There is in many respects a great resemblance between the fixed and the wandering Koriacs: we cannot therefore but wonder at the little cordiality, or rather at the misunderstanding that subsists among them, on account of which they may be considered as two different people. Their country however is the same, and takes in a vast extent, terminated to the south by the peninsula of Kamtschatka, and the gulf of Pengina; to the east by the country of the Oluterians; to the north by that of the Tchoukchis, and to the west by the Toungouses, the Lamouts, and the Yakouts. It is confidently asserted that this country was formerly very populous, but that the small-pox had made very considerable ravages. I doubt whether it has carried off more of the inhabitants than their frequent contests with their neighbours and with the Russians. The number of fixed Koriacs scarcely exceeds at present nine hundred; and though it is not easy to calculate that of the wandering Koriacs, it is imagined that they do not much surpass this amount. The manners of the former are the reverse of estimable, and are a mixture of duplicity mistrust, and avarice. They have all the vices of the northern nations of Asia, without the virtues. Robbers by nature, they are suspicious, cruel, incapable either of benevolence or pity. To procure the least service from them, it is first necessary to offer, and even to give them some recompence. Nothing but presents can excite their attention, or rouse their activity[24]. From this perfidious and savage disposition, it would not be easy for them to live in peace, or form any durable ties with their neighbours. So unsociable a spirit must also give them an abhorrence of all foreign dominion. Hence their continual insurrection against the Russians, their atrocious robberies, their daily incursions on the people who surround them; hence the respective animosities and revenge that incessantly spring up. This state of war foments in every individual a ferocious spirit. The practice of attacking, and of defending themselves, creates in them an inflexible courage that delights in perpetual combats, and glories in a contempt of life. Superstition lends its aid to ennoble in their eyes this thirst of blood, by imposing a law that obliges them to conquer or to die. The more important is the cause that calls them to arms, the more greedy are they of death. Neither the bravery, nor the number of their adversaries, can at all intimidate them: it is then they swear _to destroy the sun_. They discharge this terrible oath by cutting the throats of their wives and children, burning all their possessions, and rushing madly into the midst of their enemies. The combat can only terminate by the total destruction of one of the parties. The vanquished never seek their safety in flight; honour forbids it; and not a Koriac will survive the slaughter of his countrymen.