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diff --git a/old/68142-0.txt b/old/68142-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 48b5c96..0000000 --- a/old/68142-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,19952 +0,0 @@ -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. - - -PRINTED BY BLACKIE AND SON, LIMITED, GLASGOW. - - - - - Transcriber’s Notes: - - Italics are shown thus: _sloping_. - - Small capitals have been capitalised. - - Variations in spelling and hyphenation are retained. - - Perceived typographical errors have been changed. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FROM NORTH POLE TO -EQUATOR *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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