and creaked under its burden. The task was
-safely accomplished, and on we went merrily through water and
-snow, mud and mire, over log-roads and ice.</p>
-
-<p>The Tobol, which we wished to cross on Good Friday, the 14th
-April, the first day of true spring, was less accommodating. Here
-also all requisite arrangements had been made to secure our passage:
-one of the wagons was unyoked and rolled on to the ice, but this
-suddenly cracked and split, and forced a hasty retreat. The bells
-on the cross-trees had tinkled merrily when we left Yalutoroffsk;
-they sounded sadly as we drove back again, and it was not till
-Easter-day that we were able to cross the great river with the help
-of a ferry-boat.</p>
-
-<p>So we continued on our way. Before and behind us the rivers
-threw off the yoke of winter; only the dreaded Irtish lay still
-hard-bound and secure under our feet, and thus, after more than a
-month’s journey without further adventure, we reached Omsk, the
-capital of Western Siberia.</p>
-
-<p>After we had seen what was to be seen in Omsk,&mdash;the streets
-and the houses, the military academy, the museum, the hospital,
-the military prison, and so on, we continued our journey toward<span class="pagenum" id="Page_397">[Pg 397]</span>
-Semipalatinsk, along the highway which runs along the right bank
-of the Irtish, connecting the villages of the so-called Cossack line.
-Already, in passing from Yalutoroffsk to Omsk, we had journeyed
-through a steppe&mdash;that of Ishim; now the steppe surrounded us
-on all sides, and almost every night the heavens were red with the
-flames of last year’s grass and herbage, which was now being burnt.
-Troops of migrating birds followed the river directly behind the ice
-as it drifted northwards; crowds of aquatic birds peopled all the
-steppe streams and lakes; various species of lark flew hither and
-thither in flocks; the dainty falcons of the steppe had already betaken
-themselves to their summer quarters; the spring had indeed come.</p>
-
-<p>In Semipalatinsk we had the good fortune to find in the governor,
-General von Poltoratski, a warm friend, ready to aid us in all our
-endeavours, and in his lady the most amiable of hostesses. Not
-content with having secured our hospitable reception, the general
-most kindly proposed to make us acquainted with the Kirghiz, who
-form a great part of the population of his district, and to this end
-organized a great hunting expedition after archars, the wild sheep
-of Siberia, which are almost twice the size of our domestic animals.<a id="FNanchor_81" href="#Footnote_81" class="fnanchor">[80]</a></p>
-
-<p>On the 3rd of May we started on the chase, crossing the Irtish
-and following the post-road to Taschkent, in the Kirghiz steppe.
-After a journey of sixteen hours we reached the region of the chase&mdash;a
-rocky part of the steppe, and soon we were standing before the
-<i>aul</i> or <i>yurt</i>-camp which had been prepared for us. There we were
-welcomed by the general’s wife, who had gone on ahead of us the
-day before, and cordially also by about a score of Kirghiz sultans
-and district governors, and their numerous followers.</p>
-
-<p>During the next three days there was great sport on the Arkat
-mountains. It was holiday with the Kirghiz, who are always eager
-for fun, and it was not less so for us. Hill and valley resounded
-with the hoofs of fourscore or more horsemen, who took part in the
-two-days’ hunt; the sun, when he was pleased to show himself,
-shone down on strange, gay garments which had been hitherto
-hidden under furs; there was a merry bustle over hill and dale.
-The Kirghiz, once so much dreaded, whose very name means robber,
-are now the most faithful and contented Russian subjects, and there<span class="pagenum" id="Page_398">[Pg 398]</span>
-they were with their best horses&mdash;their most precious pacers, their
-tamed golden-eagles, greyhounds, and camels, their zither-musicians
-and impromptu poets, their wrestlers and other gymnasts&mdash;a merry
-crew. They sat together in groups and companies; they darted
-hither and thither, singly or in troops, wheeling their horses in
-sheer high spirits; with the keenest interest they watched the
-wrestling bouts or the boys racing on horseback; they led the chase
-with astuteness and good judgment, and listened with delight to the
-words of the extempore singer who celebrated its fortunes. One of
-the Kirghiz had already killed an archar before our arrival; good
-luck brought a second victim to my rifle. It was this good fortune
-which inspired the poet. His verses were not particularly full of
-ideas, but they were none the less so characteristic that I recorded
-them as a first sample of Kirghiz poetry. While the poet sang, an
-interpreter translated his words into Russian, and the General
-rendered them in German, while I took them down in shorthand:&mdash;</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-
-<p>“Speak, red tongue, speak while thou hast life, for after death thou shalt be dumb.</p>
-
-<p>Speak, red tongue, which God hath given me, for after death thou shalt be silent.</p>
-
-<p>Words such as thou now utterest will no longer flow from thee after death.</p>
-
-<p>I see before me people rising like the mountains, to them I will declare the truth.</p>
-
-<p>I seem to see the rocks and mountains, to the reindeer I would liken them.</p>
-
-<p>Greater are they than boats, like a steamship on the waves of Irtish.</p>
-
-<p>But I see in thee, oh Ruler, after the majesty of the Emperor, the highest, to be compared to a mountain, precious as an ambling reindeer.</p>
-
-<p>It was my mother who bore me, but my tongue hath God given.</p>
-
-<p>If I should not now speak before thee, to whom should I ever speak?</p>
-
-<p>Full freedom have I to speak, let me speak as if to my own folk.</p>
-
-<p>Prosperity to thee, sir, all hail and blessing to thy guests, among them noble men, though they have thus unbent among us.</p>
-
-<p>Each guest of the General is also ours, and assured of our friendship.</p>
-
-<p>God alone gave me my tongue, let me speak further.</p>
-
-<p>On the mountains we saw huntsmen, marksmen, and drivers, but with one only was there good fortune.</p>
-
-<p>As the top of the highest mountain towers above all others, so did he excel all, for he sent two well-aimed balls into the body of the archar and brought it to the yurt.</p>
-
-<p>Every huntsman wished to bring in booty, but only one had his wish fulfilled: to us was joy, and to thee, noble lady, whom I now address.</p>
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_399">[Pg 399]</span>
-<p>All the people are delighted, not the men only, to see thee, to greet thee; all of us wish thee joy, and a thousand years of life and health.</p>
-
-<p>And of thy good pleasure receive our homage. Thou mayest well have seen a better people, but no truer has ever offered greeting and welcome.</p>
-
-<p>May God bless thee, thee and thy house and thy children. I cannot find words enough to praise thee, but God has given me my tongue, and it has spoken, the red tongue, what sprang from the heart.”</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>We left the Arkat mountains, and soon thereafter the district
-governed by our kind host, whom we left at the hunting-ground;
-and very shortly afterwards we were welcomed in Sergiopol, the
-first town in Turkestan, by Colonel Friedrichs, who greeted us in
-the name of the governor of this great province, and gave us escort
-on our way. Kirghiz chiefs became our guard of honour, and supplied
-us with draught-horses which could never before have done
-duty as such, so madly did they at first try to run off with the
-heavy wagon. Kirghiz sultans showed us hospitality, looked after
-our food and shelter, and erected yurts at every place where we
-wished to rest, or were expected to do so. Kirghiz also caught
-snakes and other creeping things for our collections, threw their
-nets on our behalf into the steppe-lakes, and followed us like
-faithful dogs on our hunting expeditions. Thus we journeyed
-through the steppe-land, now gorgeous in the full beauty of spring,
-delaying for a time to hunt and collect at Alakul (“the shining
-lake”), crossing valleys full of blossom and smiling hills, to Lepsa,
-the Cossack settlement on the Alatau, one of the grandest of the
-steppe mountains. We traversed the settled region, a little paradise,
-flowing with milk and honey; ascended the high mountains, rejoicing
-in the rushing torrents, the green Alpine lakes, and the lovely
-vistas, and finally directed our course to the north-east towards the
-Chinese frontier, for the shortest and most convenient route to the
-Altai led us through a portion of the Celestial Empire.</p>
-
-<p>In Bakti, the last Russian outpost, news was brought to us that
-His Ineffability the Jandsun Dyun, the Governor of the province
-Tarabagatai, sent to greet us in the name of China, and invited us
-to a banquet. To meet the hospitable wishes of the noble mandarin,
-we rode on the 21st May to Tchukutchak or Tchautchak, the capital
-of the said province.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_400">[Pg 400]</span></p>
-
-<p>The company which rode through the summer glory of the
-steppe was larger and more splendid than ever. Partly in order to
-have a quite necessary security in a country disquieted by insurrection,
-partly in order to appear with dignity, not to say with pomp,
-before his Highness, we had added to our ranks. For, besides the
-thirty Cossacks from Sachan, under the leadership of our new
-escort, Major Tichanoff, and besides our old Kirghiz friends, we had
-with us a half sotnia of Cossacks from Bakti. The beating hoofs of
-our small army sounded strangely in the otherwise desolate steppe.
-All our Kirghiz were arrayed in holiday dress, and their black, blue,
-yellow, and red kaftans, covered with gold and silver braid, vied
-in sheen and splendour with the uniforms of the Russian officers.
-At the boundary, which had recently been agreed upon, a Chinese
-warrior of high rank waited to greet us. Thereupon he wheeled
-round and galloped off as fast as his horse would bear him to
-inform his commander of our approach. Stumbling over rubbish
-heaps, between half-ruined and half-built houses, but also between
-blossoming gardens, our horses bore us towards the town. There
-apish Mongolian faces grinned at us, and appallingly ugly women
-outraged my sense of beauty. Our cavalcade drew up in front of
-the Governor’s house, and we craved admission at the broad portal.
-Opposite it rose a wall of beautiful workmanship, with some
-strange animal figure in the centre; while to right and left on the
-ground lay some Chinese instruments of torture. An official of the
-house bade us enter, but indicated at the same time that the Cossacks
-and Kirghiz were to remain outside. The governor received us with
-the greatest solemnity in what seemed at once his sitting-room,
-office, and court of justice. Preserving all the dignity of a high
-mandarin, sparse of speech, in fact, uttering but a few disjointed
-words, always accompanied, however, with a cheerful, grinning
-smile, he gave us his hand, and bade us sit down at the breakfast-table.
-This gave promise of tea, and bore innumerable small dishes
-with strange delicacies, and “we raised our hands to the daintily
-prepared meal”. The food consisted of rice, various fruits dried
-and preserved in oil, slices of ham as thin as parchment, dried shrimp-tails,
-and a multitude of unknown, or, at any rate, unrecognizable<span class="pagenum" id="Page_401">[Pg 401]</span>
-tit-bits and sweets; the drinks consisted of excellent tea and sickeningly
-sweet rice-brandy of the strength of spirits of wine. After
-the meal, which I, at least, managed to get through with impunity,
-having fortified myself beforehand with a substantial snack of a
-less doubtful kind, the hookahs were produced, and we were shown
-various intelligible and unintelligible objects of interest in that room
-and the one adjoining. Among these were landscapes and pictures of
-animals, commendatory letters from the government, the great seal
-of state wrapped up with comical carefulness in brightly coloured
-silk, extraordinary arrows of an import which only a Chinese mind
-can fathom, samples of European industry, and so forth. The conversation
-was extremely limited, and unspeakably dignified. Our
-addresses had to be translated from French to Russian, from Russian
-to Kirghiz, and from Kirghiz into Chinese; and the answers had to
-pass through the reverse process. Little wonder, then, that the
-speeches acquired a tone of great solemnity! After breakfast some
-Chinese archers came in to display their warlike valour and skill;
-thereafter the Jandsun himself in all his glory led us to his
-kitchen-garden to let us taste its produce. At length he bade us
-farewell, and we rode again through the streets and markets of the
-town, and found hospitality in the house of a Tartar, where we
-enjoyed an excellent meal, especially graced by the presence of a
-young wife, as pretty as a picture, who was summoned to the men’s
-apartments to do us honour. It was towards sunset that we left
-the town, which is not without historic interest.</p>
-
-<p>Tchukutchak is that town which in 1867, after a prolonged
-siege, fell into the hands of the Dungani, a Mongolian tribe, of
-Mohammedan faith, who had been for long in persistent insurrection
-against the Chinese rule. It was razed to the ground and no
-living creature spared. Of the thirty thousand souls who are said
-to have inhabited the town, over a third had found refuge in flight;
-the rest, confident in the success with which repeated assaults had
-been repulsed, remained to their destruction. When the Dungani
-succeeded in storming the town, they showed the same inhuman
-cruelty which the Chinese had shown to them. What the sword
-did not claim was destroyed by fire. When our escort, Captain<span class="pagenum" id="Page_402">[Pg 402]</span>
-Friedrichs, visited the place some fourteen days after the town had
-been stormed, the clouds of smoke had cleared from the charred
-ruins. Wolves and dogs, with bellies swollen from eating human
-flesh, slunk away sated, or refused to be disturbed in their horrible
-festival, and continued to gnaw at the bones of their old foes or
-masters. Eagles, kites, ravens, and crows shared the spoil. In
-places where the insurgents had made space for themselves, the
-corpses were thrown together in heaps, dozens and hundreds together;
-in other parts of the town, in the streets, courts, and houses,
-corpses lay singly, in couples, in tens,&mdash;husband and wife, great-grandparents,
-grandmothers, mothers, and children, whole families
-and neighbours who had sought refuge with them. Their foreheads
-were gashed with sword-cuts, their features decayed and
-burned, their limbs gnawed and torn by the teeth of dogs and
-wolves, their bodies headless and handless. Whatever horror the
-maddest imagination ever pictured was here realized.</p>
-
-<p>At the present day there are at most a thousand inhabitants in
-Tchukutchak, and the newly-erected battlemented fort is actually
-under the protection of the small Russian picket of Bakti. That
-the Dungani have not yet laid down their arms nor been subdued,
-was sufficiently proved by the recent march of a Chinese army into
-the valley of the Emil, where insurrection is again threatened.</p>
-
-<p>Under the escort of Major Tichanoff and his thirty Cossacks we
-traversed this valley without seeing a single Dungani, indeed without
-meeting a human being for days. The Emil, arising from the
-Zaur, flows between the Tarabagatai and Semistan&mdash;two mountain
-ranges which meet at an acute angle&mdash;and receives numberless small
-tributaries on either side. The genius which the Chinese have for
-irrigation had utilized all the streams, and made a fruitful garden
-of the whole valley till the Dungani broke into and devastated the
-fertile land, and surrendered it once more to the steppe-land from
-which it had been won. In the neighbourhood of the town we
-passed through several small villages, and we came across a Kalmuck
-aul, but apart from these we saw only the ruin of former possession,
-comfort, and industry. Over the fields Nature herself had drawn
-a veil with gentle hand, but the ruined villages, not yet destroyed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_403">[Pg 403]</span>
-by storm and tempest, cried aloud to heaven. When we visited
-these villages, the tragedy of bygone days was appallingly clear.
-Between the crumbling walls, whose roofs had been burnt and
-whose gables had wholly or partially fallen in, on the mouldering
-rubbish over which poisonous fungi ran riot, amid remnants of
-Chinese porcelain, and half-charred and thus preserved plenishings,
-we came everywhere on human remains, crumbling skulls, bones
-broken by the teeth of carnivores, and certain parts of the skeletons
-of domesticated animals, especially of the dog. The skulls still bore
-traces of the heavy blows which shattered them. The inhabitants
-had fallen before the rage of their murderous foes, and the dogs had
-shared the fate of their masters whom they may have been trying
-to protect; the other domestic animals had been driven away,
-plundered like the rest of the useful property, and the apparently
-useless residue had been broken up and burnt. Only two semi-domesticated
-animals remain, the swallow and the sparrow; the rest
-are replaced by ruin-loving birds.</p>
-
-<p>We passed cheerlessly through the desolate valley. Not one of
-the Dungani was to be seen, for behind our thirty Cossacks was the
-great power of Russia. The first human beings we came across
-were Russian Kirghiz, who, though in Chinese territory, were
-pasturing their flocks and tilling their fields as usual, and had even
-erected a monument to one of their dead.</p>
-
-<p>From the valley of the Emil we crossed the Tarabagatai by
-one of the lowest passes of the range, and thence descended to
-the almost flat plateau of Tchilikti, which lies over five thousand
-feet above the sea, surrounded by the Tarabagatai, Zaur, Manrak,
-Terserik, Mustau, and Urkashar. Crossing the plateau, passing some
-enormously large <i>Kurgans</i> or sepulchral mounds of the natives, we
-followed the serpentine valleys of the infinitely irregular Manrak
-mountains in order to reach the plain of Zaizan and the delightful
-town of the same name which had been erected as an outpost some
-four years previously. Here, close to the Chinese-Russian boundary,
-we found European comfort and civilization for the first time since
-leaving Lepsa. In the society which we enjoyed we seemed to be
-back again in St. Petersburg or Berlin. There was talking, playing,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_404">[Pg 404]</span>
-singing, and dancing both within the family circle and in the public
-gardens. The melody of nightingales accompanied the dance and
-song; one forgot where one was.</p>
-
-<p>I used the time of our sojourn here to hunt “ullars”, mountain-fowl
-resembling partridges, but as large as black-cock, and in so
-doing not only became acquainted with the wild grandeur of the
-Manrak mountains, but saw the life of the poorer Kirghiz herdsmen
-in a light new to me, and returned much satisfied with my
-excursion.</p>
-
-<p>On the afternoon of the 31st May we again set off in our wagon,
-making for the Black Irtish in order to meet General Poltoratski at
-an appointed rendezvous in the Altai mountains. We drove rapidly
-through the rich steppe-land, over coal-black soil, and afterwards
-over the drier high-steppes till we came to the river, whose rolling
-waves bore us next day to the lake of Zaizan. Hitherto all the
-Siberian rivers and streams had seemed rather tedious; but on the
-Black Irtish it was far otherwise. We got lovely views of the two
-great mountains&mdash;Zaur and Altai&mdash;and the adjacent ranges, while
-the fresh green banks, cheerful with singing birds, gladdened our
-eyes and ears. A rapid cast of the net brought us an abundant
-catch of delicious fishes, and proved that the river was as rich as it
-was beautiful. On the 2nd June we crossed the shallow and muddy
-lake, exceedingly rich in fishes, but attractive only in the peeps of
-distant scenery which were to be got from its surface, and on the
-next day we traversed the dreariest part of the steppe which we
-had yet seen. Here, however, we made the acquaintance of three
-most noteworthy steppe animals&mdash;the wild horse or kulan, the
-saiga antelope, and Pallas’ sand-grouse. Our Kirghiz secured a kulan
-foal and shot one of the birds. In the evening we rested among
-the spurs of Altai, and next day we met our former hosts at the
-appointed place, and continued our journey under their guidance.</p>
-
-<p>It was a delightful journey, though wind, snow, and rain were
-all too frequent, and robbed the pleasant yurt (which we carried
-with us) of much of its comfort, though torrents barred our path,
-and though we had to find our way along precipitous slopes such as
-at home a chamois-hunter, but certainly no horseman would attempt.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_405">[Pg 405]</span>
-A Russian Governor does not travel like an ordinary mortal, least of
-all when he journeys through uninhabited territory. He is accompanied
-by the district-officers and their subordinates, by the elders
-and clerks of the community, by the <i>elite</i> of the district which he
-visits, by a troop of Cossacks and their officers including the captain,
-by his own servants and those of his escort, &amp;c. And when, as in
-this case, the expedition is to a comparatively unknown country,
-when it is necessary to consult with Kirghiz communities, the
-cavalcade is enormously increased. For not only have yurts and
-tents to be carried, as is usual on steppe journeys, but flocks of
-sheep have to go on in front of the little army to feed the hundreds
-on their way through the barren wilderness. Since leaving the
-Zaizan lake we had been once more in China, and a journey of
-several days had to be faced before we could hope to come across
-human settlements, which are confined to the deeper valleys among
-the mountains.</p>
-
-<p>At first we were accompanied by more than two hundred men,
-mostly Kirghiz, who had been summoned to receive an imperial order
-relating to the suspension of their pasture-rights in the crown-lands
-of the Altai, and to come to an agreement as to consequent changes
-in their wanderings. But even after the deliberations were ended,
-our retinue still numbered over a hundred horses and sixty men.
-In the early morning the yurts were raised from over our heads
-and sent on in front with the baggage; then we followed in companies,
-riding slowly until the ladies, the General’s amiable wife
-and daughter, overtook us. We breakfasted at some suitable spot,
-waited till the last of the pack-horses had gone ahead, and then went
-on, usually reaching our halting-place along with the daily dwindling
-flock of sheep which always started first. Thus, every evening,
-we had an opportunity of watching the pleasant picture of camp-life
-take form before us. Lovely verdant valleys full of spring’s
-fragrance invited us; from the lofty precipitous mountains, still
-snow-capped, we got glimpses of the distant highlands and of the
-steppe-land, which we had traversed, stretching to the Zaur and the
-Tarabagatai; and at last we caught sight of Markakul&mdash;the pearl
-among the mountain lakes of the Altai&mdash;and entered the highlands<span class="pagenum" id="Page_406">[Pg 406]</span>
-proper. For three long days we journeyed along the lake, hindered
-by bad roads and bad weather, and delayed by a Chinese embassy
-sent to the Governor; then we rode through dense forests and over
-scarce surmountable passes, and down by breakneck paths towards
-the Russian frontier, and into the fertile valley of the Buchtarma.
-There in the newly-established Cossack settlement the Altaiskaya-Stanitza,
-we were again able to enjoy Russian hospitality and to
-rest in comfort.</p>
-
-<p>The officers of the Stanitza were kind enough to present us with
-samples of the produce of the district, and we continued our journey
-on the 12th of June. The sun shone cheerfully down from a cloudless
-sky on the splendid landscape, now for the first time unveiled.
-Immense park-like valleys, surrounded by steeply towering, snow-capped
-mountains, suffused with bewitching colours, beautiful trees
-on the meadows, blossoming bushes on the slopes, and an infinite
-wealth of flowers, beautiful beyond description, and as it were
-exultant in the sunlight long denied to them, newly unfolded wild
-roses, the call of the cuckoo and songs from a hundred throats,
-the auls of the Kirghiz in the broader valleys, and the Russian
-villages surrounded by green shrubs, grazing herds, fruitful fields,
-rushing brooks, and jagged rocks, mild air and the balmy fragrance
-breathing of spring&mdash;such were some of the elements which
-intoxicated the senses and made our journey a continual delight.
-Soon we crossed the boundaries of the crown-lands of the Altai,
-a property not much smaller than France! At the end of a
-day’s journey we reached the little town of Serianoffsk with its
-silver mines. After we had been hospitably entertained and had
-inspected all the works, we turned again to the Irtish, and were
-borne by the rapid stream through deep and picturesque gorges
-past Buchtarminsk to Ustkamenogorsk, whence we journeyed in
-wagons once more through these crown-lands which give promise
-of a rich future. Steppe-like plains adjoin the pleasant tracts
-which lie along the spurs of the mountains; extensive forests
-alternate with cultivated land. Large prosperous villages; valuable,
-fertile fields of coal-black soil; well-built men with a
-look of conscious prosperity, beautiful women in picturesque
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_407">[Pg 407]</span>costume, both child-like in their inquisitiveness and in their
-good-nature; excellent, serviceable, untiring horses, and powerful,
-shapely oxen lying at ease in large herds; an endless succession of
-caravans bearing ore and coal along well-made roads, marmots on
-the slopes of the mountains, souslik on the plains, imperial eagles
-on the guide-posts by the highway, charming little gulls on the
-water-basins and about the townships&mdash;such cheerful pictures
-enlivened our route. We hastened through the country as if in
-flight, paying a passing visit to the mining town appropriately<span class="pagenum" id="Page_408">[Pg 408]</span>
-called Schlangenberg (Snake-town), and allowing ourselves but a
-short rest in the country-town of Barnaul. Thence we journeyed
-to the little hill-town of Zalair, and thence to the great government-town
-of Tomsk.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f63">
-<img src="images/fig63.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 59.&mdash;Imperial Eagle, Marmot, and Souslik.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Before we came to Barnaul we had reached the Obi; at Barnaul
-we crossed it, and at Tomsk we embarked on board a boat.
-Through its tributary the Tom we entered this giant river, whose
-basin is larger than that of all the west European rivers taken
-together, and sailed for about 1700 miles, towards the north.
-For four days and nights the river&mdash;flooded to its highest
-water-mark&mdash;bore us at a rate almost twice as quick as a
-steamboat hastening up-stream; we required eleven full days and
-nights to cover the distance between the mouth of the Irtish and
-that of the Shtchutshya, although we only rested a few hours in
-Samarowo and Bereosoff, and did not include in our reckoning the
-two days which we spent in Obdorsk, the last Russian village on
-the river. The river is gigantic and most impressive, dreary and
-monotonous though it be called. In one valley, whose breadth
-varied from six to sixteen miles, it split up into numerous
-branches surrounding countless islands, and often broadening out
-into extensive lake-like shallows; near its mouth the depth of
-water in the main stream&mdash;miles in breadth&mdash;was on an average
-about 90 feet. Primeval forests, hardly broken by clearings, into
-whose heart not even the natives have penetrated, clothed the true
-banks of the river; willow-woods in all stages of growth covered
-the islands, which are continually carved at by the floods, eaten
-away, and built up afresh. The further down we went the poorer
-became the land, the thinner and more scanty the woods, the more
-miserable the villages, though as the river nears its mouth the water
-liberally supplies the food which the land itself denies. Not far
-below Tomsk, beyond Tobolsk, the soil ceases to reward cultivation,
-further down the grazing of cattle gradually ceases; but the river
-teems with shoals of valuable fishes, and the primeval forests along
-its shores yield rich spoil to the huntsman. Fisher-folk and huntsmen
-replace the peasants, and the reindeer herdsmen the cattle
-tenders. Russian settlements become more and more rare, the homes<span class="pagenum" id="Page_410">[Pg 410]</span>
-of the Ostiaks become more frequent, until at length the only
-visible signs of man’s presence are the movable, conical, birch-bark
-huts or “tshums” of the Ostiaks, and occasional exceedingly
-miserable log-huts, the temporary shelters of Russian fishermen.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f64">
-<a href="images/fig64big.jpg">
-<img src="images/fig64.jpg" alt="" />
-</a>
-<p class="caption">Fig. 60.&mdash;An Ostiak Settlement on the Banks of the Obi.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>We had determined to explore a tundra or moss-steppe, and
-had therefore fixed upon the Samoyede peninsula between the Ob
-and the Kara Sea, all the more because a solution of certain important
-commercial problems was to be looked for in this portion of
-the broad treeless zone which encircles the pole&mdash;a region, moreover,
-on which Europeans had scarcely as yet set foot. In Obdorsk and
-further down-stream we hired for this journey several Russians,
-Syryanians, Ostiaks, and Samoyedes, and set out on the 15th of
-July.</p>
-
-<p>From the northern heights of the Ural range, which is here
-represented by lofty mountains, three rivers arise near one another,
-the Ussa, a tributary of the Petchora, the Bodarata, which enters
-the Kara Sea, and the Shtchutshya, which flows into the Obi. It
-was the basin of the last, Shtchutshya, which we determined to
-visit. But no one could tell us what the country was like, how we
-should fare, whether we might hope to find reindeer or be forced to
-go afoot.</p>
-
-<p>To the mouth of the Shtchutshya river we journeyed in the
-usual fashion, paying off our oarsmen at each Ostiak settlement
-and hiring others; when we reached the river our own followers
-began their work. For eight days we worked slowly up the stream,
-following its countless serpentine windings further into the monotonous,
-indeed dismally tedious tundra, now approaching the Ural
-range, and again diverging from it. For eight long days we saw
-no human beings, but only traces of their presence,&mdash;their necessary
-property packed on sledges for the winter, and their burial-places.
-Treacherous swamps on both sides of the river prevented us from
-making inland excursions, and millions of bloodthirsty mosquitoes
-tormented us without ceasing. On the seventh day we saw a dog&mdash;quite
-an event for us and our crew; on the eighth day we came
-upon an inhabited tshum, and in it the only man who could tell us
-about the country before us. We took him with us as a guide,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_411">[Pg 411]</span>
-and with him, three days later, we set out on an expedition which
-proved as dangerous as it was fatiguing.</p>
-
-<p>We were told that reindeer were to be found nine full days’
-journey from us, on the pasturage of Saddabei in the Ural range;
-at this season there was not one to be got near the Shtchutshya.
-There was nothing for it but to set off on foot, and to face, as best
-we might, the difficulties and hardships of a journey through a
-pathless, barren, mosquito-plagued district, altogether hostile to
-man, and worst of all&mdash;unknown!</p>
-
-<p>After careful and prolonged consultation with the natives our
-preparations were made, the burdens which each one was to bear
-were carefully weighed, for the spectre of starvation loomed before
-us. Full well we knew that only the nomad herdsman&mdash;but no
-huntsman&mdash;was able to keep body and soul together on the tundra;
-well we knew by previous experience all the trials of the pathless
-way, all the torments which the army of mosquitoes promised, the
-inconstancy of the weather, and the general inhospitability of the
-tundra, and we made our preparations with due consideration of
-all these. But we could not prepare for what we did not know and
-could not foretell, and for what, in fact, eventually befell us. Not
-that we wished to turn back, though, had we foreseen what was to
-happen, we might well have done so.</p>
-
-<p>Dressed in short fur, heavily laden with knapsack, weapons,
-and ammunition, we set off on the 29th of July, leaving our boat in
-the charge of two of our company. Painfully we tramped, gasping
-under our burdens, stopping every hour and half hour, and at length
-every thousand paces, but finding no rest on account of the
-mosquitoes, which tortured us day and night without ceasing. We
-ascended countless hills, and traversed as many valleys, we waded
-through as many marshes and morasses; we passed by hundreds of
-nameless lakes, and crossed a multitude of swamps and streams.</p>
-
-<p>As it happened, the tundra could not well have been more
-inhospitable. The wind beat the drizzling rain into our faces;
-drenched to the skin we lay down on the soaking soil, without roof
-to cover us, or fire to warm us, and unceasingly tormented by mosquitoes.
-But the sun dried us again, gave us new courage and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_412">[Pg 412]</span>
-strength, and on we went. A piece of good news did us more good
-than sun or sleep. Our followers discovered two tshums, and
-with our field-glasses we distinctly saw the reindeer around them.
-Heartily delighted, we already pictured ourselves stretched comfortably
-in the sledge, the only possible vehicle in such a district,
-and we seemed to see the quickly-stepping antlered team. We
-reached the tshum and the reindeer; a dismal sight met our eyes.
-For among the herds splenic fever was raging&mdash;the most dreadful,
-and for man also the most dangerous of plagues, the most inexorable
-messenger of death, unsparing and merciless. Against its ruin-bringing
-attacks man is powerless; it reduces peoples to poverty,
-and claims its victims as surely from among men as among beasts.<a id="FNanchor_82" href="#Footnote_82" class="fnanchor">[81]</a></p>
-
-<p>I counted seventy-six dead reindeer in the immediate neighbourhood
-of the tshum. Wherever the eye turned it lighted on
-carcasses or on beasts, both young and old, lying at their last gasp.
-Others came, with death at their heart, to the sledges already
-loaded for departure, as if they hoped to find help and safety in
-the neighbourhood of man. They would not be driven away, but
-remained stock-still for a couple of minutes with staring eyes and
-crossed fore-legs, then swayed from side to side, groaned and fell;
-a white foam issued from mouth and nose, a few convulsions, and
-another was dead. Milk-giving mothers and their calves separated
-themselves from the herd; the mothers succumbed with similar
-symptoms; the calves looked on curiously, as if amazed at their
-mother’s strange behaviour, or grazed unconcernedly beside the
-death-bed. When they came near, and found instead of their
-devoted mother a corpse, they snuffed at this, recoiled in terror,
-and hastened away, straying hither and thither and crying. They
-sought to approach one or other of the adults, but were repulsed
-by all, and continued lowing and searching until they found what
-they did not seek&mdash;death, from an arrow sped by the hand of their
-owner, who sought to save at least their skin. Death was equally
-unsparing of old and young; before the destroying angel the
-strongest and stateliest stags fell as surely as the yearlings of both
-sexes.</p>
-
-<p>Schungei, the owner of the herd, his relatives and servants,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_413">[Pg 413]</span>
-hurried to and fro among the dead and dying beasts, seeking with
-mad eagerness to save whatever was possible. Although not unaware
-of the dreadful danger to which they exposed themselves if
-the minutest drop of blood or a particle of the infected foam should
-enter their system, knowing well that hundreds of their race had
-died in agony from the incurable plague, they worked with all
-their strength skinning the poisoned corpses. A blow from a
-hatchet ended the sufferings of the dying deer, an arrow killed the
-calves, and in a few minutes the skin&mdash;which for weeks is quite
-capable of spreading the infection&mdash;was off and lying beside the
-others. With blood-stained hands the men dipped morsels cut
-from the bodies of the calves into the blood collected in the chest-cavity,
-and swallowed them raw. The men seemed like executioners,
-the women like horrible harpies, and both like blood-smeared
-hyænas wallowing in carrion. Careless of the sword of death
-which hung over their heads, rather by a gossamer thread than by
-a hair, they grubbed and wallowed, helped even by their children,
-from half-grown boys down to a little girl hardly more than a
-suckling.</p>
-
-<p>The tshums were shifted to an adjacent hill. The unfortunate
-herd, which had started from the Ural two thousand strong, and had
-now dwindled to a couple of hundred, whose path was marked by a
-line of carcasses, was collected afresh around the tshum; but next
-morning there were again forty corpses around the resting-place.</p>
-
-<p>We knew the danger of infection from animals with splenic
-fever or anthrax, but we had not adequately appreciated its extent.
-Thus we bought some fresh, apparently quite healthy reindeer,
-harnessed them to three sledges, loaded these with our baggage,
-and striding beside them went on our way lightened. The plague
-forbade us from getting reindeer flesh to eat, as we had hoped,
-and we began to look around more carefully and anxiously for some
-small game, a willow grouse, a great snipe, a golden plover, or a
-duck. Sparing our slender supplies to the utmost, we crouched
-around the miserable fire, whenever the least of Diana’s nymphs had
-been propitious, and collectively roasted our paltry spoil as best we
-might. Of satisfying our hunger there was no longer any possibility.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_414">[Pg 414]</span></p>
-
-<p>After we had crossed the way of death which Schungei had
-followed, we reached the first goal, the Bodarata. There we had
-the inestimable good fortune to find more tshums and reindeer.
-Thus aided we made for the sea, but we were forced to turn without
-setting foot on the shore. For before us lay not only a pathless
-morass, but again a countless heap of reindeer carcasses; we were
-once more on the path by which Schungei had fled homewards, and
-our new acquaintance, the herdsman Zanda, would not dare to
-cross it.</p>
-
-<p>For in his herd also death had been busy with his scythe; the
-destroyer had visited his house, and yet more disastrously those
-of his neighbours. The man who had been his companion on his
-wanderings had eaten of an infected fat reindeer which he had
-hastily killed, and he had paid for his rashness with his own life
-and that of his family. Thrice had the herd Zanda shifted his
-tshum, and thrice he had dug a grave among the corpses of the
-reindeer. First, two children fell victims to the dread disease, then
-the thoughtless man’s servant, on the third day the man himself.
-Another child was still ill, groaning in its agony, when we set out
-on our journey to the sea; its cries were silenced when we returned
-to the tshum, for the grave had received a fifth victim. And this
-was not to be the last.</p>
-
-<p>One of our men, the Ostiak Hadt, a willing, cheerful fellow,
-who had endeared himself to us, had been complaining since the
-day before of torturing pains which became ever more severe. He
-complained especially of an increasing sensation of cold. We had
-placed him on one of the sledges when we reached the herdsman’s
-tshum, and thus we bore him when the tshum was shifted for
-the fifth time. He lay at the fire moaning and whining in our
-midst. From time to time he raised himself and bared his body to
-the warmth of the fire. Similarly he pushed his numb feet against
-the flames, and seemed to care not that they singed. At length we
-fell asleep, perhaps he did also, but when we awoke next morning
-his bed was empty. Outside, in front of the tshum, he sat quietly
-leaning on a sledge, with his face to the sun, whose warmth he
-sought. Hadt was dead.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_415">[Pg 415]</span></p>
-
-<p>Some hours later we buried him according to the customs of
-his people. He was a true “heathen”, and in heathenish fashion
-he should be buried. Our “orthodox” companions hesitated to do
-this; our “heathen” followers helped us in the ceremony, which,
-though not Christian, was at any rate dignified and human. The
-grave received its sixth victim.</p>
-
-<p>Should this be the last? Involuntarily this question arose; it
-was gruesome for us all to have death as a travelling companion.
-Fortunately for us, Hadt’s grave was the last on this journey.</p>
-
-<p>Seriously, very seriously, still oppressed by increasing dearth of
-provisions, we turned again towards the Shtchutshya. Zanda provided
-a scant diet for our followers, while we relied on what we
-could shoot, and were pinched enough. But one forenoon we captured
-a family of geese, and shot several willow grouse, snipe, and
-plovers, and celebrated a feast, for it was pleasant to be able to eat
-without counting the mouthfuls. But without the help of our host
-it would hardly have been possible for us to have survived.</p>
-
-<p>We reached the river, and, almost at the end of our stores, we
-regained our boat. Here we feasted on fare which was poor enough,
-though, after a fortnight’s privation, it seemed most sumptuous.
-We said farewell for ever to the tundra.</p>
-
-<p>A Shaman, whom we had found busy fishing further up the
-Obi, and had asked to give us a sample of his art and wisdom, had
-duly beaten his dull-sounding drum to summon Yamaul, the messenger
-of the gods, who befriended him, and had told us that we
-should next year revisit the inhospitable country which we had
-just left, but that we should then go to the region where the
-Shtchutshya, Bodarata, and Ussa have their source. For two
-emperors would reward us, and the elders of our people would be
-satisfied with our report, and send us forth again. Moreover, on our
-journey no further misfortune would befall us. So the messenger
-of the gods, perceived by him alone, had said.</p>
-
-<p>The last part of his prophecy was true enough. Slowly but
-without mishap or accident we journeyed for twenty-three days up
-the Obi, and after long delay we fortunately reached a steamboat,
-on which we ascended the Irtish for three days. Without misfortune,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_416">[Pg 416]</span>
-though not without hindrance, we crossed the Ural, in a comfortable
-steamer we glided swiftly down the Kama, more slowly
-we ascended the Volga. In Nijni-Novgorod, in Moscow, in St.
-Petersburg, we were hospitably received, as before, and were joyously
-welcomed at home. Our “elders” seem to have been well
-pleased with our report, but to the tundra I at least shall never
-return.</p>
-
-
-<hr class="full x-ebookmaker-drop" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="c16">THE HEATHEN OSTIAKS.</h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>The struggle for existence which man has to maintain in
-Siberia is easy and toilless now, and will probably remain so for
-centuries to come&mdash;easy and toilless especially among the lavishly
-endowed lands in the south of the country, and not too hard or
-laborious even in those regions which we are wont to picture as an
-icy waste, an inhospitable desert, which we still regard in this
-light if we only travel hastily and unwillingly through them. In
-the far north of West Siberia the climate is harsh and severe; the
-earth which, a little below the surface, is frozen and stiffened for
-ever, refuses to bring forth fruit; the sun will not ripen the bread-yielding
-grain; but even here Nature has bountifully shaken her
-horn of plenty, for what the land denies, is yielded by the water.
-The people who have dwelt for centuries in these latitudes, which
-we so carefully avoid, may appear poor and miserable in our eyes;
-in reality they are neither. They are able to procure all they
-need; they can even secure many luxuries, for their country yields
-them much more than is enough merely to sustain life. They do
-of course struggle, more or less consciously, for “an existence
-worthy of man”, but not with any grudge, outspoken or suppressed,
-against those whose lot is happier. Indeed they are happier than
-we think, for they are more modest, more easily satisfied than we
-are; they are utterly ignorant of what we call passion in the
-stricter sense; they accept the pleasures within their reach with a
-childlike joy, and the sorrows which visit them, with that deeply
-felt but quickly forgotten grief which is characteristic of childhood.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_417">[Pg 417]</span>
-Black care may stand beside their bed; but they banish it whenever
-they perceive a ray of joy, and they forget affliction whenever the
-sun of good fortune once more shines upon them. They rejoice in
-wealth and complain of poverty, but they see their riches disappear
-without giving way to despair, and their poverty turn to wealth
-without losing their equanimity. Even in mature age they remain
-children in thought, feeling, and behaviour; they are happier than
-we.</p>
-
-<p>The Ostiaks with whom we came most frequently in contact
-on the lower Obi, whose society we preferred, and whom we learned
-to know best, belong to the Finnish family, and profess the same
-religion as another branch of the same family, the Samoyedes,
-while their manners, customs, and way of life generally, are
-approximately the same as those of all the Finns in a restricted
-sense, and therefore also of the Lapps. They are wandering herdsmen
-and fisher-folk, huntsmen and fowlers, like the Samoyedes
-and like the Lapps. Apart from their religion, and perhaps also
-their language, they resemble the Lapps more than the Samoyedes,
-for there are among them dwellers in fixed homes as well as nomadic
-herdsmen, while the Samoyedes, even when engaged in fishing, very
-rarely exchange their movable hut for a fixed log-house, at least
-in the parts of Siberia through which we travelled.</p>
-
-<p>It may be that the Ostiak tribe was more numerous at one
-time than it is now, but it was probably never a people in our
-sense of the word. In some parts of the territory inhabited, or at
-least traversed by them, the population is said to be continually
-decreasing, while in others it is slightly on the increase; but the
-extent of increase or decrease seems inconsiderable. To reckon
-the whole number of these people at fifty thousand individuals is
-probably a high estimate. In the whole of the great district of
-Obdorsk, which extends from 65 degrees northern latitude to the
-northern end of the Samoyede peninsula, and from the Ural to the
-upper Chass river, there live at present, according to official statistics,
-not more than five thousand three hundred and eighty-two male
-Ostiaks, of whom not more than one thousand three hundred and
-seventy-six are able-bodied or assessable men. If we take for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_418">[Pg 418]</span>
-granted that there are as many women and girls, the whole number
-does not reach eleven thousand; and the above estimate is
-rather too high than too low, even though the tract inhabited by
-our people extends up the Obi to the district of Surgut, and up the
-Irtish to the neighbourhood of Tobolsk.</p>
-
-<p>All the Ostiaks on the upper Irtish and middle Obi live in fixed
-log-houses, very simple, but resembling those of the Russians, and only
-here and there among these permanent dwellings, which indicate a
-higher degree of civilization, do we come upon a birch-bark tent
-or tshum. On the other hand, on the lower Obi, and especially
-between Obdorsk and the mouth of the stream, only birch-tents are
-to be seen, and they are, naturally, the only homes of the nomadic
-reindeer herdsman. Almost, if not exactly in agreement with this
-difference in dwelling, is the difference in religion, for the Ostiaks
-inhabiting settled villages belong to the Orthodox Greek Catholic
-Church, and are reckoned among its members, as they have been
-baptized, while those dwelling in the tshum are still true to their
-ancient faith, which, although regarded by the Russian priests and
-their followers as blind heathenism, is by no means devoid of poetic
-grandeur, still less of moral worth. The tent-dwellers certainly
-practise their religion with more ardour and conviction than the
-settled villagers do their so-called Christianity, which, as far as can
-be observed, seems to an unbiassed onlooker rather a superstitious
-idolatry than a nobler substitute for the religion which grew out of
-a childlike mood, and finds expression in childlike ways. With the
-adoption of log-houses and of Christianity, the Ostiaks of the
-central Obi and lower Irtish regions have, to a certain extent, given
-up their own dress in favour of that of the neighbouring Russian
-fisher-folk, and in their intercourse with these, have adopted many of
-their manners and customs. In part, too, they have lost their
-purity of race, and have retained only the inalienable characteristics,
-the language and all peculiarities preserved by it, perhaps also the
-skill, dexterity, and harmless good-nature common to all the
-Ostiaks. But one cannot venture to assert that their morals have
-improved with their civilization, or that their purity of life has
-increased with Christianity; and in any case it is more satisfactory<span class="pagenum" id="Page_421">[Pg 421]</span>
-to get to know the heathen Ostiaks, and to come into close contact
-with a still primitive people, than to concern ourselves with that
-portion of the tribe which gives us but a dim picture of what they
-once were, or others still are. I shall, therefore, limit my remarks
-to a consideration of those Ostiaks who worship the divinity Ohrt,
-who live in polygamy when their means permit, who bury their
-dead exactly as their fathers did. My sketch will lose nothing, and
-will gain in unity, if it takes account of these alone, and leaves the
-others out.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f65">
-<a href="images/fig65big.jpg">
-<img src="images/fig65.jpg" alt="" />
-</a>
-<p class="caption">Fig. 61.&mdash;Huts and Winter Costume of the Christian Ostiaks.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>It is difficult to speak of a common type among the Ostiaks,
-and still more difficult to describe it. I have repeatedly attempted
-to do this, but have always been forced to recognize the impossibility
-of adequately describing a face in words, or of satisfactorily
-delineating with the pen those tribal peculiarities which are evident
-enough to the eye. In shape of face, colour of skin, hair, and eyes,
-they vary greatly; their racial affinity, that is, their Mongol origin,
-is by no means always very apparent, in fact, it is often difficult to
-detect, and when at last one imagines one has formulated certain
-definite average characteristics, one learns from other members of
-the same stock that their applicability is only relative and by no
-means unconditional. In what follows I shall attempt to give a
-comprehensive idea of what I saw among the Ostiaks whom we
-observed.</p>
-
-<p>The Ostiaks are of middle height, somewhat slender in general
-build, their hands, feet, and limbs generally well-proportioned, the
-hands perhaps rather large, the calves of the legs almost always thin;
-their features seem intermediate between those of the other Mongols
-and those of the North American Indians: for their brown eyes are
-small and always set obliquely, though by no means very strikingly
-so; the cheek-bones are not very prominent, but the lower portion of
-the face is so compressed towards the narrow pointed chin that the
-whole has an angular appearance, indeed, as the lips are also sharply
-cut, it is often really cat-like, especially among women and children,
-though the nose is, on the whole, slightly, and in many cases not at
-all flattened. The rich, smooth, but not stiff, hair is usually dark
-brown or black, rarely light brown, and still more rarely blonde; the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_422">[Pg 422]</span>
-beard is scanty, but this is chiefly in consequence of the habit young
-dandies have of pulling out the hairs; the eyebrows are thick, often
-bushy. The colour of the skin is not much less white than that of
-a European who is much in the open air and exposed to wind and
-weather, and the yellowish look which it usually has is sometimes
-entirely awanting.</p>
-
-<p>Though the above holds good of most Ostiaks, I do not mean to
-imply that one can have any doubt about their racial affinities if
-one examines them closely. In a few individuals the Mongolian
-traits are apparent on the most cursory glance; these types are
-small in stature, the lively brown eyes are elongated and obliquely
-set, the cheek-bones are very prominent, the stiff hair is deep black,
-and all the exposed parts of the body have a decided copper-red or
-leather-brown colour.</p>
-
-<p>I can offer no opinion as to the language of the Ostiaks; I can
-only say that it embraces two dialects which can be readily distinguished
-even by strangers. That in use on the middle Obi is
-euphonious, if somewhat drawling and sing-song, while that prevailing
-on the lower Obi, probably because of the general habit of
-preferring the softer Samoyede tongue, is much more rapid and
-flowing, though there is still distinct enunciation of the syllables.</p>
-
-<p>The Christian Ostiaks, as has already been mentioned, imitate
-the dress of the Russians, and the clothing of their women only
-differs from that of the Russian fisher-women in being decorated in
-many places with glass beads, and in the addition of special sash-like
-ribbons, like the stole of a Catholic priest, embroidered all over
-with such beads. The heathen Ostiaks, on the other hand, use nothing
-but the skin of the reindeer for clothing, and only employ the furs
-of other animals for the occasional decoration of the reindeer, or, as
-the Russians call them, stag skins. Their dress consists of a close-fitting
-skin coat reaching to the knee; in the men it is slit down the
-breast, in the women it is open down the whole front, but held
-together with leather thongs; a hood of the same material is usually
-attached to or forms part of the dress; mittens also are sewn on;
-leather breeches reach below the knee; and leather stockings,
-which fasten over the knee, complete the attire. The fur garment<span class="pagenum" id="Page_423">[Pg 423]</span>
-worn by the women is edged down the sides of the opening
-with a carefully pieced border of variously-coloured little squares
-of short-haired fur, and has always a broad band of dog-skin
-round the foot; that worn by the men has at most a border of
-dog-skin, and has always a hood; the leather stockings, if they
-are decorated at all, are composed of many prettily-combined,
-diversely-coloured stripes of skin from the leg of a reindeer, with
-a stout shoe partly sewn on, partly laced over the foot. A broad
-leather belt, usually studded with metal buttons, confines the man’s
-garment at the waist and holds his knife; a gaily-coloured head-wrap,
-with long fringes, which replaces the hood in summer, falls
-down over the woman’s dress. Shirts are unknown; but, on the
-other hand, the woman wears a girdle, of a kind unknown among
-us. By way of ornament, the woman puts on her fingers as many
-brass, or, where circumstances permit, silver rings as the lower joint
-will wear, so that that portion of the hand is literally mailed; a
-more or less handsome string of glass beads is hung round the neck,
-and very heavy tassel-like ear-rings of glass beads, twisted wire,
-and metal buttons, are hung rather over than in the ear; finally,
-the hair is plaited into two rope-like braids reaching to the middle
-of the calf, and interwoven with woollen threads. The Ostiak
-dandy dresses his hair in the same way&mdash;a proof that fools are alike
-all the world over&mdash;while the ordinary man usually wears his hair
-long, but loose.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f66">
-<img src="images/fig66.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 62.&mdash;“Heathen” Ostiaks, Reindeer, and Tshums.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Still simpler than the dress, but equally well adapted to its purpose,&mdash;for
-their costume, though not beautiful, is suited alike for
-summer and winter use,&mdash;is the dwelling of the Ostiak, a cone-shaped,
-movable hut covered with birch-bark, the tshum of the
-fisher-folk and wandering herdsmen. The framework is formed of
-twenty or thirty thin, smooth poles, from four to six yards in
-length, and pointed at both ends. These are fixed in a circle, which
-is very exact though measured only by the eye, two of them bent
-towards each other are fastened near their tops with a short cord,
-and serve as a support for all the rest. The outer covering consists
-of from five to eight sheets cut to the convex curve of the cone,
-and composed of little pieces of birch-bark previously boiled and
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_424">[Pg 424]</span>thus rendered pliant. On the least exposed side is an opening
-which serves as a door, and which can be closed at will with
-another sheet of bark; the pointed top of the tent is always
-left uncovered to admit of the free passage of smoke. From the
-door straight to the opposite side of the hut runs a passage, in the
-middle of which the fire is built; over this two horizontal poles,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_425">[Pg 425]</span>
-fastened to the supports of the hut, serve as a drying-stand, from
-which also the cooking-kettle hangs. To right and left of the
-passage, boards, or at least mats, are laid down, and serve as flooring
-and also to mark off the sleeping places, whose head-end is
-towards the wall. Mats, made of bundles of sedge, long-haired,
-soft reindeer skins, and cushions stuffed with reindeer hair or dried
-moss, form the bed, and its coverings are of fur. A mosquito tent,
-under which the whole family creeps in summer, protects the sleepers
-more effectually against the winged tormentors than the smoky
-fire of rotten willow wood which is kept constantly burning in the
-entrance of the tshum. Cooking vessels, tea and drinking kettles,
-bowls, leather bags for holding flour and hard-baked bread, little
-chests with locks for holding the most valuable possessions, especially
-the tea-set, an axe, a gimlet, leather scrapers, a bowl-like work-box,
-a bow, crossbow or gun, snow-shoes, and various implements
-of the chase, make up the domestic plenishings. A household god
-replaces the crucifix, which is rarely absent from the huts of the
-Christian Ostiaks.</p>
-
-<p>The tshum is protected against the cold and storms of winter
-by a leather covering of worn-out skins sewn together, or, more
-effectually, by spreading a second layer of sheets of birch-bark over
-the first.</p>
-
-<p>If the owner of the tshum be a fisherman, one may see in front
-of his dwelling drying-stands for hanging up the nets, and others
-for drying fish, all very carefully made; also exceedingly light,
-daintily-wrought fishing-baskets, several excellent little boats, and
-other fishing apparatus; if he be also a huntsman there are in
-addition all kinds of implements of the chase, such as bows and
-spring-crossbows; if he be a reindeer-herdsman there are several
-well-made sledges with their appropriate harness, and the boat
-which is also indispensable.</p>
-
-<p>Every Ostiak is experienced in fishing, almost all hunt or set
-snares, but not all are herdsmen. To possess reindeer means, among
-them, to be well-to-do, to possess many is to be rich; to live by fishing
-alone is poverty. Horses and cows are to be seen in some of
-their settlements, though in very small numbers, and only in the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_426">[Pg 426]</span>
-district about the middle of the river-basin; sheep, and sometimes
-even a cat may be kept; but the real domestic animals are the reindeer
-and dog. Without these, especially without the reindeer, a
-well-to-do man would scarcely think life possible, and it is indeed
-to them he owes all that makes up what he looks on as the joy of
-existence. As the Bedouin, the wandering herdsman of Central
-Africa, deems himself superior to those of his race who till the
-fields; as the Kirghiz looks down almost contemptuously on those
-who strive to wrest subsistence from the soil, so the possessor, or
-even the herdsman of reindeer, only uses net and hook to supply his
-own necessities, while the fisherman casts his nets and sets his
-baskets not for himself alone, but in the service of others. The
-wealth of a man is calculated by the number of his reindeer; with
-them his prosperity and his happiness are alike bound up. And
-when the deadly murrain annihilates his herds, he loses not wealth
-and happiness alone, but much more: esteem and rank, self-respect
-and confidence, even, it may be, his religion, manners, and morals,
-in short&mdash;himself. “As long as the plague did not ravage our
-herds,” said the district governor, Mamru, the most intelligent
-Ostiak whom we met, “we lived joyously and were rich, but since
-we have begun to lose them, we are gradually becoming poor fishermen;
-without the reindeer we cannot hold out, we cannot live.”
-Poor Ostiaks! in these words your doom is pronounced. Even now
-the reindeer, which once were counted by hundreds of thousands,
-have dwindled to a total of fifty thousand, and still the Destroying
-Angel passes almost yearly through the antlered herds. What will
-be the end? The Russian priests will gain more and more Christians,
-the Russian fishermen more and more hirelings, but the Ostiaks will
-be Ostiaks only in name, and that at no far distant time.<a id="FNanchor_83" href="#Footnote_83" class="fnanchor">[82]</a></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f67">
-<a href="images/fig67big.jpg">
-<img src="images/fig67.jpg" alt="" />
-</a>
-<p class="caption">Fig. 63.&mdash;Ostiaks with Reindeer and Sledge.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>The reindeer of Northern Asia is an essentially different creature
-from that of Lapland, for it is not only larger and more stately, but
-it is a domestic animal in the best sense of that term. We all imagined
-we knew the reindeer; for in Lapland we had examined it
-precisely and carefully with the eye of the naturalist; but in Siberia
-we were obliged to admit that till then we had gained a very imperfect
-idea of this most remarkable of domestic animals. In Lapland<span class="pagenum" id="Page_429">[Pg 429]</span>
-we had known the deer ceaselessly resisting, submitting with visible
-reluctance to the yoke of the little men, and always apparently bent
-on regaining its freedom; here in Siberia we found a docile, willing
-animal, attached to man, and trusting in him. Certainly the Ostiak
-knows well how to deal with it. Though he does not treat it with
-the tenderness he bestows on his dog, he is, on the whole, not
-unkind to it, and he is very rarely rough or brutal. Unlike the
-Laplander, he refrains from milking it, but he harnesses it more
-frequently; for, winter and summer, it must draw him and his
-family, the tshum with its appurtenances, and all the other requisites
-for the continual migrations. The Lapp, on the other hand, only
-harnesses the reindeer to his sledge in winter. Like the Lapp, the
-Ostiak makes use of every portion of the carcase of a slaughtered
-animal, with the sole exception of the stomach and intestines. The
-flesh serves him as food, the bones and horns make all sorts of
-implements, the tendons supply twine for sewing his clothing, that,
-and whatever else he requires in the way of leather, is furnished
-by the skin; even the hoofs are utilized. On a light sledge, drawn
-by the reindeer, the Ostiak travels, in summer and in winter, from
-place to place&mdash;to weddings, to festivals, to the chase, and to the
-burial of his friends; with it he draws his dead to their last resting-place;
-he slaughters the reindeer and eats it with his guests, or in
-honour of his dead, whom he wraps up in its skin, as he does
-himself. Truly, without the reindeer he cannot endure, cannot live.</p>
-
-<p>Of scarcely less importance than his horned herds is the Ostiak’s
-second domestic animal, the dog. It is possessed and cared for not
-only by the wandering herdsman, but by every Ostiak&mdash;fisher as
-well as huntsman, settler as well as nomad. The Ostiak dog is
-represented by two different breeds, whose chief difference, however,
-is only in size. Whether our dog-fanciers would find it beautiful I
-cannot say. For my part, I must pronounce it beautiful, because,
-with the sole exception of the colour, it possesses all the characteristics
-of a wild dog. It most resembles the Pomeranian dog, but is
-usually larger; indeed, it is often so large as to approach the wolf
-in size; and its slender build also distinguishes it from the Pomeranian.
-The head is elongated, the muzzle moderately long, the neck<span class="pagenum" id="Page_430">[Pg 430]</span>
-short, the body long, the limbs slender, the tail moderately long, the
-brassy eyes obliquely set, the short pointed ears held erect, the hair
-extraordinarily long and thick, consisting of a mixture of decidedly
-woolly and bristly hairs. The colour varies, but is predominantly
-pure white, or white with deep black, usually regular markings on
-both sides of the head, including the ears, on the back and on the
-sides of the body; or it may be wolf or mouse gray, or dun-coloured,
-watered and waved, but never striped. The slightly bushy tail is
-always carried hanging, or extended, but never curled, and the resemblance
-to a wild dog is thereby greatly increased.</p>
-
-<p>Constant and intimate association with man has transformed
-the Ostiak dog into an exceedingly good-natured animal. He is
-watchful but not given to biting, brave but not pugnacious, faithful
-and eager but not hostile to strangers nor violent. Though he hastens
-suspiciously, if not exactly with unfriendliness, towards a stranger,
-he becomes confiding as soon as he hears him speak with his master,
-or sees him step into the tshum. He is in no way pampered, for
-though he loves to share the dwelling of his master or mistress, he
-exposes himself without apparent discomfort to wind and weather,
-throws himself unhesitatingly into the cold water of the river and
-swims straight across a broad arm, or, when on a journey, trots on
-uncomplainingly under the sledge to which he is chained, whether
-the way lead over bog or morass, among dwarf-birch bushes or
-through water. Intelligent and cunning, ingenious and inventive,
-clever and active, he knows how to make his life comfortable, and
-to adapt himself to all situations. In the tshum he lies self-denyingly
-beside much-desired foods; outside of his master’s hut he is a
-bold and greedy thief; among the dwarf-birches of the tundra he
-trots indifferently under the sledge, but over smooth or other easy
-ground he places himself with all four legs together on the runners
-of the sledge and lets himself be carried. While hunting he is a
-faithful and useful assistant to his master, but he snaps away the
-game which he has scented and a stranger shot, and devours it
-with such an air of inoffensive enjoyment that one cannot be angry
-with him. In tending the herds he shows himself acquainted with
-all the peculiarities and tricks of the reindeer, and he is docile enough;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_431">[Pg 431]</span>
-but he is never quite so trustworthy as our sheep-dog, for he allows
-himself an opinion of his own, and only yields his services without
-resisting when it appears to him absolutely necessary.</p>
-
-<p>The Ostiak dog is at once playmate, sentinel of the tshum,
-guardian of the herds, and draught animal, and he is made use of
-even after death. He is only harnessed to the sledge in winter, but
-the harness is so awkward that if he has to exert himself much he
-becomes in a few years weak in the loins or hip-shot. After death
-his splendid coat is much prized; indeed, many of the Ostiaks
-evidently keep a disproportionately large number of dogs solely to
-have skins at their disposal every winter.</p>
-
-<p>It is probably for the same or some similar reason that the
-various mammals and birds, such as foxes, bears, owls, crows, cranes,
-swans, &amp;c., which one sees chained in or before the tent of the fisherman
-or the herdsman, are taken from the nest and reared. As long
-as they are young they are tended carefully and kindly; whenever
-they are full-grown and in good fur or feather they are killed, the
-edible parts are eaten, and the skin or feathers made use of
-or sold, the former especially often fetching an astonishingly high
-price.</p>
-
-<p>Here, as everywhere else, the dog submits to man’s will, but man
-must adapt himself to the requirements of the reindeer. These requirements,
-and not the will or humour of the herdsman, determine
-the wanderings of the nomad Ostiak, as the coming and going of the
-fishes influences the doings of his relatives in fixed abodes, to a considerable
-extent at least. The migrations of the reindeer herdsmen
-and their herds take place for almost the same reasons and in the
-same direction as those of the Kirghiz, and are distinguished from
-them chiefly by the fact that they do not cease in winter, but
-rather become more constant and varied. When the snow begins
-to melt, the Ostiak herdsman travels slowly towards the mountains;
-when the mosquito plague begins he ascends their sides, or at least
-betakes himself to the shoulders of the ranges; when it ceases again&mdash;and
-even the open heights are not entirely free from it&mdash;he
-gradually descends to the low tundra to pass the winter, if possible
-on his native river-bank. This is the course of his life one year<span class="pagenum" id="Page_432">[Pg 432]</span>
-after another, unless he is visited by that most terrible of disasters,
-the reindeer plague.</p>
-
-<p>Before the short summer comes to the inhospitable land, before
-even the first breath of spring is stirring, when a thick sheet of ice
-lies still unbroken over the mighty river, its tributaries, and the
-innumerable lakes of the tundra, the reindeer bring forth their
-calves; it is therefore more than ever necessary to seek out a place
-which offers sufficient pasture for both mothers and young. Our
-herdsman migrates, therefore, not to the deepest valleys, but to the
-heights from whose crests the raging storms of winter have blown
-away much of the snow, and here, in the best available spot, he
-erects his tshum. For days, even weeks, he remains there until all
-the exposed reindeer moss has been eaten up, and the broad hoof of
-the reindeer itself, which has been used to clear away the snow,
-almost refuses duty. Then the herdsman breaks up his camp, and
-wends his way to some not far distant spot, which offers the same
-attractions as the first. Here, too, he remains until pasturage
-becomes too scarce, for this is still what he looks on as the good
-season. The herds feed in dense troops; among the stags, whose
-antlers have just begun to sprout, the deepest peace reigns; the
-calves are never lost sight of by their anxious parents; the herd
-neither scatters nor wanders out of hearing of the loud call which
-summons them to the tshum at sundown. At night, indeed, the
-greedy wolf, which has been driven by winter from the mountains,
-prowls around them, but the brave dogs keep sharp watch, and
-resist the cowardly robber; and our herdsman therefore is as little
-troubled about the wolves as he is about winter, which he, like all
-the peoples of the far north, looks on as the best season of the year.
-The days&mdash;still very short&mdash;are gradually lengthening, the nights
-becoming shorter, and the dangers threatening his defenceless
-herds are gradually diminishing. The river throws off its winter
-covering; and with the floods warmed in the steppes of the south,
-soft winds blow through the land; one hill-top after another is laid
-bare of snow, and here, as well as in the valleys, where the buds
-are sprouting luxuriantly, the weather-hardened animals find food
-in abundance. The low tundra has become a paradise in the eyes<span class="pagenum" id="Page_433">[Pg 433]</span>
-of our herdsman. But this comfortable life lasts only a short time.
-The quickly-rising sun, which shines longer and becomes hotter
-every day, soon melts the snow in the more level valleys and the
-ice in the broad lakes, thaws even the surface of the frozen earth,
-and calls into life, along with other harmless children of the spring,
-milliards of torturing gnats and persecuting gadflies, whose larvæ
-were snorted out of the reindeers’ nostrils only a few weeks
-before.<a id="FNanchor_84" href="#Footnote_84" class="fnanchor">[83]</a> Now wandering begins in earnest; the herdsman travels,
-in short daily marches, but still hastily, towards the mountains.</p>
-
-<p>As soon as the dew is dry on the moss, lichens, grasses, and the
-young leaves of the dwarf bushes, the women take to pieces the
-tshum they erected only the day before, and load the sledges which
-were only then unladen. In the meantime the herdsman himself,
-on his light sledge drawn by four strong stags, goes in search of
-the herd scattered about to find pasture, or resting contentedly in
-groups, collects them and drives them towards the camping ground,
-where the rest of the family are prepared to receive them. Holding
-in their hands a thin rope, over which the reindeer seldom
-venture to jump, they form a circle round the herd; the herdsman,
-with his lasso in his right hand, goes in among the reindeer, throws
-his noose almost unfailingly round the neck or antlers of the chosen
-stags, secures and harnesses them, orders that all the others be let
-loose, mounts his sledge again and drives away in the direction of
-the next camping-ground. All the other sledges, driven by different
-members of the family, follow him in a long train, the whole
-free herd follows them, lowing or grunting, their hoofs crackling
-at every step. The dogs run about the whole procession, barking
-continually and collecting the animals that are inclined to wander.
-They cannot, however, prevent a few from breaking off from the
-sides of the herd and remaining behind. The herd spreads out
-more and more, picturesquely adorning all the heights; now and
-again they pause in groups over some favourite food; importuned
-by the calves the mother deer perform their maternal duties, and
-then, to please their satisfied offspring, lie down beside them till
-the eagle eye of the herdsman spies them, and, taking a wide
-circuit round the laggards, he drives them by a word of command,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_434">[Pg 434]</span>
-or by the help of the dogs, to join their fellows trotting briskly
-on ahead. Amid renewed general grunting, and loud barking
-from the dogs, the reassembled herd surges onwards; a very forest
-of antlers presses forwards, and something akin to sportsman’s
-joy stirs the heart of the spectator who is unfamiliar with the
-sight.</p>
-
-<p>The sun is declining; the draught animals groan heavily, their
-tongues hanging far out of their mouths; it is time to allow them
-rest. At a short distance, beside one of the innumerable lakes,
-there rises a low flat hill. Towards it the herdsman directs his
-course, and on its summit he brings his antlered team to a stand.
-One sledge after another arrives; the herd also soon comes up and
-immediately betakes itself to the best grazing-ground, quickly
-followed by the unharnessed draught animals.</p>
-
-<p>The women select a suitable spot for erecting the tshum, place
-the poles upright in a circle, and cover them with the sheets of
-bark; the herdsman in the meantime takes his already prepared
-noose, and with experienced eye picks out a young, fat stag from
-the herd. Quickly he casts the lasso over its horns and neck. In
-vain the animal struggles for his freedom; the huntsman comes
-nearer and nearer, and the reindeer follows him unresisting towards
-the tshum, which has now been erected. An axe-stroke on the
-back of the head fells the victim to the ground, and a knife is
-plunged into his heart. In a couple of minutes the animal is
-skinned and dexterously cut up. A minute later all the members
-of the family, who have assembled hastily, are dipping strips of
-cut-up liver into the blood collected in the breast-cavity, and the
-“bloody meal” begins. Crouching in a circle round the still warm
-stag, each cuts himself a rib or a piece of the back or haunch; lips
-become red as if they had been badly painted; drops of blood flow
-down over chin and breast; the hands, too, are stained, and, dripping
-with blood, they smear the nose and cheeks; and blood-stained
-countenances meet the astonished stranger’s gaze. The baby
-leaves its mother’s breast to share in the meal, and after he has
-swallowed a piece of liver, and reddened face, hands, and whatever
-else he can reach, he crows with joy as his careful mother breaks
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_435">[Pg 435]</span>a marrow-bone and gives it to him to suck. The dogs sit in a circle
-behind the feasting company, ready to snap up the bones which
-are thrown to them. One after another rises satisfied from
-the meal, wipes his blood-stained hands on the moss, cleans his
-knife in the same way, and retires into the tshum to rest. But
-the housewife fills the cooking-kettle with water, puts into it as<span class="pagenum" id="Page_436">[Pg 436]</span>
-much of the flesh of the half-eaten animal as it will hold, and lights
-the fire to prepare the evening meal.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f68">
-<img src="images/fig68.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 64.&mdash;Interior of an Ostiak Dwelling (Tshum).</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Meantime the herdsman has thrown off his upper garment and
-looked through it hastily, yet not without result, and he has drawn
-near the fire so that the flames may play with full effect on the
-naked upper portion of his body. He feels comfortable, and begins
-to think of another enjoyment. A wonderful man who is travelling
-towards the mountains in his company, a German, perhaps even
-a member of the Bremen exploring expedition to West Siberia, has
-not only presented him with tobacco&mdash;horrible stuff, it is true, yet
-at any rate strong&mdash;but he has also given him a great sheet of paper,
-a whole <i>Kölnische Zeitung</i>. From this he carefully tears off
-a small square piece, twists it to a pointed cornet, fills this with
-tobacco, bends it in the middle, and the pipe is ready. A moment
-later it is alight, and it smells so pleasant that the wife distends
-her nostrils, and begs to share the enjoyment. Her wish is at once
-granted, and the little pipe wanders round so that every member
-of the family may enjoy it in turn.</p>
-
-<p>But the contents of the pot begin to bubble, the supper is ready,
-and all “raise their hands to the daintily prepared meal”. Then
-the herdsman stands outside the door and utters a far-sounding call
-of long-drawn notes, to collect the restless herd once more. This
-done, he returns content into the tshum. Here his wife has spread
-the mosquito tent and is still busy stuffing its lower edge under the
-coverlets. While waiting for this work to be finished the man on
-his couch amuses himself by seizing one of the dogs and nursing it
-like a baby, the dog enduring it patiently in the consciousness that
-it is a high honour. Then the man creeps half-naked under the
-mosquito net, his fifteen-year-old son follows his example, the little
-thirteen-year-old wife of the latter does the same, the anxious
-mother sees to the safety of the little one in the cradle, the nursling
-already mentioned, lays more decayed wood on the smoky fire at
-the entrance to the tshum, shuts the door, and lies down like the
-rest. A few minutes later loud snoring announces that all are
-sleeping the sleep of the just.</p>
-
-<p>The next morning the same daily round begins again, and so it<span class="pagenum" id="Page_437">[Pg 437]</span>
-goes on until the mountain heights permit of a longer sojourn in
-one place. The snow, which falls very early, warns them to return
-even in August, and again, this time more slowly and leisurely,
-herdsmen and herds journey back to the low grounds.</p>
-
-<p>With the disappearance of the ice the activity of the fishermen
-on the river begins. Many of the Ostiak fishermen work in the
-pay of, or at least in partnership with the Russians, others only sell
-to them the superfluous portion of their catch, and fish on their
-own account. Immediately after the ice has broken up, the former
-class pitch their tshums beside the fisher huts of the Russians, and
-the others settle by the river banks in their summer dwellings&mdash;log-huts
-of the simplest construction. Where a tributary flows
-into the river, they raise across it, or across the mouth of an arm of
-the stream, a barricade which leaves only one channel, and in the
-deep water they place baskets and set bottom-lines; beyond that
-they use only drag- and seine-nets.</p>
-
-<p>Bustling activity prevails about all the fishing-stations when
-the catch is good. On a shaky stand above the opening in the
-barricade the young men, more boys than men, are crouching,
-peering keenly into the dark flood beneath them to see whether
-the fish are going into the draw-net which they are holding
-so as to close the channel. From time to time they lift their
-burdened net, and empty its contents into their little boat. The
-men fish together on a sand-bank with the drag-net, or in shallower
-parts of the river with the seine. In the afternoon, or towards
-evening the fishermen return home, and the fish are distributed
-among the different households. Next morning the women’s work
-begins. Singly, or in groups, they sit beside a great fish heap, each
-provided with a board and a sharp knife, and scale, gut, split, and
-crimp the fish, afterwards stringing them on long thin sticks,
-which are hung up on the drying-stands to dry. With dexterous
-and certain strokes the abdominal cavity is opened and the side
-muscles separated from the backbone, a few touches more separate
-the liver and other viscera from the head, ribs, and more
-valuable side portions of the body. Liver after liver slips between
-the smacking lips; for the women have not yet broken their fast<span class="pagenum" id="Page_438">[Pg 438]</span>
-and they take the titbits as a preliminary snack. If they are still
-unsatisfied, a fish is scaled, gutted, and cut in long strips, the end
-of one of these is dipped into the trickling blood and, thus seasoned,
-is put into the mouth, divided into suitable mouthfuls with quick
-knife-strokes which seem to pass perilously near the point of the
-eater’s nose. The children playing about their busy mothers
-receive pieces of liver or strips of muscle according to their size;
-four-year-olds use the knife to cut the pieces almost as cleverly as
-their elders, who invariably divide their fish or strips of reindeer
-flesh in this manner. Soon the faces of mothers and children
-shine with fish blood and liver oil, and the hands glisten with
-adhering fish-scales. When all the fishes are scaled, split, and
-hung up to dry, the dogs which have been sitting, covetous but not
-importunate, beside the women, receive their portion also&mdash;the
-scales and debris, which are thrown into a heap amid which the
-black muzzles burrow eagerly.</p>
-
-<p>The morning work is over, and a short period of rest has been
-earned. The mothers take their children on their laps, suckle the
-nurslings, and then proceed to a work which is absolutely necessary,
-not only to the little ones’ comfort but to their own&mdash;the hunt for
-parasites. One child after another lays its head in its mother’s
-lap, and finally she lays her own in that of her eldest daughter or
-of a friend who hopes for a similar service, and the hunt proves
-productive. That the booty secured is put between the lips, and
-if not actually eaten, at least bitten to death, is nothing new to a
-naturalist who has observed monkeys, and it confirms those who
-see more than a mere hypothesis in Darwin’s doctrine, or in the
-belief that men may exhibit atavism, or a reversion to the habits
-of a remote ancestor.</p>
-
-<p>The sun is sinking, the men, youths, and boys come back with
-a new and rich harvest. They have eaten raw fish as they required,
-but now their souls long for warm food. A great steaming kettle
-of cooked fish, delicious salmonoids (genus Coregonus), the nearest
-relative of the salmon, is set before them; its accompaniment is
-bread dipped in and thoroughly saturated with fish fat. Brick-tea,<a id="FNanchor_85" href="#Footnote_85" class="fnanchor">[84]</a>
-put on the fire with cold water and boiled for a long time, brings<span class="pagenum" id="Page_439">[Pg 439]</span>
-the meal to an end. “But when the desire for food and drink is
-appeased” the spirit also longs for satisfaction, and the musician
-with harp or zither of his own manufacture is eagerly welcomed,
-whether to play one of their strange, old, indescribable melodies, or
-an accompaniment to the quaint dance of the women, in which they
-raise themselves and sink again, throw one arm round the other,
-stretch both out, and drop them to their sides. These amusements
-last until the mosquito-curtain is prepared, then here, too, old and
-young disappear beneath its folds.</p>
-
-<p>The summer is past, and winter follows the short autumn. A
-new activity comes into play with the migration of the birds; a
-new, indeed the full, true life of the Ostiaks begins with winter.
-For the departing summer guests the treacherous net is spread.
-Gaps are cut in the dense willow growth of the banks on the direct
-course between two large sheets of water, and in each space is
-spread a thin, easily-moved limed net, into which fly not only
-ducks, but geese, swans, and cranes. These are welcome booty, both
-on account of flesh and feathers, for birds of all kinds form a
-considerable portion of the food not only of the Ostiaks but
-of all the dwellers in the river-basin. At the time when the
-bird-catcher begins his work the nomad herdsman sets out on the
-chase, and sets his fall-traps in the tundra for the red and Arctic
-foxes, or in the forest, in company with his more settled relatives,
-he sets snares, spring-bows, and self-acting cross-bows for wolves
-and foxes, sables and ermines, gluttons and squirrels. If snow has
-fallen, the experienced huntsman buckles on his snow-shoes, puts
-on his snow-spectacles, and betakes himself with his fleet dog to
-the tundra or the forest to seek out the bear in his den, to follow
-the track of the lynx, to chase the elk and the wild reindeer, now
-impeded by the snow, which will not bear their weight though it
-bears the huntsman’s. He has never lied, never sworn falsely by
-the bear’s tooth, never done a wrong, and the bear is therefore
-powerless against him, the elk and the reindeer are not fleet enough
-to escape him! When a bear has been shot he returns triumphantly
-to the village, neighbours and friends gather round him in the
-tshum, rejoicing, and as the general jubilation infects him, he slips<span class="pagenum" id="Page_440">[Pg 440]</span>
-quietly away, disguises himself, puts on a mask, and begins the
-bear-dance, executing wonderful movements, which are meant to
-mimic and illustrate those of the bear in all the varied circumstances
-of his life.</p>
-
-<p>The huts of the fisher-folk soon contain a rich treasure of skins,
-the tshum of the herdsman a still richer, for he has stored up the
-skins of all the reindeer slaughtered throughout the year. Now
-it is time to get rid of them. Everyone, far and near, prepares for
-the fair which is held every year, in the second half of January,
-in Obdorsk, the last Russian village, and the most important
-trading centre on the lower Obi. The fair is attended by natives
-and strangers, and during its progress the Russian government
-officials collect taxes from the Ostiaks and Samoyedes, settle
-disputes, and deal out justice generally; the Russian merchants are
-on the outlook for buyers and sellers, the dishonest ones among
-them, and the swindling Syryani, for thoughtless drunkards, and
-the clergy for heathen to be converted. Among the Ostiaks and
-Samoyedes all sorts of agreements are made, weddings arranged,
-enemies reconciled, friends gained, compacts with the Russians
-formed, debts paid and new ones contracted. From all sides appear
-long trains of sledges drawn by reindeer, and one tshum after
-another grows up beside the market-place, each tshum surrounded
-by heavily-laden sledges containing the saleable acquisitions of
-the year. Every morning the owner, with his favourite wife in
-gala attire, proceeds to the booths to sell his skins and buy other
-commodities. They bargain, haggle, and attempt to cheat, and
-Mercury, as powerful as of yore, shows his might not only as the
-god of merchants but of thieves. Alcohol, though its retail sale
-is forbidden by the government, is to be had not only at every
-merchant’s, but in almost every house in Obdorsk, and it blunts
-the senses and dulls the intelligence of Ostiak and Samoyede, and
-impoverishes them even more than the much-dreaded reindeer
-plague. Brandy rouses all the passions in the ordinarily calm, good-tempered,
-inoffensive Ostiak, and transforms the peaceable, friendly,
-honest fellows into raging, senseless animals. Man and wife alike
-long for brandy; the father pours it down his boy’s throat, the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_441">[Pg 441]</span>
-mother forces it on her daughter, should they begin by rebelling
-against the destructive poison. For brandy the Ostiak squanders
-his laboriously-gained treasures, his whole possessions; for it he
-binds himself as a slave, or at least as a servant; for it he
-sells his soul, and denies the faith of his fathers. Brandy is an
-indispensable accompaniment to the conclusion of every business,
-even to conversion to the orthodox church. With the help of
-brandy a dishonest merchant can get possession of all an Ostiak’s
-skins, and without these, with empty purse and confused head, the
-man who arrived in Obdorsk full of hope and pride, returns to
-his tshum cheated, not to say plundered. He repents his folly and
-weakness, makes the best of resolutions, becomes tranquil in doing
-so, and soon remembers nothing except that he enjoyed himself
-excellently with his fellow tribesmen. First they had drunk
-together; then men and women had kissed each other, then the
-men had beaten their wives, had tried their strength on each other,
-had even drawn their sharp knives, and, with flashing eyes, had
-threatened each other with death; but no blood had been shed;
-there had been a reconciliation; the women who had fallen on the
-ground, stupefied with blows and brandy, were lifted up tenderly,
-and were tended by other women; to celebrate the reconciliation
-an important compact had been made, a bridegroom was sought for
-the daughter, a little bride for the son; even a widow had been
-married, and they drank again to the occasion; in short, they had
-had a splendid time. That the government officials had shut up all
-those who were dead drunk, that all, all their money had gone the
-way of things perishable, had certainly been disagreeable, very disagreeable.
-However, the prison had opened again; after a time,
-the loss of the money had been got over, and only the golden
-recollection, over which they could gloat for a whole year, and the
-betrothal, so satisfactory to all parties, remained as permanent gain
-from the delightful festival.</p>
-
-<p>The bridegroom and bride had also been at the fair, had drunk
-with the rest, and thus made each other’s acquaintance, and the
-bridegroom had agreed with his parents to choose the maiden as
-his wife, or rather had agreed to receive her. For it is the parents’<span class="pagenum" id="Page_442">[Pg 442]</span>
-decision, not the consent of the couple themselves, that concludes a
-marriage among the Ostiaks. They may perhaps have some regard
-for the bridegroom’s wishes, may allow him to cast his affections on
-one or other of the daughters of his people, but they only send
-an agent to treat with the girl’s father if their own circumstances
-correspond with his. The maiden herself is not consulted, perhaps
-because, at the time of her betrothal, she is much too young to be
-able to decide upon her own future with discretion. Even the
-future husband has not reached his fifteenth year when the agent
-begins to treat for the twelve-year-old bride. In this case the
-general exhilaration of fair-time had considerably hastened the
-course of proceedings. The matrimonial agent had gained an immediate
-consent; the negotiations, often very protracted, had been
-at once begun, and thanks to brandy, which usually proves an evil
-demon, but in this case expedited matters, they were brought to a
-speedy conclusion. It had been agreed that Sandor, the young
-bridegroom, should pay for his little bride, Malla, sixty reindeer,
-twenty skins of the white and ten of the red fox, a piece of coloured
-cloth, and various trifles such as rings, buttons, glass beads, head-dresses,
-and the like. That was little, much less than the district
-governor, Mamru, who was scarcely better off, had to give for his
-wife; for his payment consisted of a hundred and fifty reindeer,
-sixty skins of the Arctic and twenty of the red fox, a large piece of
-stuff for clothes, several head-dresses, and the customary trifles.
-But times were better then, and Mamru might well pay what was
-equivalent to more than a thousand silver roubles for his wife, who
-was stately, rich, and of good family.</p>
-
-<p>The amount agreed on is paid; the nuptials of the young couple
-are celebrated. The relatives of the bride’s family come to her
-father’s tent to bring presents and to receive others from the bridegroom’s
-gift, which is laid out for everyone to see. The bride is
-arrayed in festive garments, and she and her friends prepare for the
-drive to the tshum of the bridegroom or of his father. Beforehand
-they have eaten abundantly of the flesh of a reindeer, fresh killed,
-according to custom. Only a few fish caught under the ice have
-been cooked to-day; the flesh of the reindeer was eaten raw, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_443">[Pg 443]</span>
-when one began to grow cold a second was slaughtered. The bride
-weeps, as becomes departing brides, and refuses to leave the tshum
-in which she was brought up, but she is consoled and coaxed by all,
-and at last she is ready. A prayer before the domestic idol solicits
-the blessing of the heavenly Ohrt, whose sign, the divine fire
-Sornidud&mdash;in our eyes only the flaming northern light&mdash;had shone
-blood-red in the sky the evening before. The daughter is accompanied
-by her mother, who keeps close by her side, and even
-remains near her during the night. Mother and daughter mount
-one sledge, the rest of the invited kinsfolk mount theirs, and, in
-festive pomp, to the sound of the bells which all the reindeer wear
-on their harness, the wedding procession sets forth.</p>
-
-<p>In his father’s tent the bridegroom awaits the bride, who
-modestly veils her face with her head-dress in the presence of her
-future father and brothers-in-law. This she continues to do after
-the marriage is consummated. A new banquet begins, and the
-guests, who have been joined by the bridegroom’s relatives, do not
-disperse till late at night. But the next day the mother brings the
-young wife back to her father’s tent. A day later all the bridegroom’s
-relatives appear to demand her back again for him. Once
-more the low hut is filled with festive sounds; then the bride leaves
-it for ever, and is again conducted with pomp to the tshum which
-she is thenceforward to share with her husband, or with him and
-his father and brothers and sisters, or later on with another wife.</p>
-
-<p>The sons of poor people pay at most ten reindeer for their brides;
-those of the fisher-folk only the most necessary furnishings of the
-tshum, and even these are often shared among several families; but
-their weddings, too, are made the occasion of a joyful festival, and
-there is as much banqueting as circumstances will allow.</p>
-
-<p>The poorer Ostiaks marry only one wife, but the rich look upon it
-as one of the rights of their position to have two or more. But the
-first wife always retains her privileges, and the others appear to be
-rather her servants than her equals. It is otherwise, however, if she
-should have no children; for childlessness is a disgrace to the man,
-and a childless wife in the tshum, as elsewhere, is much to be pitied.</p>
-
-<p>The parents are proud of their children, and treat them with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_444">[Pg 444]</span>
-great tenderness. It is with unmistakable happiness in look and
-gesture that the young mother lays her first-born in her bosom, or
-on the soft moss in the neat birch-bark cradle with its lining of
-mouldered willow-wood and shavings; carefully she fastens the
-cover to both sides of the cradle, and envelops the head-end of the
-little bed with the mosquito curtain; but her ideal of cleanliness
-leaves much to be desired. As long as the baby is small and helpless
-she washes and cleanses it when she thinks it absolutely
-necessary. But when it grows bigger she only washes its face and
-hands once a day, using a handful of fine willow fibres as sponge, and
-a dry handful as towel, and afterwards looks on quite complacently
-when the little creature, who finds many opportunities for soiling
-itself, goes about in a state of dirt, to us almost inconceivable. This
-state of things comes gradually to an end when the young Ostiak is
-able to take care of himself; but even then, hardly anyone considers
-it necessary to wash after every meal, even should it have left stains
-of blood. The children are as much attached, and as faithful to their
-parents as these are to them, and their obedience and submission is
-worthy of mention. To reverence parents is the first and chief
-commandment among the Ostiaks, to reverence their god is only the
-second. When we advised Mamru, the district governor already
-mentioned, to have his children taught the Russian language and
-writing, he replied that he saw the advantage of such knowledge,
-but feared that his children might forget the respect due to their
-father and mother, and thus break the most important commandment
-of their religion. This may be the reason why no Ostiak,
-who clings to the faith of his fathers, learns to do more than make
-his mark, a sort of scrawl binding on him and others, drawn upon
-paper, or cut in wood or reindeer-skin. Yet the Ostiak is capable
-and dexterous, able to learn whatever he is taught so quickly and
-easily that, at the early age at which he marries, he understands
-everything connected with the establishment and maintenance of
-his household. It is only in religious matters that he seems unwilling
-to trust to his own judgment, and on this account he, in
-most cases, shows unmerited respect for the shamans,<a id="FNanchor_86" href="#Footnote_86" class="fnanchor">[85]</a> who profess
-to know more about religion than he does.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_445">[Pg 445]</span></p>
-
-<p>For our part, we regard the shaman, who claims the status of
-a priest among the Ostiaks as among the other Mongolian peoples
-of Siberia, as nothing short of an impostor. The sole member of the
-precious brotherhood with whom we came in contact, a baptized
-Samoyede, bore the sign of Christianity on his breast; according to
-report he had even been a deacon in the orthodox church, and yet
-he did duty as a shaman among the heathen Ostiaks. I learned
-later, on good authority, that he was no exception to the general
-rule; for all the shamans met with by my informant, Herr von
-Middendorf, during years of travel in Siberia, were Christians. I
-have already mentioned in the report of my travels that the shaman
-whom we met took us also for believers; but I have reserved my
-account of his performances and prophecies for to-day, as this description
-seems to me a fitting frame for such a picture.</p>
-
-<p>To begin with, he demanded brandy as a fee, but was satisfied
-with the promise of a gift, and retired into a tent, saying that he
-would let us know when his preparations were finished. Among
-these preparations, apparently, was the muffled beating of a drum
-which we heard after a considerable time; of other arrangements
-we discovered nothing. On a given signal we entered the
-tshum.</p>
-
-<p>The whole space within the birch-bark hut was filled with
-people, who sat round in a circle pressing closely against the walls.
-Among the Ostiaks and Samoyedes, who were there with wives
-and children, there were also Russians with their families. On a
-raised seat to the left of the entrance sat the shaman Vidli; at his
-right, crouching on the floor, was an Ostiak, the master’s disciple at
-the time. Vidli wore a brown upper garment, and over it a kind
-of robe, originally white, but soiled and shabbily trimmed with gold
-braid; in his left hand he held a little tambour-like drum, in such
-a way that it shaded his face; in his right hand was a drum-stick;
-his head was uncovered, his tonsured hair freshly oiled. In the
-middle of the tshum a fire was burning, and now and again it
-blazed up and shed bright light on the motley throng, in the midst
-of which we sat down in the places reserved for us. A thrice-repeated,
-long-drawn cry, like a song from many voices, preluded by<span class="pagenum" id="Page_446">[Pg 446]</span>
-beating of the drum, greeted our entrance, and marked the beginning
-of the proceedings.</p>
-
-<p>“That you may see that I am a man of truth,” said the master’s
-voice, “I shall now adjure the messenger of the heavenly will, who
-is at my behest, to appear among us and communicate to me what the
-gods have determined concerning your future. Later, you yourselves
-will be able to determine whether I have told you the truth or not.”</p>
-
-<p>After this introduction, which was translated to us by two
-interpreters, the favourite of the gods struck the calf-skin, or rather
-reindeer-skin of his drum, with quick strokes which followed one
-another at equal intervals, but were indefinitely grouped, and accompanied
-his drumming with a song which, in the usual Samoyede
-fashion, was half-spoken, or rather muttered, and half-sung, and
-was faithfully repeated by the youth, whom we may call the clerk.
-The master held the drum so as to keep his face in shadow, and
-he also shut his eyes that nothing might distract his inward vision;
-the clerk, on the other hand, smoked even while he sang, and
-spat from time to time, just as he had been doing before. Three slow,
-decided strokes brought the drumming and the song to an end.</p>
-
-<p>“I have now,” said the master with dignity, “adjured Yamaul,
-the heavenly messenger, to appear among us, but I cannot say how
-much time must pass before he arrives, for he may be far off.”</p>
-
-<p>And again he beat his drum and sang his incantation, concluding
-both song and accompaniment as before.</p>
-
-<p>“I see two emperors before me; they will send you a writing,”
-spoke the messenger of the gods through his lips.</p>
-
-<p>So Yamaul had been kind enough to appear in the tshum to
-oblige his favourite. Then the individual sentences of the heavenly
-message, with the invariable prelude of drumming and song, were
-uttered as follows:&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>“Once again, next summer, you will traverse the same route as
-this year.”</p>
-
-<p>“Then you will visit the summit of the Ural, where the rivers
-Ussa, Bodarata, and Shtchutshya begin their course.”</p>
-
-<p>“On this journey something will befall you, whether good or
-evil I cannot tell.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_447">[Pg 447]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Nothing is to be achieved at the Bodarata, for wood and pasture
-are lacking; here something might be accomplished.”</p>
-
-<p>“You will have to render an account to your superiors; they
-will examine you and will be satisfied.”</p>
-
-<p>“You will also have to answer to the three elders of your tribe;
-they also will examine your writings, and then come to a decision
-about the new journey.”</p>
-
-<p>“The course of your journey will henceforward be happy and
-without accident; and you will find your loved ones at home in the
-best of health.”</p>
-
-<p>“If the statements of the Russians who are still at Bodarata
-corroborate yours, two emperors will reward you.”</p>
-
-<p>“I see no other face.”</p>
-
-<p>The performance was at an end. On the Ural Mountains lay
-the last glow of midnight. Everyone left the tent, the faces of the
-Russians showing the same credulity as those of the Ostiaks and
-Samoyedes. But we invited the shaman to accompany us to our
-boat, loosened his tongue and that of his disciple with brandy, and
-plied him with all manner of cross-questions, some of them of the
-subtlest kind. He answered them all, without exception, without
-ever getting into a difficulty, without hesitation, without even
-reflection; he answered them full of conviction, and convincingly,
-clearly, definitely, tersely, and to the point, so that we recognized
-more clearly than before the extreme craftiness of the man with
-whom we had to deal.</p>
-
-<p>He described to us how, even in his boyhood, the spirit had
-come upon him and had tortured him till he became the disciple
-of a shaman; how he had become more and more intimate with
-Yamaul, the messenger of the gods, who appears to him as a friendly
-man, riding on a swift horse, and carrying a staff in his hand; how
-Yamaul hastened to his help, and even, if need were, called down
-aid from heaven when he, the shaman, was struggling with evil
-spirits often for several days at a time; how the messenger of the
-gods must always communicate the message to him just as he
-received it, for that otherwise he felt every drum-beat as a painful
-stroke; how Yamaul, even to-day, though visible to him only, sat<span class="pagenum" id="Page_448">[Pg 448]</span>
-behind him in the tshum and whispered the words in his ear. He
-also informed us that, by his own art, or by the grace bestowed
-upon him, which even his conversion to Christianity could not
-weaken, he could reveal what was hidden, find what was stolen,
-recognize diseases, prophesy the death or recovery of the sick, see
-and banish the ghosts of the dead, work much evil, and prevent
-much evil, but that he did nothing but good, because he feared the
-gods; he gave us a clear and detailed, if not quite correct picture
-of the religion of the Ostiaks and Samoyedes; he assured us that
-all his people, as well as the Ostiaks, came to him in their troubles
-to ask advice, or to have the future unveiled, and that they did not
-doubt, but trusted in him and believed him.</p>
-
-<p>The last statement is not correct. The great mass of the people
-may regard the shaman as a wise man, perhaps even as an intermediary
-between men and the gods, and possibly as the possessor
-of mysterious power; but many believe his words and works as
-little as other races do those of their priests. The real faith of the
-people is simpler and more child-like than the shaman approves of.
-It is here as elsewhere; the priest, or whoever acts as such, peoples
-heaven with gods, and councillors and servants of the gods, but the
-people know nothing of this celestial court.</p>
-
-<p>According to the belief of the people there is enthroned in
-heaven Ohrt, whose name signifies “the end of the world”. He
-is an all-powerful spirit, who rules over everything but Death, and
-he is benevolently inclined towards men. He is the giver of all
-good, the bestower of reindeer, fish, and furred animals, the preventer
-of evil, and the avenger of lies, severe only when promises
-made to him are not fulfilled. Feasts are held in his honour,
-sacrifices and prayers are offered to him; the suppliant who prostrates
-himself before a sacred symbol thinks of him. The symbol,
-called a <i>longch</i>, may be of carved wood, a bundle of cloth, a stone,
-a skin, or anything else: it possesses no powers, affords no protection,
-it is in no sense a fetish! People assemble before a <i>longch</i>,
-place it in front of the tshum, lay dishes of fish, reindeer flesh, or
-other offering before it, place valuables before it, or even pack
-them inside it; but they always look up to heaven, and both<span class="pagenum" id="Page_449">[Pg 449]</span>
-their offerings and their prayers are intended for their god. Evil
-spirits dwell in heaven as on earth; but Ohrt is more powerful
-than they all; only Death is mightier than he. There is no everlasting
-life after death, and no resurrection; but the dead still
-wander as ghosts over the face of the earth, and have still power
-to do good or evil.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f69">
-<img src="images/fig69.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 65.&mdash;The Burial of an Ostiak.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_450">[Pg 450]</span></p>
-
-<p>When an Ostiak dies his spirit-life begins at once; so his friends
-proceed immediately to arrange for his burial. They had all
-assembled before his death, and as soon as life is extinct they kindle
-a fire in the tshum in which the body lies, and keep it burning
-until they set out for the burial-place. A shaman is called to ask
-the dead where he wishes to lie. This is done by naming a place,
-and attempting to raise the head of the corpse. If the dead man
-approves he lets his head be raised; if he does not, three men cannot
-move it. Then the question must be repeated until the man
-gives his consent. Skilled persons are despatched to the chosen
-spot to prepare the grave, for this work often requires several
-days.</p>
-
-<p>The burial-places are always in the tundra, on elevated spots,
-usually on a long ridge; the coffins are more or less artistically
-wrought chests, which are placed above the ground. Failing solid
-planks to construct the coffin, a boat is cut up and the corpse is
-laid in that; only the very poor people dig in the ground a shallow
-hollow in which to bury their dead.</p>
-
-<p>The corpse is not washed, but is arrayed in festive garments,
-the hair anointed, and the face covered with a cloth. All the rest
-of the deceased’s clothing is given to the poor. The Ostiaks never
-touch the dead body of a stranger with their hands, but they do not
-hesitate to touch a loved relative, and even to kiss his cold face
-with tears in their eyes. The corpse is brought to the burial-place
-on a sledge, or in a boat, and is accompanied by all the relatives
-and friends. A reindeer-skin, on which the dead is to rest, is laid
-in the chest or coffin. At the head and sides are placed tobacco,
-pipes, and all manner of implements which the dead man was wont
-to use in his lifetime. Then the corpse is lifted with cords, carried
-to the chest, and laid on the bed thus prepared; the face is covered
-for the last time, a piece of birch-bark is spread over the open top
-of the chest, which, if the family be a rich one, is perhaps first
-covered with costly skins and cloths, the lid of the chest is put on
-above the sheet of bark, or at least heavy branches are laid close
-together upon it. Around and under the chest are laid such implements
-as could not be placed within it, but they are first broken<span class="pagenum" id="Page_451">[Pg 451]</span>
-up and thus rendered useless for the living, or, according to Ostiak
-ideas, made the ghosts of what they were.</p>
-
-<p>Meanwhile, a fire has been kindled in the neighbourhood of the
-grave, and one or more reindeer slaughtered, and now the flesh is
-eaten, raw or cooked, by the funeral company. After the meal, the
-skulls of the slaughtered reindeer are fixed upon a pole, their harness
-is hung on the pole or on a tree, the bells they have worn on
-this, as on all solemn occasions, are hung on the top of the coffin
-itself, the sledge is broken to pieces and thrown beside the grave as
-its last ornament. Then the company travels homewards. Mourning
-is now silenced, and the daily round of life begins again.</p>
-
-<p>But in the shades of night the ghost of the dead, equipped with
-his ghostly tools, begins his mysterious spirit-life. What he did
-while he walked among the living, he continues to do. Invisible to
-all he leads his reindeer to pasture, guides his boat through the
-waves, buckles on his snow-shoes, draws his bow, spreads his net,
-shoots the ghosts of former game, catches the ghosts of former
-fishes. During night he visits the tshum of his wife and children,
-causing them joy or sorrow. His reward is to be able to show
-beneficence to his own flesh and blood; his punishment, to be obliged
-continually to do them injury.</p>
-
-<p>Such in outline is the religion of the Ostiaks, whom the Greek
-Catholics despise as heathen. But a just estimate of these honest
-people, with their child-like nature, inclines us rather to wish that
-they may ever remain heathen, or at least may never be other than
-they are.</p>
-
-
-<hr class="full x-ebookmaker-drop" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="c17">THE NOMAD HERDSMEN AND HERDS OF THE<br />
-STEPPES.</h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>Though the steppe of Central Asia is really rich, and may even
-seem gay to one who visits it in spring, and though it contains
-much fruitful land, it is nevertheless only its most favoured portions
-which admit of a settled life, of a continued residence on any
-one particular spot. Constant wandering, coming and going, appearing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_452">[Pg 452]</span>
-and disappearing, is the lot of all the children of the steppe,
-men and animals alike. Certain portions submit to the labours of
-the husbandman; in others, towns and villages may be established,
-but the steppe as a whole must for ever remain the possession of
-the nomadic herdsman, who knows how to adapt himself to all its
-conditions of life.</p>
-
-<p>Among these nomadic herdsmen the Kirghiz take the first rank,
-by virtue both of numbers and of civilization. Their domain extends
-from the Don and the Volga to the mountains of Thianshan,
-and from the middle Irtish to south of the Balkhash Lake,
-indeed, almost to Khiva and Bokhara; they are divided into tribes
-and hordes, into steppe and mountain herdsmen, but they are one
-in descent, in language and religion, in manners and customs,
-however much the various tribes may appear to differ. The smallest
-or youngest horde wanders throughout the steppe of Orenburg; a
-branch of the same, calling itself the Buka tribe, traverses the
-steppe between the Volga and Ural rivers, especially in the governments
-of Turgai and Ural; the middle or elder horde inhabits the
-steppes and mountains of the Irtish and Balkhash regions; and
-finally, extending from beyond the river Ili towards Khiva and
-Bokhara are to be found the ever-changing dwelling-places of the
-mountain Kirghiz, who describe themselves as the great, or eldest
-horde. No branch of these people applies the name Kirgis or Kirghiz
-to itself, for that is a term of infamy equivalent to “freebooters”.
-The proper designation of our people is Kaisak, Kasak, or, as we
-should read it, Cossack, although even the Russians apply the name
-Cossack to a people quite distinct from the inhabitants of the
-steppe.</p>
-
-<p>The Kirghiz, as I shall call them nevertheless, are a Turkish
-people, about whose racial affinities different opinions are held.
-Many, if not most, travellers look upon them as true Mongolians,
-while others regard them, probably more correctly, as a mixed race,
-suggestive of the Mongolians in some particulars, but, on the whole,
-exhibiting the characteristics of Indo-Germans, and especially
-resembling the Turkomans. All the Kirghiz I saw belonged to the
-middle horde, and were well-built people, small, or of medium<span class="pagenum" id="Page_453">[Pg 453]</span>
-height, with faces, not beautiful indeed, but not of the caricature-like
-Mongolian type, neat hands and feet, clear or transparent
-light-brown or yellowish complexions, brown eyes, and black hair.
-The cheek-bones are seldom so prominent, or the chin so pointed,
-as to give an angular or cat-faced appearance; the eye, of medium
-size, is usually most arched centrally, and drawn out horizontally at
-the outer angle; it is thus almond-shaped, but not obliquely set; the
-nose is usually straight, more rarely hooked; the mouth moderate
-in size and sharply cut, the beard thin, without being actually
-scanty. True Mongolian features are certainly to be met with also,
-more especially among the women and children of the poorer class;
-but, though I have seen very few really beautiful Kirghiz women,
-I have met with quite as few of the grotesque faces so common
-among other undoubted Mongols. The characteristics are unmistakably
-more suggestive of a mixed race than of any one sharply
-defined stock. I have seen men whom I should unhesitatingly
-have pronounced to belong to the nobler Indo-Germans if I had
-known nothing of their kinship, and I have become acquainted
-with others about the Mongolian cut of whose faces there could
-be no possible doubt. The members of the older families usually
-possess all the essential marks of the Indo-Germans, while men of
-lower descent and meaner extraction often remind one of the
-Mongols in many details, and may sometimes resemble them completely.
-The power of Islam, which permits to slaves who have
-become converts all the rights of the tribe, may in the course of
-time have made Kirghiz out of many heathen Mongols, and thus
-not only have influenced, but actually destroyed the racial characteristics
-of the Kirghiz.</p>
-
-<p>Although the chief features of the Kirghiz dress are Turkish, it
-is, as a whole, by no means suited for displaying their figure to
-advantage. In winter the fur cap, fur coat, and thick-legged
-boots hide all the details of the figure, and even in summer these do
-not come into prominence. The poorer Kirghiz, in addition to his
-fur coat and the inevitable fur cap, wears a shirt, kaftan, and wide
-trousers; the higher class rich man, on the other hand, wears a
-great many articles of dress one above the other, like the Oriental;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_454">[Pg 454]</span>
-but he stuffs all those which envelop the lower part of his body,
-with the exception of his fur coat, into his wide trousers, so that
-he may not be impeded in riding. Consequently, the more richly
-attired he is the more grotesque he looks. They prefer dark
-colours to light or bright ones, though they do not despise these,
-and they are fond of decorations of gay embroideries or braiding.
-Nearly every Kirghiz wears at his girdle a dainty little pocket,
-richly decorated with iron or silver mountings, and a similarly
-ornamented knife; beyond these, and the indispensable signet-ring,
-he wears no decoration unless the Emperor has bestowed one
-upon him, in the shape of a commemorative medal.</p>
-
-<p>Of the dress of the women I can say little, first, because modesty
-forbade me to ask about more than I could see, and secondly,
-because I did not see the women of the upper class at all, and
-never saw the others in their gala attire. In addition to the fur
-coat, boots and shoes, which are exactly like those of the men, the
-women wear trousers which differ very slightly, a shift, and over it
-a robe-like upper garment, falling below the knee and clasped in the
-middle; on the head they wear either a cloth wound in turban-fashion,
-or a nun-like hood which covers head, neck, shoulders, and
-breast.</p>
-
-<p>The clothing of both sexes is coarse, except the riding-boots and
-shoes, which are always well made. Very characteristic, and obviously
-adapted to the climatic conditions, are the extraordinarily
-long sleeves which both men and women wear on their upper garment;
-these fall far beyond the hands, and cover them almost
-completely.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f70">
-<a href="images/fig70big.jpg">
-<img src="images/fig70.jpg" alt="" />
-</a>
-<p class="caption">Fig. 66.&mdash;The Home of a Wealthy Kirghiz.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>The roving life to which the Kirghiz are compelled by the necessity
-of finding sufficient pasturage for their numerous herds, involves
-a style of dwelling which is easily constructed, can be taken
-down at one spot and erected again at another without special difficulty,
-and which must yet afford a sufficient protection against the
-hardness and inclemency of the climate. These requirements are
-fulfilled more thoroughly by the <i>yurt</i> than by any other movable
-dwelling, and it is not too much to say that this is the most perfect
-of all tents. Thousands of years of experience has made the <i>yurt</i><span class="pagenum" id="Page_457">[Pg 457]</span>
-what it is&mdash;a home for the nomadic herdsman, or any other wanderer,&mdash;which,
-in its own way, cannot be surpassed. Light and
-easily moved, readily closed against storms, or thrown open to admit
-air and sunshine, comfortable and commodious, simple, yet admitting
-of rich decoration without and within, it unites in itself so many
-excellent qualities that one appreciates it ever more highly as time
-goes on, and finds it more and more habitable the longer one lives
-in it. It consists of a movable lattice-work which can be extended
-or contracted, and which forms the lower upright circular walls of
-the framework, a coupling ring which forms the arch at the top,
-spars inserted into both these, and a door in the lattice-work; light
-mats of tschi-grass, and large wads or sheets of felt, cut to shape,
-and most ingeniously laid on, compose the outer covering of the
-whole framework, and thick carpets of felt cover the floor. With
-the exception of the door-frames, which are mortised together,
-and of the spars, the upper ends of which are inserted into holes in
-the coupling-ring, the whole structure is held together simply by
-means of cords and bands; and it is thus easily taken to pieces,
-while its form&mdash;circular in cross section, and cupola-like longitudinally&mdash;renders
-it capable of great resistance to violent storms and
-bad weather of all sorts. The work of putting it up scarcely
-requires more than half an hour, that of taking it down even less;
-the strength of a single camel conveys it from place to place, but
-its construction and decoration take up much of the time and all
-the ingenuity of the housewife, to whose share falls the chief work
-of making it, and the whole labour of setting it up.</p>
-
-<p>The yurt forms an important part of the movable property of
-a Kirghiz. A rich man owns six or eight, but he spends money
-rather on the decoration of a few than on the construction of many,
-for he is assessed and taxed not according to the size of his herds
-but the number of his yurts. The high-class Kirghiz certainly
-shows his wealth through his yurt, by fitting it up as richly as
-possible, making it out of the most valuable felt, and decorating it
-without and within with coloured pieces of cloth; but he sets store
-rather by the possession of costly rugs, and beautifully sewn and
-embroidered silken coverlets, with which he decorates the interior<span class="pagenum" id="Page_458">[Pg 458]</span>
-of the living-room on festive occasions. Such rugs are handed down
-from father to son, and the possession of them ranks scarcely below
-that of uncoined silver.</p>
-
-<p>The real wealth of the nomadic herdsman cannot, however, be
-estimated by such secondary things; it must be calculated by his
-herds. Even the poorest owner of a yurt must possess numerous
-beasts to enable him to live, or survive in the struggle for existence;
-for the herds he tends form the one indispensable condition of life;
-they alone stand between him and ruin. The rich man’s herds
-may number thousands upon thousands, those of the poor man at
-least hundreds; but the richest may become poor, if disease breaks
-out among his herds, and the poor man may starve if death visits
-his beasts. Wide-spreading murrain reduces whole tribes to destitution,
-causes thousands of human beings literally to die of starvation.
-Little wonder, then, that every thought and aspiration of the
-Kirghiz is bound up with his herds, that his manners and customs
-correspond to this intimate connection between man and beast, that
-the man is, in short, dependent on the animal.</p>
-
-<p>Not the most useful, but the noblest and the most highly prized
-of all the domesticated animals of the Kirghiz is the horse, which in
-the eyes of its owner represents the sum and essence of domestication,
-and the climax of all beauty; it is a standard by which to
-reckon, according to which wealth or poverty is determined. He
-does not call it a horse, but simply the domestic animal; instead of
-the words “left and right” he uses the expressions, “the side on
-which one mounts a horse”, and “the side on which one carries the
-knout”. The horse is the pride of youth and maiden, of man and
-woman, whether young or old; to praise or find fault with a horse
-is to praise or blame its rider, a blow given to a horse one is not
-riding is aimed not at the horse but at its owner.</p>
-
-<p>A large number of the Kirghiz songs refer to the horse; it is
-used as a standard of comparison to give an estimate of the worth
-of men and women, or to describe human beauty.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent0">“Little bride, little bride,</div>
-<div class="verse indent0">Dear foal of the dark brood-mare!”</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_459">[Pg 459]</span></p>
-
-<p>the singer calls to the bride who is being led into the bridegroom’s
-yurt;</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent0">“Say where is the play of the white locks</div>
-<div class="verse indent0">And where the play of the foals,</div>
-<div class="verse indent0">For kind as is the new father,</div>
-<div class="verse indent0">He is not the old father to me,”</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>the bride answers to the youths who sing the “Jarjar”, the song of
-consolation to the departing bride, referring by the words “Foal-play”
-to the time of her first love.</p>
-
-<p>The wealth of a man is expressed in the number of horses he
-possesses; payment for a bride is made in the value of so many
-horses; the maiden who is offered as a prize to the winner in a
-race is held as being worth a hundred mares; horses are given as
-mutual presents; with horses atonement is made for assassination
-or murder, limbs broken in a struggle, an eye knocked out, or for
-any crime or misdemeanour; one hundred horses release from ban
-and outlawry the assassin or murderer of a man, fifty, of a woman,
-thirty, of a child. The fine imposed by the tribe for injuring
-any one’s person or property is paid in horses; for the sake of a
-horse even a respectable man becomes a thief. The horse carries
-the lover to his loved one, the bridegroom to the bride, the hero to
-battle, the saddle and clothing of the dead from one camping-place
-to another; the horse carries man and woman from yurt to yurt,
-the aged man as well as the child firmly bound to his saddle, or
-the youthful rider who sits for the first time free. The rich man
-estimates his herds as equivalent to so many horses; without a
-horse a Kirghiz is what a man without a home is among us; without
-a horse he deems himself the poorest under the sun.</p>
-
-<p>The Kirghiz has thoroughly studied the horse, he knows all its
-habits, its merits and defects, its virtues and vices, knows what
-benefits and what injures it; sometimes, indeed, he expects an
-incredible amount from it, but he never exacts it unless necessity
-compels him. He does not treat it with the affectionate care of the
-Arab, but neither does he ever show the want of consideration of
-many other peoples. One does not see anything of that careful
-and intelligent breeding of horses which is practised by Arabs and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_460">[Pg 460]</span>
-Persians, English and Germans, but he does constantly endeavour
-to secure the improvement of his favourite breeds by only placing
-the best stallions with the mares, and castrating the rest. Unfortunately
-his choice of breeding-horses is determined solely
-by form, and does not take colour into consideration at all, the
-consequence being that many of his horses are exceedingly ugly,
-because their colouring is so irregular and unequal. The training of
-the horse leaves much to be desired; our wandering herdsman is
-much too rich in horses for this to be otherwise.</p>
-
-<p>We found the Kirghiz horse a pleasant and good-natured creature,
-although it by no means fulfilled our ideal of beauty in all
-respects. It is of medium size and slender build, with a head not
-ugly though rather large, decidedly ram-nosed, and noticeably
-thickened by the prominent lower jaw-bones, a moderately long
-and powerful neck, a long body, fine limbs, and soft hair. Its eyes
-are large and fiery, its ears somewhat large, but well-shaped. Mane
-and tail have fine, long hair, always abundant, the hair of the tail
-growing so luxuriantly that it sweeps the ground; the legs are well
-formed, but rather slim, the hoofs are upright, but often rather
-too high. Light colours prevail and very ugly piebalds often offend
-the eye. The commonest colours are brown, light-brown, fox-coloured,
-dun, and bay, more rare are dark-brown and black, and
-one only occasionally sees a gray. The mane and tail greatly
-increase the beauty of all the light-coloured horses, because they
-are either black or much lighter than the body hairs.</p>
-
-<p>The temper of the animal is worthy of all praise. The Kirghiz
-horse is fiery, yet extremely good-natured, courageous in the
-presence of all known dangers, and only nervous, skittish, and
-timid when it is bewildered for a moment by something unusual;
-it is spirited and eager in its work, obedient, docile, willing, energetic,
-and very enduring, but it is chiefly valuable for riding, and
-requires long breaking-in to make it of use as a draught animal, in
-which capacity it is much less valuable than as a riding-horse.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f71">
-<a href="images/fig71big.jpg">
-<img src="images/fig71.jpg" alt="" />
-</a>
-<p class="caption">Fig. 67.&mdash;Life among the Kirghiz&mdash;the Return from the Chase.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>It has a particularly disagreeable habit, for which the Kirghiz is
-certainly more to blame than the animal, of constantly eating or at
-least nibbling on the way; it even attempts to satisfy its appetite in
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_463">[Pg 463]</span>the most difficult situations, as in wading through rocky mountain
-torrents or climbing steep precipices. It is as insatiable as all other
-domesticated animals accustomed to roam freely over the steppe,
-but in its association with others of its species, except in the
-breeding season, it is as peaceable as it is obedient and submissive
-to its master.</p>
-
-<p>The poorer Kirghiz possess only horses enough to provide a
-mount for each member of the family, and to ensure the continuance
-of their stock. The richer dwellers on the steppe, on the
-other hand, have four or five, indeed I have often been assured as
-many as ten or twelve thousand head, which feed in separate herds,
-and at different places, and therefore, naturally enough, thrive
-better than those of their poorer brethren. Each herd consists of
-at least fifteen, or at most fifty individuals; in the latter case it
-comprises one fully-grown stallion, nine brood-mares, and as many
-young foals, eight two-year-olds, six or eight three-year-olds, and
-five or six four-year-olds, besides some older animals or geldings.
-The stallion is absolute lord and master, guide, leader, and protector
-of the herd, and he never lets himself be deprived of a single foal
-by the wolf, but attacks that cowardly robber boldly and successfully,
-striking him to the ground with his hoofs if he shows fight. But
-he will not tolerate a rival, and drives out all other stallions from
-the herd as soon as they come to maturity; when he enters on
-his leadership he drives away his own mother, and later his own
-daughters. This proud wilfulness necessitates the greatest watchfulness
-on the part of the herdsman during the pairing time, lest
-he lose the expelled mares which are seeking a new sultan, or the
-stallions which are striving for their own independence. The
-young mare reaches maturity in her fifth year, and the following
-spring, usually in March, she brings forth her first foal. She is
-not at once separated from the rest of the herd, but in May she
-and her foal are brought into the neighbourhood of the yurt, and
-for four months she is regularly milked to provide the famous
-koumiss or milk-wine. In autumn, mother and young are allowed
-to rejoin the herd. Both are received without hesitation, and they
-enjoy their newly-recovered freedom to the full.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_464">[Pg 464]</span></p>
-
-<p>Apart from the horse, the most useful, and therefore the most
-important domestic animal of our nomadic herdsman, is the sheep.
-This animal is very large and well-built, but very much disfigured
-by the protuberances of fat on the rump. The massive body rests
-upon long but powerful legs; the head is small, the nose narrow
-and blunt, the ears pendulous or erect, the horns weak, the skin
-hard but thick, the udder very much developed, the fat rump often
-so enormous that the creature can no longer carry it, but bending
-its knees lets it drag on the ground, unless the herdsman comes
-to its aid by fixing a little two-wheeled cart under the tail, and
-placing the burdensome appendage on that. When the Kirghiz
-rams are crossed with sheep without this protuberance, their
-descendants acquire the singular appendage in two or three generations,
-while if smooth-tailed rams be paired continuously with fat-rumped
-sheep the reverse takes place.</p>
-
-<p>Though the character of the Kirghiz sheep resembles that of
-our sheep in all important respects, it cannot be disputed that the
-free life on the steppes, the long journeys which have to be made,
-and the difficulties which have to be surmounted in the course of
-these have developed its physical and mental capacities to an
-incomparably higher degree than is attained by our domestic sheep.
-Nevertheless, even in the steppe the clever goat acts as leader and
-guide to the relatively stupid sheep, and it is therefore only right
-that I should describe the goat next.</p>
-
-<p>The Kirghiz goat is of medium size, massive and well-built, the
-body powerful, the neck short, the head small, the limbs well-proportioned,
-the eye large and bright, the glance full of expression,
-the erect ear pointed, the horns comparatively weak, and either
-directed backwards and outwards or half turned on their axes, the
-hair abundant, especially on beard and tail, that on the forehead
-being long and curled; the prevailing colouring is beautiful pure
-white with black markings.</p>
-
-<p>The Kirghiz always treat sheep and goats exactly alike, and
-they feed together in flocks. The poor Kirghiz of one aul make
-up a flock among them, the rich man, whose beasts are numbered
-by many thousands, has often several. The shepherd, usually a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_465">[Pg 465]</span>
-biggish boy, rides on an ox beside his flock, but he understands so
-well how to manage his steed and make it trot, that he can overtake
-the fleetest goat. Once as we were returning from a hunting
-expedition, we met a shepherd who, by way of amusement, rode
-along for quite a quarter of an hour beside our briskly-trotting
-horses, yet his singular steed showed no signs of fatigue. Only
-the shepherds belonging to the Tartar sheep-owners ride on horses.
-In hazardous parts of their journeys, such as crossing a rapid
-stream, or climbing among the mountains, the goats take the lead,
-and here, as everywhere else, the sheep follow them blindly.</p>
-
-<p>As hay can only be gathered and stacked in the most favoured
-spots, the birth of lambs and kids in autumn is prevented; it therefore
-always takes place in spring, and the young ones have thus
-every chance to thrive well and grow rapidly. New-born lambs
-and kids are taken into the yurt at once, and they soon become so
-well accustomed to it that they only quit the comfortable tent with
-piteous bleatings when circumstances render it necessary. Later
-on they are put into a shelter near the winter-dwelling. In the
-open steppe this shelter is a simple hollow in the ground, over
-which the cold wind blows almost unfelt; finally they are secured
-to the rope called a <i>kögön</i>, which is stretched between strong poles
-in front of every yurt. As soon as they begin to graze they are
-driven out in flocks by themselves to the open steppe, and brought
-back to the yurt towards evening. Thus they become accustomed
-from their earliest youth to the free life of the steppes, to wind
-and tempest, storm and rain.</p>
-
-<p>In comparison with horses, sheep, and goats, cattle play a very
-subordinate part. Herds of them are certainly to be seen in the
-neighbourhood of every aul, but they are quite out of proportion to
-the numbers of sheep and goats. The ox is larger and better built
-than that of the Russian and Siberian peasants, but it is far behind
-the Chinese ox, and cannot for a moment be compared with any
-noteworthy breed of Western Europe. It is of medium size and
-fleshy, its coat is short and smooth-haired, its horns long and
-curved, its prevailing colour a beautiful, warm red-brown. The
-cattle are sent out to graze in rather large herds, with no supervision<span class="pagenum" id="Page_466">[Pg 466]</span>
-of any kind, the milch cows being enticed back to the yurt
-solely by the calves which are tied up and tended there, while the
-bulls roam about as they please, and often remain away from the
-aul for several days at a time.</p>
-
-<p>Though all the large auls possess camels, by no means every
-Kirghiz owns one, and even the richest among them seldom possess
-more than fifty head. For the camel is rightly considered the most
-perishable of all the stock owned by the nomadic herdsmen of this
-steppe; its real home lies farther to the south and east. In the
-part of the steppe through which we travelled only the two-humped
-camel is reared, but south of the Balkhash Lake and in Central
-Asia preference is given to the dromedary. The two species cross
-here and produce strange hybrids in which the two humps are
-almost fused into one.</p>
-
-<p>The camel of the central steppe belongs to one of the lighter
-breeds, and is therefore not nearly so massive and awkward as
-those which are to be seen in most zoological gardens, but it is
-quite as thickly covered with hair. Nevertheless, it does not stand
-cold nearly so well as the other domestic animals of the Kirghiz,
-and requires a felt mat to kneel down or rest on, and even then it
-often takes cold and dies. While shedding its hair it has to be enveloped
-in a felt covering, and in summer it has to be protected from
-mosquitoes and gadflies else it will succumb; in short, it is the object
-of constant anxiety, and is therefore not suited to a poor man, who
-feels every loss with threefold force. It resembles the dromedary
-in being easily satisfied in the matter of food, and in displaying the
-blind rage characteristic of the pairing-time, when it menaces even
-its usually loved master, but, for the rest of the year, it differs from
-the dromedary, very much to its own advantage, in docility and
-gentleness. Having been accustomed to the dromedary for many
-years, I was particularly struck by these excellent qualities in the
-steppe camel; I hardly recognized the race. The camel allows itself
-to be caught without resisting, and kneels down to be laden, if not
-altogether without grumbling, at least without the horrible, nerve-shattering
-bellowing of the dromedary. Even at a trot it carries
-light burdens uncomplainingly, covering twenty miles or more in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_467">[Pg 467]</span>
-the course of a day; if its load slips, it stops of its own accord.
-With a rider it can cover about thirty miles a day; with a weight
-of eight cwts. on its back, compelling it to a slow but striding step,
-it should manage at least half that distance. It grazes almost
-always in the vicinity of the yurt, in company with all its fellows
-of the aul, and in the eyes of the Kirghiz it is to a certain extent a
-sacred animal.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f72">
-<img src="images/fig72.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig 68.&mdash;Kirghiz with Camels.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>The dog, which is the least valued animal owned by the Kirghiz,
-is always large but not always beautiful, though the difference<span class="pagenum" id="Page_468">[Pg 468]</span>
-between it and the hideous curs to be met with elsewhere in Siberia
-and Turkestan is very marked and greatly in its favour. The head
-is long but rather heavy, the limbs more like those of a greyhound
-than a sheep-dog, the hair long and woolly, the colouring very varied.</p>
-
-<p>Watchful and courageous in the highest degree, he is a worthy
-adversary of the wolf, an efficient and careful protector of the
-weaker herds, a suspicious sentinel towards strangers, the faithful
-slave of his master, an unsociable recluse as far as grown-up people
-are concerned, but the willing playmate of the children. He has
-many of the virtues of his race, and is therefore to be found in
-every yurt or at least in every aul.</p>
-
-<p>The whole life of the Kirghiz centres in his herds,&mdash;making use
-of them and their products, and to that end tending them carefully.
-The former is the chief occupation of the women, the latter the most
-important work of the men. With the exception of the bones,
-which are thrown away unheeded, every portion of the body of
-every one of their animals is used, just as every female among the
-live stock is milked as long as possible. The quantity of vegetable
-food used by the Kirghiz is extremely small; milk and meat form
-his chief diet in all circumstances, and vegetable products are merely
-accessory. Bread, in the real sense of the word, he scarcely uses at
-all, and even the little lumps of dough which may be reckoned as
-such, are sodden in fat, not baked. Flour and rice,&mdash;the latter a
-frequent dish only among the rich,&mdash;also serve to give variety to
-the everlasting monotony of milk and meat dishes. Little wonder
-then that death from starvation threatens the Kirghiz, indeed too
-often overtakes him, when general murrain breaks out among his
-beasts in the midst of the steppe.</p>
-
-<p>The wealthier people keep the milk of sheep and goats separate
-from that of cows, and of mares and camels; poor people mix all the
-milk in one vessel, and thus get only the effect of sheep’s milk,
-while the rich secure some differentiation of palatal pleasure. From
-the milk of sheep and goats, which is invariably milked into the
-same vessel and collected in the same leathern bottle, they prepare
-not only various dishes, which are eaten at once with or without
-flour, but also butter, small, sour or bitter, gritty cheeses, most<span class="pagenum" id="Page_469">[Pg 469]</span>
-distasteful to a European palate, and a yellow curd very agreeable
-even to our taste, which, like the cheese, is stored up for use in
-winter, when it is dissolved in water to make a sort of soup. Cow’s
-milk, on the other hand, they use chiefly as sour milk, and only
-rarely make into curds, cheese, or butter, while that of mares and
-camels is used for making the koumiss so often described. This is
-a milk-wine made by allowing milk to ferment for four days, and
-by constantly shaking and beating it. It is much appreciated, and
-indeed justly prized among the Kirghiz, and the well-to-do among
-them often drink it to intoxication on festive occasions.</p>
-
-<p>During summer even the wealthier Kirghiz live almost entirely
-on milk in various forms, for they only kill a member of their herd
-for a festival or on some specially important occasion. When winter
-sets in, however, sheep and goats, horses and cattle, even camels are
-killed. The flesh of the horse, especially of the mare, is looked on
-as the noblest, that of cattle as the worst and poorest food. The
-flesh of sheep ranks next to horse flesh; camel flesh is good for the
-soul’s health; goat flesh is a mark of poverty, or is set before a guest
-in expression of contempt. Of the slaughtered horse the loins are
-most highly prized, and the breast of the sheep. A dainty of the
-first order is the belly fat of a young horse; this is therefore salted,
-made into smoked sausages, and set before the honoured guest with
-as much ceremony as the koumiss itself.</p>
-
-<p>The Kirghiz turns to profit not only the edible portions but
-every usable part of the animals he rears. From the wool of the
-sheep he prepares the indispensable felt; he weaves and spins the
-hair of the camel, and the mother lays her new-born babe in its soft
-down-like under wool. The long hair of the goat is made into
-fringes for rugs and cloths, or into tassels or cords; the short woolly
-hair is spun and woven into bands for the yurt, and the hair of the
-horse’s mane and tail is plaited into much-prized leading-reins or
-cords for the yurt. Sheep-skin furnishes the ordinary winter fur
-coat; the skins of lambs and kids make valuable fur-trimmings;
-the flocks of wool rubbed off make good wadding for lining other
-garments, and the skins of all the animals supply leather of different
-kinds. The Kirghiz barters the superfluous or little-prized fat of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_470">[Pg 470]</span>
-his beasts, and some of his sheep, cattle, and horses for various
-other commodities of the general market; with the proceeds of
-the sale of his herds he pays his taxes and tributes, buys the
-uncoined silver with which he loves to make a display, the iron
-which he works, the rugs, garments, and silk stuffs with which he
-decks his person and his yurt. The herds are and must remain
-the sole support and source of wealth of the nomadic herdsman; the
-little land which he occasionally ploughs, sows, waters, and reaps is
-hardly worth taking into account.</p>
-
-<p>It is not their own humour, but the necessity of satisfying the
-requirements of their stock, that regulates the roamings and sojournings
-of the Kirghiz, that compels them to wander this way to-day and
-that to-morrow, to rest for a little in one place, and shortly afterwards
-to leave it for another. The journeyings of these people are therefore
-by no means aimless wanderings about the vast steppe, but
-carefully-considered changes of residence determined by the season,
-and by the species of animal requiring fresh pasture. The steppe
-allows no planless roaming either in summer or winter, autumn or
-spring; aimless roving would expose the herds in winter to the
-most terrible storms, in summer to the danger of drought; in spring
-there would probably be an embarrassing superfluity of fodder, and
-by autumn the supply would have unpleasantly diminished. So
-the Kirghiz begins his journey from the low-lying plains, ascends
-slowly to the higher ground and even to the mountains, then moves
-slowly back to the low grounds again. But the various herds have
-different needs: sheep and goats like hard, fragrant plants such as
-are to be found on the salt steppe; horses prefer the mountain
-plants, especially those growing among masses of rock, while the
-favourite grazing-ground of cattle is soft meadow-land, and camels,
-besides eating the hard salt steppe plants, appear to look upon
-thorns and thistles as an indispensable part of their food. The well-to-do,
-who can group the different animals in separate herds, let
-each herd wander and feed by itself, and only the poorer people
-move from one place to another with all their stock together.
-Finally, the movements of one party are influenced by those of
-another. There are, indeed, no landmarks nor boundary stones, but<span class="pagenum" id="Page_473">[Pg 473]</span>
-even in the open steppe rights of possession and definite boundaries
-are recognized by ancient agreement; every horde, every branch of
-a horde, every community, the members of every aul, claim a right
-to the land traversed by their forefathers, and suffer no strange
-herd or herdsman to encroach on it, but take to arms and wage
-bloody warfare with every intruder, even with other members of
-the same tribe. This explains the fact that the nomad herdsman
-not only travels along definite routes, but restricts himself to a
-strictly limited range. His path may occasionally cross that of
-another herdsman, but it is never the same, for each respects the
-rights of the other, and is prevented by the rest of his tribe from
-encroaching upon them.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f73">
-<img src="images/fig73.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 69.&mdash;Kirghiz and their Herds on the March in the Mountains.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>“Settled”, in our sense of the word, the Kirghiz never is, unless
-in the grave, but he is not without a home. In the wide sense,
-his home is the district through which he travels, in most cases the
-basin and valley of a small stream or brook, or, in a more restricted
-sense, his winter camping-ground from which he sets forth on his
-journeys, and to which he always returns. In the neighbourhood
-of this camping-ground rest nearly all, if not all his dead; here
-he may even have a fixed dwelling; hither the government sends its
-messengers to collect his taxes or appraise his possessions and count
-the members of his family and of his herds; here he spends, if not
-the happiest, at least the largest part of his life; here, gay and
-careless as he usually is, he passes through his severest and most
-serious trials. The exact locality of the winter dwelling may vary,
-but the camping-ground does not. Indispensable conditions are,
-that it be as much as possible protected from the cold, deadly, north
-and east winds, that the yurt can be erected on a sunny spot, that
-fixed houses may be built without much difficulty, that the necessary
-supply of water be certain, and that sufficient pasturage be available
-within easy distance. These conditions are best fulfilled by
-the valley of a river whose tributaries have cut deeply into the
-surrounding country, where the grass does not dry up in summer, so
-that hay can be cut at the proper season and yet enough food be left
-for the herds in winter, and where, in addition to the dung used for
-fire-lighting, fuel may be procured from the willow-bushes and black<span class="pagenum" id="Page_474">[Pg 474]</span>
-poplars on the river-bank. Other localities are only selected when
-it is a question of taking advantage of some place, such as the salt
-steppe, which has to be avoided in summer because it lacks water,
-that being supplied in sufficient abundance for man and beast as
-soon as snow has fallen. Though the winter dwelling may be a
-fixed one, it is always truly miserable, a musty, damp, dark hut, so
-lightly built that the inmates depend on the snow for thickening
-the walls and roof, and protecting them from storms. These walls
-are occasionally made of piled-up tree-trunks, oftener of rough
-stones, but most frequently of plaited willows or bundles of reeds.
-The roof and thatch are always of reeds. Close beside the dwelling-house
-is a similarly-constructed stable for the young animals, and
-at some distance there is a shelter for the rest of the herds.</p>
-
-<p>In the beginning of winter the Kirghiz moves into such a winter
-dwelling, unless, as is perhaps usually the case, he prefers the much
-more comfortable yurt. The fuel for either has been long ago
-prepared, for in the preceding spring he, or rather his wife, upon
-whom falls all the heavier and more disagreeable work, mixed the
-dung of the herd animals with straw, and worked it into square
-cakes, which were then piled in heaps and dried in the sun. All the
-grass in the immediate neighbourhood has been carefully spared, so
-that the herds may graze as near the dwelling as possible; here, too,
-the hay which has been mown at a distance has been collected. If
-the winter be a good one, that is, if not much snow falls, the herds
-find food enough, but if it be severe, it often renders all precautions
-futile, and levies a toll on his herds heavier than is counterbalanced
-by the spring increase. Thus, in a good winter, cheerfulness prevails
-even in the dark hut of the wandering herdsman, but in a
-severe one, which reduces his beasts to walking skeletons, black
-care and grief visit even the pleasant yurt. In hut and yurt alike
-there is either comfort and plenty or bitter want during that
-much-dreaded season of the year.</p>
-
-<p>It is not till towards the end of April, in many years not before
-the end of May, that the herdsman leaves his winter camp and
-begins to travel. The horses, tended by special herdsmen, move on
-in advance, so as not to annoy the smaller animals. It is not the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_475">[Pg 475]</span>
-lively foals, born, like the kids, a few weeks before, that cause so much
-anxiety; it is the young stallions and mares which are just reaching
-maturity. The foals spring about the whole herd in wanton playfulness,
-but they do not go far from the mother mares, who are
-quietly grazing, and only look up at them now and again. The
-young stallions and mares, on the other hand, cause continual
-uneasiness, and call for the greatest watchfulness on the part of the
-herdsmen, whose numbers are doubled for the time. Now the young
-males fight with the old, dignified, and domineering leader of the
-herd; now the young females throng about the sire till he is compelled
-to drive them away with bites; now one or another of them attempts
-to escape, and rushes, with head against the wind and dilated nostrils,
-out into the steppe. The herdsman at once urges the horse he
-is riding to a gallop, and pursues the fugitive in mad haste up hill
-and down dale; in his right hand he holds the long herdsman’s crook,
-with a noose attached to one end; nearer and nearer he presses on
-the young mare. The dreaded lasso is thrown, and is about to
-descend on her head, when she suddenly swerves to one side, and
-throwing her hind-legs into the air, as if teasing or mocking her
-pursuer, she is off again with renewed speed, and the wild chase
-begins anew, and goes on, until at length the herdsman succeeds in
-catching her, and leading her slowly back to the herd. Entertaining
-though this spectacle may be for the unconcerned spectator, perhaps
-even for the herdsman himself, such mad hunts would disturb the
-quiet and regular progress of the smaller animals, and therefore the
-owner does not let his different herds travel together, if it can be
-avoided. Nor could sheep and goats cover such distances as the
-horses do, for not only are they much enfeebled by the hardships of
-winter, but the lambs and kids are not yet strong enough. Separation
-of the herds is therefore doubly necessary.</p>
-
-<p>The Kirghiz, when journeying with his smaller animals, at first
-only traverses a short distance, a so-called “sheep’s journey” each
-day, and he stops wherever there is good pasture, as long as his
-flocks graze with avidity. On the journey the flock of sheep, with
-its shepherd riding on an ox, leads the way. The sheep proceed at
-a tolerably quick pace, now crowding close together, now scattering<span class="pagenum" id="Page_476">[Pg 476]</span>
-widely, here and there stopping their march to enjoy to the full some
-specially dainty plant, but eating, or at least nibbling, all the time,
-and the herdsman’s steed also grazes uninterruptedly. The flock of
-ewes and mother-goats follows that of the lambs and kids, but at
-such a distance that they see and hear nothing of each other. The
-flock of wethers, if such still exists, or has just been formed, takes a
-different route. After all the flocks and herds have set out, the
-women take down the yurt, load camels or oxen with it and the
-few household requisites, mount their own horses with their children
-and other members of the family, and ride slowly after the milk-giving
-flocks. By mid-day they overtake them, milk them, and,
-carrying the milk in leathern bottles, continue their journey till
-sundown, when they set up the yurt again. One day passes like
-another. When the spring has brought fresh verdure, they remain
-for days, later on for weeks, in the same spot, until the pasturage
-around is growing scarce; then they move on again. When advancing
-spring calls to full life the slumbering insect larvæ, when
-swarms innumerable of gnats, flies, gadflies, and other pests fill the
-air, they direct their steps, if it be at all possible, towards the
-mountains, and climb gradually to the highest plateaus just below
-the snow-line. For the shepherd, who gets no assistance from the
-dogs, it is a hard enough task to guide the flocks over the plains;
-but in the mountains the difficulty of completing his daily “sheep’s
-journey” is immense, and it is impossible for him to get over some
-obstacles without the aid of other riders. As long as there is a
-beaten track the journey goes smoothly on, whether the path winds
-through flowery plains or over slopes and precipices. The leading
-goats survey such places for a little, as if deliberating, then choosing
-their path they go on their way, and the sheep follow them trustfully.
-But it is a different matter when, instead of a murmuring
-brook, a rushing torrent bars the way, and must be crossed. At
-sight of the decidedly hostile element even the bold goats hesitate,
-ready though they are to adapt themselves to all circumstances; but
-the sheep recoil from it in terror, and even climb the nearest rocks
-as if to save themselves. In vain the shepherd rides through the
-rushing flood; in vain he returns and collects his flock on the banks.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_477">[Pg 477]</span>
-The sheep express their anxiety in loud bleatings, even the goats
-bleat hesitatingly, till the shepherd’s patience is exhausted. For
-one moment the fateful sling hangs over the head of one of the
-sheep; the next, it feels itself caught by the neck, pulled up to the
-saddle, and hurled into the seething waters. Now it must shift for
-itself. Swimming spasmodically, or rather making a series of
-springs, it struggles on from one mass of rock to another, but before
-it can gain a footing, it is hurried on by the torrent, and kicks,
-flounders, leaps, and swims again, is every now and then carried
-away by the flood, but eventually reaches the opposite bank, exhausted
-more by terror than by exertion. Trembling in every limb,
-it satisfies itself that it is really on dry land again, shakes its dripping
-fleece, looks back timidly once more, and then begins to feed
-greedily to make up for the discomfort it has suffered. Meanwhile
-the rest of the flock have crossed the torrent one after another,
-either of their own accord or compulsorily, and when all have been
-collected again the march is resumed. In this manner the nomadic
-herdsman gradually reaches the mountains. When it begins to
-grow cold, when perhaps a slight fall of snow suggests the approach
-of winter, herdsman and herd turn downwards again, this time
-through the shadiest gorges, till the low-lying plain is reached, and
-the circle is completed at the winter camping-ground. This is the
-regular yearly routine.</p>
-
-<p>All the Kirghiz domestic animals accustom themselves very
-quickly to the different districts in which they graze, wherever the
-place may be. After having gone to a pasture once or twice, all
-know the way thither again, they find it unfailingly without the
-herdsman, and return of their own accord to the yurt to be milked.
-There is certainly a strong inducement for them to do so, for from
-May onwards the young of all milk-yielding animals are kept from
-their mothers, and yet allowed to graze in the neighbourhood of the
-aul, so that longing for their young is kept alive in the maternal
-hearts. Thus milking can always take place at the same hour,
-and the mistress of the yurt can regulate her work and portion out
-her day.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f74">
-<img src="images/fig74.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 70.&mdash;Kirghiz Aul, or Group of Tents.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>With the exception of the mares, which are always milked by
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_478">[Pg 478]</span>men, and often require the attention of at least two, and not rarely
-of three during the process, all the milking is done by the women.
-Early in the morning the calves, lambs, and kids are allowed to suck
-a little under strict supervision, and are then separated from the
-mothers, old and young being driven to their respective pastures.
-At mid-day the mothers, without the young, are brought to the yurt<span class="pagenum" id="Page_479">[Pg 479]</span>
-to be milked, and again in the evening the mothers are brought in
-before the young for the same purpose. With the help of the dogs,
-which render no other service, the whole flock is gathered into a
-limited space, and the work begins. The mistress and servants of a
-yurt, or those who live together as neighbours in an aul, appear with
-their milk vessels, and dexterously seizing one sheep after another,
-drag it to a rope stretched between poles, pass a sling formed by the
-rope itself round the neck of each, and thus force the animals to
-remain standing in rows with the heads turned inwards, the udders
-outwards. In this manner thirty or forty head of sheep and goats
-are fastened together in a few minutes, and the so-called “kögön”
-is formed. Taught by experience, the animals stand perfectly still
-as soon as they feel the string, and submit passively to all that
-follows. The women, sitting opposite each other, begin at one end,
-or if there are many sheep, at both ends of the double row, seize
-the short teats between forefinger and thumb, and exhaust the milk
-with rapid pulls. If it does not flow freely they shake the udder
-with a blow from the left hand, exactly as the sucking young ones
-do, and only when even by this means nothing more can be obtained
-do they proceed to the next sheep. The men of the yurt or aul, who
-may perhaps have helped to catch and fasten the sheep and goats,
-sit about in all sorts of positions, impossible and almost inconceivable
-to us, and allow their “red tongue” the fullest freedom. Some
-of the little boys make their first venture at riding on the sheep,
-unless they prefer the shoulders of their mothers for that purpose.
-The latter are as little distracted by these doings of their offspring
-as by any other little incidents. Whether they sit on the dry
-ground or in fresh sheep’s dung, whether some of that falls into
-their poplar-wood vessels, affects them little, for the vessel is in any
-case as dirty as the hand which milks; and though sheep’s dung may
-be unclean in our eyes it is not so in those of the Kirghiz, who
-believe in the Koran. At length the milking is at an end and the
-animals, which have been tethered all this time and have been
-ruminating for want of better employment, can be released; a quick
-pull at one end of the cord, all the slings are undone, and the sheep
-and goats are free.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_480">[Pg 480]</span></p>
-
-<p>A general, simultaneous bleating is the first expression of their
-delight in their newly-recovered freedom; a short, quickly-repeated
-shaking throws off the last recollections of their undignified servitude;
-and then they run off as quickly as possible, in the plains as
-far away from the yurt as the herdsman allows, in the mountainous
-districts towards the hills, as if they could only there breathe the air
-of freedom. In reality they are longing to meet their young ones
-as soon as possible. All day long they have been away from them,
-but now, according to all their experience, the little ones must
-appear. The sheep run about bleating continuously, and even the
-intelligent goats look longingly all around as if they wished to find
-out whether the expected flock is already on the way, or at least
-whether it is visible in the far distance. The bleating grows louder
-and louder, for every newly-released row excites all the sheep
-assembled in the neighbourhood of the aul; and the impatience of
-the mothers, which is increasing every minute, finds vent in piteous,
-almost moaning bleatings. The longer the suspense lasts the more
-restless do the mothers become. Aimlessly they wander hither and
-thither, sniff at every blade of grass on the way, but scarcely
-crop any, lift their heads expectantly and joyously, let them droop
-again in disappointed sadness, bleat, and bleat again. The restlessness
-increases almost to frenzy, the bleating becomes a perfect
-bellowing.</p>
-
-<p>From the distance are heard weak, shrill, bleating sounds. They
-do not escape the attentive ears of the mothers. A loud and simultaneous
-call from every throat is the answer; all the maternal
-longing, increased to the utmost by the long waiting, is condensed
-in a single cry. And from the distance, down from the hills towards
-the yurt, the eager lambs and kids come rushing to find their
-mothers; the biggest and strongest in front, the youngest and
-weakest behind, but all hurrying, running and leaping, almost
-enveloped in a cloud of dust; and stretching out into a longer
-procession the nearer they approach their goal. An apparently
-inextricable confusion arises, old and young, united at last, run
-hither and thither, touching each other lightly as they pass, to
-find out, by touch as well as by smell, whether they have found<span class="pagenum" id="Page_481">[Pg 481]</span>
-their own or not; both run on if this is not the case, the lambs
-and kids, however, in most cases only after they have been made
-aware of their mistake by a push or tread from the mother animal.
-Gradually the dense crowd dissolves, for by degrees, in a much
-shorter time than one would imagine, every mother has found her
-child, every child its mother, and the young one now kneels down
-under its parent, eagerly drawing from the udder what milk remains.
-And if the bleating still continues, the sounds are now indicative
-only of the liveliest satisfaction.</p>
-
-<p>But this state of mutual delight does not last long. The
-udders, already milked, are quickly exhausted, and, in spite of all
-the thrusts of the suckling, the fountain will flow no longer. But
-mother and young still enjoy the pleasure of being together. The
-mixed flock spreads out in all directions, the complaisant mother
-following the lively youngster as it climbs the nearest height after
-the manner of its kind, or looking contentedly on when a little kid
-tries its strength in playful combat with another of its own age.
-The whole space round the yurt is picturesquely decorated by the
-lively flocks, a most charming picture of peaceful and comfortable
-pastoral life lies before the eyes of those who have feeling and
-understanding to enjoy it.</p>
-
-<p>The women now allow themselves a short rest, take their children
-in their laps, and fulfil their maternal duties or desires. But
-more work awaits them. A lowing announces the approach of the
-cows, also eager for their share of maternal joy, and the industrious
-women rise hastily, bring the calves which were tied up beforehand
-to the cows, let them suck for a little, wrench them from the udder
-again, and only after milking allow the calves full freedom. Meanwhile
-the shepherds and dogs have once more collected the sheep
-and goats, and now old and young, men and women, boys and girls,
-unite in the work of catching the lambs and fastening them in rows,
-with nooses which are firm without being too tight, to a cord in
-front of the yurt, so that the mothers cannot suckle. As may be
-supposed, this is not completed without much bleating and noise, and
-mingled with it are the cries and wailings of the children wearying
-for their mothers, the lowing of cows, and the barking of dogs.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_482">[Pg 482]</span>
-Only the lambs and kids just tied submit quietly to the inevitable.
-A few kids still try their sprouting horns in playful duels, but they
-soon tire, and lay themselves peaceably down opposite their quondam
-rivals. Before the long row is fastened most of the young ones have
-tucked in their legs and given themselves up to repose. One
-mother-sheep and goat after another sniffs at the little ones till she
-has found her own, but returns to the flock when she has satisfied
-herself that it is impossible to lie down beside her offspring.</p>
-
-<p>The sun has long since disappeared from the horizon, and twilight
-has given place to darkness. It becomes quieter and quieter in the
-yurt. Men and animals have sought and found rest; only the dogs
-begin their rounds under the guidance of a watchful herdsman; but
-even they only bark when there is a real reason for it, when it is
-necessary to scare away some prowling wolf or other thief. A cool,
-but fragrant, dewy summer night descends upon the steppe, and the
-refreshing slumber of this richest and most beautiful season blots
-out the hardships of winter from the memory of man and beast
-alike.</p>
-
-
-<hr class="full x-ebookmaker-drop" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="c18">FAMILY AND SOCIAL LIFE AMONG THE KIRGHIZ.</h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>To escape the threatening hand of justice, four thieves fled from
-the homes of honest men, and sought refuge and concealment in the
-vast steppe. On their flight, they fell in with two beggar-women,
-driven out, like themselves, from among their industrious fellows.
-The beggar-women found favour in the eyes of the thieves, and
-they married them, two thieves taking one woman. A great many
-children resulted from these alliances, so contrary to the laws of
-God and man, and the children became the parents of a numerous
-people who spread over the hitherto uninhabited steppe. But they
-were faithful to their origin&mdash;thieves like their fathers, beggars like
-their mothers, and like both in being without religion or morals.
-This people is the Kirghiz, whose name signifies “Robber”.</p>
-
-<p>Thus a religious Tartar poet pictures the origin, and describes the
-character of a people closely related to his own, who speak the same<span class="pagenum" id="Page_483">[Pg 483]</span>
-language, and worship the same God according to the precepts of
-the same prophet. He speaks thus, solely because the Kirghiz, in
-matters of religion, cling less slavishly to words, and think less
-narrowly than he does. His words simply illustrate the old and
-ever new story; the offence which the poet’s words express is constantly
-repeated among every people, the pious lie, which no sect
-has shrunk from uttering, to lower the credit of those who think
-differently from themselves.</p>
-
-<p>But the traveller who sojourns among the Kirghiz, the stranger
-who seeks and receives hospitality under the light roof of their
-yurt, the scholar who endeavours to investigate their manners and
-customs, the official who lives among them as guardian of the law,
-or as representative of the State; in a word, everyone who has
-much intercourse with them, and is unprejudiced, gives an account
-of them widely different from that of the Tartar poet.</p>
-
-<p>There was a time when the Kirghiz in general justified their
-name, but this time has long gone by, at least as far as most
-branches of the different hordes are concerned. The sentiments,
-the adventurous expeditions, and brigand exploits of their fathers
-may awaken an echo in the breast of every Kirghiz; but, on the
-whole, these horsemen of the steppe have submitted to the laws of
-their present rulers, live at peace among themselves, as well as with
-their neighbours, respect the rights of property, and do not rob and
-steal oftener or more than other people, but rather more rarely and
-less. Under Russian dominion the Kirghiz of to-day live in such
-satisfactory circumstances, that their fellow-tribesmen beyond the
-boundaries look with envy on the Russian subjects. Under the
-protection of their government they enjoy quietness and peace,
-security of property, and religious freedom; they are almost entirely
-exempt from military service, and are taxed in a manner which
-must be acknowledged as reasonable in every respect; they have
-the right of choosing their own district governors, and many other
-privileges to the enjoyment of which the Russians themselves have
-not as yet attained. Unfortunately, these governors are not so
-reasonable as the government, and they hamper, oppress, and overreach
-the Kirghiz whenever and in whatever way they can. But,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_484">[Pg 484]</span>
-happily, they have not been able in any way to influence the manners
-and customs of the people.</p>
-
-<p>The Kirghiz are a race of true horsemen, and can scarcely be
-thought of apart from their horses; they grow up with the foal
-and live with the horse till death. It is not, indeed, on horseback
-only that the Kirghiz is at home, for he understands how to ride
-every kind of animal which can bear him at all: but the horse is
-always, and under all circumstances, his favourite bearer and most
-cherished companion. He transacts all his business on horseback,
-and the horse is looked upon as the only steed worthy of a man.
-Men and women ride in the same fashion, not a few of the women
-with the same skill as the men. The position of the rider is lazy
-and comfortable, not very pleasing to the eye of the spectator. The
-Kirghiz rides in short buckled stirrups, without a leg-guard,
-touching the front edge of the saddle with the knees only, and thus
-balancing himself freely; trotting, he raises himself in the stirrups,
-often standing upright in them, and bending his head so far forward
-that it almost touches the horse’s neck; when the horse walks or
-gallops, as it usually does, he holds himself erect. He holds the
-reins with the whole hand. The knout, which is held by the loop or
-knot, he uses with the thumb, index and middle fingers. Falling out
-of the saddle is by no means a rare occurrence, for he takes not the
-slightest heed of ways and paths, but leaves the horse to find these
-for itself. And even if he be of more careful mood, he will take
-any path which the beast can tread, with as little hesitation as he
-mounts the wildest, most intractable horse. Difficult paths do not
-exist for him; in fact, path simply means the distance across a given
-area; what may lie between the beginning and the end of the
-journey is to him a matter of the utmost indifference. As long as
-he is in the saddle he expects incredible things of his steed, and
-gallops uphill or downhill, over firm ground or through bog, morass,
-or water; without giddiness or any of the fear which seizes him
-when afoot, he climbs precipices which any other rider would deem
-impassable, and looks calmly down from the saddle into the abyss
-by the side of the goat-track, which he calls a road, where even the
-most expert mountaineer would be unable to repress a shudder.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_485">[Pg 485]</span>
-When he has dismounted, he acts upon all the rules deduced from
-long experience for the care of an over-strained horse, and is as
-careful of it as he had previously been inconsiderate. On festive
-occasions the Kirghiz performs feats of horsemanship for the
-amusement of the spectators, who are never awanting; he raises
-himself erect in the stirrups, which are crossed over the saddle, and
-springs from them without falling, he holds fast to the saddle or
-stirrups with his hands, and stretches his legs into the air, or hangs
-from one side of the saddle, and attempts to pick up some object
-from the ground, but he does not seem to practise the military sports
-of his Turkish relatives. Racing is to him the greatest of all
-pleasures, and every festival is celebrated by a race.</p>
-
-<p>To the race, which is called “Baika”, only the finest horses, and
-of these only amblers are usually admitted. The distances to be
-traversed are always considerable,&mdash;never less than twenty, and
-frequently forty kilometres: the riders make for a certain point in
-the steppe, such as a hillock, or a burial-place, and then return as
-they went. Boys of seven, eight, or at most ten years of age, sit
-in the saddle, and guide the horses with remarkable skill. The
-spectators ride slowly to meet the returning horses, give help, called
-“guturma”, to the steed which seems to have most chance of winning,
-by taking off the little rider, seizing reins, stirrups, mane, and
-tail, and leading, or rather dragging it to the goal between fresh
-horses. The prizes raced for consist of various things, but are always
-reckoned as equivalent to so many horses. Two or three thousand
-silver roubles are frequently offered as the first prize: among the
-richer families the stakes are one hundred horses or their equivalent.
-Young girls, too, are sometimes offered as prizes, the winner of one
-being allowed to marry her without making the usual payment
-to her family.</p>
-
-<p>While the race-horses are on their way, the men often pass the
-time by exercising their own physical powers. Two men divest
-themselves of their outer garments, baring the shoulders and upper
-parts of the body, and begin to wrestle. The mode of attack varies.
-The combatants seize one another, bend towards one another, turn
-about in a circle, each always watching the other carefully, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_486">[Pg 486]</span>
-seeking to parry every effort, real or feigned, till suddenly one of
-them exerts his full strength, and the other, if he has not foreseen
-this, is thrown to the ground. Others begin the attack more
-impetuously, but meet with such strenuous resistance that the
-struggle lasts a long time before one succeeds in vanquishing his
-opponent. The spectators encourage them, praise and blame, cheer
-and scoff, betting among themselves the while, and becoming more
-and more excited as the balance inclines to one side or the other.
-At length, one lies on the ground, laughed at by the whole company,
-ashamed and humiliated, in his secret heart probably embittered.
-Cries from every throat fill the air, pieces of cloth, perhaps only
-rags of cotton, are torn up and distributed to balance accounts;
-reproaches mingle with shouts of applause, and the match is over,
-unless the vanquished one suddenly seeks his revenge, and attacks
-his Opponent once more. A wrestling match never comes to an
-end without noise, screaming, and wrangling, but actual fighting
-seldom takes place.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f75">
-<img src="images/fig75.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 71.&mdash;Hunting the Wolf with the Golden Eagle.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Hunting must be reckoned among the equestrian sports of the
-Kirghiz. When a sportsman gets on the track Of a wolf, he follows
-it with such eagerness and persistence that he takes little heed though
-the cold, doubly felt when riding quickly, should seriously imperil
-him, that is, if his face and hands should become frozen; for, if his
-horse holds out, he almost certainly succeeds at length in throwing
-his heavy club at his victim’s head. But his favourite mode of
-hunting is with eagles and greyhounds. Like his forefathers, he
-understands how to tame and carry the golden eagle, and with the
-bird sitting on his thickly-gloved hand, which is supported on a
-wooden rest fastened to the saddle, he ascends some hillock from
-which he can command a wide view. Meanwhile, his companions
-beat the surrounding steppe for game. The game may be wolf or
-fox, unless the eagle is not yet thoroughly trained, in which case it
-is either a marmot or a fox. No very special training of the eagle
-is required; it is only necessary that it be taken young from the
-nest, that it be always fed by the sportsman himself, and that it be
-taught to return to its master at his call: inherited habit does the
-rest. As soon as the beaters have started a fox, the huntsman
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_487">[Pg 487]</span>unhoods and unchains his bird, and lets it fly. The eagle spreads
-its wings, begins to circle, and rises in a spiral higher and higher,
-spies the hard-pressed fox, flies after him, descends obliquely upon
-him with half-closed wings, and strikes its outspread talons into
-its victim’s body. The fox turns round in a fury, and attempts
-to seize his foe with his sharp teeth; if he succeeds, the eagle is<span class="pagenum" id="Page_488">[Pg 488]</span>
-lost. But almost all these birds of prey, which are as strong as
-they are bold, have an instinctive feeling of such danger, and the
-skill to avoid it. The very moment the fox turns, the eagle lets go
-its hold, and an instant later its talons are fixed in its quarry’s face.
-Triumphant acclamations from its much-loved master, who now
-draws near, encourage the eagle to hold fast, and a few minutes
-later the fox, felled by the huntsman, lies dying on the ground.
-Many an eagle has to pay for the boldness of its first venture with
-its life; but if the first attempt is successful, it soon becomes so
-skilful that it can be flown at a wolf. Though the attack on the
-wolf is made in precisely the same manner, the eagle’s bearing is,
-from the very beginning, perceptibly more cautious; the size of the
-wolf teaches it that it has to do with a much more dangerous foe.
-But it learns to vanquish even the wolf, and its fame, as well as
-its master’s, spreads abroad among the people, and as its renown
-becomes greater its value increases. An eagle which can kill a fox
-is worth thirty or forty silver roubles; one which can vanquish
-a wolf is valued at twice or three times as much, if, indeed, its
-master would sell it at all. It is not possible to hunt with two
-eagles, as one would disturb the other; but one alone often enters
-into the chase with so much ardour that it makes it very difficult
-for its master to help, especially if it will not willingly let go
-its hold of the quarry it has seized.</p>
-
-<p>If the Kirghiz who is hunting with an eagle requires to bring
-all his powers of horsemanship into play, that is still more necessary
-when hunting antelopes with greyhounds. These rather long-haired
-dogs run like shot arrows when they have sighted the game, and
-the rider courses after them up hill and down dale until he and
-they have overtaken the fleet fugitive. If anyone falls on such
-a ride, he earns only a half-pitying, half-mocking smile, as the mad
-hunt rushes past him.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f76">
-<img src="images/fig76.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 72.&mdash;Kirghiz in pursuit of Wild Sheep.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Even when driving game among the mountains, the Kirghiz do
-not dismount from their horses. It was a magnificent sight to see
-the horsemen who were driving wild sheep for our guns in the
-Arkat mountains begin their break-neck ride. Here and there on
-the highest points, as well as in the hollows, valleys, and ravines<span class="pagenum" id="Page_491">[Pg 491]</span>
-between them, one horseman after another showed up clearly
-against the clouds, and was lost to view again between masses of
-rock, to appear shortly afterwards upon the stony slopes. None
-dismounted, none hesitated an instant to choose his path. It was
-easier for them to ride among the mountains than to walk.</p>
-
-<p>The sportsman’s endurance is on a par with his boldness. Not
-only on horseback, but while stalking and lying in wait for his
-game, he shows marvellous perseverance. That he follows a trail
-for several days is not remarkable, when we take his love of
-riding into account; but with the matchlock, which he still uses
-as often as the flintlock, in his hand, he will creep for five or six
-hundred yards along the ground like a stealthy cat, or lie in wait
-for hours in storm and rain until the game comes within range of
-his gun. He never shoots at long range, and never without resting
-the barrel of his gun on the fork attached to it, but he aims with
-certainty, and knows exactly where to send his bullet.</p>
-
-<p>Though the Kirghiz is thus persistent and untiring as horseman,
-sportsman, and herdsman, he is very unwilling to do any other kind
-of work. He tills the fields, but in the most careless manner, and
-never more than is absolutely imperative. Tilling the soil appears
-to him as inglorious as every other employment not connected with
-his flocks and herds. He is remarkably skilful in turning water
-aside for purposes of irrigation, has a highly-developed sense of
-locality, and can mark out his drains without using a surveyor’s
-table or water-level. But it is only in his boyhood that he takes
-up such work with any willingness; after he has attained to possessions
-of his own he never touches pick or shovel again. Still less
-does he like to work at any trade. He knows how to prepare
-leather, to fashion it into all kinds of straps and saddlery, and to
-decorate these very tastefully with iron or silver work, and he can
-even make knives and weapons, but when he does such work, it is
-always unwillingly and without taking any pleasure in it. Yet he
-is by no means a lazy or careless workman, but is diligent and conscientious,
-and whoever has succeeded in gaining his skilful hand
-has seldom reason to be dissatisfied with it.</p>
-
-<p>He rates mental work much more highly than physical. His<span class="pagenum" id="Page_492">[Pg 492]</span>
-eager, active mind demands occupation, and thus he likes not only
-light conversation, but serious discussions of all kinds, chiefly, perhaps,
-because of the variety they give to his monotonous life. So
-he amuses himself in converse with others of his tribe, and he can
-become a perfect bore to a stranger with his glibness of speech,
-which often degenerates to mere chatter. With this love of talking
-is closely connected a thirst for knowledge, which in the same way
-often degenerates into inquisitiveness, for the “red tongue” is never
-allowed a holiday. Whatever the wind blows over the steppe the
-listening ear of the Kirghiz picks up and the “red tongue” clothes
-in words. If anything is discussed which the Kirghiz understands
-or does not understand, if any conversation takes place in a language
-with which he is acquainted, he has no hesitation in making
-his way to the yurt and, invited or otherwise, pressing his ear to
-its walls, so as to lose no syllable. To keep to himself an occurrence
-which differs from the everyday routine by a hair’s-breadth,
-an event of any kind, a piece of information, or a secret, is to the
-Kirghiz an utter impossibility. Does the noble horse keep silence
-when he sees anything which excites his interest, or the sheep and
-the goat when they meet with their fellows? Does the lark soar
-up from its nest on the steppe in silence? And shall the lord of the
-steppe be more silent than they? Never! “Speak on, red tongue,
-while thou hast life, for after death thou shalt be still.” An uninterrupted
-stream of speech flows from the lips of every Kirghiz.
-Two men never ride silently together, even though their journey
-lasts for days. The whole time they find something to talk about,
-some communication to make to each other. Usually it does not
-nearly satisfy them to ride in pairs; three or four of them ride
-abreast wherever the path admits of it. This way of riding is so
-deeply rooted in them that the horses press close together of their
-own accord, and a European is obliged to rein them in to prevent
-their doing so. In a yurt filled with Kirghiz there is a buzzing
-like that about a bee-hive, for everyone wishes to speak, and does
-everything he can to gain a hearing.</p>
-
-<p>One good result of this love of talking, so unusual among men,
-is the command of language which they acquire. In this they seem<span class="pagenum" id="Page_493">[Pg 493]</span>
-all alike, rich and poor, high and low, educated and uneducated.
-Their rich, sonorous, but rather hard language, though only a
-dialect of the Tartar, is remarkably expressive. Even a foreigner
-who is unacquainted with it can feel that every word is distinctly
-pronounced, every syllable correctly accented, so that one can
-almost make out the sense from the sound. Their way of speaking
-is very sprightly, the cadence of each phrase corresponding to its
-meaning, and the pauses correctly observed, so that a conversation
-sounds somewhat broken, though the flow of speech is never arrested
-for a moment. An expression of face which speaks for itself, and
-very lively gestures, add to the effect of their speech. If the subject
-be particularly interesting, their vivacity is apt to increase to such
-a pitch of excitement that one begins to fear that from words they
-will go on to blows. But even the most heated wordy strife invariably
-ends in quietness and peace.</p>
-
-<p>It will be readily understood that the bard holds a prominent
-place among such a people. Everyone who distinguishes himself
-above his fellows by his fluency of speech gains respect and honour.
-The presence of a singer who can improvise is indispensable to
-every festival. His creative power need not be of a very high
-order; but his words must flow without interruption and in a
-definite and familiar metre to gain him the reputation of a poet.
-But every Kirghiz bard has at his command a store of poetic ideas
-which is by no means scanty, and to clothe these ideas in words is
-easy enough to him. The nomadic pastoral life, though on the
-whole monotonous, has its charms, and certain chords only require
-to be struck to give keen pleasure to every hearer. Numerous
-sagas and legends, which live in the minds of all, yield abundant
-material for filling up blanks; and thus the bard’s narrative flows
-on like a calm stream whose springs never dry up: it is only necessary
-to keep it in the proper metre to make him a poet for ever.
-Even this is made easy to him; for every bard accompanies his
-recitative on the three-stringed Kirghiz zither, and as he links
-on each measure to the next by playing on this, he can make
-the interlude last until the next verse has taken shape in his mind.
-The speed and skill with which this is done determines his rank<span class="pagenum" id="Page_494">[Pg 494]</span>
-as a poet. But if a woman is inspired to poetry she is sure of
-universal admiration, and if she consents to sing in competition
-with a man, the enthusiastic listeners extol her above all others
-of her sex.</p>
-
-<p>The vast steppe is much less favourable to regular instruction
-than it is to poetry. This explains why so few Kirghiz are able to
-write, and why there is so little written literature. Only the sons
-of the wealthiest and highest in rank among them are taught to
-read and write. In the two schools founded by the government in
-Ustkamenegorsk and Zaizan Kirghiz boys are taught,&mdash;indeed, they
-only are admitted to that in the first-named town,&mdash;but the influence
-of these institutions does not reach to the heart of the steppe.
-There a boy only learns if he happens to come in contact with a
-mollah who has as much desire to teach as the boy has to learn.
-But even then his instruction is confined to the simplest things, and
-consists chiefly in learning to read and form Arabic characters.
-The contents of the principal, if not the only text-book, the Koran,
-are not usually intelligible to the mollah himself; he reads the
-sentences without knowing their meaning. I have only known one
-Kirghiz who understood Arabic, and he was a sultan. Everyone
-else who was distinguished above his fellows by his knowledge of
-the sacred writings, and who, as a faithful adherent of Islam, performed
-the five prescribed prayers, understood at most the words of
-the call to prayer and of the first sentences of the Koran; the rest
-he repeated with the seriousness of all Mohammedans, but without
-understanding the meaning. And yet I was deeply impressed when,
-in the midst of the vast steppe, where no minaret towered up towards
-heaven, the voice of the mueddin uttered the call to prayer, and the
-faithful knelt in long rows behind the Iman or leader, and pressed
-their foreheads to the ground in prayer, as the law of the Prophet
-ordains.</p>
-
-<p>The consciousness of strength and dexterity, of skill in riding
-and hunting, of poetic talent and general mental activity, and the
-feeling of independence and freedom caused by the vastness of the
-steppe gives confidence and dignity to the bearing of the Kirghiz.
-The impression he makes upon an unprejudiced observer is therefore<span class="pagenum" id="Page_495">[Pg 495]</span>
-a very favourable one, and it increases the more intimately one
-becomes acquainted with him. So it was in my case, and it is also
-the opinion of Russians who have associated with Kirghiz for years,
-in particular, of the government officials, and of other travellers who
-have lived among them. It is scarcely too much to say that the
-Kirghiz possesses very many good qualities and very few bad ones,
-or reveals very few to strangers. Mentally wide-awake, shrewd,
-vivacious, intelligent where things known to him are concerned,
-good-humoured, obliging, courteous, kindly, hospitable and compassionate,
-he is, of his kind, a most excellent man, whose bad
-qualities one can easily overlook if one studies him without prejudice.
-He is polite without being servile, treats those above him
-respectfully but without cringing, those beneath him affably but not
-contemptuously. He usually hesitates a little before replying to a
-question, but his answer is quiet and clear, and his sharply-accented
-way of speaking gives it an expression of definiteness. He is
-obliging towards everyone, but does more from ambition than from
-hope of gain, more to earn praise and approval than money or
-money’s worth. The District Governor, Tamar Bey Metikoff, who
-gave us his escort for almost a month, was the most obliging, polite,
-kindly man under the sun, always ready to fulfil a wish of ours,
-untiring in our service or for our benefit, and all this solely in the
-hope of gaining our approval and that of the Governor-general. He
-told us so in the clearest language when we tried to force presents
-upon him.</p>
-
-<p>In harmony with such ambition is the pride of the higher-class
-Kirghiz in his descent and family. He boasts of distant ancestors,
-and occasionally traces back his pedigree to Chingis-Khan, only
-marries with those of equally good birth, suffers no spot on his
-honour, and forgives no insult to it. But in addition, he exhibits
-a personal vanity which one would scarcely expect of him. Not
-only authority and wealth, dignity and rank, but youth and beauty
-are, in his eyes, gifts to be highly esteemed. But he differs from
-many handsome young men among us in that he never descends to
-coxcombry. He boasts openly and without reserve of the gifts
-bestowed on him by nature or acquired by his own skill, but such<span class="pagenum" id="Page_496">[Pg 496]</span>
-boasting is quite natural to him, and is not distorted by any show
-of false modesty. As far as his means will permit he clothes
-himself richly, ornamenting his coat and trousers with braiding, his
-fur cap with the feathers of the horned owl; but he never becomes
-a mere dandy. The women, as may be imagined, are still more
-anxious to set their charms in the best possible light, and I was not
-at all surprised to learn that they prepare from the juice of a certain
-root a delicate, fragrant, and lasting colouring which they apply to
-their cheeks&mdash;in other words, that they paint their faces.</p>
-
-<p>As a natural outcome of his desire to please, the Kirghiz gives a
-willing adherence to all the manners and customs of his people. His
-culture and good breeding manifest themselves chiefly in a strict
-observance of all those customs which have been handed down to
-him from the past, and have been materially influenced by Islam.
-This implies a certain formality and ceremoniousness in all mutual
-intercourse, but it also puts a check on undue arrogance, and
-banishes everything unseemly, almost everything awkward, from
-their social relations, for everyone knows exactly what he has to
-do to avoid giving offence or making himself disagreeable.</p>
-
-<p>Even mutual greeting is attended with a certain amount of
-ceremony which is observed by everyone, and is therefore, of course,
-quite clearly defined. If two parties of Kirghiz meet, a considerable
-time is always taken up in the exchange of greetings. The members
-of both bands simultaneously lay their right hands over the
-region of the heart, and stretch the left hand towards the right of
-the other, whereupon each draws his right hand from his heart and
-joins it with the left, so that now for an instant all four hands are
-in contact. At the moment of embracing, both pronounce the
-Arabic word “Amán” (peace), while beforehand they exchanged the
-usual Mohammedan greeting, “Salám alëik” or “alëikum” (Peace
-be with thee, or with you), and the reply, “Alëikum el salám”. In
-this manner every member of one band greets every member of the
-other; both bands, therefore, when they meet, range themselves in
-rows, along which one after another runs hastily, so as to give the
-temporarily-restrained “red tongue” its full freedom as quickly as
-possible. The shorter method, which, however, is only used in the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_497">[Pg 497]</span>
-case of large gatherings, is to stretch out the hands towards each
-other and clasp them together.</p>
-
-<p>If the Kirghiz visit each other in their auls, another form has
-to be gone through before the customary greeting takes place.
-Within sight of the yurt the approaching visitors rein in their
-horses, walk them for a little, and finally stand still. At this sign
-some one comes to meet them from the aul, greets them, and conducts
-them to the yurt, which the women have in the meantime
-decorated by spreading out their most valuable rugs. Strangers
-who are unknown in the aul must, before greeting, answer inquiries
-as to their name, station, and whence they have come; but they are
-received and hospitably treated in any case, for the Kirghiz shows
-hospitality towards everyone, irrespective of station and religion,
-though he always prefers distinguished guests. The guest enters
-the yurt with the customary greeting, pulls off his shoes at the
-door, but of course keeps on his soft riding-boots. If he is of equal
-standing with his host, he sits down in the place of honour; but if
-of humbler degree, he keeps modestly in the background, and lets
-himself down on the rug in a kneeling posture.</p>
-
-<p>In honour of an esteemed guest the host orders a sheep to be
-killed, but has it first brought to the yurt to be blessed by the
-guest. At this sign all the neighbours assemble to take part in the
-sumptuous feast. The head and breast of the sheep are roasted on
-the spit, the rest of the flesh is cut into pieces and boiled in a
-cauldron, and loin, ribs, shoulders, and haunches, whenever they are
-cooked, are set before the guest in a vessel. The guest washes his
-hands, cuts the flesh from the bones, dips it in the salt broth, and
-says to the host, who has till then remained standing, “It is only
-through the host that the meat gains flavour; sit down”; but the
-host replies, “Thanks, thanks, but eat”, and does not at once accept
-the invitation of the guest. Thereupon the latter cuts a piece from
-the ribs, calls the host to him, and puts it into his mouth; then
-cutting a second piece, he lays it in a bowl and hands it to the
-housewife. The host then sits down, but it is still the guest who
-distributes the meat to the members of the company. He cuts it
-into pieces of a convenient size for the mouth, mixes them with fat,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_498">[Pg 498]</span>
-dips three of them at a time into the broth, and puts them into the
-mouth of one of his fellow-feasters after another. It would be an
-insult to the giver if the receiver did not at once swallow the pieces,
-even though, if they be large, he chokes so frightfully that he
-becomes blue in the face, and urgently requires the assistance,
-which his neighbours immediately give by striking him on the back
-with their fists, to render the process of swallowing easier. The
-guest, on the other hand, must never give more than three pieces,
-for if he exceeds this number, if he stuffs five at a time into the
-mouth of a man, and if the man is choked in the attempt to
-swallow the too generous gift at once, the giver must compensate
-the bereaved family to the value of one hundred horses, while if
-anyone chokes over the three pieces, he is not held responsible.
-After the meat has been consumed, the chief guest hands round
-the vessel containing the broth, and each drinks from it according
-to his necessities or desires. At the close of the meal, though not
-until all have washed their hands, every well-to-do host, whose
-mares are yielding milk at the time, hands round koumiss, and this
-much-loved beverage is received by everyone with obvious reverence.
-If anyone has not yet taken part in the meal, he comes now
-to refresh himself with this nectar. They drink to intoxication, for
-the Kirghiz has as great a capacity for drinking this highly-prized
-milk-wine as he has for eating, and in both respects he is anything
-but modest or moderate.</p>
-
-<p>But the ceremony attending ordinary visiting is nothing compared
-with that observed in connection with all important family
-events, such as weddings or burials. In the case of the former, the
-joy finds vent in much practical joking; in the latter, mourning is
-accompanied by ceremonies indicative of respect to the dead.
-Wooing and weddings, burial and memorial celebrations give rise to
-a whole chain of festivals.</p>
-
-<p>As among all Mohammedans, the father woos on behalf of his
-son, and pays the future father-in-law a varying, and often very
-considerable sum. A matrimonial agent, who is proclaimed as such
-by the fact that he wears one leg of his trousers over and the other
-under his boot, makes his appearance in the yurt in which a daughter<span class="pagenum" id="Page_499">[Pg 499]</span>
-is blossoming into womanhood, and prefers a request for her in the
-name of the father of a marriageable youth. If the bride’s father
-is agreeable, he demands that the sender of the message, with the
-elders of his aul, shall come to treat with him on the subject. These
-comply, and, according to custom, rein in their horses within sight
-of the aul. A messenger from the bride’s father rides to meet them,
-greets them formally, and conducts them to the festive yurt decorated
-in their honour. There they are at once regaled with koumiss,
-and a bard arrives to contribute to their entertainment. He is
-rewarded by loud applause, and incited to further effort by magnificent
-promises. They praise the depth of his thought, the finished
-style of his execution; they promise him a horse, an <i>Iamba</i>, or four
-pounds of uncoined silver as his reward. The master of the yurt
-protests against this, insisting that he alone has the right to reward
-the singer; but the guests promise so much the more, for they know
-that their host will not permit the fulfilment of their promises.
-When the song is ended a lively conversation takes place between
-the host and his neighbours and guests; they talk about everything
-imaginable except the object of the visit, and at length they disperse,
-and the guests ride to their homes again.</p>
-
-<p>The next morning the father of the bride with his train return
-the visit, and after being greeted and feasted in the same manner,
-request to see the young man’s mother. They at once repair to the
-yurt of the housewife, and greet her with much ceremony and
-courtesy. Then the father produces the roasted brisket of a sheep,
-and distributes pieces of this much-prized meat to his guests with
-the words, “Let this sheep’s breast be a pledge that our plans will
-be successfully carried out”. Then begins a discussion over the
-amount of the “kalüm” or price to be paid for the bride. A mare of
-from three to five years of age is the unit of calculation; an ambler
-or a camel is considered equivalent to five mares, and six or seven
-sheep or goats make up the value of one.</p>
-
-<p>The bride’s father demands 77 mares, but lets himself be beaten
-down to 57, 47, 37, 27, according to his means and those of the
-bridegroom’s father. If both are poor they come even farther down
-till they are agreed. As soon as the bargain is concluded, the bride’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_500">[Pg 500]</span>
-father declares the betrothal fixed, and prepares to go, leaving a
-present in or before the yurt. But the bridegroom’s father, if it is
-possible at all, sends half the kalüm with him, and pays the remaining
-half as soon as may be.</p>
-
-<p>A fortnight after payment of the kalüm, the bridegroom is at
-liberty to visit his bride for the first time. Accompanied by as
-many friends of his own age as possible, he sets out under the
-guidance of an older friend of the family, who is familiar with all
-the customs to be observed, but he dismounts in the neighbourhood
-of the bride’s aul, erects a small tent, and retires into it, or conceals
-himself in some other way. His followers go on to the aul, and,
-after having been ceremoniously welcomed, enter it and distribute,
-amid much jesting, all sorts of little presents, rings, necklaces, sweets,
-ribbons, and pieces of coloured cloth, among the crowd of women
-and children. Then they enter the festive yurt with all the young
-people of both sexes. The host provides meat and drink; first, the
-breast of a sheep, which he cuts with the words already mentioned,
-then “meibaur”&mdash;small pieces of the heart, liver, and kidneys
-smeared with fat. The dishes are placed before the elderly leader
-of the party, who, as chief guest, proceeds in the manner before
-described, but as he puts the pieces into the mouth of the first young
-man, he smears his face with the fat broth. This is the signal for
-the beginning of all manner of practical jokes, and the youths,
-maidens, and younger women indulge in them freely. A very
-common one among the girls is to sew the clothing of the young
-men with rapid stitches to the rugs on which they are sitting.</p>
-
-<p>When the meal is over the youthful guests are allowed a short
-interval of repose, but only to give them time to collect their
-ideas. Then the girls and women challenge the young men to a
-singing competition, and giving them the place of honour, sit down
-opposite them; then one begins her song. It fares ill with the
-youth whom she addresses if he is not ready with his reply. The
-merry troop falls upon him, they nip him and pinch him, drive him
-from the yurt, and hand him over to the young men of the aul,
-who are congregated outside on the watch for such victims. A
-bucket of water is poured over the unfortunate blunderer, and thus<span class="pagenum" id="Page_501">[Pg 501]</span>
-bathed and humiliated, he is led back to the yurt to undergo another
-trial. If he fails in this also he is condemned to be dressed as a
-woman, and put in the pillory. Woe to him if he is thin-skinned,
-it will be a day of torture for him. Joking is the order of the day,
-and no surly person will be tolerated. Whoever can best enter into
-the spirit of it is the hero of the day; whoever is unable to take his
-share is the general sacrificial lamb.</p>
-
-<p>During these amusements the bride sits concealed behind a
-curtain in the back of the yurt. The young people of the aul take
-advantage of her solitude to steal her away, while the bridegroom’s
-friends are occupied with the singing competition. They make
-an opening between the pieces of felt covering the yurt, drag her
-through it, put her on horseback, and carry her off unresisting to
-the yurt of one of her relatives, where she is given into the hands
-of the assembled older women. If the robbery succeeds, the robber
-challenges the youths to find the bride and to deliver her from the
-women. The company hastily breaks up, and they beg her guardians
-to restore the bride to them. But, however persuasive their words
-may be, their request is refused. The bride sits before their eyes in
-a yurt from which a portion of the felt cover has been removed, but
-violence is out of the question, so the youths begin to bargain. The
-women demand nine different dishes prepared by the young
-men’s own hands, but, after a time, they agree to accept nine gifts
-instead, and they give up the bride, stipulating that she shall be
-taken back to her father’s yurt.</p>
-
-<p>Meanwhile the bridegroom sits waiting in his tent. He has not
-been quite alone, for some of the young married women had gone to
-seek him as soon as his companions arrived, and had been received
-by him with a respectful greeting called “taschim”. He had
-bowed so low before them that his finger-tips had touched the
-ground, and had then raised himself slowly, letting his hands glide
-up his shins until he had reached his full height; the women had
-accepted his homage, and had borne him company all day, giving
-him food and drink, and whiling away the time with talk and
-jesting, but not allowing him to leave the tent. Not before sundown,
-and only after much coaxing does he receive permission to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_502">[Pg 502]</span>
-sing a song within the aul and before the bride’s yurt. He mounts
-his horse, rides into the aul, sings his greeting to the inhabitants,
-and, stopping before the yurt of his bride-elect, expresses his lover’s
-plaint in a song, original or otherwise.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent0">Sweetheart, my love brings me dule and pain,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">For it’s thrice that I’ve tried to win thee;</div>
-<div class="verse indent0">Thou would’st not waken; my heart is fain;</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">For it’s thrice thou would’st not hear me.</div>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent0">But late in night, when the camels rest,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">All fixed by their hairy tether,</div>
-<div class="verse indent0">My heart shall fly to its own warm nest,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">Our hearts shall be one together.</div>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent0">Let me but see thy face, sweetheart,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">And I shall be brave and strong;</div>
-<div class="verse indent0">Thou hast stolen away my peace, sweetheart,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">And left me with only a song.</div>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent0">I pray for a draught of koumiss, love,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">For dry and parched is my soul;</div>
-<div class="verse indent0">Thou wilt hearken and give me bliss, love,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">And make my bleeding heart whole.</div>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent0">But should all my pleading tease thee,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">And thine ear be deaf to my song,</div>
-<div class="verse indent0">The friends will help me to please thee,</div>
-<div class="verse indent2">And the wedding shall be ere long.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>Without entering the yurt he returns to his tent. Soon an old
-woman comes to him and promises that she will take him to
-the bride if he will make her a present. He at once agrees, and
-they set out together. But they do not attain their object without
-having to overcome various obstacles. Another woman lays the
-fork which is used to lift the ring of the yurt to its place, across his
-path; to step over it would be unlucky, for the person who laid
-it down must take it away again. A gift overcomes this difficulty,
-but a second is met with very soon. A woman, apparently dead,
-lies on the path; but a second gift calls the dead to life again,
-and the way is clear to within a short distance of the yurt. But
-there stands a figure which snarls like a dog. Shall it be said that
-the dog snarled at the bridegroom? Never! A third gift closes the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_503">[Pg 503]</span>
-snarling mouth, and the much-tried youth reaches the yurt without
-further hindrances. Two women keep the door shut, but do not
-refuse to open it when a gift is offered; within, two others hold
-the curtain fast; on the bride’s couch lies her younger sister; but
-he succeeds in getting rid of them all; the yurt is almost empty;
-the old woman lays the bridegroom’s hands in those of the bride and
-leaves them. At last they are alone together.</p>
-
-<p>Under the supervision of the old woman, who is called
-“dyenke”, the bridegroom visits the bride many times, without,
-however, presenting himself before her parents until what remains
-of the kalüm is paid. Then he sends a messenger to
-the bride’s father to ask if he may take his bride to his own yurt.
-Permission is given, and the bridegroom sets out for the aul, once
-more with a large following and many gifts, pitches his tent at
-a suitable distance, receives visits from the women as before, spends
-the night alone in the tent, and, next morning, sends from it to the
-aul all the necessary woodwork for the erection of a yurt, which he
-has to provide. Thereupon the women assemble and hastily finish
-the sewing together of the felt covering supplied by the bride, if it
-is not already done, and then they set to work to erect the new
-yurt. The favourite woman of the aul has the honour of lifting the
-roof-ring, and holding it in position until the spars are fitted into
-it; the others share the rest of the work of setting up and covering
-it. While this is going on the bridegroom makes his appearance;
-the bride, too, is brought upon the scene, and both are told to walk
-from their places to the yurt to decide the great question as to who
-shall be supreme within it. The mastery will fall to the lot of the
-one who reaches it first.</p>
-
-<p>A sheep brought by the bridegroom has been slaughtered, and
-a meal prepared to be eaten within the new yurt. During the
-course of the meal, the young master wraps up a bone in a piece of
-white cloth, and throws it, without looking upwards, through the
-hole at the top of the yurt into the open air. If he succeeds in
-doing so, it is a sign that the smoke from this yurt will always
-rise straight to heaven, which betokens happiness and prosperity
-for the inhabitants.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_504">[Pg 504]</span></p>
-
-<p>After the preliminary repast in the new yurt, the guests repair
-to that of the bride’s father, where a second meal awaits them.
-The younger people remain in the new yurt, and for them the
-bride’s mother prepares food and drink; and she must provide
-it bountifully, lest the young people should break up the light
-structure over their heads, and, to punish her niggardliness, scatter
-its parts in all directions far away in the steppe. Not even the
-abundantly filled dish itself is safe from the boisterous spirits of
-these unruly wedding guests; one of them pulls it from the hostess,
-and rides away with it; others attempt to catch him and secure
-the spoil, and so the fun goes on till the dishes are in danger of
-becoming cold.</p>
-
-<p>The following morning the bride’s father asks for the first time
-to see the bridegroom, invites him to his yurt, greets him warmly,
-praises his looks and talents, wishes him happiness in his married
-life, and gives him all sorts of presents as the bride’s dowry. This
-takes place in the presence of the whole company who had assembled
-in the yurt before the bridegroom’s entrance. Finally, the
-richly adorned bride enters it also. If there is a mollah in the
-aul, or if one can be procured, he pronounces a blessing over the
-young pain.</p>
-
-<p>Then the farewell song, the “jar-jar”, is sung to the bride,
-and, with tearful eyes, she responds to every verse, every strophe,
-with the lament of departing brides.</p>
-
-<p>When this is at an end, camels are brought up to be loaded with
-the yurt and the bridal presents, and gaily caparisoned horses to
-carry the bride and her mother to the bridegroom’s aul. The young
-man himself rides in advance of the procession, and, assisted by his
-companions, he urges the camels to their utmost speed, so as to have
-time to erect the yurt in his aul with the same ceremonies as had
-been previously observed. The bride, having taken tearful leave
-of her father, relatives, and companions, the yurt, and the herds
-and flocks, rides closely veiled by a curtain which completely
-envelopes her, and which is carried by her attendant riders, till she
-reaches the yurt in which she is henceforth to reign as mistress.
-Her father-in-law, who has meantime inspected the dowry, and
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_505">[Pg 505]</span>praised or found fault with it, calls her soon after her arrival to
-his yurt, and she enters it with three such deep inclinations, that
-she is obliged to support herself by laying her hands on her knees;
-these are to signify that she will be as obedient to her father and
-mother-in-law as to her lord and master. During this greeting,
-her face remains veiled, as it does thenceforward before her father<span class="pagenum" id="Page_506">[Pg 506]</span>
-and brothers-in-law, and for a year before every stranger. Later,
-she veils herself in the presence of her husband’s eldest brother, but
-of no one else, for she must marry the brother if her husband dies,
-and she must not rouse or foster evil desires in his heart.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f77">
-<img src="images/fig77.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 73.&mdash;Frolics at a Kirghiz Wedding.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>In the case of a second marriage, the Kirghiz woos for himself
-and without special formalities. If he marries a second wife
-during the life of his first, and lets her live in the same yurt, as
-usually happens where the man is not very well-to-do, her lot is a
-pitiable one. The first wife insists upon her rights, condemns the
-second to a certain part of the yurt, and only allows her lord
-himself to exercise his conjugal rights within strict limits. The
-wife is held in high esteem among the Kirghiz: “We value our
-wives as we do our ambling nags, both are priceless,” my Kirghiz
-friend Altibei said to me. The men seldom leave their wives, the
-women still more rarely run away from their husbands; but even
-in the steppe, love does sometimes break all the bonds of tradition
-and custom. Abductions also occur, and are not considered disgraceful.
-To carry off a maiden whose father’s claims are exorbitant
-is considered by many as praiseworthy rather than blameworthy
-on the part of both the abductor and abducted.</p>
-
-<p>Among the Kirghiz, a new-born infant is washed in very salt
-water as soon as it opens its eyes on the world. The washing is
-repeated for forty days in succession, and then given up entirely.
-The suckling is laid at first in a cradle filled with warm, soft, down-like
-camel wool, so that it is completely covered, and does not
-suffer from cold in the severest winter; later, it is dressed in a little
-woollen shirt, which the mother holds over the fire about once in
-three days, to free it from the parasites abundant in every yurt,
-but she never changes it for another as long as it holds together.
-In winter, the careful mother adds a pair of stockings, and, as soon
-as the child can walk, it is dressed like a grown-up person.</p>
-
-<p>Both parents are exceedingly fond of their children, treat them
-always with the greatest tenderness, and never beat them, but they
-take a pleasure in teaching them all kinds of ugly and unseemly
-words as soon as they begin to speak, and when these are repeated
-by the child’s innocent lips, they never fail to cause general<span class="pagenum" id="Page_507">[Pg 507]</span>
-amusement. The different ages of the child are described by the
-name of some animal; thus it may be “as old as a mouse, a marmot,
-a sheep, or a horse”. When a boy reaches the age of four years,
-he is placed for the first time on the back of a horse about the same
-age, richly adorned and saddled with one of the children’s saddles
-which are usually heirlooms in a family. The happy parents
-promise all sorts of pretty things to the independent little rider,
-who has, for the first time, escaped from the protecting arms of his
-mother. Then they call a servant or some willing friend, and give
-horse and rider into his charge to be led from one yurt to another,
-to announce the joyful event to all their relatives and friends.
-Wherever the little boy goes, he is warmly welcomed and overwhelmed
-with praises and dainties. A festival in the father’s yurt
-celebrates the important day.</p>
-
-<p>The child’s instruction in all that he requires to know begins
-about his seventh year. The boy, who in the interval has become
-an accomplished rider, learns to tend the grazing herds, the girl
-learns to milk them, and to perform all the other work of a housewife;
-the son of rich parents is taught to read and write by a
-mollah or anyone able to impart such knowledge, and later he is
-instructed in the laws of his religion. Before he has completed his
-twelfth year his instruction is at an end, and he himself is ripe for life.</p>
-
-<p>The Kirghiz honours his dead and their memory even more than
-he does the living. Every family is ready to make the greatest
-sacrifices to celebrate the funeral and memorial feast of a deceased
-member of the family with as much pomp as possible; everyone, even
-the poorest, strives to decorate as well as he can the grave of his
-departed loved ones; everyone would consider it a disgrace to fail
-in paying full respect to any dead person, whether relative or not.
-All this they have in common with other Mohammedans; but the
-ceremonies observed at the death and burial of a Kirghiz differ
-materially from those customary among others of the same faith,
-and they are, therefore, worthy of detailed description.</p>
-
-<p>When a Kirghiz feels his last hour approaching, he summons all
-his friends, that they may make sure that his soul gets into Paradise.
-Pious Kirghiz, who are expecting death, have the Koran read to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_508">[Pg 508]</span>
-them long before the end comes, though the words sounding in their
-ear may be quite unintelligible. According to the custom among
-true believers, the friends of a dying man gather round his bed and
-repeat to him the first phrase of the confession of faith of all the
-Prophet’s followers, “There is but one God”, until he responds with
-the second, “And Mohammed is his prophet”. As soon as these
-words have passed his lips the angel Munkir opens the gates of
-Paradise, and therefore all who have heard the words exclaim, “El
-hamdu lillahi”,&mdash;Praise be to God!</p>
-
-<p>As soon as the master of a yurt has closed his eyes in death,
-messengers are sent in all directions to bear the tidings to his
-relatives and friends, and, according to the rank and standing of
-the dead man, these messengers may ride from ten to fifty or sixty
-miles across the steppe from aul to aul. A relative in one aul may
-also carry on the news to those in another. While the messengers
-are on their way, the corpse is washed and enveloped in its “lailach”,
-which last every Kirghiz procures during his lifetime, and stores up
-with his valuables. When this duty has been fulfilled, the corpse
-is carried out of the yurt and laid upon a bier formed by a half-extended
-yurt-trellis. The mollah, who has been sent for, pronounces
-a blessing over the dead; then the trellis with its burden is lifted
-up and fastened to the saddle of a camel, and the train of assembled
-friends and kinsmen sets out on its way to the burial-place, which
-is often far distant.</p>
-
-<p>Whenever the dying man has breathed his last, the women begin
-the lament for the dead. The one most nearly related to him begins
-the song and gives vent to her heart’s grief in more or less deeply-felt
-words; the others join in simultaneously at the end of every
-phrase or verse, and one after another does her best to clothe her
-ideas in fit words. The dirge becomes more and more mournful up
-till the moment when the camel rises with his burden, and not
-by sounds and words only, but by their whole conduct the women
-testify to their increasing grief. At length they tear their hair and
-scratch their faces till blood flows. Not till the funeral procession,
-in which the women take no part, has disappeared from sight, do
-the cries and tears gradually cease.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_509">[Pg 509]</span></p>
-
-<p>Some men on swift horses have been sent in advance of the funeral
-train to prepare the grave. This is an excavation, at most reaching
-only to a man’s breast; at the end which points towards Mecca, it is
-vaulted to receive the head and upper part of the body. When the
-corpse has been laid to rest, the grave is covered with logs, planks,
-bundles of reeds, or stones. It is not filled with earth, but a mound
-is heaped up on the top of the covering and decorated with flags or
-the like, unless when a dome-like structure of wood or bricks is
-built over the grave. When a child dies its cradle is laid upon its
-grave. After the burial the mollah pronounces a blessing over the
-corpse for the last time, and all take part in heaping up the mound
-of earth. But the ceremonies do not end here.</p>
-
-<p>Whenever the head of a family dies, a white flag is planted
-beside the yurt and left for a whole year in the same place. Every
-day during the year the women assemble beside it to renew their
-lamentations. At the time the flag is planted the dead man’s
-favourite horse is led up, and half of its long tail is cut off. From
-that time forward no one mounts it; it is “widowed”. Seven days
-after the death, all the friends and relatives, even those from a
-distance, assemble in the yurt, hold a funeral banquet together,
-distribute some of the dead man’s clothing among the poor, and
-consult as to the future of those he has left behind and the guardianship
-of the property. Then the bereaved family is left alone with
-its sorrow.</p>
-
-<p>When a woman dies almost the same ceremonies are observed,
-except that, of course, the body is washed and dressed by women.
-But even in this case the women remain within the aul to sing the
-mourning song. The departed woman’s riding-horse has its tail cut,
-but no flag is planted.</p>
-
-<p>When the aul is taken down, a youth selected for the honourable
-service leads up the “widowed” riding-horse, puts the saddle of its
-former master reversed on its back, loads it with his clothing, and
-leads it by the bridle to its destination, carrying in his right hand
-the lance which bears the mourning-flag.</p>
-
-<p>On the anniversary of the death all the friends and relatives are
-summoned once more to the bereaved yurt. After greeting and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_510">[Pg 510]</span>
-condoling with the women, who are still shrouded in mourning
-garments, they fetch the horse, saddle and load it in the same
-manner as when moving the aul, and lead it before the mollah to
-be blessed. This done, two men approach, seize its bridle, unsaddle
-it, throw it to the ground, and stab it through the heart. Its flesh
-serves as a meal for the poor of the company, its skin falls to the
-mollah. Immediately after the horse has been killed, the lance is
-handed to the most important man among the relatives; he takes
-it, pronounces a few words, breaks the shaft in pieces, and throws
-these into the fire.</p>
-
-<p>Now the horses come snorting up, eager to prove their speed in
-the race; the young riders who guide and bridle them start off at a
-given signal and disappear in the steppe. The bard takes the
-mollah’s place, and commemorates the dead once more, but also
-extols the living and seeks to gladden their hearts. The women lay
-aside the singular head-dress, which serves as a sign of mourning,
-and don their gala attire. After the abundant repast, the vessel of
-intoxicating milk-wine circulates freely, and sounds of joy mingle
-with the tones of the zither.</p>
-
-<p>Mourning for the dead is over; life asserts its rights once more.</p>
-
-
-<hr class="full x-ebookmaker-drop" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="c19">COLONISTS AND EXILES IN SIBERIA.</h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>Those who regard Siberia as merely a vast prison are as far
-from the truth as those who look upon it as one immeasurable
-waste of ice. Russia does indeed send thousands of criminals or
-others under sentence of punishment to Siberia every year; and
-there are among these some who, having been convicted of serious
-crimes against life and property, are not free during the whole of
-their enforced sojourn. But only a very small proportion of all the
-criminals are really in confinement for the whole period of their
-sentence, and every one of them has it in his power to render this
-confinement less severe, or even to free himself from it altogether
-by his behaviour, and thus he enjoys advantages which do not fall<span class="pagenum" id="Page_511">[Pg 511]</span>
-to the lot of the inmates of our prisons and houses of correction.
-Wide tracts of the vast territory which is governed by the Russian
-sceptre, great countries according to our ideas, have never been used
-as penal colonies at all, and will probably always remain free of
-those forced immigrants, who cause the settled population much
-more disagreeableness, not to say suffering, than they have to
-endure themselves. And along the same paths, which formerly
-were never trodden save in sorrow, there now pass many free
-human beings, hoping and striving to better their lot in the distant
-East. Voluntary colonists join the compulsory ones even in such
-districts and tracts of country as were formerly dreaded and
-shunned as the most inhospitable regions on earth. A new era is
-opening for Siberia; for blinding fear is gradually being replaced by
-illuminating knowledge even among those classes of society which
-are more prone to fear than desirous of knowledge.</p>
-
-<p>The descriptions of Siberia with which we are familiar come, for
-the most part, from the mouth or the pen of educated exiles, that is
-to say, from people whom the settled inhabitants call “unfortunate”,
-and treat as such. Probably only a very small proportion of
-the descriptions in question are untrue, but they are, nevertheless,
-inaccurate in most cases. For misfortune clouds the eyes and the
-soul, and destroys that impartiality which is the only possible basis
-of a correct estimate of the conditions of life. These conditions are
-much better than we are accustomed to believe, much better, indeed,
-than they are in more than one of the mountainous districts of our
-Fatherland; for the struggle for existence in Siberia is an easy one
-as far as man is concerned. Want in the usual sense of the word,
-lack of the ordinary necessaries of life, is here almost unknown, or
-at least, only affects those whose power of work has been weakened
-by illness or other misfortune. Compared with the hardships
-against which many a poor German dwelling among the mountains
-has to contend during his whole life, without ever emerging victorious
-from the struggle, the lot of even the convict in Siberia appears
-in many cases enviable. Privation oppresses only the mental, not
-the bodily life of the residents in Siberia, for whoever is faithful to
-the soil receives from it more than he needs, and if any one forsakes<span class="pagenum" id="Page_512">[Pg 512]</span>
-it for some of the other occupations customary in the country,
-he can earn quite as much by the honest work of his hands as
-he could have reaped from the soil itself. Thus do the present conditions
-of life appear to one who studies them with unprejudiced
-eyes.</p>
-
-<p>I have honestly striven to form an unbiassed judgment on the
-present conditions of life among the inhabitants of the parts of
-Siberia through which we travelled. I have descended into the
-depths of misery, and have sunned myself on the heights of prosperity,
-I have associated with murderers, highwaymen, incendiaries,
-thieves, swindlers, sharpers, vagabonds, scoundrels, insurgents and
-conspirators, as well as with fishermen and huntsmen, shepherds
-and peasants, merchants and tradesmen, officials and magistrates,
-with masters and servants, educated and uneducated, rich and poor,
-contented and discontented, so that I might confirm my observations,
-widen my knowledge, test my conclusions, and correct erroneous
-impressions; I have begged the police officers to describe the exiles’
-lot to me, and have questioned the exiles themselves; I have sought
-out criminals in their prisons, and have observed them outside of
-these; I have conversed with peasants, trades-people, and colonists
-generally, whenever and wherever it was possible, and have compared
-the statements made to me by these people with the detailed
-communications made to me by the government officials: I may
-therefore believe that I gathered as much information as was
-possible, taking into account the speed and shortness of our journey.
-In any case, I have collected so much material that I may confine
-myself solely to the results of my own investigations in attempting
-to give a rapid sketch of the life of exiles in Siberia. My description
-will not be free from errors, but it will certainly be a just estimate
-of the state of affairs.</p>
-
-<p>With the exception of government officials, soldiers, and enterprising
-trades-people, chiefly merchants, the stream of emigrants
-from Russia to Siberia was made up, until 1861, solely of those who
-went under compulsion: serfs of the Czar who worked in his own
-mines, and criminals who were sent, chiefly, to those of the state.
-With the suppression of serfdom, which had a deeper influence on the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_513">[Pg 513]</span>
-state of society than was supposed, or than is even now recognized,
-the emigration of the former class ceased at once. Millions of men
-were set free by a word from their mild and large-hearted ruler;
-thousands of them forsook the mines and turned their attention to
-the fruitful soil, which their relatives had already been cultivating;
-the Czar’s mines were almost depopulated, and even now they have
-scarcely recovered from the effects of the blow. But the great
-imperial or crown-estate of the Altai gained, instead of its former
-colonists, a new element which it had lacked, a free peasantry, not
-indeed possessing heritable property, but yet at full liberty to cultivate
-the rich soil. The suppression of serfdom also altered the
-condition of those tracts of country which had been chiefly colonized
-by convict exiles, for there, too, it became possible to establish a free
-peasantry. But here the continuous emigration-stream proves
-rather a hindrance than an advantage; for in most cases the convicts
-who are exiled to parts of the country already peopled introduce an
-element of disquiet among the settled inhabitants, and prevent such
-hopeful and prosperous colonization as in the crown-estate of the
-Altai, which has never been used as a convict settlement, and never
-will be so used as long as it remains the property of the Czar. On
-the other hand, many voluntary emigrants make their way to the
-Altai, and on that account the population increases more rapidly
-there than in the rest of Siberia.</p>
-
-<p>It is a magnificent tract of country this crown-estate of the
-Altai, and, as a landed property, it is also remarkable as being the
-largest which can be found anywhere. For its superficial area may
-be stated in round numbers at 400,000 square versts, or about
-176,000 English square miles. It includes within itself mountain
-ranges and plains, hill chains and table-lands; it lies between
-navigable rivers, and contains others which could be made navigable
-without special difficulty; it still contains vast and utilizable
-forests, and wealth immeasurable above and beneath the ground.
-Ores of various kinds have been discovered at no fewer than eight
-hundred and thirty different places within its boundaries, without
-taking into account other two hundred and seventy spots at which
-it has been found, but which have never been thoroughly examined.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_514">[Pg 514]</span>
-In the Altai, one literally walks upon silver and gold; for auriferous
-silver-ore as well as lead, copper, and iron intersect the
-mountains in veins, more or less rich, but usually worth working;
-and the rivers flowing from them carry down golden sand. A
-stratum of coal, whose extent has not yet been determined, but in
-which a depth of seven or eight yards has been proved in various
-places, underlies such an extensive tract, that, judging from the
-composition of the exposed masses of rock, one is justified in concluding
-that the whole northern portion of the estate stands above a
-great coal-basin.<a id="FNanchor_87" href="#Footnote_87" class="fnanchor">[86]</a> And yet the real wealth of the estate of the
-Altai lies, not in its subterranean treasures, but in its rich black
-soil, which spreads over mountain slopes and plains, and is swept
-together in river-basins and hollows, so that it covers them to the
-depth of a yard and a half. Beautiful, often grand, mountain
-districts alternate with pleasing hilly tracts of arable land, and
-gently-undulating plains, which the farmer prefers above all else,
-steppe-like landscapes with fruitful valleys watered by a brook or
-river, forests of luxuriantly sprouting trees, low and tall, with groves
-or park-like shrubbery. The climate, though not mild, is by no
-means intolerable, and nowhere hinders profitable cultivation of the
-exceedingly fertile, and, for the most part, virgin soil. Four months
-of hot, almost unvarying summer, four months of severe continuous
-winter, two months of damp, cold, and changeable spring, and a
-similar autumn, make up the year, and though the mean warmth
-of the best half of the year is not sufficient to mature the grape, it
-ripens all the kinds of grain which we grow in Northern and
-Central Germany; and in all the southern portions of the crown
-property the temperature is high enough to admit of melon culture.</p>
-
-<p>Such is the character of the land which has been free, for more
-than two generations, from exiled criminals, and which now harbours
-such colonists as, within certain limits, one would like to see
-throughout the whole remaining and not less rich and fertile
-southern portion of Siberia. Of course these farmers of the Altai
-cannot be compared with our peasants who inherit their land; but
-they compare favourably with any ordinary Russian peasants. One
-can see that their fathers and grandfathers have been serfs of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_515">[Pg 515]</span>
-greatest and most exalted Lord of the Empire, not half-slaves of a
-master who, powerless himself, demands the most absolute subjection;
-one can also assure oneself in many ways that the lack of
-landed property has in no wise hindered them from becoming prosperous,
-that is, from earning more than enough to supply their
-necessities.</p>
-
-<p>From the time that the Altai was declared the property of the
-Czar, the lot of its inhabitants was comparatively fortunate, not to
-say happy. Until their release from serfdom, they had all been
-employed either in mining, or in some work connected therewith.
-Those who were not actually in the mines were occupied, some with
-the felling and charring of trees, others with conveying of the
-charcoal to the smelting-houses, and others again with the transport
-of the metal. With the increase of the population the burden of
-compulsory service became lighter. In the fifties, there were so
-many able-bodied men available, that the compulsory service to
-their lord, the Czar, was limited to one month in the year, with the
-condition, however, that each serf-workman should furnish a horse.
-The distance which a workman had to cover with his horse was
-taken into account according to its length. As compensation for
-absence from home, each serf-workman received 75½ <i>kopeks</i> for
-the period of his work, but, in addition to this nominal pay, he had
-the right to cultivate as much of the Czar’s land as he could, and
-to till it as he pleased, as well as to cut down as much wood in the
-Czar’s forests as he required for building his house, and for fuel,
-and he was burdened with no taxes or tribute whatever. The
-number of workmen which a village was obliged to furnish was in
-proportion to the number of its inhabitants; the distribution of the
-burden of service among the different heads of families was left to
-the members of the community themselves.</p>
-
-<p>The work of the miners was less easy. They were drawn from
-the towns and villages of the crown-estate, instead of the soldiers
-levied elsewhere, were treated like soldiers in every respect, and
-were only freed after twenty-five years of service. They were
-divided into two classes: the miners proper, who worked in regular
-relays, and the workers connected with the mine, who were obliged<span class="pagenum" id="Page_516">[Pg 516]</span>
-to perform a certain prescribed amount of work each year, the time
-being left to their own choice. The latter were engaged in charcoal-burning,
-felling trees, making bricks, transport, and the like,
-and they received 14 roubles yearly. Having yielded the required
-service, they were free for the rest of the year, and might do as they
-pleased. Those who worked in the mines, on the other hand, were
-compelled to give their services year in, year out. They worked in
-twelve-hour relays, one week by day, the next by night, and every
-third week they were free. Each miner received, according to his
-capability, from six to twelve roubles a year for such necessaries as
-had to be paid for in money, but in addition he was allowed two
-<i>pood</i> (72 lbs.) of flour a month for himself, two <i>pood</i> for his wife,
-and one <i>pood</i> for each of his children. He was also at liberty to till
-as much land, and breed and keep as many cattle as he could. Each
-of his sons was obliged to attend school from his seventh to his
-twelfth year; from his twelfth to his eighteenth he was engaged as
-an apprentice, and rewarded at first with one, later with two roubles
-a year. At the age of eighteen his compulsory service in the mines
-began.</p>
-
-<p>On the first of March, 1861, the day of the emancipation of all
-the serfs in the Russian Empire, there were in the crown property
-of the Altai 145,639 males, of whom 25,267 were at work in the
-mines or smelting works. All these were released from their compulsory
-service, not indeed in a single day, but within two years.
-No fewer than 12,626 of them forsook the mines, returned to their
-native villages and began to till the soil; the rest remained in the
-mines as hired labourers.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f78">
-<img src="images/fig78.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 74.&mdash;Miners in the Altai returning from Work.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>I do not think I am mistaken in referring the more comfortable
-conditions of life on the crown-property of the Altai, as compared
-with the rest of West Siberia, back to its own past. The parents and
-forefathers of the present inhabitants, notwithstanding their bondage,
-never felt oppressed. They were serfs, but of the lord and ruler of
-the vast land in which the cradle of their fathers stood. They were
-obliged to labour for their master, and to yield up their sons for
-nearly a generation to his service; but this master was the Czar, a
-being in their eyes almost divine. In return, the Czar maintained
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_517">[Pg 517]</span>them, freed them from all the obligations of citizenship, permitted
-them to wrest from his land what it would yield, placed no hindrances
-in the way of their prosperity, protected them, as far as
-possible, from the oppressions of unjust officials, and was, besides, a
-benefactor to their children in that he compelled at least some of
-them to attend school. The officials under whose superintendence
-they were, stood far above the majority of the servants of the
-crown as regards culture; nearly all had studied in Germany, not a
-few were even of German extraction, and brought, if not German<span class="pagenum" id="Page_518">[Pg 518]</span>
-customs, at least widened views into the country over which they
-ruled in the name of the Czar. Even now, Barnaul, the capital of
-the crown-lands, is a centre of culture such as can be found nowhere
-else in Siberia; and, while the mining industry was at its best, it was
-the undisputed intellectual capital of Northern and Central Asia, and
-the light emanating from it shone the more brilliantly because it
-found in every mining centre a focus which helped to spread it more
-widely. Thus the royal domain of the Altai has always held a prominent
-position among the districts of Siberia.</p>
-
-<p>It was probably never the intention of the administration of
-the Altai to specially favour the peasant class. Until the suppression
-of serfdom, at all events, the class was regarded much as a necessary
-adjunct to the working of the mines. But times have changed. From
-the day on which the serfs were emancipated, mining has retrograded
-as steadily as agriculture has advanced. The authorities have
-not yet been able to make up their minds to abandon the old routine
-of work, but they have to pay such high sums to get it carried on
-that the net profit from the mines is now inconsiderable. Throwing
-open the mines freely to energetic workers, probably the only thorough
-means of improving the present state of things, has been
-proposed in some districts, but is still far from being an accomplished
-fact. The free use of the soil, as far as the plough penetrates, has
-been customary so long that it has become, to a certain extent, a prescriptive
-right. To be sure, as I have already pointed out, no one
-owns the land he tills, not even the spot on which his house stands,
-but, in the peasants’ eyes, what belongs to the Czar belongs to the
-“good Lord God”, and the latter willingly permits every believer to
-make use of it. As a matter of fact, the administration of the
-crown-lands levies forty <i>kopeks</i> of annual rent on every <i>hektar</i> of
-land (2½ acres) which is brought under the plough; but it is not
-particularly strict in the matter, and the peasant on his side does
-not feel it at all incumbent on him to be very precise. Thus each
-peasant, in reality, cultivates as much as he can, and chooses it
-wherever he pleases.</p>
-
-<p>It is doing the peasant of to-day on the crown-lands no more
-than justice to describe him as well-built, wide-awake, handy, skilful,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_519">[Pg 519]</span>
-intelligent, hospitable, good-natured and warm-hearted, and it is not
-too much to say that his prosperity has given him considerable self-esteem
-and a certain appreciation of freedom. His bearing is freer
-and less depressed than that of the Russian peasants. He is polite
-and obliging, submissive, and therefore easily managed; but he is
-not servile, cringing or abject, and the impression he makes on a
-stranger is by no means unfavourable. But he possesses all the
-qualities which we call loutishness in a high degree, and several
-others as well, which are calculated to weaken the first impression.
-Although he has had more educational advantages than any others
-of his class in Siberia, he is anything but in love with school. He is
-strictly religious and ready to give up what he possesses to the
-Church, but he looks upon school as an institution which spoils men
-rather than educates them. With a lasting recollection of a former
-state of things, when the old discharged soldiers, who held the educational
-sceptre in the times of his fathers, did not scruple to send
-the scholars for “schnaps”, and even to maltreat them while under its
-influence, he is exceedingly suspicious of everything connected with
-“education”. He also clings, peasant-like, to whatever has been in
-the past, and imagines that more knowledge than he himself possesses
-will be injurious to his children, and it is by no means easy to convert
-him from this opinion. The state of education is thus very
-low. It is only exceptionally that he has acquired the art of writing,
-and he invariably regards books as entirely superfluous articles.
-But he clings, on that account, so much the more firmly to the
-superstition which his Church countenances and promulgates. He
-rarely knows the names of the months, but can always tell off the
-names of the saints and their festivals on his fingers: God and the
-saints, archangel and devil, death, heaven, and hell occupy his
-mind more than all else. He cannot be described as easily satisfied,
-yet he is perfectly contented. He does not wish for more than the
-necessaries of life, and therefore only works as much as he absolutely
-must. But neither his farm premises nor the fields which he calls
-his can be too large, neither his family nor his flock too numerous.</p>
-
-<p>“How is it with you here?” I asked, through an interpreter, one
-of the heads of a village whom we picked up on the way.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_520">[Pg 520]</span></p>
-
-<p>“God still bears with our sins,” was the answer.</p>
-
-<p>“Are your wives good, faithful, kindly, and helpful to you?”</p>
-
-<p>“There are good and bad.”</p>
-
-<p>“Are your children obedient, and do they cause you joy?”</p>
-
-<p>“We have nothing to complain of in regard to them.”</p>
-
-<p>“Is the land you till fruitful; does it yield you a rich harvest?”</p>
-
-<p>“If it yields us corn tenfold, we are content.”</p>
-
-<p>“Do your cattle thrive?”</p>
-
-<p>“We are content.”</p>
-
-<p>“How many horses have you?”</p>
-
-<p>“Thirty-two; there may perhaps be thirty-five.”</p>
-
-<p>“And how many of these do you require for your work?”</p>
-
-<p>“Eight, ten, and sometimes twelve.”</p>
-
-<p>“Then you bring up the rest to sell?”</p>
-
-<p>“I may perhaps sell one of them some day.”</p>
-
-<p>“And what shall you do with the others?”</p>
-
-<p>“<i>Nitschewo.</i>”</p>
-
-<p>“How many cows and sheep have you?”</p>
-
-<p>“I do not know. My wife takes charge of the cows, sheep, and
-pigs.”</p>
-
-<p>“Have you heavy taxes to pay?”</p>
-
-<p>“I am content.”</p>
-
-<p>“Have you anything to complain of?”</p>
-
-<p>“I am content.”</p>
-
-<p>“So you have no complaints whatever to make; everything is
-quite satisfactory?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, not everything; I have one complaint.”</p>
-
-<p>“What is that?”</p>
-
-<p>“The land is becoming uncomfortable.”</p>
-
-<p>“Uncomfortable; what does that mean?”</p>
-
-<p>“Why, it is getting too small for us.”</p>
-
-<p>“Too small; in what way?”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, the villages are springing up everywhere like mushrooms
-from the soil. One has scarcely room to turn now, and does not
-know where to lay out one’s fields. If I had not been too old I
-should have left this part.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_521">[Pg 521]</span></p>
-
-<p>“The villages spring up like mushrooms from the soil? But
-where? I see none. How far is the next village from yours?”</p>
-
-<p>“Fifteen <i>versts</i>” (ten miles).</p>
-
-<p>Thus does the peasant of the crown estate speak and think.
-The vast land is not spacious enough for him, and yet the twentieth
-part of what he has at his disposal would suffice for him if he would
-cultivate it. For the land is so fertile that it richly rewards even a
-very small amount of labour. But if it does once fail, if the harvest
-does not turn out as well as usual, if the peasant suffers from want
-instead of from superfluity, he regards this not as the natural consequence
-of his own laziness, but as a dispensation of God, as a
-punishment laid upon him for his sins.</p>
-
-<p>In reality, however, he is very comfortable in spite of his sins
-and their punishment, and has more reason to talk of his reward.
-For not scarcity but superfluity troubles him. The government
-allows each peasant fifteen <i>hektars</i> of the best land, usually at his
-own choice, for every male member of his family; but of the
-400,000 square <i>versts</i> of the crown-estate, only 234,000 had been
-taken up till 1876, so it does not matter much even now whether a
-peasant restricts himself to what he has a right to or not. Some
-families use not less than twelve or fifteen hundred <i>hektars</i>, and to
-these it is certainly a matter of indifference whether they keep only
-the number of horses necessary for their work, or twenty or thirty
-more. In reality, it often happens that the superfluous animals
-relieve the peasants from a heavy care&mdash;that of turning to account
-the over-abundant harvest which the extremely deficient means of
-transport prevent his converting into money. In a country in whose
-capital, under ordinary circumstances, the <i>pood</i> or thirty-six pounds
-of rye-meal is sold at sixpence, of wheat-meal at ninepence, of beef in
-winter at about one shilling and twopence at most; where a sheep
-costs four shillings, a weaned calf ten, a pig eight, and an excellent
-horse seldom more than five pounds of English money, an unusually
-good season lowers prices so far that the too-abundant harvest
-becomes a burden. When the peasant, who in any case works only
-when he must, can only get about one shilling and twopence for
-about two hundredweights of grain, the flail becomes too heavy in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_522">[Pg 522]</span>
-his hand, and the harvest, according to his limited ideas, becomes
-a curse.</p>
-
-<p>These conditions, which apply to the present day, explain most
-of the vices as well as many of the virtues of our colonist: his
-laziness, his incorrigible contentment, his indifference to losses, his
-liberality to the needy, his compassion for the unfortunate. They
-also explain the intense desire, innate in all Siberians, to increase
-the population. The vast land is hungry for inhabitants, if I may
-so speak. Therefore even now the Siberian looks with pride on a
-numerous family; and there is no foundling asylum in the whole
-country. Why should there be? Every woman who cannot bring
-up the child she has borne, or who wants to be rid of it, finds someone
-willing and anxious to take the little creature off her hands.
-“Give it to me,” says the peasant to the faithless mother: “I will
-bring it up;” and he looks as pleased as if a foal had just been
-added to his stock. In former times, when the population was
-considerably less than it is now, children were married while still
-immature, or scarcely mature, so that they might become parents
-as soon as possible and gain other hands to help them; now youths
-do not usually marry until the beginning of their eighteenth year,
-but they frequently wed older women who give promise of early
-child-bearing, and the designs of such women upon marriageable
-youths are not only winked at but encouraged by the bridegroom’s
-parents.</p>
-
-<p>In order that romance may not be altogether awanting, I may
-mention that elopements of young girls with love-struck youths,
-and secret marriages, are by no means rare occurrences among the
-peasants of the Altai. But the great majority of these elopements
-take place with the consent of all concerned, thus also of the parents
-of both bride and bridegroom&mdash;to avoid the customary entertaining
-of the whole village at a meal, simple in itself, but accompanied by
-a great deal of brandy. As may be imagined, however, love overcomes
-all obstacles, particularly the disapproval of parents, on the
-crown-lands as elsewhere. The maiden, like every other on the
-round earth, is soon won over by the youth who desires to run away
-with her; a holy servant of the Church can also be procured at all<span class="pagenum" id="Page_523">[Pg 523]</span>
-times by the payment of an exorbitantly high fee; but the angry
-parents are not so easily reconciled. The mother curses her daughter,
-the father his son; both swear by all the saints never to see their
-depraved children again.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse indent0">“And Heaven, full of kindness,</div>
-<div class="verse indent0">Is patient with man’s blindness.”</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>But it is not from above that the reconciliation comes; that is
-brought about by a magic power beyond compare, known as
-<i>schnaps</i> among the races who inhabit German territory, as <i>vodki</i>
-among those living on the sacred soil of Russia. As soon as the
-father-in-law drinks, the young bridegroom has gained the day;
-for the mother-in-law drinks too, and the luscious nectar softens
-her inflexible heart also. If some friends arrive, as if by chance, to
-assist at the reconciliation festival, they are not denied admittance,
-for the cost of entertaining them is much less than if the whole
-village had assembled, and, drinking fervently, had called down the
-blessing of Heaven upon the newly-united pair. Who can deny
-after this that love, pure, holy love, makes even a peasant youth of
-the Altai inventive?</p>
-
-<p>The bride of the Altai receives no dowry; her mother, on the other
-hand, expects a gift from the bridegroom, and sometimes demands
-it with much storming, weeping and howling, after the manner of
-women. Only under special circumstances, as, for instance, when,
-on the morning after the wedding, the nuptial linen does not fulfil
-the expectations of the assembled guests, the contrary takes place.
-The intelligent and experienced father-in-law makes use of the
-magic means already mentioned, produces an inspiriting number
-of bottles thoughtfully laid in beforehand, promises the indignant,
-or at any rate downcast son-in-law a foal, an ox, a sucking-pig, and
-the like; the minds of all are made easy again, and the reconciliation
-is effected.</p>
-
-<p>And why should the bridegroom be angry for ever? Others
-have fared no better, and the future will equalize much. Paternal
-joys often blossom even under irregular circumstances, and they
-are paternal joys all the same. For even the poorest couple have<span class="pagenum" id="Page_524">[Pg 524]</span>
-no cares about their household expenses, if they will use their hands
-at all; people are willing to help them with this and that, and if a
-bountiful Heaven will only be moderate enough for a few years in
-the outpouring of its blessings, so that the price of grain and stock
-may not fall too low, a tea-caddy and cups will adorn a corner
-table, and silk coverlets the big double-bed, shining images the
-right-hand corner, and indescribably noble pictorial representations
-of the hunting of the lion, tiger, bear, wolf, elephant, stag, and
-crocodile the walls of the cleanly-kept “best room”, which is never
-awanting in the better class of peasant houses.</p>
-
-<p>A domestic life scarcely differing from that already described
-beckons to every convict who is exiled to Siberia, to one sooner, to
-another later, if he wishes to attain to it, if he lives long enough,
-and is to a certain extent favoured by fortune. While in Siberia
-I came to have views about exiles and banishment very different
-from those I had held before visiting the country; but I may
-remark at the outset that I am not one of those who bestow more
-sympathy upon a murderer, a robber, an incendiary, a thief, or any
-other scoundrel, than upon the industrious paterfamilias who
-strives, in the sweat of his brow, to bring up a numerous family
-honestly, and that I have never been able to soar to that loftiness
-of view which seeks to mitigate all punishment and relax all confinement.</p>
-
-<p>On an average, fifteen thousand people are sent from Russia,
-“verschickt”, as the expression is among the German Russians.
-Those who have been guilty of grave crimes are sentenced for life,
-of less serious offences for a number of years. It is not within my
-province to discuss the severities or deficiencies of the Russian penal
-code; but the fact that the penalty of death is imposed only for the
-gravest and rarest of all crimes does not suggest too great severity.
-But it is undoubtedly a hardship that exiles sentenced for political
-causes should be treated on the way to Siberia, and often when
-there, exactly like common criminals.</p>
-
-<p>Condemned exiles are first transferred from the prison in the
-district town to that in the capital of the government, and thence
-transported by rail or by the ordinary peasant-wagon to Nijni-Novgorod,
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_525">[Pg 525]</span>Kasan, or Perm. Whether criminals are still forced to march
-in chains, two abreast, and thus to carry their fetters for the whole
-journey, I do not know; I have never seen this, and I am firmly
-convinced that the well-known mildness of the late Czar would
-never have suffered this barbarous proceeding. In the towns already
-mentioned, as well as in Tjumen and Tomsk, there are spacious
-prisons, and, at intervals along such routes as have not been deserted
-because of the railway, there are less roomy buildings for the safe
-housing of the exiles during night. Whenever it can be avoided,
-the exiles are not compelled to travel on foot, but are conveyed to
-their destination by rail, by the wagons already referred to, or by
-regularly plying steamers: thus from Nijni-Novgorod or Kasan to
-Perm, from Tjumen <i>via</i> Thura, Tobolsk, Irtish, Ob, and Tom, to
-Tomsk. The prisons are simple buildings, but thoroughly clean;
-the hospitals connected with, but sufficiently far apart from them,
-are model institutions; the river-boats are unusually long, two-decked
-vessels, which may best be described as gigantic floating
-cages, for the whole upper portion above the deck is latticed after
-the fashion of a bird-cage. Each of these boats, which is towed by
-a steamer, affords the necessary accommodation for six hundred
-persons, and contains also a large kitchen, a sick-room, a small
-dispensary, quarters for the accompanying soldiers and for the crew.
-Between Perm and Tjumen run wagons, which also resemble bird-cages,
-and which serve for the transport of dangerous criminals.</p>
-
-<p>Every exile receives from government a cloak of heavy gray
-woollen material, in the middle of the back of which is fastened
-a diamond-shaped piece of cloth of colours varying with the length
-of the sentence, so that the soldiers in charge may be acquainted
-with it as far as is necessary. For procuring food on the journey, ten,
-or in the case of “unfortunates” of higher social standing, fifteen
-<i>kopeks</i> a day are allowed to each; but during a prolonged stay
-in prison the rate is seven and fifteen respectively. This sum is so
-liberal that, if spent with care, it suffices to procure all the
-necessaries of life, although every day, except during Lent, three-quarters
-of a pound of meat are served out to each. If wife and
-children accompany a condemned criminal, each of these receives<span class="pagenum" id="Page_526">[Pg 526]</span>
-a similar sum. Additional earning is permitted, and money gained
-by work or begging flows, though perhaps not quite untaxed, into
-the pockets of the condemned himself, or down his throat in the
-form of vodki.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f79">
-<img src="images/fig79.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 75.&mdash;Exiles on the Way to Siberia.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>I said that everyone was at liberty to take his wife and children
-with him into exile, and I may add that he usually does so. A long
-sentence of imprisonment for a serious crime is a ground of divorce
-even in Russia; every married woman is, therefore, free to choose
-whether she will accompany her husband into exile, or remain
-in her native land. Even children who have attained their fourteenth
-year have the right to decide for themselves whether they
-will leave Russia for Siberia with their parents or not. But the
-government prefer that wife and children should accompany the
-criminal, and they encourage it in every possible way, therefore they
-give much consideration to the question of how far it is practicable
-to lessen the difficulties and disagreeablenesses of the journey.</p>
-
-<p>That it is oppressive under all circumstances cannot be denied;
-but the journey of the exiles is by no means so indescribably dreadful
-as it has been depicted. Only those convicted of the gravest
-crimes are conducted to their destination in chains; the rest enjoy
-more freedom than our convicts. The portion of the journey which
-has to be performed in the steamers or the boats they tow is
-the worst. Here all the exiles and their families are cooped up
-together, and excesses of all descriptions are committed by the most
-degraded criminals, who are only, or can only, be kept under
-sufficient restraint in rare cases. The expert thief steals from the
-bungler in the same disreputable calling, the more violent overpowers
-the weaker, or takes the soles off the boots of a sleeper
-to possess himself of the bank-notes supposed to be hidden there;
-the incorrigible shakes the resolution of the penitent, or destroys
-utterly those who had previously given ground for hopes of
-improvement. Male and female criminals are now separated from
-each other, but the members of a family remain with their head,
-and the wife and daughters of an exile are always in danger during
-the journey, no matter what attempts are made to avoid this. On
-the other hand, the steamer shortens the journey tenfold, and thus
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_529">[Pg 529]</span>removes those who are not irretrievably ruined, and those who are
-not criminals, so much the sooner from evil influences. More difficult,
-certainly, yet less dangerous to the more hopeful criminals, is
-the journey by land. Driving along Russian roads in a Russian
-peasant-wagon drawn by galloping Russian horses is certainly a
-species of torture according to our ideas; but it is not so to those
-who have, from their youth upwards, been accustomed to no better
-conveyances or smoother roads. To be sure, the exiles are more
-closely packed in a wagon holding six or eight people than the
-peasant packs his when he drives with his family; the driver or the
-accompanying soldier is in no way more comfortable than the
-convicts, with the exception of the worst criminals, whose chains
-jar more uncomfortably than usual on such a journey. An exile
-belonging to a cultured family, and convicted, for instance, on
-political grounds, cries out under the torture of such a journey, and
-is fully justified in depicting it in the blackest possible colours from
-his own point of view; but if we take into account the local
-conditions, and the customs of the country, we must at least
-acquit the directors of these forced journeyings from the charge of
-cruelty under which they lie. And as for the journeys on foot,
-these never take place in winter, it is only strong and able men
-who are forced to make them, not more than forty <i>versts</i> a day are
-traversed, and every third day is spent in resting at one of the
-prisons on the way. The soldiers in charge walk too, they must
-keep constant watch over the prisoners for whom they are responsible,
-and must therefore exert themselves much more; for if the
-murderer has to drag his chains, the soldier has to carry his weapon,
-baggage, and ammunition. He, however, is the irreproachable
-servant of the state, the other an outcast from society!</p>
-
-<p>But it is certainly unjust that an exile of higher social position
-who has been convicted of a common crime should, if he has still
-means at his disposal, or can obtain them, be treated otherwise than
-one of lower degree, who is sentenced for the same crime. The
-former is permitted to travel to his place of banishment at his own
-time, and with every comfort, guarded only by two Cossacks, whom
-he must pay for the double journey.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_530">[Pg 530]</span></p>
-
-<p>While every unbiassed Russian or Siberian admits this injustice
-frankly, officials and exiles alike deny that there is cruelty on the
-part of the escorting soldiers, or of any other persons, whether of
-high or inferior rank, who are intrusted with the guardianship and
-government of the convicts. It does happen that mutinous exiles
-are shot or killed in some way on the journey; but such events occur
-very rarely, and only when all other means of quelling insubordination
-have failed. The Russian is not cruel like the Spaniard, the
-Turk, the Greek, or the Southern Slav; on the contrary, a mistaken
-compassionateness and sluggishness makes him mild and considerate
-rather than severe and harsh; he may force men and animals to
-exert themselves to the utmost, but he does not torture them in
-order to gloat over their torments. Even the name “unfortunate”,
-by which it is customary to describe all exiles, originates in a feeling
-deeply rooted among the people, and this feeling of compassion is
-shared by everyone, including soldiers and police-officers, and the
-inspectors and warders of the prisons. That even the most long-suffering
-and lamblike patience may now and again be excited to
-angry rage by one or more miscreants is intelligible enough; that
-miserable wretches at the convict stations levy tax even on misfortune
-in order to gain more money than the state promises them
-in salary, I was informed by some of the exiles; that the rebels who
-were sentenced to exile after the last Polish rebellion were treated
-by the accompanying soldiers more harshly than other exiles,
-indeed with pitiless severity, was the complaint of a former gendarme
-who told me the story of his life through a German-Russian
-interpreter. But to make the present government responsible for
-such excesses, to reproach them with constant barbarity, to persist
-in talking about the knout, which was abolished years ago, and in
-general to represent our Eastern neighbours as incorrigible barbarians,
-is simply senseless, because in every respect untrue.</p>
-
-<p>All the laws, regulations, and arrangements in force at present
-prove that the government takes all possible thought for the exiles,
-and strives to render their lot less hard, and moreover gives to each
-an opportunity of sooner or later improving his lot. To treat exiles
-with unjust severity is strictly forbidden and heavily punished; to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_531">[Pg 531]</span>
-take anything unjustly away from them is looked upon as a grave
-offence. Everywhere there reigns the desire to lessen the severity
-of the punishment if it can be done, to give the convict back to
-human society, if that be possible. But it is only those who really
-deserve help that receive it, not those who pretend improvement.
-For they do not make hypocrites in Siberia as we do in our prisons.
-The mania for making prisoners canting hypocrites, which is too
-often seen among us, is unknown among the Russians, for they
-take it for granted that everyone honours and reveres the Church
-and the “dear saints”, fasts at the proper season, and generally performs
-what little is demanded by a church which is based wholly
-upon external forms. On the other hand, they deal with evil in the
-right way, and they achieve results which we might, nay, must envy.</p>
-
-<p>Of the fifteen thousand banished, scarcely one thousand are sent
-to work in the mines each year; the rest are distributed among
-the different governments, being, as it is called, exiled to become
-colonists. In the larger prisons not only are men and women
-separately confined, but Christians, Mohammedans, and Jews are
-kept apart, and religion is taken into consideration in distributing
-the colonists. Whenever the convict sentenced to one of the lighter
-penalties has reached the place of his destination, he is presented, on
-behalf of the government, with a certificate of permission to reside
-there, and is thenceforward free to pursue any lawful calling; but he
-may not leave his district, or even his village, without the permission
-of the authorities, and he is under the constant surveillance of the
-police. About the reason for his banishment, or about his earlier
-life, he is never questioned, at least never with malevolent intentions,
-for “in the house of the hanged one does not speak of the
-hangman”. The people among whom he lives are, or have been,
-themselves unfortunates, or are descended from exiles; the few free
-settlers adopt the manners and customs of the other Siberians. The
-“unfortunates” are helped in every justifiable way. Even in the
-prisons on the way there are workshops where industrious prisoners
-may earn a little; schools also are established to prevent the ruin of
-the rising generation, and the orphans of criminals are brought up
-at such an expenditure of time and money that only the wilfully
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_532">[Pg 532]</span>blind can fail to see this gleam of light, only the maliciously dumb
-refrain from speaking of it. In the prison at Tjumen we visited
-the prison school, in which a young priest imparted instruction to
-Christian, Jewish, and Tartar children alike, and it was a good face,
-a veritable head of Christ, that this long-haired and bearded, though
-still youthful ecclesiastic showed us. To be sure, the Jewish and
-Tartar boys had to read and repeat the catechism of the Orthodox<span class="pagenum" id="Page_533">[Pg 533]</span>
-Church as well as the Christian children, and a quiet hope of
-winning one or another of the former to Christianity may perhaps
-have lived in the breast of the priest; but what harm could priest
-or catechism do compared with the advantage gained? The boys
-learned to read Russian by means of the catechism, and they learned
-writing and arithmetic as well; that was the main thing. In the
-same place we visited an orphan asylum founded, built, and for the
-most part maintained and conducted, by a wealthy lady, and destined
-for the children of exiles who died on the journey or in the town
-prisons. It was a model institution in the best sense of the term,
-with happy child-faces, beautiful school-rooms and dormitories,
-workshops and play-rooms, a little theatre with all the necessary
-appurtenances, the whole a work of mercy whose value cannot be
-gainsaid. But we were to learn more than this.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f80">
-<img src="images/fig80.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 76.&mdash;Interior of a Siberian Peasant’s Dwelling.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>In Tjumen, Omsk, Tobolsk, and not only in the towns, but
-throughout the various governments, we lived among and had constant
-intercourse with exiles who had for the most part been convicted of
-lighter offences, thieves, cheats, sharpers, tramps, and vagabonds, as
-well as with seditious Poles and other rebels. The bank director
-who received us hospitably was a Polish rebel sentenced to twelve
-years’ banishment, and the joiner who made us some boxes had
-robbed the post; the coachman who drove us had been guilty of a
-serious theft; the waiter who served us had picked the pocket of a
-guest in an inn; the friendly man from Riga who helped us to cross
-the Irtish had forged a document; Goldmacher, our Jewish valet,
-had sold little Russian girls to Turkish harems; the maid who
-cleaned our room had killed her child; the chemist in Omsk was
-said to have dealt in poisons with no good intentions. After a time
-we looked at every one in the light of the crime or misdemeanour
-which he might have committed, and we had only to inquire of the
-superintendent of police about some worthy men, among whom were
-merchants, notaries, photographers, actors, to hear of false coining,
-embezzlement, fraud, and so on. Yet all these people earned their
-daily bread, and something over, and many a one who wished to
-remain unknown would not have suffered inquiries as to his past to
-go unpunished, because he had completely broken with it.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_534">[Pg 534]</span></p>
-
-<p>That an exile who has been a criminal can thus break with
-his past is due entirely to his fellow-citizens and the government,
-who strive, by every means in their power, to further all honest
-endeavours to begin a new life. Those who desire work get it
-without mistrust; they are taken into service without anxiety; the
-former thief is employed as groom, coachman, or cook; the child-murderess
-is hired to wait upon children; the convict artisan plies
-his own trade when his services are required. And we are assured
-that those who employ them have seldom reason to regret it. Thus
-many a criminal is gradually restored to society as a respectable
-citizen, and his sins are not visited upon his children to the fourth,
-indeed scarcely to the second generation. What is practically
-impossible with us is quite possible in Siberia&mdash;to transform a
-criminal into an honest man. That this does not always succeed,
-that there are incorrigibles in Russia as well as among us, is freely
-admitted by the Siberians themselves; but it is a noteworthy fact
-that the idler who is cast off by his community in Siberia falls
-into crime much more readily than the criminal who has suffered
-punishment relapses into his former habits.</p>
-
-<p>While the class of exiles whom we have hitherto considered are
-allowed to follow any occupation they may choose, those who have
-committed graver crimes are compelled to labour in the mines.
-With regard to Nertschinsk, in which on an average four thousand
-of these unfortunate exiles work, I have obtained through General
-von Eichwald, the present superintendent of the mines on the
-crown-lands, the most precise information, and what I learned about
-the convicts themselves may be shortly related as follows:&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>All the criminals who are condemned to the mines are brought
-thither in chains, and are obliged to perform the same amount of
-work in their fetters as the miners who are free. The intelligent
-overseer of the mine, under whose command and surveillance they
-are, treats them well if only to secure his own life and the lives of
-his family, for he has not sufficient forces at his disposal to quell an
-insurrection should one arise. The crime of each convict is made
-known to him; so he asks no questions of the convict himself with
-regard to his past. But after some time the great majority pour
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_535">[Pg 535]</span>out their hearts to him and beg for a mitigation of punishment.
-The families of a criminal condemned to the mines are also allowed
-to follow him, or he is not prevented from forming family ties. If
-he is bound to humanity in this way, he often, very often, becomes
-penitent, and with repentance awakens the hope that the past may
-be forgotten, followed by the endeavour to make it so. He works
-one, two years in chains, conducts himself well, and thus awakens
-confidence. His superior orders his fetters to be removed. He<span class="pagenum" id="Page_536">[Pg 536]</span>
-remains true to his resolutions, continues to work diligently, and
-begins to take thought for his family. This binds him fast to the
-land he had dreaded so unspeakably at first; it turns out not so bad
-as he had expected, and he begins to grow contented. Now is the
-time to restore him to society. The overseer gives him permission
-to till the soil. Years have passed since his crime was committed;
-he only remembers it like an evil dream. Before him he sees a
-growing peasant-estate, behind him his chains. His native land
-seems strange to him now, and he has become reconciled to the
-foreign one. He becomes a peasant, works, earns money, and dies
-a reformed man. With his death the bondage of his children ceases,
-and they continue as free Siberian subjects to till the piece of land
-with which the government presents them. This is no invention,
-but reality.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f81">
-<img src="images/fig81.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 77.&mdash;Types of Siberian Convicts&mdash;“Condemned to the Mines”.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Not every criminal, however, thus submits to his fate. Full of
-resentment against it and against all mankind, discontented with
-everything and everyone, tired of work, perhaps also tortured by
-home-sickness, or at least pining for freedom, one finds out another
-in similar mood, and both, or several, resolve on flight. For weeks
-and months, perhaps for years, they watch for a favourable opportunity;
-one relates to the other over and over again the story of
-his life, describes to him in the most minute detail his native
-village, the locality and the house in which he spent his childhood,
-teaches him the names of his relations, of the people in the village,
-of the neighbouring villages and the nearest towns, omitting
-nothing, and impressing it all deeply on the mind of his comrade,
-who does the same to him, for they intend to exchange names and
-histories to render identification less easy in case of capture. A
-smith is bribed, won, persuaded to flight, and a tool to break the
-fetters is found, or, if need be, stolen. Spring has become a reality,
-the day of flight has come, and escaping without much probability
-of being missed for a few hours is very easy under the present
-system in the mines. If the fugitives reach the forests they are
-safe from recapture, but by no means from other dangers. For a
-wandering native Yakoot or Tungus hunting in the forest may be
-tempted by the sight of a fur-coat better than his own, and for its<span class="pagenum" id="Page_537">[Pg 537]</span>
-sake his sure bullet remorselessly ends a human life. Apart from
-such misadventures, the fugitive meets with scarcely any hindrance.
-For every Siberian, from innate good-nature, or compassion
-wrongly bestowed, perhaps also from fear or laziness, is more ready
-to help a fugitive than to hinder his flight. In all, or at any rate
-in many of the villages on the route, the villagers place a can of
-milk, a large piece of bread, and perhaps even a piece of meat
-behind an open window to furnish the fugitive who may pass
-through their village by night with food, and thus to prevent his
-stealing. So long as the fugitive takes only what is freely offered
-to him, so long as he begs for what he needs, refrains from seizing
-things forcibly, and neither steals nor robs, even the district-governor
-shuts an eye when unknown people travel by night through
-his village, appropriate the food intended for unfortunates, and seek
-and find a night’s rest in the baths, which are always warm, and
-always stand apart from the other buildings. And though an
-“unfortunate” should beg in broad daylight, no one will betray
-him; should the same “unfortunate” beg for a bridle, no one will
-refuse it who has one to spare. What he wants the bridle for they
-know well enough. Outside of the village the horses are grazing,
-untended by anyone notwithstanding wolves and bears. The
-fugitive walks up to the herd, throws the bridle over the head of
-a capable stallion, swings himself up on its broad back, and trots
-comfortably away.</p>
-
-<p>“Nikolai Alexandrovitch,” someone announces to the owner of the
-horse, “an unfortunate has just seized hold of your best black horse,
-and ridden away towards Romanowskaja; shall we follow him?”</p>
-
-<p>“<i>Nitschewo</i>,” answers Nikolai, “the little horse will come back;
-it is probably an unfortunate. Let him ride.”</p>
-
-<p>And the little horse does come back; for in the meadow behind
-Romanowskaja the “unfortunate” had exchanged it for a fresh one
-on which to continue his journey, while the black horse trots complacently
-home along the familiar road.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f82">
-<img src="images/fig82.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 78.&mdash;Flight of an Exile in Siberia.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Thus aided and abetted, ninety out of a hundred fugitive exiles
-reach Tjumen, Perm, and even Kasan. If they were more experienced
-in travel, or had some idea of geography, if they did not always keep<span class="pagenum" id="Page_538">[Pg 538]</span>
-to the same routes by which they travelled from Russia, very many,
-if not most of them, would reach their goal in safety. But in Tjumen,
-Perm, or Kasan nearly all are recaptured. And even if those who
-have exchanged names do not forget their <i>rôle</i>; or if others answer
-only “I don’t know” to every question, neither exchange of name
-nor obstinate ignorance will save them ultimately from the sentence
-to return to Siberia, nor from the strokes of the rod which are meted
-out to every recaptured fugitive. The captive has to traverse a
-second time the penal route, possibly only to make another attempt<span class="pagenum" id="Page_539">[Pg 539]</span>
-at escape shortly after his arrival. I am told that many exiles have
-travelled thus four, five, even six times through the greater part of
-Siberia.</p>
-
-<p>Fugitives who yield to the temptation to steal or commit some
-other crime on the way, come to an untimely end. In such cases the
-good-nature of the peasant-villagers is transformed into revengeful
-anger. If he is taken, nothing will save him from an agonizing
-death. Then a corpse is found on which no marks of violence are
-noticed. The body is buried, and the finding and burial are duly
-notified to the magistrates, who inform the governor, and he, in his
-turn, communicates with the governor-general, but the unhappy
-victim of popular fury has rotted in his grave before the government
-medical officer could reach the spot, even if he wished to do so.
-Upon whom this vengeance has fallen no one knows. In this way,
-but not by order of the government, an exile may disappear, and no
-one can tell what has befallen him, no authorities are able to give any
-information. But every exile who is sent to Siberia knows what
-awaits him if he should steal or commit any crime when a fugitive.
-And for this reason it is possible to live here, in the midst of thousands
-of criminals, as securely as anywhere else, perhaps more
-securely than in our great towns which contain the scum of humanity.</p>
-
-<p>I have attempted to give a faithful picture of the conditions
-which hold now, or which held in 1876.<a id="FNanchor_88" href="#Footnote_88" class="fnanchor">[87]</a> It has not been my intention
-to soften or embellish. Banishment to Siberia is in all cases a
-severe punishment. It is more severe in proportion to the culture
-of the person on whom it falls, and in the eyes of an educated man
-it must always seem terrible. But banishment to Siberia was never
-meant to be other than a punishment, and it was meant to fall more
-heavily on the educated than on the uneducated. The justice of
-such a principle may be disputed, but it cannot be entirely denied.
-It is only possible, however, to form a fair idea of the lot of exiles
-in Siberia when we compare it with that of our own criminals.</p>
-
-<p>What becomes of the unhappy beings who people our prisons?
-What becomes of their families, their wives, their children? What
-fate awaits the prisoners when their time of imprisonment has
-expired; what have their families to look forward to?</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_540">[Pg 540]</span></p>
-
-<p>Answers to these questions can be given by all who are acquainted
-with our penal institutions.</p>
-
-<p>If the unhappy lot of our criminals be compared, honestly and
-without prejudice, with that of the exiles in Siberia, the result will
-not be doubtful. Every true friend of humanity must echo the
-wish which came to me in the distant East, and which has never
-since left me:</p>
-
-<p>“If only we had a Siberia too: it would be better for our criminals,
-and better for ourselves”.</p>
-
-
-<hr class="full x-ebookmaker-drop" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="c20">AN ORNITHOLOGIST ON THE DANUBE.</h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>Hungary was, and is, and will continue to be one of the goals
-of the German ornithologist’s ambition. Situated more favourably
-than any other country in Europe, lying as it does between the
-North Sea and the Black Sea, the Baltic and the Mediterranean, the
-great northern plain and the Alps&mdash;including within its boundaries
-both the North and the South, steppes and mountains, forests, rivers,
-and marshes&mdash;it offers great advantages and attractions to resident
-and wandering birds alike, and thus possesses a richer bird-fauna
-perhaps than any other country in our quarter of the globe.
-Enthusiastic descriptions of this wealth, from the pen of our most
-illustrious investigators and masters, have contributed not a little
-to increase and strengthen the longing&mdash;I would almost call it
-inborn&mdash;that all the bird-lovers of Germany have to see Hungary.
-It is strange, however, that this beautiful, rich country, lying so
-near to us, has been so rarely visited by Germans.</p>
-
-<p>I myself had seen only its capital and what one can see of the
-country from the railway; I therefore shared most thoroughly
-in the longing of which I have just spoken. It was to be fulfilled,
-but only to return even more ardently thereafter. “None walks
-unpunished beneath the palms”, and no lover of birds can spend
-May-tide in Fruskagora without having for ever after a longing to
-return.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_541">[Pg 541]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Would you like,” asked my gracious patron, the Crown Prince
-Rudolph, “to accompany me to South Hungary for some eagle-shooting?
-I have definite reports of perhaps twenty eyries, and I
-think that we should all be able to learn much, if we visited them
-and observed diligently.”</p>
-
-<p>Twenty eyries! One must have been banished for long years on
-the dreary flats of North Germany, one must have gloated over the
-bright pictures raised in one’s mind by the glowing reports of some
-roaming ornithologist, to appreciate the joy with which I agreed to go.
-Twenty eyries, at no very great distance from Vienna and not far
-from Pesth: I should not have been my father’s son had I remained
-indifferent. The days seemed hours when we were busy with all
-sorts of preparations, and again they seemed to lengthen out into
-weeks, such was my impatient desire to be off.</p>
-
-<p>It was but a small travelling party that started from Vienna on
-the second day of the Easter holidays (1878), but we were merry
-and hopeful, eager for sport and energetic. Besides the august
-lord of the chase and his illustrious brother-in-law, there were but
-three&mdash;Obersthofmeister Count Bombelles, Eugen von Homeyer,
-and myself. A day later, at Pesth, we got aboard the swift and
-comfortable vessel which carried us towards the mouth of the
-“blonde” Danube. In Lenten mist suffused with morning sunlight,
-the proud Kaiserburg stood out before us, and the gardens of the
-Bloxberg were bright with the first green of the young year, as
-we took leave of the capital of Hungary.</p>
-
-<p>With the scenery of the Rhine, of the Upper, or even, it is said,
-of the Lower Danube, the stretch of country through which we
-were now rapidly borne cannot be compared. A few kilometres
-below the sister towns the banks become flat, the hills on the right
-side of the stream sink into featureless heights, and only in the dim
-blue distance does the eye catch the gently curved lines of moderately
-high ranges. From the left bank extends the broad plain.
-Without end, without change, it stretches in uniform monotony;
-hardly one of the large, rich villages is conspicuous enough to catch
-the eye. Here and there a herdsman in shepherd’s dress leans
-on his strong staff, but his charge is not a flock of simple sheep;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_542">[Pg 542]</span>
-grunting, bristly pigs crowd around him&mdash;how brown with the sun
-he is!&mdash;or lie in rows about him enjoying comfortable rest. Around
-the pools filled by the floods the lapwing flutters; over the broad
-flats the hen-harrier wings its unsteady flight; the martins sweep in
-and out of their nests burrowed in the steep banks; dainty water-wagtails
-trip about on the shingle-roofs of the innumerable boatmills;
-ducks and cormorants rise in noisy alarm from the stream;
-while kites and hooded crows fly in circles over its surface. Such is
-a picture of this region.</p>
-
-<p>Soon, however, the landscape changes. The alluvial plain,
-traversed by the river which made it, broadens out. Over the flats,
-not yet protected by dikes, and submerged by every flood, the river
-extends in numerous, for the most part nameless branches. A
-luxuriant growth of wood clothes the banks and islands, and as the
-fringe is too dense to allow any glimpse of the interior, this meadow-wood
-bounds the view for mile after mile. Variable and yet
-monotonous are the pictures which appear and disappear, as in a
-dissolving view, while the ship follows the windings of the stream.
-Willows and poplars&mdash;white, silvery, and black&mdash;elms and oaks, the
-first predominating, the last often sparse in their occurrence, form
-the material of these pictures. Above the dense fringe, which consists
-almost wholly of willow, there rise older trees of the same
-kind; beyond these in the woods, which often extend far inland, rise
-the impressive crowns of lofty silver poplars and black poplars, and
-the bald heads of old gnarled oaks. A single glance embraces all
-phases of tree-life from the sprouting willow-shoot to the dying
-giant&mdash;trees living, sprouting, growing, and exultant in the fulness
-of their strength; trees withered at the top, victims of fire from the
-heavens or from the earth and half reduced to tinder; trees prostrate
-on the ground, crumbling and rotting. Between these we see
-the gleams of flowing or standing water; above all is the great dome
-of heaven. In the secret shades we hear the song of the nightingale
-and the finches, the lyrics of the thrush, the shrill cry of falcon
-or eagle, the laugh of the woodpecker, the raven’s croak, and the
-heron’s shrill shriek.</p>
-
-<p>Here and there is a glade not yet overgrown, a gap in the wood<span class="pagenum" id="Page_543">[Pg 543]</span>
-and through which we catch a glimpse of the landscape in the
-background,&mdash;of the broad plain on the right bank of the stream, and
-the fringe of hills in the distance, of an apparently endless succession
-of fields, from which at distant intervals rise the church spires
-which mark the scattered villages or, it may be, townships. In
-summer, when all is of one predominantly green hue, in late
-autumn, winter, and early spring, when the trees are leafless, this
-shore landscape may seem almost dull; now it is monotonous, but yet
-not unattractive, for all the willows and poplars have young leaves,
-or in many cases catkins, and, here and there at least, they make
-the woods gay and gladsome.</p>
-
-<p>Only at a few places is such a wood as this accessible; for the
-most part it is a huge morass. If one attempts, either on land or
-by waterways, to penetrate into the interior, one, sooner or later,
-reaches a jungle which has no parallel in Germany. Only on those
-spots which are raised above the level of the river, and which have
-a rich, in part muddy soil, is one reminded of German vegetation.
-Here lilies of the valley, with their soft, green leaves and fragrant,
-white bells, form a most decorative carpeting, covering the ground
-for wide stretches; but even here the nettles and bramble-bushes
-grow in wanton luxuriance, and various climbing plants spread
-their tangled net over wide areas of the forest, so that almost
-insuperable obstacles and barriers prevent further progress. In
-other places the wood is literally a bog out of which the giant trees
-rear their stems. Mighty stems indeed, but many&mdash;victims of old
-age, tempest, thunderbolt, and the careless herdsman’s fire&mdash;lie
-rotting in the water, already forming, in many cases, the soil from
-which rises a younger and vigorous growth of underwood. Other
-trees, which have not yet succumbed to decay, lie prostrate and
-bar the way. The wind has swept the fallen wood, both thick
-branches and delicate twigs, into floating islands and obtrusive
-snags, which present to the small boat obstacles not less difficult
-than those which obstruct the explorer on foot. Similar floating
-islands, composed of reeds and sedges, form a deceptive covering
-over wide stretches of water. Raised mud-banks, on which willows
-and poplars have found a suitable soil for their seeds, have become<span class="pagenum" id="Page_544">[Pg 544]</span>
-impenetrable thickets, disputing the possession of the ground even
-with the forests of reeds which are often many square miles in
-extent. Dwarf willows, at once youthful and senile forests, form
-dark patches in the heart of the reed-beds. What may be concealed
-in the gloomy wood, with its bogs and thickets, or by the
-reeds, remains almost quite hidden from the searching eye of the
-naturalist, for he can see through no more than the fringe of this
-wilderness, nor traverse it except along the broader waterways.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f83">
-<img src="images/fig83.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 79.&mdash;Herons and their Nests.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Such was the district in which our sport began. The eagles,
-the royal rulers of the air, which formed the primary object of our
-quest, did not, indeed, come within range, nor even within sight,
-on the first day of our journey; but, on the other hand, we visited
-the famous heronry on the island of Adony, and had abundant
-opportunities of observing the life of the brooding birds. For two<span class="pagenum" id="Page_545">[Pg 545]</span>
-generations, herons and cormorants have nested on the tall trees of
-the island, among the much older residents&mdash;the rooks; and, though
-the cormorants have greatly diminished in numbers since the beginning
-of the sixties, they have not yet entirely disappeared. Forty
-years ago, according to Landbeck’s estimate, there nested here about
-one thousand pairs of night-herons, two hundred and fifty pairs of
-common herons, fifty pairs of little egrets, and a hundred pairs of
-cormorants; but now the rooks, of which there are from fifteen
-hundred to two thousand pairs, form the great bulk of the colony,
-while the common herons have dwindled to about a hundred and
-fifty, the night-herons to thirty or forty pairs, the egrets have
-disappeared entirely, and only the cormorants remain in approximately
-the same numbers as formerly. Yet at least an echo of the
-former life rang in our ears as we set foot on the island, and here
-and there the forest still presents the old picture almost unchanged.</p>
-
-<p>The various birds in such a mixed heronry appear to live in the
-best accord, yet there is neither peace nor friendliness among them.
-One oppresses and supports, plunders and feeds the other. The
-herons invade the rooks’ colonies to save themselves the labour of
-nest-building; the rooks collect twigs and build their nests, and the
-herons drive them away, that they may take forcible possession of
-the nests, or at any rate of the building material; the cormorants
-dispute with the herons the possession of the stolen booty, and
-finally assume despotic authority over the entire colony. But even
-they, thieves and robbers as they are, are plundered and robbed in
-their turn, for the crows and kites&mdash;the last being seldom absent
-from such settlements&mdash;feed themselves and their young to no
-slight extent on the fish which the herons and cormorants have
-brought for the sustenance of their mates and young. The first
-meeting of the various kinds of brooding birds is hostile. Violent
-and protracted battles are fought, and the ten times vanquished
-renews hostilities for the eleventh time before he learns to submit
-to the inevitable. But in time the inter-relations are better
-adjusted, as the individual members of the colony recognize that
-there are advantages in social life, and that there is room enough
-for peaceable neighbours. Fighting and quarrelling never cease<span class="pagenum" id="Page_546">[Pg 546]</span>
-entirely, but the bitter war of species against species gives place gradually
-to conditions which are at least endurable. The birds become
-accustomed to each other, and make use of the capabilities of their
-adversaries as far as may be. It may even happen, indeed, that
-those who have been plundered follow those who have robbed them
-when the latter find it necessary to change their brooding-places.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f84">
-<img src="images/fig84.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 80.&mdash;Rooks and their Nests.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>The spectacle of a mixed heronry is fascinating in the highest
-degree. “There is hardly anything”, writes Baldamus, “more
-varied, more attractive, more beautiful, than these Hungarian
-marshes with their bird-life, which is remarkable both for the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_547">[Pg 547]</span>
-number of individuals and for their variety of form and colouring.
-Let any one look at the most conspicuous of these marsh-dwellers
-in a collection, and then let him endeavour to picture them to
-himself standing, walking, running, climbing, flying, in short,
-living, and he will be obliged to admit that such bird-life is
-marvellously attractive.” This description is correct even if it be
-applied to the impoverished island of Adony. Much as its once
-teeming population has dwindled, there are still thousands and
-thousands of birds. For long stretches of the forest every high
-tree bears nests, many having twenty or thirty, and all about these
-is the noisy bustle of sociable bird-life. Upon the nests sit the
-female rooks, common herons, night-herons, and cormorants, looking
-out with dark, sulphur-yellow, blood-red, and sea-green eyes upon
-the intruder who has invaded their sanctuary; sitting and climbing
-on the topmost boughs of the giant trees, or fluttering, flying,
-floating above them are black, brown, gray, one-coloured and
-many-coloured, dull and shimmering bird forms; above these, kites
-are circling; on the trunks woodpeckers are hanging, hard at work;
-sleek, gleaming white-throats are seeking their daily bread among
-the blossom of a pear-tree, finches and willow-wrens among the
-fresh foliage of the bird-cherry. The beautiful carpet of woodruff
-which covers the ground in many places is spattered and soiled
-with the excrement of birds, and disfigured by broken eggs or their
-shells, and by decomposing fish which have fallen from the nests.</p>
-
-<p>The first shot from the gun of our gracious patron caused an
-indescribable confusion. The startled herons rose screaming, and
-the rooks with stupefying croaking; the cormorants, too, forsook
-their nests with angry screeches. A cloud of birds formed over
-the forest, drifted hither and thither, up and down, became denser
-and overshadowed the tree-tops, broke up into groups which sank
-hesitatingly down towards their forsaken nests, enveloped these
-completely for a little, and then united again with the main mass.
-Every single one screamed, croaked, cawed, and screeched in the
-most ear-piercing fashion; everyone took to flight, but was drawn
-back again by anxiety for nest and eggs. The whole forest
-was in an uproar; yet, careless of the terrifying noise, the finch<span class="pagenum" id="Page_548">[Pg 548]</span>
-warbled its spring greeting amidst the trees, a woodpecker called
-joyously, the nightingales poured forth their inspiring melody,
-and poetic souls revealed themselves even among the thieves and
-robbers.</p>
-
-<p>Richly laden with booty, we returned, after five hours’ sport, to
-our comfortable quarters on board ship, and occupied ourselves as
-we steamed further with the scientific arrangement of our newly-acquired
-treasures. For hours we travelled through forests such
-as I have depicted, now and then passing by large or small hamlets,
-villages, and towns, until the gathering darkness forced us to moor
-our vessel. In the early dawn of the following morning we reached
-Apatin. The firing of cannon, music, and joyous acclamation greet
-the much-loved heir to the throne. People of all sorts throng about
-the boat; native hunting-assistants, nest-seekers, tree-climbers, and
-bird-skinners come on board; more than a dozen of the little boats
-called “Ezikela” are loaded. Then our steamer turns up stream
-again, to land us in the neighbourhood of a broad arm of the river.
-Up this we penetrated for the first time into the damp meadow-forests.
-All the little boats which had joined us in Apatin followed
-our larger one, like ducklings swimming after a mother duck.
-To-day the chase is directed solely against the sea eagle which
-broods so abundantly in these forests that no fewer than five eyries
-could be found within a radius of a square mile. We separated
-with the sportsman’s salute, to approach these eyries from different
-directions.</p>
-
-<p>I was well acquainted with these bold and rapacious, if rather
-ignoble birds of prey, for I had seen them in Norway and Lapland,
-in Siberia and in Egypt, but I had never observed them beside their
-eyries; and the opportunity of doing so was most welcome. As his
-name implies, the favourite habitat of the sea-eagle is by the sea-coasts,
-or on the banks of lakes and rivers rich in fish. If winter
-drives him from his haunts, he migrates as far southwards as is
-necessary to enable him to pick up a living during the cold months.
-In Hungary, this eagle is the commonest of all the large birds of
-prey; he does not forsake the country even in winter, and only
-makes long expeditions in his earlier years before maturity, as<span class="pagenum" id="Page_549">[Pg 549]</span>
-though he wished to try the experiment of living abroad. During
-spring, therefore, one sees in that district only adult, or what comes
-to the same thing, full-grown birds capable of reproduction, while
-in autumn and winter there are, in addition, the young ones which
-left the nest only a few months before. Then also many wanderers
-who have not settled down come to enliven the forest-shores of the
-Danube. As long as the river is not covered with ice, they have
-no difficulty in finding food; for they hunt in the water not less,
-perhaps rather more skilfully than on land. They circle over the
-water until they spy a fish, then throw themselves down upon it
-like a flash of lightning, dive after it, sometimes disappearing completely
-beneath the waves, but working their way quickly to the
-surface again by aid of their powerful wings, carry off their victim,
-whose scaly armour has been penetrated by their irresistible talons,
-and devour it at their leisure. As their depredations are not so
-severely condemned in Hungary as with us, and as they are treated
-generally with undeserved forbearance, they regularly frequent the
-neighbourhood of the fishermen’s huts, and sit among the trees close
-by until the fisherman throws them stale fish or any refuse which
-they can eat. Like the fishermen, the Hungarian, Servian, and Slav
-peasants help to provide them with food, for, instead of burying
-animals which have died, they let them lie exposed in the fields, and
-leave it to the eagles and the vultures, or to dogs and wolves, to
-remove the carrion. If a covering of ice protects his usual prey, and
-no carrion is available, the sea-eagle need not yet starve; for, like
-the nobler and more courageous golden eagle, he hunts all game
-which he has a chance of overpowering. He attacks the fox as well
-as the hare, the hedgehog and the rat, the diver and the wild goose,
-steals from the mother seal her sucking young, and may even carry
-his blind rapacity so far as to strike his powerful talons into the
-back of a dolphin or a sturgeon, by whom he is carried down into
-the sea and drowned before he can free his claws. Under some
-circumstances he will even attack human beings. Thus he need
-hardly ever suffer want; and as he is not systematically hunted, he
-leads quite an enviable life.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f85">
-<img src="images/fig85.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 81.&mdash;Sea-eagle and Nest in a Danube Forest.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Until near the breeding-time, the sea-eagle lives at peace with
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_550">[Pg 550]</span>his fellows; but, as that season approaches, he becomes combative
-and quarrelsome, in most cases through jealousy. For the sake of
-mate and eyrie, he wages bitter war with others of his species.
-An eagle pair, once united, remain so for life, but only if the male
-is able to protect his mate from the wooing of others, and to defend
-his own eyrie. A male eagle, which has just reached maturity and
-is exulting in the consciousness of his strength, casts his eyes<span class="pagenum" id="Page_551">[Pg 551]</span>
-longingly upon the mate and eyrie of another eagle, and both are
-lost to their owner if he allows himself to be vanquished in fight by
-the intruder. The rightful lord, therefore, fights to the death
-against everyone who attempts to disturb his marital and domestic
-happiness. The battle begins high in the air, but is often finished
-on the ground. With beak and claw, first one, then the other ventures
-an assault; at length one succeeds in getting a grip of his
-adversary, whose talons, in return, are promptly fixed in his rival’s
-body. Like balls of feathers, the two fall to the ground, or into the
-water, when both let go their hold, but only to renew the attack.
-When they fight on the ground, the rivals challenge one another
-like enraged cocks, and blood and feathers left behind show the
-scene of the battle and bear witness to its deadly seriousness. The
-female circles above the combatants or watches them from her high
-perch with seeming indifference, but she never fails to caress the
-conqueror, whether he be her lawful spouse or the new-comer.
-Woe to the eagle if he does not succeed in repulsing the intruder!
-In the eyes of the female, none but the strong deserves the
-fair.</p>
-
-<p>After successfully repelled attacks and fights of that kind, from
-which no eagle is exempt, and which are said to be repeated in
-Hungary every year, the pair, probably long wedded, take possession
-of the old eyrie, and begin, in February, to repair it. Both birds set
-to work to collect the necessary material, picking it up from the
-ground, or from the water, or breaking it off the trees, and carrying
-it in their talons, often for a long distance, to the nest, to rebuild and
-improve this as well as an eagle can. As this building up of the old
-nest takes place every year, it gradually grows to a considerable
-height, and one can tell from it the age of the birds, and may also
-guess the probable duration of their wedded life; for the oldest nest
-contains the oldest pair of eagles. The nest is not always placed
-among the highest branches of the tree, but is in all cases high above
-the ground, more or less near the trunk, and always on strong
-boughs which can bear its heavy and ever-increasing weight. Both
-upper and lower tiers consist of sticks and twigs laid loosely above
-and across one another; and many pairs of hedge-sparrows, which<span class="pagenum" id="Page_552">[Pg 552]</span>
-approach the mighty birds quite boldly and confidently, find among
-these twigs cavities suitable for nesting or hiding.</p>
-
-<p>Towards the end of February, or in the beginning of March, the
-female lays two, or at most three eggs in the shallow nest-cavity, and
-begins brooding assiduously. The male meantime supplies her with
-food, not, however, making longer expeditions in search of it than
-are absolutely necessary, but spending whatever time he can spare
-from the work of providing for her and himself, sitting, a faithful and
-attentive guardian, on a tree in the neighbourhood, which serves him
-at once as perch and sleeping-place. After about four weeks of
-brooding, the young emerge from the eggs, looking at first like soft
-balls of wool, from which dark eyes peer forth, and a dark bill and
-very sharp claws protrude. Even in their earliest youth the little
-creatures are as pretty as they are self-possessed. Now there is work
-enough for both father and mother. The two take turns in going
-forth to seek for prey, and in mounting guard over the little ones;
-but it is the mother who tends them. The father honestly performs
-his part in the rearing of the brood; but the mother alone is capable
-of giving them that care and attention which may be described as
-nursing. If she were torn from them in the first days of their life,
-they would perish as surely as young mammals robbed of their suckling
-mother. With her own breast the eagle-mother protects them
-from frost and snow; from her own crop she supplies them with
-warmed, softened, and partly-digested food. The eagle-father does
-not render such nursing services as these, but if the mother perish
-when the young are half-grown, he unhesitatingly takes upon himself
-the task of rearing and feeding them, and often performs it with
-the most self-sacrificing toil. The young eagles grow rapidly. In
-the third week of their existence the upper surface of the body is
-covered with feathers; towards the end of May they are full-grown
-and fully fledged. Then they leave the nest, to prepare, under the
-guidance of their parents, for the business of life.</p>
-
-<p>This is a picture, drawn with hasty strokes, of the life of the
-eagle, which, for the next few days, was the object of our expeditions.
-No fewer than nineteen inhabited eyries were visited by us with
-varying success. Now on foot, now in little boats, now jumping and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_553">[Pg 553]</span>
-wading, now creeping and gliding, we endeavoured, unseen and unheard,
-to approach the trees bearing the nests; for hours we crouched
-expectantly beneath them in huts hastily built with branches, gazing
-eagerly up at the eagles, which, startled by us or others, were wheeling
-and circling high in the air, and showing no inclination to
-return to their nests, but which we knew must return sometime, and
-would probably fall victims to us. We were able to observe them
-very accurately and fully, and this eagle-hunt gained, therefore, an
-indescribable charm for us all.</p>
-
-<p>Except for the eagles and other birds of prey which we secured,
-the forests, which looked so promising, proved, or at any rate seemed,
-to be poor in feathered inhabitants. Of course it was early in
-the year, and the stream of migration was still in full flood; nor did
-we succeed in investigating more than the outskirts of the forest.
-But even the number of birds which had returned and taken up
-their quarters on the outskirts of the forest did not come up to our
-expectations. And yet this apparent poverty disappointed me less
-than the lack of good songsters. The song-thrush did indeed pour
-forth its rich music through the woods fragrant with the breath of
-spring; here and there a nightingale sang; the finch warbled its
-spring greeting everywhere; and even a white-throat tried its notes,
-but none of these satisfied our critical ear. All who sang or warbled
-seemed merely bunglers, not masters. And at last we began to feel
-that real song did not belong to those dark woods at all, that
-the cries of eagles and falcons, the hooting of horned owls and
-screech-owls, the croaking of water-hens and terns, the shrill cry of
-herons and the laughter of woodpeckers, the cuckoos’ call and the
-cooing of stock-doves were the music best befitting them, and that,
-besides these, the only bird that had a right to sing was the sedge-warbler,
-who lived among the reeds and bulrushes, and who had
-borrowed most of his intricate song from the frogs.</p>
-
-<p>On the fourth day we hunted in the Keskender forest, a few miles
-from the banks of the Danube. As we left the forests on the river
-banks, we had to traverse a great plain bounded in the far distance
-by a chain of hills. Our route lay through well-cultivated fields
-belonging to the large estate of Bellye&mdash;a model of good management&mdash;and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_554">[Pg 554]</span>
-we made rapid progress on swift horses. Here and there
-marshy meadows, with pools and ditches, a little thicket, large farm-buildings
-surrounded by gnarled oaks, a hamlet, a village, but for
-the most part treeless fields; this was the character of the district
-through which we hastened. Larks innumerable rose singing from
-the fields; dainty water-wagtails tripped about the roads; shrikes
-and corn-buntings sat on every wayside hedge; brooding jackdaws
-and starlings bustled and clamoured about their nests in the crowns
-of the oaks; above the ponds ospreys were wheeling on the outlook
-for fish, and graceful terns skimmed along in zigzag flight; the lapwing
-busied itself in the marshes. Apart from these, we observed
-very few birds. Even the Keskender wood, a well-kept forest,
-which we reached after two hours’ riding, was poor in species,
-notwithstanding its varied character. There, however, were the
-nests of spotted-eagles and ospreys, short-toed eagles and common
-buzzards, falcons, owls, and, above all, black storks in surprising
-numbers, and our expedition was therefore successful beyond all
-expectation. And yet the foresters, who, in anticipation of the
-Crown Prince’s visit, had, only a few days before, searched the
-woods and noted the position of the various eyries on a hastily constructed
-map, did not know of nearly all the birds of prey and black
-storks nesting in the forest. “It is like Paradise here,” remarked
-the Crown Prince Rudolf, and these words accurately described the
-relations between men and animals in Hungary. Like the Oriental,
-the Hungarian is happily not possessed by the mania for killing
-which has caused the extreme shyness of the animals, and the painfully
-evident poverty of animal life in Western Europe; he does not
-grudge a home even to the bird of prey which settles on his land,
-and he does not make constant and cruel raids on the animal
-world, which lives and moves about him. Not even the low self-interest
-which at present prompts covetous feather-dealers to make
-yearly expeditions to the marshes of the lower Danube, and which
-sacrifices hundreds of thousands of happy and interesting bird-lives
-for the sake of their feathers, has had power to move the Magyar
-from his good old customs. It may be that indifference to the
-animal life around him has something to do with his hospitality;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_555">[Pg 555]</span>
-but the hospitality is there, and it has not yet given place to a
-thirst for persecution. Animals, and especially birds, remain quite
-confidently in the neighbourhood of men; they go about their own
-affairs quite unconcerned as to what men may be doing. The eagle
-has his eyrie by the roadside, the raven nests among the trees in
-the field, the black or wood stork is hardly more shy than the
-sacred house-stork; the deer does not rise from his lair when a
-carriage passes within rifle-range. Verily, it is like Paradise.</p>
-
-<p>But we found a state of paradise elsewhere than in the Keskender
-forest. After we had roamed through the forest in many directions,
-and had visited more than twenty eyries of buzzards and ospreys
-and black storks, and had refreshed and strengthened ourselves with
-an excellent breakfast provided for us, and still more with the
-delicious wine of the district, we set out on our return journey to
-the ship, urged to haste by threatening thunder-clouds, but still
-hunting and collecting as time and opportunity allowed. Our route
-was different from that which we had followed in coming to the
-forest; it was a good high-road connecting a number of villages.
-We passed through several of those, and again the road led us
-between houses. There was nothing remarkable about the buildings,
-but the people were stranger than my fancy could have pictured. The
-population of Dalyok consists almost solely of <i>Schokazen</i> or Catholic
-Servians, who migrated from the Balkan Peninsula, or were brought
-thither by the Turks, during the period of the Turkish supremacy.
-They are handsome, slender people these Schokazen, the men tall
-and strong, the women at least equal to the men, extremely well
-built and apparently rather pretty. We could form a definite
-opinion with regard to their figures, but, as far as their faces were
-concerned, we had to depend to some extent on our own imagination.
-For the Schokaz women wear a style of dress which will hardly be
-found elsewhere within the boundaries of Europe at the present
-day: a dress which our princely patron, happy as usual in his
-descriptions, called mythological. When I say that head and face
-were almost entirely enveloped in quaintly yet not unpicturesquely
-wound and knotted cloths, and that the skirt was replaced by two
-gaily-coloured apron-like pieces of cloth, not connected with each<span class="pagenum" id="Page_556">[Pg 556]</span>
-other, I may leave the rest to the most lively imagination without
-fearing that it will be likely to exceed the actual state of things.
-For my own part I was reminded of a camp of Arab nomad herdsmen
-which I had once seen in the primitive forests of Central
-Africa.</p>
-
-<p>At dusk, under pouring rain, we reached our comfortable vessel.
-Rain fell the following morning also, the whole day was gloomy,
-and our expedition was proportionately disappointing. All this
-impelled us to continue our journey, though we look back gratefully
-on those pleasant days on the Bellye estate, and though it would
-have been well worth while to have observed and collected there a
-few days longer. With warm and well-earned words of praise the
-Crown Prince bade farewell to the officials on the archducal estate;
-one glance more at the woods which had offered us so much, and our
-swift little vessel steams down the Danube again. After a few
-hours we reach Draueck, the mouth of the river Drau, which thenceforward
-seems to determine the direction of the Danube bed. One
-of the grandest river pictures I have ever seen presented itself to our
-gaze. A vast sheet of water spread out before us; towards the
-south it is bounded by smiling hills, on all the other sides by
-forests, such as we had already seen. Neither the course of the
-main stream nor the bed of its tributary could be made out; the
-whole enormous sheet of water was like an inclosed lake whose
-banks were only visible at the chain of hills above mentioned; for
-through the green vistas of the forest one saw more water, thickets,
-and reed-beds, these last covering the great marsh of Hullo, which
-stretches out in apparently endless extent. Giant tree-trunks,
-carried down by both streams, and only partly submerged, assumed
-the most fantastic shapes; it seemed as if fabled creatures of the
-primitive world reared their scaly bodies above the dark flood.
-For the “blonde” Danube looked dark, almost black, as we sped
-through the Draueck. Grayish-black and dark-blue thunder-clouds
-hung in the heavens, apparently also amidst the hundred-toned
-green of the forests, and over the unvarying faded yellow of the
-reed-beds; flashes of lightning illumined the whole picture vividly;
-the rain splashed down; the thunder rolled; the wind howled<span class="pagenum" id="Page_557">[Pg 557]</span>
-through the tops of the tall old trees, lashed up the surface of the
-water, and crowned the dark crests of the waves with gray-white
-foam; but away in the south-east the sun had broken through the
-dark clouds, edged them with purple and gold, illumined them so
-that the black shadows grew yet blacker, and shone brightly down
-on the smiling hills, which lead up to a mountain range far away on
-the horizon. Below and beyond us lay hamlets and villages, but,
-where we were, at most a cone-shaped, reed-covered fisher-hut broke
-the primeval character of the magnificent scene, which, in its wildness
-and in the weird effect of the momentary flashes of light, was
-sublime beyond description.</p>
-
-<p>The scarcity of birds was striking, as indeed was the desolateness
-of the whole sheet of water. Not a gull floated over the mirror of
-the Danube, not a tern winged its zigzag flight up and down; at
-most a few drakes rose from the river. Now and then a common
-heron, a flight of night-herons, an erne, and a few kites, hooded
-crows and ravens, perhaps also a flock of lapwings, and the list of
-birds which one usually sees is exhausted.</p>
-
-<p>From the following day onwards we hunted and explored a
-wonderful district. The blue mountains, upon which lay bright,
-golden sunlight during the thunder-storm of the previous day, are
-the heights of Fruskagora, a wooded hill range of the most delightful
-kind. Count Rudolf Chotek had prepared everything for the fitting
-reception of our Prince, and thus we enjoyed several days which
-can never be forgotten. From the village of Čerewič, on the upper
-side of which our vessel lay, we drove daily through the gorges,
-climbed the heights on foot or on horseback, to return homewards
-each evening delighted and invigorated. The golden May-tide
-refreshed heart and soul, and our host’s untiring attention, complaisance,
-courtesy, and kindness went far to make the days passed
-at Fruskagora the pleasantest and most valuable part of our whole
-journey.</p>
-
-<p>It was a charming district, about which we roamed every day.
-Around the village was a range of fields; beyond these a girdle of
-vineyards which reach to the very edge of the forest; in the valleys
-and gorges between them the innumerable fruit trees were laden<span class="pagenum" id="Page_558">[Pg 558]</span>
-with fragrant blossom, which brightened the whole landscape; on
-the banks, beside the road which usually led through the valleys,
-there was a dense growth of bushes, and the refreshing charm of
-the wealth of blossom was enhanced by the murmuring brooks
-and trickling runlets of water. From the first heights we reached
-the view was surprisingly beautiful. In the foreground lay the
-picturesque village of Čerewič; then the broad Danube, with its
-meadow-forests on the opposite shore; behind these stretched the
-boundless Hungarian plain, exhibiting to the spectator its fields
-and meadows, woods and marshes, villages and market towns in an
-unsteady, changeful light, which gave them a peculiar charm; in
-the east lay the stronghold of Peterwardein. Larks rose singing
-from the fields; the nightingale poured forth its tuneful lay from
-the bushes; the cheery song of the rock-thrush rang down from the
-vineyards; and two species of vulture and three kinds of eagle were
-describing great circles high in the air.</p>
-
-<p>When we had gone a little farther we lost sight of river, villages,
-and fields, and entered one of the secluded forest-valleys. The
-sides of the mountain rise precipitously from it, and, like the ridges
-and slopes, they are densely wooded, though the trees are not very
-tall. Oaks and limes, elms and maples predominate in some places,
-copper-beeches and hornbeams in others; thick, low bushes, which
-shelter many a pair of nightingales, are scattered about the outskirts
-of the forest. No magnificent far-reaching views reward the
-traveller who climbs to the highest ridge to see Hungary lying to
-the north, and Servia to the south; but the mysterious darkness of
-the forest soothes soul and sense. From the main ridge, which is
-at most 3000 feet in height, many chains branch off on either side
-almost at right angles, and have a fine effect from whatever side
-one looks at them. Among them are valleys or enclosed basins
-whose steep walls make transport of felled wood impossible, and
-which therefore display all the natural luxuriance of forest growth.
-Gigantic beeches, with straight trunks smooth up to the spreading
-crown, rise from amid mouldering leaves in which the huntsman
-sinks to the knee; gnarled oaks raise their rugged heads into the
-air as if to invite the birds of prey to nest there; dome-like limes<span class="pagenum" id="Page_559">[Pg 559]</span>
-form such a close roof of leaves, that only a much-broken reflection
-of the sun’s rays trembles on the ground. In addition to the nightingale,
-which is everywhere abundant, the songsters of this forest
-are the song-thrush and blackbird, golden oriole and red-breast,
-chaffinch and wood-wren; the cuckoo calls its spring greeting from
-hill to hill; black and green woodpeckers, nut-hatches and titmice,
-ring-doves and stock-doves may be heard in all directions.</p>
-
-<p>We had come here chiefly to hunt the largest European bird
-of prey, the black vulture, Fruskagora being apparently the
-northern boundary of its breeding region. The other large
-European vulture had recently appeared in the district, probably
-attracted by the unfortunate victims of the Servian war, and both
-species brooded here protected by the lord of the estate, who was
-an enthusiastic naturalist. I was already acquainted with both
-these species of vulture, for I had seen them on former journeys,
-but it was a great pleasure to me to observe them in their brooding-place,
-and hear the reports of my fellow-sportsmen and of Count
-Chotek; for on this expedition also our main desire was to increase
-our knowledge of animal life. Here again we were able to make a
-long series of observations, and many aspects of the life of both
-these giant birds, which had hitherto been obscure to us all, were
-cleared up and explained by our investigations.</p>
-
-<p>The crested black vulture, whose range of distribution is not
-confined to the three southern peninsulas of Europe, but extends
-also through West and Central Asia, to India and China, is resident
-in Fruskagora, but after the brooding season he frequently
-makes long expeditions, which bring him regularly to Northern
-Hungary, and frequently to Moravia, Bohemia, and Silesia. His
-powerful wings enable him to undertake such expeditions without
-the slightest difficulty. Unfettered by eggs or helpless young, he
-flies early in the morning from the tree on which he has passed the
-night, ascends spirally to a height to which the human eye unaided
-cannot follow him, then with his incomparably keen, mobile eye,
-whose focal distance can be rapidly altered, he scans the horizon,
-detects unfailingly even small carrion, and alights to devour and
-digest it, or to store it in his crop. After feeding he returns to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_560">[Pg 560]</span>
-his accustomed place, or continues his pathless journeying. Not
-only does he carefully scan the land lying beneath him, perhaps
-for many square miles, but he keeps watch on the movements
-of others of his species, or of any large carrion-eating birds, that
-he may profit by their discoveries. Thus only can we explain
-the sudden and simultaneous appearance of several, or even many
-vultures beside a large carcass, even in a region not usually inhabited
-by these birds. They are guided in their search for prey, not by
-their sense of smell, which is dull, but by sight. One flies after
-another when he sees that he has discovered carrion, and his swiftness
-of flight is so great that he can usually be in time to share the
-feast, if he sees the finder circling above his booty. Certainly he
-must lose no time, for it is not for nothing that he and his kin are
-called “<i>geier</i>”; their greed beggars description. Within a few
-minutes three or four vultures will stow away the carcass of a sheep
-or a dog in their crops, leaving only the most trifling remains; the
-meal-time therefore passes with incredible rapidity, and whoever
-arrives late on the scene is doomed to disappointment.</p>
-
-<p>The country round Fruskagora yields a good deal more to the
-vultures than an occasional feast of carrion, for in the stomachs of
-those which we shot and dissected we found remains of souslik and
-large lizards, which are scarcely likely to have been found dead, but
-were more probably seized and killed.</p>
-
-<p>On account of the northerly situation of Fruskagora, and the
-well-ordered state of the surrounding country, which is not very
-favourable to vultures, the black vultures were still brooding
-during our visit, though others of the same species, whose haunts
-were farther south, must undoubtedly have had young birds by that
-time. The eyries were placed in the tallest trees, and most of them
-on the uppermost third of the mountain side. Many were quite
-well known to Count Chotek and his game-keepers, for they had
-been occupied as a brooding-place by a pair of vultures, possibly the
-same pair, for at least twenty years, and as they had been added to
-each year they had assumed very considerable proportions. Others
-seemed of more recent origin, but all were apparently the work of
-the vultures themselves. In the oldest and largest of them, a full-grown<span class="pagenum" id="Page_561">[Pg 561]</span>
-man could have reclined without his head or feet being seen
-projecting over the edge.</p>
-
-<p>Under these eyries we sat watching, listening to the life and
-bustle of the woods, and waiting in the hope of getting a shot at
-the vultures which our approach had scared away. For four days
-we went to the splendid woods every morning, and never did we
-return to our vessel empty-handed. No fewer than eight large
-vultures, several eagles, and numerous smaller birds fell to our
-guns, while valuable observations, which fascinated us all, added
-zest and interest to our sport. But when the last rays of the sun
-had disappeared, the younger portion of the population assembled
-about our ship. Violin and bagpipes joined in a wonderful but
-simple melody, and youths and maidens danced the rhythmically
-undulating national round dances in honour of their august guest.</p>
-
-<p>After we had hunted successfully on both sides of the Danube,
-we took leave, on the fifth day after our arrival in Čerewič, of our
-most devoted host, the lord of the estates, and continued our journey
-down the river. In three-quarters of an hour we passed Peterwardein,
-a small, antiquated, but picturesquely situated stronghold,
-and an hour and a half later, we reached Carlowitz, near which we
-spent the night. The next morning we reached Kovil, the goal of
-our journey.</p>
-
-<p>In the neighbourhood of this large village, and girdled by cultivated
-fields, there are woods in which the oak predominates, but
-which have such a dense undergrowth, that notwithstanding the
-many villages about, the wolves and wild-cats lead a threatening
-but scarcely threatened existence in them. It is not to be wondered
-at, therefore, that birds of prey of all kinds, especially sea-eagles,
-imperial eagles, spotted eagles, and booted eagles, “short-toed eagles”,
-kites, hawks, horned and other owls should have chosen them as a
-nesting-place, and that they should also harbour all kinds of small
-birds. Sure of rich booty the Crown Prince and his brother-in-law
-directed their steps to these woods, while Eugen von Homeyer and
-I tried our luck up-stream beyond the village, in a marsh which the
-flood, then at its height, had transformed into a great lake.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="f86">
-<img src="images/fig86.jpg" alt="" />
-<p class="caption">Fig. 82.&mdash;Nest of the Penduline Titmouse (<i>Parus pendulinus</i>).</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>A surprisingly rich and varied life reigned in this marsh,
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_562">[Pg 562]</span>though only a very small fraction of the feathered population
-could be seen, and indeed the tide of migration was still in full
-flood. Great flocks of black terns flew in almost unbroken
-succession up the river, sometimes assembling in compact swarms,
-sometimes distributing themselves over the whole breadth of the
-flooded Danube; hundreds of glossy or dark ibises wandered up
-and down the stream, flying in the usual wedge-shaped order<span class="pagenum" id="Page_563">[Pg 563]</span>
-towards or away from the neighbouring river Theiss, apparently
-still in search of suitable nesting-places; purple herons, common
-herons, and squacco herons strode about fishing in all accessible
-parts of the great expanse of water; marsh-barriers flew along
-their accustomed routes carrying long reed-stalks to their nests;
-ducks, mating a second time because the flood had robbed them of
-their eggs, rose noisily from the water on the approach of our small
-flat boat, while grebes and dabchicks dived for safety&mdash;in short,
-every part of the vast expanse was peopled. A forester well
-acquainted with all the paths through the submerged wood, awaited
-us in a house which rose above the flood like an island, and acted
-as our guide through a forest-wilderness which far surpassed all
-that we had hitherto seen, for the water had added new obstacles
-to those always present. Brushing past many branches which
-must usually be high above the ground, often stooping beneath
-boughs which blocked our way, we attempted to find a route
-between half or wholly fallen trees, logs, and drift-wood, and to
-penetrate to the heart of the forest. Brooding mallards, whose
-nests in the tops of the willows had been spared by the flood, did
-not rise on our approach, even though we glided by within a yard
-of them. Eared grebes, which were out on the open water, when
-they saw us, swam sideways into the green thicket of tree-crowns,
-chiefly willows, which rose just above the surface; water-wagtails
-ran from one piece of drift-wood to another; spotted woodpeckers
-and nut-hatches clung to the tree-trunks close to the water, and
-searched for food as usual. One picture of bird-life crowded
-upon another; but all seemed unfamiliar, because altered by the
-prevailing conditions. To reach a sea-eagle’s eyrie we were
-obliged to wade a long distance; to visit a raven’s nest we had to
-make a wide détour. Hunting in the approved fashion was
-impossible under such circumstances, but our expedition rewarded
-us richly. To me personally it afforded the pleasure of seeing one
-of the best of the feathered architects of Europe, the penduline
-titmouse, at work on its nest, and of observing for the first time
-its life and habits.<a id="FNanchor_89" href="#Footnote_89" class="fnanchor">[88]</a></p>
-
-<p>The following day our whole company assembled in one of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_564">[Pg 564]</span>
-woods already mentioned. A Hungarian forester had made preparations
-for a wolf-drive on a grand scale, but had arranged it so
-unskilfully that Friend Isegrim succeeded in slipping away unperceived.
-The unpromising chase was therefore soon abandoned,
-and the short time which remained to us was devoted to more profitable
-observation of the bird-life in the forest.</p>
-
-<p>In the course of the same afternoon we left Kovil, reached
-Peterwardein the same evening, steamed past Fruskagora early in
-the night, left the vessel once more the following day to hunt in
-the marsh of Hullo, saw there the noble heron which we had until
-then sought for in vain, but were obliged to hurry onwards so as
-not to miss the fast train for Vienna. Gratefully looking back on
-the days we had spent, and lamenting the swiftness with which
-they had sped, we steamed rapidly past all the river forests,
-which had afforded us so much enjoyment, and, with the ardent
-wish that we might some day return to spend a longer time in it,
-we took leave of this rich and unique country.</p>
-<hr class="full x-ebookmaker-drop" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_565">[Pg 565]</span></p>
-
-<p class="ph2 sp">NOTES BY THE EDITOR.</p>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="r5" />
-
-<p class="c sp" id="n1">THE BIRD-BERGS OF LAPLAND.</p>
-
-<p>For other pictures of Arctic Natural History the reader may profitably
-consult the following works:&mdash;</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-
-<p>Collett, R. <i>Bird Life in Arctic Norway.</i> Trans. by A. H. Cocks (London,
-1894).</p>
-
-<p>Nordenskiöld, A. E. <i>The Voyage of the “Vega” Round Asia and Europe</i>,
-with a Historical Review of Previous Journeys along the North Coast
-of the Old World (Trans. by A. Leslie, 2 vols., London, 1881).</p>
-
-<p>Gilder, W. H. <i>Ice-Pack and Tundra</i>, an Account of the Search for the
-<i>Jeanette</i>, and a Sledge Journey through Siberia (8vo, London, 1883.
-Chiefly personal, not scientific).</p>
-
-<p>Hovgaard, A. <i>Nordenskiöld’s Voyage Round Asia and Europe</i>, a Popular
-Account of the North-east Passage of the <i>Vega</i>, 1878-80 (Trans. by
-H. L. Brækstad, 8vo, London, 1882).</p>
-
-<p>Pennant’s <i>Arctic Zoology</i> (1785).</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_3" href="#FNanchor_3" class="label">[Note 1]</a> p. 38.&mdash;<i>Dense masses of fish.</i></p>
-
-<p>I have consulted a Scandinavian pisciculturist, who, while not corroborating
-the occurrence of such vast multitudes, admitted the periodic
-appearance of dense local swarms, such as are sometimes seen in the lochs
-in the west of Scotland.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_4" href="#FNanchor_4" class="label">[Note 2]</a> p. 45.&mdash;<i>The female eider-duck plucking the male.</i></p>
-
-<p>The popular story of the male eider being made to furnish down for
-the nest, after the mother-bird’s supply is exhausted, must, we fear, be
-regarded as a misstatement. See Newton’s <i>Dictionary of Birds</i> (London,
-1893), and other authoritative works on ornithology. Perhaps the story
-has some basis in the fact that for a short time after the breeding season
-the males undergo a change of plumage, becoming less decorative and
-more like the females.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_5" href="#FNanchor_5" class="label">[Note 3]</a> p. 48.&mdash;<i>Economic value of eider-down.</i></p>
-
-<p>According to Stejneger, each nest yields about an ounce and a third.
-From Greenland and Iceland alone, six thousand pounds, or the contents
-of seventy-two thousand nests, are yearly exported. Nordenskiöld notes
-that the quantity of eider-down brought from the polar lands to Tromsöe<span class="pagenum" id="Page_566">[Pg 566]</span>
-amounted in 1868 to 540 kilogrammes, in 1869 to 963, in 1870 to 882, in
-1871 to 630, in 1872 to 306, and that the total annual yield may be probably
-estimated at three times as much.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_6" href="#FNanchor_6" class="label">[Note 4]</a> p. 57.&mdash;<i>Auks.</i></p>
-
-<p>A graphic description of the King-auks (<i>Alle alle</i>), which breed in
-Spitzbergen, is given by Nordenskiöld in the work above mentioned.</p>
-
-<p>The name auk is oftenest applied only to the razor-bills, but is also used
-collectively for other members of the family Alcidæ, such as guillemots
-and puffins.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_7" href="#FNanchor_7" class="label">[Note 5]</a> p. 59.&mdash;<i>Altrices and Præcoces.</i></p>
-
-<p>Altrices or nidicolæ are those birds which are more or less helpless
-when hatched. They are often blind and naked, and unable to leave the
-nest. The food-yolk has been mostly or wholly used up before birth, and
-the young depend on what their parents bring them. Examples are
-doves, hawks, and passerine birds.</p>
-
-<p>Præcoces or nidifugæ are those birds which are more or less able to run
-about when hatched. They are born with their eyes open, with a covering
-of down, and with much of their yolk still unused. Examples are running
-birds, fowl, gulls, and ducks.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-
-<p class="c sp p2" id="n2">THE TUNDRA AND ITS ANIMAL LIFE.</p>
-
-<p>In addition to Nordenskiöld’s voyage, and other works already cited, the
-following may be consulted by those who wish to amplify their picture of the
-Tundra and its life:&mdash;</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-
-<p>Seebohm. <i>Siberia in Asia</i> (1882).</p>
-
-<p>Jackson, F. G. <i>The Great Frozen Land</i> (Bolshaia Zemelskija Tundra).
-Narrative of a winter journey across the Tundras and a sojourn among
-the Samoyedes (ed. from the author’s journal by A. Montefiore, 8vo,
-London, 1895).</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_8" href="#FNanchor_8" class="label">[Note 6]</a> pp. 63 and 71.&mdash;<i>The Tundra.</i></p>
-<p><a id="Footnote_8a" href="#FNanchor_8a" class="label">[Note 7]</a> pp. 63 and 71.&mdash;<i>The Tundra.</i></p>
-
-<p>With Brehm’s picture of the Tundra, it is interesting to compare that
-given by Mr. Seebohm in his address to the Geographical Section of the
-British Association at Nottingham, 1893. (<i>Scottish Geogr. Magazine</i>, ix.
-(1893), pp. 505-23, with map.)</p>
-
-<p>“In exposed situations, especially in the higher latitudes, the tundra
-does really merit its American name of Barren Ground, being little else
-than gravel beds interspersed with bare patches of peat or clay, and with
-scarcely a rush or a sedge to break the monotony. In Siberia, at least,
-this is very exceptional. By far the greater part of the tundra, both east
-and west of the Ural Mountains, is a gently undulating plain, full of lakes,
-rivers, swamps, and bogs. The lakes are diversified with patches of green
-water plants, amongst which ducks and swans float and dive; the little
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_567">[Pg 567]</span>rivers flow between banks of rush and sedge; the swamps are masses of
-tall rushes and sedges of various species, where phalaropes and ruffs breed,
-and the bogs are brilliant with the white fluffy seeds of the cotton-grass.
-The groundwork of all this variegated scenery is more beautiful and varied
-still&mdash;lichens and moss of almost every conceivable colour, from the cream-coloured
-reindeer-moss to the scarlet-cupped trumpet-moss, interspersed
-with a brilliant alpine flora, gentians, anemones, saxifrages, and hundreds
-of plants, each a picture in itself, the tall aconites, both the blue and
-yellow species, the beautiful cloudberry, with its gay white blossom and
-amber fruit, the flagrant <i>Ledum palustre</i> and the delicate pink <i>Andromeda
-polifolia</i>. In the sheltered valleys and deep water-courses a few stunted
-birches, and sometimes large patches of willow scrub, survive the long
-severe winter, and serve as cover for willow-grouse or ptarmigan. The
-Lapland bunting and red-throated pipit are everywhere to be seen, and
-certain favoured places are the breeding grounds of plovers and sandpipers
-of many species. So far from meriting the name of Barren Ground, the
-tundra is for the most part a veritable paradise in summer. But it has
-one almost fatal drawback&mdash;it swarms with millions of mosquitoes.”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_9" href="#FNanchor_9" class="label">[Note 8]</a> p. 72.&mdash;<i>The Mammoth.</i></p>
-
-<p>The Mammoth (<i>Elephas primigenius</i>) was a near relative of the Indian
-elephant, if not indeed a variety of the same species. One of its characteristics
-was a woolly covering of brownish hair, rudimentary traces of
-which have been found in the Indian species.</p>
-
-<p>It was abundant in Europe before the glacial epoch, and seems to have
-been especially common in Siberia. Lydekker’s <i>Royal Natural History</i>
-gives a good account of the finding of the mammoth, and the striking fact
-is noticed that the imports of fossil ivory into England prove that, within
-a period of twenty years, over 20,000 mammoths must have been discovered.</p>
-
-<p>As Brehm describes, the carcasses are found frozen in the soil, to all
-appearance just as the animals died, but the explanation of this is obscure.
-The particular case to which he alludes was one of the earliest finds&mdash;by
-Adams in 1806. Before Adams reached the carcass, which had been
-known for some years, the dogs of the yakuts had eaten most of the flesh.</p>
-
-<p>See also Vogt’s <i>Natural History of Mammals</i>.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_10" href="#FNanchor_10" class="label">[Note 9]</a> p. 73.&mdash;<i>Colour of the Arctic Fox.</i></p>
-
-<p>On the interesting question of the winter colour-change, Mr. Poulton’s
-<i>Colours of Animals</i> and Mr. Beddard’s <i>Animal Coloration</i> should be consulted.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_11" href="#FNanchor_11" class="label">[Note 10]</a> p. 75.&mdash;<i>Reindeer devouring Lemming.</i></p>
-
-<p>With reference to Brehm’s statement as to reindeer eating lemming, I
-may note a report on creditable authority that in the hard winter 1894-5
-stags in Aberdeenshire were known to have eaten rabbits.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_568">[Pg 568]</span></p>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_12" href="#FNanchor_12" class="label">[Note 11]</a> p. 76.&mdash;<i>Migration of the Lemming.</i></p>
-
-<p>A careful discussion of the strange migratory instinct of the lemming
-will be found in the late Mr. Romanes’s <i>Mental Evolution in Animals</i>.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_13" href="#FNanchor_13" class="label">[Note 12]</a> p. 77.&mdash;<i>Food of the Reindeer.</i></p>
-
-<p>Though the reindeer may eat grasses and aquatic plants, its great
-resource is the so-called reindeer-moss, which is really a lichen, common on
-the mountain heights of the interior where the herds pass the winter.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_14" href="#FNanchor_14" class="label">[Note 13]</a> p. 80.&mdash;<i>The Phalarope.</i></p>
-
-<p>Of the Grey Phalarope (<i>Phalaropus fulicarius</i>) and the Red-necked
-Phalarope (<i>Phalaropus hyperboreus</i>), both occurring in Britain, Professor
-Newton says: “A more entrancing sight to the ornithologist can hardly
-be presented than by either of these species. Their graceful form, their
-lively coloration, and the confidence with which both are familiarly displayed
-in their breeding-quarters, can hardly be exaggerated, and it is
-equally a delightful sight to watch the birds gathering their food in the
-high&mdash;running surf, or, when that is done, peacefully floating outside the
-breakers.” See also Collett’s <i>Bird Life in Arctic Norway</i>.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_15" href="#FNanchor_15" class="label">[Note 14]</a> p. 84.&mdash;<i>Sense of smell and touch.</i></p>
-
-<p>The somewhat mysterious reference which Brehm makes to a sense
-between smell and touch is thoroughly justifiable. To the senses of many
-of the lower animals&mdash;and even of fishes&mdash;it is exceedingly difficult to
-apply our fairly definite human conceptions of smell, taste, touch, &amp;c.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_16" href="#FNanchor_16" class="label">[Note 15]</a> p. 85.&mdash;<i>Mosquitoes.</i></p>
-
-<p>This general term covers a large number of species belonging to the
-gnat genus (<i>Culex</i>). They are very various in size, and are widely distributed
-from the Tropics to the Poles. Their larvæ are aquatic, and for
-their abundance the tundra obviously offers every opportunity.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-
-<p class="c sp p2" id="n3">THE ASIATIC STEPPES AND THEIR FAUNA.</p>
-
-<p>See&mdash;</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-
-<p>Bovalet, G. <i>Through the Heart of Asia</i> (trans. by C. B. Pitman, 2 vols,
-London, 1889).</p>
-
-<p>Jackson, F. G. <i>The Great Frozen Land</i>, cited above.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_17" href="#FNanchor_17" class="label">[Note 16]</a> p. 91.&mdash;<i>Flora of the steppe.</i></p>
-
-<p>According to Seebohm (<i>op. cit.</i>), “The cause of the treeless condition of
-the steppes or prairies has given rise to much controversy. My own experience
-in Siberia convinced me that the forests were rocky, and the steppes
-covered with a deep layer of loose earth, and I came to the conclusion that
-on the rocky ground the roots of the trees were able to establish themselves
-firmly, so as to defy the strongest gales, which tore them up when they were
-planted in loose soil. Other travellers have formed other opinions. Some
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_569">[Pg 569]</span>suppose that the prairies were once covered with trees, which have been
-gradually destroyed by fires. Others suggest that the earth on the treeless
-plains contains too much salt or too little organic matter to be favourable to
-the growth of trees. No one, so far as I know, has suggested a climatic explanation
-of the circumstances. Want of drainage may produce a swamp,
-and the deficiency of rainfall may cause a desert, both conditions being
-fatal to forest growth, but no one can mistake either of these treeless
-districts for a steppe or a prairie.” See also for general description of
-steppe vegetation Kerner’s <i>Plant Life</i> and Wiesner’s <i>Biologic der Pflanzen</i>.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_18" href="#FNanchor_18" class="label">[Note 17]</a> p. 97.&mdash;<i>The Quagga.</i></p>
-
-<p>The true quagga (<i>Equus quagga</i>), intermediate between zebras and
-asses, is no longer known to exist, though it was described by Sir Cornwallis
-Harris in 1839 as occurring in immense herds. The name quagga
-is given by the Boers to Burchell’s zebra (<i>Equus burchelli</i>).</p>
-
-<p>The same sad fact of approaching extermination must be noted in regard
-to not a few noble animals, <i>e.g.</i> rhinoceros, hippopotamus, and giraffe.</p>
-
-<p>Selous writes in 1893: “To the best of my belief, the great white or
-square-mouthed rhinoceros (<i>Rhinoceros simus</i>), the largest of modern terrestrial
-mammals after the elephant, will, in the course of the next few
-years, become absolutely extinct. Yet, twenty years ago, it was a common
-animal over an enormous extent of country in Central South Africa.</p>
-
-<p>“Never again will the traveller be able to stand upon his wagon-box,
-and, like Burchell, Andrew Smith, Cornwallis Harris, and Gordon Cumming,
-scan plains literally darkened by thousands upon thousands of wildebeests,
-quaggas, Burchell’s zebras, blesboks, hartebeests, and spring-boks.”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_19" href="#FNanchor_19" class="label">[Note 18]</a> p. 97.&mdash;<i>The Buffalo.</i></p>
-
-<p>The American bison or buffalo (<i>Bos americanus</i>) is now practically
-exterminated.</p>
-
-<p>Two sentences from <i>An Introduction to the Study of Mammals</i>, by Sir
-W. H. Flower and Mr. R. Lydekker (London, 1891), put the case in a
-nutshell.</p>
-
-<p>“The multitudes in which the American bison formerly existed are
-almost incredible; the prairies being absolutely black with them as far as
-the eye could reach, the numbers in the herds being reckoned by millions.”</p>
-
-<p>With the completion of the Kansas Branch of the Pacific Railway in
-1871, the extraordinarily careless and ruthless slaughter began. In less
-than ten years bison-shooting ceased to be profitable.</p>
-
-<p>And now, “A herd of some two hundred wild individuals derived from
-the northern herd is preserved in the Yellowstone National Park; and
-it is believed that some five hundred of the race, known as Wood-Bison,
-exist in British territory; <i>but with these exceptions this magnificent species
-is exterminated</i>”.</p>
-
-<p>A vivid account of the buffalo’s habits and of its rapid tragic extermination
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_570">[Pg 570]</span>will be found in Mr. Grinell’s essay “In Buffalo Days” in <i>American
-Big-Game Hunting</i> (Boone and Crockett Club), edited by Th. Roosevelt
-and G. B. Grinell, Edinburgh, 1893.</p>
-
-<p>See also Hornaday, <i>The Extirpation of the American Bison</i>, 1889, and a
-monograph by J. A. Allen, “The American Bisons, Living and Extinct”:
-<i>Memoirs of the Museum of Comparative Zoology</i>, Harvard, vol. iv., 1876.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_20" href="#FNanchor_20" class="label">[Note 19]</a> p. 102.&mdash;<i>Fighting-ruffs.</i></p>
-
-<p>The ruff (<i>Machetes pugnax</i>) is in many ways a most interesting bird.
-Thus, there is the rapid change of plumage, as the result of which the male
-acquires his characteristic frill or ruff before the breeding season. The
-indefatigable pugnacity of the males, the efficacy of their shield, their
-assiduous polygamous courtship, their subsequent carelessness as to the
-fate of the reeve and her young, and their extraordinary “polymorphism”,
-are very remarkable. While the individual peculiarities of plumage are
-very marked, each ruff is true season after season to its own idiosyncrasy.
-Visitors to the National Museum of Natural History in London will
-remember a beautiful case of ruffs in the Entrance Hall.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_21" href="#FNanchor_21" class="label">[Note 20]</a> p. 103.&mdash;<i>Sky-goat.</i></p>
-
-<p>Bleating of snipe. There has been much discussion as to the origin of
-the peculiar drumming or bleating sound made by the snipe, to which it
-owes its Scotch name of “heather-bleater”, but many at least agree with
-Brehm.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_22" href="#FNanchor_22" class="label">[Note 21]</a> p. 106.&mdash;<i>Sand-grouse.</i></p>
-
-<p>Sand-grouse (<i>Pterocles</i> and <i>Syrrhaptes</i>), a group of birds quite distinct
-from the grouse. One species, <i>Syrrhaptes paradoxus</i>, “ranging from
-Northern China across Central Asia to the confines of Europe”, has shown
-a tendency to extensive migration, visiting Britain, for instance, in 1859,
-1863, 1872, 1876, and abundantly in 1888. For a concise account of these
-irregular invasions see Newton’s <i>Dictionary of Birds</i>.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_23" href="#FNanchor_23" class="label">[Note 22]</a> p. 107.&mdash;<i>Yurt.</i></p>
-
-<p>According to Radloff “jurte” or “yurt” is a general name for a more
-or less transportable rough hut made of stakes, felt, bark, and the like,
-varying slightly in construction in different districts. The ring to which
-Brehm here refers is probably that through which the upper ends of the
-converging stakes are thrust.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_24" href="#FNanchor_24" class="label">[Note 23]</a> p. 109.&mdash;<i>The Jerboa.</i></p>
-
-<p>The rodent here referred to is the Kirghiz jerboa (<i>Alactaga decumana</i>).
-What Brehm says as to its eating eggs and young birds is confirmed by
-others.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_25" href="#FNanchor_25" class="label">[Note 24]</a> p. 115.&mdash;<i>The Sand-grouse or Steppe-grouse.</i></p>
-
-<p>Pallas’s Sand-grouse (<i>Syrrhaptes paradoxus</i>), see note 21.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_571">[Pg 571]</span></p>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_26" href="#FNanchor_26" class="label">[Note 25]</a> p. 115&mdash;<i>Ancestry of the horse.</i></p>
-
-<p>See Sir W. H. Flower’s little book on <i>The Horse</i> (Modern Science
-Series). The kulan or kiang is rather a wild ass than a wild horse, and
-the balance of evidence in favour of regarding the Tarpan as in the line
-of ancestry is greater than Brehm indicates. Flower suggests that Przewalski’s
-horse, discovered some years ago in Central Asia, and looked upon
-as a distinct species, may be a hybrid between the kiang and the tarpan.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_27" href="#FNanchor_27" class="label">[Note 26]</a> p. 116.&mdash;<i>Ancestors of the cat and the goat.</i></p>
-
-<p>It is very generally believed that our domestic cat is descended from
-the sacred Egyptian or Caffre cat (<i>Felis caffra</i>). See St. George Mivart’s
-monograph on the cat. Similarly, the breeds of domestic goat are often
-referred to the Pasang or <i>Capra ægagrus</i>, found in Crete, Asia Minor,
-Persia, &amp;c. See a vivid essay by Buxton in his <i>Short Stalks</i>, entitled “The
-Father of all the Goats”.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_28" href="#FNanchor_28" class="label">[Note 27]</a> p. 116.&mdash;<i>Wild camels.</i></p>
-
-<p>An interesting note on wild camels in Spain&mdash;a strayed herd&mdash;is to be
-found in <i>Wild Spain</i> by Chapman and Buck. St. George Littledale has
-recently discussed (<i>Proc. Zoological Society</i>, 1894) the question whether
-the camels of Lob-nor, on the slope of Altyn Tag, are remains of a wild
-stock or strayed. No wild dromedaries are known, and the same is
-probably true of camels.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-
-<p class="c sp p2" id="n4">THE FORESTS AND SPORT OF SIBERIA.</p>
-
-<p>See also&mdash;</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-
-<p>W. Radloff, <i>Aus Sibirien</i>, 2 vols., Leipzig, 1884.</p>
-
-<p>A. Th. von Middendorf, <i>Voyage dans l’extrême Nord et dams l’est de la
-Sibérie</i> (<i>St. Petersburg</i>, 1848).</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_29" href="#FNanchor_29" class="label">[Note 28]</a> p. 123.&mdash;<i>The Life of the Forest.</i></p>
-
-<p>With Brehm’s description of this minor forest, the reader should compare
-that which Stanley gives of “The Great Central African Forest”
-(chap. xxiii. of 2nd vol. of <i>In Darkest Africa</i>). He computes the size of
-the main mass at 321,057 square miles. A few sentences from his
-description may be quoted.</p>
-
-<p>“Imagine the whole of France and the Iberian peninsula closely packed
-with trees varying from 20 to 180 feet high, whose crowns of foliage
-interlace and prevent any view of sky and sun, and each tree from a few
-inches to four feet in diameter. Then from tree to tree run cables from
-two inches to fifteen inches in diameter, up and down in loops and
-festoons and W’s and badly-formed M’s; fold them round the trees in
-great tight coils, until they have run up the entire height like endless
-anacondas; let them flower and leaf luxuriantly, and mix up above with
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_572">[Pg 572]</span>the foliage of the trees to hide the sun, then from the highest branches let
-fall the ends of the cables reaching near to the ground by hundreds with
-frayed extremities, for these represent the air roots of the epiphytes; let
-slender cords hang down also in tassels with open threadwork at the
-ends. Work others through and through as confusedly as possible, and
-pendent from branch to branch&mdash;with absolute disregard of material, and
-at every fork and on every horizontal branch plant cabbage-like lichens
-of the largest kind, and broad spear-leaved plants&mdash;these would represent
-the elephant-eared plant&mdash;and orchids and clusters of vegetable marvels,
-and a drapery of delicate ferns which abound. Now cover tree, branch,
-twig, and creeper with a thick moss like a green fur.”</p>
-
-<p>He goes on to describe the rush of life to fill up each gap&mdash;the struggle
-for existence&mdash;the crowding, crushing, and strangling&mdash;the death and
-disease.</p>
-
-<p>“To complete the mental picture of this ruthless forest, the ground
-should be strewn thickly with half-formed humus of rotting twigs, leaves,
-branches; every few yards there should be a prostrate giant, a reeking
-compost of rotten fibres, and departed generations of insects, and colonies
-of ants, half veiled with masses of vines and shrouded by the leafage of a
-multitude of baby saplings, lengthy briars and calamus in many fathom
-lengths, and every mile or so there should be muddy streams, stagnant
-creeks, and shallow pools, green with duckweed, leaves of lotus and lilies,
-and a greasy green scum composed of millions of finite growths.”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_30" href="#FNanchor_30" class="label">[Note 29]</a> p. 126.&mdash;<i>Appearance of Decay in the Forests.</i></p>
-
-<p>A closely similar picture is given by Mr. E. N. Buxton in recounting a
-journey in the Rocky Mountains. He says: “This bane of pack-trains is
-caused by forest fires, which have burnt out the life of the trees, leaving
-only gaunt stems and blackened ground, followed by tempests which have
-whirled these tottering giants in heaps to the ground. In places the
-stems lie parallel to one another, and piled to the height of many feet as
-though they had been laid in sheaves. Elsewhere, while some have
-stood the shock and are still erect, their neighbours lie prone at every
-conceivable angle to one another, and their branches pierce the air as
-weathered snags. This ghastly waste, whether brought about by natural
-causes, or the recklessness of man, will have to be paid for some day, for
-are we not within measurable distance of the inevitable world-wide
-timber-famine” (E. N. Buxton, <i>Short Stalks</i>, 1893).</p>
-
-<p>See also Rodway’s <i>In the Guiana Forest</i> (London, 1895), and article
-“Death in the Forest” (<i>Natural Science</i>, Sept., 1892).</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_31" href="#FNanchor_31" class="label">[Note 30]</a> p. 129.&mdash;<i>Taiga.</i></p>
-
-<p>“A strip of Alpine region, 100-150 miles in breadth, consisting of
-separate mountain-chains whose peaks rise from 4800-6500 feet above
-sea-level, and beyond the limits of forest vegetation.” According to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_573">[Pg 573]</span>
-Radloff, the name <i>taiga</i> is also generally applied by the Kalmucks to
-wooded and rocky mountain-land.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_32" href="#FNanchor_32" class="label">[Note 31]</a> p. 135.&mdash;<i>Extermination of the Beaver.</i></p>
-
-<p>Mr. Martin, in his eulogy of the beaver (<i>Castorologia</i>, 1892), describes
-the rapid diminution of numbers in Canada, largely as the result of
-careless greed, but also through the spread of colonisation. He believes
-that by the end of the century, none will be found except in museums.
-Their rarity in Europe is well known.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_33" href="#FNanchor_33" class="label">[Note 32]</a> p. 136.&mdash;<i>Export of skins.</i></p>
-
-<p>Radloff notes, in 1884, that the yearly sale of furs at the Irbitsch fair
-amounts to between three and four millions of roubles.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_34" href="#FNanchor_34" class="label">[Note 33]</a> p. 144.&mdash;<i>Velvet of antlers.</i></p>
-
-<p>An account of the various ways in which pounded antlers and the
-vascular velvet were once used in medicine will be found in Prof. W.
-Marshall’s recent <i>Arzenei-Kästlein</i>, Leipzig, 1894.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_35" href="#FNanchor_35" class="label">[Note 34]</a> p. 147.&mdash;<i>The Elk.</i></p>
-
-<p>The elk (<i>Alces machlis</i>) is the largest of the land animals of Europe, and
-is the same as the “moose” of Canada.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_36" href="#FNanchor_36" class="label">[Note 35]</a> p. 150.&mdash;<i>Rouble.</i></p>
-
-<p>This varies from 3<i>s.</i> 8<i>d.</i> to 3<i>s.</i> 10<i>d.</i>, but is usually reckoned as 4<i>s.</i> Of
-the kopeks, afterwards referred to, a hundred go to the rouble.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_37" href="#FNanchor_37" class="label">[Note 36]</a> p. 161.&mdash;<i>Brick Tea.</i></p>
-
-<p>Broken or powdered tea-leaves mixed with the blood of the sheep or ox,
-and formed into cakes. Other fragrant leaves are sometimes added.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_38" href="#FNanchor_38" class="label">[Note 37]</a> p. 165.&mdash;<i>The Bear rearing her cubs.</i></p>
-
-<p>I have been unable to find any corroboration of this story as to the she-bear
-employing her children of a former year as nurses.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-
-<p class="c sp p2" id="n5">THE STEPPES OF INNER AFRICA.</p>
-
-<p>See&mdash;</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-
-<p>Selous, F. C. <i>Travel and Adventure in South-East Africa</i> (1893).</p>
-
-<p>Solymos, B. (B. E. Falkenberg). <i>Desert Life: Recollections of an Expedition
-in the Soudan.</i> London, 1880.</p>
-
-<p>Foà, E. <i>Mes grandes Chasses dans l’Afrique Centrale.</i> Paris, 1895.</p>
-
-<p>Lichtenstein, M. H. K. <i>Reise im Südlichen Africa.</i> Berlin, 1812.</p>
-
-<p>G. Schweinfurth. <i>The Heart of Africa.</i></p>
-
-<p>J. Thomson. <i>Through Masai Land.</i></p>
-
-<p><i>Emin Pasha in Central Africa.</i> Edited by Schweinfurth, Ratzel, Felkin,
-and Hartlaub. London, 1885.</p>
-
-<p>Also well-known works by Livingstone, Stanley, &amp;c.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_574">[Pg 574]</span></p>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_39" href="#FNanchor_39" class="label">[Note 38]</a> p. 170.&mdash;<i>Heat in the Desert.</i></p>
-
-<p>50° Celsius, or Centigrade = 122° Fahrenheit. Temperatures of 121°,
-122°, 133° Fahr., and so on, have been repeatedly recorded in the desert.
-Solymos, in his <i>Desert Life</i>, notes 115° Fahr. in the shade as the maximum
-for his year. He also calls attention to the frost and ice! “Duveyrier
-registered frost twenty-six times between December and March in the
-plains of the Central Sahara.” His picture of the desert-well is much less
-optimistic than Brehm’s.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_40" href="#FNanchor_40" class="label">[Note 39]</a> p. 173.&mdash;<i>The Termites.</i></p>
-
-<p>Termites or “white ants” are very characteristic, wood-eating insects of
-tropical Africa and other warm countries. Though not related to the true
-ants, they have somewhat similar social organizations.</p>
-
-<p>The reader will be rewarded who turns to Prof. Henry Drummond’s
-<i>Tropical Africa</i>, where there is not only a graphic description of the ways
-of the termites, but an interesting theory of their possible agricultural
-importance. As they avoid the light, and travel on the trees only under
-cover of their tunnels of finely-comminuted and cemented earth, they must
-be continually pulverizing the soil. When rain-storms come this fine dust
-is washed from the trees, and some of it may go to swell the alluvium of
-distant valleys. Hence the termite may be, like the earthworm, a soil-maker
-of considerable importance. Mr. H. A. Bryden, in his <i>Gun and
-Camera in Southern Africa</i> (London, 1893), writes as follows of the termites:
-“Our cases, portmanteaus, &amp;c., were arranged round, but not touching the
-walls. Every article reposed on glass bottles, as the only known protection
-against the depredations of white ants.... They will eat large
-holes in a thick tweed coat in one night, and anything softer than metal
-left to their tender mercies for a night or two is irretrievably ruined....
-If the huts are inspected every few days, the tunnels of self-made mortar
-can be swept away, and the depredator kept at all events to the flooring....
-Most housewives have, at least once a year, to institute a crusade
-against the marauders, dig up the flooring, and attempt to find the queen.
-If the queen-ant can be successfully located and dug up, the nuisance is
-ended; the rest of the ants, bereft of their sovereign, at once quit the
-building, and for a season trouble no more.... In the forests to the
-north and west the mischief done by these insects is enormous. The tree
-is attacked, the tunnels are run up along the bole, the wood is pierced and
-riddled, and the work of destruction is soon completed.”</p>
-
-<p>There is, however, a lack of precise observation as to the extent to which
-termites attack trees which are altogether sound and living. In great
-measure they merely hasten and complete a destruction for whose initiation
-they are not responsible.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_41" href="#FNanchor_41" class="label">[Note 40]</a> p. 173.&mdash;<i>Summer Sleep.</i></p>
-
-<p>Summer-sleep in torrid regions, affecting a few fishes, amphibians, and
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_575">[Pg 575]</span>reptiles, is a phenomenon analogous to hibernation elsewhere, but its
-physiological explanation is even more obscure.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_42" href="#FNanchor_42" class="label">[Note 41]</a> p. 174.&mdash;<i>The Karroo.</i></p>
-
-<p>Karroo, a general name for the highland steppes of South Africa. See
-H. A. Bryden’s <i>Kloof and Karroo</i> (1889).</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_43" href="#FNanchor_43" class="label">[Note 42]</a> p. 178.&mdash;Cerastes (<i>Vipera hasselquistii</i>).</p>
-
-<p>The horned viper is the most common viper of Northern Africa. It is
-extremely poisonous. It is of a brownish-white colour with darker markings,
-and has a scaly spine or horn over each eye. This species is usually
-supposed to have been Cleopatra’s asp.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_44" href="#FNanchor_44" class="label">[Note 43]</a> p. 182. See Note 39.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_45" href="#FNanchor_45" class="label">[Note 44]</a> p. 183.&mdash;<i>The mud-fish.</i></p>
-
-<p>This remarkable animal (<i>Protopterus</i>) is one of the Double-breathers or
-Dipnoi, a member of a small class between Fishes and Amphibians, represented
-by three genera&mdash;<i>Ceratodus</i> in Queensland, <i>Lepidosiren</i> in Brazil,
-and this <i>Protopterus</i> in Africa. They differ in many ways from other
-fishes, being physiologically intermediate between Fishes and Amphibians.
-Hundreds of specimens have been brought within their ‘nests’ from
-Africa to Europe. Brehm speaks of the complete enclosure of the capsule,
-but this is now known to communicate with the outer world by a tubular
-passage through the mud. At the foot of this tube the mud-fish keeps his
-nostrils. The lung is a specialization of the swim-bladder which is present
-in most fishes.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_46" href="#FNanchor_46" class="label">[Note 45]</a> p. 184.&mdash;<i>The Royal Aspis or Uräus.</i></p>
-
-<p>The Uräus snake or Aspis is the well-known Egyptian jugglers’ snake
-(<i>Naja haje</i>). It may be over six feet in length, and is very deadly.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_47" href="#FNanchor_47" class="label">[Note 46]</a> p. 185.&mdash;<i>Spitting poison.</i></p>
-
-<p>The poison of a snake is contained in the secretion of a specialized
-salivary gland. The compression of this venom gland propels the fluid
-along a duct which leads to the groove or canal of the fang. Infection
-with the venom only occurs when, by more or less of a bite, the poison is
-injected into the victim. No spitting of poison is known, nor would it
-have effect without a wound.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_48" href="#FNanchor_48" class="label">[Note 47]</a> p. 186.&mdash;<i>The Gecko.</i></p>
-
-<p>Figures and a brief description of the gecko’s clinging foot will be found
-in Semper’s well-known <i>Animal Life</i> (International Science Series,
-1881). The clinging power is due to numerous long bristle-like hairs on
-the sole of the foot. These appear to be modifications of the “casting-hairs”
-which are used in “skin-casting”.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_576">[Pg 576]</span></p>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_49" href="#FNanchor_49" class="label">[Note 48]</a> p. 191.&mdash;<i>Dance of Ostrich.</i></p>
-
-<p>A vivid picture of the Ostrich dance will be found in Prof. Lloyd
-Morgan’s <i>Animal Sketches</i> (1892).</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_50" href="#FNanchor_50" class="label">[Note 49]</a> p. 192.&mdash;<i>Ostrich.</i></p>
-
-<p>Prof. Newton, in his <i>Dictionary of Birds</i>, notes that Ostriches, though
-sometimes assembling in troops of 30-50, commonly live in companies of
-four or five&mdash;one cock and the rest hens. This is especially true at the
-breeding season. All the hens lay together; the cock broods during the
-night; the hens take turns during the day, more, it would seem, to guard
-their common treasure from jackals and small beasts of prey than directly
-to forward the process of hatching, for that is often left wholly to the sun.
-Some thirty eggs are laid in the nest, and round it are scattered perhaps
-as many more, which are said to be used as food for the newly-hatched
-chicks.</p>
-
-<p>Compare works cited in that article: M. H. K. Lichtenstein, <i>Reise im
-südlichen Africa</i> (Berlin, 1812); Fursch and Hartlaub, <i>Vögel Ost Afrikas</i>;
-De Mosenthal and Harting, <i>Ostrich and Ostrich Farming</i>; also, Mrs.
-Martin, <i>Home Life on an Ostrich Farm</i>.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_51" href="#FNanchor_51" class="label">[Note 50]</a> p. 193.&mdash;<i>Primaries and Secondaries.</i></p>
-
-<p>Primary feathers are the longer quill-feathers of the wing, and are
-borne by the ‘hand’ of the bird; the secondaries are the quill-feathers
-higher up, borne by the ulna of the arm.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-
-<p class="c sp p2" id="n6">THE PRIMEVAL FORESTS OF CENTRAL AFRICA.</p>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_52" href="#FNanchor_52" class="label">[Note 51]</a> p. 220.&mdash;<i>Hornbills.</i></p>
-
-<p>Members of the family Bucerotidæ, including some 60 species whose
-generic arrangement is uncertain. Of their habits Prof. Newton says:
-“They breed in holes of trees, laying large white eggs, and when the hen
-begins to sit, the cock plasters up the entrance with mud or clay, leaving
-only a small window, through which she receives the food he brings her
-during her voluntary imprisonment”. He notes Mr. Bartlett’s discovery,
-confirmed by others, that the hornbills cast out at intervals the lining of
-their gizzard in the form of a bag, which is filled with the fruit that the
-bird has been eating, and asks whether “these castings are really intended
-to form the hen-bird’s food during her confinement”.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_53" href="#FNanchor_53" class="label">[Note 52]</a> p. 221.&mdash;<i>Umber- or Umbre-bird.</i></p>
-
-<p>This bird, whose name refers to the earthy-brown colour, is the
-Hammer-head or <i>Scopus umbretta</i> of ornithologists. Of the nest, Prof.
-Newton says that “it is occasionally some six feet in diameter, a mass of
-sticks, roots, grass, and rushes compactly piled together, with a flat-topped
-roof, the interior being neatly lined with clay, and a hole of entrance and
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_577">[Pg 577]</span>exit”. It may be of interest to compare its nest with that of the South
-American Oven-birds (<i>Furnarius</i>, &amp;c.).</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_54" href="#FNanchor_54" class="label">[Note 53]</a> p. 221.&mdash;<i>Doves beside falcons.</i></p>
-
-<p>Those interested in the facts of nature which suggest the danger of
-exaggerating the Darwinian idea of the struggle for existence should consult
-two articles by Kropotkine, entitled “Mutual Aid Among Animals”,
-in the <i>Nineteenth Century</i>, 1889. Kropotkine cites from Dr. Coues, an
-American ornithologist, an observation in regard to some little cliff swallows
-which nested quite near the home of a prairie falcon. “The little peaceful
-birds had no fear of their rapacious neighbour; they did not let it even
-approach to their colony. They immediately surrounded it and chased it,
-so that it had to make off at once.”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_55" href="#FNanchor_55" class="label">[Note 54]</a> p. 223.&mdash;<i>And they know that this is so.</i></p>
-
-<p>Brehm suggests here and elsewhere what it would be difficult to prove,
-that animals which have unconsciously acquired protective colouring, and
-which instinctively crouch or lie still instead of trying to escape by flight,
-are aware of their adaptation to concealment. There seem to be but few
-cases which give countenance to this supposition.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_56" href="#FNanchor_56" class="label">[Note 55]</a> p. 227.&mdash;<i>Crocodile Bird.</i></p>
-
-<p>This is usually regarded as <i>Pluvianus</i> or <i>Hyas ægyptius</i>&mdash;one of the
-“plovers” in the wide sense. Professor Newton observes, however, in a
-note to the article “Plover” in his <i>Dictionary of Birds</i> that there is not perfect
-unanimity on the matter, as some have supposed that the “crocodile
-bird” was a lapwing&mdash;<i>Hoplopterus spinosus</i>. But the elder Geoffroy St.
-Hilaire and Brehm, who both saw the bird enter the reptile’s mouth,
-regarded it as <i>Pluvianus ægyptius</i>.</p>
-
-<p>Dr. Leith Adams notes (1870) that the crocodile is now rarely seen
-below Beni Hassan, and is evidently receding everywhere below the second
-cataract. Both Herodotus and Strabo speak of its domestication, and it is
-tamed at the present day by certain religious sects in India. On the
-lower Nile it is shy and difficult even to shoot.</p>
-
-<p>“A sail, or the smoke and noise of a steamboat, suffice to warn the
-crocodiles basking on the sand-banks, or their common companions, the
-black-headed and spur-winged plovers (<i>Pluvianus ægyptius</i> and <i>Hoplopterus
-spinosus</i>), which are frequently seen perched on their backs, and always
-prepared to give timely warning of approaching danger, just as the Father
-of History noticed them 2300 years ago, and, strange to say, his well-known
-story is current among the modern Egyptians, who, as usual, have put a
-tail to the narrative. They say, that in addition to its office of leech-catcher
-to the crocodile, it occasionally does happen that the zic-zac&mdash;so
-called from its note of alarm&mdash;in searching for the leeches, finds its way
-into the reptile’s mouth when the latter is basking on a sand-bank, where
-it lies generally with the jaws wide apart. Now this is possible and
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_578">[Pg 578]</span>likely enough, but the captain of our boat added, that occasionally the
-crocodile falls asleep, when the jaws suddenly fall, and the zic-zac is shut
-up in the mouth, when it immediately prods the crocodile with its horny
-spurs, as if refreshing the memory of his reptilian majesty, who opens his
-jaws and sets his favourite leech-catcher at liberty” (Leith Adams).</p>
-
-</div>
-
-
-<p class="c sp p2" id="n7">MIGRATIONS OF MAMMALS.</p>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_57" href="#FNanchor_57" class="label">[Note 56]</a> p. 237.&mdash;<i>Rats.</i></p>
-
-<p>The brown rat (<i>Mus decumanus</i>) is much stronger than the black rat
-(<i>Mus rattus</i>), and gains an easy victory. The rivalry between the two
-species is one of the examples Darwin gives of his generalization that the
-struggle for existence is most severe between allied forms, and there seems
-no doubt that the brown rat has often ousted and will even devour the
-black rat. The latter is now rare in Britain. It should be noted, however,
-(1) that the two species are said sometimes to live together on board
-ship, (2) that cases have been recorded where the black rat returned and
-defeated its conquerors, and (3) that the black rat keeps more about houses,
-stables, and barns, is therefore more readily exterminated by man, whose
-efforts were doubtless increased when a second species appeared on the
-scene. The case is of some importance in connection with the generalization
-referred to above.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_58" href="#FNanchor_58" class="label">[Note 57]</a> p. 240.&mdash;<i>Migrations of Reindeer.</i></p>
-
-<p>Of the reindeer in Spitzbergen, Nordenskiöld writes:&mdash;“During the
-summer it betakes itself to the grassy plains in the ice-free valleys of the
-island; in the late autumn it withdraws&mdash;according to the walrus-hunter’s
-statements&mdash;to the sea-coast, in order to eat the seaweed that is thrown
-up on the beach. In winter it goes back to the lichen-clad mountain
-heights in the interior of the country, where it appears to thrive exceedingly
-well, though the cold during winter must be excessively severe; for
-when the reindeer in spring return to the coast they are still very fat, but
-some weeks afterwards, when the snow has frozen on the surface, and a
-crust of ice makes it difficult for them to get at the mountain sides, they
-become so poor as to be scarcely eatable. In summer, however, they
-speedily eat themselves back into condition, and in autumn they are so fat
-that they would certainly take prizes at an exhibition of fat cattle.”</p>
-
-<p>Wrangel describes migrations of thousands of reindeer in Eastern
-Siberia moving from the mountains to the forests, where they winter. He
-mentions his guide’s assertion that each body is led by a female of large
-size.</p>
-
-<p>Perhaps we may take the liberty of quoting, with a tribute of admiration,
-Mr. F. Marion Crawford’s eloquent description of a wild rush of
-reindeer from the inland country to the shore. We confess to incredulity
-in regard to the reindeer’s longing to drink of the Polar Sea, but the
-splendid vividness of the description may excuse some slight inaccuracy.</p>
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_579">[Pg 579]</span>
-<p>“In the distant northern plains, a hundred miles from the sea, in the
-midst of the Laplander’s village, a young reindeer raises his broad muzzle
-to the north wind, and stares at the limitless distance while a man may
-count a hundred. He grows restless from that moment, but he is yet alone.
-The next day a dozen of the herd look up from the cropping of the moss,
-sniffing the breeze. Then the Laps nod to one another and the camp grows
-daily more unquiet. At times the whole herd of young deer stand at gaze,
-as it were, breathing hard through wide nostrils, then jostling each other
-and stamping the soft ground. They grow unruly, and it is hard to harness
-them in the light sledge. As the days pass, the Laps watch them
-more and more closely, well knowing what will happen sooner or later,
-and then at last, in the northern twilight, the great herd begins to move.
-The impulse is simultaneous, irresistible, their heads are all turned in one
-direction. They move slowly at first, biting still, here and there, at the
-rich moss. Presently the slow step becomes a trot, they crowd closely
-together, while the Laps hasten to gather up their last unpacked possessions&mdash;their
-cooking utensils and their wooden gods. The great herd
-break together from a trot to a gallop, from a gallop to a breakneck race,
-the distant thunder of their united tread reaches the camp during a few
-minutes, and they are gone to drink of the Polar Sea. The Laps follow
-after them, dragging painfully their laden sledges in the broad track left
-by the thousands of galloping beasts&mdash;a day’s journey, and they are yet
-far from the sea, and the trail is yet broad. On the second day it grows
-narrower, and there are stains of blood to be seen; far on the distant plain
-before them their sharp eyes distinguish in the direct line a dark motionless
-object, another, and another. The race has grown more desperate
-and more wild as the stampede neared the sea. The weaker reindeer have
-been thrown down and trampled to death by their stronger fellows. A
-thousand sharp hoofs have crushed and cut through hide and flesh and
-bone. Ever swifter and more terrible in their motion, the ruthless herd
-has raced onward, careless of the slain, careless of food, careless of any
-drink but the sharp salt water ahead of them. And when at last the
-Laplanders reach the shore their deer are once more quietly grazing, once
-more tame and docile, once more ready to drag the sledge whithersoever
-they are guided. Once in his life the reindeer must taste of the sea in one
-long, satisfying draught, and if he is hindered he perishes. Neither man
-nor beast dare stand before him in the hundred miles of his arrow-like
-path.”&mdash;<i>A Cigarette-Maker’s Romance</i>, vol. ii. pp. 23-25.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_59" href="#FNanchor_59" class="label">[Note 58]</a> p. 241.&mdash;<i>Migrations of Bisons.</i></p>
-
-<p>In regard to the migration of the bison or buffalo, Mr. G. B. Grinnell
-writes:&mdash;“It was once thought that the buffalo performed annually
-extensive migrations, and it was even said that those which spent the
-summer on the banks of the Saskatchewan wintered in Texas. There
-is no reason for believing this to have been true. Undoubtedly there
-were slight general movements north and south, and east and west, at<span class="pagenum" id="Page_580">[Pg 580]</span>
-certain seasons of the year; but many of the accounts of these movements
-are entirely misleading, because grossly exaggerated. In one
-portion of the northern country I know that there was a decided east-and-west
-seasonal migration, the herds tending in spring away from the
-mountains, while in the autumn they worked back again, seeking shelter
-in the rough, broken country of the foot-hills from the cold west winds of
-the winter.”&mdash;<i>American Big-Game Hunting</i> (Boone and Crockett Club),
-edited by Theodore Roosevelt and George Bird Grinnell, Edin., 1893.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_60" href="#FNanchor_60" class="label">[Note 59]</a> p. 250.&mdash;<i>Migrations of Seals.</i></p>
-
-<p>Much interesting information as to the migrations and habits of seals
-will be found in J. A. Allen’s <i>History of North American Pinnipedia</i>. The
-eared fur-seals (<i>Otaria</i>) and others travel periodically to the breeding-places
-or “rookeries”, where they spend a considerable time, but it should be
-noted that our common seal (<i>Phoca vitulina</i>) does not make seasonal
-migrations.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_61" href="#FNanchor_61" class="label">[Note 60]</a> p. 256.&mdash;<i>Instinct of the Lemming.</i></p>
-
-<p>A discussion of the strange instinct of the lemming, remarkable in its
-apparent fatality, will be found in Romanes’s <i>Mental Evolution in Animals</i>.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_62" href="#FNanchor_62" class="label">[Note 61]</a> p. 258.&mdash;<i>Numbers of Springbok.</i></p>
-
-<p>“I beheld the plains and even the hillsides which stretched on every
-side of me thickly covered, not with herds, but with one vast mass of
-springboks; as far as the eye could strain the landscape was alive with
-them, until they softened down into a dim red mass of living creatures.
-To endeavour to form any idea of the number of antelopes which I had
-that day beheld were vain, but I have no hesitation in saying that
-some hundreds of thousands were within the compass of my vision.”&mdash;<i>Gordon
-Cumming.</i> With this should be compared what other sportsmen
-and travellers have in recent years told us of rapidly diminishing
-numbers.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_63" href="#FNanchor_63" class="label">[Note 62]</a> p. 260.&mdash;<i>The Monkey Question.</i></p>
-
-<p>The position of evolutionists in regard to the relations of man and
-monkeys is conveniently stated in Huxley’s <i>Man’s Place in Nature</i>. A
-criticism of the thorough-going evolutionist position, from the philosopher’s
-point of view, will be found in Professor Calderwood’s <i>Evolution and
-Man’s Place in Nature</i>. A midway position is indicated in Wallace’s
-<i>Darwinism</i>.</p>
-
-<p>While most naturalists are now thoroughly evolutionist in regard to the
-descent or ascent of man, as in regard to other problems, most would probably
-agree with Lloyd Morgan’s cautious conclusion:&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>“In denying to animals the perception of relations and the faculty of
-reason, I do so in no dogmatic spirit, and not in support of any preconceived
-theory or opinion, but because the evidence now before us is not,
-in my opinion, sufficient to justify the hypothesis that any animals have<span class="pagenum" id="Page_581">[Pg 581]</span>
-reached that stage of mental evolution at which they are even incipiently
-rational.”</p>
-
-<p>Probably all naturalists allow that animals who profit by experience
-and adapt their actions to varying circumstances are <i>intelligent</i>. But
-cases which force us to credit animals with general ideas, with “thinking
-the therefore”, in short, with reason, are admitted by few.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-
-<p class="c sp p2" id="n8">LOVE AND COURTSHIP AMONG BIRDS.</p>
-
-<p>While admiring the vigorous protest which Brehm makes in this
-chapter against the interpretation which regards animals as automata,
-I feel that he has hardly done justice to it. In general terms, the interpretation
-is that animals act as they do in virtue of an inherited organic
-mechanism which responds in a uniform manner to certain stimuli. That
-this is true of many animal and even human actions, especially in early
-youth, seems highly probable. That it only covers a small fraction of
-animal behaviour is certain. But even those who go furthest in extending
-the scope of animal automatism, do not say that an automatic act may not
-be accompanied by consciousness, they only say that it is not <i>controlled</i> by
-consciousness. See Huxley, <i>Are Animals automata?</i> in his collected Essays:
-and Lloyd Morgan, <i>Introduction to Comparative Psychology</i>.</p>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_64" href="#FNanchor_64" class="label">[Note 63]</a> p. 272.&mdash;<i>Sexual Selection.</i></p>
-
-<p>For a statement of the doctrine of sexual selection, the original document&mdash;Darwin’s
-<i>Descent of Man</i>&mdash;should be consulted. But the theory
-has met with strong criticism, <i>e.g.</i> on the part of Alfred Russel Wallace,
-see his <i>Darwinism</i>. See also <i>The Evolution of Sex</i>, by Geddes and
-Thomson, and Lloyd Morgan’s <i>Animal Life and Intelligence</i>.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_65" href="#FNanchor_65" class="label">[Note 64]</a> p. 279.&mdash;<i>Polygamous Birds.</i></p>
-
-<p>Darwin has discussed the question of polygamous birds in his <i>Descent
-of Man</i>.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_66" href="#FNanchor_66" class="label">[Note 65]</a> p. 281.&mdash;<i>The Widowed Bird.</i></p>
-
-<p>For one of the finest expressions in literature of the possible emotions
-of the widowed bird, we may be allowed to refer to Walt Whitman’s
-“Out of the cradle endlessly rocking” (<i>Leaves of Grass</i>).</p>
-
-</div>
-
-
-<p class="c sp p2" id="n9">APES AND MONKEYS.</p>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_67" href="#FNanchor_67" class="label">[Note 66]</a> p. 285.&mdash;<i>Descent from Monkeys.</i></p>
-
-<p>Hanumân, the sacred Hindoo long-tailed monkey, plays an important
-part in Hindoo mythology. He was the friend of Vishnu during his
-incarnation as Rama Chandra, and he aided the god greatly in the search
-for his wife Sita, who had been carried off by Ravān. A female slave,
-who had tended Sita kindly during her captivity, was married to Hanumân
-as a reward, and this pair some Indian noble families proudly claim
-as ancestors.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_582">[Pg 582]</span></p>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_68" href="#FNanchor_68" class="label">[Note 67]</a> p. 286.&mdash;<i>Monkeys on the Rock of Gibraltar.</i></p>
-
-<p>A letter written in 1880 by an officer in Gibraltar to the <i>Field</i> newspaper
-and quoted in vol. i. of the <i>Royal Natural History</i> gives the
-number living on the Rock at that time as twenty-five, among whom
-were only two adult males. There had been several gangs of them at one
-time, but they had done so much damage in the town gardens that they
-had been nearly exterminated by means of traps and poison. But in
-1856, when their numbers had been reduced to four or five, a garrison
-order was issued forbidding further destruction of them, and since that
-time they have been strictly preserved and regularly counted. In 1863,
-four were imported from Africa, and after a time were admitted as
-members of the band. Another attempt was made in 1872 to reinforce
-their numbers, but it was unsuccessful.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_69" href="#FNanchor_69" class="label">[Note 68]</a> p. 290.&mdash;<i>Habits of Monkeys.</i></p>
-
-<p>See Mr. Garner’s observations on monkeys (<i>Speech of Monkeys</i>, 1893);
-Hartmann’s <i>Apes and Monkeys</i> (Internat. Science Series), Romanes’s
-<i>Animal Intelligence</i> and <i>Mental Evolution in Animals</i>. H. A. Forbes,
-<i>A Handbook to the Primates</i> (Allen’s Naturalist’s Library; Lond. 1894).
-Mr. Havelock Ellis in his <i>Man and Woman</i> (Lond. 1894) has some interesting
-notes on the relation of young monkeys and young children to the
-adult forms.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_70" href="#FNanchor_70" class="label">[Note 69]</a> p. 291.&mdash;<i>Death from Grief.</i></p>
-
-<p>Instances of death from grief are given in Romanes’s <i>Animal Intelligence</i>.
-See also a paper by Mr. Garner in <i>Harper’s Monthly</i>, 1894.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_71" href="#FNanchor_71" class="label">[Note 70]</a> p. 298.&mdash;<i>Speech of Monkeys.</i></p>
-
-<p>See Mr. Garner’s <i>Speech of Monkeys</i> (Lond. 1893), which tends to
-support Brehm’s view. But in reference to Garner’s work, Lloyd Morgan
-says, “Of the nine sounds made by capuchins, not one is, so far as the
-observations go, indubitably indicative of a particular object of desire.
-All of them may be, and would seem to be, in the emotional stage, and
-expressive of satisfaction, discontent, alarm, apprehension, and so forth.
-Still they may be indicative of particular objects of appetence or aversion;
-and experiments with the phonograph, conducted with due care and
-under test-conditions, may do much to throw light upon an interesting
-and important problem.” After careful consideration, Prof. Lloyd Morgan
-says, “At present, however, there is not, so far as I am aware, any
-evidence that animals possess powers of descriptive intercommunication
-involving perception of relations”.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_72" href="#FNanchor_72" class="label">[Note 71]</a> p. 298.&mdash;<i>Right and Wrong in Monkeys.</i></p>
-
-<p>What is said here should be compared with the discussion of the
-subject in Darwin’s <i>Descent of Man</i>, Romanes’s <i>Mental Evolution in Animals</i>,
-or perhaps most conveniently in Lloyd Morgan’s <i>Introduction to Comparative
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_583">[Pg 583]</span>Psychology</i> (Lond. 1894). According to the last-named authority
-the moral sense “involves a thinking of the <i>ought</i>; it involves a more or
-less definite perception of the relation of a given act to an ideal standard”.
-“In none of these cases (cited), is there sufficient evidence to justify a
-belief that a standard of conduct takes form in the animal mind.”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_73" href="#FNanchor_73" class="label">[Note 72]</a> p. 303.&mdash;<i>Mutual Aid among Monkeys.</i></p>
-
-<p>Mr. Darwin quotes this case in his <i>Descent of Man</i>, and calls the
-monkey “a true hero”. Similar examples of mutual aid will be found
-in the same work, as also in a couple of articles by Prince Kropotkine,
-“Mutual Aid among Animals”, <i>Nineteenth Century</i>, 1889.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_74" href="#FNanchor_74" class="label">[Note 73]</a> p. 316.&mdash;<i>Effect of age.</i></p>
-
-<p>There are some who hold that observation favours the opposite view,
-that the young ape is relatively more human and less simian than the
-adult. With these, rather than with Brehm, we agree. There is, however,
-need of more precise physiological and psychological observation.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_75" href="#FNanchor_75" class="label">[Note 74]</a> p. 318.&mdash;<i>Man’s Place in Nature.</i></p>
-
-<p>It should be noted that the zoologist’s usual statement of his position is
-that he believes that men and the higher apes have arisen from a common
-stock. See Huxley’s <i>Man’s Place in Nature</i>. As the anthropoid apes
-are believed to have diverged as distinct types in Miocene times, the common
-stock is plainly in the almost inconceivably distant past. A belief in
-descent from a common stock does not in the least affect the demonstrable
-distinctiveness of man, nor does it explain how the evolution, whose results
-we are, took place. See Darwin’s <i>Descent of Man</i>, and Drummond’s
-<i>Ascent of Man</i>.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-
-<p class="c sp p2" id="n10">DESERT JOURNEYS.</p>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_76" href="#FNanchor_76" class="label">[Note 75]</a> p. 330.&mdash;<i>Nodules in the Desert.</i></p>
-
-<p>These seem to be the now well-known manganese nodules. The puzzling
-question of their origin is discussed by Dr. John Murray in that part of
-the <i>Challenger</i> Reports which deals with marine deposits. Solymos thus
-describes them, “Belted by higher hills, I have mounted one, apparently
-consisting entirely of a lofty pile of hardened equal sandstone balls, the
-size of peaches. They were as nearly globular as anything in nature&mdash;a
-bubble, a drop, a planet.”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-
-<p class="c sp p2" id="n11">NUBIA AND THE NILE RAPIDS.</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-
-<p>For some interesting geological and zoological observations see A. Leith
-Adams, <i>Notes of a Naturalist in the Nile Valley and Malta</i> (1870). J. H.
-Speke, <i>Journal of the Discovery of the Source of the Nile</i> (1864).</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_77" href="#FNanchor_77" class="label">[Note 76]</a> p. 358,&mdash;<i>On the Nile and its Cataracts.</i></p>
-
-<p>See Sir Samuel Baker’s <i>The Nile and its Tributaries</i> (1867), and Walter
-Budge, <i>The Nile: Notes for Travellers in Egypt</i> (1890).</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_584">[Pg 584]</span></p>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_78" href="#FNanchor_78" class="label">[Note 77]</a> p. 359.&mdash;<i>Syenite.</i></p>
-
-<p>Syenite, a hard crystalline rock, resembling granite, and well adapted
-for monuments. It is not known in Britain, but occurs in many parts of
-Europe and America, as well as at the place to which it owes its name.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_79" href="#FNanchor_79" class="label">[Note 78]</a> p. 362.&mdash;<i>Philæ.</i></p>
-
-<p>Philæ has recently been a centre of attention in connection with the
-Egyptian waterworks. See Sir Benjamin Baker, “Nile Reservoirs and
-Philæ”, <i>Nineteenth Century</i>, xxxv. (1894), pp. 863-72; J. P. Mahaffy, “The
-Devastation of Nubia”, pp. 1013-18; Frank Dillon, “The Submergence
-of Philæ”, pp. 1019-25; H. D. Pearsall, “The Nile Reservoirs”, <i>Scottish
-Geographical Magazine</i> (1895, August), pp. 393-402.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_80" href="#FNanchor_80" class="label">[Note 79]</a> p. 370.&mdash;<i>Government of Egypt.</i></p>
-
-<p>The reader must bear in mind that Egypt has had a somewhat complex
-political history since Brehm wrote.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-
-<p class="c sp p2" id="n12">A JOURNEY IN SIBERIA.</p>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_81" href="#FNanchor_81" class="label">[Note 80]</a> p. 397.&mdash;<i>Archar Sheep.</i></p>
-
-<p>Archar or arkal is the Kirghiz name for the Mongolian argali (<i>Ovis
-ammon</i>). The animal is almost as large as a donkey, has enormous horns
-and short coarse hair. It is said to be now restricted to Northern Mongolia,
-and some districts of Southern Siberia. The Tibetan argali (<i>Ovis
-hodgsoni</i>) is closely allied. See Sir V. Brooke, <i>Proc. Zoological Society</i>,
-1875.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_82" href="#FNanchor_82" class="label">[Note 81]</a> p. 412.&mdash;<i>Splenic Fever.</i></p>
-
-<p>Anthrax or splenic fever is a rapidly fatal disease due to a microbe,
-<i>Bacillus anthracis</i>. This was demonstrated by Koch, and corroborated by
-Pasteur. The latter discovered how to attenuate the virus, and secure
-immunity by inoculation. Cattle, sheep, and reindeer are among the
-commonest victims; but, as the narrative shows, man himself is not
-exempt.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-
-<p class="c sp p2" id="n13">THE HEATHEN OSTIAKS.</p>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_83" href="#FNanchor_83" class="label">[Note 82]</a> p. 426.&mdash;<i>Present state of Ostiaks.</i></p>
-
-<p>The Ostiak population was estimated in 1891 at about 27,000, and is
-believed to be still decreasing. There is some interesting information
-regarding them in Erman’s <i>Travels in Siberia</i>.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_84" href="#FNanchor_84" class="label">[Note 83]</a> p. 433&mdash;<i>Larvæ out of nostrils.</i></p>
-
-<p>The reindeer is excessively troubled by the attacks of several insects,
-related to the bot-flies (Œstridæ), which attack sheep, cattle, and horses
-in this country. One lays its eggs in the skin, another in the nostrils,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_585">[Pg 585]</span>
-whence the larvæ emerge. The reindeer have a great horror of these
-insects, and are said to become weak and emaciated in their efforts to avoid
-them. The disease due to the parasitic insects is sometimes referred to as
-“germ”, and may destroy most of a herd.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_85" href="#FNanchor_85" class="label">[Note 84]</a> p. 438.&mdash;<i>Brick Tea.</i></p>
-
-<p>See Note 36.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_86" href="#FNanchor_86" class="label">[Note 85]</a> p. 444.&mdash;<i>Shamans.</i></p>
-
-<p>Some interesting details as to these in Hofgaard’s <i>Nordenskïold’s
-Voyage</i>. He speaks of the preparatory asceticism: “solitude, watching,
-fasting, exciting and narcotic remedies work upon his imagination; he
-soon sees the spirits and the apparitions he heard about in his youth, and
-believes firmly in them”.... “He is no cool, calculating deceiver, no
-common conjuror.” “Sometimes they have been thrashed in order that
-they might change a particular prophecy, but Wrangel relates a case in
-1814, when their orders to kill a beloved chief, in order to stay a plague,
-were at length obeyed. Though Christianity has been introduced for
-more than a century, the Shamans have still (1882) much power.”</p>
-
-<p>A scholarly account of the Shamans, which includes much interesting
-material in regard to the customs which Brehm describes in this chapter,
-will be found in the <i>Journal of the Anthropological Institute</i>, xxiv., August
-and September, 1894. “Shamanism in Siberia and European Russia”,
-being the second part of “Shamantsvo,” by Professor V. M. Mikhailovskii,
-translated by O. Wardrop.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-
-<p class="c sp p2" id="n14">NOMAD HERDSMEN AND HERDS OF THE STEPPES.</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-
-<p>See F. Burnaby’s <i>Ride to Khiva</i> (1876); H. Lansdell’s <i>Through Siberia</i>
-(1882), and <i>Russian Central Asia</i> (1885); A. de Levchine, <i>Description des
-Hordes et des Steppes des Kirghiz-Kazaks</i> (Paris, 1840); Zaleskie, <i>La vie des
-Steppes Kirghizes</i> (Paris, 1865).</p>
-</div>
-
-
-<p class="c sp p2" id="n15">COLONISTS AND EXILES IN SIBERIA.</p>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_87" href="#FNanchor_87" class="label">[Note 86]</a> p. 514.&mdash;<i>Geology of the Altai.</i></p>
-
-<p>“In the Altai the mountains are built up of granites, syenites, and
-diorites covered with metamorphic slates belonging to the Laurentian,
-Silurian, Devonian, and Carboniferous periods. The Jurassic strata on
-the outskirts are all fresh-water deposits, and contain coal.”</p>
-
-<p>“The Altai Mines (12,000 men) yielded in 1881, 16,670 lbs. of silver,
-13,140 cwts. lead, 6708 cwts. copper, 3200 cwts. iron, 240,000 cwts. coal,
-and 320,000 cwts. salt.”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_586">[Pg 586]</span></p>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_88" href="#FNanchor_88" class="label">[Note 87]</a> p. 539.&mdash;<i>The Exile System.</i></p>
-
-<p>The reader should consult Dr. Lansdell’s <i>Through Siberia</i> (London, 1882);
-H. de Windt’s <i>Siberia As It Is</i> (London, 1892); Seebohm’s <i>Siberia in Asia</i>
-(1882). While some, <i>e.g.</i> de Windt, give an account of the exile system
-which agrees with Brehm’s, it should be noted that others think very
-differently; see Kennan’s <i>Siberia and the Exile System</i> (1891).</p>
-
-</div>
-
-
-<p class="c sp p2" id="n16">AN ORNITHOLOGIST ON THE DANUBE.</p>
-
-<div class="footnote">
-
-<p><a id="Footnote_89" href="#FNanchor_89" class="label">[Note 88]</a> p. 563.&mdash;<i>The Penduline Titmouse.</i></p>
-
-<p>A very small species of titmouse occurring in Southern Europe and
-Africa. Its remarkable nest (see figure) is formed of a felt woven of hemp
-or wool often mixed with goat’s hair. It usually hangs on the extreme
-end of a branch just over water. Both birds share in the work of building,
-as also in that of hatching and rearing the young, of which there are
-usually seven.</p>
-
-</div>
-<hr class="full x-ebookmaker-drop" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_587">[Pg 587]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="c21">INDEX.</h2>
-</div>
-
-<ul class="index">
-<li class="ifrst">Aard-vark or ant-eater, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Abiad, Bahr-el-, White Nile, <a href="#Page_368">368</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Abu tok, a small hornbill, <a href="#Page_216">216</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Adony, heronry on island of, <a href="#Page_544">544</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Altai, crown-estate of the, <a href="#Page_513">513</a>, <a href="#Page_585">585</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Altrices and præcoces, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>, <a href="#Page_566">566</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Antelope, migrations of the, <a href="#Page_245">245</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Anthropoid apes, <a href="#Page_308">308</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Apes and Monkeys, <a href="#Page_282">282</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">an Arabic legend about baboons, <a href="#Page_282">282</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">ancient beliefs of Egypt and India, <a href="#Page_284">284</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">the “monkey question” discussed, <a href="#Page_285">285</a>, <a href="#Page_580">580</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">their distribution and habits, <a href="#Page_286">286</a>, <a href="#Page_582">582</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">talents and abilities, <a href="#Page_291">291</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">New-World monkeys, <a href="#Page_293">293</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">a concert of red howlers, <a href="#Page_295">295</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">Old-World monkeys, <a href="#Page_296">296</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">two types, the Dog-like and Man-like, <a href="#Page_296">296</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">endowments and characteristics of the Dog-like monkey, <a href="#Page_296">296</a>, <a href="#Page_582">582</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">examples of their bravery, intelligence, and self-esteem, <a href="#Page_299">299</a>, <a href="#Page_582">582</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">Man-like or anthropoid apes, <a href="#Page_308">308</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">their structure, habits, and voice-power, <a href="#Page_308">308</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">highest specimens of this type, <a href="#Page_311">311</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">the chimpanzee, <a href="#Page_311">311</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">differences between man and the ape, <a href="#Page_317">317</a>, <a href="#Page_583">583</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Archar, a giant wild sheep, <a href="#Page_110">110</a>, <a href="#Page_397">397</a>, <a href="#Page_584">584</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Arctic fox, <a href="#Page_73">73</a>, <a href="#Page_155">155</a>, <a href="#Page_567">567</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Asiatic steppes, the, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Aspis, a venomous snake, <a href="#Page_184">184</a>, <a href="#Page_575">575</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Assuan, on the Nile, <a href="#Page_359">359</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Auk, life and habits of the, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>, <a href="#Page_566">566</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Aul of the Kirghiz, <a href="#Page_464">464</a>, <a href="#Page_478">478</a>, <a href="#Page_497">497</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Azrek, Bahr-el-, Blue Nile, <a href="#Page_203">203</a>, <a href="#Page_368">368</a>.</li>
-
-
-<li class="ifrst">Baboons in Central Africa, <a href="#Page_238">238</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Baobab-tree, <a href="#Page_209">209</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Bards among the Kirghiz, <a href="#Page_493">493</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Barnaul, town of, <a href="#Page_518">518</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Bat, migration of the, <a href="#Page_251">251</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Bateleur, or short-tailed African eagle, <a href="#Page_188">188</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">poetic legend regarding, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">its remarkable flight during pairing-time, <a href="#Page_265">265</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Bear, habits of the, <a href="#Page_163">163</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">value of its skin, <a href="#Page_165">165</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">its teeth and claws considered potent charms, <a href="#Page_165">165</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">methods of its capture, <a href="#Page_166">166</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">stories of encounters with bears, <a href="#Page_166">166</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Beaver, extermination of the, <a href="#Page_135">135</a>, <a href="#Page_573">573</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Bedouins of the desert, <a href="#Page_352">352</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Bee-eater, courting of the, <a href="#Page_266">266</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Bird-bergs of Scandinavia, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>, <a href="#Page_51">51</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Birds, love and courtship among, <a href="#Page_259">259</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">methods of their wooing, <a href="#Page_262">262</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">combats of rival lovers, <a href="#Page_272">272</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">unfaithfulness among, <a href="#Page_278">278</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Bird voices of the primitive forest, <a href="#Page_215">215</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Bison, migrations of the, <a href="#Page_241">241</a>, <a href="#Page_579">579</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Brehm, Alfred E., sketch of, <a href="#f1">xxvii</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Brick tea, <a href="#Page_573">573</a>, <a href="#Page_585">585</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Brooding islands of Scandinavia described, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">visits to, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Buffalo, the, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>, <a href="#Page_569">569</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Bulban for decoying black grouse, <a href="#Page_142">142</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Buran or snow-hurricane, <a href="#Page_94">94</a>.</li>
-
-
-<li class="ifrst">Camel of the Kirghiz, <a href="#Page_466">466</a>, <a href="#Page_571">571</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Capuchin monkeys, <a href="#Page_239">239</a>, <a href="#Page_296">296</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Cat, ancestors of the, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>, <a href="#Page_571">571</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Cataracts of the Nile, <a href="#Page_358">358</a>, <a href="#Page_583">583</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">navigation of the, <a href="#Page_379">379</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Cattle of the Kirghiz, <a href="#Page_466">466</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Cembra or stone-pine of Siberia, <a href="#Page_128">128</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Cerastes or horned viper, <a href="#Page_178">178</a>, <a href="#Page_575">575</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Chabir or leader of a caravan, <a href="#Page_322">322</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Chimpanzee, character of the, <a href="#Page_311">311</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">story of one, <a href="#Page_315">315</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Chinese breakfast, a, <a href="#Page_400">400</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Climbing plants in primitive forests, <a href="#Page_210">210</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Colonists and Exiles in Siberia, <a href="#Page_510">510</a>, <a href="#Page_586">586</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">their conditions of life, <a href="#Page_511">511</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">abolition of serfdom, <a href="#Page_512">512</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">the crown-estate of Altai, <a href="#Page_513">513</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">condition of its inhabitants, <a href="#Page_515">515</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">their character, <a href="#Page_518">518</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">a peasant’s views, <a href="#Page_519">519</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">over-abundant harvests, <a href="#Page_521">521</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">early marriages, <a href="#Page_522">522</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">marriage customs, <a href="#Page_523">523</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">the criminal classes, <a href="#Page_524">524</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">their transport and government allowances, <a href="#Page_524">524</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">their considerate treatment, <a href="#Page_530">530</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">a prison school, <a href="#Page_532">532</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">orphan asylum, <a href="#Page_533">533</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">among the criminals, <a href="#Page_533">533</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">their reformation sought, <a href="#Page_534">534</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">convict work in the mines, <a href="#Page_534">534</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">attempted escapes, <a href="#Page_536">536</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Convicts in Siberia, <a href="#Page_524">524</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Crested crane, notes of the, <a href="#Page_216">216</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Crocodile, the, <a href="#Page_225">225</a>, <a href="#Page_227">227</a>, <a href="#Page_577">577</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Crocodile-bird, the, <a href="#Page_227">227</a>, <a href="#Page_577">577</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Cuckoo, courting of the, <a href="#Page_264">264</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">its polygamy, <a href="#Page_279">279</a>.</li>
-
-
-<li class="ifrst">Danube, an Ornithologist on the, <a href="#Page_540">540</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Darwin, Charles, <a href="#Page_xxiv">xxiv</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">his Doctrine of Descent, <a href="#Page_317">317</a>, <a href="#Page_438">438</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Dauw, flight of the, <a href="#Page_256">256</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Desert Journeys, <a href="#Page_318">318</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">bargaining with a sheikh, <a href="#Page_318">318</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">preparations for a start, <a href="#Page_321">321</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">camel-riding, <a href="#Page_325">325</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">the Sahara or Great Desert described, <a href="#Page_326">326</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">its animal life, <a href="#Page_331">331</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">discomforts of the desert journey, <a href="#Page_336">336</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">the camel-driver sketched, <a href="#Page_338">338</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">a night in the desert, <a href="#Page_340">340</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">the oasis, <a href="#Page_341">341</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">life at a well in the desert, <a href="#Page_345">345</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">a festival of nomads and travellers, <a href="#Page_347">347</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">coming of the Simoom, <a href="#Page_348">348</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">the mirage, <a href="#Page_351">351</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">an interview with Bedouins, <a href="#Page_352">352</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">the Nile reached, <a href="#Page_355">355</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Diving-birds in the tundra, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Dog-like monkeys, <a href="#Page_296">296</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Dogs, of the Ostiaks, <a href="#Page_429">429</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">of the Kirghiz, <a href="#Page_467">467</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Domesticated animals, ancestors of our, <a href="#Page_115">115</a>, <a href="#Page_571">571</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Dove, courting of the, <a href="#Page_266">266</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Dromedary, the, <a href="#Page_466">466</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Duleb-palm, the, <a href="#Page_210">210</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Dwarf-birch of the tundra, <a href="#Page_68">68</a>.</li>
-
-
-<li class="ifrst">Eagle, hunting with the, <a href="#Page_486">486</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Eider-duck, the, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">its appearance and habits, <a href="#Page_41">41</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">her search for a brooding-place, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">the nest robbed by the Norseman, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">she builds a second nest, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">value of the down on her breast, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>, <a href="#Page_565">565</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">her remarkable tameness, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">the birds steal each other’s eggs, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">the ducklings protected and placed in the sea by the natives, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Eider-holms, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Elephant, the, <a href="#Page_233">233</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Elephantine, on the Nile, <a href="#Page_359">359</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Elk, hunting of the, <a href="#Page_147">147</a>; <a href="#Page_573">573</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Exiles. See <i>Colonists</i>.</li>
-
-
-<li class="ifrst">Faber’s description of a brooding-place, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Fall-trap, used in Siberia, <a href="#Page_136">136</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Family and Social Life among the Kirghiz, <a href="#Page_482">482</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">alleged origin of the people, <a href="#Page_482">482</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">their true character, <a href="#Page_483">483</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">their expert horsemanship, <a href="#Page_484">484</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">wrestling, <a href="#Page_485">485</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">hunting, <a href="#Page_486">486</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">their love of talking, <a href="#Page_492">492</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">language, <a href="#Page_493">493</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">bards, <a href="#Page_493">493</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">education and religious feeling, <a href="#Page_494">494</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">good qualities of the people, <a href="#Page_494">494</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">family pride and vanity, <a href="#Page_495">495</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">social customs and hospitality, <a href="#Page_496">496</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">wedding ceremonies, <a href="#Page_497">497</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">a lover’s song, <a href="#Page_502">502</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">treatment of children, <a href="#Page_506">506</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">funeral ceremonies, <a href="#Page_507">507</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Fata Morgana or “devil’s sea”, <a href="#Page_351">351</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Fighting-ruffs, combats of, <a href="#Page_102">102</a>; <a href="#Page_570">570</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Forests of Siberia, <a href="#Page_121">121</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">of Africa and America, <a href="#Page_571">571</a>, <a href="#Page_572">572</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">forest-fires, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Fox, hunted for its valuable fur, <a href="#Page_155">155</a>; <a href="#Page_487">487</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Fruskagora, hunting and exploring in, <a href="#Page_557">557</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Funeral ceremonies among the Kirghiz, <a href="#Page_507">507</a>.</li>
-
-
-<li class="ifrst">Gazelle of the desert, <a href="#Page_332">332</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Gecko lizard, the, <a href="#Page_186">186</a>, <a href="#Page_575">575</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Goat of the Kirghiz, <a href="#Page_464">464</a>, <a href="#Page_571">571</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Goat-sucker or night-jar, <a href="#Page_193">193</a>, <a href="#Page_266">266</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Gobi steppe, migrations from the, <a href="#Page_242">242</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Golden plover of the tundra, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Gulls, breeding-places of, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>.</li>
-
-
-<li class="ifrst">Hare and Hounds, game of, in Nubia, <a href="#Page_377">377</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Hare of Western Siberia, <a href="#Page_150">150</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Hassanie, a Soudanese tribe, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">their appearance and singular customs, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">their huts, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">life of a Hassanie matron, <a href="#Page_206">206</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Hazel-grouse, hunting of the, <a href="#Page_142">142</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Heat in the desert, <a href="#Page_170">170</a>, <a href="#Page_574">574</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Hippopotamus, the, <a href="#Page_225">225</a>, <a href="#Page_230">230</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Hochtiere, an order including man and the monkey, <a href="#Page_317">317</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Hornbill, the, <a href="#Page_219">219</a>, <a href="#Page_576">576</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Horse, among the Kirghiz, <a href="#Page_458">458</a>, <a href="#Page_484">484</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">horse-racing, <a href="#Page_485">485</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Hulman and Bunder, monkeys worshipped, <a href="#Page_238">238</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Humboldt, Alexander von, <a href="#Page_xx">xx.</a></li>
-
-<li class="indx">Hungary, bird-fauna of, <a href="#Page_540">540</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Hyæna-dog of African steppes, <a href="#Page_195">195</a>.</li>
-
-
-<li class="ifrst">Instinct <i>versus</i> Love, <a href="#Page_259">259</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Isegrim, name for the wolf, <a href="#Page_152">152</a>, <a href="#Page_154">154</a>, <a href="#Page_564">564</a>.</li>
-
-
-<li class="ifrst">Jerboa of the Asiatic steppes, <a href="#Page_108">108</a>, <a href="#Page_570">570</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Journey, in the Desert, <a href="#Page_318">318</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">in Siberia, <a href="#Page_390">390</a>.</li>
-
-
-<li class="ifrst">Kaisak, Kasak, or Cossack. See <i>Kirghiz</i>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Kalüm, price of a Kirghiz bride, <a href="#Page_499">499</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Kazan, town of, <a href="#Page_393">393</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Kirghiz, the, <a href="#Page_397">397</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">a sample of their poetry, <a href="#Page_398">398</a>.</li>
-<li class="isub1">See <i>Nomad Herdsmen</i>, and <i>Family and Social Life</i>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Kittiwake, brooding-places of the, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Korti, the Nubians defeated at, <a href="#Page_370">370</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Koumiss, <a href="#Page_469">469</a>, <a href="#Page_498">498</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Kulan, ancestor of the domestic horse, <a href="#Page_115">115</a>, <a href="#Page_404">404</a>, <a href="#Page_571">571</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">migrations of the, <a href="#Page_245">245</a>.</li>
-
-
-<li class="ifrst">Lark of the Asiatic steppes, <a href="#Page_105">105</a>, <a href="#Page_115">115</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Lemming of the tundra, <a href="#Page_74">74</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">migrations of, <a href="#Page_254">254</a>, <a href="#Page_568">568</a>, <a href="#Page_580">580</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Lizards in Africa, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Locusts, <a href="#Page_230">230</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Lofodens and their bird-life, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Love and Courtship among Birds, <a href="#Page_259">259</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">intelligence and emotional life in animals, <a href="#Page_260">260</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">all birds seek to pair, <a href="#Page_261">261</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">various methods of bird-wooing, <a href="#Page_262">262</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">their songs are love-songs, <a href="#Page_263">263</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">their love-flights, <a href="#Page_265">265</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">love-dances, <a href="#Page_266">266</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">coyness of the female birds, <a href="#Page_271">271</a>, <a href="#Page_581">581</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">combats among the rival males, <a href="#Page_272">272</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">devotion of birds to their chosen mates, <a href="#Page_275">275</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">occasional unfaithfulness, <a href="#Page_277">277</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">polygamous birds, <a href="#Page_279">279</a>, <a href="#Page_581">581</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">bird widows and widowers, <a href="#Page_280">280</a>, <a href="#Page_581">581</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Love <i>versus</i> Instinct, <a href="#Page_259">259</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Love-dances of birds, <a href="#Page_266">266</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Love-flights of kites, harriers, &amp;c., <a href="#Page_265">265</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Love-song of birds, <a href="#Page_263">263</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Lynx in Siberia, <a href="#Page_155">155</a>.</li>
-
-
-<li class="ifrst">Mammals, migrations of, <a href="#Page_234">234</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Man-like apes, <a href="#Page_308">308</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Maral stag, hunting of the, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">value of his antlers for preparing a Chinese quack specific, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>, <a href="#Page_573">573</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Marmoset, lowest of the monkey order, <a href="#Page_291">291</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Marriage ceremonies among the Kirghiz, <a href="#Page_498">498</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Marsh-harrier, a bird of prey, <a href="#Page_102">102</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Melik el Nimmr, the “panther king”, <a href="#Page_371">371</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Metallic starling, the, <a href="#Page_214">214</a>, <a href="#Page_215">215</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Migrations of Mammals, <a href="#Page_234">234</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">causes of periodic migrations, <a href="#Page_234">234</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">wanderings of the brown rat, souslik, and mice, <a href="#Page_235">235</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">expeditions to obtain better food, <a href="#Page_238">238</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">fundamental cause of all true migration, <a href="#Page_239">239</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">scarcity of water a cause of migrations, <a href="#Page_242">242</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">migration of sea animals, <a href="#Page_248">248</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">mad flight of zebras and other animals in South Africa, <a href="#Page_256">256</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Mines of Siberia, convicts in, <a href="#Page_534">534</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Mohammed Aali subjugates the Nubians, <a href="#Page_370">370</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Monkeys. See <i>Apes and Monkeys</i>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Monkeys, long-tailed, <a href="#Page_222">222</a>, <a href="#Page_581">581</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Mosquito, a terrible pest in the tundra, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>, <a href="#Page_568">568</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Mud-fish of Africa, <a href="#Page_183">183</a>, <a href="#Page_575">575</a>.</li>
-
-
-<li class="ifrst">Naturalist-travellers, list of works by, <a href="#Page_xxix">xxix</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Nests of birds, <a href="#Page_217">217</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">of the bee-eaters, <a href="#Page_217">217</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">of the golden weaver-birds, <a href="#Page_218">218</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">of the cow weaver-birds, <a href="#Page_219">219</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">of finches, <a href="#Page_219">219</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">of the hornbills, <a href="#Page_219">219</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">of the umber-bird, <a href="#Page_220">220</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">of the dwarf peregrine falcon and guinea-dove, <a href="#Page_221">221</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">of the African swift, <a href="#Page_221">221</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">of the crocodile-bird, <a href="#Page_229">229</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">New-World or broad-nosed monkeys, <a href="#Page_293">293</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Nomad Herdsmen and Herds of the Steppes, <a href="#Page_451">451</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">domain and tribes of the Kirghiz, <a href="#Page_452">452</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">their racial affinities, <a href="#Page_452">452</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">physical features, <a href="#Page_453">453</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">dress, <a href="#Page_453">453</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">dwellings, <a href="#Page_454">454</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">wealth reckoned by their herds, <a href="#Page_458">458</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">importance of the horse, <a href="#Page_458">458</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">their sheep and goats, <a href="#Page_464">464</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">cattle, <a href="#Page_465">465</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">camels, <a href="#Page_466">466</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">dog, <a href="#Page_467">467</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">food of the people, <a href="#Page_468">468</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">their constant roamings, <a href="#Page_470">470</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">the winter camping-ground, <a href="#Page_473">473</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">manner of travelling, <a href="#Page_474">474</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">milking the animals, <a href="#Page_477">477</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">a charming picture of pastoral life, <a href="#Page_480">480</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Northern Lights, the, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, <a href="#Page_443">443</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Norway, harvest of the sea, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Nubia and the Nile Rapids, <a href="#Page_356">356</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">the region of the rapids, <a href="#Page_357">357</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">its prehistoric ruins, <a href="#Page_359">359</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">vegetation and fauna, <a href="#Page_363">363</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">fertility of middle Nubia, <a href="#Page_366">366</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">the Nubian and Egyptian contrasted, <a href="#Page_368">368</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">Nubia subjugated by the Egyptians, <a href="#Page_370">370</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">sketch of the Nubian people, <a href="#Page_373">373</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">navigation of the rapids, <a href="#Page_379">379</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">a night on one of the rocks, <a href="#Page_382">382</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">the voyage down-stream, <a href="#Page_383">383</a>, <a href="#Page_388">388</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">a warning unheeded, <a href="#Page_388">388</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Nyke, visit to the, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">its immense number of birds, <a href="#Page_55">55</a>.</li>
-
-
-<li class="ifrst">Oases of the desert, <a href="#Page_341">341</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Obdorsk, annual fair at, <a href="#Page_440">440</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Ohrt, the Ostiak god, <a href="#Page_421">421</a>, <a href="#Page_443">443</a>, <a href="#Page_448">448</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Old-World monkeys, <a href="#Page_296">296</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Omsk, town of, <a href="#Page_396">396</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Ornithologist (an) on the Danube, <a href="#Page_540">540</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">a tempting invitation, <a href="#Page_541">541</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">scenery on the Danube, <a href="#Page_541">541</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">a famous heronry, <a href="#Page_544">544</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">bird-life in the marshes, <a href="#Page_546">546</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">sea-eagle hunting, <a href="#Page_548">548</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">fighting and pairing of the birds, <a href="#Page_549">549</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">care for their young, <a href="#Page_552">552</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">protection of animal life in Hungary, <a href="#Page_554">554</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">a grand river picture, <a href="#Page_556">556</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">a wonderful district, <a href="#Page_557">557</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">vulture-shooting, <a href="#Page_561">561</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">a sail through a forest-wilderness, <a href="#Page_563">563</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Ostiaks, the Heathen, <a href="#Page_416">416</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">condition of the people, <a href="#Page_416">416</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">probable number of the tribe, <a href="#Page_417">417</a>, <a href="#Page_584">584</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">contrasted with Ostiaks of the Greek Church, <a href="#Page_418">418</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">their physical features, <a href="#Page_421">421</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">language and dress, <a href="#Page_422">422</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">dwellings, <a href="#Page_423">423</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">employments, <a href="#Page_425">425</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">their reindeer and dogs, <a href="#Page_426">426</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">constant migrations, <a href="#Page_431">431</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">a “bloody meal”, <a href="#Page_434">434</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">at night in a tshum, <a href="#Page_436">436</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">at a fishing-station, <a href="#Page_437">437</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">hunting for game, <a href="#Page_439">439</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">the fair of Obdorsk, <a href="#Page_440">440</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">evils of brandy-drinking, <a href="#Page_440">440</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">marriage customs, <a href="#Page_441">441</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">domestic life, <a href="#Page_445">445</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">performances and prophecies of a shaman, <a href="#Page_445">445</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">religion of the people, <a href="#Page_448">448</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">their burial customs, <a href="#Page_450">450</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Ostrich, legend regarding the, <a href="#Page_190">190</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">habits and omnivorous appetite of, <a href="#Page_191">191</a>, <a href="#Page_576">576</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">breeding of, <a href="#Page_192">192</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Ox of the Kirghiz, <a href="#Page_465">465</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Oyster-catcher, the, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>.</li>
-
-
-<li class="ifrst">Pairing-cry of birds, <a href="#Page_273">273</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Pallas’s sand-grouse or steppe-grouse, <a href="#Page_115">115</a>, <a href="#Page_404">404</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Palm-tree of the desert, <a href="#Page_342">342</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Pangolin of North Africa, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Phalarope in the tundra, <a href="#Page_80">80</a>, <a href="#Page_568">568</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Philæ, island of, <a href="#Page_361">361</a>, <a href="#Page_584">584</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Pichta fir of Siberia, <a href="#Page_128">128</a>, <a href="#Page_394">394</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Pine-marten, <a href="#Page_158">158</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">hunting of the, <a href="#Page_161">161</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Polygamy of some birds, <a href="#Page_279">279</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Primeval Forests of Central Africa, <a href="#Page_201">201</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">their magnificence in spring-time, <a href="#Page_203">203</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">sailing up the Blue Nile, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">a remarkable tribe, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">the forest reached, <a href="#Page_207">207</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">difficulty of penetrating it, <a href="#Page_208">208</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">the baobab-tree and duleb-palm, <a href="#Page_209">209</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">bird-fauna of the forest, <a href="#Page_213">213</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">varieties of nests, <a href="#Page_217">217</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">mammals of the forest, <a href="#Page_222">222</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">animal life on the river-banks and islands, <a href="#Page_225">225</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">rain-lakes and water-pools of the forest, <a href="#Page_229">229</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">visits of the locust, <a href="#Page_230">230</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">night in the primeval forest, <a href="#Page_231">231</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Ptarmigan of the tundra, <a href="#Page_77">77</a></li>
-
-
-<li class="ifrst">Quagga, flight of the, <a href="#Page_256">256</a>; <a href="#Page_569">569</a>.</li>
-
-
-<li class="ifrst">Ramwood of the Asiatic steppes, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Rat, invasion of the, <a href="#Page_235">235</a>; <a href="#Page_578">578</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Razor-bill or auk, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Reindeer, <a href="#Page_76">76</a>, <a href="#Page_150">150</a>, <a href="#Page_240">240</a>, <a href="#Page_578">578</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">ravages of disease among, <a href="#Page_412">412</a>, <a href="#Page_426">426</a>, <a href="#Page_584">584</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Roe-deer, hunting of the, <a href="#Page_146">146</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Rouble and kopek, <a href="#Page_573">573</a>.</li>
-
-
-<li class="ifrst">Sable, rarity of the, <a href="#Page_157">157</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">hunting the, <a href="#Page_161">161</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Sahara, the, <a href="#Page_326">326</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Salt-steppes, <a href="#Page_90">90</a>, <a href="#Page_98">98</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Salt’s antelope, <a href="#Page_223">223</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Samoyedes, <a href="#Page_417">417</a>, <a href="#Page_440">440</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Sand-grouse of the desert, <a href="#Page_334">334</a>, <a href="#Page_570">570</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Scandinavia, ancient legend concerning, <a href="#Page_33">33</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">general aspect of the land, <a href="#Page_34">34</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">its fjords, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">islands and skerries, <a href="#Page_37">37</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">fisheries, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">bird-bergs, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>, <a href="#Page_51">51</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Schlangenberg or Snakemount, <a href="#Page_107">107</a>, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>, <a href="#Page_157">157</a>, <a href="#Page_408">408</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Schohazen or Catholic Servians, <a href="#Page_555">555</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Sea-birds, habits of, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">value of their eggs and flesh as food, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Sea-eagle hunting in Hungary, <a href="#Page_548">548</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Seal, migrations of the, <a href="#Page_250">250</a>, <a href="#Page_580">580</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Secretary-bird, <a href="#Page_184">184</a>, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Serfdom, abolition of, <a href="#Page_512">512</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Shaman or Ostiak priest, <a href="#Page_445">445</a>, <a href="#Page_585">585</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Sheep of the Kirghiz, <a href="#Page_464">464</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Shendy, massacre at, <a href="#Page_371">371</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">Nubians defeated at, <a href="#Page_373">373</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Shrikes, different notes of male and female, <a href="#Page_216">216</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Siberia, false ideas concerning, <a href="#Page_120">120</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">its vast forests, <a href="#Page_121">121</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">forest-fires, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">limited variety of trees, <a href="#Page_127">127</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">difficulty of traversing the primeval forests, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">their desolateness, <a href="#Page_131">131</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">uncertainty of finding game, <a href="#Page_132">132</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">Siberian methods of hunting, <a href="#Page_135">135</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">the trade in furs and birds’ skins, <a href="#Page_135">135</a>, <a href="#Page_573">573</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">game animals of the forests, <a href="#Page_136">136</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">hunting of game birds, <a href="#Page_140">140</a>, and of big and smaller game, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Siberia, Journey in, <a href="#Page_390">390</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">travelling in winter, <a href="#Page_391">391</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">from Europe into Asia, <a href="#Page_394">394</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">Western Siberia reached, <a href="#Page_395">395</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">Russian hospitality, <a href="#Page_395">395</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">a great hunting expedition, <a href="#Page_397">397</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">entertained by a Chinese mandarin, <a href="#Page_399">399</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">a horrible massacre, <a href="#Page_401">401</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">at the Irtish river, <a href="#Page_404">404</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">in the Altai Mountains, <a href="#Page_404">404</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">camp-life with a Russian general, <a href="#Page_405">405</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">summer scene in the Altai, <a href="#Page_406">406</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">a voyage on the great river Obi, <a href="#Page_408">408</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">an unfortunate exploring expedition, <a href="#Page_411">411</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">ravages of disease, <a href="#Page_412">412</a>, <a href="#Page_414">414</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">the return home, <a href="#Page_415">415</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Simoom, the, <a href="#Page_171">171</a>, <a href="#Page_348">348</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Skua in the tundra, <a href="#Page_79">79</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Sky-goat, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>, <a href="#Page_570">570</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Souslik, the, <a href="#Page_108">108</a>, <a href="#Page_237">237</a>, <a href="#Page_407">407</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Spiders and scorpions in a night-camp, <a href="#Page_178">178</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Splenic fever, ravages of, <a href="#Page_412">412</a>, <a href="#Page_584">584</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Springbok, flight of the, <a href="#Page_257">257</a>; <a href="#Page_580">580</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Spring-gun of the Ostiaks and Samoyedes, <a href="#Page_139">139</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Squirrels, migrations of, <a href="#Page_253">253</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Steppe, origin and usage of the term, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>, <a href="#Page_174">174</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Steppe-fires, <a href="#Page_397">397</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Steppes, characteristics of the Asiatic, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">their scenery, <a href="#f14">89</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">vegetation, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>, <a href="#Page_568">568</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">beauty of the flowers in spring, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">animal life in the steppes, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>, <a href="#Page_109">109</a>, <a href="#Page_115">115</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">insects and reptiles, <a href="#Page_107">107</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">the giant wild sheep, <a href="#Page_110">110</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">the kulan or wild horse, <a href="#Page_115">115</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">a kulan hunt and capture of a foal, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Steppes of Inner Africa, <a href="#Page_168">168</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">sketch of their seasons, <a href="#Page_169">169</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">miseries of the winter, <a href="#Page_170">170</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">spring heralded by terrible storm and rain, <a href="#Page_171">171</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">definition of the African steppe, <a href="#Page_174">174</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">inhospitable character of the region, <a href="#Page_175">175</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">its vegetation, <a href="#Page_176">176</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">difficulties of travelling, <a href="#Page_177">177</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">a night’s experience in camp, <a href="#Page_177">177</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">fauna of the country, <a href="#Page_182">182</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">the bird-fauna, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">mammals, <a href="#Page_193">193</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">stampede and destruction of animal life caused by the steppe-fire, <a href="#Page_198">198</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Stone-seas in the Nile, <a href="#Page_367">367</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Storks, stories regarding, <a href="#Page_276">276</a>, <a href="#Page_277">277</a>, <a href="#Page_278">278</a>, <a href="#Page_281">281</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Swallow, courting of the, <a href="#Page_266">266</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Swärtholm brooding-place, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>, <a href="#Page_62">62</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Syene, or Sun, on the Nile, <a href="#Page_359">359</a>, <a href="#Page_584">584</a>.</li>
-
-
-<li class="ifrst">Taiga region in Siberia, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>, <a href="#Page_572">572</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Tarpan of the Dnieper steppes, <a href="#Page_115">115</a>, <a href="#Page_571">571</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Tchukutchak stormed by the Dungani tribe, <a href="#Page_401">401</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Termite or white ant in Africa, <a href="#Page_181">181</a>, <a href="#Page_574">574</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Tiger, hunting of the, <a href="#Page_157">157</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Titmouse, the penduline, <a href="#Page_563">563</a>, <a href="#Page_586">586</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Tiumen, town of, <a href="#Page_395">395</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Tragopan, wooing of the, <a href="#Page_267">267</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Tshum or hut of the Ostiaks, <a href="#Page_410">410</a>, <a href="#Page_423">423</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Tundra of the Polar region, described, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>, <a href="#Page_566">566</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">its lakes, <a href="#Page_67">67</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">vegetation, <a href="#Page_68">68</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">prehistoric animals embedded in its ice-crust, <a href="#Page_72">72</a>, <a href="#Page_567">567</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">fauna of the tundra, <a href="#Page_72">72</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">characteristic birds, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">the mosquito, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">autumn and winter in the tundra, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>;</li>
-<li class="isub1">an unhappy expedition to one, <a href="#Page_411">411</a>.</li>
-
-
-<li class="ifrst">Umber-bird, the, <a href="#Page_220">220</a>, <a href="#Page_576">576</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Ustkamenegorsk, school in, <a href="#Page_494">494</a>.</li>
-
-
-<li class="ifrst">Vodki in Siberia, <a href="#Page_524">524</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Voles, migrations of the, <a href="#Page_253">253</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Vulture, the crested black, <a href="#Page_559">559</a>.</li>
-
-
-<li class="ifrst">Wady Halfa, on the Nile, <a href="#Page_357">357</a>, <a href="#Page_362">362</a>, <a href="#Page_387">387</a>, <a href="#Page_390">390</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Wallace, Alfred Russel, <a href="#Page_xxiv">xxiv</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Whale, systematic migrations of the, <a href="#Page_248">248</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Wild sheep hunting on the Arkat Mountains, <a href="#Page_488">488</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Willows (sallows) of the tundra, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Wolf, <a href="#Page_93">93</a>, <a href="#Page_151">151</a>, <a href="#Page_152">152</a>, <a href="#Page_486">486</a>, <a href="#Page_488">488</a>, <a href="#Page_564">564</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Wood-ibis, song of the, <a href="#Page_216">216</a>.</li>
-
-
-<li class="ifrst">Yamaul, messenger of the gods, <a href="#Page_446">446</a>, <a href="#Page_447">447</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Yurt or Kirghiz house, <a href="#Page_454">454</a>, <a href="#Page_570">570</a>.</li>
-
-
-<li class="ifrst">Zaizan, town of, <a href="#Page_403">403</a>, <a href="#Page_494">494</a>.</li>
-
-<li class="indx">Zebra, flight of the, <a href="#Page_256">256</a>.</li>
-
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