Part 9 (2/2)

At this interesting crisis we had surprised our Korak friends in the third encampment. The tent which we had entered was an unusually large one, containing twenty-six _pologs_, arranged in a continuous circle around its inner circ.u.mference. The open s.p.a.ce in the centre around the fire was crowded with the dusky faces and half-shaven heads of the Korak spectators, whose attention seemed about equally divided between sundry kettles and troughs of _manyalla_, boiled venison, marrow, frozen tallow, and similar delicacies, and the discussion of some controverted point of marriage etiquette. Owing to my ignorance of the language, I was not able to enter thoroughly into the merits of the disputed question; but it seemed to be ably argued on both sides.

Our sudden entrance seemed to create a temporary diversion from the legitimate business of the evening. The tattooed women and shaven-headed men stared in open-mouthed astonishment at the pale-faced guests who had come unbidden to the marriage-feast, having on no wedding garments. Our faces were undeniably dirty, our blue hunting-s.h.i.+rts and buckskin trousers bore the marks of two months'

rough travel, in numerous rips, tears, and tatters, which were only partially masked by a thick covering of reindeer hair from our fur _kukhlankas._ Our general appearance, in fact, suggested a more intimate acquaintance with dirty _yurts_, mountain thickets, and Siberian storms, than with the civilising influences of soap, water, razors, and needles. We bore the curious scrutiny of the a.s.semblage, however, with the indifference of men who were used to it, and sipped our hot tea while waiting for the ceremony to begin. I looked curiously around to see if I could distinguish the happy candidates for matrimonial honours; but they were evidently concealed in one of the closed _pologs_. The eating and drinking seemed by this time to be about finished, and an air of expectation and suspense pervaded the entire crowd. Suddenly we were startled by the loud and regular beating of a native _baraban_ or ba.s.s drum, which fairly filled the tent with a great volume of sound. At the same instant the tent opened to permit the pa.s.sage of a tall, stern-looking Korak, with an armful of willow sprouts and alder branches, which he proceeded [Ill.u.s.tration: DRAWINGS OF THE KORAKS. ILl.u.s.tRATIVE OF THEIR MYTHS.]

to distribute in all the _pologs_ of the tent. ”What do you suppose that's for?” asked Dodd in an undertone. ”I don't know,” was the reply; ”keep quiet and you'll see.” The regular throbs of the drum continued throughout the distribution of the willow sticks and at its close the drummer began to sing a low, musical recitative, which increased gradually in volume and energy until it swelled into a wild, barbarous chant, timed by the regular beats of the heavy drum. A slight commotion followed, the front curtains of all the _pologs_ were thrown up, the women stationed themselves in detachments of two or three at the entrance of each polog, and took up the willow branches which had been provided. In a moment a venerable native, whom we presumed to be the father of one of the parties, emerged from one of the _pologs_ near the door, leading a good-looking young Korak and the dark-faced bride. Upon their appearance the excitement increased to the pitch of frenzy, the music redoubled its rapidity, the men in the centre of the tent joined in the uncouth chant, and uttered at short intervals peculiar shrill cries of wild excitement. At a given signal from the native who had led out the couple, the bride darted suddenly into the first _polog_, and began a rapid flight around the tent, raising the curtains between the _pologs_ successively, and pa.s.sing under. The bridegroom instantly followed in hot pursuit; but the women who were stationed in each compartment threw every possible impediment in his way, tripping up his unwary feet, holding down the curtains to prevent his pa.s.sage, and applying the willow and alder switches unmercifully to a very susceptible part of his body as he stooped to raise them. The air was filled with drum-beats, shouts of encouragement and derision, and the sound of the heavy blows which were administered to the unlucky bridegroom by each successive detachment of women as he ran the gantlet. It became evident at once that despite his most violent efforts he would fail to overtake the flying Atalanta before she completed the circuit of the tent. Even the golden apples of Hesperides would have availed him little against such disheartening odds; but with undismayed perseverance he pressed on, stumbling headlong over the outstretched feet of his female persecutors, and getting constantly entangled in the ample folds of the reindeerskin curtains, which were thrown with the skill of a matador over his head and eyes. In a moment the bride had entered the last closed _polog_ near the door, while the unfortunate bridegroom was still struggling with his acc.u.mulating misfortunes about half-way around the tent. I expected to see him relax his efforts and give up the contest when the bride disappeared, and was preparing to protest strongly in his behalf against the unfairness of the trial; but, to my surprise, he still struggled on, and with a final plunge burst through the curtains of the last _polog_ and rejoined his bride. The music suddenly ceased, and the throng began to stream out of the tent. The ceremony was evidently over. Turning to Meranef, who with a delighted grin had watched its progress, we inquired what it all meant. ”Were they married?”--”Da's,” was the affirmative reply. ”But,” we objected, ”he didn't catch her.”--”She waited for him, your honour, in the last _polog_, and if he caught her there it was enough.”--”Suppose he had _not_ caught her there, then what?”--”Then,” answered the Cossack, with an expressive shrug of commiseration, ”the _beidnak_ [poor fellow] would have had to work two more years.” This was pleasant--for the bridegroom! To work two years for a wife, undergo a severe course of willow sprouts at the close of his apprentices.h.i.+p, and then have no security against a possible breach of promise on the part of the bride. His faith in her constancy must be unlimited. The intention of the whole ceremony was evidently to give the woman an opportunity to marry the man or not, as she chose, since it was obviously impossible for him to catch her under such circ.u.mstances, unless she voluntarily waited for him in one of the _pologs_. The plan showed a more chivalrous regard and deference for the wishes and preferences of the gentler s.e.x than is common in an unreconstructed state of society; but it seemed to me, as an unprejudiced observer, that the same result might have been obtained without so much abuse of the unfortunate bridegroom! Some regard ought to have been paid to his feelings, if he _was_ a man. I could not ascertain the significance of the chastis.e.m.e.nt which was inflicted by the women upon the bridegroom with the willow switches. Dodd suggested that it might be emblematical of married life--a sort of foreshadowing of future domestic experience; but in view of the masculine Korak character, this hardly seemed to me probable. No woman in her senses would try the experiment a second time upon one of the stern, resolute men who witnessed that ceremony, and who seemed to regard it _then_ as perfectly proper. Circ.u.mstances would undoubtedly alter cases.

Mr. A.S. Bickmore, in the _American Journal of Science_ for May, 1868, notices this curious custom of the Koraks, and says that the chastis.e.m.e.nt is intended to test the young man's ”ability to bear up against the ills of life”; but I would respectfully submit that the ills of life do not generally come in that shape, and that switching a man over the back with willow sprouts is a very singular way of preparing him for future misfortunes of any kind.

Whatever may be the motive, it is certainly an infringement upon the generally recognised prerogatives of the sterner s.e.x, and should be discountenanced by all Koraks who favour masculine supremacy. Before they know it, they will have a woman's suffrage a.s.sociation on their hands, and female lecturers will be going about from band to band advocating the subst.i.tution of hickory clubs and slung-shots for the harmless willow switches, and protesting against the tyranny which will not permit them to indulge in this interesting diversion at least three times a week. [Footnote: It is now well known that this ceremony is a form of ”marriage by capture” which is widely prevalent among barbarous peoples.--G.K. (1909).]

After the conclusion of the ceremony we removed to an adjacent tent, and were surprised, as we came out into the open air, to see three or four Koraks shouting and reeling about in an advanced stage of intoxication--celebrating, I suppose, the happy event which had just transpired. I knew that there was not a drop of alcoholic liquor in all northern Kamchatka, nor, so far as I knew, anything from which it could be made, and it was a mystery to me how they had succeeded in becoming so suddenly, thoroughly, hopelessly, undeniably drunk. Even Ross Browne's beloved Washoe, with its ”howling wilderness” saloons, could not have turned out more creditable specimens of intoxicated humanity than those before us. The exciting agent, whatever it might be, was certainly as quick in its operation, and as effective in its results, as any ”tanglefoot” or ”bottled lightning” known to modern civilisation. Upon inquiry we learned to our astonishment that they had been eating a species of the plant vulgarly known as toadstool.

There is a peculiar fungus of this cla.s.s in Siberia, known to the natives as ”muk-a-moor,” and as it possesses active intoxicating properties, it is used as a stimulant by nearly all the Siberian tribes. [Footnote: _Agaricus muscarius_ or fly-agaric.] Taken in large quant.i.ties it is a violent narcotic poison; but in small doses it produces all the effects of alcoholic liquor. Its habitual use, however, completely shatters the nervous system, and its sale by Russian traders to the natives has consequently been made a penal offence by Russian law. In spite of all prohibitions, the trade is still secretly carried on, and I have seen twenty dollars' worth of furs bought with a single fungus. The Koraks would gather it for themselves, but it requires the shelter of timber for its growth, and is not to be found on the barren steppes over which they wander; so that they are obliged for the most part to buy it, at enormous prices, from the Russian traders. It may sound strangely to American ears, but the invitation which a convivial Korak extends to his pa.s.sing friend is not, ”Come in and have a drink,” but, ”Won't you come in and take a toadstool?” Not a very alluring proposal perhaps to a civilised toper, but one which has a magical effect upon a dissipated Korak. As the supply of these toadstools is by no means equal to the demand, Korak ingenuity has been greatly exercised in the endeavour to economise the precious stimulant, and make it go as far as possible. Sometimes, in the course of human events, it becomes imperatively necessary that a whole band shall get drunk together, and they have only one toadstool to do it with. For a description of the manner in which this band gets drunk collectively and individually upon one fungus, and keeps drunk for a week, the curious reader is referred to Goldsmith's _Citizen of the World_, Letter 32. It is but just to say, however, that this horrible practice is almost entirely confined to the settled Koraks of Penzhinsk Gulf--the lowest, most degraded portion of the whole tribe.

It may prevail to a limited extent among the wandering natives, but I never heard of more than one such instance outside of the Penzhinsk Gulf settlements.

Our travel for the next few days after leaving the third encampment was fatiguing and monotonous. The unvarying routine of our daily life in smoky Korak tents, and the uniform flatness and barrenness of the country over which we journeyed, became inexpressibly tiresome, and we looked forward in longing antic.i.p.ation to the Russian settlement of Gizhiga, at the head of Gizhiginsk Gulf, which was the Mecca of our long pilgrimage. To spend more than a week at one time with the Wandering Koraks without becoming lonesome or homesick, requires an almost inexhaustible fertility of mental resource. One is thrown for entertainment entirely upon himself. No daily paper, with its fresh material for thought and discussion, comes to enliven the long blank evenings by the tent fire; no wars or rumours of wars, no _coup d'etat_ of diplomacy, no excitement of political canva.s.s ever agitates the stagnant intellectual atmosphere of Korak existence. Removed to an infinite distance, both physically and intellectually, from all of the interests, ambitions, and excitements which make up our world, the Korak simply exists, like a human oyster, in the quiet waters of his monotonous life. An occasional birth or marriage, the sacrifice of a dog, or, on rare occasions, of a man to the Korak Ahriman, and the infrequent visits of a Russian trader, are the most prominent events in his history, from the cradle to the grave. I found it almost impossible sometimes to realise, as I sat by the fire in a Korak tent, that I was still in the modern world of railroads, telegraphs, and daily newspapers. I seemed to have been carried back by some enchantment through the long cycles of time, and made a dweller in the tents of Shem and j.a.pheth. Not a suggestion was there in all our surroundings of the vaunted enlightenment and civilisation of the nineteenth century, and as we gradually accustomed ourselves to the new and strange conditions of primitive barbarism, our recollections of a civilised life faded into the unreal imagery of a vivid dream.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Ice scratcher used in stalking seals]

CHAPTER XX

THE KORAK TONGUE--RELIGION OF TERROR--INCANTATIONS OF SHAMANS--KILLING OF OLD AND SICK--REINDEER SUPERSt.i.tION--KORAK CHARACTER

Our long intercourse with the Wandering Koraks gave us an opportunity of observing many of their peculiarities, which would very likely escape the notice of a transient visitor; and as our journey until we reached the head of Penzhinsk Gulf was barren of incident, I shall give in this chapter all the information I could gather relative to the language, religion, superst.i.tions, customs, and mode of life of the Kamchatkan Koraks.

There can be no doubt whatever that the Koraks and the powerful Siberian tribe known as Chukchis (or Tchucktchis, according to Wrangell) descended originally from the same stock, and migrated together from their ancient locations to the places where they now live. Even after several centuries of separation, they resemble each other so closely that they can hardly be distinguished, and their languages differ less one from the other than the Portuguese differs from the Spanish. Our Korak interpreters found very little difficulty in conversing with Chukchis; and a comparison of vocabularies which we afterward made showed only a slight dialectical variation, which could be easily accounted for by a few centuries of separation. None of the Siberian languages with which I am acquainted are written, and, lacking a fixed standard of reference, they change with great rapidity. This is shown by a comparison of a modern Chukchi vocabulary with the one compiled by M. de Lesseps in 1788. Many words have altered so materially as to be hardly recognisable. Others, on the contrary, such as ”tin tin,” ice, ”oottoot,” wood, ”weengay,” no, ”ay,” yes, and most of the numerals up to ten, have undergone no change whatever. Both Koraks and Chukchis count by fives instead of tens, a peculiarity which is also noticeable in the language of the Co-Yukons in Alaska. The Korak numerals are:--

Innin, One.

Nee-akh, Two.

Nee-okh, Three.

Nee-akh, Four.

Mil-li-gen, Five.

In-nin mil-li-gen, Five-one.

Nee-akh ” Five-two.

Nee-okh ” Five-three.

Nee-akh ” Five-four.

Meen-ye-geet-khin, Ten.

After ten they count ten-one, ten-two, etc., up to fifteen, and then ten-five-one; but their numerals become so hopelessly complicated when they get above twenty, that is would be easier to carry a pocketful of stones and count with them, than to p.r.o.nounce the corresponding words.

Fifty-six, for instance, is ”Nee-akh-khleep-kin-meen-ye-geet-khin-par-ol-in-nin-mil-li-gen,” and it is only fifty-six after it is all p.r.o.nounced! It ought to be at least two hundred and sixty-three millions nine hundred and fourteen thousand seven hundred and one--and then it would be long. But the Koraks rarely have occasion to use high numbers; and when they do, they have an abundance of time. It would be a hard day's work for a boy to explain in Korak one of the miscellaneous problems in Ray's Higher Arithmetic. To say 324 5260 = 1,704,240 would certainly ent.i.tle him to a recess of an hour and a reward of merit. We were never able to trace any resemblance whatever between the Koraki-Chukchi language and the languages spoken by the natives on the eastern side of Bering Strait. If there be any resemblance, it must be in grammar rather than in vocabulary.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A KORAK GIRL]

<script>