the john muir exhibit - writings - cruise_of_the_corwin - chapter 18
The Cruise of the Corwin
by John Muir
Chapter XVIII
A Siberian Reindeer Herd
Steamer Corwin,
Plover Bay, Siberia, August 26, 1881.
This morning
a party from the ship went to the head of the bay under the guidance of
a pair of Chukchis to see a herd of reindeer that they told us was there.
The distance, we found, is about eighteen miles from the lower harbor,
where the Corwin is at anchor. The day was fine and we enjoyed the sail
very much, skimming rapidly along in the steam launch over smooth water,
past the huge ice-sculptured headlands and mountains that formed the walls,
and the deep cañons and valleys between them that swept back to
clusters of glacial fountains. The naturalist made desperate efforts now
and then to obtain specimens of rare auks, petrels, ducks, etc., which
were flying and swimming about us in great abundance, making lively pictures
of happy, exuberant life.
The rocks bounding the bay, though beautiful in their combinations and
collocations of curves and peaks, inflowing and touching delicately, and
rising in bold, picturesque groups, are, nevertheless,
intensely desolate-looking
for want of trees, shrubs, or vegetation dense enough to give color in
telling quantities visible at a distance, Even the valleys opening back
from the water here and there are mostly bare as seen at the distance of
a mile or two, and have only faint tinges of green derived from dwarf willows,
sedges, and heathworts that creep low among the stones. Yet here, or in
the larger valleys adjacent, where the main tributary glaciers came into
the Plover Bay trunk, and in other valleys to the northeastward, large
herds of reindeer, wild as well as tame, find sustenance, together with
a few wild sheep and bears.
On the terminal moraine of the ancient glacier that formed the first
main tributary of the Plover Bay glacier, some four miles from the extreme
head of the bay, we noticed two small skincovered huts, which our guides
informed us belonged to the reindeer people we were seeking, and that we
should certainly find them at home, because their herd was only a little
one and found plenty of weeds and moss to eat in the valleys behind their
huts without going far away, as the people had to do who owned big herds.
At two days' distance, they said, where the valleys are wide and green,
with plenty to eat, there is a big herd belonging to one of their friends,
so big that they cover all the ground thereabouts; but the herd we were
to see was only a little one, and the owner was not a rich man.
As we approached the shore, a hundred yards or so from the huts, a young
man came running to meet us, bounding over the moraine boulders, with easy
strength as if his limbs had been trained on the mountains for many a year,
until running had become a pleasant indulgence. He was presently joined
by three others, who gazed and smiled curiously at the steam launch and
at our party, wondering suspiciously, when the interpreter had told our
object, why we should come so far and seem so eager to see their deer.
Our guides, who, of course, understood their prejudices and superstitions,
told them that we wanted a big, fat deer to eat, and that we would pay
them well for it--tobacco, lead, powder, caps, shot, calico, knives, etc.,
told off in tempting order. But they said they had none to sell, and it
required half an hour of cautious negotiation to get them over their suspicious
alarms, and [to induce them to] consent to sell the carcass of one, provided
we would leave the skin, which they said they wanted to keep for winter
garments.
Then two young men, fine, strapping, elastic fellows, threw off their
upper parkas, tied their handsomely embroidered moccasins firmly across
the instep and around the ankle, poised their long Russian spears, which
they said they always carried in case they should meet a bear or wolf,
and away they sped after the herd up a long, wide glacier valley along
the bank of a stream, bounding lightly from rock to rock in easy poise,
and across soft bits of tundra and rough sedgy meadows with long, heaving,
undulating strides. Their gait, as far as we could see, was steadily maintained
and was admirably lithe and strong and graceful. Their small feet and ankles
and round tapered shanks showed to fine advantage in their tight-fitting
leggings and moccasins as they went speeding over the ground like trained
racers glorying in their strength. We watched them through field-glasses
until they were about three miles away, during which time they did not
appear to slacken their pace a single moment. They were gone about three
hours, so that the herd must have been at least six or seven miles from
the huts.
In the meantime we ate luncheon and strolled about the neighborhood
looking at the plants, at the views down the bay, and at the interior of
the huts, etc. We chatted with the Chukchis about their herd, about the
wild sheep on the mountains, the wild reindeer, bears, and wolves. We found
that the family consisted of father, mother, a grown daughter, and the
boys that were after the deer. The old folks were evidently contented and
happy in their safe retreat among the hills, with a sure support from their
precious herd. And they were proud of their red-cheeked girl and two strapping
boys, as well they might be; for they seemed as healthy and rosy and robust
a group of children as ever gladdened the heart of Chukchi parents. The
boys appeared to be part owners of everything about the house, as well
as of the deer, for in looking through the huts we saw a few curious odds
and ends that we offered to purchase, but were told, in most cases, that
they could not sell them until the boys came back.
Their huts are like all we have seen belonging to the Chukchis as far
north and west as we have been--a balloon frame of long poles hewn on two
sides so that they might be bent outward, the points coming together not
in the middle, but a little to one side away from the direction of the
prevailing wind, which gives them a curious hump-backed appearance. This
frame is covered with skin of the walrus, if it can be had; if not, then
with sealskin or deerskin. No great pains are taken to keep them rain-proof,
so that in wet weather they are oftentimes damp or muddy. But there is
not much rain in the Arctic regions, and the deerskin pologs, or drawing
rooms inside, are kept perfectly dry and snug, whatever the state of the
main outer tent may chance to be.
The two huts at this place are smaller and more leaky and dilapidated
than is common. The covering is composed of different kinds of skin, perhaps
a thousand pieces sewed together, some of them with the hair on, the whole
appearing as one colossal patchwork, as if made up of small scraps. The
head of the family seemed to be a little ashamed of them, for he explained
with the air of a man making an apology, that he did not construct
them; they formerly belonged to some one else, and that soon after he came
to take possession one of them was torn open by a hungry bear that went
in and frightened his wife and daughter and stole some grease.
A Chukchi Summer House at Plover Bay
From a photograph by E. S. Curtis
Copyright, 1899, by E. H. Harriman
|
The Chukchis seem to be a good-natured, lively, chatty, brave, and polite
people, fond of a joke, and, as far as I have seen, fair in their dealings
as any people, savage or civilized, They are not savage by any means, however,
but steady, industrious workers, looking well ahead, providing for the
future, and consequently seldom in want, save when at long intervals disease
or other calamities overtake their herds, or exceptionally severe seasons
prevent their obtaining the ordinary supplies of seals, fish, whales, walruses,
bears, etc., on which the sedentary Chukchis chiefly depend. The sedentary
and reindeer Chukchis are the same people, and are said to differ in a
marked degree, both in physical characteristics and in language, from the
neighboring tribes, as they certainly do from the Eskimos. Many of them
have light complexions, hooked or aquiline noses, tall, sinewy, well-knit
frames, small feet and hands, and are not, especially the men, so thick-set,
short-necked, or flat-faced as the Eskimos.
After we had watched impatiently for some time, the reindeer came in
sight, about a hundred and fifty of them, driven gently without any of
that noisy shouting and worrying that are heard in driving the domestic
animals in civilized countries. We left the huts and went up the stream
bank about three quarters of a mile to meet them, led by the owner and
his wife and daughter, who carried a knife and tin cup and vessels to save
the blood and the entrails--which stirred a train of grim associations
that greatly marred the beauty of the picture.
I was afraid from what I knew of the habits of sheep, cattle, and horses
that a sight of strangers would stampede the herd when we met. But of this,
as it proved, there was not the slightest danger; for of all the familiar,
tame animals man has gathered about him, the reindeer is the tamest. They
can hardly be said to be domesticated, since they are not shut in
around the huts, or put under shelter either winter or summer, On they
came, while we gazed eagerly at the novel sight--a thicket of antlers,
big and little, old and young, led by the strongest, holding their heads
low most of the time, as if conscious of the fact that they were carrying
very big, branching horns. A straggler fell behind now and then to cull
a choice mouthful of willow or dainty, gray lichen, then made haste to
join the herd again.
They waded across the creek and came straight toward us, up the sloping
bank where we were waiting, nearer, nearer, until we could see their eyes,
their smooth, round limbs, the velvet on their horns, until within five
or six yards of us, the drivers saying scarce a word, and the owner in
front looking at them as they came up without making any call or movement
to attract them. After giving us the benefit of their magnificent eyes
and sweet breath they began to feed off, back up the valley. Thereupon
the boys, who had been loitering on the stream-side to catch a salmon trout
or two, went round them and drove them back to us. Then the deer stopped
feeding and began to chew the cud and to lie down, with eyes partly closed
and dreamy-looking, as if profoundly comfortable, we strangers causing
them not the slightest alarm though standing nearly within touching distance
of them. Cows in a barnyard, milked and petted every day, are not so gentle.
Yet these beautiful animals are allowed to feed at will, without herding
to any great extent. They seem as smooth and clean and glossy as if they
were wild. Taming does not seem to have injured them in any way. I saw
no mark of man upon them.
They are not so large as I had been led to suppose, nor so rough and
bony and angular. The largest would not much exceed three or four hundred
pounds in weight, They are, at this time of year, smooth, trim, delicately
molded animals, very fat, and apparently short-winded, for they were breathing
hard when they came up, like oxen that had been working on a hot day. The
horns of the largest males are about four feet long, rising with a backward
curve, and then forward, and dividing into three or four points, and with
a number of short palmated branches putting forward and downward from the
base over the animal's forehead. Those of the female are very slender and
elegant in curve, more so than any horns I have seen. This species of deer
is said to be the only one in which the female has horns. The fawns, also,
have horns already, six inches to a foot long, with a few blunt, knobby
branches beginning to sprout. All are now in the velvet, some of which
is beginning to peel off and hang in loose shreds about the heads of some
of them, producing a very singular appearance, as if they had been fighting
a rag-bag.
The so-called velvet is a close, soft, downy fur, black in color, and
very fine and silky, about three eighths or half an inch long, with a few
hairs nearly an inch in length rising stiffly here and there over the general
plushy surface. All the branches of their horns are covered, giving an
exceedingly rich and beautiful effect. The eyes are large, and in expression
confiding and gentle. The head, contrary to my preconceived notions derived
from engravings, is, on the whole, delicately formed, the muzzle long and
straight, blunt and cowlike. The neck is thin, tapering but little, rather
deep, and held, while standing at ease, sloping down a little, and the
large males have long hair on the under side. The body is round, almost
cylindrical--the belly not at all bloated or bent out like that of a cow.
The legs are stout, but not clumsy, and taper finely into the muscles of
the shoulders and hips. The feet are very broad and spreading, making a
track about as large as a cow's. This enables the animal to walk over boggy
tundras in summer and over snow in winter.
In color they vary almost as much in some specimens as do cattle and
horses, showing white, brown, black, and gray at the same time. The prevailing
color is nearly black in summer, brownish-white in winter. The colors of
the tame animals are not so constant as those of the wild. The hair is,
when full grown, very heavy, with fine wool at the bottom, thus making
a warm covering sufficient to enable the animal to resist the keenest frosts
of the Arctic winter without any shelter beyond the lee side of a rock
or hill.
After walking through the midst of the herd, the boys selected a rather
small specimen to be killed. One caught it by the hind leg, just as sheep
are caught, and dragged it backward out of the herd; then the other boy
took it by the horns and led it away a few yards from the herd, no notice
being taken of its struggles by its companions, nor was any tendency to
take fright observed, such as would, under the circumstances, have been
shown by any of the common domestic animals. The mother alone looked after
it eagerly, and further manifested her concern and affection by uttering
a low, grunting sound, and by trying to follow it.
After it was slain they laid it on its side. One of the women brought
forward a branch of willow about a foot long, with the green leaves on
it, and put it under the animal's head. Then she threw four or five handfuls
of the blood, from the knife-wound back of the shoulder, out over the ground
to the southward, making me get out of the way, as if this direction were
the only proper one. Next she took a cupful of water and poured a little
on its mouth and tail and on the wound. While this ceremony was being performed
all the family looked serious, but as soon as it was over they began to
laugh and chat as before. The herd, during the time of the killing and
dressing, were tranquilly chewing their cud, not noticing even the smell
of the blood, which makes cattle so frantic.
One of our party was anxious to procure a young one alive to take home
with him, but they would not sell one alive at any price. When we inquired
the reason they said that if they should part with one, all the rest of
the herd would die, and the same thing would happen if they were to part
with the head of one. This they excitedly declared was true, for they had
seen it proved many times though white men did not understand it and always
laughed about it. When we indicated a very large buck and inquired why
they did not kill that big one, and let the little ones grow, they replied
that that big fellow was strong, and knew how to pull a sled, and could
run fast over the snow that would come by-and-by, and they needed him too
much to kill him.
I have never before seen half so interesting a company of tame animals.
In some parts of Siberia reindeer herds numbering many thousands may be
seen together. In these frozen regions they supply every want of their
owners as no other animal could possibly do--food, warm clothing, coverings
for their tents, bedding, rapid transportation, and, to some extent, fuel.
They are not nearly so numerous in the immediate vicinity of the bay as
they once were, a fact attributed to the sale of several live specimens
to whalers.
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