Tent Life in Siberia: A New Account of an Old Undertaking; Adventures among the Koraks and Other Tribes In Kamchatka and Northern AsiaKennan, George
History
Tent Life in Siberia: A New Account of an Old Undertaking; Adventures among the Koraks and Other Tribes In Kamchatka and Northern Asia
Kennan, George
Kamchatka Peninsula (Russia) -- Description and travel; Kennan, George, 1845-1924; Siberia, Eastern (Russia) -- Description and travel
With a view to escape from the crowd of Koraks, who squatted around
us on the earthen floor, and whose watchful curiosity soon became
irksome, Dodd and I lifted up the fur curtain of the _polog_ which the
Major's diplomacy had secured, and crawled in to await the advent of
supper. The inquisitive Koraks, unable to find room in the narrow
_polog_ for the whole of their bodies, lay down to the number of nine
on the outside, and poking their ugly, half-shaven heads under the
curtain, resumed their silent supervision. The appearance in a row of
nine disembodied heads, whose staring eyes rolled with synchronous
motion from side to side as we moved, was so ludicrous that we
involuntarily burst into laughter. A responsive smile instantly
appeared upon each of the nine swarthy faces, whose simultaneous
concurrence in the expression of every emotion suggested the idea of
some huge monster with nine heads and but one consciousness. Acting
upon Dodd's suggestion that we try and smoke them out, I took my
brier-wood pipe from my pocket and proceeded to light it with one of
those peculiar snapping lucifers which were among our most cherished
relics of civilisation. As the match, with a miniature fusillade of
sharp reports, burst suddenly into flame, the nine startled heads
instantly disappeared, and from beyond the curtain we could hear a
chorus of long-drawn "tye-e-e's" from the astonished natives, followed
by a perfect Babel of animated comments upon this diabolical method
of producing fire. Fearful, however, of losing some other equally
striking manifestation of the white men's supernatural power, the
heads soon returned, reenforced by several others which the report of
the wonderful occurrence had attracted. The fabled watchfulness of the
hundred-eyed Argus was nothing compared with the scrutiny to which we
were now subjected. Every wreath of curling smoke which rose from our
lips was watched by the staring eyes as intently as if it were some
deadly vapour from the bottomless pit, which would shortly burst into
report and flame. A loud and vigorous sneeze from Dodd was the signal
for a second panic-stricken withdrawal of the row of heads, and
another comparison of respective experiences outside the curtain. It
was laughable enough; but, tired of being stared at and anxious for
something to eat, we crawled out of our _polog_ and watched with
unassumed interest the preparation of supper.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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