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
altogether too popular, for my audience thought nothing of eating up
a whole solar system every night, and planetary material was becoming
scarce. I was finally compelled, therefore, to use stones and
snowballs to represent celestial bodies, instead of bread and tallow,
and from that time the interest in astronomical phenomena gradually
abated and the popularity of my lectures steadily declined until I was
left without a single hearer.
The short winter day of three hours had long since closed and the
night was far advanced when after twenty-three days of rough travel
we drew near our final destination--the _ultima Thule_ of Russian
civilisation. I was lying on my sledge nearly buried in heavy furs and
half asleep, when the distant barking of dogs announced our approach
to the village of Anadyrsk. I made a hurried attempt to change my
thick fur _torbassa_ and overstockings for American boots, but was
surprised in the very act by the drawing up of my sledge before the
house of the Russian priest, where we intended to stop until we could
make arrangements for a house of our own.
A crowd of curious spectators had gathered about the door to see the
wonderful Amerikanse about whom they had heard, and prominent in the
centre of the fur-clad group stood the priest, with long flowing hair
and beard, dressed in a voluminous black robe, and holding above his
head a long tallow candle which flared wildly in the cold night air.
As soon as I could disencumber my feet of my overstockings I alighted
from my sledge, amid profound bows and "zdrastvuitias" from the crowd,
and received a hearty welcome from the patriarchal priest. Three weeks
roughing it in the wilderness had not, I fancy, improved my personal
appearance, and my costume would have excited a sensation anywhere
except in Siberia. My face, which was not over clean, was darkened by
three weeks' growth of beard; my hair was in confusion and hung in
long ragged locks over my forehead, and the fringe of shaggy black
bearskin around my face gave me a peculiarly wild and savage
expression of countenance. The American boots which I had hastily
drawn on as we entered the village were all that indicated any
previous acquaintance with civilisation. Replying to the respectful
salutations of the Chuances, Yukagirs, and Russian Cossacks who in
yellow fur hoods and potted deerskin coats crowded about the door, I
followed the priest into the house. It was the second dwelling worthy
the name of house which I had entered in twenty-two days, and after
the smoky Korak _yurts_ of Kuil, Mikina, and Shestakóva, it seemed
to me to be a perfect palace. The floor was carpeted with soft, dark
deerskins in which one's feet sank deeply at every step; a blazing
fire burned in a neat fireplace in one corner, and flooded the room
with cheerful light; the tables were covered with bright American
table-cloths; a tiny gilt taper was lighted before a massive gilt
shrine opposite the door; the windows were of glass instead of the
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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